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#the carpet would get wet. or the floor
squirmydonnie · 4 months
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Haha lookit
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torpublishinggroup · 10 months
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"5 Tips for Dating a Werewolf" by TJ Klune
1. If a werewolf has locked onto your scent, it is best to let them get as much of it as they can. If they are in shifted form, it might mean a wet nose to your face or a tongue in your hair. Fear not! They are, in a way, like a large dog, if a large dog were capable of human wants and whims. If you find yourself in such a position, do not move! Let the werewolf finish its scent-marking. It could take anywhere from five minutes to six days, so get comfortable!
2. Should you find yourself in possession of a dead animal left upon your doorstep, don’t scream and/or vomit! Chances are, it is from the same werewolf who sniffed you, wanting to make sure you are provided for. This is how a lycanthrope expresses interest. Be careful not to offend the wolf, as they might be watching from behind a tree or a bush. If you are averse to blood and gore, pretend someone dropped a cherry pie filled with bones on your porch.
(On the off chance that the dead animal was left by a cult and not a werewolf, please be prepared in case you are marked for a ritual sacrifice.)
3. Going on a date with a werewolf can be a fun event! Given that you might be in public, it would be best not to ask your werewolf suitor to “shift in the middle of an Applebee’s just to see if it scares the server into giving free appetizers.” While many people enjoy mozzarella sticks (especially when given under threat of fangs), using your werewolf in such a way to get fried cheese is considered bad form. Your werewolf has feelings, and no one likes to be used.
(If your werewolf does shift to get you cheese, reward them by telling them you think they are the greatest creature in existence. Positive reinforcement goes a long way!)
4. Uh oh. Your werewolf has driven you home, arches a single, devastating eyebrow, and says, “Are you going to invite me inside?”
Remember, werewolves aren’t vampires, meaning they do not need permission to enter your residence. However, good wolves always wait for permission before entering a dwelling that is not their own.
In this case, given the arched eyebrow, the werewolf is hoping to be invited inside for “adult activities.” This might include rolling on the carpet or having sex in the kitchen and/or up against a wall. If you choose to do this, you might see the werewolf’s eyes flashing. Good news! This means the wolf is having a wonderful time.
5. Your wolf stayed the night! How lucky are you? If you wake up the next morning with the shifter lying on top of you, it is very important that you do not move until they have decided to move on their own. Waking up a sleeping wolf can sometimes be difficult work, but if you keep a squeaky ball next to your bed, now is the time to put it to good use. Squeeze it near the wolf’s ear and ask, “Who’s a good boy? Who wants to play with the ball? Is it you? Is it you?” Your wolf will most likely glower at you and threaten your life, but if you squeeze the ball three times, the wolf will be distracted. Throw it to the floor, and as the wolf chases after it, consider making waffles! Werewolves love waffles.
(God help you if you make pancakes. You have been warned.)
If you have survived these first five steps, you are to be commended! That means you most likely will have a werewolf for the rest of your life. A werewolf is a commitment. Adopt, don’t shop!
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januaryembrs · 19 days
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CROSS MY HEART | Spencer Reid x wife!Reader
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Request: read here
description: Spencer's wife struggles with the aftermath of JJ's confession
length: 1.5k
warnings: JJ's 14x15 confession spoilers (big ick, pull yourself together Jennifer) infidelity, thoughts of worthlessness, reader thinks Spencer is going to leave her for JJ.
authors note: I have loved JJ for all of fourteen seasons and fourteen episodes. this was a BIG ICK for me watching this won't lie
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She should have known something was wrong the minute they left that damn store. 
It took her all of two seconds to throw herself into her husband’s arms, her voice choked with tears that had threatened to spill when she’d seen the video of Casey shooting at him, and she swore Spencer had never grabbed her so tight. 
“I thought you,” She sniffled, running her fingers through the back of his scalp, the entire spanse of his huge hands ran along her spine, counting every vertebra to make sure she was still intact, despite the fact he had been the one held hostage, “I thought he’d shot you- it came so close,” 
He hushed her mewls, a hand reaching to the back of her head and tucked her into his neck further, the sob rattling through her ribcage almost, almost, taking his mind entirely off what JJ had said in that stupid game of truth or dare. 
What the fuck did she mean she had always loved him? She had a husband and children who doted on her; Will, who loved every shred of her being like it was his only purpose in the world. His godsons who had known him as uncle Spencer since he’d held them in the hospital, covered in goop and looking like the cutest little aliens he’d ever seen. 
And yet JJ, his friend, perhaps one of his longest friends, was willing to throw it away for him? He, who had a wife he adored more than there were birds in the wind, leaves on an Autumn floor, more than there were galaxies in the damn cosmos. His wife, who had been there for him since the moment they’d met, who he’d known was the one since that first day she’d ran into him in the lobby, their files mixing together because neither of them had been watching where they were going, like one of those romcoms she forced him to watch and he pretended to hate, or like the silly thing she called fate that she insisted was very much real. 
Spencer was a man of statistics and numbers and facts; things he could see. But he was sure there was nothing in any textbook that could have ever made sense of how the one person so perfectly created for him, the blob of cells that made up his wife that seemed to call to his own as if they were coming home to one another, would have just so happened to bump into him on a random Tuesday in August. 
Most people waited decades for that kind of love, or something close, and he’d managed to get it at the ripe age of thirty three. 
And yet in the space of ten seconds, of four little words in a wretched game, he felt like the carpet had been pulled from beneath him. Because why would JJ, who saw as clearly as anyone else how much he cherished his wife and the future they were planning together, try to take that away from him?
And as if his own odd spiral of thoughts wasn’t a kick to the gut enough, his sweet wife had quickly released him from her grasp and thrown herself at JJ, who seemed to just now be understanding the gravity of her words as she looked around with wide eyes, tear stains wetting her cheeks, the guilt gnawing in her gut already. 
“JJ! Are you okay? Oh, you poor thing, you must have been so scared,” She sobbed, wrapping her friend in a loving hug that was shakily reciprocated, like JJ was waiting for the second she would get a fat shiner to the nose for confessing such a thing. 
But that never happened. Instead, she pulled away from the frozen blonde woman, who looked like she could burst into tears then and there and apologise for everything until her face turned blue, and ran a kind hand over the JJ's hair, stroking it behind her ear tenderly as she tried to quell her cries because she wasn't the one who had been held at gunpoint. 
She didn’t know. It hit them both at the same time. She didn’t know what JJ had said, hadn’t even got an inkling into what had happened, and god did it make the sinking feeling in Spencer’s chest swallow itself up into something the size of the Mariana Trench. 
And what was left, what had for a second been a horrid mix of confusion, shock, fear and then another big dollop of confusion for good measure, quickly was dragged away by the current and replaced with anger. 
Anger that JJ could do something like this to his wife; he frankly didn’t care how her words had affected him, that if he had been single he would have been left feeling unworthy of her affection the first time it had been offered around, like there was something so disgustingly wrong with him this was what it took for her to say anything. He didn’t care about any of that. He cared that this would absolutely destroy his wife. 
And it was for that reason Spencer hurried the paramedics into fixing the small graze on his palm as he watched with boiling blood his wife tend to JJ like she would any other time her close friend was hurt in the field. He seethed whenever Jennifer would simper and avoid her friend's eyes, how his beautiful, caring, devoted wife would stroke the woman’s back and will her to talk, to tell her what to do to make it better.
Because it was her who should be fussing over his sweet wife, certainly not the other way around. 
But he couldn’t say that, not there at least, and so he didn’t, not until he had got the greenlight from the medics to leave and he had all but cut off the circulation in her fingers with how tight he’d held her hand as he led her to the car. 
Spencer said nothing, not wanting to fight when she forced him to sit shotgun as she climbed behind the wheel, not wanting to cause a commotion when there was a much bigger bombshell he was sitting on that he knew would change her feelings entirely. 
-
“What?” Her voice was soft still, a murmur in the quiet night air of their bedroom. She sat, fresh faced, minty breathed, kevlar vest long gone and replaced with one of his old Dr Who shirts and comfy bottoms.
She said the word again, like she hadn’t heard him, but judging by the way her expression had fallen into something dejected, he knew that wasn’t the case. 
Sighing, drawing gentle motions up and down her legs with his warm hands, shuffled closer where he kneeled down in front of her submittingly. “JJ said that she has always loved me; that was her ‘truth’ in the game,”
“Well, she-she was lying right?” His wife said quickly, her voice shaking, trying to make sense of it herself. She didn’t get an answer right away, just her husband’s eyes casting down as he tried to think of the best thing to say, “Right, Spencer?” 
“I don’t know,” He said earnestly, and he saw immediately the way tears sprung to her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, her face warming in wet-anger, “But it doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter, to me- baby, please don’t cry,”
“Ofcourse it changes things, Spencer, it’s JJ. She’s literally the hottest woman to walk the earth, Pen said you were like in love with her when you started the BAU, and now you have your chance,” She whimpered, fat tears rolling over her freshly moisturised cheeks, and he swore he felt his chest concave at her words. 
“My chance? I don’t want a chance, I want you,” Spencer said in earnest, his hands rubbing further and further up her legs until his hands went under her night shirt, grabbing onto the soft of her hips with pleading tenderness, “I want you forever, no matter what JJ or any other woman feels about me,” 
She sniffled pitifully, her eyes still unsure and he took it as a sign she needed more, so he leaned in fully to hug her to him. 
“But it’s JJ,” She said again, like that was going to change anything, and he shook his head, stroking over the back of her hair softly.
“I don't care,” He said, and she sniffed gently into the crook of his neck, his skin wetting with the contact. She finally wrapped her arms around him, and he knew he was close to getting it through to her, “I had the smallest crush on JJ, what, fifteen years ago? Honey, I want you for the rest of my life, and nothing and no one is going to change my mind about that, not even you.” 
“Really?” His sweet wife whispered tearfully, and he chuckled sadly, hating how hard she had cried that it had ripped the life from her voice. 
“Cross my heart,” He kissed her hairline softly, tipping her head upwards with one long, warm finger under her chin, pressing a gentle kiss to her wetted lips, “Hope I never die,”
She smiled sorrowfully, kissing her husband as if it was the last time she could ever do so, hoping it made up for how puffy and ugly her tears had made her face. But he didn’t care, he never had, he thought she was perfect just the way she was.
And he’d remind her of that any time she thought otherwise. 
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cobrakaisb · 3 months
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always an angel, never a god
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summary: the aftermath of luke’s failed quest to the garden of the hesperides includes a dirty motel, a new wound, and sharing a bed with his best friend. 
word count: 2.8k
featuring: ONE BED TROPE, set pre-tlt, luke and reader both have crushes on each other, lowkey hurt-comfort, mentions of injuries/getting injured, death, angst with a tiny bit of fluff
“let’s just stop here for the night, then we can keep moving,” you begged, standing in the motel parking lot. luke was weary, eyeing the property distrustfully. “it doesn’t look safe,” he mumbled, hand fisting the strap of his worn blue backpack so tightly that his knuckles were white. “please,” you whispered, eyes shining with tears. it had been a rough couple of days, especially with the major losses you’d both suffered. 
“just until tomorrow morning,” you begged. he sighed, but nodded his head. you exhaled a breath of relief, as your forehead came to rest on his shoulder. he stiffened, but relaxed under your soft touch. your lips ghosted against his shoulder, as you planted a soft, barely-there kiss on the faded green cloth. luke’s fingers gently brushed against the back of your hand, wrapping around your wrist. you lift your head from his shoulder, lacing your fingers together, and lead him towards the motel lobby. 
it’s clearly rundown; the carpet floors are dirty and the room reeks of mildew and sweat, but neither of you complain. you're just happy to have access to a bed and a shower. luke walks up to the check in desk, ringing the small bell to alert the employee(s) that someone was here. a few minutes pass by, but then an older man comes out from the back room. he looks hesitantly between the two before asking, “can i help you folks?”
“we’d like a room please. just for tonight,” you explain, squeezing luke’s hand a little tighter as the man continues to stare you two down. you can’t imagine what you look like to him: bruised, battered, bleeding, and crying. not to mention luke’s face; the wound was still open and dripping blood every few seconds. you’d done what you could on the road to help stop the bleeding, but the only real way to heal it was going to be with stitches and deep disinfectant.      
“just your luck, we have one room left,” he smiles, inputting something in the system before handing you a key. you smile tightly at him, feeling the tension in luke’s shoulders seeping into your bones. why would there only be one room left if the parking lot was empty? “thanks so much,” you replied, leading luke out of the lobby and towards your room on the second floor. 
“i really don’t like it here,” he grumbled, setting his bag down on the floor once you entered the room. you toed off your worn out black converse, locking the door behind you as you rolled your eyes. “it’s just one night. besides we need to rest and regroup now that…” you started to say, but ended up pausing. it hurts to mention her; the wound in your heart is still fresh. you swallow, taking a deep breath before turning to luke, “let’s take care of your face.” 
he nods, wordlessly following you into the bathroom. he watches as you grab the first aid kit from the backpack and turn on the hot water. he waits patiently, occasionally admiring you, while you wet one of the few provided face clothes. “this might sting,” you whispered as you began to clean away at the blood and grime caked onto his cheek. he winces, gripping onto you for support. 
“it’s okay. you’re okay. i’m almost done,” you said, trying to soothe him. instead of watching your motions, he looks at your face. your eyes, ones which normally shone bright with joy, were dull; the vibrant colors muted by your sadness. he wondered if you felt pity for him and his failure, or if you were still coping. this quest wasn’t meant to be a three person one, but you refused to let him partake in the challenge alone. he couldn't help but blame his dad for your sorrows; everything always came back to the gods.
“can you sit down on the toilet for me? i want to clean the cut, and i need a better vantage point,” you explained, putting the towel on the side of the sink as you opened the first aid kit. he complied to your orders, taking a seat on the closed toilet. he waited with bated breath, as you dug around in the kit, looking for whatever it was you needed. finally, you made eye contact with him, a small smile on your face as you held up a cotton ball and bottle of peroxide. 
luke groans, throwing his head back in frustration. “no, absolutely not,” he mumbled, moving his head away from you. he froze, however, when your palm rested against his uninjured cheek. “please luke, i don’t want it to get infected,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with emotion. his brown eyes meet yours; they’re swimming with worry. “okay,” he relaxes, rolling his shoulders back to release some of the tension in them. you smile softly, trying your best to be reassuring as you remove your hand from his cheek to pour a small amount of peroxide onto the cotton. 
“this is going to sting,” you warned. luke takes a deep breath, and subtly nods for you to continue. as gently as possible, you begin to clean the deep wound running from his eye to his jaw. luke hisses, his right hand gripping onto your thigh. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” you mumbled, but you continued your ministrations. luke doesn’t answer, simply gritting his teeth and keeping a hold on your thigh. after a few more swipes, you pause to inspect the wound. your hand grips his jaw, and you turn his face to the right; satisfied with your work, you throw the used items in the small garbage.
he watches as your attention focuses back on the first aid kit. you’re digging through the small red box, searching for the required items to stitch up his face. despite his dire situation, the crushing weight of worthlessness and embarrassment, and his most likely infected wound, he couldn’t help but feel serene. being here with you was exactly what he needed; you were all that he needed. 
“okay so i have the needle and thread. do you want to shower first? otherwise you won’t be able to,” you explained, moving back to stand between his legs. luke’s hands came to rest on the small of your back, fingers creeping under the hem of your tee shirt. “i’ll shower, then you can stitch me up,” he agreed, humming softly as you absentmindedly twirled one of his black curls around your finger. “perfect. i’ll be right outside,” you whispered, trying to step out of his hold, but his arms just tightened around you. 
“stay,” he pleaded, brown eyes widening. you sighed, a conflicted look in your eyes. “i can’t lose you,” he whispered. “i won’t lose you,” he continued, resting his head against your abdomen. you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. everything was getting to be too much, on the both of you. “i’m not going anywhere angel, i promise,” you replied, fingers carding through his hair in a feeble attempt to soothe him. he lets out a shaky breath in response, and you can feel his tears seeping through your tee shirt. 
“it’s okay. i’m right here,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice from cracking. your fingers still card through his hair as you lean down and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. this whole quest has been a pot of emotions, and it seems like it’s finally boiled over the edge, for both you and luke. you want to let your guard down, and crumple to the floor and sob, but you don’t. luke needs you right now. 
a few minutes pass by, but he calms down. he sits up straight, arms still holding you in a vice grip. “i’m sorry,” he mumbled, and you aren’t sure what he’s apologizing for. “there’s nothing to apologize for. i’m here to support you, whatever that looks like,” you explained, cupping his jaw with a small reassuring smile on your face. “will you just sit outside the door? i need to know you’re there,” he said, reverting back to the original conversation. “whatever you want,” you answered. once the words leave your mouth, his arms unravel from your waist. you step back, giving him room to stand. he pulls you right into his chest. “we’ll talk later,” he promised, waiting for your hum of agreement to let go.
“shower. you reek,” you teased, trying to bring some joy back into the depressing atmosphere. he finally cracks a smile as he pretends to smell his underarms. “a shower is a good call,” he agreed, lightly pushing you towards the door, a sign that he wants to get changed. you obliged, leaving the room just as the sound of gushing water arises. 
luke takes his time in the shower, letting the water drip down his clean body. he knows you’re sitting right outside the door, just like you promised, because he could hear your soft humming and mutterings. he was angry, and he refused to let that anger out on you. instead, it stews inside of him; all the resentment, annoyance, and disappointment. he was supposed to come back a hero, they all were. instead, he’s returning a failure, and with one less friend. he thinks about his father, who recycled a quest from the history lessons at camp and refused to help. he thinks of you, his pillar of strength. he thinks of beth, hoping that she reached elysium, where she belonged. his mind wanders back to camp half-blood, and the faces of his siblings and all the unclaimed children fill him with dread. what will they think, now that they’re head counselor failed?
“are you almost done?” you asked, pulling him from the depths of his mind. he shakes his head gently, water spraying from his soaked curls. “just finishing up,” he answered, turning the water off. “i put your pajamas on the sink,” you replied, closing the door so he has some semblance of privacy. “thanks,” he answered, and the sound of the opening curtain muffled your reply. he takes a couple extra minutes to dry off and pull on his pants, purposefully leaving the shirt to the side. 
“okay i’m decent,” he shouted, and the door cracked open. he sees you standing there with your eyes closed, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “i told you i was decent!” he laughed, and you opened your eyes with a giggle. “i just had to make sure,” you replied, your usual smile encompassing your cheeks. he playfully shakes his head at your words. “whatever you say,” he said, and reclaimed his seat on the toilet lid. 
you took your spot between his legs, and his hands found their home on your waist. “this might hurt, and take a while because i have to go slow, but it’ll help you heal,” you said, holding up the needle with a shaky hand. luke grabbed your wrist, steadying the shaking. “hey, it’s gonna be fine. i trust you,” he mumbled, placing a soothing kiss on your palm. “i know, but i hate seeing you hurt,” you answered, taking a deep breath. finally, once you’ve calmed down, you begin stitching up the wound. luke remained still through the entire process, but you could see the pain in his eyes. in a matter of minutes, and with the quick snip of the scissors, you tied off the stitches. 
“done,” you announced, tapping on his forearm. luke thanks you, and gets you from his spot, admiring his reflection in the mirror. “handsome as ever,” you whispered, heat creeping up your cheeks when you realize he heard you. he blushes at your words, but still manages to throw a cocky smirk your way. he doesn’t comment on your words, instead he pushes you towards the shower. “get cleaned up so we can sleep,” he mumbled, closing the door on his way out. you’re frozen, forgetting how to function, but once you regroup, you take the time to shower. 
it’s longer than usual, but you deserved it after everything this quest has put you through. while you’re standing under the showerhead, letting the water wash over you in waves, you can’t help but blame yourself. everything that went wrong could be pinpointed back to you. you and beth were supposed to take care of the dragon, but you were distracted by your worry, turning to check on luke. in that split second, everything went downhill from there. you should have just remained focused, followed the plan, and none of this would have happened.
“i think you should get out of the shower now, before the motel sends us their water bill,” luke whispered, opening the door to the bathroom. you clear your throat, blinking harshly. were your cheeks wet from the water or tears? “i’ll be out in a minute,” you promised, and luke agreed. once the door closed, and you were back in the privacy of the bathroom, you stepped out of your sanctuary. it’s when you dried yourself off that you realize you forgot to grab your sleepwear, but thankfully luke had you covered. sitting on the bathroom counter were a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, along with your hairbrush. you felt yourself smiling gratefully at the gesture, and started your nightly routine. 
he heard the sound of the door opening before he saw you. you were wearing the clothes he’d laid out, and your hair was dripping wet, despite your efforts to dry it. you threw the towel on the floor, letting it sit in a sopping wet heap, before climbing into the bed. he didn’t think you’d comment on the fact that the motel manager seemed to be playing matchmaker, and he was right. you lied down silently, pulling the covers up to your chest as you turned to face him. 
