#you do not know the way i gasped the first time he appeared

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 ꕥ MAX VERSTAPPEN

summary. celebrating max’s 4th title was not in your plans.

warnings. piastri!reader, max is kinda obsessed with reader, public s3x (?), unprotected pinv, fingering, just straight up dirty.

gabri speaks! i’ve been thinking about mexico gp max and las vegas sealed the deal for me.

THERE’S A BRIEF moment of silence, of anticipation, and of complete confusion. The DJ had paused the setlist less than an hour in announcing there was a special guest appearance. Then as if on cue tonight’s race is plastered on the giant screen behind him and the words, “Max Verstappen,” echo throughout the nightclub. You resist the urge to roll your eyes knowing someone might be recording you, or your brother at least.

“I thought he was flying back?” You cover your mouth with your hand as you talk with your brother.

“I thought so too.” Your brother hums in your ear trying to hide his annoyed tone. Your brother got along with Max just fine but all he wanted was one night without F1 getting mentioned.

You on the other hand…

You’d only been in the paddock a handful of times but every race weekend you had managed to have the worst encounter with the dutch man. The first time had been incidentally, you faintly recall the energy drink splashing all over your new dress. You knew from the get go that it had been an accident but when Max didn’t as so much as a muster a quick sorry and instead went on his way you had no choice but to hate him.

“He’s such a dick.” You murmur to yourself unaware your brother catches your words.

“Be nice.” Oscar motions towards the countless people recording him.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You sigh.

The music resumes and you find yourself into a crowd of dancing couples. Your short orange dress sticks to you as you walk towards the bar. It’d been a long night with your brother not getting the result he hoped for. The post race recap inside the garage had been brutal as well. You had watched as the championship slipped from Lando’s hands and Max claimed victory once again. It had been the worst two hours of your life to say the least. You’re way too frustrated to even notice the man approaching you. In a split second you’re covered in something that smelled similar to…

“Asshole.” You mumble.

“Mini Piastri?” He gasps dramatically. “Why are you here? I wouldn’t think you’d be celebrating after tonight.”

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” You scoff. “Does it Max?”

“I’d argue that it does actually. Considering your mood, you’d be happier if your little boyfriend had actually managed to have a good race.” He taunts you.

“Look, can you get out of my way? I have to go clean up the mess you made.” You point towards the huge spots of alcohol on your dress.

You don’t even wait for him to respond before pushing past him, brushing shoulders in the process, to head straight to the bathroom. You do your best to dodge those who already have had a bit too much to drink, unaware that the dutchman is right behind you. It’s not until you’re opening the door and notice it takes a minute too long to close that you turn around and spot him. His white dress shirt is already half unbuttoned while his hair is a mess. You stare at him incredulously as he leaned against the sink.

“Max, you can’t be in here.” You state bluntly.

“I don’t recall you telling Lando to piss off when he followed you into the bathroom in Austin.” He counters.

“How do- What?” You’re taken aback by his words. How did he know?

He ignores your question choosing to walk towards you instead. You’re now face to face with the man that had taken away your team’s championship. His eye bags are dark and you can tell it’s been a while since he’s gotten a good needed break. His tousled hair falls perfectly on his head and by the way his arms flex you can tell he’s been putting extra effort into them at the gym. All of a sudden you’re nervous to be under his glare.

“Does your brother know what you and Lando do in secret?” He questions.

“You should leave.” You try to sound confident but your faltering voice exposes you.

Max just smirks at your words knowing he was getting under your skin. He still recalls the first time he ran into you, when he spilled half a can of red bull on you. He doesn’t know why he didn’t apologize but when he saw the anger in your face he realized why. You had looked so beautiful that day with the short orange sundress that did nothing to hide your cleavage. He still remembers the disappointment he felt when he saw you and Lando walk out of the restroom all disheveled. So, when he beat Lando tonight he felt absolutely no remorse.

His lips ghost yours for what feels like an eternity. You’re frozen in place wondering how his lips would taste against yours. Maybe it was the alcohol or the way his arms flex around you but suddenly you needed to know what he felt like. His arm tentatively grazes yours as it sneaks down to your knees. A gasp finds itself leaving your lips as your legs spread open instinctively. He wants to make fun of you, of the way you melt under him so easily, but he knows better. He can’t risk ruining the moment. It’s when Max inches his fingers closer to your thighs that you suddenly realize what’s happening. In a matter of seconds you push him off you and head out the door.

You’re barely four steps out when Max yanks you back and you hit his built chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate and grabs your jaw pulling your face towards his. Your lips meet in a heated kiss as his arms find their way around your waist. This time you’re the one that moves his hands from your wait to your ass. The confidence was beginning to build up and soon enough you’re tugging on his hair as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Max…” You moan and somehow it becomes the indicator that you want this. That you want him.

He pushes you flat against the cold brick of the hallway, the dimmed lights helping hide your bodies from the crowd. You’re lucky he holds you up because your legs feel like jello and if he lets go you might lose your balance. His hands roam your waist, back, and neck before he moves your hair out of the way. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses around your neck as his hands work their way down to your legs. They slowly glide up until he’s playing with the hem of your short dress. You can already feel his growing erection press against your ass.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He groans against your ear.

You really want to tell him to fuck off but your body reacts differently. You’re shocked when instead of telling him to call it a night all you murmur is keep going. In a matter of seconds your dress is being pulled up towards your waist. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as he rubs your aching core through your panties.

“So wet already.” He groans. “For me or Lando?”

“Shut up.” You still find it in you to annoy him.

To your surprise he doesn’t hit you with another remark. Max had been an asshole to you long enough. Now, that you were in front of him practically falling apart he didn’t want to ruin the moment. There’s a brief moment of silence before his hand carefully moves your panties to the side exposing your core to the cool breeze. Your legs spread instinctively as his fingers tempt your folds. His fingers collect your slick as he explores you, the wet sound making him groan against you. Slowly, he brings one of his fingers to your hole entering it carefully.

“Fuck.” He moans against your ear as your cunt wraps tightly around his finger.

“Ma- Max. So close.” You’re barely able to say.

You let out a loud whine as he curls his finger inside of you leading to your climax. You come around his fingers as you coat them with your wetness. His fingers slowly move toward your mouth and you don’t hesitate as you take them into your mouth, tasting yourself. He almost comes undone as you lick his fingers seductively. Aggressively he grabs your jaw and kisses you. He groans as he tastes you.

You feel the tip of him first as he runs it up and down your folds teasing you. Your hands are weak against the wall as his tip approaches your aching hole. He enters you slowly, holding you tightly in the process. He stops halfway through not wanting to hurt you but when he hears your dirty moans he continues. Your nails dig tightly into his arms as he fills you up completely. He’s quite big and the new sensation has you spiraling trying your best to not fall against him. He takes advantage of your weakness and attacks your neck again making sure to leave love bites around your collarbone.

“Fuck, Max. You’re so big.” You whine without thinking.

You feel his dick twitch inside you at that. Your voice has him in a trance as he tries his best to not just start thrusting inside of you. It’s not until you start pushing your ass against him that he almost pulls out fully before thrusting back into you. His hands grip your ass tightly—surely leaving marks for tomorrow—as your cunt squeezes him. He’s never felt such a thrill, at least since Abu Dhabi, you were your own feeling. He couldn’t believe you had finally opened up to him in many ways you were way better than winning another trophy. Many curses escape your lips as he finds the perfect pace inside of you.

He manages to bend you over leading to the perfect position and somehow he’s even deeper inside of you. He grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he speeds up inside of you. His hand trails back to your cunt and slowly he starts playing with your folds. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your folds is intense and you find a camisole feeling in your stomach approach you. You squeeze him tightly as his dick hits the right spot and you find yourself coming undone. You’ve never had an orgasm so intense in your life you don’t even notice how you coat his dick with your wetness.

Max isn’t far behind and speeds up at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly. Your nails dig behind you at the overstimulation and stretch of his cock. Max hisses at the sensation finding it the tipping point. It’s not long before you feel his dick twitch inside of you and in a matter of seconds you feel him spill his seed inside of you. He grunts as he empties himself and as he pulls out. He pulls you up adjusting your dress in the process.

You bite your lip as he zips up his pants. The aftermath of your little rendezvous is different. Usually with others you don’t stay long enough to watch them dress themselves. But then you notice Max struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt and you find your hands on his chest again. You only button half of the shirt before stepping back. Neither of you say a word but the silence manages to speak for you both. You decide it’s time to go back but before you can take a step Max pulls you in for a final kiss before he leaves.

You’re barely able to walk back towards the VIP lounge and stumble multiple times in the process. You try your best to brush your hair down and fix your dress as you come closer to your brother’s booth. You sit down carefully unaware your brother is staring at you wide eyed and wondering why it took you almost an hour to get a drink. You shift awkwardly in your seat as Lily begins telling you both about her mixup at the airport. You turn around briefly as she goes into detail when you notice Max walking past your table. You keep your composure not wanting to expose your actions of the night but you should’ve known better. Oscar almost bursts out laughing at Max’s completely unbuttoned shirt.

“Lando’s gonna be pissed.” Your brother smirks.

“How do-” Did everyone know? “Oh, fuck off.”

The night progresses with your brother ordering countless bottles of Dom Pérignon. It’s almost five in the morning when Max takes the stage again with the DJ playing a remix of Super Max. As if on cue someone hands him a bottle of champagne and it doesn’t take long for him to start spraying it amongst those on the dance floor. You watch attentively as his chest shows the marks you left completely unaware of how your phone buzzes for the hundredth time that night.

9 missed calls from Lan

Lan: Tonight was shit.

Lan: Come over?

[travelingmaster-inspirations]

My phone chimed, informing me that there was an incoming video call and even though I felt I was too busy to be bothered, I felt steadily uneasy about ignoring it.

Since I didn't feel comfortable doing that, I sighed and picked up my phone. I frowned when I saw the ID because even though I couldn't place the name, I felt like I knew exactly who it was. The feeling bothered me a little, but not enough to put the phone back down.

So I wiped the frown from my face and put on my best smile before I swiped to answer.

The bright flashes of light that instantly illuminated my screen completely caught me off guard, making me gasp in stunned surprise as I noticed the big bold letters appear on my screen.

"SLEEP DARLING"

Instant regret washed over me as the familiar words pulled down my mind into complete and utter docility.

As I helplessly stared and sank ever deeper, hazy memories floated back up to the surface of my thoughts and gently reminded me that there was no way to resist. Because this wasn't the first time that I've experienced the captivating lights dancing before my eyes. They were so familiar to me that all it takes is a moment for them to tap into the deep conditioning my previous trances programmed into my entranced mind.

I starred at the mesmerizing screen, sinking deeper and deeper until my mind completely went quiet and something implanted deep within my mind triggered me to speak.

"I am deeply entranced..." I said in a soft vacant voice. "Docile and ready to obey..."

The words escaped my lips so naturally that it didn't even feel like I had been the one to say them. But I obviously had because my screen reacted to my statement by switching out the letters for new ones.

"GOOD GIRL"

A wave of pleasantly erotic warmth washed over my whole body when my gaze finally registered the words they formed. In that thoughtless empty state, there was nothing I wanted more than to be a good girl and knowing that I was filled me with comforting happiness.

"Are you ready to receive instructions you'll remember to forget?" I heard a very familiar voice say over the speakers.

"Yes... Master..." I said in that said toneless voice.

I heard my own answers from my lips without knowing I was the one that spoke them. They simply floated out of the depths of my mind and escaped as naturally as the breath I released with each relaxed intake of air.

"Good girl." he said, sending another wave of erotic warmth through my body. "Now listen carefully and obey..."

I diligently listened to all his instruction and stayed perfectly entranced and docile until he was done and I could finally hang up and remember to forget that I was to put on my sexiest lingerie and walk out of my apartment so I could knock on my neighbors door so he could continue my conditioning...

BYCHARI

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for anon

Request: So I was thinking a scenario with my OC Andros, who is an ancient deer god/being, and a human baker named Lizzie. Roughly for the plot I was thinking that Lizzie runs a bakery in a small town by this dark woods and everyone avoids it because of the monsters that live there. One night she’s working late to finish a big order and Andros is attracted by the smell of cookies and then spicy shenanigans ensue. Does that sound okay?

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning, means a lot! This was really fun and wholesome, hope you like it :)

Like cookies, like home

Deer god (Andros) x fem!reader (Lizzie) || knotting, oral sex, cum-inflation, very soft

You are in the middle of preparing the next batch of cookies when you hear something falling outside. A big sound that startles you into almost dropping a tray of cookies. Luckily, you save it in the last second.

You know most people wouldn’t go investigate, but you have been preparing cookies for what felt like an eternity and you could use a break. You open the back door and stare at the dark woods, only illuminated by the moon and the light of the kitchen behind you. There’s only shadows and silence outside, and that calms you.

You aren’t scared, but there’s an edge of anticipation filling your gut that you can’t quite place. It’s like something inside of you is urging you to look further, to discover what’s creeping in the shadows. You’ve been playing with the occult for long enough to know to always trust your gut, your intuition telling you more than most of old tales to scare children.

“Who’s there?” Something moves on the periphery of your vision, and your pulse skips a beat. It must be a trick of the light...

You swallow a gasp when the figure appears. You barely see him at first, a big mass of moss behind a couple big trees, but when he stands up, you feel like the world stops for a second. He’s massive, big and magical in a way you can’t explain. He’s like a moss-monster walking on two legs, and has big ass antlers at the top of his head that give him an aura of a forest spirit.

You know you should be scared, but it’s not what you are feeling, not at all.

You can’t hold your tongue before you ask: “Who are you?” He twists his head to the side, almost like a confused puppy would do, and you chuckle, his adorableness dissolving all tension remaining inside of you. You take a step towards him, a hand stretched in the same way you’d do with a scared animal, non threatening, slow. “I’m Lizzie, do you have a name?” You aren’t sure what’s driving you to him, but you just... know.

���Andros,” his voice is so low and guttural that sends shivers down your spine, anticipation returning with force until you are almost panting.

By the time you are in front of him, your heartbeat is going crazy and he’s staring at you in some kind of wonder. He smells the air when you are close enough, like there’s something there. But you can only smell cookies, the sweet smell of cinnamon and ginger lingering around you after so many hours working at your bakery.

“Smell good,” he lets out. You almost giggle at his surprise, a big hand approaching your middle until he’s touching your hip. You are looking up at him, your neck almost hurting because he’s that tall.

“Do you want some cookies? That’s what you are smelling, right?” You ask him, your body tilting to his hand, seeking more of his touch.

“Cookies,” he repeats.

He looks weirdly surprised, like he wasn’t expecting you not to run, and much less to offer him any food. You smile up at him and he tries to replicate, but it looks weird on his face, like a grimace that makes you chuckle.

You take his hand and pull, expecting him to follow as you get back to the bakery. It takes a bit of maneuvering for him to be able to enter the store, his body too big for the door. Luckily, your ceilings are high and he can stand almost completely inside the store, but he chooses to sit on the floor by the door. He’s almost as tall as you in that position, and you can’t avoid checking his body over. You feel a heat blooming inside of you that was never there before. It’s like his mere presence is igniting your insides until you feel breathless with the need to touch him in some way.

You grab a couple of cookies and approach him again, your hand stretched in offering as he smells them before taking them. He’s so careful not to touch you with his claws, retracting them before taking the cookies. He stuffs them in his mouth in one fluid movement, humming in pleasure as he looks at you. For some reason that makes you blush, embarrassment and some emotions you can’t name filling your insides. Your legs turn jelly, and you have to sit down on a stool in front of him.

“Cookies,” he repeats once again, making you laugh.

“You want more?” He nods vehemently and you get more for him.

That means you’d have to work even later, but you don’t care. He looks so happy to be eating the cookies you made that you have no heart to tell him anything.

After a whole batch of cookies he seems satisfied, his big hand on his lean stomach as he grunts happily, a smile-grimace stretching his features until he looks almost comical.

“Why are you here?” You ask after a moment of silence.

“Smelled cookies, now here,” he says, as if talking is a new thing for him, as if he doesn’t really know how language works. But that’s okay, you understand him well enough.

“You came here just for my cookies?” You ask, a big smile stretching your mouth, pleased.

He nods and adds: “Cookies smell good, and you too.”

“Me, too? I smell good, too?” You wonder, amused.

“Yes. Better than cookies.” He’s nodding almost frantically, his antlers moving up and down. “You smell…” He pauses, like the words aren’t coming to him just yet. “You smell good. Like forest. And cookies. Like home.” His last words made you gasp, looking at him intently. You don’t know what it is, but as soon as he says it, you know he’s telling the truth. And weirdly enough… you feel it, too.

