#what the fuck do you put on fucking index cards

[aeyumicore]

☾ .⭒˚ the sixth of march ♡ rafayel birthday special

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with very little plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.09k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni,  semi-public bathroom sex, switch!raf, whiny!raf, semi-public sex, mirror sex, oral sex m!receiving, face/throat fucking, standing sex, hitting it from the back, creampies, cum swallowing, cum in panties, birthday sex, leaking cum in public, please let me know if i missed anything!

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: it’s our little fishy’s birthday! happy birthday rafayel! <3 short lil (lol 5k words short) smut for our precious raf’s birthday. idk why i always end up having raf x y/n sex be in the bathroom its purely coincidental LOL

please note that this is NOT based on his birthday event story OR the birthday event card. It might be somewhat similar but i wrote it entirely separately. If there’s any resemblance its purely coincidental, so don’t expect this fic to be accurate to the event!

as always pls enjoy :) also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

“bruschetta, miss?”

your head snaps to the politely smiling waiter in front of you, holding a tray of the most delicious glistening bread bites, topped with vibrant red cherry tomatoes and fresh green basil. 

“no, thank you,” you decline politely, having had your fill of the endless lavish hors d'oeuvres at the birthday party you’d put together for rafayel. instead, you let your eyes wander back to the highly in-demand purple haired birthday boy across the sea of random people you didn't know, and honestly you weren’t sure rafayel knew them either.

you’d originally wanted something quaint and intimate for rafayel’s 25th birthday, but thanks to thomas it’d turned into a huge elaborate party with business partners, sponsors, and just so many important industry contacts. the guest list spun out of control so fast, until it became a full blown business event.

honestly, you felt so terrible. you knew this is not what rafayel wanted for his birthday, but he was being an incredibly good sport about it, making polite conversation with every single person that approached him. which was extremely unlike him, and that scared you even more. besides the brief embrace you’d shared when he’d arrived, you hadn't had the chance to spend any time with him tonight.

so, like you had the rest of the night, you stared at him from across the ballroom floor, admiring him from afar. he was so unfairly dashing in his white jacket adorned with a gold leafed lapel chain that matched the stars and moon that hung off his golden waist chain. his black tie hung loosely against his hard chest, contrasting beautifully against the shining white pearls on his lapel. 

he’d picked out and gifted you a matching dress for you to wear, and had a driver deliver it to you this morning. it was nothing short of art itself, an extravagant golden a-line tulle evening gown with an expensive sequin and pearl applique that mirrored the starry night sky. the strapless sweetheart neckline pushed your cleavage up as the high slit exposed your bare legs, leaving you feeling beautiful and confident, something rafayel always knew how to do.

rafayel looks up from the undoubtedly very rich and important man he’d been talking to, and catches your stare from across the room. his lips don’t quirk, still caught in his conversation, but his eyes sparkle as they drink you in, the corners crinkling in their own little smile. 

you grin back at him, raising the glass of champagne you’d been holding onto for the entire night, and taking a languid gulp. as you lower the glass, you purposely let a droplet drip down your chin, using your index finger to catch it and bringing it up to your tongue to lick it off.

even from yards away, you can see rafayel’s eyes darken and his neck bob with a gulp. you watch as he falters in his words, trying to steel himself back into his conversation. chuckling to yourself, you turn away from him to give a brief reprieve of your teasing.

the champagne lights your face ablaze, so you decide to run to the bathroom to touch up before your makeup starts melting off. you weave through the hordes of elegantly dressed guests, slightly in shock of how many people showed up to celebrate rafayel. or at least showed up to get in his good graces. 

the banquet hall you’d booked was expensive and intricate, and the bathrooms were no different. as you slipped into the single unisex washroom you barely noticed as rafayel slipped in behind you before you could let the door shut fully. 

you yelped in surprise as he followed you into the single stall bathroom, but the alarm dissipated when you realized it was him and not some random stranger. 

“rafayel!” you reprimanded, pushing the door shut behind him so as to make sure no prying eyes caught the two of you, “what are you doing?!”

rafayel doesn’t respond, instead capturing you in his embrace, his hands settling around the small of your back as he pulls you tightly into his hard body. 

“you shouldn’t tease me all night, it’s not very nice,” he hums, playing with a curled lock of hair against your cheek.

you feign innocence, eyes widening and head cocking to the side, “what am i doing?”

rafayel pouts, his cheeks rosy under the fluorescent bathroom lights, “it’s my birthday, you should be nicer to me.” he tucks the strand of hair he’d been playing with behind your ear.

“i haven’t gotten to see you, all night,” he sulks, his voice tinged with a sharp whine.

you can’t help but giggle at his childish behavior and tease him a bit, “but you were looking at me just earlier!”

he grumbles, thoroughly unamused, “you know that’s not what i mean.”

you sigh and let yourself melt into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in return, “i know, i’m sorry raf. this was supposed to be small, just you, me, and some friends. it got out of control so fast.”

he continues with his pouty tirade. “it’s my birthday,” he whines, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, “and i don’t even get to enjoy the only thing i want.”

he pulls away so he can admire you again, this time right before his hungry and waiting eyes like he should’ve been able to. his gaze devours every inch of you, from the exposed and flushed skin to the way the dress hugs your figure in all the right ways.

“i miss you,” he complains, eyes still drinking you in and hands tight against your waist.

“m’sorry raf,” you murmur, dusting his purple locks away from his eyes, “i missed you too.” 

he sighs dramatically, “i don’t want to talk to any more of those old farts. especially when you look like this right across the room.”

“it’s a beautiful dress. i didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for it yet,” you mumble bashfully, suddenly nervous under his scrutinizing stare.

“i knew you would look exquisite in it,” he grumbles, “but i thought i would be able to spend my night admiring it on you. and off you.”

and though you can tell rafayel is half joking, you can’t help but feel bad that you’re partly to blame for him having to spend his birthday like this, with people who wanted his attention for their own personal selfish reasons.

“i’m sorry babe, it’ll be over soon. i’ll make it up to you, i promise!”

sighing deeply and theatrically again, “how will you make it up to me? i only get one birthday a year, you know?”

you get a mischievous and filthy idea. your hands travel from his back to his abdomen, pushing slightly to create space between your bodies. he eyes you curiously, but lets you continue. as your hands travel further south, undoing the intricate latch of his expensive belt, his eyes widen.

“h-hey! what are you doing?!”

as you get down onto your knees, pulling his pants down with you in your descent, you look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them earnestly, “my birthday boy is unhappy, and we can’t have that can we?” though the bathroom is spotless, the tiled floor likely cleaner than your own bathroom, you’re careful to bunch the beautiful gown up and hold it above your calves, as best as you can.

“i can just give you one of your birthday gifts right now,” you murmur, “but you’ll have to wait until we’re home to unwrap the rest.”

rafayel only gulps in response, his cheeks and earlobes slowly turning crimson as he’s left standing in just his briefs. mesmerized, you watch as his erection lifts against the restraint of his underwear, grasping the base with your fingers and reveling in the way he whimpers into the brisk bathroom air.

you rest your lips against the tent in his briefs, licking at his length against the clothing. he hisses, hands finding purchase in the sink behind him to ground himself against your teasing licks. you keep your eyes glued to his, batting your eyelashes as you take his cock out. as the cold clean air of the bathroom hits him, he sucks in another sharp breath, gripping the sink almost painfully.

rafayel has to remind himself how to breathe as he watches your beautiful eyes widen as you lick at the copious amounts of pre cum dripping down his length and onto his briefs. 

“h-holy shit,” he wheezes out, throwing his head back as your tongue skillfully maneuvers over his glistening bulbous head, the skin pink and angry, demanding attention. you take him fully into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his slick filling your senses. rafayel whines and twitches at the vibrations of your mouth, trying desperately to keep from busting his load into your mouth right there.

you tease him dutifully, only letting his cock enter your mouth, not taking him into your throat just yet. a mess of whimpers and moans, rafayel holds himself back from forcing his length down into your warm and waiting throat, like you’d let him so many times before. the sight of you, all done up in the beautiful golden gown he’d personally picked for you, on your knees for him, drove him insane, but he wanted to be a good boy for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, beautiful sobs breaking out from his mouth, “you feel so g-good.”

your mouth bobs up and down earnestly at his praises, and he’s being so good for you you want to reward him. but your hands are busy holding up your dress from falling to the bathroom floor which makes it difficult for you to service his entire impressive length. so instead, you use one hand to bring each of his palms into your curled hair. luckily you’d worn your hair down in tousled waves so you were able to easily thread his fingers into them, urging him to grip onto you.

you hold his hand there until he gets the message of what you’re asking him to do, or rather giving him permission to do, and he hardens further with excitement. his fingers tighten at your scalp as he begins to fuck into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feel of your thick lips against the veins of his cock.

“hah – you’re so good to me,” he pants, pelvis fervently hitting your mouth as you do your best to relax your throat and take him as deeply as possible. he continues to babble, “f-fuck feels so good baby, i-i can’t stop.” he handles you roughly, hands tight and pace unrelenting, but you absolutely love when he’s this demanding with you.

you moan at his words, feeling yourself dampen in your panties, trying to let the vibrations hit him when he’s as deep as possible. you use your tongue to stroke the vein on the underside of his shaft, wanting to see your birthday boy come undone just for you. he bucks excitedly into your mouth, absolutely lost in the way your mouth attempts to accommodate every inch of him. 

“you take me so fucking well,” he whines, still fucking vigorously into your mouth, “your mouth was made for me to fuck, my perfect girl.”

rafayel’s vision blacks as you gulp around him, your throat constricting impossibly tight against his cock. the sounds of your guttural choking drive him to the edge, and when he looks down to see tears running down your gorgeous face and drool trailing down your chin, his erection lurches with the need to release deep down your throat. 

“m’gonna cum baby,” he warns, “you can take it all right? you can, you will.” 

you hum in response, and the vibrations send him over the edge. with his hands intertwined in your hair, rafayel lets out a strangled moan as he absolutely explodes into your waiting mouth. 

you do your best not to choke on the sheer amount of cum he releases, the sweet-salty taste blinding all your senses. you lick his cock diligently, working him through his climax, and savoring every last drop of his essence. 

he twitches with overstimulation inside your mouth, but still painfully hard. you release him and gasp for air, as stray rivulets of cum streak down your chin. rafayel bends down to lift you up off your knees, mesmerized by the fucked out look on your face, even though he’d only ravished your mouth. 

“that was incredible, you are incredible. i wasn’t too rough was i?” he inspects your face carefully, wiping a tear off your cheek.

“you weren’t,” you reassured with a smile, turning to the mirror and sink behind him. 

“is your birthday night slightly better now?” you tease, fixing your appearance in the mirror. you wash the spit and cum from your chin, and then dab carefully at the dark smudges of makeup smeared under your eyes.

“i want my other gift now,” rafayel mumbles, coming up behind you and moving your dress to the side so that the slit parts and exposes the back of your thighs. 

“h-here?” you ask in disbelief, as if you didn’t just suck him off. but your risque streak had evaporated as fast as it had come, and now you quivered at the idea of having sex in this private, but still public, bathroom, with dozens of people outside likely looking for the artist himself. 

“can i please?” he pouts, and you can see his begging eyes behind you in the mirror, “it’s still my birthday for another few hours.” his hands fiddle with your dress impatiently, but still waiting for your consent nonetheless. “and i was so good tonight, talking to those people all night when all i  wanted was to be with you.”

your heart squeezes at his adorable pleas. you can’t deny the way the idea of rafayel taking you in this shared public space has you leaking. the hungry longing in his eyes, masked by the adorable puppy eyes, makes you cave. you nod gently, and rafayel’s instantly on his knees, burying himself under the tulle of your dress.

you can feel rafayel pausing with his face close to your heat. “raf?” you whisper, breathless with anticipation. 

“when did you buy these?” you realize he’s admiring your panties, part of a set you’d bought to surprise him for his birthday. you’d nearly forgotten you wore it under your dress, wanting him to unwrap you like a present after the party. 

“happy birthday rafayel,” you giggle weakly, his breath fanning over your cunt, making you squirm. the purple haired artist is speechless under you, staring at the intricate embroidered sea stars and shells that adorned the turquoise semi sheer mesh, making it look like you were naked save for the beautiful applique. 

“you’re telling me you were wearing this under the dress?” you can tell rafayel was on the edge of going feral just by admiring the little knit shells against your most delicate region. you shivered thinking about how’d he’d act when he’d see the matching bra, hopefully later tonight. his words came out strained, as he tried his best to keep himself level. 

“it’s your birthday, and i wrapped myself up nicely for you,” you murmur, as you lean over the sink with your hands gripping the sides, waiting for him to finally do something. you almost want to step back and shove yourself into him, but you do your best to remain patient, letting him admire every inch of your lace clad cunt.

he swears, finally snapping out of his trance, “fuck, i will take my time with you later. right now i j-just need you.” you hiss as his fingers finally glaze over your no doubt glistening folds, the cold air nipping at your exposed and sensitive area. he pulls the intricate lace off of you, stuffing it into his pockets so as to not let them touch the floor.

you cry out when his lips find your dripping cunt, devouring you from behind. his strong fingers grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart slightly to give him better access to his favorite dessert. like you yourself had earlier, he moans at the taste and his vibrations resonate straight to your g spot. your knees buckle at the pleasure, and you do your best to keep your moans muffled in case anyone was waiting outside the locked door.

rafayel fucks you with his tongue languidly, his hand reaching between your legs to rub at your throbbing nub. your eyes roll into your head, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, biting down to stop the scream from ripping out.

rafayel is unhappy with your muffled cries of ecstasy, wanting to hear you in full. he stands to his full height, leaving you whimpering at the loss of his warmth against your dripping pussy. he stands, incredibly tall behind you, leaning into your ear.

“you know i hate it when you hide your noises from me,” he whispers, lining up his hardened length against your hole, bending you over the sink.

“i-i don’t want anyone to h-hear,” you stutter, grinding yourself onto his cock, wanting to be filled. 

rafayel rubs himself against you, gathering your slick and lathering it all over, “then i’ll just have to force them out of you, huh?” with that slight threat, he sheathes himself fully into you, you practically scream into your hand, except this time rafayel yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back firmly. your scream echoes against the walls of the bathroom, and you pray no one is outside the door. anyone within ten feet of the door would undoubtedly hear the lewd noises coming from inside the bathroom.

“let me hear you,” he purrs against your ear, thrusting slowly into your gummy walls. but still, you bite your lip, the idea of someone hearing you both mortifying and incredibly hot. 

his thrusts are rough and demanding, making you bump into the cold surface of the sink. with rafayel’s other hand he grabs your chin between his fingers and holds it up so that your eyes level with the mirror in front of you.

“watch. watch me fuck you baby,” his voice is so charismatic you can’t help but obey him. your eyes meet his in the mirror, as you watch his face contort as he fucked into your womb. he smirks at you, hands leaving your face when he’s sure you won’t look away, to grip your waist. his large hands manhandled you so deliciously, using your body like a toy against his ravaging strokes. 

watching rafayel’s cocky smile as he forced you to keep contact with his eyes through the mirror quickly drove you closer and closer to your climax, the excitement of it all unbearable. your moans echoed throughout the bathroom, the sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass deafening. 

rafayel ravages you with the intent to make you absolutely lose your mind. he wants you to moan so loudly that you can’t restrain your cries of pleasure, so that anyone outside could hear exactly what he was doing to you.

“that’s my – haah –fucking girl,” he moans, hand smacking against the ripples of your ass bouncing against him. you yelp at the contact, the pain mixing deliciously with the endless ecstasy. your walls sucked him in repeatedly, squeezing every inch of his length, trying to milk him. “taking me so so well. hah – look at you, spoiling me for my birthday.”

his palm gently strikes your rear again, “i must be the luckiest damn man on this planet. in this galaxy.” he reaches to your front, rifling through all your layers of tulle to find your clit, rubbing the slick nub until tears leaked out of your eyes. 

“r-raf, feels s-sooo good,” you slurred, leaning backwards so you could reach up for his hair as he gripped you from behind. your bare back slotted tightly against his chest and your fingers gripped into his soft purple hair, tugging roughly. you laid your messy hair into his chest, and he rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder and neck, and the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. 

rafayel always put your pleasure above anything else, focussing on making you feel good before he even thought about himself. but your ecstasy was his pleasure. and so as he watched your face contort, eyes practically all whites, tongue lolling out of your beautiful lips, tears running down your face, his cock throbbed wanting to fill you to the absolute brim.

he was suddenly filled with the urge, the need to breed you. his woman, who’d dressed up just for him, in a set that was undoubtedly picked just to drive him insane. his love, who he spent the whole night admiring from across the room, when all he wanted for his birthday was to be with you. his girl, his everything, who’d spent weeks planning a whole night for him, even if it didn’t turn out the way he’d have wanted. 

well that wasn’t entirely true. it actually did turn out exactly the way he’d wanted, with you a wet whimpering mess for him, his cock stuffed inside you while you begged for more. this was in fact exactly how he wanted to spend every second of his birthday, inside you.

“you’re – hah – all mine,” he slurred, drunk off your pussy, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each stroke, “i’m gonna cum in you tonight, ‘kay?”

you nod eagerly, watching his feral expression in the mirror. his brows crinkled adorably, with his lip gripped tightly in his teeth. “you’re gonna – fuuck – walk around the rest of the night with my cum leaking out of you, okay baby?”

you clench at his filthy words, knowing he’s dead serious. amidst the lust filled haze, you’re so fucked out that nothing sounds better than that. the idea of having to mingle with so many people while rafayel’s claim to you literally drips down your legs is just enough to have you crying out for him, completely uninhibited.there was no doubt anyone even remotely near the bathroom would’ve heard the way you wailed and moaned for him.

you catch rafayel’s satisfied smirk in the mirror as he takes you repeatedly from behind, eyes still glued to yours. the heat in his blue-purple orbs is palpable, almost threatening to devour you whole, and your grip tightens in his hair. you pull him impossibly closer, straining your neck painfully so you can turn and kiss him. 

he leans in so you don’t have to bend too far backward, taking your lips passionately into his, even at this awkward angle. you slide your tongue into his mouth, wanting to take the teeniest bit of control as his cock burrowed its way into your stomach, claiming every inch of your gummy walls. 

rafayel moaned at the feeling of your sweet tongue flickering against his, letting you explore his mouth. he was happy to relinquish control, even if only slightly, especially if it meant he could watch the way your face contorted at every little movement he made. 

the mirror made things exponentially more erotic, the way he could see his girl blissed out in front of him, and admire every single angle and aspect of you taking him so beautifully. the way you could watch each other, watch the way your bodies made absolute art together. 

as your tongues danced, your cunt clenched in anticipation, wanting desperately to release all over him. 

“r-raf,” you pant, “m’so close.” 

“m-me too love,” he ground into your ear, teeth gritting on the brink of pain, “gonna paint your beautiful little pussy ‘kay?”

you nod vigorously, eyes shutting as you feel the orgasm creeping up on you and igniting every nerve ending on fire. you gasp as you feel rafayel’s fingers gently grip your throat, squeezing just enough to have sparks ignite in your vision. 

“watch,” he commanded forcefully, a rough demand you so rarely heard lacing his alluring musical voice, “need you to watch when i pump you full of my seed, okay love?”

you force your eyes to stay open, watching the primal expression on his face as his thrusts go deeper, harder. he forces himself into brushing harshly into your g spot, his free hand returning to rub ruthless circles onto your soaked clit. 

you scream out when he touches you, every single point of contact an endless tsunami of pleasure. his eyes command yours, forcing you to watch every single thing he does to your body. 

