#yes he cut the sleeves off of yet ANOTHER shirt

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash @ Take My Hand Sydney Night 1 - 9 December 2022

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {3} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.

“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.

“No.”

You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”

It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”

You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”

“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”

You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”

“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”

Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”

For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”

“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”

You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”

“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”

“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”

He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”

Lockdown: Week Sixteen

“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.

It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.

“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.

“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”

Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”

You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”

Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.

You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.

Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”

The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.

“It’s Charlotte.”

You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.

“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.

“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”

Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”

Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.

“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”

“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”

You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.

Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.

Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.

You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.

“You should be asleep.”

His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”

You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”

His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.

“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”

Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”

“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.

The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.

He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.

“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”

Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.

“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.

“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”

“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”

You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”

His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”

Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”

His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.

“Did Peter teach you to cook?”

Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”

The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”

You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.

“Worked with me.”

“But you’re weird.”

Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”

You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”

She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.

“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”

Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”

You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”

That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 

You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.

Lockdown: Week Seventeen

You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.

“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.

“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”

You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.

“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.

“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.

“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.

“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.

“Home!”

You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.

Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”

The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.

“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”

“You planned all that?”

He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”

You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”

He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”

You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.

“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.

“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”

The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.

“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.

“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.

You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 

“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 

“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 

“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.

“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”

You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 

A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 

Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 

“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 

Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”

“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.

“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”

Click here for the next part.

[cutiecusp]

Forbidden Fruit.

Ex husband! Simon Riley x reader.

A text shapes your life forever. You just don't know it yet.

TW: mentions of cheating/divorce. Smut. PnV, pining, edging, power play, dom!Simon. Probably the smuttiest I've ever written.

You text your ex on a night out. He picks you up on his motorbike, feelings, and more ensure.

You swipe on your phone, idly killing time. You were out with the girls, celebrating a birthday. You post a few snaps on social media, and flick your phone off, the glassy screen reflecting your make up you spent forever on.

Straightening up your dress, you signal to the barman for another fruity potion. You were about three deep, and the vibes were immense. You felt the weight on your shoulders, but you paid it no mind as your favourite songs thumped over the speakers.

Cocktail in hand, body moving under the fluorescent light you dance with the girls, your cares and worries begin to hide at the bottom of your glass.

Your lipstick stains the straw as you finish your drink, you saunter over to the bar on your heels as you sit back to your seat.

Your phone notifies you of a reply on your latest selfie, you take it out of your bag, frowning as you focus on the screen.

'Look good enough to eat, doll. 💀'

Simon... your ex-husband, who you could never quite cut out of your life with one of his signature comments. You type a reply.

'Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest 🍑'

You put your phone away and dance to a few more songs before heading to the bathroom. Reapplying your lipstick and fixing your hair, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You see the shadow before you hear him. The smell of cigarette smoke and the cologne you brought him for his birthday fill your senses.

'Think it's cute to tease me, sweetheart? What, not getting enough cock as a free woman?' Simon says gruffly in your ear, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, titling your head up to look in the mirror.

"How did you?-" You pause.

"The location of the club was on your photo, love. Didn't I teach you to be more careful?" He cuts you off with a rough kiss to the temple.

"Think you've had enough fun, anyway... text the girls, let them know I'm taking you home."

You can't find it in you to protest as he runs his hands down your sides. Simon was like a drug, addictive and powerful, and it was hard to get out of your system.

You take out your phone, and does what he says, before clasping your hand in his.

"One more night." You say, more to yourself than anything as he leads you out of the club.

His only response is a grunt as he takes off his long sleeve shirt and wraps it around your waist.

"No one sees you but me. Get on." He urges you onto his motorbike, clipping your old helmet on, securing the strap under you chin before pulling it so his face was close to yours.

"No more games, my mistake was signing those papers while I was deployed." He says softly.

"You want one more night with me?" He asks plainly, his onyx eyes dark with desire. You nod dumbly, mesmerised by his gaze on yours.

"Words, sweetheart. Tell. Me." He asks again.

"Y-yes, Simon. I want this." You stutter out. Your once sweet Simon had been completely taken over by *Ghost* his work alter ego who you'd heard so much about, but he never subjected you to until now.

He started the engine and lurched forward, forcing you to wrap your arms around his leather cut. Stifling a laugh, he sped off into the night.

Arriving at his flat, you set down on steady feet as you cross the road to his front door. You lean in to his shoulder, and allow him to escort you through the front door.

Your breathing heavy in your chest as you stop him from removing his helmet. You wanted the full fantasy.

"That's alright with me, love. You can look at your make up running down your pretty face in my visor as I ruin you." Simon smirks.

You blush as the effects of both his words and the fruity drinks take over your senses.

"Knees, love. Show me how much you want this." He commands, pushing your head down as you kneel in front of him.

"So pretty for me." He coos, as he steps between your parted knees.

"My boots need shining, you know what to do." His gruff voice sounds deeper through the helmet.

You look up at him, your reflection reflected in the carbon plastic, you poke your tongue out in a matter of mock defiance, before lowering yourself on his boot. Your sensitive core pressed against his laces as your rock your hips against the material, soaking your thin bikini bottoms. You let out a little whimper as the pressure feels so damn good against your needy folds.

"Good girl." Simon commends you, as he brushes your hair back from your face with his skeleton gloved hand.

You nod and rock your hips a little faster, chasing a high you know only he can give you.

"You feeling good, baby?" He asks, his hands in your hair.

With an affirming nod, you mumble out a thank you.

"Sorry, couldn't hear you. I know you could be louder than that."

"Yes, Si. Thank you... Feels good." You admit. You hate and love how he makes you feel. Your need bubbling up in your throat as you are ready to declare anything he wants, if he just lets you-

"Stop, love." He pulls your hair so you are looking up at his blank face, hidden by the helmet.

"When you come, I want it to be on my cock. Be a good girl and get it out for me." He strokes your jaw.

"Let's put this mouth to good use, eh?"

You fumble with his belt, eventually pulling it away and unzipping his jeans. You see his size, against the fabric and your mouth waters.

"Please. Si. Let me.." You beg, your eyes unable to look away as you take out his cock from his jeans.

Your mouth enclosed over the tip of his length, suckling and rolling your tongue over the sensitive flesh. You feel smug as you hear him hiss, pulling on your hair as he bucks his hips against your mouth.

"Fuck, love. I forgot how good you feel around my cock" He says, looking down at your face, your make up beginning to run down your cheeks as they hollowed in and out, as if you were putting on a show for him.

You let out an amused huff as you take him deeper, rocking your hips against his boot slowly as your mouth takes him to heaven and back.

Eventually, he pushes you down to the floor, off his boot. You moan at the lack of pressure against your clit

"Get on the bed." He orders, his body betraying his cool exterior.

"On your bloody knees, ass up for me."

You scramble on the bed, your legs jellified as you assume the position he requested.

"Gonna make you feel good, baby. You want that?" You nod, anticipation running through your body in waves.

You feel a sharp sting on your ass as he brings down his gloved hand on your flesh, wet with his own arousal.

"Words. Sweetheart." He repeats, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes, Simon. Make me feel good." You give him your permission, as he pushes your dress over your hips, tugging your bottoms down, exposing your wet folds to the air.

"Such a pretty pussy, love. She's been neglected, hasnt she?" He asks, running a finger through your sensitive flesh.

You mumble a yes, when another slap hits your ass.

"Louder, love. Hasnt she?"

"Yes. Si!" You agree, tears in your eyes at the sting of his hand on your sore skin.

"And I'm the only one that can make her feel better, isn't that right love?" He presses, his finger breaching your walls.

You rock your hips against his hand, almost chanting his name at this point, anything to relieve the pressure building in your lower stomach.

"Y-yes, only you." You slur, completely drink on emotions.

"No one like you, Si." You admit, as he pulls away from you.

"You want this?" Simon asks one last time.

You wanted to tear your own hair out. You were desperate for him to fill you up, make the ache go away for a little while, why was he hesitating?

"Fuck yes. Please, Si, please." You beg, looking into his helmet, your face wet with tears, your make up tracing lines down your face, your lipstick on your chin. To you, you've never looked messier, but to him, you've never looked more beautiful.

He lines up his hips with yours, pressing his length home, sheathing himself in your warmth. You both let out a hiss, as pleasure caresses your spine, and fleets over your body in waves.

You feel his gloved hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back onto his cock.

"You like rough, sweetheart?" He asks through clenched teeth as his hips snap into yours, knocking the breath out of you with every thrust.

You barely manage to get out a reply as he picks up the pace, pushing your head into the pillow as he pounds into you from behind.

Your moans drown out his as he hits your spot over and over again.

"Keep making those noises for me baby." He urges as you feel the wave of an orgasm approaching.

He stifles a groan as you clench around him, your walls suffocating his cock as he feels you getting close.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" He taunts, as his pace is hard against your body.

Your eyes close tight as it hits you, a white flash behind your eyes as you reach your climax, your pussy tight around him as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you, your toes curling in pleasure.

"Too much.." You gasp, trying to come down from the high.

"You have one more for me. Don't you?" He reaches over your hip and teases his hand over your puffy clit.

"Wanna come with you, baby." He insists, as you feel another orgasm rip through you, and you feel Simon stiffen, as you feel his spend inside you.

He rips off the helmet and pulls you down onto the bed, onto the bed. He removes his gloves with his teeth, and collects a little of your arousal on his fingers and licks them clean.

"You were right. It does taste sweeter."

A/N thank you all so much! This was a labour of love, totally wrote it at the bus stop, hoping no one would read over my shoulder. It's not been proof read, but I kinda love how bossy he is here.

@misshugs @frudoo @thevoiceinyourheadx @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @yesornowaitidontknow @shadowdark00

[joocomics]

lights off: part two (18+)

read part one here

pairing: oh seungmin x fem!reader

genre: smut, slice of life wc: 4.8k

summary: a silly accident in the cafeteria brings you and seungmin together causing the memory of your one night stand to return after both of you spent weeks trying to forget about it

contains: sub!reader, college fuckboy!o.de, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (f!rec)

a/n: big thank you to my 🚀 anon for inspiring me to write this! more specifically with this ask about the hoodie <3

song rec: the boy is mine - ariana grande

“Are you good?”

You wince from the sudden voice startling you out of nowhere.

It’s Oh Seungmin. The realisation he just caught you scrubbing your white shirt like crazy as if it will make the stain disappear, in the middle of the cafeteria, brings you even bigger chills - chills of embarrassment; of frustration, anger even. From all people that could’ve walked by your table at this moment, why him?

You look down at your lap, composing yourself the best you can in order to answer calmly.

“I spilled coffee all over my shirt and now I will walk around like a stained loser the whole day. Yes, I’m fine.”

However, you sound far from fine, and Seungmin can’t help but smile amused at your frustrated scrunched lips.

He quickly changes his expression back to normal before you notice the grin, and drops his backpack on the chair across from you.

You’re too busy preparing all the dirty tissues for the trash so you miss the moment when he takes off his jacket, and his hoodie next. He holds it in his hands until you decide to look up at him.

“Here, put this on.”

His hands rub against his chest to prevent his white tee from creases, and you stare at him for a moment while he’s not paying attention.

After you stand up to put on the clothing a deja vu which you’re definitely not prepared for washes over you. You look at the front of the hoodie realising by the letters that it’s the same one he gave you the day you worked on your group project during Christmas break.

When you were at his place for the very first time, and when the power went off… and one thing led to another.

The memories make your head spin.

“I have to stop stealing your hoodie like this.” You attempt a joke, but you’re unsure if it is a successful one.

“Actually,” Seungmin’s voice comes out contemplative as he checks you out, but suddenly turns cheeky, “I think you wear it better.”

You shift your gaze at him just when somebody tries to walk past both of you. Seungmin takes a step closer in order to make space so the guy can continue his way which cuts the distance between you and him drastically. The cafeteria becomes crowded around this hour of the day.

Your eyes meet and you feel your stomach swirl from too many emotions clashing together. The familiar warmth and scent of the hoodie, the memories it holds from your time together during the heavy storm, the sudden closeness of your bodies. The new way he looks at you.

You step back, clearing your throat.

“Me and the other fifty girls you say this to.”

Seungmin laughs dryly, looking away in the distance.

“Anyways, I will return it soon.” Your fingers unintentionally tug at the sleeves. It’s like you create new habits every time you wear it. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grabs his jacket from the chair, hanging it over his arm. “You can keep it, looks good on you.”

You don’t know what more to say; if you should even say anything at all.

You haven’t seen each other after you had sex; not properly like a date, just in class. Not that you’re expecting one. Everyone knows Seungmin doesn’t date. You’re not a fool to think you’re going to be his first exception. But you haven’t even texted each other about anything that doesn’t revolve around your shared classes, and you start to find it odd.

A part of you expected him to ask you to come over at his place again, but he hasn’t done that yet. You keep overthinking it, which you shouldn’t, but you do regardless - mostly because you want to know the reason why. Didn’t he enjoy it? Was it bad, boring? It didn’t seem like it was, at least to you. You’re aware there are many girls who are more exciting, better, but still… why is he treating you differently than the rest? Isn’t that what fuckboys do? Messing around with as many girls as they can?

Maybe it’s better this way. You don’t need the trouble and the gossip that come inevitably with his reputation anyway.

“I have to go to class, but I hope to see you again soon.” Seungmin speaks and his brown eyes search for yours just like they did last time he was with you. “Not for the hoodie.”

Your lips curve in a shy smile and he turns around, heading towards the door. Just before he exits, a girl you’ve never seen before appears from somewhere, holding a drink in hand. She taps him on the shoulder, and he greets her with one of his popular charming smiles. They exchange a few words before walking out of the cafeteria together. You can’t read lips, but you have a slight idea of what they might have said to each other.

On Friday the only interaction you have with Seungmin during your shared class is a few stolen glances.

Since the group projects ended everyone is back to sitting on their usual seats, including you and him - you’re still on the second row meanwhile he returned to sit way back like he’s always preferred.

When the professor ends the lecture and the class is dismissed, you leave right away without looking in his direction, because you have a lunch date with your friend that you don’t want to be late for, but also because you don’t expect anything to be different today.

Except something changes.

As you wait for your order to arrive your phone lights up with a notification and you see his name appear on your screen.

13:21 [Oh Seungmin] I almost didn’t recognise you without my hoodie

13:21 [Y/N] I only wear it for emergencies

13:21 [Oh Seungmin] Haha

13:22 [Oh Seungmin] You look pretty in your outfit today

13:22 [Oh Seungmin] But I miss seeing my hoodie on your body already

13:23 [Y/N] Thank you :)

13:23 [Y/N] I will give it back to you soon

13:23 [Y/N] Today I forgot to take it with me, I was in a hurry

13:24 [Oh Seungmin] Will I see you wearing it one last time?

You’re not sure what to reply.

Your brain suddenly freezes and your thumbs hover over the keyboard not knowing which letters to press. The more seconds pass, the more you feel stupid for taking time to respond.

13:26 [Oh Seungmin] Or I can at least get a picture for saving you the embarrassment of walking around with a stained shirt 😉

16:55 [Y/N sends attachment]

17:00 [Oh Seungmin] You turn me on so fuckin’ bad

“It’s been a while. Thought you’ve decided to keep it for yourself.”

“I’m just busy with work and finals, but today I have some free time.” You explain then glance down at the porcelain cup between your palms. “One girl already accused me of stealing her boyfriend’s clothes so I would prefer to give it back to you as soon as possible.”

Seungmin takes a sip of his drink, not looking away from your ironic smile as you eventually shift your gaze somewhere behind his shoulder.

“Just say you wanted to see me.” His lips curl playfully when you immediately lock eyes with him after hearing his words. “You don’t have to make up stories.”

“I’m not lying. I’m sure you know who I’m talking about.”

He leans back in his chair, tapping with the tip of his fingers on the table.

“Hm, I don’t.” He admits after releasing a sigh, pretending to care that he’s having a hard time figuring out which girl could it be. “You know I don’t date.” He states and you nod.

You can’t help but feel like he uses the good opportunity to say this just as a reminder to you.

You chat for a while when he eventually leans closer looking directly into your eyes. He loves the glow your cheeks earn every time he succeeds to hold eye contact with you for more than one second.

“Do you want to come over?”

“Now?”

“Now.”

He repeats the word firmly, almost like a command, but you know he’s not that type of person. He just seems to be in need of something. More of your presence.

“I can’t wait any longer, Y/N.” Seungmin’s gaze lowers on your lips and he sees you swallow as a reaction to his confession.

He observes your features closely, feeling his skin run hot from the images they remind him of - when you let him kiss you everywhere he wanted that day.

He really tried not to think about what happened, about you, and he still is.

But he’s failing.

Every time he hooks up with another girl he realises that he’s not fulfilled as he used to be after she’s gone. His mind goes straight back to you reminding him how much better it could be.

The crazy part is that last time he invited a girl over his brain didn’t even wait for her to leave, it started distracting him in the middle of sex while he was inside her. With every new image of you that appeared in his head the girl underneath him became more and more unsatisfying; boring. She overreacted with her moans; the way she pulled his hair irritated him. He continued to notice little things like that until he flipped her over, shut his eyes and blocked out all the noise in order to focus on his thoughts about you so he can cum as soon as possible.

That’s when he realised it’s no use for him to keep denying it - he needs to feel you again. His body craves it.

It’s frustrating, because you’re not the type of girl who guys like him deserve. He knows you’re thinking he’s just like the rest, and you’re right.

But the desire is bigger than him.

“What are you waiting for?” You ask; your voice is low, because you’re flustered to show your neediness, but loud enough for Seungmin to hear it and smirk.

Walking into this living room again feels almost like a dream.

Seungmin doesn’t give you any time to look around and see if anything has changed since you were last here, because he immediately pins you against the wall.

He doesn’t want to waste a second more, and his lips smash against yours. They manage to move with gentleness despite his impatience that almost hypnotises you.

Your knees already go weak; it’s just one longer lasting kiss, but his mouth feels so good, experienced and soft. He pulls back as his hands roam around your hips area, then leans in back again.

This time the kiss is different; eager and rough. It quickly forces a muffled moan from your throat which makes Seungmin’s hands instantly react by gripping your ass.

Something switched on in him, and the situation starts to unfold much faster.

He swiftly picks you up without breaking the ongoing kiss and you hang arms over his shoulders while he walks towards the kitchen countertop. It’s the nearest surface he can place you on.

In a matter of seconds the shirt you were wearing flies to the ground with your bra getting your bare skin covered in goosebumps. Shivers go down your spine as Seungmin’s soft lips press against the side of your neck, nibbling on your flesh so hungrily you know you’re going to go home with a purple mark. His hands cup your boobs, massaging both of them as his tongue rubs against you, provoking sighs of bliss from your mouth.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you…” Seungmin speaks out for the first time since you got here. Kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear. “About what happened between us.”

His mouth moves to your collarbone, then even lower, making you lean backwards. Your elbows touch the cold counter.

“Did I make you feel good, sweetheart?” He gives your nipple an open mouthed kiss and your lips part from the nice thrill.

“God—“ You moan as he sucks on it while holding your boob in his hand; he repeats the same thing one more time before circling around the nipple with the tip of his tongue. “Yeah… you did...”

He’s never cared about what girls think of the way he performs in bed. Nobody fucks me like you do. You’re the best I’ve ever had. It feels different with you. Those are things he’s heard many times before, because for some reason they think it’s something he needs to hear, but he doesn’t; he just needs to get laid.

“Has someone ever fucked you like that before?”

You start to sense the wetness between your thighs; the quick way it builds up while he speaks makes you feel a bit embarrassed, but more than that - greedy.

“You already know the answer to that.”

Your fingers reach for his belt and the boldness of it surprises both of you.

Seungmin smiles seductively after shooting a look at your hands that are now busy with undoing it eagerly.

“I want to hear you say it.”

His jeans are now unzipped and you take a peek at his slightly revealed boxers. The temptation to sneak your hand and palm his boner lingers in your mind.

Seungmin’s hands rest on your thighs as he tries to analyse your facial expressions one after another.

“No,” you admit the obvious. By overcoming your nerves you guide one hand to his crotch, inviting your fingers. “Nobody has ever fucked me like you before.”

You both look at each other as you slowly palm his clothed erection. Feeling how hard he is excites you so much to the point you shamelessly bite your lip without even realising it.

“You want it?” He asks and the change in his voice is so clear.

You squeeze him lightly and nod in response at the same time.

“Needy.” Seungmin notes, but what he actually means is that he likes how this new confidence looks on you.

He gets rid of his pants, but leaves his underwear on, wanting to see you deal with it yourself.