“it’s all my fault,” you whispered, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. luke’s eyebrows furrowed, and a confused look took over his previously serene face. “what?” he replied, uncertainly. “everything with beth, your scar, the quest. it’s all my fault,” you continued. he was baffled by the fact that you genuinely believed that. something of this caliber, of his undoing, was not your fault. “why would you think that?” he asked, genuine curiosity present in his tone. “i was supposed to distract the dragon, we both were, but i was nervous. i looked away for just a second, and the dragon maimed beth. then came for you,” you answered, voice cracking and shaking. luke’s hand cupped your cheek, wiping away at the lone tear before it could drip down the bridged of your nose. 
“beth died a hero, she knew what she was signing up for,” he whispered, thumb rubbing over the apple of your cheek. he wanted to reassure you that none of it was your fault, that nobody would blame you for what happened, that he didn’t blame you. “the blame doesn’t fall on you,” luke continued, staring softly into your eyes. “never,” he finished, kissing the tip of your nose. 
“but she’s gone. and your quest…” you trailed off, more tears brimming at your water line. “my quest was stupid anyway,” he replied, pulling you closer to him. ��it was never serious. not to him,” and luke didn’t need to specify who the him was. “but it was important to you,” you said, finally meeting his brown eyes, “so it was important to me.” luke sighed at your words, his eyelashes fanning his cheekbones. “you’re the most important thing to me angel. i’ve stopped craving his approval long before this,” luke explained. 
he wished that he kept his closed so that he didn’t have to see the shocked look on your face. or the pity flashing behind your eyes. he knew, deep-down, that you didn’t pity him, you just felt bad for everything he’s faced. you felt guilty for the relationship with your parent, when he had none.
“he loves you luke, you must know that. maybe not as much as i do, but there has to be some compassion there,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled your foreheads together. “nobody can love me as much as you do,” luke whispered, lips ghosting over your skin from the proximity. “of course not, angel,” you answered, closing your eyes. he knew the stress of the quest and day was taking over you, so he let you fall into the arms of hypnos. 
when you were really asleep, he whispered the words he’d been dying to say: “i love you.” 
the way i am not strong enough to be your man // always an angel, never a god
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 
“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you. 
You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”
There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.
“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”
“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”
The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly. 
“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”
You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.  
You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”
You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette. 
Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown. 
Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”
You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing. 
“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”  
“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”
“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”
Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend. 
“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”
You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something. 
You wondered if he’d find it. 
“Not everyone?” You whispered. 
“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”
Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be. 
“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”
Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact. 
The silence was too loud now. 
“I could show you, if you wanted.”
Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes. 
He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”
The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”
You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air. 
“Show me.”
You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour. 
He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle. 
He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls. 
A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out. 
You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him. 
He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.
Dizzy. You felt dizzy. 
“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer. 
You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough. 
“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?” 
You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too. 
“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”
“Wait.”
Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”
“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”
You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”
Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that… thing, again. 
I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason. 
He simply pressed his lips to yours. 
It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own. 
He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar. 
You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper. 
After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”
“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”
You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—” 
Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own. 
He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning. 
“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 
“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”
Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”
“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”
“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”
Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position. 
“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”
‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he  had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”
You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”
Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin. 
“Kiss me.”
 So you did. 
You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own. 
It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise. 
“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak. 
“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”
He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else. 
“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower. 
You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you. 
“Yeah?” Was all you asked. 
“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”
You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours. 
“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question. 
Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control. 
You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch. 
You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder. 
And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home. 
You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed. 
You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before. 
Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 
And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.
“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”
3K notes · View notes
miclipse · 21 days
Text
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ YOUR ROMAN EMPIRE.
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characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, michael kaiser (separate).
sypnosis: things he did that you often think about.
word count: 5.3k (~1.0k each)
cw: afab! reader, sfw, established relationships, nicknames used (baby, gorgeous, meine liebe, good girl, pretty girl), pre-wildcard! kunigami, mentions of period (rin's), kaiser being a smug bastard & also soft.
note: first time writing for the blue lock boys <3 comments appreciated!
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ᯓ★ isagi yoichi ᝰ.ᐟ
“does it still hurt alot, baby?”
isagi, who was kneeled in front of you as you sat on the couch, continued pressing the ice pack against your swollen ankle.
his other hand was supporting the heel of your foot as he gently rotated it in circular motions to help ease the pain in the muscles.
your boyfriend lifted his head up to take a look at your expression, worried that the pain of your sprained ankle might be too unbearable for you if he didn't handle it carefully enough.
“a little… but it's getting better…” you mumbled out softly, feeling increasingly guilty the longer you watched isagi kneel in front of you and tend to what you could only call the consequences of your own actions.
“we have a treadmill at home for a reason. why'd you insist on taking a run outside when the ground was still all slippery and wet?” isagi's voice was soft and gentle, soothing the guilt in your heart slightly.
you thought isagi would've gotten mad at you, but he was still as loving and worried for you as ever despite all of this being your own fault.
it had rained earlier this morning, which isagi had already warned you about via text since he was away for his usual soccer practice.
but stubborn little you insisted that the rain would not interfere with your routine evening jog. you figured the damp floors would have dried up by the time you stepped out of the house.
oh, how very wrong you were.
in your defence, majority of the jog went smoothly. the problem only arose when you were about to make the final turn back to the familiar stretch of road that would lead back to your and isagi's shared apartment.
for some reason while you were turning the corner, your foot slipped. as an attempt to catch yourself before you fell face first into the cold hard concrete, your ankle twisted and ended up in an uncomfortable position.
you had to bite your tongue to hold yourself back from screaming due to the sudden sharp and piercing pain coming from your ankle.
when you finally managed to limp your way back to your front porch, you figured you could simply just eat some painkillers and sleep off the pain before your boyfriend got back from training.
but to your absolute horror and misfortune, the moment you opened the front door, you caught sight of your beloved boyfriend walking out from the kitchen with a cup of water in his hand.
the moment isagi saw you limping back through the front door in your sports attire, he immediately placed his cup on the kitchen island and rushed to your side to support you as he brought you to the couch to sit down.
“yeah, well… i thought the ground would've mostly dried up by the time i went out for my jog.” you gave isagi a sheepish and apologetic smile.
“well too bad, you thought wrong. and now look who's the one with a sprained ankle, hmm?” isagi continued to tease you with a soft chuckle, finally removing the ice pack from your inflamed ankle and placing the melted bag of gel down on the carpet.
“so? think you can stand up and walk on your own now?” isagi asked, lightly tracing circles on the bottom of your foot, leaving behind a ticklish sensation that got your foot to twitch and squirm in response.
seeing how your foot was flinching away from isagi's gentle touches, he merely smirked in amusement.
“not really, no.” you laughed, happy to keep things light-hearted despite the fact that you probably wouldn't be able to walk without support for the next few days.
but fret not. isagi was here to be your knight in shining armour, like how he always had been ever since you both started dating.
“do i need to push you around in a wheelchair like those elderly couples?” isagi joked, scooting himself closer to the side of the couch to get closer to you whilst he was still squatting down on the ground.
“well yeah, obviously. you don't expect me to roll around on the floor, do you?” you playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics, watching as he reached out to grasp your hand in his.
his thumb traced small, comforting circles on the back of your hand, making you sigh out in satisfaction at how lucky you were to have isagi yoichi as your boyfriend.
a smile graced his lips. not the kind of smile he had whenever he scored a goal, or the kind of smile he gave to his teammates and friends. it was a smile that was solely reserved only for you.
isagi reached his other hand out to caress your cheek, lightly pinching it as a way to show his absolute affection and devotion towards you.
“don't worry. i’ll be the one to push your wheelchair. be it right now, or 60 years down the road.”
you never knew the words that left his lips would take you back to the days where you were falling head over heels for isagi yoichi all over again, but it did.
it had been months since you last felt your heart beat so rapidly against your chest and that queasy feeling of butterflies in your tummy.
those words may seem simple at first glance, but when you analyze it beneath the surface level, it held so much more meaning.
isagi was making a vow to you, promising to stay by your side through thick and thin. even when your youth was nothing but a distant memory, he would still choose you.
he wanted to spend his entire life with you, even if it meant he would have to be pushing your wheelchair around when you were all old and wrinkly.
those words were isagi's true feelings for you,
and they have never left your mind ever since the day he said them to you. not that isagi would ever give you a chance to forget about them in the first place.
ᯓ★ bachira meguru ᝰ.ᐟ
“i’ve cut up some fruit!”
your boyfriend’s lively voice from the kitchen reached your ears as you sat in the living room couch, busily typing away on your laptop.
you resisted the urge to turn away from your laptop screen to reply to your boyfriend, instead choosing to continue typing away on your essay that was due today.
seeing as you did not reply, bachira held the bowl of fruits in his hand as he made his way towards you, who was so diligently working on your assignments.
“do you want some?” the happy boy leaned his face right in front of yours with a cheeky grin, knowing that his actions would get a reaction out of you, who had been ignoring him the past few hours or so.
and rightfully so— you knew better than anyone that if you were to shower bachira with even an ounce of affection, you would never be able to direct your focus back on the task at hand.
“mmm… i’ll eat it later. you can munch on some first.” you suggested absentmindedly, gently using your hand to push bachira’s face away out of your view so that you could focus on the half finished word document displayed on your laptop screen.
well, that did not work according to bachira’s plan.
seeing how you had been paying all your attention on your laptop for the past few hours made bachira a little (very) attention-starved. dating him was equivalent to having a golden retriever as a pet; both of them were very high maintenance beings.
bachira pouted at your dismissive attitude right now, but he understood that you really needed to finish this assignment before the clock struck midnight.
however, as unfortunate as it sounded, today was also one of the rare days where bachira’s training ended early and he was able to spend some proper quality time with you.
bachira let out a dissatisfied hum, the pout still on his lips as he contemplated what to do in order to achieve the goal of the day.
which was to gain your attention.
he looked back down into the fruit bowl he had prepared for the both of you to share, and it did not take long for the pout of his to turn into a mischievous smirk.
it took you a few moments longer than usual to realise bachira had fallen awfully silent. normally, he would not even give you an ounce of quiet, rambling on and on about anything and everything he could talk about to fill in the silence. yet you hadn’t heard him say anything after you told him to eat first.
it was your fault for not figuring out soon enough that whenever bachira fell silent, he was plotting something in his head.
because before you could even save the progress of your half-written essay to turn and look at your boyfriend, a piece of watermelon poked into a metal fork entered your line of sight, successfully enticing you.
blinking in surprise, you instinctively turned your head to look at the culprit with a raised eyebrow.
“meguru-”
“say ‘ahh’!” bachira knew you all too well, and so he cut you off before you could question what he was trying to do. “you do your report, and i feed you. how does that sound, gorgeous?” bachira added, nearing the fork of watermelon closer to your lips.
he gave you no chance to decline his offer, if you could even count it as that.
“...ahh…” eventually giving in to your boyfriend, you slowly parted your lips and took the watermelon in between your teeth, chewing down on the juicy fruit.
“how is it? does it taste sweet?” bachira asked with a wide and bright smile, wiping the watermelon juice that splattered on the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb.
you tried to hide how fast your heart was beating at the simple gesture. but seeing as how bachira started grinning from ear to ear, it didn't take a genius to know that he already noticed your rosy red cheeks.
“tastes yummy.” you remarked with a soft chuckle, turning your attention back to your laptop and typing away on your report. you were trying your best to ignore the loud thumping in your chest.
normally, bachira would have been more clingy and persistent about you paying attention to him, but today he acknowledged that this report was very important to you and played a huge part in your final grade.
thus, he chose to obediently sit by your side for moral support and feed you fruit as you worked away on finishing up your essay.
“mmm, you’re right, it is yummy!” your boyfriend agreed, popping a slice of watermelon in his mouth and chewing down on it. he kept this up, feeding you a piece of fruit and gently wiping away the juice on the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb before he fed himself a piece of fruit.
after a few minutes, it had finally come down to the very last slice of apple. bachira poked the apple with the metal fork, obviously planning to give you the last fruit in the bowl.
however, bachira’s mind was ever-functioning, and he managed to come up with yet another cheeky plan to surprise you.
“mind looking over for a second, gorgeous?” he called out to you with an innocent smile, waiting for you to stumble into his little trap.
“hmm? hold on.” you quickly typed out the last few words to finish up the sentence in your paragraph before finally turning to look at your boyfriend.
“yeah–?”
in a blink of an eye, bachira placed one end of the apple on your lips before placing the other end of the apple on his lips.
“what is this? the pocky challenge but with apples?” you joked, deciding to play along with bachira’s antics this time. you had ignored him for long enough, he deserved to get some affection from you. especially since he had been doing nothing but quietly sitting by your side and feeding you fruits.
“it’s a reward for working so hard.” bachira then took a big bite of the apple from his end. you followed suit until there was only a tiny chunk separating both your lips from each other.
“may i?” his whisper sounded almost pleading— he had restrained himself from clinging onto you as you worked on your assignment. but now that you were finally giving him your full attention, the boy was yearning for more.
“you may.” you reassured with a slight nod of your head, encouraging bachira to make the final move.
in which he did, biting down the last chunk of the apple before pressing his lips against yours.
it felt wonderful to have your lips moulded against his after being deprived from his affections for so long due to focusing on your essay. you chucked your laptop to the side of the couch, your arms snaking around his waist to make the kiss last longer.
perhaps a small break wouldn’t hurt...
ᯓ★ kunigami rensuke ᝰ.ᐟ
“oooh, what's going on there?”
the curiosity in you was building up when you noticed a crowd gathering just a distance away from the pathway kunigami and yourself were walking on.
as you pointed your index finger towards the crowd, kunigami turned his head to look in that direction before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“wanna go check it out?” he offered with a soft smile on his lips. you both had nothing important going on right now anyways. the two of you were just walking around the streets aimlessly and doing some window shopping to pass some time before you both would head for dinner.
“yeah!”
the way you chirped out happily in response, your eyes sparkling with excitement made kunigami's heart tighten with a certain fondness he couldn't exactly put into words.
before kunigami knew it, you were dragging him towards the crowd of people to see what all the commotion was about.
when the two of you were close enough, kunigami easily saw past the sea of crowd and his eyes eventually landed on a stage that was being setup with speakers and instruments, along with what seemed to be an amateur band preparing to perform.
“seems like it's a band performance. you interested to watch?” kunigami asked you. he had to raise his voice a little to beat the crowd’s volume, his eyes trailing back to look down at you.
oh.
your boyfriend was met with the sight of you standing on your tippy toes doing little subtle hops on the spot, trying to move your neck around to glance past the back of everyone’s heads, but unfortunately to no avail. you two were considered to be rather far back in the crowd, and everyone had a height advantage against you too.
sometimes kunigami would forget how short you were, or rather how tall he was as compared to you. things that he could easily do such as watching a performance at the back of a crowd was deemed as a challenge for his tiny and petite girlfriend.
kunigami was having an internal conflict with his inner voice on whether he should just push through the crowd so the both of you could make it to the very front of the stage (but also proceed to have a bunch of people glare at the two of you throughout the whole performance).
kunigami was the number one fan of everything being fair and square. and as much as he found the situation unfair for you, he also understood that it would be unfair to literally everyone else if he just rudely pushed through the crowd to get to the very front solely for your sake.
it wasn’t that kunigami would not do anything for you, he would give up anything and everything for you. but in situations like these where the universe was giving him a test on whether he should side with his morals or your happiness, he found himself stuck in the middle.
eventually, you turned to look up at your boyfriend, your soft lips jutting out to form a pout.
“rensuke, i can't see.” that sweet voice of yours would've sent kunigami into a deep trance if he was a weak-willed man.
the man pursed his lips together, desperately digging his brain for any ideas on how to ensure you got to see the performance without making the rest of the audience mad.
then, it was like something clicked in his head. like as if a tiny mouse living in his noggin just attached the two correct wires together and allowed kunigami’s brain to come up with the perfect solution that will make you happy and stick to his morals of ensuring everything was fair and square.
moving his hand down to ruffle your hair affectionately, kunigami then proceeded to crouch down in front of you, his back now facing towards you.
the action made you stunned into place, staring at kunigami’s toned back in disbelief and confusion. “rensuke?” you called out, prompting him to provide some sort of explanation for his action.
“i’ll piggyback you. that way, you'll be able to see the performance, right?” kunigami asked, trying his very hardest to sound as calm as he could. he would die if you saw through just how flustered he was feeling at the moment.
kunigami was often deemed as a scary delinquent due to his built figure in addition to his height being a whopping 6’2, but only a rare few properly understood that he was nothing but a life-sized teddy bear.
and you were the only one that would ever get this special treatment from him.
when kunigami felt your plush thighs press against his neck and shoulders, he grabbed onto your lower calves to ensure you were steady on his back before he slowly stood up to his full height again.
“can you see the stage?” kunigami asked you with a small smile on his face. he could feel many pairs of eyes looking towards the two of you, but he couldn't blame them. he was the only one among the crowd that was carrying a girl on his shoulders.
although you were not used to the stares accompanied by a couple of girls gushing over how cute your boyfriend was to be openly carrying his girlfriend on his shoulders, you were filled with a sense of pride when hearing people whisper about what a good boyfriend kunigami was.
“i can see the world.” you joked, but you sounded amazed by the view. it was your first time getting such a clear view of everything you desired like it was a piece of cake.
“is this how it feels to view the world through your eyes, rensuke?” a soft giggle slipped through those soft lips of yours as you hugged your legs tighter around his neck to ensure that you would not fall off (but also making sure not to accidentally suffocate him in the process too).
“perhaps. but i wish you could see what i see whenever i look at you.” kunigami responded with a playful grin.
your heart skipped a beat at his words, suddenly feeling all giddy and floaty on the inside.
oh, how lucky you were to call this man yours.
ᯓ★ itoshi rin ᝰ.ᐟ
the familiar sound of the front door being opened was accompanied by your boyfriend's monotonous voice.
the words that escaped his mouth seemed habitual and subconscious, and you wouldn't doubt that he would still say the same exact thing even if you weren't around to receive his greeting.
“i'm home.”
you immediately sat up from the couch with a smile, turning to glance at your boyfriend so that you could return his greeting.
“welcome home, rin!” your enthusiastic response was something rin could never dream of getting tired of. no matter how many times this scene unfolded in front of him, it never failed to warm that stone-cold heart of his.
it just seemed to fulfill that hidden desire of his to finally feel loved and be appreciated by someone.
but of course, he would rather take this little secret of his down to the grave with him than ever letting you know about it.
“thanks.” rin responded, trying to seem nonchalant about your response. he had barely given a reaction to it for the past year, so why should he now?
“oh, what's that? did someone give you a gift for winning your game today?” rin used the back of his foot to gently kick the door shut behind him as you spoke, pointing at the basket in his hands out of curiosity.
“no, i bought these.” rin rolled his eyes at you. what made you think he would be accepting gifts from anyone other than his girlfriend? he wasn't that much of a sucker for attention from other girls.
before you could follow up with a second question on what was in the basket that looked to be stuffed to the brim with items, rin walked towards you and shoved the basket right in your face.
looking at rin with a raised eyebrow, you held the basket with both your hands and took a look in it, wondering what could rin possibly have bought for the basket to be looking so full yet barely having any weight to it.
inside, there were tampons and pads arranged neatly on the left side of the basket. it was plenty to last you for the next three to four months or so. and the right side was stuffed to the brim with chocolates and sweets that you remembered mentioning to rin about them being your favourite.
and if that wasn't jaw dropping enough, there was also a cute little teddy bear in the basket, staring right back at you with its cute little beady eyes and a cartoon smile.
“you're going to attract flies into your mouth. close up.” rin commented, scoffing in amusement at your reaction to his small gesture. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to remain as indifferent as he could.
but if you took a closer look at him, you would realise that the tips of his ears held a faint red hue to them.
“but rin… what's this for? my period isn't even here yet.” you looked up at him with your stupidly wide eyes that could compare to a puppy's. seriously, sometimes rin wondered how you looked more like a dog than a human.
“yeah, but it's in two days, is it not?” that was a rhetorical question.
it wasn't that rin was genuinely asking whether your period was coming in two days, he knew. he was just telling you in a way that would make him feel like he held the upper hand against you, especially when it came to your own body.
he just wanted to challenge you to prove him wrong, as he always did. his confidence was always sky high— but rightfully so (in his opinion).
you blinked in surprise, grabbing your phone and unlocking it to check your period tracker. you had been losing track of time due to how busy you were that you hadn't even realised that rin was right. your period was coming in two days.
