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#as in i always wanted to be a writer but i learned to bite down on that dream because obviously it wasn't going to work out

diejager · 5 months

Note

God! I love dark price, please write a part of dark price and reader with his son (I want a mini price 😔) I think it would be a boy 😅 but I'll leave it up to you <3 have a good day, best writer on Tumblr <3

Cage Cw: forced pregnancy, forced relationship, MENTION OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.

“Mama! Mama!” Two, childlike voices called out to you, their tones light and jovial with a child’s innocence, untainted by the horrors of the world.

Rapid pads followed after their screams, running steps heading your way as you turned to look at the source, putting down the knife you used to cut the ripe and fresh carrot for supper. Two pairs of hands grabbed at your pants, wide, blue eyes staring up at you with joy and wonder in their pretty eyes, they begged for attention.

You loved them. You truly did. From the lingering fat on their three-year old cheeks, their round, doe eyes in a stormy, blue shade, their chubby limbs and fingers holding onto you to the soft locks in the shade of your hair. From the adorable behaviour, pliant and obedient, always eager to listen to you if it meant receiving praises and kisses from you, to the innocence in their being, untouched by the cruelty you’ve seen when you were still working. But everything about them reminded you of him, of their father, of your husband. Your boy and daughter were spitting images of their father, only with your shade of hair.

“What wrong?” You crouched to their height, thumb rubbing the blue ink off the fat of your daughter’s cheek with your clean hand, you’d left the both of them in the living room with a box of coloured pens and paper to draw with.

“Hungry, Mama,” Olivia moaned, clutching her shirt with an adorable pout, reaching for her brother for help to convey her hunger.

You cooed at her, picking the both of them up, bobbing them until they sat comfortably on each side of you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as they cried and moaned about being hungry, about their tumtums making sound. You put them on separate chairs, handing them a small cracker to eat while your finished making your soup. Olivia and Arthur - you precious twins - liked the bland crackers, wanting something to bite into while their teeth grew, to stop the itch and discomfort of growing teeth.

“Mama’s almost finished, it’ll be done once Dada’s home, okay?” Your kids were smart, they understood words that most wouldn’t at this age. You chalked it up to them having your husband’s genes, his smart and quick decisions made it nearly impossible to beat him in a battle of wits, you learned that the hard way.

As if summoned by your voice, you heard the lock click, announcing your husband’s return from work. Hearing their father open the door, Arthur and Olivia jumped off their seats and rushed to the door, smiling and giggling, overjoyed to see their father home after leaving early in the morning. He bent down to kiss them, bringing them into his chest and blowing kisses, a few dozen on their forehead, another dozen on each cheek and a few on their pink nose, small and adorable.

“Go on, give Ma and Pa a moment, yeah?” He smiled softly, petting them on the head before coaxing them away, wanting a moment to hold you on his own.

He pulled you towards him, hands grasping onto your hips, strong and unyielding in his hold. He pressed his lips to your cheek, slowly trailing down to your lips with a searing and possessive kiss, demanding your attention and whole being. He nipped at your lip, teeth biting on your lower lip until you let out a small whimper, audible to him and you alone, protecting your children from Price’s darker side.

“John,” you mumbled, panting when he pulled away, your lips swollen from his rough kiss.

When you tried to move back, you were stopped by his grip on your nap, unaware that his hand snaked up to hold you still, keeping your face near his. His stormy eyes brewed with a cyclone, a violent and powerful torrent of emotions that had you shudder in fear and apprehension. He was strung high, pulled tight on the edges, his nerves burned to its core without any relief for him to come back down. You knew you would have to help him relax, to surrender your body to his whims.

“Let’s… let’s just eat dinner and get the kids to bed first, all right?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

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d10nyx · 1 month

Text

over again

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, heavy dub-con, forced ddlg, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, p in v, creampie, mentions of past drugging, daddy kink, lots of pet names

a/n: took me forever n ever to write this ahhh sorry :/ hope you all enjoy it !! feedback always appreciated !! hopefully the writers block will finally perish.

word count: 1.6k words

14 weeks. 98 days. 2352 hours.

Leon leaves the house at 7.30 am every morning, except for Sundays. From Monday to Thursday, he's home around 6 pm. On Fridays, he isn't home until around 9 pm. Saturdays are the worst because he's home just after lunch.

Usually, when he comes home, he goes to the bedroom and unlocks the door to let you out. He threads his hand in your leash to take you upstairs, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he takes you to the kitchen to eat a meal. He gives you your food on a pink, plastic princess plate with plastic cutlery, and cuts the food into bite size pieces. More often than not, he hand feeds you.

You don't fight it. You'd learned your lesson. You refused food from him once. For 2 out of your 14 weeks locked up in his home, he'd underfed you to the point of starvation until you were begging him to feed you. He sat you in his lap, cooing all sweet as you chewed and swallowed every mouthful he'd given you. That day was the first day he slept with you.

It wasn't all bad. He was sweet. Gentle. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was a loving boyfriend. Someone who cared for you, not the creep who'd snatched you from the street after you had a few too many drinks at your friend's party, promising you a better life, safe from the world.

But he isn't sweet, or nice, or kind. He didn't do this for you, despite what his twisted brain tells him. You can pretend all you want that he's something other than what he is, but it doesn't change what he is. A monster.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Where's my little princess?” Leon's asking as soon as he walks into the house, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up at the door. You recently got free reign of the home for being on your best behaviour. Didn't even have to keep the leash attached to your collar anymore. Lucky you.

“Here, daddy.” You say meekly, poking your head out of the living room to approach him, fiddling awkwardly with the edge of your shirt. Head down, so he doesn't have to see the defeated expression on your face as you force out the words, swallowing thickly to hold back your tears.

“You have a good day, sweetheart? You do any coloring in those cute little books I got you?” Leon's hands come up to your cheeks, gently stroking his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. You shake your head, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from saying something.

“No? Why not, baby? You don't like them? I got the one with lots of kitties. Pretty girls like you like cute things, don't they?” He coos, squishing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips all pouty so he can lean down and give them a little kiss, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ as soon as his lips make contact.

“You eat at least? I left some food in a lunchbox for you.” You shake your head again, and this time it seems to elicit a worse reaction. His brows furrow, and his hand grips your face even tighter. “No? Silly baby… can't do anything without daddy, can you? Come on. Daddy'll feed you, cutie.”

He heats up some food for you and puts it on a plate. The pink, plastic princess plate. He sits you on his lap and feeds it to you from a fork. Pink, plastic fork. The routine is the same, no matter how much you wish for it to change. When you finish eating, he presses a tender kiss to your head and rocks you in his arms.

“Such a good girl. Good girls get rewarded, princess.” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck, trailing them up until he's nosing at the hair behind your ear. His hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt, his thumb swiping your swollen bud through the already damp fabric. It didn't matter if you didn't want it. Your body didn't seem to understand what was happening - all it knew was Leon made you feel good. You hated how compliant you got when he touched you, how any thoughts of defiance melted away.

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

You whimper as he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties. He parts your puffy lips with practiced ease as he continues on with the next part of his routine. 98 days later and he's mapped every inch of your body perfectly - found out everything that has you keening under his touch. Your hips buck as he runs his fingertip between your folds, gathering slick before rubbing small circles into your clit.

“Poor, dumb baby. She's soaking me already. You couldn't make yourself feel good when daddy was gone, huh, sweetheart?” His words are followed up by a finger burying itself in your tight heat, curling to find that gummy spot that has you clenching around him and bucking your hips. “Pretty princess cunt's been drooling for me all day.”

A choked sob leaves you when he pulls his cock out and sits you on top of it. He pulls you down until he's buried to the hilt, groaning as you tighten around his length. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with tiny little kisses. You can't help but cry whenever Leon fucks you. 98 days later and you still sob whenever he bullies your cervix with his dick. No matter how many times he makes you cum or makes you go dumb on his cock, it doesn't change anything. He took everything from you - your family, your friends, your job.

You hated yourself more than Leon. For letting him break your walls down. For clinging to him as he tightens his grip on your waist, manhandling you on his cock, lifting you up and down. For finding yourself missing him when he's at work.

“Love…love you, daddy…” Your words come out more like a cry, nose all runny and cheeks wet with tears as he fucks up into you, his head shifting to hang back in pleasure. His fingers dig into your waist as he hears the words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he smiles - all toothy and bright like it always is when you say that.

“Love you even more, princess.” He grunts out, leaning back on the seat to force himself deeper into your pussy, guiding your hips back and forth so you're grinding his cock inside of you, rubbing your pretty clit against his happy trail. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping into his shoulders as your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Daddy… daddy…” You gasp out as your orgasm hits, your lips parting as you gush all over him. The look on your face as you cum is enough to have his balls tighten, his teeth gritting as he starts to shallowly thrust into you once more, chasing his own release. You always cry when you cum, and Leon always kisses the tears away when you do, his lips pressing against the wetness on your cheeks repeatedly. Another part of the ritual, another moment repeating day after day.

“Want daddy to fill you up, sweet girl?” He grunts, nipping at your neck as he wraps his arms tight around your waist in a bear hug, holding you steady as he fucks up into your drippy cunt. “Gonna warm you up right in that cute lil’ tummy.”

His hips stutter as his orgasm hits him, his jaw going slack as he presses the tip of his cock right up against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his sticky cum. He slides a hand under your shirt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your tummy.

“That's it. Keep it all in, okay? Daddy doesn't want to see his little angel spill a single drop.” He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He holds you there for a couple of minutes, cradling you against his chest until it's time to go to sleep.

Before bed that night, Leon ushers you into the bathroom. Like every night before this one, he gently grips your jaw with one hand as he stands behind you, his other hand gripping your pink princess toothbrush as he brushes your teeth, his eyes locked onto you through the mirror. At bedtime, he tucks you in and curls up behind you, spooning you with one hand on one of your tits, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.

Tomorrow is a Friday. He wakes you up at 6.30 am with a kiss to your head as always, a warm cup of milk in one hand and your breakfast in the other. He feeds you off of a pink, plastic princess plate and presses a kiss to your lips before leaving at 7.30 am on the dot.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #tw dark content

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

Note

Hiya!! I’m obsessed with your writing. You’re my favorite writer on here, I dream of your stories!

Would it be possible to request (either with Ghost or Price, I love them both equally) something like they were young love but he breaks up with reader cos he wants to keep her safe and thinks he knows what’s best for her. Then during a mission gone wrong, they need a safe house but somehow the enemy found out all the locations of their approved safe houses. He remembered her place is close by and tries his luck. Maybe she gets mad at him for making decisions for her or maybe he learns about her difficult past that happened without with. But with a happy ending? ☺️

Only if this inspires you! Thank you again for sharing your beautiful writings!

If You Bite My Hand Again

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: How dare he show his face to you after all of these years. How dare you still find it in yourself to love him.

WORDCOUNT: 6.6k

WARNINGS: Heavy angst, abandonment, arguments, mentions of death, blood, insinuations of torture & mental illness troubles, Simon's comic backstory, hurt/comfort, sort of suggestive?, anxiety attack, somewhat happy ending, etc.

A/N: This was really fun to write, lol, enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You never should have met him. In fact, it seemed like the universe had been adamant to make you not run into each other on that chilly October morning almost…well…it has to be more than thirteen years ago, now. So long.

As you head to your kitchen and glance at the clock, the hands point to a perfect three-fifteen—an hour of pitch-blackness and whispering winds that dash past the musty glass of the windows. The thump of your footsteps blocks out the heaving sigh that falls from your mouth; rubbing at your eyes like a cat as great bags sag from tired flesh.

The dreams weren’t uncommon.

Simon still reigned supreme in the conjuring of them, ingrained into the sinews and pulled thin by a hand constantly working them—knitting a sweater of memories addled with age. Moth-eaten.

As you snap on the light of your tiny and run-down kitchen, the bulb fizzing and the dishwasher still emitting that squeal as it always does, you think about him before grabbing a glass. Water hits and fills the thing up as your eyes blankly stare, fatigued but yet never more awake.

The tremors in your hands persist.

You never should have met him.

—

Your feet take you to Primary, laces a mess atop your little shoes caked in mud and grass—you’d chased after a butterfly through the front yards, getting caught in your neighbor's bushes and having to slip your way out before she could rampage outside with her broom.

It was no surprise that your face was lit with a bright smile, eyes shining like fire that your teachers had given you a special name for—“Ember.”

The very thing that could start a blaze over and over again as long as it still was alight.

Laughing and peeing out leaves from your hair; flattening out your uniform, you stride with pride ingrained into your body. Well, you did before you heard the soft sniffling coming from down the alley.

Halting, your ears perk at the sounds, smile freezing as you blink quickly. Looking to your left, you lock onto the hunched figure of a boy.

Perhaps only a year or two older than you, you stare in curiosity as he consciously paws at his cheeks, walking out of the alley in broken and odd strides. His uniform is ruffled, wrinkled, but not in the way yours was.

He must have fallen and hurt himself, you reason with a child-like frown pulling on your lips. Blinking at his blond hair, you get a glimpse of red-rimmed brown eyes.

The boy halts, looking at you widely, fear and pain emanating from his expression. You’re the first to speak, brightness still in your eyes but a deep innocence that comes with youth. All you saw was a boy your age in pain—that was strange to you. You knew what getting hurt was like; you fell and scraped your knees often, or hit your elbows on corners. Sometimes you would cry from that…did the same happen to this boy?

“You’re crying, aren’t you?” Brown-Eyes stares, hurriedly pushing at his face to wipe tears but only succeeds in making his face red from the material of his uniform. “Did you fall down? I do that pretty often—it’s okay, my Mum says you’ll be better after a hug and a kiss!”

You smile and stand straighter.

“I,” the boy begins, sniffling. “I didn’t fall. I’m not clumsy.”

You tilt your head, confused. ��Well…then why are you crying?”

“That’s none of your business!” He snaps, brows pulled in as he comes forward on the sidewalk. Your face twists as you huff in annoyance.

“My Mum says to treat everyone nicely. That wasn’t very nice.”

“I don’t bloody care, do I,” you’re sent a scathing glance as he passes. “I didn’t ask for you to speak to me. Leave me alone.”

Naturally, you follow after, cheeks gaining heat.

“You’re being mean! Apologize!”

“Would you run off already?!” The boy shouts, and perhaps something fires in that small brain of yours—a thought and a semblance of self-realization at the shame that emits from his tone. A tight squeeze of vocal cords.

He was ashamed. Ashamed you’d caught him. Seen him.

Your feet slow back to a stop, watching him hurriedly continue on and hearing the quiet gasps of breath. After a moment, you grit your teeth and run the distance; seizing him around the middle in a hug of stubby fingers and tightly closed eyes.

The boy startles, body hardening and a cry escaping his lungs. “Get off of me!” He shouts, hands snapping down to yours and digging under your hold.

“No!” You call, stubbornly. “My Mum says that hugs make everything better—”

“Stop talking about your Mum!” The boy stomps his foot to the ground, chubby cheeks turning crimson as he tilts his head back to look at you, tears still dripping off his chin.

A stiff silence falls but like a green branch on a tree, Brown-Eyes’ form twitchingly loosens, his prying hands softening as you hold tight—digging your nose into his spine. He minutely flinches, but you only hug him more.

You’re both late to the building, and your teachers are going to give you scoldings. But right now, on a chilled October morning, you hug this strange, crying boy and blink your fiery eyes up at him.

After he relaxes fully and the sniffling stops, you let go and smile brightly again, looking up into his open expression of innocent confusion. Whatever had happened, he must have fallen pretty hard, you thought, pulling out another leaf from your hair. You giggle and hand it over as a gift.

The boy hesitantly picks it up and looks at it before turning back to you.

“Call me Ember.”

A pause. A hesitation. But your eyes shimmer and he relents with the memory of the hug in the front of his mind. Such a strange encounter.

He speaks, looking away from you with flushed cheeks, muttering out as his tear streaks dry.

“...Simon.”

You walk together the rest of the way.

The reality was, if you had gotten caught by your neighbor, had snatched that butterfly—had even stayed in those bushes for three more seconds, you would have missed him. And if Simon hadn’t run out of his home crying, he never would have locked onto the burning reality that was with you.

—

You put the glass to your chapped lips and take a long sip, throat bobbing as you take down the liquid with tears burning your eyes. Blinking rapidly, you swipe at the water at the sides of your mouth and shake your head, sighing.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” Your voice bounces off the walls, peeling paint and moving the dust stuck atop the fridge. “Damnit, Simon.”

Today was worse than the others—everything building and stacking like some castle of misery and pain; windows too narrow to let in any light and your form stuck in shadows longer than an endless rope. There were just so many things that suffocated you now.

And in the endless nights, the brain desperately looks for comfort.

You hate that it only comes from the memories of him.

“I have to go to work tomorrow.” Your subconscious reminds you as you blankly stare out the window above the sink, seeing the streetlights and the cone of warm light—it flickers every so often, a blinking taking place like the eye of a large, brutish, wolf.

Work, then the grocery store, then back home to eat a tasteless dinner and fall back to sleep. An empty house with empty walls and empty memories.

Your hands put the glass in the sink, coming back up to rub and dig into your eyes until the itch behind your flesh stops. A thump of a low pulse is felt in the thin skin, orbs of your optics moving before you pinch into the bridge of your nose and drop them with a slap of a hand to the counter. A harsh breath exits your mouth, but it’s quickly strangled away into a sound of ragged shock.

Outside, under the light, the silhouette of a man leans heavily on the pole, feet shaking under him and face pressed into the shadows as his shoulders heave. You stare, wide-eyed, as your heart jumps to a rapid pace.

“What the fuck?” Your mouth utters, watching the man push off the light and stagger with a heavy limp and a jerking body of immense stature. Whoever this guy was, he was out of his mind—and coming right for your front door. You startle to go and secure it, feet slapping the ground and face twisted.

“What the fuck?!” Gasping, you re-check your locks and frantically look for something else—the stool where you place your keys meets your eyes. You grab it and place it as a barrier to the handle, tilting it on two legs and blinking quickly as whatever sleep-sheen that had been in your gaze leaves in one swoop of adrenaline.

Grunting wafts in from under the door, haggard inhales and a sudden slam of a body hitting the door. You stifle a scream and back up quick steps, slapping your hands to your mouth.

Sure, you might live in a shitty neighborhood, but no one had ever tried to just straight-up break in high or drunk off something. Your mind slashes to the knives in the kitchen drawer as the wall shakes again—something sliding down to the ground and a grunted whine.

Just before you run off, you hear it. An utterance; a disruption of airwaves. A whisper, a plea. Your brain ceases to function with one foot back the way you came, hand on the frame with the knuckles tight.

In one instance it all comes to a screeching halt.

“Ember…”

Who called you that anymore? The rare instance where you’d meet your classmates in the world they would mutter it; also be asked a few questions before they went on with their lives. You pause in your panic, slowly gazing back at the barrier and the stool like you’d just discovered you’re under the sights of a sniper.

There’s a sliver of something that inserts itself into your brain. Fear or hope, you can’t tell. But that can’t be right.

He left.

“Ember!” You flinch, the deep Manchester accent grating your heart into shreds. No. “It’s me!” He says, followed by a horribly gritty cough.

There’s a weak thump against the door, mumbled curses, and growls as if a wild animal mimicking human speech. You almost wished for that, considering you now knew the exact person behind the door down to his atoms. The brown of his eyes and the way his cheeks looked as they were stained with tears.

His laugh. Simon’s voice. Everything.

Simon.

You’re rushing to rip the stool away with a clatter and a jerk as it hits the far wall, undoing the locks with shaking hands as you grasp the handle and wrench it sideways.

His form slams to your feet with a loud grunt as the door hits the wall.

“Fuckin’ hell! Mind your bloody—!” Whatever he said was lost to you as you stare at the bloodied form of the man you had thought you’d seen the last of. Tactical gear, terrifying skull mask, black on black with weapons galore. But that voice told you all you needed to know.

Simon Riley is alive and very much breathing.

The same boy you still loved.

The same boy who’d broken your heart.

—

After October the years with Simon seemed to strengthen. You always walked together in the mornings—or, at least, you always waited for him. The dawn of your friendship strengthened and hardened to an unbreakable amount of mid-day rays; vast and sunny.