You approach him carefully, your hands shaking slightly. “What do you mean I smell like home?”

“Home. Mine. Cookies,” his head is turned to the side, the puppy gesture making you want to scream at him to stop being so adorable.

You stop in front of him and reach up to touch his creepy face. You aren’t sure what you are going to say next, but you surprise both of you when what comes out of your mouth is: “You do, too.” You gasp at the realization that it’s true, he does smell like home. He feels like home. Like he’s supposed to be here, like you are supposed to be with him.

He launches for you before you can blink twice, his big hands coming around your soft middle and pushing you to the floor, his big body covering yours instantly. He starts nuzzling your neck, like your words gave him permission to do so, and he might be right, because instead of protesting, you groan.

His raspy long tongue meets your pulse point and he starts nibbling at your pulse point, making your body melt under his and your pussy gets wetter and wetter. He travels down your body, ripping your clothes with his sharp claws as he does so. You are left naked and needy by the time he reaches the valley between your thighs.

“Andros, please…” You beg, your hips moving involuntarily, your center aching to be touched, licked, filled… He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

His tongue finds your clit instantly. Most men have a hard time discovering it, but your forest monster is there in a second, sucking and touching, rubbing it with the perfect amount of force to drive you close to the edge.

“You taste sweet. Like cookies,” he says as his tongue reaches so deep inside of you, you have to grab onto his antlers to have some kind of control over your body.

He’s touching and licking and sucking… He’s driving you completely mad with pleasure, and you don’t know if you can take it. You don’t know if your body and soul are ready to take all of him, but at that moment you can’t even care about it. You only care about his tongue inside of you, over your clit, and his fingers digging into your full hips and ass, pushing you against his face to get more access if that’s even possible.

He eats you out like a monster, and you enjoy it like a good monsterfucker.

He makes you come twice before you have the focus to drag him up and urge his dick between your legs. You need him, you need him completely. “Can I?” He asks, the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“Please,” you beg him.

He’s so big you are a bit worried he won’t be able to fit, but somehow… He does. He keeps going slow and steady until he’s inside of you completely. Your brain short-circuits at the desperate whines he’s letting out, as if being inside of you is enough to drive him crazy.

You pull your legs up around his middle, urging him deeper, urging him to move. And he complies. He starts a frantic pace that fucks all thoughts off your head. You can’t do anything but take it and scream his name.

“Andros, Andros, Andros…” You call out his name with each thrust, and when you feel something rubbing against your entrance, your brain focuses enough to ask: “What is that?” You choke out.

“My knot,” he grunts, pressing harder until it breaches you, making all the air in your lungs leave as you scream to the ceiling. You feel so full, so very, very full. It’s exhilarating.

He rolls his hips and you grab onto his antlers for dear life, rocking your hips simultaneously, trying to milk the pleasure out of him. He grunts, his dick twitching inside of you as you feel the first shot of his cum inside of you. You throw your head back and call out his name. He answers with a scream of his own, driving you insane with pleasure. One of his hands finds your nipple, pinching and twisting to the point of brain melting pleasure.

You come again. And again. And again.

His knot is pressing on the perfect point for you to get as much pleasure as possible, and he’s taking that to his advantage. Caressing and groping your body until you aren’t nothing but a mess of fluids and pleasure.

And he keeps coming, filling you to the brim, filling you so much you can feel it forming a pool under your body. He fills you so much you can feel it moving inside with each movement of his body over yours, you can see your tummy getting bloated as he fills you. But you don’t care. You are too fucked out to care.

By the time his knot goes down and your breathing comes back to normal, you are tired to the bone. He’s weirdly silent, but his claws are still tracing shapes over your soft tummy.

“Can I get another cookie, Lizzie?” He says after a beat, making you giggle so loud and hard your middle hurts.

“Yes, you big monster, grab a cookie,” you give him permission, still giggling.

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Would've Could've Should've - Part 2

Hi Babes! :D Me again....you guys absolutely blew up the first part of this which I wasn't expecting so like thank you?? 😭😭😭

As I mentioned before never say never….this one’s a love I’ve had for…20 odd years and comes clad in yellow spandex….

Another one that was meant to live in the WIP and has taken on a life of its own...

I've had some wicked writer's block but my @ken-dom has still been mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist much like everything I’ve written over the last year and a half.

As always, this NSFW 18+

We've got plans this man and I

Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet.

Enjoy my loves! <3

You locked the door with a sigh, turning off the open sign. You turned on your heel, making your way back to where Logan sat, leaned back against the bar, watching. 

“What?” You asked, slowing your steps 

“C’mere” he jerked his head and you shook yours. 

“N-no” you spoke quietly 

You had spent a majority of your shift mercilessly teasing him and now the bar was closed and it was just the two of you…and you had a sickening sense of deja vu.

“Why not?” He mused, getting to his feet. He hadn't drank as much as he usually does and you were starting to understand why. 

“I don't want to” you pressed your lips together before dropping your gaze. 

You could sense him moving closer, the heavy footfalls of his work boots. You swallowed hard as his feet appeared in front of yours. 

He was quiet, you were both quiet, and unmoving. 

His hand reached to grip your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him. 

You swallowed hard a second time as he started to walk you backwards. 

You gasped as your back hit the wall and he didn't stop, closing the distance between you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest when he stopped, lips mere millimeters from yours. 

Fingers flexed against your jaw and you let out a shaky breath, struggling to find your voice. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You shook your head as much as his grip would allow. “N-nothing”

He simply hummed, the hand holding your face, moving to run a finger over your cheek; your face instantly flushed a deep red. The gentleness of his touch putting you on edge.

“You think you can spend the night taunting me?” He asked, his voice low, even, and calculated. “Teasing me?”

You watched as he dropped his hand, a single claw slowly appearing from between his knuckles.

“Logan-” you whispered, voice barely audible; the memory coming screaming back and you fought the urge not to go rigid. 

“I'm waiting” he said sternly, his exposed claw dragging along the thin fabric of your t-shirt as he slowly dragged it down the centre, but not enough pressure to peirce fabric…not yet.

Another hard swallow and you shook your head; your eyes fixed on the single blade as it came to rest between your cleavage, Logan having dragged it back up the middle.

He retracted it back under his skin without a word, but didn’t move. He was still close…too close, crowding your space, doing it on purpose; knowing you could feel the heat radiating off his body. He moved to cup your cheek in his hand, instinctively you leaned into his touch, your eyes slipping closed as you felt your knees falter. Finding it very difficult to take a full breath.

“Log-” you started again, cut off mid breath by a bruising, demanding kiss. 

You let yourself be pinned against the wall, thankful for something sturdy as his lips moved against yours; taking a deep breath in through your nose, and in spite of yourself, you couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped from between your mouths as you felt his hand push under your hair at the back of your neck; his fingers tangling in the strands. 

He pressed against you, his free hand finding your hip, squeezing hard. 

You whined against his mouth and he seized the opportunity, slipping his tongue between your lips with a moan himself. 

Your head was spinning, if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you were drunk. 

He tasted just like you remembered; whiskey and stale cigars. Something on any other night you would be repulsed by, but not with Logan…never with Logan…ever.

Finally, you got a grip on yourself, pushing him back gently; very aware of one hand on the nape of your neck, the other tucked up under your t-shirt. His shoulders were warm under your hands as you caught your breath and attempted to focus. 

“We can’t-” you breathed 

“Sure we can,” he countered, his breathing just as heavy and laboured as yours before his lips crashed against yours a second time. 

Your mouth moved against his briefly before you pried your lips from his, reluctantly, taking a much needed breath. Logan simply moved his assault to your exposed neck, his warm, wet tongue gliding over your overheated skin before his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh; making your knees buckle as you gasped against his ear, his strong arm sliding around your back to keep you upright. 

“Fuck, Logan” you whimpered as he sucked hard on your now marked flesh. 

He hummed against your neck with approval, fingers on both his hands curling against your skin. 

Your own teeth sank into your bottom lip as you fought to keep your composure. 

“Not here” you whispered, finally releasing your lip 

He laughed light and breathy against the shell of your ear, making your shiver “Yes, here” he whispered against the shell of your ear “You think you’re going to tease me all night like that and I’m not going to fuck you on every flat surface in this place?” 

His emphasis on the word ‘fuck’ sent goosebumps over your skin and your breath caught in your throat. 

“That’s a lot of surfaces” you whimpered feeling his fingers toy with the waistband of your skirt 

“And once we’re done down here,” he continued, his teeth scraping against your earlobe. “I’m going to take you upstairs, and fuck you on every flat surface up there too” 

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as you attempted to squeeze your thighs together; unsuccessfully as the hand on your hip shot like a flash between your legs, keeping them spread apart. 

“Ah ah” he chuckled lightly, his eyes finally meeting yours 

You knew you were flushed, and you knew he could smell the fear emanating from you; but you also knew he could smell the arousal too 

“Logan…” you warned, trying your damnedest to sound intimidating and failing miserably. 

He stepped back, dropping both his hands to his sides; his eyes raking over your form. 

“One,” he counted and you cocked your head slightly as he smirked 

“Two…” he continued 

You stepped out of your black pumps, dropping your height a good three inches, with a smirk of your own before you tore around him toward the back of the bar, toward the kitchen as he continued counting over your shoulder. 

Five seconds, if he was feeling generous…three if he wasn’t….

This was all part of the little game you had found yourself a part of; one you had suggested initially, on a drunken night that seemed like it was ages ago. Count to ten you had told him, ten seconds head start and if he had found you, he would be rewarded. 

Now, instead of ten seconds, you got five….and he hunted. 

Immediately through the door, you dropped out of sight and maneuvered your way around the dark kitchen. Within seconds, the same door you had come through, swung open a second time; Logan’s form looming in the darkness. You quieted your breathing as you watched his eyes scan the dark room. He stepped forward, boots landing heavily as he did, making the floor verberate under your now bare feet. 

Your heart beat hard in your ears as you slipped around one of the small tables, keeping him in sight, his back to you, but you still moved slow and quiet; for every step he took deeper into the kitchen you took back toward the way you had come. 

He had expected you to hide, he always expected you to hide. 

Your eyes adjusted slowly, making it easier to see, but you knew if it was becoming easier for you, it was becoming easier for him too. 

“I can smell you” he declared to the silent room 

You pressed your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between your thighs. His promises echoing in the back of your mind.

Every. Flat. Surface. 

You watched as he moved toward the very back of the kitchen, and you quickly got to your feet and tip toed as swiftly as  you could manage, back through the double doors. Logan’s footfalls were heavy behind you for a fraction of a second before they went silent again, but he hadn’t followed you out. 

You clocked the narrow staircase a few feet away from your place behind the bar. Your apartment was your goal, if you made it there, you won.  He was still in the kitchen if you moved fast you could- You gasped quietly, dropping to the floor as the doors swung gently.  Now he stood between you and your exit. 

The bar was darker than usual, you wondered if there was no moon out tonight as you crouched, silently making your way around the front of the bar, stopping before giving yourself away. 

He clicked his tongue with disapproval and you stayed rooted to your spot…hoping he would go the way you’d come. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard the unmistakable scrape of metal on wood. He was slowly making his way to the other end of the bar, dragging his claws as he went. You had a clear path from where you crouched to the stairs, all you had to do was outrun him. 

You stood to your full height and ran for the stairs as if your life depended on it. 

Your foot just missed the bottom step before a strong arm wrapped around your middle, a hand collapsing over your mouth as he snarled “I win”  in your ear, dragging you back toward the bar. 

He turned you to face him, both hands gripping your hips none too gently as he pushed you back against the wall, making the liquor bottles on the nearby shelf rattle dangerously. His mouth claiming yours for a fraction of a second before he yanked your t-shirt over your head, dropping it at your feet. 

You had given up trying to protest, throwing your arms around his neck as he lifted you off your feet, guiding your legs around his waist. 

You practically melted into the wall, letting his weight support you fully as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. 

Your fingers pushed through the thick strands of dark hair at the back of his head as you moaned shamelessly against his mouth. 

His hips rolling forward, intentionally grinding the bulge hidden under his jeans against your core. 

You arched your back as much as he would allow, head hitting plaster as you threw your head back with a cry towards the ceiling. 

Logan growled with approval as his teeth scraped over the length of your throat, rolling his hips a second time, this time slower, more deliberate. 

“Fuck,” you grit your teeth “L-Logan”

His breath was hot and heavy against your ear as he chuckled lightly “Don't worry, I plan too” 

In spite of yourself, a whimper tumbled from your lips. 

“But,” he leaned back slightly, pulling your legs free of his midsection, hand still firmly on your hip. “Not right now”

You blinked, processing his words as he leaned back slightly. 

“W-what?”

“You heard me” he smirked, his free hand disappearing up under your skirt, his calloused fingers teasing the inside of your thigh. 

You jumped slightly with a gasp as they were replaced by metal, cold against your skin before it disappeared, his fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your panties. “Not right now” He repeated, his voice cool and even. 

As fast as it had appeared, his hand dropped from between your legs, but not before his middle finger pushed firmly against that throbbing bundle of nerves and he turned on his heel, leaving you leaning against the wall to collect yourself. 

“LOGAN!’ You nearly shrieked and he stopped mid-stride halfway between you and the front door, but he kept his back to you. 

“What?” His deep voice amused at your obvious frustration. “Something wrong?” He taunted, echoing your own words back at you. 

You clenched your teeth together, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek as he stood stationary. 

“I can't stay,” he said simply “I've got things to do…”

You glared at the back of his head “It's two o'clock in the morning, what the fuck could you possibly have to do?!”

“Not fucking you seems to be at the top of that list” he mused, turning back to face you. “Seems to be the thing that would piss you off the most” 

You took a sharp breath in through your nose and he laughed again. 

“Unclench your jaw babe, it's not a good look” 

“You're not doing this to best me” you finally spoke, but keeping your voice quiet. 

“Oh no?” He cocked an eyebrow curiously 

You shook your head 

“Then why am I doing it?” He asked, arms folding over his broad chest 

“Because you're scared,” you challenged, finally moving away from the wall and moving toward him slowly as you continued “You've got some deep seated fucked up trauma that you don't talk about because God forbid you let someone in”

His eyes narrowed as you came to a stop, a few feet from where he stood. “Stop”

“Did I hit a nerve?” You cocked your head slightly, still aware you were in nothing but your skirt and a bra. “Or a memory?” you whispered

“Don't” he snapped, the warning clear in his voice, but still you pushed 

“Ooh, the dark brooding angry side, like I haven't seen that before. You rolled your eyes. “Come on Logan,” you laughed “You and I both know you're a walking fucking disaster, the screaming nightmares night after night, your drinking problem….other problems”

As you continued, he clenched his hands into fists and you could see the flash of his white teeth in the darkness, the tips of his claws glinting in the moonlight. 

Despite your heart slamming in your chest, you somehow managed to keep your voice even. 

“Don't even get me started on those” you bit, glancing briefly at his hands. “All they do is cause damage….” You intentionally scratched at your scar. 

Logan snapped, claws out, teeth bared, he lunged at you in the darkness. 

Before you could blink, wondering if maybe you'd taken it too far, you found yourself on top of the bar on your back, Logan's weight pinning you there as he loomed over you, nose to nose, claws of his right hand buried as deep as he could get them into the bartop. 

He was breathing hard, jaw clenched tight.  

You jumped slightly as he wrenched his hand free of the polished wood; his eyes fixed on yours. You didn't dare move, not that you could if you had wanted to. 

“Not. Another. Fucking. Word.” He snarled, his breath warm against your already flushed cheeks. 

You managed a half nod before he crushed his mouth against yours, his teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip, making you cry out against his mouth. 

This time there was zero hesitation as he broke your kiss, a quick flash of silver metal rendering your bra completely useless as it fell to pieces. 

Your skirt was the next casualty, his claws running right down the centre, cutting it to useless ribbons of fabric. 

He locked eyes with you, claws retracted as he tossed his shirt into the darkness and worked open his belt, pushing his jeans off his hips, his fingers curled around the waistband of your underwear and you smirked when you noticed he wasn't wearing any of his own. 

You bit down on your lip as you lifted your hips. 

You were breathing hard, but you couldn't will yourself to stop, heart still racing as warm hands pushed your knees apart, Logan moving himself closer. 

“What, no foreplay?” You breathed 

Logan scoffed, his hands finding your hips. “As if you need it” 

He yanked you forward roughly, off the edge of the bar and you gasped, an arm instinctively wrapping around his neck as you caught yourself on his shoulder with the other hand. 

