#your arms reach as far as they can and your legs reach as far as they can etc. your back too! up and out like you are being pulled!!!

[esccpism]

- let ruin end here [.]

it’s peak hours on the train to grand central. you and sevika share a booth.

cw: younger woman x older woman, strangers to lovers, reader is anywhere from 23+, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, light dom/sub, complicated relationships with parents, reader's mother is passed, reader’s father battles alcoholism, overcoming implied suicidal ideation, undertones of grief

wc: 5.6k

a/n: i think the only thing that feels worse than making bad art is not making art at all. i really want to like this and can't. exposure therapy is posting it anyway! this is loosely edited so i apologize for any errors, and hope you enjoy x

fic inspired by this beautiful artwork by moonie_forever on twitter.

you don’t see her at first.

you’re focused in a frantic sense, eyes raking up and down over heads stuffed in phones or laptops for a leftover space to cram yourself into.

your hunt yields. you snatch the spot immediately, sliding into the last remaining seat in a six-seated booth. 

not that you can afford any pickiness, not that you ever can—but it's an aisle seat. it’s maybe the worst for an hour commute. you’re forced to remember this almost instantly, punished by a careless passenger rushing past who pummels your shoulder with their suitcase. 

the offense strikes against you like a match and the anger ignites quicker than you can swallow it.

you yelp under your breath, and look up with a painful hiss, ready to send daggers into the back of the offending head and instead your eyes latch onto her.

sitting diagonal from you, her gaze is on you already. there’s nothing in them, nothing you can discern, anyway. her vague curiosity seems to run out as soon as no argument erupts because she settles back into the book cracked open in her hands.

rubbing your shoulder, you try to be quick. strangers have a keen sense of who’s staring. 

you don’t want your trip to get any more annoying, but you take a big gulp and sink under: thin rimmed glasses bridge her strong nose, and she’s dressed comfortably, dark hair tucked away behind her, wisps and fly-aways brushing over her eyes. impossibly long legs eagle outwards in the seat, taking up far more space than necessary, and you nearly laugh—the poor old woman next to her is sitting stock upwards, elbows tucked to death—but it fails to be funny for long, seeing how her thighs dwarf the woman entirely and easily. 

the rest of her body follows the same pattern. her arms sit broadly. she’s got a pretty shade on her lips, dark as night, and—

you inhale sharply. she’s watching you watch her, again.

her brow lifts. 

you fish for the quickest thing you can reach for: smile breezily and nod towards the book in her hands. tell her with a voice that comes out strong and unwavering that you picked it up a few weeks ago, too.

it isn’t a lie. you recognize the title. the sentence, by louise erdrich—it’s sitting on your shelf in your childhood bedroom, and you’d put the book down temporarily as you had done with most things recently in order to keep yourself afloat. 

her eyebrow does something new that rustles inside you. 

her voice does something worse. it’s low and smooth velvet, and curls around in your stomach when she offers back, “main character’s a bit of an idiot.”

“only at first,” your grin grows, and loses its performance. 

“from cocaine transport and body snatching? i would hope so.”

“she was in love,” you shrug, in her defense. “a pretty woman will do that to you.”

her eyes glint, amusement or a ghost of a laugh or something else golden on the horizon, you’re not sure. she asks if you would know. you answer her, oh, yes. intimately.

there's a crease or a dip in the space between you two that fills itself with words, cradles lines like water cupped in the palm of your hands. you spill nothing even in the awkwardness of talking over the shoulders of the passengers beside you, who continue bouncing their feet in irritation. her gaze flickers to them and back to you, mid-breakdown of both of your least favorite writing sins ranked from most hated to satan couldn’t even think of this—something bridging just on amusement pulling at her mouth.

when the man seated in front of her stands to exit at his station you shift over to take his spot. 

your knees crowd together and kiss—she asks you if you have enough space to sit comfortably, and you tell her not to move a muscle. her long legs, stretching outwards like a yawn, hold yours inbetween. 

₊⊹

you’d gone home that night and, bored, thought of her briefly as the tall buildings flit by. you wonder and then wish you’d asked what she was doing in new york, where the city was taking her, where she was headed. 

and then you move on. 

wandering is no longer in your best interests. what’s important is what’s right in front of you, and if you let your attention drift for a moment too long it might crawl out from your grip and shatter to the floor.

you fantasize about it, sometimes, in the weak hours of the night. what it might feel like to let it all fall. how your lungs won’t remember what air feels like when it doesn’t burn. what it might mean if you were to stop running. 

alcohol hits you first, always. the stench sobers you up. 

you lean one hand against the hallway and lift your heel up behind you, slip your flats off and let them clatter to the floor. your dad doesn’t lift his eyes to greet you when you shuffle into the dark.

“hi, daddy,” you murmur, and rest a light hand on his shoulder as you pass.

he starts under your palm, lets his head roll towards you. the T.V. paints his face blue.

“hi, princess,” his voice scratches on the way out. he shifts, and a bottle rolls out of his lap and clatters onto the floor. you sink to pick it up, gathering another three with you. he grunts, rubbing his drooping eyes torturously slow, working the words out of his mouth. “how was your—uh…your internship?”

you let the bottles rest on the counter. there are about a dozen others there too, your eyes coast over them tiredly. tomorrow, you tell yourself. you said so yesterday, too, but you think you mean it this time. you’ll clear them out tomorrow.

you have nothing left, tonight.

you tell him to remember to turn the television off when he’s done, and after a long, dripping silence he makes a vague noise in his throat in response. 

the house is dying. 

there’s no pretty way around it, no way to clean the sentiment up. the house is dying. and it took your mother first, one quiet night, under the illusive cover of sleep. your father had first begged despairingly for it to give her back and then resolved to go in after her. 

the pile of empty bottles on the kitchen table counts down the days. they increase steadily, creating an ominous figure in the dark, and you glance past them everytime you twist your keys through the lock. 

the house is dying. your father wants to die with it, and you know greed when you see it—the floorboards shift and groan under your socks, just biding its time to give way and swallow you whole. it will come after him soon. he won’t have to wait long.

yet no matter how far you go, you can’t shake the feeling sinking its nails into you, trailing inside your shadow. the house is dying. you know that once it takes your father you will be next.

it’s what the city does for you. and you've considered moving countless nights, wrapped in your rainbow zebra print blanket, the one your mother gifted you when you were thirteen and the world was so big it burned.

the city cannot love you back, and so you stand to lose nothing from throwing yourself into its aching maw. you stare at the cars beneath you on the commute with a child weeping in the seat beside and a mother tiredly shushing it, and swallow down the bile that bubbles. stalk through grand central with tall boots that mouth at your knees or heels that make just a bit too much noise because you eat moments that make you feel alive, keep yourself full to keep from reaching for emptiness in worse places. 

you’ll take the local to soho, man the shop while your boss goes off to do god-knows-what for hours and wander for a few blocks after your shift is up. you’ll head down to greenwich to sit at the park and catch your breath for a moment and leave before you can let empathy crawl between your tired bones and make you too vulnerable. it shows, sometimes, when you care too much. you avert your eyes from a homeless woman on the bench diagonal from you and bury the feeling away. 

bum a smoke from a stranger at a bar or book a table at a restaurant for one, it doesn’t matter. come home around midnight and leave again before the sun. if the plan keeps you on your feet then it’s a good one.

but then there was her.

and wandering won’t do you any good—the snag she clipped in your routine was barely a blip and still her smile sears behind your eyelids, burning everytime you squeeze them shut. 

she was funnier than you’d expect of her. though she’d seemed at first confused and then entertained by your giggling—her humor was a bit dry, and her face far too expressive for her own good. you’ve never seen eyebrows that moved so much.

you had forgotten what laughter tasted like.

you flip your phone shut, and slide it onto your desk. sink into your comforter. right foot first, then left.  sleep seeps into you near instantly and you try not to flinch away, feeling its cold fingers slide down your eyelids. it stills you like death, every night like a ritual. 

drowsiness renders you helpless. it helps.

you dream of your mother and her cradling hands—of big things, of running away, of flying.

₊⊹

the eight a.m. peak hours aren't even the worst it gets, and still you only manage to sink into another six seat booth, in the aisle space next to an elderly lady who gives you a weary look before shifting so your legs don’t touch, and returning to her mobile game. 

her high score is shit when you steal a peek over, and you immediately feel a bit better.

flipping your bag, brown leather and well-loved, you tuck a hand inside and pull out your phone. eyes flickering across the screen, lifting to check the time—

there she is.

the words leap from you before you can catch them and smooth out the wrinkles, 

oh—. 

you!

it paints itself like a holy declaration, bright and a bit too loud. your seat mates and those across the aisle, as well as the woman who fills your chest up when her eyes lift over her lens to meet yours, all shift in unison. the world, the blue sky, all rushes out, all crashes back in. 

the conductor enters the car with a woosh and clatter behind you, calls out reminding the lot of you to have all tickets ready, and you ignore it. to your every elation she does too.

not quite a smile, but something catches her lip a little, and a huff sounds through her nose. 

“hey, you. long time no see.” 

₊⊹

her name is sevika, and your schedules align more than is normal.

each time it's the same train car, the fifth one from the back—and if you can’t make it you just jump train cars until you spot her dark, fluffy hair from over the seats. she has the same book cracked open each time you wrestle into the booth. 

her greetings tend to not be greetings. she peers at you and receives whatever it is you’ve brought to her to chat about. sometimes it’s more pet peeves, other times it book recommendations, and she begs you to slow down with those, or a video that had made you laugh so hard you spit that she watches blankly and tells you she doesn’t get it. you’d gotten her only once, though, caught her lip flicker, pull to a smirk—your own breath locks and then you pocket it for later. only the political memes make her crack.

her outfits change erratically, too, and you think the first day must have been a fluke. you ask her how she does it so early in the morning, all the belts and straps and buckles, and then kick her when she says with a small grin that she’s got a lot of practice. 

she nods in greeting, once, when you come to fit in the spot before her. her legs are always spread out wide and yours tuck together, inbetween.

it’s all you spend the weekends doing, now, gathering what to take with you to monday. you’re forgetting the bottles on the counter. you’re forgetting to tell your father to turn off the T.V.. the world moves in slow motion, everything moves in slow motion. even your dreams sludge through your sleep like a child running through snow.

some horrific mornings every seat in the booth is already taken. 

her gunpowder eyes will occasionally flit over to where you sit a row down, mirth brimming inside at your cross expression and your crossed legs. some days you bring two cups of coffee. and she surprises you—she enjoys hers sweet. she takes it bitter the first time, feeling sorry to force you to drink it, and you watch her stain your thermal jug with dark lipstick over the rim of your drink.

you both fall together like rainfall in june. your legs are forgetting what it feels like to be rid of oxygen, to burn and repair in order to burn. your muscles don’t ache when you sit, sevika makes sure. asks if there’s enough room for you. spreads out like open arms.

her progress in the book is slow. and you learn that she’s sort of cute when she gets defensive. 

her cheeks puff out and her brow creases and you wish you could tip forward and sink into her and disappear inside it. she tells you she’s really busy, you know, and her time on the commute is really the only time she gets to herself where she isn’t sleeping.

sevika pauses then. looks at you thoughtfully. 

“well. not so much anymore,” she says. “i guess now there’s you.”

but the next morning you do see her, she’s a bit further in than she would be at her usual pace—and you scoff, and then laugh, and she leans back and sighs. but watches, softly, as your giggles peel you apart.

₊⊹

for a few days you don’t see her.

you embarrass yourself by walking through every train car, eyes threading over the seat, legs sludging past briefcases and elbows. you know she won’t be in any of them if it isn’t the fifth car and you check anyway. and are proven right.

the remainder of the day is a bit dimmer. you try not to overdo it, you don’t know her, no matter how much you enjoy the chats you share. she doesn’t owe you anything, much less any fore notice of when she might be absent. 

she might just be sick or taking a day off. or maybe your eagerness scared her away. or maybe something had happened to her and the universe decided you’d enjoyed enough hope for a lifetime and she was taken from you, too.

your dad doesn’t respond that night, when you greet him—and you nearly crumble right there.

you hold your breath as you shuffle over, your sandals light on the floor boards. coast a hand under his nose, and still the blood pumping in your veins.

his breath whistles against your thumb.

you let your arm fall back down to your thigh. stare fiercely down at him from where he’s curled into himself. smaller than you ever remember. 

mother would ask you to save him were she still here, because that’s the kind of person she was. and it wouldn’t be a request, it would be your duty. she’d drape it around you like a badge, let go, and watch the weight of the metal pin you to the earth.

his death means your death. and maybe that shouldn’t be it—maybe you should simply love him, and let that be reason enough.

and your mother, she wouldn’t forgive you for failing. but she would understand.

you draw away. click off the T.V., set down the remote in his palm, and then turn on your heel. 

₊⊹

sevika is there the next morning. 

this time her eyes catch yours first, already staring before you find her. 

you stall momentarily, caught like a deer. the passenger behind you steps on your heel and you both mutter half hearted apologies as you slide towards the booth. 

it’s hard and inconvenient to get around the other passengers but you shuffle over them despite their evident discontent. you aren’t paying attention to them. sevika takes your arm and helps you over—her grip warms you from the point of contact, inching outward and webbing down your insides. 

her eyes are careful and steady on yours the whole way down, and your bare legs scrape her thigh. she closes them briefly to make space for you. 

as you get comfortable—adjust—she lifts the book from her lap. 

“i got up to the part where her friend haunts her,” she says in greeting.

“they weren’t friends,” you return. “they were something worse.” 

sevika shakes her head—her mouth quirks. “no,” she disagrees. “they were friends. sometimes there’s nothing worse.” 

you could think of many worse things, but none of them find you right now. the image of her toothy smile is lodged in your chest like stone, a dull ache. summer glances off her face, when the train emerges from under the tunnel.

she’s all at once and all of a sudden too much. you want to turn and flee in the opposite direction. you want to lower yourself between her jaw and pull her mouth closed around you, let the fangs sink into your skin, like a cheetah licking the meat off a gazelle.

everything falls away. guilt sucks its teeth. you won’t flee, and you know you won’t. no one with this feeling fluttering in their chest and ramming against their ribcage can let death wrap its cold fingers around their arm and remain still. 

you know you are forgetting your mother’s face, and your father will wither away and you won’t follow behind him—because you have something else to chase, now, and it’s living and breathing and smiling at you.

truthfully, the thought shudders through you. you’re even losing what her laughter sounded like. her voice when she’d tell you, silly girl. the place you’ll call home is waiting for you to make it. what’s there to fear? 

her cradling hands inside your dreams, when she’d grip your wrist and then your face and tell you, the door is always open. go.

sevika is terrible at hiding it, and she tries—but you think she’d missed you too. 

she had called the protagonist an idiot but she’s no better, you can see it in the way she stares at you as if to take you inside her mouth. how she tracks your every movement. watches the very saliva slide down your throat.

you think you could make a home out of wherever she’s heading.

you let your legs eagle out. her gaze lingers on the place where your naked knees press into her thighs. your skirt rustles but you don’t mind what she sees. if anything, you welcome her heady gaze, and the hot coals it rakes over your body.

“thought i’d lost our little book club,” you say. it’s so uncasual it trembles in the air between you two.

her dark rimmed glasses slip just a bit down her nose, and she shifts them. keeps her eyes on you.

“is that what this is?” 

the question stretches wider than just the book in her lap. 

the conductor calls out the transfer at jamaica—you’re meant to stretch out of your seat. sevika watches you cross your legs, watches the new passengers stream in, crowd and fill in the empty space. 

a few stragglers jog down the stairs, legs reaching past every other stair. the doors close mercilessly, passing like time. their frustration or disappointment passes across your chest as if it were yours, the familiar, intrusive ache of sympathy. but their story isn’t yours. 

sevika closes the book around her fingers. 

“i know today’s your day off.”

sevika leans forward, onto her elbow. “and you came to find me anyway?”

“who knew you’d be here? you must really love the morning commute.”

her mouth pulls for a drawn out moment. she tells you she has a second job back on the island, that she would’ve had to commute anyway to come back home—but you interrupt her. because not at this hour.

you know when her second job ends because she told you her schedule back to front when you’d asked about it. offered details about her day-to-to with one pretty smile from you, ran you up and down her routine with her voice calm as the shifting sea. despite accusing you of eventually revealing yourself to be a hitman or something else ridiculous she’d relinquished anyway, admitting well, it’d be a sweet way to die. 

you would’ve kissed her then, if you were smart enough. 

“you end far too early.” you tell her now. stare, and she stares back. “you should’ve been back hours ago.” 

“this is my routine, sweetheart.” 

“i’m your routine.” your leg bounces, scrapes and traces hers on its journey. her eyes are damp in the sunlight, kerosene drenched, and they speckle sunspots onto your skin with her intensity. 

you wonder if she’ll refuse you. 

wonder what you’ll do then, what the train ride back will look like. how you’ll open the text you send your boss. how curt he’ll be with the one he sends back.

but then—inside her incriminating, drawn out silence—you think that maybe she needs direction just as much as you need chaos. 

“alright,” she relents. her voice is quiet but her hands aren’t. they flatten along your knee, thumb tracing up and down. fingers nipping just under your skirt, resting there, warming. “but don’t start whining at me when you lose that dream job of yours.”

“i don’t whine.”

sevika retracts and leans back into her seat, as the train rushes forward and thrusts itself into darkness, rumbling underground. the station is four minutes away now, and the conductor’s voice crackles over the speaker. 

“we’ll see.”

₊⊹

you’re the compass that points eastward. 

sevika stabilizes you with a heavy hand on your waist, but she doesn’t anchor you down to the earth. you float as her heavy boots thud along the cement behind you. moves you out of the way of pedestrians, steps in front when a biker whizzes past. 

it’s her apartment you’re both headed to but you’re the one leading.

but her presence weighs, and the velvet of her voice keeps you holding hands with gravity. you tell her your story, and she tells you hers. 

she’s a senior consultant, and it’s a demanding job. what she says is that it can be draining. what she means is that she gets paid by big boss men and CEO’s to have someone to blame when things go to shit.

her overnight job is easier on her sore skin. she mans a gas station, and spends the shift exchanging stories with the regulars and insomniacs, and chasing away creeps that come to bother her girls. 

got yourself a little community, you say, squeezing her knee, and the comment makes her pause. you watch a few things flit across her face, before she grunts, and settles on one. 

…i guess i do.

on the subway her hand rests on your thigh, massaging the flesh near imperceptibly. your legs are crossed and you squeeze after squirming too long—she feels you grinding into the rolling, loose coil of pleasure from the shuddering train and she tuts you under your breath. you nearly lose your common sense, a shaky breath escaping thinly through your nose. 

you don’t have to ask why she doesn’t let go of you. 

you’ve seen it, anyway—she was always fidgeting, shifting her weight, wrapping fingers around a page, an unlit cigarette, or around your thigh as it bounced anxiously, over and over against her knee.

and in the dark of her apartment in the three hour layover between her different shifts, instead of a book it’s a sparkly rocks glass, or an untouched bottle. the place is neat otherwise, almost clinically clean—empty as if she weren’t it’s habitant. as if no one were. 

the drinks, she doesn’t consume them. they sit there, just in case. an assembly that doesn’t speak and company that cannot warm.

you survey it wordlessly and she watches you without offering any explanation or defense. 

she takes your silence a way you hadn’t meant it—stoops and begins shuffling things around, but you stop her with a hand on her arm, tugging her back up to her full height.

