#Ageless allure

[candylandphotos]

Young beauty model natural organic makeup skincare

"Nurturing Youthful Beauty: Elevating with Natural Organic Makeup and Skincare ✨🌿"

[lorelune]

(minors & ageless blogs dni. a piece for @ainescribe for helping me with my theme 💓 cw: predator/prey, hints of dubcon)

"i'll give you a head start."

jing yuan tells you this with a pleasant, easy smile and his hands behind his back. and no context. you cock your head at him from across the little table you share, and take a sip of your cold tea.

"come again, dear?" you knock your ankle against his under the table.

"i'm giving you a five minute head start." jing yuan leans closer and rests his chin his palm. his eyes take on a cat-like glint. "i've already started counting. i'd get going if i were you, sweetling."

you only want more of it.

your chest feels tight all of a sudden.

"jing yuan—"

"i won't be going easy on you." his smile verges on smug as he leans forward. "and i would advise to take full advantage of this time. i think you'll need it."

he leans away from you and tilts his head. it would be cute if you couldn't see the rapidly darkening mischief in his gaze. you jolt up from your little table, clattering your chair on the cobbled walkway. he eyes you up and down like a big cat sizing up its next meal as you step backwards, nearly stumbling.

something in your gut twists, like a hot iron.

you turn on a heel and walk as fast as you can without drawing too much attention to yourself. weaving around the late-night crowds and ducking around street vendors and their burning latterns, your heart pounds. faster and faster.

this had been your idea originally. you just hadn't expected jing yuan to entertain it (though on some level, he entertains all of your ideas.) this desire of yours seemed too risky, too innately... unlike him. at least to you.

this game had been a fantasy. one you'd confessed your interest in a few weeks prior, while luxuriating in a pleasantly steaming bath together. you shared a glass of wine, passed between sips after a slow, tender evening. you'd playfully started a conversation about things to try in the bedroom, and somehow, the Divine Foresight and honey wine managed to wring a few previously unspoken desires out of you.

this is the result, you suppose, as you stumble around a corner, toward jing yuan's estate.

you should've known that jing yuan would spring this fantasy on your unexpectedly. that was part of the allure. the hunt, the chase— you're just prey now, with no time to prepare or plan. the innate helplessness has already stirred something in you, even though jing yuan hasn't done anymore than send you hungry looks and promises.

you're sure five minutes have passed. you're positive that the man is trailing you, even if you can't hear or see him. you don't have the military prowess that he does, you're just a civilian. your footfalls are loud as you break into a run near his estate and its towering walls.

your hands shake as you hold your jade abacus to its lock. the slow 'clunk' of gears opening the gates feels like it goes on forever. your heart is pounding in your ears, like a drum that won't stop. you're out of breath, but force yourself to sprint the moment the door swings open.

you hide in one of his gardens.

jing yuan has many green spaces on his estate. it's situated on a large enough space to allow for a small stream running through the largest garden into the front yard. ponds gurgle nearby, filled with fat, sleepy fish. you wake them as you dash around the greenery and shrubs, uncaring of the dirt that is staining your shoes. the bottom of your outer most garment must be getting torn as it snags on the brush below.

the gate of the estate opens and closes once more, somewhere not far behind you. your heart lurches, your stomach feels cold and hollow and you run.

jing yuan knows his estate better than you, clearly. you don't know where is safe, but in his largest garden, there are large gingko trees and stones that seem okay to hide behind. maybe. you are too anxious, too out of your fucking mind, to use sound logic at this point. you scramble behind a smooth quartz boulder and lay a hand on your chest. panting. tears sting your the corners eyes as you desperately try to catch your breath.

you listen the best you can to see if you can hear him follow you. it's hard to pick up every little sound, breeze shakes the tree branchers into a late-evening song. cicadas chirp to disguise any potential footfalls. it would probably be best to hide somewhere on the edge of the garden. you're in the center of it, not far from the stream. you don't dare peak out from your hiding spot, but you should move— you feel so exposed—

a floorboard creaks nearby. you freeze.

the wind almost stills with the sound. you can't breathe as you strain to hear more. it came from the west, where you know there's an entrance to this garden. you think. probably. your heart pounds so loudly, you can barely hear anything over the roar.

you do another sound, though. the sound of a boot fall, onto stone. there's a path laid with them not far from where you are.

something white-hot, old and feral burst in your chest.

you need to fucking run.

with a burst of energy that makes you feel light-headed, you push off the ground and throw yourself over the rock you were hiding behind, away from the sounds that are surely jing yuan stalking you.

your feet hit the ground and you run. run, run, run—

you swear you can feel more footfalls than just your own, but you can't look behind you. all of your focus is on weaving through the gardens trees and shrubbery, to gain and sort of ground.

you stumble, eventually. it's inevitable that you lose. the game is set up that way.

you trip over your own feet as you near the little stream that cuts the garden and gurgles. your momentum ruins you; you can't right yourself fast enough.

a hand catches the back of your collar and pulls. your breath catches, caught in your throat by the pressure. an arm, his arm, bundle you up at the waist and slams your body into his. your back to his front. the force of it knocks the air out of you.

you still scramble, you can't help it. squirming and kicking, you fight against the unyielding grip he has on you. he's hot against your back, scalding even. the metal bits of his armor and belts dig into your as your struggle fruitlessly.

"what's this?" jing yuan says into your ear, soft and curling. "i thought you would do a little better than this."

you whine. your stomach feels cold.

jing yuan laughs then, rich and low like he always does. but there's a darker edge to it now. you can feel it spread down the back of your neck, your spine, drenching you down to your toes. he squeezes you, and you feel yourself get wet.

(you're fucked.)

"you'll have to try harder next time." jing yuan says. "maybe i did go a little easy on you."

"s-sure you did—"

jing yuan nips your ear. "what was that? i didn't realize prey animals were capable of speech."

you crane your neck, ready to snap at him, but you don't get the chance too.

in a single motion, jing yuan has you thrown over his shoulder. blood rushes too quickly to all of the places it shouldn't be. you feel dizzy with it and whine and sputter with it.

jing yuan doesn't yield, only laughs again, and gives your bottom a few firm (very firm) pats. you gulp.

(lucidly remembering the other details you revealed to jing yuan in the bath that night. all of the filthiest bits of your fantasies. jing yuan hardly had to ply you for them.)

and jing yuan is a strategist. you should have known he would use this new information advantageously against you in such a way.

as you enter his manor, heart still pounding, palms clammy, and feeling like a rabbit in the jaws of a lion, you feel foolish and turned on all once. jing yuan so easily catches you off guard when he chooses. he so easily undoes you, puts you in a place of his choosing and let's you fester there just enough that he can remedy it— either with sweetness or, as he now so adeptly showing you, with something an edge darker.

you gulp, light-headed.

[silkscream]

blessing

ੈ✩ yuuta okkotsu x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, soft dom!yuuta, dacryphilia, oral sex, overstimulation, delayed orgasms, he's a little mean, slight yandere vibes because. it's yuuta.

ੈ✩ wc: 1.1k

ੈ✩ a/n: i'm on my soft dom!yuuta agenda. i also can't write him without feeling fucking insane

yuuta okkotsu is a gentleman. he holds the door open for you, gives you his jacket when you’re cold, has your ramen order memorized. everything about him is gossamer-soft, too. the cadence of his speech, the lithe way he moves, even though his lankiness has been replaced with lean muscle since you first met him.

yuuta okkotsu is gentle. just not when he fucks you.

it’s ironic, though, because his tone is still gentle. the rasp of his voice is low, quietly masculine, haunting, but still full of adoration. it’s alluring more than anything. he reminds you of the vampires you used to lust over from your childhood fantasy books. dark hair, dark eyes.

the essence of him is unfathomable to you — you can’t find the word for it, but it’s something akin to eve’s apple. how tempting he is, how much you’d let him ruin you, bruise the fruit of your flesh with his teeth.

he tells you to open your mouth. at the moment, he’s in between your legs, mouth slick with your cum, and he reaches to set his fingers onto your tongue. a small push and you choke on the taste of yourself.

it’s dirty. but when it’s yuuta, it purifies you. makes you his angel. you believe him like a god when he tells you as such.

“so sweet, don’t you think?” he murmurs. “my sweet girl. the best girl, yeah?”

“yes,” you cry.

he’s coaxed at least three orgasms from you in the past hour with his mouth and fingers alone. with bliss also comes pain, and the way he coos your name and calls you his good fucking girl feels like a divine reward in itself. he licks your tears, pride swelling in his chest.

“how about another for me, huh, baby?” he bites into the meat of your thigh as he circles your clit with his fingertip again, chuckling at the way you shake.

“i—i can’t."

“can’t?” yuuta raises a brow. he looks beautiful in between your legs. there’s something oddly terrifying about it despite how beautiful. “i know you can. i know you will.”

“yuuta, please—”

“you’ve done it before, haven’t you? usually take whatever i give you, every fucking time, right?”

“s’too much,” you sob.

he tuts. rounds his full lips into a taunting pout.

“want my cock, then, don’t you? poor girl, you should’ve just asked.”

(you couldn’t have. you know better.)

“please, please—”

you don’t even get to finish begging before he’s buried inside you. pushed to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix with bruising force. he wipes away your tears as if he isn’t the cause of them.

“too rough?”

“n-no.”

but it hurts. it hurts in the way it feels too good, too sensitive after the amount he’s made you cum. he hasn’t even been inside you for a full minute and you already feel the ache in your abdomen ready to burst into flames.

the sweet nothings he whispers into your temple are loving and affectionate, but the way he rolls his hips into you is mean. he has his hand snake up to squeeze your breast, nicking your nipple with the grit of his teeth just so he can hear you mewl like a wounded kitten. it’s one of his favorite sounds.

his palm settles on your neck after, gentle still despite his other hand nearly bruising the fat above your hip.

he knows you’re close from the way your eyes blank out, glazed over in bliss as he tightens his hand around your throat.

“close, baby, i’m—”

and then the bastard stops. chuckles against your jaw at the way you cry as he thrusts into you so agonizingly slow. unsteady. taunting.

“yuuta!”

“’m sorry baby, did you wanna cum? i just thought you wanted me to hold out for longer. it’s nice like this, see?”

“fuck, yuu—”

“that’s not very nice,” he grins. he ruts into you extra hard, just once.

“that’s not what i meant,” you whine.

“wanna cum? just ask.”

you know you can’t just ask. you know he means he wants you to beg.

“pleasemakemecum, please, please!”

“yeah, why should i?”

“’cause ‘m your girl,” you slur. he loves you like this. wet mouth all slack, cheeks flushed like a nymph in a baroque painting.

he pulls out, then, drawing out another moan from you, just to flip you over onto your stomach. your hair is bunched up into his fist while his teeth are on your shoulder. when you feel him again, your walls full of him, you feel even dizzier than before.

“yeah, my good fucking girl,” he groans against your skin. “so good. so sweet to me.”

yuuta has never been an apostle of hedonism. he’s always reserved himself, the parts of him that wanted, thinking that his love and devotion would only curse other people.

when you came along and loved him so irrevocably, he felt reborn. drunk on pleasure. being with you makes him realize that it’s okay to take. he deserves it, doesn’t he, after everything?

you have him on a leash and you don’t even know. it’s why he likes to play with you so cruelly like this — to have his cake and eat it, too. because the way he controls you in the oasis of your bedroom, the way he marks you up and swallows you down like honey — it’s what you want as much as him. and he’d rather die than not give you everything you want. even if he’s a little mean.

if he was a curse of a boy, you were his blessing.

“yuuta, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp. as you clutch the bedsheets, he covers your hand with his, engulfing it, entangling your fingers together. “cum with me, please—”

he wants to open his mouth to speak, anything to push you over the edge, but he’s as breathless as you are. consumed in your skin, in your cunt. he pulls your face toward his, instead, swallowing down your moans as he spills inside of you. you convulse, your orgasm like a lightning strike.

yuuta laughs softly against your mouth and soothes the bruised parts of you with his palms gently.

“you were so mean today,” you sigh.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he says, nuzzling your neck. “had a bad day, but i feel much better now. let me run you a bath, okay?”

you hum dreamily as your lover leaves you. the fuzz in your head satiates you. empty-minded except for him. and when he has you in warm water, hands washing your wet hair, yuuta feels blessed. baptized in tenderness.

[dfortrafalgar]

God, Finally

You're both tired of playing chicken each time you try to have sex.

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: MATURE 18+, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS INTERACTING WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED, fluff, fluff and smut, first time, soft law, mutual performance anxiety

Author's note This was born because I wanted to write a more realistic smut about the awkwardness that can sometimes come with sex for the first time, especially with someone as intricate and complex as Law.

Also posted on AO3

You wanted it.

Law wanted it.

Both of you made it very obvious that you wanted it.  Your flirtatious glances toward your stone-cold boyfriend tossed innocuously over the galley dining table, or the way Law formed the addicting habit of running his lanky, inked fingers across your waist when passing you through the tight corridors of the Polar Tang, unnoticed by anyone else on the crew, but scorching through your jumpsuit like a hot ember.  The intense love you had for each other was clearly reciprocated.  You often dreamt of moments spent with the raven-haired man under the thin sheets of his bed in his quarters, running your own hands along his defined shoulders or ghosting along his heavenly abdomen.  Likewise, Law would often use his time alone in the shower to release his feelings for you, utterly infatuated with every aspect of your body and soul.  The kindness of your heart was just as alluring as the way your favorite dress hugged your body like it was sculpted just for you, and Law couldn’t get enough.

And yet, despite all of the deep, intense feelings shared between the two of you, everything would dissipate the second things got moved to the bedroom.