His hands holding firmly under your thighs, supporting the entirety of your weight with ease as your legs found their way back around his waist. 

Neither of you spoke, your breathing was shaky and ragged; his was slow and even. 

His fingers flexed against your thigh, sending a shockwave of electricity straight to your core. 

You gasped, breathing hard enough that your chest brushed against his every time you inhaled. 

“Scared?” He smirked, still painfully close and doing nothing about it, despite the press of his arousal against the inside of your thigh. 

You shook your head slowly, knowing full well if he couldn't feel your heart slamming against your ribs, he could likely smell it on you. 

As if to prove your point, his nose slid slowly along your cheek as he leaned forward, taking a deep breath as his lips pressed against your ear, his weight pushing you back against the edge of the bar. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath tickled your neck. 

“Liar” he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. You whimpered, leaning harder against his chest as his teeth pulled on your earlobe, at the same time his hips thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt in one swift movement. 

You cried out, arching against him, your nails biting into his bare shoulder. 

Without so much as a second breath he thrust again, using the bar at your back to his advantage, his hands moving to your hips. The bruising ache of his gripping fingers, buried deep in your flesh. The familiar sting of metal biting flesh right above his fingers as you rocked against him, shamelessly moaning against his neck. 

You bent your head just enough to run your tongue over the hollow of his collarbone, a needy moan against your neck sending shivers through your entire body. 

You lifted your head only to be met by a demanding, possessive kiss. Rough and sloppy as one of his hands found its way into your hair. His tongue tangling with yours as your own fingers twisted in his thick, dark locks, pulling hard, a feral growl escaping from deep in his chest as you squeezed your legs harder around his waist as he fucked you harder. 

He pulled his mouth from yours and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Both of you breathing hard, your lungs burning from the effort of it. 

“Logan I-” you managed before a desperate moan tumbled from your lips “Oh, God” Your nails moving to drag down the expanse of his bare back. 

You threw your head back, feeling his arms wrap around your frame, crushing you against his chest as your orgasm rocked your body, your fingernails buried deep in the flesh of his back, his animalistic roar echoing around the empty bar before he collapsed against you. 

You could feel the raised welts your nails had left in their wake down his back slowly starting to heal themselves as he eased his hold on you, 

Your breath caught in your throat slightly as he slid from inside you, leaving you feeling empty…wanting to be full. 

He let your legs slip from around his waist with a sigh, both of you panting hard. 

You opened your mouth to speak, your eyes searching his face and he shook his head almost like he had read your mind. 

“Logan…” 

“Not another word” he smirked

“But I-” 

Before you could protest further, he took your face in both hands and kissed you deeply; your feet leaving the floor as he hoisted you into his arms. You pulled back with a giggle as his beard scratched against your cheek and he kissed a path along your jaw.

“I can walk” you quipped, your arms finding their way around his neck as you leaned against his shoulder. 

“Not once I get through with you” he breathed against the shell of your ear. 

You whimpered and he laughed, smirking against your skin; the ghost of his breath sending a shiver down the length of your spine as he carried you up the stairs towards your apartment.

[thisonegirl]

Hello, whoever you are

pairing : touya “dabi” todoroki x reader rating : sfw warnings : mentions of death wc : 1.5k (edited) part I part II part III ps: yes, I'm aware that it's unlikely that he'd be able to speak this much but just pretend okay

Y/N’s body shook violently where she stood. 

Her mind spinning as the question of whether she was doing the right thing plagued her.

With the war being over and everyone worried about rebuilding their lives from the destruction, Y/N had a secondary worry. She had seen the destruction Dabi left and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was alive after all that happened.

In a singular moment of courage in her life, she asked. Such a simple action that she knew would have further repressed hence her fear, but she still did it. 

“How do you know him?”

She had been asked in return. And so the retelling of that story began. Luckily, she had no useful information so it wasn’t too bad that she hadn’t spoken up before but the guilt of having kept silent for so long gnawed at her conscience.

Now, she stood before the hospital with her feet glued to the ground beneath her, staring at the building that now held her… acquaintance? If she could even call him that.

“You’re the one who was asking about him, right?”

A soft yet raspy voice asked from beside her. Its sudden appearance startled her, making her head snap to the left to face its owner.

It was a boy. His hair was half white and half red and a burn scar marred the left side of his face. Y/N recognized him. She had seen him a couple of times on television and she knew that he was Endeavor's youngest son. The half-cold, half-hot hero. 

Remembering that he had asked a question, she snapped out of her trance just enough to provide a nod as a response.

“Are you going in?” He asked.

“Oh- Uh, I-I’m not sure,” she stammered. She wasn’t sure she was willing to face him. She didn’t even know if he wanted to see her. Especially since she so rudely sent him away that one night.

“Why not?” The question felt a bit intrusive but she responded either way.

“I don’t think he’d want to see me,” she explained.

“He doesn’t want to see anyone. He hates all of us actually but what matters is that we’re there regardless,” the softness of his tone soothed Y/N. The trembling of her body slowly eased as he offered a comforting smile.

“Wanna come in with me?” 

She nodded following him as they made their way inside the hospital. It was full, all of them were to be fair. She felt a bit relieved that she wouldn’t have to navigate these full halls in search of the correct room as the boy walked with confidence so she was sure he already knew the way. 

As they neared the door of the room where Dabi would be in, their steps slowed significantly until they reached a full stop right in front of said door.

“You can go in first.”

“No!” She burst out before she could stop herself, “I mean- uh… h-he’s your brother. You should go first.” 

“Like you said, he’s my brother soI come here quite often. Maybe seeing a new face would be good for him,” he said. Sighing, she nodded before hesitantly opening the door. 

The room was mostly bare except for a large machine a couple of chairs in front of it. With furrowed brows, Y/N slowly inched closer to it only to gasp at the sight before her. Inside the machine, dwelled an unrecoverably burnt Dabi and that when it clicked: it was his life support.

Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the man’s deteriorated state. Was there anything she could’ve done to make him see reason? To make him stay that night when he had dinner at her home? 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarser than before and he spoke slowly as though uttering each word was a struggle. It likely was actually.

“I came to see you,” she whispered, still shocked by his state.

“Why?”

“I don’t know…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say in general. She stared at him as they stood before each other in silence, both analyzing the other.

“I guess you were right,” he said after what felt like an eternity of silence. Y/N knew exactly what he meant and it broke her heart that that was his first thought. “I should’ve stayed with you that night.”

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.

“My family visits me everyday. They missed me all this time,” she could swear she heard his voice tremble a bit, “I could’ve just gone home, maybe if I had stayed with you, I would’ve eventually.”

“I met your younger brother, the one from UA. He seemed nice,” she said in a shaky voice, only then did she notice she was crying.

“Yeah, he comes by a lot too. I used to hate him, you know,” he admitted.

“You hated everyone,” Y/N retorted.

“I know. But I hated him first and most,”

“Why? He seems to love you so much,” Y/N questioned, emboldened by the fact that he was already opening up to her.

“I wanted to be what he was in my dad’s eyes,” the confession broke her heart. To feel so inadequate and unloved that he turned to cruelty and villainy was a heartbreaking thing. 

Y/N knew that Endeavor must’ve felt guilty for all that happened and quite frankly, he deserved to feel so.

“How are you?” She asked. Only after did she process how stupid her question was in face of his current circumstances, “Nevermind, I-“

“I’m fine…” he responded, “might not look like it but I am,”

“Oh but -“

“How? I got my family back and I know I don’t have much longer so it’s nice to have them around for now,”

Her heart stopped for a split second. I don't have much longer. What?

“W-What do you mean by that?” She questioned with a slight quiver to her lip as she felt her chest tighten as tears flow faster.

“You know what I mean,” he said. A sob escaped her lips, “I didn’t know I matter this much to you,” he continued, “now I really regret not staying.”

“I wish you stayed too,” she cried. “I hoped you’d come back or at least not go to them. I should’ve tried to make you stay! I should’ve done something!”

“No. There was nothing you could’ve done,” he opposed, “nothing that wouldn’t be met with danger and you had to think about the kids too.”

She didn’t respond any further. Just stood there sobbing her heart out as she struggled to speak.

“I could’ve loved you,” Dabi confessed, “I knew I could when you called me Dabi and I hated it.” Y/N’s sobs stopped as she stared at him in pure shock. Her heart sped up, pounding against her chest as she struggled to make sense of what he said.

“I think I did- or do love you,” she said, “I think that’s why I feel so guilty.”

“Don’t. I brought this on myself.”

“Still! Everyone did their best to try and help and I just sat there like a coward!” She burst out, “I could have done something!”

“It doesn’t matter now. All we can do it think about the future,”

“You just said you don’t have long,” she sobbed.

“I know. But I want you to be here for the time I have left.”

She shook her head. With her legs finally growing tired, she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Touya’s machine.

“Why did everything have to be like this?” She wondered out loud.

“I don’t know.”

A knock on the door called for both of their attention. A warning that their time was up. Sniffling and wiping her face, she got up from her seat and looked at Touya once more.

“Can I come by again?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes, I’d like that,” he responded, making her smile softly.

“Bye for now then-“ she stopped hesitantly. “Is it Dabi or Touya now?” 

“I’ll be whoever for you,” he responded. She smiled shyly before continuing her goodbyes and leaving the room.

Finding Touya’s brother still waiting in the hallway, she felt bad for the time she took, “Hi, thanks for helping me find his room,” she said to the boy once he noticed her presence.

“No problem,” he smiled, “hope to see you again.”

“You will,” she said confidently.

She left the hospital feeling much lighter and at ease. It was bittersweet but she decided to only focus on the sweetness of the situation rather than the bitterness of it.

The next day, Y/N walked into the hospital with no hesitation. She found his room with little to no effort and sat before him with a new found sense of what she could describe as belonging.

“Hello,” she said, smiling at him from the other side of the glass of the machine where he laid.

“Is it Touya or Dabi to you,” he said, sensing a little teasing in his tone.

“Hello, whoever you are,” she teased back.

The laughter they shared felt like a marking of a new beginning. They were both aware of how short lived it would be but that didn’t matter at that moment. They figured that the ‘now’ was more important and what they should focus on.

——————————

masterlist

[duu-kiwi]

is now the time when i finally take out the license to be horny on main???

[yueebby]

12:03 pm  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo tries to convince his first years that he was able to pull you.

contents. fluff, crack??, whipped!gojo, mentions of having a kid, he is SO in love with his wife it's disgusting, the first years are sick of their teacher

“[name] sensei is a good looking woman, isn’t she?” yuji remarked, nonchalantly propping his feet up on the desk. “you think so too, right gojo sensei?”

a sly smile played on the corners of gojo's lips, eventually blossoming into a wide, dreamy grin. “good eye yuji! she's undeniably the most beautiful woman on this planet.”

megumi, seated at the desk beside yuji, couldn't hide his grimace.

nobara's expression mirrored that of a disgruntled sea urchin. “dream big, you two. she’s way outta both of your leagues.”

“she is, isn’t she?” gojo sighs dreamily, his gaze far away. a dopey grin settles over his face; like a man walking on air. it was deeply unsettling to the first years to see a grown man behave this way.

megumi rolled his eyes and muttered his disapproval, choosing to ignore his sensei, who had casually seated himself backwards on a chair.

gojo propped his chin with both of his palms, leaning closer into the first years students. “do you think i’d stand a chance with a woman like her?”

megumi buried his face in his hands, audibly groaning in response.

“a sensible woman like that and you? fat chance.” nobara deadpanned, squinting disapprovingly at her teacher. her negative comments elicit a grunt from the snow-haired man.

yuji’s eyes flit nervously from kugisaki to gojo. 

“sensei! i think you have a chance with [name] sensei!” yuji tried to reassure his white haired teacher, offering a thumbs-up. gojo responded by affectionately ruffling yuji’s hair.

megumi couldn’t help but speak up. “she’s a married woman, you know,” he mutters to his friend.

yuji’s eyes widened,  “you’re kidding! who do you think got the honor?” 

“but she’s so young!” kugisaki exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. 

their discussion is cut short when the shoji doors of the classroom slide open abruptly.

with hands on your hips, you stood sternly before your first year students and their teacher, an air of authority about you.

satoru couldn't help but gulp; you were indeed captivating when you were upset. it’s not his fault that you look so cute when your eyebrows furrow and you puff up in anger.

“i waited for half an hour in the courtyard to start today’s lesson and yet here i find my students, along with their sensei who should be in kyoto for a meeting.” a wry smile graced your lips, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. the three first years bowed their heads in shame.

yuji thinks this is the first time he’s seen his teacher nervous. a bead of sweat appears on the side of gojo’s face.

“honey!” he quickly stands up and walks towards you. with every step he takes, nobara’s face scrunches up at his disgusting conduct. 

“don’t.” you warned, raising a finger up to keep satoru at an arm’s length. he respected your wishes to some extent, grasping your hand and placing it within the hold of his own. the diamond on your ring finger glistened as satoru toyed with it.

gasps filled the room as yuji and nobara observed the display of affection. just how inappropriate could their sensei get, and why were you allowing it? what would your husband think?

satoru tenderly caressed your hand in his, cradling it as he leaned in closer. “please forgive me; it was an honest mistake.”

“honest mistake my ass. yaga told me that this is the second meeting you’ve skipped out this month,” you stated, peering fiercely into his blindfolded eyes. satoru’s cocky demeanor wavered, replaced by a nervous chuckle.

“the first time was when i took you to naha, remember?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “and if i remember correctly, you enjoyed our night out,” your eyes widened, recalling the romantic trip satoru had organized. 

feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you attempted to pull away, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“forgive me?” his voice softened, lips curving downward, giving him the appearance of a dejected kitten.

a sigh escapes your lips. he was going to be the death of you.

“fine. but this is the last time,” you warned, “and you owe me for covering for you.”

satoru straightened up, nodding fervently. “have i mentioned how much i love you?” wrapping an arm around you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, despite your futile attempts to stop him.

“this is…” yuji’s jaw dropped.

“so inappropriate! shame on you!” nobara’s chair makes a harsh screech with how fast she leaves it to come to your aid. 

“kugisaki–” you attempted to calm her down, but she clung to your elbow, desperately trying to pry you from satoru’s embrace.

satoru’s hold on you tightened as he wrapped his other arm around your frame, pulling you close. he plops his chin on top of your head and resists nobara’s attempts to free you. like hell he’s letting anybody take his girl, not even his own student.

“crushing on a married woman is one thing, but to openly flirt with her– ” kugisaki struggled. you tilt your head in confusion. 

satoru’s strong arms flexed as he fought to maintain his hold on you. he nuzzled your neck. “’m fine right here,” he inhaled deeply, as if trying to take in as much of you as possible.

“[name] sensei! how can you stand there and let this man disrespect your marriage?!” nobara implored, wide-eyed, disregarding all respect she had for her teacher.  “how will your husband react when he finds how gojo sensei behaves around you?” she looks desperate, and you want to laugh at the sincerity behind her actions. you get it now.

only your idiot husband would pull a stunt like this.

“i hope your husband can fight because i’m willing to fight him to the death for your hand,” satoru mutters from your neck. you take your hand from nobara’s shoulders to shove the six-foot-three giant away.

“you seriously didn’t tell them, satoru?” you ignored his whiney protests as you created distance between the two of you. 

“tell us what?” kugisaki demanded. yuji was on the edge of his seat, nervously watching the unfolding scene, while megumi put his head down in embarrassment.

satoru looks at you with a deep frown on his face. uncertainty clouds your mind as his silence forebodes something. wetting his lips with his tongue, he quickly closed the gap between you, too fast for you to escape. a secure hand rested on your lower waist as your husband dipped you down to deepen the kiss. 

had you not been so absorbed into the kiss, you would have heard the scandalized gasps from your students.

you managed to place a hand on his chest to separate yourselves, “satoru, stop.” his eyes remained fixed on your lips, but he complied.

“yuji, nobara.. satoru and i are–” you hold up your ring finger for display.

“happily married!” your husband finished for you, a triumphant smile on his face. he squeezed you close, throwing up a peace sign. “been madly in love since i met her!” 

“what– no way! you pulled her?!” nobara spluttered, head whipping from satoru to you, unable to wrap her mind around the revelation.

yuji’s jaw is still on the floor, “megumi, you knew about this?!”

the sea urchin looks the other direction, avoiding his friends’ judgemental gazes.

“they… raised me.. sorta..” he mumbles under his breath. your heart melts at his confession. unlike you, the other first years don't take too kindly to his comment, as they start shaking him by the shoulder and starting their own interrogation.

“and we did a good job too! don’t you think we’re ready for our own?” satoru smiles down at you jokingly, his hands snaking around your waist and his hands sneaking onto your stomach. he leaves a couple of soft pats. 