“there’s time for that,” you say, “later. we have so much time.”

her face flickers—tightens. 

there are no tears, no emotional eruption, nothing so melodramatic. but she gathers you into her with the force of an ocean that swallows with a hungry mouth. she tastes how she looks. she moves like something inside is dying, being replaced or beckoned out by something newer, some new life she can only find on your tongue.

you give her everything you’ve got. 

it’s not much. you aren’t an answer—you’re empty as a tin can most days. if she minds you can’t tell—she sucks in a breath when you stand naked before her, dripping and squeezing your thighs together.

“come here, sweetheart,” she beckons you closer, patting her thighs.

you’re guided onto her lap by a rough hand, one that squeezes and kneads but doesn’t go searching.

“spread for me.”

you whine lowly. she’s clothed still and her eyes are glued to you and it’s rustling at the sediment in your stomach, the fabric of her pants delicious on your cunt. 

she taps your thighs, voice lowering, “spread your legs, baby.”

slowly, you let your knees fall wayside, and the scent of your arousal washes forward immediately. she nudges you backwards, lowering you until your back thumps onto the bed. your hips are peaked in the air towards here, dripping cunt open wide for her to see, and you exhale shakily at the new angle, embarrassment crawling over your skin. 

sevika stares, slow and methodical, eyes touching every crease and corner of you as you start squirm under the heat of it, begging her to do something, before your throat caves into itself.   

“so restless, baby,” she says, a small smile crawling its way on her face. 

you feel like cursing, like clawing at her to move. you don’t realize you’re rolling into nothing until she rests hands on your hips and guides the movement, fingers pressing dents into your skin. 

the humiliation couldn't get worse, and your pride withers as you mumble, “are you going to touch me or what?” 

“i can’t savor the view?” 

“sevika,” you lament, and when she laughs you feel her stomach jump against your thighs. you suck in a breath, wet with want or something bigger, you aren’t sure and won’t reach out for it. it’s enough having her this close. she’s warm every place her skin makes contact with you, the cool surface of her prosthetic fingers rooting you back to earth with every squeeze. 

she doesn’t tease for long. her thumbs extends and presses down on you, and all your breath gets trapped in your throat. she rubs your clit softly, tracing little circles, matching the whimpers you make with low hums of her own. you hips lift and roll against her touch, arching off her lap. 

“feel good?” she coos. “when i rub your clit like this?”

you try to tell her you need more, but her maddening pace is making your brain muddy and your words slurred and nonsensical. but she’s never needed much from you in order to understand.  

sevika’s fingers dips to find where you’re most promising, wet and writhing as she taunts the worst of yourself out of you. 

she sinks inside and carves out the cave of your cunt, curling her fingers until your hips arch off her lap. she takes the invitation and readjusts, shifting until she’s supporting your hips in the air, and tucks her face into your thighs. bites and nips and searches the skin, leaves behind proof of herself in little tugs of teeth and wet kisses—and she’ll find nothing inside but your climbing greed, humping her mouth and whining sinfully, begging her to take you for all you’re worth. 

she drinks, feverishly. as if your greed were the best thing she’s ever placed on her tongue.

sevika groans inside you, kisses and laps your cunt sweetly. your hand finds her hair, sinking your fingers inside. you tug harshly as her tongue begins to work faster and she makes a low, rough noise in response. her name warbles off your mouth, rolling your hips up off the bed to meet her. her tongue flickers back and forth and up and down, sinking and sucking. your begging begins to sound more like babbling, and her hand comes to rest on your stomach as she drags your body in closer.

you’ve lost comprehension—your mind is hazy and you’re slipping, reaching out for something, just on the horizon. 

your thighs clamp around her head when your orgasm whispers against you, swelling tightly—

she murmurs into you, there you go, baby, give it to me, and that completes your search. with her tongue she presses you back into yourself, and you wail outwards as the crash overtakes you, seizes your body and squeezes till you’re shaking and shuddering. 

you collapse. your limbs are jelly, twitching at her touch—

and she hasn't pulled away. your body cringes away from her tongue, still gently kissing and rolling your clit.

“sevika, wait,” you pant, as discomfort and pleasure swirl together. “too sensitive.”

“sevika, it’s too…” your head tips back, rolling into her mouth again. she supports your hips with her arms wrapped underneath—rises to peer up at you, the beginnings of a shit-eating grin flitting at the corners of her mouth.

“hmm?” she asks, a question she already has the answer to, as your glistening cunt reaches towards her. 

“no, dont—don’t stop.”

“thought it was too sensitive?”

“sev, fuck,” you reach down, leafing fingers through her hair, guiding her back down, “please.”

her lips curl against you—a private smile, just for the two of you, and it guides the pleasure back as she sinks inside. 

she takes until you’ve got nothing left to offer. your body is heavy and spent, and when you kiss her and cup her face in your hands she holds your wrist, tender, soothing your back with her thumb.

wrestling her clothes off takes little convincing and a little laughter, and you reach down and let your fingers play at her pants zipper, slip your hand beneath as she watches you, lids low. her brows pull and she intakes a breath when your fingers brush her fuzzy lips, spreading to feel the pool that’s amounted there.

you glide your fingers along her. she just barely ruts forward into your hand, eyes disastrous, grip on your waist tight. “you’re this wet just from getting me off?”

sevika makes a small, breathy noise, and her voice comes out tainted. “what can i say. the sounds you make are something else.” 

“‘cause you make me feel good,” you murmur, slipping a finger inside. her eyes flutter shut, lips pressing together, before parting to pant. 

“that right?”

“don’t swallow it,” you say, watching her face contort when you pick up your pace, when you slip in another finger. “you sound beautiful. can i hear you, too?”

₊⊹

you pick sevika’s glasses up from her bedside, and push them onto her nose. she asks if you have work tomorrow—promises to walk you there, and you wave her off. 

butterscotch invades your senses when you rest your cheek on her chest. it’s all over you, too, she’d scrubbed you down and warned you that you’d smell like it for maybe the next three days. you couldn’t imagine a better predicament if you tried.

“i want to be haunted,” you push the words into the quiet, when her breathing has evened out to a near stalemate. she shifts, the only indication she gives that she’s listening. “i want to tell all the people i’ve ever loved that i hope they haunt me. but i waited too long. they won’t know that i wouldn’t mind.” 

“i think they know,” sevika turns her head to peer at you. “you should hear yourself. i think they’re doing a fine job.”

“do you enjoy it? being haunted?”

she’s quiet. her brows lower, she works her mouth. 

“sometimes,” she admits, quiet so as to not disturb the unretrievable. “when it gets bad enough it’s like they never left.” 

you tip onto your stomach, sprawled across her. reach over and spread her fingers out, slide forward the length of your hand until they seal together. the angle is awkward but the effort is earnest. she’s warm, like a living thing. it’s all that matters.

when her eyes glance upon you, shiny gloss in the dark, you don’t think you’d mind being a compass. 

you tug, and point eastward, outside the bedroom. leaving is the first step. 

“come.”

the door is always open. go.

“come. let’s go clean up your ghosts.”

you plant your feet on the cold hardwood, right first, shiver against it, resist retreat; and then settle the left. push off the bed, and trust sevika is following behind. 

© esccpism.

[oceanicwriting]

are you that needy?

summary: were you and your boyfriends are in a road trip for a couple of days and you can't resist, after so long without his touch, the urge to feel him deep inside you.

pairing(s): theodore nott x fem!reader

a/n: college is killing me! i'm just starting the third week, and i have eight readings to finish. thanks god i'm not writing essays yet...... anyways, i hope you enjoy this short one xoxo.

+18 smut, reverse cowgirl, masturbation (mostly f!receiving), cursing, public sex (?)

it's been two weeks since you and your boyfriend, theodore, set out on a road trip. so far, you've visited five different places, stopping only to sleep cramped in the back of his parents' truck or to set up a tent when you're deep in the woods. you've had an amazing time, but for the past two days, you haven't been able to stop thinking about his body. you could only blame it on the manly way he chopped the logs for the fire or the make-out session that ended too soon, thanks to the ranger's interruption.

ㅤㅤㅤ —can you pass me the matches? —he asks, arranging the firewood.

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod, getting up from your makeshift wooden seat and searching for what he asked for in his backpack. you can't help but notice the narrowness of his back under the tight t-shirt, much less the way the muscles in his arm twitch as he accepts the small box. you were losing your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're a little quiet today.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore had managed to start the fire, letting the flames illuminate the darkness that had yet to reach its peak. you had only recently emerged from the lake water, and you could still see his damp hair falling in disarray.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nothing to say. i'm having a great time.

ㅤㅤㅤ he sits down next to you, placing a soft kiss on your head and staring into the fire.

ㅤㅤㅤ —theo... —he makes a sound that indicates he's listening—. no, nothing. forget it.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore turns to look at you, your eyes falling hopelessly on his parted lips, dampened by the water he's drinking from the aluminum cup. embarrassment, for some reason, tickles your insides and forces you to look away. of course, he wouldn't let that go.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you want me to kiss you? —he asks, amid a laugh that does nothing but annoy you a little—. you just had to say it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh ironically.

ㅤㅤㅤ —fuck off.

ㅤㅤㅤ you get up from your spot on the log. however, theodore's hand reaches you before you can move far enough, forcing you to sit on his lap. you mutter a couple of profanities, struggling against his grip on your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so cute.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore's hand reaches for your jaw, squeezing it and guiding your face toward his. his lips, soft and expert, caress yours without a hint of delicacy. the contact ignites a flame that had been burning weakly in the center of your body, and you don't resist; in fact, you accept the kiss with the same ferocity. both of your bodies move from side to side in the desire to dominate the situation, clicking at the exchange of saliva and growling at each other's reckless audacity.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore manages to arrange you on the blanket you'd left on the floor after getting out the water. you could still feel traces of moisture hitting your hands as you lean against it, but you don't say anything. between a couple more kisses, theodore manages to remove his jacket, and he stops before doing anything else.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what's wrong?

ㅤㅤㅤ a smile spreads across his face, looking like an angel from hell with the fire burning at his side.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nothing, baby. are you that needy?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, confused, but theodore doesn't respond and attacks your mouth again. his hands move all over your body, slipping inside your clothes and laughing at the flinch it produces in you. your own hands have found a way to tangle in his clothes, baring his chest and whimpering when one of his legs slips between yours to press against your sensitive area.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's just a matter of time before he finds you half-dressed, wearing only your underwear and theodore's cute hands as a bra. he's in the same position, covering his hard cock with the soft fabric of his underwear and kissing your body everywhere he can. in a moment, he rolls onto his back, placing your weight on top of him, strangling his member against your wet pussy.

ㅤㅤㅤ —turn over, —he whispers, leaving you stunned—. come on, turn over.

ㅤㅤㅤ you do, sitting with your back to him and gently rubbing yourself against his hardened cock. oh, how you needed him to get going. he runs his hands down your waist, slowly moving up to your breasts. how he loved squeezing, pinching, and massaging your tits, almost as if they were his own stress toys. his chest hits your back, making you shudder even more at the resounding kiss he places on your neck.

ㅤㅤㅤ —shit, i could devour you right now.

ㅤㅤㅤ —d-do it, please. do it. —he digs his teeth into your skin, gently biting into a few pieces of your flesh—. ah, theo...

ㅤㅤㅤ your hands search for a way to free theodore's cock, while his free hand descends to your panties, pushing them aside.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i need you to raise yourself a little, —he whispers against your ear—. that's right. now you do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you spit into your hand and hurry to grab his cock, guiding it to your entrance. you only jerk him off a few times to make sure he's wet enough to slide inside you in one go. you settle in, theodore kissing your back and playing with your left breast. then, you begin to take him, slow and steady. the mere sensation of his length brushing against your walls makes you moan like crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come on, love, just a little more.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore helps hold you up, lowering slowly between muffled whimpers and excited sighs. then, when he's fully inside you, a feeling of instant satisfaction courses through you. theodore urges you to move, pushing against you, as if he could be deeper than he already is.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're already s-so deep... —you moan, bracing your hands on his thighs to maintain your composure—. and yet i need more.

ㅤㅤㅤ that seems to turn theodore on even more because he licks your earlobe and forces you to turn your face to capture his lips. soon after, you begin to move, moving up and down, in circles, slowly and fast. theodore hasn't stopped kissing your back, licking and chewing on the portions of your skin he can reach. every now and then, he gently thrusts upward, slamming into your center and deepening his penetration.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so d-deep. and s-so good, —you moan, no longer feeling theodore's back against yours—. t-theo?

ㅤㅤㅤ —just keep moving like that, —he commands, taking your hips and helping you increase the pace—. i wish you could see this. your pussy taking my cock so deliciously. it's so perfect.

ㅤㅤㅤ your muscles react to his voice, husky and full of seduction. theodore knew how much you got off hearing him talk during sex, but he rarely succumbed to it because he loved hearing you moan and whimper much more.

ㅤㅤㅤ —taking it all so easy. isn't it embarrassing? —theodore thrusts his pelvis, slamming into a spot so deep inside you that you smother a cry—. just let it out. i want to hear it over my voice.

ㅤㅤㅤ he does the same movement again, this time releasing a scream that turns both of you on to a level higher than heaven. your movement is maintained with the help of theodore, who squeezes your hips every time he slams into you again. he's so good that your whole body trembles at the violent shocks of his sex against yours.

ㅤㅤㅤ suddenly, one of theodore's hands travels up your thigh, and the other stops holding you, leaving you to move on your own. then, you feel his soft moans crash against your back and his hand finds a way to press against your clit, stealing a high-pitched moan from you that makes him grunt softly for some reason. his fingers have no trouble finding that erect spot on your body, much less massaging it with your body moving up and down at an almost inhuman pace.

ㅤㅤㅤ —fuck, you're doing so good. am i doing this r-right? tell me if i'm doing this right, love.

ㅤㅤㅤ the way his warm air hits your back drives you wild, and it's impossible to form any words as all the stimulation in your body begins to build toward an orgasm.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you enjoying it? of course you are. you wouldn't moan like that if you weren't enjoying it. come on, just a little longer. —you shake your head, your whole body unable to keep up—. yes, l-love. just keep going like that a little longer. i can feel you squeezing my cock... and i'm so damn close.

ㅤㅤㅤ you do your best with your last few strokes, taking theodore's member a few last times and trembling as all your sensations unleash in a shaky cry. theodore isn't far behind, exploding a second later and leaving your insides with a soft pop.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so full of me now, —he mumbles, forcing you to turn around on his lap—. are you okay?

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod, still feeling your body gasping for air.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you look so pretty.

ㅤㅤㅤ one of theodore's hands reaches for your face, and even though the night has reached them with a bit more wind, the warmth of the fire keeps them at the perfect temperature. or is the caress, though tender, violent and full of desire?

ㅤㅤㅤ —so precious.

ㅤㅤㅤ your body reacts automatically, rubbing yourself against his cock, which slowly reawakens. it's almost magical how easily he regains his energy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—and it seems to me we're not done yet.

[symbiomancy]

summoning circle —demon

—summary: You summon the wrong demon. However, this one is also willing to help you out.

—warnings: demon x human, piv sex, mild degradation (no use of whore/slut/etc), creampie, overstimulation, rimming/anal, (technically) double penetration, manhandling, spanking, dubcon(ish).

—word count: 2,1k

—a/n: blacked out writing this, came to sweaty and wet. also on AO3

He doesn’t look like the diagram in the book. You stare at the demon standing in the summoning circle in the middle of your bedroom, then look at the diagram again. He has legs. And claws. So many mouths. The genie in the picture has no legs, just a long, curling strand of smoke, no claws and not that many mouths.

The demon exhales a long and suffering sigh, a clawed hand pinching the bridge of his nose. Or, you think that’s his nose. It's hard to make out under all the smoke and blur shrouding his body.

“Okay,” he says after a moment and raises his other hand to make a come hither motion. “C’mon, tell me what you wanted to wish for.”

You narrow your eyes at his tall, sinewy figure. “You just said you’re not the wish-granting type.” His head snaps up, eyes gleaming red in the dying sun. “Oh,” you drawl as realization dawns on you, “common occurrence, huh?”

“I think I’ve been summoned more times to someone fucking up a genie summon than to someone summoning for me.”

“Oh, so you’re a loser,” you deadpan.

“And you’re trying to summon a genie,” he argues. His gaze is burning into your eyes. Goosebumps rise on your skin. You swear he notices because why else would his posture relax slightly, the tense line of his shoulders loosening just a little. “So,” he clears his throat, standing up straighter, horns nearly grazing your ceiling, “your wish?”

You pointedly look away from him, heat rushing to your cheeks, and press your thighs together. From the corner of your eye you see the mouth at his throat widen into a broad grin. Many more mouths on his body open up, all displaying some kind of grin, small or big, sharp and toothy or already cackling. “You know what—”

“That’s your wish?” he asks with mirth. “Now who’s the loser?”

You turn on your heel, grab the book of sigils from your bed and close it with a snap, gather the unused candles and the chalk and lay them carefully on top of the book. What a waste of time, you think with the sour taste of tears in the back of your throat. A goddamn demon making fun of you — that’s truly a new low. You gather everything into your arms, precariously balancing all the items that want to roll away from you as you turn to leave the room.

“Wait, wait,” he says. You don’t want to stop, but your feet do so on their own accord. The demon cocks his head to the side, gleaming red eyes raking over your body with a newfound hunger. You grip the book tighter to your chest, feeling naked all of a sudden. Then, he shrugs his shoulders. “Ah, what the Hell; I’ll do it.”

“Just like that?”

“I’m extending an olive branch.”

He has an ulterior motive, he has to, he’s a demon for fuck’s sake. But… you’re lonely. And it’s a little pathetic how you summoned a demon for companionship. You’ve dug this hole for yourself, might as well see how far you can keep digging. So, you set the books and chalk and candles in your hands down on the nightstand and reach out with the nose of your slipper to scrub a part of the chalk summoning circle away.

The demon, suddenly taller and wider and cloaked in shadows and smoke. There’s barely enough time for your brain to register he’s moved across the room when there’s a hot mouth on yours. His lips press against yours with bruising force, a tongue prodding at the seam of your lips and you can’t resist, don’t want to. It delves past your lips and presses against your own tongue.

Hands, so many hands on your body, grabbing and groping and ripping and tearing. Claws sink into the front of your shirt and pull it to shreds. They advance, pressing against your heated skin. You nearly squeal when something hot and wet drags across your nipple and jerk back from the demon. His grin is wide as his long, serpentine tongue retreats into his mouth and he raises a hand, palm facing you. A sharp-toothed mouth grins at you, slick tongue lolling out, curling around thin air. The demon reaches his hand out and the tongue drags across your torso, across your breast, and latches onto your nipple. You choke out a half-moan, half-gasp, back arching against him.

His mouth is back on yours, tongue prodding at your lips for entrance and you let him. The world sways under your feet and your knees give out. There’s a hand on the small of your back guiding you, until you’re splayed out on top of the covers. The demon does not pull away, his body following the curve of yours, leaning over you, one knee propped on the edge of the mattress. His hands, everywhere, fingers groping and tongues dragging fire across your skin.