“how'd you know that?” you asked him back, seeming shocked that rin bothered to remember your monthly shark week. you were convinced he barely cared about dates that were not as important to him like anniversaries and your birthday.
“you think you're the only one with a period tracker app? i have it too.” rin answered, sounding as calm and nonchalant as he always did.
come on, it wouldn't hurt for him to show even an ounce of emotion. it was already so painfully obvious how much he loved and cared for you, it wouldn't bring any harm to be nice to you every now and then, would it?
“you're such a creep.” you tried to tease him in a serious tone, biting back the smile that threatened to show on your face. you were trying to get him to show his rare soft side.
but rin was one step ahead of you. he knew you better than the back of his hand, and he didn't hesitate to tease you back.
“i’ll take it as you don't want my gift then. might as well give it to another girl who'll appreciate it more than this ungrateful brat.” as if to entice even more of a reaction out of you, rin slowly edged his hand closer to the basket, threatening to take it away from you.
“what?! no! don't you dare!” you gasped, immediately hugging the basket protectively like it was your newborn baby.
that was exactly the reaction rin wanted out of you.
his cold facade was unable to further resist your cuteness and started to crumbled as a faint smirk ghosted his lips.
his hand that was once edging towards your basket (technically his, since he was the one that paid for everything) moved towards the top of your head to ruffle your hair.
silence filled the room, and you looked up at rin patiently with an anticipating smile on your face, waiting for him to finally say the words he had been holding back all this while.
“ i... i love you.” he eventually whispered out with a defeated sigh, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “don't ever forget that, ‘kay?”
rin knew he was bad at expressing his emotions. but he wanted to make sure to remind you from time to time that his feelings for you would never change. not now, not ever.
ᯓ★ michael kaiser ᝰ.ᐟ
“come.” kaiser patted his lap, a coy smirk on his lips as his sapphire eyes observed your figure standing by the bedroom door, not moving despite his command. “hurry up meine liebe, i don't have all day.”
those words were what finally made you obediently walk towards where kaiser was seated at; the chair just by the vanity table you both shared.
he rested his hand on the vanity table, rhythmically drumming his index finger on the surface of the table as his eyes remained fixated on you.
kaiser was a bold individual, and it was something you both hated and loved simultaneously.
he never tried to hide the fact how his eyes were always lingering on your body, staring at you like you were the next prey he wanted to devour.
even now, he watched intensely as your hips swayed from side to side while you walked across the bedroom to make your way towards him.
it was almost like you were strutting into the lion's den, volunteering to be his next meal.
and even as you finally lowered your hips and straddled his lap, kaiser didn't look away from you for even a second, the smirk on his face only growing more smug and cocky.
“you’re so cute, i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose to seduce me or not.” kaiser couldn't help but tease you, noting how your cheeks were rosy and the way you were trying to avoid his intense stare.
“quit it, mihya. didn't you say you were in a hurry?” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. it left you all weak and flustered, and you knew that kaiser took pleasure in seeing how he had the upper hand against you everytime.
you were nothing but a little mouse the lion planned to toy with for amusement before he eventually wolfed you down in his stomach.
“the emperor chooses his next move.” kaiser pointed his index finger at your cheek, slowly inching closer before gently giving you a little poke. “not you.”
despite his words, kaiser moved his hand away from your face to stop messing with you as he was not lying about being short of time.
his hand felt around the vanity table, before coming into contact with just the object he needed.
using his free arm to wrap around your waist to keep you steady in his lap, kaiser brought the eyeliner pen to his lips, using his teeth to bite the cover off before securing it on the back of the pen.
“be a good girl and sit still for me, hmm? i don't have time to redo it if you make me mess up.” typical of kaiser to push the blame onto you if he messed up. he was an egoist, thus his mistakes were never his. it was always someone else's.
he kept his hand steady as he moved the eyeliner closer to your face. once the tip of the red tinted pen was close enough to your skin, you closed your eyes so that kaiser could have an easier time applying it on you.
“you're so adorable for wanting to match with me, you know that meine liebe?” kaiser chuckled, using short and gentle strokes to draw the eyeliner onto your eyelids, just like how he would to himself every morning before he started his day. “you'll look gorgeous once i’m done with you, i promise.”
the room fell into a comfortable after kaiser's reassurance, as kaiser decided to direct his full focus on helping you apply the eyeliner. he didn't want to risk messing up.
afterall, he wouldn't have time to help you redraw it due to him having to rush to practice right after this.
you could feel goosebumps surfacing on your skin when you felt kaiser's hot breath hit your cheek. no doubt that he was intentionally leaning in closer to you just so he could get a reaction out of you, as he always did.
you could picture it in your head: his head tilted in an angle, his eyes squinted in concentration while gently drawing on your eyelids. it felt so comforting that you felt like you could fall asleep on his lap, but you resisted the urge to do so.
the sensation of kaiser stroking the eyeliner against your eyelids stopped, before the sound of him popping the cap back on the pen was heard.
“open your eyes, pretty girl. we're all done.” kaiser placed the eyeliner back in the drawer, his other arm still securely keeping you on his lap by holding your waist.
when you opened your eyes, kaiser's face was just inches away from yours. your eyes widened slightly at how close he was to you, trying to remain your composure.
the cocky smirk on his lips proved that he did this on purpose to entice a reaction out of you. before you could resist, your boyfriend leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your lips.
“take a look in the mirror, liebe. don't you just look so beautiful?” kaiser whispered huskily in your ear, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger and guiding your face to turn towards the mirror on the vanity table.
you took a closer look at the reflection in front of you. you, sitting intimately on kaiser's lap whilst he had an arm slung around your waist and the both of you having matching red eyeliners. it looked…
“perfect.” you whispered it out loud without realising.
“oh? what was that?” kaiser leaned his ear closer to your mouth, taunting you to speak up so that he could hear you say it again, but louder.
“i said it looks perfect.” you replied without hesitation, and kaiser seemed satisfied by your obedience today. it was always a nice sight whenever you played along with his annoying and teasing nature.
“and you're perfect for me, liebe.” your boyfriend moved his hand to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the fat of it. “you don't understand how grateful i am to have you by my side.”
and you could just about say the same thing about him.
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hxltic · 3 months
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i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
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You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.
The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.
He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?
Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.
Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.
Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.
“Holy— shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.
It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.
He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.
Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.
You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.
“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.
“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”
He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”
Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.
“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”
Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway— not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open— and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.
While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.
“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down his body as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.
“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”
Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”
“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.
“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”
“They probably already are.”
He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face, but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too. Nothing compared to the sheer size of his thighs though; they had to be the size of your head. Just by photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake.
Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.
You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”
“Right… like all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”
Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with embarrassment that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.
You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”
He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.
“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”
Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a question you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck— the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I— uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.
Of course, to add to the fucking embarrassment, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.
“Is that all you read?”
You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”
He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”
Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.
“N-no,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.
“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”
To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.
This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.
You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.
“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”
Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”
You look him up and down. “So?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.
“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”
You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”
He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.
“Yeah. Yeah— I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.
“Which part were you reading?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway— she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”
Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.
“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”
You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.
“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my cock nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”
You finally halt at the words because he was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”
So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.
You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and come close. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.
This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.
“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”
The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.
“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”
You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.
The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.
“hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.
The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.
He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.
“fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his shoulder for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.
You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.
“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”
You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts. “Again.”
“Y-yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.
How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.
“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”
“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.
“No the fuck you’re not.”
Godammit.
Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.
Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”
“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”
Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.
“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”
He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.
“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.
And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”
You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”
You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.
“No. come here.”
You stare at him dumbfounded.
“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.
“My face, baby.”
Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”
You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.
“Sit.”
“Are you sure?” You clarify.
“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between his eyes. The only thing visible is his damp hair.
Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.
You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.
Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”
You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.
Shakily, you call out “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.
“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.
“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him past your hair.
“Hmphh?”
“I’m close— can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.
To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.
this was kinda rushed
©️hxltic
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fusaes · 11 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 '𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 - ft. hobie brown / spiderpunk
🎸、 . *. ⋆ warnings; mentions of blood, profanities, 'breakup', makeup sex-ish, slight angst, vaginal penetration, no p in v, biting, mentions of piercings (hobie), poor attempt at British slang, parents in house, lmk if there's more! ✧. word count: 935
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The rapid knocking on your window didn't falter even from the stormy weather that the sky was going through. The clock strikes 1:34 am, the light shining on the figure that was trying to get in by your window.
''Let me in... I know 'ya see me...'' The shadow had spikes on top of its head, and a guitar strapped on its back. The voice echoes from your window, only urging you to open the door. The raspiness and toned sound gave you an idea of who it was.
''Holy fuck, Hobie what the hell-'' His body fell on your carpet, limp and covered with bruises and cuts. His suit was busted, the fabric was ripping at the arms and the seams were threatening to open.
''What happened? Speak to me, Hobie.'' You quickly scooped his upper body to lean against your bed frame. You run towards your bathroom to grab a cloth and wet it with warm tap water. Your hands rummage through the cabinets, finding the band-aids and Betadine.
You approach Hobie's wet body on your rug, clearly swinging around the city while it was thundering. Someone didn't check the weather forecast... But you set that thought aside and wiped off the blood pooling on his cheek.
''I'm fine, babe.'' ''Don't call me that.'' Your words only seemed to puncture Hobie's ego rather than his body. ''Why not? Doncha love it?'' Your hands were a lot denser on his skin before he used the corny nickname on you. You and Hobie weren't so 'peachy' after that incident in one of his shows.
''Loosen' up, doll.'' Hobie's hand rests on your cheek, pushing away the stray hair strand from your face. Your hands swat his away and occupied themselves in getting the bandaids and the Betadine. ''Just cause I'm taking care of you now, doesn't solve our relationship, Brown.''
Your sudden call of his last name shot a bullet through his heart. He knew you were tough to crack, but if he had to go on his knees for you to forgive him he gladly would.
''Brown? What happened to 'Bee' or 'Love'-'' ''It died, Hobie.'' You put the last bandaid on his cheek, your face inching closer to his. His breath fanning on your nose and his eyes only piercing through yours.
''You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't love me.'' His words made your hands pinch his ear, a small frown appearing on your face. ''I'm only doing this because we're...'' Your words only faded away from the sudden thought of what you and Hobie were.
You didn't like labels yourself. But Hobie was the only one who could actually play your heart and make a tune. As corny as it sounds, Hobie didn't help the banging of your heart in your ribcage.
His eyes were looking directly at yours, winking at your cute frown. ''Friends?'' You pinched his ear again and rose up from his side. ''Bastard.'' Your words lightened his mood, but the spark remains.
Hobie stands up from your floor and follows your figure in the bathroom. His hand trails across your waist, your two reflections being seen in front of the mirror. Your hands grip the ceramic, letting Hobie corner you between the sink.
''If you didn't love me... You wouldn't let me do this, wouldn't 'ya?'' Hobie's hands slide under your pajamas, his hands pawing at your panties. ''Hobie...'' His free hand makes your way to yours, caging your hand in his.
''Mm, yeah? 'Ya know my name. Say it.'' His fingers set your panties aside, collecting your essence from your slit. A small moan comes out of your mouth. Your hand covers your mouth from spilling any more sound.
'''Bee, parents-' Hobie knew that your parents were in your home. In fact, a part of you thinks he came here for that sole purpose. ''I know, I know. Keep quiet for me, yeah? You can do that for me, can't you?'' You bite your palm once Hobie enters his fingers inside of your cunt, your juices pooling at your panties.
Your moans are muffled by your hand, his thumb toying with your clit. ''You like that, don't 'cha?'' His words enter your right ear, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. His cold rings hit your hot skin, and the sudden temperature change gave you goosebumps.
Even due to how odd it sounds, Hobie knew how to toy with your body just right. The way his fingers curl and crook inside of you, the pace of shapes circling on your sensitive clit, him pinching your nipples. He had known your anatomy more than you thought he did.
''Mm, right there?'' He was teasing you, the way your body shook under his touch only proved the impact he had on you. You could only moan for a response, your eyes closed at the knot tightening in your stomach.
Your hands let go of the cold ceramic of the sink, holding Hobie's hands through the fabric of your pajamas. ''Close? I can feel you. Fuck, so tight. Squeezing my fingers.'' Hobie kisses your neck, the cold metal of his piercings only made his sloppy kisses more pleasurable.
He bites the skin of your shoulders, ''Wanna keep me inside of you forever?'' You could only nod your head frantically, your legs close shakily. ''Cum for me.'' His words led you to your orgasm, your sweaty bodies sticking to each other from the heat of the moment.
''You know you love me.'' He grabs your chin and kisses your swollen lips.
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the thoughts in my head with hobie only spiraled to this mess. i hope you guys enjoy this either way:) ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy
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syddsatyrn · 2 months
Note
heyyyy i didn’t know if requests were open so you can just ignore this if they aren’t-
can i get some alastor smut?:) just gen stuff
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Redemption By Sydd Satyrn
⛧Pairing: - Alastor x Reader
⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, some dubcon, dom/sub, p in v, praise kink, toxic relationship, creampie, Alastor owns your soul, 18+ Minors DNI
⛧Words: 1k ⛧Notes: I gotchu! My request are open! Please read my rules before you send one!
This wasn't the first time you’ve been in this situation. You’ve been seeing the shadows follow you all day, they whispered about you, watching your every move. This means that Alastor wants you home as soon as possible. When you finally walk through the front door of the hotel, the other patrons are staring at you. The mass of black shadows creeping behind you was unsettling, even for them. You quickly made your way to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. You were used to it by now, having your every move observed. You just wished that instead of sending a hoard of shadows after you, he would get a cell phone and just text you.
As you exit the Elevator you walk down the red-carpeted hallway to Alastors radio tower. When you open the door you can feel his sinister presence take over the air. Alastor was typing out some notes for his next radio broadcast. He doesn't even look at you at first, keeping focus on his typewriter, the keys clacking as you stand there. Your heart raced, and your palms started to sweat.
“You’re late…” Alastor says, a tinge of anger in his voice.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up.”
“For two hours?! Do you take me for a fool?!” He raises his voice, and a glowing green collar attached to a chain appears around your neck out of thin air. Alastor holds the other end of the chain, pulling you closer to him. Only a few centimeters separate his lips from yours, his eyes are locked on yours, and you can't look away. “I’ve been in need of your assistance, and you leave me waiting? Tsk tsk.” He tuts and moves a few stray hairs away from your face.
“I-I’m s-sorry…” You choke out, he softly caresses your face with a wicked smile.
"You think you can beg your way out of this? My dear, you underestimate me.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise…” You plea, but this kind of behavior never works on Alastor.
“Promises are easy to make, my dear. Why don’t we see if you can deliver on yours?" Alastor says with a depraved look in his eyes.
His lips met yours in a fervent collision, igniting a blaze of desire that consumed you. He kept the chain wrapped around one hand as the other roamed your body, hungry for more. Every touch, every caress fuels something in you, Alastor is the only one who can bring out this primal side of you that you hide so well.
You immediately give in and start to unbutton his shirt while he takes over your mouth. His tongue dances with yours as he groans into the kiss. He breaks away, grabs the collar around your neck, and drags you to his desk. Alastor bends you over rather forcefully and you yelp as your torso hits the desk.
Alastor growls as he presses his clothed cock against your ass. “Are you ready for your redemption, darling?” He says followed by a low growl. Your breath hitched and you nod, Alastor has a menacing look on his face. He quickly pulls your skirt down along with your panties to reveal your wet cunt.
“My, my…you’re already prepared.” He says while digging his claws into your hips.
Alastor unbuckles his pants, pulling them down a bit to free his cock. You feel the tip of his length tease your wet hole before slowly pushing his way inside. You whimper and squirm a bit, trying to adjust to his size.
Alastor begins to thrust in and out with force, he lets out a low growl. You cry out in pleasure as Alastor pounds your soaking wet cunt, the desk slams into the wall causing you to yelp. Alastor pulls the chain connected to your collar, making you arch your back further, causing him to reach even deeper. You begin to tear up a bit as you let out a mix of whimpers and moans. Alastor leans in closer to your ear and begins to whisper.
"That's my good girl." He whispers, it sends shivers up your spine. The line between pleasure and pain is really thin when you and Alastor get intimate. You enjoy it but you also hate it, a mix of emotions that you can't seem to sort out. Alastor is relentless, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as he fucks you deeper and deeper. You are starting to see stars as you get closer and closer, Alastor's claws drag down your back leaving bright red marks. You wince and grip the edge of the desk like your life depends on it. Alastor's eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans, thrusting his cock into you as deep as possible as he cums, you soon follow as you release onto his throbbing cock. You moan something that sounds like his name, your body begins to tremble as you find that sweet release. These are the moments that make you wonder if this is really a punishment at all.
The chain around your neck disappears and Alastor removes himself from your cunt. You slowly push yourself up, your legs shaking, and turn around to see him buckling his belt and fixing his tie. You locate your clothes and attempt to put them back on despite how wobbly you are. "Are you satisfied?" You ask a tinge of attitude in your voice. "For now." He says with a sinister grin. He's been waiting around for her all morning, he was starting to get impatient and needy before you showed up. Alastor is always a mystery, a danger that lurks in the shadows. The deal you made with him isn't always convenient, but it was better than the previous outcome. He motions for you to come to him, and you obey. He holds your face in his hands and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your face turns a shade of pink, surprised by his actions.
He whispers softly in your ear. “Until next time, my darling~”
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starsmourning · 8 months
Text
𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝑒𝓍𝓉𝒾𝓃𝒸𝓉˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ
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૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა ‧₊˚ ꒰ྀི you couldn’t help it, you wanted your masters cock since he’s been ignoring you, can’t a puppy want his treat? ꒱
ᥫ᭡ ⋆゚⊹ ꒰ྀི scummy incel blade x puppy!ftm!reader ꒱ — ( dom/sub dynamics ノ bottom male reader ノ dom blade ノ consensual ノ oral (character recieving) ノ you pronouns ノ transmale anatomy ノ used of boy-cunt, boy-pussy, pussy, cunt ノ master kink[?] ノ fingering ノ squirting ) — 1.1k wc 𐂯 ‧₊˚
૮꒰ྀི∩ ∩ྀི꒱ა ゙ ✿ angel notes ! . . . repost ( not edited. )
fem alligned & mdni blogs dni.
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The huge man before you continued to press buttons on the keyboard, the raven haired male not paying attention to you at all. All his attention was on the blaring computer, your puppy ears went low, your lips turning into a pout as you sat beneath him. Your head placed on his lap as you let out a whine.
Your tail laying low as you needily shake your head on his thigh, “m- master please… please, want my treat, I’m a good boy right?” you pouted as he ignored you only yelling insults at his microphone, probably another bad guy he always told you. He looked down before you, patting your head, “master?” you called out as he hummed. “Can I have my treat please? I’ve been a good boy right?”
Seeing your pout he couldn’t help but smirked at this, cupping your face he looked at you, “oh do you? What have you done to be a good boy then?” he asked in a teasing one making you furrow your brows making you pout more, blade chuckled. Such a cute puppy you were so obedient, so naive all just for him, “I’ve been here with you… being quiet! And I stayed.. aren’t I a good boy? I’m a good boy master I swear,”
Blade chuckled happily as he patted your head, your tail happily wagging your ears all perked up as you looked at him happily, “I guess you are a good boy then you want your treat?” he asks, making you sparkle, “yes please!” your tone is so full of joy as he slowly takes off his bottoms, showing off his huge cock. Your eyes had made hearts as you slightly opened your mouth, blade smiled seeing your eagerness. Slowly you lick his cock. He groaned in pleasure as you put the head of his cock in your mouth.
Expertly swirling your tongue on blade groaned as he slowly put his hand on your hair, gripping on it. Your ears perked up happily as you looked up at him seeing as he was enjoying it, you pushed your head on his cock feeling its veins as your tongue touched it, you gagged a little bit feeling the tip hit the back of your throat. “nng… haah, there atta boy,” he groaned in pleasure, feeling your sweet velvety tongue wrap his cock, feeling the warmth of it to his big huge girth.
Meanwhile your boy-pussy was getting wet on the floor, slowly dripping in the carpet as you eagerly sucked his cock as if it was sweet honey nectar. If blade were to describe what he saw between his legs, it would be paradise. A paradise he felt so heavenly as you continued to suck him off. “mmph… mmm~ ♡”
You moan on his cock as you bobbed your head on it, eagerly sucking him off so cock-drunk out of your mind, your boy-cunt was feeling empty but it felt so good having your masters cock inside your mouth. Your own sweet treat he always gives whenever you’ve been such a good boy, your tail wiggled happily as you sucked it. Blade groaned as he pushed your head further on his cock, your throat bulging due to how huge his cock is.
