#well at least the two of us are sticking together so that’s nice

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Witching Hour Wishes

Part 1 | AO3 | *This is a story told in scenes and can be read in any order though is listed in chronological order on the masterlist.

Sitting bolt upright in bed John sucks in air like he had escaped the vacuum of space, cold sweat tipping him into shivers. To either side of him lay Kyle and Gary. Every night since the sarin exposure at least one of his men had mended their hurt in his bed. John held each of them together while they let their broken parts out. Tonight he needed someone to hold him together.

One nice thing about being the boss was being able to call it a night early. At twelve-thirty am with an empty cafe and a quick call to the local bars to find out they were also nearly empty, you had decided with your one staff on shift to call it a night early. Tara would still get her full pay for the shift and happily helped finish closing duties and get home.

One-thirty found you rearming the alarm on the house, toeing off your shoes and setting them into the rack, and wandering the dark of the house to your room. Any number of times you would come home and find someone in your bed, fairy lights draped along your wall still twinkling. The faint light seeping out from below your door didn’t surprise you; John pacing your room in nothing but a pair of sweats, hands deep in his pockets, however, did.

He looked up as you opened the door, distress clear in every line of his body. The past peered out of his eyes at you, speaking only of trauma and fear.

“Hi John,” you greeted him softly as you set your bag down on your desk.

No words from him. Oh, this was a bad one. All of your guys would go nonverbal if things got too hard to live with in their heads. He tracked you with his eyes, body swaying side to side.

Reaching out a hand in offer you waited. John settled his hand into yours, the clammy grip informed your plan. This house had several bathrooms, they had decided that one of them needed a massive tub and renovated it soon after moving in.

“Will you come with me, John?” You interlaced your fingers with his as you peered up at him.

He squeezed your hand once, the gentle pressure breaking your heart. Tears pricking at your eyes you lead John into the darkness and into the hall bathroom. With no exterior walls, this room had to be one of the darkest in the house. By memory alone you found the correct drawer and pulled out two glow sticks, cracking them to provide dim light. This had been a trick that a roommate a long time ago had shown you. Sometimes she couldn’t shower in the light due to a migraine and used this as a workaround.

Fingers still tucked firmly between John’s you started a bath for him. Tossing in a lightly scented bath bomb and testing the water you confirm the temperature before turning back to him.

“John, I need you to shuck the pants and get in the tub okay? I am going to get a cup and will be right back. Can you do that for me?” Tilting to catch his eye you offer him an encouraging smile.

At his nod, you stretch up and kiss him on the lips.

“Be right back.”

Ducking from the room you moved quickly on feet as quiet as you could make them. Sliding into the kitchen on your socks you nearly run into Johnny.

“Did you just get home? Didn’t hear you come in,” Johnny drops a kiss on top of your head.

“Been here a few minutes. Putting John in the bath though so can you grab me the large cup we got from the movie theater a few months back?” You point to the cupboard as if he doesn’t know where it lives.

“John doing okay?” Johnny’s concern is evident as he does as you ask.

“He will be. He’s gonna spend the night in my room. Can you tell the guys to leave my room alone for a bit?” Worry crawled up your spine, you had been gone longer than expected.

“Course,” he lays the cup in your hand, heart in his eyes, “We are so lucky you fell into Simon’s lap.”

“We are all lucky for shitty landlords I guess,” rolling your eyes even as you smile and walk away. “Night Johnny. Sleep well.”

John had turned off the water by the time you returned, leaning back in the tub with his eyes still distant. Setting the cup down on the edge of the tub you grabbed your bath supplies and a clean rag. Kneeling beside the tub you dip the rag into the water before spreading soap across the surface of it. Starting with his face, you clean gently before moving on to his hands.

Lifting one from the water you work over each finger individually. When you reach his ring finger he starts to talk.

“Nearly died on the last job. It was bad,” his voice took on a tone of abandonment, “So bad and I still had to be the captain.”

“You aren’t my captain John. Would you like me to be in charge for the night?” The process of cleaning him didn’t pause as he began to release the pressure on his soul.

When his eyes settled on you with the weight of an anvil you cleaned up his arm before setting it down and curling two fingers in invitation for the other one. He ignored your request.

“Why?”

He isn’t questioning why he should let you be in charge, more of why would you offer that?

Lifting a hand to his face you wait until he rests his cheek into your palm.

“Even redwoods require rest. You stand among giants John, let me be your rest.”

The tears that slip from his eyes shock him, as evidenced by the finger he swipes below his eye to study critically. Leaning over the edge of the tub you kiss him. Taking your hand back you gently take his arm you have yet to clean and begin the process anew.

Rinsing the rag you apply more soap and wash his chest and back that are above the waterline.

“Stand up for me John, need to wash more of you.”

The compliance is punctuated by the slooshing water running down his body. The cleaning is perfunctory, and he handles cleaning his groin after you finish everything else. Once he takes the rag from you your attention turns to draining the tub. As the water drains you look at him. Arms dangling to his sides he watches you, suds slipping past his ankles. Softly tugging the rag from his hand you rinse it in the receding water and set it aside.

“I know it’s a bit cold but please stay standing until I can rinse the tub.”

He nods once, gooseflesh creeping along his body. As the last of the bubbles stick you flick the water on to a decent temperature. Using the cup Johnny had pulled down for you you pour the clean water along the basin until it has been cleared.

“Okay, time to sit down. Tell me if the water is too hot,” you close the drain and watch as the water begins to rise along the length of John’s legs.

Needing to give your back a rest you stack your arms on the edge of the tub and rest your head looking at John.

“Tell me something.”

The command is lightly given—a denial allowed, though not encouraged.

“I joined the military when I was seventeen,” his hand drifts through the rising water, trails of motion following him.

You chuckle lightly, “At seventeen the only life-changing decisions I was making involved boys and a fuck ton of substances.”

He smiles at that, the first smile not haunted you had seen in a long time.

“Why did you?” Turning off the water that had reached his nipples gave him time to answer.

“Tradition, I think.”

Returning to your previous position you watch him settle more comfortably into the water.

“Say more about that.”

He puffs a breath of air out his nose, sending ripples through the water like a dragon. The lift of a brow reminds him that for tonight he ceded control.

“My father served,” his eyes grow distant in the dim light, “And my uncle, and their father. They all died before forty. My grandfather’s plane went down, never found it or his body. My uncle took a bullet through the neck and my father’s heart gave out behind his desk. I am scared I will continue their curse.”

Dipping a finger into the water you loop patterns into the warm water.

“Does death scare you?”

“Yes.” The answer immediate and firm.

“It doesn’t scare me.” Flicking your gaze to him you find disbelief mingled with confusion. “I nearly drowned when I was ten. I hit my head at the pool and couldn’t find up. Lifeguard told my mom that I had a concussion and needed to go to the hospital. I found something at the bottom of that water. I found the peace in death. It never left me, that knowing that when this all ends, even if I go screaming, once the pain stops there is only peace.”

It sits like an albatross between you, the fear and acceptance of death dueling.

“Enough of that, death will come in time.” Grabbing the cup again you fill it with water and set about washing John’s hair, guarding his forehead every time you doused his head close to it.

Hair sufficiently soaked through you pump a squirt of your shampoo into your hand and lather it. Focusing on his scalp you work it in until John’s eyes have shut and the weight of his head is resting in your hands.

“I’m thinking of retirement.” He whispers the words as if they carry a shame that would tarnish his bloodline.

The noncommittal hum you provide has him cracking a single eye to look at you.

“Not sure what you expect from me, John. You don’t take advice so why waste my precious oxygen?” You wink at him; he rolls his eyes.

Rinsing his hair you pump some conditioner and repeat the process, infusing tender care into the hair routine.

Eyes once again closed he opens up again, as if the darkness behind his lids allowed him to open the box deep inside of that deep place in his soul.

“I am scared to leave them.”

“You will leave them in death or in life John, you only get to choose one. If you are scared for them I understand, tough jobs you all take on. If you are scared to let them grow beyond you I would have to point out the cowardice in that,” you rinse his hair, avoiding his eyes as he glares at you.

Hair clean you move to the drain, unplugging it and letting the water flow once more.

“Stand up John, I’ll rinse you once more and then we are going to get you dried off and into bed.”

He does as commanded, for a captain was once a private who took orders. Running water through the shower head attachment you rinse him and the tub once more. Cutting off the water you retrieve two towels and hand one to John. Working in tandem his body is dry and his sweats are returned to his body. Dropping the glow sticks into the garbage can you lace your fingers in John’s again and pull him to bed.

Changing quickly into something not wet from work or care you join John beneath the covers. He is curled in on himself. Molding to his shape you begin to drift. The quivering shakes of his body pull you from the brink of sleep.

“Roll over John, let me hold you.”

He does, weeping into your chest until only the slow, deep, even breaths seeping across your collarbone tell you he has emptied his well of pain.

When wakefulness finds you hours and hours later it is in John’s arms as he contemplates the ceiling.

“Thank you.”

Neck stretching you lay a kiss on his cheek above the beard.

“They will understand whatever decision you need to make. And if that includes full retirement I could always hire you as a new barista,” you offer up cheekily.

The glare he sends you has you giggling and trying to escape his grip. Bastard tickles you until you cry uncle and rush to the bathroom, his laughter follows you. The glow sticks still faintly emit light from the can.

Shout out to @isuckatbeeingadult for nudging me with enough of any idea to produce another chapter.

Masterlist | Fallen Angel Masterlist

@lilynotdilly @demothers-empty-blog

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

"What are you doing? It's two in the morning, doll," Toji's voice drawls out, sleep morphing his voice into something quiet and gravelly.

You pause the show you have playing on your phone and look up at Toji, who's leaning against the dining room entryway. He has two random clumps of his hair sticking out, his eyes are slightly puffy with sleep, and there's this pout on his face that just pieces it all together.

"I woke up and wanted something sweet. I had a bite of cake and an orange. Well, two oranges," you say, giving him a glimpse of the progress you've made on the second one. He hums and goes quiet, groggily watching you continue to eat the fruit. "Go back to sleep, baby," you coo. "I'll head back in a few minutes."

"Come back, now. I'm tired," Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest. He really looks like the grumpiest of bears.

You chuckle at the almost whiny sound in his voice. "Five minutes."

"No. Too long."

"Three minutes?" You counteroffer.

Toji shakes his head. "No, baby. Now."

"But..." you hold up your remaining two pieces of orange.

"Finish up. I'm waiting on you."

You sigh and stuff the two pieces of orange in your mouth, before standing up to wash your hands.

You follow behind Toji as he leads you through the dark hallway, back to the bedroom. He waits for you to walk in before shutting the door and joining you on his side of the bed. Immediately, he tries to steal all your warmth, because the sheets and the blanket feel cold on his naked torso and his legs. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and throws an arm over your chest, while his legs trap one of yours between them. He's all consuming.

"Why'd you get out of bed?" You murmur, stroking the back of his head. Toji lets out a quiet grunt, falling silent, again, after. You smile and stop talking so that he can go back to sleep. You bring your phone up and start scrolling through your socials, only to earn another quiet, but more disapproving grunt. "Sorry," your whisper, turning down the brightness of your screen.

"Turn it off, ma. It's too early for you to be awake," Toji chides.

"But I can't go back to sleep. I'm not tired," you explain.

"I can put you down. Just turn it off, alright?"

You sigh, defeatedly, and turn your screen off, before setting it on your nightstand.

"Turn onto your side," Toji tiredly mumbles, instructing you so that he can turn as well and spoon you. His arm goes over your waist and below your shirt to caress the bare skin of your tummy. His thumb slowly strokes your soft skin, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. "Relax," he says, coaxing a relieved sigh out of you. "There you go. You've got sugar in your system, now, ma. It might take a little longer to get you to sleep."

"Sorry," you mumble into your pillow. Your eyes don't feel heavy and you don't feel the least bit sluggish. It always feels nice to have Toji rub your tummy, and this method of getting you to sleep is ninety-nine point nine percent effective, the point one percent being this time.

"I don't think me rubbing your stomach is gonna save you this time," Toji says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He gets a quiet, disappointed sigh from you, followed by silence. He doesn't want you to feel bad. You're not the first person ever to wake up craving something so badly that it doesn't let you stay asleep, and tummy rubs aren't the only method he uses to help you get to sleep. "Want me to go down there and make it all better?" He murmurs.

"You need to sleep, too," you say, considering his own tiredness.

"I'll sleep just fine without you tossing and turning all night. Let me help you."

So, you do. You let him go under the blanket and pull your shorts and underwear down, both in one go. You feel his lips on your thighs, slowly making their way towards the part of you that very quickly grew needy, and once his tongue makes contact with you, your first instinct is to bend your knees and plant your feet on the mattress.

"Relax, baby," Toji says, under the blanket. His hands push on your thighs so that your legs go down, again. "Don't tense up too much. We're getting you to sleep, 'kay?"