When he pulls away, you blink away the fogginess in your eyes. The world slowly comes back into focus but he remains a splotch of bleeding black ink against the brightly colored wall of your bedroom. Hands on your knees and your thighs and your calves grab at the flesh, force your legs apart. Your muscles strain against the pressure. Cool air hits your cunt and you clench around air, buck your hips up. 

A mouth rests on your clit, its tongue presses against the sensitive bud. Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s thick and wet and so warm, dragging across your clit and down, until it stops at your entrance. You open your mouth to beg when fingers latch around your hips and twist your body abruptly. Your face smacks against the duvet cover as your body is angled, hips lifted and pulled against his body. He grinds his hard cock against your bare cunt with a cackling laugh.

“Please—” you mutter against the bed, blink away the mist in your eyes. This is pathetic, so fucking pathetic of you, begging for a demon to fuck you because you can’t get laid anywhere else.

The demon hums, almost purrs, and smacks a hand against your bare ass. You gasp into the mattress. “You’re so funny like this,” he says and you just know he’s grinning, every single goddamn mouth on his body is grinning, laughing at your pathetic neediness in the face of the demon pressing his cock against your entrance. “I mean,” he starts again, pushing his tip just past your folds and into your throbbing cunt, but not far enough to provide any relief, “you were going to waste a wish just to get some demonic dick? And here I thought people asking to be famous or rich was sad.”

“Please, just—” you clear your throat, swallow around the lump in your throat. You try to push back against his cock but he’s too strong, hands planted everywhere to keep you in place. A tongue wraps around your nipple and gently sinks its sharp teeth into it. Your breathing shudders and you clench around his cock.

“But to ask to be a demon’s cock sleeve just because you can’t get any from other humans?” The hands tighten around your flesh and abruptly pull you into him. His cock sheaths into your pussy in one swift thrust. You nearly see stars. He’s thick and big, and you feel so full, feel him in your goddamn throat. The pace he sets is frantic, brutal. Your thighs smack against his body with every harsh thrust and it’s so loud. Your cunt dribbles around his cock, hands fisted in your sheets, trying to find some leverage. Your cheek drags against the coarse duvet cover with every thrust.

Something prods against your clit with every snap of his hips, something long and warm. You struggle to rest your weight on one shoulder and reach down with your free hand. A hand smacks against yours harshly just when your fingertips graze the tip of another cock. You gasp against the bed, fingers tingling with pain and it earns another smack against your ass. “I want to cum, too,” he says. “You’re so fucking selfish, y’know? A selfish loser. How bad did you strike out with humans, huh? Ever say anything smart with that mouth of yours?”

The drag of his cocks are too much. You swear you feel every goddamn ridge against your walls, every vein catching against your clit as he thrusts. His pace keeps steady, slowly guiding you towards your orgasm, the coil in your stomach tightening.

You come with a gasp, breath shuddering. He doesn’t stop, just thrusting back in every time your cunt constricts around him. The hands — the hands are back — one is running its clawed fingers through your hair, others are positioned everywhere on your body, razors-sharp teeth grazing your skin. Tongues, wet and hot and soft press against you, lick the sheen of sweat from your skin. Your body sags, muscles sore suddenly. You try to swat at the demon with your foot.

He laughs, loud and scratchy, like a chorus of people. A hand connects with your abused cheek again and he drives forward, presses the weight of his body against yours. “I said I want to cum, too.” You can feel the hands against your body grin. “You can take it.”

The demon dives into your pussy with newfound vigor, clawed hands gripping your hips. Your thighs are wet, slapping against his body. The sound is so incredibly lewd to your ears and your face burns. Tears slip from your eyes, dot onto the duvet cover. A hand rests on your asscheek, hot tongue soothing the stinging pain from his slap.

It’s too much, too soon for your abused cunt. Your thighs shake and a sob crawls up your throat at the pace he sets, the way he drives his fat cock into your pussy, sloppy and fast, only chasing his own high. The bed creaks under his thrusts. Warm hands on your ass pull your cheeks apart. Something hot and wet traces around your hole in a lazy circle, then prods at it.

“W-wait,” you gasp.

The demon shushes you and a hand clamps over your mouth. A tongue presses past the seam of your lips just as the other one slides through the ring of muscles with ease. He ruts against your body, pulling you along with his motions. It’s too much. He’s growing erratic, his jerking and cock plunging in and out of your cunt with sloppy pace, burying himself into you to the hilt with every thrusts. He’s so incredibly deep and you feel the budding pull of your orgasm approaching again. His hot breath hits your heated skin, hands grabbing and groping but the mouths and tongues slack. The tongue in your ass grows. Your thighs strain and your cunt aches to accommodate his size and he’s so big, filling you to the brim, stretching—

Wait—

You clench around his cock and his tongue with a wail, a choked gasp as you come, stars in your vision. Your cunt pulses, pushes him out and pulls him back in as he thrusts into your warmth with an almost erratic pace.

He hisses something under his breath and buries himself into you to the hilt. His hips jerk as he spills into your cunt, flooding you. Teeth sink into your skin. The cock dragging against your clit does too, cum splattering against your torso, staining your bedsheets.

Your ears are ringing. Your thighs shake and your arms tingle from the forced position. It’s hard to think over the cotton in your head. Faintly, you register your chest heaving, trying to take in air. You need to pause. You need to recalibrate. Sleep.

The demon adjusts himself — fuck you nearly forgot about him, still buried in you — and slowly pulls out. His cum dribbles from your pussy and you almost want him to slide back in, all to beat this sudden feeling of loneliness. Fuck, he was right, you really are a pathetic loser.

You collapse onto your side, pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, press your misty eyes against your kneecaps. The taste of tears is bitter in the back of your throat.

A clawed finger prods at your thigh.

“What?” you mutter against your skin.

“So,” he says and he’s grinning, you know he is, “you have three wishes left.”

You raise your head to look at the demon perched on the edge of your bed, grinning mouths peppered around his body. He’s larger, wider. His horns are more filled out, arms thick, muscles bulging as he crosses them over his chest.

“What?” you croak out.

“See? I’m much nicer than a genie. I’ll throw in a freebie and not twist your words into horrifying wishes.”

banners by @/cafekitsune

[reds-hoodies]

Joy Ride

MDNI

Tags: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader, Face Sitting, Oral (Fem receiving)

Word Count: ~440

Author’s Notes: so we’ve all seen Dan Mura’s take on Jason, yeah? Right… right…

Jason makes it a point to not bring work home.

But for this, he’s willing to make an exception.

His callused hands trail up your hips to hold you securely on top of him, pushing your thighs down so that you can grind more firmly to the muzzle of his half-mask.

He can feel you shaking, your hips rolling against his face as your legs nearly give out.

And, look, you asked to use his mask, but he didn't know how much more of this he could take.

The scent of you, the way you looked sat over him and gripping the headboard- it was all so much.

You asked him to stay still, and he promised he would, but- His hazy eyes flick up your body and a hand grips your ass, making you buck forward and press his head to the mattress.

He groans, and the sound ricochets off the hard carbon fiber and vibrates deliciously against you. Your hips stutter.

But he needed to taste you. He needed every last drop you could give him. He needed to feel you against his tongue. He needed-

The sting of your hand pulling at his hair nearly had his eyes rolling back. The pace of your rocking picked up, had him massaging your thighs to encourage you more.

The rough material angled and rubbed against you just right, pushing and dragging against your clit. Your sounds are incoherent gasps and whines until you keen so beautifully above him, reaching your climax.

You stay there a moment, shaking and panting before you lift from him. He could see a string of your spend connecting his mask to your dripping pussy. It pulsates with the aftershocks of your high. Taunting him.

Breathless, you look down at the mess you made and let out a sigh, “Oh, Jason, I-”

The mask clatters harshly against the far wall.

Fuck that thing.

He gives you no time to think before he drags you back down to his mouth. You yelp and grip at the headboard to balance yourself.

He moans against you, eyes rolling back and grabbed for your ass to tug you closer and spread you further for him.

Pulling at his hair, you arch your back from the overstimulation, hips raising - or attempting to. He’d wrapped an arm around your legs, you weren’t going anywhere.

He may need to get a new mask, because as much as he’d love to parade it around knowing you fucked his muzzle— Jason was a possessive man. And there was no way in hell he was letting anyone else get close to it.

[sturnioz]

tw. choking. mentions of hate fucking. please proceed with caution.

☆. . . YOU HATE CHRIS. you hate him with a burning passion. he's loud, annoying, and too overly confident and cocky that it makes you sick to your stomach. he lives and breathes to tease you, to rile you up and cause a reaction only to have the satisfaction of calling you dramatic.

you loathe him. chris knows this, and of course, he thrives off of it—making it his own personal mission to make you angry at least three three times a day. he makes small comments here and there, he steals your shit and refuses to give it back until you beg him for it, he mocks you when you talk, and he tries to teasingly trip you up whenever you walk by.

it's a game for him—a sick and twisted game that makes you want to strangle him.

you've never laid your hands on chris—minus a few arm punches and elbow nudges in the stomach to get him to shut the fuck up. but the first time you actually snapped with the intent of putting him in his place was when chris took his teasing a step too far.

your hands were around his throat before you fully could comprehend what was happening, squeezing a little as you curse and shout at the top of your lungs while straddling his lap for a better grip, threatening the little punk for making your life a living hell.

chris is cackling, finding amusement in your anger as he tries to peel you off him, digging his hands under your armpits to tickle you, pinching your sides to throw you off and bucking his legs to jerk you around, but his attempts come to a halt when he feels the way you're moving on top of him—your hips accidentally grinding down on his own to keep yourself stable above him.

he swallows thickly, his eyes blown out wide as he stares up at you, his hands unmoving on your waist. you go to make a comment, to demand who the fuck he was staring at until you feel it—his cock straining against your inner thigh.

you immediately reel back in surprise, but chris' grip tightens, keeping you trapped in his hold which makes you unable to move off his lap without struggling, causing you to rub yourself on his cock that continues to chub up in his pants.

you call him a sick fuck, chiding him—degrading him—for enjoying what's happening, but he's not listening, too busy panting with each movement of your hips.

you raise your hand to hit his arm for his attention, but he's quick to grab it, pressing the palm of your hand back around his throat tightly as he begs you to squeeze again.

you're dumbfounded, unable to form a coherent sentence as you stare at him incredulously, wondering if this was just another trick of his.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the position you're in, and you finally allow yourself to wrap your fingers around his throat for a quick experimental squeeze as you grind your clothed cunt down on his cock.

chris is gasping and grunting through strained curses, his own fingers digging into your waist to urge you to move faster, and it doesn't take long for him to remove both of your clothes in a messy and awkward rush, begging to be touched and pleased.

it's exciting—exhilarating—to have sex with someone you despise so much, feeling their cock pound into your slick heat with vigour, using teeth to bite at any available skin you both can reach.

but that's what makes it so fun, especially when you're fucking each other with so much pent up frustrations and hatred.

divider credits. @/fleurwy

© STURNIOZ

[le-monchou]

Hey, it's me. I was wondering if you do comfort requests, I had an idea (or at least half an idea lol and I also saw requests were open.)

Any of the LADS (Love & Deepspace) men coming home to see that MC hurt themselves during a wanderer mission and how they react to it or something along those lines.

Apologies as this is my first request ever and I'm more of an artist than writer lol so please change it to fit as much you need.

Hope you have a good day. (Hoping I'm doing this right)

.... help me this was sylus's text to me when i logged in today what is this 😭 are you another prophet like my mutual nettles || xavier, zayne, and rafayel's headers are from @editshan || written way before caleb's release and never posted.

"why didn't you tell me? why wouldn't you tell me?!" is xavier's first questions, and the outburst makes even you pause in the safety of your home, clutching your arm like an injured animal, and he takes several steps back to breathe before approaching you again. "i was... very worried," he starts, and you have a feeling he was severely downplaying how he felt. eyebrows furrowed, you knew you were in for the scolding and pampering of your life.

"your vitals are good. you'll recover in a few days. i strongly recommend you take time off, however." zayne's tone is clipped, and he sighs as you reach out to cup his cheek. "you scared me. i hope you don't have to go through something like that again, but i know you will." zayne sighs again as you drop your hand by your side. "would you... let me take care of you the next few days, just like you take care of me all the time?"

"why are you a hunter, again?!" rafayel all but screeches as he rushes to your side, your leg wrapped nice and tight and you wince, sweat breading your brows as you try to stand. "this one's particularly bad, huh? you're staying at my place, no arguing with me." you sigh, and try to mention how you've gotten enough time to heal, unlike the last few times, and he scowls. "my bodyguard is injured! who's going to care for her if i don't, hmm?"

"well, aren't you a nasty kitten." sylus's tone is light, perhaps far too light for the size of the injury being wrapped up by kieran. "tell me why i had to find this out from mephisto." you roll your eyes and mutter that you're fine as kieran shakes his head and leaves the room (likely to snoop). "you're staying over until it heals. i can postpone my meetings for the next week or so, they're not important." he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. "unless, and only if, you need me to get you something."

[moonlightdreamzz]

“Let’s make a movie, baby.” — ENHYPEN

SUMMARY. Remember that time—the night before he had to leave for tour, when you grabbed your boyfriend’s phone while he was in it, and started recording? For memories sake?

GENRE. Nothing short of whorish $mut.

THEMES. Established!Relationship, You’re a naughty, naughty girl :). Cuss words per usual

AUTHOR’S NOTE. As you guys know, the parasite in me wrote this, not me. Enjoy.

HEESEUNG

He was too lost in you—eyes squeezed tighter than your pussy around him, thrusts sloppier than the head you just gave him—to even notice you reaching for his phone at first.

How could you two go two whole months without this? The comforting weight of his stomach pressed against your back, the delicious stretch of him inside you, the way he barely grazed your spot—just enough to make you needy for more.

“Hee…” you whimper, voice breaking to match the rhythm of his thrusts. You press record, your half-lidded eyes flickering open just enough to capture what you’ve never been able to see before.

And so does he.

His eyes, already heavy with lust, darken the moment he realizes what you’re doing—what you’ve done. You’re filming him. On his phone. And just like that, something clicks.

His gaze locks onto his own reflection—low, pussy drunk, and seductive—as if to say, it’s showtime.

His right hand catches your jaw, tilting your face toward the camera, and suddenly, he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.

“You wanna leave me with a memory, hm?” He grunts, each word punctuated with a sharp thrust. “Then I’m gonna leave you with my cum in your pussy, baby.”

The smirk you had falters immediately. Your body betrays you—your mouth gasps at the first deep stroke, your fingers clutching the phone desperately as he hits your spot over and over and over again.

He presses his lips against yours, swallowing every broken moan, tasting the mess he’s turning you into. The kiss is sloppy, tongues sliding against each other, but it doesn’t matter—you’re both too far gone.

Your arms are shaking. The phone feels heavier with every thrust, but you refuse to let go.

And Heeseung notices.

He pulls away from your lips, smirking into the camera before glancing down at you. Your head falls limp in his grip just as he decides he’s done teasing—no more grazing your spot, no more holding back.

Now, he’s fucking you like he means it.

Your moans cut off into choked gasps as your body jerks, waves of pleasure building fast, and he’s laughing.

Yes, laughing.

You thought he was fucking you as hard as he could. He wasn’t.

And now, as you struggle to form a single coherent thought, as your mouth hangs open, drool pooling onto his forearm, and your legs shake violently around him—he knows it.

Heeseung looks straight into the camera like the cocky bastard he is, watching with deep satisfaction as you finally break—cumming all over his cock.

Jay

The two of you haven’t broken eye contact once since he pressed himself inside you.

His rhythm is steady, each slow, deliberate thrust sending heat crawling up your spine. His hands move over your skin gently, as if he’s savoring every second of you beneath him. There’s no rush—just the deep, quiet intimacy of him wrapped around you, inside you, owning you in every way.

“I’m going to miss you so much, baby.”

The words slip from his lips before he can stop them, his breath coming out shaky. He’s trying to keep it together—trying not to fall apart inside you right now—but you’re so wet, so fucking perfect around him, that every time he pulls out, your arousal drips onto his cock, making everything even messier.

“Mhm,” he groans at the feeling, his eyes fluttering briefly, his resolve crumbling.

You nod, but your attention shifts—you reach for his phone resting on the desk beside the bed.

For the first time tonight, his focus breaks from yours. His thrusts slow to a halt, brows furrowing as he watches you navigate to the camera.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, cheek brushing against yours as his eyes lock onto the screen.

And fuck—seeing himself on top of you, his body covering yours so perfectly, your legs tangled together, the way you look beneath him, utterly wrecked—it knocks the air from his lungs.

This is where you belong.

“Keep fucking me,” you purr, hitting record before turning back to him, running your tongue slowly up his jaw.

You feel it immediately. The way his heart starts pounding against your chest, the way his breath catches. For a moment, he’s frozen.

You know him.

He’s debating. Too caught off guard to think straight, too turned on to deny how fucking hot this is.

But when you buck your hips up at him—impatient, needy, determined—it’s over.

He lets out a low, shaky exhale.

“Keep fucking you?” he murmurs, voice dangerous, his eyes flickering from the screen back to you. “That’s what you want, baby? You wanna make a movie with me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, melting into him, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

That’s all he needs to hear.

Jay repositions, gripping your waist firmly before rolling his hips deep into you, his slow, calculated strokes picking up right where they left off—except now, there’s something different.

Something carnal.

Something desperate.

Every movement feels like he’s drowning in you, like he’s trying to memorize you, burn this moment into his brain before the night is over.

His forehead presses against yours, sweat beading at his temple, his breath heavy, and then—his lips find yours.

But it’s not just a kiss.

It’s hungry, messy, so deep and intoxicating that your grip on the phone nearly slips. His tongue slides past your lips, exploring your mouth with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine. You can taste the heat between you—the need, the addiction, the way his desire for you is threatening to swallow him whole.

And when your moans start spilling out, mixing with his, when your bodies move in sync, when the air between you becomes so thick with tension it’s unbearable—he loses himself completely.

Jay’s grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts turning harder, faster, as if he’s holding onto you for dear life. The desperation in his movements, in the way he’s clinging to you, in the way he presses himself closer, deeper, stronger—it all tells you exactly what he can’t say out loud.

This isn’t just about sex.

This is him worshipping you.

And judging by the way your body is already unraveling beneath him, how your fingers claw into his back, how you gasp his name, he knows you feel it too.

Jake

The two of you were always so in sync, and right now, it’s no different. You reach for his phone, fingers brushing the screen, but before you can even get a grip on it, Jake’s hand is already there. His movements are fluid, controlled—his thumb already swiping across the screen, unlocking it like he’s done it a hundred times before, with the same quiet confidence that always radiates from him.

“You want to record this, huh?” he murmurs, voice steady, with that teasing edge you love. There’s no question in his tone, only the kind of quiet understanding that makes your pulse quicken. He doesn’t even need to ask if you’re sure. His gaze is dark, expectant, as he angles the phone, positioning it with a practiced hand. The smirk on his lips tells you this wasn’t something you had to suggest—he had already thought of it before you did.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words die in your throat as he leans in, just close enough for you to feel his breath against your ear. “Don’t worry, baby. I got us covered,” he whispers, his voice rich and low, sending a shiver down your spine. There’s something about the way he’s in control, about how he already knows what you want before you even have to ask, that makes everything feel even more intimate, more thrilling.