The first time you and Law tried anything, you were straddled across his lap on his bed, his thin sheets and one lonely pillow tossed to the side as your lips ghosted over his collarbones in tandem with his hands working to remove the tanktop you wore under your boiler suit.  You had gotten as far as both of you being shirtless when things suddenly got awkward, as if a circuit breaker popped.  No spark between either of you.

You sat atop Law’s hips, no indication of arousal anywhere to be found below his waist.  You, similarly, felt nothing.  As your eyes locked with his confused, almost frightened, golden ones, all the sexual tension that had built up within the small metal confines of his private room was gone as if it was never there in the first place.

“You… uhm…” Law tripped over his words, and flushed a deep crimson after damaging his own ego with his obvious nervousness.  “You look nice.”

You blinked.  “Thanks…?”

Neither of you really knew what happened, but after you pulled your shirt back over your head and carefully hopped off of his mattress, the two of you didn’t speak for the rest of the day after that.  Things were pretty much back to normal after a few days of taking some time for each of you, and the next time you tried was about 10 days after your first failed encounter.

You were once again back in Law’s quarters, this time kneeling on the cold metallic floor as you gazed up at him with hungry, ravenous eyes.  Some dirty talk was successfully bounced between the two of you, and quite frankly, you were pretty desperate to suck his dick despite not yet having seen it for yourself.  Law was already enjoying the feeling of grabbing your hair in his fingers, loving the way your eyes fluttered shut with the sensation of his firm yet tender grip on your head to guide his lips to yours as he hunched over you.  You kissed your way through undoing the belt of his speckled jeans, pulling the faux leather through his belt loops and discarding the accessory to the side on the floor.  You made quick work of his button, then his fly, his hips lifting to allow you to shimmy his pants to his knees.  He was hard, painfully so, and his dick truly looked as pretty as you imagined it would.  

But when your lips finally separated from the steamy kiss and your focus was directed solely on his erection, all the confidence you had built up packed up its bags and said it was going out for cigarettes.  Your hands rested limp on Law’s thighs, his hands resting on the edge of the mattress.  He stared blankly at you staring at his dick.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.  He could already feel his own arousal leaving, blood once again flowing back to his brain.  With the extra oxygen, he started to worry if he was the problem.

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…” you faltered, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh.”

Just like your first encounter, your second attempt ended in utter failure.  You awkwardly stood up, brushing invisible dust off of your knees before uttering a quick apology with your head dipped.  You quickly made your way out of his quarters, leaving Law sat befuddled, dick having gone completely flaccid in record time.

Two more additional, and equally as mentally painful, encounters happened since, and in the weeks that passed, the two of you started to develop your own individual anxieties.

Law was petrified that he was the problem.  He was worried that he was moving too quickly for you, being too forceful and making you afraid to speak up.  The last thing he wanted was to lose you over something so trivial, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t desperately want to finally lay with you.  He had kept it to himself that he has never had sex, though to most in his life that was obvious as he often drowned himself in his work and duties as a pirate captain without leaving much room for random hook-ups.  Until now, where he desperately wanted it.

You on the other hand, were anxiety ridden over the thought that Law would, in fact, leave you over something so trivial.  You kicked yourself each time you chickened out of an act, leaving your flustered boyfriend alone and frustrated.  The only thing holding you back was your lack of real experience beyond removing the clothes, and the uncertainty and unknown territory that came with made you jitter with nerves.  You would try to hype yourself up in the mirror in the crew washroom, lightly slapping your cheeks and pouting your lips and mouthing encouraging nonsense to yourself, only to see Law and end up only sleeping with him, and not actually sleeping with him.

You were getting tired of your own impatience, and Law was getting tired of being anxious.

---

You woke up in the late morning to a beam of sunlight from the porthole in the crew bunkhouse tinting the inside of your eyelids dark red.  With a grumble, still fairly tired from your night watch shift, you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.  On a typical day, the cloudless blue sky and warm weather of a spring island supply docking would be the perfect thing to lift your mood, but in the midst of your sexual frustrations, there was nothing to be content about.  You proceeded through your day as usual, assisting with upkeep of the submarine and helping the engineers with a few maintenance jobs that had been discovered after your latest underwater excursion.  It was this time spent alone with Ikkaku, both of you dirtied with sour oil as you dismantled one of the primary engines, that you couldn’t hold it in anymore.  You needed advice, desperately.

“Ikkaku, mind if I ask you something?” you began, casually, biting down your nerves.

“Of course, what’s goin’ on?” she replied.  

The two of you had formed a very close sisterly bond since you joined the crew, Ikkaku delighting in no longer being the only woman aboard a submarine crawling with men.  You were able to talk about anything with each other without shame or embarrassment.  And yet, the flustered feeling that tingled in your cheeks as you processed how to ask your question alerted your curly-haired crew mate to your desperation almost immediately.

Ikkaku leaned over in her dirty boiler suit, bumping her shoulder with yours.  “Relationship trouble?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, hand gripping a torque wrench and slowly tightening a lug nut on the engine in front of you.  “It’s really embarrassing to ask, but…” your voice trailed off, tongue tying as you fought tooth and nail with your own vocabulary for how to voice your concern.  “How do you know when you want to have sex?”

The look Ikkaku gave you didn’t help your feelings of inadequacy, but she was clearly trying to maintain a neutral expression.  “Can I ask what you mean by that?  Did something happen?”

“Any time Law and I try to… you know…” your wrench slipped out of its hold on the nut, and you grumbled.  What an ironically fitting allegory.  “We just end up chickening out at the last minute.  I feel like there’s something wrong with me and I’m scared that he’s going to get fed up.”

Ikkaku nodded, focused on your words as well as her own work.  “So you’re a virgin?”

You huffed.  “Yes.  Unfortunately.”

Ikkaku chuckled, but tossed you a sympathetic glance.  “Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed about, seriously.  We’re all busy pirates, we’ve all come from crazy lives, no one is expected to have sex at a certain time.  There’s no sense in rushing something like that.”

You smiled at her words of reassurance, but that nagging anxiety still clawed to the forefront of your brain.  “But even when we do have time, why do I always end up chickening out?  And why does he?  I feel like he’s disgusted with me.”

“That can’t be it.  He looks at you like you’re the most perfect thing to walk on this planet, and everyone can see it.”

Blood rushed to your face at the revelation of Law’s longing glances apparently being public knowledge amongst the Heart Pirates.

“Clearly you really want to take that next step with him, but I think the anticipation of it being some grand life-changing event might be scaring you off from the moment.”  Ikkaku spoke freely, and her words did make sense.  She continued.  “I know there’s a big expectation of having sex as soon as possible, but that’s just not the reality most of the time.  If sex is something that you feel that you need, and that feeling is mutual, then the moment will come naturally with time.  And if it turns out that you realize it’s an attraction that you don’t feel, then that’s fine too!”  The brunette adjusted her seat on the floor, crossing her legs and grabbing a dirty rag off to the side to wipe her muddied hands on.  “The anxiety of the expectation is scaring you, basically.”

Your eyes were clearly widened at the revelation, as a hearty laugh left Ikkaku’s lungs at, what you assumed was, the dumbfounded expression on your face.  Your shoulders hunched and you stared forward, all of your emotions suddenly making a lot more sense.  All you could successfully mutter in response was a quiet, “Huh.”

“Did I get it right?” she inquired, leaning over to you and laying her head on your shoulder, a bright smile on her lips.  

You laughed at her gesture, leaning back into her.  “I think you did, actually… Do you think it’s the same thing for him?”

Ikkaku nodded affirmatively without hesitation.  “Oh, absolutely.  This crew is full of horny dudes stuck on a submarine together, you hear the way some of them talk.  Between you and me, I know Law’s never had sex either, and the things he hears from his own crew about ‘men needing to have sex as soon as possible’ and the like,” she gestured her statement with air quotes, “It messes with his head and makes him all anxious.  He clearly wants to do anything to make you happy, and I bet his own anxiety is inhibiting him from taking the next step.”

Something clicked in your mind once more at that moment.  You knew Law had performance anxiety in battle, you had not only seen it once or twice, but had heard plenty of stories from his crew about his inability to maintain self control when around certain people.  The thought of him having performance anxiety in the bedroom, with you, made your heart ache.  You zoned back in, locking your eyes with Ikkaku who was gazing at your face to examine your expression.

She tapped her oily finger on the forehead, leaving a slight smudge.  “I’m probably right!”

You laughed, taking the clean heel of your palm and pressing it to her forehead to wipe the smudge off of her skin.  She yelped in response, laughing along with you.  “Thank you Ikkaku, really.”

“Of course, that’s what I’m here for!”

The two of you continued your work with light conversation bouncing back and forth, and as you packed up your tools to head to the galley for dinner, Ikkaku tapped your thigh when you stood.

She gazed up at you, brown eyes twinkling mischievously.  “Get that dick, sister.”

“Shut up!” you bantered back, hiding your flustered face from view as your friend boldly laughed.

You began the fairly long trek from the engine room to the galley, which was two floors above you and on the complete other end of the submarine.  You stashed your tool box in a nearby maintenance closet before continuing your walk, rubbing your oil-stained hands on your jumpsuit.  It was almost laundry day, anyway.  As you rounded the corner into the confined space where one of the many ladders was kept, you bumped into the very man who set your heart racing.

Law was clearly caught off guard by your sudden appearance as well, having just climbed down the ladder and was turning around as you appeared.  Red instantly tinted his cheeks, but he paired it with a very faint smile at your presence.  “I was just about to get you for dinner, I didn’t want you to get too lost in your work.”

“Get me?” you asked, smiling.  “How thoughtful!  I just finished up, actually.”

“That’s good,” he responded, voice quiet.  You stepped further into the ladder well, making an attempt to reach your hand out toward a metal rung before Law’s wrist stopped you.  You gazed at him.

“Can we talk after dinner?  In my quarters?”  Before you had a chance to grow anxious over the ambiguousness of his words, the raven-haired man leaned down to press a warm kiss to your jaw.  “I’m not breaking up with you, I promise.”

You laughed, worry immediately seeping out of you.  “Thank goodness,” you sighed in relief.  “Of course.”

It was only then that Law gestured for you to climb the ladder, following close behind you.  You yelped when he poked a lanky finger into the plush of your ass cheek through your boiler suit, and you playfully batted his hand away.  Despite the (assumed) shared anxiety of your escapades behind closed doors, you were relieved and thankful that your relationship hadn’t soured in any way.  Law was truly too good for you.

The walk to the galley and dinner with a few of the crew members was filled with idle chit chat about your days, but you couldn’t miss the way Law’s knee was constantly bouncing with urgency.  He finished his meal first, making his way toward his quarters.  You waited a few moments to follow him, not wanting to draw suspicion from your crewmates.  Everyone knew you were in a dedicated relationship with their captain, but you liked to avoid any awkward comments when you could.  You made your way to Law’s room quicker than you thought you would, floating on your feet with nervous anticipation.

Law, meanwhile, was so anxious his hands were shaking in his bespeckled pockets.  He was unsure whether or not to tell you that he had a very emasculating conversation with Shachi and Penguin earlier in the day about what they referred to as his, “Intense performance anxiety.”  He didn’t appreciate that his feelings had a dedicated term, but he also couldn’t deny that their entire conversation made a whole lot of sense.  Despite his two best friends’ track record of being fairly immature about contact with women, they were surprisingly helpful in getting him to unpack why he would shut down any time he gazed at you without your clothes on.  While it made him feel like a pervert, Penguin was quick to shut down this feeling and chalked it up to, once again, Law’s built-in self-deprecation.

“It’s not your fault that you have performance anxiety, you just gotta talk it out!” Penguin had said, surprisingly emotionally intelligent.

Law made a mental note to sincerely thank the two of them at some later date.

You were quick to catch up to the taller man, rounding the corner just as he opened the door to his quarters.  He grinned nervously as he held the door open for you, watching as you scampered inside.  He closed the door behind him, subtly locking it.  You kicked off your work boots and shrugged off your dirty boiler suit, tucking it safely away in the corner of his room so none of his belongings would get soiled by the oil that still remained on your clothes, before approaching his bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress.  Law sat next to you, gazing at his hands, tattooed thumbs anxiously fidgeting.

“Take your time,” you said quietly, leaning over to nudge him.

“Thanks,” he replied in a hushed tone, the ghost of a smile fleeting over his face.

You patiently sat next to him, gazing at your own hands before he finally spoke up.

“So, I learned something today,” he began.

You picked your head up.  “Go on…”

“Penguin said I have ‘performance anxiety.’”  He used two fingers to gesture air quotes.

You tried to calm your nerves.  Ikkaku’s voice in the back of your head was right on the money.  He was just as nervous about the potential of disappointment as you were.

“I learned something today, too,” you added.

Law turned his head to face you.

“Ikkaku told me that I’m ‘scared of disappointing you.’”  You gestured your own air quotes, a melancholic smile on your face.

Your eye contact with Law lasted for a few brief moments before you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.  Law couldn’t help but follow suit, his own silent chuckle making his shoulders bounce as he hid his small grin behind his fist.

“Guess we’re both all messed up,” he sighed, studying your expression.

You hummed.  “I really did realize that today, though.  I never wanted to keep chickening out of being closer to you…” you took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’ve just never had sex before, and I think I really was inherently scared that I would disappoint you, or not be good enough.”

Law nodded, bowing his head and lowering his hand to dance his fingers over your own.  “Yeah… me too.”

A silence that was slightly less awkward now permeated the space, and you shuffled closer to your boyfriend.  He embraced the warmth that radiated from your body, finding solace in the way you sent electric chills up his spine.

“I’m glad it’s mutual.  I know that sounds bad, but it makes me feel less… inadequate?” you added.

“You’ve never been inadequate,” Law replied.  He was about to add that he was the inadequate one, but Shachi’s stern voice bounced around Law’s skull that said ‘BE CONFIDENT IN YOURSELF.’  Law knew you loved him for everything he was, so who was he to tear himself down like that when you only saw his flaws as the things that made him so beautiful?  He wanted to finally make you understand that as well.