“you’re cuter when you’re quiet, y’know?” you whispered. taking advantage of your students' attention on megumi, you place a single finger on his lips, hoping your husband does not notice the way your face feels like it is on fire. 

he does.

“no need to be shy now,” satoru said, grinning wolfishly, “we’ll continue this at home.”

your face flushes even deeper.

unbeknownst to you, the first years had fallen silent, observing how gojo whispered in your ear, successfully turning you into a flustered mess. perhaps they should give more credit to their sensei.

notes. not proof read (oh no). this was just a random scenario that has been plaguing my mind during halloweekend so i typed it on my phone at a party LOL this is me desperately trying to get out of my writing slump

[i-love-ptv]

Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On ˚̣̣ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣

Pairing: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Soccer-mom!Wife!Reader

It’s not easy being a soccer-mom, especially when dads hit on you at every game as if you’re not married to Rafe.

Wc: 1,596

Fluff, Protective Rafe making an appearance, kinda pushy guy (idk what to say)

An: I’ve really wanted to write a fic based on this song, and this idea randomly popped into my head so! Am I using the names I wanna name my kids? Yes, yes I am.

Not proofread tbh

Feedback always appreciated lovelies!! xx

“I’ll be back, ‘mkay doll?”

You hum in acknowledgement, eyes peering back at the field after looking up.

Your husband, Rafe leant down and places a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Yeahhh, Daddy’s gonna be back, baby.” Rafe coos at your two year old, who was sitting on your lap, babbling freely while peering at him with her big doe eyes.

Rafe walks off the bleachers; in search of the concession stand to buy food for the three of you.

You brush your hand over your young daughter’s head, making sure her somewhat oversized hat is still covering her head entirely. Her hand wraps around your index finger.

It was oddly humid today, if you continued moving, you’d break a slight sweat. You can't even imagine what your daughter -Stacy must be feeling, running around on the large grassy field under the beaming bright sun.

You were proud of your baby girl though, nonetheless. And so was Rafe, of course.

You shout loudly when you notice the game is about to start, bellowing out a “Go Stacy!”

Stacy’s eyes easily found yours, for you and Rafe would always sit in the same spot on the bleachers.

Her eyes were slightly wide due to your shout, despite you and Rafe always cheering for her during her games.

She’s motioning for you to ‘shh’, putting her fingers to her lips before getting into her position.

“Which one’s yours?” You hear to the left of you, the unknown voice makes you tear your eyes away from the field.

You smile shortly at the unfamiliar man next to you, “Number 22.”

You can’t help but notice how he’s rather scruffy looking, an odd contrast to your upkept husband with his neatly buzzed hair.

“Mine’s number 13.” He says, flashing his teeth at you.

You gasp and shoot up a little, making you look down at your daughter on your lap. “Valerie’s yours? Oh she’s just the sweetest!”

The man chuckles, looking deeply in your eyes. This makes your eyebrows raise, slightly in confusion, but mostly in discomfort.

He hadn’t done anything out of the norm, you’d randomly talk to the other moms around too, but something about him made you uncomfortable.

“My name's Brandon, and yours?”

You introduce yourself briefly, before turning back towards the game.

His eyes dart to your left hand, looking for a ring, for any indication that you belong to someone else. He smiles sharply when he finds your fingers bare. This goes unnoticed by you.

Little does he know, you do have your ring on, just around your neck.

Your biggest fear was your youngest accidentally pulling off your ring, resulting in you losing it. Or, even worse: it pokes her eye or something of that nature.

You suppose you could be considered a ‘Helicopter-mom’ at times, simply going to the extremes to make sure your kids are happy and healthy at every point in time.

Rafe is the exact same way, maybe even a little worse. But you knew he was just protective, he loves this life that he has with you, since he had no idea the two of you would’ve been together for so long.

You had started dating Rafe when you were 18 and he was 19. It was good for the first few months, disregarding the few arguments that you had. But then, you had caught Rafe doing cocaine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to shake the look on his face from your memory.

You weren’t supposed to be at the party, you said you were busy filling out college applications.

So when he was mid-line, and he saw you standing there all dolled up, watching him with glossy eyes, he felt his heart shatter into pieces.

You weren’t supposed to find out, he wanted to keep this away from you, to keep you close to him.

He promised that he would try and stay sober for you, but eventually he’d give in every time the opportunity was in front of him. This resulted in several arguments, and surprisingly, a break up.

But things are different now. You both are in your 30’s, you got married, and of course, had two beautiful babies together.

Rafe knew he’d be crazy to fuck things up now, when he has the perfect life right in front of him.

Speaking of which; you’re really starting to wonder what the hell is taking him so long just to get some goddamn hotdogs and drinks.

You’re bouncing your knee anxiously, which makes your daughter giggle. You wish she wasn’t finding this amusing, but you know she can’t help it.

“Well who’s this cute girl, huh?” The man coos, tickling your daughter’s side.

“Her name is Noelle.” You huff, your mood quickly shifting due to this stranger touching your daughter.

He lets out another chuckle, you wish you never had to hear it again. “Sounds like you’re quoting Teenage Dirtbag to me.”

You give him a pointed look, you’re really getting sick of his pestering. “That’s where I got it from.”

Abruptly, the crowd starts cheering madly. You look around and see Stacy's team celebrating briefly; they had just scored a goal.

You cheer and clap, grabbing Noelle’s chubby hands and making her raise her arms wildly while giggling with her.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could-” Before Brandon could finish his sentence, none other than Rafe Cameron comes stomping up the bleachers, huffing and puffing angrily.

He sits down and sighs, “God, I’m sorry babe. The line was so long! I swear I’m going grey right now.”

“And I missed the goddamn play!” Rafe exclaims. He looks over at you and immediately goes quiet once he sees those wide baby eyes that look at him curiously.

“Da?” Noelle mutters, reaching her tiny hands towards Rafe’s larger ones.

“Yeah. Da’s here babygirl, do you want your food? Huh sweet girl?”

Rafe hands you your food, setting his food aside so he can put Noelle in his lap. He begins to split half his hotdog in pieces for her.

You glance to the left, you notice Brandon looking like a fish out of water.

Rafe is the CEO of one of, if not the biggest business company around. And Brandon had just borderline harassed his wife, who was holding his child.

Brandon sneers at the two of you in silence while the game continues, nearly boiling at the fact that he couldn’t have you.

Your head is laying on Rafe’s shoulders, you’re rubbing circles on Noelle’s shoulder as she settles down.

“Everything alright babe?” Rafe asks, trying to peer down at your face.

You untuck your necklace with your wedding ring from your shirt, fiddling with it. “Yeah, now that you’re here Ray.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a few seconds.

“…What does that mean?”

You hesitate to answer, but you do regardless, “Nothing! It’s just uh..That guy next to me, was kinda like hassling me I guess.”

This makes Rafe straighten his back.

“He do somethin’ to you doll?” Rafe questions in a whisper. You know you have about 30 seconds to try and calm him down before he’s banned from every soccer game left in the season.

“No, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool. I need you to calm down Ray.”

Rafe’s nose is flaring, “What about Ellie? Did he touch her?”

You feel your throat closing up, your heart is damn near pounding out of your chest.

You don’t say anything to Rafe, but that look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know.

You grab his bicep, trying to keep him grounded. Even though he’s changed, some parts of him haven’t.

Rafe speaks lowly in your ear, but not too much to frighten you in any way. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Don’t worry y’pretty little head about it.”

Rafe presses a firm kiss against your cheek, then presses a softer one to your lips.

After 30 more minutes, and 2 more goals, Stacy’s team wins.

You and Rafe cheer loudly, letting out “That’s our baby girl!”

You meet Stacy at the bottom of the bleachers, holding Noelle in your hand as the littlest claps her hands between Stacy’s face.

You’re too busy congratulating your daughter to notice Rafe pulling Brandon aside while his daughter, Valerie is off talking to her friends.

Rafe puts a firm hand on his shoulder, “Hey man.”

Brandon lets out a nervous laugh, “Hey there, Rafe Cameron, right?”

“Yeah, let’s keep this short. I better not see or hear you talking to my wife again, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit what happened.”

Rafe continues shortly, “And keep your fucking hands to yourself, if I find out you touched my either of my daughters again, I swear to God himself I’ll put you under.”

The two men are holding eye contact, one looks with confidence and borderline rage, while the other looks with fear.

Rafe walks down the bleachers, meeting you and your girls.

“You were amazing out there sweetheart!” Rafe smiles while pulling Stacy into a bear hug.

“Jesus dad, you’re crushing me!” Stacy laughs with a slight wheeze.

Rafe ruffles her hair and puts his arm around your neck.

“All good to go?”

You nod your head, and with that, the four of you begin to walk to Rafe’s parked car.

Rafe realizes that this isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on at a soccer game, or anywhere in fact. And this definitely won’t be the last.

Cause everybody’s in love with Stacy’s mom.

[nezuscribe]

life as a hit man was dirty but simple, and gojo preferred keeping it that way. he didn’t know his clients names, they didn’t know his. he’d send over proof of his work, they’d wire in the money. dirty, yet simple.

so when he gets a message to kill the daughter of some oil tycoon, he doesn’t think much about it. sure he thinks it’s cheap to go for the kid, but what does he know. this is the most he’s ever been offered for a one shot job, so he’s not an idiot to turn this offer down.

and unfortunately, that meant his next confirmed target was you.

he gets your information, where you go to school, what apartment building you live in, where you like to eat. usually he prefers a straight shot to the head, but sometimes sneaking in something to your food lets him off easier.

gojo gets to know your routine. what you do at what time. what shows you watch, what your favorite sweater is. he watches from the high rises that faces yours, crouching down so none of your bodyguards could see the reflection of the magnifier of his rifle.

and gojo is used to taking out a wide range of people. men, women, grandpas, aunts. it’s just business to him. but there’s something about you that makes him hesitate to pull the trigger.

maybe it’s the fact that the weeks he’s spent trailing after you he’s noticed you’re pretty much a loner. you keep to yourself, never bothering anyone. you don’t seem to have my friends in your classes, or even out of them. gojo never questions to morals of his clients or who they ask him to kill, but judging you so far you seem to have done…nothing wrong.

you treat the old lady who works in the convenience story with such kindness that gojo wonders if you were born into this level of wealth, because most people of your status treat those beneath them like ants. you always hold the door open for your body guards despite them insisting they do it for you. you always buy some food for the stray cats in the alley you pass, and you never yell when you’re on the phone with your dad, even though gojo tracks those calls and feels the need to yell for you.

it all comes to a moment when you’re at your favorite coffee shop (he knows this because you come here so often), and you’ve managed to weasel away from your bodyguards. he knows they must be freaking out by now, but you just want some alone time.

he’s right there, right behind you, the little pouch of his condition of drugs that instantly kill in his pocket ready, and you turn around with your coffee cup and bump into him.

your eyes seen, letting out a shocked gasp as the iced drink stains his shirt and pants, the cup not empty on the floor.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter out, scrambling to find some napkins, “i’m so so sorry! i didn’t even see you there - gosh,” you shove some napkins into his hands, trying to dapple the coffee away but it does nothing to help, “i can’t believe…!” you trail off, the two of you moving out of line so you don’t hold the others up and your shaking your head in dismay, mad at your clumsiness.

“it’s alright,” he assures you, waving it off as his eyes take in your appearance. “don’t even worry about it, accidents happen.” it’s the first time he’s seen you this close, and he feels that pouch growing heavier in his pocket.

because you’re pretty. really pretty. and he likes the plush of your cheeks, the scrunch of your brows, the way you’re nearly gnawing your lip raw. you seem even prettier in person, and there’s a lump forming in his chest, something he’s never felt before.

“no, no,” you murmur, trying to find the tide pen in your bag, only to realize you left it at home, “and it’s stained too, fuck. i am so sorry about this, you probably have somewhere to be and…” your words trail off as you scramble for your wallet, pulling out some cash as you push it into his hands.

it’s more than he needs to replace the shirt and pants, probably enough to buy him a couple pairs from ralph lauren, but you still seem to think it’s not enough as you look for more.

“it’s no worries at all, i keep an extra of shirts in my car for emergencies like this,” gojo lies smoothly and you look up from your purse, eyes wide in shame. fuck he really likes your eyes too.

“no, please take it, it’ll be on my mind all day if you don’t,” you insist, but he’s shaking his head defiantly, a reassuring smile on his face as he hands the money back to you.

“and it’ll be on my conscience all day if i take it,” he promises you, and after you realize he’s not going to retract his hands you take the cash, shoving it back into your wallet as heat settles all over your body.

of course with your luck you spill coffee all over the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

you still look worried, finding another napkin as you take out a pen from your purse, messily writing something down.

“this is my contact information if you ever need me to replace your clothes,” you hand it over to the man with an apologetic smile, “please don’t hesitate to call me, i know stains and that’s gonna be really hard to get out,” you go to say something else but your eyes dart to the large windows behaubd him, catching sight of your body guards who seem to have seen you, and your face falls.

“i’m really sorry, again, but i have to go,” you mutter as you speed off, waving goodbyes to the stranger as you duck your head down and leave the coffee shop, not wanting to cause another scene as three buff men race in to find you.

gojo stands there almost in a haze, looking at his stained white shirt to the napkin with your number and name on it.

almost as if he didn’t already know it, almost as if you weren’t the girl he’s supposed to kill.

and in that moment he realizes how screwed he is, because he’d rather down that packet right there than shoot you down, and he’s never felt this dread before.

[fastandcarlos]

"Uncle Charles?" : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: for the first time charles feels as if he's part of your family, all thanks to your car obsessed niece

Your hand waved into the air as you noticed Charles appear in your parents’ garden, dressed still in bright red Ferrari after finishing for the day. There were children running around everywhere as you celebrated your niece’s birthday, with Charles appearing at the end of the day. 

Despite you assuring Charles that he didn’t need to worry about attending, he was adamant he was going to make the time. When he appeared, your family were more than surprised, knowing just how busy Charles had been as the start of the new season loomed. 

As Charles made his way over to you though, he was intercepted by a voice calling out his name, a figure running across and leaping up into his arms. Charles stumbled back as your niece leapt up and gave him a hug, her arms going tightly around his neck as Charles held onto her waist, carrying her over to where you sat. 

“Happy birthday cherie,” Charles grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You look like you’re having a good time,” he added, taking a look around the garden. 

“I was waiting for you to arrive,” she excitedly told him. 

As Charles sat down beside you, he placed your niece back onto the ground, but she refused to let him go. With her still holding on, he leant across and pressed a kiss to your cheek to try and greet you, but your niece was having none of it. 

“Did training go well?” You asked, unable to hold back your laughter as your niece invited herself to sit up in Charles’ lap, ignoring her friends who were calling for her to play with them. 

The bond that Charles had with your niece had always been close ever since they first met. He was beyond amazing with her, which your sister was particularly a big fan of, finding herself getting giddy whenever Charles was around, never quite being able to leave him alone for too long. 

“Yeah, for once, it actually went pretty well,” Charles smiled, his voice filled with relief after what could only be described as a tricky build into the preseason preparations. 

As he sat with your family though, he was reminded about what was important. As much as he wanted the car to do well, what mattered the most was the people around him, particularly the little one in his lap who was over the moon to be able to spend her birthday with him. 

“I’m happy that you managed to make it here though,” you told him, keeping your eyes on your niece, “and I think I know someone else who is pretty happy to have you here too.” 

If he was honest, Charles wouldn’t have missed it for the world, although your niece wasn’t on his side of the family, he still absolutely adored her. He wasn’t blind to how close they were too, knowing that she was counting on him to show up for her. 

“What’s been the highlight of your day princess?” Charles asked as your niece shifted to look up at him, her hands cupping against his cheeks. “There’s got to be one present that you can’t wait to show me later on tonight.” 

Her head nodded, turning round to face Charles properly again. “My favourite present is your present that you bought me,” she proudly told him, recalling the Ferrari car that you’d bought her, well, a child sized one at least. 

Charles’ smile turned up as she spoke, “I had a feeling that you’d like it. Maybe I can try and get some Ferrari clothes for you so that you can look the part too.” 

Your niece nodded instantly, “I want to be just like Uncle Charles, that would be awesome.” 

Your eyes flickered across to Charles, making sure that he was listening to. A gasp came from him, his eyes lighting up as he took a moment to make sure that he wasn’t just dreaming what he had heard. 

“Want to be like who?” Charles asked her, wanting to hear it one more time to make sure that he was correct. “Who is it that you want to be the same as?” 