“god you’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re gonna – hah – look even more beautiful with my baby inside you.”

your eyes widen at his words, lust getting the better of your usually sound judgment as you clench uncontrollable around his throbbing cock. he hisses at the harsh squeeze.

“such a greedy girl,” he huffs breathlessly into your earlobe, nibbling down gently, “you want to be a mommy that bad? you’re trying to – hah fuck –  squeeze it out of me?” 

his words push you tumbling into your body numbing orgasm. you’re unable to hold back the scream that wrenches from deep in your throat, rafayel’s fingers still gripping forcefully. 

“oh god, m’cumming raf, cumming so hard,” you wail, body fluttering around him uncontrollably and knees going weak. rafayel holds you steady so that you don’t crash into the floor as he continues to fuck into your body, so close to his own unraveling. he only grunts in response, losing himself in the tightness and warmth of your grip on him.

“please, please, please!” you beg, wanting him to give you everything he has. you’re still in the thick of your orgasm and you wracked with the absolute need to feel him all over your insides. 

rafayel whimpers into your ear, getting wrapped up in the way you beg for him, “sh-shit y/n, if you keep s-squeezing like that i’m gonna –” he cuts himself with a torrid curse as your orgasm causes you to crush him inside of you.

“y-yes please. raf please. i need you s’bad,” you cry as he stares at you in the mirror, refusing to let go of eye contact. you’re desperate to feel him release inside you while you’re still in the midst of your own climax.

“o-okay love, anything for my needy little princess,” he groans out, before unleashing the most unholiest of swears, erection faltering inside you and trembling as it unloads completely. 

rafayel grips you for dear life as he cums inside you, his load hot, thick, and unrelenting. his hand is still at your throat as he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot and warm on your skin. you watch the euphoria on his face as he continues to rock into you, his copious release already leaking out, dripping down your thighs.

you reel, feeling faint and short of breath, as you come down from your high, still leaning back into rafayel’s sturdy stature. his arms move to wrap securely around you, kissing the curve of your neck as his languid thrusts slow to a stop. 

“you’re the best birthday present ever,” he murmurs, burying his face into your neck and inhaling your pheromones, absolutely drunk off of you. he removes himself from the warmth of your cunt, and you whimper as your combined release comes rushing down your thighs, your poor pussy just unable to hold the sheer amount of release rafayel had pumped into you.

you try your best to smooth your dress, grabbing some paper towels to wipe your thighs off. but rafayel stops you, his fingers gentle but firm against your wrist.

“what are you doing?” he’s smirking at you, so much mischievous light in his eyes. he fishes your panties out of his pocket and hands them to you expectantly. 

“put them back on,” he grins at you, looking absolutely and devilishly handsome despite having just ravaged you thoroughly. you on the other hand looked like a mess, like you’d undoubtedly just been fucked. 

you’re about to whine and complain, but you bite it back, wanting to please your birthday boy. sighing, you lift your dress, slowly slipping the panties back on. you wince as the fabric dampens, pushing the release back into your sopping cunt.

“let me see.” rafayel is on his knees in between your legs again before you know it, widening the slit of your gown. he admires you for a good ten seconds, before kissing your inner thighs and rising back to his feet. 

“are you satisfied?” you tease, trying to shake off the discomfort between your legs. 

“hmm…i guess you’re a little forgiven…'' he feigns being deep in thought, scratching his chin with his fingers, “i expect many more presents when i take you home tonight.”

you lean up on your tiptoes, even in your heels rafayel still towered over you, and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. you giggle at the way even the softest kiss has his ears and cheeks turning deeply pink. “there will be many more presents for you waiting at home. of the naked variety.”

you thoroughly enjoy the way rafayel shys away from your eyes, the crimson on his face deepening. his excitement is evident by the way he has to readjust his dress pants, and he clears his throat trying to calm himself down. 

“you’re going to regret that at home, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

“will i?” you can’t stop teasing him, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you whip around as gracefully as you can, slipping out of the bathroom and leaving him thoroughly frazzled behind you.

–

you spend the rest of the night trying to mingle with rafayel’s guests, and trying your best to ignore the way rafayel’s cosmic eyes track your every move. the way you feel like he can see right through your layers and layers of tulle, and see his milky white essence dripping slowly down your thighs. 

he grins at you from across the room, raising his glass of champagne at you as he throws himself animatedly into conversation with his guests, with much more enthusiasm and vigor than he had previously all night. and when he did take you home that night, he absolutely did make you regret teasing him on his very own birthday, in ways that had you unable to walk the next day.

© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡

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[lovebugism]

Okay soooooooo

How bout something like King Steve picking on shy!reader, then later finding out she has a shitty home life plz

ty for requesting!! this can be read as a prequel to this fic — steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, cw for brief mentions of abuse, 1.8k)

Sitting alone at the Hellfire table, you feel a little like fishbait. 

Your spot in the very back of the cafeteria is normally full and loud — with Dustin’s bickering, and Eddie’s laughing, and Gareth’s stupid jokes — but they’re not here now. They’re off getting their trays while you sit in wait for them (and the cold fries you’ll ultimately steal from Eddie’s plate). It leaves you perfect prey for circling sharks.

You hear laughter from behind you, over the sounds of the bustling lunch room. You’re certain they’re laughing at you — ‘cause you always think someone’s laughing at you — but you try hard to ignore it. You disregard the subtle pang of anxiety in your chest and stick your nose in your book, eyes flitting across the words without reading any of them.

Someone flumps down at your side then, where Mike usually sits. The overwhelming scent of spiced cologne stings your nostrils. With watering eyes, you look beside you. At Tommy fucking Hagan.

“Hey, Wallflower,” he greets like it’s normal — like he hasn’t spent the past four years pretending you don’t exist. You think he only calls you Wallflower now because his friends have been doing it for so long they don’t remember your real name.

The boy props his elbow on the table and puts his chin in his fist, trying hard to hide his boyish beam and accompanying laughter. He fails.

You cower at his presence, all but shrinking into yourself. “…Hi?” you reply in a tiny voice.

“How’s it hangin’?”

“...Fine?”

“That’s great!” he answers instantly, like he hadn’t heard you at all. “You see, my friend Steve, over there— you know him, right?”

You don’t bother to look where he’s pointing. Of course, you know Steve The Hair Harrington. You don’t think there’s a single person in Hawkins who doesn’t.

You nod in response.

Tommy’s smile widens. “Well, he’s got this massive crush on you,” he confesses, choking back a laugh halfway through. “I mean, he talks about you all the time.”

You know he’s lying. And not just because he’s grinning so hard that his eyes are crinkled and his freckled cheeks are turning pink. You’re almost certain Steve Harrington doesn’t even know who you are. He never had a reason to. Why would the King of Hawkins High ever stoop so low to know someone like you?

You glance at him over your shoulder, a couple tables down from you. He’s almost magnetically pretty. You couldn’t ignore him if you tried — with his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty smile. His golden cheeks flush as all his friends start poking fun at him. 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs a laugh you can tell is forced from here. He doesn’t think any of this is funny. You can see it on his face. But he isn’t trying to stop it all from happening. You’re just collateral damage, really.

You turn back to Tommy with a disbelieving look in your eye.

He continues to ramble despite it. “He was just a little nervous coming up to you, that’s all. So I thought I’d do him a favor and slip you his number. You know, as his wingman and all.” He tosses a folded-up index card onto the pages of your opened book. “You should call him tonight— It’ll make his day, I swear.”

He pats you a little too hard on the back before he goes. His laugh echoes over all the rest when he sits back down at his table. You watch them over your shoulder as they fall over themselves to crack jokes about you. 

Steve’s the only one not smiling. “Not cool, Tommy,” he mouths.

—————

Locker 148. The one right across from yours. Property of Steve The Hair Harrington. 

You shove the thick card with his number written on it between the slits in the metal. You’d carried it around all day, utterly unsure of what to do with it. You decided ultimately to return it, figuring he might feel a little better if a total stranger didn’t have his phone number.

You struggle to slide it through the thin gap, though. The paper gets caught halfway through, and you try to yank it back out again. The old locker moves with you, like it’s not completely shut but still somehow latched. 

You’re so in your own head you don’t hear the gymnasium door down the hall squeal open and shut again. Steve pants heavily and tries to recover from a ruthless basketball practice. He hunts for a water fountain and finds you instead.

“What are you doing?” he calls as he nears you, not malicious or unkind but genuinely curious.

Your heart lurches into your throat as you all but jump out of your skin.

Steve laughs, a pretty sound in the silent hallway. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t— I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” you assure with an averted gaze, though your frightened demeanor says otherwise. “I was just— I was trying to give you this.”

You hold the paper out towards him. He takes it with hesitant hands. “What is it?”

“Your number. Tommy gave it to me earlier, and I know it was just a stupid joke, so I… I thought you’d feel more comfortable if I gave it back to you.”

Something in Steve’s chest aches. He doesn’t understand why you would care about what might make him comfortable. It’s not like he ever gave you the time of day — or ever tried to stop his friends from being total assholes. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the last person who should give a shit about him.

“Oh. Right— Yeah… Thanks,” he stammers and shoves the thing into his pocket. “And I’m— I’m sorry about Tommy and everything. He can be a real douchebag sometimes. I didn’t… I didn’t tell him to bother you or anything—”

“I know,” you assure in a mousy voice. “Tommy gave me your number hoping I’d be dumb enough to call while your friends were over so you could all… laugh at me? I guess. He could’ve been a little more original, honestly.”

Steve cracks a smile. He almost laughs, but he can’t tell if you’re joking or not.

“I’ll talk to him later. Tell him to leave you alone—” He rambles and walks closer to you. You watch him with tentative eyes as he approaches. “—He’s a total dumbass sometimes, but he usually means well. Most of the time, anyway—”

Steve raises his hand suddenly. And, because you’re frightened by everything little thing, you flinch and stumble over yourself in the process. The lockers catch your fall, and you hit the back of your head. Hard.

“Shit— Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you squeak, holding the crown of your hair and squinting as your skull pounds.

Steve rushes to your side, then idles just ahead of you because he doesn’t know if you want him touching you. His brows pinch, chiseled features swimming with concern. His cinnamon eyes glitter with it, too. “I wasn’t trying to scare you—”

“It’s okay.”

“—My locker was just jammed. I was going to shut it.”

The metal door is open now, from where it wasn’t shut all the way and where you just smacked your head on it.

“I just wasn’t expecting it,” you assure in a tight voice, trying hard to ignore the sharp throbbing. “It’s fine. I’m fine—”

“You’re hurt.”

“It’ll go away—”

“Let me get you an icepack.”

“—I’ll be fine once I get home.”

Steve, feeling purely at fault and aching at how effortlessly you shrug him off, decides to approach you fully. He curls a warm hand around the outside of your elbow. A touch surprisingly gentle. “No. C’mon. Let me help.”

You don’t feel much like you’re in any position to fight him about it. Not with the world still swaying under your feet. 

Steve guides you the short distance to the empty cafeteria. Slow and kind and dreadfully patient. He sits you down, makes sure you’re still okay, and then rushes to fix you a makeshift icepack — a ziplock bag filled to the brim with chipped ice.

He sits at the chair beside yours, slightly askew so his knees bump your thighs. He holds the pack to the crown of your head and gazes at you attentively. You’re not looking back at him to see it.

“Does it still hurt?”

You shrug, eyes flitted to the wringing hands in your lap. “It’s fine. It just feels a little like I have a migraine.”

Steve winces. “I’m sorry.”

Your doe eyes peek at him from beneath your lashes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I scared you.”

“Everything scares me.”

It’s a dumb joke. You mean it, but you still expect him to laugh about it. He doesn’t even crack a smile, though. He just keeps looking at you with that puppy-like twist to his features. The worry is evident in his face. 

“Do you wanna, like, talk about it or something?”

“About what?”

“Why you flinched.”

You freeze, breath hitching in your throat. No one’s ever noticed your incessant panic — outside of making jokes about it anyway. No one’s cared enough to ask about it, either. Steve Harrington is the last person you expected any kind of concern from.

You shake your head after a few long moments. “No.”

“You could,” Steve assures, suddenly shy. You didn’t know he could be anything other than totally full of himself. “You know, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t tell anyone—”

You scoff a disbelieving laugh.

Steve’s features swirl with hurt. You hate that it makes your chest ache. You hate most that he hasn’t stopped being soft with you. The hand holding the pack to your head hasn’t yet wavered, even though you know his arm must be tired now.

“I wouldn’t. ‘Cause I— I know what it’s like to… to have a bad home life or whatever,” he confesses, stammering hopelessly. He forces a laugh at himself. “Probably more than most people do, honestly.”

His admission takes you by surprise. It comforts you in a way you didn’t think someone like him could. 

Even still, you shake your head. “I— I can’t—” you murmur, clearing your throat when the words get stuck there. “I can’t talk about it…”

Steve nods, firm and reassuring. “That’s okay. You don’t have to, I was just… I was just saying, you know? I get it.”

You swallow through a tight throat, nodding wordlessly in response.

“Plus, you know, you have my number and everything… If you ever wanted to talk…”

You flash him a timid look and crack a quiet smile. “I gave it back to you, remember?”

“I’ll write it down for you again,” he promises with a shrug and a lopsided grin. It’s easier to ignore his aching arm and the ice stinging his palm when he’s looking at you. “For real this time.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[rileyslibrary]

“The Lieutenant wants to see you in his office immediately,” Soap said. And when you asked why, he shrugged and said he didn’t sound very pleased.

“I don’t understand, Sergeant,” you whisper as he escorts you to Ghost, “I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t know, soldier,” he shrugs once more as you reach the door, “just stay strong.”

Strong? Why? And what does he mean by “stay”? You have no idea what happened, so there was no time for you to prepare a case against it. You weren’t “strong”. On the contrary, you were as vulnerable as a house of cards.

Soap knocks on the door, and Ghost calls you in.

You push the door open to find an angry Lieutenant Riley sitting on the edge of his desk. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, tapping his fingers on one of his biceps. His leg hits rhythmically on the desk, and his breathing is audible from across the room.

“Sit down,” he orders sternly and points at the chair right before him, “and close the door, Soap.”

Soap does as he’s told, and so do you.

“So tell me, soldier,” Ghost begins, “what did you want to be as a kid?” He asks and looks at his watch.

“What does th-”

“Answer the fucking question, soldier!” He snaps.

“A t-teacher, sir.”

“A teacher, huh?” He contemplates, “so you liked to lecture others?”

“I don’t under-”

“Answer. The. Fucking. Question.”

“Yes, sir.” You reply and look at the floor.

Ghost unfolds his arms and hands you a piece of paper he has been holding. You look up at the note and then back at him. He brings his index finger to his mouth and eagerly shakes the message in his other hand. You nod, take the paper and unfold it:

“It’s April Fools. Soap has framed you. He’s eavesdropping as we speak. Play along.”

The statement “has framed you” was Ghost’s way to say that Soap was pulling a prank on you.

“So,” he proceeds, “as an aspiring teacher, I suspect you also liked to write on whiteboards?” He asks and checks his watch again, “you know, mark things and put stickers on stuff?”

“Yes, sir!” You reply enthusiastically, and he gestures to take it down a notch. He’s right; you’re supposed to be in trouble.

“And,” he stands up and looks at his watch again, “you decided to relive your childhood and do this?” He says and turns around to reveal Soap’s prank: A giant stamp on the back of his cargo pants with the words “BABY GIRL”, written in white paint and clearly visible from space.

You cover your mouth with your hand, and he gestures for you to stop. You nod and take small inhales, then a long exhale.

“Don’t you have a spare uniform, sir?” You ask, trying not to laugh.

“Good question, soldier,” he shouts so Soap can hear him from behind the door, “see, my spare uniform has a bedazzled JUICY COUTURE written on the back.”

You both hear a thud on the door and someone running away.

“What happened?” You whisper, but Ghost puts his hand up to stop you. He’s focusing on the sounds behind the door. He looks at his watch one more time.

“Well, why don’t you look at that,” He cheers, “it worked!”

“What worked, sir?”

“Senna leaves,” he explains, “I steeped a bunch into Soap’s tea in the morning as revenge.”

“Senna, what, sir?”

“Laxatives, soldier,” he replies, “they take about eight hours to work.”

“And you waited eight hours to get back to him?” You ask, shocked. You thought he had a short fuse. But, no. This man was calculated.

He shrugs. “I saw him last night sneaking into my room,” he explains, “I figured if he wants to mess with my ass, I might as well mess with his.”

He walks towards the window and picks through the curtain. “Come,” he says, “come look at him as he runs to the other side of the base since the toilets here are,” he brings his hands up and makes air quotes with his fingers, “out of order.”

#simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod ghost #ghost cod

[renku]

Catering Demand and Need

Loossemble Yeojin x Male Reader

“Yeojin, what are you doing down there?”

“Nothing, oppa... You took so long to get here,” Yeojin playfully twirls her hair while still exposing her thighs out, “I’m kinda lonely here without my unnies...”

“Now’s not the time, Yeojin.”

Yeojin pouted and climbed on the couch, slouching to show her disappointment.

What am I going to do with her? This old, repititive question is almost a million dollar question in Mathematics that the most brilliant minds in the world try to solve. But Yeonjin is on another level. Try with all might and sheer will, it’s always her—Yeojin always, always wins.

Letting a sigh as a sign of defeat before sitting beside her, Yeojin knew that it’ll happen no matter what—she will prevail.

“Baby girl?” soft yet manly tone, a maintained balance of persuasion and dominance. Yeojin must know she’s the one in need, and the one that needs to earn it.

No answer. As expected. Yeojin’s habit of putting the act for a bit longer serves as her trump card. Just to get this over with, let Yeojin have it her way.

Felt the touch from your index finger on her silky thigh, gradually sliding upward until it reaches the hem of the laced white dress. Inaudible gasp escaped her lips, and goosebumps spread all over her.

“Still not going to answer, baby girl?”

Yeojin is a tough cookie to break. Well, you already did literally before but it’s the attitude. She could just gave a nod or a simple 'yes' or 'no' to make things easier. If a newbie managed to survive the job as her manager, it’ll be a breakthrough. But here you are, still on the same role and job.

It would only be a matter of time before the others arrive. Compromising others’ time and schedule would spell disaster. Raising the hem of her dress, a pleasant smell greeted your nose—fresh rose scent from her favorite feminine wash, and visual blessing by means of a matched red-laced panties; enough to increase the blood flow in all the right areas in your body.

As much as you want to tease Yeojin first, it’s just simply impractical and dangerous at the current circumstances.

Grabbing and pulling her undergarments in one go; almost breaking it at the process. Your hands found their place in Yeojin's petite cheeks—oh, for the love of Venus—supple and irresistible.

“O- op- uhm– Daddy?”

Thank God, she finally spoke. And she just used her ultimate move. The perfect trigger—climbing to the level of overdrive.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Will Daddy punish me for not behaving good?” Yeojin turned around to look at you with her half-lidded eyes. Fuck. So vulnerable yet ruinable.

“Yes, my baby girl needs to learn again to listen.”

Spreading her cheeks there lies her impatient lubricated cunt; dripping, already forming a pool on the couch but it doesn’t matter anymore. Unbuckling your belt with haste to push down your pants and briefs in one go just enough to let out your raging cock.

“All fours, now.”

Yeojin didn’t even hesitate for a second. She got herself into position right away.

A two, quick strokes on your cock before lining up yourself in her entrance. The glans kissed her labia, making Yeojin whimper.

“Hmmp–”

“Still not used to this, baby girl?”