You tug the clothing down and his erection enters your vision. Wrapping your hand around him makes Seungmin’s head drop back on the instant before he humms from the feeling of your tightening grip.

This is the first time you do something on your own for his pleasure and your heart starts racing from excitement.

You twist your fist in a nice steady pace and not long after his forehead touches yours as you spread the precum from his flushed tip along the stiff length.

His body melts with each stroke you make, succumbing more and more to your touch.

You listen to his heavy breaths and as a reaction your hand increases the pace. You start stroking him quicker and the fact he takes just one second to moan from the new speed pleases you like nothing before has.

“Fuck…” He breathes out quickly, not opening his eyes. “You’re good.”

“Thank you,” you mewl and Seungmin releases a small airy chuckle before biting his lower lip. “Should I keep going?” Your hand slows down as you wait for an answer, and the thrill of it causes his smirk to fade. “Do you want more?”

Seungmin’s mind turns more foggy which makes it difficult for him to comprehend why these questions make his skin feel so hot; why do they sound so charming when you speak them out and look down at his dick.

Your eyes focus with anticipation on his parted lips that are seconds away from kissing you. He ends up not saying anything, because the fact he cannot stand the distance from your faces already proves enough.

He lets his dominant tongue dart in your mouth until the words escape him on their own.

“I want all of you,” he murmurs as you exhale into his mouth. The continuous gliding of your hand around him makes his stomach clench underneath his clothes, and suddenly he pulls back so you can get off the counter.

Once you remove the rest of your clothes, Seungmin takes you to the bedroom and watches you lay down on his bed. His gaze trails down your naked figure, and so does yours as he strips.

You don’t try to hide it anymore.

His hands travel up your thighs and the sides of your hips as he makes his way down your body. His tongue drags along your stomach before a few kisses under your belly button make you moan softly.

He would’ve enjoyed teasing you through your wet underwear if only he wasn’t so impatient right now. He quickly removes your pair of panties and dives into your pussy; something that crosses his mind too often when he sits on his couch.

The sudden contact makes you gasp, because it’s completely different in comparison to the gentle, slow touch of his lips from last time. You can feel his desire in the new way his mouth moves, pressing further into you; stimulating you fully to the point you already start to squirm.

“Oh, fuck—“ you bury fingers into his hair and hiss while tugging on a few strands the moment his soft lips suck on your clit. “Fuck, Seungmin…” His name slips weakly from your mouth that you can’t keep closed from too much panting.

One of his long fingers enters you smoothly and just as easy gets swallowed by your tight walls on the instant, which makes the sensation even better. You feel him push it back and forth in addition to his tongue that plays with your clit for a moment till he goes back to making out with your slick folds.

You’re not going to last long; the knot in your warm core begins to pulse.

“You just keep getting sweeter, baby.”

You whine as your lower body jerks up from the motions of his tongue; from his compliments that force your arousal to grow bigger. Your moans multiple once you realise it feels even more amazing when you sway your hips in circles, rubbing yourself against his dripping mouth.

“Seungmin… f-fuck, I’m so close—”

“Good, baby,” his soothing voice speaks again as he adjusts, “I want you to cum on my mouth again, okay?”

Seungmin’s arms hug your thighs, keeping them in control, and his flat tongue resumes to devouring your slit which gets you closer to your peak rapidly. You’ve spent many hours reminiscing of the unbelievable orgasm he gave you the day the power went off, but even all of that time of you replaying the moment over and over again couldn’t have prepared you for the wave that shoots right through you at this very second.

His strong grip prevents your legs from closing as Seungmin works his tongue on your sensitive spot, waiting for the thrill to cool down in your trembling body; your whimpers gradually fade in the air too.

“Good girl,” he places a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

You open your unfocused eyes just when he’s about to push back his middle finger, but along with his index one. You didn’t expect it so soon, but your pool of arousal welcomes them; it drips and fills the room with lewd squelching noise as he thrusts deeply a few times so you can hear yourself.

He doesn’t even have the ability to say something about this, he’s in awe as he pulls them out in a teasing speed, observing you clench desperately for more.

His sticky fingers grab a condom, then reach for your face as he settles between your legs, his knees dip in the mattress as he gets comfortable.

You part your lips excitedly, because you wanted to do this the moment he emptied you.

“Yeah, suck them, gorgeous.”

Seeing you get drunk on your own essence makes the lust in Seungmin’s heavy gaze glow brighter which results into you not wanting to look away. You taste his glistening digits with your lips closed around them before he tells you to spit in his palm.

Your saliva coats the protection, and at once, you feel the overwhelming feeling of Seungmin’s cock inside it, making you extra wide and warm. The light sweet pain comes through as he slides it in all the way, but goes away quickly when he begins to glide back and forth, letting out a deep groan from the immediate pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he cusses under his breath as he bottoms out, observing you take him with ease.

The delightful sense of relief starts to flow through your veins as his hips pick up the pace, growing the arousing rush in your core too.

Smacking sound from skin on skin echoes in the silent room, overpowering your quiet soft whimpers, because of the fast way Seungmin forces his body into moving quicker.

“God, you’re still so tight…”

He forgot how tight you actually feel, how drenched you become, and how easily you turn fucked out underneath him; or is he just too turned on and everything just seems much more intense than before?

His skin begins to sweat as his lower region simultaneously warms up from the amazing feeling that your connected bodies form. The heat grows rapidly, and he almost loses control, but pulls out in time.

Some of his hair falls into his vision as his fist cautiously strokes his cock that throbs so close to cumming.

You both pant aroused when he turns both your legs to one side, keeping them bent as he slides back into you.

This new angle turns your soft sounds into clear moaning with the way his tip pokes at your cervix even better.

“Do you realise how fuckin’ good you feel around me?” He catches your lightheaded gaze, but you can’t maintain the eye contact for long, because everything takes too much effort for you right now. “How hot you look when you take it…”

Your fingers grip the sheets as Seungmin continues his steady pace while holding onto your hip. He can feel your walls wrapping him more tightly and that provokes him into going for rushed stronger thrusts.

It’s like you pulse harder with every word he says.

“Squeezing me so well…” he mutters, roaming his hand over your ass. He spreads your cheeks, digging his fingertips into your flesh, and as he’s squishing you, his face becomes scrunched with desperation you haven’t seen on him before; on any guy you’ve been with really. “Fuck—“

“You can c-cum,” you speak up as your voice slightly shakes, “I’m close too…”

There’s a pleading note not only in your tone, but also in your dazed eyes that look up at him as the slamming of his body against yours becomes sloppier. He wants to last some more, but your clenching overwhelms him so much… despite it slowing him down, he still gathers all of his energy to keep up the intense strength of his thrusts.

“I can—“

“Please, p-please,” you cut him off, but immediately after you go silent, grasping his arm instead. Your nails leave an accidental scratch on his skin from the rushed movement, but you can’t help it; you lose all sense of control, and Seungmin a moment after you.

The last thing he sees before throwing his head back is the way your eyes roll back from the sensation hitting its final peak. His jaw falls open the minute he shoots his cum into the condom meanwhile his throat lets out a long deep groan.

The thrill flowing in his veins is striking; as if he finally gets a piece of something he’s been waiting for forever. For a while he just stays there, gliding slowly through your sensitive walls to get both of you back to reality before guiding your legs apart again.

As you try to catch your breath Seungmin leans forward, prepping on his two hands. Your lips are centimetres apart and it brings a flush to your face; it feels different when you’re this close without any clothes on, after you both came, and now you’re just holding onto him, keeping him warm inside you.

You kiss him back, placing your hands on his wide shoulders.

A muffled whine escapes your lips when he pushes himself into you deeply after pulling out almost all the way. The sound of your repressed sound brings a certain delight to his core, and he already wants to hear it again so he guides the fingers of his one hand down to your clit and puts some pressure with gentle circles.

The feeling of the slight overstimulation is not any less exciting for both of you.

Seungmin repeats the same move with his hips. You whimper into his mouth in sync with each sloppy thrust, causing his mind to turn foggy; the wet noise from your arousal becomes more clear as the seconds pass by, they almost echo into his head, making him dizzy. All he can think about is the two of you cumming again, having you chant his name and nothing else.

“Fuck—“ he pants after braking the kiss, leaving your lips puffy and reddish. “Fuck, I can’t s-stop…”

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t stop, keep going.”

Seungmin groans just from the tempting sound of your encouragement then hides his face in the crook of your neck. Even the way your fingers dip into his hair adds to his new wave of arousal.

After swiftly adjusting your hips higher he resumes the motions of his cock, but much quicker. He’s not teasing you slowly, anymore, he’s now eagerly aiming for your sweet spot to force another orgasm as soon as possible.

The stimulating effect starts seeping through your bodies, creating a burning knot in your tummies.

“Fuck, I needed this…” He says in one breath as his lips brush against your warm skin. The sounds of pleasure he makes start to flow more frequently; the intense groans noticeably evolve into whines that stick to your neck as he goes on. “Needed you s-so bad.”

“Then why did you wait?” You decide to ask for your surprise. Perhaps, you may regret this later, but for now, you’re not able to think straight. “Why now?”

Seungmin shifts to quickly take your wrists and pin them above your head. Your eyes widen a bit before you search for an answer in his darkened gaze, because you have a feeling that he’s not going to give you one.

His cock slows down the pace, and you already know there’s a possibility of you having to beg him to speed up soon, because you can’t put up with this.

“Haven’t I fucked you enough?” The corners of his lips curl up cunningly. “How are you still able to ask questions?”

You start to rock your hips as your heavy eyelids start to shut.

He chuckles at your needy actions, but then his own body betrays him by not being able to resist you at all.

He groans frustratedly after he begins to pound against you with full force. His hands grip your wrists in place while your legs stay wide open letting him chase your highs.

Every thrust Seungmin makes gives results exactly where you need it as if he somehow knows all your weak points already, and thanks to your crying voice in the bedroom, he can sense that too.

“Gonna m-make me c-cum… fuck, baby—“

You’re not able to tell if Seungmin says anything else. It’s like your mind melts the moment the warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach snaps. You tighten intensely around him, squeezing him hard as he throbs ready to release the pressure.

And that’s what he does after you let out another chain of wails while convulsing under his weight. You’re shaking, but he successfully tightens his grips despite his own body being overwhelmed by the ecstatic explosion of emotions too.

After slowly pulling out and removing the condom Seungmin collapses next to you and you both listen to each other trying to catch your breaths.

“I tried not to think about what happened.” He suddenly breaks the silence. “I tried to forget about you.”

You know the feeling; you tried to do the same thing, however, it still brings an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach from hearing him actually say it.

You’re about to comment when he tilts his head in your direction.

“But I realised that I don’t want that.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask quietly, unsure where this is going.

He moves his gaze from you towards the ceiling. It makes it easier to say it this way.

“I want to ask you out.”

Your lips part in surprise.

You notice that he keeps crossing his fingers, moving them around on top of his chest. Is he nervous?

You look up at the ceiling too, not able to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“… out on a date,” he feels the need to add, still avoiding your eyes which brings an amused smile to your face.

It’s obvious he lacks experience when it comes to this.

“Okay, Oh Seungmin.” You speak up at once. “I will go on a date with you.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[musubi-sama]

Game of Chicken

Satoru invited you to a club to see his favorite band play. But you have a boyfriend, so surely you can win this game of chicken?

CW: afab!reader x gojo satoru, modern au no curses, outdoor sex, piv, cunnilingus, DP if you squint.

AN: Shoutout to @/bunny584 and @/pseudowho for helping with two key elements! You two are amazing and I look up to you! And guess the name of the song and band I used.