"Sorry," you mumble, shutting your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the way Toji's mouth works on you. His hands stay on your thighs and rub your skin, soothingly, with the same gentleness he uses for the tummy rubs he gives you.

All that can be heard as Toji builds you up through the quietness of the night, are your soft breaths and the rustling of sheets, as you squirm and slightly arch off the bed. His tongue offers gentle licks to your clit, before he envelops the sensitive bud with his lips and starts suckling on it. Every time your legs go up, he hums against your cunt and pushes them back down, and it keeps going this way until he's had enough. You don't listen and he's corrected you multiple times, so he had to resort to locking your thighs in place with his arms.

"T-Toji," you whimper out, writhing under him and the relentlessness flicking of his tongue. "Please- Please?"

"Shh... I know, baby," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your cunt, before continuing.

Your legs are quivering and it's so hard to lie still when you've been edged and denied of your orgasm three times, now—all work done by solely his mouth. His soft, warm tongue has been lapping at you for long enough to have thin strings of your arousal and his saliva connecting you to him, even for a mere second, before those strings snap.

It doesn't take much more than Toji sucking on your over sensitive clit for a couple seconds, for you to finally get that powerful orgasm you've been grasping, but never fully reaching. Your toes curl, your hips roll against the mattress as your back arches off the bed, and you gasp sharply, a sound that leads the rest of your sounds of pleasure out, as Toji helps you ride out the sensation. While, normally, he would be a little mean and overstimulate you, even just the slightest bit, he opts out of it, this time, because the purpose of this from the start was to get you to sleep, and based off the sounds you made, Toji knows you're going to sleep so good.

Once you've calmed down, your breathing steadied and your body still on the bed—now entirely relaxed—Toji cleans you up with his tongue. Slow, gentle strokes, because despite this act of kindness being for you to achieve rest, he can't—doesn't want to—waste your sweet essence.

When he's done, he slides your underwear back on and uses your shorts to wipe his face, before tossing them somewhere behind him on the bed. Toji peeks out from under the blanket and takes in your peaceful expression. Your eyes are shut, not a crease in your brows, and your breaths come softly through your nose. This is it.

He tries to be as careful as possible when crawling back up to his side of the bed, not wanting to wake you up after just getting you to sleep. It seems like the coast is clear when his head hits his pillow and he carefully shifts so that he can watch you until he falls asleep. Then, he sees you stir and he starts thinking that maybe the orgasm didn't fully wear you out, but just left you dazed. He doesn't say anything when you briefly open your eyes to look at him, but when you lean in to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, he's furthermore silenced. Immediately after, you bury your face in his chest and doze off for sure, this time. Toji coils around you and instantly returns to his all consuming way of sleeping with you.

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. One night, when your blind date goes wrong, he wants to make sure your night still ends in pleasure. {Older!Harry}

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, age gap (15 years), mention of alcohol consumption, fem!reader

“Oh, what’s wrong, pretty girl?” Harry asked, his voice warm with concern as you trudged over to him from the bar, exhaustion written across your face.

The music in the background blared so loudly that it felt like it was vibrating through your bones, drowning out everything else. Every Friday night, Harry rented a private room at the local club for your group of friends to unwind, drink, and let loose.

You collapsed into his lap, resting your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

“I’m just so tired…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the thumping bass.

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer with a gentle smile. He knew how alcohol always made you sleepy and affectionate, especially after just a few drinks.

“Poor thing,” Harry teased, his lip sticking out in a mock pout. He was used to giving you the same spiel every Friday—how he knew even a little alcohol would knock you out.

“I wasn’t even planning on drinking tonight,” you giggled drunkenly. “But then Eve and Clara dragged me to the bar, and I had one drink… and then two… and then three…it really wasn’t my fault.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll get you something to eat, at least. You need to balance out that alcohol.” He reached across the table to grab a small bowl of pretzels and nuts he had sent to the table the moment he saw you take your first shot, but the thought of eating made your stomach churn.

Despite the 15-year age gap between you—23 and Harry 38—you had always been close. You were just friends, of course, and had made sure to clarify that to everyone around you, but it didn’t stop people from speculating.

But could you blame them? You practically lived at his house, spent most of your free time together, and took care of each other like an old married couple.

You half-heartedly munched on a couple of pretzels, trying to settle your stomach. Just then, a waiter appeared with a glass of ice water, which you drank down in one go, the cold helping to ground you.

As your friends continued their chatter, some heading to the bar, others to the dance floor, you stayed in Harry’s lap, drifting in and out of sleep with your head tucked into his neck.

“We can head home if you want, bunny,” Harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back.

“No, I’m okay,” you protested sleepily, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled deeper into him. “Let’s stay for a bit.”

Eve, Clara, and a few others returned, laughing as they took their seats around the table.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever seen fall asleep in a club with barely any alcohol in their system,” Eve said with a teasing smile.

You managed a sleepy chuckle. “I can’t socialize without a little buzz,” you admitted, blinking your eyes open for the first time in a while as you sat up.

“As long as we get you on the dance floor later, I don’t mind,” Clara said with a wink, sipping on her margarita.

"Speaking of socializing," Eve began, eyeing you playfully, "Do you remember that guy we met at Jolie’s art exhibit? Elijah?" You nodded, though your memory of him was hazy.

"Well," she continued, "he kind of asked if I could set you two up on a date... but I told him I’d check with you first. It’s totally your call."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the idea of finally getting laid after months of dry spells, but before you could think it through, your words came tumbling out.

"Sure, why not? I think I remember him being cute. Is he nice?" You caught Harry’s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as his jaw clenched.

"He’s a friend of Jolie and me from University," Eve said, her voice light. "He was closer to Jolie, but he’s sweet. Really into art and music. I think you’ll like him." Eve’s tone was upbeat, though the surprise among the other girls was palpable. You'd been known to avoid dating for months, and yet here you were, agreeing to a date in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation, Eve texted Elijah to let him know you'd accepted.

The next hour passed in a blur of laughter and bad jokes that were 10 times funnier thanks to the alcohol coursing through your system. After a couple more drinks, you, Eve, and Clara decided to hit the dance floor again.

"You’re coming with me?" you asked Harry, slinging your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Not really feeling it," he bluntly replied. "But don’t let me stop you."

You pouted, leaning closer to him. "You can go home, if you’re done. We could go home together." Your lips kissed all over his face, guilt creeping in as your drunk brain wondered if you'd done something wrong.

"No, no, sweet thing, I’m good. Just haven’t had enough to drink to feel loose enough to show off my moves," he chuckled, planting a quick kiss on your head. "Go have fun."

With that, you strutted away, immediately getting lost in the rhythm of the music. You couldn’t help but notice each of you was drunkenly dancing to a different beat.

"Hey!! Elijah texted me back!" Eve shouted over the thumping music. "He wants to take you out tomorrow!"

"Sounds good!" you yelled back, not even pausing in your wild dancing. "Any time after five works for me!"

When your legs finally felt like they’d given all they could to the dance floor, the three of you retreated back to your private room.

"I can tell by your face that you’re getting tired again," Harry teased, his voice warm as he glanced over at you. You sat down next to him, leaning into his side. "Time to go home?"

You nodded, already feeling the weight of your headache catching up to you.

"Okay, let’s go, sweet thing." Harry helped you stand, offering you a smile.

As was the usual routine after a night out—one of you sober, the other tipsy—the sober one would drive the drunk one home. When you were both drunk, however, it became a game of scissor -paper-stone to see who’d get the front seat in the Uber.

He gently assisted you into his car, a sleek black Range Rover, securing your seatbelt as you leaned back, closing your eyes in quiet exhaustion.

When you arrived at his house, he was there again, unbuckling your seatbelt and guiding you to the door with steady care.

“I’ll grab you some water and Ibuprofen. Why don’t you head upstairs and get ready for bed?”

You nodded in gratitude, your body heavy with fatigue as you slowly made your way up the stairs. Once inside his room, you went straight to the dresser, where you always kept a few pairs of pajamas for nights like this.

In his bathroom, your extra face wash, moisturizer, and toothbrush were neatly arranged….maybe people weren’t wrong to wonder if there was something more going on between you two.

Your hangover symptoms the next morning are what woke you up, head pounding and nausea. You opened your eyes, seeing Harry sitting up next to you, reading his book, shirtless.

“What a beautiful site to wake up to.” You groggily joked.

Harry looked up from his book, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he marked his place and set the book aside. His eyes softened as he noticed you, his hand gently your messy hair away from your face.

“How’s your head feeling?” he asked, his tone low and soothing.

You let out a groan in response, your mind scrambling for some semblance of clarity. Slowly, fragments of last night came rushing back. The dim, pulsing lights of the club. The laughter. The dancing. You winced at the ache in your feet, a silent reminder of how long you'd been on your feet. And then, a sudden, jarring memory surfaced—one that made your stomach churn in a different way.

“Wait… did I really agree to go on a date today?” You asked, barely believing it yourself.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, his fingers still gently massaging your scalp as he looked at you with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“You did,” he said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You groaned again, sinking deeper into the pillow, willing the world to stop spinning. “Jeez, I can’t even remember the last five minutes, let alone a date,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Harry’s chuckle turned into a laugh as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing lightly over your temple in a comforting rhythm.

"I think you’re going to be just fine," Harry teased, his voice still soft with affection. "But I’m not gonna lie... I am interested to see how this date goes. Since you've been avoiding dating for so long"

"Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m not expecting anything amazing," you sighed, stretching your arms above your head.

Later that day, you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror, nervously adjusting your outfit. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the date, but you didn’t want to look like you didn’t care either. You settled on a simple black dress—something that was easy but still flattering.

You took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if you had something better to do. You could always call Harry afterward to complain about how terrible it went.

You arrived at restaurant where Elijah had suggested you meet. It had that typical artsy vibe—exposed brick walls, vintage furniture, and food that probably cost more than it should have. As you walked in, you spotted Elijah immediately.

He looked up as you approached, a confident, almost smug smile spreading across his face. “Ah, you made it,” he said, standing to greet you.

"Of course," you replied, offering a smile.

"So, what do you like to do?" Elijah leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table, his gaze more smug than ever. "What’s your thing? What are you into?"

The question hung in the air, a little too casually thrown at you. You hesitated for a moment, then smiled politely. "Well, I enjoy a bit of everything. Not really an expert in anything, though. I like books, music… anything creative, really."

He waved a hand dismissively, clearly not too interested in your response. “That’s nice. But honestly, I think everyone has their own version of what ‘creativity’ means. I think it’s just one of those things that gets watered down by society’s need to put things in boxes.”

You nodded, trying not to laugh at how seriously he was taking his own thoughts. The guy was talking in circles, as if he had an actual dissertation on his mind.

At some point during the evening, you realized that Elijah wasn’t going to ask about you or show any real interest in anything about your life. He kept dropping vague hints about how "complicated" he was, how misunderstood artists like himself had to suffer for their brilliance, and how he was just waiting for the world to catch up with him.

The only thing that really seemed to get him talking was his apparent admiration for himself.

Eventually, the awkwardness started to wear off, and he invited you to his apartment. Not that you were expecting anything from it—but you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and the loneliness was starting to hit.

The two of you ended up sitting on your couch, sipping wine, your conversation moving toward more personal topics. It felt... comfortable, even though you knew it wasn’t exactly what you'd been hoping for. Still, you found yourself kissing him a little while later, your mind racing with that familiar nervous excitement.

Things moved quickly, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, both of you tangled up in each other in the dimly lit space of your apartment.

Time passed—minutes, hours, it was hard to tell. Eventually, you found yourself at the door, your dress wrinkled and your head spinning.

"Stay. Please," Elijah urged, his eyes softening slightly as he leaned in closer. “We could talk more. I really want to see you again.”

You bit your lip, your thoughts muddled. But, remembering the hours of excruciating conversation, you knew you needed to leave. "I have work in the morning," you said, even though it wasn’t true. The lie slipped out before you could even think about it.

Elijah’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. "Well, I guess that’s alright. But next time�� Let’s make sure we have more time."

You smiled softly, but your mind was already elsewhere, already home and away from him.

You stepped out into the cool night air, pulling your coat tightly around your shoulders, feeling that familiar sense of discomfort slowly sink in. The date had been a total bust, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret.

At home, after a quick shower to wash off the lingering feelings of awkwardness, you picked up your phone and texted Harry, hoping that he’d be up for a late-night rant.

"Can I come over to vent? This date was so annoying."

You didn’t have to wait long before his reply popped up. "Of course, pretty girl."

And so, you drove over, already thinking about how you were going to explain all the cringey moments to Harry, secretly hoping he wouldn’t say, “I told you so."

“You look like you had a blast,” Harry remarked dryly, opening the door for you.