“Thank you, Law.”  You dipped your head into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.  “You’ve been so patient with me.”

“Likewise,” he whispered, hand above yours moving to lace your fingers together.  His heart was beating madly in his ribcage.  If one were to tell him earlier that day that he’d be metaphorically pouring his heart out for you later that evening, he would’ve scoffed in response, and yet here he was.  As foreign as the feeling of being vulnerable still was for him, he was finding it easier and easier to open himself for you, expose everything inside him for you to consume.  A year ago, or even some months ago, he would shut down that notion with a firm scowl and reinforce the concrete walls around his soul, but you would only break through them with something stronger.  And he loved that about you.  He loved you so deeply, more intimately than any other love he had ever felt.

He stiffened slightly when you moved your head out of the crook of his shoulder, your hairs dancing along the sensitive skin of his neck.  You picked your head up, and planted a deep kiss on his lips.  He watched through half-lidded eyes as your own fluttered closed, releasing your hand from his grasp in order to lace your arms around his neck.  You were pushing into him so deeply that he felt as though you were trying to fuse yourself to him.  Who was he to say no to such a request?

His hands found purchase on your waist, squeezing the flesh of your belly through your shirt.  A sound, something between a giggle and a moan, left your mouth, and you pulled away from the kiss with an embarrassed smile.

“That tickled,” was all you said.

With your arms still draped around his shoulders and neck, you let gravity pull you down onto his bed, Law following you willingly, supporting himself above you with his forearms next to your head as he captured your lips in a kiss that took your breath away.  The feeling of his lips, slightly chapped yet scorching like a flame, and the faint taste of coffee that always lingered on his tongue was already addicting, but even more so when he parted his teeth and captured your bottom lip in a gentle, teasing graze before diving in for more.

Law’s heartbeat tripled when he felt you smile against his mouth, a grin so delightfully beautiful that he wished he could kiss you for the rest of his life.

(Who was stopping him from fulfilling that wish?)

Running out of oxygen, which he knew he desperately needed in his current state of pre-arousal, Law pulled away from your lips and chuckled warmly at the whine you released from your lungs.  His golden eyes analyzed every detail of your face, your eyes half open, gazing up at him as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered to you.  The way your cheeks were warm with your flush, radiating to his own skin, and the way your lips were kiss-swollen and pouting for more.

“God…” Law groaned.  “I need you so bad.”  In any normal circumstance, he would be humiliated at himself over his brazen statement and attitude.  This was not a normal circumstance, and he was finally ready to relinquish that notion.

“Then take me, Law,” you responded, voice so light and airy that it was almost a whisper.  “Finally take me, please.”

Once again, however, Law felt himself falter.  “Really?”

Instead of growing frustrated, which his pent up anxiety told him you would, you huffed out a bright laugh.  “Yes, Law, yes!  You just kissed my brains out, we can’t play chicken again.”  You finished your statement by lifting one of your legs, slotting it in between Law’s thighs and brushing over the swollen spot at the front of his jeans.  The man above you sucked in a breath.

“Okay… okay we’re doing this.”

“We are.”

“And you’re really okay with it.”

With a light-hearted groan, you pulled the man back down into another fiery kiss, using the distraction to trail your hands from his waist to his chest, pulling his shirt up with you.  He adjusted himself so he could support his weight on his knees as he caressed your own skin through your shirt, his calloused hands forgoing their inked marks as they ran soothing touches across your abdomen, following your lead by pulling your shirt up and over your head.  You took advantage of sitting up yourself to loop your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra, lazily throwing it off the bed to join your two discarded shirts on the floor.  Your bold hands resumed their touches, leaving goosebumps over Law’s sun-kissed skin in their wake.  He kissed you with the rhythm of your fingers tracing the tattoo on his chest, gentle, tender caresses that had his heart, and the fluttering in his stomach, on overdrive.  If he was more coherent, he would be worried about his heart giving out.  In that same instant he shoved the feeling out of his head.  There was no need to be rational anymore, not when you lay before him with your upper half completely exposed to the cold air of his bedroom.

Law didn’t even realize that he was in the process of removing your shorts until you lifted your hips and allowed him to pull them down to your knees, and then fully off of your legs.  You gently pushed on his pecs to make him lean back and allow you to sit up, hands undoing the metal clasp of his belt and pulling it through the loops of his jeans.  It clattered to the floor, but you paid no mind as you were eagerly undoing his button and zipper.

Suddenly, your hands stopped yet again.  You nervously gazed up at him.

He gazed back down at you.

You shook your head, as if trying to rid yourself of anxious thoughts that floated around you like angry insects.  “Sorry, I’m still kind of nervous,” you muttered.

“It’s okay, I am too.”  Law’s hands ran down your arms before floating to your waist, squeezing your now-bare flesh once again.  “You’re perfect.  I love you.”

“Even if I haven’t shaved my legs in a week?” you asked.  Your tone was light, but Law could still pick up on the notes of insecurity that echoed through the air around you.

“You think I care about that?” he asked, voice tender.  He planted a chaste kiss to your lips once more, before pulling his body downward, leaving sugar-sweet kisses across your neck, breasts, stomach, and the waistband of your panties.  His hands caressed your thighs as he sat up once more, trying to ignore the red-hot pressure in his groin, not helped by his open button and fly.  “You’re so fucking beautiful.  Look me in the eye and tell me that you think I care about your body hair.  No one could’ve guessed that we’d be doing this right now, it’s not like you could’ve anticipated it.”  He squeezed the plump flesh on your thighs playfully to punctuate his words.

You laughed once again, your voice sweeter than the freshest honey, carrying colors Law had never seen before.  “You’re right, I know…”  You averted your eyes, smiling so brightly that your lower lids were creasing.  “Thank you, Law…”

A short-lived silence floated between your two bodies, before you pushed yourself up by your elbows yet again and continued with your initial quest of undoing his tight jeans and getting them off his body as quickly as humanly possible.  He eagerly helped you, shimmying back and forth while you pulled his pants down before they were finally off and thrown to the side on the floor.  Your angle, leaning back on your elbows and gazing at Law’s form above you, was more heavenly than the finest artwork.  You could tell the man started to grow anxious as your eyes unpacked his body from head to toe, but how couldn’t you?  

“You’re beautiful too, Law, so fucking gorgeous.”  You used one hand to pull his shoulder down, planting light kisses on the corners of his mouth.  “The most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”

“Oh please,” he huffed, kissing you back where he could.  One of his hands supported him on the mattress, while the other supported him by your waist.

“I mean it, you’re ethereal,” you moaned.  As much as you wanted to make him sit and listen to you ramble about how much you adored his defined muscles and lean physique, you didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than you knew he was already dealing with.  You had come this far, you didn’t want to ruin it.

More intense, sloppy kisses ensued, hands trailing up and down bodies, before Law accidentally lowered himself on you.  He jolted at the feeling of his erection brushing against your pelvic area, suddenly reminding him of what exactly the goal here was.  He pulled away from you, holding eye contact.

“Are you really sure you want this?” he asked, voice low and cautious, as if he was trying not to startle an animal.

“More than anything, Law.  Do you?”

He paused for longer than he cared to admit, his mind running wild.  He loved you so intensely, so deeply, that he wished he could become one with you on an atomic level.  He wanted to spend every moment with you for the rest of his life, regardless of how long it was.  He wanted to accompany you through all of your achievements and dreams, just like he hoped you would do for him.  He wanted a permanent home in your brain, in your heart, in your soul, where you wouldn’t let him leave, where you would hold him so tightly in your warm embrace for the rest of time.

He snapped out of his zone when your hand caressed his scruffy cheek.  “Law?”

“Yes,” he responded quickly.  “Yes, god, yes, I want this.  I want you.”

Another kiss followed, before breaking apart once more.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you started.  “How exactly do we begin?”

Despite your wishes, Law couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled from his lungs.  “Shit, we’re hopeless.”  You laughed along with him, making more anxiety dissipate from his chest like a steam rising from a lagoon on a warm summer morning..

It wasn’t like either of you were strangers to how human sex worked, just like how neither of you were strangers to the orgasm, it was more so the act of actually beginning it, and doing it together.  It wasn’t as simple as slipping it in, thrusting a few times, and cumming.  There was much, much more to it.  You two just needed to figure out how to get there.

You shivered under the sensation of Law’s fingertips teasing the waistband of your panties before pulling them down slightly, waiting for your indication that you were ready to be completely and totally bare in front of him.  He bit down his elation as you lifted your hips, allowing the thin fabric to lower from your ass and down your thighs as Law removed them from your body, so gentle with the fabric, treating it as if it was sacred.  The notion left you feeling scorched, heart beating with untapped urgency.  The feeling of the cold air of the bedroom hitting your wet folds left you rubbing your thighs together, lip quivering.  You reached a hand forward yourself, tugging at Law’s own waistband and gazing at him through your eyelids, a silent plea to reveal himself to you as well.

After a deep, shuddering breath, the man slipped his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the pile of your discarded clothing.  When he looked back at you, he was taken aback by the sight of your wide eyes, pupils dilated as you examined his cock.  He couldn’t help but smirk.  He didn’t think he was anything to write home about, seeing himself as average all around, but he just barely caught the way you sucked your lower lip in with your teeth, and it filled him with a sense of excitement, pride, and longing that he thought he’d never experience, let alone enjoy.

“Hey, eyes up here, darling,” he urged with a lighthearted chuckle.  

Flustered, your eyes darted up to his face, and you grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

He pressed a small kiss to the apex of your nose.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Unlike your previous pauses, each kiss and caress from Law and the way his sultry words kept you anticipating made the mood stay relatively consistent throughout.  You felt confident, cherished, and adored by the man above you, and you just hoped he knew how much you wanted to worship him for the rest of your days.

Running a tattooed hand along your outer thigh before gracing over the junction of your hip and dipping his fingers in between your plush limbs easing them open for him, he eyed your expression and stated, “Tell me where you like to be touched.”

You held yourself up on one elbow, splitting your legs more for Law to get comfortable in between them as you allowed your free hand to roam to your pussy, using two fingers to part your lips.  Law watched analytically as your pointer and middle fingers rubbed the hood of your clit at the very top, and he listened intently to the way your breath hitched ever so slightly at the cotton-soft pleasure that emanated from your own fingertips.

“Right here,” you breathed.

Law’s own fingers were quick to replace your own.  He caressed the tiny spot, analyzing every twitch of your muscles or change in your breathing pattern.  His fingers dipped lower, watching your expression for any sign of discomfort as he ran his fingers along your opening, stifling a grin at how wet you had gotten from long minutes of intense making out and awkward repeated confirmations of consent.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The way your natural lubrication coated his fingers was alluring, and he used the fluid to rub and press against your clit once more, reveling in the way you bit down moans each time he changed up his pattern of movement.  He watched, intoxicated on the moment, as your hands grabbed at your own breasts, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut.  While continuing his motions on your clit, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss right above your left breast.  When your hand moved, he gently bit down on your soft skin, basking in the whine that left your tense throat.  He licked the faint red mark his teeth left behind, knowing it wouldn’t even bruise.  Maybe some other day he could really sink his teeth into you, but for now he wanted to hold back and enjoy your first time.

Your breathing was growing more labored as his fingers danced expertly over your soaked clit, when you shot your hand forward and gripped his wrist in a silent plea to stop.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyebrows immediately wrinkling in concern.

“I’m fine, I just…” your trembling hand rubbed his forearm.  “I want you inside me.  Like… right now.  Please.”

Law hummed.  He pulled his hand away from your cunt, leaving your now saturated folds exposed to a new level of chill.  You watched through half-lidded eyes as your boyfriend grabbed his one pillow from beside the metal bed frame.  He gently tapped your hip, wordlessly encouraging you to lift yourself enough for him to slide the pillow under you.

“This will support your back, hopefully,” he mentioned quietly.  “And hopefully reduce some initial discomfort.”

You smirked.  “Did you do some research?”

Law scoffed, flustered, averting his intense golden eyes.  “No, I just… assumed.”

You laughed, shimmying against the pillow and getting yourself comfortable.  “Trafalgar Law, if you don’t stop acting so cute we’re not going to get anywhere.”

The man’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his lips at your statement.  “You really okay with this?”

You nodded affirmatively.  “Yes.”

Law inhaled a deep breath, reaching down to take a gentle hold of his own cock that, remarkably, stayed completely hard and eager this entire time.  (He was relieved there was nothing wrong with him.)  He gave himself a few strokes with his fist, forcing down a groan at the sensation as you watched him with ravenous eyes that devoured his every movement.  You shivered as his fingers ran up and down your cunt yet again, before rubbing your slick on his cock with a tiny, breathy moan.  Lord, you needed him badly.

The raven-haired man adjusted his position between your legs and tested the waters by running the head of his dick through your wet folds.  The feeling was already something you were addicted to.

“I’m going to ask one last time,” he said, voice low and apprehensive.  “Are you okay with this?”

For the final time, your eyes fluttered open, caressing a hand over his cheek.  “Yes.”  Finally.

Law used two fingers to pull apart your folds, exposing the entrance to your vagina that seemed to wait so patiently just for him.  He pressed the head of his cock into you, inhaling a shaky breath at the way your anatomy seemed to suck him in.  He stopped when he heard you groan slightly under him.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, it just hurts a little bit.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth.  “That’s normal, you’ve never done this before.”

You nodded, finding endless comfort in his words and touches.