WC: 5.1k | Link to AO3 if you prefer

~~~

Trying to quell the shivers of excitement and nerves, you focus on the road ahead of you. Glancing momentarily at the digital nav on your console, you change lanes in preparation to take the next exit. As you exit the freeway, you see another message arrive from Satoru.

>> Text me when you’ve parked and I’ll come down

You hadn’t planned on going out tonight, especially not planning to drive into the city and meet up with a new friend to go see a band at a local club. But when he sent you a text in the afternoon gauging your plans and interest, you all too eagerly responded yes.

Before you left for the evening, you sent off a message to your boyfriend:

<< going to Murasaki tonight, don’t wait up <3

An otherwise unremarkable drive, you spent the 30-minute trip with your music uncharacteristically low and your hands uncharacteristically fidgety on your steering wheel.

You’re just going to see a band with a friend. A friend, that you told your ridiculously tall, tanned, and handsome boyfriend about. A friend, whom your boyfriend assured you he is not worried about - you or him.

But each flick of the passing streetlights dances over your ticking hands gliding over the steering wheel. Light catches on the demure set of silver-shining rings your boyfriend bought you recently. They match a pair he wears on his right hand, while yours are thinner and more feminine for your left hand. The hands you hold when you’re sitting at home or walking around town.

Reaching Satoru’s building, you slip into the open visitor parking spot in the underground lot. Hopping out of your car, taking a deep breath to attempt to quell your nerves and quiet your hands, you send off a quick message:

<< hheree!

Damn your shaky hands! Again, sending off messages too quickly before you think.

A moment later after arriving in the cavernous, brutalist lobby, a shock of white hair attached to a tall, lanky body pops out of the elevator. Satoru is sporting a black and pink color block shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, distressed designer denim sitting perfectly on his hips and a sleek leather belt.

“Hey. Hi. C’mon up. How was the drive?” he says as you approach the elevator.

“The directions on the app sent me half-way around the city just to avoid the local roads,” you respond exasperated as you step into the elevator. The button for floor 41 is illuminated.

Satoru stands directly across from you and in a moment, you get a whiff of his sweet scent of vanilla and cherry. You’re fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and the lengths of necklace decorating your plunging neckline as you ride up the quiet elevator. It’s not like you’ve never spent time in a penthouse, in fact your boyfriend lives in one not too fa-.

Your thoughts are cut off as the elevator dings and opens up to a sprawling, blue and silver post-modern penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city. Satoru’s hand is resting in the space of your lower back, heat radiating into you but not quite making contact.

“Do you want a drink? We don’t need to leave just yet,” Satoru slips past you to the well-appointed bar area of his sprawling kitchen. A chill is left in the space where his hand sat, and it slides up your spine.

“Dirty martini, gin, if you have it would be lovely,” you take a seat at the oversized kitchen island seating. A drink will calm your nerves.

You’ve known Satoru for about a month, having met while in line for the deli counter during lunch. You both ordered sandwiches, then walked over to the drink cooler and tried to reach for the same can of seltzer, and somehow ended up next to each other at the register. After deciding to grab a seat and eat together, you exchange contact information and meet up for lunch weekly.

Knowing exactly what he was doing, Satoru carefully followed you around the deli creating “accidental” run-ins with you just so that he could sit down with you over lunch. A known playboy in the city, he was thinking only with his dick and with a goal in mind when he ran into you. And if tonight went well, you would be another notch in his bed post. And, if he played his cards right, a recurring one.

Satoru spent his entire life being gifted with everything. He owned the building you were standing in; his entire life was crafted for him specifically. Satoru only chose two things - his best friends and his sexual partners.

Satoru flashes a quick raised eyebrow at the request but quickly moves to grab the ingredients and set to mixing, “How many olives?”

“Hmm, four, please!”

You take in the view of the city from your perch. Even though it’s dark outside, you can still get a decent view as the lights are dimmed in the rest of the suite.

“Your drink,” Satoru slides the chilled and dangerously filled martini glass sitting atop a coaster across the shiny marble countertop towards you, not spilling a drop. He sits an old fashioned with four Luxardo cherries on a cocktail skewer in front of himself.

Satoru lifts his glass to yours, “kanpai!” as you gently bump your glasses together, still not spilling a drop. You take a quick sip and hum in satisfaction as the savory bite coats your tongue. You take a second, much larger sip before setting down your glass and picking up the skewer of olives.

“So,” you bite one olive off the stick, “who are we going to see tonight?”

The game of chicken has officially begun. You lay your first trap, shiny and red lips sliding around the piked olives.

“My best friend is the bassist in Jujutsu Kaisen and they’re playing a secret show tonight downtown.” Satoru follows your tease with a nip of the cherry from his own glass.

“Is this how you impress all your girls? With secret shows of mega stars?” another olive bitten.

“It’s not always girls,” he gives you a wink as he leans over the island, resting his head on his arm propped up by his elbow. The last two olives slip off the skewer because you need something to do with your agape mouth.

Winner of the game: whoever breaks second. You were going to win. You had to. You have a boyfriend, but you sure planned to enjoy the harmless chase. If you can chill out enough to enjoy it. The gin is really helping, though.

Stepping out of the building, Satoru leads you over to a luxury black car waiting for you and a driver holding the door open.

“This is too much, I thought you said we were just going to a bar to see a band?” you said incredulously, looking back at Satoru.

“We are. Ichiji is my personal valet. After you,” he waves you into the car and you slide in across the supple leather seats.

Satoru doesn’t think twice about how this looks. To him, this is standard operating procedure. He’d never considered any other way to get around the city. And of course, he asked Ichiji to use the sportier model today.

You take in the sights of the city as you take the quick 10-minute trip across downtown into the industrial district. Ichiji pulls up to a brightly lit club with a few throngs of people milling about.

Satoru leads you to the door, flashes something on his phone to the bouncer, and you’re both waved in. Sliding across the room to a pair of seats on the side of the club and a great view of the stage. Satoru slips away to grab you both drinks from the bar, returning after a few moments.

“My favorite shot to start the night, Red Headed Sluts,” he passes the shooter to you and you both take it in a single swallow. A small dribble leaks from the corner of your mouth. Satoru reaches over to wipe it off with his thumb, proceeding to lick it off while maintaining eye contact. You blush and immediately turn your head, trying not to look at Satoru after that.

Damn, lost that round. Focus, dammit.

Satoru slipped away again to return the shot glasses to the bar and get more drinks; this time a beer for you.

Checking the time, it’s almost time for the band to go on. The crowd has quickly started to fill in and you are developing a nice buzz, your head starting to feel a bit cloudy and suggestible.

The band comes out to roars from the crowd and you join in. Satoru stands behind you, one hand again hovering at your lower back. As they start their set, you get caught up in the music and fail to notice your date disappearing occasionally to keep your drink filled.

Each time he returns, his arms slowly reach up your body to rest on your shoulders. You’re in control, put your hands on his to make sure they don’t drift any further.

Then they encircle your shoulders, and you’re standing. Swaying your hips with the beat, lipstick marks on your glass appear with increasing regularity as you try to distract yourself. You’re playing against a master.

And slowly, Satoru’s arms reach down across your chest. By some definitions you have lost. But by the imaginary rules in your head, you move the goalposts. All is not lost. Other than your brain, in the moment. The band starts up a ballad, powerful chords racing through your veins, melodic lyrics and a stunning harmony between the lead singer and the bassist.

Satoru’s best friend, Suguru Geto, bassist of the band. His thick black hair, half pulled up into a bun, stretching down to his mid back, and bangs framing his face. Tall, broad and you can see the edges of tattoos extending across the edges of his shoulders into his bare chest. He has thick eyeliner, dark eyes, and a pair of sharkbites and large plug ear piercings to decorate his fierce face.

You’re going to lose the battle if you aren’t careful. Satoru, well-practiced in this game of cat and mouse knows that you are a timid mouse he needs to delicately trap if he wants to win.

An hour into the set, you are feeling incredibly buzzed, teetering on drunk. As the last song before the break starts, Satoru is now in front of you, standing between your legs and his arms are on your hips. His piercing blue eyes gazing down at you. There’s a slight smirk in his mouth as he slowly leans down. One hand traced its way up your side to pinch your chin and guide your lips to his.

Just before your mouths connect, you open your mouth to protest this moment. You have a boyfriend, what are you doing? This isn’t right, you’re already breaking so many rules. You need to stop, put distance between the two of you and keep it platonic.

But the song ends, music stops, the lights come up, and the band walks off stage for a short break. The crowds shift and move toward the bar, the door, and the bathrooms. You stand up abruptly, chest heaving, and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Some water on your face and a refresh of your makeup should help you calm down and fix this.

Standing at the sink, you take in yourself. You can do this, you can win.

Satoru grabs your drink to take a sip and finish it off. His pocket buzzing, he sees a text message from Suguru.

>> If you don’t fuck her tonight, I swear to god

Satoru chuckles and tips the beer bottle towards the now empty stage. The intended goal tonight was to do as much, at this point he just needed to convince you that you wanted this as much as he does.

You return after a long wait for the bathroom and with another drink. You’ve managed to calm yourself and you sit back down next to Satoru.

“Feeling better?” Satoru asks you as he places a hand leaning on your shoulder, just close enough to not touch your earlobe.

You shiver, unable to look him in the eye for more than a millisecond. “Y-yeah. I should probably drink some water,” you trail off. Satoru, already planning for that request, hands you a cup of water from the counter next to you. You take a long sip and the cold drink switches your nerves for cold shivers.

The lights flicker, indicating that the band is about to return to the stage. You join the crowd in cheering, focusing on the band and not the building desire burning between your legs. You’re here to see a band, and you have a boyfriend, one who satisfies you in ways you’d never even dreamed of. But there was something so enticing about what was standing right here, arms resting across your shoulders.

Hands drifting down from around your décolletage to brush the glittering peak of your breasts.

You arch your back slightly at the sensation, breath heavy with lust. Looking up and trying to focus on the concert, the bassist is singing into the mic, but his eyes are trained on you. Surely, he’s just scanning the crowd or looking for his friend, right?

But I'm only dancing / She turns me on But don't get me wrong / I'm only dancing

Your heart skips another beat, and you blush, tilting your head back and finishing off the drink.

Accepting that you’ve lost, you swallow your nerves and lean into the touch Satoru is giving you. Tilting your head back, you reach up to meet Satoru’s waiting lips. You take control and push your tongue into his mouth, taking your pleasure from him. Letting the alcohol suppress your inhibitions as you place your hands on Satoru’s while they continue to squeeze and massage your tits.

You pull away from the kiss. High from the adrenaline after jumping off the cliff.

“I need to tell you…” you trail off.

Satoru slides around to return between your seated legs.

“I don’t care, just don’t tell me about him.” Throbbing between your legs now taking over for all rational thought.

Satoru immediately leans down to leave a trail of increasingly stronger kisses along your neck. You stretch to give him better access. Your hands slip around the back of his head, scratching and pulling the nape of his neck and along his undercut. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you moan into his ear and bite down on his earlobe as you pull back.

“Let’s-let’s get going, back to my place,” Satoru doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool and head out the door. As you leave, you noticed the bassist still has his eyes trained on you.

You stand outside while Satoru gives Ijichi a call to come around with the car, only waiting a few minutes. Those minutes are filled with very handsy kissing until you hear a cough, signaling Ijichi’s arrival and gesture to get into the car.

Satoru slides in the car first and pulls you onto his lap straddling him. You look back towards the driver’s seat but before you can protest, you’re cut off.

“You didn’t have a problem when we were back there in the club. You even seemed to want to be seen by Suguru,” he taunts and gives your ass a hard slap.

Even in the darkness of the car, with the passing streetlights, he could see your blush.

“C’mon baby, let’s just have fun, okay? Don’t think too hard about it. Besides, it was hot seeing you show off for Sugu back there,” Satoru grinds up into you and you can feel his erection straining against his jeans.

Satoru is enjoying the chase tonight. Trying out new tricks, using old ones that have gathered dust. You’re fun to chase. Are you as much fun to capture?

You spend the rest of the, mercifully short, ride back to his penthouse slowly winding your hips across his crotch, hands resting on his chest as you tease and show off your form. Finding little relief on your own tortured arousal.

Once you arrive at Satoru’s building, the two of you stumble out of the car and into the elevator. Before the doors close, Satoru pushes you up against the back wall and slots his muscular thigh between your legs. You can’t help yourself but grind on his leg as his hands pull down the front of your shirt and exposing your lacy bra. He reaches in and pinches your nipples; you keen at the touch, sucking in a sharp inhale of air.

“Are you even going to make it to my floor?” he teases you, pushing his leg harder against your throbbing, clothed cunt.

All you can do in response is moan obscenely. At this point every drop of inhibition is gone and you push back on his chest causing him to step back from you. You use this moment to drop to your knees and begin to unhook his belt.

“No,” you exhale as you begin to palm his straining erection almost painfully pressing against the seams of his pants. You unbutton his pants as he starts to run his hands through your hair, but the elevator arrives at his floor, and you hear a soft ‘ding’ when the doors open.

Disappointed, you stand up quickly and shuffle into Satoru’s suite, adjusting yourself back into your shirt, kicking your shoes off at the door and dropping your purse. You check your phone and see a message from your boyfriend:

>>> have fun ;)

You immediately stuff the phone in your dropped purse in a panic. But as soon as you bend down, you feel a pair of hands around your ass and a clothed erection pressed up against you.

“You’re making it too easy, baby,” Satoru croons into your ear and you roll yourself up to standing holding contact.

“Are you complaining?” your pussy pulses as he continues to grab your ass with one hand and snakes the other around your abdomen and pulls you in tighter. Satoru leans in to take a nip at your neck before releasing you and walking over to the door for the veranda.

You follow in his wake, eager to see the view of the city from here. The chill of the midsummer night washes over you, but just as quickly, Satoru approaches you at the railing and engulfs your body with his.

He doesn’t waste any time sliding his hands up your shirt, unclasping your bra, and removing both in one fell swoop. Satoru drops your items on the edge of the balcony before spinning you around and kneeling before you to remove your shorts.

Oh, he looks stunning from this angle. Subservient but dominating in power. Another trick he hasn’t played in a while.

You rest the back of your forearms against the balcony, spreading your legs slightly once your shorts are off. Head buried in the ozone of lust and anticipation.

You slip one leg over Satoru’s shoulder as he leans up to whisper a touch of his nose to your clothed cunt as he inhales your sweet scent of arousal.

He palms his restrained cock as his free hand rubs over your needy bud, eliciting a whiny moan from you. Seeing how soaked your little, useless, thong is, he hooks his finger onto the scrap of fabric and pulls it aside.

You use your heel to push Satoru closer to you and he eagerly obliges. Placing his hands on each thigh, he spreads your legs more to gain easier access to your dripping pussy.

Satoru licks a long stripe up your cunt, gathering your copious arousal on his tongue. Coming back again, he takes his middle finger and teases your hole eagerly clenching around nothing. Focusing his tongue on your aching nib, he adds a second finger and you let out another strained whine. He slowly slides his fingers in and out, twisting his hand and curling the tips to drag against that spongy spot deep inside you. You buck at the pace of his ministrations, moans getting louder with each thrust.

The pressure is building in your core, your heel is digging in even more to Satoru’s back. He moans into you, the vibrations traveling up your spine through the ends of your hair.

“C’mon baby, give it to me,” Satoru moans into you. His fingers speeding up, one arm reaching around your waist, tongue pushing directly and lips sucking on your pulsing clit.

The sensations reach a fever pitch, and you scream out as your orgasm takes you. Your hips jut wildly, your hands grip the railing of the veranda, and you throw your head back as the electric shock runs through your body.

Once you have regained some semblance of control over your body again, you slide your leg off Satoru’s shoulder. Satoru pulls his fingers out and sits back on his heels once your leg releases him. Licking his fingers clean with a moan, savoring your taste.

Satoru stands up and cages you in against the railing, urgently crashing his lips on yours, sharing your taste covering his tongue, lips, and chin. You eagerly accept, moaning into him as you lightly bite his invading tongue.

“How about we move this somewhere more comfortable?” Satoru grabs your hand and leads you back inside.

He brings you down the hall to his bedroom, dim lighting accentuating his aethereal features. You fall back into the plush bedding while the bed dips with a shirtless Satoru sitting behind you, legs on either side of your body.

Rolling over and sitting on your knees, you gently push Satoru’s chest allowing him to fall backwards. Nimble hands slide their way back down his abdomen, following the dips and peaks. What luck of the genetic lottery did he win to have such divine musculature.

You quickly finish the job you started in the elevator and remove his pants. Running your hand over his twitching erection restrained by his tight black boxer briefs, you give a few squeezes before you quickly rid him of the final layer.

All ten inches of his veiny cock spring free and slap against his abdomen. Your nerves suddenly come crashing back. But this time, it’s over how you’ll be able to take all of Satoru in you. You look up and see a shit eating grin on Satoru, arms resting behind his head.

You’re not the first person to gawk over his size. Aside from the obvious prizes for winning this game, the stunned moments his dates share compete for this reward.

You grasp the base of his cock and start to slowly stroke up to the tip, gathering his leaking precum as you slide your hand back down. After several strokes, you slide your hips over his and line up your wet cunt with his angry red tip.

Satoru places his hands on your hips to guide you as you slowly sink down. All the teasing, the anticipation, the yearning has built to this moment.

“There you go, doll. Take it easy,” he chuckles as you gasp. Feeling full and it’s only barely halfway in, you let out a shakey moan. Bottoming out, you hold still for a moment before slowly rocking your hips back and forth. Savoring the fullness and depth he’s reached inside of you.

Locking eyes, you throw your head back, hair flying back in a splash as you pick up speed, taking control of your pleasure. You’ll deal with the consequences in the morning, the fun of chasing and capturing this apex specimen has you enthralled.

Sliding your hands up your body, giving in to the rhythm, you pinch your nipples and let your full tits fall and shake.

In an instant, a blink, and your world flips around and suddenly your chest is in the plush bed, a hand under your abdomen hiking you up. Pace never faltering, Satoru’s heavy balls now slapping against your ass as you’re pulled up onto your hands and knees.

“I loved the view, but something tells me you like this better,” he pulls back and finds that one angle that gets that scream from you.

You reach up to the headboard for leverage as you push back against Satoru. You can feel the coil winding again, deep in your stomach. A hand finds its way to your peaked nipples and with one, two, three pinches your orgasm washes over you again. You lose your grip on the headboard, crashing into the pillows while Satoru slows to feel your warm gummy walls pulse around him.

Not wanting to spill just yet, he waits until you’ve regained some control before reaching his thumb towards your little unused hole.

You feel a sudden wetness drip onto your ass as Satoru’s thumb presses the spit into you. Gasping at the intrusion, you just moan “more, please, god.”

With a smirk, Satoru slowly slides his thumb in and out, half speed to his hips. Using his other hand, he grips your plump ass and then pulls back for a loud slap. Not impressed with the sound of the first, he reels back for a second. This time, leaving a lovely red mark. Secretly hoping it is still visible when you go home in the morning to whomever is waiting for you.

“Baby, can I give you a mess?” Satoru asks, not a drop of fatigue in his voice, only lust.

Your mouth answers, again, before you can even think of a response, “please.”

Satoru pulls his thumb and cock out of you, precum and your slick leaving a sticky trail connecting the two of you as you roll over to your back.

Satoru is kneeling as if to propose and offering you pearls instead across your pussy.

As he finishes, you reach down to spread the sticky mess on your sensitive and hairline trigger clit. Utterly debauched, you cum with a yelp and arch your back at your own touch.

Satoru collapses on the bed next to you, taking your wet hand into his. You moan and clench your thighs as he cleans off your hands, taking each finger in turn, slowly rolling the digit around in his mouth and across his tongue.

“I should wash up,” you croak out, trying to avoid eye contact while your one-night stand seemingly fucks you again with his ocean blue eyes.

Satoru gives your fingers one final lick and slides out of bed. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the shower turn on. After a minute, he pops out of the door “shower’s this way, doll.”

Somehow you manage to wash up, in spite of an extra pair of hands and a sneaky pair of lips following after every clean patch of skin.

Falling asleep is easy, the warm afterglow of a couple orgasms and a spicy shower let you both drift off into the morning.

Rolling over, you’re awakened by vibrations coming from the headboard. You reach up and find Satoru’s phone ringing.

“Hey, fix it,” you grumble as you push the phone into Satoru’s chest. He removes his arm from under your head as he blinks several times attempting to read the caller ID.

“Yo,” his voice gravelly and clipped. “Mhmm, yeah sure no problem.” He hangs up and puts the phone back on the shelf.

Satoru reaches his arm across you and pulls you into the crook of his neck, kissing the top of your head.

“Hi,” you mumble as you stretch your leg across his.

“Breakfast? I’m in the mood for pancakes,” a rogue hand makes its way down your back onto the swell of your ass.

“And some ibuprofen?” your free hand finds its way through his abs. You can’t believe how someone who just woke up doesn’t have morning breath nor the musty musk of a just-awoken body.

“How about a hair of the dog that bit you?” he winks as he gets out of bed and puts on a pair of lounge pants, letting them hang low.

You walk around the corner, hearing an unexpected voice coming from the kitchen. Clad in nothing but a button-down shirt you pulled from Satoru’s closet, you decide to make the best of it and ignore any shame for being the one-night stand the morning after.

“Hey handsome, pancakes smell good,“ you stop short as you round the corner and see who Satoru is talking to.

“Hey baby, sounds like you had a good night,” Suguru turns away from Satoru to face you as you approach the kitchen. He gives you a slow elevator stare. “Looks it, too.”

“I-I did. And you sounded amazing last night, I loved the new song,” you excitedly bounce over to Suguru a kiss on the cheek and join him at the kitchen island.