You suppressed the urge to launch into a full rant. “Oh, yeah, great time,” you replied with equal sarcasm.

You both collapsed onto the couch— you sprawled out, Harry sitting up beside you like you were about to start a therapy session. Without missing a beat, you let the floodgates open.

“He literally talked about himself the entire time,” you began, voice dripping with frustration. “He asked me what I like to do, and as soon as I told him, he started lecturing me on his ‘interpretation of creativity.’ And it didn’t stop. For the entire date.”

Harry grinned, clearly entertained, as you continued your rant, eyes narrowing as you remembered every detail.

“And every conversation has to be this deep, philosophical, soul-searching dive— like, ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space,’ you know? The kind of thing you'd hear from the most insufferable kid in a first year psych class.”

You huffed, running a hand through your hair as the memory played in your mind. “Do you want me to continue?” You looked up at Harry. “It gets a little…18+.”

Harry's jaw slightly clenched, but he let out a chuckle. “Oh really? His personality wasn’t enough of a red flag?” He teased you, you burst out into laughter.

“Okay, okay, you have no right to judge, we’re both victims of making bad decisions when we’re horny.” You joked.

“Mm, I don’t know, I would’ve left after the ‘We’re just floating on a ball in space’ comment.”

“First of all, he didn’t actually say that…..that was just his vibe.” You corrected, both of you continuing to laugh. “And second of all, I KNOW you still would have slept with him, especially if you hadn’t been with anyone in four months.” You reminded him.

“Oh would I? No amount of horniness would have even made me go back to that type of person’s house.”

“You’re a liar. “ you said, dying of laughter. “Do I have to remind you of that girl you slept with, the one who kept saying ‘actually’ in front of very compliment, that you hated? ‘You’re actually funny. You’re actually kind of cute. You’re actually smart. What was her name? Lily? Lucy?”

“It was Laura.” He sheepishly corrected you

“And if I remember correctly, it wasn’t just one night, even after she described your sex as ‘actually good’, so I don’t want any judgment from you.” He surrendered, and let you continue.

“I’ll spare you the intimate details…I’ll just say, I didn’t necessarily leave satisfied.”

“Did you finish?”

“He finished. I didn’t.”

“Y/N.” He titled his head towards you in disbelief.

You stayed silent, almost trying to hide a smile out of embarrassment. He shook his head in disapproval.

“This is why I don’t go on dates. All I got was a shitty dinner and I still haven’t had a non-self inflicted orgasm in 4 months.”

He held his arm out as an invitation to invite you closer to him. Accepting his invitation, you leaned against him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Did you go home and…help yourself?” He asked, rubbing your back in consolation.

“No! I went home, took a shower, and then came straight here!” He chuckled, pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him.

“You don’t have to end the night unsatisfied,” he teased, his voice low with a playful edge.

“You promised no judgment,” you laughed, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. His silence, paired with the look in his eyes, made it clear he wasn’t entirely joking.

“I’m just saying... there’s an easy fix,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Both of you laughed, though the underlying seriousness in your tones couldn’t be ignored.

“An easy fix? Like what?” you asked, your voice dropping slightly, the flirtation slipping into your words.

“Well, let’s say you wanted to,” He guided you off his lap, sitting you next to him. “You could lay down right here.”

You lowered your back onto the couch, your heart pounding harder than ever.

“Is this okay?” He clarified. You nodded and he continued. “I could come up here, make you feel better.” He crawled up to your neck, laying kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone.

He kneeled down on the ground in front of the couch. His hand shifted down to the button of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them and lowering them down your leg.

“You're in control here. Anytime you want to stop or do something else, you let me know, I want to make you feel good.” Your chest quickly moved up and down and you hummed in acknowledgment.

He grabbed your leg, placing it on one of his shoulders, kissing the other leg until he got to your inner thigh. Before he could continue you grabbed the ends of your top, quickly pulling it off to reveal your bra. Harry gave you a cheeky smile before he continued.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, sucking the delicate skin until a string of tiny purple bruises dotted your thighs.

“Please, Harry.” You whined in an impatient tone.

His eyes shot up to your face. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please…please Harry.” The eagerness that had been building up in you for the past four months started to come up all at once.

“You need to learn patience, baby.” He teased you, lightly grazing his lips along your inner thigh. Finally, he grabbed your underwear and helped you out of them.

He planted his lips over your clit, expertly curling his tongue around the swollen area and flicking until your hips bucked. His arms curled around your thighs, pulling you to him and splaying a hand over your stomach to keep your hips still. He flattened his tongue against your clit to give you the pressure that you desperately craved.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny. So wet. Is this all for me?”

You hastily nodded, unable to speak.

Your hand tugged hard on his hair as his tongue worked delicately hard across your clit. Harry took one last look at your flushed face before moving his fingers at a punishing pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could tell that you were holding back a bit, since you two had been friends for a while, yet this was your first interaction past a simple cuddle. He lifted his mouth from you.

“It’s alright, sweet thing. I got you, I want to make you feel good.”

He went back to pleasuring you, his ability to make you feel this good felt so natural. You focused on him, trying to push any nerves to the back of your head. His hand that rested on your stomach grabbed your hand, wrapping his fingers around your hand, giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

A shudder rippled through your body and a deep moan erupted from your throat as you came around his fingers. Harry focused on you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

He climbed back up to you, sweeping your hair from your face and kissing your forehead, your nose, and your cheeks. “It’s okay, sweet baby.” He cood, your eyes stayed closed as you catched your breath.

You mindlessly pulled him closer to you, hiding your face in his neck, needing immediate aftercare after your powerful orgasm.

“Wanna go upstairs…an-help you.” You breathlessly begged, kissing his neck and lowering your hand down his abdomen.

“Okay sweet thing, let’s go upstairs.”

[read part two here!]

[babyleostuff]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 588

⦗💌 ⦘ mingyu loves his two girls to death. even if he gets bullied by them on a daily basis.

“daddy! daddy look!” a comically small hand grabbed the hem of mingyu’s jumper, and pulled at it. with a small smirk (that obviously went unnoticed by the carbon copy of his wife because according to her he was a giant), mingyu turned his head towards the sky, just to tease the little girl. 

“mommy!” she whined, wrapping both of her arms around mingyu’s legs, “daddy is ignoring me again!” 

you sighed, and shook your head. what was supposed to be a nice post-dinner stroll around the neighbourhood turned into the usual - mingyu teasing your little girl with no end, because a minute of peace was too much for him. at least bopul was behaving himself. 

but then an idea struck you. mingyu could tease you and your daughter as much as he wished, but you both had him wrapped around your little fingers, and there wasn’t much you had to do to leave your husband pouty and sulky. you crouched in front of your little girl, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “tell daddy no kisses for a week. and no pre-bedtime cuddles,” you whispered, and kissed her cheek gently. 

she nodded vigorously, matching your bright smile. a lot of people told you she looked exactly like you (except for mingyu’s eyes, and the little mole on her nose), but her personality had to be even more similar to yours. making mingyu suffer had to be one of her favourite things as well. 

“kim mingyu,” she said, tilting her head towards the sky. “up,” she added and put her hands up, something she did whenever she wanted mingyu to carry her. 

“gosh, when did you become so bossy, hm?” he cooed at her, but the little girl didn’t fall for her dad's sudden change of heart. 

“mommy is bossy, and i want to be like mommy,” she said as a matter of fact, like that didn’t just make your heart burst with love. “besides , that’s not the point,” she took mingyu’s face in her tiny hands, “no kisses, and no pre-bedtime cuddles for you, daddy.” 

you had to stifle a laugh, as the corners of your husband’s mouth momentarily turned down. “w-what do mean no-”

“no, daddy. you were being mean to me,” your daughter smushed his cheeks in between her hands. “and,” she leaned into mingyu’s ear, “you won’t get any kisses from mommy either. she’s angry too.” 

mingyu looked over his daughter's shoulder and sent you a pleading look. "i was just joking," he said, the slight pout evident in his voice. your little girl giggled and snuggled into her daddy's neck, making mingyu tighten his embrace around her. "girls, please."

“not this time, kim mingyu,” you smiled and walked over to your daughter and husband. "us girls have to stick together, right honey?" you rubbed the girl's cheek, making her laugh even more.

"yes, mommy," she said and nodded eagerly.

mingyu sighed and shook his head in resignation. if it was anyone else he’d keep fighting just to strike their nerve even more, but when he looked down at you smiling fondly at your little bundle of love and chaos that he was holding in his arms, mingyu didn’t have it in him to keep teasing his daughter. 

“i love you two so much, you know” he said. “and if you won’t give me kisses, then you can be damn sure i will.” 

“words min-,” 

“oh shut up,” he said, and wrapped his free arm around your waist to pull you to his chest.

natalia's note: i don't know how children work, so if something is inaccurate - sorry (i have no idea why i wrote this)

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl@uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy@icyminghao@heeseungthel0ml@goyangiiwonu@bath1lda@ruurooozz@ny0sang@luuxian

[whateveriwant]

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[obsessedwithceleste]

Flowers

soft! Mattheo Riddle x reader

Summary: You just wanted your boyfriend to buy you flowers. He got a bit confused along the way.

word count: 1.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You’d never been the type of girl who particularly enjoyed flashy, grand gestures. In fact, the mere thought of all eyes on you as a boy professed his undying love for you made you want to toss yourself off of the astronomy tower. And yet, here you were, watching as Lorenzo Berkshire presented your best friend, Daphne Greengrass, with yet another huge bouquet of gorgeous flowers and wishing your own boyfriend would do the same.

You let out a soft sigh, glancing at your boyfriend whose arm was wrapped securely around your shoulders as the two of you lounged on the sofa in the library. Matteo wasn’t a bad boyfriend by any means. Really, you loved the way he showered you in attention, always eager to please. However, he wasn’t exactly up to speed when it came to romantic gestures. Normally you didn’t mind, but every girl wanted to be treated like a princess sometimes you supposed.

“Oh Enz, these are beautiful!” Daphne gushed, giving her boyfriend a peck on the lips as he smiled adoringly down at her.

“Anything for you love,” the boy replies easily, taking the seat next to her, and pulling her in so that she was leaning into him.

“Geez, get a bloody room would you?” Theodore complains as the two cozy up together.

You roll your eyes at your friend. “Shut it Theo, I think it’s sweet.” You then turn to your own boyfriend. “You know Matteo, Enz gets Daphne flowers every week. I wish you did that.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives you a confused look.

“Really?” He asks.

You nod earnestly. “I think it’d be nice.”

Matteo gives you another concerned glance before shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright, love.” He says, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You smile warmly at the boy, resting your head on his shoulder before continuing your reading for ancient runes.

“I’m proud of you for finally sticking up for yourself, y/n.” Daphne says, placing her bag down as she takes a seat next to you in the Great Hall.

“Oh? What chapter did we miss?” Pansy asks from across the table where she and Astoria sat.

You furrow your eyebrows, also confused as to where Daph was going with this.

“In the library this afternoon, y/n finally got on Matt’s case about how he never does anything romantic for her. I mean, you’ve been together for what? Almost a year? And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring you flowers. Not once!” Daphne says, filling her plate.

“Oh. I mean, I really don’t mind all that much to be honest. You and Enzo just always look so sweet, I thought it’d be nice for a change. I don’t really expect him to do it every week like Enzo does,” you reply.

“See, but it’s the principle of it all isn’t it? Of course I like the fact that Draco is constantly buying me random gifts, but I would be fine without them. It’s that he’s thinking of me, and taking a bit of time to go out of his way to show me that, yeah?” Astoria says.

You tilt your head, considering your friend’s words.

“I suppose I never thought of it like that,” you tell her.

“Well you should. The bloody bullshit we put up with dating those boys, buying us nice things is really the least they can do,” she replies.

You let out a snort, laughing at your friend’s candidness.

As if to illustrate her point, the rowdy laughter of the boys could be heard from the entrance as they made their way over to your table. You frown as Matteo takes his usual place beside you, seeing a fresh cut on his cheekbone.

“Matteo Bartholomew Riddle.” You sigh, reaching up to touch his face.

“Bartholomew? Bloody hell mate, I’d have to avada myself with a middle name like that,” Draco laughs, plopping down next to Astoria.

He doesn’t even flinch as your finger tips make contact with the cut, only sighing as he glares at Draco before looking down at you with his large puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck off Lucius. And you know that isn’t even my middle name, love,” he says, reaching across the table to steal a roll from Theo’s plate.

“Well you won’t tell me your real one, so I’ll continue making up ridiculous ones until then. Now what on earth did you get up to now, and how many days of detention did you get?”

Matteo frowns, jutting out his bottom lip at you.

“What makes you so sure I got a detention?”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow at the boy.

“Three days. With McGonagall.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head and turn back to face Astoria whose face practically read ‘you see what I mean?’