When he was sixteen he asked you to be his girlfriend, hand in his pockets and ache on his chin as he grunted out broken sentences. Stuttering and awkward. You’d smiled with your bright eyes and giggled before kissing his cheek—feeling his sigh and him melting into you with a grin of his own, unable to meet your eyes for a moment.

Later, when he said he’d wanted to leave his apprenticeship at the grocery’s butcher shop and join the Special Air Service, you’d been along for the ride—anything to get him away from his father and brother. You knew what was going on, even if he was still so hesitant to allow you any glimpse of his home life.

When he’d shy away at the Halloween decorations of skeletons as if the skull would jump off the page and tense at loud cheering, you knew. You did what you could, but there was only so much for you to suggest or say without him shutting down.

When you’d offered your flat as a safe space after graduation, desperate to help your Lover, he’d stared and blinked in shock; tilting his head at you before smiling softly and taking you into a hug. Wherever he went, he knew he’d always have a place by your side.

So, throughout his leaves of absence from the military, he’d come home to you—bruised and tired, but still the same Simon you fell in love with. You’d cook for him, tease at his shaved hair as he gave you those puppy-dog eyes, and talked him through your classes at University.

You would fall asleep on his chest, feeling the hard strength he was gaining and the way he held you tighter than he ever had; conscious of himself but not wanting to part with you.

The love the both of you had was akin to a blaze of fire, and you often found Simon simply staring into your eyes in times like those—watching silently and rubbing his thumb along your spine until your face burned.

He was always so gentle despite everything; you loved his perseverance, his drive to be good despite nearly every factor telling him he couldn’t be. Slowly but surely, he was forging his own life.

In 2003 he managed to take a break from the military to get his family straightened out. His brother, Tommy, went to rehab—Simon stayed with his mother and a year later he kicked his father to the curb and out of his and his family's life entirely. Finally free.

You managed to meet his lovely mum, still so bright, and even interacted with Tommy once he got out; went to the younger brother’s wedding in ‘06 and met Beth, his wife. When you saw Simon’s mother and the way she carried herself, you knew where your Love got his pride from. The two were so alike it was a sight to see.

While it may not have been conventional by any standard, Simon proposed to you in the back garden of Tommy’s cheap wedding venue. Alone, so as not to cause a scene. Willow trees and a small stream of water. Fireflies. The words ring in your soul with every waking moment, and they will stay there until it all goes silent with the grip of death.

He didn’t want to use his mum’s ring—the one that holds so many bad memories for both parties. He’d used the gold from it though. Went to a man who bled him dry for money to have it re-cast.

It was simple. A small, glinting, ruby pressed in the middle.

“It was always goin’ to be you, Ember, yeah?” he’d muttered in his deeper voice, formal attire holding you both tight. “So…don’t make me beg too much, Sweetheart. You know the old lady’ll kill me if I get stains on my suit.”

“Beg?” You responded, tears in your eyes but such a wide grin on your lips. The stars above you twinkle like the pupils of your eyes—the same burn still trapped. “Oh, Simon, come on, now.” He connects his forehead to yours, hand still in the middle of you and presenting the accumulation of all of his love. The other wraps your waist.

He was shaking slightly.

“I would never make you beg for my love, Brown-Eyes.”

You both share a breathless chuckle and lock lips, smiling like fools as he sighs into you.

In a happy world, that would have been the beginning of a perfect life. A happy house. A happy wedding. Happy deaths.

But something went wrong on one of his deployments.

Missing for months, he came back…wrong. With a fiery temper and sharp snapping words—wounds on the outside as well as inside. His eyes were feral, like a dog held back by a broken chain carting around its feet.

Simon never spoke about it—the missing days. The weeks. The months.

You broke yourself over it, trying to help but not knowing what would make it better. Some days there were flickers of soft expressions, but it was as if he were dragging himself up from a pool so deep it was bottomless to show them to you. Simon rarely smiled. He rarely sent an affectionate glance.

He didn’t let you touch him.

And then he called the entire engagement off with a letter on your counter only holding four words.

‘Don’t look for me.’

And then Simon’s mum, Tommy, Beth, and his nephew had all died. Been killed. And you were just supposed to move on? Live with that? There were times when you had breakdowns so bad you couldn't leave the house for days—the house that Simon and you had bought together.

All of those years.

All those vows and shared nights.

And he disappeared on you.

—

You have him sitting on the couch, watching silently from the chair across the room as he finishes wrapping his leg with the bandages from the first-aid kit you’d provided.

More like chucked at his gut.

No one had said a word, and the air was as tense as a noose—choking any oxygen that traveled into your throat. Simon was getting blood all over your flat cushions, the crimson saturating the fabric as you sit rail-rod straight, hand clenched on your thighs.

Simon’s avoiding your eyes.

“Take off the mask,” you hiss, pupils slits. If he wasn’t going to address it, then you were. Simon freezes, not breathing as his hands fall stationary around the bandages.

“I’ll be fine in a while—”

“Take off your fucking mask, Simon.” You can’t help the way you snap, face burning with shame and hate. How dare he show up now, after all of these years of mourning him and the relationship you’d built as kids. Simon wasn’t just your boyfriend—your fiancé—he was your best friend.

And all he’d done was left you a four-fucking-letter note before leaving you behind.

The geared man sighs silently, and you see his shoulders sag. His grip travels up as he straightens his spine in a fluid motion, pain medication working through him in waves of numbness.

His brown eyes bore through you as if he were a ghost. Under the fabric, his mouth thins. “Ma’am.”

Even his voice is older. More dead. How could this be your Simon?

Your heart bruises your ribcage as he grasps the top of his skeletal mask, gloved fingers peeling back the sown layers until you get the full image of a man more damaged than before. You have to stop yourself from sobbing right then and there; your throat going dry.

So many scars. Milky white and spread vastly—they weren’t pretty. Up his cheeks, down his brow line; even at the corner of his mouth and seeping down his neck. A crooked nose with damaged cartilage. Strangling a gasp, it comes out as a great expelling of horror, eyes going wide with shock.

You hate how you want to rush to him, take his face in your hands, and try to brush them away as if marks on paper. But you don’t make any such movements beyond a hunch of your shoulders.

“Not pretty, eh? Guess I should’ve warned you.” Simon rubs at his forehead, blond locks, hanging around his temple, and the black of face-paint stuck in his sockets. “Didn’t mean to fuckin’ drop in like this, Ember. Bloody bastard thing for me to do.”

You flinch at the name, looking away as you’d been peeling back his skin with your eyes. “What are you doing here, Simon?” Anyone with a brain could hear the cracking hardness in your words. Face blank.

He studies your features, taking in the changes and the bleakness of your expression. Brows furrow slightly before they go back to a state of nothingness. Simon glances around the room, finding the condition of things concerning but doesn’t show it.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about comin’ back to you, Sweetheart. Just work.”

“It is when the bastard who abandoned me shows up years later, bloody on my doorstep. Stop acting so self-righteous,” you growl, snapping, “I should toss your arse outside and let them have you. And don’t fucking call me that.”

Silence descends, and your words echo. It’s like now that he was here everything hurt ten times more than when he wasn’t.

“I never wanted us to end up like we did—”

“Bullshit!” You’re on your feet and stalking to him, pointing with your finger as he hurriedly stands up as well and looks down in shock as you press your digit into his bulky vest. “You shut your mouth, Simon Riley, and you let me explain something to you.”

He keeps silent, mouth parted and scars shifting around his stubble. His hands slightly held out at his sides and hovering over your hips—not touching you but there just in case. Simon’s brown ords are carefully widened at your tight exclamation. The sound of his clearing throat enters the living room before you speak again.

“I waited for you, hoped and prayed that you would show me at least a,” your throat bunches, but you push through. “A modicum of respect and show your stubborn self up at my door with apology flowers and a guilty smile on your lips. You know who took care of your family's burial plots, you fucking piece of shit,” his eyes flinch closed a bit, turning his head down as his breath hitches. “Me! You fucking disappeared!”

You know you shouldn’t be yelling, shouldn’t be pounding on his chest with a fist as if he was a door and you the knocker, but, dammit, it’s been years and he just shows up? Like this? Ten times the size he was—scarred and torn to shreds; laced with muscles and an expression of vacancy. Simon holds to your words, hanging off of them with a down-ward turned chin and eyes that lock with yours through pale lashes.

“Maybe I-I did, o…or pushed some things that I shouldn’t have,” you hold back your tears, but your voice still wavers, tapering off like a line without a hook, “but I didn’t deserve that, Simon.” The first traitorous sob breaks through. “I didn’t deserve that.”

His eyes shatter into a myriad of kaleidoscope bits and pieces, brows flicking from one point on your face to another in quick slashes of guilt. But he still doesn’t touch you. Not until you tell him it’s what you want.

Simon opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly, unable to find any words that would even matter. You let your tears slip down your cheeks, dribbling off your chin. The man’s chest hurts, pulse thumping to mirror yours.

“I waited for you and you broke me,” you whisper, mouth twisting with odium towards the man under your fist. “I wanted a life with you, Simon, no matter the trials.”

“I didn’t mean to…” The man trails off, clenching his jaw. You scoff, backing up a step and pressing your palms into your eyes.

“But you did.”

“I had to keep you safe, Ember.” Simon’s fingers twitch outward, eyes frantically moving around as you sniffle and shakily walk away to the kitchen. He follows, desperately on your heels as your spine bows forward with resounding cries of anguish. “I...I wasn’t right in the head, I need you to understand I didn’t want this! I never wanted to fucking hurt you!”

Your hand connects with the junk drawer, tearing it open and digging a hand inside as he pleads with you to listen.

“If I didn’t leave I was worried I’d do something—!”

“Then you should have trusted me!” Your hands rip out the ring held on a small leather strap. The ruby glints where it always sits, held in tarnished gold. You chuck it at his chest and suck down breaths so you don’t pass out. “I would have listened! Gotten you help! We don’t abandon the ones we love, Simon! Not us!”

Simon catches the object by slapping a hand to his chest, pinky finger latching through the leather cord before he jerks his limb back up. When he looks at the ring, he goes utterly still, gazing back up at you slowly.

“We were supposed to be different,” you sob, trapping it behind your hands. He’s shaking, brows tight and lines along his face as he brings a free hand to run through his locks, gripping the strands for a moment and pulling. “Simon,” you say again, and he looks back at you with glossy eyes. “We were supposed to be better.”

“What did I do to you to deserve that,” he stares, his jaw is loose and he can’t stop clenching and unclenching it. You can see his heart working through his breast. Bloodied. Beaten by fists and slashed with knives. “What did I do to you?”

“Nothing,” he gasps, taking a step forward. “Fuck, Ember, you didn’t bloody do anything to me besides love me.”

You sputter out, “Then why did you leave me here alone?” Your knees buckle and he darts forward, catching you under the arms as you wail out, shoving on his waist, “You never should have come back. Never should have come back.”

He lets you push him off; lets you back up to the counter as Simon tilts his head higher to stave off the tears in the sides of his eyes. He’d known coming here was a bad idea, for lack of a better word, but after the Op went bad and all of his safe houses were compromised, he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t to say he didn’t regret his actions in the past with you, or that he didn’t punish himself for them, yet at the time it was the only thing he could do to give him the sense that you would be better without him. Safe.

After everything that had happened, he wasn’t in the right state of mind anymore. You deserved so much better. But hearing all of this…

Christ, could he have been wrong? Everything blurred; hurt. Hearing your sobs was like a knife to his heart every time, digging and cutting with serrated edges at the veins and pumping muscle, carving away flesh to shed the pounding redness to light. You held that heart in your hand and in his he held the ring—the ring he’d given to you as a promise of love and honor.

A pact of loyalty.

Simon doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the blurring edges of his vision make itself known. His eyes bore harshly, prodding into you as he makes known what he’s been broken since he first locked gazes with you again. The man’s voice shakes, accent deep and tight.

He asks the first thing that comes to his head.

“What happened to your eyes?”

“What?” You ask, incredulously, brows furrowed as your hand digs into the counter to keep you upright. Simon stares deeper, the sides of his eyelids wrinkling with a not-so-hidden sheen of great concern. Unbearable pain.

“What happened to your bloody eyes?” Where had the spark gone? That flare that grew and spread like fire that was the entire purpose behind your name. An unconquerable ache for life.

You only watch him with a parted mouth and tear-stained lashes, sniffling. Simon tries again, taking a step forward on unsteady feet.

“Please, Sweetheart, d…don’t, don’t…” He can’t finish, the leather cord intertwined into his fingers as he comes closer. “Don’t tell me I took it away. Not my Ember. Not my Girl’s fire.”

Your eyes are so overflowed you can’t even see him as he hovers over you, fingers coming up to brush your cheeks as his mouth is open in hard pants of breath. “No, no, no. Fuckin’ bastard, not me. Not over me, please.” It’s like Simon’s not even talking to you but rather himself.

He mutters in fast sentences, eyes panicked. “You were supposed to be better off—‘posed to move on. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you find someone else?”

“You’re an idiot, Simon. An idiot,” you sag into his neck, nose digging into his pulse as he quivers, legs having to reset themselves. His heat melts into you as your body gives out with a final sob, “It was always going to be you.”

His arms snap around you like a vise, dragging you into him as he breaks and stifles his whimper on your scalp, breathing right by your ear; gasping for breath.

“M’sorry,” he mutters, so silent below his sniveling stutters, “M’so sorry, Sweetheart. This is all my fucking fault.”

You shake into his chest, face nuzzling and desperate to smell his scent again—tired from all the yelling and fighting. It was still late, you still needed to go to work tomorrow…but Simon.

Oh, Simon. How could he be so…him?

Your sobs are quieter than his, tiny cries that make the man’s arms tighten around you every time. Hands coming up, you can’t stop the way you want to hold him; how you wish to keep him close to you and push him away all at once. How dare he?

How dare he still make you love him after all he’d put you through?

Simon sags to the floor with you in his hold, head bowed and trying to gasp down his vulnerability as tears stain your shoulder. It’s as if the realization that he’d made a mistake had broken him back down to when he was young, past hatred of messing up infesting his brain like maggots. A fear of it, even.

The man presses quick, panicked kisses to your neck as his breath hitches every other second, rocking you back and forth.

“Didn’t mean to do it,” Simon utters. “Didn’t mean for it to hurt you—”

He breaks off and you realize that despite the years Simon’s mind was still very much fragile when it came to home life. You blink and take a deep breath, unable to get out of his unrelenting grip.

Your hand travels up to find the back of his head, spreading through his hair and massaging his flesh. When things got bad you used to do this with him. Give the man something to focus on so he could pass through his hysteria quicker.

Simon’s ribcage bangs against yours, nearly hyperventilating with how he’s trying to hide his small grunts and whines.

“Simon,” you clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down as seriousness sets in your tone. “Simon, breathe.”

Your ears twitch, noticing him listen to you as he takes down a long gasp of air and breathes out in puffs on your neck—hot and humid.

“Ember…”

“Shh,” interrupting, you shush him in tiny whispers, still rubbing at his head. “Brown-Eyes, just sit here, okay?” You feel a jerky nod, his fingers squeezing your flesh off and on as he mimics your own lung pattern.

It’s a few minutes before he goes completely still again, and you feel the burn of shame from his face in your clutch. The relationship was strained—or whatever you could call this—but you never wanted to see him in pain. Never.

You knew he was better when he sighs deeply, completely going limp in your arms; great weight leaning into you as you lean back to the cabinets to help with the pure might of his physique. With a slow hand, you un-velcro his vest and his gear, letting it hit the floor with dull thumps and clatters.

He doesn’t protest, doesn’t move to help or hinder. You would give anything to know what he was thinking.

“M’sorry,” Simon whispers and you respond accordingly, softly.

“You’ve already said that, Love.” He grunts, taking in a long, deep breath.

“Need you t’know it.”

“...I do.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes and stave off your anger at everything happening right now. While it would feel better to yell at him until dawn, what would that even achieve? Everything had needed to be said, had been. And you’d never felt lighter than at this moment.

You knock your head against him, the both of you panting for breath and hands vibrating with leaving adrenaline. Sweaty and twitchy.

“You never should have done that, Simon.” Whispering, you sigh. “I needed you. I needed you here. With me.” He stays still, but you feel his lips press deeper into your pulse. You’re practically in his lap, back to the woodgrain.

In a moment of weakness, or pure longing, you pull his head back and situate your hands at his cheeks, looking over his scars and his broken skin as he lets you move him how you wish. His half-lidded, red, eyes stare—grip around you not letting up.

Simon doesn’t speak as, unprompted, you kiss the shattered bridge of his nose; you only feel the fluttering of his lashes as they tickle your cheeks.

“I was scared of myself.” He mutters. “After they died…” His family. “I didn’t want to put you in danger, Ember. Not you.”

“We would have figured it out, Simon. You know that, deep down, you do.” Brown eyes find yours as you tilt his head.

“You sure?” He asks, desperate for an answer even though he doesn’t know himself.

Thumbs run up and down his stubble. Your face creases, “...I don’t know. But we could have tried.”

Simon’s eyes close tightly, and his face tilts to press his lips to your palm, quivering breath exhaled with the strength of an open balloon. Your ring was still stuck in his digging grip, and it was never going to leave for the rest of the night.

“Yeah,” he whispers, gravely voice lax.

Studying him now, in this light, knowing he was so afraid of what he might do if he got into an episode, you were stabbed with agony in your heart. To be that afraid of yourself to that magnitude was nearly unimaginable to you.

Nearly.

“What now?” You ask lowly, the last remnants of tears drying as Simon opens his eyes slowly, looking back at you.

“Don’t know.” He admits. “I have to leave.”

“I have work tomorrow,” you relate. Your teeth find your lip, biting it.

A small awkward chokehold captures the both of you. The reality was that both of you were akin to strangers again—such was the curse of lost years and trials you’d faced along the way.

Brown-Eyes and Ember were dead, yet you still called their names like phantoms of sleek black fabric and chained recollections of a boy with red cheeks and a girl with muddy shoes. The walks to school were there, the dates, and the late nights spent in good company. Touches to skin and open-mouthed kisses. Fireflies that whizzed and the glinting of gold as wind ran through the willows.

Dark corruption stained the faint idea of happiness; of a good world. This was not reality. It was some joke of an existence.

If life were fair, Simon Riley would have never grown up in that house—his father wouldn’t have latched onto his brother and done dark deeds to wrap the little brown-eyed boy in red tissue paper and barbed wire. A present and sheen of mild sociopathy; separation of any pain or torment. A fighting boy. A boy born with blood on his hands and stuck behind his eyes every time he swung a fist.

It was a curse to love him. And it was a curse that burned your soul with his very name.

“Are you going to go?” You ask, eyes blank but yearning for what little comfort you can grab. It had been so long. Simon blinks, his head still in your hands; body not moving.

He knows he should. He isn’t sure if there’s anything left for him here or not.

Simon connects his head to yours and you still. “Do you want me to?”

“Do you love me?” You blurt, blinking at him and confused. Simon’s lips part. “Or if you walk out that door do I plan on never seeing you again?”

You're about to open your mouth and continue before his own slots perfectly against it.

You gasp lightly, taken aback but in no way opposed. He still felt exactly the same, flesh still tasting metallic and tinged with violence down to his DNA; raised with survival instincts as his greatest ally. Until you.

With you survival became secondary.

Your hands go to card through his hair, latching and lightly pulling as Simon’s body shivers; growling against your lips in a dance of heated flesh and damp cheeks. Hearts hammer with the restraint of years.

“I would never make you beg for my love,” he murmurs between lapsing passes of his mouth, open kisses and dark glances. “Tell me where you want me to be.”

You whimper against him and he goes back in, pressing the base of your skull to the cabinet as hands grip and slide, kneading your skin.

“Tell me,” Simon whispers. Pleads through grunts. “Ember, tell me.”

“Here,” you admit brokenly, pulling him closer to you as you’re lifted and placed on the countertop. “I need you here, Simon. I need you with me.”

Fingers capture your chin, keeping your head angled up as your eyes beg. Lips bush with every word, gazes wild as if two leopards locking jaws over a kill.

“Fight to get me back.” Brown sparks with purpose, a small puff of air hitting your mouth as eyes darken over. In this moment, you do not know if you’re dying or living. “Make it right.”