“It’s just– Daddy’s cock is too big for my pus– AH!”

Not letting Yeojin finish as you pulled her waist to penetrate her deep right away. Tight. Warm. Wet. Perfect. Words could not even experiencing the real thing. Its grip like it's holding on for its dear life? Priceless. That is why you can keep with Yeojin and her stubbornness, when there’s a sweet prize only you and you can claim.

Your hips knew what they suppose to do—starting from a nice, good rhythm gradually increasing tempo. Clapping sounds growing stronger each second.

“Yes- oh- oh- fuck- yes, daddy! I miss your big cock so much!” Yeojin really screams her heart out in happiness, or pleasure, or both in general. Her cute, lewd voice—the same one she uses to record their songs which her fans enjoy. Well, you couldn’t totally blame them. It’s an earcandy.

“Shit. So good- ugh!” you grunted.

Dirty, filthy sounds—moans, whimpers, two fleshes clapping against the other, and compliments of how two bodies give each other pleasure—are what filled the room basically. You and Yeojin may not admit it but you can’t get enough of each other. It’s like a need that turned into addiction. Yin-yang. Light and dark. Good and bad.

But like everything else, there’s always an end. Your phone rings, and the ringtone is specifically assigned for the group. They’re about to arrive in no time. Time to finish the business and thankfully Lady Luck is on your side.

“Yeojin, fuck, argh, I’m close!”

“Yes, Daddy! Do it inside! Breed me, fill me with your cum!”

Even without her words, you’re about to do it anyway. Spraying all your semen on the couch is not a good news for the others.

“I'm cumming!”

With your final forceful thrust, burying your cock deep inside, ropes and ropes of cum reached her womb, painting her insides. Yeojin’s still tight pussy milking you out—baby girl claiming her prize. She also came as her spasms were noticeable; her body barely keeping steady from her position. Upon slipping out your cock, you pulled her panties back immediately to avoid any droplets of cum reaching the couch.

Yeojin was exhausted real good. But she has to fix herself before the girls see her ruined and messed up.

“Get up, Yeojin. Your unnies are coming. We need to fix ourselves and everything else before they arrive.”