Little by little, Law eased himself into you, having you adjust your hips every now and then to get used to not only the feeling of having something inside of you so tightly, but also to find the most comfortable position for you.  You did find great relief in the way the pillow below your hips allowed subtle leverage, making his entrance much easier on the both of you.  Law twirled his fingers with your own, capturing your lips in an addictive, sultry kiss as he pushed the rest of his way into you.  He groaned into your mouth, the feeling of his cock leaving your walls molding around him a sensation so foreign yet so delicious.  Similarly, your legs quivered at the red hot feeling of Law’s cock fully enveloped within your warmth, each way you moved reminding you that he was in you, connected to you in the deepest, most intimate way possible.  The feeling of being stretched and intruded upon slowly went away, helped in part by Law’s constant kisses and caresses across your body, keeping you both plenty aroused and waiting.

You wiggled your hips against his delighting in the groan that left his clenched jaw.  

“That feels too good,” he sighed into your neck.

“You can move,” you urged, finally getting used to the fulfilling sensation.

Law’s hand squeezed your’s, and you squeezed back.  Supporting himself with his other hand on your hip, he rocked his hips slightly, testing the waters of your body’s reactions to each movement.  His entire body felt on fire.  He was sure that water would evaporate off of his skin at the slightest contact.  He clenched his jaw, uttering a wavering groan at the warm wetness that surrounded his cock with each movement, the sounds emanating from your joined bodies equal parts alluring and humbling.

He quickly found a rhythm that seemed to work for the two of you, angling his hips upward as best he could to attempt to focus his thrusts on the spot at the roof of your vagina right below your pelvic bone.  (Okay, maybe he had done more than a little research.)  Your eyes were clenched shut, mouth slightly open as you exhaled shallowly.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Good… great,” you uttered back, breathless.  “You feel really good… you feel amazing, Law.”

Law’s heart once again skipped a few beats at the praise.  To know he was bringing you pleasure, making sure you were getting as much out of this as he was, was exactly what he needed to hear.

He disconnected your hands, leaving both of your palms face up and empty next to your head.  His free hand now traveled back down in between your legs, rubbing three fingers against your neglected clit.  The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, back arching off the bed.  It was a pressure deep within your abdomen that flared like a hot coal, partnered with zaps and zings of electric shocks as sweet as sugar, the two sensitive areas of your anatomy fusing together with Law’s touch and movements to form a combination that had you moaning without restraint.  You couldn’t help yourself.

“Oh fuck, Law, shit,” you groaned, neck craning back.  

Law took advantage of your exposed skin by peppering sweet kisses along your jugular and Adam’s apple, before sitting his lips in the soft flesh right above your collarbone and biting down with more force than before.  You whined at the feeling, shivering as his tongue once again licked the deeper marks, leaving your skin wet and cold, and at the same time blazing hot.  The groans he was releasing so close to your ear only spurred your passion more, your own hands traveling to his shoulders and holding him close, fingers gripping his skin as best you could as his thrusts deepened in tandem with the pace of his fingers on your clit.

Law’s entire lower body felt on fire, electric, a magenta pressure building deep within his abdomen and radiating outward.  He felt his dick twitch inside you and he bit down a moan, instead relishing in the way you let go one of your own at the feeling of his dick rubbing against your G-spot with every other snap of his hips.  You lifted your knees up, feeling him even deeper than before, and you gasped his name.

“Shit, Law,” your legs quivered next to his body.  “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your body involuntarily met him thrust for thrust, the pressure from your movements added to Law’s ministrations over your clit leaving you panting and writhing beneath him.  You were a sight to behold for Law’s sore eyes.  He could drink you for the rest of eternity and never grow tired of your taste.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the pace of his hips increasing as he felt the familiar, yet foreign, sensation of his impending orgasm.  This was nothing like using his hand, it was so much better, worlds better.  He didn’t think he’d ever be able to masterbate on his own again, knowing nothing could surpass the way your pussy clenched around his dick like you were sculpted for each other and only each other.

“Ah… ah, fuck, Law,” you moaned, voice cracking as your back arched. The white hot pleasure from your pussy reverberated throughout your entire body, leaving your skin both icy and on fire as colors flashed behind your eyelids.  Your fingers gripped Law’s shoulders harder, surely leaving marks in his skin.

Your orgasm caught you completely off guard, body snapping as waves of pink and purple flashed behind your closed eyelids as your pelvis shook and trembled against Law’s wavering thrusts.  Your moans were unrestrained now, freely calling into the stifling air around your bodies, embracing each millisecond of the addictive, powerful sensation that danced across your waist, your womb, your legs.  Your orgasm was the final push Law needed before he frantically pulled out of your sopping pussy and released onto your lower stomach, his hips gyrating as he fisted his cock with shuddering breaths and deep groans.  His abs flexed continuously as his muscles contracted from the sheer force of his own release.

The two of you remained in the same positions you finished in for what felt like hours, desperately catching your breath.  Your legs continued to shake as you relaxed your muscles and let your weary limbs finally fall back onto the mattress.  You opened your eyes, taking in the ethereal view of Law’s trembling body over your own, his head tilted back, black hair tousled out of place.  His fist remained around his cock, unmoving, still too shocked to move.  Your own shaky hand reached for him, ghosting your fingers along his abdominal muscles and breaking him out of his orgasmic trance to look at you with glazed, golden eyes.

His expression, fucked out and boundlessly flustered, made you laugh.  You started laughing uncontrollably, shoulders shaking as you tried to restrain yourself, choosing instead to pull him down with you, burying your gleeful smile and airy laughs into his neck instead.  Law cringed slightly at the feeling of his own release rubbing between your two stomachs, but the way you embraced him in your exposed glory, completely vulnerable to him, made him instantly forget about the temporary discomfort.  He used his less dirty hand to cup your cheek, tilting your head to press a smattering of kisses along your face before resting on your smiling lips, loving the feeling of joyful laughs still leaving your spent body.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing again,” you said quietly.  “That was incredible.”

Law couldn’t blame you for your reaction in the slightest.  After weeks of pent up anxiety, miscommunication and worry, the two of you had finally experienced what you had been longing for so deeply, so carnally.  Law wanted to make sure you could feel the same joy, the same euphoria, each time you were with him in every moment you spent together.  Your laugh was freeing.  Your unrestrained giggles the reminder that he so desperately needed.

There was nothing wrong with him.  There was nothing wrong with you.

The moment comes naturally.  And Law promised himself right then and there, as you clutched onto his body above you like you would disappear without him, that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face, the anxiety out of your mind, and his heart in your hands.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

BONUS

You would describe Law like a scallop.  A hard outer shell that refuses to open up, bumbling blindly through the water away from anything he deems as a threat.  His grace and elegance as a pirate captain came with countless years of adjusting to normal human interaction, which left him in an odd stance between an awkward, struggling kid, and a maladaptive, anxious adult.  But when the ridged shell was finally cracked open, exposing the soft, fragile insides, was when the facets of his personality would radiate forth.  He was dynamic, emotional, impulsive, selfish, fearful, confident, boundlessly strong and yet weaker than a detached leaf all at the same time.

And you loved that about him.  Your love for the stone-cold pirate captain ran deeper than the trenches of the ocean you sailed above, was warmer than the sun that beat down on the outer deck when you surfaced, and was more tender than the finest cuisine.

Your new favorite thing about Law, to add to the ever growing list that you kept within the recesses of your mind, was the fact that he was still just as apprehensive around you as he had been when you first started dating.  A few nights ago, he came all over your stomach as you lay beneath him a shivering, trembling mess, but when you gently knocked on his office door to wish him a good morning, he looked at you with eyes as wide as saucers, mouth curled in a nervous, boyish grin, kissing you like it was his first ever.  Like a scallop, he would open and close sporadically, spoiling you with his delectable emotions behind the safety of closed doors, and impressing you with his harsh command of his crew on the outside.

He laughed at you when you told him your analogy.

“A scallop?  I’m a scallop to you?” he asked, chuckling as he scribbled down notes in a wrinkled, coffee-stained notebook.  His entire back and neck were hunched over the metal counter in his medical ward, taking inventory of the medicines he kept stocked behind the locked cabinets.

You were bustling around the room behind him, diligently cleaning dust, sand, and salt residue out of sterile corners and shelves.  “Yes!  You’re hard on the outside and soft on the inside, what’s not to get?”

“Scallops move like bumbling idiots.  I would appreciate something more like a crab.  Or maybe even a lobster.”  When you turned your head to face him, he was already gazing at you, his left hand making a pincer motion similar to a crab’s claw.  

You snorted.  “Just for that, you’re going to be a slug now.  No more shells for you.”

“You’re just gonna leave me out in the open like that?  Not even a skeleton?”

“Fine, you can be a squid.”  You wrung your damp washcloth into the metal bucket situated on the floor by your feet, draping it over the side to free your hands and wipe them dry on your boiler suit.

The laugh that bubbled out of Law made your heart flutter in your chest.  You never would have guessed that your casual, stupid banter while doing mindless chores would be something you’d enjoy so much, but you had come to realize that you enjoyed every aspect of life a whole lot more when it was spent with Law.  In the days that followed your successful first shared sexual encounter, especially.  Since then, you have started to feel so much more confident in yourself, in your looks, your abilities, and your feelings.  You felt like you understood your boyfriend on an even deeper level now, cherishing the way he seemed to unfold himself in front of you, knowing that there was almost nothing left to hide from you anymore.  You had seen each other at your most vulnerable, and the outcome was more beautiful than the most glorious sunset.

Law’s voice snapped you back to reality.  “I think you’d be a Mola Mola.”

You threw your wrung-out towel across the room, giggling as it smacked his hunched back in between his shoulder blades.  It made a squelching sound as it plopped to the floor behind him.  He whipped around to face you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Is the sunfish mad at me?”

“To think you view me so low!  I’m heartbroken!”  You feigned great offense, placing the back of your hand over your forehead and swaying back and forth.  “My life is ruined now, my beloved thinks I’m a sunfish!”

Law bent down to grab the towel you had thrown at him before balling it in his fist and lobbing it back at you, smirking as it landed on your chest and stayed there.  Before you had the chance to chuck it back at him, the door to the medical bay creaked as it was pulled open.  You felt your heart pang as Law’s expression immediately switched from bright and gleeful to his usual stoic, grouchy demeanor.  He still hid from even his crew, only showing his true colors very, very sparingly.  You both looked towards the door as Uni popped his head in.  

“Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you know dinner’s ready.  Jean Bart cooked tonight.”  The masked man quickly stepped back out into the hallway, letting the heavy steel door close on its own.

Your eyes glanced back toward Law as his expression softened only slightly.  You bent down to place the washcloth over the rim of your cleaning bucket before finally walking over to your boyfriend and nudging his arm.

“Sorry,” you simply murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Your face changed so quickly, like you didn’t want him to see you smiling.”

Law hummed, a sound that stayed low in his throat.  He turned back toward the counter, picking up his pen once more and writing a few extra bullets in his notebook.  You stood patiently, lips sealed as you waited for his next movement or word.

“Don’t ever apologize for making me smile,” he said, tone deep and volume minimal.

Your stomach did backflips in your abdomen.

Law’s pen made a clicking sound as he placed it on the counter, lifting his notebook to shut the cover and store it in a specific labeled drawer.  He finally turned back to gaze at you, face slowly softening more and more.  He approached you, running an inked hand across your cheek and down to your neck before placing a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I still don’t know how to share with my crew what I share with you.”

You knew what he meant.  His emotions, his insecurities, all the vulnerabilities that he revealed to you behind closed doors in the form of nervous kisses and wavering whispers were sides of himself that he would never be caught showing his crew.  He needed to keep the facade of the strong captain they needed him to be, unmoving when the waves violently rocked his ship and unwavering when his skin would be sliced by an enemy’s sword.  Law’s biggest issue remained that he couldn’t even say the word ‘emotion’ without feeling like less of a man.  You just hoped that, one day, he’d be able to say it.

You smiled.  “I know, it’s hard for you.  But that’s alright.”

Law would wonder until his final breath how he was lucky enough to find himself with a person as understanding and sympathetic as you were.  It wasn’t fair to you that he kept himself closed off until he was forced to open, how you poured your heart out to him at every waking moment while he struggled to share his feelings with you.  You told him ‘I love you’ many times even before your first time sleeping together, and he was yet to say it back.  The words felt like molten iron on his tongue.

But you stayed by his side regardless.  Your love never wavered.  You didn’t care how long it would take him to say those three words to you as long as you were able to keep him with you, as long as you were able to kiss him and thread his fingers through yours and feel his body pressed against yours under the warm sheets in his bed.  You didn’t care as long as he was there.

Law sucked in a deep inhale through his nostrils as his golden eyes examined your expression.  You simply gazed back at him, waiting for any response.

“You’re wonderful,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”  You grabbed his hand in yours pulling him towards the door.  “Let’s go get food before your crew devours it all!”

He followed you with no protest, gripping your hand in his.  When he squeezed, you squeezed back.  Before you rounded the final corner to enter the galley, Law pressed a kiss to your cheek.

[transform4u]

The Society: Chad

The heavy, oak door creaked open as Eric stepped into the dimly lit room, his heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The invitation had been mysterious, arriving in an unmarked envelope with a gold-embossed seal. It spoke of a society that could help him achieve his greatest ambitions. Despite his reservations, Eric's drive to effect meaningful change compelled him to investigate further.

The room was lavishly decorated, a stark contrast to the dim lighting. Rich, mahogany walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and portraits of men from various eras, their eyes seeming to follow him as he moved. At the far end of the room, a long table stretched out, laden with an array of decadent food and drink. At the head of the table sat Jason, his youthful visage betraying an ageless wisdom. His eyes, sharp and knowing, locked onto Eric with a calculating intensity.

"Welcome, Eric," Jason said, his voice smooth and commanding. "We've been expecting you."

Eric hesitated, his instincts screaming caution, but he was determined to see this through. He had faced tougher crowds and more hostile environments in his political career. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room and took a seat opposite Jason.