“Man got into a scuffle with some Hufflepuff. Swear those yellow bastards look unassuming but they’re demons,” Theo says filling you and the other girls in.

Matteo glares at his friend.

“Snitch,” he mumbles, stuffing the roll into his mouth.

“Like she wasn’t going to find out anyway,” Theo replies, brushing him off.

Once again rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you focus on finishing your meal, listening to the idle chatter of your friends as Matteo’s hand finds yours under the table.

By the following week, you had all but forgotten your request for your boyfriend to bring you flowers. When you saw Matteo enter the Great Hall with a large bouquet of assorted flowers however, a smile grew across your face. Then, your smile wavered slightly, growing into confusion as Matteo made his way to the other side of the table, tapping Daphne on the shoulder.

Daphne and Enzo look back at Matteo with utter confusion as your boyfriend thrusts the flowers towards your friend.

“Uh. Here.” He says awkwardly as the two stare up at him with bewilderment.

You blink once. Then twice before Daphne breaks the silence.

“Matteo, respectfully, what the fuck?” She asks.

“Look, I don’t know either. I’m just as confused as you are,” Matteo says, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

You look incredulously between your boyfriend, the flowers, and finally Daphne before realization hits you and your head drops into your hand. This bloody idiot.

“Matteo. Love. When I said, Enzo brings Daphne flowers every week, you should too, I meant for me. As in, you should bring your girlfriend flowers too,” you say with exasperation. Lord help you.

Matteo’s mouth forms an ‘o’ before he smiles sheepishly at you, rounding the table and now thrusting the flowers towards you.

“For you, my lady,” he says proudly.

You let out a laugh, accepting the flowers as your boyfriend takes his seat next to you.

“Matt you are so lucky y/n puts up with your shit,” Daphne sighs, shaking her head fondly at the two of you.

“But also, ever try giving my girl flowers again and I’ll curse your bed. I know where you sleep.” Enzo adds.

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t scared of you Berkshire you big softie.”

“I’ll Avada you.”

“I’d write you letters in Azkaban.” Daphne says sweetly as the boys continue to throw threats each other’s way.

You shake your head at your friend’s antics, smiling softly as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the flowers your boyfriend had finally presented you with.

“Thank you Matteo,” you say, briefly interrupting the boy’s loud chattering to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek.

I know this is so short, but I’ve been wanting to write this scene for the longest time, and couldn’t find a way to fit it into a longer fic 🫠

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[chaiisms]

BALDURS GATE 3 PARTY BANTER PROMPTS LIST.

all of the following prompts are taken from party banter between the companions in larian studios' baldurs gate 3 (2023). there should be no spoilers! also, a disproportionate amount of these are from astarion and karlach. i'm not sorry.

I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, [ name ]?

You'll be as depraved as the rest of us in no time.

Friend of yours?

Were you always so sneaky?

If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.

How are we not there yet? My feet are killing me.

This is what I get for trying to strike up conversation.

We're not going to have trouble, are we?

If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

Do you have pet names for each other yet?

[ name ]! Was that a joke?

You know what - that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

Given your own nature, are you really the one to judge?

You can read?!

I'm surprised - I expected you to turn your back once you got what you wanted.

I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

Can't say I love what they've done with the place.

I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'.

You have so much to learn. Repeat after me: honey muffin, sweetie pie, sugarplum.

Nice to be in a crowd of normal people for once.

So [ name ], how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

You seemed a million miles away just then.

I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, [ name ].

Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

Step one of starting a conversation: think before you speak.

I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently…

All right, just keep it down. We're conspicuous enough without your hyena call.

Not one for roughing it, I see.

Why not have a little fun?

You're right, of course. Forgive me.

My money's on you, [ name ].

The echoes - listen! They're coming from three directions!

Want me to carry you?

Feeling at home?

Treat them right, or you'll have me to answer to.

Oh, darling, would you?

No doubt they found me too intimidating.

A girl could get used to this.

Now I don't know what to believe.

Well - yes, it was a joke.

I know that, too. It just wasn't funny.

And here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?

Oh, I wouldn't actually leave. After all, where would you be without me?

You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

Well what would impress you, then?

Let's just stop this conversation right here, shall we?

Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here

You've clearly thought this through a great deal. I'm impressed and appalled in equal measure.

Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

I never was scared of the shadows.

I know you're not really as heartless as all that.

I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry.

Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby?

Pragmatism, thy name is [ name ].

That's ironic, coming from you.

We're either very clever or very lucky.

You do not need luck to survive, [ name ]. Not when you have me.

That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky.

Stop gawking at the decor. This place is dangerous.

I can't tell if you're joking.

So, what's it like caring for someone other than yourself, [ name ]?

You think I'm beautiful?

I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

Yet another thing we have in common. We're two peas in a pod.

Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?

Use your words.

You gonna catch me if I eat a brick?

[ name ], I've heard you talking in your sleep.

Let's never speak of this again.

You can take a day off once in a while, [ name ]

Hey! Something bit me.

Cheer up. It might be all downhill from here.

I love a nice secret hideaway, don't you?

Think the bar is open?

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Vash being flustered by compliments, acting like a total loser please? Lots of “Buwuhh?! uhhh I- That’s really kind of you to-” or him spilling his drink, stumbling on nothing and trying to laugh it off, moments would be extremely appreciated. 🙏♥️

Aweeee thanks for this request!

(note I wrote this with Tristamp Vash in mind)

...........

"You know..your laugh is adorable."

In an instant, Vash fell into silence, the tips of his ears turning a pinkish hue as he stared at you from across the table. With a drink in one hand, he shakily set it down--only to clumsily spilling small droplets onto the flat surface.

But he tried to play it cool by propping his elbow over the mess, smiling. "Ahaha..thanks. That's...actually very nice of you to say. Most people think my laughs are "evil", but-"

"Oh that's nonsense." You leaned over a bit, smirking as you could see the nervous sweat beginning to manifest along your partner's hairline. "That's because they don't know what genuine laughter is. One as joyous as yours is so hard to come by these days. You've been through a lot. Endured things that would easily kill a person's spirit. And here you are, still finding ways to laugh and smile and see the good in others."

"Well..I..I think I deserve to do that every once in a while."

"Of course you do. Your smiles are brighter than the damn sun...and your hair, for that matter. But all that kindness and hope? Your emphasis on "love and peace"? That's attractive."

Your wink is what nearly sent the Humanoid Typhoon over the edge, as he squeaked in surprise at your words, before noticing Meryl, Roberto, and Wolfwood at their own table, having a chat about the worms in the sand and sky...only for their gazes to land on him.

Knowing smirks appeared on their faces when they realized what was going on.

You were flustering the hell out of Vash.

It only made his growing blush worsen, and he sheepishly threw his hood over his head to hide it, turning back to you. "Th-They're watching us, you know.." He mumbled.

"So what? Let them watch. They already know how smitten you are over me, anyway." You chuckled and reached a hand out. His advanced prosthetic fingers instinctively reached back, intertwining their coldness with your warmth. "I love your arm, too. It's amazing, perfect...just like you, honey."

"Ah...! Thank you...h-honey. Haha.." At this point, he knew he lost the war..you were just too damn good at this. Pushing away your compliments was useless now, so he resolved to just covering his face with his free hand.

His heart was hammering uncontrollably, and for once in his life..it wasn't due to the adrenaline of fleeing from gun-totting bandits or cyborgs.

It was because of love.

The very thing he hoped to stand for.

Ever since getting together with Vash, and learning how hard he often was on himself..you made it your mission to let him know how much you adored him.

He was afraid you'd be scared off by the bounty on his head, or the fact he had to constantly be on the move...or that a whole town could turn on him at the drop of a hat....or that twin brother of his would find you two.

But you've made it clear time and time again that you weren't leaving his side no matter what, and by god you were sticking to that promise even when he attempted to push you away a few times before.

You'd go anywhere in No Man's Land, unless it wasn't with him.

The moment he realized you're in this for the long run, you helped him let his guard down a little, defending his name and trying to show him common traditions of human couples--or at least..whichever ones you could recreate on this planet.

Even when you weren't around him, people would ask what "horrors" you've faced during your encounters with the "terrifying" Vash the Stampede, imagining you barely escaping with your life while he smiles and laughs at the mass destruction and death that surrounds him..

But what they don't know (and probably never will) is that his smiles and laughs were simply the products of your endless ways of complimenting him...such as right now.

You had this man--who had the power to bring down an empire if he wanted to--stammering over his words, acting incredibly shy, and being unusually giggly. And he's barely touched a drop of liquor since your small group stopped in the bar for refuge from the desert heat.

Some of the patrons wondered how drunk he was to be acting the way he did, while others looked upon you two with fondness, now convinced that love may not be dead just yet.

As long as Vash was here, that will continue to exist, and you'll be there to show him that he's worthy of it, too.

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin

# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗

🌿┊ASTARION

Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.

Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.

He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.

He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.

Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.

Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.

The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.

He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.

🌿┊GALE

So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.

Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.

Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.

Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.

He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.

Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.

🌿┊WYLL

If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.

The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.

Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.

Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.

Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.

Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.

You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.

🌿┊HALSIN

Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.

Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.

Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.

Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.

Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.

I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.

Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.

[ivys-garden]

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

[heavenbarnes]

Jesus loves her, she wants more

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x AFAB Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB (no pronouns), blasphemy, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex (always use protection), finishing inside, swearing, mentions of knives (it's a kitchen), inappropriate workplace relationship (boss/employee), idiots at the end.

Word Count: 2.9k

Working title was "No harm, no foul: How a praise kink nearly ruined a career." No, really, this stemmed from my immediate understanding that I'd never be able to work for this man.

Good job.

Fundamentally, that's what it was. It's a good job, it's a good location, it's good pay (for the most part).

It's a good job.

You're good at it, if you do say so yourself. Prepping food, thin slices, plating up, it comes naturally to you.

You do a good job.

At least that's what he tells you.

"Chef-" Carmy's voice cut through the air, your plate in his hands as he swiped the edge of it with his cloth.

You waited for the drop, the punchline, the clincher- whatever you wanted to call it, you could feel yourself on the knife's edge waiting for it.

"Good job, it's beautiful."

It's a good job that you're good at.

Not something that you'd want to jeopardise, you know that much to be true.

"Good job, chef."

"Nice, chef, nice."

"Making me happy, chef. Keep that up."

It should be enough, good job with a good team and a boss that isn't a total jackass.

"Just like that, chef."

It's not like you're doing it on purpose, just one of those things you cannot control.

"Yes, chef."

You're good at what you do, and Carmy's good at reminding you.

"That's it, chef, that's it."

A little distracting, that's all it is. No harm, no foul.

-

You tucked your fingertips against the carrot, knuckles against the flat of the knife as you followed it through the vegetable. Tiny matchsticks flitted against the chopping board as you carried out the motions.

Perfecting your julienne cut was your new-week resolution and it'd been riding your ass a bit. You didn't know if your eyes were betraying you after all the repetition but you were sure the sticks were getting bigger.

Placing your knife down, you lent until your nose was centimetres from the board, laying up two pieces of carrots together. So intent on your task of comparison, you didn't even register the office door opening.

"Still here, chef?"

You'd hoped Carmy had missed the way his presence made you jump, but in all honesty, he could've passed a bus under you. His brows rose a little as you did, the faintest hint of a smile under his expression.

"Yes, chef." You stepped away from the carrots you'd had under a microscope. "Just trying to get my prep done for tomorrow."

He didn't say anything, just nodded knowingly as he stepped towards your space. A nervous glance around the kitchen confirmed for you that everyone else had gone home. Come to think of it, you vaguely remember them throwing you a 'goodbye' or two as they left.

It was just you and Carmy.

Your attention was drawn back to him as he brought his elbows forward to lean on the bench in front of you. He surveyed your handiwork, picking one of the carrot sticks out of the pile.

When he held it between his thumb and forefinger, it looked considerably smaller than it had before. Truthfully, it looked-

"Perfectly julienned, chef."

The lump in your throat caught and refused to release. You swallowed harshly, nodding your head with a queasy smile.

"Thank you, chef. Been practicing hard."

He placed the piece of carrot between his lips and nodded. It seemed to be in agreement, that he'd seen you practicing hard and was well aware.

"They look bad to you because you've been doing it too long."

So, not only was he a masterfully talented chef- Carmy had also acquired the ability to mindread.

"Leaning half a millimetre from the board isn't going to help either."

You snorted a laugh out your nose and it was your turn to nod in agreement. You reminded yourself that he'd probably been in this spot before, he wasn't really a mindreader.

At least you hoped he wasn't. He'd probably think you were fucking depraved.

You both looked towards the one last carrot you had to prep before you could allow yourself to rest. Dragging it onto the board, you suddenly became acutely aware of Carmy's gaze on you.

Flickering your eyes up, you found him already looking at your face and not your knife. The silence that past between the both of you was loud, his expression never moved an inch.

"Show me how you do it, chef?"