“Affirmative.” Simon moves his head back, taking your ring and looping the cord around his neck, he keeps it there as you watch, breathless. Your face creases with question. The man’s lips flicker when he sees this, coming back and grasping your hips as you instinctually latch to his waist.

“I’ll give it back when I’ve earned the right for you to be called mine again. Seems I have work to do, Sweetheart.” He kisses you once more, firm and true. “First, I’ll ‘ave to figure out if my Girl can get her spark back, yeah? I’ve proper gone and fucked it up.”

That night you lay in the heap of limbs and sheets that couple the both of you together. In the morning the questions would start, and Simon knew you’d take nothing short of the truth.

And he’d give you it. All of it.

Because Simon Riley knows well enough that you don’t go and bite the hand that feeds twice. Certainly not when it was you. Certainly not when it offers a love he would never hope to find again, in this life or the next.

So you keep the other close and sag into a deep slumber, not to wake for a long, long time.

And you’d both never slept better

TAGS:

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he-calls-me-kitten · 5 months

Note

Hiii I was wondering if you take requests? If you do could you pleaseee do a Lucifer and MC smut 🙏 if not it’s totally okay but I also wanted to say you are genuinely one the best writers I’ve seen you have a serious talent 🫶🫶

Aww thank you so much for your kind words 😭💕 Also ofc it's okay! Lucifer x MC smut coming right up :3

#05 Complex

Lucifer x GN! MC

You appear in the student council room at recess, following the instructions he texted you. He's already there waiting. The way he is sitting alone at the head of the table - you already know you're not here for work.

He didn't even gesture at a chair or pull one out for you. He simply pushed himself away from the table. You already know where you were supposed to sit.

"MC, I need you to revise some documents to make sure I didn't make any errors." Lies. His work has always been immaculate. He has never needed revisions.

You take your place on his lap as intended and pretend to rifle through the documents, barely scanning the titles and subjects. Meanwhile one of his hands had already made it inside your shirt, casually going back and forth on your perked up nipples.

"Lucifer...." You groaned.

"What is it? Did I miss a signature somewhere?" He made it worse by pinching it. You almost jumped. He chuckled at your reactions.

He was getting more daunting lately, claiming you anywhere and anytime. It was only a matter of time until you got caught. Sometimes you felt like he wanted to get caught.

He wanted others to see just how deeply under his spell you are, how futile their efforts are to win you over from him. His superiority complex would be the death of you.

"You're more sensitive than usual today, MC." He said with his length halfway inside you. You were trembling, bent over the desk for support like this.

"It's too open...a-and the next meeting is in 30 minutes." You knew these warnings were nothing but more of a turn on.

"Hmm...what a pity. I could have gone for much longer." Lucifer palmed your ass lovingly. "But no worries, I can still provide you plenty of pleasure with the given time."

As a busy overworked man, he was a master at the art of quickies. You learnt that from hands on experience. And now as he held down your wrists above your head and thrust into your hole at an ungodly pace, you wondered what he would have done with more time.

You tried to bite down on your uniform collar to keep yourself from moaning too loud. He kissed the side of your eyes - tears had begin to leak from sheer pleasure building up inside you. "You silenced yourself without me having to tell you - how fast you learn. I'm so... proud of you."

He was done mere minutes before the door clicked open and Diavolo and Barbatos entered.

"Ah early today as well? I'm glad I can atleast rely on you both to be punctual." Diavolo laughed blissfully unaware that Lucifer fucked you on his very chair. Lucifer nodded while squeezing your thigh under the table.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me Lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader

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dilatorywriting · 8 months

Note

Oh, 4k? Hold up then, looks like you dropped this 👑👑👑

CONGRATS TO YOU, ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS HERE!! If I could partake in the event, I'd love something with Riddle and prompt 17; love my short red angry king and alice in wonderland in its entirety tbh. If the Reader could be a bit of a rule breaker too and have known Riddle since childhood that'd be awesome as well. Again tho CONGRATULATIONS!! HOPE NOTHING BUT THE GOOD STUFF FOR YOU!

Gender Neutral Reader x Riddle Rosehearts Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt 17: "I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You were annoying.

At least, that was the kindest way his mother described it. And Riddle would have to agree. Always hanging over his shoulder like some overeager parrot and rattling off nonsense into his ear just as loudly. He was hardly allowed out to the park—mother said his studies were far too important, and even as a child Riddle certainly agreed. Mostly, at least. Enough to never argue—but when he did get time to sit out in the sun under the shade of the grand, painted trees, you were always there.

A bother, a nuisance. Sticky fingered with the remnants of swiped tarts and chattering on, and on, and on.

“I tried to follow a rabbit,” you said, rolling around in the dirt like a heathen. Weren’t you worried your parents would scold you for mucking up the smooth, blue fabric of your jacket? “But it ran too fast and I fell. Do you think I could catch it with a net, maybe?”

“Hopped,” Riddle correctly, stiffly. “Rabbits hop.”

“Well this one ran,” you argued back. “Faster than a car. Faster than a cheetah.”

“Cars are faster than cheetahs,” he said, turning to the next page of his book. “So grammatically you should have put that part second.”

You flopped back onto your stomach and pulled yourself to your knees, before scuttling behind his back and peering over his shoulder.

“How can you pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?”

He hunched up his shoulders and you dropped your chin down with a bonk. Refusing to budge.

“Some of us don’t have the attention span of goldfish,” he sneered, turning his nose up at you.

“Well, if I could only think as much as a goldfish, I wouldn’t want to waste it on that,” you snipped back. “Doing homework in a park. What are you, a robot?”

“I’m efficient!” he snapped. “Mother says I shouldn’t waste time on frivolities.” On things like you, he doesn’t say. A part of him wants to. The part that sounds like biting words and a sharp, firm voice demanding he get to bed by 7pm unless he wants to rot his brain. Another part is… is worried that you might not like that. And then you’d just get even more annoying.

You reached around and snagged the textbook out of his hands with an audible ‘yoink!’ and immediately ran off at full speed. Which is never fair! Because you’re used to climbing up trees, and sprinting through mud, and scaling boulders like a wild beast. And Riddle is—Riddle isn’t! He would never! So it takes him an age to catch up to you. By the time he does, he’s huffing, and puffing, and as red as his hair.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped, livid. “Ever again!”

“Alright,” you shrugged, a loose grin on your mouth as you returned your pilfered treasure. You’ve barely even broken a sweat. “I won’t bother you during homework, Riddle.”

Which is… That’s certainly what he wanted Of course it was. But it made something in his stomach drop nonetheless. Probably because you’d just find new ways to be irritating. Yes. That’s certainly why.

The first time he felt it was on his twelfth birthday.

He’d tried so hard. And he’d done so well. His exams had all come back with perfect scores, his projects and papers immaculately graded. He’d been going to bed on time every night, combing his hair exactly how his mother liked, even folding his clothes into perfectly pressed little squares. She’d seen it in one of her cleanliness magazines and had lamented how nice the style looked for something so tedious. But Riddle had learned. And now his closet looked as tidy as a militia.

“Can I go? Trey’s whole family will be there. And it’s just dinner. Fully monitored!” he reassured, fighting the urge to twist his hands behind his back. “Please?”

“Of course not,” his mother droned, not even looking up from her laptop. “You’ve been doing well, but we don’t want you slipping up, now do we?”

“But—” he started, and her eyes cut up to him like daggers. A warning. “…of course, mother.”

“Good boy,” she smiled, with that smile that was never really a smile. “Now go up to your room. You can have an extra half hour of free time today,” she said, like it was something worth celebrating. “For my special birthday boy.”

Riddle had sat in his bed wishing he’d never known what a birthday was at all. And then there was a tapping at his window.

He opened it in shock, to see you hanging off the edge like a particularly determined cockroach. Which was—! No! It wasn’t safe! And you were going to get him in trouble, and—

But instead of opening that stupid, fat mouth of yours and letting of your siren call of a laugh—summoning every sensible adult in a five-mile radius to come checking for delinquents—you simply swung around a bit to reach back into your jacket pocket. Riddle almost lurched forward when he saw your fingers scrabble a bit along the ledge. Ready to fall. But then you righted yourself and gently deposited a little, paper-wrapped parcel atop of the smooth surface.

And then you shot him a wink and disappeared from view, no doubt scuttling back down the siding like the demon you were.

He approached it hesitantly, like one would an active bomb. He carefully peeled back the sticky tape and smoothed out the edges of the sloppily wrapped package. Inside was a small, round strawberry tart. Freshly baked, by the smell of it. And the waft of warm, soft steam curling up from the flaking crust. With a little note tucked beside it in your chicken scratch. A lopsided smiley face doodled at the corner, beaming up at a hastily scrawled ‘Happy Birthday, Riddle!’

He took a small bite of the little, perfect treat and his eyes burned. Something in his chest gave a worrying thump-thump.

‘Oh my god,’ he thought in a panic. ‘The idiot poisoned me.’

But aside from the horribly loud ticking of his heart, nothing else seemed to go awry. He ate the rest of the tart in silence, feeling lightheaded and far too warm. He wondered if maybe his mother was right about sugar and myocardial infarction after all.

Riddle didn’t see much of you the next few years. His mother doubled down on his study times, and he wasn’t even allowed to spend time with someone as responsible as Trey anymore. Let alone the person his parent had deemed ‘a menace upon polite society.’ The next time he saw you—really saw you. Not just your hurried waves from across the street or the trace ends of your bubbling laugh from around a corner—was when the Royal Sword Academy’s students had descended upon Night Raven for the VDC.

You were chattering away with Che’nya, the pair of you looking equally as mused and ridiculous. All splashes of raucous color and uniforms so out of place that one would hardly be able tell what institution you were meant to be a part of at all. For a moment he thought you’d walk right past. It’d been years, after all. And certainly you’d moved on to bothering some new stick in the mud.

But then you saw him and your eyes lit up. His chest gave another of those terrible thump-thumps.

“Riddle!” you all but screamed. And launched yourself at him like a feral cat. “How are you! Your hair is so neat! Did you grow out your bangs? Oh! Look at your cape! So cool! Did you know that we don’t get capes? I think that’s a crime. Especially with how yours looks,” you rambled on. And despite that lingering thread of him that demanded that you must be annoying, because that’s what you were. Loud, and uncouth, and everything he’d been raised to not be. The rest of him was… Warm. And happy, to hear the familiar chatter back in his ear.

He scoffed, hoping it would cover the noise of his pounding heart. “No one in their right mind would trust you with a cape. You’d get caught on every door in existence.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” you agreed on a nod. “But surely a top hat, at least?”

And then you were back in his life like you’d never left to begin with. Or, well, like he’d never left you.

Showing up at Unbirthday Parties with the tackiest serving plates and even worse outfits. Telling him all about the rabbit you finally managed to catch, and how it does run, Riddle. I swear. Bringing him trinkets you’d found in small shops that had no practical purpose to speak of. Breaking every rule in the Queen’s Book and smacking yourself on the forehead each time he shouted a stern reminder. You even bought a little notepad to jot down his instructions. But all it ended up being good for was an ever growing pile of doodles and little, folded, origami animals that he’d find tucked all around his room like secrets.

And amidst all of this, that thumping, bumping pressure in his chest just kept getting worse.

It was a warm day, not unlike the one all those years ago where you’d plunked yourself on his shoulder and stolen the textbook right out of his hands. Now you had your own book to read, some monstrosity on analyzing ravens and writing desks, with your head precariously close to his lap but not there. He didn’t even know why that bothered him.

“This book is too complicated,” you complained. And Riddle fought the urge to point out you were holding it upside down. “Both have quills. Is that so hard to understand?”

“That makes no sense,” he argued back.

“Of course it does,” you said, perfectly pleasant and sure of yourself. “But you know everything, so you really ought to know that too.”

He snorted. “I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“What’s fifteen times thirty-four.”

“That’s not knowing. That’s just math,” he argued. “And it’s five-hundred and ten.”

“See,” you poked. “I knew you’d know it.” You rolled over to stretch out on your stomach—reaching forward to twist a long blade of grass between your fingers. “You always know what to do.”

Something in his stomach turned unpleasantly at that. Had he known what to do when he’d cowed to his mother’s commands and cut you from his life? Had he known best when he’d turned away from your warm greetings and friendly overtures to hide away behind the unsurmountable walls of expectation? Worse over, did you think that he thought all those things were… for the best? That he’d wanted to push you aside like all your cheerful banter and sweet attempts to brighten his dull, miserable life had been worth nothing.

“That’s not true,” he finally said, stilted and near whisper quiet.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.

“Of course it is,” you blinked, guileless and genuine. Smiling up at him from your place in the grass with that familiar, twisty little grin on your mouth and a brightness in your eyes that never seemed to dim.

“It’s not,” he said, a bit firmer. And his gaze flickered off away from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it at all.”

Riddle wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Silence, maybe. The horrible, awkward, biting sort that ate away at his soul like a rat gnawing through his bones. Maybe you’d laugh at him, in that bubbling, carefree way of yours, and tell him that you thought one of those rules of his was never to lie on a Thursday afternoon. That would hurt worse than the silence, he thought.

But instead you just rolled back over with a flick of your wrist, like you were gossiping about the weather.

“Then love me,” you said, simple. “I love you. It only seems fair.”

“…oh,” he spluttered, face lighting up crimson and warm.

You hummed, as if in agreement. But to what he wasn’t sure. You looked him over for a minute, like you were searching for something. And then you reached for his sweaty hand with your own and twined your fingers there in the grass.

“If everything always made sense, nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't,” you said, like that was supposed to make any sense at all. “And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

“What on earth are you on about?” he gaped.

You burst into delighted giggles and tucked your nose against his hip. “Silly, silly. Stop trying to analyze everything, yes? It will only make things more confusing.”

You sighed and stretched, a contented smile on your lips. You reached up to tap a finger against his nose.

“Things don’t always have to make sense. That’s what makes it fun. And, well, if you’re really that determined to be able to figure out how things are supposed to go, we can do that later, yes?”

“…Right,” he managed to eek out after a long moment. Feeling far too light and far too… too something. “Later. There will be a later.”

And as much as that would have felt like a lie all those years ago—had been a lie even—when he said it now you looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. And he couldn’t help but hope for all the tomorrows in the world.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #Riddle x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts #My Writing #Writing Prompts

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joodlepo · 2 years

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Stray Kids Reactions / To Squirting (18+)

Summary / After an intense fucking session, Stray Kids' members are left in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. However, each member is left with their own unique reaction to seeing you squirt for the first time!

A/N / Hello~! I'm very excited to say that I'm officially taking requests right now, so if you want to request something from me, feel free. I'm not a professional writer or anything, but I can try my best! Please make sure to read my requests guidelines first before requesting! Thank you!

Pairings / (Top) Every Member + (F) Reader

Word Count / 11.0k

Warnings / Squirting, Spanking, Bondage, Choking, Humiliation, Fingering, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Roughness, Aftercare, Hard Domination,

Bang Chan / A series of hard smacks fell flat against your ass, each one making your flesh ripple and sting. You couldn't help but wince, the pain was almost too much to take in. Chan wasn't going easy on you; and he wanted this as bad as you did, if not more so.

Your body felt like it would burst into flames at any moment, with all that heat rushing through every inch of your skin. He didn't stop until you were sobbing out loud for him to let up, begging him silently between gasps for air to please just give you a break, before you passed out right here. The humiliation that burned inside you was even worse than the fire burning within your cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Chan said softly, once you had quieted enough to hear him over your own breathing. "But, I have to make sure my babygirl learns her place~"

His tone became more gentle when he spoke, and you knew exactly what he meant by that sentence. You whimpered quietly beneath him, while tears began to stream freely down your face. It hurt so badly...

No. You have to endure it.

You loved this man too much to ever tell him no or walk away. Even now, laying helplessly under his firm grip and heavy palm, you wouldn't dream of doing anything other than taking whatever punishment he dished out, however harsh it may be. His love for you was far greater than the pain he could inflict upon you, after all.

So, instead of crying out in despair, you simply held yourself perfectly still and endured his assault without complaint, only letting out soft whimpers of agony whenever he struck a particularly painful spot on your rear end, which seemed to happen often.

"Ahh..." You mewled softly, biting back another cry as yet another slap rang loudly off your butt cheek. "Chan, p-please—"

Chan growled lowly in response, tightening his hold around you, before pounding himself deeply into you with renewed vigor, eliciting a fresh round of cries from both of you. Trembling beneath him, you felt weak and shaky, completely unable to do anything else but hold onto the bedsheets tightly and grit your teeth together as he thrusts into you mercilessly, ignoring how wet he'd made you already.

Every thrust sent sharp bolts of pleasure coursing through your lower regions, making them throb madly and beg for release, though you refused to allow it, at the risk being punished even further.

"Shhh... babygirl." He cooed soothingly, rubbing circles along your backside where he'd hit you most harshly. " It'll be okay soon... Just hang in there a bit longer, alright?"

The thought of enduring more punishment filled your mind, but you forced yourself to nod anyways. You weren't about to disappoint him either way.

As always, Chan's words proved true within moments. He began to slow down, giving you time to catch your breath between each thrust. After several long seconds, he began to move again, slowly at first, then faster and harder as the passion built inside you. Soon enough, he picked up speed dramatically, slamming into you roughly over and over until you cried out incoherently, shaking uncontrollably underneath him.

Each deep plunge left you feeling raw and exposed, causing an intense wave of sensation to wash over your entire body as he plundered you relentlessly, leaving nothing untouched save your poor, abused bottom.

"Ahh! Fuck... I-I can't take anymore!" You gasped, writhing wildly beneath him.

Chan swiftly continued to ignore you, pounding into you forcefully regardless, driving you closer and closer towards climax. With a gasp, you came undone, screaming wordlessly into the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you, sending you spiraling deeper into oblivion with each passing second. Panting and trembling, you tried desperately to get some semblance of composure, but found that impossible given the intensity of your orgasm.

All sense fled from you as the blissful euphoria consumed you, leaving only your core pulsating with unending desire, yearning to feel Chan's touch once more. However, one single action stopped him dead in his tracks.

Your eyes shot open wide in surprise as you started to squirt all over his cock, drenching him with your juices. Your legs quivered violently beneath you, buckling slightly as you trembled and shuddered with pleasure. At last, Chan slowed his pace considerably, allowing you to come down from your high slowly. When he finally pulled free of you, you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress, panting heavily and staring blankly ahead.

For a good minute, neither one of you moved. Chan was in complete shock, his jaw hanging slack and his hand frozen halfway toward your ass. On the other side, you were utterly mortified. Not because of the fact that you just orgasmed like a slutty little whore, but rather, the fact that you had done so right in front of him.

The very thought of him seeing your naked body sprawled out across his bed, glistening with your arousal, turned you beet red, despite everything.

"Woah... what happened? Are you alright?" He asked nervously, moving forward gingerly to check on you.

You nodded shyly, blushing furiously. "I'm fine..."

Still unsure of whether he should believe you or not, Chan sat beside you and gently brushed your hair aside. "Are you sure? You uhm... squirted pretty hard there..."

"Y-Yeah, I did. I'm sorry if I had ruined the mood for us," You said apologetically, averting his gaze from him.

Chan's brow furrowed worriedly, and he leaned down to give you a kiss. "It's okay. That was actually kinda hot. Maybe I should start being rough more often..."

"R-Really?!" You exclaimed excitedly, tilting your head up to look at him.

A mischievous grin spread across his face, dimples appearing in his cheeks and causing you to smile bashfully in return. "Mhm. Just as long as you keep squirting for me, babygirl~"

The two of you shared another quick peck, before he began to pleasure your insides with his fingers, coaxing out several small aftershocks from your sensitive pussy.

His thumb rubbed teasing circles around your clit while his finger worked its magic, bringing you quickly back to full strength. As much as you wanted him to continue, however, he knew better than to push your limits any further tonight. Instead, he simply teased you mercilessly, prolonging the inevitable by making you wait for it.

Lee Minho / Minho's moist tongue didn't hesitate to plunge itself deep into your pussy, causing you to gasp audibly. The feeling of his lips on your clit was incredible — almost too much to bear at first. He lapped up every drop that spilled out from between your legs, then going back for more. You were so turned on by the sight of him devouring you like this; it made your insides softly melt away into pure pleasure.