He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your jaw, his lips moving slowly down your neck, tracing a path of warmth that lingers long after he’s pulled away. Meanwhile, his hand slips to your waist, pulling you in closer, just like he knows you want him to. You can’t help but melt against him, your breath hitching as you feel him respond to the subtle shift in your body. His touch becomes deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second of this, every inch of skin he’s allowed to claim.

You don’t wait for him to take control completely. Instead, you lean back slightly, giving him a mockingly innocent look before you tease, “You know, this is all for you, right?”

He meets your eyes then, his expression soft yet burning with intensity. The phone is positioned just right, the screen capturing both your faces, but there’s something in the way he looks at you now—something deeper than desire. It’s a look that says he’s not just giving you a memory for later. He’s creating a moment between you two, one that’s real and raw and completely consumed with the heat of the now.

Without breaking eye contact, he moves again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so slow, it feels like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you. His body presses against yours, slow, controlled—yet there’s an undeniable urgency, the rhythm of your connection building like a steady tide. He’s savoring the way you respond to him, the way you press back into him, and the way his own pulse quickens, matching yours.

His fingers slip beneath your shirt, tracing the outline of your spine, each touch deliberate and slow. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful.” The phone captures everything—your flushed face, his darkened gaze, the quiet sounds of your breaths filling the space around you. The knowledge that this moment is being preserved only makes everything feel even more intense, more intimate.

“It’s all mine? Hm?” He questions, his keeping your legs open and sturdy.

“Every inch.” You chuckle seductively.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon’s rhythm is steady, his pace slow, deep, and controlled.

He’s taking his time with you—dragging it out, making every thrust count, savoring the way you squeeze around him like you never want to let him go.

And fuck, you don’t.

Not when this is the last time you’ll have him like this for weeks—maybe months.

His grip on your waist tightens, his movements fluid, effortless, like he knows exactly how to pull you apart. The way his jaw clenches, his brows furrow—he’s focused, determined, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s just as caught up in this as you are.

And that’s when you do it.

You reach for his phone.

Not sneaky. Not hesitant. Just bold as hell.

Sunghoon barely has time to process what’s happening before he feels the shift—your fingers wrapping around the device, unlocking it like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

His thrusts slow, his eyes flicking down to where you hold the phone, the screen lighting up against the dim room.

His gaze snaps back to yours.

“What are you doing?” he breathes, voice rough, his forehead nearly touching yours.

You smirk, lifting the phone just enough to angle the camera, your expression playful but knowing.

“Leaving you a present.”

The second the words leave your mouth, something in him snaps.

His grip on your hips tightens, his pace picking up instantly, his cock slamming into you with a sharp, deliberate force that knocks the air from your lungs.

“Oh, you wanna leave me a present, hm?” he taunts, voice dark, amused. His hand wraps around your throat, his thumb pressing just enough to make your pulse spike. “You want me to have something to watch while I’m gone?”

You nod, biting your lip, eyes fluttering at the way his dominance overtakes you completely.

He grabs the phone from your hands—angles it perfectly, just enough to capture your wrecked expression, the way your body bounces with every sharp thrust.

“Look at you,” he breathes, dragging his tongue along his bottom lip. “You want me to watch this when I’m gone? Want me to jerk off to the way I fuck you?”

Your fingers claw at his back, your mouth opening to respond, but the words come out broken—nothing but desperate moans spilling past your lips.

And he loves it.

His smirk widens, his thrusts turning brutal, each stroke hitting deeper, sharper—like he’s making sure you won’t forget this either.

“Mmm, yeah,” he groans, staring into the camera like the cocky bastard he is. “You’re not gonna last, baby. Look at you—already falling apart on me.”

His grip tightens on your jaw, tilting your face so you’re forced to look at the screen.

Forced to watch how good he’s fucking you.

Your breath stutters, body trembling, and the second he lowers the phone, capturing the way he disappears into you with every stroke, you feel yourself snap.

He grins, watching you fall apart, his own restraint slipping as he chases his high, his movements growing erratic, desperate, possessive.

And when he finally buries himself deep, spilling inside you with a shuddered groan, he tilts the camera back up—catching the way your lips part, the way your body still twitches from the aftershocks.

The way you’re still his.

Sunghoon smirks into the camera, lifting a brow as he murmurs—

“Yeah… this’ll do.”

Sunoo

It’s soft at first.

Sunoo moves slowly, rolling his hips into you with lazy, teasing strokes, his lips brushing against yours, his breath warm, sweet, intoxicating.

His fingertips trace nonsense shapes against your waist, his touch light, playful—like he’s taking his time, like he’s enjoying just being here, feeling you wrapped around him.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he hums, voice dripping with affection, amusement.

He’s smiling against your lips, his tone saccharine, but you can feel the heat behind it—the way his movements are just a little too calculated, the way he’s holding back.

You can tell he’s waiting.

Waiting for you to lose patience.

And of course, you do.

Your fingers curl around his phone, grabbing it from where it rests on the pillow beside you.

Not sneaky. Not shy.

Just bold.

Sunoo feels it immediately—the slight shift in balance, the way your grip tightens, the way the dim glow of the screen illuminates your face.

His rhythm falters.

For the first time tonight, his movements pause.

And when he finally pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes—

The look on his face?

Deadly.

His lips curl into a slow, wicked smirk, his expression shifting from sweet to something far more dangerous.

“What’s this?” he purrs, his tone still light, teasing, but you can hear the mischief lurking underneath.

You bite your lip, angling the camera just right, making sure it captures everything—the way he’s hovering over you, the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, the way his bare shoulders glow under the dim lighting.

“Leaving you a present,” you murmur, voice dripping with seduction.

His brows raise, his smirk widening.

“Oh?”

Then—

He snatches the phone from your grip.

And suddenly, you’re no longer the one in control.

He lights up, his playfulness turning deadly, consuming.

He flips the camera, making sure it’s on you.

Making sure you see what he sees.

“Oh, you like watching yourself get ruined?” he breathes, tilting his head, his fingers gripping your jaw as he angles the phone perfectly.

You barely have time to process the shift before his hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has your eyes rolling back.

You gasp, your body jolting, but all you hear is him laughing.

Laughing.

Like he loves seeing you like this.

“Mm, baby, look at you,” he coos, pressing his lips to your cheek before pulling back just enough to let you see yourself on the screen.

The way your body shakes, the way your mouth hangs open, the way your fingers are digging into his back—it’s a sight.

And Sunoo?

He’s fucking living for it.

“This is cute,” he murmurs, smirking as he presses a soft, almost mocking kiss to your lips. “I’ll make sure to save it.”

His pace doesn’t falter once.

If anything, he deepens it, making sure you feel every inch of him, every stroke, making sure you know that even when he’s teasing you, he’s still in full control.

And when you finally fall apart, body shaking, back arching, his eyes gleam with pure satisfaction.

He presses one last kiss to your jaw before looking straight into the camera—

And winking.

Jungwon

Your legs are spread over his lap, body flush against his, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Jungwon never rushes.

His pace is calculated, his movements fluid—each slow, deep thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin.

He’s watching you.

Observing every little reaction—the way your fingers twitch against his chest, the way your breath stutters when he shifts his hips just right, the way your thighs start to tremble, like you’re already on the verge of breaking.

And he loves it.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, voice soft, almost teasing. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your arms tightening around his shoulders.

“You think so?” you challenge, a playful lilt to your voice.

And then—without hesitation—you reach for his phone, snatching it from where it rests on the bed beside him.

His eyes darken immediately.

His movements stop.

The playful smirk on your lips falters slightly as you look up at him, finding his expression unreadable—his jaw tight, gaze sharp.

For a second, he doesn’t say anything.

He just watches.

Then—his lips curl into a slow, knowing smirk.

“You wanna test me, baby?”

Your breath catches.

Before you can respond, he moves.

With effortless strength, he shifts, his grip on your waist tightening as he flips you onto your back in one smooth motion.

You barely have time to react before he’s on you, his body caging you in, his knee pressing between your legs, keeping them wide open.

“Go ahead.”

His voice is low, commanding.

He nudges the phone toward you, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“If you’re gonna record, do it right.”

Your lips part, a shiver running down your spine at the sudden shift in power.

Jungwon leans in, pressing his mouth to the corner of your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

“Make sure you get all of it.”

You barely manage to hit record before he snaps his hips forward, the force of it making your back arch off the bed, a choked gasp escaping your lips.

He laughs, low and satisfied.

“What’s wrong?” he taunts, his hand gripping your throat lightly, tilting your head up so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. “You started this, baby. You can take it, right?”

The camera is still rolling, capturing everything—the way your body jolts with every precise, unrelenting thrust, the way his expression remains so calm, collected, like he’s barely even trying.

And then—he looks straight into the camera.

“This is what you wanted, huh?”

His pace doesn’t falter, his grip on your throat keeping you in place as he watches you come undone beneath him.

And just when you think he’s going to let you go, just when you think you’ve reached your limit—

His fingers slide between your thighs, pressing against your swollen clit with dangerous precision.

Your body jerks, a broken sob slipping from your lips, your vision blurring.

Jungwon smirks.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as your body trembles in his hold. “Now, let’s make sure you remember this, too.”

[emidescent]

Anti Capitalism Cone

A HDG Microfic. Featuring Forcefem, and a ward who just needs a little push.

“...you're evil" 

“Oh petal, it's really not that bad. It makes you look cute!" 

“It makes me look like a girl" 

“Do I need to say it for you or~" 

“All the stories were true" 

“Only the fun ones~" 

“Just send me to the mines" 

“You want another Minecraft playdate with Lacy?

"... Yes. But that's not the point!”

I gestured to the floor length skirt I had woken up in.

"WHYAMIINADRESS!”

Espirina, my ‘warden’ shrugged, her vines subtly adjusting the pleats of the skirt.

"You kept trying to pay for things, it's a symptom of capitalism poisoning.

So we had to put you in a cone so you couldn't reach for any theoretical wallets." 

“A CONE!?!? LIKE A PE~

I stopped myself before I said something I couldn't take back. I slipped off the edge of the bed and paced around the room.

“A plausible excuse. But as I'm sure you're aware, I'm not wearing pants." 

I stared at her, hoping looks could kill. Or at least maim. Wilt?

“Well you're already wearing the cone. And it's rather fashionable, why wear pants as well?" 

“And the matching shirt?" 

“Ward or not, I refuse to have anyone under my care look bad”

"You also did something to my hair, I can feel it”

She smirked and looked away.

"I did, but you'll have to find a mirror to see what I changed.”

"Well I would.”

I gestured around the room

"But somebody turned all the mirrors off.”

I said, as dry as I could muster.

"Petal… you kept flinching and wincing every time you looked in one, it's for your own good…" 

She looked down at me with a sad look in her eyes.

It was my turn to look away, It was true.

But she didn't have to say it out loud.

"So… what's today's agenda?”

She perked up, taking my hand and leading me out into the main room of the hab. Was she always this tall?

“We're going to be testing out the cone by taking you to a cafe. Also, I need you to take this pill" 

She held out a hand, revealing a small flower shaped pill in the centre.”

" What is i~”

"Open~”

My mouth dropped open obediently, and she quickly slipped the pill in my mouth. It dissolved on my tongue.

It was sweet.

Tingly.

I…

I….

I don't know what happened there.

My cheeks felt warm.

Before I could compose myself I was being dragged outside.

Down the path outside my warden's hab and onto the street.

The cafe wasn't exactly far.

But I wasn't looking forward to the prospect of walking so far in heels.

Wait…

Heels?

I looked down, but couldn't see past the hem of the skirt, and whenever I tried to stick my foot out the skirt followed.

I grabbed at the fabric, trying to pull it up. But it kept slipping out of my hands.

"Sweetie, I know you're desperate to show off.

But I don't think public exposure is the ideal first step.”

My cheeks burned harder.

" S-shut up, I'll make you p…”

My words faltered on my lips.

“I-ill make you pa…”

The word felt weird on my tongue.

" Wha-”

Before I could finish the thought I was plucked off my feet and held by my warden.

I yelped and grabbed at the vines making up her chest.

"Espirina!”

The soft fabric of the skirt pressed up against my legs, and I noticed something for the first time.

"Did you shave my legs!?”

I squeaked out, shivering at the unfamiliar feeling. Deciding the burning feeling on my cheeks was from the embarrassment and NOT because I was being bridal carried by a very pretty plant.

“Yes" 

She looked down at me in her arms.

A new look in her eyes.

A dangerous look.

“Would you like an itemized list? Or would you prefer they keep being surprises~" 

I couldn't speak, she interpreted that into an answer and began carrying me to the cafe.

Before long I was the focus of every passing affini.

I hid from their stares and delighted coos in Espirina’s chest. It felt… Comforting somehow…

Fortunately the destination wasn't too far away.

And I found myself placed at the counter. Staring into the eyes of the floret on the other side.

… She was shorter than me last time we were here. What was going on.

Before I could question my warden the floret squealed in delight and began jumping up and down.

I backed up into Espirina, unsure what was happening.

A  vine shot out of a doorway in the back and jabbed the girl in the thigh.

She slowly settled down from squealing with joy to vibrating with excitement.

“Haha-ha-ha… sorry, I don't often see such a CUTIE! come by. Especially one I haven't seen before.

But… we only saw each other like… a day ago.

Wha-

I looked up at my warden, who shrugged innocently.

“We’ll have my usual mineral blend water and a hot chocolate.”

Oh right, the cafe.

I tried to reach for my wallet, but was met with fabric.

The other side?

Nothing there either.

This thing had to have pockets somewhere. This was the compact for stars sake. I tried pulling the dress up to get underneath it.

But it just slipped out of my hands again.

“Oh, my stars" 

The waitress gasped.

“Are you trying to curtsey?!" 

“N-no! I-i’m trying to p-”

I tried to defend myself.

“I want to p-” 

The words got stuck on my tongue.

I froze, my face burning so hard I was certain it was never going back to normal.

I didn't know what to do.

Fortunately Espirina picked me up and carried me over to a booth. Placing me down inside it and sitting opposite.

I still struggled to think clearly until the cup of hot chocolate was placed under my nose.

I blinked a few times. Looking up at Espirina, and the drink she held out to me 

I took it gratefully, taking a long sip.

I felt the warmth spread through me.

At least… I had Espirina. She was nice, and very helpful.

Maybe after my wardship ends we could still remain friends.

That would be nice.

I kept slowly sipping at my tea, looking out the window.

My eyes caught someone else's just on the other side of the window.

She was so pretty, curly hair, a cute blouse.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

Stars she really was pretty.

Maybe I could-

No, Affini medicine was amazing, but there was no way it could do that to me.

I took another sip.

She did the same.

Haha, what timing.

She giggled when I did.

Wow, we really were in sync.

We…

Oh.

Oh

I looked at Espirina in alarm.

“Tha- wha- who- huh- me???”

I looked back between the window and her.

My reflection following me perfectly.

“Yes dear?”

“Really?!”

“Yes dear~”

“you made me look like a gir?l" 

“Do I need to say it for you or~" 

“All the stories were true~" 

“Only the fun ones~" 

“Does that mean…”

“If you'd like to”

“I would… Mistress”

[lvmimis]

cw: you are a fallen angel. female pronouns.

Hurtling through time and space, you can barely remember what caused your misstep through the very surface of your realm versus the realm of humans, but your plummet is so fast and sudden that you have barely any time to react. Your wings, useless at your side, are too slow to expand and break your fall, and your lungs are similarly unable to draw air into your lungs.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your sight failing you, and you fall, you fall, you fall, until you land suddenly, and with a shock, the impact is not sudden - it does not threaten to shatter your spine or jostle the very contents of your skull or turn your soft parts into mush. Instead, you are cradled - carried, perhaps? - in someone’s arms, wrapped securely as though in twine, and your eyes shoot back open.

Air enters your chest in a sudden heave, and you exhale sharply, briny air and warmth in your passageways.

Your eyes shoot wide open, and immediately, you’re staring into a pair of surprised and intrigued brown eyes.

“Hey, I think I… caught something?”

The man who the eyes belong to, a gently tanned face with sloping waves of dark hair, continues to observe you carefully, too close, and soon you realize the rope around you with a human warmth happens to be his arms, snapping back into place as he lays you down onto the deck of the large boat you’re both in.

You blink, things appearing a little too surreal. He kneels to examine you further, then reaches for your wings, but stops just before touching them. You are thankful for the display of respect.

He’s human. No halo, no wings, no heavenly luminescence. Your eyes lower to an x-shaped mark on his chest, and wonder what could have caused such a dense scar, appearing burned at the edges. There is another scar you notice underneath his left eye that appears more subtle. While a relatively solid build and messy hair lends to a more rugged appearance, he appears visibly gentle. Kind, even.

The others approaching you too are human, two young women, one with raven-colored hair and the other with reddish locks, another man looking from afar with green hair and sleepy expression, and the one closest to the two of you with a nose that is not unlike that of a tengu. A small animal-like creature with human speech also approaches and observes you from a safer distance than the man who broke your fall. 

“Hey. Can you understand me?”

The wavy haired man’s voice has a light quality to it, as though he rarely has experienced hardship. You don’t answer immediately and he waves his hand in front of your face.

You frown, and the celestial markings on your arms and legs glow faintly. 

“I’m not deaf or dumb, I am simply disoriented,” you murmur. The tengu-faced man leaps back closer to the women, as if startled by your voice, but the raven-haired woman moves a step closer.

“Can you tell us where you come from?”

You pause, biting your lip. The answer being heaven will undoubtedly strike fear in their heart.

“It has to be Skypiea, Robin, her wings might just be weirdly big,” the dark-haired man answers too confidently, and Robin, addressed, smiles at him much like an older sister would as she squats beside him.

“Luffy, don’t be stupid,” the redhead replies, but she’s staring at your large wings too, and you can tell she’s wondering if he’s right.

You don’t know what Skypiea is. And your wings are perfectly normal; the idea of them looking ‘weird’ almost upsets you.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you crawl back for personal space and try to rise, but neither your wings nor your legs will support your weight. Forcing yourself onto your feet, you wince, realizing that you are suddenly far too weak.

You are not supposed to be here, you only watch humans from afar.

Before you collapse again, Luffy extends another hand to support you, and in moments, has secured you right back off your feet.

“Hey Chopper, where can I put her? She looks like she’s ill.”

“Wait I-” Luffy pauses and tilts his head towards you, waiting for you to continue your sentence,and suddenly you can feel your cheeks burning. The sun beats heavily on the ship, but you find that this human entrances you a little more than the others. You don’t like that.

“I promise we’re not bad guys,” he offers reassuringly. 

Somehow, you already knew that.

“Just follow me to my office.” Without consequence, the animal-human walks quickly towards somewhere, you don’t know where, and you’re surprised at how quickly Luffy follows.

“You can leave whenever you want, but let’s make sure we get you squared up first,” he says, a bit softer, as if he’s trying to pacify you. It works, far too easily. You wonder how easily he talks other humans into things. 

Your wings tuck closer into your body. If you were going to fall out of heaven, perhaps it’s a good thing you managed to land in this soft place.