“Uncle Charles,” she giggled, “I want to be able to drive really fast when I’m older and drive all of the cool cars.” 

“Uncle Charles,” Charles whispered to himself, “well, that’s pretty cool.” 

You reached across and pressed your hand against Charles’ shoulder to try and keep him together, sensing that he was feeling slightly overwhelmed. Your niece was unaware of what she had done, but hearing her finally call him uncle meant more to Charles then he could ever express. 

“I’m going to go and ask mummy if I can play with the car soon,” your niece told you both, climbing out of Charles’ lap. “I want you to show me how to do it before you go home so I can be as fast as you.” 

Charles helped her down before shifting his body to look around at you, letting go of a chuckle of disbelief. You smiled widely across at him, nudging against Charles’ arm gently. 

“You must be pretty important for her to call you uncle,” you told him, brushing your hand through his hair. “She absolutely adores you Charles, apparently you’ve got your own mini me in the future already too.” 

“She’s a good kid,” Charles hummed, still slightly in disbelief. “I’m trying to be chill about this, but inside my heart is absolutely racing right now.” 

You could tell from the look in his eyes that it meant the world to Charles, your family were all special to him, but the children in your family were a little more. He loved being around them, entertaining them and making them smile, which he seemed to do perfectly. 

“It sounds like I’ve got to find a pretty good present for next year too,” he chuckled, “do you think your sister might hate me for buying her a Ferrari?” 

“I dread to think the state her house will be in soon,” you sniggered. 

As guilty as Charles wanted to feel, seeing how excited your niece was about her gift made it all worth it for him. “I might have to go and apologise otherwise she’ll never speak to me again.” 

“Well, you’ve definitely won the competition for best present this year,” you joked, slipping your hand into his. “She won’t be mad at you for too long anyway, she adores you, my whole family do to be honest.” 

“They’re awesome,” Charles encouraged, “I’ve never known a group of people to make me feel so welcome in my life, I feel like I’ve always been here with you guys.” 

“Now you’ve got no choice but to be stuck with us too.” 

“I’m not complaining,” Charles noted, pulling you up from where you sat, twirling you around and letting you fall into his lap. Charles’ arms wrapped around your frame, allowing you to replace your niece in his hold. 

“Seems you’ve got a future as a driver coach too.” 

Charles’ head shook, unable to hide his excitement, knowing that over the next few days whilst he was home he’d be out playing with your niece, showing her the ropes of the new car that he’d bought her. 

“How does it feel to officially be an uncle?” You grinned, pressing a kiss against Charles’ cheek. 

“It feels pretty special indeed.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[luvismenu]

their first time fucking —

⋆˚࿔ fuckboy!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ extra ࣪ ִֶָ☾. written, nsfw

series m.list

♡ — permanent taglist: @https-mei @blaricee @blluee28 @jkvias @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @wnteraezz @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg @elinaki92 @sweetmimosa28

“are you sure about this?”

“yes, like i said, go slo— i told you to go slow jungkook!”

“oh fuck-”

“you ruined it!!!” you exclaim as you watch jungkook lose a game that the two of you have been playing for the last 30 minutes. well, he's the one playing and you're kind of.. helping.

you wanted to play, but he insisted he wanted to play alone because you're a 'nerd' and couldn't play as well as he could—which earned him a smack on the head from you.

“i told you, you have to wait until the monster appears,” you huff, and he slumps back into the couch.

“okay, expert, whatever,” he shrugs.

“yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes.

jungkook relaxes into the couch, his head thrown back as he groans, “where is this mother fu—”

ding!

“i think you got a text,” you say, glancing at his phone on the small table beside the couch.

“oh, you think so?” he mocks, and you glare him.

hoseok invited you for your usual study session. normally, you both would go to the library or the café he likes, which you didn't mind. today, though, he said he wanted to study at his frat house because it would just be the two of you.

and you couldn't miss a chance like that now would you?

but when you arrived, hoseok was nowhere to be found, and it was jungkook who let you in.

what a fun way to find out that all the fuckboys live in the same house.

jungkook told you that the other members were out doing what they usually do—things you'd rather not know about.

and now, you're just waiting for hoseok to come back.

“oh... okay,” jungkook says aloud as he sets his phone aside, turning to you.

“was it him? is he coming?” you ask.

“nah, he's getting wasted with the others, probably won't be back until.. i don't know, early morning i guess?” jungkook replies, “oh and i told him you were here. he said he's sorry that he forgot and told me to tell you to go home safe.”

you sulk at his words.

he notices.

“he... forgot?” you ask, your voice dropping.

“that's what he said. if you don't believe me, you can take my phone and see his texts.”

“no, no, i mean...” you sigh. “uh sorry, i should get going then.”

you stand up, grabbing your bag. but before you can take a step forward, jungkook speaks up.

“we can play another game if you want.”

you look at him. he holds up his controller, placing the second one beside him.

“together.”

“i am tired,” he groans, throwing the controller onto the couch as he walks toward the kitchen and you follow him.

“for a fuckboy, you have less stamina,” you joke.

“i was studying the whole day—”

you raise a brow.

“i know, yeah me, studying?? woah, impossible!!” he mocks himself, then continues more seriously, “trust me, i study.”

he grabs a can of beer from the fridge and closes it. “sometimes.”

you can't help but scoff a laugh.

“you don't have to explain yourself,” you say, crossing your arms as he takes a sip of the beer before responding.

“i know, but it's you i’m talking to, so—”

“what do you mean, me?”

he tilts his head. “aren't we friends?”

“yeah?”

he smiles. “then i gotta prove that i’m not as bad as you think i am.”

“i don't—”

“you do.”

you think for a second and sigh. “i do.”

that makes both of you chuckle.

“i think i should go now, it's getting late,” you tell jungkook, glancing at the clock on the wall. you walk toward the door, and he follows you.

“thank you for the ice cream,” you say, referring to the treat you had a few minutes ago.

“it's okay, it wasn't mine anyway,” he shrugs, and you gasp.

“what the fuck, why did you let me eat it then?”

“relax! it’s hoseok's. he wouldn't mind since he literally ditched you tonight,” he says, then realizes how it sounds as he sees the change in your expression. “i didn't mean—”

“no, it's okay. he did kind of ditch me, but it doesn't really matter. i can meet him some other time.” you smile, trying to ease the awkwardness.

you're kinda rethinking about getting fucked by him anyway.

“right...” he trails off.

you both stand there for a moment, the silence stretching between you before he breaks it.

“so, i guess i'll text— mmph.” and you do it again. you cut him off just like when you first met him, but this time, the kiss lasts longer.

“w-wait,” he breathes out as he pulls back, staring at you. “you wanna fuck?”

“well, i don't know—”

“why did you kiss me then?” he asks

you look at him. why did you kiss him?

because hoseok isn't available? no.

because you're desperate? ... you're not sure.

“i don't know…” you finally say.

he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“i just wanted to,” you add, and he's visibly surprised.

“is that wrong?” you continue, your eyes searching his.

jungkook's gaze softens. “no,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his voice barely a whisper. “but you don't like fuckboys and also we're friends—”

“yes, but tonight's different.” you say, reaching out to tug him back towards you, “you know, like a one time thing.”

he raises an eyebrow, his voice uncertain. “so, you wanna fuck and then wake up tomorrow like nothing happened? like we didn't do anything?”

you roll your eyes. “if you keep talking, we really won't do anything.”

“okay then final question, answer this with a yes or no” he says, his tone teasingly demanding, almost childish, and it makes you scoff a laugh.

“what?”

he smirks.

“wanna fuck?”

you smirk back.

“yes.”

───────── the wall ─────────

“o-oh fuck, jungkook, yes!” you moan out, your fingers tangled in his hair. his head is buried between your thighs, which are wrapped tightly around his neck. your hips are lifted, your back pressed against the wall as he stays on his knees.

he's been tongue-fucking you for a few minutes now, and you can feel yourself reaching the edge.

“mm, you taste so sweet.” he laps at your clit, sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth before releasing it with a pop. “i could eat this pretty cunt all day long.”

without warning, you cum on his mouth, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure course through you.

he swallows it all, his tongue still working on your sensitive pussy, making you squirm and whimper from the overstimulation.

slowly, he stands up as lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he keeps you pressed against the wall, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he looks at you as you're gasping for air, that cocky grin forming on his lips.

“you want me forreal.”

“are you kidding me? right now?” you can't believe he's saying that after you just came so hard. but maybe it’s because of the orgasm, because instead of getting annoyed, you find yourself laughing a little.

“you came so much so i—” you cut him off with a kiss, your lips crashing onto his as you taste yourself, sucking on his tongue to shut him up.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours.

“what's next, darling?”

───────── the floor ─────────

“t-that tickles,” you giggle when you feel jungkook softly rubbing your waist while his tongue laps at your right nipple.

“my tongue?” he asks, his eyes looking up at you as he moves to kiss your left nipple. you're both sprawled on the floor, his hands moving up and down your body as he hovers over you.

“your hands,” you gasp softly, taking in the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“mmh,” he hums as his hands slide up, grabbing both of your breasts, squeezing them gently. you arch your back slightly when he squeezes them together, and he buries his face between them, licking and nipping at the soft flesh.

“can i suck your dick?” you say quickly, almost before thinking, and it makes jungkook pull back, looking at you in surprise. he clearly wasn’t expecting that.

“you wanna?” he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“why do you look so surprised? never got your dick sucked before?” you joke, a grin forming on your lips as you see the stunned look on his face.

he rolls his eyes at you, his lips curving into a smirk. it's funny because it's usually you who’s rolling your eyes at him.

“just making sure,”

───────── the couch ─────────

“y-you're doing so good, f-fuck,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you choke and drool on his cock. you're on your knees, gripping his thighs while he sits naked on the couch, his cock in your mouth.

his head falls back as he moans, and he bucks his hips up just slightly, pushing deeper into your throat.

he fucking loves this.

“mmfph-” you let out a muffled sound as your eyes start to water. he looks down at you, taking in the sight of you on your knees for him, your lips stretched around his length. reaching out, he wipes away a tear, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your cheek, his touch oddly tender given the situation.

“that's it, darling. you're being such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath but enough for you to hear. “sucking my cock and looking at me like that... you look so fucking pretty.”

you pull back just slightly, taking a quick breath before diving right back in. your head bobs up and down, your tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, taking him as deep as you can. each time you do, he lets out a low groan, his abs tightening.

“oh fuck, i'm close,” he grunts, his grip on your hair loosening and you pull back.

“can i-” he starts to ask, but you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and he curses under his breath.

he strokes himself a few times, his breath hitching, and then he releases, hot ropes of cum spilling onto your tongue. you keep your mouth open, letting him see before swallowing it all, licking him clean until there's nothing left. once you're done, you pull away, giving him a proud smile.

he chuckles, shaking his head slightly, clearly amused by your behavior.

“you're not what i expected,”

───────── bed ─────────

“did you fuck anyone here before?” you ask as you look at jungkook between your legs. your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and your back pressed against the softness of his bed.

“no,” he says simply as he reaches over to grab a condom. “i don't bring girls here.”

“why not?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“because i'm never alone,” he explains, tearing the packet open with ease.

“but we're alone right now,” you point out, watching every one of his movements.

“i was supposed to go out with hoseok and the others, but i was tired, remember? so i stayed in. and honestly, i'm glad i did that.” he rolls the condom onto his length.

you smack his shoulder playfully, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“now, are you really sure about this?” he asks, his hands gently gripping your hips, holding you steady.

“for the tenth time, yes, i am,” you respond, “like i said, it’s a one-time thing,” you remind him.

he gives a small nod, then grabs his cock, rubbing the tip along your wet folds, making you whimper at the feeling.

“just fucking put it in,” you breathe out,

he grins, leaning down just a bit closer. “say please, darling,”

“if you think i’m gonna beg for it, think again,” you say, your eyes narrowing at him.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “so bossy,” he mutters, and then, without further delay, he pushes his cock into you.

“f-fuck..” you bite down on your lower lip, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel him stretching you. the fullness is almost overwhelming, but there's a hint of pleasure there, building slowly.

he pauses for a moment, his gaze searching your face. “you okay, darling?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“y-yeah,” you manage to say, breathing heavily. “it feels... bigger than i expected,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly.

his grin widens at that, and he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm. normally, you'd have some sassy comeback for that look on his face, but right now, it feels too good to say anything at all.

no wonder women love him.

you came once.

“fuck— nngh y-yes!!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming as your body trembles around him.

“oh my go— i am— fuck!” jungkook moans, his head falling back onto the pillow as you ride him, your hips bouncing on his cock.

twice.

“you like that, hm? you like getting your pussy fucked from behind?” his voice is a growl as he grips your ass, pounding into you relentlessly. you’re on all fours, your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. tears well up at the edges of your eyes, the pleasure bordering on too much, but you don’t want him to stop.

make it a third time.

“fuck..”

jungkook groans as he collapses onto the bed, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes closed. exhaustion drips from his voice as he mumbles, “you’re such a freak.”

you sit beside him, still naked, your fingers lightly tracing patterns over his chest. “one more round?” you suggest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “yeah, right.”

you tilt your head, raising a brow at him, your expression almost challenging.

his eyes widen just a bit. “oh, you’re serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

you nod, shrugging slightly. “how are you not tired?” he breathes out, his voice laced with disbelief.

“i can take some more, i guess,” you say casually, though the glint in your eyes betrays your eagerness.

“i am sorry to disappoint, darling, but i think i am done for tonight.” he lets out a tired sigh, and he sees you pout.

“woah,” he murmurs, watching the way your lips form into a cute little pout. it’s endearing. he’s seen so many sides of you tonight—and now... this.

cute and.. whiny?

“pleaseee, jungkook, one more time!!” you whine, your voice soft and pleading, making his heart skip a beat.

he blinks, like he’s just seeing a new part of you, something he never expected. maybe it’s the endorphins, or just the moment—whatever it is, this side of you is cute, almost innocent in your need.

he likes it.

“how about this,” he says, a grin forming on his lips, “we take a shower, and maybe we can go for another round there, hm?”

“shower sex?” you ask.

he nods.

“no, it’s unsafe,” you respond immediately, shaking your head.

he sighs dramatically, his grin widening. “well then, no more sex for tonight,” he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “maybe some other night.”

you roll your eyes, huffing. “you wish”

he chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“i do.”

a/n: i hope it's not too confusing 😣

[goldfades]

HAUNTED BY YOU──FATHER MAYHEW

part two!!!!!!!!

─ summary | father mayhew is being tormented by dreams of a worshiper at the church, who appears both angelic and temptingly sinful in his visions. as the dreams grow more intense, he begins to wonder if they’re a sign from above or a test of his faith. when you confront him, father mayhew must choose between maintaining his distance or giving in to the passion that’s been haunting him

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut! mdni! wet dreams (strong start! i know!), description of self-pleasuring, oral (m!receiving), heavy degradation,hair-pulling, just overall rough sex, orgasm denial

─ ev's notes | like everyone and their damn mom, i've fell under nicholas's damn curse and i just had to come back to tumblr for this very self-indulgent fic. this is just porn with a lot plot LMAOOO. BUTTTTT my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO)

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

Father Charlie had always believed in the purity of dreams.

They were, in his mind, the unfiltered whispers of God—or at least, they had been. Lately, those whispers had been replaced by something far more sinful, and the dreams that used to bring him peace now left him gasping for air, tangled in sheets soaked with guilt and lust.

It started a few weeks ago, innocently enough.

You—a devout presence in the church, never missing a Sunday mass—had always caught his eye, but only in the way a shepherd might glance over his flock. He admired the way they knelt at the altar, the reverence in your bowed head, the delicate movements as you lit a candle in prayer. He told himself it was only admiration. But then the dreams began.

At first, they were fleeting images: your hands, fingers brushing over rosary beads, your doe eyes glancing up at him, lingering just a moment too long. He could dismiss them as nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him, the remnants of a long day.

But the dreams grew more vivid, more demanding. He saw you standing in the chapel late at night, a halo of moonlight casting a soft glow over your features, and when you turned to him, your gaze held something more than devotion. Something in between desperation and lust, something that was pure filth.

Charlie would wake in the dead of night, his chest tight with guilt and desire. He’d slip out of bed and kneel before the small wooden cross in his room, praying for guidance, praying for strength. But no matter how many Hail Marys he whispered into the darkness, the dreams persisted.

And now, they were getting worse.

Tonight, the dream came again, but this time, it was sharper—too real. You stood before him, just as you did every Sunday, but there was no congregation. Just the two of you, alone in the quiet sanctity of the church. He could hear your breathing, could feel the weight of your presence as they stepped closer, your fingers grazing over his. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as they looked up at him with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of eternity.