His hands stroked down over your thighs as he ate you, pressing against them in a way that felt quite intimate. Your whole body tingled all over when he did this, especially where his fingers dug into your skin. It wasn't long before you began buckling under the pressure of how good everything felt. You couldn't take anymore without coming...

"Minho," You whimpered softly, "I'm gonna—"

"You better not." Minho threatened darkly, shoving two thick fingers inside you, curving them so they rubbed directly across your g-spot while still thrusting his tongue hard and fast along your throbbing clit. "Don't even think about cumming until I tell you to... or else. Got it?"

He punctuated each word with another lick, and the stimulation sent waves rippling through you, causing goose bumps to break out all over your arms and shoulders. Everything seemed far away now, except for those delicious sensations flooding through your entire being. They grew stronger until there was no stopping what happened next. A sharp gasp escapes, and suddenly your stomach lurched violently.

The room began to spin around you, making your head spin even more than it already had been. But instead of falling off the bed or passing out altogether, something else took control: your orgasmic bliss.

All of it washed over you like a wave, crashing down upon you one last time. This new sensation was close to giving you such an intense release unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Still, you did your absolute best to hold it back — knowing full well how Minho would react if you didn't, but also wanting desperately to prolong what felt like the most amazing thing imaginable.

"Don't stop!" You cry out loudly, grabbing onto Minho's hair tightly as he continues eating you out rather greedily. "Fuck! Don't stop, don't fucking stop, please just keep going... I can't take no more..."

"Needy little bitch," He growls, continuing to lap up every bit of cum that spills from within you. You're panting heavily, trying desperately not to lose consciousness. "Although, hearing you beg me to do things is kinda hot~"

Minho pulls his mouth away, licking his lips slowly.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin on his face, which only makes your heart skip several beats in response. No doubt, he knew exactly how sexy he looked right now, looking all smug and satisfied after pleasuring you so thoroughly. Then, without warning, he grabs you roughly by the hips and flips you over. You squeak loudly, but only because of the suddenness of it all, otherwise you wouldn't have cared about being manhandled.

As soon as you lay face down on the sheets, Minho sits back up, lifting both your legs high above your head. Before you can protest, he takes advantage of this position and enters, pushing himself deeper each time. With your lower half raised in the air, there isn't anywhere for you to go except forward. And once again, you feel completely powerless to resist. You're held firmly in place as Minho begins pounding you mercilessly, his cock sliding easily and deeply within you.

There's nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wants, and you know it.

Suddenly, you felt your own mind going blank. There's nothing but pleasure. Nothing but Minho. As he pounds into you harder and faster, your body begins to shake uncontrollably. You squeeze tight around his shaft, trying to pull him even further inside you. Every part of you feels hypersensitive, like your nerves are firing off signals at random. Even breathing becomes difficult.

Out of nowhere, you feel a intense surge of juices burst out from between your legs, coating Minho's cock. You gasp aloud, surprised at yourself, but you don't care. Liquid drips down onto your inner thighs, pooling around your knees. Your eyes roll back into your head, and you start moaning louder and louder, unable to help it.

Everything around you seems distant, fading quickly away.

Your whole world is reduced to Minho's cock plunging relentlessly inside you, filling you entirely. Over and over again, he buries himself deep inside you, taking all of your essence and leaving none behind. It's almost painful, feeling every inch of him stretching you wide open. Yet somehow, that pain is turned to pure ecstasy.

All too suddenly, Minho stops, pulling his dick out of you with a loud pop. You let out a disappointed moan, reaching blindly toward him. A second later, though, you hear him laugh.

"Damn," He says playfully, "Look at all the juice you made for me~!"

His words bring you back to reality. Forcing your eyelids open, you look down between your legs. Sure enough, a large puddle of clear liquid has formed underneath you, covering folds of your skin in sticky strands of fluid. You reach down to touch it, then immediately recoil when you realize what you've done.

"Shit," You say out loud, wiping the mess off your hand onto the sheet beneath you. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? This?" Minho asks, sounding amused. "You should feel proud. That stuff was pretty much the sexiest thing I think I've seen yet."

"Sexy?" You ask incredulously, glancing up at him. "Are you serious? We were just—"

Before you can finish your sentence, Minho leans down and kisses you hard on the lips. His tongue slips past your parted lips, exploring your mouth eagerly. You whimper softly, still shocked by how quickly everything happened. But before long, you find yourself kissing him back, letting him lead the way. His hands move up your sides, cupping your breasts possessively. They bounce slightly as he squeezes them, causing you to squeal lightly.

"Just what? Just started having sex?" Minho teases, leaning back up and smirking. "That doesn't count."

"Shut up," You reply with an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes. You glance down at the mess you made, noticing for the first time how wet your thighs actually are. The bedsheets were soaked through, and there's no denying it; you came quite a bit during those last few minutes. Not that you minded, of course.

Seo Changbin / Changbin's hand gently wrapped around your throat, carful to not hurt you. You whimpered and squirmed as he leaned in closer so his lips could kiss yours softly on the neck. He slowly ran a finger along your jawline down, and towards your earlobe, where it would rest for just an instant, before sliding back up again. His breath was hot against your skin, and you shivered from head-to-toe with anticipation of what else he had planned.

Your hands were free now that they weren't holding onto him anymore, but Changbin didn't seem inclined to let go yet. Instead, he began tracing lines all over your body; starting at your collarbone then moving upwards until his fingers found their way under your shirt. The moment he touched bare flesh, you gasped out loud and pulled away slightly - only to have him grip even tighter around your waist, preventing any escape.

"I won't be gentle," He whispered into your ear, sending another wave of goosebumps through every inch of your body. "You're mine now."

He slid both hands up underneath your bra, cupping each breast carefully while keeping one hand firmly clamped around your stomach. Your breathing grew heavier when his thumb grazed across your nipple and sent tingling sensations throughout your entire chest.

With no other option available right now, you simply nodded silently and closed your eyes tight as if hoping this whole ordeal would never end... And fortunately, it seemed like things were about to get much more interesting between the two of you very shortly.

As he continued kissing you passionately, Changbin unclasped your bra completely. It fell off your shoulders and landed somewhere near the bed behind you, leaving you naked and exposed to him once again. With nothing left to hide, you decided to give in fully to whatever was going to happen next.

You opened yourself up entirely to him, giving full reign to do with you as he pleased.

His hands moved quickly after that, taking advantage of how eager you were to please by pushing your pants down further and fumbling with the buttons. After several seconds of struggling, he managed to open them enough to pull down your panties without removing them altogether. They ended up falling to either side of your ankles, allowing him easy access to your pussy.

The second his tongue made contact with your folds, you came almost instantly. A long moan escaped your mouth as pleasure coursed through every single part of your body; causing your hips to buck wildly beneath him. He responded immediately, lapping up everything he could find inside your cunt, making sure there wasn't a drop of cum or liquid left anywhere.

When he finally lifted his face up from between your legs, you couldn't help but stare at him lustfully, waiting eagerly for more.

"Mm..." Changbin hummed happily, clearly impressed by his own work. "That's quite some lubrication I've got here."

"Don't blame me for finishing too soon," You mumbled, still panting heavily. "You're the one who's worked me up so badly."

"And look how well it paid off!" Changbin chuckled, reaching forward to grab your ass cheek and pulling you close. "Now come on, show me what else you can do."

Before you knew it, he had flipped you over onto your back and was hovering above you, smirking smugly as he watched you wiggle your butt around. Even though his cock felt huge compared to the rest of him, it fit perfectly within your slick entrance; stretching you wide and filling every last bit of space.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed out, staring up at him as his dick slowly sank deeper into your wet hole. "So good..."

A low groan slipped past his lips as he pressed himself all the way inside of you. There was absolutely zero resistance whatsoever, which allowed him to slide in easily despite its girthiness. As expected, it caused your inner walls to squeeze tightly around him, drawing out a soft gasp from his throat.

You looked down between your thighs, watching Changbin's shaft disappear into your depths. Every time his thick length hit bottom, a new wave of pleasure rushed through your core, forcing you to bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. The sight of his cock disappearing deep into you was incredibly sexy, especially considering how large his dick was.

It took less than thirty seconds for him to start fucking you. Slowly at first, he withdrew halfway only to push back in harder. Soon enough, he was pounding you relentlessly, slamming his hips into yours forcefully while squeezing your tits roughly. You moaned loudly from the roughness of his touch, gasping whenever he grabbed your breasts too harshly. But the pain only added to the thrill, helping you to forget just how big he actually was.

The bed shook violently beneath you, knocking the pillows off the headboard repeatedly as he fucked you faster and faster. His balls slapped against your lower back with each thrust, smacking your skin so hard that you thought it might leave bruises. Not that it mattered much since you'd already been marked by him many times before.

But even though his size was intimidating, Changbin kept up an incredible pace. He pounded your insides mercilessly until you cried out from the overwhelming amount of sensation flooding your body. Sweat dripped freely down his forehead, mingling with your own glistening sheen. Yet he didn't slow down for anything, not even when you begged him to stop.

Instead, he merely slowed slightly, slowing down just enough to make sure you wouldn't pass out.

"Ahh...Changbin..." You whimpered breathlessly, clutching onto the sheets beside you as he began moving again. "I'm gonna... can't take anymore—"

A sudden sharp jolt shot straight through your pelvis, followed by another and yet another. Your entire body tensed up from the intense bursts of pleasure shooting through you, sending ripples throughout your stomach and making you writhe uncontrollably. Squirts of warm fluid coated your thighs as you squealed like a little girl, moaning louder and higher pitched than ever before.

Changbin didn't stop there however, continuing to slam his throbbing cock deep inside of you. Each powerful thrust sent shockwaves radiating outward from your center, making it impossible to keep quiet no matter how loud you tried. The strings of the mattress snapped under the force of his thrusts, leaving them hanging limply from their posts.

Soon enough, the two of you collapsed atop the bed together, both completely spent. You lay there, unable to move as sweat poured down your naked chest and pooled between your thighs.

"Hahaha...oh my god..." You laughed weakly, trying to catch your breath. "How are we going to clean this mess?"

"We'll worry about that later," Changbin murmured sleepily, resting his hand on top of your thigh. "But... I wasn't expecting you to squirt like that."

"H-Huh?" You gasped, looking down between your legs.

Sure enough, a small puddle of cum rested right below where his dick disappeared inside of you. It was mostly clear, but a few stray strands of white mixed in. And judging by the fact that most of it was dripping down onto the blankets underneath you, it seemed like you were leaking more than usual.

"Wow..." You smiled shyly, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze. "Didn't know you could get me off so fast."

"Well, if you want more..." Changbin trailed off suggestively, leaning down and kissing your shoulder gently. "Just say the word."

Hwang Hyunjin / You couldn't stop yourself from gagging around Hyunjin's thick fingers, as they roughly caressed the inside of your throat. He giggled at how pathetic a sight it was, and began to squeeze harder on each pass until you were practically choking in his hand. You had no choice but to swallow hard or risk losing consciousness completely. It felt like he'd be able to do that with ease if he wanted too... which only made him laugh more.

"Such a good little slut," Hyunjin praised, swirling the tip of his digits around your tongue before pushing them back down into your mouth again. "Suck them, now."

The roughness of his hands against your skin sent shivers up and down your spine; not because of fear, but excitement for what would come next. You sucked hungrily on one finger after another, eager to please him.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you took every inch of his long, slender digit deep within your wet mouth – moaning softly when it hit the very back of your throat. His other hand went between your legs once more, gently stroking your pussy through the fabric of your skirt while making sure you didn't miss out on any action either.

The way he kept teasing your clit without ever touching it directly made all sorts of delicious tingles shoot straight up your body.

Hyunjin leaned closer over you then, so close that his breath tickling your earlobe made you squirm in anticipation. "Mmhmm..." He murmured, licking along its rim slowly. "... I think you're ready for my cock, aren't you?"

His words set off an intense rush of lust within you, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting right to your core. A whimper escaped your lips as you nodded vigorously, unable to speak past the tight grip his fingers held onto your throat.

He chuckled lightly at this response, running his free hand up your neck and tilting your head towards him. Without hesitation, he pressed his open mouth against yours – kissing you passionately as he slipped two fingers inside of your dripping pussy. You moaned deeply into his mouth as he continued thrusting both of his slick digits deeper and deeper inside of you, filling you up until there wasn't much room left.

All thoughts about keeping quiet disappeared under the sheer ecstasy caused by his ministrations, leaving you panting heavily beneath him.

"That's it, slut... take those fingers like a good girl." Hyunjin cooed, nibbling playfully on your lower lip. "I bet you want me to fuck you really bad, don't you? To fill your pretty little pussy full of my hot cum, hmm~?"

"I-I— Mmph!" You mewled against his mouth, struggling to form coherent words due to how turned on you were becoming.

Hyunjin smiled darkly down at you, still fingering your soaking pussy. The heat emanating from his touch made you shudder uncontrollably, desperate for something else to happen soon.

There was nothing better than being taken advantage of, especially when the person doing it knew exactly what they were doing. The idea that he could make you feel this good just by playing with your cunt made you quiver, knowing he must have some sort of special technique to go along with his impressive size. That thought alone almost pushed you over the edge already, but you managed to hold back somehow. For now, anyways...

With a light groan of satisfaction, Hyunjin pulled away from your kiss and moved his face back to yours – smirking lewdly at your flushed expression. "So cute... I love watching you get fucked, little thing."

"Hngh..." You panted, trying your hardest not to moan.

A playful smirk curled across his lips. "Do you want me to finish you off first? Or should we move things along?"

Your breathing quickened as he slid his fingers out of your soaked pussy, making you whine in protest. Your thighs clenched tightly together, squeezing his digits in a futile attempt to keep them trapped within your folds. Even though you weren't getting anything more, it hurt having them removed – reminding you of the fact that you'd been denied for far too long.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, forcing him to lay flat atop you.

"Oh~?" Hyunjin breathed, staring down at you with wide eyes. "Did you finally decide to let me fuck you properly?"

"Yes, please," You whispered fervently, meeting his gaze with hungry eyes.It only took a few seconds for him to position himself above you – letting you stare down at his huge shaft tentatively.

It looked even bigger up close, causing you to bite your bottom lip nervously. Before you had time to second guess yourself, he gripped his thick length firmly between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle tug. As expected, his dick sprang upright, throbbing eagerly against his stomach.

With a soft grunt, Hyunjin positioned himself further down your torso, resting his weight upon your chest. He stared down at you expectantly, waiting for your permission to enter you fully.

"Do it," You replied simply, gripping his sides tighter.

"Hehe~! Well, if you insist..." Hyunjin said with a chuckle before pushing forwards, sinking half of his cock inside your warm hole. The feeling of him stretching your insides made you gasp, clenching around his girth instinctively.

His tip rubbed directly against your deepest parts, eliciting another low cry from your lips. The sudden sensation made you writhe beneath him, moaning softly as you felt him start sliding deeper. Each inch filled you up a bit more, until his entire length sunk deep inside of you. It stretched you out painfully, burning as he sank deeper and deeper inside of you.

After several minutes spent taking his massive member all the way in, Hyunjin paused – allowing you to adjust to his size.

You moaned in contentment once you got used to his thickness, pressing your cheek against his muscular shoulder as he began slowly pumping his hips. His slow pace was enough to drive you crazy, the friction of his pelvis rubbing against yours driving you wild. Every time he thrust upwards into your depths, you squeezed tight around him, relishing every single moment of pleasure radiating through your body.

"Mm..." Hyunjin hummed appreciatively, leaning down to nuzzle your ear affectionately, while continuing his rhythmic fucking. "It's pretty warm in here, isn't it?"

"Yeah," You gasped, tilting your head to meet his mouth hungrily. "I like it."

His lips met yours in an eager embrace, both your tongues tangling together in heated passion. A shiver ran down your spine, sending goosebumps rushing over your skin. When you broke apart from each other, your breath came out raggedly, leaving you panting heavily.

"Good. Because I'm going to be here for awhile." Hyunjin chuckled throatily. "Don't worry; I'll take my sweet time filling you up~"

You gulp audibly, biting your lip hard as you watch him continue to slide his cock in and out of your dripping sex. You couldn't help but whimper when he hit your deepest parts, making your inner walls clench tightly around his invading shaft. The pressure only made him push harder, pounding his length into you relentlessly.

Every inch of his thick meat forced its way inside of you, spreading you open so much that it almost hurt. Despite how good it felt, it still left you gasping for air. You could feel your slickness coating his shaft as he plunged repeatedly inside of you, filling you up completely. Each plunge made you squeeze tighter around him, unable to stop yourself from crying out loudly.

"Hyunjin!" You cried out, struggling beneath him. "Please, make me cum already..."

"What do you think this is, huh?" Hyunjin asked teasingly, grabbing your ass roughly by the cheeks. "This is where I get to have my fun. So, don't go thinking that just because you're begging, I'm gonna give you what you want... or else you might find yourself regretful later on~"

"Ahh-!" You groaned, digging your nails into his back.

He smirked down at you, chuckling darkly as he continued to pound away. "No matter what you say or beg for...this is mine now."

As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled free from you, pulling your legs towards him. Without warning, Hyunjin pushed forwards again, burying his entire length inside of you without missing a beat. Your inner muscles clenched tightly around him, milking his thick length as he pounded into you.

His hands grabbed onto your thighs, holding them tightly as his cock pistoned inside of you. Your pussy burned fiercely, leaking juices freely down your thigh as his large cock slid in and out of you. The heat intensified whenever he hit your deepest parts, forcing you to cling to him desperately. He kept up his relentless rhythm, plunging into you over and over again, not stopping no matter how much you begged him.

Something new started to build up within you, growing stronger and hotter with every passing minute. Just as you thought you were about ready to explode, Hyunjin slammed his hips forward one final time. His balls slapped against your clit, sending jolts of electricity shooting straight to your core.

Warm juices squirt between your folds as you climaxed on his cock, spasming wildly underneath him.

"Fuck, yes! Hyunjin, oh fuck! You feel so fucking good!" You cried out as the orgasm rolled through you, filling your entire body with light. "Oh, fuck!"

"That's right, scream for me," Hyunjin growled hotly, slamming himself into you over and over again. The combination of his rough movements and your sensitive clit sent you spiralling into yet another mind-melting climax.

Hot waves of pleasure washed through you, tightening your inner muscles around his shaft. With a loud cry, you shattered under him, coming undone entirely. Your eyes closed, your jaw slackened and your voice went hoarse, letting out high pitched whimpers of blissful ecstasy.

Han Jisung / Jisung thrusted into your mouth with such force that you felt the tip of his dick hit the back wall. You were so turned on, and it was only getting worse as he pushed deeper inside until finally all six inches had disappeared down your throat. He held onto both sides of your head tightly while thrusting in and out rapidly like a jackhammer, making sure to keep most of him deep within your mouth.

The vibrations from his hips against yours sent shivers up and down your spine, but even more than that, Jisung's moans made every nerve ending in your body come alive at once. It took everything for you not to cum right there; however, Jisung still wasn't done yet. He pulled almost half way out before pushing himself back in again and repeating this process over and over without any mercy or pause. His cock swelled bigger by the second as precum oozed from its tip each time it slid past your lips.

Saliva dripped down his shaft too, which further added to the sensation of having something thick and hard sliding between them. Your tongue flicked along the underside of Jisung's dick, trying to get rid of some excess saliva coating his length, and then lapped around his balls when they rolled slightly forward into view

You could feel yourself growing dizzy due to lack of oxygen, but you didn't want to stop sucking just yet. The erotic sight of Jisung fucking your face drove you wilder than anything else ever did. He looked like a beast, holding you down against the bed while using you as his personal fuck toy. This was exactly what you wanted—to be used and degraded in front of someone who wouldn't judge you. Someone you knew would never leave you behind...

"Mmm, I love the way you suck on my cock, my sexy little slut," Jisung growled lowly, causing your eyes to widen. "I bet you could do this all day."

His words caused an electric jolt through your entire being, sending tingles shooting throughout your nerves. You'd been craving this kind of attention since forever ago, and now that it was here, you couldn't help but let loose.