“Hey Satoru, you should be more careful where you put your guests’ clothes. These-“ Suguru places a shirt and bra on the table, “were laying on the sidewalk this morning. And considering I bought them for my girlfriend, I know they came from your veranda.”

Satoru’s jaw hits the floor as he attempts to work out what is unfolding in front of him. Suguru never mentioned he had a girlfriend, and you didn’t mention a boyfriend. Wait, then why did he send that text message last night?

“I’m sorry but what is happening?” Satoru points his spatula at you, catching you in the middle of a messy kiss with Suguru.

“When I found out my lovely girlfriend ran into you, we decided to see how long it would take before you tried to get into her pants,” you’re pulled closer to Suguru.

“It was my idea, once Sugu filled me in on your sordid history.”

Satoru rolls his eyes at the implications.

“Yeah. Now, I tipped the deck in my favor by setting up the private show last night. I knew you couldn’t resist the tempatation.”

“What am I, some common manwhore?” Satoru cries as he puts a hand on his hip and returns to the griddle.

“Yes” both you and Suguru respond in unison.

“But a manwhore with a really nice ass,” you add.

Satoru just sighs and serves up three plates.

[leonslutkennedeeznuts]

Lovin' Your Skin | Tattoo Artist!Leon x Fem!Reader

"With that, Leon flexed his arms so you could get a better look. He was covered in ink. You wanted to spend all day and night tracing your fingers over the works of art inked onto his skin, hearing his stories about what each tattoo represented." (AO3) | Tattoo Artist Leon credit:  tanya.gavva

You didn’t even want a tattoo but you figured it wouldn’t be that bad. Your pain tolerance was low, you weren’t 100% certain the design you’d picked would look good on your skin forever but Leon was sooo gorgeous. Just to be near him in the tattoo parlor for a few hours would make everything so worth it. Or so you’d thought.

Leon was covered in tattoos. He had sleeves on both arms and you could see the beginning of a neck piece as you stole a few glances at him here and there. He was so focused the few times you’d gone by the shop to watch him work. He was your friend’s tattoo artist. This was all her fault really. Months ago she’d asked you to come by with her for yet another tattoo and when you’d seen the blonde haired beauty of a man who did the work, you were head over heels.

“Name’s Leon,” he’d said as he shook your hand.

Leon. A name you wanted to be screaming every night.

“What makes you want a tattoo,” he’d asked you as your friend checked out her finished piece in the mirror behind him. “It can be addicting, I must warn you.”

You didn’t want a tattoo. You wanted him. Same difference.

“Always thought about it,” you lied, awkwardly laughing. You hoped he couldn’t read the lust on your face as you caught a glimpse of him licking his lips. “Yours look really cool, very intricate.”

With that, Leon flexed his arms so you could get a better look. He was covered in ink. You wanted to spend all day and night tracing your fingers over the works of art inked onto his skin, hearing his stories about what each tattoo represented.

“Wow,” you whispered, stepping closer to get a better look. “You did these all yourself?”

Leon shook his head. “Most but not all. Couldn’t reach my back but I designed that piece myself.” He winked at you before asking. “You want to see it?”

It was pathetic how fast you shook your head yes. Leon’s body was a work of art in itself. He made a little show of taking his shirt off for you, your friend laughing and shaking her head in the background still eying her own ink. How she was immune to Leon’s charm and sex appeal was beyond you.

Leon had a rose tattoo that started the sleeve on his right shoulder, in honor of his grandmother he’d said, that led into abstract shapes, you spied a spiderweb on his elbow and even a sea turtle on his inner arm, an Eagle on his neck- you stopped trying to decipher everything and started to take in the view of his abs. He’d been getting tattooed since his 21st birthday, something he’d done with his friends on a drunken dare after failing out of the police academy but quickly discovered his love of the profession.

After opening his first tattoo shop at 27, he started designing and doing his own tattoos as best as he could to promote his business. Now he was booked up months in advance. He always made time for your friend though.

His chest wasn’t covered yet, he’d mentioned thinking of leaving that bare for now. You imagined how your hands would rest perfectly on his pecs as you rode him into oblivion.

Leon caught you staring, you weren’t really hiding it. You wondered if he was tatted up from the waist down as well, how your untouched flesh would look against his in the heat of passion, how you wanted his name breathlessly leaving your lips-

“Do you want a tattoo, seriously?” Your friend’s voice cut through the sexual tension like a knife. “I think she’s lying, Leon.”

“No, I’m serious! I do want one. I have a Pinterest board of ideas,” you spat out hurriedly. “Here,” you said, lifting up your sleeve to show the spot on your wrist where you wanted to be inked.

Leon, still shirtless, took your wrist into his hands, eying it and you. “A wrist tat, hmm? I’d be honored to be your first,” he’d simply stated. Still shirtless. Still eyeing you in disbelief.

If he wanted to call your bluff, so be it as long as he was calling you.

“Yep and maybe a neck one too, ya know, one that people can’t see unless I wear my hair up.”

Your friend rolled her eyes and began to grab her purse and car keys. From what you’d seen her tattoo was beautiful, a bright Koi fish on her left shoulder to match the aquatic sleeve she was getting done eventually.

“I will believe it when I see it, Y/N. Don’t waste Leon’s time just because you think he’s hot,” she chided jokingly as she went to the door.

Leon put his tank top back on and handed you one of his business cards, letting his fingers linger on yours for a bit too long to be an accident.

“Well, Y/N, if you’re serious here’s my contact information. I don’t have any openings really in the next few months but text me and I will see what I can do for you.” He winked at you again. “Want to see this Pinterest board of yours.”

“Oh, right, totally! I’ll send you the link.” Great, now you had to create a Pinterest board of tattoos that you hoped Leon thought were cool. Your eyes lingered to the perfect pout of his lips then to his cerulean eyes. “I can’t wait to set up my appointment with you, Leon.”

You weren’t planning to actually get a tattoo. You just wanted a way to talk to him really and the guy owned a tattoo shop, clearly that was something he was passionate about. What better way to get his attention than to get him to tattoo you himself? Right?

—-------

It was Leon that actually called you first.

After that evening in his shop, you realized that if you did reach out to him that it would be obvious you weren’t really serious about all this. You were sure women flocked at him all the time with lies about tattoos to get him in their bed. You wouldn’t be the first.

Your friend was no help. She claimed that Leon either had a girlfriend already or was hooking up with a fellow artist at another shop.

“Her name starts with J, I think,” she’d said deep in thought. “Or maybe it’s the redhead biker chick from that bar.”

But you forgot all about that when you got a call from an unknown number a few days later.

“Leon?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed with a slight chuckle. “I never heard back from you about the tattoo, was wondering if you changed your mind about seeing me.”

You always wanted to see him. From the few times you’d met he had an effect on you but he was a huge flirt. Maybe he was just trying to get a new client aka more money, nothing personal.

“Oh, I- the tattoo,” you sighed and decided to come clean. “Look, Leon, I don’t know about that anymore.”

“Understandable, I honestly figured as much.” You heard some faint background noise of a horror movie playing in the background. Seems like he was home alone on a Friday night too.

“Well, in the spirit of being honest, Y/N, I was hoping to just see you again. Tattoo or not.”

You almost dropped your phone in shock. You didn’t know what you thought Leon’s type was but it definitely wasn’t you. He seemed like a total badass, a bad boy. You were a goody two shoes overachiever working a boring 9-5 while Leon was a daredevil risk taker.

Plus you were pretty sure Leon was a little over six years older than you. Which made his admission all the more arousing. You couldn’t help the throbbing you felt between your legs now.

“Cat got your tongue,” he teased, clearly enjoying this.

“No, I’m just kind of shocked,” you admitted. “I didn’t think I was your type really.”

You thought back to the women your friend had mentioned Leon dated. You’d seen them both in passing, looked nothing like you (or one another) but they were gorgeous. You felt so basic by comparison.

Leon was silent for a bit, you almost thought he’d hung up before you heard him clear his throat. “Hmm, how about I take you out tomorrow night and show you how much of my type you are?”

It was a date.

—-------

You don’t know exactly how this happened. One minute you were agreeing to let Leon walk you to your apartment door and the next he had you wet and begging for him to fuck you, his lips on your neck definitely leaving hickeys for everyone to see that you were his. The date had gone very well to your surprise and now it was about to get even better.

First thing you noticed about Leon was that he was an amazing kisser. His hands were feeling you up all over, just enough to get you hot and bothered and leaning into his embrace silently begging for more. He sucked your tongue and grinded into you, almost dry humping on the couch before you couldn’t take anymore and told him where your bedroom was.

Leon was an animal in bed and yet still a total gentleman, which you kind of expected but nothing prepared you for the real thing. He didn’t have tattoos from the waist down, and yes you looked quite thoroughly while you were down there with his dick sliding down your throat.

You’d never enjoyed giving head before tonight, before you’d met Leon and heard his whispers, groans and moans as you sucked him. At this angle, he was able to play with your pussy and rub your clit as you licked his pre-cum covered tip before attempting to deep throat him again.

“Fuck, Y/N, so good, you’re such a good girl,” he moaned. He slipped a finger, then another into your wet pussy. “Mmm, so tight, baby.”

You couldn’t talk if you wanted to with him so deep in your mouth but you moaned around his cock, causing him to cuss under his breath and pull out completely, not wanting to cum just yet. He rubbed his shaft on your swollen lips, your mouth almost desperately trying to suck him back in.

Leon took his fingers out of your pussy and sucked on them. “Gonna enjoy eating you out,” he whispered, kissing his way down to finally taste you. “I won’t stop until you cum.”

You could’ve finished right then and there just hearing him say that. When his tongue licked your center then up to your clit, you almost screamed. It felt so good, too good. You didn’t think you were going to last long at all. Seeing Leon’s gorgeous flush face clearly enjoying the taste of you was already too much and he’d only just started.

He held you by the back of your knees, pressing them into your chest as he licked, sucked and ate you like a man starving. You’d never cum from this before, never had someone so into it. You were squirming and bucking into his mouth earning more moans from him. When his tongue dipped into your pussy you did scream, his name leaving your lips over and over as you squealed and released onto his tongue.

“Leon, I’m cumming,” you whined in an almost broken voice, your toes curling and your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh fuck, too much,” you begged, trying to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail as he kept licking you, refusing to waste a drop of your cum. “Leon, please.”

When Leon said he wouldn’t stop until you came, what he really meant was that he wouldn’t stop until you came twice. Despite the cramp in your legs you gripped his blond hair so hard you knew it was painful for him but he didn’t seem to mind, sucking and tonguing your pussy with more vigor than before.

He slid two fingers back into your pussy and you almost accidentally kicked him due to overstimulation. You were almost boohoo crying as Leon was just eating you out without a care in the world. You had no idea what you’d do when he finally fucked you, your nails clawing up his tattooed back leaving your own imprint on his skin even if it didn’t last forever.

Leon moaned and hummed against your cunt knowing how close you were again already. “Cum for me again, Y/N.” After a few more thrusts of his fingers against your g-spot you were seeing stars. “Now.”

This time you were sure the neighbors heard you. You’d be embarrassed at how pitiful you sounded later because right now you were in the throes of passion. Leon held you down with no effort as your body jerked and bucked against his eager mouth.

Nobody had ever made you cum this hard, reducing you into a blubbering mess, begging Leon to fuck you as your sweet cum covered his mouth and jaw.

“Holy shit,” you managed to breathe out when he finally freed you from his grasp. You didn’t know if you were floating or still laying on the bed at this point. If he told you it was Christmas day you’d believe him, your mind was so frazzled. “Fucking Christ, Leon.”

His Cheshire cat grin appeared above you, eying you with pure lust and pride. Leon had never been with someone so vocal before, it definitely stroked his ego.

“Believe me now?” Leon didn’t wait for you to respond before rubbing the tip of his cock against your almost sore clit.

“How about now,” he teasingly asked before slapping his shaft on your pussy.

He was so hard, almost painfully so. He’d wanted you since the first time you’d met but figured you weren’t into guys with tattoos. Go figure.

“Leon, please, just fuck me already,” you begged. You arched your back into his embrace, staring into his eyes as kept teasing you. “I’ll believe you when you fuck me.”

You knew Leon wasn’t going to be a missionary kind of guy, nothing wrong with that position but after having it so often with your lackluster ex, you wanted something a bit more. Being folded like a pretzel on the edge of your bed as Leon slid into you, his thick cock hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering- just what the doctor ordered.

With a pillow under your head you had the perfect view to watch Leon fuck you hard, deep and fast. Your slick was covering his cock, the sounds of your wetness and his balls slapping against your ass the soundtrack of your fuck session as the mattress creaked underneath you.

He was caressing your bouncing tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over just yet. You could barely decipher what you were even saying, just heavy breathing, squeaking and squealing Leon’s name over and over, praising and thanking him.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper above you. Leon was in awe at the sight of your tight, little pussy creaming on his cock. He made sure to get you nice and wet so you could take him all without pain. “Fuck, Y/N, I want to fill you up.”

You gripped his tattooed arms to stay grounded to reality as your orgasm crept up on you, trying to memorize every piece of ink on his flesh in case this was a one time thing- in case you were actually dreaming and he wasn’t really here with you.

“Yeah, cum in me, Leon,” you heard yourself saying. It was like an out of body experience. You honestly felt like you’d disintegrate when you finally came on his fat dick. “It’s your pussy, baby. Only yours.”

Leon thrust into you slowly as you both came hard, bodies shaking and aching as you messily kissed one another, hands roaming all over while Leon grunted and came inside of you. You made sure to rub and caress his back as he did so, enjoying how he gave into your embrace as he filled you up until his cum began dripping out.

You still weren’t sold on getting a tattoo any time soon but dating a tattoo artist who was a beast in bed wasn’t the worst thing ever, you figured as sleep took over you both.

[wayrad]

hiii number 15 on that prompt list would be delicious if u fancy it

omgosh yes anything for you legend <3

for prompt 15: “this is going to hurt, okay?”

Usually John’s the rash one, the on who jumps in over his head, doesn’t think things through. Prefers it that way, too; if he’s going off the deep end at least he knows Gale will be there to reign him back in. Get a hand on his nape and tell him knock it off, Bucky, always in that tone of voice that John needs.

That’s not how it happened today. Today, just another tick on the wall, and Gale woke up on the edge. He goes non-verbal, somedays, has got a storm brewing in him, and no seems to notice it but John. He knew today was a bad one, and not just for Gale; the Luftwaffe officers feel it too. The edge, like a knife licking up the spine. They hold their rifles a little higher, the chains on their dogs a little looser.

Gale had been so quiet. He’d never been the one they watch, especially not on days like these, but. But.

And John should’ve known. Should’ve.

Now, perspiration gathers on Gale’s severe brow bone. He looks pasty as a ghost, sounds like one too; the air in his lungs is rattling about like it’s slipping through the cracks of him. He looks drunk- but that’d be a mercy in here.

“Gale,” John says, tries, for what seems like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes. “Gale, baby. Baby can you hear me?”

The pain’s making him delirious. He’s in shock, too, up to his head in it, shivering, muttering all incoherent. And John hasn’t been able to look at it, not for long- Gale's sleeve, pulled up, what’s waiting there for them. It’s still in the shape of a mouth, like the mutt was still hanging onto Gale’s tattered flesh, yanking, pulling as the German officer just watched and let it all happen.

John had ordered every man to stay out. He’d— handle it. He’d take care of Gale.

“I’m going to get your shirt open, okay?” he says slowly, taking the ruddied fabric between his fingers. When he shifts it experimentally Gale’s chest heaves, a wet sob breaking apart from his lips. It’s the loudest he’s been all day, loudest he's been since the bite took him.

John takes Gale's shoulders, hopes it's soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he lulls. "Ain't no doctors around, not yet. Just me. I'm doing the best I can, huh?"

To that, Gale says nothing. Just clutches at his shoulder like he's trying to keep his arm attached to his body. John gives up on getting Gale's shirt off the right way; he finds little dull scissors the guys use to cut out pinups and takes the sleeve right from the seam. Warm clothes are hard to come by, and Gale would say as much, if he could.

Without the fabric to cover the gash, John's faced with the gravity of their situation. Puncture wounds litter the purpling skin of Gale's forearm, blood tacked and dripping across his wrist. There are chunks of skin missing. Around it, a mottled bruise blooms purple and green over the entire thing, makes John think it really could fall off.

"Jesus," he mutters. They've got nothing to clean it with, nothing proper, but- and that's an idea. John cups Gale's jaw. "Hey. I'm not leaving, okay?" he says. Gale shivers against him. His skin is clammy and too-hot, but he nods, and that's something.

John makes across the room, below his bunk, to where a jar of contraband liquor is stashed next to the notebook he was able to scrounge up a couple weeks ago.

This isn't exactly the special occasion he'd been saving it for.

Rounding up on Gale again, John smooths his sweat-stringy hair from his forehead. "Gale," he says. "This is going to hurt, okay?"

Gale flashes John his eyes- blue and full of pain- and John almost can't do it. Almost.

He unscrews the cap and tips, takes Gale's wrist when he jerks, crying out in pain. Forces it down. He holds Gale's arm and doesn't stop pouring until he runs through the entire jar. "Shh," he says, and it isn't enough, nothing could be enough. "Shh, Buck, it's okay."

Gale's body kicks against his chair. Slumps, eyes shutting. He's hasn't got enough fight left in him to break John's grip: he isn't eating, isn't sleeping, and now this. John's never seen him like this before. Not once in his life.

"Did good, Gale, huh?" John says. Presses his lips to the fire-hot skin of his forehead, slumping too. "Did good."

[yeyinde]

hoooooo boy. m!mc anon here - your response was extremely interesting and i am a little obsessed with your brain (i’d like to study it, you truly come up with the most delicious ideas)

but i also have to say that out of all of tf 141, that idea for soap was actually so delicious that i had to physically put my phone down for a while. respectfully, that is the hottest thing i’ve probably ever read. even more feral soap?? forcefem?? phew. amen.

thank you for giving me more material to zone out to in the middle of the day (praying hands emoji)

ahhh thanks!!! i started to drag on more about m!Reader and Johnny, but. this happened lmao. so here is some nasty Johnny picking up m!Reader in a bar.

forced!fem. switch Johnny. m!reader is described as being very masculine presenting. but in the flavour of Will Graham's whole aesthetic

All things considered, it's a little clichè.

Older man (—ish, you amend mentally, remembering the birth year on his driver's license when you chanced a peek over his forearm as he rifled through his wallet: 1982—millenial) hits on a younger man in a crowded sports bar. Opens the conversation with haven't seen you around here before, and let's the defined chisel in his jawline do the heavy lifting in place of a personality. Adds a wink to that line, too.

Thighs pressed tight against each other on the stool. Arms brushing. Speaks purposefully when it gets rowdy so he has to lean in close, stubbled jaw grazing your cheek as he mock whispers his lacklustre response to a question you didn't ask. Buys you beer. The expensive kind, too. Laughs when you ask what he's drinking and orders something that makes him seem like he's more of a man than you are.

For a brief period between intermissions—when it gets quieter and he conveniently sneaks off to the washroom—you debate picking up the heavy innuendos he's trying to put down. It could be worse, you think, staring at the only other potential lay you've been entertaining over the last two weeks.

You could be getting mediocre sex from a guy who keeps sending you unasked for pictures of his cock and hole. One you keep dodging by adding an appropriately enthused wow, all this and it's only 10am on a Tuesday to every "yep, that's a dick" image he sends in place of a real conversation.

The sarcasm gifting you yet another unasked for picture of his hand around his cock. Sure is, baby. But—

"be better if ye were 'ere wit' me."

You startle, phone cracking off the edge of the counter. "Shit—"

The person over your shoulder peels away for a moment. "Ah, sorry. Ack—is yer phone alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you breathe, tapping on the screen. It flicks on. You're graced with another picture of his ballsack. The caption—

"need yer cock s'fuckin' bad—"

You cut him a sharp glance over your shoulder. It's rude. You're a little annoyed at having your travesty of a sex life aired out for every obnoxious wannabe cowboy to overhear, but the irritation is stemmed by the fill of liquid hazel—and flecks of blue, you think; a pretty blue ring around oxidizing copper.

Larimar. Marbled with umber. Framed around glossy white streaked with small rivers of red. Tinged slightly yellow—undoubtedly from the pack of cigarettes you find stuffed into the breast pocket of his red, gingham button down when you tear your eyes away from him. The look too intense. Too much.

Taking stock of everything else about him is just as flustering. The gingham draped loosely over him. Wrinkled sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Collar opened until the last few buttons around his navel. He's wearing a black shirt beneath that glues to his skin, pulling taut around his sternum and collarbones. A gold chain with a thick, heavy cross sits in the valley between, swinging when he rocks back on his heels.

Thick thighs stuffed into jeans that stretch to fit. The bottoms tucked half-heartedly into a pir of black, leather boots.

The shirt shifts when he moves, pulling tight around his broad shoulders as he lifts the last swig of a beer bottle to his lips. Beneath the coarse, black hair that dusts over the pale, peachy skin of his forearms, the back of his hands, his knuckles (Jesus Christ), his muscles flex. Bunching tight under veined flesh.

It makes sense to follow the trail to those sucking lips, but you catch a flash of pale pink, the sweep of a blood-red tongue through the hazy brown of the translucent rim of the bottle and feel your heart lurch in your chest.

You try to swallow but your throat is dry.

He makes a noise as he drinks. A sucking slurp, the plop of his lips unglueing from of the mouth of the bottle. A quiet, groaning ahh whispered under his breath.

It pulls your eyes up, forcing you to fill in the rest of this puzzle, and you know, even before the same dense cropping of hair that covers his arms (hands, fingers) starts to show at the black hem of his Henley that you made a mistake. A grievous one. He's handsome.

Defined jaw. Implish lips. An angular nose. Thick, full brows. The same pale, peachy skin sloping up his neck, chin, cheeks, and forehead before disappear into dark brown, almost black, hair. An untrimmed mohawk. A scar on the side of his head, cutting clean along his temple and stretching back to his ear. The hair around it is sparse. Shaved. The gorge of his scar a dark pink inside. Healed, but—

Raw.

A little like the rest of him. Rougish, in a way. Fractured.

His hair is matted down on top. Toussed along the unblemished, overgrown side, but flat on his crown.

The mystery, however, is solved when he flicks a ballcap onto the table beside you with a crooked quirk of his mouth. All teeth. White, sharp.