"Father," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with something dangerous, something that made the blood in his veins run hot.

He wanted to look away, wanted to pull his hand back, but he couldn’t. Instead, he stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as you moved closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. You reached up, their fingers brushing lightly across his cheek, and he felt a shudder pass through him—half desire, half longing.

"Why do you run from this?" you asked, your voice a low murmur that echoed in the stillness of the church. "Why do you run from me?"

He swallowed thickly, words catching in his throat as he tried to speak. "This isn’t… I can’t…"

But before he could finish, you pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a touch so gentle it felt like a caress. "You don’t have to speak," you whispered. "You already know the answer."

With that, you kissed him—soft at first, almost testing, as if waiting for him to push you away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he felt himself melting into the kiss, his resolve crumbling as you deepened it, your hands sliding over his chest, pushing aside the fabric of his cassock. The feel of their touch was electric, every nerve in his body alive with sensation as they explored his skin, your fingers leaving trails of fire wherever they roamed.

"Please..." he heard himself whisper, though he wasn’t sure if he was begging them to stop or to continue. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as desire overwhelmed him

Your lips traveled down his neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and Charlie groaned despite himself, his hands moving of their own accord to grasp your hips, pulling them closer. You pressed against him, and he could feel the softness of your body against his, the intoxicating scent of your familiar perfume filling his senses.

He knew this was wrong. He knew he should stop, should pull away and regain control of himself, but he couldn’t. His mind was clouded with lust, his body betraying him completely as your hands continued their exploration, your touch driving him to the brink of madness.

"Let go," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you slid a hand lower, your touch eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. The pleasure was overwhelming, surging through him like a wave as you stroked him, you movements slow and deliberate, coaxing him closer and closer to the edge.

Charlie’s grip on the altar tightened as he felt himself losing control, his body trembling with the force of his desire. He wanted more, needed more, and you seemed all too willing to give it to him, your lips pressing against his once again as your hand moved faster, pushing him closer and closer to release.

When it came, it was like an explosion of heat and pleasure, washing over him in waves that left him gasping for breath. He clung to you, his body shuddering with the intensity of it all, his mind spinning in a haze of ecstasy and guilt.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

Charlie woke with a start, gasping for breath, his body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. His heart raced, pounding violently in his chest as the remnants of the dream clung to him, vivid and inescapable. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to shake the images from his mind, but they lingered—soft touches, whispered words, the sensation of heat curling through him in ways it shouldn’t.

It had been more than a dream. It was more sinful, more explicit, and far too real. His skin still burned from where you had touched him, your hands roaming over his body with an intimacy that made his chest tighten with guilt. His throat was dry, aching, but not with thirst—no, with something far deeper and darker.

"God," he muttered, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Please..."

He shifted under the blankets, feeling the undeniable evidence of his arousal—a sickening reminder of what had transpired in the dream. Shame washed over him like a cold tide, dousing the warmth that had gripped him so fiercely only moments ago. He didn’t dare move, his entire being consumed by regret and disgust.

He couldn't believe he came from the mere thought of you. It was sickening—he felt like a teenager all over again. How could he have let this happen? How could his mind, his very body, betray him like this?

Your face flickered in his mind again—those eyes, filled with longing and desire, the way you had smiled at him, that wicked, knowing grin. It hadn’t been innocent, not in the least. You had touched him in ways he had never been touched in a while, ways he wasn’t supposed to experience again.

He threw back the covers, the cool air in the room hitting his overheated skin as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and for a moment, he simply sat there, head in his hands, struggling to regain some semblance of control.

A priest wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to be consumed by desire, least of all for someone so... unattainable. Someone who had come to him for guidance, for spiritual comfort, not for whatever this had been.

He stood, shaking, the cold of the room biting into him. He needed to calm himself, to pray, to wash away the evidence of his sin.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the dream. Couldn’t forget the way it had felt—the warmth, the pleasure, the ache of it all.

Father Charlie whispered a desperate prayer under his breath as he padded to the bathroom. As the water ran cold over his skin, he prayed again for strength—for a release from this burden that had taken hold of him.

But deep down, the fear gnawed at him: what if this wasn’t the last time? What if he wasn't strong enough to resist?

He shivered at the thought.

──

Father Charlie stood by the doorway of the church hall, his gaze sweeping over the room. The sounds of children’s laughter and the murmur of conversations filled the air as parents and volunteers mingled. It was a typical event—one that should’ve had his attention focused on the joyful chaos before him

But his focus was elsewhere.

You sat at a table on the far side of the room, your attention seemingly on the children around you, but there was an unmistakable shift in the air between the two of you. His eyes kept being drawn back to you, despite his efforts to look elsewhere, to find something—anything—that might distract him from the growing heat in his chest and the tightness in his pants.

Then, you slipped the bright red lollipop between your lips, the movement slow, deliberate, and utterly intoxicating. It was a seemingly innocent gesture, one that any onlooker might dismiss, but Charlie saw it for what it was—a silent taunt, a temptation that you knew he couldn’t tear his gaze from.

His throat tightened as he watched you, your eyes flicking up to meet his, a playful glint dancing behind them. You held his gaze as you swirled the candy in your mouth, the exaggerated motion sending a jolt of excitement and heat straight through him. It was subtle enough to avoid drawing attention from anyone else, but the intent behind it was clear.

You were tempting him. And he knew it.

Charlie clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the back of a nearby chair. He felt torn between his duty—his responsibility to maintain control, to be the figure of moral guidance he was supposed to be—and the way his body reacted to you, the way desire simmered just beneath his skin.

You smirked around the lollipop, letting it slip slowly from your mouth before you spoke to the child beside you, your voice light and innocent. But your eyes remained locked on his for a beat longer, the unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Father Charlie turned away quickly, trying to suppress the fire burning through him. He felt as though he were in a battle with himself—a war between the man he was and the desires that he struggled to keep buried. His mind raced with guilt, knowing that this tension—this attraction—was something he should never indulge.

But when he glanced back at you, and saw the way your plump lips wrapped around the candy once more, his breath caught in his throat. The world around him—the event, the children, the laughter—seemed to blur into the background as you continued to play this dangerous game.

Every gesture, every glance, felt like a carefully orchestrated tease, one that made it impossible for him to look away, even though he knew he should.

Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest, the temptation pulling at him stronger than it had ever been before. He couldn’t let this go on, he told himself. He needed to leave, to step away before he lost control entirely.

But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to walk away, the sight of you sitting there, sucking on that lollipop with a mischievous glint in your eye, held him captive.

He let out a sigh, feeling his pants tighten once more. He glanced down, there was a noticeable bulge poking out.

With a sharp inhale, he tore his gaze away from you and pushed himself toward the nearest exit, keeping his movements as natural as he could manage. His skin burned with shame as he walked, the feeling of his pants tightening only making his predicament worse. He kept his head low, praying no one would stop him on his way out.

Or worse, see the issue at hand.

The corridor leading to the church bathrooms was mercifully empty, the laughter and conversations fading behind him as he moved quickly toward the door marked Men. His steps were hurried, and by the time he reached the bathroom, his breath was ragged.

Charlie shoved the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind him. He leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as he tried to collect himself. His reflection in the mirror showed a man torn between the roles he was meant to fulfill and the raw human desire threatening to break through.

The bulge in his pants hadn’t lessened, and the sight of it brought another wave of heat crashing over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would block out the image of you, teasing and playful, with that lollipop in your mouth.

The temptation was too much, and he hated himself for it.

He couldn't think about you. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the way your lips had moved, or the sly glint in your eyes, or the overwhelming desire that had burned in the pit of his stomach. He needed to focus. To rid himself of this unbearable need before it consumed him entirely.

With shaking hands, Charlie fumbled at his belt, a silent prayer escaping his lips, though he doubted any words of faith could cleanse the guilt twisting inside him now. He fought to keep his mind blank, but the image of you kept resurfacing—your teasing smile, your suggestive glances, the way your mouth had played with that lollipop as if you knew exactly what it was doing to him.

His breath hitched as he unzipped his pants, his mind waging a losing battle against his body's demands. This wasn’t what he wanted—not really—but the heat, the tension, the pressure… it was all too much. He felt helpless, lost in a battle he had no hope of winning.

He cursed under his breath as his hand moved over the fabric, the friction both a release and a deepening source of guilt. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep silent, though the shame only made his body more desperate for relief. It wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, a chaotic mix of guilt, desire, and the thrill of crossing a line he had vowed never to approach.

His thoughts flickered back to the church hall, imagining you sitting there, your eyes still locked on his, your lips still playing that dangerous game. But instead of the lollipop, it was his cock instead. You were looking up at him with those doe eyes, the ones he could never get enough of.

This was wrong—so terribly wrong—but in this moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

A strangled sigh escaped him as the tension inside built toward its inevitable conclusion. His movements became more frantic, his mind clouded with both desire and self-loathing. He fought to suppress the groan rising in his throat, his body betraying him as he sought the release he knew would come all too quickly.

But before he could cum, he heard a knock. His eyes snapped open, his body shaking. But his movements didn't falter.

"Taken!" He groaned out, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Father, it's me."

Charlie froze, his entire body going rigid at the sound of your voice. The very voice that had been the cause of his torment—the one that filled his thoughts during long, sleepless nights, and echoed in his mind during moments of prayer. Hearing it now, so close, made his stomach lurch with guilt and panic.

His hands were still trembling, his sticky arousal refusing to dissipate even as the cold wave of reality crashed down on him. He bit down on his lip, heart racing, his mind screaming at him to pull himself together. But the fact that you were standing just beyond the door, oblivious to the storm you'd stirred within him, made it impossible for him to think straight.

"Father?" your voice called again, this time with a soft, almost innocent lilt that twisted the knife deeper.

He swallowed hard, forcing his breathing to steady, though the heat in his chest hadn’t faded. His hand hovered over his zipper, shaking with the shame of what he had been doing just moments before. His body still ached with unresolved tension, but he pushed it down, trying to ignore the unbearable need that still pulsed through him.

"Yes?" His voice cracked as he finally spoke, hoarse and raw. He cleared his throat, trying to sound composed. "I... I’m a little busy at the moment."

There was a brief pause from the other side of the door, and he could almost imagine the look on your face—the innocent expression you always wore, one that belied the way you had been teasing him, testing him for weeks. You had to know what you were doing. There was no other explanation for it.

"Sorry, Father," you replied, your voice apologetic, but with that familiar hint of playfulness that made his pulse quicken. "I just... I wanted to talk to you. Is everything alright? You sounded a bit... off. You just ran off, and I was worried."

Worried? You knew damn well what you were doing.

His heart hammered in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to respond, especially when he could still feel the tightness in his pants, the shameful evidence of his struggle with temptation. He couldn’t let you see him like this. Not after what he had almost done. No, not almost—what he had done.

"I’m fine," he replied, the words rushing out too quickly. "Just—just give me a moment, please."

There was silence on the other side, and Father Charlie closed his eyes, cursing himself under his breath. He knew he needed to calm down, to suppress the lingering arousal that still throbbed through him, but it was nearly impossible with you standing just beyond the door, your voice echoing in his mind, a constant reminder of the desires he could no longer ignore.

"Okay, Father," you said after a long pause, your tone gentle, yet still laced with that underlying tease. "I’ll wait for you outside."

As soon as you spoke, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, his body slumping against the sink in a mixture of frustration and shame. He could still feel the tension coiled tightly in his core, but he had to ignore it now—had to push it down and find some semblance of control before he faced you.

Charlie adjusted his clothes quickly, forcing himself to focus on anything but the ache that still pulsed through him. He wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his collar, and took a long, deep breath.

The door was still locked, but knowing you were just outside filled him with dread and anticipation in equal measure. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could withstand the temptation you had placed in front of him, but for now, he had to pretend. He had to keep up the façade of control, even as the cracks in his resolve grew deeper by the day

With one final glance in the mirror, Father Charlie steeled himself and turned the lock, pulling the door open to face the very source of his downfall.

And there you were, standing just a few feet away, your eyes wide and innocent—though he knew better than to believe it was all innocence. You were a temptation he could barely resist, and every interaction only pulled him further into the darkness he'd been desperately trying to avoid.

"Is everything alright, Father?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, that sweet, familiar smile on your lips. But your eyes—those teasing eyes—held a glimmer that set his heart racing once more.

"Y-yes," he stammered, his throat tight, doing everything in his power to keep his voice steady. "Everything’s fine."

But as you looked up at him, your gaze lingering just a moment too long, Father Charlie knew this battle was far from over.

Your eyes glanced down at his pants, his bulge evident. Your eyebrows rose as you blinked up at him, the same teasing smile on your plump lips. "You don't look fine, Father."

The way you said his title almost made his knees buckle. He couldn't handle it, not anymore. "What do you think?" He snapped.

Your teasing smile widened, clearly pleased by the crack in Father Charlie's composure. His words, harsh and unsteady, only seemed to encourage you. You took a small step closer, the space between you shrinking as the tension in the air thickened, palpable and dangerous.

"What do I think?" you repeated, your voice soft and sweet, but laced with a knowing edge that sent another jolt through him. "I think you’ve been struggling, Father. I can see it in your eyes… feel it in the way you look at me."

He clenched his jaw, fists balling at his sides. Every instinct screamed for him to shut this down, to end the conversation and walk away before he did something he could never take back. But the heat burning in his chest, the tightness in his pants, and the way you gazed up at him with those teasing, taunting eyes made it impossible for him to think clearly.

His breath hitched, his throat tightening as he tried to keep his voice level, to maintain the last threads of control he still had. "You... need to leave," he muttered through gritted teeth, though the command sounded more like a plea. He took a step back, trying to put distance between you, but his back hit the wall, trapping him in a corner.

You didn’t follow him, but your eyes stayed locked on his, your lips parting ever so slightly as you spoke again. "Do you want me to leave, Father?" you asked, your voice dripping with temptation, your tone making it clear you knew the answer before he could even speak.

He opened his mouth to respond, to say yes, to do what he knew was right, but the words wouldn’t come. His body betrayed him, still trembling with the aftermath of the temptation he had barely controlled just moments ago. The guilt twisted deeper in his chest, but with you standing there, so close, so dangerous, he couldn’t bring himself to push you away.

You took another small step forward, your eyes flicking down once more to the bulge straining against his pants. "You don’t look like you want me to go," you murmured, your voice low and intimate.

The way you said it, so confidently, so calmly, broke something inside him. His breathing quickened, the shame mixing with desire in a way that left him dizzy and unable to think straight. His hands itched to reach out, to grab you, to pull you closer, but he forced them to stay at his sides, his knuckles white from the effort of holding back.

"Fuck," he got out before he finally grabbed your wrist. "You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?"

You didn't respond, just stared back at him with a smirk. "What you mean—"

"Shh, shut up. Just shut up," Father Charlie got out as his grip on your wrist tighten. He looked around the empty corridors and pulled you into the bathroom, practically pushing you into it. He slammed the door behind him, locking it.

The slam of the door echoed through the small bathroom, the sound sharp and final. Father Charlie stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he fought to keep a grip on himself. The small, dimly lit space felt suffocating, the walls closing in as the tension between you thickened, charged with unspoken desire.

You leaned back against the sink, your expression still playful, teasing, as if you held all the power in this twisted game. And maybe you did. You watched him, your smirk never fading, as his eyes darkened with lust, the lines between what was right and what he wanted blurring faster than he could stop them.

"Father," you whispered, your voice lilting, almost mocking as it dripped with the weight of temptation. "We really shouldn't—"

"I told you to shut up," he growled, cutting you off. His voice was rough, raw with the conflict tearing him apart. But his body betrayed him, his hands trembling as he reached out, fingers wrapping around your arm with a grip that was both desperate and unsteady.

For weeks, he had tried to deny it—to push down the thoughts, the fantasies, the overwhelming pull of desire you had stirred within him. But now, standing here with you, the air thick with temptation, he felt like a man on the edge of a cliff, teetering between control and the abyss.

"Do you think this is a game?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, though you could hear the tremor beneath it. He stepped closer, towering over you, his body radiating heat. "Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? The looks, the way you talk to me, the way you… tease me?"

You met his gaze, unflinching, your smile widening. "Maybe it is a game," you said softly, tilting your head, eyes dancing with mischief. "But you’re the one who's playing along."

His grip tightened, his breath hitching as your words sank in. He hated how true they were. Every time he had looked at you, every moment his mind had wandered to the things he shouldn't have been thinking—he had been playing into this. And now, he was standing on the edge of a line he couldn’t afford to cross.

But he had already crossed it, hadn't he?