“Ok... yes, oppa,” she said, her voice showing signs of fatigue.

~~~

After making sure no trace was left on the crime scene, the girls arrived just on time. The assistant manager was the one who handled them for the meantime. They looked tired on the ride going home.

“Oh, manager-nim, Yeojin, you two are here already? How lucky!” one of the girls said.

“Just need to talk about something with our lovely maknae,” you replied.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing serious. Just a few reminders from the company.”

“I see. Well, we better go to bed it’s already getting late.”

“Right, right. Shall we, Yeojin?”

“Yes, manager-nim!” she responded with such enthusiasm, and winked at you before going to her room.

“Oh, please,” you sighed, as the exhilarating job of keeping up with them especially Yeojin, continues. Sadly.

A/N: Purely BFH and done in one sitting. Seeing Yeojin was just- hoo, nevermind. Anyway, the fic is unedited so forgive me for a few mistakes. Have work tomorrow but still finished this using the writing juices I have. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, or night!

- Ren :)

#kpop smut #yeojin #loossemble #kpop fanfic #fanfic #smut #male reader #female idol x reader #idol x reader

[haruchi-slit]

COLLARD GREENS!

TOJI MOTHER FUCKING FUSHIGURO

synopsis: sugar momma at a young age i see. being a sugar momma to toji fushiguro spoling him rotten, in exchange to be his personal cum dumpster.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

warnings: car sex, creampie, raw, choking, overstimulation and etc minors dni!

"Do you think this lingerie would fit me?" you'd ask Toji pointing at a Victoria's Secret dark red lingerie "everything looks good on you, but i think you'd look gorgeous in that" he'd respond "mmhm okay, so one of these and those lingeries in those mannequin" you ordered the staff in sight handing your black card. after that you took him to diner and bought him what he wanted then got inside the car, you sat on the passenger seat beside the driver seat. "did you had fun?" you asked him while he puts his and your paperbags in the trunk "yes i had fun" he spoke "really?" you asked him once again "yeah" he says, "now that were alone, can i give my momma her reward?" he adds while getting inside the car, you were taken aback when he got between your legs, "T-toji what-eep!" your words were cut off when he lowered the seat, making you lay inside your own car.

"W-wait Toji the car's window is poorly tinted!" you'd retort, but that does not stop Toji "Even better.." he says, rolling your dress up to your chest exposing your bra and laced panties, he looks up at you, "fuck you're pussy looks cute with this panties, it's like she's waiting for me to rip it all off.." he says playing with the little ribbon sewn on top of your panties, your legs were tense and he noticed it "C'mon momma relax for me?" as the tension rose your getting impatient, he drags his finger along your thighs massaging it with the pads of his fingers your legs twitched with every movement he made on your inner thighs, he's teasing you. on purpose, "goodness toji- stop teasing.." you'd moan "it's not teasing momma. it's foreplay" he'd reason, continuing on his antics, he drags his thumb on your clothed clit, harshly pressing it. forming a little wet stain on your panties, you'd squirm forcing your thighs to close, "stay still" Toji would command forcing your legs to pry open, rubbing small tight circles on your clothed clit, you'd squirm, arch and moan quietly, holding on Toji's firm arms, bucking your hips toward his hand, moving your hips unconsciously "you look so cute..greedily bucking your hips on my hand, poor baby"

he continues to rub circles on your clothed cunt, and finally he decides to slide your panties aside, he was adorned by your glistening cunt, waiting for him, he lays his hand on your thighs and the other one to your pussy, he gathers your slick to his hand and used it to lube your cunt so his finger can slide in with no trouble, he slowly inserts his middle and index in, scissoring his way to your g-spot "fuck, fuck Toji-" you'd moan he tossed your right leg to his shoulder, so he can use his other hand to stimulate your clit, goodness it felt like heaven. Toji's fingers were soaked with your juices and, dripping to the leather seat, let's hope that it wouldn't ruin the interior of the car! he's so focused on giving his cute sugar mommy her reward for treating him sooo well. your car being poorly tinted slipped out off your mind with the pleasure he's inflicting. his hands were a mess "yeah like that! fuck fuck fuckkk-nn" and with the last few thrust you came, and Toji? he's not contented. he wants you to squirt, squirt on his handsome face, "Tojii-ahh!!" your body couldn't handle the pleasure, it was overflowing.

"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, squirt for me baby" he'd chant intensifying the speed of his fingers, your back arched once again and released on his face...your whole body twitched repeatedly, you watched your juices drip down on toji's face "you're so cute" he compliments.

he drags you on the back seat. he sat on the seat as he took his pants off, revealing his hard cock. he grabbed your arm so you can seat on his member, he held your arms and neck to support your body, you were a mess, a fucking hot mess. he grinds his cock in your pussy, hitting every spot, kissing your cervix each and every time he thrust. you're sure your moans were heard outside but you couldn't care less as long as Toji's fucking you like there's no tomorrow, it'd be a win-win. his hand gripped your neck pushing you close to his face so he can whispers dirty little nothings in your ear.

"such a slut aren't you? such a slut for me?" he'd whisper, as your cunt gripped with like crazy. "Mmfh!- fuck you're so good Toji- I'm giving you a sports car next if you make me cum faster!" you moaned, digging your newly done nails to his arms that's on your neck "fuck momma your so- fucking tight..look at your cunt milking me like crazy.." he groans in your ear. He hugged both of your shoulders with one hand as the other reached for your swollen clit, he started bouncing you up and down and thrusting his cock back and forth, on top of that he takes advantage of his slightly curved dick, which makes it easier to reach your g-spot. you swore you almost saw the light you can feel the car shake on how intense he was thrusting but again, you couldn't care less, "fuckk I'm so close.." he groans as he feels your cunt pulsed around his cock "yea fuck- fuck me like that yes oh shit!" and on his last thrust, it tipped you over the edge...

"Fuccckk" you moaned with your eyes rolled on the depths of your skull, but still toji's still thrusting his cock and that drove you crazy,

"s' too much toji nn~!" you whispered, feeling his cock throb in your pussy, "take it like a fucking slut." he responds with a firm voice as he thrusted ruthlessly in your cunt, you felt your abdomen burning, brewing another climax, you moaned as Toji pulled another climax from you, your body pulsated so as your sopped cunt, and finally you were filled with Toji's thick ropes of cum. he was out of breath and so were you, he kept his arm to your shoulder as he leaned on your collarbone, "Supra.." he whispers, "hmm?" you asked breathlessly, "A Toyota Supra would be nice." he chuckles.

a/n: not proof read hihi soo what's stopping you from sending me requests? c'mon I'd be happy to make your dreams come true!

#jjk #haruchi-slit #jjk smut #smut #jjk headcanons #haruchi slit #jjk polls #toji x you #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji #SUGAR MOMMA!!! #please don't flop!

[kentosbabes]

hi can i request arranged marriage hcs with nanami? tysm

YES !!!

Arranged marriage with Nanami

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You both were born into business empires, and your families were close so it was written in stone that you would end up married to Nanami. You felt robbed that you wouldn’t be able to choose your own partner but for the good of the company and family, you bit your tongue and moved along with the marriage.

Nanami didn’t want to marry you, you both grew up with each other and he didn’t want to be the reason for your unhappiness. He loved you and despite his cold exterior, he knew that if you figured out that he actually liked you romantically, you would feel uncomfortable in the situation. So he tried his hardest to go against this marriage, but he was only able to delay it a couple years. But for those three years, you were able to go to university and have a normal life.

Nanami’s mother and father set up a meeting with your family to further discuss the logistics of the marriage, you will still be working but will be taking a break for the “married life” and to bond with Nanami. He will also be going on a break to do the same.

He knew you felt uncomfortable during the meeting but didn’t say anything until after, “I’m sorry.” You can’t remember the last time he apologised to you, “I’m alright, just a little jet-lagged.”

The mothers ™️ designed the wedding and reception all you had to do was to show up, to be honest, you prefer it this way, with fewer feelings involved, you are less likely to fall deeper in love with a man who could never love you back. Nanami felt frustrated on your behalf, being poked and prodded with questions and measuring tapes can only go so far before annoyance settles.

Nanami realised that you were avoiding him, and unsure of what he could have possibly done to offend you, he decided to confront you. You were walking back from your car into his parent's mansion, and he crept up to you, tapping you on the shoulder. You jumped and asked him what the hell he was playing at. He simply asked you why you were avoiding him, trying hard to keep the hurt out of your voice, you ask him if he was being "fucking serious?" You paused to get a hold of your emotions. "You hate me, I am to be wed to a man who hates me and you want to know why I am avoiding you?"

The shock was evident on Nanami's face, you looked down at your feet, ashamed that you let your emotions run unchecked. It is unbecoming and your mother if she knew, would have your head. "I've liked you since the moment you punched me in the face when we were both ten playing in the garden, I love you, darling, I didn't want this marriage to happen out of fear that you didn't like me back and this would have ruined your life. I am alright liking you one-sidedly, I have been used to the idea of unrequited love." He put his thumb and index finger between your chin, lifting your head to reveal unshed tears welling up in your eyes. "I love you and I want to prove it."

Nanami brought you along for a date a week before your wedding, he was running a little bit late so you headed into the up-scale bar and ordered beforehand. A man with a smug grin saddled up to you and sat in the seat beside you, introducing himself and offering to buy you a drink. You politely turn him down, citing you were meeting someone and were not interested. Not taking the very overt hint, you felt uncomfortable, checking the time and your messages in case Nanami texted you back. He handed you a business card, and whilst you went to reach for it he grabbed your hand, “C’mon, I have a suite booked at the Hilton next door.”

“I’m afraid she will have to reject that ever so-kind offer, and you need to get your hands off of her or we are going to have to take this outside.” Nanami drawled, you stare at his dark, imposing figure, wide-eyed and a little horrified by how attractive you found him right now. Oh dear, you think, This is going to require a lot of self-reflection later on.

The man got up and rolled his eyes, “Fine, you don’t know what you’re missing anyways.” Nanami sat down in his seat, looking over you to see if he harmed you at all, “My sincerest apologies, traffic was bad and I had a board meeting that overran.” He kissed your hand, and held it for a beat, “You know, it took me a while to find the perfect ring for such a perfect bride,” you didn’t know, in fact, you were so sure that The Mothers ™️ chose it like they chose everything else for the wedding.

You both got to talking, about where life found you and the drinks kept coming. You started to get a little tipsy, confessing that you had always found Nanami attractive but didn’t want to ruin everything. He smirked, “And now? Hm? Am I still attractive to you?”

You became flustered and changed the subject quickly. You could tell the drink was getting to him, Nanami's face flushed and his smile finally reached his eyes.

Nanami placed his hand on your inner thigh, “Wanna head out? I have my driver waiting outside,” you nodded and he paid the waiter. It was chilly outside so he gave you his jacket, you could smell Dior Sauvage and nature on it, breathing it in even more- it was addicting.

He dropped you home and gave you a kiss on the cheek, wishing you a good night. Telling you to keep the jacket since he’s got so much. The next time you saw each other was the wedding itself. Nanami could only remember how beautiful you looked in your white dress, your hair was done up in an intricate style and your make-up flawless as usual. If he wasn’t in love, then he was in love now.

The wedding itself went by without a hitch, you were just looking forward to the rest and relaxation offered by the honeymoon. Nanami couldn’t wait for you to finish up your final goodbyes to your friends and family before you headed out on the private jet to the Caribbean.

You were nervous that’s for sure for your first time with him, the tension on the flight was building to say the least. Heavy looks and innuendos were exchanged, it was a shock you didn’t join the mile high club then and there.

You got to the hotel and Nanami wasted no time. Kissing your lips, cheeks and neck. In between the kisses like a mantra he would repeat, “You’re mine now, my wife.” Littering kisses down your collarbone and navel, he placed butterfly kisses feverishly down your body. He got down on his knees and laid you down, memorising your heavenly body, worshiping it. He didn’t know if this was too much off the bat, he paused and asked if it was ok to continue, “‘S’okay,” you mumbles, head-turning inward, lips grazing his jaw. “I like it.”

Fuck.

It’s achingly slow, the way he inches into you. You feel like you’re being split open and your eyes are wide when he reaches down to grip tightly onto your hips. “Mine, mine, mine- ah,” you looked up into his eyes through your eyebrows, “m’ yours, only yours.” Nanami smiles at you, even as he tries to sound displeased. “Such a mess.”

You stare up at Nanami with flushed cheeks and bleary eyes, pupils dilated and completely fucked. He starts moaning; murmuring – It’s alright, yes, you’ve got this, just look at me, m’right here, yeah… Oh… Feels good, you’re mine, I’ve got you… His eyes are closed but his brows are furrowed, and he pants through parted plush lips of his.

You can hardly think with the way each thrust makes your toes curl in unabashed pleasure and of course, Nanami knows just which way causes your eyes to roll back.

Without warning, he grips your hips and flips you over onto your back. The display of casual strength is unexpected and very, very attractive, and your legs spread eagerly before he even moves to open them himself. “Ah- faster, ‘Ken faster.” He nodded and started to move at an animalistic pace and speed, grabbing onto the headboard for leverage.

You came with a broken moan, convulsing around Nanami's cock. And he was still fucking you hard, drawing out the orgasm. “Fuck- ah,” you moaned out. “Watch your mouth, darlin’,” he warns, rolling your hips against his.

Nanami pulls out and he groans throatily as his fist tugs his dick and arcs thin streaks of white onto your skin. Sighing out little moans and gently writhing against the mattress, and fuck, Nanami thinks you make such a pretty picture.

#jujutsu nanami #jjk headcanons #kento nanami #nanami headcanons #kentosbabes #nanami kento x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanami kento drabble #nanami x you #nanami kento headcanons #nanami imagine #nanami smut #nanami fluff #jjk nanami #nanami kento fanfic #nanami kento fluff #kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #honeymoon #arranged marriage

[inklore]

• “if you keep looking at me like that, i'm not responsible for what happens next." For Jordan (genV)

KEEP FOCUSED.

pairing: jordan li x (f)reader

contents: established relationship, insinuated-ish smut, you can imagine whichever presenting gender but i had their fem form in mind | wc: 703

The plan was to study. 

“Strength isn’t the only thing you need; you need intelligence. Knowledge.” Brink had said. Had made it more than clear that rankings got you somewhere, but for those who didn’t make it to the seven, passing a test was dire. 

Hence, studying was important.

Even if one of you ended up watching over some city, you couldn’t do that with powers alone. Not all the time. 

No matter how much you hated studying, no matter how many times the two of you vouched to study, that’s all, and it heading south within the first hour. 

The two of you had made it two hours now, passing index cards back and forth to write, cross stuff out, add things, and prepare to quiz each other later. It was a new record, really.

For how long neither of you made a move. 

With the restraint you showed each time their fingers brushed against yours when passing the cards to and fro. It was a superpower in its own how you’d strained your eyes to focus on the book in your lap and the laptop at your hip resting on their bed, where the two of you were perched. 

Your bottom lip indented by your teeth, showing how hard restraint was. How your top teeth sunk into the flesh of your lip every time you looked up from your textbook to stare at them. To watch them twiddle the pen in their fingers or press the nail of their thumb against their mouth in deep thought.

And that fucking gray shirt. The shirt that had no sleeves, no sides. The one that gave you the perfect view of their chest when they turned and leaned over the bed to grab their drink off their nightstand. 

The hard swallow that physically ached your throat from stopping yourself from tossing your books to the side, climbing on top of them, and pressing your mouth to the flesh peeking out of it.

You wonder if they wore it on purpose. As a tease. To distract you from the task at hand, a little jest they could poke at you later when one of you passed the test and the other just barely made it.

It makes you want them more. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, I'm not responsible for what happens next." 

Their voice cuts through the cloud of arousal fogging up your brain, your eyes sweeping up to their smirking face. 

“You mean you’re not responsible for my failing grade? Don’t think Brink will understand that I couldn’t study because I was too busy thinking about making you come?”

You can see the weight of their swallow, the glint of fire in their eyes when they let out a breathy chuckle and lock eyes with you. 

“Get a passing grade, and I’ll let you make me come as much as you want.” They retort, amusement on their face. 

You can’t help your own look of amusement—a smirk pulling the corners of your lips—as you put the index cards into the spine of the book to hold your place when you close it and push it off your lap to do the same with the book in theirs. Your palms pressed into the mattress between their slightly parted legs, putting your face inches from theirs as you lean into their space. 

“We both know I suck at tests,” you let your fingers walk slowly up their thigh, elation shooting through you when you see their body lean more into your touch on instinct. “But I’m very good at making you come. So, maybe we should just stick with what I’m good at.” 

And when you press your mouth to theirs, leaving a trail of kisses and bites to their neck, all ideas of studying are out the window, and their back is pressed back against the pillows, pulling you on top of them. 

“If you fail this test, I’m not letting you put your mouth on me for a week,” they say into your mouth. A gasp followed behind it as your hand moves to the part of their body that’s begging for you. “A couple days at least,” they moan.

#jordan li x you #jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #gen v x reader #jordan li fanfic #jordan li x y/n #jordan li fic #jordan li blurb #gen v x you #gen v fic #ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ blurb night

[fieryland]

Smoke on the Water (Eren Jaeger)

tw stepcest, smut, scroll if you don’t like it

note I know you sluts love stepcest the most so here you go <3

wc 2.9k

-

Right now, you were home from shopping with Eren. You had dragged him around left and right, made him carry your bags and slide his credit card from shop to shop. The least you could do is ask him if he wants to see everything you bought, putting on a “fashion show” for him after pushing him down on the couch. From your pretty dresses to your new lacey panties and bras. “A little much, don’t you think? Who’s all this for anyway?” eren’s fingers drag along the lace as his curiosity gets the best of him, the glow of your skin instinctively pushing against his touch.

“Why do you care so much?” you giggle “You jealous or somethin’?”

At that he doesn’t say much, the roll of his eyes and reach for his pack of cigarettes mainly spoke for him. Your parents weren’t home so he thought— hey, why the fuck not?

You plop down next to him, albeit in your bra and panties, as he rolls the filter of the cig between his fingertips. The very same ones that touched up on you a second ago. You admire your big brothers hands; large but boney, invisible remnants of your skin spreading through his fingerprints like wildfire.

He hangs the cigarette between his lips and lights it up, the spark of the lighter evaporating in some kind of slow motion. You miss the way it falls to the fur carpeting underneath you, no, you were above it now and it’s never been so clear until today. His eyebrows furrowed in relief of sucking in the smoke. His technique consisted of holding it in his mouth before inhaling— a way of emulsifying before it resounds in his lungs. He turns to you and puffs out a wave of grey air into your face.

You twist your nose in disgust. But was it at the act of smoking, or the trail of slick forming on your panties? He was your brother and all but… God, was he always this hot?

“What? You don’t like it?” he scoffs “You better not tell on me, sis, I trust you. You’ve gotten kinda cool these past few days.” Eren nods his head at the praise, his bun bumping up and down along with him. He surprisingly wasn’t wrong. He went from your typical older brother— y’know, the one that spits in your orange juice out of spite and nuzzles your face into his armpits after hitting the gym? Yeah. Well, now that you’ve given each other a chance, you noticed you actually reap the benefits of hanging out more than you’d like to admit.

Still, you decide to tease. “Uh huh, and you’re still lame as fuck.” maybe that lie was too transparent considering the fact that he flat out laughed at you. You kick his foot like some sort of brat that didn’t get her way and, shit, Eren totally thinks you’re adorable.

“You look good, though.” he takes the chance to compliment you and registers your appearance to use as jerk off material later that night. You were his baby sister but.. that didn’t seem to matter too much right now.

Suddenly, you were more aware of yourself. You acknowledge the breeze that overtakes your body and eases you back into reality, the pulse inside your ears and the stream of your blood. You were conscious, awake and alive. You felt that much more naked and Eren was that much closer to you.

Your face heats up and you cower. “Aw,” Eren coos “don’t get all shy on me now, sis.” he takes another puff before resting his hand on your thigh. A comforting habit of tapping his index finger against your skin, though it felt different now.

“It’s a good thing I’m your brother, right?” he pulls up the elastic of your underwear and watches it snap back against your hip “If someone else saw you like this,” he swallows “it wouldn’t end well for them.”

You take into account the way Eren stares you down head to toe, the parting of his lips when his eyes dart to your soiled cunt and doughy thighs. His attempt at diluting his adoration by putting out the cigarette has clearly failed.

You despise the way you were so caught off guard. I mean, this was your big brother for God’s sake. Yet, you felt as though you were a deer in headlights— as if he were pointing a lamp at your face during one of those interrogations you always see on tv. So, you step up your game.

“Don’t worry,” you roll your eyes; forcibly, but you kept your cool nonetheless. “this isn’t for anyone.”

The screaming and dark blue lighting of whatever horror movie is playing illuminates most of the living room; it being the main source of light accessorised with a kitchen lamp in the far corner is what made everything seem even more intimate with Eren. Your voice drowned out the harsh stabbing sounds of the film— those stupid sound effects you absolutely loathed were taking up the entire screen now. You think to yourself how they couldn’t have made it sound any more dramatic than it already is, but your assumptions were dead wrong.

You begin to think your response to Eren might’ve been a tricky one the minute he flashes his canine ridden smile as though you were challenging him. “Good, then,” he gives you a one-over glance with half lidded eyes “it’s just for me.”

When he turns to the movie, you catch a glimpse of his side profile. His teeth just as white that rendered you just as crazy as before— and the upturn of his nostrils that follow his smile resulted in complete static noise inside your brain. You were practically melting, and he was practically high-fiving himself for the perverted comment he managed to land onto you.

There’s never been a sincere moment where you weren’t absolutely blinded by your big brothers looks. From when you were just two little brats that chased each other around, you had a crush on him. You distinctly remember when it all started; that day you had scuffed your knees and saw the worry in his big eyes, those same big eyes that were now bloodthirsty and dark— maybe you were too small to understand what a crush truly was, but never too old to remember those butterflies that tormented your stomach.

Then there were the stages of getting older, but, you two never grew apart like most siblings. Sure, he’d slam the door on you from time to time, he was a boy after all. But ultimately he remained protective and kept you attached to his hip. You would still sit on his lap and track his hair growth over the years, as well as hold his hand everywhere you went. Sometimes, it was as if you were virtually holding his hand by the way you’d hit his line and complain about poor excuses of boys that kept making passes at you. And I mean poor, Eren had set insanely high standards for what a man should be.

To elaborate, before you entered high school, you recall a moment in which he had whispered to you ‘don’t let any boys touch you.’ Similar to what he said right before you advanced to college. So, being the good little sis you are; you comply.

And now here you were, still stupidly crushing on him and his stupid smile, his stupid hair and his stupid clothes and stupid taste in movies. The word ‘crush’ was best to describe your relationship considering the fact that the two of you had never outright done anything. You shared your first kiss together as teenagers during a night of you not being able to sleep alone, but that was it. However, there’s no denying the amounts of times you would steal his cologne, spray it on your massive teddy bear and ride it late at night. The faster Eren’s bottle began to empty, the more you did it, and the closer he got to finding out.