The man slips into the stool your date was occupying with a sniff, the smooth ridge of his nose bunching up. Displeasure drapes itself over his expression, a little rumple in his brow. "Screamin' Jesus. Dunno wha's thicker. His cologne or his come-ons."

The barb is unexpected. You try to hide your snort behind a grimace, rubbing the tip of your nose with a rough finger. He catches it, though. The pinch in his brow smoothing out as he grins wide, vicious.

Your heart lunches. Stutters uncomfortably in your chest. "You watchin' me or something?"

He turns in the seat, knee bumping into your thigh. Crowding you easily as he folds over the tabletop, elbow dropping to the table with a muted thud. His cheek slides into his palm, head tilting as he considers your words. The implication.

And then he grins wider. "Or somethin'."

Cocky. You scoff, but it just makes him look more amused.

"Tha' yer type?"

"Hmm?"

He motions to the nearly untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. Then to your phone.

"All talk," he enunciates each word, letting his accent pull taut around the syllables. "An' no action."

"No action? You don't think buying me beer and sending dick pics, begging for a fuck, is no action?"

"Aye—" he reaches for the beer he placed down beside his cap, and takes a generous swallow as you pretend the shift in his throat isn't making you a little light headed. He peels away with a grunt. "Ah do."

"Yeah?" You scoff, bringing the nozzle to your mouth to quench the ache in your throat. The soft preen coiling in your chest. Stupid words like, so what about it, pretty boy? wanna take me home. "What would you do instead?"

"I'd split yer pussy open on my cock in the loo. Let everyone in this bar hear ye moanin' fer me—"

You choke, barely have time to put the bottle down before you're haccking into your fist. He has the decency to pat your back as you wheeze.

"Ain't got a pussy," is what you settle for after a beat, voice hoarse. Wrecked. The way he shudders at the sound is unmistakable. Your neck feels hot. Itchy.

"Oh, sure ye do," he leans in close, warm breath fanning over your cheek. "A nice, tight little pussy fer me to fuck—"

"I'm a man." You feel a little stupid saying it. As if any part of you could be mistaken for slight. For soft. Feminine. You work with your hands. Grew up in the backcountry. Fishing before you could talk. Chewing tobacco before you hit puberty. Your old man made sure to pound that notion into your head before you even know what it meant to be a child. "I don't know what kinda games you're playing, but—"

"ahm no' playin' games," he shrugs, leaning back. It gives the idea of space. Distance. But his hand finds its way your denim-clad thigh, nails skimming the inside seam of your jeans wear the material is softer, worn down from friction. Too high to be appropriate.

You should move. Snap at him to take it off. Growl the words out if you have to do.

(Punch him, maybe. But he looks like the sort who would like that too much, you think. Rough. Dirty. Not afraid to fight back with his teeth if he needs to.

come on, baby, hit me harder—)

Your knee jerks. His grip tightens. "I got a cock. Not a pussy."

He makes a face at that. His full bottom lip juts out, angling to the side in confusion. "Ah ken? Ahm plannin' on ridin' that cock tonight, aye. The one yer little date is so desperate fer—"

"Jesus—" you wheeze, cock thickening in your jeans. Men aren't—

They're not usually so forward with you. It's nudging innuendos. Beer. A whispered wanna get outta here when the bar is about close and no one else is around to see it. You know what you look like. And it's not—

Soft.

"Easy," he taunts, grinning. "Don't choke so soon. 'aven't even go' ma cock out—"

You're not entertaining this. Absolutely not. He's—

Well. You're not sure what he is, but he's not normal. Not right. And you're not that desperate.

(maybe)

But the words die in your throat when his bright eyes glance down at your empty bottle, a frown forming over his pretty, pink lips like you not having anything to drink right away was somehow the most inconvenient thing to him.

"Get ye a drink?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. Then: "thanks."

It's softer. Gritty. The word scrapes over your throat in a way that almost hurts.

You blame it on the beer you drank before. Sloshing around your empty stomach and making you feel wildly off-kilter. Tipsy, maybe. Too drunk. Vulnerable to kindness (however threadbare it might be) when you usually get lewd pictures and beer you didn't ask for.

He flags the bartender down with a flick of his wrist. Keeps his eyes listed toward you as he leans over the counter, whispering something in his ear that you can't hear. Unease knots in your stomach. Cold fingers linking together, pressing frigid knuckles to your soft lining.

You look away when he drops back into his seat, hand finding its way back to your thigh. Gripping tight. Possessive. It curls around you. His warmth, his touch. The smell of him—sweet wheat, lemongrass; something earthy, like the damp, wet scent of mid-autumn; maple leaves stuck to the pavement after a late night rain shower—and you breathe slowly through your nose, both eager for the smell and sick of it. Sweet maple. Tart pumpkin. Your fingers twitch. You fold them into fists, glancing down at the spread of his hand on you.

His knuckles are red. Blotchy. Raw. The skin on his middle finger is cut across the wrinkled folds of his joint. The knick is deep. Almost a circle if not for the way it tears on the side, streaking outward. The outer edges of the crater are white. The inside pink before it turns to a deep red in the middle. Clotting already.

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. Unhinging your jaw takes more effort than you can expend, and you pant, a little, when your mouth finally pries apart. The words thicken on your tongue.

What happened—

The bartender comes back, his shadow falling over the counter. You jerk your head up, blinking at him as he places something down in front of you.

Something pink.

You swallow again. "Uh, what's this?"

"Sex on the Beach," the man answers, waving the bartender off. "Pretty drink fer pretty little thing."

"You wanna get punched? Because this is how you get your teeth knocked out—"

"Oh, baby," he purrs, accent rolling over the words in a way that goes straight to your cock. "If that's what yer intae, ah don't mind gettin' a little bloody fer ye. Might make suckin' yer pretty little cock easier."

Little. Your throat aches. Your mouth is dry. The beer is gone, cleaned empty bottles cleaned up by the bartender. Trying to swallow only makes the sting in your throat more prominent and does little to relieve the burn.

In front of you, the pink drink sits mockingly. Beads of condensation drip down the glass.

It's not even the stupid implication of a man drinking a cocktail that keeps you from reaching for it, but the fact that he ordered it for you with that in mind. Pretty drink fer a pretty—

Your throat clicks. Flesh glueing together when you swallow. Peeling away painful when you breathe.

Fuck it, you think. It doesn't mean anything. Not to you. Not at all.

When you reach for it, his head jerks over to you. Staring, unabashedly, as you bring it your lips and take a sip.

He groans. The hand on your thigh tightens. "Good girl."

It heats you up. Buzzes in the back of your head. You should get out of here. Leave. Go home and sink your head into your pillow, squeeze your eyes shut until all these terrifying feelings are snuffed out. Smothered. Tucked back into a box you didn't realise you had—

"Wanna come home wit' me? Let me fuck yer pretty pussy until I cum?"

The swell of anticipation in your chest makes you flinch. "I told you—"

"Ye want it, don't ye?" His hand moves higher up your leg, bleeding warmth through the denim. "Want me to make fuck ye. Make ye cum around ma cock. Bet ye have th' sweetest little cunt—"

"Fuck—" you shiver. His word wrap around your hindbrain, a soft touch that makes you feel hot. Itchy. Your heart pounds. You wonder if he can hear it. "I don't—"

"Gonnae let me taste it. Sit tha' pretty arse on ma face, aren't ye? Ride me until ye cum."

"I can't—" you force the words out of your throat, feeling the scrape against the soft tissue inside until it hurts. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but—"

"ahm tryin' tae take a pretty girl home—" girl. Girl. You shudder, feeling sick. Nauseous. "'ave her spread her pretty legs fer me..." he leans in, lips brushing your warm cheeks. "Let me ride that pretty cock until she cums—"

"Stop it—"

His hand finds your cock, thick in your jeans. Pressing tight against the zipper. "Gonnae fuck me so good, aren't ye? Not gonnae let ye cum unless it's inside me—"

"You're—ah, fuck—" his hand rubs over your bulge, eyes hooded, heavy, as you twitch. A wet spot grows, dark and unmistakable against the cool blue denim. "A—anyone ever tell you that you're kind of a freak?"

"an' yer a messy girl—" another pulse. The patch grows. It shouldn't turn you on. This sort of talk—it's not something you've ever been interested in before. Ever tried. Outside of porn—big, barrel chested men crushing another in their arms, growling about how they're gonna knock them up—it never surfaced. Never reared. "Gonnae let me clean ye up?"

You should say no.

It's on the tip of your tongue. No, leave me alone. Get the fuck off of me. Say that shit to me every again, and I'll—

His hand slides up, fingers curling over your clothed cock in a way that knocks the thoughts from your head, leaving nothing behind but an empty space. An ache. An itch. Something that needs to be filled.

Your phone chimes. Another text. You don't have to look down to know what it is, but his hand slides over, fingers dropping to the sleek, black surface. He pulls it to him with the pads of his index and middle finger. You should stop him. Grab it back. Leave—

"Need yer thick cock inside o'me," he narrates, mouth ticking up in a terrifying smirk. All teeth. A dogtoothed grin. "Now, there's a thought."

He dips his chin, tongue poking out from between his lips as he types something back in response. You can't see what it is from this angle, but the pinch in his brow, the glimmer in his eyes—you're sure this guy, potential candidate; looming mediocre lay, will have you blocked in five minutes. When he glances back, a tendril of something darkly satisfied brimming in the amber of his eyes, you amend it to right now.

You huff. "Shouldn't take things that don't belong to you."

The man stares at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes creasing in that same soot-stained amusement he had when he ruined your chances with the too-pink tip of his tongue hanging out. Satisfied dog. It's unnerving.

You think it scares you.

Or—

It should.

Whatever he finds as he fossicks through the fragments of your shattering composure, it seems to make him purr. His pupils expand. His nostrils flare. He leans in again, and you taste ash on your tongue. "M'ready tae leave."

It's not a question. The with you rings out like a gunshot in the back of your head.

You should say no. It's been on the tip of your tongue this whole time. No. No. Leave me alone. Go away—

But each time you try to pry apart your clenched jaws to say it, the look in his eyes make you think dogs and their bones.

You swallow this rancid thing in the back of your throat down. Make a jerking movement with your shoulder—a shrug, maybe. The twitch of your aching cock gives you away.

"C'mon, wannae fuck tha' little pussy o'yers," he rasps, words a tangled growl in the thick of his throat. Accent eliding. Slurring together. "Or ah'll have tae drag ye back tae the bathroom. Fuck ye in the shall. Make yer pussy cum on ma cock—"

You shiver. It's disgust. It's anger. It's—

His hand peels away from your thigh, reaches for your phone. He leans toward, and shoves it into the back of his pocket.

"what ahm I gonnae do tae ye?"

You know what he asking for. Feel the heat smoulder inside of your veins, burning up your neck. Be a man, you think. Be a man. Tell him to fuck off. Punch him. There's nothing soft about you. Nothing delicate. He's crazy. You're not—

His stare is paralyzing. You feel dread thicken in your stomach.

(dread, you think; your cock jerks. The front of your jeans are damp. The sticky drag of them on your groin calls you a liar.)

"Ahm no' askin' again, hen."

Your jaw unlocks easy this time. Opening with a quivering sigh that makes him groan low under his voice, eyes fixed on you. Drilling holes into your head. Needling his warped desire into your mind.

"You're gonna," your voice shakes. Heat sears your skin. It feels you're going to melt. "You're gonna fuck my—my pussy—"

The noise he makes is sinful. Liquid. Rich. A groan that breaks into a thrilling moan. Your stomach knots. Churns. You'd be sick if you had more to drink.

"C'mon—" he jerks his head toward the door, eyes blazing. "Gonnae ye exactly what ye need."

You go. Stand when he does, chin dropping to your chest in humiliation when your cock jerks at the idea. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders, holding it in your trembling fists as it covers your pelvis. The unmistakable need there for everyone to see.

Fuck yer pussy so good, he growls, ripping his wallet open and shoving a fistful of neat, straight notes on the counter. "Ain't gonnae need anythin' else when ahm done wit' ye. Gonnae be beggin' fer my cock inside ye—"

You should run. And when he steps back, motioning for you to move first, it feels like he's giving you the perfect opportunity to escape. To flee. You want to. You should.

But you don't. Something holds you back. Makes your teeth sink into your tongue. Jaw hinging shut. Snuffing out the words rotting in the back of your throat with a swallow.

You follow him quietly as he paws at you, rutting his cock against your thigh, whispering in your ear about all the terrible things he's doing to do. A better, more sensible man would've run, something holds you back.

The same thing that makes you ignore the reason why you haven't asked about his bloodied knuckles or wondered where your date is.

You know the answer already, don't you?

"Ahm gonnae fuck ye so good, hen. Won't be thinkin' about anyone else when ahm done wit' ye—"

It's what you've been looking for since the beginning.

[izels-writing]

r. lupin — flirting

Pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

Summary: in which y/n flirts every chance she gets and remus can’t help but secretly love it

Warnings: suggestive language (it’s a fluff fic tho!), pregnancy (?, just toward the end)

was y/n good at flirting? yes and no. she was horrible at flirting with other people, absolutely horrible. but there was one person that she were somehow amazing at flirting with.

remus lupin.

she wasn't sure why. she figured it was the shyness or the fact that he only really spoke to lily evans or his best friends james potter, sirius black, and peter pettigrew. other people he tended to cut conversations short or he pretended to have to go. he never seemed to fancy being around other people.

that's what made her so interested in him. how couldn't she be?

"come on, y/n! we'll be late!" y/f/n called out, pulling y/n out of the common room and rushing down the corridor. y/n huffed and followed quickly behind her rushed friend.

finally arriving in potions, y/f/n took their seat next to their boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, leaving her to wander over to your usual seat. one she had next to a certain nerdy, quiet yet witty boy. most of the time in potions, she could hear him mutter some smart comment under his breath, making her giggle and earn herself a detention. though he usually muttered a quiet apology and focused on the potion instead of trying to get her out of the detention, she never took offense and shrugged it off. always.

the bell rang, and like clockwork, four boys burst inside. one had black, unruly hair and rectangular glasses. another was handsome with black, long hair and stormy grey eyes. the shortest one was giggling, fixing his uniform on his stubby body. the last, y/n's personal favorite, was a tall and lanky boy who had more scars than bare skin and slightly toned arms.

there were many things no one noticed about remus, things that y/n did. he always wore baggy clothes, but when he brought his sleeves up he had toned and slight muscle to his arms, or how when he stretch his shirt would ride up just enough for her to see the muscle that had likely built up over the years.

"take a seat boys, class is just about the begin..." slughorn sighed, like he did almost every day.

"no problem sluggy." james potter, the quidditch jock of the group, grinned, making his way to sit next to lily evans, his (to her misfortune as she proclaimed falsely) potions partner.

"say, did you do something to your hair today?" sirius asked in fake curiosity, earning a stern nod over to his seat from slughorn. both he and peter walked over to their seats, along with remus, who quickly sat next to y/n.

"hey handsome." y/n winked, smiling teasingly at him. remus gave a small smile back, used to this kind of behavior from her.

"hi y/n." he replied quietly, getting out some of the essentials for today's lesson, which had been written by slughorn on the blackboard.

"today, my bright students, we'll be brewing the draught of peace. a potion you should all be familiar with. it'll take up most of the class time, and afterward, i want you to test them on each other. but only a small dosage, as too much and brewed wrongly can result in a very long and irreversible sleep. the recipe for this commonly used potion is on page 342 of your textbooks. you may begin."

y/n took quick notice to how slughorn sat down at his desk and lied his head down. while she wasn't always observant, it was a little clear that their professor was recovering from a strong hangover.

"don't you just love it when our teacher tasks us with O.W.L potions because he can't handle his liquor." y/n mumbled, turning your page to the one slughorn had mentioned.

"oh definitely...it's right next to when james and sirius drink on a school night." remus replied sarcastically.

she chuckled, "sounds fun."

"very. especially when i wake up to one of them vomiting in the bathroom." remus grinned, walking off to retrieve some ingredients.

y/n watched him grab the things, fighting the urge to think of any flirtatious comments. instead, she placed her cauldron on the table and started reading the instructions.

when he finally returned, they both started on the potion.

"okay, now add the powdered unicorn horn. the right amount, y/n, i would rather not be put in a irreversible sleep because of your antics." remus remarked, watching y/n carefully as she measured out the ingredient.

"gee, you sure have a way with words for such a big..." she glanced down flirtatiously, "mouth. don't worry remus, i can handle such a large task. though i'm sure that's not the only large thing i can handle-"

"y/n!" remus gasped quietly.

y/n acted nonchalant and added the horn, looking over for the next ingredient. stir until red.

"alright now stir." y/n said, nodding at the cauldron. remus nodded and started stiring, making her smirk and watch him. he fought his blush hard under her gaze, but he couldn't help it.

y/n felt giddy every time she could make him blush. it felt accomplishing for some reason.

"am i making you nervous, mr. prefect?" she asked, leaning against the desk with a smirk.

"no, just not used to being stared at creepily." remus retorted, stiring still.

"oh i highly doubt that, such a handsome face and an even better smile, i doubt you don't get stared at." y/n replied. remus rolled his eyes, making her frown momentarily, but nonetheless she regained her confidence as soon as his lip twitched upward.

—

after the two them finished their potion and tested it, and helped mediate a argument between lily and james, class quickly came to an end. the bell rang and slughorn shot up, bringing all of the attention to himself.

"good work today! for homework i want you all to write a small essay on the draught of peace potion and its history, which will be due on friday. have a wonderful night and i'll see you all tomorrow." slughorn said, walking out quickly.

y/n groaned and started shoving her things back into her bag. she wasn't very good at researching, mainly because she always seemed to get distracted on anything else. and there was also the fact that she hated essays in general.

remus looked over at the girl, wondering why exactly she had been groaning. under her breath, he could hear her mumbling about being rubbish at research and essays. he contemplated his next decision for a moment. should he ask her to study? though he didn't admit to it, he quite enjoyed the girls company at times. but did he really want to deal with your obvious flirting for minutes or maybe even hours?

his mind immediately answered yes, even if every time she flirted he struggled to refrain from kissing her right then and there to shut her up. lovingly of course.

"hey, do you want to study with me for this essay?" he asked, making y/n look up quickly. she smiled widely and nodded.

"of course, i'd love to." she replied.

"alright—um, just meet me in the library thursday at three?" he suggested awkwardly. y/n grinned.

"alright, i look forward to our date," she winked and walked off, swinging her bag over her shoulder. remus watched her as she did, smiling subtly at how she'd subconsciously fix her hair or how she'd laugh at whatever y/f/n had just said.

"did you, moonikens, just land yourself a date with someone who has so painfully obvious been into you for some time now?" a teasing voice behind him ask. remus rolled his eyes.

"it's not a date, pads, i'm just helping her study." remus replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder while the pair waited for james and peter.

"well, i can tell you that my study dates don't usually end in just studying," sirius said, nudging remus.

"he means they end in blowjobs." james said bluntly. remus scrunched up his nose, "well, i gathered that much."

"merlin, let's just please get to the kitchens..." peter mumbled.

——

the date had come faster than expected, much faster. so much so, that y/n almost forgot about it. she had so much piled onto herself, with homework assignments.

"y/n, don't you have that date or something?" y/f/n asked, shutting their book and looking up at their friend.

y/n nodded and looked at the clock.

2:55 p.m. it read.

she gasped and shot up, throwing her things inside her bag. bidding a quick goodbye, she ran out of her common room and started toward the stairs.

"watch it!"

"hey!"

"woah!"

y/n could care less how many people she bumped into, she didn't want to be late. lupin likely wouldn't wait for her if she was. once she reached the library, she stumbled through, ignoring madam pinces glare, and ran toward a dirty-blonde haired boy.

throwing herself in the seat in front of him, she took deep breaths, panting quietly.

his watch rang and remus smirked, turning his arm so that she could see it.

3:00 p.m.

"right on time, l/n," he grinned.

"aw, are we back to last name basis again?" y/n mumbled, pouting playfully.

remus rolled his eyes and took out his own materials for their potions essay, making her do the same.

"okay, we could start by using our text books to find the basic information. you don't seem to open yours much," remus said teasingly.

y/n grinned, "why would i, when i have someone so much better to look at in potions?" remus quickly caught on and flushed a light pink, rolling his eyes.

"anyway, we can finish this essay in about an hour and a half i say, sound good?" remus asked, looking up at y/n.

"sounds great, handsome," y/n replied nonchalantly. unbeknownst to her, remus felt a little jittery every time she called him that.

as the hour and a half passed, y/n was surprisingly the first to finish her essay. remus wrote his last sentence as y/n began to fidget in her seat and toss her muggle stress ball into the air and caught it.

"okay! i am done!" remus grinned, quietly shutting his text books and putting away his essay.

"cool, and it's only 4:30," you smirked.

remus leaned back in his chair. "y'know, you didn't have to wait up for me...you'd could've gone..."

y/n shrugged and grinned slyly, "i know, but i wanted to. besides, now that we're both done, we can hang out!"

"no, look," remus shook his head, "i'm a bore and you'd immediately want to leave,"

y/n raised her eyebrow. "sounds like a challenge, what do you got?"

remus chuckled and shrugged. "okay...want to go to the kitchens and make tea and then read?"

y/n thought for a moment. she wasn't one to stay still very well, that much was obviously since she was a young girl. however, doing this with remus didn't sound all too unappealing.

she leaned closer. "can you read to me?"

remus flushed as she grinned at her suggestion, and although it wasn't technically, it felt inherently intimate. she clearly didn't see it this way, so he couldn't either. he smiled warmly at her and nodded.

"yeah, i'll read to you." he smiled.

——

remus's voice was low and calming, and for some reason, felt like music in her ears. y/n laid her head on his lap, looking up at him as he read from the book. he had begun stroking her hair, making this situation even more relaxing.

she sat up for a moment, taking a sip of her tea, handing remus his cup as he asked for it. he paused his reading and smiled at her.

"you sure you're not bored yet?" he asked.

y/n shook her head. "of course not! i'm getting really into the story. mr. darcy is an ass, isn't he?" she took another sip of the tea.

remus nodded and chuckled. "he gets better, i promise."

"he better," y/n said, making a face, "elizabeth needs something better than that,"

"yes, she does," remus agreed. "if anything, you remind me of her,"

y/n grinned and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "do i? does that make you my mr. darcy?"

remus rolled his eyes playfully, pulling her to lay back down on his lap. "you wish...now, let me finish the chapter."

"as you wish, mr. lupin," y/n teased, remus' actions eliciting a laugh from her.

and for a moment as remus read and as y/n listened, y/n wasn't going out of her way to flirt obnoxiously with the boy and remus wasn't going out of his way to reject or wave off her attempts. instead, she listened to his silky voice and entered a relaxing mindset as she closed her eyes. meanwhile, remus glanced down at the girl every so often and couldn't help the ever growing smile on his face.