Your hands grabbed hold of Jisung's thighs as best you could, squeezing tight enough to cause bruises if necessary. Your cheeks hollowed out as much as possible, allowing his girth to slide effortlessly down your throat, and then you began bobbing your head faster. If anyone saw you right now, they might have thought you were a professional porn star giving one hell of a blow job. But no, this was all real life. All these sensations were happening to you. And you loved it.

Tears stung your eyes from how good it felt, especially knowing that Jisung was enjoying every single moment of it. Even though his cock grew harder and thicker with each passing minute, you continued to work your magic. Every inch of him was coated in a layer of spit and drool, which also helped lubricate things nicely.

As soon as he reached his limit, he pulled away abruptly from your lips. Instantly, you cough and choke on whatever air you managed to catch in your lungs, which resulted in another loud moan escaping your parted lips.

Jisung smirked smugly down at you, wiping a hand across you chin to clean off some of the mess. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You nodded quickly, swallowing down the last bits of his precum still stuck to your mouth. "Y-Yeah, mmfh, mnph... I mean, no! I'm fine, really!"

The look of concern on his face instantly melted away when he realized you weren't injured. Instead, his smirk returned in full force, followed shortly after by his hungry gaze.

"You're pretty tough," Jisung said, running his fingers through your hair affectionately. "It's nice to know you can take me rough sometimes."

A blush spread across your cheeks as you stared back up at him, unable to say anything. The compliment made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but at the same time, it only fueled your desire. You craved more abuse. More pleasure. A lot more.

Jisung leaned closer to whisper directly into your ear. "Think you can keep going, baby? Or are you ready to give up already?"

With that question hanging in the air, you struggled to form coherent thoughts. You didn't want to disappoint him, but you also needed to breathe. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was staring down at you intently, waiting patiently for your answer. You glanced over to see his dick still twitching, ready for more pleasure. That alone gave you the motivation you needed to continue. Slowly, you pushed yourself upward until your chest rested on top of Jisung's thigh. With shaky breaths, you sucked in a few deep gulps of fresh air before looking back at him.

"Uhm..." You whispered breathlessly. "N-No, I don't think I'll give up just yet."

Jisung smiled proudly at your response, which caused a rush of warmth to flood your body. It was so easy to fall under his spell. To surrender everything to him. As long as he was there to protect you, nothing else mattered.

He moved his hips upwards again, letting the tip of his penis rub against the roof of your mouth once more. His eyes narrowed as he watched you carefully, waiting to make sure you were alright. After taking several slow breaths, you finally relaxed and resumed your blowjob.

This time, you focused solely on the task at hand; getting his dick as wet and slippery as possible. Then, without any hesitation or shame, you slid your lips up and down the length of him. Just thinking about how hard it had been to get him to come made your heart ache, and you immediately regretted not doing it sooner. Now that you knew what to expect, however, you were determined to bring him as close to orgasm as humanly possible.

Jisung moaned deeply as you did exactly that, sucking on the underside of his shaft while stroking him with both hands. He gripped onto your shoulders tightly as you went deeper than ever before, eliciting a soft grunt from his throat. Your saliva combined with the precum created a thin film coating his cock, making it easier to glide along its surface.

After a few minutes passed like that, Jisung lifted himself off of your head, causing you to gasp loudly. "Hm? What's wrong, Jisung?"

His breathing was ragged as he spoke, forcing you to lean forward slightly to hear him properly. "Bend over..."

Without hesitating, you complied. You bent down further, resting your elbows on either side of the bed, leaving your ass sticking straight up in the air. Jisung wasted no time climbing between your legs and positioning himself behind you. One of his hands grabbed hold of your waist, holding you steady while the other one traced circles around your clit.

Your stomach clenched tight at the sensation, sending waves of heat rushing through your lower half. You bit down on your lip nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight quiver in your voice. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with pleasuring you instead.

Jisung ran his thumb gently across your swollen bud, rubbing it firmly enough to elicit a small whimper from you. Once he felt comfortable, he began sliding his digit in and out of you, slowly increasing the tempo. Soon, your pussy started dripping wetter and wetter, soaking his fingers completely.

Before long, Jisung added two digits to his foreplay, stretching you open wide while simultaneously stimulating every inch of your sensitive flesh. The pressure built steadily, turning your insides into molten lava and your brain into mush. You couldn't help but moan loudly, squirming underneath his touch even though you tried your best to remain calm and collected.

Jisung chuckled softly as he continued playing with your pussy, occasionally tracing a finger near your ass to tease you. Each time he did, you tensed up, unsure if this would be another instance where he'd use his tongue on you. However, each time he pulled away quickly, giving you false hope that maybe, just maybe...

"Oh God!" You cried out sharply as an intense wave of pleasure hit you all at once, causing your knees to buckle.

The sudden gush of clear fluid splattered against Jisung's face, drenching his handsome features in a mixture of warm cum and sweat. It wasn't until after the second spurt that he realized what had happened, pulling back abruptly to wipe it off of his cheek. His eyes widened when he noticed the mess he'd made, glancing up at you sheepishly. You blushed brightly, averting your gaze for fear of seeing disappointment in those beautiful brown orbs.

"Oh wow..." He breathed out heavily, staring at you curiously. "That's something you don't see everyday."

You giggled weakly, nodding in agreement. "No kidding..."

Lee Felix / Your wrists were tied tightly together as you sat patiently in a nearby chair. Large amounts of embarrassment washed over you as Felix looked at the ropes around your wrists with an amused smile on his freckled face. You tried not to blush too hard in front of him, but it was difficult when he stood there naked from the waist up while looking down at you like that. He had just finished showering before coming back out here, so he wasn't wearing anything except for some dark blue boxer briefs which barely covered most of his figure.

The material clung tightly to them and showed off every muscle beneath. His cock poked through one leg hole and hung low between his legs; thick and long enough to make your mouth water even though you'd already tasted what lay underneath those boxers once before. It would be easy to look away if this were anyone else's dick, but seeing how excited Felix got whenever you touched yourself made it impossible not to stare at his bulge all day.

"Sorry. Did I make you wait long?" He asked casually after a moment spent admiring your bound form. "Not that I care much, since my hands are free~"

He walked towards you slowly, never breaking eye contact as he did so. Your heart raced and your breath came short each time he approached until finally he stopped right behind where you sat. With no hesitation whatsoever, he grabbed hold of the rope binding both your arms to the armrests and pulled sharply upwards, causing your torso to jerk backwards into his chest. He let go immediately and stepped back again, giving himself plenty of space to admire your flushed cheeks and pouting lips.

"But, you're happy see me, right?" He asked teasingly, making you shiver slightly despite the warmth of his skin against yours.

"Y-Yeah," You mumbled shyly, unable to meet his gaze.

Felix chuckled softly. "I knew it."

His hand moved forward again then, sliding under your chin and tilting your head upward to force you to look directly at him. That only served to further embarrass you because now he could get a good view down your shirt, revealing more than enough cleavage to drive any man crazy. Even Felix seemed taken aback by it, taking a few moments to study your breasts before returning his eyes to your own.

You gulped audibly.

"Is something wrong? Are these small?" He teased gently, cupping one breast in either palm and squeezing lightly. A shudder ran through you as he squeezed harder, feeling the softness of your flesh through the fabric. "Or is it their color that makes you flinch?"

It took everything you had to keep yourself from squirming, especially when he slid his hand under the edge of your bra cup and rubbed your nipple through the thin cotton. All thoughts of embarrassment fled as he pinched your sensitive bud, sending electric jolts through your entire body. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, trying desperately to ignore how turned on you felt. But it was proving very difficult, especially considering how close he kept getting to touching you...

"Hmhm..." Felix hummed thoughtfully, leaning closer still. "What are you thinking about, hmm?"

You couldn't help blushing hotly at the sound of his voice. And yet, somehow you managed to reply without stumbling over your words or stammering.

"...Well, um.." You cleared your throat nervously, staring intently at his face. "I'm imagining...how it feels to have you inside me."

The corners of Felix' lips quirked up. "...Oh really?"

You nodded quickly, biting your lower lip as his fingers continued to rub circles around your nipple through your shirt.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" He breathed seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline. "I sure hope so..."

You moaned loudly when his tongue slipped past your parted lips and traced its way across your cheekbone. He licked his way down your neck, leaving wet trails as he went, stopping briefly to suckle your exposed collar bone. Aroused murmurs filled the room as Felix worked his way downwards, kissing and licking everywhere he could reach. When he reached your tits, he pushed aside your bra cups and sucked greedily at your nipples, eliciting another loud moan from you.

"Mmph!"

Felix laughed quietly at your reaction, pulling away to watch your chest rise and fall with ragged breaths. Your hands were still bound together, keeping you stuck in place, but that didn't stop you from reaching out to touch him. You curled your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly and moaning as he kissed his way down your stomach. The heat of his mouth was incredible, driving you wild with need for more.

When his tongue finally found itself nestled between your thighs, you whimpered and pressed your hips forwards, desperate to feel more. Unfortunately, your hands remained tied securely above your head, leaving you completely helpless as he lapped at your slit like some kind of ravenous animal.

You cried out wordlessly as his warm tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping deep and pushing just far enough inside to tease the nerves within. His hot breath tickled your inner thigh, sending a rush of tingly sensation down below, prompting you to push your legs wider apart to give him better access.

"Nnggghhh..." You grunted weakly, struggling to keep your focus on anything other than the pleasure radiating outward from your core. "Felix... untie me, please..."

He smirked up at you, watching your face closely while his tongue continued to work magic upon your most intimate parts.

"No can do, babe." He said simply, moving his attention to your clit instead.

You gasped loudly as he circled your swollen nub with his tongue, tracing little patterns all over it. It wasn't long before you began bucking wildly beneath him, crying out incoherently as he pleasured you. Each time you did, he would take advantage of the opportunity to lick you deeper, rubbing his tongue hard against your slick folds until you came undone once again. This happened several times throughout the course of what felt like an eternity, each orgasm stronger than the last. By the end, you were practically begging him to let you cum, no matter how much it hurt.

But, Felix merely smiled up at you, continuing to lap hungrily at your pussy. He slowed his pace significantly though, letting you catch your breath after every climax before starting anew. You tried to fight back the growing desperation building inside you, wanting nothing more than to see him release too. But, it was impossible to resist the temptation of his skilled tongue.

As soon as you started to relax, he'd start to move faster, swirling his tongue around your engorged clit until you were gasping and panting, writhing uncontrollably underneath him. Even then, he wouldn't relent, pressing himself against your quivering thighs and using them to pull you even tighter against him. With each thrust of his tongue, he made it easier for you to grind your soaked mound against his face.

Finally, you gave in to your urges, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly and grinding your hips into his face. As soon as you did, Felix groaned deeply, pushing one final inch further into your needy cunt. You screamed loudly, releasing yourself fully around his eager tongue, shuddering violently as you came all over his face. Squirting your juices onto his chin, he pulled back abruptly, swallowing the sticky fluid off his mouth and smiling wickedly at you.

You panted heavily, trying desperately not to pass out from the intense wave of bliss coursing through your body.

Kim Seungmin / Seungmin chuckled softly, watching you squirm underneath him like a pathetic worm on it's back. He had your legs spread wide and gripping the sheets tightly in both hands, as he slowly fucked into you from behind, his cock sliding deep inside of every time it pushed through that tight opening.

His balls slapped against your ass each time they swung low enough to do so, making you moan with pleasure, even though you knew better than anyone how good this was going to feel when he finally let loose inside of you. Seungmin could barely contain himself anymore either; his thrusts becoming harder and faster until all at once he pulled out completely before slamming back inside again.

Your head fell forward onto the pillow as he continued to fuck into you over and over, his hips slapping against yours with each hard thrust while those thick fingers dug deeply into your flesh beneath. The bed shook under both your combined weight, causing the wooden frame to creak loudly but not loud enough for either one of you to care about right now. It wasn't long after that he grabbed hold of your waist tighter still, pulling down harshly on it whenever he felt like pushing deeper inside of you or giving you more leverage if needed.

"I have to say... I'm impressed." You mumbled quietly between moans. "You being so rough seems very rare these days..."

"You think so? That makes two of us," Seungmin replied breathlessly, pausing only briefly to look up at you. His eyes were bright red with lust, sweat glistening along his brow. Your own body was covered in a light sheen too, despite the fact that you weren't doing much moving around besides moaning and panting heavily.

Seungmin smirked slightly, shaking his head lightly as he resumed fucking you. He didn't bother saying anything else, just grunted softly and kept pumping away relentlessly. Even though you couldn't see what was happening behind you, you heard the sounds of skin smacking together and gasping breaths coming from below you, which told you exactly where he was at the moment.

Your body tensed up slightly each time he slammed home, feeling another orgasm building quickly within you. Seungmin's grip tightened further upon your waist, before loosening up entirely, allowing you to fall forwards onto the mattress without any support whatsoever. You groaned lowly, unable to keep yourself upright due to the intense sensations running through you.

He didn't seem to mind much however, continuing to pound into you forcefully as he did so. Every inch of skin rubbed together sent sparks shooting through your entire being, making you whimper helplessly as your climax began to build ever higher. Just as it seemed you would pass the point where you couldn't handle anymore, he reached up and grabbed your hair roughly by the roots, yanking upwards sharply.

The pain only served to heighten the intensity of what was happening to you, sending jolts of electricity racing throughout your nerves as his dick throbbed deep inside of you repeatedly. All at once he stopped moving altogether, burying himself fully within you as he held you firmly there with just his pelvis pressed against your own. A strangled cry escaped your lips as you came undone, your muscles tightening and clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Oh... oh god..." you moaned weakly, gasping heavily as you tried desperately to catch your breath. "Ahh!"

Seungmin grunted out a few short curses as he began to empty himself inside of you, pumping hot cum, along with several other smaller spurts. Your pussy spasmed violently around his shaft as he kept moving, milking everything he could from you until there was absolutely nothing left. When he finally withdrew, you collapsed onto the bed next to him panting heavily, letting go of the sheet to clutch handfuls of fabric instead.

It took a moment longer before you realized his stamina hadn't waned in any way and that Seungmin had just been holding back for your sake. You lifted your head off the pillow to find him looking down at you curiously. One hand slid gracefully across your back gently, tracing the curves of your spine as he watched you closely.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah," You breathed out shakily, reaching up to wipe some sweat from your brow. "I'm fine."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth briefly before he leaned down and kissed you softly, kissing each cheek and jawline carefully. The sweet sensation made your heart flutter, making it difficult to breathe properly for a brief second. After breaking apart he sat up straight and looked down at you, tilting your chin upwards so he could kiss you again.

This time he lingered, pressing his lips against yours tenderly. Each soft stroke of his tongue brought new feelings bubbling up within you, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded. Even though you should have been tired and sore, you found yourself craving more of his touch. Before you knew it you were sitting up on your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as best as you could given the circumstances.

After a minute or two he broke off again, resting his forehead against yours as he stared intently into your eyes. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled closer to you, laying his hands on top of your thighs and holding you close to him. For a moment neither one of you said anything, simply enjoying the closeness of the other person. Eventually he shifted slightly, shifting his weight so that he lay on his side facing you rather than face down.

"Ready for round two?" He murmured huskily, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

You giggled lightly, leaning in and kissing him back. "Always."

Seungmin chuckled softly as well, bringing his arm up and looping an ankle behind your knee. With little effort he flipped you onto your front, pinning your wrists above your head with his free hand and positioning himself atop you. You let out a quiet moan when he entered you once more, this time with far less hesitation. As always it felt incredible, filling every part of you and stretching you wide open.

His pace slowed down somewhat compared to last time, taking things slower as he savored the feel of being inside of you. It wasn't long after that before you started pushing against his hips, trying to encourage him to move faster. Seungmin obliged immediately, picking up speed gradually as you began to lose control over your breathing.

With a shuddering gasp you arched your spine upward, crying out loudly as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, causing you to arch your back even further and press your heels into his lower abdomen. His thrusts grew deeper, hitting all the right places at exactly the perfect angle, driving you wild with desire.

Just as your climax peaked another one struck you unexpectedly, you couldn't stop yourself from squirting liquid onto his lap. You cried out in surprise but continued bucking beneath him regardless, desperate for any kind of relief. Seungmin growled deeply, slamming home hard enough to make you bite your lip in response. Every inch of him stretched you tight and left you feeling utterly empty afterwards, which was quickly remedied by the warmth pooling between your legs.

"Woah..." You panted out raggedly, rolling your hips slowly underneath him as if testing how loose you still were.

"Right?" He agreed, stroking his fingers through your hair soothingly. "That's why I love doing this."

You hummed in agreement, staring up at the ceiling and closing your eyes tightly. The heat radiating off of his body combined with the way his chest moved against your breasts sent pleasant tingles throughout your entire frame. It didn't take long for you to start getting sleepy, unable to keep your eyes open no matter how badly you wanted to stay awake.

Yang Jeongin / Jeongin held you steadily above his face, lapping up your nethers with a wet tongue. He was so gentle, but the pleasure he gave you felt like heaven; it made every part of your body tingle and sing as if all its nerves were on fire. You arched over him, writhing in ecstasy at how good this felt – especially when Jeongin's fingers found their way onto your thighs and began to caress them softly.

They rubbed against that spot just below where they joined together, sending waves of heat through your lower tummy and making your hips jerk forward eagerly towards each stroke. His thumb traced circles around the soft skin between your legs until you could feel yourself getting ready for something else entirely, then suddenly his mouth left your folds altogether before returning there moments later.

The tip of his tongue swirled gently across your clit while two more digits pressed into your inner walls, teasingly stroking inside of you without entering fully. It sent shivers down your spine as you gasped out loud, feeling like an animal caught by a predator who wanted nothing more than to be devoured whole.

Your hands gripped handfuls of bedsheets tightly beneath you as another wave washed over you, only now it wasn't quite so much about what you'd been doing. Instead, it was purely about being taken right here and now. The sudden shift from lustful playfulness to raw carnality had you arching off the sheets even harder, moaning loudly into the pillows behind you. You writhed underneath Jeongin's skilled lips and fingers, wanting to feel everything he did to you – every single thing that made you want to come undone completely.

As he worked magic upon your pussy, your back arched higher and higher until finally, with a cry of pure bliss, you came hard against his face.

You bucked wildly atop him, unable to stop shaking or shuddering as the orgasm hit you full force. Every muscle in your entire body tensed up and trembled as Jeongin kept licking away, milking out every last drop of cum within you. When the aftershocks subsided, you collapsed backwards onto the bed beside him, panting heavily.

However, Jeongin hadn't stopped pleasuring you yet.

With one hand still gripping your thigh firmly, he reached upwards to take hold of your other leg instead. Then, using both hands, he spread open your labia wide apart once again before slipping his tongue deep inside you. You whimpered in delight at how good it felt, especially since it also meant you didn't have to move any further to enjoy himself too. All you needed to do was lie back and let him work wonders on your insides.

His talented tongue played along your g-spot slowly at first, tracing little circles around it before dipping deeper into your core. It felt wonderful having him touch you there intimately, especially since the rest of your body was already thoroughly satisfied. But as he continued moving his head rapidly against your sensitive flesh, you soon found yourself coming close to climax all over again.

"Mn..." You mewl out, holding onto his shoulders as you grind your pelvis against his face. "I need...something..."

"I know, baby," He replied, his tongue still going wild against you. "I'm gonna give it to you."

Jeongin moaned deeply as you rode his face, pushing him closer towards the edge himself. Just as you started to get near, he pulled back slightly to lick the outermost parts of your vulva clean, leaving your most tender spots untouched. This drove you mad with desire though, because it meant he knew exactly what you liked best. So when he plunged his tongue right back into you, it went straight for those same places that made you go weak at the knees.

With his tongue buried deep within your depths, Jeongin used long strokes to massage your clit as well as your G-spot simultaneously. He alternated between these motions, alternating between fast and slow. In turn, it pushed you ever closer to the brink of oblivion. However, unlike earlier, he wouldn't allow you to simply fall over the side and tumble into release. No, he would keep you hanging on the precipice, teetering on the very edge of the cliff.