"You've come a long way, my friend," Jason continued, leaning forward. "Your work in New York has not gone unnoticed. Your passion, your dedication to equality and justice—these are qualities we value deeply in The Society."

Eric frowned slightly, unsure where this was leading. "Thank you, but I'm not sure what this has to do with your... organization."

Jason's smile widened, a glint of something almost predatory in his eyes. "The Society exists to elevate men, to help them achieve their fullest potential. We believe in harnessing the unique strengths of individuals like yourself to create a better world. But sometimes, the path to greatness requires a transformation."

"Transformation?" Eric echoed, his unease growing. "What kind of transformation are we talking about?"

Jason stood and began to pace, his movements graceful and deliberate. "We use a blend of ancient practices and modern techniques, a touch of the occult, to help men tap into their deepest strengths. It's a process, but I assure you, the results are extraordinary."

Eric's skepticism was evident, but he couldn't deny the allure of the promise. "And what do you expect in return?"

"Your loyalty, your commitment to our cause," Jason replied smoothly. "We have the power to amplify your voice, to expand your influence far beyond what you could achieve alone. But you must be willing to embrace the change."

A shiver ran down Eric's spine. There was something both thrilling and terrifying about the proposition. He had always believed in the power of transformation, in personal growth and evolution. But the idea of subjecting himself to the unknown methods of The Society was daunting.

"And if I refuse?" Eric asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Jason stopped pacing and fixed Eric with a piercing gaze. "If you refuse, you continue on your current path, making incremental changes, fighting battles one at a time. But if you accept, you gain the power to reshape society on a grand scale."

The weight of the decision hung heavily in the air. Eric's mind raced, considering the implications. He had dedicated his life to making the world a better place, to fighting for those who couldn't fight for themselves. The opportunity to amplify his efforts was tempting, almost irresistibly so.

With a deep breath, Eric nodded. "Alright. I'll do it."

Jason's smile was almost triumphant. "Excellent. The process will begin immediately. Trust in the journey, Eric. The man you will become is someone you could never have imagined."

As the shadows in the room seemed to deepen and swirl around him, Eric couldn't shake the feeling that he had just crossed a threshold from which there would be no return.

As the room’s ambiance grew more surreal, a conservatively dressed man approached Eric, carrying a silver tray with a single, ornate goblet. The liquid inside shimmered with an ethereal glow, casting faint, dancing reflections on the dark wood of the table.

Jason gestured toward the goblet. “Drink, and the transformation will commence.”

Eric took the goblet, its cool metal sending a shiver through his fingers. He hesitated for a moment, then, with a resolve born of desperation and ambition, he brought it to his lips and drank deeply. The liquid was surprisingly warm, with a rich, spicy flavor that seemed to ignite a fire within his chest.

Almost immediately, Eric felt a strange sensation ripple through his body. His heart began to race, and he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself as an intense heat spread from his core. He watched in awe as his arms began to bulge, muscles swelling and expanding, veins rising to the surface of his skin. His fingers, once slender and artistic, thickened, the nails becoming more rugged and defined.

His shirt strained against his growing frame, seams stretching and then tearing as his chest broadened and his shoulders widened. He could feel his spine straightening, his posture shifting from the slightly stooped stance of someone always leaning over books or a guitar to the confident, commanding presence of an athlete. Eric’s legs, too, transformed, his thighs and calves gaining definition and power.

As the physical changes continued, Eric glanced at his reflection in a nearby polished surface. He watched, mesmerized, as the lines and wrinkles that had begun to mark his face vanished, replaced by smooth, taut skin. His features, once gentle and expressive, sharpened into a more chiseled, rugged handsomeness. His hair, which had started to show the first hints of gray, darkened to a rich, youthful hue.

Eric’s breathing quickened, a mix of exhilaration and fear surging through him. He flexed his hands, feeling the newfound strength coursing through his body. The sensation was intoxicating, yet disorienting. He looked down at himself, hardly recognizing the muscular, youthful figure he had become. His clothes, now in tatters, hung loosely from his transformed frame.

“What’s happening to me?” Eric gasped, his voice deeper and more resonant than before.

Jason’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You are becoming your most powerful self, Eric. The potential that lay dormant within you is being unlocked. Embrace it.”

Eric took a step back, nearly stumbling as he adjusted to his altered center of gravity. He felt a rush of conflicting emotions—pride in his newfound strength, confusion at the rapid changes, and a creeping sense of loss for the person he once was. He touched his face, his fingers tracing the unfamiliar contours of his jaw and cheekbones.

“Is this really me?” he murmured, a mixture of wonder and trepidation in his tone.

Jason nodded. “This is the beginning, Eric. You are now in a position to wield the influence and power necessary to reshape society. The Society will guide you, but it is up to you to harness your potential.”

As the initial shock of the transformation began to wear off, Eric felt a burgeoning confidence rising within him. He straightened to his full height, feeling a sense of power and capability he had never known before. The memories of his former self—his ideals, his passions—remained, but they were now infused with a newfound vigor and determination.

“I… I think I understand,” Eric said slowly, his voice steadying. “I can do more. Be more.”

Jason’s smile was approving. “Exactly. You are now ready to embark on the next phase of your journey. The Society will support you, but remember, true change comes from within.”

Eric nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. He glanced once more at his reflection, a sense of awe filling him at the sight of the powerful, confident young man staring back. The transformation was complete, but his journey was just beginning.

As he followed Jason out of the room, Eric couldn’t help but feel that his life, and his mission, had irrevocably changed. The world would soon meet a new Eric—one who was ready to seize his destiny and reshape the world in ways he had never before imagined.

As Eric stepped out of the dimly lit room, he was led into a spacious, opulently furnished lounge where several men were gathered, engaged in animated conversation. Their attire ranged from tailored suits to casual yet expensive-looking attire, each man exuding confidence and authority. The air was thick with the aroma of cigars and expensive whiskey, adding to the heady atmosphere.

Jason introduced Eric to the group, who greeted him with hearty handshakes and claps on the back. He could sense their approval, their eyes appraising his transformed physique. They began to talk, their voices a mix of joviality and intensity.

“So, Eric,” one man said, offering him a glass of whiskey, “what do you think about the state of masculinity today?”

Eric took the glass, his mind still buzzing from the transformation. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I think it’s important to have a balanced approach, respecting everyone’s rights and identities.”

The men exchanged glances, a few smirks playing on their lips. Another man, broad-shouldered and brash, leaned forward. “Sure, but what about real men? Guys who aren’t afraid to speak their minds, take charge, and push back against all this politically correct nonsense?”

Eric felt a flicker of discomfort but also a strange pull. He had always believed in respectful discourse, yet there was something compelling about the raw confidence these men exuded. “I suppose there’s value in being direct and assertive,” he conceded.

The conversation shifted, each man sharing his vision of the ideal fraternity—a place for strong, outspoken men who didn’t shy away from controversy. They painted a picture of a loud, boisterous brotherhood, where camaraderie was forged through shared challenges and unfiltered honesty.

“We need leaders who aren’t afraid to ruffle feathers,” one man declared. “Someone who can handle the banter, the parties, and still keep everyone in line. A real alpha.”

Eric found himself nodding along, the initial resistance in his mind weakening. The more they spoke, the more their words resonated with a primal part of him. His memories of advocating for inclusivity and respect seemed to blur, replaced by an emerging desire to fit in with these powerful men.

Another man chimed in, his tone conspiratorial. “Think about it, Eric. A leader who can throw back shots, tell it like it is, and doesn’t give a damn about stepping on toes. That’s what we need. Someone who can rally the guys and lead by example. No more of this sensitive, touchy-feely stuff.”

Eric felt a strange warmth in his chest, a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he was craving. The idea of leading such a group, of embodying this brash, unapologetic masculinity, began to appeal to him. His thoughts grew clouded, his previous convictions fading like a distant dream.

“Yeah,” Eric found himself saying, a new conviction in his voice. “Guys need to be able to express themselves without holding back. It’s about being real, being honest.”

The men cheered, raising their glasses in a toast. “Now you’re talking, Eric! Welcome to the brotherhood.”

As the night wore on, Eric’s transformation continued, not just physically but mentally. His language grew coarser, his laughter louder. He found himself embracing the crude jokes, the competitive banter, and the boisterous energy of the group. The liberal ideals he once held dear seemed naïve and distant, replaced by a burgeoning belief in the raw, unfiltered masculinity these men championed.

By the end of the evening, Eric felt like a different person. The gentle, artistic politician from New York was gone, replaced by a loud-mouthed, confident young man who was ready to lead this new fraternity. He reveled in the approval of his new peers, eager to prove himself in this new role.

As he left the lounge, Eric’s thoughts were consumed with plans for the future. He envisioned a fraternity that was strong, outspoken, and unapologetically masculine. He would be the leader they needed, the one who could bring their vision to life. And in doing so, he would reshape not only his destiny but the very fabric of society.

The Society had succeeded in molding him into their ideal—an agent of their grand design, ready to fight for what they deemed the proper way of life.

The following morning, Eric—or “Chad” as the men had started to call him—awoke in a luxurious suite, his mind foggy from the previous night’s revelry. The remnants of his former self felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the new, overpowering personality that had emerged. He glanced in the mirror and saw not the thoughtful, compassionate politician, but a rugged, muscular young man with a carefree, almost vacant expression.

He flexed his biceps, admiring the bulging muscles and feeling a surge of pride. The faint echoes of his past ideals and passions were buried deep beneath layers of newfound bravado and arrogance. His once bright, earnest eyes now gleamed with a mischievous, almost predatory glint.

As he joined the other men for breakfast, the transformation was complete. They greeted him with hearty slaps on the back and crude jokes, which he met with a dumb, hearty giggle that surprised even himself. It felt good to be accepted, to be one of them. He reveled in their approval, the camaraderie intoxicating.

“Morning, Chad!” one of the men called out. “Ready for another day of setting the world straight?”

“Hell yeah, bro!” Chad replied, his voice booming with newfound confidence. He downed a shot of whiskey that was handed to him, not even flinching at the burn. “Let’s show these losers how real men roll!”

The men laughed, a raucous sound that filled the room. One of them, a burly guy with a thick beard, leaned over and started telling a crude, homophobic joke. Chad felt a flicker of something—perhaps a distant echo of the old Eric—but it was quickly drowned out by the need to fit in, to be part of the group.

As the punchline hit, Chad let out a loud, stupid laugh, slapping his knee. The others roared with laughter too, and he felt a twisted sense of pride at their approval. The thoughtful, compassionate Eric who had championed civil rights and equality was gone, replaced by this new persona that thrived on crude humor and superficial charm.

Throughout the day, Chad’s behavior continued to reflect his transformation. He ogled women openly, making lewd comments and reveling in the attention he received. His interactions were marked by a blatant disregard for the respect and equality he once fervently championed. Women were now mere playthings, objects for his amusement.

He started filming TikTok videos with the other guys, their content filled with dumb, crude jokes and obnoxious behavior. They staged pranks, made sexist comments, and mocked those who didn’t fit their mold of “real men.” The videos quickly gained traction, their follower count skyrocketing as they played to the lowest common denominator.

One afternoon, as they lounged around a pool, filming yet another video, Chad caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water. For a fleeting moment, the face staring back at him was not just the brash, muscular frat bro but also a faint echo of who he used to be. The guitar-playing, theater-loving advocate for equality and justice. But as quickly as the thought came, it was drowned out by the booming laughter of his new friends and the thrill of their approval.

“Yo, Chad, get over here! We need you for this next prank!” one of them called out.

Chad grinned, letting the remnants of his former self slip away completely. “Coming, bro!” he shouted, rushing over with a swagger.

The transformation was complete. The sweet, compassionate Eric was gone, replaced by a 22-year-old, dumb-as-nails frat bro who lived for parties, crude jokes, and superficial thrills. The Society had molded him into their ideal—a loud, obnoxious figurehead for their new frat house, ready to spread their vision of a “proper” way of life. And Chad embraced it all with open arms, leaving behind any trace of the man he once was.

He now stood tall and broad-shouldered, his muscular frame a testament to hours spent at the gym, sculpting his body into a vision of hyper-masculine strength. His biceps bulged under the tight sleeves of his shirt, and his chest stretched the fabric to its limits.

Gone were the casual, artistic clothes Eric used to favor. Chad’s wardrobe was now a gaudy display of designer brands and ostentatious style. Today, he wore a skin-tight, bright red polo shirt with a large logo emblazoned on the chest, the buttons straining against his broad pectorals. Around his neck hung a heavy, gold cross necklace that gleamed under the light, a symbol of his newfound conservative identity.

His jeans were equally tight, designed to show off his muscular legs and sculpted rear. They were distressed, with strategic rips that highlighted his tan skin. On his feet, he wore expensive, brightly colored sneakers that added an extra inch to his already imposing height. His belt had a large, flashy buckle, the kind that drew attention and signaled his new, brash persona.

Chad’s face had undergone just as dramatic a change. His once gentle, expressive features were now sharp and defined. He sported a meticulously groomed chinstrap beard, a style that framed his jawline and added to his overall look of a stereotypical douchebag. His hair was gelled back in a style that screamed for attention, perfectly complementing his overall appearance.

A pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses often perched on his head or over his eyes, completing the ensemble. His skin had a perpetual tan, either from hours spent in the sun or a tanning booth, further enhancing the look of a man who prioritized appearances above all else.

Chad’s demeanor matched his appearance. He moved with a swagger, his every step exuding confidence and arrogance. His loud, boisterous laughter often filled the room, accompanied by crude jokes and derogatory comments. He reveled in the attention and admiration of his new peers, basking in their approval.