How he found out was entirely ridiculous.

3am, the witches hour, he had gone to rinse the cum off his navel after pumping his cock a little too hard at pictures of you. At that point, post nut clarity was a nobody to a guy like him, way different from the first time. He had primarily discerned a sick feeling to his stomach for getting turned on by his baby sister, but the more he did it, the more he needed it. He knew he couldn’t finish without you at least crossing his mind. He was fucked up, and he had just found out you were too.

Those moans, there’s no mistaking them. God, you sounded so pretty moaning his name, he almost beat his shit all over again right then and there. Yet Eren was at a disadvantage. He felt as though you had cursed him by completely closing that door of yours. Leaving him in the darkness, yet gifting him with the warmth of your moans. He still inwardly hammers himself for never getting a chance to see you. But he was here now, a spark of the flame you were igniting. Consequently, he takes his chance.

“She kinda looks like you.” head tilted in a puppy-like manner, Eren’s nose points towards a promiscuous lady in the movie. She seemed to be jerking off her male companion, unremarkably participating in a sex scene. Just what kind of horror movie is this?

Out on this scene, however, you laugh at him. “Ugh,” you land a well defended punch to his arm “God, you really are gross y’know that?”

Her head might as well be a chunk of iron is what Eren’s brain was narrating so far. He ought to think you were stupid enough not to see right through him, but you knew better than that.

You rest the subject of the matter — your head — onto his shoulder and curl up into his side. “Shut up, you love me.” His voice guides the vibrations of his body.

You decide to bring him to the test. Notably, you guide your hand underneath his shirt and to his stomach. Caught in between his bellybutton and crotch, you roll the dice.

“Mmmm, do I?” You speak closely to his neck and let your nails ruminate his skin as you glance up to him. To your surprise, he was doing so first. You didn’t even need to look at his growing hard on to notice it was there. You both knew. He felt it, you felt it. Only one of you had to speak up about it.

“I think you love me more, ‘ren.” your eyes make a quick trip to his bulge and back to him to deliver the message.

Eren was losing his mind, but not as off guard as you wanted him to be. He still had the pluck to lean into your face and grin. “Oh yeah?” he licks his lips, some sort of attempt at challenging you. “If you didn’t love me, would you do this?” his hand embraces yours before placing it right over his clothed cock. He was bold— too bold. You were beginning to understand that you’ve just lost at this lifelong game you two had going on.

Your mouth slightly parts at him keeping his hand over your very own, squeezing it in a way of taking the lead. Yet when his lips capture yours into a kiss, the squeeze remained.

Your lips moved against his and your first thought was… nothing. You couldn’t even think at this point. He tasted so good, a mix of cherry and the aftertaste of worn down smoke. You continue to grab at his crotch after he takes ahold of your face— catching a better angle at slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

You press against his bulge as you continue kissing, tongues sliding and spit almost pooling out as he reaches to unbuckle his belt and does exactly so. You pull away from each other momentarily to see the anticipated.

His dick was free, fully erect and painfully hard on his stomach, definitely huge. Everything pretty much checks out. Not just that, but it’s the biggest fucking cock you’ve seen up close; strong and tan at the base, pink and sensitive at the tip.

You accidentally wince at the sight and he scoffs with his head thrown back. “Hmm? Too big for you, baby?” normally, his shit-eating grin and know it all attitude would annoy the hell out of you, but the way he takes his cock into his hand, shakes it and gives it a few pumps makes you rock your hips into the couch cushion.

He steals another kiss before placing your hand on his dick and wrapping his around yours. He moans as he thinks finally.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” he mumbles next to you, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure of his baby sis holding his fat cock. He begins to move his hand over yours, guiding you over the incredible length of him. He leans back in to kiss you as you’re fully stroking him now— but he squeezes your cheeks as a way of getting you to stick your tongue out, and he licks it entirely before kissing you. Was it filthy? Vile? Yes, but he got off on that.

“Mm, fuck.” You whine against his lips, now pumping him up and down all on your own. “Oh fuck,” Eren groans, just barely making out with you. “Strokin’ your big brothers cock.. what a fucking whore.” he teases with a smirk of pure bliss and pleasure.

Sloppy, wet, needy and rough were the words to describe this picture perfect scenario. Kissing wasn’t a foreign act to either of you, but the whole eating-each-other-alive deed made it seem like so.

You had spit on your hand to let it glide easier, that included collecting his precum on your thumb and spreading it all over his dick. His thick cock was throbbing in your hand, leaking as desperately as you were kissing him. You felt it, all of it.

You continue jerking him off and, shit, that look on his face.

His eyes half open yet glued onto you, peeking through the hair that fell loose out of his bun, mouth slightly agape rounded with his newly plump lips due to all the kissing, and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure created a newfound heaven right here on earth. The slick sounds of your hand moving up and down his length generated the perfect combination with his moans and sick mutters of swear words.

He bites his lip before speaking, “Oh fuck. You like that? You like my cock in your hand, baby?” he huffs and you promise, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

Erens head was in the fucking clouds, your moans and little hand around him was going to make him cum so fucking hard. It’s embarrassing, almost, how the best he’s ever cum is about to be with his little sister. Your tight grip on his cock was bringing him closer and closer to his high. Consider him a sick fuck for being so turned on by you. Sue him, even. He couldn’t care less, his baby sis just felt way better than any girl he’s ever been with.

He involuntarily bucks his hips up into your hand— fucking it and still letting out deep groans that made your pussy drip and your arousal as high as it can be. You moan along with him, watching him use your hand like it was just another hole to fuck, yet you indulge by pumping him back down.

“Tight fuckin’ hand,” he speaks through gritted teeth “gonna cum, sis. Gonna make me cum so fucking hard, holy shit.” He talks and talks and talks, spits disgusting nonsense as you moan his name back at him.

“Shit, baby, this is wrong,” he claims yet he’s still chasing his high within you. “So wrong. Shouldn’t be doing this but— ah, fuck. You feel so good. Wanna make your big brother cum all over this little hand. Yeah?”

“Please, want your cum.”

At your whines and pleads, he cums. He’s spurting thick white ropes of cum all around your knuckles and fingers, they grow bubbly as you pump him through his orgasm, riding him through to the end.

Hot groans and praises drip from his tongue and beat your stomach up with butterflies. Eren looked so beautiful, his hair down and out of his bun, cheeks flushed and biting his lip when he empties his balls into your hand. Your face grows warm at the view.

He stills before your hand does, trying to catch his breath. “Fuck.” he laughs out, slightly sweaty but his worries trip over the edge and wash away as soon as he sees your pretty little smile. You were collecting the rest of his cum onto your palms and bringing it to your lips. He watched, dick pulsating and everything, as you licked it clean and sold out an unreadable expression at the taste. It was warm, weird to the touch of your throat but your taste buds registered a certain satisfactorily flavor you couldn’t quite make out. Maybe because you were aroused, or wanted to impress him that bad, either way it was worth all your efforts the minute he connected his lips with yours in the form of a deep kiss. Wild and unhinged, yes. But he messily tasted his cum off you and that was what mattered.

“Didn’t think you’d be so good at it.” He poked fun at you in this newly discovered light. You roll your eyes, back to your ‘little sis constantly tormented by her brother’ demeanor.

You were idle for now, discovering stars in each others eyes before your parents arrived home. Knowing Eren, he got horny again and you ended up getting fucked over the armrest of your couch.

No surprise, I know, in spite of that, you would always be his sweet baby sister.

#eren x reader #attack on titan #eren #eren jaeger #eren jaeger headcanons #aot #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #shingeki no kyojin #snk #eren yeager #aot eren #eren x black reader #eren aot #eren x black y/n #eren x you #eren yeager headcanons #eren jeager x reader #eren x y/n #eren jaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk eren #eren x black reader smut #eren x black fem!reader

[charliemwrites]

Rudolfo time!!

(Slightly more kidnap-y but not entirely through his fault. Also, this character is mute, I hope i portrayed it well but please let me know if I’ve used any words or phrases that aren’t correct)

You aren’t actual cartel. Not a single one of them would protect you or have your back or even spare you a sip of beer. No, you’re just a runner. Transport messages, mostly. Code words that aren’t usually that clever, USBs sometimes. Once a shitty flip phone.

You don’t want to be cartel. Even tangentially as their messenger. But your family needs the money, badly, and they pay well. Especially when you’re good at what you do. And you are. Perks of a messenger who can’t speak your secrets.

In the end, you don’t even think it’s your fuck up. Just wrong place, wrong time, and a very important thing that you’re carrying for the cartel.

You don’t resist Los Vaqueros. Go along quietly and politely. When they ask you questions you just shake your head, hands trapped behind your back and unable to sign an explanation. No matter how they shout and threaten and explain how much trouble you’re in (and oh don’t you know it) you can’t answer beyond over-exaggerated facial expressions and weird half-gestures.

They drag you to their colonel and his second. The colonel is scary. Scarier than any cartel lieutenant you’ve faced. The more he yells and gestures, the more scared you get. You don’t know these men, after all, don’t know how far they’ll go in pursuit of stopping the cartel.

It’s Rudolfo that steps in, something in his face curious. He squats down in front of the chair they’ve sat you in, expression easy and calm.

“Can you tell us your name?” he asks.

You sigh softly and shake your head.

“Can’t or won’t?”

You swallow, blink once. Thankfully, he gets it.

“You can’t speak?”

Relief floods you as you shake your head, shoulders slumping.

“If we get your hands free, can you find some to communicate with us?”

You nod, leaning forward a bit. He clicks your cuffs loose and you’re quick to begin signing but he puts his hands up.

“Wait, wait, it’s been a long time since I saw LSM. Let’s get you an interpreter.”

They bring in one of the other Vaqueros, who speaks as your hands move. You tell them your name, where you’re from, answer their questions.

Please, I’m scared. I don’t want work for them anymore but my family…

Even the colonel has softened as you’ve cooperated, softens further at that last message.

“We’ll secure your family. In the meantime, write down everything you can remember. Locations, names, messages, packages. Anything and everything,” he explains.

He leaves Rudolfo in charge of you. You… don’t mind. He’s patient as you find a way to organize things, carefully written index cards organized in groups. Names accompanied by physical descriptions, where you saw them, what you brought them. Vehicles, code words, and anything else you saw while delivering.

Rudolfo is surprisingly kind to you. He offers you food and water, updates on your family. (They won’t speak to you for working with the cartel. You understand… but it hurts. Rudolfo is gentle as you cry into your hands).

He talks to you. You don’t understand why, but he does. Tells you about Los Vaqueros, Alejandro Vargas, himself. Waits patiently for while you write out answers about yourself.

When it gets to be late and you’re just entirely wrung out, you finally ask, why are you being so nice?

“I don’t blame you for trying to help your family. The cartel prays on the vulnerable. You made a mistake, and now you’re trying to fix it. That’s what matters to me.”

You’re not allowed to leave. Even if you were, you wouldn’t want to. The world seems even bigger and scarier than before, now that your former employers will mark you as a turncoat. You are, of course, but it’s frightening. It wears you out.

Rudolfo clucks after your health, asking if you’ve slept or eaten. You hardly ever have. He’ll cart you off for a meal or a nap, promising to stand watch, that no one will bother you. You often end up in his clothes, few of your own as you’ve got.

He’s also learning to sign. The first time he says, good morning how did you sleep, you start crying. He gives you a big hug until you stop.

When he has time you help him practice. He’s teaching the others too. They’ve learned how your hands form “Rudy” to help you find him.

One day, he and Alejandro sit you down. You’ve long exhausted what you can actively remember from being the cartel’s messenger. It was only a matter of time, you think. Your usefulness has ended.

“You’ve been granted a full pardon given the circumstances and your cooperation,” Alejandro explains. You’ve warmed up to each other quite a bit since you first arrived. “You’re no longer detained here.”

You nod, trying to blink away the stinging in your eyes. You should be happy, relieved, grateful. They didn’t have to pardon you.

But all you can think about is having to leave. You’ve come to feel safe here with Los Vaqueros. With Rudy.

“You don’t have to,” he blurts.

You blink at him, a bit startled by the unusual outburst. He runs a hand down his face, starting to flush.

“You don’t have to stay… but you don’t have to leave,” he explains. “We’ll keep you safe here.”

You stare, throat thick with emotion. He takes that to be hesitation and leans forward, taking one of your hands in both of his.

“Let me keep you safe. Please.”

You stay. How can you not?

You don’t actually know what your official job is on base - except that it’s a lot of following Rudy around. So, nothing to complain about.

He keeps a close eye on you always. That the others are at least cordial given your past. Has squared up with one or two others for questioning your loyalty. He’s not an easy man to anger but people quickly learn that you are the exception.

The first time he brings you a flower, you fawn over it before making him place it in your braid. After that, your hair is often adorned in dahlias and roses and honeysuckle. He swears that you smell like them even after they’re gone.

You’re in love with him, can’t imagine any other conclusion you could come to. It hurts when you see new recruits flirting with him, or women out at the bars. Can’t blame them either, really.

“Why the long face?” he asks after politely declining an offer to dance. You were hoping you hid in your drink fast enough. “No, no, not on my watch, flower.”

He stands and gently urges you to your feet, guides you out onto the dance floor and sweeps you into the rhythm of bachata. You fluster, hide your face against his chest as he laughs.

“There we go,” he chuckles, “that’s better than looking sad.”

You huff, caught between longing and enjoying the moment. He leads you through two more songs before taking you outside for fresh air, a hand on the smell of your back even once you’re leaning on the balcony.

“What is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

You try to figure out how to explain without ruining everything. His eyes dart between your hands and your face, trying to decipher a garbled message that just won’t form.

I just…. like you too much, you admit finally.

He tilts his head, but pauses to consider that. Then shakes his head and crowds close. Your hands press against his chest, feel his heart beating hard and strong against your palm.

“Impossible,” he replies. “You can’t like me too much when I love you.”

And he says it so simply, like the desert is hot or the sky is blue. You stare at him, mouth parted. He grins, swoops in to kiss you, little more than a peck compared to what you crave.

“C’mon, let’s go home. We have a lot to talk about I think.”

Home brings clarity. It brings promises. It brings you a man that massages your hands when they get tired from writing, who teaches you his grandmother’s tamale recipe.

Home is a man who laces flowers in your hair. Who teaches you to shoot and how to pick handcuffs. He brings a life where you’re always pointed in his direction, or he in yours. Safe inside his base, with his soldiers.

#thoughts™️ #cod #keeper/kept au #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #keeper rudy

[richeeduvie]

Im deathly curious to know what baby and roman’s personal wedding vows were to eachotherrr 🥺 roman with his messy chicken scratch index cards dying of embarrassment as theyre sat facing eachother after the reception stumbling across his words 🥺 how would baby tell hers?? A bit more composed than him? I wanna knoowww

The Wedding Vows

Roman Roy x Reader HC's

Now I can actually look at my own masterlist for reference. Thank you, Tumblr, for releasing me.

Here's Baby Reading Roman's Vows

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

We've decided Roman did not have the strength to do their most vulnerable vows. He would've been a little bitch at his wedding. He wouldn't have been able to handle you and everyone else listen to him trying to put the way he loves you in actual words.

Like, good ones. Not calling you a whore or a slut whenever you get needy or pffting when you get mad at him for cutting off your hair to keep it in his bedside dresser.

He still teared up at the ceremony, though. That's his fault.

It was chicken scratch vows. Childish writing he stayed up in the night for.

"What are you doing?"

"Fuck off!"

"I haven't seen index cards since we had to that presentation in-"

"Go away, you burden baby. You don't deserve these."

After the funeral, it's best for him not to make speeches in front of anyone.

With your vows, Roman still managed to be a bumbling mess listening to them. He thought he'd be just fucking peachy. All alright - but people don't deserve to hear the way you love him. And it's just weird. Like all the...the feelings. In his chest and stomach and arms when you are so easily able to tell him everything.

"And I do not love you in spite of anything, Roman. I love just you. I think you pretend to know that, but I also think you'll hate the way I will try to remind you of it every day."

Tom wows softly, like a sappy idiot.

You're composed, maybe a bit teary with it, but your smile drops in watching Roman's face get increasingly more twisted. Eyes blinking fast and he's not able to look at you.

"...Roman?"

"Just...just keep fucking going. Don't stop in the middle of your vows, that's un-"

He giggles high and softly, head twitching.

There's tears. You want to coo.

"That's unromantic."

He cries fully. His siblings stare, but Connor thinks it's sweet. Roman wipes his eyes with the crook of his elbow.

"Um, I think I'm finished with my vows now."

"...Is Mr. Roy able to do his vows?"

"I can fucking do them. Do I look like a corpse? Just read the traditional ones to me."

"Roman, do you want to-"

"You'll be my wife, calm down. Don't look at me, I'm weepy. But not that - I'm not even that weepy. This is your fault, by the way."

He takes a deep breath before he has to say his vows.

Roman almost eats your mouth when he's able to kiss the bride. It's a hungry, weepy kiss.

He just wants to keep himself with you during the reception. People should not be talking to him. He needs to prepare for when he has to read his actual fucking vows to you. Roman guesses it's what you deserve, you are his wife.

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfic #succession fic #succession fanfiction #succession x reader #roman roy imagine

[mayajadewrites]

Sweet Secret (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F! Reader CEO Levi Ackerman coming in hot. I've been wanting to write a CEO Levi/Sugar daddy Levi story for a hot minute. Enjoy! Summary: You needed a job. Ackerman Inc was hiring for an in house assistant for none other than the CEO: Levi Ackerman. He's known to be essentially the worst to work with, you decide to take the job and take on the challenge that is Levi Ackerman. Will your relationship remain professional, or will their be monetary value added to the stakes? Or possibly even... love? ao3 Chapter Ten: Falling

The next morning you and Levi find yourself at the breakfast buffet, the warmth of the sun kissing your tanned skin. You have 3 more days in paradise and you're soaking up all the warmth while you can. 

Since last night, Levi has been a bit softer with you. You woke up wrapped in his arms, feeling his heartbeat against your chest. You almost didn't want to get out of bed because of how peaceful he looked. You studied the dark circles under his eyes, thinking about how he probably doesn't sleep much. If he does, it's short lived.

"What did you want to do today?" Levi took a sip of his tea. You eyes scan down to his upper body - his chest dressed with a linen white shirt with two buttons undone.

"Hm..." You tap your chin with your index finger. "Can we look at the shops? I saw some cute trinkets there that I think my sister would love." 

Levi nods as he dabs his lips with his napkin. "Tell me more about your sister."

"What about her do you want to know?" You tilt your head to the right. Levi has never really shown that much interest in your personal life, besides things that he already knew. 

"Anything."

"Well, she's 18 and very independent." You take a sip of water. "She's always been rambunctious and causing trouble, but I'm always there to pick up the pieces. I've been taking care of her since she was 6."

"6? So that means you were 16?"

"Yeah. I... left my parents and took her with me." 

"That must've been a lot for you." 

"Some days I don't remember how we even survived, if I'm being honest. My only goal was to get Alexis a stable home. I finished high school and took college courses through computers at our library. We stayed at a shelter until I could find us a cheap apartment."

Levi is absorbing all of this information. His eyes never leave yours, making sure you know he's listening. "You're very strong." He paused and looked towards the water, the ocean air invading his nostrils. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Nothing to be sorry about." You smile at Levi before pressing your lip gloss wand to your lips. Levi watches as you lather the clear, glittery substance on your pouty lips. His eyes wander to your curvy figure - your black sundress caressing every dip and curve on your body. "Did you enjoy breakfast?" You break his stare.

"It was... average. The tea could've been better." 

"Is there a place that always makes your tea right?"

"Yeah. It's in Japan." 

"Of course it is.

_________________________

"Levi, look at this!" You walk into one of the shops in the hotel. This hotel has a fucking mall inside of it, something you never thought you would've ever experienced. "They have vintage teacups!"

Levi put his hands in his pockets as he browsed the teacups, taking in all of the detail. You've never seen him so focused on something, so you're proud of yourself for bringing him in here. You watch him, feeling your heart beat a bit faster. 

None of this is real.

This is a transaction.

Snap out of it.

"Do you see any that you want?" You bring yourself next to Levi. He glances down at you.

"I do. I'm having them sent to the house." Levi handed the cashier his black AMEX card. "I've only seen them in Japan."

"That's amazing." You smile at him. Your gazes catch each other and the both of you can feel your hearts skip a beat.

Levi clears his throat to break the tension that you're both feeling.

"Where to next?" 

"I saw some cute bags over there." You point at a store across the way. You know Levi enjoys the luxuries of life, so why not indulge a little?

As you walk in the shop, Levi's large hand presses to the small of your break. 

No affection outside of the bedroom, You remember him saying. You decide to test the limits- wrapping your arm around his bicep. His arms are a weakness of yours - the muscles look like they were carved by Greek Gods. Levi didn't move you, nor say anything. 

"Aren't you two a beautiful couple?" The saleswoman said. "Are you looking for anything specific?" 

"I like that bag." You point to a small, soft green structured bag thats in a display case. It was gold hardware, simple but so elegant. Levi nods in approval.

"We'll like that." 

"We do free monogramming/engraving, did you want to do that?"

"Yes." Levi answered for you.

You raise your eyebrows as Levi walked toward the register. "You stay here." 

As you wait, you watch Levi again. You feel your heartbeat quickening as his mouth moves when he speaks. You don't hear any words but you're engulfed in... him.

The slight tan in his skin, the way his shirt bellows over his muscles, the way his eyes are drawn to yours every other minute.

Is this what falling in love feels like?

Levi brings the bag over to you, smiling to himself.

"Why are you smiling?! What did you do!" You peek into the bag.

"Open it and see for yourself." Levi shoves his hands in his pockets.

You gently take the bag out of the bag, looking at the engraving that was done on the bag. 

You see a simple L in the center below the straps. "L for Levi?" You smile at him.

"Do you like it?" 

"I love it." You press the bag to your chest, unsure if this a moment where you should hug him.

"I'm glad." He nods. You put the bag back in it's bag, gazing into his eyes. You're both almost hypnotized by each other as your bodies get closer.

"Levi," You breath, almost feeling his nose on yours.

"Mm?" He whispers as he presses his hand to your hip.

"I thought you said no affection outside of the bedroom." Your big, doe eyes land on his.

"Today we can ignore that rule." He gently takes the bag from you as he pulls your body into his. His hand trails to your ass, giving it a squeeze as his face leans into yours.

Your lips touch and it feels like a fire has been lit inside of you. This isn't a frenzied kiss, nor is it a peck. Levi moves his lips with purpose, taking care of every inch of your mouth. He squeezes your ass again, massaging it gently after. You wrap your arms around his neck, fully letting yourself fall into him. He pulls away gently, kissing your lips, nose, cheek, and forehead before turning to be on your side. 

You still feel the ghost of his kiss on your lips and you know you want, no need to feel that sensation again. Your core is already feeling needy as he takes your hand and laces his fingers with yours. 

Levi leans down to your ear, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. "You knew what you were doing with that sundress, hm?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." You giggle, pressing your hand to his forearm.

"If we weren't in public I would be-"