“nng… haah, just like that, what a good boy y/n~” he praised as he saw you bobbed your head eagerly, your ears all perked up as you looked up at him, your eyes making hearts as you blink your pretty lashes on him. God you were just a heaven sent, he groaned as he felt his climax cumming, hearing him groan. The puppy quickly sucked quickly wanting his sweet seed, his sweet milk all in his mouth.
You bobbed your head as you sucked him eagerly like a starving puppy and finally with a final thrust and groan from your dark haired master, he came inside of your mouth. He gripped your head in place as his cum or in other words what you like to call your ‘sweet treat’ or ‘sweet milk’ filled your mouth. The puppy boy eagerly drank it all as his boy-pussy dripped down his own cum.
Slowly taking off his mouth on his masters cock seeing the grip on his hair has loosen he opens his mouth to him showing him that he has drank his sweet essence, “such a good boy you are y/n,” he praised as he patted his head making you giggle happily, he smiled softly seeing you so happy. Though he looks down at your dripping boy-cunt. Its essence oozing on the carpet making the said carpet wet, “aww look at your little boy-pussy all neglected, since I’m such a great master let me spoil my little pet~”
He says with a condescending tone as he carries you up to his lap, putting his hands on your clit he starts circling his huge fingers on it making you hug him, your tail wagging as you moan on his neck. Your head nuzzling into his neck as you gripped on his torso, “nng… haah! ah! ma- master~ ♡” you call out as you arch your back, his fingers pressing your sensitive clit as he slowly slides one of it in your hole.
You flinched feeling his huge fingers fill you up, tearing up as you felt like you were being sent to heaven by your master with such pleasures babbling nonsense on his neck as he chuckle in amusement. “Such a sensitive little puppy~ such a cute little puppy~ ♡” he said as he thrust his finger inside making you moan, “mw- mwaster~ haah.. nng~ ♡” you called him out as you cry in pleasure.
“look at you being so dumb with just a finger, I wonder what will happen if I put in my cock?” blade teases as he slowly adds another finger in making you flinch as he makes scissoring motions inside of your velvety warm walls. He continues to thrust in his fingers as he suddenly crazes a spot that made you arch your back, he smirked as he pressed it again making you arch, “haah! ah! fuwaah~ m- maasterr~ ♡ p- please more~ ♡ “
He smirked as he pressed that spot more, making you a moaning mess, your body writhing in pleasure as his other hand was on your waist keeping you in place. You cry out on his neck as your boy-cunt starts to spasm under his relentless assault on your sweet spot, “m- master!.. master! haah! ah! nng~ fuwah~ mwater! ♡” you try to say you were gonna cum, that your sweet essence was gonna cum soon but all you babble out was his name as he thrust one last time making your honey juices cover his lap, going everywhere as you squirted as you cried in pleasure.
You panted as blade slowly took out his fingers, his hands covered of your slick as you looked up at him in a daze he looked at you with a smirk as he licked his finger that was covered with your translucent juiced.
“good boy~ ♡ ”
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hispg · 7 months
Text
Whiny boy
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Pairings: R4! Leon x Fem! Reader
Wc: 2.1k
Summary: You always bicker with your roommate Leon, but now the bickering goes a little bit different..
Warnings: Porn without plot, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, dom Reader, sub Leon, overstimulation, shameless smut.
An: Yes, I'm obsessed with Roommate Leon, I can't help it.
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God knows how you got into this situation, riding your roommate, humping his erection like a bitch in heat, making out with him like it was the last time.
You never got on very well with him, the two of you were always at each other's throats, exclusively because Leon kept working out in the living room, not caring about all the times you asked him to do it in his room.
But he kept doing the same thing, working out in the middle of the living room, shirtless, just wearing those short shorts that barely covered his thighs. And whenever he started to sweat, his shorts would get wet, threatening to become almost transparent.
The bastard knew how much it turned you on every time he flexed his biceps while doing a weightlifting set. And he did it precisely because he got your attention that way, he'd see you biting your lip when he started doing push-ups, when he'd be covered in sweat and breathing heavily.
Could he work out at the gym? Yes, of course. But he liked to have his special audience watching.
You.
"Fuck - Holy shit, please." He begged in a whimper, desperate to be able to touch you.
He looked so miserable, whimpering and moaning so erotically beneath you, so helpless. Even if he had enough strength to push you aside and pin you to the floor.
But he liked this position, being submissive to you. Acting like a dumb, needy little boy, desperate for your touch.
"That's what you get for being so stubborn." You whisper, pressing your wet pussy to the head of his swollen cock, enough to elicit a loud whimper.
He rolled his eyes back and curled his fingers into the carpet, in a state of ecstasy and needing something to hold onto.
"Please..." He begs once more, sobbing your name again and again.
You give a sideways smile, forcing your breast into his mouth, making him let out a soft cry at the sensation.
His eyebrows furrowed, and he moaned against your flesh, wrapping his tongue around your sensitive nipple and making you moan.
You could feel the amount of pre-cum leaking out of him, soaking his shorts and underpants at the moment. But what could the poor guy do?
His mind was blank, all he could do was moan and whimper, feeling totally at your mercy.
He was so hard it hurt, his cock stuck painfully in the uncomfortable fabric of his boxers, and you refused to touch him or let him touch you.
He deserved it.
"Mmhm, let me eat you out." He moans and sobs at the same time, his voice being muffled by your breast.
"Shut up." You say authoritatively, pushing your breast against his lips once more.
You feel his body arching underneath you, just as he thrusts his hips upwards, coming into contact with you once again.
A pornographic moan escapes his lips, he couldn't bear to feel you so wet and he couldn't do anything about it. Although by then he didn't know what was what, whether it was his pre-cum oozing out or the slippery liquid coming out of you.
"If only you'd listen to me." You murmur in his ear, giving light bites and licks.
His voice vibrated against your skin as he closed his eyes tightly. His cock was throbbing and twitching in his pants, he didn't know how long he could keep it up.
You could swear he had a few tears in his eyes, the poor guy felt so miserable.
"Ooh? What? You look so beautiful like that." You force a warm tone, but make clear the debauchery behind it.
He gripped his fingers in the carpet, breathing heavily and moaning so much, he was close, and the way his cock was throbbing made it clear.
"Fuck, fuck, let me touch you." He begged like a puppy, trying to make the best sly face he could.
In response, you rubbed against his tip, he was so sensitive and so close that you could feel the sticky liquid leaking out of him. Just as you couldn't deny that your panties were soaked, you could already tell they were dripping.
He didn't even have to look, he could feel how wet and dirty his shorts were. It was so humiliating, you were being so mean to him, making him cum in his shorts.
But he deserved it, of course he deserved it.
"Mhm, what? Are you going to cum like that?" You tease him shamelessly, moving against him even more.
You saw clearly when he rolled his eyes, gripping the carpet even tighter, if that was possible.
He started sucking your breast harder, hard enough that you could feel his teeth lightly brushing against you. He was sure to leave marks, you bet.
You smiled, leaning on his chest, taking advantage of the fact that he was shirtless, and squeezed him a little, feeling how firm his body was.
With a sly little sound, he let go of your nipple, which was now quite red and swollen from all the sucking.
His eyes went wide and his mouth hung open, his mind was scattered and empty, all he could think about was you.
The way you had him underneath you, riding him and keeping him down. God, it was more than enough to make his blood throb, you had no idea how much he had fantasized about this moment, somehow.
Just out of spite, you sat right on top of his erection, giving him the opportunity to feel your wet slit, at which point he felt so much in the moment that he didn't care about anything else.
He could see and feel how wet his own shorts were getting, he could already tell how sticky things were getting down there.
"I'm sorry, I-I don't do that anymore." Another apology, though it wasn't apologizing that he wanted.
He only asked like that because he wanted you to move, he wanted to at least have a slight taste of what it was like to have you riding him, that's all he could think of.
"Say it again, I want to hear it one more time." You tease him once more, moving slowly, almost to a stop.
"I-I won't, -" He stopped, only to let out another loud moan as he felt your entrance being rubbed against his swollen tip, eliciting a more than impure sound from him.
You stop once more, grabbing him by the chin and forcing him to look at you, "Look at me while you talk." You mutter, starting to move again, still holding him and forcing his gaze towards you.
It was a punishment, and one he was accepting without complaint. And he would continue to accept it, like a good boy.
"S-sorry, I won't, - Fuck, do it again." It was the best he could manage, his eyes rolling back once more.
He wouldn't last much longer, his cock was throbbing and completely sensitive, ready to spurt his cum. And he certainly wasn't going to hold back, he was dying to release, he couldn't deny it.
Placing both hands on his chest, you began to rub into him once more, your hips rolling against the tent in his shorts, you could already see the wet spots emerging.
Oh, he was cumming.
"Ah! Oh, fuck! Fuck-" He groaned loud enough to echo around the room, his body writhing and the first spurts coming out.
Without any shame he came in his own pants, you could feel the hot liquid on yourself, since the fabric of his clothes was thin and cheap.
Still, that didn't mean he stopped bucking his hips upwards, desperate for more, for anything, any touch.
"Look at that..." You babbled, lifting his face and making him look down, seeing the mess he'd just made.
He hadn't even recovered from the high, he was still gasping for breath and whimpering, and you could bet he was still releasing a few smaller spills of cum. Even you didn't know how needy the poor guy was, maybe you'd stimulated him too much.
"For you." He answered under his breath, almost embarrassed about what he had done.
You let out a giggle, kissing him quickly on the lips, something you hadn't done in a while, as a way to punish him. So simple, but he was overcome by the feel of your lips on his, as if it was the sweetest thing you'd ever done.
"Again..." He looked at you with piteous eyes, as if he depended on it to breathe.
He looked like a poor helpless boy, begging you to touch him in some way, your touch capable of making him fall apart in a matter of seconds.
Once again you pressed your lips to his, but this time it was a longer, even sloppier kiss, because as soon as he could, he slid his tongue into your mouth, moaning all the while.
Who would have thought that a sour-faced guy like him could be so sly. So whiny.
Pushing your hands down, you found the waistband of his shorts, and it wasn't long before you were pulling them off him, pulling his underwear with them.
And there he was, completely exposed to you. His cock hard once again, resting on his stomach. Now you were aware of all the mess he'd made, his thighs and groin completely messed, you could already see even without touching how sticky the area was.
Delicately, your fingertips reached his tip. You were just caressing it without going too far.
As a reaction from his body, he thrust his hips upwards in desperation to find more of your touch.
"Please. Anything." Another plea, baby blue eyes staring intensely at you. Waiting for anything.
You got the message, and this time you would comply with his request.
As if you were an expert, you took off your clothes in a matter of seconds, getting completely naked for him.
And at the sign of you he blinked, salivating and biting his lip, paying attention to your features, the way your body was so perfectly beautiful.
Before he could understand, you were on top of him once again, this time brushing the head of his cock against your entrance, just giving him a taste of what was to come.
His hands left the carpet and found your waist, holding you tightly, doing what he had wanted to do for ages.
Without telling him, you sank into him, feeling his cock all the way in. All at once, and it fit so well.
"Shit-" he gasped, his nails scratching and digging into your skin lightly.
His eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling, he was in a state of purest ecstasy.
As soon as you lay on top of him, his hands came down to your sides, gripping tightly, as if he didn't want to let you go.
And he wouldn't.
Your movements were slow and steady, up and down. Leon's dumb face was priceless, the way your name rolled off his lips, the way he let out the dirtiest of moans every time, without worrying about anything else.
You could see how hard he was trying not to come too quickly, but his body betrayed him, the way he rolled his eyes every time your warm walls tightened around him. Or the way he was squeezing your sides even tighter, hard enough to leave a bruise.
His body squirming beneath you, just as he was thrusting his hips faster, moaning and whimpering non-stop.
"Mhmmh, I'm almost..." All he muttered, starting to pound even harder.
"Go on." You whispered, feeling your own orgasm approaching.
You were so wet that you just slid into him without any effort, just moving up and down. Rocking your hips against his.
The sounds of your moans in his ear were too much, his name coming out of your lips in the sweetest of whimpers, it was more than he could ask for. More than enough to send him over the edge.
"Fuck.fuck.fuck." He uttered, holding you tight, slamming his cock into you like never before.
You both moaned loudly at the sensation, unable to think of anything else. Leon couldn't hold back any longer than that, still sensitive from the last orgasm.
Two or three thrusts later he came, with a long, loud cry. You feel the hot spurts inside you, and that's all it took for you to wet his cock, making a mess of it.
His arms wrapped around you, preventing you from moving, he wouldn't let you go, he didn't care about the mess he'd have to clean up afterwards.
You surrendered there, clinging to him and enjoying the post-sex feeling.
For today you'd both given the all-clear, today's bickering ended in a different, unusual way, so to speak.
Maybe having Leon as a roommate wasn't so bad, on the contrary.
It was too good.
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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months
Text
Dark!Azriel x reader: Stockholm Syndrome[***]
A/N: This is for the Eat You Up girlies <3
Warnings: dubcon themes, dark!Azriel, CNC kink, bdsm undertones, leashes + collars, heavy Dom/Sub dynamics, sex toys, knife play, pussy-spanking, impact play, degradation, foot-humping, biting, slight choking, shadows, sadomasochism, somnophilia, nipple play…?, spitting, mention of non-con
Word Count: 9,960
Visual Prompt here!
You pad quietly along the corridor, searching.
Shadows flick at your ankles, around your bare calves, herding you gently toward the stairs. Teeth bite softly into your lower lip as you ascend the case, feet tiptoeing along the carpeted hallway as you’re guided to his office. The door is ajar, and you spot him at his desk, walking in silently.
Not silent enough, apparently.
Hazel eyes flick over his shoulder, pinning you to the floor, and you still, breath catching in your throat. He turns a little in his chair, darkness thrumming around him, wreathing the great, powerful wings at his back. His eyes catch on your bare thighs, gaze darkening as he drinks you in, frozen in his room.
Azriel’s lips quirk, and that’s all it takes to have your limbs unsticking.
You eagerly pad forward, walking up to him, hands moving to your hips then wrapping round the base of your spine. Your own hands land on his broad shoulders as you slide into his lap, legs parting either side of his thighs. You press into his warmth, nestling deeper into the firm strength of him, nosing at his throat.
Azriel’s large hand strokes your hair, soothingly possessive, tucking you away.
A hum sounds in your chest, almost a purr, and your hips wind gently over his own, rocking your centre against him. He can feel the softness of your sex through the seam of his leathers. “Been a long day, huh?” He asks, large hand spanning your throat as he eases you back—so he can look at you. Remind himself how obedient you are. How docile you’ve become.
You blink quietly up at him, satisfaction gleaming in his sharp, hazel eyes.
White canines flash as his lips lift into a grin, “want something, pet?” Your hips roll onto his needfully, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. A low chuckle sounds deep in his chest, “want my cock, hm?” Your head dips, and he laughs again. “I’d’ve thought all the maidenly blushing would have been fucked out of you by now,” he drawls, the rich timbre of his voice stirring something hot and liquid in the pit of your belly.
Papers rustle behind you, but you’re too busy staring up at him to care.
“Get on the desk. Legs spread,” he orders, and you practically fizzle with excitement. Sliding out of his lap, and raising yourself up carefully, so your ass is perched near the edge. Thighs part shyly, and you’re thankful for the fabric covering your heat. No matter how many times he’s already seen you, from all sorts of obscene angles.
You squirm when he remains quiet, simply leaning back in his chair, eyes slowly raking over you, leisurely taking you in, as if you aren’t burning with need. His gaze fixates on a spot between your legs, the teal silk darkened and damp. Heat bubbles as his tongue flicks out, wetting his lips. Showing his growing appetite.
“Remove your top for me, pet,” he says softly, eyes so full of starving hunger it sends goosebumps raising across your skin, nipples peaking as your fingers catch the hem of the cotton. Pulling it up over your head, you shiver in the cool air of his office, toes curling at the intensity of his gaze.
Silence stretches as he watches with predatory intent, allowing your anxiety to build, anticipation thrumming beneath your skin.
“Do you remember when you used to protest to all this?” He asks softly, sharp hazel piercing into you, pinning you to his desk. “How you used to scream, and beg for me not to touch you?” A shiver thrills down your spine, and he marks it eagerly. “Answer me, pet.”
You dip your head. “I do.”
His mouth parts in a grin, canines peeking from below his upper lip. “Want to recreate that for me?”
Breath catches in your lungs, muscles stiffening as you stare at him, heat washing your cheeks. “What…?” His eyes seem to almost glow with anticipation, and he pushes up from his chair. The space between you is gobbled up in a single stride, then his hands are resting heavily around your hips, pressing close between your thighs. “Want to make it fun, don’t you?” He drawls, watching you intently.
You dip your head again, cheeks heating, but he lightly grips your jaw, raising your chin. “Go on,” he murmurs, eyes scanning your features hungrily. “Make the hunt good.”
Arousal licks between your legs, but then he steps back, and you watch him curiously.
Azriel merely steps aside, encouraging you to go. “Hide.”
Heat sparks in the pit of your belly, and you’re hopping off his desk, grabbing your top, receiving a firm smack on the ass as you leave. “I’ll know if you don’t try hard enough,” he calls after you, voice being carried on those shadows, speeding you along.
First, you stop at your bedroom, but no—too obvious. Next is the kitchen, but nowhere to hide. Next is the study, and you sneak in, checking to see if you could fit under the desk. No way. But there’s a set of keys laying half hidden beneath some papers, and you smile to yourself.
Silently, you slide the key into the one remaining lock on the back door—having watched the other six come off over the years. Until just one remains. You catch it as it clicks open, careful not to make a sound as you open the door.
And hurry out into the night.
————
Toes curl in excitement as you settle your legs either side of the broad trunk, feet dirty from scaling the large tree. But now you’re up here, hidden, and have a good view of a few of the windows leading into your house.
Watch as he checks the bedroom first—he definitely would have found you there. Then the washroom, a few rooms you can’t see, the kitchen… He disappears for a while, and you assume he’s checking the study. Excitement thrills down your spine as you watch him search for you. Is this how he felt all those years? Secretly observing your activities?
It’s exhilarating.
When he reappears in the bedroom, his shadows are darker, writhing around his wings. He’s begun to figure you’re not in the house—he must not’ve seen the lock yet. You smile to yourself, satisfied with your efforts.
His movements drop their leisurely pace, sharpening to something more brutal. Lethally efficient as he checks each room again, going through the lovely house.
When the ground shakes slightly, you can guess he’s found the opened lock—guessed you’ve escaped out into the world. Returned to where he plucked you from.
Azriel prowls out into the garden, hazel eyes flicking left and right, scanning for movement, and you hold your breath. His nostrils flare, and he moves forward, shadows hunting close to the ground. He reaches the base of the tree, and comes up short. Your scent disappears from the ground.
He’s still. Quiet.
Then he begins muttering to himself. Your name, over and over. A strange spell being woven as he chants it repeatedly under his breath. Hands tighten to fists at his side, shadows writhing, and you can feel his agitation from below.
You watch, curiously. You’ve not seen him like this in a long time.
So you grip a pinecone, and drop it over the edge.
Immediately he stops, going silent. Staring at the cone at his feet. His gaze snaps up, razor-sharp hazel slicing into you, and you freeze. Cold, glittering fury dances in his eyes.
Excitement heats your body, hands gripping the trunk as you swing your leg over the side. Then tip off the edge.
His eyes widen, instantly moving to catch you, shadows springing up to soften your fall, and you feel it as his strong arms wrap protectively beneath you. Pressing you to his body. His grip is tight—possessive, and you nestle closer. “What d’you think?” You mumble, pulling back to peer up at him.
“I thought you’d gone,” he mutters, tips of his fingers tightening on you, before loosening, allowing you to settle your feet on the ground. “You know you’re not allowed out here,” he reminds roughly, hand settling on your waist, spanning the width easily.
Your hands settle on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against his rib cage. How fast and hard it’s pumping.
“You told me to make it good,” you murmur, “didn’t I do good?”
“I thought you’d gone,” he repeats with devastating softness. Maybe you shouldn’t have let it go on for that long. “I thought you’d gone,” he says sharply, squeezing your waist. “I’m here,” you say softly, pressing into him. “I haven’t gone any—”
“I thought you’d runaway,” he mutters, a little frenzied. “I thought you’d been pretending. That you’d succeeded in escaping from me.”
You brow furrows, “Azriel, I’m right here…”
He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have come out here.”
You peer up at him, staring at his beautiful features. How could you ever run away from him?
Gently, you pry your hands beneath his own, linking your fingertips together. Step back a little. “Maybe I was trying to escape,” you taunt softly. “Maybe I’ve gotten bored of you, and want something else.” His face goes white with rage, and you spin on your feet, turning to run for the house.