Jesus Christ.

Swallowing against that lump in your throat, you nodded once before finally breaking eye contact. Focusing back on your hands, you measured your knife up against the carrot for your first stroke.

This was going to be just your luck. Carmy's presence would, undoubtedly, screw over your chances of impressing him. You could already feel your wrist shaking as you tried to follow through with the weight of your knife handle.

Three or four strikes in, you felt a gentle touch against your elbow. Silently, you prided yourself in not letting that make you jump this time. Carmy was reaching across the bench, hand holding your elbow in closer to your side and subsequently improving the cut of your knife.

Moving his hand away, you allowed yourself to feel a strike of disappointment as you kept your elbow where he left it. Disappointment dissipated into heart-palpitations as you caught Carmy moving around to your side of the bench in your peripheral vision.

Stood on your side, you could feel him watching your every move like a hawk. You tried your hardest to focus on the food before you, paying no attention to the way his eyes were no longer on the same thing. The feeling of his gaze on the side of your face was unmistakable.

"Just like that, chef."

If your lip didn't start bleeding from the pressure your teeth had around it, it'd be a miracle. You had a hard enough time being normal when he was walking behind you in a kitchen full of people. But this?

This?

Alone, nearly pressed against your side. Undivided attention perfectly trained on you. Quiet but constant praise for your work. Breath ghosting across you and faintly tinged by the piece of carrot he'd stolen earlier.

You thought you might pass out.

What once was a whole carrot soon became one last match stick, gathering them at the edge of the board with the blade of your knife. Carmy finally looked away from you and back to the board, studying the product of your efforts.

"Very good chef."

"Thank you, chef."

Flickering your eyes to the side, you found him fixed back on you again. You held the tension a moment until you felt something pressing against your side.

Carmy was handing you the plastic container for your carrots.

"Oh- thank you, chef."

He stepped off as you collected them all into the container and laid the labelled tape across the lid. Picking up the cucumbers you'd worked through earlier, you stepped around Carmy to reach the chiller. Propping the door open with your foot, you lent into the place your prep on the shelves.

Stepping back out, you swung the door shut and turned on your heel to find Carmy leaning across the bench in front of you. His arms were crossed against his chest as he just lingered.

"You did good today, chef." He remarked, pulling the cloth off his shoulder and pocketing it in his apron. "Deserve to go home and get some rest."

God damn it.

You didn't want this to end. Sure, your feet were fucking killing you and you were pretty sure your eyes would shut of their own accord any moment - but this shouldn't end.

There was a pit in the bottom of your stomach that said this wouldn't happen again. The kitchen would be full, Carmy wouldn't be so close, so kind, so- him.

Trying to reason with yourself was a bit redundant. Every time you'd had the talk with yourself, the 'chances are, he isn't actually into you' talk, there was still a bigger voice convincing you that there was still a chance he was.

Then that talk developed into, the 'just because you can, doesn't mean you should' talk. That one was arguably more important. That talk was reminding yourself that it was a good job, a good gig, something you shouldn't mess up.

Going after your boss was a sort of surefire way to mess it up. You had it good, you didn't need to push it any further because pushing it could well and good send it over the edge.

You were good, this was good, keep it good.

"You're good, chef. Very good."

Let sleeping dogs lie.

"Real nice, chef."

Pretty fucking distracting.

"There isn't anything else I can help with tonight?" One shot, you'll give yourself one shot.

If he politely declines, then that's your signal to leave this one be. Go home, go to bed, come back tomorrow, do some good work.

Carmy placed his hands on the bench behind him and used the leverage to push himself up to standing. He took one step closer to you, almost bridging the gap.

"You any good at paperwork?"

Yes, chef. Very good.

-

Carmy's foot kicked his office door shut as you walked backwards into the room, the backs of your thighs hitting the edge of the desk. The move of his lips against yours was torturous, somehow better than those late night fantasies you usually treated yourself to.

One of his arms looped around your back, pulling you into his front as the other swiped out behind you to clear off his desk. The aforementioned paperwork went flying to the floor, floating delicately around your feet as he took up space between your parted thighs.

You'd been fighting with the arousal that'd claimed home in the pit of your stomach since he'd appeared earlier in the night. You knew that you'd have to sate it soon before it killed you.

However.

There was an even bigger part of you that knew exactly what you wanted, what you need. That part of you knew that if Carmy was that generous with praise when you so much as seared a steak, you were sure you'd could get it in other ways.

Allowing his tongue to take over your mouth, you ran your hands down his chest and tugged at his apron. He quickly pulled back to take it from over his head, back to kissing you as he untied it from his back. Your fingers began burrowing under his chef's whites, palm smoothing over his crotch.

Groaning into your mouth, he bucked his hips into your hand as you started breaching his waistband. One hand on his pants, the other cupping his jaw, you turned the both of you so he was leaning against the desk. Slowly, you dropped down to your knees before looking up at him with a smile.

He had that look of bewilderment across his face that you sometimes saw when the kitchen was overwhelming him. This time, he was just taking things in, grappling with the fact he finally had you on your knees before him.

Undoing his pants, you brought them down his thighs just enough to free his cock into your hand. Holding it in one hand, you ran your tongue from the base to the tip in one long stroke. Carmy shuddered above you, one hand gripping the table and the other taking your head.

"This good, chef?"

His eyes screwed shut, a long and shaky breath leaving his chest as he nodded furiously.

"Very good, you're very good." He sucked another breath back in. "But you cannot call me 'chef' right now or I'll never be able to work in the kitchen again."

"Heard, ch- Carmen."

He wasn't sure if his full name was going to help him any better, the way his hips stuttered and pushed the head of his cock through your lips. Your tongue enveloped him, suctioning around him as you bobbed your head into him.

Saliva filled your cheeks, running out the corners of your mouth as you pushed right down on him. Carmy's head tipped back, hand securing tighter around the back of your head to keep you there.

"That's it, just like that - you're doing so good."

Your thighs squeezed together in your spot on the floor. That praise sounded better than any time you'd successfully plated a dish, that was in a league of it's own.

Looking up, it was nearly enough to put you in an early grave. His hair was disheveled as ever, but knowing that it was your doing was different. He opened his eyes in time to see you watching him, a cocky smile drifted across the bliss on his face.

"You know you're good, don't you?"

Pulling off him with a pop, you wiped away some spit as you smiled proudly.

"Mhmm, yes, Carmen."

His smile dropped as you spoke, one of your hands still jerking him off as the other came to cup his balls. He went to speak again but was betrayed by the moan that fell out instead.

The hand on your head moved around to your jaw, cupping it gently to tilt up and look at him. "Up here, please."

You'd never get enough of his orders. He had a way of saying them in the kitchen that made you forget a "please" even existed. That being said, the way he used a "please" was something else all together.

Coming up off your knees, you allowed him to make quick work of your chef's whites, pushing your pants down to your knees. He pressed you up against the desk, tilting your head back to he could re-capture your lips with his.

You felt the blunt head of him pressing against your entrance, collecting the slick as he began to push in. Your mouth dropped open, allowing him to get his tongue back into it, as he had before. His initial stretch had your knees buckling, until his arm tightened around your front to hold you up.

"Next time, I want my mouth on you," He hummed against your lips. "Wanna' hear those manners of yours."

There was so much to unpack in his one sentence.

One, there was going to be a next time. He envisioned this happening more than once.

Two, he noticed your manners, your responsiveness in the kitchen. Your manners to him was his praise to you.

Carmy's hips snapped into motion as he drove himself into you, repeatedly rocking into you. Your chest opened up with a symphony of moans, unable to keep any of it to yourself.

"That's it, lets hear what you have to say, huh?"

"Carmen- feels, fuck, feels-"

"Mmm? Feels good?"

"Feels so fucking good."

He hummed contentedly, satisfied with your babbling in bliss. "Always so responsive for me."

You shot an arm out in front of you to brace on the desk, all of this at once was a touch overwhelming. Coupled with the way Carmy slipped his free hand down to touch you, circling his fingers until your back was arching for him.

The coil in the pit of your stomach was wound dangerously tight, ready to snap at any moment. Carmy was dead set on getting you there, skilled fingers matched with the steady roll of his hips, your vision was beginning to blur with tiny stars pricking the corners.

"Fuck- Carmen, I'm gonna'-"

"Yeah, you are." He cooed, hips picking up just a touch. "Let me here it, baby."

And that did it.

You always knew it'd be his words that did it. Part of him knew it too.

Your whole body wound tight, muscles strained until you felt it come loose inside you. A white-hot flood overtook you, legs shaking as you felt yourself tip right over the edge.

Carmy had a good hold on you, working you through your orgasm as your body was giving out on you. Once the blood rushing in your ears quieted down, you could hear the faint sounds of him talking you through it.

"Very good."

"That's it."

"Just like that."

Letting your arms give out, your front laid against Carmy's desk as he chased towards his own high. You felt one of his palms splayed against your lower back, pulling you back onto him as he drilled his hips into you.

"You want it? Think you've earnt it?"

You threw him a look back over your shoulder, fucked out expression with a blissed smile painted on your face. "Yes, chef."

Carmy's hips stuttered, his eyes locked on yours as he still with his final thrust. Coming hot inside you, his final pumps sending aftershocks through your body as you enjoyed the way it overtook him entirely.

You watched the way he pulled out, tapping his cock against your ass a couple times before helping you pull your pants back up. Both of you fixed your chef's gear in the office, quickly picking up the discarded papers that managed to reach all corners of the room.

Both of you went to your lockers, grabbing your belongings and purposefully ignoring the time on the clock beside you. As you shrugged your jacket on, you couldn't help but peer beside you. Thankfully, Carmy was already looking your way.

You both shared a smile that soon broke into quiet laughter as you picked your bag up. You couldn't even help yourself. "So, did I do good?"

"Yes, chef," Carmy rolled his eyes with a snort. "Good job."

[o-flairegan]

Give Me Something to Die For

Pairing- Sam Carpenter x female reader

Word Count- 6.5k

Summary-You meet Sam after she has a drink thrown in her face and you offer her your jacket. The interaction leads to more than you would ever expect

Warnings- NSFW, fingering, vaginal sex, strap on sex, temperature play, knife play, minor overstimulation, mirror sex

Sam's also a bit ooc, sorry

Taunts are flung and then a drink goes flying and you watch absolutely horrified before stepping in between the group of three girls and the woman they are taunting.

“Don’t you have something better to be doing with your time,” you voice harshly, your eyes as cold as the wind whipping around us.

The girls lower their phones as you continue to hold their gaze and be a shield between the two parties. The tension eases from your shoulders as they finally move off, and with a sigh of relief you turn and look at the soaked woman.

“Hey are you okay,” you ask softly, trying not to spook the other woman.

She looks up and you, sighs softly, and nods. “I’m fine, just a bit shaken. It’s not every day someone throws a drink in my face and calls me a murderer,” she mutters softly, her jaw clenched in frustration. “It’s just stupid rumors that won’t die.”

You nod, not exactly sure what to make of the other woman’s statement. You pull off your jacket and hand it to the woman as you notice her shiver in the night air.  You are thankful that for once you are wearing layers.

She takes the offered jacket with a grateful nod, slipping it on with a murmured “Thanks”. “I swear, some people just won’t leave me alone after they read Gale Weathers most recent book,” she says, rolling her eyes, frustration painted clearly on her face.

“I’m sorry. People are assholes, clearly.”

She shrugs. “It’s not your fault. I just wish people would use their brains before believing everything they read on the internet.” She pauses, looking at you curiously. “You at least don’t seem to think I’m a murderer.” She gives you a half smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“I don’t know you so I just see someone having a shitty night.” You look her over, “Keep the jacket, it looks good on you.”

She grins at you, “Well if you insist.” She adjusts the jacket, and zips it up, making herself more comfortable. “You are really sweet you know that? Not many people would stick up for me like that.”

You shove your hands in your jean pockets, “Yeah well, everyone deserves to have someone care about them. Even if it is a random stranger.”

The woman’s expression softened and she meets your gaze warmly, “You are right…. And I’m glad that you were that someone for me tonight.” She takes a step closer, leaning into you slightly, “Would you like to come back to my place for a bit? I could use some company.”

You smile softly, “You know what fuck it, sure.”

She smiles back, and gestures back the way you came from, “It’s just down the way and to the left. So do you actually have a name, or should I just call you “kind stranger”?” She teases softly, gently nudging your shoulder as you walk together.

You offer your name and you can see the flicker of something in her dark brown eyes.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Sam, Sam Carpenter.” She says as if expecting a reaction to the name, her eyes flickering across your body as you walk alongside her. She smiles widely as the two of you approach her building, pulling you with her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had shown her such care without some ulterior motives.

The two of you walk up several flights of stairs and Sam’s hand in yours feels like a promise but you don’t know of what.