bonus:

remus lupin closed the book he held quietly, looking down at y/n who's eyes snapped open.

"was that really the end?" she frowned.

"well, there's a sequel, but i figured we should start it tomorrow," remus suggested. "we have that appointment early tomorrow,"

"but! but—it's not even that important? what're they gonna tell me? that the baby is growing hands? thanks, i would hope so!" y/n protested, sitting up with a struggle at the growing stomach she currently had. she wasn't too far along, but that didn't make it any easier to manage.

"these appointments are important, remember what lily told you?" remus lectured. "i promise we can start the sequel tomorrow..."

y/n frowned, pouting. "you're no fun."

remus placed a hand on her stomach, feeling a light kick, making y/n grin slightly. "one of us has to be the bad parent,"

"we both agreed it would be me," y/n reminded.

"we'll see when he's born, mrs. lupin," remus grinned.

y/n smiled warmly. "i suppose we will, mr. lupin."

[jun2u]

                 𝟕 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧.

pairing:  nonidol! choi yeonjun x f. reader.

genre: smut

summary: a party game quickly heats up when sworn frenemy choi yeonjun comes over to join in on the fun and spice things up.

wc: 2,612

warning: frenemies, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, making out, oral (f. receiving), profanity, use of “princess”, a bit of a begging kink somewhat in there ?? MINORS DNI !!

authors note: my first fic on here eeek i’m nervous !! pls enjoy but this is a trial run , pls don’t take it too seriously ... but definitely give a like / reblog if u enjoy !! i’ll be posting more so don’t be shy to follow / send requests !!

“are you guys all ready for seven minutes in heaven ? everyone , find a spot on the floor and get in a circle ! it’s gonna be so fun ! ”

you grin at your best friend’s words , though you feel a tingling rush of nervousness fill your stomach with butterflies. it’s your 21st birthday , and although you’ve always been one to prefer simple , small get togethers , your best friend has different plans. you need to let loose for once , she’d told you weeks prior , when the idea was first proposed. just say yes and i’ll handle the rest. i’ll plan a party you’ll never forget.

just as you’re about to start , the sound of the doorbell has everyone’s head turn curiously towards the door. subconsciously , you do a quick head count - everyone who was invited was here …. right ?

“ mm , i’ll get it. it might be a neighbor complaining about the noise , so i should probably be the one to answer. ” hesitantly dragging yourself to the entrance , you open the door already preparing to apologize. the last thing you expected was to open the door to a familiar face adorning a smug grin.

choi yeonjun. definitely not a friend , and definitely not invited.  you’d known him since middle school , a cocky jock who’s flirtatious nature and relentless teasing hadn’t stopped after graduation. unfortunately for you , mutual friends between the two of you had kept you both in each other’s lives , constantly butting heads. while you spent all your nights in studying for exams , you heard the infamous tales of the male , throwing wild parties and allowing yet another naive girl to fall for his tricks.

“ happy birthday , beautiful. ” he winks at you , and his words break you from your thoughts. subconsciously , your eyes rake down his body , scanning his outfit. wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and jeans , his athletic prowess evident in his figure alone. and of course , that same , stupid grin he always had painted on his face. you’re not proud to admit how long it takes to pull your eyes from him , clearing your throat as you begrudgingly allow space for him to slip through the door.

“ who invited you , anyways ? you weren’t on my invite list , and i think i’d know since it’s my party. ”

“ in case you forgot , we’ve got mutual friends , so i heard from them. but let’s not pretend you’re complaining. you look more than happy to see me , y / n. ” as he slides past you to get in , his chest slides just ever so slightly over yours , and you swear you catch him tug his bottom lip with his teeth. but before you can say much more , the inevitable chaos that comes anytime yeonjun is around begins.

“ yeonjun ! so glad you’re here ! okay quick everyone , sit , sit ! ” while everything in you wants to complain , you decide not to , not wanting to let one man ruin your entire party. so you comply , sitting on the ground with the group. as you do you smell cologne waft down right next to you , and when you look up you see the dreaded male smirking back at you , deciding to take a seat noticeably close to you. his hands , seemingly innocently rested at his side , brush the sides of your thighs , bare right under the place your dress cuts off. goosebumps instantly make their way to your skin , causing you to mentally roll your eyes at yourself.

hell no. the last person that should make you feel any type of way is yeonjun.

“ all right , everyone ready ? who wants to spin fir- ”

“ i’ll do it. ” before there’s time to protest , yeonjun grabs the bottle of soju from across the circle. “ whoever the bottle lands on , is the second person , right ? ” though the question sounds innocent , you spot a devilish light in his eyes , his fingers absentmindedly stroking the top of the bottle. across from you , other girls look with anticipation , no doubt hoping the bottle will land on them. it’s no secret yeonjun had the eyes of numerous girls - hell , he’d been the crush of almost all your friends at one point or another. and yet , you can’t help but hope that it lands anywhere but on -

“ y / n , oooh ! ” commotion is heard around the room as the bottle spins to a stop , the tip pointing so obviously to you it’s nearly comedic. so caught up in your thoughts , you hadn’t even realized you’d be chosen. when you look up , yeonjun teasingly blows you a kiss , though the darker desire in his eyes reveals deeper intentions than he reveals. everything in you tells you to make up an excuse, some reason you have to go or can’t go with him. and yet … looking across at him , stretching as he rises to his feet , shirt slightly rising to give a peek to his toned body … you find your body making it’s way to the vacant guest room before you can think to do otherwise.

when the door closes , however , you try to put up a front , crossing your arms and attempting to look as stern as possible. “ look , don’t think that -  “

“ oh please , can we just cut the bullshit for once , y / n ? ” you’re so used to him talking in riddles that the abrupt bluntness of him catches you off guard , visibly showing shock at his words.

“ i - i don’t think i understand. ”

“ i think you understand perfectly. you think i didn’t have anything to do with that bottle landing on you ? that i wouldn’t do anything in my power to get just a second with you alone , all to myself ? ” as he talks , he steps forward , causing you to step back as well. but before you realize , you trip over the edge of the bed , causing you to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. as you do , his figure comes even closer , looming over you as you take in the sight of his entire body.

you must be mistaken. as annoying as he could be , there was no denying how attractive yeonjun was , and it didn’t make sense for him to be taking an interest in you all of a sudden. after all , you didn’t do much to make yourself very known , whereas it seemed he did just about anything for attention. so … why now ?

“ and don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. your hair … that smile … that dress. ” it looks like he has to physically restrain himself from going further , his eyes taking their time down your body. he crouches down to your level , taking your chin gently in his , though his fidgeting hand seems to be wanting to do much more.

“ yeonjun - i , ” you’re not used to being this flustered , but with him so close , the intoxicating scent of his cologne , his eyes drilled into yours , you find it hard to speak. “ it just - doesn’t make sense. why now ? why , when we can barely stand being in the same room as each other ? ”

“ the only reason i can’t be in a room with you is because i know what i’ll want to do to you if i stay in it. ” and god , when he says that , it’s like you’re actually drawn closer to him by some invisible force. “ i know you feel it too , y/n. you drive me crazy and i fucking love it. i just haven’t gotten you alone to show you just how crazy i can make you. ”

your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in , but before he can get ahead of himself , he stops. “ i know what i want , but i won’t do a thing until you tell me how you feel. we’ve got six minutes , ” he explains , eyes quickly flickering to the clock before returning to your lips. “ and it’s up to you how we’ll spend that time. ”

your brain is racing with thoughts , many of them being images of what could happen should you let lust get in the way of your decision making. you probably shouldn’t though … right ? if the others heard , or worse , having to face the consequences of your actions tomorrow … it all could go so bad.

and yet , all the bad can’t amount to how good you want to feel.

without thinking , your fingernails reach out to grab his neck , pulling him into a kiss filled with passion and anticipation. you hear him hum against your lips , evidently pleased with the choice you’ve decided to make. as if you had been made to go together , your bodies intertwine , years of repressed emotions being released through your bodies. a gentle push from yeonjun sends your back crashing down on the mattress, as the male takes the chance to trap you under his biceps, hooded eyes staring back at you with desire.

“ fuck , y/n. you don’t understand how much i’ve been wanting this. ” even amidst your lust-filled daze, the words fill you with a wave of happiness , not being able to fight back a small smile at the words. “ i just - didn’t know if you did too, but … ”

yeonjun raises himself off of you , causing a groan of frustration to leave you. but he soon returns , sending kisses all the way down you , starting from your lips , to your collarbone , all the way down to the silhouette of your dress.

“ but when i opened the door and saw you - looking like this tonight ? ” on cue, his cool fingertips trace over your inner thigh , causing you to lean into his touch. his stare is so intense you swear his eyes are burning straight through your clothes.  “ well , i knew there was no holding myself back. ”

urgently , his fingers move lower to your inner thigh , their sensiitivity causing a gasp of pleasure to escape you without much restraint. your vocal pleasure clearly satisfies him , as he lets out a low chuckle , but silences you with a quick peck on the lips. “ hey - you don’t want them to hear you , do you ? i need you to keep quiet , princess. ”

princess. you’d never been one for pet names but ironically , coming from his lips , you don’t seem to mind. in fact , you obey him diligently , biting back the feeling of his name threatening to spill out from your lips. as much as he annoyed you , as much as you tried to deny it …. everytime you saw him , warmth spread throughout your entire body. his stupid grin he always had made you think dangerous thoughts you’d never dare admit. and yet , the more he touches you , the more those thoughts threaten to spill out.

“ can i go further ? we don’t have much time , so i need you to let me know. ” you don’t think it’s possible to speak without coming out in a messy collection of rambles , so you merely nod with urgency as you let your fingers trail into his hair. however , you’re sadly mistaken when he stops touching you completely , staring back at you with serious eyes.

“ oh y / n , that wasn’t a request. that was a demand. you need to let me know what you want. ”

“ i - want you to go further ? ” you reply hesitantly , slightly confused by the question. it makes your cheeks warm to admit it so candidly , but right now , your body’s desires were far outweighing the rational side of yourself. but clearly , your answer isn’t enough for him , as he shakes his head with dissatisfaction.

“ no , no , that’s not good enough. princess , i need to know you mean it. i need you to beg for me. ”

you could nearly choke right then and there , as his statement causes your entire body to freeze up. beg ? you can tell he’s already getting off on the idea , his smug grin returning as he cocks an eyebrow , clearly waiting for a response. well … fuck. no matter how embarrasing this might be later , you still let the words flow out , coming out a little more freely than you would have liked.

“ please. i need you to make me feel good , yeonjun , i - i need you so bad. ”

and then , the melodic sound of a low moan comes out his lips , licking his lips as the pleading from you seems to do far more than mere physical touch ever could. but , being a man of his word , he doesn’t hesitate to lean into you , crawling lower and lower until his hooded eyes peer back at you from between your thighs.

“ such a good girl. and only because you asked nicely , i think these have to go. ” with impressive dexterity , his slender fingertips slide over the band of your underwear , impatiently sliding them under your thighs. you’re quick to assist , legs raising , but not before his stronger hand presses both legs firmly to the mattress.

“ i don’t want you to move an inch - i’ve got you right where i want you. ” and before you can protest , the foreign sensation of plump lips connect to your center, tongue trailing down to taste you in your entirety.  he takes you in so expertly it’s like he’s done it countless times before , from below , the wet , filthy sounds of yeonjun consuming you fill your ears , complimented by his groans of satisfaction from under you.

“ you taste so good , y / n. i could do this forever. ” and with the way time slows down , it feels like he is , your mind focused on nothing but the sensation of yeonjun , and yeonjun alone. his tongue , weaving it’s way in and out of you , messily tasting you in your entirety.  just as you get used to the sensation of his tongue , two fingers sliding into your damp entrance with ease make you gasp with unexpected pleasure.

“ you make it so easy for me , ” he growls , increasing speed as he sucks hungrily on your folds. all you can do is whimper in response , leaning deeper , more submissive to his touch than you could have ever imagined. in this moment , he’s in control of all of you , all your sensations in the palm of his hand. watching him , eyes glazed over with the same need as you , you feel energy building up in your core.

“ i - ah ! yeonjun , i think i’m going to - ”

“ do it for me , princess. show me how much you love it. ” he isn’t caught off guard in the slightest - in fact , his pace remains as steady as ever as he talks , looking back up at you between desperate licks to gauge your reaction. he seems to love to be the one in control , doing anything he can to trigger a dramatic reaction from you , to get you to plead for more of him.

his words send you over the edge , and as you let go of any restraint , your body releases with ease , your fingertips gripping the sheets below you. as you ride out your high , he bites his lip , slowly rising until he’s looking down at you , obviously proud of the reaction he’s managed to get out of you. looking into his eyes , all you can do is fall deeper and deeper , helpless within his touch , as you whimper the one word you can muster -

“ yeonjun ! ’

as if to praise you for a job well done , he replies with a heated kiss on the lips , tongue sliding into yours ever so gently. as his body presses against yours , you can feel his desire , hardened against you as his body begs for even more. but just as you open your mouth to beg for him , all of him - you see him lift his phone , just as an alarm goes off , soft words sliding out his mouth like silk.

“ times up , princess. ”

[thefallennightmare]

Hi. I’m back yet again with another Jesse Cash thought. This one I’m not even sorry for. So have a great morning, afternoon, evening where ever you are and I hope this rots your brain as much as it has mine.

18+smut under the cut(dom!jesse, boot riding, oral with male receiving, female orgasm denial).

You stood before Jesse, wearing nothing but his long sleeve tan shirt and a pair of thin white panties. He sat in the lounge chair in the corner of your shared living room, only basked in the lamp behind him; the shade askew.

"What did you say?" Your breath caught in your throat as your heart hammered in your ears.

Jesse, who was dressed in a black long sleeve, black jeans to match, and those boots that always brought one thing to your mind whenever he wore them.

Step on my throat.

"Sweet girl," his deep voice snapped my gaze from those boots to his face. "Get down on your knees and crawl to me."

"Jesse-," you began but a loud snap echoed in the room, him pointing to the floor.

"You want to welcome me back home from tour then get down on your fucking knees and crawl to me," his eyes were dark, even in the low light of the lamp behind him.

Slowly falling to my knees, I began crawling over to my husband, the hardwood floor beneath my hands and knees were cold. Yet you didn't let that deter you from reaching your husband, looking up at him through lashes.

"Did I do good?" Your voice was barley audible.

Jesse's hand caressed your cheek. "So good, sweetheart. You're always my good girl."

His left foot shifted next to you causing your gaze to snap over to the leather boot. Abstinently, you bit your bottom lip but Jesse caught it right away.

"Go ahead, Y/N. Take a seat and ride it. I know you want to," Jesse leaned back in the chair, his curls falling away from his face.

You were quick to shift yourself over his boot, pressing your aching cunt on it. You shivered at how the leather felt against the thin material of your panties.

"Fuck," you moaned when you began moving up and down Jesse's boot.

The hand with the mandala tattoo worked on unbuckling his belt and then the button and zipper of his jeans. As you orgasm built from rubbing your pussy over his boot, you watched through lidded eyes as Jesse pulled his cock out of his red briefs, not missing the slight wet stain on them.

"Are you close?" Jesse asked, noticing your pace became erratic.

You nodded with a breathless yes.

He shifted his foot, almost halting your movements. "Think you can get off touching yourself without me here?"

You blanched. How did he know?

"Oh, sweetheart," Jesse fucked his cock with one hand while the other cupped your cheek. "I walked in and heard those pretty little moans. Why do you think I called you downstairs? You needed to realize I was home and heard everything."

Oh fuck.

Jesse had a very strict rule while he was gone on the road; absolutely no touching yourself.

"So as punishment, you are not allowed to cum," he ordered, moving his foot so you could start your movements on his boot again.

"Jesse," you whined while rubbing your wetness over the leather. "Plese, I'm so close."

With a tight grip on his cock, he forced your head down towards it with his other hand. "Take it all the way down your throat until you're choking on it. If you event think about disobeying me again, I'll make sure you're crying from how I'm fucking your throat."

Your gaze snapped away from his cock up to his eyes. Even in the darkness pooling there, you can see a flicker of light which held his question.

Safe word?

You shook your head before sinking your mouth all the way down on his awaiting cock.

[marchsfreakshow]

Wounds And All [Kit Walker]

Angst. A tiny bit of fluff at the end because I'm a bit softie.

A simple nurse. Just tending to a man's wounds, yet he's as stubborn as he was when he originally came in.

Not proof read because I'm actually in love with this.

Anon request! Ily anon, and I hope you enjoy. 💜 I love kit and I need to write more for him.

No one's perspective

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"Kit Walker? Come in."

He sighed and stood up, stepping into the office. A grumbled, sour look on his face. Kit was fine! He really was! Just a black eye and a cut. Nothing terrible.

"Kit.." A sigh escaped them, seeing the black eye and the cut. "You must stop getting so upset with the guards, you'll practically live here if you aren't careful." The man was dejected when the words left the nurse's lips. Kit was just so, annoyed with these guards. Never leaving him alone! Never just letting him get on with everything.

Yet, he stayed silent. A stubborn man. He was innocent and stubborn. Always this way. Ever since he stepped foot into this asylum. Eyes met eachother, and it just lingered for a second. It was always the nurse who spoke. Never Kit. He couldn't utter a word to them. Grumbling a little 'it's fine.' barely audible. It seemed the floor was the most interesting place for him to stare at.

Picking up a little bit of ice, wrapping a towel around it. "Put it on your eye, keep it there while I sort out this cut of yours." He hesitantly put the ice to his black eye. A little hiss leaving him, the cold going straight to his blood. And an inaudible "fuck" seethed through his lips as his shirt sleeve was pulled up. "Oh...oh kit..this is much more than a cut."

"it's fine!"

"it's not! This is a whole gash!! Close to your arm being fully cut off!" They raised their voice slightly as Kit retorted loudly. He stared up at the nurse with anger and nothing but furrowed eyebrows. "How can you be so naïve to your pains?!"

"Cause it ain't fuckin' important!"

"YES IT IS! YOU ARE HURT KIT." The nurse had the final word, and he shut himself up after that. "Now I'm going to take your shirt off. Don't argue with me." Their tone was harsh, brash, and very annoyed. Clearly, the both of them just wanting this over with. His shirt was removed, and their fingers touched around the wound as gently as possible. Each touch, a sting to the man.

Eventually, the iodine went on. Hiss and seeth...one after the other. "I know, it hurts Kit. I know...just, I'll do this quickly." Their voice was quiet as they worked on cleaning the gash, taking away as much blood as possible. Silence filled the nurses office, only tiny little noises from the both of them breaking the quiet occasionally.

"do ya have to be so slow?"

"yes? A gash this big needs precision, Kit. I can't willy-nilly it all I like. And you can't keep doing this."

An exasperated sigh left Kit, too tired to argue any further. Their eyes met again. Another blow up maybe? Another metaphorical explosion of words jabbed at eachother? "Fine. Just...jesus." oh. A quiet agreement. The nurse nodded and continued their work. Such a big stitch went across most of his arm, and it looked jarring. Too jarring for the inmate to look at.

"Why'd you always do this..?" They looked up, needle in hand, and the other on Kit's arm. But he looked disinterested. Annoyed, bored, tired. More and more of these disheartening feelings bubbling up. "Kit?"

"You know why. I ain't explaining it again." Again with the mumbles! He was louder, could be louder. Anxiety and scared feelings turned into violence and a loud mouth. They knew exactly what the problem was. The real problem. Could they do anything? Not without losing their whole life. "Missin' Alma too much to care."

"Do you believe she's still alive?"

"I know she fucking is! I know what I saw nurse!!"

"Alright! Alright! I was just askin!! You're so stubborn Kit."

Soon enough, a few layers of bandages wrapped around his arm. Pinning it in place. "...I'm just worried Kit.."

"You don't need to be." The both of them, slipping his shirt back on as he placed the ice down on the table of tools next to him. Another little cringe as his arm went through the sleeve. "Fuckin'..." He huffed letting his arm drop onto his lap. Just to save any more pain to his arm, the nurse re did the buttons on the shirt. Their face so close... breathing was starting to get heavy but they ignored it. Kit was an inmate still, and a married man. Potienally.

"y-ya have to do that for me? I got workin hands.."

"yes." They stood up as if nothing had happened and started cleaning away. And Kit took this opportunity to also stand, and start to walk off. But a hitched breath and hand in theirs before he could step out of the office doors. "I'd do more...if I could. You know that right?"

A small smile. Maybe, after a few weeks of being in such a place. His heart, starting to stir in a direction. His thumb gently rubbed over their hand for a second. "...I know." He mentioned, before stepping out of the office, back to that nasty reality of the asylum.

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Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @nahoyasboyfriend / @yandereunsolved @carniv0reev @slutforgarlogan / @slvt4jamesmarch

[disastrouscanasta]

this wip is taking too long, and i’m not sure how outright I can be with the smut on tumblr, so here’s the before-stuff

Once the war was over properly, and men were being sent home to their wives and their children, John was faced with an unfortunate reminder that everything he’d tried so hard to sustain would amount to less and less the further they got from Europe. 

The tenuous convenience of his and Buck’s relationship slipped away quickly, and before he knew it, John was standing at the threshold of their ending.

In the morning, Gale would get on a train and go home to Marge. He’d say his farewells and snuff out the only fire that was keeping John going. Still, John would take it on the chin and shake his hand, standing up beside him on the platform until Gale cut his losses just to board the train.

That night, though, John would be damned if he didn’t at least try to make something of what he’d worked so hard to get to. Through their first years in the war, through all those missions and every goddamn day in Stalag Luft III, they’d stuck together. They’d been more to each other than John thought had ever had with a friend of his, and he knew it was more than Gale had ever had. Yet, as 1945 had shifted through seasons and months of supply drops and general military service, John had rationalised that it would end.

What they’d become to one another was circumstantial. It didn’t matter if John had no one back home, Gale did.

“Have you got a minute?” He asked Gale that night at the local officers club, their shoulders brushed where they stood at the bar counter.