"Would be what?" You turn to him, pulling a hair behind your other ear. "Tell me what you want to do to me." You whisper, letting your lips hover against his as you turn to him.

"New rule." Levi pulled your hand as he started walking. "No dirty talk in public." He cleared his throat. 

"Why?" You pick up your face as you look down and see exactly why that new rule has been enacted.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #ceo levi ackerman

[scekrex]

I swear, you can't get rid of me, dude.

Another prompt ✨ Adam and reader playing a "What do you meme" game but it's DIY with instead of actual meme pictures, it's reaction pics of either of them, some of Lute, Sera, Emily and other angels (But mostly them). The reader pulls out a card he made specifically for this occasion that read "When you're playing a game with your partner, but suddenly someone interrupts it to propose" Adam being the dumb bitch that he is doesn't realise anything and searches for an ideal card, the card probably being:

When he finally goes to put the card into the table, he sees the reader on his knee with a nice velvet box, a shiny golden band with a sapphire in the middle and Adam just disconnects from the server, blue screen, the equivalence of this gif:

You say that like I want to get rid of you, nah bitch ur stuck with me now. Also: another crack fic whoop whoop (even tho the ending turned out super soft n cute imo) also Adam's basically me. You have to say that shit straight up to my face otherwise I'll think ur joking lol

I'm liking it better with you

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, yet another crack fic

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

If someone would've told you that you'd spend your afterlife with the Adam, you would've called them insane, yet there you were.

Adam was sitting on the couch across from you while you had made yourself comfy on the armchair, between the both of you was a small coffee table and on that table was a card.

‘When you realize the song you always skip is actually fire.'

You giggled to yourself as you played a picture of Lute. Her face was scrunched up and the expression on it basically screamed ‘I was wrong but won't admit it'.

That picture was from when Lute had lost a bet against Adam that had involved you and him hooking up - it was from before the two of you had started dating and was old as fuck but that didn't make the picture less funny.

Adam grinned as you played the card, then he raised an eyebrow, “That’s the best you have to offer, babes?” You simply shrugged, “What, you think I'd play shitty on purpose? C’mon you know me well enough to know that I won't settle with anything less than the closest thing to perfect.” Adam was too focused on the game to understand the hint and to be honest you couldn't really blame him, so you continued the game without another word about it.

You picked the next caption card.

‘When you're cutting wrapping paper and the scissors start to glide.’

Adam was quick to slam a matching picture card on the table, it was a picture of him putting his index fingers together - he accidentally formed an A with his hands - his facial expression was giving praying vibes with his closed eyes and the slightly up tilted chin.

You remembered the day that picture was taken on so clearly, Adam had been in an argument with Lute, she wanted something from Sera and had asked Adam to pull some strings and Adam being the idiot he was had taken on the position shown on the picture right before he snapped at her, “Do I look like motherfucking God? Go talk to Sera yourself, bitch.”

“Fuck that's good,” you admitted quietly, unfortunately Adam had heard you, “Duh, I'm fucking Adam, of course I'm good at this game it features my fucking face and my face is fucking perfect.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the brunette who seemed quite proud of himself, “Yeah whatever Dickmaster, gimme another caption card.”

And so Adam did.

‘When your shampoo says ‘Damage Control’ but deep down you're still broken.’

“Getting personal now, are we?” you teased the taller man who shot you a playful smirk. He leaned against the backrest of the couch and put his arms up to rest on top of it, “Your words babes, not mine.” Oh that motherfucker, how you loved him.

You confidently played a picture card of yourself that time, it showed you passive aggressively slurping a milkshake that Adam had bought you only moments after someone's brat had knocked your ice cream cone onto the ground - ah good old times.

You vividly remember how pissed you had been, fuck, you remember how Adam had yelled at that kid to watch where the fuck she was going and then he had started to pick a fight with the mom and all that just because of some fucking ice cream. In the end Adam had managed to lighten up your mood by buying you that milkshake you were drinking in the picture you had just played. Adam had taken that picture to point out how cute your grumpy face looked, at the time you were not having it but looking back at it he kinda had a point.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing your munched up angry little face,” he chuckled as he looked at the picture of you. You stayed silent and played the next caption card, your hands were slightly shaking and by the love of God you hoped Adam was too distracted to notice. And luckily he actually was.

“The fuck is that?” he exclaimed confused as he read the card over and over again, then he looked up at you, “The fuck does ‘When you’re playing a game with your partner, but suddenly someone interrupts it to propose’ even mean?” You shrugged and Adam went through all of his picture cards twice.

And while Adam had been busy picking a card to play, you had gotten out of your seat and were now down on one knee beside him. In your hands there was a little box that was covered in purple velvet and contained a shiny golden band and the most beautiful looking sapphire was gleaming at Adam. It had been hard to find a band made out of pure gold instead of the thing just being gold plated, but in the end you had found the perfect one.

Finally Adam looked up from the cards he was holding and slammed one onto the table, “Try to beat that, bitch.”

On the picture he was frowning, his mask covered his face so the frown was all LED mask but it showed his emotions pretty well, one of his hands was raised as if he were to make a point about something.

At first the brunette blinked confused at the empty chair across from him, then his eyes caught yours and the cocky grin that had sat on his lips so perfectly fell, it left an expression you weren't able to read. “Adam,” you spoke softly, slightly irritated by his reaction but still confident, “I’ve known you ever since I got here and while I'm aware that we spent little time together compared to how long you've been up here,” you continued and you really couldn't help but smile.

Adam on the other hand was completely silent, his expression was blank, there was no emotion on his face at all and it made you worry that this might've been too soon. But you simply inhaled deeply and spoke up again, “And I know that our future together will be even longer, it's not really eternity's thing to have an end after all, but-” you swallowed hard. Why wasn't he reacting, why wasn't he telling you to either quit it or hurry up like he usually did when you took too long?

You swallowed whatever negative feelings were bubbling up your throat and went on to confess, “But that's what I want, Adam. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side. I don't want to imagine life up here without you as my partner and I-” Adam made you interrupt yourself as he cupped your cheeks softly, his thumb carefully brushing over your bottom lip, “Keep going babes, I wanna hear what else you have to say.” You gave him a small nod, it took a moment for you to find your voice again but once you did, you finished your little speech, “I not only want you by my side as my boyfriend, but as my husband. So will you take this ring and marry me?”

Adam dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands were still cupping your face ever so softly as his lips met yours. The kiss was warm and soft, slow and almost lazy and Adam wasn't going to pick up the pace, not for that kiss at least. He wanted you to drown in the feeling of his kiss, he wanted you to drown in his love for you and equally he wanted to drown in your love for him. “Yes you little shithead,” the first man whispered against your lips followed by giving them a quick peck, “I’ll marry you.”

-

also here r the pics they used as cards in order:

1)

2)

3) this is the one that inspired the reader picture card

4)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you #crack fic

[riconas]

aeon request, for your consideration: aeon tries to be a bratty sub, so dew takes it upon himself to break him down. aeon is so confident and showy on stage immediately, but deep down inside, he really just wants someone to take care of him and show him the care that he never received in the pit.

I got carried away. here is 1.6k of general Dew meanness for your viewing pleasure.

“Aeon,” Dew warns. 

“Aeon,” Aeon mimics. “What?”

“Hands off.”

Very, very slowly, Aeon extends his index finger, touches the tip of it to the tip of Dew’s whammy bar, and presses down. 

The chord wobbles. Dew smacks his hand away. “I said. Hands off.”

Aeon snickers. “Touchy.” 

“Aeon.” 

“What?”

“You’re asking for it.”

Aeon shrugs. Maybe he is asking for it. Would that be such a crime? As if Dew doesn’t go slinking up to Aether all the time, asking for it. Proudly wearing his dick on his sleeve. 

“Satanas, just say you want to be fucked,” Dew mutters under his breath. It isn’t directed at Aeon, and it certainly doesn’t sound like he’s genuinely annoyed, but Aeon’s heart skips a beat. He watches intently as Dew turns the amp off and places his guitar back on its stand. It’s all he can do to not bounce on the spot.

Dew grabs his arm and wordlessly shoves him out of the practice room, heedless of the way Aeon nearly trips over his own tail. He’s silent on the walk back to the ghoul wing, but Aeon senses the mild annoyance radiating off him, tinged with exasperation. He probes carefully into Dew’s mind, and there it is, just as he expected.

Arousal. 

“On your knees,” Dew orders, the second his bedroom door is locked behind them. 

Now that’s something Aeon can do. He drops to the ground, hands on Dew’s belt, purring as Dew cards tough fingers through his hair. There’s no hurry, but he rushes to undo the buckle and pull Dew’s pants down, as a sort-of apology for interrupting his practice session. 

Dew’s hard, unsurprisingly. Aeon gives him a quick lick from base to tip, swirling his tongue around the head, and earns a soft groan for his trouble. Inspired, he does it a few more times, gazing up at Dew through his lashes. 

“Don’t tease,” Dew says, dangerously quiet. “Open your mouth. Suck on it.” 

Aeon cocks his head. “Make me.” 

Rookie mistake. Next thing he knows, Dew’s got a hold on the back of his head, and he’s gagging as Dew’s cock hits the back of his throat. Sometimes—and this is becoming very apparent now—Aeon does stupid things. He pushes at Dew’s thighs by pure instinct, and when Dew doesn’t budge, he tries frantically tapping instead. 

Dew, mercifully, lets him up, but not without yanking his head back and spitting in his mouth. Some of it hits his cheek, and Aeon wrinkles his nose.

“You wanna try that again?” 

Aeon does not, in fact, want to try that again. Obediently, he closes his lips around Dew’s cock and sinks down to the base, giving him one good, strong swallow before he starts bobbing his head. All the better for Dew to not see his teary eyes. 

“No,” Dew says suddenly, pulling him off without warning. “You don’t deserve to suck me off. Not with that attitude.” He yanks Aeon to his feet and all but throws him onto the bed. “Strip.” 

Easy. Aeon can do that. He’s good at following orders when he wants to (and even better at disobeying them, as Aether once told him) but Dew doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in the strip show he’s putting on, so he shucks his clothes as quickly as he can and crawls back against the headboard, an open invitation to be cornered. 

“Such a slut,” Dew says, devastatingly casual. “Look at you. Spreading your legs like a whore.”

Aeon doesn’t respond. It stings, kind of, but it’s hot. He spreads his legs wider, just to prove a point, and tries to gauge how pissed Dew really is as he stalks towards him. He feels like prey, counting down the seconds before he’s eaten alive. Wouldn’t be a bad way to go. 

Dew licks his fingers and jacks himself a couple of times, gathering spit and pre before smearing them over Aeon’s hole. That’s it. That’s all the prep he gets. Aeon feels dizzy, out of his mind as Dew lines himself up and starts to press in. 

Thank Satan Dew isn’t Mountain. Thank Satan Dew isn’t hung like a horse, because between the stretch and the friction, Aeon has enough evidence to decide he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Dew doesn’t even stop to let him adjust, just works himself in with tiny thrusts that go further each time, until their bodies are pressed so close Aeon starts to sweat with the heat radiating off Dew’s skin. 

Then Dew gets a very eager hand on Aeon’s very eager dick, and Aeon thinks he might actually die. 

“Oh, fuck,” Aeon cries, hating the way he's so sensitive to the slightest touch, though he could be excused for how Dew's kneading his dick like a cat. “Dew, Dew, oh—”

“Shh,” Dew interrupts. “Not a word.” 

Aeon screws his eyes shut. Between Dew's cock stuffed inside him and Dew’s clever fingers working him with brutal, efficient strokes, he doesn't know where his attention is supposed to go. That and the mounting pressure in his gut have him overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, overriding all five of his senses, filling him up to the brim.

“Hey,” Dew says sharply. “Focus.” He slaps Aeon’s cheek, hard enough to sting, and Aeon can’t stop the whimper he lets out in response. Tragic, honestly. Pathetic sort of demon he is, whining over a little slap. He's never been a huge fan of rough treatment, never really sought it out on purpose, but it’s Dew. 

Aeon would do anything for Dew. 

He pushes Dew’s hand away, grabs Dew’s hips to try and slow down the brutal pace he’s setting. Focus, he tells himself, focus, Aeon, which doesn’t help in the slightest. He knew what he was getting himself into—to an extent—yet nothing's really prepared him for how harshly Dew's ramming his cock in.

“Dew,” Aeon tries to say, and immediately regrets opening his mouth when it comes out pitifully shaky. “Dew, I can’t—please. Please.”

Dew smiles, and Aeon’s heart sinks. “What?” 

Aeon shakes his head. He can’t say it now. Not with Dew staring at him like that. 

“Use your words,” Dew says, a little mean, a little playful. “I’m not Aether. I can’t read your mind.”

“I—” Aeon starts, and immediately forgets what he was about to say. “Can you—oh, slower, slower, please—”

Dew scoffs. “Slower? Someone wants to be treated nicely?” His voice drips with sarcasm, saccharine. Like it’s a laughable prospect, a ridiculous idea. “Someone wants to be treated like a princess? Wants to make love?” He splays his fingers across Aeon’s cheek, pushing his face aside and into the mattress. The motion is so careless, so thoughtless. Aeon’s chest gives a sad little twist. 

“Please don’t mock me,” Aeon begs. “Please. Please don’t.”

“I’ll treat you nicely,” Dew says, sounding decidedly not very nice at all. “You want that? The brat wants to be treated nicely?” 

Aeon’s expression turns pained. “Dew, please.” 

Something shifts. Dew’s rhythm falters. “Please what?” he snaps, but the malice is gone, and it comes out almost helpless, half-hearted. 

Please what? Aeon doesn’t actually know. Does he want Dew to treat him nicely? He can’t say that out loud; Dew would tease him for weeks. The whole pack would tease him, he knows it—he isn’t as tough as they are, can’t handle what they can. What a shame that he wants to be treated gently, wants to be cared for. 

Wants to be loved. 

“Please,” he says again, hoping and hoping that Dew understands. 

“You want that?” Dew asks, sounding awfully fond. 

Aeon gropes for Dew’s hand, desperate for something to hold. He swears he’s floating away, his brain thoroughly mushed, his nerve endings thoroughly fried. Dew pins his wrist to the mattress, but laces their fingers together anyway, kind enough to indulge him. 

“You’re hopeless,” Dew says affectionately. “Just wanted my attention, didn’t you? Acting like a brat to get me all riled up?”

Yeah, Aeon almost replies, but before he can react, Dew’s pulling out and flipping him over unceremoniously, giving his ass a slap as he manhandles him onto his hands and knees. His elbows wobble, weak as a newborn calf. He’s almost thankful when Dew presses between his shoulder blades until he collapses to his chest. It punches a grunt out of him, and he’s embarrassed until Dew folds an arm around his waist, the other across his shoulders. 

“It’s alright,” Dew tells him, breath hot in his ear. “I’ll be nice to you. Just take it.”

And take it, Aeon does. Not that he has a choice, but it feels better thinking he does, especially when Dew slides into him with no effort and hoists him up, stronger than he looks, until his sweaty back is pressed to Dew’s scorching chest. 

Aeon hopes it burns him. Aeon hopes Dew brands him like this, leaves his mark forever.

He truly has gone insane. 

Then Dew’s spindly fingers close around his throat, and Aeon wonders he may have gone about this the wrong way. 

“No,” Aeon gasps. “Don’t choke me. Please. Just—hold, like this—” He puts his hand over Dew’s and slots his fingers in the spaces between. The pressure eases. “Yeah. M’sorry I—don’t want it like that, sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Dew murmurs.

“I just—”

“I know.” Dew presses his index finger over Aeon’s lips, shutting him up. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

Aeon nods deliriously, and lets his head fall back against Dew’s shoulder. It feels like lying on a table leg, and isn’t comfortable in the slightest, but Aeon’s too out of it to care. He likes this version of Dewdrop, he decides. Prefers it to the default setting. 

Perhaps Dew was right. It would have been easier to ask. 

“You wanna cum like this?” Dew asks, disastrously sweet. 

Fuck he does. He’ll die if he doesn’t, he swears—

“Please,” Aeon gasps for the millionth time. “Please let me.” 

Dew kisses his neck, his jaw, the shell of his ear. So gentle. So hot, like dragging burning coals across his skin, and Aeon knows for sure, right then and there, that he would set himself on fire to keep Dew warm. 

“Will you let me?” he slurs. “Please?”

Dew laughs, a quiet huff of a thing. “Alright.” 

#I like to think neither of them are as in control as they think they are #I also like to think neither of them are aware of how much they love each other #Rain in the next room over: 🤨 #rico writes #ficlet #the band ghost fanfiction #aeon ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x aeon

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 5

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

Steve is still recovering from his injuries. She's just trying to help. But tensions run high when they clash over who knows best.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, really rough sex, degradation kink, slight dubcon, also angst because, duh

a/n | wooh boy! I got a little carried away here, folks. Had the day off and couldn't help myself. get yourself a tall glass of water and sit down for a long one

“You’re healing nicely, son. I’ll send another refill script to your pharmacy for the oxycodone and I wanna see you back in a month, alright? Wanna keep an eye on those headaches you’re having.” Steve grunts out a thank you to the doctor as he’s led back to the front desk. After three weeks, he’s still not used to seeing her, sitting and waiting for him after his appointments at the VA medical center. She’s been coming with him whenever she can and he would hate to admit how much it means to him. 

She offers him a bright smile from where she’s sitting in the waiting room, a large stack of index cards in her lap. With Thanksgiving next week, her exams are fast-approaching and she’s been studying so hard it makes Steve worry that she’s working herself to the bone, and that he hasn’t exactly been helping her stress-load. Since the week after Halloween, she’s all but moved in with him, save for when her RA job or classes demand she be on campus. She’s been taking care of him, and it both amazes and terrifies Steve that she’s willing to, while all he can really do is be a human rolodex for her endless supply of flashcards. She’s been having him quiz her in the evenings, her hands around his neck and her thighs straddling his waist as she rattles off insanely-smart sounding descriptions of the brain. His girl is studying neuroscience, and his girl is going to be a doctor, and then, Steve figures, his girl isn’t going to be his girl anymore. But for now, he’ll enjoy whatever sweetness she’ll give to him.

He finishes scheduling his follow-up, turning and finding her already standing with her bag slung over her shoulder. He opens the door for her and they step out into the sharp bite of the oncoming winter. 

“Well, what did he say?” Steve’s apartment is only a few blocks away from the medical center, so they set off down the sidewalk as she asks her question.

“Said everything looks good. My next appointment is in a month, gave me another prescription for the painkillers.” He feels her hand flex in his and he knows it’s because she doesn’t like the sound of that.

“What about your headaches?” He shrugs, glancing at her and seeing the worried look on her face.

“He said he’d keep an eye on it, whatever that means.” She stops in her tracks, fully looking at him now. He just sighs.

“Steve, I really don’t like how they’re just feeding you these pills. Has anyone said anything about getting you in an MRI machine?” He huffs, tugging her along to continue walking.

“Baby, it’s fine. Nothing new, really. Once I get back to work it’ll go away on its own, it always does.” His paid-time-off is ending after Thanksgiving, and Steve is chomping at the bit to get back into the station, to her much-vocalized dismay. She stops walking again, and he tries his best to tamp down his growing frustration.

“I still think you should let me–” “No.” “Steve.”

“No. You’ve already done way too much for me. I’m not letting you do that.”

“You would be helping me out by coming in. You know I need the practice, i-it’d be killing two birds with one stone.” She had told him two weeks ago about one of her specialty courses at the university medical center, conducting brain scans and assessments that were free to volunteer patients. She had been bugging Steve about coming in ever since, but he was putting his foot down on this one.

“Hey, I’m sick of all this nagging, alright? I told you it’s fine and I meant it. Making my fucking headache worse, jesus. Just wanna get home.” He can see her face crumple at his words and his stomach twists, but he’s too pissed off and cold to really feel sorry, instead squeezing her hand and continuing their walk home. She’s silent the rest of the way.

…

Steve is really starting to worry her. At first, he had seemed to be making a change, being endlessly sweet with her, letting her take care of him, even opening up a bit about his life. She knows his concussion symptoms are lasting well within a normal amount of time, but it seems like some of them are getting worse. He’s been more irritable, more reactive, his headaches are endless, but he won’t listen to a word she says about it. She had talked to Robin over the phone about it, and she had told her his irritability could also be stemming from the impending holiday. Steve wasn’t exactly on good terms with his family, something he had only hinted at to her, and hadn’t been home for Thanksgiving or Christmas in five years. As a result, he turned into a bit of a scrooge (Robin’s words) the instant that the holiday season kicked up.

Perhaps more than anything though, she doesn’t understand why he’s so eager to get back to work after he nearly died on the job. She had actually started inquiring at her school about admittance for veterans, reading whatever information she could get her hands on. It’d be practically free at a state school like Indiana University, with vets nearly sure to be accepted. She hadn’t yet broached the subject with him, knowing it’d probably lead to a huge blowout argument, but she had convinced him to do Thanksgiving with her, just the two of them, and was planning to get him good and sedated on turkey and stuffing before bringing it up.

When they get back to his place after his appointment, he barely looks at her, mumbling that he’s going to lie down for a while. She already knows he’s going to be looking for his bottle of oxycodone, which she had flushed down the toilet that morning. She had talked to one of her supervising professors about the medication, posing questions from a place of clinical curiosity, and had learned just how wickedly potent the stuff was. Steve shouldn’t have been on it for more than a week max, and it was now coming up on a month of doctors filling the prescription for him. She had decided then and there that she was going to get him off it, kicking and screaming if she had to. 

She sits down on the couch, pressing her fingers into her temples and waiting for his inevitable question about where his pills are. She can hear him rummaging in the bathroom, and then in the nightstands in his bedroom. All of the sudden, his movements still, and she can hear his bare feet padding back into the living room. Her heart sinks when she sees that he’s holding the pamphlets she had gathered about veteran’s admission to IU in his hand. She must have left them in the nightstand on her side of his bed. Shit. His expression is cool, steeled, as he waves the pamphlets in front of her.

“Care to tell me what this is?” Her mouth had gone completely dry, and a thickness settled in her throat. 

“Um, I– um–” He cuts her off, shuffling over to stand in front of her, bending at the waist to get in her space. 

“Um, um, um. C’mon, miss college. Thought you were a big girl. Use your words.” He’s practically sneering at her with the way he’s talking and it makes her feel impossibly small under his flashing gaze. She gulps a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“Steve, I’m just trying to help–” He scoffs, standing back upright and starting to pace the floor.

“You think you know what’s best for me? Think you’re so much smarter than me, huh? Gotta help your poor, stupid boyfriend get along, is that it?” She shakes her head vigorously, going to stand but he’s back on her in an instant, resting his hands on the back of the couch to cage her between his arms. She shrinks back into the seat.

“That’s not what I think, Steve. I-I just want you to have options, that’s it! All I did was ask around in the admissions office, it doesn’t mean a-anything, baby. I just thought it’d be helpful for you.” He lets out a humorless laugh, his sharp eyes fixing her in place. 

“Well it’s not. Quit trying to mess with shit you don’t understand.” With that he’s turning heel so fast it makes her choke, storming back into the bedroom. A beat later she starts hearing loud clattering.