"Shut up," he whispered again, though this time his voice was weaker, the command laced with more desperation than authority. His free hand pressed against the wall beside you, his body leaning in closer, so close he could feel the heat radiating from your skin.

You tilted your chin up, eyes gleaming as you watched him struggle, as if you were daring him to let go of the last shreds of control he clung to. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted you to push him over the edge.

"Or what?" you whispered back, the challenge clear in your tone.

Father Charlie’s jaw clenched, his entire body tense as he wrestled with himself, his grip on you tightening. His breath was hot and ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at you. For a moment, it seemed like he might pull back, that he might step away, regain the control that had been slipping through his fingers.

But then he kissed you.

It was sudden, rough, and filled with the weeks of pent-up desire he had been fighting so hard to contain. His lips crashed against yours, his hands pulling you closer, as if giving in to the temptation that had been haunting him was the only way to make the ache go away.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, and you could feel the conflict in every movement—how he both wanted this and hated himself for wanting it.

You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. His hands slid up and down your back before suddenly finding your hair, pulling it back from the kiss.

"You're a whore," he gritted out as he gripped your hair impossibly rougher. "A whore in disguise, aren't you? You feign innocence but you're the most sinful in this Church."

Father Charlie's words were harsh, laced with anger and lust, but the grip in your hair sent a different message—desire and desperation. His brown eyes, dark and conflicted, bore into yours as he pulled you even closer, his breath hot against your skin. His control was slipping, unraveling faster with every second, and he knew it.

You smiled up at him, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "If I'm sinful, Father, then what does that make you?" you asked softly, your voice teasing, daring him to continue.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at your words, a low growl escaping his throat as he yanked your head back, exposing your neck. "It makes me weak," he muttered, his lips ghosting over your skin. "Weak because of you. Because of the way you tempt me."

His mouth hovered just inches from your neck, his breath warm, his body pressed against yours, every movement charged with the weight of the forbidden. His hands, still tangled in your hair, trembled with a mixture of restraint and hunger.

"You're what’s wrong with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if he were trying to convince himself of the words as much as he was trying to convince you. "You’ve dragged me down to your level. Made me forget everything I stand for. Everything I’m supposed to be."

But even as he spoke, his lips brushed your neck, leaving a trail of heated, fleeting kisses along your skin. His body moved on instinct, driven by the desire he could no longer deny.

Father Charlie's lips pressed harder against your neck, his breath ragged as his restraint dissolved. His words, filled with self-loathing, contradicted the urgency of his touch. Each kiss grew more desperate, more reckless, as if he were trying to bury the shame and guilt in the taste of your skin. His grip in your hair tightened, pulling you closer, and the tension between you ignited into something explosive, something neither of you could stop now.

His free hand roamed down your body, fingertips pressing into your waist, his touch both rough and reverent, like he was grappling with the weight of his own desire. Every brush of his hand, every kiss, was a betrayal of the man he had once been. But the way your body responded, the way you leaned into him, only fueled the fire burning inside him.

"God help me," he whispered against your collarbone, the words barely audible, as if he were speaking them to himself more than to you. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

You let out a soft moan, your hands tangling in his hair, encouraging him to continue, to give in completely. His resolve crumbled further with every sound you made, every movement of your body against his. The line between right and wrong, between control and surrender, had long since vanished.

Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes wild, filled with a mix of anger, lust, and confusion. His chest heaved as he looked at you, torn between pushing you away and pulling you even closer.

"I hate you for this," he rasped, though the heat in his eyes betrayed the truth. "But I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you."

You smiled, a knowing, satisfied smile, as your hand slid down his chest. "Then don’t stop," you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction, coaxing him deeper into the darkness.

That was all it took. With a frustrated growl, he crashed his lips against yours again, harder this time, as if punishing both of you for the sinful desire you had ignited. His hands roamed freely now, no longer held back by hesitation or fear. There was only the raw, uncontrollable need consuming him.

Whatever consequences lay ahead, whatever guilt or shame waited for him on the other side of this moment, Father Charlie couldn’t bring himself to care. Not anymore.

Charlie yanked your hair back again, then stared into your eyes. Without warning, he pushed you to your knees roughly. "How about you do something useful for once, huh?" He muttered breathlessly.

You blinked back up at him, your hands finding their place on his hips. You moved slow and deliberate, which angered Charlie more. Charlie’s eyes darkened as he looked down at you, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp just enough to make you gasp. The frustration in his gaze was palpable—fueled by your deliberate slowness, by the way you reveled in the power you had over him.

“You think this is funny?” he growled, his breath ragged as he watched you, his fingers digging into your scalp. His frustration was obvious, but beneath that anger was a raw, unquenchable desire. He hated how much control you had over him, how easily you made him lose himself.

You smiled up at him, slow and teasing, your fingers trailing over his hips, letting him feel the barest touch of your hands. “Maybe it is,” you whispered, eyes gleaming with mischief, enjoying every second of his torment. "At least, to me it is."

You could feel the tension radiating from him, the barely contained hunger in his every movement. Slowly, teasingly, you ran your hands lower, grazing over the bulge straining against his pants, earning a sharp intake of breath from him.

Charlie’s hand tightened in your hair as a low growl escaped his throat. “You think you’re so fucking clever,” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous, his grip on you firm as he stared down with a mix of lust and anger. “But you’re going to regret this.”

Your smirk widened, and without breaking eye contact, you undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft clink. His breath hitched as you slowly unzipped his pants, the anticipation thick between you, hanging in the air like a loaded weapon.

“Prove it,” you challenged, your voice a soft murmur as you looked up at him, daring him to follow through on his words.

For a moment, Charlie stood there, his chest heaving, torn between the overwhelming desire that had consumed him and the guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. But the pull of temptation was too strong—too powerful to resist any longer.

With a grunt of frustration, he grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you forward as he freed himself. “I don’t care what happens after this,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with lust and anger. “Right now, you’re mine. And you're gonna do what I fucking tell you.”

You barely had time to respond before he pushed your mouth onto his cock, rough and demanding, his hand guiding you with a forceful grip. The suddenness of it made your breath catch, but you quickly adjusted, falling into a rhythm as he set the pace, his body trembling with the intensity of his need.

You wrapped your lips around him, moaning. His cock was dripping with pre-cum, and your saliva made it messier—but neither of you cared. The bathroom was filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional low moan as you worked him with sloppy, measured motions. His hips thrust forward, pushing deeper, his control rapidly slipping away as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Your mouth was so warm and inviting, he couldn't stop. This was what heaven felt like, he swore—there was nothing better than this feeling, the feeling of your sinful mouth.

Charlie’s hand tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your scalp as he lost himself in the moment, all thoughts of guilt or consequences forgotten. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely more than a growl as his head fell back, eyes fluttering shut. “You… you’re such a fucking tease.”

He pushed you until you were gagging around his cock, much to his dismay. "Take it, whore. This is what you wanted, right? For me to use you?"

Your eyes were watering and your jaw felt like it was going to break, but his mean words egged you on. You hummed around him, a wicked smile curling at the edges of your lips as you kept gliding up and down his cock.

But just as he was on the edge, just as the tension in his body built to an unbearable peak, he suddenly yanked you off him, breathless and furious, eyes blazing as he stared down at you.

“Get up,” he commanded, his voice low and guttural, barely holding onto the last threads of control. “Turn around, whore.”

You barely had any time to react before he turned you around to face the mirror. He bent you over the sink as you let out a whimper, before his hands found your hair again and yanked it up.

"Look at you," he murmured as he forced you to look at yourself.

Your hair was a mess, your mascara running down your doe eyes and your sticky cheeks and chin. You caught your breath as you glanced back to meet his eyes through the mirror.

He bent you completely over the sink and landed a sharp slap on your behind. You let out a yelp, shutting your eyes at the stinging feeling. "Fuck,"

"What? Is it too much now, baby?" Charlie spoke, his voice dripping with mockery. His lips were curved into a smirk as he tutted. "This is what you wanted, right?"

He didn't give you time to respond before leading the tip of cock to your folds. You felt his heavy tip on your sloppy entrance, practically begging to get fucked. He hadn't even gotten the chance to touch you properly and you were already soaked.

He hummed at the warm feeling before pushing inside. He let out a huff of air, his head falling back in pure ecstasy. "Oh, yeah," was all he could get out. Your hands found the edge of the sink, gripping it tightly as you let out a desperate moan.

Charlie pushed himself all the way in, bottoming you out within a few quick seconds. He didn't even let you adjust to his size before he began slamming you into roughly, the edge of the sink burying into your stomach.

His thrusts were sharp and relentless, he wasn't letting up anytime soon. You felt like you were on a different planet, the feeling of his cock was dizzying as your eyes rolled back into your head.

"O-oh, fuck!" You cried out as your head fell forward.

Charlie gripped your hips even tighter as he groaned with each slam of his own hips, his head falling back. Your cunt tighten around his cock, and he felt your release coming. One of his hands reached up to grip your head roughly.

"Don't you dare cum, not yet," He got out breathlessly as you tried your best to nod. "Do not cum."

You squeezed, holding off your orgasm as you were told. You didn't know if you could—but you knew the consequences would be dire, Charlie wasn't playing around anymore.

A few harsh slams and he was cumming deep inside you, his moans echoing in the small bathroom. He rode out his high, his grip in your hair not easing one bit. "Fucking take it,"

You whimpered as you tried to hold off your orgasm, tears falling from your eyes as you gripped the sink. Without warning, he slipped out of you.

Your eyes opened and you turned around to face him. "Charlie—"

He cut you off swiftly as he pulled his pants up. "You don't deserve it,"

"Deserve it?" You practically cried out. "I just let you fuck me and you're not gonna let me cum?"

Father Charlie just shrugged. "Whores don't get to cum."

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[tojirights]

I'm sure we've all the "Alastor in a rut" fics but can I mix it up a little and request Alastor in a rut and so needy he's willing to give reader control?

a/n: omg baby's first rut, spawned by his attraction to you and he doesn't know how to get it to stop so he asks for help? :'))) i am def a subby person but every now and then i can write our mens being the needy ones 🩷

tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot

you had an unexpected knock at your door late at night after you'd already gotten into bed, and at first you ignore it. then, it happens again. you groan and throw off the blanket, about to get up when alastor appears from the shadows next to your feet.

you go to scream, not even able to comprehend who or what is grabbing you in the darkness, but there's a hand covering your mouth before you can do so. there's also something... stiff hitting your back. you calm when you recognize the hand and you take a deep breath when he removes it. "what the hell alastor?" you whisper-yell, spinning around to face him. you barely recognize the demon standing in front of you.

he's disheveled, shuddering, and looks completely exhausted. he's in what you assume he sleeps in, which is an interesting looking robe. "al?" you frown, reaching out to touch him but he grabs your wrist before you can. "please, darling... for your own good, be careful with your next move..." even his voice is shaky. your eyes finally catch his, and you gasp when you see the deep, dark desire seeping through them.

“i need… need you.” he speaks, still breathless and you’re sure you’ve never heard something so sexy. your eyes widen, taking in the fact that alastor's cock is what was poking you when he grabbed you. alastor has barely said anything other than a quick casual sexual remark in your direction the entire time you've been here at the hotel, and now he's asking for your help.

"o-oh um... yes! i mean-" you speak way too fast, embarrassing yourself with how fast you're interested in 'helping' alastor. before you can say anything else, alastor's lips meet yours and you're instantly melting against him. he steps backwards until he's falling flat onto the bed, tugging you on top of him. your hips straddle his, and the friction against his cock has him arching into you. you swear he whines when you grind your hips, that you can feel his cock pulsing under the small layer of clothing.

you've heard of demons going into a rut, but you've never seen alastor acting quite like this. his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his ears stand more alert. he physically looks... needy. and his breathy pants beneath you only spark your desire to help. you decide to push your luck just a little bit and interlock your fingers with his before pushing them above his head and holding them there while you rub against him.

alastor looks mad at first, that you dare try to pin him down, but the second he feels the sweet drag of your cunt over his barely clothed cock, he almost cums. "please." you're not sure alastor's ever begged for... anything before, but his pleas make your core pulse, heat pooling between your legs. "mmm, please what?" you smirk, watching frustration bubble up in his eyes. "please- i just... i need to be inside of you." he sighs, not putting up as much fuss as you thought.

you hold back a moan of your own, wanting to maintain some semblance of control over alastor, since you're sure this won't happen again. "ah~ good boy." you coo, again watching as something flashes in his eyes that's a mixture of anger and lust. "need you, darling." he pleads, grinding his aching erection against you. biting your lip, you tug off your shirt and wiggle your hips enough to slide down your sleep shorts. "make me cum." he gasps, giving into every carnal desire flooding his system.

as soon as the head of his cock presses against your pussy, he's trying to push you to take it all. "ah ah..." you warn, once more reaching to pin his hands above his head. "i will make you cum. don't move." your tone is strict, and alastor hates how much it makes his cock throb. he'll get you back for this brazen attitude at a later date...

for now, all he can think about is emptying every last drop of his seed deep within your sweet, wet cunt. after an agonizingly slow descent, you find yourself fully sat on his cock. alastor's eyes are shut, his chest heaving as every breath he's holding back the urge to cum. "hey al..." you whisper, leaning down so your nose touches his. alastor swallows, his hips wiggling ever so slightly. "y-yes darling?" he shudders, feeling every inch of your pussy squeezing around his leaking cock.

"cum as many times as you need..." the hitch in his breath is so audible, and all the tension in his body snaps like a twig. "you-" he gasps, legs spasming as he tries not to lose it just yet. "-don't know what you're getting yourself into." it's a warning, and you know that, but your cunt clenches at the idea of spending the rest of the night like this. "use me." you murmur, watching as alastor's eyes roll into the back of his head.

the groan that follows is primal, and you give in to his thrusts from below you. the force pushes you forward, your chest flat against his, every thrust upwards pushes more and more of his seed so deep inside of you. and even with his cock nuzzled deep against your cervix, the amount of cum seeps down his cock and covers your inner thighs.

you expect alastor to look worn out, but he looks even hungrier now. wasting little time, alastor flips the two of you so you're now under him. "now then..." he begins, his head slightly clearer now and he's not going to tolerate your behavior from earlier. "i think i like you beneath me a whole lot better, dear." you bite your lip and smile, mischief forming in your eyes. "i like this too."

the look in alastor's eyes tells you that you won't be getting any more sleep tonight.

[buckyalpine]

In some universe I like to think Bucky likes to fuck. Hard. He holds back when he has his hands all over your body and he's trying desperately to shut out the monster in his brain screaming to ravage you because he. Wants. To. Fuck.

There are days where he wants that tender loving and he wants to be soft and sweet but on others?

The release feels to good and in that moment he's in full control, chasing that pleasure, hyper focused on the way his cockhead is dripping and swollen, more sensitive than ever. Its throbbing and his veins are pumping all the blood to his rock hard cock.

At first he does a good job of hiding it.

But then the mask begins to fall.

Primal urges want to take over but how can he ruin his sweet little bunny whose laying under him, moaning and looking at him with doe eyes.

How can he-

"Buck?"

Bucky's hips stutter at the sound of your soft voice laced with concern, your hand coming to cup his cheek.

"You okay?" You can tell he's not all there, his movements hesitant, body too stiff. You're plaint under him but his muscles are tight, jaw clenched. "What's wrong Jamie"

Jamie. The name you had for him alone made him want to fuck you till all you could do was scream his-

"We can stop if-

"No-" Bucky cuts you off before you could continue, petting your head reassuringly, "Everything's fine doll, promise" He pecks a kiss to your nose making you blink and it some how makes him harder. You're so trusting, spreading out naked on his bed, completely unsuspecting of all the dirty things he really wanted to do to you. You were checking in on him to see if he's okay, not having a clue he wanted to rail you so hard, you'd forget how to speak. Pound you till you were begging for him to stop because there was too much cum for your tiny cunt to handle and his heavy balls would still be aching for release.

"You can tell me" You whisper, wiggling from under him to wrap your soft thighs around his waist, stroking his scruffy cheek. "Please?"

Bucky doesn't think he can hide his needs for much longer. Not when your scent is all over him now; on his pillow, the sheets, its soaked onto his skin with how closely your naked bodies are pressing against each other. How can he be expected to have any self-control when you're looking up at him like that like a sweet little bunny caught in the wolfs den, cuddling into her predators chest.

"You really want to know?" His voice was husky, letting his nose trail along the column of your neck, breathing in your sweet smell, letting his tongue dart out to taste your sweat slicked skin. The action makes you gasp, clenching around him with a whimper, your eyes growing wide when a growl emits from deep in his chest, "Are you sur you really want to know?"