Sam unlocks the front door gesturing for you to come in. “Make yourself at home, I’m going to go and change out of this, I don’t want to smell like cherry coke for the rest of the night.” She disappears down the hall and you watch her go.

You decide to sit on the couch and look around the space, it is cozy and doesn’t feel cluttered in the way that some New York apartments can be. It is also bigger than most.

Sam returns to find you sitting on the couch looking at ease with your knees tucked up under you, your shoes having been kicked off.  “So can I get you anything? A drink, some snacks? I think we have some chips and some popcorn.”

You can’t help but smile at how flustered Sam seems, this is a far cry from the woman whose eyes had blazed with fury when facing down those women.

“Water would be lovely,” you answer, wanting at least something to hold in your hands and something to drink.

“Sure, one water coming right up,” Sam replies heading to the kitchen. As she stood at the sink filing the glass you catch Sam looking at you but pretend not to notice.

“Hey, how are you feeling,” you ask wanting to break the silence but also genuinely wanting to know.

“I’m better thanks to you, “Sam says returning to the living room with two glasses of water. She passes one to you before settling on the couch next to you. “You and your jacket were a lifesaver- both literally and metaphorically.” She says with a playful grin.

“Glad I could be of service,” you say with a wink.  You take a sip of water to ease your nerves with your blatant flirting.

Sam smirks, “You are funny, and I like that.” She leans back into the couch, tucking her feet under her as well. She glances up at you, watching for a beat. “You know, I haven’t really had the chance to do this in a long time.”

You look at her puzzled, the woman is gorgeous, how has she not had heaps of attention thrown her way. “A chance to do what,” you ask questioningly.

Sam pauses and seems to consider her next words carefully, “A chance to relax around someone who isn’t my sister, or my immediate friend group. It’s the first time I feel like I can let my guard down, in a very long time and that is rare for me. I’m usually the overprotective paranoid one.”

You take another sip of water and can’t help but wonder just what this woman has gone through to feel this way. “You deserve to be able to relax Sam. I know I’m a literal stranger but I’m glad that I can give you a bit of that.”

Sam’s eyes welled with unshed tears, “Why are you being so nice to me?” She looks at you, her gaze searching and vulnerable. “I’m not a good person, I’ve don’t things to protect myself but there is darkness inside me,” she whispers as a tear finally rolls down her cheek.

You set the water on the table and move closer so you can hold one of her hands. “Hey, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that. I may not know you but everyone has a bit of darkness inside of them. It is how we handle it that defines us.”

You watch as Sam’s eyes flick behind you, before settling back on you.

Sam however sees something entirely different, the visage of her dead father, Billy Loomis. She wants to believe your words, but seeing him just confirms her feelings.

“You seem really sweet Sam, I don’t know what ghosts are haunting you but I hope you know you are more than that,” you say giving her hand a squeeze.

Sam lets out a watery chuckle, wiping away the tears. “Sweet? Oh no, I’ve been called many things but ‘sweet’ is not usually one of them.” Sam squeezes your hand back, running a thumb across your knuckles. “But thank you, I appreciate it.”

You reach out to cup her cheek, but freeze halfway, unsure if the contact would be welcome.

Seeing you hesitate, Sam reaches out and grabs your hand and guides it to her face. She leans into it and an electric thrill passes between you. Her eyes close briefly and when they open again they are darker, “You can touch. I want you to, I want to feel something,” she says holding you there while her fingers are still tangled with your left hand. “Stay the night?”

You nod shakily, not expecting it but certainly not against it.

The moment is broken by a red head walking through the front door, with what I assume is her boyfriend and head through the living room to what I assume is the red heads room. “Hey Sam, sorry for the noise,” the red head says with a taunting smirk, before shutting her door.

You watch as Sam’s eyes narrow. “Thanks for the heads up Quinn,” she says with a growl. Sam stands from the couch and reaches to pull you up with her.

You follow Sam’s lead and are surprised and her strength and a bit turned on by it. As soon as you hear Quinn’s loud noise you realize why Sam is pulling you down the hall she disappeared down earlier.

Sam’s jaw is clenched and her grip on your hand tightens as the sounds of sex seem to echo in the apartment. ‘Fucking typical, “she growls under her breath. The sounds of Quinn’s moans, and the guy’s grunts filtered through the thin walls, and Sam’s eyes flash with annoyance and something else. She turns to you and cups your face, her dark eyes meeting your own.

“Hey, easy. It’s not like I haven’t had my fair share of roommates and heard them having sex. Its awkward but it is what it is,” you say softly, trying to sooth Sam as you feel her fingers flex.

“Sorry,” Sam mutters softly, leaning forward to rest her forehead against your own. “I just hate that she can bring home whatever guy of the week she wants and I can’t have what I want…” She trails off, her body tensing as Quinn lets out a particularly loud cry. Sam couldn’t help the growl that escaped her, her body pressing into yours as the two of you stand in the hallway.

“What do you want,” you rasp out softly, the noises and Sam’s proximity to you affecting you.

Sam’s breath hitched as she looked into your eyes. “I want…” she hesitates, and you can feel her trembling against you. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so badly and then take you to my bed and drown out Quinn’s noise with our own.”

“Please,” you groan out, wanting that more than you’d care to admit. The woman was exactly your type.

With a low groan of her own Sam crushes her lips against your own, pouring all of her frustration and desire into the kiss. Her hands grip your waist, pulling your bodies as flush as they can be as her tongue darts into your mouth deepening the kiss.

You kiss back, letting your tongue tangle with hers in your mouth. Your hands move down to grip her ass as you roll your hips into her.

Sam’s hands tighten against your waist as she feels your hands on her ass. She breaks the kiss, panting and resting her forehead against your own. “Not here,” she whispers hoarsely. “My room. Now,” She says reaching behind her to fumble with the door knob.

You nod, not trusting your words.

Sam pulls you into her room and slams the door; she pushes you onto the bed, growling for you to wait there.  She grabs something you don’t quite see and steps into the bathroom attached to her room.

Your heart is pounding into your chest and between your legs and you feel like all the moisture in your mouth has evaporated as you wait for this beautiful woman who clearly wants to fuck you.

When Sam appears again she is wearing a pair of loose sweats although the same shirt. Her eyes are dark as they rake over you. She pulls you from your seat on the edge to back you up against her door. She leans in and attacks your neck with hungry little kisses and bites as her hands roam your body.

You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as you lean into her touch and spread your legs as heat pools low.

Sam growls and slides her hand between your thighs cupping you over your jeans. She grinds the heel of her hand against you, feeling you move against her. She pulls back from your neck and lifts the edge of your shirt, “Off.”

You’ve never moved quicker, quickly pulling your shirt over your head grateful that you took your jacket off when you arrived at Sam’s place.

Sam eyes you appreciatively, taking in your newly bared skin and the black bra you are wearing. Your chest is heaving and you wonder if she can feel just how wet you are. She grinds the seam of your pants against you just right and you shudder against her. “Fuck, Sam.”

Sam leans in and captures your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing down your next moan. Her deft hands move from touching you to making quick work of the button and zipper on your pants before she pushes the pants down to your knees keeping you trapped. Dark brown eyes meet your own as she slips a finger between your folds, groaning at the wetness she finds there.

You aren’t shy about showing her what you want, grinding down on her fingers. “Inside please, fuck,” you whine, your voice dripping with want.

Swiping her fingers through your wetness she slowly pushes two inside of you, watching you take them.  She curls her fingers finding that spot inside of you that makes you shudder and push against her. Sam is panting as she slowly pumps her fingers while staring intently at you, watching your every little reaction. “Look at me, “she rasps, when your head falls back against the door.

You meet her gaze as you feel your arousal pooling between your legs and coating Sam’s hand. You meet her thrusts and can hear the door making noise as you move but you don’t care. You want this.

Sam’s pupils are dilated seeing the raw unfiltered desire on your face. She quickens her pace, her fingers moving faster, the sounds of wet fucking filling the room along with breathless pants and moans. Her breath hitches as she feels you tighten around her fingers. “Say it, “she growls, her voice low and demanding.

“Fuck me, let me cum,” you moan softly, almost unable to get the words out.

Sam’s face flushes and your words spur her onward. She adds a third finger and you feel the stretch of it, thighs trembling. She moves faster, curling her fingers while her other hand comes up to grope one of your bra clad breasts.

You are lost to the pleasure of it as you whimper, “God yes Sam, use me.” You are embarrassed with how quickly this woman is making you unravel but you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

Sam’s control seems to snap; she withdraws her hand and spins you around to face the door. She makes sure your hands are pressed flat against the surfaces as she pulls your jeans the rest of the way off, along with your underwear and your bra. They are tossed to the side.

“Keep your hands there,” she growls as you hear movement behind you. You don’t turn to look but every part of you is so focused on her.

You feel her step up behind you and feel more than just her naked body pressed along your back; you feel her sliding a length between your legs from behind and the leather straps on her hips brushing the back of your things.

Sam moves back and forth for a minute before she lines herself up and slides inside slowly. She works herself in until you’ve taken her all. She leans over her breath hot against your ear. “Don’t move,” she whispers, voice shaky with barely held restraint.

“Fuck, did you go and put on a strap just for me,” you moan softly, feeling so full.

Sam nods, gritting her teeth, fighting to keep still. She wants nothing more than to move and fuck into you hard and fast but she wants this to be good for you. She leans down and kisses your neck, before biting into the same skin marking you.

“Shut up and stay still,” she growls, her restraint just about gone. You don’t move; instead do exactly what she asks of you as you relax against her.

Sam feeling you relaxing pulls back and snaps her hips forward drawing a cry from your lips. She sets up a punishing pace, having already worked you up with her fingers. Her hips meet yours with a loud slap each time she fucks into you, the door rattling under you as you moan.

You feel your resolve to not speak crumbling and finally give in. “Fuck yes, please fuck me. God fill me up.”

Sam groans at your pleas, her thrusts growing more erratic. She buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent. “God your look so good taking me. I’m filling your little cunt so good,” she pants out. Sam wraps her arms around you, one hand splayed across your stomach, the other moving up to cover your mouth. “Bite down if it becomes too much baby,” she rasps out, her hips jerking forward in short brutal thrusts.

Sam continues to fuck you with reckless abandon, the hand on your stomach moving down to rub your clit. The strap-on was making lewd sounds as it fucked in and out of your pussy but it just seemed to drive the other woman onward. Sam couldn’t seem to get enough; she bites down on your shoulder as she nears her own release, marking you possessively.

With all of the simultaneous stimulation you shatter around her, cumming hard and squirting. Sam lets out a feral growl and continues thrusting, not giving you space to breath. “That’s it baby, cum on my cock,” she says, her voice strained with her impending release.

“Fuck please Sam, I wanna feel you cum. Wanna hear you,” you moan brokenly as she works your body over.

Sam’s movements become erratic, her thrusts losing their rhythm. With a final deep thrust she buries herself to the hilt and cums with a sharp cry.

You can’t help but fall apart again with how sensitive you are. The two of them stay entwined like that as you both come down from your respective orgasms.

Sam waits a moment to make sure you are steady before she pulls out of you and god you feel so empty without her. You turn around and look at her like that, hair thoroughly mussed and her strap coated with your juices.

Sam can’t help but smirk, “God you are so sexy.” You blush as she slowly pulls you to her and leads you to the bathroom. Its surprisingly large with two sinks, a huge mirror and plenty of countertop space.

Sam unbuckles the strap and sets it on the counter next to the sink for cleaning. She turns to you and lifts you up to sit on the counter. Grabbing a washcloth, she gets it wet with warm water and gently cleans you off with warm water. “You were so good baby, “she whispers softly, watching as you still tremble.

Sam grins tossing the washcloth aside before stepping in between your thighs. “You’re so sensitive right now that just my touch makes you quiver doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whisper shakily.

Sam leans in to kiss you, her fingers once again exploring your swollen folds. “Good,” she murmurs against your lips. “Because we are just getting started sweetheart,” she says before she slips two fingers back inside of you. “Want to try something?”

“What did you have in mind,” you say with a gasp as she fills you again.

Sam’s eyes glittered in the light of the bathroom as she she withdraws her fingers slowly, teasingly. “Have you ever tried temperature play? It can heighten everything.”

You shake your head, “I’ve never tried it.”

Sam steps away from you and returns holding a small glass toy along with a bottle of something else. She holds the toy up for you to see. The toy is sleek, clear and curved just a little. “This is a glass dildo. It is smooth, firm and conducts different temperatures beautifully.”

You eye the toy and the woman in front of you. With your heart thundering in your chest you nod in agreement. “Okay.”

Sam turns on the faucet to your right letting the cold water run for a minute, then runs the glass toy under it making sure it is nice and chilled. She dries it off before turning her attention back to you. “Open your legs for me baby,” she instructed, her voice firm and commanding.