“Where are my fucking pills? Goddamnit!” She jumps in her seat at his roaring words, punctuated by the sound of what she assumes is one of his nightstands getting thrown on the floor. She sits there for a moment trying to steady her breathing, the continuous sounds of slamming drawers and muttered curses coming from Steve causing her heart to jump. Finally, all the commotion stills and she thinks to herself that she liked it better when he was at least making sound.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slowly stands, inching towards the bedroom on tenterhooks. She holds onto the doorframe, peering into the room. Both nightstands are tipped onto the floor, their drawers skewed open and the contents strewn on the floor. The wooden bureau that sits across from Steve’s bed has been shoved a few inches out of place, its drawers all open and the clothes usually neatly folded inside in various states of spilling out. Steve’s sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging harshly at the roots of his hair, his chest heaving. She really doesn’t want to do what she’s about to have to. She inches into the room, kneeling down in front of him to try to catch his gaze. She reaches out for him but he swats her hand away.

“Don’t. Fuck, baby. Don’t know where I put my damn pills. I-I need ‘em so bad right now.” His voice is a broken grumble and she feels a sharp twinge in her stomach at his words. It’s time to rip the band-aid off.

“Steve, baby? I know your head’s hurting, but you can’t keep taking those, ok? Why don’t I get you some advil?  I know it’s not the same, but we can do that combined with tylenol and it should start to help.” He finally looks at her, and the anger in his eyes is breathtaking, causing her to sit back on her haunches.

“What did you do with them?” She takes a sharp breath in, watching Steve’s knuckles go white where he’s still tugging at his hair. She’s not going to let him scare her, not on this. She squares her shoulders, slowly standing in front of him. She hates that there’s still a warble in her voice when she finally speaks.

“I-I threw them away, Steve. They’re no good for you, and that has become painfully clear this afternoon.” His jaw goes slack at her words, but he quickly catches himself, swallowing hard and glaring up at her.

“Well, that’s not really your decision to make, sweetie.” He stands, brushing past her out towards the front door, starting to toe on his shoes. She follows dumbly behind him.

“Where are you going?” He doesn’t even glance at her, already shrugging on his coat.

“The pharmacy. Gonna get my new prescription since someone has to make everything so goddamn difficult.” She swallows hard.

“I-I called the pharmacy this morning too. Told them that under no circumstances should they fill any more oxy scripts for you. Steve, please–” He lets out a bark of laugh that startles her where she stands, whistling low as he finally sizes her up.

“You are something else, bunny. Really think you know better than me, don’t ya?” He’s started slinking towards her, causing her to back up until she’s pressing up against the wall. He presses a forearm up by her temple, leaning into her. She’s trying to not dissolve on the spot.

“Steve, that’s not what this is about. I-I talked with one of my professors about those pills. He told me it's some of the nastiest stuff out there. People get addicted to them all the time. Please, I just wanna help you.” His other hand has come down to grip her hip harshly, his fingers flexing into the skin and sure to leave bruises.

“Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong and stop trying to play doctor on me. You wanna help? Here’s how you can help. If you’re so hell-bent on taking away my pills, my relief, I think it’s only fair you make it up to me, don’t you?” She’s trying to steady her breathing, but can’t help the light gasps that rise as Steve nudges the slope of her neck with his nose. He harshly grabs her jaw, forcing her gaze to focus on his steely expression. She hates that there’s already a simmering heat trailing down her spine.

“Words, now.” 

“O-okay, Steve. I’ll m-make it up to you, w-whatever you want, baby. I’m s-s-sorry.” His smile is slick, not reaching his eyes.

“Want you on your knees, pretty. Can you do that? Be good for me and do what you’re told, for once.” 

“Yes, Steve–” He cuts her off with a sharp squeeze to her jaw that makes her whimper.

“Not my name. Not right now.” 

“Yes, daddy. I’ll be good for you.” Part of her wants to leave, just grab her bag and go. But she’s fixed to the spot by the way he’s looking at her. She figures it’ll be quick, a rough blowjob and then Steve will finally calm down, so she complies, kneeling down in front of him while he starts working at his belt buckle.

She goes to reach for his hips when he starts to unzip his jeans but he immediately swats her hands away.

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to touch. You don’t even get to think. That pretty head of yours has done enough thinking for a while. Just gotta sit there, open your mouth, and take it, you understand?” She nods as he comes behind her, drawing both her wrists back. When she feels the soft leather of his belt circling her wrists she shudders. She winces when he tugs the loop tight.

“C’mon, if you’re so smart why don’t you use your fucking words?” She gasps when he pulls on the belt, making her fall back onto her ass, her back crashing into his heaving chest.

“Yes, daddy. I understand.” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own anymore, entering that higher, breathier register that she knows only Steve can draw out. He grunts at that, squeezing her hips to help her back onto her knees before he’s getting up and coming back in front of her. He slips his jeans and boxers down just enough to tug his cock out, already hard as he fists himself. Stepping forward, he cards his fingers through her hair, tugging harshly to tilt her face up towards him.

“Open your mouth, bunny. You better be good for me.” She complies, letting her jaw slacken and Steve’s on her in an instant, forcing his thick cock past her lips as he holds onto her hair for leverage. She can’t help the small, sputtering chokes that come out around his length as he already begins fucking her mouth, getting deeper with each thrust. Normally, he’d give her time to work her way up to taking all of him, it wasn’t exactly an option to just go for it with his length if she didn’t want to gag. But Steve didn’t seem too concerned with that today, already grazing her throat with his tip. 

“Fuck– that’s perfect– just take it, bunny– s’what your pretty little mouth is made for– don’t want you thinking– shit– or talking– just keep your lips around my cock all the time, huh?” She can’t exactly respond to his degrading words with the way he’s dragging her mouth up and down his cock, his fist in her hair guiding her. But she guesses he’s not really looking for a reply.

“What would your little egghead professors think– shit, take it– if they knew their star student spent her time sucking dick like a f-fucking whore, huh?” His words sting, but she hates to admit that they send a clenching ache right through her core too. Unfortunately, Steve seems to notice the way her thighs are clenching at his words and he lets out a jeering laugh.

“Aw, you like that, bunny? You like it when I call you a whore, huh? Guess you’re not as smart as you think you are, just a dumb slut for her daddy’s cock.” His thrusts are unrelenting, now hitting the back of her throat everytime, causing her to gag and sputter around his cock. She can’t help but wriggle her arms against the belt confining them, trying to find some purchase as he uses her mouth but with no success. On the next thrust, Steve’s hips still with his cock down her throat, her nose crushed up against his pelvis. Drool is dripping down her chin as she chokes around him. He just holds her there, and she starts to panic, trying to fight against the hold he has in her hair.

“You don’t need air, do you, pretty? Just need my cock down your throat, right? S’all you need, you stupid slut.” He finally relents, pulling out of her mouth and she’s a wheezing mess, coughing out exhales as she hunches over her shivering body. He’s still hard, but he tucks himself back into his boxers, watching her reel on the floor. Before she can catch her breath, he’s hauling her up by her armpits and pressing her back against the wall, her hands still bound behind her. The way he holds her jaw, fingers skating over her cheeks, is startlingly tender as he drinks in her cockdrunk appearance. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks.

“Look at you, bunny. So pretty for me.” Something in her snaps, her lip starting to wobble as tears pool over her lashes. Steve sighs and she shivers under his delicate touch as he wipes away the first tears to fall.

“What’s got you crying, baby? I don’t like it when you cry, at least not very much.” His grin is sardonic and entirely patronizing as he watches her crumble. She’s trying to stifle the sobs that want to flood her body, her words coming out on heavy shudders.

“You’re s-s-so mean, Steve. I-I j-j-just wanted to h-h-help you.” He tuts, drawing his fingers under her chin to tilt her eyes up to his.

“Aw, you did help, pretty. You and that perfect little mouth of yours. And you know what else? I think you liked it.” With that, he wrenches one of his hands into the front of her jeans, cupping her cunt and stroking harshly through her folds. She lets out a broken gasp at his brutal movement. Steve just chuckles.

“See, bunny? You’re fucking soaked. All because daddy fucked your little throat, huh?” He easily slips two fingers into her, curving them in a way that makes her let out a long, preening cry. She stumbles in his grip, pressing her forehead into his shoulder as he starts fucking her with his fingers.

“P-please, daddy, it’s too much.” He scoffs in her ear, not letting up with his relentless thrusts.

“I know what’s too much for you, bunny. Daddy knows what’s best, right?” When she doesn’t answer, his other hand comes down in a harsh crack on the outside of her thigh and she yelps.

“Y-yes, daddy. You know w-what’s best!” She can feel his smile in her hair as he abruptly removes his fingers, causing her to slump in his hold.

“Atta girl, I think that little brain of yours is finally starting to get it right.” She can’t tell where the pleasure ends and the pain from his words begins, but she knows that the more he says, the more poison that drips off his tongue, the smaller she feels in his grip. Holding her in his arms, he walks them over to the couch, facing her towards the arm rest and bending her over it, her cheek smearing into one of the cushions. Her arms are still bound behind her back and she’s all but given up tugging at them, but Steve seems to notice her squirming.

“If I take the belt off will you be good for me, bunny?” 

“Yes– yes, I will, daddy– please– be so good for you.” He shushes her, laying a kiss in the middle of her spine before finally unwinding the belt from her wrists. She flexes her hands, whimpering at the ache that’s already set into her joints. Steve presses a kiss to both of her wrists and she can’t help the shudder that runs through her at his gentle movements.

“There you go, baby. I know it hurts, I’m sorry. Gonna make you feel so much better.” His hands snake under her waist, undoing her jeans before sliding them down her legs. His rough palms splay over the swell of her ass, squeezing the flesh and making her gasp.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel good, bunny. I promise. But, I just don’t think you’ve quite learned your lesson.” She jolts at that, craning her neck to look at him.

“No– I have! I promise I have, daddy!” He chuckles, catching her off guard when he lands a harsh smack to her ass that sends her lurching forward into the couch.

“You saying you know better than daddy, baby?” She shakes her head, burying her face into her forearms.

“N-no, daddy. Just don’t want it to hurt.”

“Aw, pretty, you won’t learn if it doesn’t hurt, yeah?” He runs his palms up and down her spine, a soothing before the storm.

“Tell you what. Since you’re being so good for me now, we’ll just do five alright? No belt, just my hand.” That’s a small mercy. She hates when he uses the belt, and he knows it. She sighs, nodding her acceptance.

“Does that first one count?” He chuckles, hands squeezing her hips.

“I don’t think so, pretty. That one was a warning, these five are punishment. You think your little brain can handle counting them for me?” She huffs at that, he’s twisting an already deep knife in her gut, but she nods.

The first blow is quick and she yelps out “one!” For a while after, he just rubs his palms on her ass to the point that her legs start trembling in anticipation. He abruptly lands the second and third in the same spot and she shrieks out the count. She already knows that he’s aiming to leave a mark. The fourth and fifth come quick too and she’s been reduced to a mess in the aftermath. Tears are streaming down her face and her whole body shivers under his touch, but she can also feel the wetness smearing across the inside of her thighs. Steve leans over her, draping his warm chest across her back and she reaches a hand back to grab onto his thigh.

“Did so good for me, baby. My good girl, huh?” He presses a kiss into her temple before he hoists her up, keeping her back pressed to his chest as she’s all but slack in his arms. He helps her step out of her jeans and panties, turning her around in his arms and letting her clasp her hands around his neck. She’s mute in his hold, pressing her face into his neck as his hands slide down her thighs to hoist her legs around his hips. 

He pads into the bedroom, laying her down across his bed and slotting himself between her legs. She brings her hands to the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, sitting back and shucking it off over his head. She thinks that she’ll never get used to it, seeing him bare. There’s strange scars along his abdomen, she assumes from previous burns, but he’s still the prettiest thing she’s ever seen, all tan muscle and the sweetest little freckles. He motions for her to sit up, slipping her shirt off when she does before pressing them both back into the mattress in a harsh kiss. His tongue invades her mouth immediately, wrapping her senses in a hazy fog of him. He pulls away with a hot gasp.

“Need to be inside you, baby. Need your pussy so bad.” She just sighs out his name, watching him lean back to tug his cock out of his boxers before dropping the heavy tip against her folds. She whines when he draws the head of his cock through her cunt, her wetness smearing over the length of him.

“Tell me you want it, pretty. Tell me you want me.” He dips into her entrance and she gasps at the feeling.

“I want it, Steve, please– want you now.” He rolls his hips forward in one smooth thrust that sends her reeling, her hands clinging to his back as she cries out at being entirely full with him. He groans into her neck, quickly finding a steady rhythm as he fucks into her.

“Fuck– pussy’s made for me, baby– so perfect– just take it.” He brings one hand down to toy with her clit and it makes her hips buck up into his as she chokes on his name.

“Come for me, pretty– need it so bad– you better fucking come right now.” Her release sneaks up on her and then she’s falling hard, spasming around his dick and digging her nails into his back. He isn’t far behind her, fucking her through her high before he thrusts into her one final time and spills inside her with a shivery groan. They’re both panting, laying entangled in a hazy stillness as they come down. The ache is already coming back into focus, in her wrists and along the swell of her ass. She winces hard when he finally pulls out. 

He had certainly gotten her good and fucked out, but she’s all too quickly coming out of the haze, all the dark things he said resting heavy on her chest until it feels like she can’t breathe. She goes to get up, but he’s quick to stop her, bringing his hands to her shoulders to press her back.

“Woah, easy, baby. Just lemme take care of you.” She shakes off his hands, dipping under his hold to stand and shuffle into the bathroom. 

“‘I’m fine, Steve. Just– give me a minute.” She scrubs her hands down her face before turning in the mirror to take in the sight of her mottled ass. Sure enough, there’s a perfect, blotchy, red handprint across her one cheek, it even looks like he broke skin around the edges. There’s little bruises dotting her hips as well from where he had dug his fingers in, and she hisses as she runs her fingers over them. It’s then that she catches sight of her wrists in the mirror, rubbed red and raw from his belt. Normally, she enjoyed this kind of thing, evidence of a good session with Steve. But right now, the sight of her weary body coupled with his words still swirling in her head just makes her want to cry. 

“Baby?” She’s startled out of her thoughts by Steve’s hoarse voice. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a furrowed look across his face. She sighs, not quite able to meet his gaze as she brushes past him back into the bedroom. He’s following behind her mutely as she grabs her shirt, quickly pulling it back on before walking out into the living room to get her panties and jeans. She’s sliding her pants up her legs when he finally speaks again.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I think I should go, Steve.”

“What? What do you mean? Baby, I– you need someone to take care of you, lemme look at those bruises.” He goes to reach for her but she flinches, stepping back away from him. He stops dead in his tracks.

“All that shit that you said, did you mean it?” He gives her a confused look, but she presses on.

“Steve, your words really hurt me. All that talk about me being your stupid slut. I-It felt different, it felt like you meant it.” He swallows hard.

“I was just angry, baby. I didn’t mean that shit. You just– you caught me off guard with those– those fucking pamphlets– and then the pills. I overreacted, I–”

“I can’t keep doing this, Steve!” His face crumples in an instant at her words, and when he speaks, his voice is so small it makes her breath catch.

“Can’t keep doing what?” She huffs, throwing her arms out in frustration.

“This! All I wanna do is help you and all you wanna do is push me away. It’s-it’s absurd. Why you won’t stop being so fucking stubborn is beyond me. But then, you just get so nasty about it, so mean.” She lets out a bitter laugh, sitting down on the edge of the couch and holding her head in her hands.

“And the worst part is, I let you be that way to me. I keep trying to help you and you keep lashing out at me a-and I can’t take it anymore, Steve. I just can’t.” Her words seem to have left him speechless, he just stands there, his eyes searching her face. She huffs, standing and heading towards the front door. It’s silent as she shrugs on her coat and puts on her shoes, sliding her bag up her arm. When she goes to open the door, however, his large hand comes into view, pressing the door shut. She turns around to tell him off, but chokes on her words when she sees his face. His eyes are swimming in tears, his expression completely crumpled.

“Please don’t go, baby. I’m sorry– I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean any of that stuff I just– I got freaked out, ok?” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from crying anymore.

“You say that every time this happens, Steve. I can’t keep believing what’s obviously a lie.” And then, Steve does something she couldn’t have expected in a million years. He gets down on his knees in front of her.

“I swear it’s not a lie this time, I swear. I-I’ll go to a shrink like you want me to– I won’t take anymore of those pills, just– please don’t fucking leave me, baby. You-you’re so good a-and so smart and– I love you, I really fucking love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it, and she wishes more than anything that it had been under any other circumstance. For a moment, she wonders to herself how she got here, in only three months, completely entangled with this broken man. She’s startled out of her thoughts when he wraps his arms around her hips, burying his face into her stomach. 

“Please, baby. You know I need you.” She tentatively rests her hand in his hair, feeling the way he slackens against her at the contact. She draws her fingers through his hair firmly, tilting his head back to look at her. She lets out a long sigh.

“Listen to me, Steve Harrington. This is it. I swear to god if you’re lying, if anything like today happens again? I’m gonna leave and I’m never gonna come back.” His eyes go wide at her words and he’s quick to get on his feet, cupping her face in both his palms.

“I promise, it’s never gonna happen again. Gonna be better for you. Love you so much, baby.” She lets him press a damp kiss to her lips before pulling back. 

“Will you let me take care of you now, pretty?” She nods, having to admit that her skin is smarting under the rough material of her jeans. He gives her a sweet smile before taking her hand and leading her back into his bedroom.

…

She swears she could get whiplash from how quickly Steve can change, going so sweet on her the second he has her laid back out on his bed. He gently peels her jeans down her legs, having her turn over onto her stomach while he rubs aloe lotion into her welts, murmuring apologies as he works. He thumbs at her wrists before kissing each, letting her turn onto her side while he slides behind her, wrapping her up in his arms. She’s exhausted from everything and falls asleep easily, moored by the steady rise and fall of his solid chest pressed into her back. 

When she wakes up, it’s much later, the sun already setting on the city. Steve stirs behind her, grumbling into her neck.

“Can you stay tonight?” She hums her affirmation. She’s off RA duty until tomorrow and doesn’t have morning classes either, she can stay. Steve sighs. Her voice is hoarse when she speaks.

“How’s your head?” He groans.

“Hurts. I’ll take some advil.” Relief floods through her system that he really has seemed to drop the prescription debate. 

“You can probably take a higher dose than normal, just for a little while before it starts getting better.” He sighs again, a seeming acceptance of her words. She wills herself to believe that it will get better.

“You hungry, baby?” She hums another yes to his question, turning in his arms to look at him.

“Should probably get something in you before you take anything too.” 

They order takeout from her favorite spot, something Steve does every time he’s had to apologize to her. She’s had a lot of takeout in the last three months. She hopes this time really is different.  

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington au

[niragiinborderland]

Partners in Crime - Niragi x Fem!Reader

Another thing plucked from the depths of my brain. 3.4k words of fluff, maybe some angst (Chishiya makes an appearance). Reader is a militant again. Enjoy.

masterlist

Warnings: head injury (reader), mentions of blood, guns, a knife, general aib themes. 

Your eyes stutter open, blinking a few times to adjust to the light that seemed oddly harsh. A figure shaded your eyes as An crouched over you, intently studying your forehead and prodding it, eliciting a hiss of pain from your mouth.

“Ah what the hell?!” you griped, flinching away and realizing you’re lying on the floor of the executives meeting room with blood seeping out of your forehead. 

“She’s alright, although she probably has a concussion.” An stated, ever so eloquently.

You drag your body into a sitting position and the pounding starts in your head, grimacing as you try to gather your thoughts and figure out what the hell happened. It was a routine meeting after the games to take stock of the cards, you’d arrived earlier because you hadn’t participated in a game, you sat down crossed legged in your chair and waited for the others to file in – Kuzuryu was already here, then Mira came in, followed by An, Chishiya sprung up at some point, Aguni stomped his way in followed by Last Boss and… Niragi.

Niragi, who entered every room in the same manner as a tornado.

Niragi, who was too high off adrenaline from the win in his last game for his own good. 

Niragi, who swung his gun around so often you’d think he’d have a good grip on the damn thing and wouldn’t drop it, accidentally shooting out part of the ceiling and knocking you out.

You and Niragi were acquainted enough, often doing guard duty together and being tasked with disposing of traitors, you even drank together often enough. Some would say you were thick as thieves, but you were just similar enough to get along – both of you just as unhinged as the other, enjoying the fear you incited as two of the most ruthless and fearsome militants simply wandered the halls – it had built an unspoken mutual respect. Despite all of that, he never ceased to amaze you sometimes.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you seethed “why couldn’t you just put the damn safety on like everyone else!”

“Quit your whining it was an accident,” he replied, bending down to try and help you up “c’mon let’s get you clean- “

“Don’t fucking touch me” you cut him off, pushing him away.

“Extra feisty today, huh?” he teased, chuckling at your frustration.

You shifted slightly and used the solid wooden table to hoist yourself up – the part of the ceiling that had come down wasn’t even that big, but it hit you in just the right spot to put you to sleep and make the world spin afterwards. Noticing your struggle, Niragi wraps his arm around your waist and places your arm around his neck to keep you on your feet – you didn’t resist this time, suddenly too exhausted to put up a fight.

He guided you back to your room and eased you onto the bed where you sat for a minute, Niragi rummaging around in your bathroom. As the pain spread through your forehead and pulsed in each temple, you counted yourself lucky that you still had some days on your visa – this was definitely going to take a couple of days to recover from. Niragi re-emerged from the bathroom, warm hand towel in one hand and what you hoped was disinfectant in the other, as well as a bandage. 

You shuffled around as he sat and motioned for you to face him, towel at the ready, pressing it against the wound to loosen the congealed blood. An exasperated sigh escapes from you at the sensation – you could feel the threads of the towel dragging through the cut like calloused tentacles. Opening the bottle of disinfectant, he douses the towel and grips your chin between his thumb and index finger to steady your head. A series of curse words and ow’s stream from your mouth, as he clumsily cleans the wound. 

“You could just take me to An, you know?” you stated.

“That’s a really weird way of saying thank you,” came his sarcastic reply, “calm down, I’m almost done. Plus, that basement gives me the creeps – kill people sure, why not? But keep their bodies to dissect? She’s gotta have something wrong with her.”

“Thank you for the concussion, Niragi,” you falsely beamed, “I appreciate it so much!”

He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and applied the bandage with narrowed eyes, intent on not letting it wrinkle or stick together. Although going to An would likely have been more comfortable and a hell of a lot quicker, it was rather endearing to see confident Niragi fumble over such a basic domestic task.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he began, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You looked at him for a second, caught off guard by his abrupt sincerity, before giving him a small eyes-closed smile accompanied by a small chuckle.

“I know you didn’t, it’s okay. Thanks for patching me up.”

“Don’t mention it, princess” he smirked, standing up to put the medical supplies away.

You lie down on the bed, the sharp pains melting into an all-encompassing ache and your eyelids feeling like cinderblocks. You didn’t even notice him come out of the bathroom, or the burning gaze he set upon you as you lay there so peacefully.

“You need anything else?” he asked, as if it would be such an inconvenience to aid you any more than he already had.

Man, he really must have felt bad.

“No, I’m good. Now get out so I can get changed before I fall asleep in my clothes” you retorted, hoping he wouldn’t mistake your playfulness for maliciousness.