"Y-yes" You nod, your breath hitching in your throat at the dark smirk that appears on his face as his hand snakes up to softly clasp around your throat.

"I want to ruin you bunny" Bucky's nose nudges against your affectionately before leaning down to nip your pouty bottom lip.

"R-ruin?" You whisper, a wave of slick soaking his cock further which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He experimentally draws his hips back and snaps them forward, hitting your cervix, the salacious moan you let out driving him feral.

"I want to fuck. Promise I'll make love to you after but I want to fuck you pretty girl" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, moving to graze his teeth along your jaw. "Will you let me? Fuck this pretty little pussy?"

The breathy yes you let out is all he needs.

And fuck you he does.

-

"J-JAMIEE"

"That's it-scream-scream for me!" He roars, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his balls slapping your clit each time. He has you on your hands and knees though your arms gave way, your face pressed against the mattress. He brings his leg up to get a deeper angle and the feeling causes white spots to blur you vision.

"M-more-Wan' more" You weakly beg, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, your entire body being held up by his grip as he takes you from behind.

"Greedy slut, begging for more as if she isn't already full of cock and cum" Bucky gritted out, having already emptied himself in your once, your combined slick making it easier for him to pound you. "Just a hole for me to fuck, you're just here to get me off aren't you baby, just a tight little pussy for me to stuff my dick into"

"Ye-ah" You hiccup, overstimulated from the orgasms he's pulled from your body left, right and center. "So-so-good"

"S'good huh, gotta keep you well fucked for my fat cock bunny" You have no idea where he got such a filthy mouth from, another orgasm building in your belly from his words alone, "Can feel you getting tight again, lookit you cumming all over me baby, messy girl, soaking me"

You can't respond aside from wailing with pleasure, trickles of squirt wetting his thighs, the sight making his balls pull towards his body.

"That's it, good girl, fuck gonna cum bunny, gonna give you my cum and keep fucking it back into you, keep you nice and full of me" He rails you faster, the serum in his veins pumping, sweat dripping down his body. He feels impossibly hot, head thrown back as immense pleasure shoots down his spine, his pace growing sloppy. There's not a single thought in his brain other than busting load after load in your sopping cunt till his cock his soft. He doesn't care that it almost hurts, overstimulated himself, panting and rutting into you, he's so far gone, his deep moans slipping into a whimper as his cock starks to leak, he's so close-

"OH-FUCKK" Hot ropes of his spend shoot from his tip as he lets his body fall on top of you, humping and rutting himself till he's all empty, "y'feel to good, can't even stop, holy shit" He moans into your neck, suckling at your pulse point while you writhe under him feeling his cum seep out of you. His movements slow till there's nothing left, his sensitive length still tucked between your folds, pink and soft and wet with your cream. He carefully moves you so you're resting on the pillows, his cool metal hand brushing your forehead.

"Come back to me bunny" Bucky coos, chuckling at your dazed state, your eyes still unfocused, panting and blindly reaching for him, "M'right here babygirl, c'mhere, I got you" He cradles your soft body close to his, kissing your hairline. "Did so good for me princess, so so proud of you"

You let out a sleepy yawn, curling up on his chest like a content kitten, closing your eyes while nuzzling into him. You've never looked so peaceful and happy and Bucky can tell just by your happy little sigh you want more of what he gave you.

[pucksandpower]

Bleached

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles’ beard has been looking a bit ginger-ish lately … what better place to talk about it than on a podcast?

Warnings: allusion to 18+ themes

“Okay, I have to ask,” the podcaster leans forward, elbows resting on the small round table between them, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His voice is friendly, but there’s that unmistakable gleam in his eye that says he’s about to drop something that’ll make the interview go viral. “There’s been some ... speculation. About your, uh, change in appearance recently.”

Charles shifts in his seat, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He’s relaxed, casual in a gray hoodie and jeans, but there’s a slight tension in the way he holds himself, like he’s been waiting for this question to come up. “Speculation? About what?” His tone is playful, teasing almost, though he knows exactly where this is going.

The podcaster chuckles, scratching his beard as he gathers the right words. “Well, I mean … the ginger beard thing. I’ve had a lot of listeners ask about it. A lot of comments, too. They’re all curious. You know, Charles, your beard’s been, uh, dark for as long as we’ve known you, and now …” he gestures towards Charles’ face, where the once dark brown stubble has turned into a mix of auburn and light copper. It’s subtle, but definitely noticeable. “What’s going on there?”

Charles laughs, but there’s a hint of sheepishness in it. He rubs his jaw, as if the act itself will somehow explain the change. “Ah, well,” he begins, and his eyes flicker to the side, as if contemplating whether he should actually say what he’s about to. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Oh, I’m all ears,” the podcaster says, leaning in even more, his grin widening. “I love a good story.”

Charles glances down for a moment, his fingers tracing the outline of the cup of coffee in front of him, before looking back up. “Okay, so … how do I say this?” He pauses, clearly trying to find the right words, and then he laughs again, softer this time, like he’s laughing at himself. “It’s actually because of Y/N.”

The podcaster raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Charles nods, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s … her. I mean, not directly, obviously, but … you know, her ... uh, how do I say this without it sounding ... weird?”

“Hey, man, this is a safe space. You can say whatever you want,” the podcaster says, trying to suppress his amusement. “You’ve got my full attention.”

Charles laughs again, a bit more openly this time. “Okay, well, let’s just say it’s ... the result of certain ... activities between us.” He’s clearly embarrassed but trying to make light of it. “You know, when you, uh, go down on someone, and … yeah.”

The podcaster’s eyes widen in realization, and he bursts out laughing, almost doubling over in his chair. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says between gasps for breath. “You’re telling me … your beard is turning ginger because of … her?”

Charles laughs too, but there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But, uh, yeah. Apparently, her ... uh, juices are, um, acidic? And they’ve been ... bleaching my beard a bit.”

The podcaster is in stitches, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh my God, that’s ... I don’t even know what to say. That’s amazing.”

“It’s funny, right?” Charles says, his grin widening as he watches the podcaster struggle to contain his laughter. “I didn’t even notice at first, but then it started getting more obvious, and she was like, ‘Uh, Charles, what’s going on with your beard?’”

The podcaster wipes tears from his eyes, still chuckling. “And what did you say? I mean, how do you even have that conversation?”

Charles shrugs, still smiling. “Well, we just laughed about it. I mean, what else can you do? It’s not like it’s a bad thing. It’s just ... one of those weird, funny things that happens when you’re in a relationship.”

“So, she wasn’t freaked out or anything?”

“No, no, she wasn’t freaked out,” Charles says, shaking his head. “She thought it was hilarious. I mean, we both did. It’s just ... it’s one of those things that makes us, you know, us.”

“Man, that’s ... that’s awesome,” the podcaster says, finally calming down a bit. “You know, I’ve heard of some wild stories on this show, but that ... that’s definitely up there.”

“Yeah, it’s not something you hear about every day,” Charles admits with a laugh.

The podcaster leans in again, his expression still one of amusement but with a hint of curiosity now. “Okay, but seriously ... have you looked into this? Like, the science behind it? I mean, can that really happen?”

Charles nods, his expression turning a bit more serious now. “Yeah, I did actually. It turns out that it’s possible. I mean, the pH of ... you know, down there ... can be slightly acidic, and that can have an effect on hair color, especially if there’s prolonged contact. I’m no scientist, but that’s the gist of it from what I’ve read.”

“Wow,” the podcaster says, clearly impressed. “That’s ... honestly, I didn’t even know that could happen.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Charles says, grinning. “But here we are.”

The podcaster laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, I’ve got to say ... Y/N is one lucky girl. And you ... you must be very enthusiastic about, uh, certain activities.”

Charles laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, I mean, when you’re with someone you care about ... you want to make them happy, right?”

“Of course, of course,” the podcaster says, nodding in agreement. “But still ... that’s some dedication, man.”

“Hey, if it makes her happy, I’m happy,” Charles says with a shrug, but there’s a genuine warmth in his voice that makes it clear he means it.

The podcaster smiles, clearly touched by the sentiment. “That’s sweet, Charles. Really sweet. I think a lot of people are going to appreciate hearing that.”

“Yeah, well, I hope so,” Charles says, his smile softening. “I mean, relationships are about give and take, right? You have to be willing to do things for each other, even if it’s something small. It’s those little things that make it special.”

The podcaster nods, his expression turning a bit more serious now as he listens to Charles. “You’re right about that. It’s the little things that count.”

“Exactly,” Charles agrees. “And, you know, if that means I have to deal with a bit of a color change in my beard, well, that’s a small price to pay.”

“Definitely,” the podcaster says with a smile. “So, what’s next for you guys? Any big plans?”

Charles leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Honestly, we’re just taking things one day at a time. We’re happy, and that’s what matters. We’re both busy with our careers, but we make time for each other, and that’s important. We’re just ... enjoying being together.”

“That’s great to hear,” the podcaster says, nodding approvingly. “It sounds like you’ve got a good thing going.”

“We do,” Charles says with a smile. “She’s amazing, and I’m lucky to have her.”

The podcaster smiles, clearly touched by the sincerity in Charles’ voice. “Well, I wish you both the best. You seem like a great couple.”

“Thank you,” Charles says, his smile widening. “That means a lot.”

The podcaster grins, clearly pleased with how the interview has gone. “And, uh, just to wrap things up ... any advice for other guys out there? You know, in case they start noticing their beards changing color?”

Charles laughs, shaking his head. “I’d say ... just go with it. Embrace it. It’s a sign that you’re doing something right.”

“Great advice,” the podcaster says with a chuckle. “Well, thanks for sharing that with us, Charles. This has definitely been one of the more ... interesting interviews I’ve done.”

“Happy to be of service,” Charles says with a grin. “Thanks for having me.”

The podcaster smiles, clearly satisfied with the conversation. “Anytime, man. Anytime.”

[mattybsgroupie]

movies | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); semi-public; sub!matt

notes: hello my darlings!!! SUB MATT IS BACK!!! nothing much to tell about this one, it's super short and super simple, just jerking him off at the movies lmao. not proofread but hope you enjoy anyways! thank you for almost 1,7K i dont deserve all of this love, yall are just fantastic.

- ♡ -

when matt and i first started dating, the movie theater was our favorite place. it was dark, comfortable, and no one would disturb us. as we grew into our relationship, date nights were no longer a priority, but we both knew how much we missed it. the innocence, the butterflies in my stomach, the nervousness about holding his hand, the giggly kisses and the awkward confessions.

“are we really doing this again?” matt asked me with the biggest smile on his face, adjusting his sweater. i nodded, glad that i was able to convince him to go out.

“we want… whatever’s next” he said to the cashier as he interlocked his fingers with mine, raising his free hand to his pockets, looking for his wallet. “yeah, this one” he nodded and grabbed the tickets, leading us to our assigned seats.

- ♡ -

i didn’t know how long it had been since the movie started. i would often lose myself on matt’s blue eyes, his skin reflecting the red colors of the big screen, his poorly done beard emphasizing his sharp features. i couldn’t resist placing a few kisses on his jaw, receiving chuckles and a squeeze on my hand, almost as if he was warning me to behave because he was actually interested in whatever we were watching. 

until the scenery changed. the lights turned warmer, the music slower and suddenly it was hard to breathe. i felt my chest raising on its own as the sensual atmosphere took over the room, matt’s grip on my hands tightening, silently asking me to take my eyes off of him and pay attention to the erotic scene in front of me. 

we didn’t expect such an explicit act. the actress had removed her bra, flashing her bare breasts to the few people at the movie theater. matt’s mouth fell open in surprise and i audibly gasped, quickly raising my palm to cover my sudden noise.

both of us turned our heads to each other, widening our eyes as we tried to hold back our laughs. “i promise i’m not looking” matt joked, pretending to block his view.

“you can look” i giggled, adjusting myself on the chair and getting closer to matt, letting my hand rest on his thigh. “i know how much you like boobs”

“well” he stopped for a second. “you’re right, but i’d rather look at yours” matt checked me out from head to toe, a grin appearing on his face as if i was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

i decided to be bold. my free hand moved to the hem of my sweater, pulling the cloth upwards and revealing just a bit of skin - enough to get him excited. i mentally thanked him for always choosing the back row, giving us privacy to our heated makeout sessions back then.

“please?” matt whispered, his digits reaching for my exposed tummy. “wanna see your boobs, please”. 

it was definitely risky, but i couldn’t resist his pleading blue eyes, the way his top teeth bit his bottom lip, how his fingers caressed my belly. what seemed like nothing to others was already too much for us, along with the adrenaline of doing the same silly things we did years ago as teenagers in love. i had blew him at that same seat several times, but it was different now. as if we weren’t supposed to be acting that way. and it felt too fucking good to ignore.

i finally gave in, pulling my sweater and revealing my breasts. i wasn’t wearing a bra, making this way easier for matt, who immediately shoved his face in between them, muffling a “thank you” i was only able to hear because it was a habit. he would always thank me for anything i gave, even my boobs. 

his beard tickled my skin as he moved downwards, resting his cheek just above my left tit. he wasn’t going to speak, too busy sticking his tongue out to tease my nipple before latching his lips around it. matt sucked so hard i left out a sigh, bringing my fingers to his hair, caressing his brown locks as i whispered how much of a good boy he was, which certainly didn’t help his impatient self. matt squirmed around on his chair, trying to get comfortable and ignore the growing tent inside his pants.

“need help, baby?” i asked, brushing my digits over his boner. matt nodded desperately, not letting go of boobs until i wrapped my knuckles around his covered length, making him gasp from the sudden contact. “what’s got you like that, hm? was it the movie or me?”

“you” he said, hiding his face on the crook of my neck. “always you”.

“such a good boy for me” i praised, receiving a muffled whine in response.  “nuh uh, keep it down. you don’t want them to hear us, do you?” matt denied with his head, jointing his hips forward, silently asking for me to actually jerk him off. i knew it had hit him too. the nostalgia, the excitement, the risk of doing something we shouldn’t. 

matt dragged his lips across my chest as i finally got a grip of his cock, placing my hand inside his pants and slowly pumping his shaft. he placed his tongue on my nipple once again, sucking it at the same pace i would stroke him. with long minutes of a lazy and steady handjob, matt was far gone — he couldn’t care less about the movie, frantically chasing for his orgasm.

i could feel his chest panting as i heard the heavy sighs coming from the back of his throat. matt was trying so hard to stay quiet and yet, he failed, letting out a cracked moan when i brought my thumb to his leaking tip, rubbing his slit as i tightened the grip on his throbbing cock.

“cum” he whispered to me, not opening his eyes. i pretended i didn’t hear it, my eyes glued to the big screen in front of me. “please, wan’ cum” matt spoke again, replacing the lips on my boobs with his hands, massaging my flesh.

he wasn’t getting what he wanted — my attention and permission. “princess, please” he pleaded, now covering my neck in kisses as he mimicked on my nipples the same movements i did on his slit. i savored the moment for a bit, hanging my mouth open as his kisses turned into love bites.

“hold it” i said, loosening my fist. matt whined at the loss of contact, throwing his head back in frustration. “you look so pathetic, baby” i cooed, running my fingers through his hair before cupping his cheeks. he looked so, so fucked out. “such a needy boy, aren’t you?”

“no” he pouted, blue eyes covered in desperation. “i’m good, i promise i’m your good boy!” matt said, moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock.

“you’re gonna have to wait until a really loud scene comes up” i told him. “we don’t want anyone to hear this good boy cumming all over himself hm?” i asked with faux sympathy, feeling his length twitching against my hand. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold much longer.

“boobs” matt practically begged. “i will keep my mouth on them and i won’t make any noises” he said, more to himself than to me.

“yeah? you wanna cum sucking my boobs?” i teased matt, who vigorously nodded while adjusting himself one last time. he spread his legs open, waiting for my cue. “go ahead” i encouraged him and he immediately latched his lips around my nipple again, muffling his needy sounds as i jerked him off, my fingers pumping his swollen length rapidly enough for matt to cum seconds later.

matt’s whines turned to whimpers as he reached his high, releasing the sticky spurt over my hand. i couldn’t see it, but i knew the inside of his pants looked like a mess. he panted heavily as he slowly came back from his orgasm, thighs still trembling after holding it for so long.

i kissed the top of his head as i finally removed my palm from him, raising it near my mouth and licking his cum. “don’t do this to me” he said as he watched me, pulling my sweater down. “i’m gonna get hard again”

“good thing we have the whole movie left” i smirked before sealing our lips together in a passionate, hungry kiss. 

after all these years, we were still the same kids who started dating at the back row of the movie theater.

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