You obey, your hands gripping the counter top as you are spread before her. Your heart is racing and it feels like it has traveled between your legs as you watch Sam step forward.

Sam positions herself between your thighs, the cool glass of the toy pressed gently against your heated opening. She teases it across your slit and lets the contrast in temperature send shivers through your body. “Feel that? The way the cold glass makes your hot, wet cunt quiver with need?”

You nod, biting your lip as you give into what your body is feeling.

With a gentle push Sam slowly slides the chilled glass into your pussy watching in delight as your eyes slip closed and a soft gasp escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you look so good around it. Taking it so well,” she murmurs, her fingers reaching up to rub your clit.

“Feels so good Sam,” you hoarsely whisper, your hips rolling.

Sam smiled wickedly at your praise, slowly fucking the glass toy in and out angling it to hit that spot inside of you. “Mmm, I’m glad you like it baby. Your pussy looks so good like this, taking this just for me.”

You are already shuddering, your breath coming in quick pants as you rock into her. Your hands are gripping the countertop with a white knuckled grip.

Sam pulls the glass toy out slowly, reveling in how your pussy clung to it, not wanting to let it go. She sets it to the side and grabs the bottle she brought with her. “You ready for the next part, sweetheart?”

A whimper falls from your lips as you tremble on the counter top, still spread wide for Sam.

Sam chuckles softly amused and aroused by your desperate little whimpers. She squeezed a generous amount of what you realize is warming lube on her fingers and your eyes go wide. “Impatient, are we?” She teased as she warms the slick fluid between her hands before moving to touch you. Sam rubs the lube over your clit and folds, the warm tingling sensation replacing the cool. She watches with fascination as your body reacts, skin flushing and hips rocking forward involuntarily. “Oh that feels hot, doesn’t it baby?”

You shudder against her fingers, “Fuck, god Sam, it feels so good.” You pant and try and get some control back but you are beyond that now.

Sam grins triumphantly ash she continues to rub the lube in, the sensation clearly driving you wild. ‘You like when I make you feel like this don’t you? All hot and desperate for more?”

You swallow hard. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone,” you gasp out.

Sam’s grin widened, she loved knowing what she was doing to you and knowing that she was giving you something no one else had. She gently parts your folds, just to see how wet you are for her.

“And to think all it took was giving my jacket to a stranger,” you gasp out.

Sam huffs out a small laugh as she washes her hands, she doesn’t want any of the warming lube actually in you. “Who knew such a simple act could lead to this?” She says as she steps back between your legs, sliding two fingers back inside of you and moving. “Lucky for you, I’m not just any stranger.”

“No you are just the hot stranger currently fucking my brains out,” I say with a gasp as I pull you closer, needing to touch you.

Sam chuckles at your breathless incoherent praise, her fingers fucking into you. She can feel your wet warmth around you and how you are already clenching against her. “You keep talking like that and I might stop,” she warns.

“Babe, you invited me back to your place and are currently fucking me in your bathroom while your roomie bangs her boy toy. I think we are long past stopping,” you say breathlessly, just barely able to get it out as she fucks me.

Sam’s thumb joins her fingers, rubbing your clit as she thrusts her fingers. She can’ feel your walls clenching around her fingers, the tight heat almost overwhelming. “You like that hug? You like when I fingerfuck you until you can’t even think straight?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yes, you feel so good inside me,” you gasp out, voice trembling.

Sam’s voice lowered to a sultry growl. “Good, because I’m just getting started, baby. I’m gonna make you cum so hard again you’ll forget your name.” Her fingers moved faster, the wet sounds filling the bathroom.

“Please, fuck, god, oh god, please.”

Sam smirked as she felt your hips bucking against her had desperate for release. She curled her fingers just right, and made your vision swim. “That’s it, let go for me. Cum all over my fingers like the naughty girl that you are.”

You shudder in her hold, your head dropping forward as you cum, your thighs clamping down on her hand. One hand grips the counter top; the other holds her tighter to you.  “Fuck.”

As your orgasm crashes over you Sam continues to move her fingers drawing out the pleasure until you are a quivering mess. Only then did she slow her movements, gently removing her fingers from you. “Look at you, so pretty and spent just for me.”

Jesus, I pant heavily, trying to draw in air. I feel like an absolute boneless mess.

Sam leans in close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, “And now I think it is time for the main even don’t you?” She pulls back and watches your reaction, slapping your thigh lightly before stepping out of the bathroom and your gaze follows her as she leaves.

She comes back with something wrapped in a towel, and sets it softly on the counter top next to you. You look at it curiously but she grabs your chin, “Focus on me baby, I need you to listen and be honest with me. How do you feel about knife play?”

The question throws you a little but honestly you’ve always thought that swords and knives are cool and have even wondered what using one during sex might me like. “When you say knife play, what exactly do you mean,” you ask hesitantly.

Sam smiles and unwraps the cloth to reveal a knife larger than you had expected. She hands it over to you, letting you hold it in your hands. You can see it has a clear cutting edge and a flat spine. Holding it in your hand sends a little thrill through you.

“It’s a Buck 120, I know it looks a little intimidating but I just want to hold the spine of the knife against your throat as I fuck you baby. Would that be okay?” Sam looks up at you with those dark eyes and you can’t help but not yes as you pass the knife back to her.

Sam sets the knife back on the counter and pulls you so you are standing before she slowly turns you to face the mirror. “I want you to watch this, babe.”

You look in the mirror and see what a ruined mess Sam has made of you.

Sam grins wickedly at your reflection, loving the dazed and thoroughly fucked expression on her face. Her eyes travel slowly down your body, lingering on the marks she had left, the bites and hickeys dotting her neck, thighs slick and coated in arousal.

You shudder as she grabs the knife and steps behind you and you tilt your head back as the cool metal grazes your throat.

Sam watches in the mirror, the way you arch your back and pull just slightly away from the knife. She nuzzles her face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

Your eyes slip closed as Sam nips at your skin, leaving yet another bite mark against your skin. How you had come to let this woman you’d only met a few hours ago use you like this is beyond you. “I don’t know how we came to be here but god, I fucking love it,” you rasp out, your eyes meeting Sam’s in the reflection.

Sam chuckles, her voice muffled against your flesh. “Let’s just say, you have an aura that screams “touch me, ruin me.” Sam nips and sucks along your neck and shoulders, marking you further.

“Do I,” you ask softly, shivering as you feel the cold metal shift.

Sam’s right hand moves down your front, palming at one of your breasts possessively. “Mmmhmm. It’s intoxicating to have such a sweet innocent thing like you.” She squeezed your breast in her hand, her thumb flicking over the hardened peak as she holds the knife firmly.

“You knew from the moment I handed you my jacket didn’t you,” I asked softly, my gaze trained on you in the mirror as you touched me.

Sam’s grin was predatory as she looked at you. “Oh, absolutely. The way you so selflessly helped me out, only for me to invite you back to my place. It was like you were silently daring me to take advantage of you.”

“Maybe I was,” I moan out softly.

Sam’s eyes flashed with dark amusement at your admission.  She leans in a little closer, her lips brushing your ear as she speaks in a low growl. “Naughty, naughty girl. Playing the sweet innocent thing while secretly begging to be ravished.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not playing anything.”

Sam’s hand slides down to grip your hip, pulling you flush against her muscular body, while still holding the knife steady. She rolls her hips grinding against your ass as she growls softly. “Then stop teasing, and give yourself to me completely. I want to ruin you for anyone else.”

“You have Sam, I’ve given you more than I have to anyone else,” you gasp breathlessly hoping she understands.

Sam’s breath hitches in her throat when she hears your words. She grinds her teeth together to keep from moaning, her grip on the knife wavering as her body tenses behind you. She had known you would be perfect but this was more than she could have ever hoped for.

“I don’t know if this is what you are missing out on, but I hope you are enjoying this,” you say softly as you meet her eyes in the mirror.

Sam’s face flushes with heat, her pupils dilating as she stares back at you in the mirror. She leans forward, resting her forehead against your shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. “You have no idea. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

I whimper and lean into the cold steel at my throat, “Fuck you can’t just say things like that.”

Sam pulls back slightly, a wicked smirk spreading across her face as she catches the hint of desperation in your voice. She knows she has you utterly hooked. “Why not? It’s the truth.” Her hand slides down to your core, teasing across your flesh.

I shiver and spread my legs slightly, seeing the desperation in my eyes reflected in the mirror. “Because I’ll never stop wanting you, “I whisper like a confession.

Sam’s grin turns smug, her touch growing bolder as her fingers part your folds to slowly sink into you once more. “Then you are mine aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I stutter out as I watch you fuck me in the mirror, the knife still pressed against my throat as I grip the countertop tightly.

Sam’s pace quickened her fingers pumping in and out of you as she watches there reflections in the mirror. Her other hand holds the knife and uses it to tilt your chin up to meet her eyes in the mirror. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I rasp out, the knife pressing into my skin, the thrill of it dizzying.

Sam’s expression tightens with desire as she hears your words. Her hips rock forward and you can feel her wetness on your backside as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Good girl,” she growls out lowly.

“Fuck baby, god, you make me feel so good,” you whimper brokenly as she fucks you. Your eyes are still trained on her in the mirror and she looks like a dark goddess fucking you. The snarl on her face and the knife at your throat thrilling you.

Sam’s grin widened at your plea, her eyes gleamed with lust. She thrust her fingers deeper, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside of you. “That’s the point sweetheart. To make you feel like you’ve never felt before.”

Your hips are rolling into her touch, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. “Fuck Sam, I’m gonna cum again,” I moan out loudly.

Sam’s breathing grows heavier, her own excitement building as she feels your walls start to flutter. She tightened her hold on the knife and pressed it harder to your throat and growls in your ear, “Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers like the good little slut that you are.”

The words, the knife and her fingers all work together to send you over the edge. You shudder, your thighs trembling as they clench down on her hand. You lose your grip on the counter top and the knife clatters down as Sam holds you up.

Sam’s arm snakes around your waist pulling you back against her chest firmly as he fucks you slowly through it. She nuzzles into your neck as her fingers gently move, drawing out every drop of pleasure. “Mmm..”

You shiver in her hold and open your eyes to take one more look at the two of you in the mirror. You look absolutely fucked, bruises and bite marks litter your neck and you are flushed. Sam’s strong arm is wrapped around your waist as she gazes lovingly at you, your hand still lightly gripping the sink as she holds you.

“You’ve ruined me Sam. I can’t take anymore,” you mutter softly. Your body feels boneless and you don’t even know how you are still standing.

Sam chuckles and nuzzles into your neck once more. “Oh baby, we are just getting started.” She slowly sliders her fingers from between your legs, tracing up your stomach to spread your release across your skin. “Look at you, such a mess.”

“Sam, please, no more.” You mumble. “Still too sensitive.”

Sam hums soothingly her touch gentling as she traces across your quivering stomach. She nips playfully at the tender skin of your neck her voice laced with mischief. “Shh, baby…”

You drop your head and cling to her as your legs finally feel stable enough to hold you. “I can’t take anymore.”

Sam’s arm tightens around your waist, holding you securely in place as she presses a soft kiss to the side for your neck. Her free hand comes up to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side. “Can’t take anymore what, baby? The pleasure?”

Yes I gasp raggedly, turning in Sam’s hold to face her.

Sam’s breath hitches as she looks at you, feeling you trembling still. She could feel the spasms of her own release and it just made the whole thing more delicious. She grins wickedly, leaning in so her breath ghosts across your skin. “Good.”

“Can we take a break please,” I ask quietly, feeling badly about needing a break from it all.

Sam’s expression softens and she lets her grip around you loosen a little bit, allowing you to properly catch your breath. She peppers your cheek and jawline with soft kisses. “Alright, baby. We can take a break.” Her voice was low and soothing, a stark contrast to her earlier intensity.

You capture her lips in a soft kiss before she breaks it and pulls you from the bathroom and back into her bedroom. This time you take a moment to look around the space. It is dimly lit and furnished with dark wood and deep blue gray colors. Her king size bed, covered in charcoal sheets dominates the room.

Sam pulls back the comforter and sheets and gently eases you down onto the plush mattress. She makes sure you are settled before she moves to the other side of the bed and crawls in beside you. “Rest for a bit, sweetheart. You’ve earned it.”

You curl up with Sam in her bed and feel the most at peace with this woman and everything that has happened than you have anything in a very long time.

Sam’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer, as she nuzzles into your hair. Her hands idly trace up and down your side, her touch gentle and soothing. She inhales deeply, drawing in your scent- a mix of your perfume and the smell of sex on the both of you.

“And who would have thought that this would all come from sharing my jacket,” I say with a contented sigh.

Sam huffs out a small laugh, “Mmm… I certainly didn’t think I’d be curled up naked with you in my bed after keeping your jacket.” Her fingers pause in their gentle stroking, squeezing you possessively.