Just when you thought you couldn't possibly endure anymore, he withdrew his tongue and replaced it with two fingers. They slipped inside you easily, gliding smoothly past your spasming muscles. Once he got them nice and slick, he curled his fingers inward, pressing directly against your deepest reaches. A moment later, you felt his thumb press hard against your clitoris. And as he moved his digits in tandem with the thrusting motion of his tongue, you exploded for a third time.

"Does that feel good?" Jeongin asked breathlessly, pushing his fingers deeper into your wetness.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you cried out, clutching desperately onto his shoulder blades. You weren't sure if you were speaking or screaming, but either way, it was enough to make him chuckle.

"I'll take that as a yes," He chuckled, continuing to stroke and suckle upon your sweet spot. "And, I'm guessing you want to cum again? Is that right~?"

You nodded quickly, unable to form words just then. Not with his mouth and fingers working their magic on you. He gave you no chance to respond anyway, plunging three fingers deep into your quivering folds. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your toes curl and your stomach tighten up. You could barely breathe properly, so much was happening down below. Your whole lower half seemed to be filled by a powerful tingle that threatened to send you flying off the edge.

But somehow, despite being wracked with such intense sensations, you managed to stay grounded. Because Jeongin wasn't done with you quite yet. His fingers remained lodged inside you, pumping in and out of your hot core while his tongue licked its way across your swollen bud. At this point, you were beyond ready for another mind shattering climax. One more push from him, and you'd shatter completely.

"Jeongin..." You breathed out softly, moaning his name. "Please, just fuck me. I-I want you inside me..."

He looked up at you briefly, meeting your gaze before looking back downwards. He stared intently at where his fingers had been, watching as they disappeared into your clenching hole. Soon after, he brought them back to his lips, sucking on each digit like it was the tastiest thing in existence. You groaned loudly at that, feeling your legs tremble beneath you. As you watched, Jeongin's cock began to swell even larger than before. It grew longer until it hit your inner thighs, thickening and swelling even more. When it finally burst forth, you gasped aloud.

"Oh fuck!" You squealed out loud, staring wide eyed at the massive erection now standing proudly in front of you.

It was beautiful too, jutting out from his groin and pointing upwards. Its shaft was red, pink, and purple all at once, pulsating slightly. There was an impressive amount of pre-cum oozing out of its tip, which was only further proof how turned on Jeongin really was. The sight alone caused your own arousal to spike, sending wave after wave of heat surging through your body.

Even without touching yourself, you felt incredibly sensitive, almost painfully aroused. As you gazed down at Jeongin's magnificent length, he took hold of your hips firmly, pulling you close. With one hand gripping your hip tightly, he guided his cock towards your waiting entrance. You whimpered softly, shuddering as his cockhead pressed against your tight opening. But instead of entering you, Jeongin held himself there for several moments.

He didn't move any farther, merely teasing your insides with his girthy cock.

"How bad do you want me?" Jeongin whispered huskily, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to yours. "Do you need my dick inside of you? Do you crave it...?"

"I—" You began, but you were cut off when his lips pressed against yours, kissing you deeply. For a few seconds, he continued to kiss you, stealing your breath away with every touch of his soft lips. A moment later, however, he broke apart, leaving you gasping for air.

"Answer me." Jeongin said sternly, his voice low and raspy.

"Y-Yes," You breathed out, panting heavily. "Yes, I want you inside of me!"

His smile widened as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from yours. Before you knew what was happening, Jeongin pulled you flush against his chest, holding you securely in place. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pinning you between his muscular arms. In response, you laid your hands over his broad shoulders, clinging tightly onto him. After all, you needed something to keep you steady. Something to stop you from falling to pieces. And right then, he was exactly that.

With little effort, Jeongin slid his rock hard member into your slick pussy, filling you entirely. You moaned loudly, buckling as he stretched your tender walls. He paused only long enough to give you time to adjust, before sliding his full length into you once again. Over and over, he pushed his throbbing cock inside of you until both your bodies were covered in sweat. By the end, you couldn't feel anything except Jeongin's hot flesh buried deep within you. Every inch of his length was stuffed inside your wet depths, stretching you wider than ever before.

Suddenly, he withdrew, causing you to cry out in protest. You reached for him desperately, trying to grab hold of his thick shaft. Only to find that he was already gone, having slipped free of your grip. You weren't sure why, but you felt something leak from you. The feeling made you gasp, unable to hide your surprise. However, you soon realized that you were leaking fluid everywhere. Your entire crotch area was soaked, glistening with your juices. Squirting fluids from your slit like some kind of fountain.

"You're dripping honey all over my bedsheets." Jeongin murmured, smiling at you sweetly. "Isn't that cute~?"

The sudden words caused you to freeze. "H-Honey?"

"Mhm. It's pretty amazing, isn't it? That my tongue and cock alone could make such a mess~" Jeongin chuckled quietly.

Your cheeks burned brightly as you glanced down, seeing your swollen sex leaking clear liquid onto the sheets below. Not only did it look obscene, but it also sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Jeongin must have noticed because he smirked darkly, reaching up and cupping your cheek.

"Don't feel embarrassed. I like watching you get messy." He purred, tilting your head back so he could gaze into your eyes. "Especially since this is just the beginning..."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids #bang chan smut #lee minho smut #lee felix smut #seo changbin smut #yang jeongin smut #han jisung smut #hwang hyunjin smut #kim seungmin smut

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ohcorny · 24 days

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hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?

up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.

anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.

doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.

this got really long with multiple examples

here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)

this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.

it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.

an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.

in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.

i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.

lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.

this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.

basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner

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little-diable · 5 months

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The Porcelain Killer – Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 2/?)

Chapter two, here we go! Promise there will be lots of smut (you know me), but please show some love to this chapter which has barely any smut in it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Warnings: 18+, masturbation (f), Aaron is an asshole, authority kink, university professor x student relationship,

Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2.4k words)

Profiling 101 Series Masterlist

Part One Part Three

“Excuse me, professor?” A guy had raised his hand, interrupting the professor‘s monologue, abruptly cutting it short. The professor’s dark eyes zoned in on the student, taking in his appearance for a few more seconds before he nodded his way, waiting for him to keep on talking. “How is this relevant to us? You said we’d work on active cases, not stuff that is over hundred years old?”

“You already have your answer, don’t you?” Professor Hotchner’s deep voice forced (y/n) to straighten her posture, grateful that she wasn’t his target of annoyance this morning. It had been exactly one week since their first class, since the exchange of emails that had left her fuming, torn between anger and embarrassment. But today (y/n) had decided to find her way to her usual seat, in the second row, staring the professor down at any given chance.

The guy only looked at professor Hotchner with confusion swimming in his pupils, not understanding where the professor was going with this. “Your question alone gives us enough reason as to why it is important to learn from old cases, just like our Jack the Ripper readings. Does anybody here have an idea why this case is so important for us to talk about?”

(Y/n) counted the seconds fading by, wondering if anybody would dare to answer the question, not wanting to be called out by the professor with an awfully cold demeanour. (Y/n)’s hand was slowly raised, forcing his eyes to meet her hesitant ones, pondering over her words carefully before she started to speak, “There are many reasons, but I would assume it’s also because of the big gender debate it still is focusing on. As profilers we need to keep options open, we can’t just focus on one theory without taking others into consideration, just like the possibility of Jack the Ripper actually being a woman.”

“Obviously he wasn’t a woman, he was a classical serial killer.” The guy who had asked the question had spoken up without raising his hand, once again interrupting professor Hotchner before he could give his thoughts on (y/n)’s reply. The professor turned away from her, focusing on the guy who wore a smirk on his lips, finding pride in the way he had spoken out about (y/n)’s idea.

“What is your name?” Professor Hotchner’s voice boomed through the room, forcing all other students to quiet down once again, attention drawn to the tall, brooding man like moths drawn to any source of light. He’d burn them all before they could even start to realise what was happening, falling victim to his games.

“Josh Lorey, professor.” No longer was the guy smirking, tightening his grip on his pen as he began to realise that speaking up hadn’t been his smartest move. (Y/n)’s heart picked up its beat, pounding in her chest as she watched the scene unfold, unable to bite down the anticipation thumping through her veins, hoping that the professor would defend her – not that she couldn’t defend herself, yet she desperately hoped that he’d be on her side, just this once.

“If I were you, Mister Lorey, I’d be careful with my assumptions. Next time think before you speak up. Miss (y/n) has made a valid point, we can never know for sure what will expect us, theories change, just like our unsubs may change their behaviour all too suddenly. I want you to keep this in mind for this week's homework, it seems like time has once again cut our lesson short.” (Y/n) kept watching the professor for a few more moments before she started to pack her bag, eyes flickering back to his features every few seconds. She hurried down the steps, towards Aaron Hotchner before he could disappear down the hallway.

“Professor?” His eyes met hers, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin, making her breath hitch in her chest as if an icy wind was teasing her limbs, freezing her from inside out. “I didn’t get any feedback on my homework, will we still get some in the upcoming days?”

Her voice wavered, trembling with every syllable rolling off her tongue. The way he stared her down forced (y/n) to tighten her grip on her bag, fighting against the urge to take a step away from him.

“I don’t give feedback on homework that isn’t outstandingly good. Yours was basic at best. Do better next time if you are craving validation this desperately. And take some more time before turning it in this early, careless mistakes don’t look good on you, miss (y/n). Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

……

“Okay wait,” a chuckle left Mandy, taking another sip of her drink. “So, you called him an asshole to his face? You apologised for it, but he’s still an asshole to you? And this is the same guy you’ve been horny for since year one?”

A tipsy laugh left the two girls sitting in front of (y/n), sharing knowing glances as they watched (y/n)’s expressions change, hiding her face in her hands with a sigh leaving her. The two kept staring at her, wondering what to make out of the mess (y/n) now found herself stuck in, desperately trying to drown her embarrassment in her fourth drink of that very evening.

“I don’t even know what to do anymore, I can’t let this rest, not before he understands that I’m not just some stupid, clueless girl.” Vivian’s hand found (y/n)’s, tightly squeezing it before she let go once again, hoping to ease some of her friend's pain.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, just keep on proving your intelligence in class, then he simply won’t be able to treat you like this!” Neither (y/n) nor her friends seemed to notice the group sitting close to them, neither of them noticed the tall man staring at (y/n) from afar, watching her ramble on – oblivious to her surroundings.

Aaron Hotchner had joined his BAU family for a few rounds of drinks, wanting to catch up since he hadn’t joined them on their last cases, staying behind to teach his classes, only supporting them digitally. And yet, even though he wanted to pay attention to the stories his colleagues told him, he couldn’t help but study (y/n).

He could still remember the first time he had seen her, when he had given his first talk at the university. She had been sitting in the second row, scribbling down every word that had left him, as if this was some lifesaving ritual she needed to follow. Back then Aaron had cursed himself for being interested in a student, unable to stop himself from studying her, the gorgeous features he had been thinking of every now and then since that very morning.

But now, as she was his student, he desperately needed to keep his distance, giving into the annoyance thumping through his veins whenever he crossed paths with her, hoping that his annoyance would distract his mind from the schoolboy crush he fostered on her.

“One last round?” Derek patted Aaron’s shoulder, ripping the man out of his thoughts, following his colleague to the bar. He tried to keep his distance, tried to not pay any attention to the conversation he now could pick up on all too clearly. But the second he heard them speaking his name, he couldn’t help but listen in, giving into the frown tugging on his features once again.

“Honestly this Hotchner guy sounds like the worst asshole, you should stop thinking about him, (y/n).” Aaron’s heart clenched at the words leaving (y/n)’s friend, making him freeze in his step, waiting for her to speak up.

“He is, fuck, he is the absolute worst, such a stuck up asshole, but why does he have to be this handsome?” Before Aaron could even pick up on what his body was forcing him to do, he left Derek behind, walking up to (y/n) and her two friends, instantly catching the attention of the three women. He picked up on the way (y/n)’s pupils grew dilated, almost choking on the sip of her drink, watching him approach them.

“Miss (y/n), in case you don’t remember my word of advice, I’d like to remind you of it. Going around and openly calling your professor an asshole isn’t a strategically smart move, especially not when talking about your possible future boss.” He stared her down for a few more seconds, wondering if she’d speak up, but (y/n) kept quiet. “Well, have a good night, ladies.”

No word left the three women, watching him turn back towards the tall man who had watched the scene unfold with a confused expression. (Y/n)’s heart was in her throat, begging her to speak up, to profoundly apologise once again, but no word managed to leave her as she watched the two men disappear in the crowd.

……

The two cups of coffee (y/n) was carrying were hot in her hands, just enough to warm her cold fingers, guiding her on with the sound of her shoes meeting the ground echoing through the hallway. Her eyes were focused on the doors she kept walking by, searching for the number 3.57, the office she hadn’t set foot in ever before.

Only as (y/n) found the office she was searching for did she come to a halt in front of the closed door, inhaling a deep breath to hype herself up. She shuffled the cups around before she raised one hand to knock on the black wood, pushing it open after a dull “Come in” had echoed through the evening.

Professor Hotchner was sitting at his desk, working on some files. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, fuelled by surprise filling him. Slowly (y/n) closed the door, walking closer towards him with her trembling hands carrying the coffee.

“Peace offering?” She placed the cup down for him, watching him study it for a few seconds before he reached for it, nodding towards the chair placed close to his desk. He took a sip as (y/n) sat down, not expecting the satisfied hum leaving the man, not used to seeing him this calm, relaxed almost.

“Thank you, (y/n). That’s very nice of you.” She fumbled with her fingers, struggling to express the words she had rehearsed for the past hour, no longer able to remember what she wanted to say to him.

“It’s the least I can do. I am sorry for calling you an asshole twice, that wasn’t very considerate of me.” He placed the cup down before he leaned back in his chair, no longer covering the file he had been working on, giving (y/n) a chance to look at the rather cruel looking pictures. One of the pictures showed a woman’s body, surrounded by a circle of lit candles, her throat had been slit, but she was wearing a porcelain mask with an almost theatrical expression. The other four pictures showed victims in other positions, killed differently, and yet they were all wearing a porcelain mask.

“Is this a recent case you’re working on?” His eyes flickered down to the pictures before he looked at (y/n) once again, only nodding his head, waiting if she would comment on what she could see, giving her a chance to prove her knowledge. “They almost look like a work of art, don’t you think? I mean, besides the masks, look at the dramatics used in these scenes.”

Professor Hotchner reached for one of the pictures, studying them for a few moments before a hum of approval left him, “You’re right, does it remind you of something?”

“Have you ever heard of Goya’s Saturn drawing?” Silence engulfed the two, filling the room like fog, growing thicker with every passing second. He kept staring at the pictures, eyes flickering between the different victims, seconds (y/n) used to move closer, getting a better view.

“That’s really good, (y/n), thank you. I’ll have to make a few phone calls now. Feel free to come by in the next few days, I’m sure I’ll have a few updates on this case by then, if you’re interested.”

……

Ever since she had left Professor Hotchner’s office, (y/n)’s mind hadn’t been able to stop racing. While one part of her kept thinking of the case the agent was working on, the other part of her couldn’t help but think about him. She could still smell the expensive scent of his cologne, could still hear his raspy voice rumbling through him, pushing waves of heat through her.

And while that one part of her wanted to make her feel ashamed for what she was about to do, the other encouraged her fingers to keep on moving. Arousal was covering her folds, dripping from her at the mere thought of Aaron Hotchner, of the tall man with hands that would fit around her throat all too nicely.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but wonder what he could do to her, how he’d touch her, if he’d still be as cold to her, or if he’d allow her to see more of the kind man she knew he was. Her fingers circled her pulsing bundle of nerves, adding more speed with every passing moment, back arched off her mattress.

The thought of professor Hotchner guided her, pushed sinful pictures through her racing mind, making her burn in pleasure. The big shirt she was wearing covered her upper body, and yet (y/n)’s mind painted a picture of Aaron Hotchner touching her naked chest, fingers tugging on her hardening nubs. A high pitched “Fuck” left (y/n), knowing that she’d cum soon, with moans and groans leaving her.

She pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against her swollen spot, pushing herself even closer to the edge. Goosebumps covered every inch of her skin, making hairs rise on her arms, giving into the intense sensation she had been desperate for ever since this afternoon.

With a shaky breath exhaled, (y/n) came around her fingers, head thrown back against her big pillow, eyes squeezed shut. Her orgasm thumped through her, with as much strength as a bullet piercing through her skin, leaving never fading marks. She kept moving her fingers for a few more seconds before she relaxed, still imagining Aaron Hotchner towering over her.

Fuck, she needed to get over her crush, quickly, before she’d do something stupid, something that could easily force her to leave his class.

#Aaron Hotchner imagine #profiling 101 #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner smut #criminal minds imagine

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solarisstyles · 7 months

Text

LACED UP

Pairing: Harry Styles x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1k+ Warnings: fluff, cross dressing, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it!), 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: You're surprised to find Harry wearing the sexiest outfit you've ever seen him wear. A/N: spicy!

*please like and reblog to help your local fic writers*

Harry Edward Styles. How does one begin to describe him? He lived his life out of the box, never settling on a label for anything. He was a free spirit who will give anything a fair go. This was one of the big things that attracted you to him. When you started dating and getting intimate with each other, you learned a whole new level of Harry you never expected. He was a switch so it was always a nice surprise if you’ll get the submissive side, or his dominant side.

After dating for so long, you figured there was no way he could surprise you anymore in the bedroom. Pushing open your bedroom door, you were met with a sight that took your breath away.

Harry stood in front of the full length mirror admiring himself, and while that wasn’t out of the ordinary to see, it’s what he was wearing.

“Harry, what are you doing babe?” you softly spoke once you found your voice.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes met yours through the mirror, wide and scared looking. “Um, I, uh…” he stuttered, frozen in place.

Your eyes scanned his body, admiring the beige colored women’s lingerie he was wearing. You could tell he had on a full set, the sheer cover up barely leaving little to the imagination. The lace thong and lace bra he wore beneath it was barely visible. As your eyes found his own again, you smiled. Blushing from his face down to his chest, he held your stare. “Turn around for me baby. Let me see you.” you instructed, doing a little circular motion with your pointer finger.

Slowly, he turned to face you, looking down at the rug he stood on, shifting on his feet nervously. He was beautiful. The color of the set was just a few shades darker than his skin tone so it complimented him perfectly. The fabric was so snug and hugged every curve like he had it custom made for his body.

Slowly approaching him, you tilted his chin so he was looking at you again, his face still cherry red and eyes full of fear. “What’s got you so nervous baby?” you asked, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“This…this isn’t too much?” he asked, voice shaky.

Softly caressing his cheek, he leaned into your touch, finding comfort in it. “Absolutely not. You look so pretty.” you praised, your hand then slowly glided down his neck, teasingly gliding your finger back and forth beneath the straps of his bra.

“You think I look pretty?” his wide doe eyes looked up at you hopefully, goosebumps rising on his skin from your gentle touches. He looked so fragile, like if you were too rough with him right now he’d shatter into hundreds of pieces on the bedroom floor. This was a new level of vulnerability for him, and it was your turn to be the comforter.

“I think you look beautiful, devine, breathtaking. How come you’ve never worn this for me?” biting your lip, you looked him over once more, wanting to etch this scene into your mind forever.

“I just got it probably about a week ago. I’ve always wanted to try it but never got the nerve till recently.” he explained, a small smile now spreading along his lips. “I felt so pretty when I first tried it on,” he confessed, “I was just worried you wouldn’t be into it.” your eyes snapped up to his own. It was understandable why he would be fearful. He’s never been with a partner who was open to trying new things in the bedroom.

“Oh, I’m into it. If I had a dick right now, it would be hard.” Your joke made him laugh, visibly causing his body to relax some. “Is this how it feels when you see me in lingerie?” you dared to ask, still trying to calm your rapid heart beat.

“Like you’ve got the breath knocked from your lungs?” Harry asked, thinking back to the first time he saw you in red lace, laid out for him on the bed.

“Exactly.” you confirmed, moving to stand behind him, gliding your finger tips over his chest as you went. Kissing the warm skin on his shoulder, your kisses trailed over to his neck, softly licking and sucking on his skin.

Softly breathing out a deep breath he’d been holding, he whimpered quietly, leaning back into you.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me Harry?” you whispered in his ear, your hands softly rubbing his sides.