To those who knew Eric, Chad was unrecognizable. The sweet, thoughtful young politician who once championed equality and social justice had been completely replaced. Chad was now the embodiment of the Society's ideal—a straight, Republican douchebag with big muscles, gaudy clothes, a cross necklace, and a chinstrap beard. He lived for the parties, the attention, and the superficial thrills, leaving behind any trace of his former self in the process.

[lovecried]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚ DIVERSE PALETTE!

you always considered yourself diverse within the world of food & the culinary arts, but you realize how inept you are when you meet sukuna. he lets you know that your palette was weak until you tried him.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, sukuna ryomen, fluff & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 1544 words.

╰┈➤ chef!sukuna, afab!reader (she/her pronouns), panty thief!sukuna, fingering, slight pussy job, unprotected sex, finger sucking, lowercase intended (i wrote this on my phone lolz), not proofread.

( author's note. ) kinda wanna expand on chef!sukuna now? would love to write a long fic dedicated to it now. it'd be so yummy 😋 !!

"oh, really?" his chuckle is deep, reverberating from his chest as he listens to you go on and on about the many trips you've taken around the world. how you've tried so many cuisines and the authentic delicacies of the people from whichever country you've made a visit to. you're not even trying to be a pretentious bitch, eyes lighting up in genuine passion as they sparkle under the dim lights of the restaurant of his choice.

the moment he had mention his interests in cooking, never letting you know that he was a chef with a restaurant of his own, you leaned in over the table, your interest evidently piqued as he gives a simple shrug, not finding what about his occupation made him so captivating. this blind date was supposed to fail, he thought. he believed that with the shrug of his shoulders and his dreadful nonchalance would pull you away from him. a sweet thing that sat at a table all along after he was nearly an hour late. eyes that pitied you as you looked around in expectance. truthfully, his plans were to stand you up, but you were badgering his friends and in response, his friends badgered him.

a few of his "friends" or his work colleagues as he preferred to put it, had set him up on one in hopes to get him out of his work. he found nothing intriguing about his career choice, yet he slaved away in the kitchen to perfect his craft. he loved his job, but he didn't see the point in talking about it outside of it. it's what he did, and when he did allot time outside of it, he didn't want to talk about it.

but you? you wore a vermillion dress that went well with your warm undertones, causing you to glow within the stiff building. where everyone else wore the safe colors of black and white, you stood out in the satin cloth that clings to you in a snug fit with gold jewelry that rests against your brown skin and further accentuates your beauty. you're not wearing that much makeup, but sukuna wouldn't know. that's not something he's too familiar, but if you are, it melts beautifully into your skin and it's alluring.

he finds your passion for the topic amusing, noticing that you're picking at your plate with your fork. you've eaten a bit, but not a lot. tapping his feet against the tiled-floor as he took becomes interested, it must be contagious. "what do you think about your food tonight? how does it compare to everywhere else you've been?"

"oh! um..." you stop in your tracks, eyes widening at the tone he takes. you realize that you've done it again. started rambling and made yourself seem like all that you're not. you become hyper aware of everything you're doing, wondering if you're being an asshole by bringing up your experiences. you've been told that you might come across that way. in fact, before arriving to this date, you were told not to bring up your trips. and here you are, doing just that. "um, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to come off a certain way—"

he notices that you drop the fork, letting it fall to the plate with a clank. you start fidgeting with your nails, picking at the skin. an awful habit you've come to have. "i'm no food critic or expert, just a foodie who travels a lot, so i don't think that it'll really matter. the food does taste good though! i just got... a little ahead of myself."

cute, he thinks.

"huh?" you grow flustered at the mumbled comment. you're sure he didn't mean to utter that out loud if you're absolutely sure you caught what he said. it's good to know that you've got his attention somehow.

"hm?" he dismisses it with a clear in his throat. "well, i didn't mean to sound so condescending myself. i just wanted to see if this restaurant was matching your tastes."

the heat bites at your face, as you're quick to dismiss his words. "oh, don't worry! i'll eat anything— everything matches my tastes."

"oh yeah?" his voice grows even huskier. "then im pretty sure you won't mind having a taste of me."

"what... what?" the conversation has took a turn and you're unsure if it's for the better or worse, but sukuna's sitting up in his chair, leaning closer to you to the point you can feel his breath against your skin. you didn't mishear him. you know that for sure just based on the dark gleam in his eyes.

"you heard me," a devious grin graving his features. sharp, carnivorous teeth that peak out from his lips in a dashing grin. "i'm dying to just have a taste of you. i'm sure you wouldn't mind having one for yourself, hm?"

₊˚⊹♡

he's an insatiable creature who's lips you can't help but devour whenever he's in your presence. a man that you can't get enough of and puts all of your endeavors to shame. you've come to learn that he's a man skilled in the kitchen as well in the bed, that first night after your first date with him, putting every other man and every plate into an embarrassed frenzy.

he was bold and passionate, despite what he wanted to deceive you on. his nonchalance could never hide how he yearned and strived to be better and to improve every dish he's created.

"no one's ever mastered anything," he told you once, while he cooked you steamed fish. his callused hands moving delicately across the plate as he handled the food with care. this was a dinner date after all, and he had to improve his little food critic. "there's always some way we can improve."

what you both believed to be one night of heavenly passion turned into more. something genuine being pulled out in the midst of it all. he was right in a sense. it was human nature to have flaws, but you could see none of his. not even with the way he manhandled you in the night, while in the day, he'd hold you like a lady.

he was a course that you had never tasted before. that exploded on your taste buds the moment you kissed him. with a lingering touch and the swipe of his finger against your bottom lip before he intoxicated you with his divinity. he was something that had you weak in the knees, ready to bow down to him at any moment's time. he proved to you that your exquisite palette was as exquisite as you made it to be.

his rough, callused hands that are tender from a long day's worth of cooking and preparation for the next hold gently as he carries you over to the bed. lines of blue that traverse his wrists, a thumb padding and rubbing calming circles into your hips. smooth and soft, supple lips that capture yours for a heated kiss— a shared silence between the two of you, minus the huffs of haughty moans and the air you both share.

your whines and whimpers are weak, swallowed by him as he devours you. but you do the same. nimble fingers that grasp at him, arms that wrap around his shoulder and nails digging into his back. he flexes and contracts at the pinch of skin, trying to get impossibly closer. the pile of clothing builds into a haphazardous mess, watching the two of you messily dance towards your bed.

and you bounce when you land on top, a squeal that should all be too familiar with this process. your eyes gloss and shimmer with an expectancy as they take in sukuna's spectacular form. black ink that travel the course of his body, prominent in the dim lighting of his bedroom.

your eyes roam as he unzips his pants, a relief to be unrestrained as he shimmies from out of them and they pool to the floor. black boxer briefs that hug him perfectly and does nothing to hide the growing erection that's underneath. all the while, his eyes stayed on yours, watching how you were so mesmerized with him. one knee causes the bed to dip, the route to you is now muscle memory. he hovers over you, an intimidating spirit that causes your stomach to flutter with butterflies and a pool growing in between your legs.

your fingers reach for the band of his underwear, and with you, he's not afraid to let go. he exhales as he lets you reach inside, fingers that graze and gently pull at the dark hues of his happy trail, combing your digits through the tufts of hair before you feel the base of his cock. you both let out a sound of need— you anticipating his cock and him loving the feeling of you around him. he has a habit of knitting his eyebrows together whenever you give into the urge, thick bushes that allude to one as a guttural sound leaves his lips.

your hands are cold, sending a shiver down his spine as you squeeze slightly at the base. he continues to harden under your hold, the tent in his boxer briefs becoming more prominent despite your hand inside it. your free hand comes to wrap around his waist, feeling each crevice and well-sculpted muscle of him as you drag him down into you. releasing your hand from his underwear, you buck your hips into his erection. you're so heavy with need, wrapping a leg to pull him in immensely as you mewl. "ryo, i need you."

with a menacing smirk, his eyes look down at you devilishly. "'m all yours for the taking."

"i need you t'do something, ryo," you specify, growing whiny at his teasing and bucking your hips further into him. his bulge rubbing against your pussy, your juices seeping through your panties. your back arches from the bed, grinding up into him for the friction and how it feels so good. your chest beats fast, your breathes becoming short with heavy want and desire. it's so bad, you're starting to tear up the longer sukuna withholds action. "please."

"alright." he gives in easy at the sight of a tear prickling the corner of your eye. arms lowering to press his chest into yours and immediately capturing you for a kiss, his hands going straight to cupping your pussy and feeling just how wet you are through the lacy fabric. you both move in a rhythm, further dampening your panties as you exhale in delight. you mewl into his lips, letting him swallow every sound from you as he gnaws on your bottom lip.

rubbing in circles to your clothed clit, soon enough he can hear just how wet you are from his very few actions. he tugs down the underwear, pulling it down by the crotch. you assist in kicking it off, well aware that this might be another pair that'll find itself lost and no longer in your possession now that it's in the hands of sukuna. he's hasty in shoving two fingers inside of you, needing to stretch you no matter how many times the two of you have both shared this bed. you croak out a slightly pained moan as sukuna sucks on your bottom lip, shifting your focus.

your walls greedily suck him in, your juices like a trap as sukuna wants nothing than to create more, to see once more just how your pussy reacts to him. deep inside, his fingers curl inside of you before pulling out. his wet fingers traversing to your clit and taunting your needy hole. you clench, your juices seeping out as sukuna circles your nub. "that's enough, hm? or does my darling need more?"

fingers returning to its home inside your pussy, you whine at the feeling as he sets a moderate pace, fucking you with his thick fingers. your eyes shut, basking in the feeling as you let your body relax into him. no, it's never enough. he fills you with a carnal need that you're not sure you'll ever be able to satiate. he has you addicted, forever wanting more. will this intimacy ever be enough?

"i need more," you finally answer, hands reaching for his erection once more. cupping his cock as he did your pussy. "want you— your cock in me. please, ryo. please."

with a few more thrusts of his fingers, he removed them and lets them dance on your tongue, letting you taste your need for him. your tongue swirls, saliva replacing your slick. he joins you in your hum of delight, missing him tugging down his boxer briefs. a length too heavy that it falls, dark shafts with a mushroom tip, he holds it. rubbing the tip with his thumb, he hisses at how needy he is, feeling how much he himself also wants you.

he plants his length in between your folds, bucking his hips into you as he slides inbetween your pussy lips. his head tilts, fitting it in the crevice of your neck. his breath sends jolts down you, feeling his lips on your jaw as the head of his cock kisses your entrance, slowly sliding in. "it's all yours, love."

and feeling him inside you again, reminds you once more that you've never had anything— anyone — as good as him.

[minniesmutt]

Hi first off congratulations 🎊 on your 1k and for your event could there be Angelreader x Demon Felix with prompt #7 ? ("I'm not jealous! Its just... your mine")

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: FELIX X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPT: 7 “I’m not jealous! its just… you’re mine!”  ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: ANGEL!READER, DEMON!FELIX, COULD BE SEEN AS A PART TWO TO “FALL FROM HEAVEN WITH ME”, PUBLIC SEX, SUPERNATURAL ABILITIES, ESTABLISHED(ISH) RELATIONSHIP, POSSESSIVE FELIX, CLOTHED SEX, PANTY RIPPING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.5K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

“Lix,” Y/n warned as she felt the demon on her neck again.

He just hummed in response. He had managed to persuade her into joining him out at one of the city's nightclubs. Felix just forgot how attracting and alluring angels could be. He’d been practically fighting off humans all night.

“You don’t need to be jealous,” Y/n reminded him

“I’m not jealous. It’s just,” Felix pulled her closer to him, “You’re mine. And everyone needs to know that, angel.”

The demon bit down on her skin, his hands holding her hips tightly. Almost about to rip the fabric of the dress she was wearing.

“Lix,” Y/n warned again

“You're enjoying it,” Felix teased as he grinded his hips against her ass.

Y/n turned towards the demon and wrapped her arms around him. Felix smiled and pressed his lips to hers. Tongue sneaking into her mouth as his hands grabbed her ass. Y/n moaned into his mouth and a few moments later was pressed against a wall. She could still hear the music loud and clear.

The demon got his hands under her dress and tore open the fabric of her panties, giving him easy access without moving them to the side while she undid his belt and jeans. The moment Felix felt her hand pull him from the confines of his pants, he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Y/n instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, lips breaking away from his and looking down at him.

Felix smiled up at her as he pushed into. Watching her face contorted in pleasure, head falling back against the wall. Felix leaned forward and continued his path of marking and biting her neck. Making sure everyone knew the angel was with someone.

Y/n clenched around him as he started thrusting into her. Keeping her pressed up against the wall as he roughly pounded into her. Y/n managed to pull the demon away from her neck and press her lips down onto his. His tongue found its way back into her mouth as she gripped his hair.

It’d been months since they both finally gave in, somewhat ending a millennium long feud between each other. The demon plucked one of Heaven's soldiers from its grasp and held her in his. And those months Y/n felt like she had been molded to him. Both now making up for centuries of what humans called sexual tension.

Y/n moaned into his mouth as her ward pulsated around them. It wasn't too long ago they had entered the club— after going a round in the car— and she felt that high she’d become addicted to building again. Especially with the excitement of the possibility of being caught.

“Lix,” Y/n whined as she gripped the roots of his long hair tighter

“Gonna come for me again? Let everyone here know your mine? Go ahead angel.”

Y/n didn't need to be told twice. Her high hit her again as she held onto the demon like her life depended on it. Felix groaned as she clenched around him. His own orgasm hit seconds later as she rode out her high and he filled her up.

The two pulled away from their kiss and seconds later were laying in the back of his car, coming down from their highs. The demon pressed a kiss onto the top of her chest.

“Mine.”