“I’m kinda glad that idiot threw their drink on you,” you whisper, placing a kiss to the hollow of her throat.

Sam grinned and pressed her face against your hair. “ Me too, baby. Me too. Otherwise I might never have met you or gotten my hands on you like this.” She flexed her hand, fingers splaying across your hip, the warmth seeping into your skin.

“Probably not,” I mumble softly already drifting off to sleep in your arms.

Sam’s lips curve into a gentle smile as your breathing began to even out, the fight to remain conscious slowly slipping away. She adjusted your position ever so slightly, ensuring you are comfortably held in her embrace. “Sleep well Sweetheart.” She murmurs softly, her words barely audible in the quiet of the room. She places a soft kiss to your forehead and closes her eyes and drifts off.

[starofthesea7]

König~ it means ‘darling’

(König fingers you in the kitchen.)

Baby hairs stuck to the sweat of the back of your neck as you padded down the stairs to the communal kitchenette on floor 3. A heatwave had swept through the desert valley, expanse of sand still warm from the blazing sun, long since set. You’d woken up with a parched throat, in search of a glass of water.

As you neared the kitchen, flickering phosphorescence of the 80’s refrigerator down the hallway revealed another sleepless soldier must be awake. You peered inside, with half a mind to turn around, depending on who you might discover; you were now painfully aware of your thin cotton tank top and threadbare sleep shorts that must be at least a decade old, and how a soldier may mistakenly perceive your attire as some sort of colourful welcome sign.

Your gaze fell upon König inspecting the contents of the fridge, and you immediately felt your muscles relax, knowing he would blush at a mere glimpse of your clothed chest, let alone bother you for it. It was known that the colossal man was always snacking, as the energy needed to sustain such a large body, as well as its profuse activity, was immense. Now he was basking in the cool air of the refrigerator, bent over to peer in, his arm draped over the door. The fluorescent glow illuminated the contours of his bare chest abdomen, and you found your eyes lingering.

You’d never seen him shirtless before, and fuck, he was attractive. A greek marble statue carved by an expert hand. Lean rippling muscle, a pale, broad expanse of solid back, formed naturally by constant use and necessity. A well oiled machine, complete with a sheen of sweat glazing his heated skin. Your gaze trailed down, to a thick waist, soft indents of relaxed abs, and muscled hips which disappeared below the waistband of his pyjama pants.

You’d had a crush on the Austrian soldier for a while now, but fate had never placed the two of you in a room together, or close enough for you to make true conversation with the introvert. He was friendly enough, but you’d never gotten past simple gentile greeting. His soft presence, however, always brought comfort with it. So large, yet unimposing, as if nothing could harm you with him there.

You breathed in, and took a step forward. Bare feet sticking to cool linoleum. He turned at the movement eyes darting, then relaxing when he saw you smiling at him. You now realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. Somehow, it felt natural, here, under the cover of night. The lightsource behind him left much to your imagination as he turned toward you, however you were bathed in light. He could see your face, flushed with heat, cheeks shining with perspiration.

“König,” Your voice was soft as you greeted him, “Couldn’t sleep either?”

He shook his head, his voice was deep and raspy with fatigue, and it nudged a quickened heart beat in your chest. “‘S too hot.”

“I know. That fridge feels nice.” You brushed passed him, barely grazing his hip with yours, it left a fuzzy tingle in it’s wake. He seemed decidedly too large for the tiny kitchen, like a lion in a cage. Unnatural.

You turned, filling a glass with water, and found yourself wondering if he was watching you, studying the curves of your body the way you just had his. Perhaps he was noticing the way your shorts were a size or two too small, riding up the split of your ass. Perhaps he felt this pull towards you, as you did towards him. Pole to pole. You glanced over your shoulder to see him fully engrossed in comparing the nutrient facts of two different fruit cups. You felt yourself flush, and downed your glass of water, cool water soothing your heated body. Slightly.

You filled it again, before turning to him, taking a another sip from your cup. “Water?”

He turned slightly, looking down at you, “Sure, thank you.”

Before you could think twice, you were handing him your own glass. His eyes flickered from the glass, down to you, and back to the glass. Before you could reiterate, correct yourself, grab him a new, clean one from the cupboard, he took it, a large pale hand swallowing it whole. It was littered with a collection of veins and small scars. You couldn’t help but imagine how it might look compared to your own. Holding yours. Perhaps on your thigh. Your windpipe…

As he raised it to his lips, his eyes held yours vehemently, the sight of his lips where yours had been moments ago made your head cloud slightly. You gazed up at him, ardent through your lashes, studying what you could see of his face.

Although bare before you, in face and body, his true form still escaped you. An enigma. You could make out broad, muscled shoulders, a pale, broad column of neck with a white, healed scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your teeth. A glint of canines and a jaw, sharp, with a whisper of stubble. His nose was large and slightly crooked, in endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child. Flicker of an eye, green, which you knew all too well, as they were usually your only point of reference for his expression. His hair was light, tousled from bed, and looked in need of a trim, shorter pieces curling across his forehead and around his neck, damp with sweat. He was younger than you’d imagined. And, admittedly, more attractive.

He leaned into you, and your pulse quickened, before realizing he was only placing the glass on the counter beside you. “Danke.” You nodded up at him, words escaping you in the moment, his close proximity having an embarrassing effect on you. He was hard to read; you supposed that was part of his job. His true motives indecipherable, though laced throughout his subtle movements. Did he want to reach out? Touch you?

You were pulled from your thoughts, “Would you, uh, would you like a fruit cup?” His voice was hesitant, you could tell he felt as though he should offer you something in exchange for the drink. It was cute.

You smiled at him, and pulled yourself up onto the counter, feeling it cold against your skin. A reminder you weren’t wearing anything under your threadbare shorts. “Sure. Mango please.”

As he moved, chilled air swept across your body, goosebumps rose and you saw his eyes flick to your chest, the movement undetectable had you not been studying him. Your heartbeat quickened—your nipples must have been poking through your thin tank. He tore his eyes away quickly.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the fridge, as it illuminated his face you noticed a large scar running from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as well as a split lip. How strange, only hours ago he had been on the field. Ferocious. Violent. Yet here he was, presenting you with a fruit cup. He selected the one labeled mango, and you realized it was the one he had set aside to have himself, and the last mango. You watched as he attempted to open it for you, collossal fingers struggling to grasp the small tab.

You held back a grin. “Here, I can do it.” You opened it easily. Not wanting to dirty a spoon, you began to eat it with your fingers. You felt his eyes on you as you slipped the fruit into your mouth.

Now he was struggling to open his own, bent over to focus. You chuckled, “Let me help. ‘S difficult with your big hands, huh.”

Hair fell across his forehead as he raised his head to look at you, cheeks flushing at your remark, and it dawned on you that perhaps he was insecure about his size. The thought was almost funny to you —If only you could tell him it was one of his best qualities. Hell, it made you want him. Badly.

“Yeah, danke, liebling.” You opened it with no trouble, before handing it back to him. He stood in front of you, a foot of space between your thighs and his, thick with tension. You wanted him closer, the space feeling like both a mile and a hair’s width. Both of you were illuminated softly in the darkness, quietly eating packaged tropical fruit.

Your voice surprised you, breaking the comfortable silence, “What does that mean?”

“Hm?” The deep sound made your throat dry.

“Liebling.” You cringed at your poor imitation.

“Oh, uh..” he was blushing, avoiding eye contact. Your pulse quickened slightly with anticipation. What had he called you? His voice quieted with embarrassment, “It means ‘darling’.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Darling. König had called you darling. You leaned back against the cabinet, shoulder blades pressing into plywood, legs parting slightly. You saw his eyes waver from his snack to your thighs. Splayed out before him. Tilting your head up at him, your lips stretched into a smile and you blurted, “You’re cute.”

He flushed at your words, eyebrows raised slightly. “Really? No one calls me that.” His fingers toyed with the plastic in his hands.

You finished your fruit, and licked your fingers clean, eyes on his. “I think you’re very cute.” His vehement eye contact as you sucked your finger made you dizzy. It felt intimate, even a little dirty- cliche. A low budget porno.

Something urged you to keep going. Push further. Whether it was the heat, the late hour or clenching of your cunt you couldn’t be sure, but you wanted more. You wanted to touch him. “Can I try?” You nodded towards the last piece of fruit in his fingers. Your pulse hammered. He looked at his hand, and back at you, as you dared him to give it to you, feed it to you. Your palms were glued to the counter, making no move to do it yourself.

He swallowed hoarsely. You suddenly realized he was shy. Although he was an intimidating presence -colossal in comparison- you made him nervous. Your muscles tensed in anticipation, your jaw opened for him. “Yeah,” His voice was soft and raspy. He leaned forward, lips parted slightly, mirroring yours. Your abdomen tightened as he grabbed the counter in between your legs, as if to stabilize himself, still not courageous enough to grab you. You gazed up at him, wanton through damp lashes as his fingers entered your mouth, so gently. Afraid to be too rough, afraid to hurt you. Used to being a bull in a china shop-but you could take him. God you could take him.

His lids were heavy, pupils blown as he stared at your lips. You felt his breath hitch as your lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking gently. Sweet, rough, calloused. Hot and large. You felt high with fervour, something in you wanted to take him deeper, show him you could do it. But you held back, pulling away with a quiet pop. Lips wet with juice and spit.

He raised his fingers, brushing a lock of hair from your cheek gentle with veneration, before they found the back of your head, skimming, then intertwining, tugging. Need overtook his timid respect. Your scalp prickled as he gripped the back of your head pulling you towards him. Into him. Your lips parted as you looked up at his face, back arching as he tugged you into him, searing cunt pressing molten against the cold plastic countertop. He was looking down at you with furrowed brows, need etched into every feature. Hot breath fanned your cheeks.

“Bitte.” Please. “Don’t tease me.” A fervent murmur that made your stomach flop. He pulled you into him, dwarfing you, lips searing against yours, his mouth opening immediately, inviting you in, pleading for more. More of you. He tasted of peaches and blood as his lip re-split with his mindless movements. Sweet ambrosia collocating with metallic copper. Oxymoron of gentle and harsh. Sweet and bitter.

He was scorching in your arms, musk and sweat. Deep and heady. Months of built up need unwinding, finally. Hot lust satiated, slightly. His grip was white knuckled on the counter between your plush thighs. It’s proximity taunting you, reminding you how badly you needed him there. How your fingers hadn’t been enough for the past months, how you were too small. But he could do it. God he could. He could fill you up- stretch you out. You couldn’t help gripping his wrist, inching your way towards him, squirming, letting out a warbled whimper as your wet cunt dragged against the counter. He groaned into your open mouth, fingertips tightening in your hair when he found your puffy cunt bare for him, clenching, wet and waiting for him.

You jolted as rough fingers brushed your clit, letting out a quiet, pathetic whine. “Quiet, leibling.” His calloused thumbs rubbed circles around the sensitive spot, making you squirm. He groaned as his fingers glided slowly down your sopping slit. His head swam- all for him? This was all for him? He could hardly wrap his mind around the thought. He’d touched himself at night, shamefully, thinking about you-about this puffy little cunt just a few doors down. And here you were, spread and ready for him, wanting to take him. His cock flushed beneath his waistband, heavy and hot. Needy.

You cried out softly as he split you open on his finger, and he pulled you into his shoulder, your mouth agape at the feeling of being stuffed with him. His middle finger twice the size of your own, you squirmed as he sank, knuckle deep. He pushed another inside of you, and you spasmed around him, overwhelmed at the euphoric feeling of being stretched so easily. Gummy walls pulled him in deeper. Sweat prickled his forehead as he held back his need to feel you squeezing his pulsing cock, the want to spread you open, fill you up- see how far you could go. See if you really could take all he wanted to give. You let out an airy moan as he hit that spongey spot inside of you with his middle finger, thighs glued together in over stimulation, spine arching-

Suddenly, to your dismay, he pulled out, quickly stepping away from you. You blindly reached out for him as cold air hit you. Reeling with emptiness. Had you done something wrong? Then you heard it, a creak of stairs. Heavy footsteps.

He reached out and you jolted as he brushed your clit, tugging your threadbare shorts back over your gaping cunt. He leaned back against the counter, face composed as ever.

A figure emerged from the hallway. It was the Lieutenant. He was squinting in the darkness to make out your figures. Voice was rough against the silence, save for the buzzing refrigerator, “Ah, grabbing a snack too?” You could do nothing but stare at König, unable to believe he had been knuckle deep inside you just moments before.

König nodded, face relaxed, lids heavy. He raised his hand and your sopping cunt clenched as you saw him place his fingers to his mouth, to taste you. As the Lieutenant watched. Vulgar. Lecherous. Your spit, slick, and peach juice swirling together in his hot mouth.

You flushed down to your fucking thighs at his words: “Yes sir, just having a peach.”