You don’t even get a single step before his hand has brutally gripped the base of your neck, yanking you back to him. You whimper at the roughness, and he marks the sound eagerly. “Want to repeat that, pet?” He growls quietly, keeping you pinned to the spot.
Teeth prod into your lower lip, his gaze darkening.
“Maybe I was trying to run away,” you repeat, skin prickling beneath the intensity of his attention. Centuries of predatory training zeroing in, on you. “Are you trying to provoke me? Is that it?” He snarls. “Think that’s a good idea, pet?”
“I’m not your pet, Azriel.”
His eyes gleam with cold fury, anticipation burning icily. “No?”
You shake your head. “No.”
Canines flash beneath the moonlight, and then his shadows have encompassed you. The weightless sensation overtakes you, then your feet are again on firm ground. You flinch as something leathery wraps around your throat, tightening until it fits snugly. A collar.
Metal snaps, and you know he’s just clipped on the lead.
Azriel gives a firm tug, making you stumble forward, hissing at the pressure around your throat.
“I think someone’s gotten too comfortable with her position,” he growls lowly, jaw tense, shadows thick and writhing at your feet. “Needs some reminding who’s in charge of her, huh?” A shiver trills down your spine, and you press your bare thighs together. Needing the friction. “Isn’t that right?”
The tears arise on their own, barely even needing to be summoned.
His grip tightens on the leash, eyes flickering with arousal at the sight of your damp lashes. “If you don’t want your role of pet, then by all means, spit on it,” he drawls softly. Menacingly. “Entitled brat, aren’t you?”
He lands a harsh slap to your cheek, tugging roughly on the lead again to keep you steady. “If you won’t comply as a pet,” he snarls softly, “then you’ll obey as a slave.”
A whimper slips from your lips at that, heat turning liquid in you belly. His brow quirks, lips tilting up at their edges, “like that?” Breath trembles from your lips, legs turning weak with arousal.
“Azriel…” you whisper desperately. The heat is too much. You need him to relieve it.
“So desperate,” he laughs softly. “I haven’t even begun on you.”
Then he’s roughly guiding you back, shoving you against a wooden wall, shackling your wrists in chains, shadows copying the movement on your ankles. The leash hangs limp as he steps away, brushing over your breasts, grazing your thighs, and you bow from the board.
Azriel tuts lowly, retreating into the dark dungeon-like basement, allowing his shadows to play with you in the meantime. They skate up your thighs, wrapping over your hips, slithering up your spine. Gliding beneath your shirt. Pinching your nipples.
A breathless whimper slips from your lips as they twist and flick, pressing against the teal silk between your legs. Winding with enough pressure to feel good, but not enough to give any meaningful stimulation. Head tips back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as they teasingly circle your clit, more grazing your stomach, keeping you confused from where they’ll next come from.
Your lips part, hips trying to grind down upon them, but they move with you, refusing to come any closer. You nearly cry out in desperation.
You flinch when scarred fingers roughly push aside your soaked underwear, running something rubbery but firm through the wetness. Coating it. You attempt to peer down, but can’t get a good glimpse. Can hardly think straight with how desperately you need him.
Breath is shoved from your lungs as he pushes the object inside of you. Dreadfully slowly. In and out. A few inches at a time. When it’s fully in, he moves your underwear back into place, roughly tugging the strings further up your hips, shoving the toy deeper.
A moan bursts from your lips, spine arching from the circular board as you tighten around it, trying to keep it pressing against that wonderful spot.
“I was saving this for a reward,” he murmurs beside your ear, fingers between your legs, prone to push it further inside. “But I suppose it can double as a punishment, huh?”
Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, barely able to keep them open long enough to look at him. “Can you even remember my name, slave?” He asks, amusement clear in his question. You blink wearily up at him, begging for stimulation. All you get is a rough pat on the cheek, followed by his fingers pressing the toy up into you.
A strangled moan arises from your throat, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you try to silence yourself. He jerks roughly on your leash in reprimand. “None of that,” he tuts, gripping you jaw so you’re forced to look at him. “I want to enjoy this.”
Then he retreats again, and you sink into the wooden board, weight resting heavily on your arms that are still pulled taut either side of your head.
“Eyes up here,” he commands, a sultry roughness to his order. Heat buzzes between your thighs, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. And you nearly forget how to breathe.
Cold, hard steel catches the dim light. No more than an elegant slice of silver amongst his shadows. Azriel’s lips twist into a smile, deftly spinning the short blade in his hands, skilled with practice, flexible with familiarity. There are more at his side, piled on a table, all the size of small daggers.
“Azriel,” you breathe. “What—”
The blade flies from his hand, embedding in the wood to the right of your body. Too close for comfort. Especially because you know he could hit you if he really wanted, and you don’t know how close he’s willing to get to satisfy his desires. You cringe away from the Illyrian steel, but the chains hold you fast, keeping you pinned to the wall like an insect to a dissection table. Ready for him to play with; experiment on.
“Better keep still,” he mocks, picking up another dagger. “Unless you want a few scars to show for later?” His lips twist into a wider smile, “a reminder of your disobedience, perhaps?” The blade flies, lodging in the wood a few centimetres above your head. You yelp, dipping your head as your blood runs cold.
Another dagger has already left his hands before you can look up, slamming into the wood beside your right breast. A puff of cold air hisses at the skin, practically able to feel the blade if you tip your body a little to the right. It’s piercing the cloth of your top, just another restriction to your movement.
Azriel laughs, flipping a blade in his hand, marking your aroused discomfort. How you squirm.
“Do you regret sneaking out yet? In the night, where anything could have happened to you?” He asks, shoulders tensing at the reminder. “Do you understand how weak you are, huh? How delicate?” He throws another blade, this one nicking your cheek, as if to demonstrate how easily you can be hurt. A whimper is strung from your lips, the light stinging making you want to pull your thighs together.
“Mm sorry,” you breathe, lower lip wobbling. “Mm sorry, Azriel…”
He laughs at that, “better.”
Picks up another dagger. “But too late.”
Steel slices against your hip, slicing the teal string on your underwear, exposing your skin as blood beads delicately. Azriel licks his lips at the sight, a quick flick of his tongue that has you fantasising about everything else he could be doing to you. “Azriel please,” you whimper, vision blurring. “I didn’t mean to upset you… Wanted to make it fun.”
A rough chuckle sounds, the metallic scape of yet another blade sliding into his hand, “I’m having plenty of fun.” Steel flashes in the dim light, making you squint. “Are you not enjoying this?” Teeth push into your lower lip, blinking away the dampness, “want you, instead.” Azriel’s lips quirk, taking in the way your hips shift, tightening around the toy needfully. He targets the other string flawlessly, rewarding you with a matching nick to your hip.
“Yeah? You want me to be inside of you rather than that?” He asks, pleased with your answer. Though not satisfied enough to give you what you want. “Want me to unchain you so I can stuff you with my cock instead? Fuck you ’til you’re going limp in my arms? Is that what you’d like?”
“Yes!” You pant, tightening around the toy desperately. You’re so wet it’s slipping out, no longer kept tucked inside by your underwear.
“Azriel…! Azriel, I can’t— Az!”
Wood splinters as he targets just between your thighs, a breath below your skin. The toy perches atop the flat of the blade—having been thrown sideways. Your chest rises up and down, sweat making your skin gleam in the dim light. Things tremble, weak from the wild ride, adrenaline singing in your blood.
Light catches on his canines as he grins, slightly feral, slowly prowling toward you. “So obedient, aren’t you?” He drawls, towering over you as he rests his hands atop the circular board. Your spine bows from the wood, arching in attempts to get the toy to touch more of those sensitive spots. His grin widens, “want it a little deeper?” He asks mockingly, eyes gleaming with dark pleasure. You nod your head, cheeks hot like the rest of your body.
Teeth flash in the light, and he applies pressure to the board.
You scream as you’re spun upside down, so your head is in line with his boots, feet in the air. Dizziness crashes into you, tipping your sense of balance, warping your sense of direction as he laughs distantly. Fingertips brush down your inner thigh, dancing over the skin, breath grazing teasingly.
“So desperate,” he drawls. “Can you beg for it, hm? Think you can string the words together for me?” You blink hazily as he crouches down, peering at your confused form.
“Azriel…” you manage, then squeeze your eyes shut at the pressure. So hot. Blood rushing downward. “Azriel, please…”
“Please what?” He asks leisurely. “What do you want me to do, pet?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, pulling it from your teeth, small scars from where you’ve bitten over the years indented into the pillowy flesh. He grins, leaning forward.
A deluded moan drags from your throat as he presses his canines into your upper lip, tugging on it slightly. Your hands pull on the chains, desperate to touch him as he plays with you, toy beginning to sink back in, but it’s neither fast, nor deep enough.
“Put it in me,” you beg, features scrunching with desperation, eyes squeezing shut against the pressure, brows furrowing. “Azriel, please…put it deeper.” Canines pierce your lip, something thick and rich bleeding onto your teeth, then he’s lapping it up. Landing a rewarding smack to your cheek before he stands. “That’s better,” he chuckles, finger brushing between your thighs, making to push them apart. “That’s much better.”
Breath drains from your lungs as he pushes the toy all the way in, gravity helping it sink deep into your heat. Hot liquid spills, dripping from your eyes up over your brows, trickling into your hair. Knees shake, hips bucking as he keeps the toy pressed inside of you, enjoying the view. “You having fun? Enjoying this?”
He pushes against the toy, making so it presses more into one side, circling the pressure, making you weep. “Yes,” you moan, “yes, yes, yes.”
Azriel halts his movements.
Before you know it he’s landed a smack to your clit.
You squeak, jerking against the shackles, to no avail. “Why the fuck are you enjoying it, huh?” He spits, landing another smack to your tender sex. “Did you forget this is supposed to be a punishment? You’re not meant to enjoy it.” Another smack, and tears slide up over your face, saliva wetting the corners of your mouth as you weep.
“No, we can’t have that, can we?” He mutters, grinning to himself as he smacks harder, making you scream, muscles flinching as you writhe against the chains. “How will you learn your lesson if it doesn’t hurt, huh?”
“Please, please, please! I’ve learnt it! I know better!” You cry out, hands balling into fists against the stimulation.
Relief sweeps in as he hold off for a moment, “is that right? Think you’ve learned? Think you know better now?” He presses the toy back in, having been slightly pushed out when you were tensing for impact. You nod your head frantically, “I swear! I’ll never do it again— Please, Azriel!”
He hums to himself, sounding satisfied. Leaning down, his mouth latches over your cunt, tongue flicking over your clit soothingly. Tasting your arousal. Azriel groans at the flavour, sealing his lips over your tender sex, suckling gently, wet muscle teasing the taut bud eagerly. Scarred hands grip behind your thighs, holding you still as you try to buck for more.
You’re murmuring prayers under your breath, chanting them desperately as he plays with you, a cat toying with its mouse—batting it back and forth between its paws. He changes the angle of the toy, and your mouth drops open, silent moans being drawn out, one after the other as pleasure builds and coils in the pit of your stomach.
But then he’s pulling away, leaving you hot and messy, slick coating the skin of your thighs, sex soft and tender from his brutal attention. Heart pounds in your chest as he unlocks your ankles, shadows keeping you pinned to the board as he does the same for your wrists. “Think we’re done, pet?” He murmurs, allowing your body to carefully fold over itself, so you tip over, shadows making sure you don’t hurt yourself as you land on the floor.
Your head is spinning from the movement, cunt aching for more attention, and your legs automatically spread as you attempt to push the toy back inside. Grinding against the floor, but it’s too low, too far away, and your thighs won’t spread wide enough. Whimpers spill from your lips in frustration, wanting that pleasure, riled up from the phantom lick of his tongue over your clit. How good it felt.
Azriel growls roughly, shadows collecting your leash, returning it to his hand as he tugs roughly, drawing your attention back to him, instead of the toy you’re pitifully trying to steal your pleasure from. “Come here,” he orders sharply, again tugging on your collar, causing you to choke.
Clumsily, you crawl forward, stopping to kneel before him.
“Feeling good, slave?” He asks, keeping your leash taut so you’re forced to tilt your chin upward, peering at his towering frame. You dip your head mindlessly, too dizzy and yearning for pleasure to properly think. He chuckles, “yeah? You liked that?” Again you nod, lips parting as your hand slips between your legs to press the toy back inside. Fingers come away wet, slick dripping down and onto the floor.
“But you still need more, don’t you?” He purrs, hazel eyes gleaming in the dim light, “so greedy. Greedy and gluttonous. Such a brat.” Whimpers drag from your lips, nodding your head dumbly along with everything he’s saying. He chuckles at you.
“Want to feel good now?” He asks, shadows cupping your jaw to keep your attention on him. When you don’t answer, he smacks you, cheek stinging with the impact. “Answer. Or do you want me to chain you back up and give that little cunt some rougher treatment?” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull, but you shake your head in apology. “Mm sorry…please don’t…want to feel good, please…”
His lips quirk—he has you wrapped around his finger. Your pleasure dependant on him. You need him. Without him, you can never feel good.
Azriel takes pity on you, large hand landing atop your head, threading through your hair. “You’re going to be good? Gonna be good for me now?” He asks, grinning when you nod eagerly. Eyes gleam maliciously, and he tugs on your collar, pulling you flush against his leg, arms clinging onto him for stability.
“Go on then,” he urges, shifting one foot to be between your thighs, knocking your knees further apart. “Take your pleasure.”
Relief crashes into you, and you move to pull away, wanting to lie on your back—give him a nice view; a performance as you bring yourself over the edge. Only with his permission, of course.
You whimper when he tugs on your collar, making you peer up at him desperately, questioningly. Lips tip into a smirk as he taps his boot against the floor expectantly. “Go on,” he repeats softly, mockingly. “Take it.”
Teeth sink into your lower lip, hands gripping onto him desperately as your thighs spread, the toy settling against the leather. You lean your weight onto it. Eyes roll back, heat flushing your skin, taking inch after inch. His grip tightens in your hair, hand curling into a fist as he keeps your head tilted upward—so he can watch your blissed out expression as your features contort. All because of him.
Male satisfaction licks up his spine, cock stiffening in his trousers, rubbing against the seam.
You’ve already been worked to the brink, coil so close to snapping, it’ll take minimal effort to bring you that ocean of pleasure. Slowly, you wind your hips over him, unable to do much more with the depth of the stimulation, how deep the goodness is sinking. You wish it was his cock, wish his hands were roughly gripping your hips, arms bound behind your back so you’re completely at his mercy.
Speed up the motions, hips bucking as you grip onto him desperately, his hand fisted in your hair. Azriel watches as you tug your lip between your teeth, brows curving upward, drool shining at the edges of your mouth. Cheeks and lashes damp with tears. Skin hot to the touch. Lips part in pleasure, tongue flicking out briefly. “That’s it,” he goads, shadows gripping your hips to urge you on. “That’s it, take it. Take it from me. Be a good girl and take your pleasure.”
Eyes roll back, lids fluttering as you press your chest flush against him, gripping onto the muscle of his thigh as your hips drag back and forth in sharp, sporadic jerks. “Go on, a little more— That’s it. So good. So good, aren’t you? So well behaved.” The praise sings down your spine, and pleasure bursts across your skin, fracturing your conscious. Hips buck wildly, almost automatically, riding out the euphoria, his fist tightening in your hair. Keeping you still so he can watch as you cum.
His name chants on your lips over and over, eyes filling with tears at the pleasure as you press tighter to him, clinging onto him like he’s some kind of prophet. Some kind of saviour. You bow into his touch, desperate for more, to have more of his skin against your own.
“Azriel…” you moan.
It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. Never failing to make him dizzy with lust, enraptured with the movements of your body, how you’re kneeling and riding him so desperately. Like you really do need him. His temperature rises.
The aftershocks fade, leaving you panting quietly, relaxing your body, shifting off his boot. Thin strands of silvery slick connect the leather to your cunt, creating a sloppy mess. Azriel tuts softly, arousal zapping straight to your clit at the sound alone. “What a mess you’ve made,” he drawls, hand having released your hair. “Gotten my boot all dirty, haven’t you? What a filthy thing you are.”
Colour tints his skin, clearly pleased with the results—how wet you are.
“Think I should make you clean it up, huh?” He jerks on your leash, shadows tightening the pressure of your collar ever so deliciously. “Make you lick it up with that filthy mouth of yours?” He drawls, enjoying the idea. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and he chuckles. “No…I think you’d like that too much. Pretty whore.”
A lovely whimper is drawn from your chest as he releases your collar in favour of tossing you over his shoulder, shadows keeping the toy tucked comfortably inside of you. You whine and writhe against him, wanting to feel more of him, have more of him. He lands a harsh spank to your backside, making you yelp, then wiggle more.
Azriel laughs lowly at your antics, rewarding your struggle with a harder smack, leaving the skin stinging in his wake. He carries you all the way through your shared home, taking you up each flight of stairs, leading you up from the basement and into your bedroom. Gently lowers you down his body as he sits, toy still tucked away deep inside. Legs spread over his lap, his arm winding around your waist to keep your chest flush against him.
Fingers thread through your hair, jerking your head back so he can stare you down, those hazel eyes enough to have arousal gathering all over again as you anticipate the awful things he’s going to do to you. “You regret going outside, don’t you, pet. Not going to do it again.” You nod your head along with him, showing you’re sorry. His mouth slides wide in a vulpine smile, “but what about those other things you said, huh? Think I’m just going to let those go?”
You whimper, rolling your hips against him, pleading for him to get inside of you. Fill you up.
He laughs darkly at your attempts to distract him, bucking up against you—let you think he’s forgiven you. But his hold remains tight in your hair, and he watches you swallow against the collar, shadows unclipping the leash. “You said something cruel to me earlier. Do you remember what it was?” He asks, smiling as you struggle and squirm in his lap. Shake your head in response.
Azriel hums, hand moving to grip your throat lightly, holding you gently between his fingers. “You said you wanted to look for something else. That you’d gotten bored, and you wanted something better.” The grip tightens, not enough to make you choke, but enough for you to feel the pressure. You squirm more, shaking your head in denial. “I didn’t mean it…” you beg, hands desperate to touch him, to hold him.
He tilts his head in mock concern, “no? You were lying?”
Teeth bite into your lip, dipping your head in confirmation.
Lips quirk. “That right? You’re a dirty little liar?”
Vision blurs, but you nod, grinding down on him in attempts to make reparations.
He chuckles lowly, deep in his throat. “You made me very upset with that comment. Made me think you wanted someone else. That I wasn’t good enough for you.” He grips harder, breath rasping out, pulling your mouth to brush against his own. “Am I good enough for you, pet?”
“Yes,” you whisper, trying to nod your head. “You’re so good. So good to me, Azriel. So perfect.”
One of his brows quirks. “Perfect? I don’t know about that, pet.”
“You are,” you insist, hardly more than a whine. “Best thing in the world. You’re perfect. Everything.” Lips part in a grin that’s filled with male satisfaction. He releases your throat, in favour of going to his belt. “Want to show me how perfect I am, pet?”
Heat washes down your spine, and you’re nodding frantically, quickly shuffling down his body as he pulls himself free of his leathers. You stare up from between his legs, knelt on the ground, the toy still tucked away, balancing on the wooden boards. Mouth waters as he touches himself, beautiful skin tinted with colour, flushed with arousal.
You don’t notice his shadows slinking away, trailing back down to the basement.
A hand slides through your hair, and it’s all the encouragement you need to be rising up—feet keeping the toy nice and deep—following his silent instruction. You open your mouth over him, and he groans from the back of his throat. You could cry at the taste of him, how right it feels to have him on your tongue, pushing your jaw lower. How lovely his skin is, so soft, and hot. Slightly salty, and tasing so distinctly of himself.
Fingers slip between your legs, rolling over your clit, tightening around the toy.
“That’s a good girl,” he drawls, pushing you down onto his cock, hips bucking upward. “So good. So good at making me feel good. What you were made for. Isn’t that right, pet?” You moan onto him, grinding down, fingers flicking and rolling over the sensitive bud.
Free hand grips his base, pumping what you can’t fit, tongue flicking over the slit in his head. Landing soft kisses to it, and the space just below, suckling lightly, before taking him entirely again. As entirely as you can, anyway.
Enjoying the process, saliva dripping from your mouth, lubricating the slide up and down. How he sometimes cuts off your airways if you take him too far down. How he twitches in response to the slight gags. Loving every second of it.
“Choose a number between one and five,” he orders lowly.
Brow narrows as you make to pull up, but his hand is already resting at the back of your head in warning. You still as his tip, tongue circling again, then you dip as far down as you can go. One…two…three times.
Azriel hums, then a faint clicking noise sounds through the room.