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[thebluester2020]

[SDV] "Cheater"

Summary: SDV + RSV Bachelors(s) as the "side piece" Warning(s): Cheating! (The farmer's husband/boyfriend is just an unknown NPC in this case), Dubcon(?) (Reader is tipsy in Alex's part but still coherent enough to consent), Hints of emotional abuse on Sam's part, NSFW F I L T H, Degradation (on Shane's part), Slut-shaming (Also on Shane's part). Side note(s): Before I get the messages— Yes, I know that cheating is wrong 😭. This is all fictional and simply me being inspired after reading this one jjk cheating smau by @/nanaslutt. Also, I decided not to include Harvey since I couldn't imagine a scenario where he'd willingly participate in infidelity??? So sorry Harvey lovers.

Also, I REALLY wanted to add RSV! Jio into this but this whole thing was becoming too long as it was so- better luck next time 😔

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Elliot

Your relationship with Elliot started after you two met in a bookstore. A few days after your wedding night mind you, after that night passed, you realized just how boring and unambitious your husband was! All he did was go to his 9-5, come home, and eat dinner before going straight to bed!

He never seemed interested in touching you, much less showing you any type of affection.

But with Elliot? Every single moment with him felt as if you were in a romance novel. His sweet words combined with his gentle touches were electrifying, every single second he made it clear that he wanted you to all himself and that he didn't care that you were a married woman!

Of course though, you tried to deny to yourself that you wanted anything more than an emotional fling with him. Your husband was handsome...just a little lacking in the emotional department. Elliot was simply around to fulfill that.

But one weekend, when you had driven from ZuZu city to Pelican town to spend some extended time with him while your husband was out for business...seeing him shirtless was practically the last straw before you hopped into bed with him.

♡ - Elliot felt like he had just entered the gates of heaven.

He couldn't believe how long he had waited to have you.

Since the very second he met you in that bookstore...you had never once left his mind, even when he learned that you were married! The first time he thought about what you possibly looked like underneath your clothes, he quickly reeled himself back in and swore to never think about you in such a perverted way again. All until you wore a short dress that brought attention to your legs, paired with a cute pair of wedges that gave you an alluring sway.

Right then and there, his mind wandered.

Suddenly Elliot wondered about how good your body would feel against his own, just a simple touch and nothing more. Perhaps running a hand up your arm or even caressing your face.

Then...when you decided to sit next to him at a park, your dress riding a little too high up your thigh. Only then did he wonder what you looked like underneath your clothes, how good would your cunt feel rubbing against his clothed cock, how sweet would your moans sound? Were you loud or shy? He definitely wouldn't mind putting in a little extra work if it meant you'd give him a taste of what you sounded like...something that even your poor husband hadn't heard yet.

But now? As he currently fucked you inside of his cabin, he no longer had to dream or wonder anymore. Your nails clawing up and down his back as if you were an animal in heat whilst your pussy clamped so tightly around his cock that it threatened to make him cum on the spot! "Oh, my darling..." Elliot panted, his moans closing in on sounding more like desperate whines as he pressed a press right behind your ear as a hand moved from your thigh to cup your cheek.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," He continued. Every word was as if he were saying a sacred prayer to a goddess.

And in his eyes? You were exactly that.

A goddess.

One that was allowing her lowly servant to worship her body despite belonging to the arms of another. And that fact, the fact that you chose him over the husband you complained about so much to him...constantly stating that you didn't feel appreciated or that your husband treated you as if you were just another routine in his life. It only served to make him harder, to the point his thrusts increased in both speed and fervor whilst your moans increased in frequency and volume.

"N-Now...you don't have to go back to him, right?" Elliot said with a loving smile as he peppered your face and neck with kisses.

"You can stay with me," He kissed your lips.

"I'll appreciate you, treat you like you truly deserve my love."

Then he pressed another kiss between your brests.

You struggled to retain Elliot's words, the burning tight knot in the pit of your gut making you keen and squirm in eagerness and anticipation of your orgasm. And he didn't mind, not in the slightest. He'd fuck you dumb until you couldn't remember your husband, simple! So long as you continued calling out his name, so long as your husband remained far from your mind and you stayed in his bed just like this...he'd didn't need only a response. Only the heat of your warm slick walls on his cock, your moans and that loving gaze in your eyes.

The simple, non-routine things.

Sebastion

To start off, there was nothing wrong with your boyfriend. He was sweet-hearted, treated you well and made you laugh! But...he didn't have a job, he refused to get a job, all as he said under the same breath that there wasn't a single job out there that was "worthy of his time"! But in your ears? It just sounded like he wanted you to work, all while you were cleaning the house, as well as the main cook without a single smidge of help from his side!

The tension caused by this was clear.

And your boyfriend thought the best way to clear the air was by taking you to a start-up band's show downtown in Zuzu city!

It wouldn't fix things so easily but...you were stressed so you decided to go to escape your issues with him for a few hours at the very least.

At the end of the show however? While your boyfriend was talking to the only female member of the band. That's when you met Sebastion, your heart skipping a beat at how he looked at you with hooded eyes and talked to you so smoothly while he smoked a cigarette.

All too soon afterward, that's also when you found yourself in some alleyway while he bounced you on his dick against a graffitied wall.

♡ - The feeling of the rough wall against your back was electrifying.

The speed in which you met Sebastion, talked to him before you two felt comfortable enough to be fucking in an alleyway was practically lightning speed! But you loved every fucking second of it, slick pouring from your abused cunt as his hard dick plowed your insides, all the, while your arms were wrapped around his neck to both, stabilize yourself as well as pull him closer to further indulge in the feeling of his lips roughly kissing your neck.

"Ohmy—" You moan choked up in your throat when your lover lightly bit down on your neck, his hands on your ass tightening as he suddenly increased in speed. He groaned at the feeling of you somehow getting even tighter, the sight of his sharp gray eyes looking up at you through hooded eyes making you whine at the sexy sight.

Yet...for Sebastion? Despite your addictive moans and the way you pulled his head closer for more of his attention...the sight of your eyes constantly darting to the end of the alleyway? As if you were expecting someone.

He didn't know why but...it infuriated him.

So much that he tore his lips from your neck to practically growl in your ear with a raspy accusatory tone. "What are you looking for?" He panted in your ear.

"O-Oh—!" You gasped sharply when he thrust up inside of you suddenly, to call your attention back to him. "N-Nothing!" Half-lire and half-true, on the one hand? It was a struggle to keep completely focused when he was dicking you down so good, more so when the knot inside your belly was becoming impossible to ignore in lieu of your impending orgasm.

Yet on the other hand? Your brain retained enough cohesiveness to remember the fact that you had a boyfriend. One that could appear right around the bend fo the alleyway at any moment and see you being fucked by another man— "Hey," Once more, Sebastion lightly nipped at your neck, somehow speeding his thrusts up even more to where you had to throw a hand around your mouth to keep from screaming out like a wanton whore.

"Focus on me," He ordered. "I—shit—don't know who you're looking for but—"

"B-Boyfriend...oh fuck...!"

Oh.

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place.

The man you arrived with and seemed to be annoyed at every single time he cheered too loudly when Abigail had a solo.

The one he briefly spotted you arguing with here and there...however, although you mentioned your boyfriend with such a worried tone. Your pussy tightened, your walls clenching and unclenching to the point where Sebastion had no choice to assume that you enjoyed the idea of your boyfriend catching the both of you in the act of fucking one another in a dirty alleyway! "Dirty." He smirked, gently pulling your hand down from your lips, your moans quickly erupting from your lips.

"You should be quiet." He smirked. "What if your boyfriend comes around?" Once more, you clenched at the mention of your boyfriend.

A guttural groan escaped his throat before he pressed you closer to the wall, his orgasm closing in closer and closer at the idea of someone catching you two together. A shut-in like himself...fucking such a pretty woman who decided to cheat on her boyfriend in an alleyway, it was something that he thought only happened in bad pornos. "Unless...you'd like that?" He smirked.

"I don't mind, just continued being loud. Let him walk around and see how good some random man's cock makes you feel."

That did it for you, your orgasm suddenly rushing over you with such a force that made your legs shake and your cunt have a seizure around his cock. The feeling of your orgasm brought Sebastion to his own as he pressed himself against you until he was at the base of his dick, a drawn-out moan leaving his lips as he stilled until he steadily pulled himself out. He whistled quietly at the sight of his cum dripping from your cunt, up until he heard a gasp at the end of the alleyway.

He saw only a brief flash of something.

Perhaps an embarrassed passerby.

But he liked to believe it was your boyfriend, the same one you clearly didn't care about much if you were here right now cheating on him.

"Seems like your boyfriend caught us," He said.

"W-Wha...?" You said dopely.

"Doesn't matter," He swiftly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Since he already knows...wanna go again?"

Sam

Your boyfriend was mean.

Not to be the point where he was abusing you physically but emotionally? Most definitely, he was the reason why you didn't do a lot things in your life and was the reason why you were afraid to take a step outside of your home most of the time.

To the point where it affected your decision in terms of taking your grandfather up on taking care of his farm or not. Your boyfriend decided it was "best" to hide away the letter somewhere in the house, and you haven't been able to find it since. You assumed that was just how your life would be for the rest of your days until...you met Sam.

A golden retriever of a man whom you met when you happened by him and his band having a show.

You decided to watch from afar as you didn't have a ticket but once the show was over? You and Sam immediately hit it off, his bright personality and outlook on life was refreshing, the way he complimented you made you see stars almost and when you hinted at wanting a different life. He immediately encouraged you to go after it!

It was love at first sight for the both of you.

And when Sam suggested you come to his hotel room for the night, you didn't waste a single second saying "yes".

♡ - "You're so pretty..." Such simple words, whispered to you in a dimly lit hotel room whilst a show played in the background with the volume lowered. Yet...to you? Such kind words meant everything and the world to you.

It was wrong of you to cheat on your boyfriend, you knew and understood that so well. Your boyfriend was mean but...no one deserved to be cheated on, right? Even if the person in question called you names every night, threatened you with such cruel things each time you even mildly suggested leaving or sometimes even thought that it was a good idea to talk about themself to make you feel bad for them! It was the same tactics, every single time.

And they worked.

Until tonight.

After watching a start-up band's show from afar, you were entranced by Sam's music and how he looked on stage. How happy and carefree he looked while he played his guitar, even though there was only a handful of people in the crowd, he played as if it was broadcast to the entire world! And something about the sight made you want to get to know him more, to the point where...somehow. You were here, in this hotel being fucked so lovingly by him that it made your chest tighten and ache.

"So...so...so pretty." Sam continued to whisper in your ear as he fucked into you from behind while you both lay on your sides. Your leg lifted up as his arm reached around to rub at your throbbing clit. Each touch was gentle and tender, as if you were a porcelain doll that would break at the slightest bit of rough treatment. And you couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get enough of how his soft lips felt against your cheek and how he pressed himself against your backside so closely as if he were afraid you'd disappear.

"We should continue seeing each other after this, don't you think?" He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear.

You blushed deeply at the thought. "I...I don't—Oh...!" Such a cruel tactic, to distract your nervous thoughts with a sudden thrust up into your slick cunt or suddenly increasing the pace in which he rubbed at your clit.

"You sure?" A soft moan left your kiss-swollen lips at how tender Sam's voice was, as if he were a dejected puppy trying to get his owner to give him another treat. "You said you had a boyfriend right? He doesn't have to know...this can be our secret." He continued to speak, pressing more kisses to the side of your face as he increased the pace of your thrusts, the pleasure beginning to override any critical thinking functions in your head as you started to consider Sam's words.

In another world...if Sam were your boyfriend...you could be sooooo much happier.

You knew he'd treat you so kindly, would never utter a single mean thing about you or himself in order to get you to do as he said.

He'd always keep you in the forefront of his thoughts. A paradise on earth.

"C-C'mon—fuck—say yes, I like you....I realllyyyy do." He begged, a whine escaping him as his thrusts began to speed up, his pace stuttering here and there whilst his fingers worked more fervently to bring you to orgasm along with him.

"I...I can't do that to my—fuck!—b-boyfriend...l-like that!" You whined.

"He'll be m-mad!"

Sam frowned a little. "You're already cheating on him with some random guitar player you met tonight, you can't do anything worse." He whispered.

"Just leave him, be with me...please?"

You didn't know what it was, but the way he uttered such a sweet plea tugged at both your heartstrings and the knot in your tummy, a loud whine leaving your lips before your pussy seized around Sam's cock, your newfound lover panting your name hotly in your ear for a few more thrusts before he stilled with a grunt, his fingers continuing to circle at your clit for a few more times until you whispered your growing discomfort from overstimulation.

The both of you sat in silence for a few beats, your heartrates steadily coming down as the reality of your new situation came to light more and more. You'd make the call that you were officially leaving your boyfriend tomorrow, for the now? All you wanted to do was lay in your lover's arms and sleep until the next day...as for Sam however?

To have such a cute girl in his bed? Not to mention a, hopefully, new girlfriend that was as sweet as you?

He'd forever be thankful to Yoba that playing tonight in Zuzu city allowed him to cross paths with you.

Alex

To be fair to you, you were tipsy and Alex looked soooo much like your boyfriend! Handsome, strong, and tall. Adorable eyes and a voice that made you clench your thighs.

And to be fair to Alex...he hadn't a single clue that you had a boyfriend when he first met you. All he understood was that someone new had arrived to Pelican Town to take over the old farm about ten minutes away from town!

So, when he first laid eyes on you in the Stardrop Saloon....he was hooked quite quickly.

Long-legs and pretty, the deep v-neck dress you also wore didn't do good for his imagination either. He wanted to get to know you better.

Thus? He did.

But he should've had a clue that you had a boyfriend with how much you constantly called him a different name but he didn't mind! He would remind you of his actual name as many times as you liked so long as you continued rubbing yourself up against him. So long as you continued to whisper dirty things in his ear and smile so sweetly in his face.