“More than a minute.” Gale said. Hardly, John thought. He’d counted the hours, they had less than ten together.

But work was light, they’d mostly been sitting around waiting for things to do. And when they had a responsibility, nine out of ten times it was paperwork. John was bored, but Gale was the one who’d decided to go home first. I’ll come back, he’d promised. It wasn’t for John, even though that’s who he’d been speaking to. It was for the air force, for their country as a whole. God bless America.

But whatever kept Gale coming back. John doubted they’d continue their… Well, he just doubted they would continue past the war. Tough times and all that, John was good at getting Gale out of his own head every once in a while. 

“Mind calling it a night?” John asked. It earned him an intrigued eyebrow raise followed by the subtle way Gale’s eyes widened when it dawned on him.  John smiled when Gale just nodded quickly.

“Sure.”

John downed his drink, placing the drink down on the counter next to Gale’s— still, unfortunately— alcohol-lacking glass. He still had a flask in his uniform pocket, just in case.

He took Gale by the sleeve after paying for their service with a few bills left on the counter. When they reached the door and a blast of cold air hit them, John felt an inexplicable need to rush settle into his bones. They only had about nine hours left. Maybe just a bit more. In nine hours they could get off, that was sure. Maybe even save some energy for a second go at it.

At their billet, turned on the lights before he pressed his body close to Gale’s, keeping their hips together and bringing up his hands to rest on Gale’s face.

Gale wound his arms around John’s waist. His hands were a steady, grounding weight on John’s hips. He felt the hum of Gale’s voice as he spoke.

“Bed?”

“Wherever.” John huffed. He waited a spare few moments before kissing Gale needily. He tilted his head to deepen it, brushing Gale’s teeth with his tongue.

Gale moved them backwards, guiding John until his legs met the bed frame.

John’s hands fell to Gale’s buttons, undoing them with ease, then he pushed the tunic off of Gale’s shoulders. He moved on quickly to Gale’s tie, then his shirt.

“In a rush?” Gale said against his lips.

Yes, goddammit. “Just in the mood, Buck.”

“We’ve got all night.” Gale said, painfully sweet. The softness in his voice made the hair on the back of John’s neck stand on end. That kindness wasn’t for him, he knew that. But he’d take it. He would take what Gale would give him.

“Whole lot of time.” John said, hardly believing a word. With each erratic, aroused beat of his heart, he felt the ticking of the clock on the mantle. Gale was slipping through his fingers, even while he was a mooring presence against John’s skin. “Come on, just like old times, yeah?”

Old times meant cramped closets in the dark. Muffled breathing as they chased their own orgasms. Those were some of John’s favourite memories, tucked up against Gale’s body as they tried to drown out the world around them. If Gale was there, things didn’t seem quite so bad.

Gale smiled at him now, in the relatively spacious billet. His eyes were lit up by the lamp on the nightstand. A warm, golden glow that reflected on his skin. It sure felt different from any other time, not only for the sand in their hourglass pouring out, but the kindness, the warmth, everything they hadn’t been able to have during the war.

John undid his own tie and started on his own buttons, Gale took over for him, undressing John before leaning in to kiss him. It was soft and slow, close-mouthed and all too serene. John had to remind himself that they were back home, that this wasn’t the war. Gale wouldn’t be by his side anymore, but he’d be out there. He’d be okay.

Gale pushed him back against the bed until John’s back met the mattress. Gale posted his arms next to John’s shoulders, kissing him and pressing their chests together. He reached down to undo John’s belt, slipping his trousers down to palm him through the front of his underwear. John gasped, bucking his hips up against Gale’s hand.

“Don’t.” He said when Gale licked his lips, ducking his head to be level with John’s groin. “Not like that.”

Gale looked up at John, a bemused expression on his face. John cupped Gale’s jaw, bringing Gale’s lips back up to his.

“All the way?” Gale asked when he pulled back, studying John intently.

“Why not?” John said. Anything to move them along. He missed Gale’s touch like a chasm in his chest, and he hadn’t even gone yet.

“Alright.” Gale’s lips dropped to John’s neck. 

[kindersurprisebacterium]

D.I.L.F (Soap/Reader)

CW: Alcohol, Age Gap, Cunilingus, Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Drooling, Dad Soap, Neighbors, Retired AU

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 3.8k

The first time I saw him was during summer. His mirrored sunglasses caught my eye. His hair was cut into a mohawk. Gray streaks speckled his brunette hair and his beard. He sat on his mower. One hand gripped the steering wheel while the other ran through his sweaty hair. 

I was on my deck, skin damp with cool pool water. I swayed my hips as a song came over the speakers. One of my roommates cheered, throwing me another beer. It was a pop song, explicit lyrics booming in my ears. 

“Pass me your keys!” I shouted over the chatter. A pair of keys landed in my hands. A keychain with my college emblem hung alongside the car key. I punctured the aluminum with a firm grip, chuckling as the foaming beverage spilled out. I brought the can to my lips, pulling the tab open to help the liquid down my throat. My roommates cheered me on, pumping their fists in the air as I downed the last bit. 

I could feel the beer dripping down my chest, soaking into my bikini top. I held my hands above my head, swaying them to the beat. With a grunt I squeezed my eyes shut tight. 

The sound of the mower grew louder, pulling my focus away from the warmth in my stomach. It was my neighbor. Mctavish? Something like that. I grinned at the man, waving my hand at him. I watched as he turned his head to me. He smirked and waved back before turning the mower around. 

“Oh my god don’t tell me you’re into DILFs.” My roommate elbowed me. 

“What do you think the ILF stands for, Ally?”

-

The next time I saw him was on my front porch. It was another hot summer day. The air conditioner was blasting on cold, and yet it wasn’t enough to quell the heat. A soft knock at the door caught my attention. I stood up, tugging the hem of my shorts down my thighs. 

He stood on my porch in cargo shorts and a shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of. He wore the same mirrored sunglasses, only taking them off once he saw me. 

“I noticed your lawns a bit o’ergrown. Want me to take care o’ it for you?” He asked. He had a noticeable Scottish accent. It was unusual, exotic even, for suburban America. 

“Oh, that would be amazing! I’m so sorry, we’ve never gotten around to getting a mower.”

“It’s no problem. I’s  gonna do mine anyway. Figured I’d ask ye.” He smiled brightly. I noticed a dimple on his right cheek, just his right. 

“Thank you so much…” I paused, holding my hand out. 

“John,” he reached out and grabbed my hand in a tight grip. “Nice t’meet you.”

I nodded and watched as he turned, hands sliding into his pockets. I shut the door behind him and returned to my spot on the couch, flipping open my textbook. I couldn’t help but raise my gaze as he drove by. He had headphones in his ears. His head nodded along to the beat. As he drove past my view, I dropped my gaze back down to my book, skimming across formulas and diagrams. Every time I heard him coming back, I couldn’t help but look back up at him. I watched as he wiped the sweat from his brow. 

When I brought my eyes back down to the page, I couldn’t remember what I'd just read. Something about velocity. And then he was driving around again. I reread the paragraph, but I couldn’t help but think about the slight glimpse of his stomach I'd gotten when he lifted his shirt to wipe his face. 

It continued like that for nearly an hour before the engine shut off. Another couple minutes and I heard a soft knock at my door. He was brushing through his damp Mohawk when I opened the door. 

“S’all good out there now.” He said with a smile. 

“Thank you, John. What do I owe you?” I pulled my wallet from my pocket and began going through my cash. I only had a handful of fives and ones at this point. 

“Nothing.” He shook his head, eyeing my wallet. 

“Really? Come on, at least let me get you a beer or something. It’s almost a hundred degrees out.” I put my wallet back into my pocket and held the door open a little wider for him. 

“Fine. Just one.” He said with a sigh as he stepped inside. He kicked off his sandals by the front door, glancing around at the posters and paintings adorning the walls. I nodded toward the kitchen, glancing back as he followed me. 

“Nice and cool in here,” he remarked as he took a seat at the counter. 

“I think it’s just scorching outside.” I laughed as I opened up the fridge. I grabbed two cans of Budweiser and set them down on the countertop. He cracked open the tab and brought the can to his lips. 

“Pretty good. Not as good as the stuff we’ve got back home.” He nodded as he took another sip. 

“Scotland, right? What brought you out here?”

He squinted his eyes in a way that told me I overstepped. I silently sipped my drink, scolding myself for being nosy. 

“Came out here with my now ex wife after being discharged.” He explained. “You go to the local college, right?”

“Yep. Bartend on the weekends too.”

He nodded with a hum. His blue eyes settled on me, then back to his can. 

“Thanks for the beer, but I oughta put my mower away.” He stood, tapping the counter with the palm of his hand.

“Yeah of course. Thanks again for mowing.” I followed him to the front door and held it open for him as he slipped into his sandals. 

“I’m having a cookout next weekend. Y’should come. Your roommates too.” He spoke over his shoulder, giving me another glance before walking down my driveway.

-

“Here, try this.” John said, handing me a glass of amber liquid. 

The party had long since cooled down. Red solo cups scattered the lounge chairs, and the smoke from the grill had ceased. 

“What is it?” I asked, bringing the glass to my nose. It smelled strongly of alcohol, with a light scent of almonds. 

“Scotch and amaretto. Real scotch too.” He smirked, taking a seat beside me. I brought the glass to my lips and took a swig. The first thing I noticed was the burning. My face contorted, nose scrunching up as I swallowed. 

“I’m so sorry- I can’t”

Laughter bellowed out of him as he took the glass from me. He took a gulp, quelling his laughter as he drank it down. 

“I’ll work you up t’ it, eventually.”

A silence fell between us as our laughter faded. I watched the fireflies rise in the distance, flashing their yellow lights. The hum of crickets filled my ears. A soft wind washed over the two of us. It was nice and cool on a hot summer night. 

“So those kids,” I started, turning my head to look at him. “They yours?”

He nodded, setting the glass down on the deck. 

“I’ve got 'em weekends. Their mum has ‘em the rest o’the time.”

“They look a lot like you. Especially your-.”

He abruptly leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. A flood of heat washed over my cheeks, and it wasn’t the alcohol. He pulled back, eyes wide and scanning my face for any hint of regret. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

I cut him off with my lips. I ran my fingers through his Mohawk, tugging gently at his hair. His hand went to my hips, gripping tightly. He shifted onto his knees. The glass beside him thudded against his shoes, and then shattered on the ground. 

He pulled away from my lips. A string of saliva connected us, snapping as he moved. 

“Shit!” He groaned, looking back at the shards of glass on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry. Let me just clean this up.” He rose to his feet. 

“Here, why don’t I give you my number. We can pick up where we left off later.” I smiled, holding onto his arm as I stood. 

“Yeah, okay.”

The next day he texted me. 

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

-

He dressed up in a button down and slacks. On his wrist was a silver watch. We ordered cocktails to start. He slowly sipped on his old-fashioned. I held an aviation in my hand. 

“You never told me what y’were studying,” he said, setting his glass down. 

“Cybersecurity” 

“So you’re a smart one, is what you’re sayin’” he smirked. 

He was witty with every response. Always coming up with something to make me laugh, sneaking compliments into his sentences. By the time that we finished our meals, it had felt like time hadn’t passed a minute. 

I placed my card on top of the bill, only to be swatted away. He quickly handed his card off to the server, not even giving me a chance to insist. 

“Put it back,” he said, taking another drink. 

“John, at least let me get the next one,” I sighed, slipping my card back into my wallet. 

“Next one? So you like me then, eh?” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a self-satisfied grin. 

“I thought I made that clear.” 

“You did, just like hearin’ you say ‘t out loud.”

The server had returned with a copy of the check in hand. I watched as John tucked his card away, scribbled a quick signature, and turned to me. 

“Let me take you home.”

We pulled into his garage. He pulled his keys out. The absence of the humming engine was deafening. He slid his hand up to my cheek, cradling my head in his hand. He leaned across the center console and softly pressed his lips to mine. His tongue swiped across my bottom lip, silently urging me to open up. I parted my lips for him, moaning when he slid his tongue into my mouth. 

His other hand went to my thigh. He ran his palm up and down the front of my thigh. Heat bubbled in my stomach when I felt his thumb brush against the hem of my dress, daring to push higher. He pushed the pad of his thumb against my underwear, groaning when he felt the damp material clinging to my core. 

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he muttered against my lips. He pulled away, reaching under the seat and pulling the lever. I whimpered as my seat slid back. He slid into the space under the dash and settled onto his knees. My heart pounded in my ears as I looked down at him. His pupils were blown out with lust and a deep blush had settled on his cheeks. 

He slid his hands up my dress and began pulling my underwear down my hips, tugging roughly until they were down my thighs. I watched as he slid them into his back pocket. And then his eyes were back on my cunt. He hooked his arms around the front of my thighs, pulling me down the seat until I was almost hanging off. He reached for another lever, this time leaning my seat back. 

He pressed soft kisses to my inner thighs. His blue eyes flicked up to me, watching as I squirmed. My hands flew to his hair when he dove in, flicking his tongue against my clit and sucking greedily. 

“John! Johnny! Fuck!” I cried out, looking down at him between my legs. He was staring back up at me, watching every reaction I gave him. 

One of his hands slid up my inner thigh, skimming across my entrance. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, muffling a string of moans rising from my chest. He pulled away with a lewd pop. His fingers slid up my cunt, and then back down to my entrance. He slowly pushed forwards. His tongue worked my clit, flicking wildly as he slid in knuckle deep. 

I gripped the headrest behind me. My eyes stayed fixed on him. Droplets soaked into his beard. He added another finger and began rocking them in and out of me in pace with his tongue. I rocked my hips against his face with a whine. 

“Fuck, just like that,” I gasped, tilting my head back. His fingers sped up. He curled the tips of his fingers upwards. My brows furrowed, lids squeezing shut. I felt my stomach tensing with every thrust of his fingers. I was close. 

He reached up to my chest and pulled the strap of my dress down my shoulder. The seams creaked as he pulled the fabric down my chest. He pinched my nipple between his index and thumb and rolled the bud between his fingers. I whimpered, rutting my hips against his face. 

His lips wrapped around my clit, and he began to suck. My thoughts clouded as I neared my climax. With another twinge of my nipple and press of his fingers I was cumming. I clenched around his fingers as I spewed obscenities. He moaned against my cunt as his fingers pumped me through my orgasm. My thighs clamped around his head, locking him in place. 

As my orgasm passed, I went limp, releasing him from my hold. I laid against the passenger seat, chest heaving as I caught my breath. He slid back into the driver's seat. His hand gently stroked my thigh, soothing my sore muscles. 

“Y’did so good fer me.”

-

A couple days later he wandered into my bar and took a seat in front of me. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked, wiping down a glass with a cloth. 

“Kids with a sitter, figured I’d see how you’re doing.” He said with a smirk. My lips curled up into a smile. I could feel heat rising to my cheeks. 

“I’m off in ten.”

“Enough time for a quick beer. Then I’m taking you home.”

He sat, patiently sipping his beer, watching as I finished washing glasses. A couple patrons shot me glances. By this time it was mostly empty. Just a few stragglers and blues music. 

My coworker nodded to the clock. Eleven on the dot, just in time to punch out. When I walked out from behind the bar, he followed, swinging his arm around my hip. 

We stepped out onto the street. It was quiet. Not a single car passing by. His car was parked by the door. I slid into the passenger seat and watched as he inserted the key. 

“Your roommates home?” He asked as he shifted into drive. 

“No.”

“Perfect.”

We stumbled through the door, lips mashed together in a messy kiss. His hands were on my hips, slipping lower to grab my ass. I kicked my shoes off and pulled away. A deep rosy blush adorned his cheeks. His pupils were dilated, turning his baby blue eyes into dark pools. He followed me up the steps. His hips pressed against my ass. My breath hitched as I felt the indent of his cock nudging against me. 

I slipped into my bedroom and watched as he shut the door. With a click the lock was in place. His hands were back on me in an instant. He began pushing me backward until I felt the mattress hit the back of my knees. He softly pushed my shoulders. My body dropped onto the mattress with a soft thud. 

I moved to lie with my head against the pillows. I watched as he gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He placed his knee on the mattress and slowly shifted his weight onto it. He crawled towards me, hands stroking my outer thighs. His hands skimmed up and under my shirt. Soft fingertips brushed against my ribs. 

He began nudging my shirt over my chest. His eyes locked onto my bare chest. I held my arms over my head, allowing him to slip the fabric off of me. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. It was slow at first, our lips moving against each other. I wound my fingers around strands of his hair, egging him on. 

His lips moved to my jawline and down to my neck. Soft kisses grew into rough licking and sucking. I was sure he’d left marks that would be there tomorrow. Lower and lower he crept, down past my collarbones, to my chest. He took one of my nipples into his mouth and sucked. He toyed with the other, holding it between his thumb and index. My back arched off of the mattress. I tightened my grip on his hair, softly moaning his name. 

He switched to my other nipple. His hands slid down my stomach and to the waistband of my jeans. Pulling back, he slid my jeans down my hips. My body jolted as he yanked the fabric roughly. With a thump the denim fell to the floor. 

His mouth moved to my inner thighs. My breath quickened as memories of last time flooded my mind. Only this time it was his thumb. He rubbed the pad of his thumb around my clit in tight circles. His canines sunk into my inner thigh. I whined, hips jolting as the pain and pleasure ignited a fire in my core. 

He slid two fingers inside me and began gently pumping them in and out of me. I slowly rocked my hips against his hand, angling his fingers deeper inside me. My stomach tensed. I could feel the need growing deeper inside me. Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to spill over. His fingers were delicious, perfect, but I needed more. 

“Johnny, I need you inside of me.”

His eyes widened. He began swiftly undoing his belt, tossing it aside to work on his jeans. I sat back and watched as he slid them down his thighs. His cock sprang free, hard and leaking. He was thick. The head of his cock was a deep shade of red. 

He stepped out of his jeans and brought his hands to my legs. My heart began pounding in my ears as he pushed my knees towards my chest. I hooked my arms around the underside of my knees, keeping myself still for him. He guided the head of his cock toward my entrance with his fingers. I couldn’t help the whimper that fell from my tongue when the head of his cock bumped against my clit. He gave another quick thrust against my cunt before slipping in. 

My eyes fluttered closed as he slowly sank inside me. The air in my lungs left in one abrupt sigh. It felt as if he’d knocked the wind out of me. He kept pushing forwards, groaning as he slipped in inch by inch. He paused as he bottomed out. We sat in silence, our chests heaving with heavy breaths. 

“Please tell me you’re on the pill,” he grunted. 

“I am, please move,” I whined, grabbing his bicep. 

“Such a sweet one, aren’t you?” His hips pulled back. My brows furrowed as he sank back into me. 

His pace was rough, deep, and slow. He took his time feeling every inch of me. I could feel the head of his cock thrusting deep inside of me, just behind my navel. 

The sounds he made were sweet. Breathy grunts and moans, like music to my ears. He kept a firm grip on my hip, keeping me still as he fucked into me. His nails dug into my skin. The pain was heavenly, only adding to the feeling of his cock working inside me. 

His thumb went to my clit, rubbing tight circles. I began squirming, toes curling as he brought me close to climax. My jaw went slack as a string of crescendoing moans slipped from me. 

“Fuckin’ adorable when you squirm like that. You gonna cum, baby?” His blue eyes were fixed on my trembling form, taking in every inch of my pleasure-wrecked body. 

“Close!” I cried as my hips jerked. 

“Come on, wanna feel you milk me.”

The filthy words that he spoke next to my ear pushed me over the edge. My back arched off of the bed. The grip I held on his bicep grew to a bruising tightness. My hold on my legs slipped. I began kicking my legs, my thighs quivering as he worked me through my orgasm. 

“That’s it, squeeze my cock,” he moaned, smacking my cunt with the palm of his hand. I squealed, clawing up his back as a second wave of pleasure washed over me. 

“So fuckin’ good for me, aren’t’cha?”

He turned me over onto my stomach. I winced at the bruising grip he held on my hips as he slid back in. I pushed my face into the pillow, choking out a sob. I was still so sensitive from my last orgasm. My clit was throbbing, thighs sore and spent from the last position. 

“Come on, keep goin’ for me,” he grunted, speeding up the pace. 

The thoughts in my head grew hazy. My eyes became half lidded. Drool pooled from the corner of my mouth, staining my pillows with a dark spot. 

“Fuck! Just like that!” I cried as I tilted my head to the side. 

He gathered my hair into a ponytail and pulled, lifting my head off of the pillows. 

“Tell me you love this cock,” he growled, thrusting roughly. The front of his thighs slapped against my ass. A lewd clapping noise filled the room. 

“I luh-ohve your cock!” I choked on my spit. 

“Fucki’mgonnacum,” he slurred, smacking my ass with his palm. 

My head dropped back into the pillows, muffling my cries as I came again. My feet flexed, toes curling as the pleasure jolted through my body like lightning. 

He grunted from behind me. His thrusts grew erratic and then stopped. Warmth flooded my insides, spilling out and down my thighs. He stroked my back with his hands, sliding up and down my sweaty skin. 

With a wet pop, he pulled out and laid beside me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and tugged me back into his chest. His fingers danced across any inch of skin they could find. My thighs, my ribs, my stomach. 

“That wasn’t too much?” He asked, pressing kisses to the back of my neck. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had sex that good,” I said with a laugh. I placed my hand over his, holding it still over my stomach. 

“It’s about experience,” he mumbled, brushing the sticky strands of hair out of my face

“Guess I understand the whole DILF thing now.”

[forest-hashira]

A Little Swing

heeellllloooooo everyone! i'm back with another demon slayer fic for y'all, this time as yet another entry for @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab! i can't even definitively say this is my last entry bc my brain is still cooking up ideas whoops. make sure to check out that masterlist to see everyone else's entries, and to find my first two entries there as well (one for gojo, one for geto)!

also, i'm apparently making a game of it now, not writing more than one thing for any demon slayer character. i've got 3/9 hashira so far, who's next? kidding, kidding.... unless?

read on ao3 here | wc: ~1k | cw: gender neutral reader, reader is described as pretty & wears a dress, brief mentions/consumption of alcohol, the whole polycule is here but no names are exchanged

Parties weren’t really your scene, especially parties as big as this one; they never had been. But you always said yes when one friend or another asked you to go with them, insisting that you’d find someone to dance and have a good time with. You always hoped they were right, but so far that had never been the case. 

And now here you were, tucked into the corner of the bar, having long since lost track of your friends. The music from the live band was loud, far louder than you’d expected, so little effort was made to communicate with anyone but the bartender. So you stood there, leaning against the bar, sipping your gin and tonic, watching the rest of the partygoers dance and laugh and spill their drinks on one another. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone making their way towards you, and when you turned you were more than a little surprised to see a young woman, probably about your age. 