You writhe, muscles spasming, trying to tug away from him as the vibrations hit your sensitive walls. His hand keeps you in place, shadows returning from their adventure down to the basement. Eyes squeeze shut at the pleasure, the stimulation, and the darkness wraps around the base of the toy, slowly beginning to drag it in and out.
Tears build at your lashes, and you take him back down your throat eagerly, spine arching so it touches all kinds of spots. Azriel laughs softly as he watches you, how easily you bend to his will, curving and arching to fit to the shape of his pleasure. Stroking himself through the skin of your cheek, thumb skimming gently.
Another click sounds, and the vibrations change to a steady pulse rhythm, conditioning you to tighten moments after the sensation. His shadows pick up speed, pushing in faster, and harder. Free hand leaves from between your legs to grip onto him, having to steady yourself from the stimulation.
You moan again and again onto his cock, wanting him to feel as good as you are, lapping at the salty moisture that gathers at his tip. Darkness replaces your fingers, playing with your clit, running in tight, repetitive circles, making the pressure in the pit of your belly double…coil over itself again and again.
“That’s good,” he encourages, breathlessly, getting off on seeing how desperate you are. How your hips push back against his shadows, how you moan onto him, dripping onto the floor. “Keep going, pet. Making me feel so good. Show me how much you love me. Worship everything you can get that lying fucking mouth of yours on,” he snarls roughly.
Heat builds at the degradation, coil tightening as you take him as far as you can, nails biting into his leathers as you push your limits. His shadows work in tandem to your efforts, licking over your clit, flicking and swirling over your nipples, tugging on them lightly. Pinching, like he’s attached clips to them. He knows how sensitive you are…all those secret spots he’d discovered.
Azriel curses under his breath, low and vicious. “Do you remember how hard you tried to escape me that first time, pet? How you cried, and screamed? Screamed until that lovely throat of yours was raw?” He drawls, bucking his hips in time with the thrusts of the toy, vibrations making you see stars.
All you can manage is a heady moan, tears dripping down from pleasure, nearly numb with euphoria.
“And look at you now,” he laughs breathlessly, “all good and broken in. Told you I’d have you trained. But you didn’t believe me, did you? Thought you’d make it, huh?” Arousal sparks in the pit of your belly, and you widen the stance of your legs, spreading your thighs to allow it to hit deeper. And it does. It does so well.
Eyes roll back into your skull, hands trembling with the force of your orgasm. He twitches in your mouth at the pure pleasure in your scent, how overpowering it is. Strong enough to tip him into his own high.
Liquid pleasure spills into your mouth, and you nearly go mad. His taste coats your tongue, spurting hot between your lips, spilling down your throat as you lick and lap and suck: worshipping as he’d told you to.
Shadows tighten around your clit, pinching your nipples, tugging on them as he targets every part that you love, succinctly and with mind-breaking accuracy. Practiced precision.
Pleasure overwhelms you, feeling so wonderful as the vibrations crash into you over and over, made stronger as your sensitive walls flutter around the toy, clamping down, forcing it tighter.
The last thing you remember is how he’d pulled you from his cock, spit and cum mixing together to create silvery, milky threads, making your lips glisten. The way those last few spurts had decorated your cheeks, nose and mouth, marking you as his own.
And then your world dimmed, winking out.
————
He continues working on you long after you pass out, grinding his hips sloppily against your own. When you’re passed out, and unaware, you’re inanimate. A pretty accessory for his cock.
Cum gleams over your abdomen, cunt glistening from hours of use, release mixed with your slick. Even while you’re asleep, your body continues to please him, urging him to continue, to pursue that sick pleasure.
Azriel doesn’t mind how unresponsive you are; he gets to paint you as he pleases.
His fingers graze softly over your abdomen, muscle fluttering beneath the teasing brush, tensing as they glide through cum. He groans, cock stiffening expectantly as he scoops release up from your cunt, gathering loadfuls before raising them to your lips. He twitches as the milky liquid splatters over your mouth, trickling over your tongue, making you wake suddenly. Spluttering as he touches the back of your throat.
The scent of his arousal spears into your mind, and your body heats in response, so ready for him to work on you. So ready to submit. Tongue plays with his taste, peering down at yourself as sensations crest over you.
Azriel sits back patiently, allowing you time to catalogue the bruises; the devastation.
Bite-marks litter your thighs, the indentation of his teeth stamped so deep you hope it scars. Bruises hurt on your throat and collar bones, on the space beneath your jaw, and you raise your fingers to brush the intimate skin. Your breasts ache, and you know he’s been having fun with them: pinching, flicking, biting. Suckling the sensitive peaks while he no doubt stuffed you full, cock buried deep inside your tender sex.
Whimpers draw from your lips as you take in the results of his desire—how he’s inflicted his hunger upon your body. How he’ll continue to abuse every spot he likes until… There is no end.
Tongue flicks over your lips, and you settle onto your hands and knees, crawling to him. He may have removed the leash, but he’s still dragging you forward, invisibly connected to him.
“Azriel…” his name rasps from your lips, throat raw from use, need scraping against your skin. Hazel eyes gleam as he watches you crawl forward on shaky limbs—how you drag your tongue up the underside of his cock, set on worshipping him with as much devotion as he does with you. A quiet groan falls from his mouth as you rise up his body, breasts dragging over his chest. He doesn’t miss the flicker of pain across your features as they scrunch, how reactive you are, so sensitive to touch now you’ve been given chance to recover.
Mouth opens over his own, sharing the erotic taste of him across his tongue, revelling in how it strokes against yours. His hands lightly grip your waist, fitting perfectly over the already formed bruises, sliding into place. Tenderly, his tongue flicks out over your lower lip, lapping up his cum from your skin, gathering it in his mouth as his hand slides lower, fingers dragging over your entrance to collect your wetness.
Pleasure lights your body as he laps at his own fingers, indulging in your flavour.
His large hand grips your jaw gently, tipping you upward so you’re facing him. Taps the skin of your cheek twice with the pad of his forefinger. Open.
Hot liquid bubbles in your abdomen as he spits between your parted lips, digits sliding in soon after to press his taste into your tongue; mark every part of you with his scent, until you’re covered in him. You whimper around his fingers, hand wrapping around his cock as you move to pleasure him.
Azriel snarls softly over your mouth, and you retract your touch—even as he pulls you flush against his torso, cock pressing into your tummy so tantalisingly. Teasingly. You whine.
“Azriel…” you breathe, words muffled from his fingers, and pride flickers in his gaze. “What is it?” He asks softly, lips lifting at the edges. You could sigh with relief at that expression; you know what it means. It means lazy, leisurely. It means taking his time—gently, subtle bucks of his hips to stimulate you slowly. Warm you up again.
“I want you,” you plead, hands pressing to his chest. He allows you to guide him back, wings flaring as they press into the mattress. “You’ve had me all night,” he smirks, pleased you’re craving him as intensely as he is you. Mutual obsession. Tangible need.
“It’s not enough,” you mumble, hands skimming the tops of his thighs, eyes torn between laying on his own, and lapping up more of his cock. “I need to have you inside me.” Cock twitches, and you tighten in response, thighs parting over his hips, settling so you’re atop him. “You’ve had me inside you plenty of times tonight,” he reminds softly, eyes glazing with lust, darkening as his hand brushes your abdomen. Knowing how much cum he’s pumped int you.
Lower lip pushes out, brows curving together, “you know that doesn’t count.” Fingers press into the padded muscle of his stomach, slicked with sweat, and you want to trace each one with your tongue. “Want to have you inside, and to feel it,” you moan, guiding his tip to your entrance.
Azriel watches, entranced. Once again reminded at how obedient you’ve become.
“Open your mouth.”
You do so without question.
Lips fashion themselves into a smile. “Close.”
Your mouth closes.
“Good girl.”
Heat flutters between your legs.
Hands gently span your waist, urging you to sink your weight onto him, settle on his cock. You oblige happily.
Eyes roll back into your skull, and you hear him murmur soft words of reassurance under his breath as you sway. Temporarily rendered immobile. He steadies you, waiting for you to be ready for stimulation.
He’s had his fun, had his time to play with your body. Find his pleasure in it. He knows it’s your turn, and he’s happy to let you have it. You’ve worked hard for him, satisfied him repeatedly. Now he wants you to explore him all over again, swirl your hips until you find a pace you like, touch yourself as you want while he supports from the background.
You do just that.
Slowly, you lift off him, thighs trembling with the effort. Then you slide back down, feeling the push of his hip bone digging into the softness of your flesh. Thoughts block out of your mind, pushed away by his cock as it presses into your sensitive walls; quiet whimpers cry from your chest.
Legs shift out from under you as you yield control, unable to lever yourself up and down as you fully rest your weight on him. Leaning back against his legs, bent at the knee to support you, your eyes fluter closed, content to bask in the fullness of him.
His shadows stroke over your head, providing the comfort you seek. Warmth floods your chest at his caring nature.
“Azriel?” You mumble softly, words subdued under the weight of pleasure. He hums quietly in response, hands grazing the tops of your thighs as he watches you. “Tell me a story,” you request.
A chuckle rumbles out of him, and you feel it warm your insides, making you tighten around him. “What sort of story do you want, pretty thing?” You could melt at the nickname. Reduce yourself to liquid to splash all over him, saturate his skin.
Teeth bite into the pillowy silkiness of your lower lip, toes curling as you drag your hips forward by a few centimetres. “Tell me how you fell in love with me,” you request softly. Hands settle at your waist, heating your sides, thumbing the skin softly. “Tell me every thought you had… Every moment you watched me… Tell me all of it.”
“It’s a long and dreadful tale I’m afraid,” he laughs deeply, “I think it would sour the mood.”
“Then tell me one that won’t,” you breathe. “I want to know you more. Want to know everything.” His cock touches a lovely place inside of you, and you focus on softly targeting it, rolling your hips over him.
Azriel pauses, and even with your eyes closed you can feel the weight of his gaze, how assuring it is; how adoring. “Okay,” he sighs, giving in, stroking your thighs, “just one.”
Your lips tip at the edge, one set of fingers linking with his own as he squeezes back.
“It was pretty early on—before I really grasped how deep the obsession ran,” he begins, the rough timbre of his voice curling your toes. “I spotted you coming back from a night out. You were clearly drunk, and stumbling all over the place—I was surprised you made it to your door without falling flat on your face,” he says, fingers tracing patters across your skin.
“I remember knowing you hadn’t locked your door, and I was angry. Angry you didn’t take care of yourself. For being so reckless,” he continues, tapping lightly at your inner thigh—reprimanding you for all those decades ago. Nearly seventy years past since that infatuation took root. “I remember thinking I should use my shadows to give you a scare. Teach you a lesson for being so unaware. You desperately needed to learn to protect yourself, and you weren’t going to start unless something pushed you into action,” he laughs, realising how firmly in your thrall he’d been even back then. Before he was even fully aware of it.
“But when my shadows got inside, you were already undressing, and I couldn’t move.”
Eyes flutter open, and you meet his dark hazel gaze, something far deeper than love dancing in his features. Something bordering on violent, glittering with possession. Protection.
“I doubt you even noticed how dark it got in your room that night, despite the faelight,” he says softly, and your pulse spikes, knowing how closely he watched over you for all those years. How protective he is by nature. “I later learned whenever you came back like that, it often meant whoever you’d chosen for the night hadn’t be worth it, choosing to stumble back to your own bed rather than wake up in theirs.” Again those impatient taps to your thigh, and your hips roll in response, soothing both of you.
“It was the first night I saw you touch yourself. And it felt wrong to watch, but you were so fascinating. I’d never seen someone enjoy themselves purely for their own satisfaction. With partners, or workers in brothels, they’re aware they’re expected to put on a show. They emphasise movements to an obscene, unbelievable degree, while you were calm and quiet.” You swirl over him, vaguely managing to call up a murky image of your bedroom. Picturing the darkness that filled it, and you hadn’t even noticed.
Maybe you’d known, innately, he was not there to harm you, but to love you.
“It was entirely solitary; a completely private moment I was witnessing, and it was an unimaginable weight off my shoulders,” he says, circling the tops of your thighs, heat building and coiling in the pit of your belly. “For those few hours, I was no one. Gloriously free to simply observe,” his lips quirk ruefully. “Until it wasn’t enough to just watch.”
Breathing shallows, chest rising up and down with anticipation. Wanting to know where he took the irreversible step from the light. Straying from his own path, to collide with yours.
“You came back again, drunk and stumbling over yourself, and I knew enough by this point to know you wouldn’t remember a thing,” he says, voice growing softer with each confession. “So that night, when you were on the cusp of sleep, I helped push you over the edge.”
“You didn’t even struggle,” he murmurs, breathless. “Didn’t even try to put up a fight. Just waited patiently as I pushed your legs apart; pulled the silk from your hips. So lovely and docile. So perfect.” Colour flushes his skin and he can’t help the slight buck as he presses himself deeper into your cunt.
“Go on,” you urge, panting quietly. “Tell me more.”
A phantom smile plays on his mouth as he remembers, “there were moments I think you may have fallen asleep, then woken up when your body remembered what was happening. Like you were desperately fighting it off for me, trying to be there for me.” He huffs a laugh, squeezing your hand.
“I remember how you arched at the first stroke of my tongue, how your fingers tightened in the sheets, like you wanted to touch me but didn’t have the energy to manage. So I held you with one hand, just like this. To make sure you didn’t suddenly jolt awake; that you felt comfortable. So your body wouldn’t warn you about the violation.”
“You were nearly perfect, except you didn’t know how to attribute the pleasure, so you didn’t call out my name when you came on my tongue. I watched you writhe, how your eyes widened then slammed shut, squeezing together as you gripped my hand though it all. Like you were worried you’d be washed away in the torrent. You were absolutely breathtaking in that moment; every moment after.”
“That night you became mine. You never knew—I suppose until now—but you responded to me that night. You felt it. I know you did. Your body reacted to me, and you squeezed me back. Despite the scarring, and the burns. You held on like you needed me,” he breathes, panting deeply as his stomach muscles flex in the dim light, sweat glistening across his skin.
“You claimed me too, that night. And I couldn’t resist going back.”
“I think you grew to expect me. You would return from a night out reeking of alcohol, get inside your home, pass out on your bed, and within a few minutes, you would be soaked. Dripping onto your sheets, waiting for me. Spread out and perfect. You wanted me as much as I wanted you, yet you didn’t even know who I was.” His hand squeezes yours, and you know you won’t hold on much longer.
“I tried to stay away. For months I would be off in another court, and you consumed me. At night I would lie awake, thinking about you, wondering if you were lying in your own bed, cunt dripping for me, waiting for me to soothe the ache. Sometimes I would be gone for so long your body forgot how to behave when I returned.” His words grow rougher, more agitated.
“So I made sure you remembered.”
“That first week when I returned from a mission, I wouldn’t sleep. I spent my time watching you, shadows happy to play with you again—they’ve always liked you more than anyone else. But you know that now, don’t you.”
As if listening in—which they very well might have been—the darkness writhes at your back, cresting over your shoulders and cupping your breasts delicately, swiping over your lips as you tip back into them.
“Sometimes it was nearly impossible to pull them off you. They would constrict around your thighs, tighten around your hips so you were secure beneath them. I quickly lost count of how many times they would want a turn with you, so I would let them,” he breathes, and you can feel that coil on the verge of snapping, heat sizzling beneath your skin as you squeeze him desperately. “You responded so beautifully to their kind of stimulation. And I would watch all of it.”
“Admittedly, I was a little careless. But you never noticed, so I suppose it doesn’t matter if I was a little sloppy here and there. If I got you a little messy, too.”
“It was rare I would be gone for longer than three or four months at a time, but when those longer missions called, I would rush back to you the moment I could.” A twinge of pain has entered his voice, thinking back on how long he had to keep his love for you a secret. How you were carefully shielded from it. For years. Decades.
“And sometimes I didn’t want you to wake clean of any marks of my own. If you weren’t even going to remember, then I might as well leave some trace,” he laughs sharply, arousal dumbing your mind as his words begin to mellow out. “But those never bothered you either. Not the bite marks, or the bruises, or the ache when you thought you hadn’t taken anyone to bed that night. Not even when you woke to find cum between your legs. Or a faint taste in your mouth.”
He sighs, bucking his hips softly, and you exhale heavily.
“Did you ever fuck me?” You breathe, tightening around him at the thought. “While I was asleep, I mean. Did you ever take me before I knew you?”
Azriel shakes his head, smiling now. “No, lovely girl. I wanted to save that for you. I wanted to be with you, and for you to be fully aware when I first went inside of you. And it was torture waiting. It was cruel to make me wait all those years. All that time, and yet you never picked up on that other scent that would consistently turn up on you. Maybe you grew accustomed to it.”
Teeth push into your lower lip, and you tuck your legs back under you, once again able to move.
“The first time I had you…I’ll never forget it,” he groans, hand releasing yours in favour of gripping your hips. “You screamed so sweetly. Begged me to stop, like you hadn’t been asking for it for decades. How you were able to scream at me to stop when your legs would practically fall open for me…” he laughs, and you buck over him, quickening the pace of your swirls.
“You took me as well as I knew you would,” he groans, hands helping you rise and fall on his cock. “Took everything perfectly. Even my blade.”
Your eyes roll back, and you allow him to take control, gripping your hips tight to pound in to you. “It was just supposed to warm you up. To stretch you out so we could both enjoy it when I entered you… But then you reacted so well to it, and you had to have an orgasm before you took me. And you looked so fucking edible.” He grits out the words, and your hips stutter, jerking as pleasure brims at your lashes.
“Azriel…” you pant, tears spilling as he hits those beautiful spots, making you bounce on him. “You looked so fucking good I couldn’t believe it. And you felt even better.”
You clamp down on him, taking each buck of his cock as he drives up into you, mind going blank except for his name playing on repeat in your head. Filled with only him entirely. Nothing else would fit inside you anymore. It has to be him.
Hot cum spurts inside, and you can only imagine the mess he’s made in your heat.
How full he’s pumped you; how deep his release is.
How deep he’s burrowed his way inside of you.
Hips slow to a relaxed pace, grinding down onto him, keeping him tucked away inside of you. Refusing to release a single drop as you continue fluttering around him lightly.
Words are far out of reach, but he collects you as you sway forward, blinking away drowsiness as you settle on top of him, nestling into his chest. Nosing at his throat, licking up his flavour.
Azriel laughs quietly from deep in his chest, and it twines with his heartbeat. “You’re perfect…you know that?” Warmth fills your heart as his arms wrap around you, shadows pulling the blankets to cover you, despite being the wrong way up in the bed. What does it matter when he’s around?
“I’m perfect if you’re perfect,” you mumble back, hardly succeeding in keeping your eyes opened.
He doesn’t respond, but you can feel his heart, can hear how it picks up speed, and you know he’s happy.
Hot lips brush your head, pressing kisses into your hair as he keeps it from your face. You burrow into him deeper, pulling the sheets closer as you roll off to his side.
Azriel squeezes you again, making sure you’re as close as can be.
Neither of you would want it any other way.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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Hi! I absolutely love your writing and saw that your requests were open so I thought I’d shoot this over. If you don’t vibe with it don’t worry about skipping it. I was wondering if I could request a James x reader where they are living together and definitely love each other but they’ve kind of slipped into a roommate phase. Like they’re just living around each other and reader starts feeling insecure and scared and doesn’t know how to get back into normalcy. Maybe a little angsty with some fluff at the end
Thanks lovely!
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.4k words
When James comes in the front door, his shoes squelch. You look him up and down, dripping wet and mud caked up to his knees. You wince. 
“Rough practice?” 
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” James says, dropping his bag by the door and heading for the kitchen. 
There’s an exhausted slump to his shoulders, and his shoes leave a muddy trail of footprints, and you hate to do it, but—
“Would you mind taking off your shoes?” 
“Oh.” James looks down. You see him follow the trail with his eyes. “Yeah, sorry.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You hate yourself as soon as it’s out of your mouth, because that’s exactly the sort of thing you’d say if it wasn’t fine. And yeah, you’re a bit peeved that he’d track mud inside after you’d mopped the floors just yesterday, but you know he wasn’t thinking about it and you’d promised yourself just this morning that you were going to be nicer to him and now he’s sitting on the floor looking like his day is getting worse instead of better. 
You try again. 
“Um, I made dinner.” You step over him awkwardly, setting a hand on his head to help yourself. James doesn’t shrink from the touch, but he doesn’t lean into it like you could swear he used to either. The stove turns off like it’s relieved to do it, having idled for close to a half hour while you waited for James to get home. You wanted to try and eat together tonight; you used to do it all the time, but lately you’ve been having too many couch dinners by your lonesome. “Macaroni and cheese, is that alright?” 