He didn’t, of course. He knew you just as well as you knew him.

“Alright then. Goodnight, princess” he waved over his shoulder while making his way out of the room. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Rifle slung over his shoulder, Niragi made his way down the halls, shoulders back and head held high as people cowered and shuffled by him. He loved that feeling – inducing such fear by simply existing, the power to turn that fear into sheer terror should he choose – he relished it. But it felt different today. It felt… hollow. 

Maybe it was because there hadn’t been a lot of traitors to kill off lately – another thing he cherished – with everyone dumb enough to dare betray the Beach already gone. Or maybe it was the absence of a second set of footsteps, perfectly in time with his, making his presence known even sooner with the sound. Or the “what the fuck are you looking at”s that sharply sounded off if someone dared linger their gaze in his direction for half a second too long. Or the absence of the vanilla and coconut smells that so often wafted around him, dancing delicately in his nostrils while he waited in anticipation for his next confrontation. Or the lack of dark giggling ringing in his ears as peopled sheepishly shuffled by. 

Niragi stalled for a moment, hand rubbing over the lower part of his face as if trying to physically expel the daze from his head. 

“Missing your partner in crime?” An apathetic voice questioned.

Niragi looked up, taking in his surroundings for the first time – a familiar door to one side and the inquirer to the other. 

“The fuck are you talking about?” Niragi snapped back.

But he knew. He knew guard duties with you were less bothersome, the time flying by as you terrorized people together in the most deranged manners possible. He knew you’d help clean up the mess you’d both made during the latest cleansing of the Beach’s population. He knew he could speak his mind to you because you’d often voice his thoughts before he did, as if plucking them straight from his brain. He knew you’d join in his drunk escapades because you were as daring and thrill-seeking as he was. He knew that if he found himself in front of Hatter or Aguni, facing serious punishment for taking it too far, that you’d be right there beside him – using your cunning mind to get the both of you off the hook. That’s exactly what you were – partners in crime. 

While he could admit that he wouldn’t dare admit that your absence was the reason for the scowl that adorned his features.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your secret” Chishiya quipped.

“I don’t know what you’re yapping on about, but I know your room is on the other side of the hotel, so what exactly do you think you’re doing over here?” Niragi seethed, the mere sight of Chishiya pushing every button on his silky shirt.

“Well, An was concerned about Y/N’s condition due to the fact that she passed out immediately after the impact and suggested to Aguni that someone monitor her condition overnight to make sure she’s still conscious” the blonde stated matter-of-factly.

“And you expect me to believe that Aguni put you in charge of that?” Niragi scoffed.

“Actually, I overheard the conversation – both An and Aguni are too busy, so I volunteered.”

Niragi’s blood boiled. He hated this man. He hated that he acted like he was so above everything and everyone. He hated the way he spoke like he was the smartest man in the world. He hated that he couldn’t intimidate him like he did with everyone else. More so, he hated that you were so indifferent to Chishiya – that you borderline liked Chishiya. 

“He’s mildly interesting – funny sometimes too” you’d said once, while Niragi ranted and raved about how he despised him so.

Niragi was not about to let Chishiya step even a foot closer to your door. You were his partner in crime, and partners always had each other’s backs.

With a swift stride forward, Niragi was face to face with Chishiya, the barrel of his rifle pushed directly under his chin.

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m letting you go in there, who knows what you’re plotting in that scheming mind of yours” Niragi hissed, steam practically spurting from his ears.

“I’m not scheming, just want to ensure the health of one of our longest serving militants. A thank you for the service” Chishiya replied, not batting an eye.

“Piss off before I paint the ceiling with your brain you little rat” Niragi threatened. 

“Alright then,” Chishiya stepped back, taking his hands out of his pockets for the first time during the whole interaction to raise his arms slightly, “just trying to help.”

He turned on his heel, hands returning to his pockets, and walked away.

Smart ass bastard. He didn’t respect you; he didn’t want to help you; he didn’t know the first thing about you – let alone how to take care of you. Niragi wasn’t sure if he knew how to take care of you either, but he was damn sure he’d do a better job than that runt.

Niragi moved to your door, hand lingering on the doorknob for a moment before turning it and carefully opening the entrance to your room just enough for him to slip through. His hand didn’t move from the turned position, ensuring no unnecessary noise was made, as he closed the door behind him.

He was in. But what was he supposed to do now? 

As he stood in the dark, he realized he hadn’t quite thought that through. 

They wanted to know you were conscious right? How’s he supposed to do that while you’re asleep? Does he have to wake you up? He must have to wake you up, right? Whether you have a pulse or you’re breathing or not, he needs to check that you’re functioning. Okay so he needs to wake you up, fine.

He made his way over to your bed, putting the safety on his rifle and laying it on an armchair, and stood beside it – you were always a bit snappier when you hadn’t slept well, and he wasn’t looking forward to being the cause of you losing those precious minutes.

He watched you as you slept – your back to him, hair freed from its usual tight ponytail scattered across the pillow, moonlight spilling in from the window at just the right angle to dance across your skin and highlight your features, mouth slightly agape and cuddled into a blanket. His breath hitched for a moment as a strange warmth sprouted in his chest, you looked so different. So peaceful. 

His arm reached out to your sleeping frame as if by its own free will, hand heading to your waist to awaken you from your slumber. But before it could get there, a harsh grip on his wrist brought him back to reality – now here he was, almost lying on top of you with his hand pinned down and the knife you keep under your pillow pressed to his throat. Both of your eyes wide, just staring for a moment, not a word being said – you were definitely functioning just fine.

“Jesus Christ Niragi,” you sighed as your grip loosened and the blade was lowered, “what the fuck are you doing in here?” you asked, exhaustion evident in your voice.

“Well,” he stood up, straightening his shirt “An was worried you’d black out again and suggested someone come check on you through the night to make sure you’re not in a coma or something – so here I am” he finished, sitting himself on the edge of the bed.

“Figures they’d send you in” you let out a small chuckle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned, defensiveness in his tone.

“Nothing? We just do everything else together – makes sense they’d make my partner in crime look after me” came your genuine reply, making him un-tense his body and ears perk up at that phrase.

You thought that too?

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately. I guess we are partners in crime, huh?” he smirked at you.

“Yeah, something like that” you said quietly, hiding the slight embarrassment you felt from acknowledging the bond the two of you had.

You sat up in the bed, your tank top clad upper body exposing a few of the scars that littered your arms and shoulders – one from a game, the rest caused by your own personal chaos. Despite the display, you looked a far cry from your usual self as sleepy eyes and an exhausted body softened your demeanor. 

“So, how many times can I expect to be graced with your presence then?” you questioned him.

 Niragi noticed the contrast and couldn’t help but steal a glance at you. You didn’t look weak like many others would if he’d caught them in this state, as you sat there with hair flowing around your shoulders and body basked in moonlight, baring yourself to him without even so much as a sharp “get out” rolling off your tongue. He marveled at the view as you sat across from him. 

“Hey, stop staring at my tits and answer my question” you demanded, bringing Niragi back down to earth from wherever his mind had wandered.

“Have you never seen a girl in bed before or something?” you teased, knowing full well he had, but wanting a rise out of him anyway.

Of course, he had. Girls latched onto him like babies on a bottle wherever you two went, his good looks and bad boy attitude making them drool so much you had to watch your step to avoid slipping over. But he’d never seen you like this. So serene, so beautiful – angelic almost. 

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at you “not exactly much to look at there anyway” he lied, shifting his gaze off you.

You chuckled as your comment reached its desired effect, while he just shook his head at your entertainment.

“So?” you said, raising your eyebrows at him as he looked back at you, raising his own eyebrows back at you in mutual questioning.

Your head cocked slightly to one side as he continued to withhold his answer.

“How many times do you have to check on me?” you finally broke the standoff, surprised you had to spell it out for him.

Niragi realized two things: first, he was too busy looking at your stupid face to hear the question the first time and second, he had no idea. The answer being a detail he didn’t even think to obtain in his fit of rage.

“A few times I guess” he answered without thinking, hoping you wouldn’t catch on to the uncertainty in his voice.

“Okay” you replied simply, not questioning the conditions of his aid.

You shuffled over in the bed, clearing a Niragi sized space and fluffing the fresh pillows underneath you.

“What are you doing?” Niragi asked, his face twisted in confusion.

“If you’re going to check on me that often you may as well stay in here so you can get some rest too – you get extra snappy when you’re tired and I already don’t feel like dealing with it tomorrow” you replied. 

He didn’t move from his position on the bed, still confused but shock creeping its way in as well. You wanted to have a sleepover?

“Are you sure?” another question falling from his lips surprising him, uncomfortable with his own uncertainty.

“Yes, now hurry up and lie down so I can go back to sleep” you huffed, settling yourself into the bed as your heavy eyelids closed themselves.

“Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist” he retorted, pushing himself up from the mattress.

He walked over to the armchair, plucking his rifle from the armchair and dawdling slightly as he made his way back to where you lay, still not quite sure of the arrangement – not that he was complaining. 

Metal clanked against wood as he propped his rifle against the bedside table and bent down to take his shoes off.

“You better have the- “ 

“Yes, the damn safety’s on, chill out” he finished your sentence.

You smiled as he took the words out of your mouth. 

The bed dipped under his weight, his body fully clothed and on top of the blanket. He lay on his back with his hands interlocked over his chest, staring at the ceiling, not quite sure what to do – this was the first time he was unsure if you shared the thoughts running through his head.

“What are you? A vampire? Who sleeps like that?” your eyes were open now, entertained by the sight in front of you.

“I thought you were going to sleep?” he replied, clearly not as entertained as you.

“You can get in the bed, you know? You’ll probably sleep better that way instead of this Dracula impression you’ve got going on” you answered, giving him an ‘it’s okay’ look.

Niragi complied, peeling back the blanket and shuffling in, lying on his side this time. You were facing each other now, still a distance away but the closest you’d ever been. Not even close to touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth spreading through your body. Comfortable in each other’s presence, yet the tension could have been cut with a knife.

“I’m glad they sent you to do this” you broke the silence.

 Niragi’s heart damn near stopped. 

“Oh yeah? You miss me that much?” he smirked at you.

“More like we’d be cleaning up a dead body tomorrow morning if they’d chosen anyone else” you replied, your gaze meeting his. 

“Good” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

Your comment wasn’t out of character, but it was confirmation – you were his partner in crime, and he was yours. And that was enough.

“Goodnight, princess” he ended the conversation, nothing more to be said.

“Goodnight, Niragi” your eyes closing, contently falling asleep.

 ______________________________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times to adjust to the gentle sunlight that painted the room. A black and white curtain surrounded your vision, an arm resting gently around your waist and warm air tickling your forehead. Your eyes drifted upwards to look at the head of the dark mass that engulfed you – Niragi, eyes still blissfully closed. 

“Good morning” he greeted, not moving an inch.

“Good morning” you returned, lying still. 

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit better, I guess.”

“That’s good.”

Neither one of you broke the embrace, you just lay there – you and your partner in crime finding something new to relish in together.

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland fanfic #aib #aib x reader #aib niragi #niragi #niragi x reader #niragi suguru #aib fluff

[noahjustcried]

Sagacious (Service Top!Reader x Sub!Emily Prentiss)

part two of the slightly cohesive Shrewd series.

Warnings: NSFW MDNI 18+, Not gonna lie this one is raunchy, angst, period sex (I didn't spare any details so... if it makes you uncomfy DO NOT READ) , emily snaps at reader, gets kinda fluffy, emily sheds tears, reader being an adorably understanding bean

You were basically brain dead at the moment. The only sound that could be heard was the rushing of your blood in your ears. The only thing you could see was Emily with a blank look on her face but piercing eyes that told you exactly how she felt.

Emily had been short today. Aggravated even. And you couldn’t put your finger on why. Her steps were heavier as her heels clicked around the precinct while she gave orders and built a profile. She’d even dressed differently. Usually she’d throw in some sort of bold color to her outfits: a red shirt, a blue blouse, a cream sweater. But not today. Today she had on that black turtleneck, and black slacks. She looked ominous.

You weren’t allowed much time to analyze before she was barking orders at you and rushing you to the M.E.’s. You confirmed her stiff attitude with Penelope on the way to the examiner’s. 

She’d agreed Emily was acting pissy.

“You seem focused.” JJ muttered sarcastically when you got back to the precinct and immediately collided shoulders with some beat cop in the hallway.

“Like a laser.” You replied not even sparing her a glance as you passed by her.

The woman was harder to read than the Necronomicon when she wanted to be. And she hadn’t had an actual conversation with you in three days. You couldn’t reach her. Until you reached the hotel.

The brunette handed out everyone's key cards in the hotel lobby before making an excuse to take the next elevator claiming she’d forgotten her bag, though it was in your hand. You were standing away from the rest of the group glaring at a vending machine in the corner of the lobby and missed the interaction. Well you hadn’t missed it, you avoided it. And you weren’t glaring at the vending machine you were glaring through it at the reflection, Emily’s reflection.

“Y/L/N, are you gonna buy something or what?” Her voice had an edge to it, one you hadn’t earned.

You took a deep breath before replying. “I’m good," You turned on your heels and glared at her more directly. Your eyes scanned her figure then her face, “Are you?”

The older woman huffed dramatically, her shoulders falling and her hand came to rest against her forehead in what you could only assume was ever-building frustration. “I’m fine, here.” She stalked towards you, her footsteps still heavier than usual. She held out the card with the hotel’s logo printed on the front. You took the card between your index and middle finger.

“Emily...”

“Don’t start.” She interrupted before striding toward the elevator with you trailing after her.

“Em—“you tried again when the elevator started moving.

“For fucks sake, can you not!” She snaps. Her voice was pitched upwards and she was avoiding your gaze.

You cleared your throat before sucking your cheek between your teeth, chewing in thought.

“You’re frustrated.”

The woman trilled her lips, her palms came up to her face and she buried her face inside her hands. “I’m not frustrated, you just don’t seem to know how, or when to shut up.”

You raised your eyebrows, your lips were curling upwards. You could take her words personally but that wouldn’t benefit anyone right now. the doors slid open with a ding. You followed close behind her a few steps removed.

Your room was across from hers, perhaps just another way for her to keep an eye on you. she liked having you under her nose even if she didn’t claim you outwardly.

You watched her click her door open and without a second thought you handed her her bag before shoving her forward gently and basically forcing yourself into her hotel room. The door clicked shut behind you.

She had already opened her mouth to curse, yell, scream? You weren’t sure because the words never made it out of her mouth because you slapped your hand over it. When she brought her hands up to slap you away you nabbed her wrist continuing to back her up until she was in the center of the room, the bed a foot or two behind her.

You gestured for her to be quiet then dropped your hand from her pink lips. Your voice was soft yet assertive as you spoke. you stripped your jacket off your shoulders. “You are frustrated..or stressed. I don’t know you suck at communicating but the point is you are not fine. You have been bitchy, and combative all day if it isn’t one thing it’s another.”

“Bitchy?” Emily challenged. You could tell her repetition of the word was not due to a lack of clarity, it was a challenge, or mercy. A chance to take it back. You wouldn’t.

You bent down and ripped your loafers off your feet before shedding your overshirt, leaving you in a pair of patterned slacks, black socks and a black tank top. “Bitchy.” You reiterated. “And it got me thinking..."

"...Three days of silent treatment; I was left with nothing but time to ponder.” You grumbled, gathering the top layer of your hair and tying it behind your head.

“It didn’t click until I saw you getting all watery eyed on the elevator.” Emily was lost for words as she watched you fall to your knees in front of her. She knew what you were planning to do, and she couldn’t let you proceed. So, when your long fingers met her belt buckle she stopped you.

“I can’t.” She cracked. “I’m uh—” you waved her off.

“On your cycle? I know.” You nodded firmly your eyes meeting hers with nothing but lust, determination, and something much softer. “Let me take care of you.” You purred, pulling her belt free from the buckle and working on the button and zipper.

“Y/N,” she whimpered. Literally whimpered. “I’m bleeding, that’s unsanitary at the very least.”

“Emily.” you reassured. “I don’t care.” You tugged her pants down to her thighs then past her knees. “But if you say no we can stop right now and just go to sleep, or if you actually want to be alone I’ll leave right now just tell me what you need so I can help. Her eyes had begun to water again her lips pursed together as her hand came up to your cheek.

“You don’t have to do this, baby.” She whispered, sniffling immediately after.

“I want to. More than anything in the world. I want you, all of you everyday of the month, blood isn’t gonna get in the way of that, not for me.”

You watched her carefully scanning her tear stained face for the first time in days you saw that light in her eyes again. She nodded at you and you grinned a Cheshire grin.

You started with her shoes this time tugging them from her feet then doing the same to her pants and turtleneck she was near bare. Left in a navy blue bra and cotton panties to match.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” You muttered guiding her the last foot until her knees met the comforter and she took a seat.

You placed a kiss on each thigh. Before you reached for the waistband of her panties. She stopped you.

“I want them on.”

“Okay.” You smiled softly and instead of going with your original plan you placed a hand over her diaphragm and applied pressure ushering her into lying down.

“Just try to relax, darling.” You drawled letting your hand caress over her tummy. Rubbing against it as your other hand teased between her thighs which she had clamped shut. You sighed some frustration of your own trying to boil its way to the surface.

You brought your hand to her right bosom and gave a soft squeeze that left her knees trembling.

“Sensitive?” You inquired, slipping your fingers below the material and groping at the flesh again

This time you could feel her pebbled nipple scraping your palm. You ran a thumb over it, which sent a shiver down the older woman’s spine and made her clamped thighs fall apart slightly.

When you looked up at her face she was already looking down at you with her lip tucked between her teeth as she nodded in response.

You purred, dragging your hand further up her thigh with an open palm. Your left hand came to rest over her cotton covered mound, a curious thumb softly ghosting over her puffy labia. Your right thumb did something similar to her nipple.

A high hum vibrated from the older woman’s throat, a moan muffled by her bitten lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Emily.” You purred as you pinched her nipple gently. Sensitivity was fun, until it wasn’t and you didn’t want to hurt her, not in any way she wouldn’t enjoy, though it was entirely too soon.

You felt her cunt throb against your teasing thumb and smirked pushing her panties aside and parting her lips with two fingers. You smiled at the little string hanging from her entrance and leaned in experimentally. You inhaled, her sweet scent enveloped your nose. You placed a small kiss on her pink button and felt her thighs twitch.

“Emily?” You called. Voice barely above a whisper. Her head popped up from where she had relaxed it on the mattress. “Why don’t you go in the restroom and take this out for me, darling.”

You suggested softly while giving the string a minute tug. She looked as if she wanted to argue or maybe she didn’t believe you when you said you didn’t care.

She cleared her throat and sat up despite her reservations, which had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact she was overthinking. “I don’t know if—”

Your eyes darted to the wall behind her head. You felt it was time to reiterate your point. “Go in the restroom and take the tampon out so I can devour you the way you deserve, please.”

Emily’s eyebrows raised while you quirked your head daring her to challenge you. You sighed after another thirty seconds of staring. “Okay, you know what.” 

With that you rose on your knees to kiss her lips, your thumb making circles against her clit, causing her to moan into the kiss as you worked her up. Your lips slid from hers to her cheek then her jaw, you nipped at her ear lobe and felt her clit pulse, so you did it again and again until she wouldn’t stop pulsing against you. Her hands placed on the mattress propping her up as you worked her over with just your thumb and her swollen bundle of nerves until she was trembling at the touch.

“Three,” you whispered, brushing her clit faster. “Two,” she moaned out into the open air as you added more pressure, her eyes squeezed shut and her arms trembling under her weight. All while your pointer finger was wrapping itself in the string dangling from her entrance.

She was close. You could tell because her arms were faltering, about to give out any second and her legs kept trying to clamp shut around your torso, though you wouldn’t let her.

You watched her arms give out and her back arch, soon after her heels were digging into your back to pull you closer.

“Please.” She whimpered out.

“One.” You breathed and tugged the string until the bloody cloth was free and her legs clamped around you as your ministrations on her clit pushed her over the edge.

“Oh! Fuck!” She cried. You tossed the tampon in the nearest bin from where you were sitting and you grinned leaning forward to finally indulge.

Your tongue dipped into her entrance hungrily. The metallic taste not deterring you in the slightest. In fact, with the way you were slurping and sucking at her labia and entrance Emily was fairly convinced the taste was spurring you on, though she was more focused on the pleasure your tongue was bringing to her, and here she thought your fingers were amazing. Which , they are but this, this was something else and it was driving her crazy.

She hadn’t stopped cumming and her juices as well as your saliva were smeared across your face and beginning to drip past your jaw.

“You taste so good, baby.” You pulled away but only to use your fingers to spread her puffy pink folds apart.

“Holy Fuck!” She expelled before tumbling into another fit of moans as you sucked at her clit and flicked it with your skilled tongue rapidly. Her own hands came up to squeeze at her heaving breasts. You had to close your eyes or you’d have another accident like last time.

One of her hands tugged at your hair and ripped you away from her folds much to soon and Emily almost came again at the sight of you, your perfect hair messy and flowing between her fingers, your flexed jaw, and hungry tongue lapping up her blood and arousal that was smeared on your lips, your hands flexing on her thighs, and your dark eyes glassy and hazy mind only on one thing: her pussy.

The way you were eating her made her think you forgot that the organ was attached to an actual person.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” She whispered dragging you atop herself and leaning up to kiss your swollen, blood stained lips.

“Thanks, mami.” You breathed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand ungraciously.

“Better now?”

A smirk slid across her cheeks as she chuckled. “Much.”

“Good.” Your hoarse voice breathed out resting your head on her milky thighs like the perfect forbidden pillow.

"You have to learn to let me take care of you. You can push me away as long and as far as you want, I will always be here to take care of you."

"Always?" came her broken whisper her eyes watering again as she brings her slender fingers to stroke through your hair and massage your scalp delightfully.

"As long as you'll have me. Until the day you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you want nothing to do with me. I'll be yours." You mumble confidently, planting an affectionate kiss on her thigh reveling in the feeling of her fingers stroking your scalp.

Her other hand comes up to her own face and swipes away the stray tears sliding down her cheeks as her heart flutters. "Okay." She replies softly pulling the covers up to cover the both of you your head under the blanket as you drift off to sleep with her fingers still stroking your hair as you rest on her thigh.

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