“Welcome to the Thousand Sunny.”

[deadrobinthoughts]

⚠︎ tied with intention : tim.

⋆˙⟡ "You're such a mess.. shaking, crying like this. You don't even realize how perfect you are, do you?"

⋆˙⟡ request: going off your hc post, i need tim to do the hair tie thing before going down on his lover thanks for that ↦ kalico note: apparently, this is my punishment for putting messy, long haired + 90s attitude tim in peoples head.. + rated post, respect my rules. i do not care that it's mostly just vague bs.

the lamp light is low and the room is quiet. the kind of quiet that hums with anticipation. you weren't entirely sure how you got here, back against the headboard and legs open. loose, lazy but not uninviting by any means.

tim’s already between them, still fully clothed, unsurprising. always tactical. composed. the same intense tim that stalks around like he's planning to murder half the people who bother him.

tonight, though, there's something different that you can't name. you're watching him, wondering if it's your own nerves or if he's planning something.

granted, he's always planning something.

he kneels, palms warm against your thighs. he doesn't say anything, just looks at you for a moment.

it's brief but you can see it, the barely contained hunger. any other day and you'd already be teasing him, but you suddenly can't find the words.

your gaze follows as he brings his wrist to his mouth, teeth catching the thin, black hair tie that's settled around it. the one that's always there or discarded on the nightstand.

he keeps it there, hanging against his bottom lip.

you have to stop yourself from shifting, from letting your nerves get the best of you. because you've seen this display before.

it’s not vulgar. it’s not even explicit. it’s the control, the fluid movements - the message behind it all.

he’s going to take his time.

tim lifts both hands, fingers threading into the shoulder length mess of dark hair before carefully collecting it. you watch the way his biceps flex, the way his jaw tightens as he works out a tangle.

the hair tie slips from his mouth into his hand, and in a single, practiced twist, he pulls his hair into a messy, barely contained half bun.

you're genuinely unsure of how to breathe for a moment, because god, he's hot. you can't even believe your response to the scene was so.. juvenile.

wanting to reach for him, your fingers curl into the sheets below, knowing the show of desperation will only get you a raised brow. he doesn't like being rushed, doesn't like being interrupted.

not for something like this.

you barely have time to think before he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. a reverent, lingering kiss. the kind of gesture that says; you’ve been on my mind all day.

his hands slide up your legs, thumbs pressing just so into the skin, over muscle and twitching nerves. he kisses again, closer now.

again; slow, just above the knee. getting even closer. he noses along the crease of your thigh, one arm sliding under your thigh, hand curling to grip onto you, coaxing your legs further.

his breath is warm when it ghosts across you, something that sends a chill down your spine. he finally speaks, a low mumble, lips far too close to brushing against sensitive skin;

"gonna let me stay here a while?"

you nod. maybe you breathe his name, you're not even sure. it doesnt really matter, not when he’s already smiling against your skin, already shifting lower like neither of you have anywhere to go for the rest of the evening.

the first real contact makes you jerk the tiniest bit and he barely acknowledges it, just tightens his grip and presses his tongue just a little harder.

you aren't sure whether to call him a show off or a bastard.

focused.

the last thing you see before your head falls back and your lips part to beg and moan, is the look on his face.

determined. mildly amused. focused. like he's about to devour, memorize, worship every inch of you until you can't remember your own name.

because when tim drake decides to love you, it's not always soft.

it's teeth and tongue, and trembling devotion.

it always ends with him whispering how beautiful you are; sobbing and shaking, whimpering his name like some kind of prayer.

[biteyoubiteme]

I've got you

taehyun x fem!reader warnings: 🔞!!! established relationship, clit play, strength kink, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry wc: 2.5k an: this was requested by the lovely @luvsicktyun ily you always know what I need to write next >< I hope you like it :)) not proofread forgive me pls pls pls [m.list]

Your hand was steady on the wall, cold and firm as you shook your head, “No, I can't let go,” taehyun had heard the persistent denial to never release the barrier the second you had held on. Legs trembling and arms wide as soon as you stepped on the ice. You hadn't even fallen but the stumble after hitting one little dip had been enough to scare you into place now. 

“I've got you,” his voice was a smooth balm of reassurance over your twisted fear and yet you held your ground. “This was a horrible idea, you proved your point, it is more than just skating around and chasing a puck, its precision,” it had been the word taehyun had brought up in defense of your mindless teasing. 

And it wasn't as if you didn't appreciate the sport. You had spent countless hours sitting right up in the bleachers a few steps away. Watching Tae as he went around the rink for practice. The loud ring of the coach's whistle making it past your headphones time and time again pulling your gaze up from your book like a direct call to catch sight of your boyfriend.  You knew the sport was hard, knew it took skill, and work outside and on the ice but it hadn’t hit you until that very second that even the basics would feel this difficult. 

“You didn't even fall,” he was giggling at you, dimple on his cheek a single point for you to focus your pout on. 

“Don't laugh,” but it was hard not to feel your own chuckle bubbling up to follow his. 

“I'm not,” his lips sealing as he tried and failed to rid himself of his smile. “You just hate that you're not instantly good at something, come on just one more try, I won't even let go,” he had kept one hand close to you the entire time the two of you had been out on the empty rink. Even your almost fall had been guarded by the faint heat coming from Taehyun'spalm waiting at your waist. Now with him crowding your back, guiding you with his gentle hold on your hands there was little excuse as to why you shouldn't let him lead you. 

“Okay…” there was still the faint fragility hidden in your voice as you let go of the wall, lined with the scratched plexiglass meant to protect those sitting around the bleachers from a flying puck. You had never wanted to venture out this far onto the ice, waiting right out of the gate once practice was over was fine enough. But Taehyun had talked about taking you out to learn to skate even before the two of you started to date officially. Even that first night when the two of you had met, your confession of never having even been in a building holding a rink still fresh between the two of you when he let the words fall, I could teach you to skate. He had been just as captivating then, head slightly tilted as if tuning out the rest of the room, his sole focus on you as he blinked, eyes falling to your mouth only long enough for you to notice the butterflies blooming in your belly. 

You had made a promise that night in agreement, flippantly and now regrettably as you felt your left foot slip out from under you. But Taehyun did not let you fall, his hold unmoving as he righted your movements before you could reach for the wall for comfort again. The two of you shouldn't have even been on the ice, the extra skates left on the counter, cleaned, and pulling the two of you to the ice without a second thought. But your skirt did not provide any cover if you fell, the ice unforgiving enough to leave half the team with bruises from their ankles to their chin, although taehyun reminds you that they get the injuries from playing not skating around the rink a few times.

“See one foot after the other, just glide,” taehyun keeps his stance wide enough so that he can demonstrate what foot should go next, the perfect mirror as he pushes off helping you finally make it even just a few feet from where you had entered on the ice. “Look at that, you're a natural, sweetheart,” but you're still holding onto his hands in a way that tells him he won't be able to pry you free. 

It had taken a bit of convincing to even have you slip the skates on, him getting down to one knee, patting his thigh as the final say-so. You had obliged, letting him tie the skates on tight enough to keep your ankles secured and help you wattle out to the ice. And once you got the hang of the easy motions without feeling as if you were going to fall, Taehyun switched to skating backward in front of you. His hands in yours, warm thumbs brushing over your knuckles as a silent reminder that he wouldn't let you fall if he could help it. 

But you were doing better, confidence built after the single lap you had made around half in his arms and half just like this but taehyun was loosening his grip, “you've got it, I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his encouragement giving you enough strength to finally let go. For a second it feels like you will fall, stomach turning for as long as it takes you to stabilize yourself, arms wide on either side of you as you look up at taehyun and his proud grin. 

“I did it!” your voice is dipped in disbelief, even if you're hardly moving, standing there frozen in the middle of the rink. And it's worth the slight fear when Taehyun is looking at you like that, caught there with his smile, his happiness funneling into you. It had taken a lot to get you to find your footing, gliding in the same strokes that he had shown you. 

You're skating was not perfect, Taehyun watched the way you didn't push off until you were done letting the ice drift you to a stop like a little baby deer on a lake iced over for the winter. Your face heated from the blood rushing to warm your features, your fingers numb and trying to find heat in Taehyun's grasp when the two of you finally started to make it back off the ice.

It started innocently, your foot resting right on his thigh as he helped to undo the tight laces he had done up, his hand staying right on your calf finger lightly tracing patterns on your skin like he had all day to spend right there in the locker room. You were leaning back on your hands looking down at him when he tilted his chin, “You know I always hated how we had to drive all the way home after a game before I could finally fuck you,” 

There was a stutter in your breathing, your knees only slightly pulling in together like the anticipation of his next move made you react without a second thought. The sight of the movement was right on the edge of his vision, his grin loose enough to tell you his intentions with the comment. He let his fingers slip up your leg, finding the warm skin on your thigh even more enticing when it's just under your skirt. “I told you we can always pull over,” your voice is nothing more than a whisper. 

“Hum,” he shrugged as if he was taking in the suggestion for review, fingers going higher and higher, right until you could just feel the ghost of his touch warm against your panties, “but I know myself, I need space to make sure I have room to get my girl off just right,” it's the last thing he says before you're gasping, the pad of his thumb pressed right over your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles just to watch the way your brows scrunch in a soft pout, knees pulling in to trap his hand right in place.

“Tae-” You didn't want him to stop, but your eyes instantly flicked to the door behind him, the two of you shouldn't have even been here this late, any of the roaming staff could walk in to find you falling apart right here with only his fingers. 

“Worried? We only have the one door in and if we block it the only thing we would have to be mindful of is the noise,” he says it right on the edge of your whine, the sound rising in your throat the second he picked up a faster pace on your clit, fingers slipping along the wetness building up. “But you'll be quiet, won't you sweetheart?” 

You nodded, chin dipping enough so that he knew you would comply with anything that he said especially when he wastouching you like this. It was enough so that he pulled the two of you up, hands all over you, desperately pulling you closer for a kiss. Fervent as if it was the first time, stumbling as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Taehyun pressed you against the door, hips locking you in place as he pressed sloppy kisses down your neck. “You're already so hard for me,” voice pierced through with a bit of teasing, his hand running down the curve of your ass to hook your thigh in his grasp, hiking your leg up to open you wide enough to grind his hard bulge right against your soaked panties. 

The vibration of his humming response was pressed right to your pulse point, “I can't help it,”  the words less of a confession and more of a statement, because he had made it clear time and time again how easy it was to pull a reaction from him when it came to you. Hard after nothing but a single thought and there on his knees he had the smallest glimpse of the white fabric outlining your cunt, there was no going back now, not when you were grinding back chasing the friction of him. 

It was easy for him to slip his free hand down between the two of you, pushing your panties aside and soaking in the way your body trembled at the brush of his warm fingers back on your clit. All talk of being quiet fell from your mind the second he started to drag his fingers through your slick folds, your soft moan echoing in the empty locker room. “Tell me you need me just as bad,” his kisses leading from your jaw right back to your mouth, your response caught right on the edge of his mouth, “please… I need you,” 

You whimpered when he pulled his hand away from the slow circles he had been tracing against your clit, his hand fumbling with the button of his jeans, zipping the zipper down to tug himself free from the fabric. Your arms wrap around his neck, your breathing shallow as you watch him pump slow strokes along his cock, flush and already leaking pre-cum. The sight alone made you clench around nothing, aching to have him as close as you could possibly get him. His fingers on your thigh dug into your skin as he muttered, “Jump,” 

It was a simple enough command, his hold unwavering just as it had been on the ice, his hands cupping your ass as you leaned your back against the door behind you now effectively pinned in place by taehyun. He had always been strong, bands of muscle lining his arms, no strain of effort written across his brow, not when he was focused on lifting you just right so that he could run the tip of his cock between your slick folds, relishing in your soft mewls as he just barely breached your entrance. 

The room is a chorus of both of your moans as he lowers you on his cock, your body sinking all the way down, the back of your knees fitting perfectly against the pit of his elbows, fingers digging into your ass in a near bruising hold. The angle pushing him in deep enough to make your lashes flutter, arms tightening, nails scratching along his scalp as you tug his hair. He leaned in close, capturing your mouth only to find himself groaning against your lips as he found the perfect steady pace to rock his hips to. 

He wouldn't care if anyone did hear the two of you, not when he was this lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing him enough to make his mind lose itself to the feeling, hips having a mind of their own as he picks up his pace. “You feel so fucking perfect,” the words swallowed in the mix of your kisses, his mouth hot as he leans to press his face into the crook of your neck, the sounds of your bodies meeting coating the air. 

You could feel the build up of your orgasm in your stomach, every stroke of his hips snapping against yours tightening the ball of your sanity until it was ready to burst. “I'm close Tae- I'm so-” you were gasping, his cock twitching as his thrust turned sloppy at your words. He was always so in tune with your body, knowing you were close, knowing it was him thatwas bringing you closer to the edge was enough to carry him right to that cliff with you. 

“I've got you, sweetheart,” his open-mouthed kisses leading right up to your ear, “I need to feel you finish on my cock, please,” it was the ribbon of desperation tied around the final word that pushed you over the edge, back arching as you let your head roll, your moans leaving you as if he knew the exact way to pull them free. Your fluttering cunt triggered his orgasm, his hips jerking, husky moans now drawn out and rumbling in his chest as he spills ropes of his cum into you without care. Every slow drag of his cock only made you tremble from the sensitivity as he let the two of you ride out your high. 

You knew the second he tried to put you down your legs would feel wobbly, your arms tightening around him as if mentally preparing yourself for the struggle. “Careful I might topple over if you put me down,” 

His chuckle was followed by a peppering of kisses along your cheek, his softening cock pulling out of you before he helped you put one leg to the ground, moving your panties back into place so that the mess he had made of you wouldn'tspill. “I could just carry you all the way to the car,” he let you lean on him, your knees just as weak as you knew they would be, thighs shaking as he softly kissed the edge of your smile, “lay you down in the backseat and see how much more room there is to ruin you back there than in the front,” 

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[fantasydreamland]

A Taste of Autumn

eris vanserra x fem reader

Summary: Your mating bond snaps into place causing you to get caught in the act. The entire inner circle finally discovers who your mate is and a storm erupts but you end up exactly where you belong.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, lots of angst, FLUFF, mating bond, family drama, happy ending, public x, getting caught, p in v, oral (m&f), i need a cold shower

Word count: 4.7k

PART ONE

PART TWO

masterlist

taglist

request where the inner circle finds out about you & Eris ~ with oops a lot of smut x

You wake up to the sun rising, orange light filling the quiet room. Eris still had his warm arms wrapped around you. You shuffle around to face him, his sleepy arms limply falling off you. A soft content sigh passes your lips as you stare at him, taking in every detail of his face. Your eyes follow along the countless freckles across his sun kissed skin and painted across his pointed nose. His pretty lips slightly parted as he breathes gently in his sleep. Your fingers come up to brush a piece of his beautiful orange hair from his face causing him to slightly stir. His eyes slowly flutter open and the piercing ambers meet you gaze as you smile at him. He smiles sleepily back and you couldn’t help but think he looks like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Your eyes wander down his tone chest until they reach the tent in the blanket covering him. The temptation sparks an idea in you and he moans softly when your lips suddenly begin to move along his neck. Your mouth continues its journey down his body, leaving little love marks along the way. When you reach the end of his torso he looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes. You smirk mischievously up at him and watch his member twitch from the sight of you looking up at him like that.

You give a small lick up his hardness and watch as he throws his head back against the pillow. You take your time teasing him, swirling your tongue around the tip and licking up his length but never fully putting him into your mouth. You smirk to yourself watching him squirm beneath you as small whines escape him.

Just when you know he’s about to beg for more you take him as far as you can down your throat, slightly gagging before moving back up. He groans loudly and his hand reaches down to softly thread his fingers through your hair. You continue to bob your head up and down along his length as he bucks into your mouth.

“Wait…” He says in a breathless whisper you hardly hear.

You give a hard suck on his tip and he groans as his fingers squeeze harder in your hair.

“F-fuck (y/n)…” He chokes out, the sinful sound of it shooting straight to your core.

He throws his head back with a loud groan as he spills into your mouth, hips bucking into your face as you work him through his orgasm.

You crawl back up the bed and lay beside him as he catches his breath. After a moment his head turns to you with a dark look in his firey eyes that send shivers down your spine.

He quickly crawls over you and before you even have time to process what he’s doing he’s throwing your legs over his shoulders and his mouth is on your core. You gasp as his tongue works wonders on you and your heels press into his strong back.

“Eris…” You say in a whispery breath.

He growls in response, the sound vibrating against you and pushing you closer to the edge.

“Say it again.” He says in a low commanding voice that gives you chills.

“Eris…” You breathe and he groans against you again as his tongue dips into your entrance. “Eris… Eris… Eris…” You chant his name in a whisper, though you’re unsure if he can still hear you with the way your thighs now squeezed around his head.

His slender fingers slipping inside you is your undoing, you quickly grab a pillow to cover your face and moan loudly into it as your orgasm overtakes you. Eris works you through it, smirking smugly against you as you involuntarily buck your hips against his face.

Now you are the one laying there panting, mind still spinning like a tornado. Eris crawls up the bed and lays back beside you, his firey hair a total mess and a satisfied smirk on his devilishly handsome face.

“I am not ready to leave you.” Eris says quietly, his smirk fading into almost sadness.

“Then stay.” You offer with a soft smile.

“Yeah right.” He chuckles and you look to him in offence. “Morrigan will be home any day now, she would have my head if I overstayed my welcome here. In her opinion, I probably already have.”

You frown and let out a disappointed sigh knowing he is right.

“Why don’t you come live with me in Autumn?”

“What?” You ask with a confused and surprised smile. “I… I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Eris challenges. “Your family has no need of you right now, and if they do they can always call on you. Though, I’d always want you to return home to me.”

“Home?” You say with the same confused and surprised smile.

“You said it yourself you have always loved the season, always waiting for it to come. It’s autumn year round there.”

“What about your father? I don’t think he would want me to intrude on his life.”

“Beron is far too busy focusing on himself to care at this point. Besides, it’s a large place and I’ve gotten very good at knowing where to avoid him.”

“I don’t know Eris…”

“You don’t have to answer now, my love. Just promise you’ll think about it?”

Your heart swelled at the name and you give him a smile and nod. He smiles back excitedly at you and leans over to pepper kisses all over your face making you giggle.

“I should probably speak to them alone first.” You say as you get up from bed and begin dressing for breakfast.

“You’re probably right. I shall follow you in a bit then.”

You give him a final kiss before leaving the room, walking toward the inevitable storm.



**********

You make your way to the dining room for breakfast, Feyre and Rhysand were chatting away. Azriel was quietly seated across from them and eating his own food. When they see you walk into the room you prepare yourself for the looks, the comments, the interrogation… but instead you’re met with casual ‘good mornings’.

“Did Eris stay in the guest room?” Rhysand asks you as you a take the middle seat beside Azriel, purposely putting space between him and Eris when he joins.

“W-what?” You stutter.

“I saw his jacket was still hung in the hall so I assumed he stayed overnight.” Rhys explains.

“I- yes, he did.” You clear your throat.