“Yeah, thanks.” You jolt a little at James’ hand on your back as he reaches around you for a bowl, and he looks at you, lips quirking like you’re funny. 
You find yourself smiling back by muscle memory, a reflex almost forgotten. It lifts your heart. 
“So, how was practice?” 
James glances up at you, then goes back to filling his bowl. “I’ve already told you,” he says. “Rough.” 
“Oh, right.” You huff out a little laugh. He passes you the spoon, and you take it without really looking at him. “Sorry.” 
His answering smile is weaker this time. More a press of his lips than anything. 
“Don’t be.” He kisses you on the cheek, then goes, pulling out his chair at the table. 
You take your seat, too. A lot of these base routines have begun to feel empty lately. They used to be an assurance for you, like if you always wore your same paths into the carpet you’d become so entrenched in this house, in James’ house, that neither he nor it could ever let you leave. You loved knowing that if he was back from his run when you woke up in the morning, there’d be a glass of orange juice waiting for you on the counter. That when the flowers on your kitchen table started to wilt you’d come home to a fresh bunch, and that if you called and told him you were having a bad day lunch from your favorite sandwich shop would miraculously show up at your work. Those things used to make your heart feel full to bursting, because they meant he was thinking of you. 
Now you’re not sure what they mean. They seem like things James does because he’s supposed to, like part of a script, a routine. Chores. 
As soon as he’s sat down, he’s digging into his dinner. James eats like a boy. Wolfing, like someone’s going to take it away from him. You hope it means he likes it. 
“What’d you do tonight, m’love?” he asks through a mouthful.
And see, he says things like that. Calls you his love, asks about your day. It’s all started to fall flat. You know he’ll take whatever answer you give him, because you’ve begun to suspect he doesn’t really care. 
“Nothing crazy,” you answer honestly. “Shayna’s baby came early, so I’m taking on a bit more at work until they can find someone to fill in for her. So that’s a bit stressful, but it’s not awful.” 
“Mm.” James nods, but doesn’t offer more than that. His mouth seems to be perpetually full. 
You fork a macaroni noodle, pretending you have more appetite than you do. Truthfully, you’ve felt weird and off and vaguely nauseous all day. 
Last night had been a bit of a breaking point for you. It came on rather suddenly. You’d gone to bed long after James, but you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from him, the way the moonlight snuck in through the slats in your blinds to fall across his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, and you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with it all, and then you were crying. 
You’d wept silently, wishing James would wake up, but you were unwilling to rouse him and he wasn’t going to do it himself. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep with your pillowcase damp and cold under your cheek and woke to find James’ side of the bed empty as usual. Orange juice on the counter. 
“I was wondering if you might want to watch a film tonight,” you say lightly. “I saw they’ve put that sci-fi one you like back on Netflix.” 
“Ah, have they really?” James swallows, forks another bite. “Wish I could, but I’m supposed to meet everyone at Spoons in a few minutes here.” 
Oh. The realization hits you like a dull thud, smack in the center of your chest. He’s not eating quickly because he likes your food; it’s because he wants to leave. 
“Can’t you stay here?” Your voice is small. James looks at you like he’s not sure what to make of it. 
“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He offers you a smile. His fork clinks in the bottom of an empty bowl, and his chair screeches as it’s pushed back. James brushes his lips across your cheek as he goes by. “We’ll have to do it this weekend, though, definitely.” 
You know by now these sorts of promises aren’t meant to keep. They come written in disappearing ink.
He heads upstairs to change, and desperation grips you. It forgets he’ll be home later and puts you hot on his heels, your own dinner left on the table barely touched. 
“Jamie, wait.” He pauses with his shirt half off, looking over at you in the doorway. “Don’t you feel like we’ve not had much time together lately?” you ask. 
The plea is naked in your tone, and James’ eyes soften. He tugs his shirt off, straightens his glasses. “I haven’t had time for much of anything lately,” he says, shrugging good-naturedly. 
It’s true. He’s been busy. His new coach seems to think the team has nothing but time, and as captain James is expected to commit even more than most. When he’s not at training, he’s keeping fit on his own or running errands for his mum or sleeping it all off in your bed. 
“But you should come tonight,” James goes on brightly. “Dorcas and Marlene will be there, it’ll be fun.” 
He tosses his clothes in the laundry bin and makes his way over to the dresser. You cross your arms, then uncross them. Parse your words. “I don’t…I just feel like you hung out with your friends last night, you know?” 
“You could’ve come then, too,” he says, stepping into a pair of jeans. “They all love you, you know that.” 
“I don’t want to hang out with your friends.” It comes out sharper than you intend, though not less sharp than the look James gives you. He’s finished getting dressed but doesn’t make to leave. “That’s not what I mean. I like your friends, but it’s not…the same as spending time with you. It doesn’t count, for me.” Your voice softens on the last two words, knowing that for James, it might very well count. 
For him, you’ve gathered, social time is social time. So long as you’re there, he’ll feel just as connected to you as if you were curled up on the couch together having a private conversation. You wish your brain worked the same way, but it doesn’t. 
He’s looking at you with something like trepidation now, so you state it plainly. 
“I really miss you, Jamie.” A blockage rises in your throat. You swallow it back down. “I feel like…I don’t know what’s going on with us lately.” 
“We’re the same as we have been.” He looks confused, worse when your face pinches painfully. 
“And that’s all?” You try to blink them away, but tears burn in your eyes. “This is just what we do now?” 
“No.” James looks appalled, but you catch the quick glance he gives to the digital clock on his nightstand. “It’s only for now, just until the season’s over and Coach mellows out. Where’s this coming from?” 
You blink hard, angling your head away from him. “Nothing, sorry. I’m just being emotional.” Your breath scrapes on the way in. You pretend it doesn’t. “It’s okay if you have to go.” 
He shakes his head, and when you start back towards the stairs anyway, he says, “No, come on.” In a few long strides, he’s got your elbow. He tugs you gently back into the room. “Let’s sit down, okay? What’s going on?” 
“Sorry.” Your voice is pitchy and tight. You think you hear James inhale softly before he’s drawing you into a hug. It doesn’t feel quite like it used to, but it’s still warm, still nice. 
He sits you both down on the edge of your bed, arms still wrapped loosely around you. “What are you sorry for, baby?” 
“I was going to try not to make your life harder today,” you laugh wetly, pulling back from him to swipe under your eyes. 
“You don’t make my life harder,” James says, somewhere near to dismayed as he slides his hand to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t.” 
You give him a look meant to say, Oh, come on, but you’re not sure how it comes off with your face blotchy and snot starting to run from your nose. You take in a big breath, trying to calm yourself. 
“I think I’ve made it harder more than I’ve made it easier lately,” you admit, looking at your bedcover and also at nothing at all. “I didn’t even really realize until recently, but I’ve just felt so…disconnected from you lately. It’s like even when you’re here, I’m just around you and not with you, and—” Your voice catches, and you inhale again. “And I know you’re really busy, but I’m just trying to find ways to fix it.” 
James’ hand drops from your shoulder, into his lap, and you lift your gaze. He looks crestfallen. “What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly, his own voice starting to sound raw. “I can’t control these things. And we live together, I see you all the time. It doesn’t seem fair to ask me not to see my mates.” 
“I’m not asking you to do that.” You’re horrified. “But that’s just it, Jamie, it’s like we only live together anymore. Saying hi when you come in, waving when you go back out, those don’t count as quality time for me. And I wish I could get the same feelings from being in a big group that you do, but I can’t.” 
James looks at you helplessly. You shrug, just as powerless. 
“I know it’s not your fault,” you tell him, and a tear drips off your chin. “I don’t know what to do, either. I just want you to know that I’m trying, okay?” 
James nods for a minute. Thoughtful, heartbroken. He lets out a big breath. Your arms come around each other at almost the same time, so in sync you can’t be sure who reaches for the other first. You’re trying not to get snot on his fresh shirt, but he palms the back of your head, pressing your face to his shoulder. 
“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’re right, we should both be trying more. I think I’ve let myself get so overwhelmed that I’m not…almost not even thinking throughout the day, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this by yourself.” 
“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, and a little laugh rumbles through James’ chest. He hugs you tighter. 
“It is a little bit, though, isn’t it? I haven’t been paying attention. But okay, let’s make a plan for now.” His hand splays out between your shoulder blades, and you clutch at the material of his shirt, both of you wordlessly trying to get closer as if you can make up for lost time. “Come with me tonight, please.” You go still, but James goes on, “I know it’s not a solution, but I can’t back out and I’d really feel so much better if you were there. Please, angel. And tomorrow, we’ll stay in and watch something. Not a film only I like,” he gives your back a teasing little squeeze, “but something we can both get into. Or we can just talk, or play a game, I don’t care. Tomorrow is our night, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you sniff, nodding and pulling away slightly so you can wipe your face. James joins in, pinching your nose clean for you and wiping the snot on his jeans carelessly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to clear my busy schedule.” 
He smiles. It’s like the sun beaming through clouds. “I’d appreciate that. Really hard to get ahold of you these days.” You let out a little laugh, and his grin spreads. “Good, so that’s for now, and at training on Friday I’m going to talk to Coach about cutting down on our hours.” 
You feel your eyebrows pinch. “Jamie, you don’t have to—” 
“I do,” he says. “I’ve been a wuss about it, but everyone on the team is miffed and it’s really my job to handle it. He doesn’t know everything yet, so I can at least give him some advice about how we operate best.” 
James palms the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and meeting you halfway. His forehead presses against yours. 
“I’m really glad you said something. Thanks for being the smart one, as usual.” Your smile is small at first, but James nudges his nose against yours until it blooms in full. “We’re gonna make it better, okay?” 
You swallow thickly. “Okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 
“Don’t thank me.” His voice takes on a tender quality, and you push your forehead into his. He palms your cheeks in response, stamping his lips to your forehead. “Love you, sweetheart.” 
“I love you, too.” 
That was never up for debate. 
642 notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 3 months
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ᴀ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ
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ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ/ᴀᴜʀᴀʟɪꜱᴍ ➠ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ
pairing: personal trainer! yeosang x fem! reader
genre: pure smut
summary: you love your weekly visits with your personal trainer. he always stretches you out just right.
w.c: 2.4k
warnings: mean(ish) dom! yeo, sub! reader, 15 year age gap, seduction, teasing, sir kink, dirty talk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, auralism, groping, half dressed kink ig?, oral (receiving), fingering, squirting, cumming untouched, brief deep throating, unprotected sex on a yoga mat, creampie
a/n: i done lost it guys TT just imagining having messy sex with mean dilf yeo somehow adds and takes off ten years of my life at the same time like some pemdas shit aughhh… i hope you enjoy this filthy mess <33
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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“What do you mean you’re breaking up with me?” you gasped into your phone, holding a hand against your chest, personally offended that your boyfriend of six months would suggest such a thing. “And what about my personal trainer? He’s like fifteen years older than me. Baby. You really think I would do that to you?” 
“Y/N, I’ve seen him with my own eyes. I know you’re fucking him, and I’m over it. It’s over,” your boyfriend repeated into your ear, just ripping the bandaid off then and there. 
“You can’t do that. We’re not breaking up,” you scoffed, wrapping a lock of your hair around your finger, your lips forming a pout. “Babyyy, come on, you’re being so dumb right now.” 
“Goodbye, Y/N,” he quickly said, before hanging up. 
“Ugh.” Pissed off, you tossed your phone onto your canopy style bed, knocking one of your limited edition plushies off and onto the carpeted  floor in the process. You turned to your full length mirror, glaring back at your scrunched-up face, your hands formed into fists near your tiny tennis skirt. “If he thinks I’m fucking my personal trainer, then I’ll fuck my personal trainer, alright.”
And so, your petty, self-righteous plan of spiteful revenge was set. You were a smart girl. You knew exactly what to do to get your ridiculously sexy personal trainer to break his professional and moral codes. All you had to do was wear something impossibly tight without anything underneath and moan a little louder when he was stretching you out. It was as simple as that. Right? 
࿏࿏࿏
Yeosang was everything a woman desired, all the way down to his persistent ability to respect them. He respected you, almost too much in your opinion. Here you were bent over in a ‘stretching position’ right in front of him, wearing a too-tight pair of gray leggings and the tiniest sports bra known to man, knowing damn well he could see the way you had your tits all pushed together for his viewing pleasure in the mirror, yet his eyes remained on yours. 
“How does it feel, Y/N? Are you tight anywhere like last time?” Yeosang asked, his voice, like dripping honey, filled your body with a comforting warmth. He studied your stretching form, one hand to his scruffy chin, the other on his hip. 
Your knees trembled slightly underneath you, urging you to return to a resting position, eventually sitting on your knees. You looked up to him, your eyelids lowering slightly, a pout on your glossy lips. “Really tight, yeah. I think I need help, Yeo…” 
“Then, I need you to lay down on your back for me,” he replied in a soft, though stern tone that made your cunt pulse, getting down onto his knees beside you with a small grunt. “Show me where, Y/N. You can do that, yeah?” 
Just as you laid down on the yoga mat, a fresh wave of slick slipped out of you. Damn him. He should be getting worked up over you, not the other way around. How would it be an act of petty revenge if you were soaking wet just from hearing your personal trainer’s absurdly sexy voice? 
“Nnngh, it’s right here…” you exhaled, feeling out your stiff hips, looking up at him past your lashes. “I need some stretching out, I think.” 
“Mm, I see. Well, let’s get you taken care of,” Yeosang nodded as his lips curled up into a somewhat mischievous smile, positioning himself so that he was in between your spread legs, wrapping his hands around one of your thighs and gently pushing it down towards your body, causing you to gasp. “Just relax for me, sweetheart…that’s it…” 
You were about to lose your mind, trying harder and harder not to let out a pornograhic moan the more Yeosang pushed his body weight onto you, your lower halves practically flush together. You wondered if he could feel how wet you were through your leggings, knowing there were no panties to catch your slick. “Yeosang…fuck…” 
Yeosang pushed down a little further, nodding his head apologetically. “I know, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’ll be worth it,” He gave you a charming smile, his fingers squeezing into the flesh of your thigh, pushing you down further, until the ache of your muscles matched the ache inside your cunt. “Still hurts?” 
“No, it feels good now, keep going, Yeo,” you sighed out, your eyes glazing over with lust, gently running your hand over his, sensing a hint of desire when it began to peer through Yeosang’s own lingering gaze, his hands moving towards your other thigh, beginning to give it the same treatment. 
“That’s good, though you still feel really tight,” Yeosang pointed out, pressing your other thigh down against your body, leaning his body weight on you just enough to drive you mad, you cunt clenching around nothing. His other hand slipped around your opposite hip, expertly massaging around with his calloused fingers. “Mm, you’re almost there. Just a little more…” 
“Yes, sir,” you sighed out, swearing you heard Yeosang’s breath get caught inside his throat just as soon as you felt something hard and heavy forming against your lower abdomen, hoping you weren’t just imagining it with your overheated brain. “It’s just so hard, Yeo…be gentle…” 
Yeosang bit into his bottom lip, coming to terms with your current shared predicament, wondering if you were both on the same page, but not fully knowing if he should cross several professional boundaries or not. Regardless, here he was, already pressing his stiff cock into his very young, very horny client’s cunt through her soaked leggings. What did he have to lose? 
“Gentle, huh?” he chuckled deeply, pulling back slightly to admire the sight of your soaked cunt through your slick-stained leggings. “Sure you don’t want it rough, considering the way you’ve been dripping for me this entire time?” He ran two fingers down the legging seam that separated your puffy folds, rubbing them into your clit, making you let out another gasp. “Thought you could hide this from me, did you? I could feel how wet you were getting…”
“Fuck– Nooo, Yeo, I just wanted you to see it for yourself,” you answered whinily, spreading your legs open just a little wider, grabbing at the waistline of your leggings to make the shape of your cunt more pronounced, your pout returning. “Do you like it, sir?”  
“Jesus, of course I do. My slutty little client shows off her wet cunt and thinks I wouldn’t like it? Huh? Did you think I would be able to hold myself back?” Yeosang shook his head out of disbelief of his insane luck, taking his time running his calloused fingers up and down your clothed slit, admiring the way the material formed to the shape of it. 
Fuck it. You were too desperate now to reclaim any semblance of control over the situation, your act of personal revenge long forgotten, your mind only having enough space in it to think about Yeosang and getting used by him.
“I did it because I want to be your slut, Yeo. Please? Can I? I’ll be so good for you.” You began to move your hips along with his movements, in desperate need of more friction, more pleasure at your disposal, begging him with your glistening doe eyes. 
“Of course you can be my little slut, princess. You already are. I mean, just look at you, whoring yourself out for your personal trainer like this,” Yeosang groaned out, just as he lifted your ass up into the air by your hips, licking his lips. “I’ll make you mine, sweetheart.” And with that, he tore your leggings open just enough to expose your leaking cunt, leaning down slightly to take a deep inhale of your warm, flowery scent. “God, you’re completely soaked for me, Y/N. You’ve been wanting this so bad, haven’t you? Just dreaming about my tongue inside this tight hole of yours, huh?” 
“Yess, oh my god, please eat me out, Yeo, I’m begging,” you squeaked out from below him, already teary-eyed, ready to beg on your knees for the older man’s attention if you had to. 
Yeosang took an experimental lick up your cunt, already collecting enough slick inside his mouth for him to swallow down happily, idly working your clit with two agile fingers. “Do you play with your little clit like this before you go to sleep and think of me, Y/N?” he asked huskily against your cunt, beginning to lap at your leaking hole, teasing it with his tongue. “Huh? Do you think about me stretching you out with my tongue? With my cock?” 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned, just as Yeosang’s tongue fully slid inside you to rub at your inner walls, tongue-fucking you in a ravenous manner, his fingers still flicking at and squeezing your clit, your juices dripping down the lower-half of his face. “Fuck…! Yeosang…!” 
“Uh-huhhh…” he moaned into you, sending pleasurable vibrations through your cunt, eventually replacing his tongue with two more fingers, fucking you so quickly, you couldn’t even get a chance to breath. “That’s it, baby, you’re so close, aren’t you? Going to squirt for me, yeah? Is my slut going to cum all over my face?” 
“Yes–fuck, Yeo–” you could barely call out, your muscles tightening suddenly, your lower half pulsing more and more until you let out an involuntary cry, clear liquid squirting out of you and pouring onto Yeosang’s face, spilling onto the yoga mat, and soaking into the material of your torn leggings, some dripping along your abdomen.  
“Oh my god, that’s a gooood girl, look at you…” Yeosang praised shakily, gently slurping up your squirt from your twitching cunt, moaning into it, his softening cock resting against his cum-covered inner thigh. “What a good little slut you are, Y/N.” 
“Good enough for cock?” you simply asked from below, reaching up to spread your cunt apart further for him, all while gazing up at him with barely open eyes, still swimming in your post orgasm bliss. “Wanna be stuffed, Yeo. Please?”  
Your adorably filthy behavior alone made Yeosang harder than he’s been in a long time, making him want to join in on the fun. He wasted no time positioning himself so that his knees were on either side of your head, slowly lowering his joggers until his long, veiny cock sprung out in front of your face. “I think you should lube up my cock for me first, princess, with that naughty mouth of yours.” 
“Yes, sir,” you obeyed, opening your mouth wide enough to take what you could of Yeosang’s impressive length inside, gagging immediately when he began to fuck into your throat, dribbles of spit leaking down your chin. “Mmmfff…” 
Gutteral groans routinely escaped Yeosang’s throat, continuing to pump himself into your mouth, unable to release himself from the tight, warm confines of your now bulging throat. “God, you’re taking me so fucking well, princess. Wish I could cum down this pretty throat of yours…” He suddenly pulled out, resting the tip of his heavy cock on your saliva-streaked lips, letting you lazily lap up the beads of pre-cum that spilled from it. “Gotta fuck you, though. I know that slutty cunt needs to be filled with cock.” 
“Fuck, yes, sir, give it to me,” you purred against his cockhead, sucking and slurping on it like it was candy, only stopping when he pulled away to lower himself down your body, until his cock was slowly pressing into your willing hole instead. 
“Doesn’t matter whose cock, huh?” he asked in his low, honey-like voice, wrapping his fingers around your hips, massaging into them like before, only this time he was sliding you onto his pulsing length little by little until he had completely bottomed out inside. 
“No…!” you admitted breathily, the shame you felt only increasing your arousal, barely able to hook your thighs around his waist when he began to quickly pump himself into you, your hole swallowing his thick cock up each time.