“Hi,” she greeted, a small smile on her lips. “I saw you over here all by yourself, and thought you looked kinda lonely, so I wanted to invite you to come dance with me and my friends. We all think you’re really pretty.”

You blinked in surprise at her words, not having expected her to be so forward. As you considered her offer, you took a moment to look her over: she wasn’t very tall, but she wasn’t particularly short, either, with dark hair a little past her shoulders and light colored eyes – maybe grey? It was hard to tell in the dim lighting by the bar. The dress she wore was blue, and even for a flapper style dress it seemed a little short to you, the neckline cut a little lower than most people wore, but it suited her well.

“Who are your friends?”

The girl glanced over her shoulder for a moment, then turned back to you. “The tall man with the white hair, and the two girls in dresses like mine.” She pointed in their direction, though really she didn’t need to; the three of them were impossible to miss.

The man in the group was a giant. You could tell he was well over six feet tall, even from this distance, and his broad shoulders filled out his shirt almost too well, especially since his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms; every part of him was large, apparently, though you shoved that thought aside as quickly as it entered your mind, not wanting to allow yourself to drift down… less appropriate avenues. 

Before you were able to pull your eyes off the man, he caught you staring, and he grinned, shooting you a wink that had your face heating with surprise and embarrassment. Deciding that was your cue to look over the other two women, you quickly averted your gaze. The women appeared to be about the same height as the one who had approached you, with similarly dark hair, though one of them had striking yellow bangs that framed her face, and the other wore a high ponytail with hair that still reached the middle of her back. Their dresses matched, as well, both in the same style as the first woman; the one with yellow bangs wore red, the one with the ponytail wore purple. Even with the unreliable lighting in the room, you could tell they were beautiful.

“You know what?” you said, half to yourself, half to the woman still waiting for an answer. Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you set your glass back down on the bar with a small grin. “Yeah. Let’s go dance.”

Her eyes lit up at your words, and she was quick to grab your hand and pull you back to the dancefloor with her; you couldn’t help but laugh softly at her eagerness, and you hurried to keep up with her.

Pushing through the other partygoers proved easier than you expected, and it wasn’t long at all until you’d reached the rest of the group.

“Hi!” the woman in the red dress enthused, her cheeks flushed, though whether that was from exertion from dancing or from drinking, you couldn’t tell.

“You look really good in that dress!” added the woman in the purple dress, having to shout a little to be heard over the music and laughter.

“Thanks!” you replied with a grin, giving a little twirl to show off the full thing. It was a relatively simple piece, a deep green that accentuated the shape of your body in a very flattering way. The most interesting thing about the dress is the fact that it sparkles, light glinting off the material with every twist and turn you make as you settle into the rhythm of the music with your new companions.

“Glad you could join us!”

The sound of the man’s voice has you turning to face him; it’s a little higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his stature, but it suits him.

“I don’t usually get asked to dance with such good looking people!” Maybe the drink was making you braver than usual, or maybe you were just tired of being a wallflower at all the parties you got dragged to by friends who would eventually abandon you. Either way, you were ready to cut loose and enjoy yourself for once. 

“Hard not to want someone as flashy as you by our sides!” He winked at you again, his platinum hair and magenta eyes practically glowing in the colorful flashes of light that engulfed the dance floor. 

A pleasant warmth filled your chest at his words, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Conversation between the four of you was practically nonexistent after that, the music washing over you as you twisted and swayed spun to the beat, laughing so hard your ribs ached and the muscles in your cheeks hurt. 

For once, your friend had been right: you had found someone to dance and have a good time with.

feels a little weird posting something so short (especially since it took me so long to actually finish, rip) but hey! there's a first time for everything, lol. also ty leigh for looking this over for me!!! i hope you guys all enjoyed this little bite of sparkle daddy and Vibes 💜

tagging: @kentopedia @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @witchbybirth @marinnnnnnnnn @peachdues @ghost-1-y

divider by adornedwithlight

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Push and Pull

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: The first year is just about over and you and Aaron have somehow gotten into yet another argument. Can the two of you fix it? And even if you can, is it even worth it?

Word count: 4k

Warnings: angst, toxic young ‘relationship’, drinking

—

“So, what happened this time?”

This question lingers in the air like thick smoke, heavy and dark. You’re sitting on your bed criss-cross and Bella is sitting the same way, right in front of you. You’re trying to find the words to explain what happened about an hour ago, but you can’t find them.

“He just- no, it was my- god, I don’t even know,” you choke out as your face falls into the palms of your hands and the tears begin, “It’s just so stupid. I’m stupid.”

“Oh baby, come here,” Bella sighs as she pulls your shoulders so the top of your head leans against her chest, and she just hugs your upper body as much as she can. The two of you stay like that for a moment, until you pull yourself together and are able to form complete sentences without crying or breaking down once more.

“Ready to try again?” She asks as she carefully lets your trembling body lean back to where you were.

You wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt and nod your head, still with glossy eyes, and look into her beautiful hazel irises, relaxing a bit. You take one more deep breath so you can put the pieces of the puzzle back together mentally before you try to verbally.

“Okay, umm. So ya’ know Tiffany right?”

“The frat whore?” she asks, “Yeah, I do.”

You chuckle, “So, at Jackson’s party earlier I saw her ‘n Aaron talking. But she was like all up on him, whispering into his ear constantly ‘n he would look at me ‘n then back to her. ‘N he just, like, had this glare in his eye. It really hurt me cause everyone knows about him ‘n I! Like, okay, yes, we’re off right now but that doesn’t make it fine to do that. Especially when I’m in the eyesight of both of them.”

“So what did you do?” Bella asks with furrowed brows, “Cause I know you didn’t just let that slide.”

Before you answer her with the embarrassing truth, your hands are fidgeting with the laces of your Nike Air Forces. You find it heartening and funny that she knows you so well, because she’s right - there’s no way you would let anything like that slide, especially when it came to Aaron.

“Well, I uh- went up to them ‘n started to argue with Tiffany. Saying shit like; why are you on him, you’re a whore anyway, he wouldn’t want anything you have to offer, bitch. Then she started to get loud back ‘n all in my face, which- I was fine with, until she then digs her finger into my chest. ‘N that’s when I just lost it.”

“She really did that? Her dumbass thought that was a good idea, are you kidding me?”

“Seriously! ‘N that’s funny you say that, just gimmie a second to get there, okay?” You laugh to yourself and, before you continue your story, you snag the fifth of Fireball that’s on the bedside table and take a shot. No chaser. You’ve become quite good at being able to drink since you’ve been at Washington College, a perk of being here.

Then, handing the bottle to Bella, she too takes a swig of the liquor that’s now about half way gone. She hands it back to you, ugh, man, she groans and you just let the fifth sit in between your legs as you begin to continue the events of tonight.

“So that’s when I swung my fist back ‘n punched her dead in her face-“

“Tiffany?!”

“Yes, Tiffany. Right square in her nose, ‘n the bitch fell right to the floor. Just like that,” you clap your hands right as you say that, to really showcase how quickly and hard she fell.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Bella chokes on her spit for a second.

“Bitch yes! Like a fuckin dead tree, just pin straight down to the ground. That’s when I stood over her ‘n said, stay the hell away from Hotch. But before I could gloat anymore, Aaron bear hugged me from behind ‘n picked me up. So I’m trying to squirm ‘n kick my legs out of his grip, but ya’ know, that wasn’t happenin’. The whole living room of people is just buzzing with laughs ‘n ouhhhh’s while he carries me out the front door and into the dead end cul de sac ‘n sets me down.”

You stop blabbering and take another shot of the whiskey, bigger than the last one. Ugh, shit, you groan and wince at the burning feeling in your throat. Good one, huh? Bella giggles as she reaches out to your hand where you’re handing her the bottle again.

“Shut up,” you drunkenly laugh, the whiskey definitely affecting you now, “But back to what I was sayin’. Uh, he set me on my feet ‘n spun me around to face him. His face was stern, like he does when he’s pissed, you know the look.” You stop your rambling to mimic Aaron’s stern face, dramatically furrowing your brows and sealing your lips into a hard line.

“Oh my god, yes,” Bella bursts out laughing at your overly dramatic face; even though it’s somewhat accurate, “You’ve gotten so good at that. Fuck, girl.” Since he is seven years older than you, he does have some more aged features on him than most - which you really don’t mind, you actually love his older features and vibe.

“Thank you, thank you,” laughing as you act out putting a crown on your head, “Anyways- my adrenaline was still on a hundred from frat-whore Tiffany, so I’m quick to start yellin’ at him. ‘N if I’m completely honest, I don’t even remember what I said entirely cause he was quick to shut me up. Here, let me just show you-”

You spring up to your feet so you can reenact how Aaron acted to you tonight. “Gettin’ a full show, I guess,” Bella announces as she watches your wobbly movements.

“Yep. So he interrupts my word salad by shouting my name, which worked really well actually. Then he follows up with,” you clear your throat and start to impersonate his voice, but with a bit of an exaggerated tone to it.

“You really think it’s okay for you to act like that? You’re such a child. I can’t believe you actually thought I would get with Tiffany anyways.” You switch back to your voice, “then I stopped him ‘n said, so then why were you lettin her be all up on you and whispering’ in your ear?” Back to his voice, “Are you kidding me? She’s my partner in Behavior Analytics, and it’s loud inside there. Okay, yeah - maybe I let her too close, but what is it to you anyway? We’re not even together right now.”

“He said that? No fuckin’ way,” Bella starts as her jaw slacks open from pure shock at what you just told her, “He’s got some damn nerve.”

“Thank you! God, I- I was so confused ‘n clearly not thinking straight because,” you take a second before you answer, “cause, I slapped the shit outta him.” Before the words leave your lips, you wince from the embarrassment of your actions.

Bella looks at you dumbfounded, and all she does is hand you the fifth of whiskey for you to drink. Thanks, you chuckle and without any hesitation take it, along with another shot, the bottle now only having about one shot left. After taking the shot, you start to feel dizzy so you go back to the bed and plop down in the same position before you stood up. You start to hand the fifth to Bella, “No, baby that’s all you, you need it more than I do right now.”

You just shake your head and the events of tonight just replay over and over as you take the last swig of the Fireball. Which you do not need.

Bella waits a second for you to recoup yourself before she asks the question, “So what did he do after you slapped him?”

You smile, but not because you’re happy, it’s because you’re sad and scared, and just in pure disbelief - he’s never done this before, you might have lost him for good.

Screwing the red cap onto the bottle and raising your eyes across the dorm to the trash can by the door, you chuck it past Bella’s head and it sinks right into the black can. Hell yeah. She turns her head back to face you and chuckles as she raises her right hand for a high five.

But the little burst of joy will quickly fade.

“He just turned around ‘n just left me in the street ‘n walked back into Jackson’s house to continue partying or god knows what.”

Wow, is all that Bella says as her face is covered with a shocked expression, much like yours was earlier in the evening. Yeah, just- yeah, you reply to her as you fall back and let your head sink into your pillow and your arms lay across your eyes to make sure tears don’t escape. Silence fills the dorm room, besides the busy street noise and people partying that echoed through the open window behind you.

You feel the mattress sink next to you and Bella’s arms wrapping around your waist, her face burrowing into your neck as she whispers, “Fuck him.” You take your arms off of your face and turn to look at her, you both start giggling like little girls at a sleepover talking about boys - not too different from what you’re doing.

—

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE-

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” You groan, raising your closest hand and hitting the alarm clock like you’ve done every morning for the past eight, nine months. Thankfully, you only have one more week of the obnoxious torture device that is your alarm clock, and then it’s summer break.

But before you can even think of that, you have to face today. God, you feel like shit. Your head pounds over and over, concentrated right behind your eyes. You roll over on your belly and smush your face into the plush pillow, why did I have to get that drunk? You can tell today is just going to be perfect, just perfect. Maybe a fake smile in the mirror will make you believe it.

After about five minutes of cursing to yourself into your pillow, you gather the minimal strength you have and push yourself off the mattress. Making yourself get ready for a chilly spring Monday worth of lectures, along with facing Aaron after last night. Slipping on one of his Nike hoodies, that just goes past your ass and is overall large on you, with a pair of black leggings, and of course - your black and white forces. Simple yet cute.

Still hungover like someone who’s never drank before, you do a little bit of mascara and put your hair up and out of the way. Just so you don’t look completely fucked up, and so Aaron doesn’t think that he messed with your head completely. You and him have been together but not at the same time, pretty much since this past October.

The two of you would be on good terms for a week or two and then he either did something to piss you off for fun, but you would then take it too far by arguing with him about it. Or it would be all over a dumb thing that he would do, like going out and not coming back around you for a night or two. He wouldn’t try to contact you in any way, to even just inform you that he was safe or when he’d be back, and it worried you when he did that. But when you voiced how you didn’t like it, he’d completely dismiss you - resulting in another argument and break up, repeating the cycle again.

Aaron is the one who calls it off, every time. He won’t talk or contact you, in which you do the same - out of spite. But usually after about three or four days, one of you breaks the no contact - usually for sex.

There was just something about Aaron that you couldn’t leave alone, and there was just something about you, that he couldn’t leave alone either.

And it’s been the same cycle. Over and over. But in all seriousness, you don’t mind it because right now this is all fun and games. You really believe that whatever this thing is between you and Aaron, will end either this summer or when you graduate. If you keep telling yourself that you’re okay with this, you’ll eventually believe it, right?

With your mind trying to think and the throbbing headache behind your eyes, it’s all too much. You pause your movements and take a deep breath, eyeing the table you see a bottle of Tylenol that Bella must’ve needed also on that table. You take two of them followed by your water from your water bottle, then snag an apple from the counter.

You go back to putting your textbook and notebook in your bag and you quickly glance over to the clock one more time, 9:28AM.

“Fuck, just- ugh,” You grumble as you bolt towards the door, slamming it behind you, and jogging down the hallway that’s scattered with students here and there. This would be the day I’m late.

The door to Dr. Miller’s room is now in front of you, before you open it you regulate your breathing so you’re not out of breath when you walk in.

Alright- three, two, one- you pull the glass door and gently close it behind your body, so it doesn’t slam. You instantly spot Dr. Miller slightly leaned and sat on his wide oak desk, with his arms folded in front of his chest. He turns his head in your direction, but is still talking to the class.

“…546 through 576 are the pages we’ll be goin’ over…”

This man creates feelings in you that you don’t know how to place, but you can’t do anything about it, so you just observe him and take in what you can.

His brown hair with streaks of silver is slicked loosely back and the curls are almost perfect, his round wired glasses sit on his nose. The dark blue button up he has on extenuates his bulky arms and chest, which has you feeling light and bubbly. Hangover gone for a split second.

You nod your head and he returns the gesture, then faces the rest of the class, continuing his lecture about today's reading.

“…by Wednesday, end of class. I want a three page overview of how brains can alter after a traumatic event…”

As you walk up the steps on the side, Dr. Miller’s voice drops from your ears. Or, a slight ringing sort of takes over your hearing and, for some odd reason, you’re worried sick about how he’s going to be.

Reaching the section, after what feels like climbing a mountain, you look down the row where you and Aaron usually sit, seeing him sitting by himself with his head down. Weird. When you slowly walk over to him, you squat down, balancing yourself with one hand on the back of the chair and whisper, “Is this seat taken?”

Aaron lifts his head and you can tell that he is just as hungover as you, if not more. His jet black hair, usually combed back, is fluffy and messy. His amber colored eyes have a red glossy tint over them as he gazes down at you with melancholy eyes. But when he realizes that it’s you and you’re not upset, a warm relaxed smile growing on his tired face.

“Not at all, love.”

—

“Are you gonna come in?” You question Aaron as you stand inside your dorm and he lingers in the doorway. The two of you had sat silently during class, then made a deal to talk about things back at your dorm after the day was done, going your separate ways for the rest of your schedule. It’s now just after two in the afternoon, but you feel like it could be time for you to go to bed, clearly what your body craves.

Between the lingering headache, body aches, and the slight rumbling of your stomach from this awful hangover you’re still somewhat going through, the amount of stress you’re under from the tedious school work between three classes, to the situation in front of you - all you want to do is sleep.

“Yeah, I just want to-”

“Hotch. Stop. Come in ‘n we’ll talk.”

He’s silent as he listens to you and hesitantly steps into the room, leaning his back against the door as it closes. You don’t call him Hotch unless you really need him to listen to you, usually reserved for fights.

You turn around and walk over to your mattress, kicking your shoes off and letting your backpack slide off of your shoulder on the floor next to your bed. Then you crawl on your bed and sit criss cross, like you did last night with Bella.

Gazing up at Aaron, he’s still leaning against the door, arms crossed while staring at you and your movements with his soft eyes. Even though he looks exhausted, he still looks handsome. Finally taking in the image of him, now across the warmly lit dorm room - you smile.

His light gray hoodie is loose around his torso but tight around his arms and his dark blue jeans grip his thighs. His face is soft but with some stubble starting to grow along his jaw and cheeks. His small pink mole on his right cheek, parallel with his nostril, fits perfectly with his soft lines around his eyes and brows are starting to appear, which you know he hates but you couldn’t think of him without them. His jet black strands of hair are a bit more put together, more than this morning anyways. God.

Your heart flutters at the pure sight of him. You can’t stay mad at him, it’s simply impossible.

C’mere baby, you whisper as you pat your hands on the spot in front of you on the mattress. Aaron doesn’t say anything, but starts to move. You observe the way the corners of his lips curve up just a bit, as he slides his white Nikes off and sets his black Jansport bag on the table next to the cherry red telephone.

He runs his fingers through his hair as he carefully steps to you and sits on the bed with only about a foot between you and him, his right leg is folded in front of him, while the lower half of his left hangs off of the mattress. His large hands are resting in his lap and all of his attention is on you, without saying anything - he’s saying so much.

“About last night-“

“Don’t. This is on me.” Aarons deep voice cuts you off.

You stay quiet. You want to hear what he has to say before you make a fool out of yourself for possibly saying the wrong thing. But before he can say anymore, you get this sudden pressure in your lower back that causes you to become distracted. Ouh fuck, you wince as your hands move to lightly massage your lower back.

“You alright?” Aaron’s tone raises just a bit.

“Yeah, it’s just,” you straighten your back and keep your hands on your lower back, “Sittin’ in those shitty chairs ‘n walkin’ across campus. You’d think I’d be used to it by now - apparently not.”

Aaron nods his head and chuckles under his breath, but before he can start another sentence, you maneuver your body to relieve some of that pain. Laying back just enough so your back is supported by the pillows beneath you, and your shoulder blades are supported by the wall behind you. Your hands intertwine with each other and rest on your stomach that lowers and rises with each breath.

Your legs are the next thing to move. You shift them from the criss cross position and stretch either one on the outside of Aaron’s body. But your right calf ends up laying on his thigh, whereas your left rests on the mattress, grazing his knee.

Aaron cocks his head and a soft smile takes over the sincere expression he had a second ago, as he watches you relax. His left hand leaves his lap and moves to your calf, where he starts to run his thick fingers up and down your legging covered skin. The corner of your lips lift just a bit when you notice the hungry look that’s in his eyes, as he gazes at yours.

His jaw clenches, then softens - like he’s trying to control himself from having you here and now. The sight of you laid out in front of him, in his hoodie and your leggings that hug your legs perfectly, has him drooling. But he knows he can’t, that would just be stupid right now.

A second of silence goes by before Aaron clears his throat and begins the conversation that seems so familiar and yet, so different.

“Honey, I’m sorry for how last night went. I shouldn’t have left you in the street like that. For all I know, you could’ve gotten kidnapped or god knows what. I really don’t like how I acted.”

You nod and whisper, thank you. The air in the dorm has become a much lighter feeling than even a few seconds ago. You don’t feel like he’s gonna try to make a break for it and stay away from you forever. You really thought you lost him because of your actions.

“And please really listen to this,” he starts, but both his hands move from their original spots and find new ones on either one of your thighs; his thick fingers dig into your legs. Your heart flutters and your pussy throbs from the sudden familiar touch. “I really regret messin’ around with Tiffany. I was doing it to strike a nerve- which clearly did, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. No excuse. And I don’t want to hear an apology from you, cause if you had acted like me- I would’ve done the same thing baby. I really would.”

That was an apology. He just made the perfect apology; you thought it was impossible. You feel this heavy weight that’s been lifted off of your shoulders and mind, after hearing his smooth deep voice relay those words.

However, at the same time- you're filled with this sense of dread. You’ve heard the sorry’s before from him. First time after catching him flirting around with your Bio Lab partner, the second time after he and his guy friends left town for winter break without telling you anything. Scaring you to death, thinking something terrible happened to him - then come to find out his boys thought it was funny and Aaron just let them joke around. But he never laughed about it.

Then the most recent, last night; you don’t like how normal this is becoming. Each one slowly progresses into something more severe than the last; not a good sign. An acidic feeling slowly climbs from your stomach, to your throat and creates this burning in the back of your mouth. Your mind is jumping around to try to make sense of how this is going to end or even, hell, how it even got started.

This is not healthy.