“Yes ma’am.” he breathed out, eyes fluttering shut.

Your lips resumed their work, marking up one side of his neck then moving to the other side. Your hands gained a mind of their own, feeling up and down his body. The embroidered pattern on the slip cover he wore felt so good beneath your fingertips. The fabric itself had a soft and delicate feeling. This wasn’t a cheap set and was obviously well made. Harry wanted the best if he was really going to try this out, and this was the best possible outcome he could get from doing it.

Moving upward from his waist, your hands found their way to his pecs, squeezing and groping him through the bra like he would your own tits. He couldn’t help but giggle, which made you smile against his neck, “Nice tits.” you playfully said, pinching his nipples.

“Shit, babe.” he gasped, his hands covering your own, but not stopping them.

You giggled then, placing a final kiss on his neck “Get on the bed, I want to make you feel good.”

He gave you a quick nod, making quick work to get on the bed for you. Pushing the shopping bag and boxes off the bed that once held the garments he was wearing, you placed yourself in front of him, knees touching as you both knelt. “How are you feeling?” you asked him, wanting to make sure he was comfortable with how this was playing out.

“Good, really good.” he assured, smiling softly at you.

“Good, lay back on the pillows and get comfortable.” stripping yourself of your own clothes as you instructed him.

Sitting there in your bra and panties, your eyes wandered over the expanse of Harry’s body that was laid out before you. “You look so damn good.”, slowly crawling up his body, seeking out his lips against your own.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your ass, squeezing and rubbing at your soft flesh, causing you to whimper a soft moan against his mouth. Reaching back, you grasped his wrists, pulling his hands away from you and pinning them above his head, “Keep them there.”

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes following your hands, watching them and feeling them caress his warm skin.

“You look so pretty in this. Shame I have to take it off of you.” pouting your lip out, drawing shapes around on his belly with your finger tips.

“I’ll wear it again for you if you want.” he offered, soaking up all the loving attention you were pouring out to him.

“I’ll buy you whatever little piece you want if it means you’ll wear it for me.” you smiled down at him.

“Promise?” he asked hopefully.

“Promise baby.” you assured, leaning down to his chest, trailing soft kisses down to his belly, then down to his crotch. Looking up at him through your lashes, you slowly pushed the slip up to his hips, finally getting to feast your eyes upon the beautiful thong he wore. His cock that was only half hard, was strained against the fabric, the tip of his cock peeking out by his thigh where he’d tucked himself.

“So pretty.” you whispered, kissing along where his cock was bulging.

His cock twitched beneath the soft fabric, making you smile up at him. He swallowed roughly, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he watched you intently. Keeping your eyes locked with his own, you dragged your tongue along the sheer fabric covering his hardened cock, flicking your tongue along the tip of his cock teasingly.

“Babe.” he whined, grasping at the pillows he laid on.

“Hm?” you hummed, playing innocent.

“Want your mouth.” he panted, wiggling his hips slightly under you impatiently, “Please.” he begged.

“Only because you’ve got such good manners baby girl.” you winked, sitting up, you grabbed the waistband of the thong, pulling it off him with a little help from him lifting his hips and maneuvering his legs. Tossing the fabric off the bed, you resumed your teasing kisses and licks along each of his thighs, working your way up to his now fully hardened cock. Gliding your tongue along his shaft, you grasped him firmly at the base, slowly taking him into your mouth. You both moaned in unison, your own moan sending glorious vibrations down his cock, his moan sending a rush of arousal to your own aching core.

Driving Harry crazy with your mouth was one of your favorite things to do, he was so easily riled up by you sucking him. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, fighting to not reach his peak so quickly. It was hard to not be so close though from all the foreplay and not to mention how hot you looked sucking his cock.

You could see his stomach tensing and relaxing, his cock twitching against your tongue. Your hand stroking what of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth, pulling off of him, droll stringing from his cock to your swollen lips you asked, “Where do you want to cum baby.”

“You, inside you baby please.” he begged, whimpering desperately for you to not stop.

Placing a soft kiss to his hip, you sat up to remove your bra and panties, straddling his hips and positioning yourself above his cock. He watched with bated breath as you positioned him at your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto him with ease from how aroused you are. Settling your hips against his own, his cock fully inside of you, you looked up at him, finding his line of sight focused on where you two were now connected as one.

Raising your hips you clenched around him, causing him to groan, “Don’t tease me baby.” he rasped, voice strained and an octave deeper than normal.

Smirking at him, you dropped your hips back down, sitting him deep inside you once more. Grinding your hips around him, causing you to moan at the delicious feeling. The tip of his cock rubbing against your g-spot is enough to stir you crazy.

“Oh, God.” you gasped out, rocking your hips at a steady pace, eventually working yourself into a bouncing motion, his hips meeting yours half way, fucking up into you.

“Just like that baby. Don’t stop.” he grunted, still grasping the pillows for dear life.

“Touch me Harry, please touch me.” you cried out, desperate for physical contact from him.

His hands have never moved so quickly, grasping your hips and holding them steady as he quickly thrusted up into you.

A scream of pleasure slurred with his name tumbled from your lips, drunk off his cock pounding you. Laying your body against his own, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. Bending his knees and planting his feet into the mattress he used it as leverage to continue his quick pace, “I’m so close.” he warned, turning his face to your own, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss.

You were close to, dangerously so, your pussy throbbed around him, clenching and unclenching his cock. Reaching down between your bodies, Harry’s fingers began to rub your clit, making you moan into his mouth. “Cum for me baby.” he rasped against your lips.

“Mmm, fuck!” you moaned, your climax finally bubbling over, coating his cock in your sweet release. The lewd wet sounds of his cock fucking your wet cunt, mixed with your moans was the final push he needed to reach his own orgasm. Thrusting deep inside you, holding himself there while he came, your walls fluttered around his cock, milking every drop of cum from him that he had.

Slowly coming down from his high, his legs fell back against the bed, you both were breathing roughly to catch the breath that was lost between you both.

Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, you rolled off of him and laid down next to him. “Never stop surprising me.” you said as you looked at the ceiling. Cracking a tired smile and a soft laugh, he nodded, “Deal.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #sunny writes

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

Note

hello mods!! ive just read a fic called ''curve of old bones'' and ''snow angel'' i believe it was called and was wondering what fic you can recommend me to read that follows the themes of fake dating/ enemies to friends to lover/ pining whilst fucking sorta thing???

Hey, we have tags for everything you're asking for! #fake/pretend relationship, #enemies to lovers, #enemies to friends to lovers, #pining while fucking. As pining while fucking only has two posts, here are some more to add...

Curses foiled again by hapax (E)

To be blunt: in order to return to tip-top condition, Aziraphale was going to have to get laid. And the angel had spent almost six thousand years of his existence among humans assiduously avoiding anything of the sort. Aziraphale turns to his hereditary enemy for assistance with a particularly pesky curse. After all, it’s not like a demon has any feelings that might be involved.

Ambrosia by pilatesandpinot (E)

Those damn aphrodisiacs. They chatted as they soaked in the water, Crowley ate from a platter of fruit, hoping the sugar from them would somehow cure his sudden lightheadedness, as the blood in his head was probably pumping down to his groin, and get rid of the heated feeling in his abdomen, while Aziraphale lathered her arms and shoulders with oil. When she moved down to her breasts and tummy, she leaned back a bit, slowly and carefully cupping herself and making a small little hum sound as she rubbed her belly. Crowley had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning, watching the glisten of the angel’s skin, the warm glow she seemed to be emitting, her lush and curvy body sitting comfortably in the water. He was indeed fucked. ------------------------------ Aziraphale and Crowley have oysters at Petronius's, and soon learn while visiting the bath house afterwards why oysters are one of Aphrodite's favorite foods.

May My Teaching Drop as the Rain by Dee_Morris (E)

Several people on Twitter have commented that there isn't enough Ineffable Tutors content out there, and I have to agree. The book doesn't go into very much detail about what Cortese and Harrison get up to in the years they spend educating young Warlock, and as a fic writer there's nothing as much fun as a blank space to play in. I expect that the stories in this series will more or less stand alone, but I'll add notes and recaps where I think it's necessary. These will mostly be light-hearted horny adventures with little to no angst. Tags may change or be added as I write more stories.

Out There by snae_b (E)

Small town paper, small town news, and Aziraphale always gets stuck with the shit stories. Strange lights in the desert? Aziraphale might as well be writing about el Chupacabra. Again. At least his source is cute, even if he is a little out there.

The Arrangement by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley are set up on a blind date as a joke by their respective housemates. They decide to get their own back and call everybody's bluff by *gasp* fake dating!

Craving by DawnOfTomorrow (E)

“You want me to pay for it.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His assistant said, entirely unimpressed by the fact that he could fire her. “You said-” “I said that it would probably be a good idea for you to get some, and if you can’t be bothered to do it the normal way, that there are professional options. And then I said that if you’d like, I could recommend someone.” --- He called the fucking number. He didn’t know why – okay, he did, he was an idiot, tipsy, lonely, and horny – but he called the damn number. --- Even just looking at the blonde’s profile, he felt a twinge in his gut. Blonde curls indeed – over features that revealed the other man’s age, light eyes, and a cute, upturned nose. Slim lips, currently curved in a smile for the bartender. Crowley studied the rest of him too – a bit of chub, not enough to be fat, but definitely dad-bod territory. He sighed softly, wondering what sort of witch Anathema was, because she had been spot on about this guy being his type. He didn’t even need to see the large hands or plush thighs to make up his mind – this… this could work.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #pining while fucking #human au #mod d

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itsabouttimex2 · 14 days

Note

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE YOUR AU!!!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!! op, your ideas are fantastic, you're really creative and an awesome writer!! 💫🌟

The monkiefam dynamic is so fun to read about — and pretty sad in MK's case, the poor guy.

Hopefully it's not too dark of a question, but how brutal does MK get during the primal moon? If he gets too violent with reader, does Wukong or Mac try stopping him or would they just let the natural pecking order happen?

I feel so bad for him, he's is gonna have a hell of a time acknowleding all the stuff he did during the primal moon week :/

Thank you so much, that means a lot to me! I’m glad people like my silly little things! (UPDATED to add a few extra characters!)

Thankfully for Y/N, MK isn’t too brutal- I don’t think they’ll come out with anything worse than a sprained wrist or ankle. The trauma will persist far beyond their injuries, however. When the last green moon of the week fades, he’s positively distraught.

Lining his hand curiously up to a slap mark on Y/N’s cheek to check it, tears brimming in his eyes when it lines up too perfectly to be a coincidence.

I don’t know whether he heartbrokenly distances himself or tries to make up for it with extreme smothering. The poor kid just wanted to spend what was supposed to “just another green moon” with one of his best friends.

And as for Macaque, though he’d really like to help Y/N… he just doesn’t have the ranking. MK is above him in the hierarchy, so he genuinely can’t do anything to upset or piss him off. This only that accomplishes is him getting smacked around right beside Y/N. All he can really do for them is apply herbal balm and bandages after the fact. If he hasn’t had a deal applied to his powers yet, Macaque might think about trying his shadow portals, but… it’s probably better not to risk having two angry monkeys on his tail, demanding to know where he’s hidden their beloved cub/rookie.

Sun Wukong is crazy delusional under the moon’s influence- to him, Y/N getting thrown and tosses all around is just “playfighting”, so he won’t interfere until after things get genuinely harmful. The moment he hears his little “cub” scream and start to cry, Old Sun is there in a second, bringing them into his arms and cooing softly. If they come to him begging for protection and use a “Bàba” to sweeten the deal, they’ll have his shelter for a number of hours, so it’s not impossible to get away from MK… just very hard.

And even after learning that something as severe as a broken wrist has occurred, Wukong coddles MK and forgives him on your behalf, writing the whole thing off as an accident. Not that you get any less smothering then him- you’re now stuck in bed with stuff bandages and surrounded by young mountain monkeys and sweet fruit. In a way, it saves you from any further rough play.

All three of them are dangerous in their own ways, of course. None are outright above “disciplining” you, with slaps or bites or shoves. There’s no bone-shattering or flesh-tearing, but they make you afraid that there will be.

———————————————————————

After the Primal Moon ends, there’s a lot of patching-up to do afterwards. For example…

Pigsy has to come down from the constant self-drugging, taking more than a few hours to compose himself and make the rounds with his friends, calling them all up in short order. Once he’s gotten through everyone- Tang, Sandy, Mei, even her parents… then he spends a few minutes making sure he hasn’t gored any holes into his restaurant. Unlocks the windows and doors, but doesn’t flip the open sign.

He’s not up to deal with customers right now. All he wants is to check on his kids.

He’ll take MK and you out to eat today, he thinks. You’ve both earned it, after a week of isolation up in your shared room, under strict instructions to stay inside and come down for no one and nothing.

Red Son is always horribly humiliated when everything is said and done, a groaning and red-faced mess of shame. Another week of essentially devolving into a child, desperate for love and attention. Another, slow, grudging week of constant begging for skinship and words of praise. Needless to say, he’s pissed off and looking for an outlet, and beating on the numerous Bull Clones just doesn’t seem all too enticing… when he’s got a much squishier target who’ll actually squirm and yelp?

Sure, he’s not going to outright mangle you. No permanent burns. No shattered spine. And he’ll take pity on you eventually and stop with the torment. After a few months, he might even start to like you.

Let’s hope you get there mostly unscathed.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Primal Moon #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere MK #Yandere Macaque #Yandere Pigsy #Yandere Red Son #Monkiefam

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missgavi · 1 year

Text

NSFW Alphabet - Pablo Gavi

authors note : sorry for being MIA y'all, sooo, to apologise for it here is a full fic. (my first ever full fic might I add) hope you all enjoy it !!

nsfw under the cut

a = aftercare ( what is he like after sex )

As much as I would like to say he's extremely sweet and caring and puts you first, he's a teenage boy. He is aware that some bit of aftercare is always need it and does the bare minimum but he isn't mature enough to realise HOW important aftercare is . I can see him getting up to throw away the condom and on his way back he'd bring you a towel and wipe you down while kissing your knee. Maybe he'd go to the kitchen and grab some water for the both of you and after that he'd get into bed and cuddle you to bed but that's about it. He still has more to learn but I see him willing to in the future.

b = body part ( what's his favourite body part on him and his partner)

on him, it's definitely his defined abdomen. he knows girls dig it and he definitely gets cocky about it. not to mention he's proud to brag about it from all his intense hours of training. he also loves it when you kiss his abs and will constantly tease you about it. sometimes, when he knows you're watching a game, he will intentionally raise his shirt to wipe some sweat of his forehead when actually he's just showing off his abs.

on you, he's definitely a tits guy. as most teenagers he is absolutely obsessed with boobs. yes, he likes ass and thighs as well but he isn't mature yet to fully appreciate them yet. so , tits it is. he absolutely adores it when you wear a more fitted top that shows cleavage or one of those short silk dresses that hug your breasts perfectly. not to mention he loves to see them bounce when you ride him or when he fucks you into the mattress . you always have hickeys, marks and bites all over them and you always scold him for it but he just shrugs and keeps doing it.

c = cum ( anything to do with cum )

coming inside of you is a huge no. he isn't a fan of becoming a teen dad so he always uses extra safe condoms even if you are on the pill. maybe sometimes he'll pull out, get rid of the condom and spill over your tits but that's about it. he isn't taking any chances.

d = dirty secret ( one of his dirty secrets )

he has a password protected album on his phone full of pictures and videos of you. either ones you sent him when he was away, dressed only in lingerie or nothing at all or some he took of you.his favourite video is one he took of you while you sucked him off. he's always extremely careful to not show his face in any of the videos and besides the two of you no one knows about the album. he doesn't want that piece of information to fall into the wrong hands.

e = experience ( how experienced is he )

ok so listen very carefully. if you aren't aware of it already, Spanish boys are ones of Europes biggest play boys ever. fact. they learn to flirt before learning to walk. I don't get why all fanfic writers portray Gavi as some dumb and unexperienced teenager as if he isn't a horny 18 years old. not to mention that yeah sure, he seems sweet and shy but for gods sake, he's the youngest player for FC Barcelona. He's also the youngest World Cup scorer in the world. He's good , he's hot an he knows it. he definitely isn't some scared little virgin. Sure, there is space to learn and improve but he knows what he's doing and he absolutely knows how to make you feel good.

f = favourite position ( his favourite position to have sex )

cowgirl. he adores it when you ride. mostly because he can play with your tits but also because it doesn't require to much force from seeing as his legs are tired most of the time from practice. this way he can just relax while you set a pace enjoyable for both of you. oh but god forbid you want to tease him , he will immediately grab your hips and start thrusting up into you or flip you around and pound you into the mattress.

g = goofy ( is he goofy or serious during sex ? )

I can see him as both actually. if he's angry or stressed out or just in the mood for a rough fuck, be sure he'll fuck you into the next day without as much as a smirk on his lips. but , mostly in the morning, he's a sucker for soft sex where he leans in to kiss you passionately and then pull back giggling while looking in your eyes, a huge boyish grin on his face.

h = hair ( how well groomed he is and if the carpet matches the drapes)

he's definitely taking care of that area. he shaves when needed and keeps things nice and trimmed down there. not completely bare but definitely tidied.

i = intimacy ( how is he during the moment )

it definitely depends on his mood, Pablo can play both ways. his short temper is definitely a fan of rough , fast and intense sex, loving the powerful feeling of a quick fuck but again, he's a sucker for soft and intimate sex. as all teenagers he will never admit it but he craves that deeper connections and just loves to be held and softly caressed. on of his favourite positions for soft sex is spooning. in the morning he'll just slip right in and gently fuck you awake while hugging you close to his chest.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon )

he's a teenage boy. he'll rub one out 24/7 . if he has you in reach, he will definitely fuck you instead of his fist but if he's away for a game, wakes up alone in the bed or has some extra time in the shower he'll definitely give himself a little release. his favourite way so to say to jack off is when he's away for game and that's when that little photo/video album will come in handy, a video or candid photo of you always doing the trick for a quick release.

k = kink ( one or more of their kinks )

this might sound a bit weird for him seeing as he is still young but he loves to dominate you. on the field , he's always the youngest and people love to kick him around, and that sometimes can make him feel powerless. so, in result to that, he loves to feel powerful in the bedroom. he adores when you listen to him and is always willing to praise you up to the heavens for it . but also, he gets a kick out of you being bratty. he's obsessed with putting you back in your place.

l = location ( favourite place to have sex )

his house. literally any place in his house. bedroom, kitchen counter, bathroom, couch etc. it's his own little safe place and he loves to fuck you there. he also likes it that it's risk free. he isn't a big fan of getting caught while his dick is down your throat or his fingers buried in your cunt.

m = motivation ( what gets him going )

anything. literally anything. something as innocent as putting lip gloss on or smelling your perfume. this boy will get turned on by anything. his favourite how ever is when you give him those eye. for instance, if he's across the room talking to someone and meets your sultry eyes, he's done for.

n = no ( something he wouldn't do )

coming inside of you. he doesn't care if you're on birth control, he isn't taking any chances. he's down to coming on your ass or tits, even your stomach but he for sure doesn't want to risk getting you pregnant. it's too much of a risk for him.

o = oral ( preferences on oral ? does he enjoy more giving or receiving ?)

i don't know what y'all are on but Gavi, like most teenage boys, definitely prefers receiving over giving. he's down to give head and his ego explodes each time you praise him. however, he definitely gets a bigger kick out of seeing you on your knees for him, looking up with glassy eyes while his hand is tangled in your hair.

p = pace ( what's his pace ?)