“You’ll let a–fuck–older guy…someone who’s your personal trainer…nnngh…use you like their own personal cum dump and–” He pulled out suddenly, only to plunge himself deep into your cunt, making you cry out. “–pump you full of his cum as long as you’re getting stuffed with cock. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yeah, you’re right, Yeo,” you exhaled out, reaching up to your sports bra to slide it up until your tits popped out, just in time for them to began bouncing each time Yeosang slammed himself into you. “Fuck me like the slut I am…Please, sir…” 
“Oh godd, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N, gonna fuck your goddamn brains out,” Yeosang gruffed out in between brutal thrusts, resorting to grabbing and holding your wrists down so that you couldn’t get away from him, drilling his aching cock into your squelching hole like he was getting paid to do it. 
Yeosang did indeed fuck your brains out. He fucked you until you didn’t know which way was up or down. The only thing that brought you back to reality was something warm and thick gushing inside you, Yeosang’s warm hand holding your own down against your abdomen, his nasty words barely reaching your hazy mind. 
“You feel that, princess? All the cum I’m filling this whore-hole up with?” he asked you softly in between harsh pants, a few beads of sweat sliding down his sharp chin and landing onto your flushed face. 
You could hardly move, let alone speak. “Uh-huh…” 
“I want to see it…Want you to see what I’ve done to you.” Yeosang slowly pulled out of you, milking the tip of his cock, groaning softly, leaving a few more spurts of his load on your puffy cunt, a few drops of it getting onto the torn hole inside your leggings. 
He gently turned you around, so that you were facing the mirror on the wall, reaching past your spread thighs to spread open your cunt with his thumbs, laying his lips against your ear, “Look. You got cum leaking out of you, your leggings are all torn up, and you got squirt all over the mat too...Do you see what a mess you’ve become for me, Y/N?” 
“Yeah, I see, Yeo. I love it…” You gazed at his hazy reflection in the mirror with hearts in your eyes, wishing you had seduced your personal trainer at an earlier date. 
Inhaling your flowery scent once more, Yeosang pressed a kiss onto your cheek, nuzzling it. “That’s my girl.” He tilted his head to the side, his hands rubbing into your sore hips. “Same time next week?” 
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898 notes · View notes
daddyricsdoll · 4 months
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Last Christmas ✭ Lando Norris
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Summary: Christmas couldn't be finished without a special present from Lando, maybe more than one.
Warnings: Masterbating, voyeurism, thigh riding, face riding, usage of toys, bondage, unprotected sex and creampie.
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: This took a little while longer than expected, but I hope you enjoy it just like me and Lando did last night.
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Lando walks back into the room with a medium sized box between his large hands. I shake my head in unbelief as he brings me what seems like the 100th present of the night. 
“I swear, this is the last one. The best.” A smirk on his gorgeous tan face as he places the box on my lap. I observe it, trying to guess what he could’ve kept in here but then easily give up and untie the delicate bow. The lid is removed right after and my eyes are met with a dildo, vibrator and flimsy but such beautiful lingerie. I squeeze my legs together as it reminds me of last Christmas, our first Christmas together. Lando had gifted me long pieces of silk, which ended in me tied up and helpless while Lando used me however he liked. 
My eyes revert back to Lando when he speaks. “I want you to use it.” 
“When you’re not here?” I ask so innocently, imagining sending him the videos of me utilising these toys. 
“No, now.” A spark in his deep eyes as he silently ushers me to slide my clothes off. I slowly remove the box off my lap and stand in front of him, taking my clothes off leisurely in the way he had always enjoyed me to do. Lando’s eyes glide all over my body as they make contact with his favourite piece of lingerie that I own. 
His calloused hands reach out to me and pull me on his lap by my hips. He doesn’t kiss me, but eyes move around my face. They move from each of my eyes to my mouth, and his warm breath touches my face as it leaves the gap between his parted lips. 
Inevitably I lean in, trying to close the centimetres between us. “Not yet, let me watch you.” He says against my skin and I have to hold back from disobeying his wishes, just for that little contact. But another need for contact grows, and that contact is between my legs. He quickly tilts his head up, chin pointing toward the blank space on the carpet next to the fireplace and christmas tree.
“Show me what you would do if I wasn’t here.” Lando hands the dildo to me and I get up to stay situated on the floor in front of him. My legs widen and his pigmented eyes lock onto my dripping core. The little bite of his lips force me to clench around nothing before he nods and I run the dildo through my folds.
My lips parted and deep breaths left my mouth as I tease my clit with the dildo before slipping it inside of me slowly. I adapt to the size, not as thick as Lando, and certainly doesn’t feel like him, but it helps ease the need between my legs for now. 
My eyes shut close as I started harshly pumping it inside of me. “Open your eyes.” He commands me as his legs are spread and he leans back on the sofa. I find his gaze as he watches me intently, moving from my face then down my body and to the place that holds all the action.
The room silent apart from hushed moans and wet sounds. Deep groans are kept in Lando’s throat as mine are let out involuntarily. I raise my hips and force the dildo to go deeper just to tip me off the edge. My arm grows tired but the look on Lando’s face keeps me ravenous for more.
I curse his name multiple times, eyes struggling to stay entangled with his and he tells me he knows by the curl of his lip. My stomach flew at his little smirk, and it was all I needed for my climax to nudge me. I don’t stop thrusting as I release even after it washes over me. 
“Get up.” The first words I hear leave his mouth after minutes. I slide the dildo out of me, feeling empty and in need of something to fill it soon. I stand up and make my way to Lando, my arousal stuck between each of my thighs, and slowly reaching lower. 
My waist is pulled into him, and I land on one of his thighs. My slick immediately covers his pants and the fabric of his pants brushes against my clit harshly. A quick moan fleeing my mouth before he captures me in a kiss. Hands gripping me tightly, and lace probably making indents in my skin.
I grind against his thigh as the feeling is now a drug to me. Our lips seem like magnets that can’t have any second away from each other. My fingers pull against the curls on his head as we exchange moans. My swollen clit so sensitive that the feeling of his pants against me brings my climax back up.
My knee strokes the bulge in his pants and Lando bites my lip. Each feeling making us so vulnerable. I cum in those short seconds and suddenly my body is being lifted. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he holds me as he walks us to the bedroom. 
My body is thrown onto the bed and I watch as Lando slips his blazer off. “Fuck, you came on my pants from riding my thigh.” He licks his lips before biting them slowly. “I want you to ride my face.” Lando strides toward me, full of purpose. I stay where I am, leaning on my elbows and my legs slightly parted near the end of the bed. His large hands grab my legs and pull me toward him before they grip the lace of my lingerie and he rips it off of my body.
“I’ll buy you another. Fuck I’ll buy as many as you want.” A moan leaves my mouth at his words. He crawls onto the bed and rests his head on a pillow before I leisurely crawl up his body and hover just above his thick neck. I look down at him, eyes silently commanding me to make another move and let it be one where his tongue can touch my pussy. 
His hands hold my ass as mine grip the headboard when I slowly inch closer to his face. Lando pulls me down onto him and I whine at the first stroke of his tongue against and through my folds. He guides my hips to move along with his mouth and when his lips wrap around my clit my fingers go into his perfect curls. I continue riding his face, certain my arousal covers his skin.
The little glimpse I got of his face was enough to make me feel more comfortable and my muscles lose tension. Lando mumbles words against me which sends a vibration on my core and tingles throughout my body. 
I let his fingers dig into my skin and help move my body around. Each movement he makes adds onto the friction and escalation to my climax. He buried his tongue inside of me and curled it multiple times. Involuntarily making my hips writhe. 
And just like we had both expected, I cum onto his face for the first time this intriguing night. I flop onto the duvet beside me, out of breath and most definitely tired. My pussy is most definitely swollen and I probably can’t take anymore, but with Lando, I know there’s more and he’ll make me handle it.
The weight of his body leaves the bed but I don’t question it as my eyes don’t stop fluttering. His footsteps leave then come back and when my eyes open I see him standing beside me. “You tasted so good, but time for something else.” He lifts four silk ribbons in front of my eyes and I know exactly what my next moves are. I stretch out each of my limbs, letting them get tied to the bed and making me feel a sense of vulnerability. 
The light sound of buzzing fills my ears and when I strain my neck to catch a glance at the man who holds all control, a relatively small vibrator is in his hands. I had already felt so much this one night that I can feel it even when it doesn’t make contact with me. The contact wasn’t firm, and I couldn’t handle his teasing which results in begs leaving my mouth. 
“Please Lando. I need to feel it. I-I can see how close it is and-” My words are cut off when the vibrator is pushed roughly against my clit. Loud moans and whines leave my mouth and my eyes shut close at the feeling. The feeling is soon gone when he lets go of the vibrator and it lays between my legs, but not touching any of them.
I can hear and feel it against the duvet before I’m distracted with Lando now tying a piece of that silk ribbon across my eyes. “I don’t want you to see how close it is, I want you to feel it.” The sentence leaves his mouth smoothly. 
All of my other senses now heightened and my hearing now is the only thing still keeping me sane as I lose contact with him. The light sound of his belt travels to my ears before it’s covered by a buzz of the vibrator. 
I wait and the anticipation grows. The weight of Lando on the lower half of the bed splits my attention and instead of feeling the vibrator against my folds it’s the tip of his dick. My breath hitches and Lando doesn’t take his time as he thrusts into me.
Not stopping so I can get used to his size, but making sure it happens while he stretches me during every ram. I have no control of my body at this moment, but I don’t see it as a problem. Lando lifts my hips and my g-spot becomes an easier target for him to hit. Doing more than just stroking it with every drive into me. My mind remembers every little nanometre of him while he ruins me with his dick. Hands balling into fists, but only wishing to be in his hair. 
I wish to see the little grin on his face, but the blindfold steals that privilege from me, but it gives me the one of feeling him even better. I take notice of his movements more prominently as it’s the only thing that can help me predict what will happen next. 
His skin brushes along my oversensitive clit and it brings my climax right in front of me. I allow my body to go limp in his arms as he uses me like an object. My climax comes faster than expected when I clench around his dick and make him groan in such an unholy way. The wet noises of Lando riding my high out to get him to his was more than music to my ears. But when he finally came, he made sure it wasn’t the same as others. 
I feel his cum fill me, not leaving a place untouched. Lando pulls out and his tongue circles around my nipple while his other hand teases my other, soon swapping to evenly spread the sensation. His cum seeps out of me and slowly starts to cover the duvet. I can’t help but feel aroused at the thought of him filling me up so much that it drips out of my ruined pussy. 
“This was better than last christmas huh?” Lando mumbles against my lips as he finally takes my blindfold off. I get to be welcomed by his eyes and I don’t manage to look anywhere else for moments too long. Moments I was glad were used on him.
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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Heaven and back | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Matt eat Y/N's pussy in the backseat of his car.
Warning: Soft dom!Matt, smut (mdni), fem masturbation, oral (fem receiving), squirting, multiple orgasm, fingering.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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The light from the streetlight on the sidewalk was the only thing that illuminated the car, the windows fogged by the human heat trapped inside the vehicle, with only a few handprints marked there.
Y/N found herself half-lying on the back seat, with her right leg hanging over the backrest while her left leg remained firmly on the carpeted floor, her back against the locked door while her head leaned against the window glass, eyes closed in concentration on Matt's actions. Her clothes were already completely discarded on the middle seats of the car.
Matt was on the other side of the backseat, his head between his girlfriend's legs as his arms rested on the outside of her thighs, his hands pressing into the sides of Y/N's hips, keeping her firmly pressed against the upholstery.
The brunette spread light, wet kisses on the upper part of the girl's intimate area, moving up each time he got close to her pussy.
Her right hand held tight to Matt's tattooed arm, trying to steady herself in reality, her mind divided between her boyfriend's head between her legs and the tattoos on his arm that always made her arousal intensify.
"You are so pretty." Matt whispered against the soft, sweaty skin in anticipation. "The prettiest." He continued to tease her, starting to kiss the inner part of her thighs, his hands caressing the soft skin of her hips.
"Please, Matt." She slurred, thrusting her hips involuntarily upward, silently begging to feel his mouth against her pussy.
"So needy." Matt murmured, moving his wet kisses up Y/N's right leg, tasting the taste of her skin and leaving trails of saliva behind, pulling away momentarily to blow the wetness, making the sensitive skin tingle and gasps escape her lips.
The brunette started kissing the skin again, getting closer and closer to his private paradise. His lips planted seals on her outer lips, his hands holding her hips before his mouth went towards his honey pot.
Matt's hot tongue ran along the slender space between the outer and inner lips of her pussy, before finally coming across her slippery, already extremely wet hole. The boy licked the entrance, collecting the honey there and swallowing momentarily, licking his lips in appreciation, a growl of approval escaping his throat.
His blue eyes caught the way Y/N's mouth opened into a perfect O and her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.
Matt stuck his tongue out again, opening his mouth and licking from her hole to her clit, his right hand going to her pussy and pulling up the thin skin that covered the pleasure point, his lips surrounding the little nerve, sucking just the right amount, a loud moan leaving Y/N's lips.
"Fuck." Y/N moaned, her back arching at the sensation.
The tip of his tongue started to brush the tip of her clit, starting a figure 8 movement, his entire mouth working together, making his girl's body twitch. Y/N's left hand snaked up her own body, pausing on her left tit, pinching her nipple hard.
"You taste so fucking good." Matt murmured against her pussy, sucking on the nerve of her clit harder, her legs acting on instinct as she tried to push him away, but his arms over her thighs stopped her from completing the action.
"I was dying to make you scream and cum so much in my mouth that it would drip all over my chin." The boy continued, interspersing between his words and her pussy, his completely obscene words worked in conjunction with the perfect oral he was giving his girl, eating her like a starving man.
Matt slowly lowered his mouth, his tongue still out forming a mixture of saliva and natural lube. His mouth stopped above her hole, blowing it before pressing his tongue at the entrance, gradually entering until his lips were completely glued to her intimacy.
"Shit." Y/N groaned, pressing the back of her head against the glass tightly, knowing that in the next day she would wake up with pain in the area, but that was the last thing that mattered to her at the moment, her eyes rolling back at the sensation that her boyfriend provided her making her toes curl.
Matt's mouth and nose worked as a perfect team against his girlfriend's intimacy, stimulating all the best spots.
His right hand went to her belly, pressing there, intensifying the pleasure while his tongue worked inside her hot walls, going in and out in an alternating rhythm, slipping easily.
Y/N's mouth remained open, and loud gasps and moans came out of it, sometimes Matt's name.
Matt removed his left hand, which had previously been on her hip, and bent it so that only his middle and ring fingers were outstretched. The brunette sucked the hole once more before pulling away momentarily, the thumb of his right hand taking over her clitoris, making circular movements on the nerve.
He lowered his left hand, brushing his fingers in the wetness of the entrance to her hole, without penetrating them.
"Is it good?" He asked, smirking at the fucked up state of his girl. She just nodded, wanting more but drowning in the stimulation of his thumb against her clit. "Want me to fuck you with my fingers, baby? Hm?" Matt continued, pressing his fingers against the entrance, only entering the tips, but quickly withdrawing. Y/N moaned, thrusting her hips into his hand. "I want to hear your voice, baby. Tell me how much you want it." He commanded, his hand that was above her belly pressing harder.
"Please, I need you. Fuck me, Matt." Y/N begged, the fingers of her now free right hand climbing to the top of her boyfriend's head, tangling themselves between his messy strands, pushing his head down.
"Good girl." Matt murmured, finally penetrating the two fingers of his left hand inside the needy hole, the icy promise ring on his ring finger sending shivers down Y/N's spine, Matt stopping only when the base of his closed fingers brushed Y/N's inner lips.
The action caused the girl to see stars, her eyes rolling back sharply. Matt opened his two fingers so that he stretched her walls just the right amount, starting a back and forth movement, his blue eyes focused on his girl's slender body, which writhed and reacted to his touches so perfectly.
Matt lowered his head again, his mouth replacing his thumb over her clit like they belonged there, going back to sucking on the magic spot as his eyes looked up at his girlfriend's face through his eyelashes, taking a mental picture of her expression of pure ecstasy.
"Fuck, I could eat you out for the rest of my life, y'so delicious." The brunette murmured against her clit, moaning at the divine taste on his tongue.
"Matt, don't stop, please." She asked breathlessly, her chest rising and falling due to rapid breathing.
"Fuck my face, baby. I want you to take control and use my face for your pleasure." Matt pleaded against her pussy, his fingers still working between her walls. He looked at her with big doe eyes that seemed to be begging for it, his pants seemed tighter than before and he felt like he could cum just from the sight of his girl receiving pleasure.
The girl nodded repeatedly, using her strength to bury her boyfriend's face against her clit again, planting her left foot on the floor of the car and her right leg on the back of the seat, lifting her hips slightly before starting her own movements, fucking herself with Matt's long fingers and his tongue.
She pushed her body forward, making Matt's fingers reach new spots inside her, moaning loudly when she felt him bend them into a hook. Y/N rolled against his face with desire, her eyes rolling with the stimulation that his beard caused against her sensitive skin, rubbing against it again and again, imagining how red the area would be afterwards.
The girl's free hand gripped the headrest of the front seat, squeezing so that her knuckles turned white, her movements intensifying and becoming unrestrained.
"Matt." The name escaped her lips, feeling like she might drown in the sensations she felt with all the stimulation.
"What is it, baby? Hm?" Matt asked in an innocent tone, despite already knowing what the tone used by her meant. "Are you going to cum? Am I fucking you so good you're going to cum already?" He asked in a low tone against her swollen clit, sending loads of energy through her body, his throat letting out a growl as he felt Y/N's hot walls squeeze his fingers.
"Matt." The girl released the name again in a desperate tone, her legs starting to shake as the knot in her belly seemed to tighten more.
Matt moaned against his girl's clit, curling his fingers again and keeping them pressed against the spongy inner flesh, and that was enough for Y/N, her legs shaking incessantly, her stomach contracting and her back curving, her first orgasm of the night passing through her entire body like a wave.
The blind pleasure of the orgasm gradually diminished, her body becoming sensitive in seconds, wanting to push Matt away, but the boy just took his right hand, the one that was previously on her belly, to her hip, pressing her body against the seat, stopping her from moving while his tongue and fingers continued to work on her pussy.
"Matt, I can't." Y/N moaned, trying to move her hips away only to receive a pinch in response.
"Come on, baby. Give me one more, I know you can do it." Matt pleaded still against her pussy, his lips wet with her natural lubrication.
"So good, so good for me." She murmured in pleasure, her fingers pulling his brown hair tightly as her eyes squeezed shut.
Matt moaned with the pull, sucking her clit with unimaginable force, just the right amount, without hurting her, but causing intense pleasure. He added a third finger slowly, curling all three against her magic spot, making Y/N arch her back and press her hips harder against her boyfriend's mouth, searching for more, cutting his breath out, but he just moaned at feeling. Masochistic son of a bitch.
The boy started to move his fingers in and out, curling them in an alternating rhythm while his tongue still worked on her clit, scraping his teeth over the sensitive tip.
That seemed to be enough for Y/N, her second orgasm hitting her differently, her vision momentarily darkening as her legs shook, her toes and hands curling tightly as her back arched, her tongue flicking past her open lips while pants fell from there. The girl felt that at that moment, her soul went to heaven and back in a matter of seconds.
A sound of liquid echoed through the car as a clear stream escaped her pussy, wetting the seat and Matt's face and arm, a grunt escaping his lips at the sight. A loud moan came out of Y/N's mouth, followed by a whine.
It wasn't the first time she had squirted, but every time it happened, it had the same effect on Matt. He would never get tired of watching her fall apart for him. Having his own mouth dripping with her cum was his biggest fetish.
It took a few seconds, or minutes, for her senses to return, and when it did, the girl saw Matt above her body, studying her intently as his fingers caressed her waist, a damp towel on the floor of the car and the seat already cleaned up.
"You with me, my love?" He asked in a whisper, earning a nod from Y/N, the girl too tired and her voice too worn out to say anything.
Matt slowly lowered himself, pressing his lips on her forehead for a few seconds and then kissing her, allowing her to taste herself, a sigh of pleasure escaping her mouth.
"You were so good for me." Matt murmured as he broke the kiss from her, sealing her cheek, neck, and collarbone with love. "God, I'm addicted to you." He said, smirking when he saw a tired smile spread across his girlfriend's features.
The boy bent down momentarily, rescuing his girlfriend's discarded pieces of clothing, thanking her for opting for a Fresh Love set, knowing it would be more comfortable for her.
He lifted her so that she was sitting on the seat and helped her put on the clothes, kissing parts of her body affectionately.
"Are you ready for us to go back? Or do you want to drive around a little more?" Matt asked, sitting down across from her, one of his hands on Y/N's right thigh.
"Can we go back? I'm sleepy." She responded in a whisper, receiving a simple nod from her boyfriend, who kissed her one last time on the lips before helping her back to the passenger seat, getting into the driver's seat soon after and starting the engine, starting his way back home with the girl of his life right beside him.
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