You could not believe they had not figured it out. Neither of you were at all quiet last night, but perhaps Rhys and Feyre thought it was Nesta and Cassian and vice versa. They seemed to have no idea you just had sex with Eris. If Azriel could smell him on you he didn’t make it known.

The nervousness in your stomach roils more when Eris strolls into the dining room, a satisfied grin still on his face. He sits in the seat right beside you and his hand instantly wanders to your thigh.

“How was your sleep Eris?” You quickly say, cutting him off before he can respond with something clever about your night together, “I do hope the guest room was quite comfortable.”

He takes in your serious expression, he raises an eyebrow in confusion but goes along with it.

“Yes, I do apologize for my intruding.” His eyes move from you to Rhys then back to you. “I did not come with the intention of staying, but…”

“It’s no trouble.” Rhys waves a hand dismissively.

Azriel’s normally blank face shows he did not agree. You let out a silent breath of relief, the feeling quickly replaced again with worry when you meet Eris’s confused eyes again.

“Would you like some?” You pass Eris the platter of pastries from your side of the table, in an attempt to cut the tension in the room.

“Yes, thank you.” He says politely as he accepts a pastry from you.

Neither of you knew what you were doing until you feel the mating bond snap into place. Not realizing when you offered him food and he accepted, that you both were accepting the mating bond. All of a sudden your skin is overly hot and you’re fighting hard against your sudden urge to go at it right now with everyone in the room.

“Please, excuse me.” You say as you stand from the table, trying to control your legs that were shaking like a day old fawn. “I’m suddenly not feeling all that well. But Eris… I do need to speak with you.”

“Yes, of course.” He rushes out of his seat a little too eagerly.

You both rush out of the room and down the nearest hall to a spot hidden from the dining room but directly in front of the sitting room you prayed no one had plans to go to soon. Your bedroom was much too far and you needed eachother now. Your whole body aching with the need to feel him.

Eris captures your lips and pushes you against the wall with his body. You help him frantically push up your skirts to your hips before he lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him. He undoes his trousers just enough to let his cock spring free before lining it up to your entrance and pushing in. You gasp and then bite your lip hard to contain your moans but the pleasure was already blinding.

It was fast, and rough, and desperate as he pounded into you against the wall as you cling for dear life to his broad shoulders. You both quickly get close to reaching your peaks, the pleasure so overwhelming you don’t even register the loud thumping sounds you were causing against the wall or the sound of footsteps coming towards you.

“What in the fuck?!” Rhysand exclaims.

Your eyes shoot open in horror to find Rhysand standing right before you. You quickly scramble away from eachother in a panic and fix your clothing.

“Rhys, I can explain.” You begin in a panic.

“You can explain it to Feyre.” He says with an unimpressed chuckle and puts his hands up in defence before walking back towards the dining room.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit, you thought. You and Eris look to eachother with worry, the expression quickly turning heated as you take eachother in, blood still racing from your mating bond and ruined orgasm.

“No.” You point your finger at him like a dog, a slight smirk on your lips.

“After you then.” He smirks back and gestures his hands out.

You take a deep shakey breath before walking to the dining room to face the storm you knew was coming for certain now.

**********

To your horror, Nesta and Cassian were now there too having breakfast and Azriel was still in his seat. Feyre looks to you, her face unreadable but not happy. As you looked into her eyes you read their expression asking is it true?

“What has Rhysand told you?” You ask, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

“He told me saw you… you both…” She trails off, still wrapping her mind around the news.

Everyone else in the room was now alert to your conversation, the attention focused on you. Rhys must’ve told Feyre through the bond because everyone else had pure shock painted across their faces.

“It’s true.” You say plainly. “But we weren’t doing it just for fun.”

You swear you hear Eris’s smug thoughts saying even though it was very fun. Though his face remained serious.

“Eris is… we- I’m his…” You stutter, it was harder to admit to your family than you thought.

“We are mates.” Eris states confidently.

The room goes as silent as a morgue as everyone processes the words.

“You’re joking.” Cassian finally says.

“No.” You firmly retort.

“Wait… did Rhys catch you guys fucking in the hallway?!” Cassian’s jaw drops.

Your silent stare at him was answer enough.

“How…” Feyre begins, still processing. “How long have you known?”

“I cannot speak for (y/n), but truthfully I have known since the moment our eyes met at the ball.” Eris explains.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Feyre snaps at him.

“I’ve known just as long.” You counter.

“Why did you not tell me?” Feyre asks you with hurt in her voice.

Your stomach sinks further as you look to the rest of your family exchanging looks of anger, disappointment and disapproval. Just when you think things could not get worse, Mor walks into the room and spots Eris right away. No one had even heard her enter the house.

“What the hell is he doing here?” She demands, no hello or pleasantries to the rest of you first.

“You’re never going to believe this…” Azriel mumbles, shaking his head. The first words he’s spoken all morning.

“Tell her.” Cassian chuckles, though there was no humour in it.

“Eris… is my mate.” You say lowly.

“You’re joking…” Mor says, anger crossing her face.

“That’s what I said!” Cassian chimes in. “But unfortunately it’s no joke.”

“You.” Mor looks to Eris, the word like venom.

“Look Morrigan, I know you despise me. But I did not plan for this or intend to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to hurt you.” Eris defends himself.

Mor scoffs at him dismissively before turning to you.

“And have you accepted this bond?” She asks you, her angry eyes boring into yours.

“Oh has she ever…” Cassian comments and you shoot a glare at him.

“Yes… I have, I do… accept the bond.” You respond quietly.

“After everything that happened how could you be so fucking stupid?!” She seethes in rage. “Why in the hell would you possibly accept a bond with him?”

“Because I love him!” You snap back, finally having enough of all of this.

The room freezes once again as everyone stares at you. Eris eyes meet yours and he gives you a reassuring nod in support.

“I love him and honestly at this point I don’t give a fuck what you think! You’re too blinded by your hatred to even consider that he’s a good man, and he’s my mate. So although fighting you is the last thing in the world I want to do Mor… I will defend him until I am blue in the face because he’s mine.” You’re absolutely fuming as anger overtakes you, finally fed up with everyone’s negative opinions. The mating bond sparking something protective inside you.

Once again the room grows silent, everyone stunned by your outburst. You’ve never yelled at any of them, normally you’re the quiet shy one. Eris takes a silent step towards you and slides a hand into yours supportively. His touch only fans the flames of the fire inside of you, that fire of anger turning into desire. You jerk your hand away from his, feeling sorry when you see the hurt look on his face. But you couldn’t explain to him in front of everyone that it made you want to pounce on him right there.

“Well he’s not staying here…” Mor mumbles, breaking the silence as she crosses her arms.

“That’s fine! Because I’m going to Autumn.” You cross your arms back at her.

“You can’t…” Feyre says quietly, sadly.

“Yes, I can. You don’t need me anymore, and if you do… I will always answer your call for help.” You say looking directly at Feyre before turning to the entire room. “You’ll know where to find me.”

You storm out of the dining room and head directly to your bedroom to pack your things. You hear Eris mumble an apology before silently following behind you.

**********

Eris closes your bedroom door once you’re both inside, he turns to you with concern as he watches you pace back and forth in anger.

“(Y/n)…” He says lowly, causing you to finally stop pacing and look at him. “Are you… I mean, are you ok?”

Your heart ached at the hurt on his face, realizing you’ve been cold to him while caught up in your anger with your family.

“I’m so sorry my love…” You walk up to him and wrap your arms around him.

He instantly wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight and you can’t help the tears that begin to fall. He pets your hair and softly hushes you, you lean into his warmth and finally some calmness washes over you.

“I’m so sorry I was so cold to you.” You sniffle and he hugs you tighter.

“Hey, no, you weren’t. You defended me… I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me.” He reassures you and you let out a breath of relief. “Though… I was slightly offended when you yanked your hand from me.”

You pull back to look at him and he has a soft expression on his face that makes your heart melt like warm honey. As the anger and sadness fade away it’s quickly replaced with love and desire as he still holds you in his arms.

“I had my reasons…” You say to him, your voice low.

“Which were?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“Because Eris! When your skin touched mine I… it made me feel…” You take a deep breath before finally blurting out your thoughts. “I nearly pounced on you, everyone in the room disappeared and… I was about ready to fuck you in front of all of them.”

“Nothing Rhysand hasn’t seen.” He jokes with his usual sly smirk.

“I’m being serious Eris.” You roll your eyes, but your lips quirk up into a smile at the same time.

“I know, I’m sorry.” His smirk turns into a soft smile before returning again. “I can’t blame you… If you had pounced on me I don’t think I could’ve resisted that, ever since this morning I feel like a starving wolf on a chain and you’re a beautiful delicious doe I want to devour.”

“Really? Because I feel more like the wolf who wants to devour you.” Your gaze turns heated as you look into his amber eyes. “We have unfinished business…”

“That we do…” Eris grumbles, the rough sound shooting straight to your core.

You’re not sure who makes the first move but suddenly your mouths and bodies are crashing together in a burst of passion. He quickly leads you over to the bed before spinning you around and bending you over it. You rest your knees on the mattress as he quickly hikes up your skirts, the urgent need in both of you just needing enough of your bodies exposed to connect. You cry out when he enters you, no longer caring what your family heard now that they knew. Without hesitation he begins pounding into you, grunting as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

You cry out again and again as he brings you to orgasm again and again. Just when you think you’re done a new one begins, until he’s grunting loudly as he reaches his own peak pulling your hips impossibly closer against him as he spills into you. You crash forward onto the bed as you catch your breath, feeling his seed steadily leaking out of you.

The act only satisfies you for a short time while packing up your things until Eris is on his knees in front of you, climbing under your skirts to ravish you with his tongue as you cling desperately to the nearby dresser to hold yourself up.

Just as you were finally packed and about to leave the room he took you once more on the desk. The furniture slamming loudly against the wall with every quick thrust.

**********

You and Eris finally make it out of your bedroom and toward the front door. You were still fuming and had no interest in saying goodbye to anyone and you figured they wanted nothing to do with you now anyway.

“(Y/n) wait!” Feyre calls down the hall.

You and Eris turn to her as she catches up to you by the door.

“Are you here to try to convince me to stay?” You ask, your tone dry.

“No.” She shakes her head and takes your hands in hers. “I wanted to tell you that I love you and I just want what is best for you. And if he makes you happy…” She glances to Eris. “Then I am happy for you sister.”

You pull her into a tight hug, tears falling down both of your faces at her words. It meant more to you than she could even know.

“Thank you Feyre.” You whisper. “I love you too.”

You part and your eyes meet full of understanding and sisterly love.

“We all want you to be happy.” Feyre says.

“Well…” You begin.

“She’ll come around.” She reassures you. “They all will.”

“Maybe.” You half shrug and she gives you a final tight hug.

“Take good care of my sister.” Feyre says to Eris.

“I will.” He responds with a genuine smile.

You sigh as you take in the house and your sister one last time, grateful the others were not saying goodbye right now. It would take time for them to understand so you’d give them that space.

**********

Eris winnows you both to Autumn court, right outside the front doors of the palace. You suck in a breath as you take in the beauty around you, the colourful trees all around and the gorgeous building in front of you, your new home.

“Wait here while I warn Beron of our arrival.” He says to you.

“Warn him? I thought you said he wouldn’t care if I stay here?” You ask with worry in your tone.

“Don’t worry, my love. Trust me, he won’t care. But that doesn’t mean he will be nice about it…”

You nod and watch as Eris disappears behind the large doors. After a short while he returns, holding his hand out to you.

“Shall we?” He smiles.

“Where are we going?” You ask as your hand slips into his.

“To our part of the court.” He grins.

“Our part?” You raise your brow and his grin widens but he doesn’t respond.

You walk in silence enjoying the serene sounds of the trickling water of the nearby river and the crunch of coloured leafs beneath your feet. It was an oddly comfortable silence, just enjoying eachothers presence as you walk hand in hand. The weather was perfect, cool yet warm with a light wind blowing through your hair. The sun had begun to set and filled the afternoon sky with beautiful stokes of pink and orange.

Eventually he leads you to the other side of the building and through another door. The inside was even more beautiful than the exterior. The grand house was still somehow warm and cozy feeling, reds and oranges and golds beautifully decorating every detail. Eris smiles down at you as he watches you take it all in, your face in pure awe.

He leads you to your new shared bedroom, even more beautifully decorated than the hallways. The large canopy bed had red and brown sheets with a gold trim along the edges and on the headboard. Your eyes turn from the bed to Eris and he meets your gaze with sudden fire in them.

Your lips meet quickly but the kiss is slow and tender. Neither of you in any hurry now as pieces of clothing are removed one by one and you fall in a heap on the bed. He takes his sweet time with you, kissing and licking every single inch of your body as you squirm against the bed in anticipation as his mouth movies up your inner thigh. He tastes you but only for a moment, making you whine when he stops and continues kissing his way back up your body. Then he finally enters you and his thrusts are slow but deep, making you moan loudly every time he hit that spot deep inside of you. Your eyes hardly left each other, the intense eye contact fuelling the desire between you. The orangey light shining in through the windows glowed against your skin making you both look ethereal. The entire moment felt like a dream.

By the time you’re finished the sun had gone down and the only light left in the room is the single flickering candle beside the bed. You happily begin to doze off in his warm arms, finally feeling at peace after all the chaos of the day.

“Psst, hey. Don’t fall asleep yet love.” Eris whispers to you.

“Hmm, why?” You mumble sleepily.

“Get dressed and I’ll show you.” He smirks as he gets up from the bed, taking his warmth with him.

You whine and he smirks at you.

“It will be worth it I promise, just put on a robe we aren’t going far.”

You huff as you reluctantly get up from bed and do as he says, throwing a thick sleeping robe on to cover your bare body. He offers you his hand and as soon as you take it he winnows you somewhere else.

You adjust your eyes to the new sight before you, now on an outdoor roof terrace of the palace with the moon and stars shining bright about you. Hundreds of white pumpkins decorated the circular frame of the space and nearly thousands of candles among them as they flickered in the breeze. It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Eris what is all of this?” You question with your back still to him.

When he doesn’t respond you turn around and a small gasp escapes you. Eris was crouched on one knee before you, holding up a dazzling ring that seemed to sparkle amongst the bright stars.

“(Y/n) Archeron…” He begins and tears quickly form in your eyes. “I’ve spent many years of this life alone, or with pointless company that I may as well have been alone… But meeting you has changed me completely. I feel like the luckiest male in this world to have found you. My beautiful, kind, witty, wild mate.”

Tears roll freely down your cheeks now and you notice the silver lining his own eyes.

“If you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you have made me in such a short time.” He continues. “(Y/n) Archeron… Will you marry me?”

“Eris…” You can barely speak through the choked up tears. “Of course, of course I will!”

The gigantic smile that crosses his face warms your heart. He slips the ring onto your finger before standing and scooping you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, giggling as he twirls you around happily. Once he places you back on your feet his lips meet yours.

“I love you more than I can put into words…” He mumbles against your lips.

“I love you so much Eris.” You smile before bringing your lips back to his.

The kiss suddenly turns more heated as the mating bond surges through your veins like fire once again. Your bodies make their way down to the stone ground, your robe acting as a blanket beneath you and falling open at the front, Eris quickly undoes his pants and you’re connected once again. This time felt even different as you solidified your eternal commitment to eachother. Gold light flowed between you brighter than the endless candles or stars shining above you, the light shimmering off the white pumpkins all around you. Your vision is blurry from the pleasure but you swear you saw a shooting star. The beauty of everything, of him, was overwhelming as you cried out reaching your peak again and again.

As the fire of him completely consumed you, for the first time in your life you felt like you were finally where you always belonged.

PART ONE

PART TWO

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[lilithrosexoxo]

Ch. 7 Rut (Smut)

Jinwoo wakes with a start. His blood feels like it's boiling, it's just so damn hot. He takes off his clothes to try to ease the heat but it does nothing. He releases a hiss as he feels the cool air hit his length as he realizes he has a raging boner and immediately knows what’s happening.

“Oh no. Oh shit I remember now, fuck I forgot the date”, he thinks as he realizes he’s entering his rut. “Shit this is bad”, Jinwoo becomes feral on his ruts and he usually locks himself in his room and leaves Beru and Igris in charge. He slowly feels himself losing it and knows he’s not going to be able to warn anyone in time to stay far away from him and Igris and Beru aren’t here to explain what’s about to happen.

He knows he only has a few minutes to do something but he decides to be selfish. He calls forth his shadow soldier and commands them to bring a pair of your used panties from your room quietly. They obey and in no time he’s sniffing your panties and jerking his cock. He’s enveloped in a scent of lavender and honey and starts to rut into his hands. He makes one final decision, to reach for the pocket pussy he keeps in his pocket dimension for emergencies like these.

xoxo 

You hear a rapid knock on your door, “Y/N there’s something wrong with Apha Sung he’s been screaming your name!”, you hear Reign say behind the door.

You jump out of the bed and throw a robe, running to the door. You look at Reign, “What do you mean he’s been screaming for me?”.

“It’s best if we go see what I mean in person”.

You walk down the hall and immediately hear screaming and growls coming from Jinwoo’s room. You see a crowd gathered outside his room, all your siblings, your mother, Bazz, and a few knights stand outside his room.

“Fuck Y/N hah-”, you hear Jinwoo scream with a strangled cry.

You knock on the door, “Jinwoo sweety, are you okay?”.

The only reply you get is a groan and at this point you’re starting to get worried. Jinwoo sounds like he’s in such distress and it’s making your omega hurt. “Find alpha, comfort alpha”, she shouts at you.

“Jinwoo I know you haven’t given me permission to enter your den but we’re all worried about you, I’m coming in”, you say as you slowly push in the door and ease your way in feeling fear at what you might find. Well you certainly weren’t expecting this sight to greet you. You see Jinwoo naked fucking into a pocket pussy like his life depends on it. He’s sniffing something black and lacy. Wait, were those your panties!? How on earth did he get those? You were going to be upset until you took in his physique. You admire the way his muscles ripple on his back and the way his tight ass flexes. Beneath him is a sticky mess of sweat and cum. His skin is glistening with all the fluids on him. God how long has he been at this? The air is filled with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon and it’s so strong it’s making you dizzy.

“Y/N?”, you hear Jinwoo pant in between heavy breaths. You see him take his cock out of the pocket pussy and your eyes widen and immediately zone in on the monster in between his legs. It looks huge especially with his swollen knot at the base.

Elowen gasps as she sees the third leg swinging between Jinwoos legs. “How on earth is that going to fit inside anyone?”, she thinks to herself and at this moment she’s grateful that she isn’t Jinwoo’s mate. “OMG ITS PIERCED!?”, she screams out loud. Shining in the moonlight is his Prince Albert piercing.

Jinwoo holds his arm out to you, “My omega, come to your alpha NOW”, he commands. 

Bazz scoffs and goes to step into the room, “You cannot command Y/N to partake in such debauchery. I will not allow eeep-“, he squeals as not even 3 centimeters away from Bazz’s head is Jinwoo’s poison dagger. Good goddess with the way Jinwoo was looking at him, if looks could kill Bazz would be a goner.