Gavi fucks like he plays, fast, rough and passionate. His fiery temper fuels him to go all the way out. Don't get me wrong, he loves a good session of love making in the early mornings, when he's tired or when he's in a romantic mood but most of the time he fucks. hard.

q = quickie ( what's his opinions on quickies )

he's a sucker for quickies as long as they are safe. it means he's totally down to quickly fuck you before going out or have quick session in the shower but he isn't a huge fan of fucking in risky places like club bathrooms. he's way too scared someone might recognise him and he doesn't want to ruin his reputation just cause his downstairs friend can't wait 5 minutes.

r = risk ( is he a risk taker , is he up for new things )

once again, he's down for everything besides breeding as long as it's in the security of his bedroom.

s = stamina ( how many rounds can he go for ? what's his stamina like )

for anyone who hasn't see Gavi playing, this man is constantly running from one end of the field to another. If he gets knocked down , almost instantly he's back up. this man's stamina is incredible. not to mention the endless intensive training hours. he definitely can go for a few rounds one after the other. perks of being a high performance athlete. (danny ric)

t = toys ( does he own any toys ? does he like using them on you )

he himself hasn't purchased any toys but he's down to teasing you with your vibrator. that is until he gets bored and fucks you into the mattress. he is however thinking about buying some ties or maybe handcuffs just so he can tie you up with something other than his black tie.

u = unfair ( how unfair is he ? does he like to tease you )

i don't care what any of you say about this, Pablo is one of the biggest teases on this planet. He absolutely adores to tease you and reducing you to a begging mess. wether he's innocently caressing you during dinner or denying your orgasm for the third time this night, he will tease you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

v = volume ( how loud is he ? how loud does he want his partner to be ?)

gavi himself isn't too loud in the bedroom. mostly grunts and groans and maybe the occasional whimper when he lets you tease him before he gets agitated and pounds you into the next week. however, he thrives of hearing you moan and whine under him. it's music to his ears. the more you whimper the more his ego grows and his hips snap faster against yours.

w = wildcard ( random handcanon)

[ as mentioned earlier, gavi prefers receiving over giving. oh but when he gives, he isn't playing]

pablos lips were busy sucking marks onto your inner thighs while you whine for him to move them to your pussy.

“come on princesa, you know whining isn’t gonna get you what you want. tell me what you really want and i’ll give it to you,” he says, biting your thigh softly before soothing it with his tongue.

“pablo please,” you continue to whine, trying to wiggle your hips but he just pins them down. “please what, bebe?”

“i want your tongue,” you whine. “and where do you want my tongue?” he asks, continuing to mark up your inner thighs as he kissed his way up your body.

“here?” he asks, kissing your stomach up to your tits where he’d leave a few more hickeys. “or here?” he continues as he sucks on your nipple.

“pablo,” you whine. “come on bebe, just tell me where you want my tongue,” gavi coos at you.

“my pussy! please, i need your tongue in my pussy!” you finally let out and he moves his head back down between your thighs.

“now was that so hard?” he asks before diving into your pussy, eating it like a starved man, bringing you to as many orgasms as you wanted.

the next day, as you’re getting ready, you finally notice all of the purple marks he left on your skin.

“pablo!” you yell at him and he runs into the room, worried that something had happened.

“what’s wrong corazon?” gavi asks as he saw the glare on your face. “what’s wrong? look at me! i look like i got attacked by leeches!” you exclaim, pointing at all the marks on your neck, chest and thighs while he just had a smug look on his face.

“you look so pretty covered in my marks though,” he grins. “in fact…” he starts as he moves behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“why don’t i give you some more?”

x = x-ray ( let's see what's going on underneath those clothes )

listen, if he was anything out of this world we would have known by now from those football jersey's close ups but he's doing more than fine. i see him more on the lengthier side rather than thickness.

y = yearning ( how high is their sex drive ?)

through the roof. this man would fuck you every breathing second if he could.

z = zzz ( how fast does he fall asleep after sex ?)

if he's tired and all cuddled up besides you, he's out like light. but in other cases he's up for a little bit of pillow talk before dozing off.

#miss gavi writes #pablo gavi #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x y/n #pg6 #pg30 #fc barcelona #fcb #fc barca #football #pablo gavira

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jaeyunsz · 1 year

Text

a writer’s main character - lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader (she/her)

genre: college!au, writer!heeseung, ill!reader, ANGST

expected word count: 25k+

warnings: mentions of death and sickness, unrequited love, cursing, smut (more will be added when it is finalized)

summary: in your whole life, you have never fallen in love. love was a feeling that you wanted to experience and after finding out that you have just a little more than a year to live, you become more desperate to fall in love with someone. lucky for you, the head editor of your university’s newspaper is determined find a muse for their best writer, lee heeseung, for him to finish up his last article before he graduates. you only accept in one condition; heeseung would help you fall in love.

a/n: reposting this bc i decided to finish it and hope to post it in the upcoming weeks!

It was already April and Heeseung still had zero idea what to write about. He had recently turned in his latest article. He wanted to start writing his last article for the year immediately so it wouldn’t bother him when he gets busy with graduation. He didn’t expect to be out of ideas since his mind was always clouded with new stuff to type on his laptop. Well, there was a first time for everything, right? He just wanted his last article to be big and original, never been done before. He wanted to leave an impact.

Being a literature major, Heeseung had always liked to read books and write in his dusty notebook. His dream was to publish a book and he would do everything to make his dream come true. He was still young and had a lot to learn. Throughout the years, he worked next to different writers and publishers.

Heeseung had been writing for the university’s newspaper since the freshmen year. People barely got the chance to publish their own writings in the newspaper so it came as a surprise when Heeseung’s article was seen on the first page as a first year student. He was on cloud nine to see that he had given a chance to prove himself as a writer.

But now, he was on writer’s block and the head editor was getting on his nerves.

‘’Have you thought about what you’re going to write about Heeseung?’’ Yeonjun asked during a meeting, making Heeseung bite the inside of his cheek.

‘’I’m stuck.’’ Heeseung replied, not taking his eyes off from his phone as he scrolled through empty apps. Yeonjun eyed him up and down, watching the writer closely.

‘’I can see that you’re stressed about it. Don’t you seriously have nothing to write about? It’s just- I’ve never seen you like this before. You always have something up your sleeve.’’ The older boy confronted him.

Yeonjun was also surprised by this outcome since Heeseung always had magnificent ideas. Heeseung locked his phone and put it on the table in front of him. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh before looking at Yeonjun again.

‘’I know you don’t like to ask about others for ideas but listen to me for a second before you try to punch me. I think I have certain person in my mind that you might want to write about.’’ Yeonjun continued, his words making Heeseung sit straight up.

‘’I’m desperate at this point. I’m all ears.’’

Yeonjun let released a relieved sigh, a tiny smile replacing the frown on his face. ‘’Have you ever met Beomgyu’s friend, Y/N?’’

‘’Not in person but I think I’ve seen her around.’’

‘’Heeseung, she is dying-‘’

‘’What do you mean she is dying?’’ Heeseung said with a serious expression.

‘’Heeseung, she is literally dying. Beomgyu mentioned that she had a heart condition. It does not look good and her doctor says that she only has around a year before… you know. The interesting part is; after she found all about that she told Beomyu that she wanted to fall in love so why don’t you write about her? Follow her around for a couple months until she finds somebody. Your article will be ready by then. Also the story will stay as a memory in her honor. So what do you say?’’

#heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung

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dinums · 2 months

Text

Secrets and Broken Hearts

-----------------------------

Chapter 3

Thomas Shelby x (Writer) Reader

Ms. Bennett is a peculiar woman whose motives are always unclear, though, of course, she alone has grace this knowledge upon herself and none of anyone she knows. What happens when an inspector and his spy come to town? Shall she make due and quench her curiosity or finally learn to back down? Who knows, maybe at the end, she'll compromise. A conflicted woman will always be a surprise. You can trust that. It's Ms. Bennett afterall

Ms. Bennet's P.O.V.

...

"This is pointless as it is stupid." I mumbled to myself. Tossing and turning on my shared bed with William. If a national treasure really did get stolen, what treasure would it be?

Minerals? Gold? Jewellery? Some ornaments from the royal family? Placing my arm to cover my face, I groaned in frustration. Surely, these factors I laid out won't be considered. After all, all these can easily be replaced or would have no effect to be a threat to this very constitution. Treasure.

"What's a treasure besides Gold that once in the hands of others you would crumble..." I thought deeply, a world run by men surely limited me to a few other factors.

"My guess is, it's either illegal documents, ledger, guns, some proof blackmailing Churchill himself." Talking to myself aloud, I rolled on my stomach. My face buried in the pillows as I screamed internally.

"Thomas Shelby and Freddie Thorne, one of them might know a thing or two." As if hit with adrenaline, something clicked in my brain, I sat up and thought more clearly.

"Freddie either did or did not know what the national treasure is, nor who stole it. If he knew, he wouldn't have said those words to Thomas... but if he did, was it to catch Thomas with a bluff? What does bluffing get him? Anyway, he knew even if Thomas knew something, he wouldn't tell Freddie... meaning that rules out the second probability"

My thoughts turned to Thomas earlier, I decided that he would be the one I would use as lead.

"How in the world am I to get close to a mobster?" Without realising it, I started to bite my lip while my nails made their way to claw on my thigh. Once I tasted blood, I stopped and lied back down.

The Shelby's were people I was acquainted with, much like half the people in Small Heath. Jon Shelby and I were classmates. He and his brothers would cause mischief here and there before. I then remembered the time they would encourage cigarettes and alcohol to the students in school. That made me laugh, I remember Jon giving me a handful, which caused Arthur to smack him in the head, saying , "Oi! Yer only supposed to give em one of each! Then, after the second time, you rip their money off! It's what Tommy said!" Turns out it was a money laundering little scheme which got me a bit close to the two Shelby brothers. After that, they treated me nicely, Thomas, on the other hand... well, he was just there. Nothing more, nothing less. At least I can speak a bit freely than others would.

"Maybe I can use this closeness with Jon and Arthur to get close to Thomas..."

Looking up at the ceiling, I blinked a few times. If only I knew no bounds, then maybe, maybe I wouldn't want to stick my nose up in other peoples business.

"Morris Dawn"

My penname, a reminder of my other life. I had to write about something soon. If I were to investigate and yet not publish this, what good does it make? I'm risking my life and earning nothing. Must I be damned to be a curious writer by heart? I cursed myself under my breath.

Looking over my side, I see that night has already come. William isn't home yet.

"Make up your mind. You're wasting time." I groaned, talking to myself once more. Standing up, I walked towards the vanity, formulating every plan for every possible outcome already.

By the time William came home, I lay in bed, asleep. Brain fried. Odds and probabilities everywhere.

"Oh, love..." William chuckled, undressing himself down to only his trousers before making his way to bed and underneath the covers.

When I woke up, I was alone in bed. A note to my right that read:

"I had to go to the shop early today, made breakfast for you. Just the way you like it"

-William

I smiled at the note before making my way to freshen up and get ready for the day. Later that morning, I went and ran errands. Going to my usual go-to bakery, i smiled at the familiar woman handling the register.

"Oh, Ms. Bennett! What a lovely surprise"

"Hello, Mrs. Fer. How are you?"

I asked, as then she answered me. We go about our conversation as I picked out some bread and pastries from the older woman.

"Oh? By the way, Ms. Bennett"

"Mhm? What is it? Anything wrong? Maybe I can help, " I said kindly, the bag of food around my arm.

"I heard there's an inspector in town. He came last night... Best be careful, Ms. Bennett. My husband told me to stay quiet about this, but I just worry for you. Thought I ought to let you know that you're like the daughter we never had after all..."

My heart swelled with love for the older woman, reaching out to squeeze her hand to comfort her, I decided to ask more for purposes, of course.

"But Mrs. Fer, what about the inspector? Surely he wouldn't harm innocent people here, right?" The older woman only shook her head and sighed.

"My dear, you're far too nice for this town. Why not move away to somewhere safer with your lover? Get married, have a peaceful life -"

"And leave you behind? I'd rather not Mrs. Fer, I've come to love the people in this town enough to stay." I interrupted her, which made her frown deepen. I only shook my head and gave a soft smile. It was the truth, after all.

"The inspector called for a meeting, all the policemen and some new lackeys. Told my husband and the others that he would be cleaning this town up. Dear, a man like that -" She stopped herself and cupped both of my cheeks before continuing, "a man like that will stop at nothing, so it's best to keep safe, aye?"

I nodded as she released her hands from my face. Bidding goodbye, I walked out of the bakery with my freshly baked goods and onto my next errand. Mrs. Fer, an old lady married to a policeman sure does have its perks, added points that she's quite fond of me as I with her.

Though I did feel guilty using these people, masking and hiding beyond a facade of a sweet young lady. I stopped in my tracks before shaking my head, trying to get physically rid of these thoughts.

"Remember, if what you're doing is for their good... a little harm here and there wouldn't hurt, besides... it isn't like they know any of it"

The day went by smoothly, and I finally had something to work with. From the bakery I found out of the inspector, from the butcher I heard some men talking about what they knew of the said inspector whilst the women talked about someone trying to find the identity of the mysterious Author, Morris Dawn which in turn made me gulped, I had to be careful. lastly, from William's shop, I found out how there had been people, mostly wives gone missing. Feeling lucky, I put the things I bought inside the flat, there had been new things to investigate, so many things to know, getting a few breads I bought before putting them inside a basket. I decided to go to the Garisson, to at least visit Harry, I forgot that I hadn't had the chance to pay for my drink last time, hence the bread.

Walking down the familiar path down Watery Lane, I think of the words to say when suddenly, someone harshly bumped into me. My focus on the bread as I tried to save them, but alas, only one was left safe.

"There goes my luck then... shouldn't have spoken too soon..."

"You're luck, eh?" A familiar gruff voice said, whipping my head from the bread on the ground towards the person. My eyes locked into those blue crystallike eyes of him.

"Yes, my luck. Mr. Shelby. This was for Harry, I ought to give him an apology for not being able to pay for my drink-" realising I was giving out too much of my thoughts to a man who wo t even care, I shut my mouth, blinking a few times, what am I doing.

After an awkward silence, I stepped out of his way, noticing the alchohol bottle he was holding, knowing better than to ask him to pay for the soiled bread. Going inside the pub without another word, I walked to the bar. To my surprise, a young, beautiful, blonde woman came into view, working at the bar, pouring drinks instead of Harry.

"Oh- hello, you are -?" I asked kindly, though it was overshadowed by my surprise and confusion.

"Grace, Grace Burgees. I'm the new Barmaid," She explained, an Irish accent to her. I nodded and smiled.

"Do you know where Harry is? I ought to give him some bread..."

Just in time, Harry came I to view, to my relief. I explained to him why i only had one loaf of bread rather than more. Nonetheless, he accepted it with gratitude. When I gave him money for the drink, though, that was the time he refused. I shook my head and accepted defeat, still talking to Harry as Grace was on the side.

"I'm really sorry to give you a half-hearted apology, Harry. If only I'd look in the way Mr. Shelby -" I was cut off by Harry reassuring me once more that it was fine. After a bit, Grace looked at me, I gave her my name, which she responded with a smile. We talked for a bit, she told me which town she lived in back in Ireland, how life was like there while I told her how I lived my life here in Birmingham, saying words enough to satisfy her curiosity but not enough to give anything away.

"I better get going then. Next time I visit, I'll bring you some bread too!" I said, smiling at her before leaving the bar. She smiled and waved me goodbye.

A woman from the same town as the inspector, someone who came to Small Heath the same time the inspector did. It didn't take much to put two and two together, though that just means they'd do the job for me, correct?

"Maybe I don't have to investigate anything after all..."

Putting this 'treasure' to the side, I went to go look for any leads, common things between these missing wives. If I moved too slowly, either this incompetent policemen would forget about this or have more people killed than needed.

Putting myself with the burden of such heroic secrecy, I walked down Watery Lane. Knocking on the door of one of the husbands of a missing wife.

"Ms. Bennett?" The man asked, surprise he knew who I was.

"Oh- you know who I am?" The man only gave what little smile he could before explaining himself.

"There aren't many people helping around for the good besides that, Pastor." He said, shaking his head.

After a bit of small talk he led me inside, I told him that I wanted to help babysit for their son whilst the coppers try and find his wife since it was well known how he wasn't doing well takinh care of the little critter, that was a mere alibi of course. Though it felt nice to help, my motives were clear to me as the night sky. I am no saint, a mere sham. A lie and a lie I will always become. If a false Saint will be able to keep everyone I could help safe, I'd gladly be one.

#thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x fem!reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy characters #peaky blinders #x reader

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l00rem · 24 days

Text

Gibeon & Amethio are related, but they are not father and son.

So, ep45 had me applying my clown makeup as I was a firm Gibeon is related to Amethio denier and that has uh clearly been proven true by that final scene… but I still don’t think they’re father and son like most people seem to be saying. First, let’s start with Gibeon’s physical condition.

It seems clear by his position in the reveal that he suffers with functioning properly, this is further demonstrated with Hamber’s ‘Gibeon is awake’ comment. Considering he’s at least over 100, this is probably him abusing his mortality coming to bite him in the ass or some injury he sustained when Lucius kicked him out of the Rakua gc. And while pokemon never acknowledges topics like sex for obvious reasons, I doubt the writers would ignore the fact that Gibeon is clearly not in any condition to be breeding (dude only holds like 3 min meetings before going back to bed, he could never last that long in a physical activity such as that)

Now, this brings me to another theory i’ve been seeing: Amethio is some sort of clone/ artificial human being. I can see why some people think this, but i don’t think it’s going to happen. I just think it goes against the themes horizons has been setting up about generations (ex: ep34 where Hamber and Diana both pass things down to Liko and Amethio) i think it would be weird to have all this stuff about ancestry and then just throw in ‘oh and amethio’s not human btw’. It’s also just a really dark existential topic for pokemon, i know they can go dark and have done artificial creation before but that’s always been strictly for pokemon at least to my knowledge. I think people who believe in clone theory are getting too caught up in their Amethio and Hunter from ToH comparisons- ofc your free to theorise what you want but I just don’t see this happening.

To give some more solid proof that Amethio isn’t Gibeon’s son, let’s look at Liko’s ancestry.

As we can see, hair does seem to matter when it comes to being directly descended from someone. All three have the same hair pattern, even if we can’t see the brighter blue for Lucca’s. Compare this to Lucius’s hair:

It’s been made very clear that Liko is a descendant of his somehow, but this isn’t as direct as a great grandfather because then Diana could’ve literally just asked her mom who the man in the photo was to learn they’re related. Lucius resembles them somewhat but there are very clear differences.

Likewise, this seems to be the case with Gibeon and Amethio’s hair differences. They have the same colour scheme of white and black, but the way the two colours are separated are completely different. Just as Lucius and Liko’s family both have that sticky outy bit of their hair, Amethio and Gibeon both share that little white antenna although Gibeon’s is positioned differently.

So here’s my proposition: Amethio is related to Gibeon the same way Liko is related to Lucius.

Perhaps then Amethio is some distant relative to Gibeon who he located at some point- likely he didn’t have any family and so when Gibeon pulls up with his ‘oh hey we’re related’ spiel Amethio jumps at the chance for any form of connection. It’s not clear how much Amethio knows regarding Gibeon (he didn’t even know why he wanted the pendant after all) but perhaps Gibeon uses his condition as a further way of manipulating Amethio: not only does Amethio work for explorers to get Gibeon’s approval but also to find whatever he needs to not die so he won’t lose his last chance at family?

I also believe this is supported by all the Amethio-Liko parallels the show has been building up. It’s likely that Amethio’s backstory could be a dark mirror of Liko’s where the Explorers are to him what RVT is to Liko. Although, Amethio’s situation takes the ‘found family’ part more literally and instead of experiencing happiness he gets moulded into a child soldier…. yaaaay…

So then why does Gibeon actually need Amethio? Aside from the obvious meta reason, it’s likely Gibeon speculated someone with his blood could function as a Lucius detector (the pendant only stopped being dormant after amethio came into close contact) and this is also one of the reasons Amethio gets booted off the mission as he’d already performed his purpose of confirming the pendant was related to Lucius. Perhaps there’s something about Amethio’s ancestry which doesn’t apply to Gibeon that’s important? Or maybe Gibeon just put an easily exploitable child to good use.

Either way, there really isn’t a happy explanation for Amethio’s circumstances. Poor guy :(

I’ll potentially be eating my own words in a few months when we learn more about Gibeon and Amethio’s relationship but hey it never hurts to theorise. Hopefully we learn more stuff soon and that Amethio doesn’t get locked into off screen jail for another 11 weeks 💀💀

#pokemon horizons #amethio #anipoke #pokemon liko #anipoke spoilers #pokemon lucius #pokemon gibeon #pokemon horizons spoilers

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