“You think you can tell me what to do with my omega!?”, Jinwoo shouts as he descends further into his rut now that he has you in front of him, “With my woman!”. How dare this dimwit think he can tell him what to do with his omega. He already had 1 strike after he claimed you as his after he asked your father for your hand in marriage. He wanted to skin him alive and now he’s saying he can’t lay claim to your body? You’re HIS! Everyone can tell Jinwoo is losing it because a wave of his conquerors Haki flows out the room knocking out the knights and Reign, Aldwin catching him before his head can hit the ground.

Jinwoo grabs you and places you on the bed and rips off your robe. He pushes your thighs together and places the pocket pussy between them as he ruts in between your thighs.

“That motherfucker! Who the fuck ah- does he think he is to tell me what hah-  I can do with my pretty omega. You belong to me! Fuck I’m going to put him in the ground hah- tear his fucking guts out and shove them down his throat! I’m going to rip out his spine! I’ll kill him!”, he says spittle flying from his mouth, he looks directly at Bazz “You’re dead! Dead! Dead! Fucking dead! I’ll fucking kill you!”, he says as he laughs maniacally as a purple aura crackles around him. Another wave of conquerors Haki is sent out and this time Liza and Elowen fall, being caught by Ifrit and Shiva.

“Awww nah, JIT tweakin”, Ifrit says while the rest of your family looks at the scene unfolding before them in complete shock.

“He’s a godzilla level crashout”, Shiva agrees slightly in awe that you had such a powerful alpha absolutely losing his shit just at the thought of you.

Poor Bazz is stuck. His fight or flight sense kicked in and well he froze. He feels his throat close and anxiety start to set in as his heart hammers in his chest. There’s no way he can go toe to toe with THE alpha Sung Jinwoo but he couldn’t just stand by and allow him to take what he’s been wanting for years right in front of him. But that aura? He just knocked out 9 werewolves with his will alone! Shit he felt faint after the first wave and the second wave knocked him on his ass and had his vision going blurry. Fuck he was screwed, how on earth was he going to go after this monster. He feels so overwhelmed that he relieves himself on the spot.

You look over and feel sorry for Bazz. It looks like Jinwoo quite literally scared the piss out of him as he’s currently sitting in a puddle of his own urine by the smell of it but who wouldn’t be terrified after being threatened by the shadow monarch.

Jinwoo turns back to you and admires the sight underneath him. He turns your head to him “Eyes on me”, he looks down at where he’s fucking your thighs and imagines it as your pussy. “Fuck my Y/N and her little slutty pretty princess pussy”, he slurs drunkenly as you feel him thrust between your thighs with abandon. They become slick from the copious amount of precum leaking from his reddened tip. Fuck it’s so hot his skin is burning and his balls ache. He needs to knot you and he needs to do it now.

“Jin baby” you whine underneath him completely letting your omega take over eyes glowing. You feel your slick start to leak from your holes at seeing Jinwoo completely out of it. He looks feral as his lips peel back in a snarl, sharp teeth shining in the darkness, eyes turning to an electric blue.

“Ummm I don’t think it’s safe to leave Y/N with him”,  Aldwin states fear and concern lacing his voice.

“I-I don’t think we’d make it out of this if we tried to break those two apart”, Shiva stammers.

“Shiva is right, not even your father could break those two apart safely at this point. Everyone bow your heads and quietly disperse”, your mother whispers.

Aldwin is the only one brave enough to go up and close the door. Your family quietly tiptoes away and Bazz crawls away looking scared out of his mind. The knights knocked by the conquerors haki remain on the ground.

“It’s just you and me now princess”,Jinwoo says, looking down at you with crazed eyes.

He’s still thrusting between your thighs like a madman and digging his claws into your plush thighs leaving trails of red in their wake. He’s fucking sweltering and sweat drips down his brows, strands of hair sticking to his face. He feels drool leak from his mouth as he pounds into the pocket pussy. Fuck this feels heavenly having you underneath him he can’t weight to bury his cock into your cunt. He just knows you’re going to feel so good squeezing around him. He feels like he’s on the edge of control he knows he may seem like he’s out of it but the fact that he hasn’t bit you yet speaks volumes.

“Fuckfuckfuck hah~ baby I’m going to cum. Fuck~ take it take it take it- FUCK”, Jinwoo shouts as he thrusts so powerfully it moves the bed and you can hear the hinges squeaking in protest at the rough treatment. The bed frame finally gives up after a few more thrusts and collapses on the floor.

Then he’s cumming and spurt after spurt of cum splashes on your tummy. He’s coming so much it’s like he’s producing an ocean. Dripping down your stomach and onto the sheets below creating an even bigger mess. Jinwoo sighs in relief and pulls out of the pocket pussy. His cock finally getting some reprieve.

You’re focused on how those milky pearls of cum gleam on his prince albert piercing. Your mouth waters at the sight and all of a sudden you get really thirsty for something creamy. You lick your lips as you look up at Jinwoo innocently,

“Can I have a taste alpha?”, you whine underneath him. 

With that Jinwoo is rock hard again in no time. He lays back on the bed.

“Do it nasty for me princess”, he commands.

You sit in between his thighs and spit on his cock as you take it between your hands. He’s so girthy that one hand can’t even wrap fully around the base. You slowly give him kitten licks on his tip and moan at the taste. He tastes just like melted strawberry ice cream, your favorite flavor with a hint of metal from his piercing. A taste that you’re surely getting addicted to. You decide to stop teasing him and stretch your mouth for him. You struggle to take him down in one go, gurgling on his length.

“Shit princess just like that, open up that mouth for me a little bit more ah- fuck~ feel-feels so good. I ha~ I want to get in there”, he slurs as drool leaks down his chin.

You take a deep breath and he thrusts his hips forward and you feel his tip hit the back of your throat and he groans. Fuck this is what he needed, your mouth feels so soft and warm. Shit he’s not gonna last long, you feel too good.

He sets a rapid pace, his rut making him throw all thoughts of gentleness and caution to the wind. You dig your claws into his thighs at the rough treatment and this spurs him on. Tears well up in your eyes and you know your throat will be raw after this. All Jinwoo can think about is the heat and ache in his balls and your warm mouth. He feels like he’s on fire as he pants. His vision blurs as his balls constrict and euphoria shoots through his veins. He’s cumming so much that it starts to leak out your mouth and drip down on your chest.

He sees you struggling to swallow all of his release and it makes his heart swell, “Look baby it’s all for you”, he coos eyes glowing purple looking like the finest alexandrite in the dark room only lit by the moonlight.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

safe with me | R.G.

feat. Rick Grimes x sunshine!reader cw: MDNI 18+, established relationship, mentions of traumatic incident with family annihilation & suicide (you are responsible for the content you consume), mentions of child death, hurt/comfort masterlist | requests are open

“Carol!” Rick called, jogging across the lawn to catch her after the town meeting. The sun blazed down, ruthless and disorienting after hours of being indoors. “How'd it go?” He asked, referring to the run she led this morning.

They both knew he was asking how it went for you specifically.

Rick didn't care about much else besides you and his kids these days. Alexandria ran just fine without him worrying himself sick; you’d shown him that.

Carol grimaced. “She hasn't come to find you?”

Rick's jaw clenched, his heart beating a bit faster. “Would I be askin’ is she did?”

“She, ah—she’s fine,” Carol clarified, sensing his mounting alarm. “But there was a—an incident.”

“What kind of incident?” He growled.

“We were clearing a property, and she went into the house first—”

His anger flared. “Why would you let her—”

“Because everyone matters, Rick,” she snapped. “I can't treat her special because she's yours.”

He grit his teeth. He knew Carol already paid you extra mind, so there was no sense arguing it.

“She volunteered anyhow, so I sent her. There were no Biters, but…” Carol took a shaking breath. “She found the family in the dining room, parents and two little boys. Practically nothin’ left of the bodies, half-eaten dinners in front of ‘em, rotten through. Mom’s brains all over the wall—”

“Alright, alright,” Rick cut her off, scrubbing a hand over his face. Fucking brutal. Rick had seen plenty gruesome scenes like it, but you—somehow you'd held onto your heart through the end of the world.

“I don't think she took it well, didn't speak the rest of the run. Passed her ration off to Rosita. Had that stare, y’know?”

Rick nodded. Had that stare himself on countless occasions. “She went home?”

“Far as I know,” Carol affirmed. Rick went to head that way when Carol grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. “Don't push her, she'll talk when she's ready.”

“I know, I know," he assuaged. “I’ll go easy.”

Carol nodded and released him, and he started down the road, breaking into a jog when he was sure no one was looking.

When he reached your shared house, sun-bleached siding and half-roasted grass, he slipped through the front door, finding Carl reading by the lone fan in the living room. The house was eerily quiet, save the cordant hum of the whirling blades, it's cedar bones heavy on its foundation.

“Hey,” Rick hissed, getting Carl's attention. “How is she?”

Carl shrugged. “Makin’ lunch. Not singing’ like usual,” was all the boy offered before turning back to his comic.

“Alright, take your sister and go on to Michonne's for a bit,” he said, leaving no room for argument in his tone.

Carl huffed his displeasure, but did as he was told, trudging upstairs to fetch Judith while Rick moved towards the kitchen. He waited to hear the scampering of Judith's footsteps and the click of the door shutting behind them before pushing through the small door into the kitchen.

You were staring down at the blue flames of the gas stove, an open can of soup in your hand. Completely frozen, besides your yellow sundress fluttering around your bare legs.

Normally, the sound of Rick's boots up the steps was enough to have you bounding out the front door and throwing yourself into his arms, even if he'd only been to the neighbors and back. And you always sang while you cooked, some scratched-to-shit record backing you up.

His heart cracked.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, careful not to startle you.

You blinked, bleary eyes focusing on the can of soup, then flicking back up to the empty pot. Trying to connect the dots of what you'd been doing. “I'm making lunch,” you said, barely above a whisper, and he wasn't sure if you were talking to him or yourself.

“I see, can I help you?” He asked, moving a little further into the room. Turning down the knob on the stove to reduce the lapis flame.

You shook yourself, straightening with a too-wide smile. “I've got it!” You chirped, pouring the can into the pot. It spat and sputtered, entirely too hot. Rick snatched it off the burner, putting his body between you and the wrathful soup so you didn't get burned. “Shit! Let me get some towels.” You hurried away, frenetic energy wafting from you, spooked like a hare.

He knew that with one wrong move, it could tip into full-blown panic. “Honey, easy,” he soothed, catching you by the arms when your turned back towards him. “No harm, no foul.” He gently took the stack of towels from you, six for a few splatters of broth, and set them in the counter.

“I need to—” Your eyes were glazing again, hazy as the memory creeped back in.

“Don't worry about lunch, darlin’. I sent ‘em off to Michonne's for a little while.” He took your arms again, rubbing up and down your biceps to try and keep you with him.

“Oh,” you mumbled, glassy eyes drifting just past him at the wallpaper. “Why?” Your eyes refocused on him, brow furrowing slightly.

He leaned down to kiss the wrinkle away. “Too nice a’day for kids to stay inside. And thought you and I could spend some time together.”

“Oh,” you repeated. You fell quiet for a moment, and he could practically see the gears turning in your head, like you were trying to dredge something up you'd forgotten.

He waited patiently, sliding his hands down to hold yours.

“How was the meeting?” You finally asked, though your voice retained that same listless quality.

“Went fine. Same shit, different folks,” he said, shifting both your hands to his right one so he could bring the left up to cradle your face. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” You leaned into his palm, a rough, calloused thing against your supple skin, and your lashes lowered a bit, fluttery like moth wings. Something warm unfurled in his chest.

“C’mon, let me fix you somethin’ to eat,” he said, kissing your forehead again to hide the frown pulling at his mouth. He guided you back over to the stove, patting on the counter beside it. Your favorite spot whenever he got a wild hair to cook.

You hopped up, obedient little thing, and smoothed your skirt, crossing your dangling ankles.

He felt your eyes following him while he put on one of your favorite albums and resumed lunch preparations. He tried to keep his movements slow, fluid, easily trackable in your addled mind. After a few minutes though, you drifted off again, staring at a cracked tile on the floor.

Once the soup was simmering, he stepped towards you, moving to stand between your knees. “Pretty girl,” he hummed, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Why don't you tell me what's goin' on?”

You shook your head, tugging your chin from his fingers and turning your head away from him.

He leaned forward, brushing his lips along your hairline, balmy and salt-tinged from the heat. “You know I'll never let anythin’ happen to you,” he murmured. “Nothin’ out there can hurt you, or them, here.” He smoothed his hands over your ribs, the swell of your hips. “Not while I'm around.”

Tears welled in your eyes. That's a start, he thought. Out here, that numbness will eat you alive. Feeling is the only way to keep going.

“I’d rather die than let anything happen to them,” you whispered.

“I know, baby. I know.” He pulled you in for a proper hug, your face buried into the meat of his shoulder. “You take such good care of us, and I'm so grateful,” he said into your hair, kissing your crown. “You're a dream come true, darlin’.”

You cracked, a whimper eeking through your teeth, then another, until you were sobbing into his chest, fingers digging into the cotton of his shirt.

He sighed in relief, petting your hair while you purged the pent up emotions. “That's a good girl, there ya’ go. Let it all go,” he encouraged, your tears seeping through his shirt and cooling his sun-warmed skin. “You're alright now, I've gotcha.”

“She poisoned them,” you sobbed, thumping his chest with your fist. Barely hard enough for him to register. “She must have been so desperate—”

“This world makes people do monstrous things,” he said, flattening your fist out against his chest, willing his heart to beat slow and steady under your palm. “We can't try to understand it.”

“Do you think they knew?” You looked up at him, lashes dark and spiked with tears, eyes almost feverishly bright. Pleading.

He shook his head, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, deeply sorry that he couldn't give you the answers you needed. “We can't know, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

“We should have buried them,” you whispered, looking towards the window. “It wasn't right, leaving them like that.”

Rick never loved you more than he did in that moment, his heart leaping up his throat, choking him with affection. “I'll take care of it, baby. Don't you worry.” He couldn't resist pressing a kiss to your temple, your forehead, your nose, adoring you so much it ached.

“You will?” You turned back to him, fingers tightening on his shirt.

“Daryl and I will go as soon as I know you're alright,” he promised.

“But—”

“No buts.” He placed a thumb over your lips, quieting your protest. Another sign that you were feeling a little more like your usual, stubborn self. “Now, think you can eat a little f’me?”

You eyed the soup warily as he clicked off the eye and fetched a spoon, returning quickly back between your legs.

He dipped the spoon into the broth, lifting a small amount to your lips. “Just a few bites?”

You folded your lips together and shook your head.

“Baby,” he sighed. “You need to eat somethin’. I won't go until you do.”

But instead of indignation flashing in your eyes, he saw a prickle of fear as you stared at the spoon. Guilt curdled in his gut.

“Here.” He put the spoon in his mouth, eating the bite instead, then scooped a second bite, offering it to you again. “We'll eat it together.”

You didn't look convinced, but you parted your lips anyways, and he fed you a small sip.

“Good girl,” he said, taking the rest of the bite himself. “You trust me, don't you? Would I ever give you something that was going to hurt you? Hurt Carl or Judith?”

“No,” you mumbled, accepting a second, larger bite. “You wouldn't.”

“I'll share every bite with you if that's what you need, whatever I gotta do to make you feel safe,” he promised.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. He set the spoon down to hold your waist again, tugging you to the edge of the counter to feel your body press fully against his, his arms braced across you back.

“Promise me that if I ever start to lose it, if I ever pose a danger to those kids—” your voice splintered, brittle with emotion. “That you'll do whatever you need to keep them safe.”

He couldn't even think about it, the fleeting idea enough to make his chest constrict painfully, his stomach roil. “I'll do what I need to do to keep all three of you safe,” he promised instead.

“Deal,” you sighed, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

He shifted that final inch forward, catching your lips in a tender, top-lip kiss. You softened, nails raking through the hair at the nape of his neck as he drew you closer, languishing in the honeyed taste of you. Finally relaxing now that he was sure you'd be alright.

After a moment, you broke the kiss to breathe, your nose congested from crying. He grazed his thumb over your bitten lip, smiling softly at your slightly dazed expression.

“You're safe with me, darlin’,” he assured. “Always.”

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[alphaleathergearhead]

Time to serve, skin boy, part II

Dean closed the cellar door to his personal playroom dungeon firmly and smiled. He had captured the skinboy Marc, whom he had watched for months now. He was attracted firmly to this hot guy for quite a time. Talking to some friends of Marc, Dean found out, that one of the hottest fantasies of this appetizing skin boy was to be kidnapped and to be hold captive, at least for a while, for a weekend.

„We will see“ thought Dean, leaving the cellar and entering the sleeping room of his weekend house, which was located far away from other settlements. „We will see, what we can do together during this weekend. I hope, he will find his situation exciting and be ready for some horny roleplay.“ Dean undressed and stowed away the clothes he wore at the bar. He then went to bed, thinking about some hot role play fot the weekend. He took his smartphone and activated the camera in his playroom. Marc was lying in his cell, curled up on the matress, covered with the blanket, apparently asleep. Dean smiled, watched for a while the deactivated the cam, turned round and went to sleep.

Next morning saw him up early. After a short breakfast he started to prepare for the action. He put on a leather shirt, a double zip saddle leather pant with a huge belt. He then put on his Sam brown belt, a leather tie and fixed both. He looked in the mirrow and smiled again.

„This will go with my highest boots“, he thought and took out his overknee boots. Great feeling with those on. To complete his outfit he chose his heavy Langlitz Columbia padded jacket, a black muir cap and black leather gloves. Again a look in the mirror and he felt aroused. „Now to you, skin sub“, he thought.

Dean went down to the cellar and unlocked the dungen door. He locked it again and stowed away the key. Marc was sitting in the cell on the matress, cuffed, gagged and, yes, it could not be overseen, aroused. Dean smiled again.

Stand up, skin fag, when your MASTER enters“ shouted Dean firmly. Marc whinced and struggled to stand up. His combat pant showed a huge and nice bulge. His red bomber jacket gleamed in the dungeon light.

„Listen fag. I know you like such a situation. I will hold you captive for the weekend. We can have fun together. I will release you Sunday evening and bring you back to the spot I kidnapped you. You can decide now, if you want that, too. If not, shake your head and I will release you immediately. If yes, nod. NOW.“

Marc swayed slightly. Dean saw him hesitating. Then he saw a nod. He smiled again.

„Good skin fag. Now these are the rules. You will not leave the cellar for this weekend till Sunday evening. You do not speak or shout except when permitted. If so, you call me SIR or MASTER. Normally the only need for you is to say SIR yes SIR. Is that understood?“

Another short nod.

„You will get food, sleep and you can use toilet and water in your cell room“, Dean pointed in a dark corner of the cell. „And“ he added, „as we don´t know each other very well, you are allowed to use a stop sign. Four „ughs“ in a row can be uttered even when you are gagged. And you will be gagged most of the time. Try it now.“

„Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.“

„Excellent. We will start our adventure now. Step to the cell door. Now!“

Marc made some steps and stood still in front of the bars. Dean unlocked the cell.

„Go out and stand on the yellow line in front of the cell. Do that always when I let you out or you have to go inside.“

Marc stepped out and stood still. Dean smiled and reached down to the bulge. He felt a rock hard dick in that combat pant.

„Go to the bench and lay down“ ordered Dean, pointing to a bench upholstered with black leather. Marc did as ordered. Dean unlocked the cuffs, forced him down on the bench and immediately started to fix straps around Marcs legs, hip, chest and arms, immobilising Marc completely. Then he went to a shelf in the corner of the cellar room and put out a leather head harness. With quick movements he fixed the harness around Marcs head, removed the tape over his mouth and forced it open.

„Take this in“, he ordered, stuffing a huge, dick-shaped gag into Marcs mouth, which was firmly fixed with another strap of the harness. „Good sucking“, grinned Dean. He then covered Marcs eyes and blocked his sight completely.

„Here we are, fag.“

Marc could not move his body and was gagged and blindfolded. He strengthened his ears to guess, what Dean was doing. The only thing, he heared, was the soft creaking of Deans leather outfit. Fuck, what a situation. He was torn between fascination, excitement and fear. Fear, because he did not knew if he could trust Dean. Excitement, because he always wanted to go through such an adventure. Fascination, because Dean was a Dom to be admired.

Nothing happened for quite a while. From time to time, Marc heard the soft creaking of Deans leather.

Then he felt a hand opening the zip fly of his combat pant and the soft touch of a leather gloved hand, putting his rock hard boner out. Then again nothing.

After another while his bomber jacket was opened and the combat shirt he wore was pushed up. His nose sensed the smell of leather. A gloved hand closed over his nose and he had some difficulties to breathe.

„Mmmmpfffhhh“.

„Don´t worry, skin fag“ whispered Dean in Marcs ear and let go. Marc inhaled air eagerly through his nostrils.

More leather creaking. Then nothing. For a long time, a very long time. Marc was getting nervous. What the fuck are Deans plans for their „adventure“?

Then suddenly he felt it. A touch, more a soft whiff on his bare glans. Coming and going. At first, Marc wondered, what this would be for. But after a while, his dick started to throb and ache and he longed for a good ejaculation. He was at the verge of…….

„Mmmppffhhh.“ Wow, that was a painful sting to his nipples. Again „mmmpfffhh“. Two leather gloved hands worked on his nipples, causing a sharp pain. His stimulation receeded immediately.

After a while, the nipple work stopped and the leather creaking signalled to Marc, that Dean moved away from him. Then, again, nothing.

Ahhh, the soft touch on his glans started again. His dick started to grow. Started to ache again. Marc got so agitated, the only thing he wanted, was to shoot his load all over the dungeon floor.

„Mmmmhhhmmmm……mmmppfffhhh.“ The nipple trim again. The stimulation vanished.

On and on went this procedure and Marc started to struggle but in vain, as the bonds were fixed very tight. He heard Dean laughing.

„Don´t try that, my skin fag, there is no escape. Just relax and enjoy as I do“

Marc could not tell for how long Dean continued to stimulate him with whatever he used for this, bringing him to the verge of unloading and destroying the stimulation with working hard on his nipples. He never had experienced such a thing before. There were moments, he enjoyed it. Other moments he wished Dean to stop it.

Then it stopped and he felt his feet released. He wanted to move them but they were held tightly. Then his feet were lifted up and he felt that his combat pant was torn down. A hand rubbed a cold liquid across his ass and then he felt a rock hard cock penetrating his lubricated hole. Thrust after thrust Dean penetrated him deeper until he felt Deans cock deep inside him. For a while, Dean remained inside Marc without a movement. Then he started to move his cock in and out, grunting and groaning, while his movements got quicker. Then Marc felt Deans hot cum pouring into him, filling him up, dripping out of his hole, while Dean remained inside him, starting to play again with Marcs nipples.

„Mmmmmmmpfffffhhhhhh mmmmmmhhhhmmmm.“

„Oh my skin fag, I don´t allow you to come…..not yet“ whispered Dean. Marc heard again Deans leather creaking and a firm hand took his cock. For a short time Marc thought that he at last could come but there was cold metal closing around his dick and balls. „I caged you to secure you“ whispered Dean again. „Fuck“, thought Marc and his cock swelled but in vain….

They were exhausted. After a while, Dean released Marc, cleaned him and fixed his clothes. He took away the blindfold and the gag. Cuffing Marcs hands again, he took him to a leather couch, sat him down and hugged him. Marc put his head deep in Deans leather gear and inhaled the smell of leather, cum and Deans sweat. They both relaxed completely. Out of his eyes, Marc saw a huge feather lying on a small table and he understood immediately. Dean saw his look.

„This afternoon“ he whispered, „we will experience other techniques. And we will have Sunday, too.“ He caressed the harness head of Marc. „Now back to your cell and have some food“.

Abruptely he stood up and hoisted Marc to his feet. „Go to the line, fag.“

Marc received a heavy blow in his face and he stumbled forward to the yellow line, tears in his eyes. His hands were uncuffed but shackeled together in front of him. At least he had some space for movement now.

„In you go and if you dare to shout, there will be the gag and no food. Understood?“

„Sir, yes, Sir“ whispered Marc.

„Whats it?“ Another sharp blow.

„SIR, YES, SIR:“

„Thats better, in you go.“

A sharp push in his back and Marc stumbled back into his cell. Dean closed the bars and went out of the dungeon, closing the heavy door behind him.

[anglsweets]

F.H ⭑.ᐟ – HEAVY 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

⟢ ˚.🫖ᵎᵎ . now serving — RETIRED! Five Hargreeves x fem reader. ⟢ ˚.🫖ᵎᵎ .WARNING(S) soft smut | emotional intimacy | PIV | needy five | strong language | body worship | inaccurate depictions of sex | velcro boyfriend five supremacy | MDNI !!

⟢ sweet’s notes .ᐟ. first official smut lesgoo!!! i didn’t proofread this because i have this condition where when i start writing, i can’t seem to stop so… my bad.

⟢ part 1 can be found here! and morning shenanigans can be found here

The movie had long since blurred into background noise, the plot forgotten in favor of something far more interesting like the way you were settled in Five’s lap, your legs bracketing his hips, arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

It had started innocent enough just shifting around to get comfortable. But then Five’s hands had found their place, one splayed palm against your ass, the other idly tracing patterns along your thigh. His fingers toyed with the hem of your shorts absentmindedly, his touch slow and lazy, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

It made it very hard to focus on the movie. In which he has already suggesting you move things to the bedroom hastily.

You shift slightly, trying to actually watch, but the movement draws a quiet hum from him, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second.

“You’re not paying attention” he murmurs, amused.

“Neither are you.” You blink, as if just remembering the film playing behind you.

“I have more important things in front of me.” His lips twitch in an amused scoff.

You roll your eyes but don’t fight him when he leans up, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s soft at first, slow and teasing, but the moment you respond, fingers threading into his hair, tilting your head to deepen it as something shifts.

Five makes a quiet sound of approval, his hand slipping beneath your shirt, pressing warm against your spine as he pulls you in closer. You sigh into the kiss, your hips rocking against his slightly, and that’s all it takes for his grip to tighten, his nails faintly digging into your skin.

“This is not getting us to bed” you murmur against his lips, breathless.

“It’s a detour” Five chuckles, pressing another lingering kiss to your mouth.

“Mmm… We should really move though.” You shift again, trying to get up, but Five refuses to let go, merely pulling you right back into his lap.

“Five!” you laugh, swatting his shoulder. Earning a smug grin from him.

“Alright alright” With a sigh that is way too dramatic, he lets you slide off his lap. But the moment you stand, he catches your wrist, tugging you back down for one last kiss. One that’s slower, sweeter, like he’s reluctant to let the moment go.

Somehow, between kisses and laughter, you both stumble off the couch, hands blindly reaching for each other as you shuffle toward the bedroom.

Then, a rug.

An unfortunate rug enters the equation. A red shah abbas rug from Istanbul to be precise.

You don’t even know who tripped first but then in that one moment you’re giggling against Five’s lips, and the next, you both go tumbling, colliding against the bedroom door with a thud.

“That’s the second time you’ve fallen for me tonight.” Five huffs a quiet laugh against your lips.

“You are so lucky I like you.” You snort.

“Debatable.” he murmurs, and before you can reply, he catches your lips again, swallowing your giggle as he finally gets the door open, pulling you both inside.

The second you both stumble through the bedroom door, Five barely gives you a chance to regain your footing before he’s pulling you in again, catching your lips in another kiss. This time more slower and deeper as his fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

You hum against his lips, your hands finding his shoulders as he walks you back towards the bed, his movements deliberate despite the lingering clumsiness from before. The back of your knees hit the mattress, and just as you’re about to lower yourself onto it, Five has other plans.

Instead, he grips your waist and pulls you with him as he falls backward onto the bed, making you land right back in his lap with a soft gasp.

“Was that necessary?” You blink down at him, slightly breathless.

“Absolutely.” His hands slide up your back, guiding you down as he leans up, capturing your lips once more as you straddled him.

This kiss is different now. It was less playful and more wanting. There’s no rush, no urgency, just the slow, intoxicating pull of his lips against yours, like he has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

You melt into it, your hands slipping into his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss. Five makes a quiet groan of approval, his grip tightening on your waist as he presses you flush against him.

The weight of him beneath you, the warmth of his hands, the way he sighs into the kiss…. it makes your head spin.

His lips part slightly, allowing you to steal another kiss and another then another. He’s so warm, so solid beneath you, his fingers moving in slow, teasing circles against your skin.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“You’re a terrible distraction.” Five exhales a quiet chuckle, his fingers still tracing patterns against your back.

“You’re the one who keeps tempting me.”You grin.

His lips twitch, but instead of answering, he shifts beneath you, flipping your positions so that you’re the one lying back now, the mattress soft beneath you as he hovers above, his weight pressing into you deliciously.

He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your jaw, then another to the corner of your mouth before finally catching your lips again, softer this time.

Five starts to trail kisses down the column of your neck, slowly undoing the buttons of your shirt while his slightly chapped lips scratch against your skin making you shudder. His hand slides up your thigh as his fingers dancing along your inner thigh until they reach the hem of your shorts. Your boyfriend teases the skin along the waistband tugging at it lightly before slipping his hand beneath, Five’s palm cupping your bare thigh.

You gasp softly as his lips find your collarbone, pressing a kiss there before he starts to work his way down to your cleavage. With the other hand sliding up your stomach, Five’s fingers splaying across your ribcage as he pushes your shirt up. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to the swell of your breasts, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. Your boyfriend’s hand inches higher, his fingers brushing against the material of your panties. He rubs slow circles against the fabric, feeling the growing dampness.

You arch into him, a breathy moan escaping your lips as his fingers apply more pressure. He smirks against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple through the thin material of your bra.

"Five" you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair as your gaze slowly falls onto him, swallowing your words like a lump in your throat.

“Mmm… yeah?” Your boyfriend murmured against your skin, not thinking much while he tugs your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick folds, stroking your most sensitive spots.

You cry out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shoots through you. "Shit" you gasp, your hips rocking against his hand. He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you with his thumb circling your clit gently. Slowly Five would work you until you were close.

Sensing this, he pulls back, his fingers slipping out of you.

“Why?” Your eyebrows scrunched in dissatisfaction as you watched your boyfriend chuckle softly.

“Be patient I’m getting there.” Five said in between sadistic chuckles while tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side, letting it pile onto the floor.

Immediately he works on your shorts and panties, stripping them off completely, tossing them onto the floor to join his discarded shirt. He shuffles down the bed, settling between your thighs while a pout was evident on your lips.

"Let me taste you." he says, his breath hot against your core. Then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad stripe up your slit before focusing on your clit, sucking and flicking the sensitive bud.

"Oh god, Five!" you mewled, fisting the sheets beneath you. He doesn't let up, continuing his relentless pursuit, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every lap of his tongue and flick of his fingers. Your thighs tremble, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you feel your orgasm building rapidly.

"Baby, please" you moaned out, tangling your fingers in his hair and pushing his face harder against you. He groans in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

Without warning, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave. His name coming out as soft moans falling from your lips like a never ending chant as your back arches. Your inner walls clench and flutter around his fingers, coating his hand and chin in your essences.

He doesn't stop, continuing to lap at you through your high, prolonging your pleasure until you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. Only then does he pull away, his face glistening with your juices.

Crawling up to you, he captures your mouth in a needy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You can feel his hard length pressing insistently against your thigh, knowing damn well how needy he is.

Breaking the kiss he kneels in between your thighs as you watch him unbuckle his pants. The soft echo of the metal clicking hits your ears as he hastily kicks the restrictive piece of clothing to the floor.

“Fighting with your pants now?” You teased watching as he reaches over to the nightstand drawer and retrieves a condom, tearing it with his teeth.

Five adjusts the tinted rubber onto his pretty cock, making your mouth water just by looking at it, growing more impatient for him as you watch his veins and angry tip pulse against the snug condom.

“Yeah, because it’s stopping me from being with you” He rolls his eyes playfully.

Settling back between your thighs, he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick folds.

With a swift thrust of his hips, he buries himself inside you to the hilt, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the feel of your tight heat enveloping him.

"Fuck" he hisses, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening to gaze down at you intently. "You feel incredible."

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him even deeper as you both begin to move together, lost in the rhythm of your passion. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mutual moans and cries of pleasure.

He leans down to capture your mouth again, kissing you deeply as he drives into you again and again and again. One hand slides down to grip your breast, squeezing the flesh as he changes the angle of his thrusts slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars. He circles his thumb around your hardened nipples, pushing against the bud for that delicious friction.

Your nails rake down his back, leaving red lines in their wake while you mark his back, holding onto his skin like life depends on it.

He continues his relentless pace, the bed creaking beneath you with the force of his thrusts. You can feel another orgasm building quickly.

“Five, I'm s-so close…." you manage to gasp out, your voice high and breathy.

He doubles his efforts, pounding into you harder and faster, the room echoing with the crude slap of skin on skin and your escalating moans. "That's it, baby. Let go" Your boyfriend growls, his voice strained with his own growing orgasm.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you hang on for dear life, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. With a final cry of his name, you come undone, your inner walls clenching vice-like around his throbbing cock as a mind-blowing orgasm crashes through you.

Five buries his face in your neck, muffling his own shout of ecstasy against your skin as he finds his release, his hot seed spurting deep inside the condom. His hips jerk erratically, riding out the waves of his climax as he fills you with his essence.Your bodies remain entwined, both of you struggling to catch your breath in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking. He collapses onto you, his weight a delicious pressure against your sweat-slicked skin.

"Well…" he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder blade as he slowly softens inside you. "So much for finishing that movie."

You let out a breathless laugh, running your fingers through his damp hair.

"Our movie was better anyway." you reply, still basking in the afterglow.

He lifts his head to smile at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adore. "Of course you’d say that." he counters, leaning in to brush your lips with his in a sweet, intimate kiss.

As you both slowly come down from your euphoric high, he carefully pulls out of you, your bodies separating with a soft, intimate sound. He disposes of the condom, then settles in beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your back is pressed against his chest.

The room was now warm, filled with the slow rise and fall of your breathing, the dim glow from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the sheets.

Silence lingers for a while, comfortable and easy, until you finally break it.

“Y’know…” you murmur, voice drowsy but amused. “For someone who pretends to be all grumpy and emotionally detached, you sure are a clingy cuddler.”

Five scoffs, but his fingers don’t stop their slow, absentminded tracing along your skin. “Clingy?” he repeats, raising a brow. “I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re the one sprawled all over me.”

You peek up at him, lips twitching. “That’s called reciprocation. You started it.”

He hums, pretending to consider. “Mmm… no, I think it was you.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his ribs with your fingers. “Gaslighting me after that? Rude.”

He smirks, but instead of arguing, he leans down, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips. It’s soft, almost teasing, but there’s something undeniably tender about it, like he’s not quite ready to let go of the moment.

When he pulls back, you’re smiling, eyes half-lidded as you brush your fingers through his dark hair. “Fine, I’ll allow it” you sigh dramatically. “But only because the sex was amazing.”

Five scoffs again, shaking his head. “If this is what I have to put up with for the rest of my life, I might need to reconsider some choices.”

“Too late. You’re stuck with me.” You grin, shifting closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“God help me.” he mutters, but his arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing your temple.

Silence falls again, heavier with drowsiness this time. Your breathing slows, your body sinking further against his, and Five exhales softly, his fingers still trailing over your back, lulling you both toward sleep.

“… I am good in bed, though” he mutters after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper.

You snort. “Cocky much?”

“Shut up.”

You giggle, pressing your face into his chest, and with one last lingering kiss to your forehead Five lets out a quiet, contented sigh, pulling the blankets up around you both.

And just like that, you lose yourselves in each other again. Slow kisses, quiet laughter, hands lazily wandering as exhaustion finally starts to tug at the edges of your awareness.

You’re curled up in Five’s arms, limbs tangled beneath the sheets as he lazily traces circles on your bare back. His body is warm against yours, radiating that kind of comfortable heat that makes it impossible to move, even if you wanted to, which, at this point, you’re pretty sure Five wouldn’t even let you.

“You’re kind of a Velcro boyfriend.” You murmur, voice drowsy but amused.

Five pauses mid-trace, lifting his head slightly to look at you. “What?”

You grin, shifting just enough to glance up at him. “A Velcro boyfriend. You’re all over me, all the time.” You demonstrate by wiggling your arms slightly, only for Five to tighten his grip instinctively, proving your point.

His brows furrow. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not–” He stops, eyes narrowing. “Did you just make that up?”

“Nope. I saw it on TikTok.” You giggle, shaking your head.

Five stares at you, unimpressed. “Of course you did.”

“It’s a real thing!” you insist, laughing as you reach up to push his hair back. “It’s what people call their clingy boyfriends. Which you are.”

Five scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m not clingy. I just happen to like keeping you close.”

“Uh-huh…” You smirk.

“Velcro” You added just to egg him on.

He narrows his eyes at you, then, without warning, tightens his arms around you completely, rolling onto his back and dragging you with him so that you’re sprawled across his chest.

“Five!” You yelp in surprise, laughing as you try, and apparently fail, to wiggle free.

“You brought this on yourself” he says smugly, arms locked around you like an unbreakable vice.

You groan dramatically. “Oh my god. You’re literally proving my point.”

Five smirks, utterly unrepentant. “Good. Maybe this will teach you not to get your relationship terminology from a social media app made for children.”

“So what, you don’t want me calling you my Velcro boyfriend?” You huff, shifting slightly to rest your chin on his chest, pouting up at him.

Five pretends to consider, fingers trailing lazily down your spine. “…No. It sounds ridiculous.”

You grin. “Alright, Mr. Velcro.”

“I will leave you here.”

“No, you won’t” you hum smugly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Unfortunately, what a tragedy” Five sighs, long and suffering, but his grip on you stays firm, his lips brushing your temple as he mutters against your skin,

And despite all his protests, despite all his eye rolls and scoffs, Five doesn’t loosen his hold on you even once for the rest of the night. Leaving lazy kisses down your jaw to your shoulder.

“Alright, now we should actually sleep.” It’s only when your movements slow, kisses turning into sleepy pecks, that Five finally sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

You hum, curling closer to him, a small smile on your lips. “Five more minutes?”

His chuckle is quiet, but his arms tighten around you, holding you close as he presses one last kiss to your temple.

“Five more minutes.”

Slowly the world fades, leaving only warmth, tangled limbs, and the soft rhythm of each other’s breaths.