And let's just say, when you lead him to your home. You learned quite quickly as to how to remember your new lover's name.

♡ - "See? Feels so much better when you're calling out the right name, right?" Alex cooed to you, sucking hickeys into your neck as he pulled your hips down onto his cock. The prominent vein along the side of his dick constantly teasing and rubbing against a sweet spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your voice go a pitch higher every single time.

And you couldn't deny that...he was completely fucking right. At the bar, you assumed Alex was your boyfriend! He looked so much like him and had the same mannerisms that you were shocked when he kept saying he wasn't your boyfriend! But in your tipsy state, you thought a game was being played on you. A game that you couldn't exactly decide if you were winning or losing at seeing how overstimulated you were from the amount of times you've cum up until now.

"Fuck—!" You cried. "Oh...I think—I—" Suddenly, Alex felt a gushing sensation around his cock, a smirk decorating his face as he moaned at the sensation.

"Shit," He panted. "That's the second time tonight, huh?" He smirked, licking his lips as he rose himself up to better look at your glistening cunt as a thick white ring started to show on his dick. You didn't know how but, you could've sworn that he just became harder.

"H-How are you—" Your breath caught up in your throat when his hand moved to play with your tits, cupping and squeezing him as a perverted glint shimmered in his eyes. "—How are you still hard...?! J-Just cum already!"

"Oh baby, I know you don't want that." He smirked. "You're fucking cryin' and moanin' for my cock like your boyfriend doesn't fuck you good back at home!" You pouted at his words, you had only known this man for...a few hours, at most? Yet he already pinpointed you down to a T almost! Even now, you swore you loved your boyfriend with all your heart and soul.

But Yoba, Alex knew how to make you see stars with how his cock reached places inside of you that you previously didn't even know existed! "C'mon~" Alex said to you as he leaned down to you, tapping the side of your face a few times to snap you from your cock-drunk state. "Say that I'm better than your boyfriend. You know you want to."

A moan left your lips at his request, your moans easily turning into yelps and cries of pleasure as Alex picked up the pace. His fingers reached down to circle and pinch at your aching clit as the combined sensation of both pleasure and slight pain made your third orgasm approach you rapidly. "W-Wait—ah!—j-just a break! Fuck!"

"Not until you say I'm fucking you better than your boyfriend pretty."

The second you felt his movements begin to slow, you cracked as easily as an egg under an anvil. "Oh..." You moaned. "You're b-better than my boyfriend. Soooo much better!" You continued to whine in response, slightly irritated at how Alex made you say such an embarrassing sentence, even as you were already so wet that your slick was soaking the bedsheets! Yet Alex couldn't get enough of it, of you and the fact that he now has someone new to play around with.

"We're going to have so much fun together pretty," He smirked.

"I'll make you forget all about your boyfriend."

Shane

He didn't mean to lust after his best friend's wife.

But you were too gorgeous to not have at least some wandering thoughts about. After all, so long as he didn't act on these thoughts, it wasn't bad right?

So since the day he met you, he'd think about how your legs would look wrapped around him. How sweet your moans would sound in his ear or how your breasts would feel in his hands. But, he knew these thoughts were becoming a problem the moment he started getting a hard-on just from spotting you or even smelling a hint of your perfume.

But as for you...you relished in seeing how your husband's friend lusted after you.

In fact, you preferred Shane over your poor husband.

He had a rugged handsomeness in comparison to your clean and perfect husband. From the small moments you'd spot Shane's hard-ons when he'd suddenly excused himself. He was bigger and way thicker than your husband too!

You begun to think that you had made a mistake marrying him so quickly.

And you decided one day, after visiting Marnie's farmhouse and realizing that Shane was home alone, that you would remedy that mistake immediately.

♡ - "Oh Yoba—!" You practically squealed into Shane's pillow as he plowed into your needy cunt from behind. "So dirty Shane~ you must've realllllyyyyy wanted me."

You talked wayyyyy too much.

That single thought ran circles inside of Shane's head as he fucked you, your legs flailing about from the pleasure he was delivering to you whilst a hand grabbed your hair and forced your head down into the pillow. Yet your talkativeness wasn't a bad thing he feared, oh no, he loved it. When you were with your husband, each time you spoke was like hearing a little piece of an angel's choir straight from heaven's gates.

Syrupy and almost like a siren's.

Threatening to lead him further and further down into the pit of sin, of wrongfully lusting after you. Yet...now? It was only encouraging him to fuck you harder and harder until your voice either gave out or until you were only capable of saying his name over and over like a prayer. "God, you're such a mouthy slut." He murmured, the annoyed bite in his words only serving to make you wetter as you smirked in response.

"Oh yeah?" You giggled cheekily. "You should do something to make me shut up—Ah~!" Shane shut you up with a firm thrust into your needy hole, a few more murmured curses slipping from his slips as he increased his pace as well as his roughness. You turned your head on the pillow to look back at him through the corner of your eye, neediness written all over your expression as your lip quivered with how much you wanted to continue to goad him into fucking you harder, rougher as if he were jealous of your husband.

You thought it was hilarious at how obvious his eyes were when he looked at you. You had no clue how your husband didn't call his friend out on his staring yet!

Then again...your husband was always so clueless.

If he couldn't catch his friend staring at his wife, even when it was going on right in front of him.

Then he definitely wouldn't find out about your little newfound love affair.

"H-How would your friend feel about this, h-huh?" You panted out.

"His best friend losing himself in his wife's pussy—Oh!" You giggled.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Shane's cock hit a sweet spot inside of you, his head tipping back as he lost himself in the feeling of your tight cunt milking his cock. "God—you just can't ever close your mouth..." He moaned, his pace stuttering a little as he pressed a hand into the dip in your back, making you arch as well as causing your moans to cut off in a choked whine each time his dick plowed into you. "So fucking tight in this position...I can feel that spot inside of you, the one that makes you go allll stupid for me." He smirked, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as steadily as he possibly could in order to try and delay his orgasm to further indulge on how it became harder and harder for you to speak.

Your cunt felt like a vice, he had to focus intensely just to keep from cumming! Suddenly though, your mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm washed over you suddenly, something that wasn't too unexpected due to the way Shane's cock was rubbing all the right spots inside of you, as well as the way his balls were slapping right against your clit.

"Maybe I should put a baby inside of you," Shane smirked. "How'd you react then, huh? Carrying another man's kid, eh?" He said, not missing how your cunt clenched at the thought, only spurring him to thrust into you more harshly as you whined and kicked your legs up and down.

"S-So meannnn." You whined.

"A-And yet here you are...being fucked dumb on another man's dick, fucking shameless." He groaned before he stilled against your ass, his cock twitching inside of you as you moaned at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your insides.

You whined in slight disappointment when he pulled out, all before he parted your ass to get a better look at your pussy dripping with his seed. "Damn," He whistled. "Guess you'll have to take this used pussy back to your husband, eh?"

"Or...you could stay with me."

[bagofshinyrocks]

Green-Eyed Monster

Prompt: Established relationship; Reader is jealous of someone flirting with their spouse Thranduil, who is oblivious [inspo from @nightfall-writer]

Featuring: Thranduil Oropherion x GN!Spouse!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: nothing besides my "Tauriel and Legolas are BFFs" propaganda

You had no reason for envy. 

You were happily wed to the love of your life. Joined the royalty of Eryn Galen through your marriage to the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion. Doted upon by your husband, and cared for by your subjects. You wanted for nothing.

And yet… in had crept “the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on” (Othello III:3).

There was never any doubt in your mind that Thranduil was faithful to you. His love for you was as unwavering as water downhill. As was yours for him.

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you, and all but melted into your embrace in the privacy of your bedchambers. The touch of your hand more calming than chamomile. The taste of your lips more intoxicating than wine. Your bare skin more alluring than a soft bed after a long day.

But as wise and regal as your husband was, he could be a bit thick in the head at times.

It had been a whole ordeal for the two of you to come together in the first place. A host of conspirators, led by Legolas and Tauriel. An idiotic dance as the two of you convinced yourselves that your feelings were unrequited. You were surprised that your now step-son had not smacked either of you upside the head at least once. His patience was unparalleled. In this instance at least.

So you couldn’t quite blame your husband for not recognizing others’ romantic interest in him.

There were nobles from other lands, elf, dwarrow, and man alike, who were visiting. After the Battle of the Five Armies and the retaking of Erebor by the line of Durin, he decided (i.e. he was persuaded) to expand trade relations, renew treaties, and welcome ambassadors. It seemed that almost every month brought someone new to his halls.

And you weren’t surprised that someone else would find your husband attractive. Not at all.

When you first met him, you could barely breathe. Ageless beauty. Sleek, shining blond hair. Piercing blue eyes. Luxurious clothing and jewelry with more detail than one could find in a day. Voice and speech that crept into your ears and made a home in your mind. You found the Sindar attractive the moment you saw him.

For an ambassador or noble to find Thranduil handsome meant their eyes functioned in some capacity. To find his voice and speech charming, their ears. That did not bother you. It was when their feelings changed like yours did, from aesthetic appreciation to romantic desire.

And he was oblivious to it all. Your speechlessness the day you met, your intimidation at meeting a king. The eagerness for those to meet with him, an eagerness to engage with Eren Galen and its wealth of materials, labor, and beauty.

Jealousy seemed so irrational an emotion. Thranduil was wholly yours; inattentive towards other romantic pursuits. Doted upon you. Craved your company and affection at all times

But it ate at you. Others and their lingering glances. Flirtatious words. Gentle brushes against him. And the ugliness of what you felt.

Your marriage was still recent, especially by elven standards. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. To act like a child who refuses to let others play with their toy. You would turn away and pretend you did not see it, or skip meetings you were not invited to.

Thranduil was concerned. Held you close at night. Reminded you how much he loved you and how brilliant you were. How lucky he was to have you in his life and as his spouse. He must have thought that all the social engagements were draining you. 

“I thank you for meeting with us, sir.” You stood from your seat at the head of the table, and everyone else leaped to their feet. It was still a little strange for so many people to hang on your every word. “I will bring your proposal to King Thranduil shortly.”

The man from Dale beamed and bowed low. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Most of the councilors filed out, but the nobleman scampered over to your side. Another low bow which you met with a nod.

“Long have I heard of the beauty of elves, Your Majesty…” A quirk in your eyebrow reminded him of his place, and he quickly caught himself. “The beauty of your halls, your craftsmanship and arts. It is an honor to see it all.” 

You gave him a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. You are too kind.”

He opened his mouth again for more flattery, but another voice interrupted. One from the doorway.

“Meleth nín?”

There stood your husband, dressed in robes blue as water in moonlight. A tall crown of silver branches. White stones imitated snow and ice amongst the delicate wire.

“Forgive me, sir,” he said, not even sparing the nobleman a glance, “but I must speak with my love now.”

The nobleman quickly excused himself, but hadn’t the chance to leave the room before Thranduil had your hands in his, and his lips on yours.

When he leaned in, you expected a chaste kiss against your cheek. Instead, one hand settled on the back of your neck, and the other placed your hand against his chest. Its opposite quickly mirrored and both of your hands held the fabric of his robe.

Your lips were shiny and your face warm by the time your husband pulled away from you. All the tension had melted from him, and he wasted no time in pressing his forehead against yours and letting his eyes flutter closed again. Once his breath came easy again, he gave you a chaste kiss on the nose.

“Forgive my forwardness, meleth nín,” he cooed in Sindarin, a gentle brush of his hand over your cheek.

“Nothing to forgive, husband.” A kiss to his nose. “How could I be upset at the notion that my husband, the most handsome of all who have lived, live now, and will ever life, desires me?”

A smile at your words, and another kiss on your forehead.

That evening, the two of you were entwined on the couch in your apartments. His head rested against your chest, against your heartbeat, and your fingers combed through his hair and rubbed his back.

A fire crackled in the hearth, and two half-drunk goblets of wine sat on the table at your elbow. A comfortable silence, broken after a good while by a single word.

“Beloved,” he asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“I have a confession. And need your advice.”

The hand formerly in his hair transferred to gently scratch the back of his neck and you briefly squeezed him close with the other arm. He adjusted so he could look up at your face a bit better.

“Of course, meleth nín. What is it?”

“When you were speaking to that man from Dale… I had a foolish thought. Jealousy. I’ve felt it a great deal over the past few weeks, thought I never acted upon it. Until today. I feel childish now, interrupting and publicly expressing physical affection in neither the right time nor the right place. I-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips. A startled noise from him, then he pulled himself further up the couch so you could kiss more passionately. He wasn’t entirely sure why you were so taken with the idea of him being so immature, but he was glad you weren’t disappointed.

A quick huff of breath as you pulled apart.

“I love you so much,” you panted, then breaking into giggles. His brows furrowed.

“What is so funny?”

You kissed his nose. “Because I have been feeling jealous the past few weeks. And I hadn’t a clue you were feeling similarly.”

“Why are you feeling jealous?”

“Because,” you flicked his chest, “you have an entourage of nobles, merchants, and ambassadors doting after you. And I was disappointed in myself for being so immature.”

“I do?”

A very unregal snort from you. “Meleth nín, for one so wise, you are so…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

More giggles from you. “Very well.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and his nose was tucked comfortably against your throat. The soothing warmth of his breath and the movement of his chest almost lulled you to sleep.

“I don’t think feeling jealousy is a bad thing,” you mused, fingers tracing the embroidery of his leisure dress. “It is a natural part of our behavior, to feel protective of things we love. And you weren’t rude or aggressive, for which I would have been unhappy. I’m glad you love me so much that somewhere in you,” a tap to the side of his head, as if to point the spot out, “a primal sliver encourages you to keep me all to yourself.”

A deep kiss from your husband. One hand behind your neck, cradling your head. The other crept between your back and the couch, fingers pressing into your flesh, pulling you into him as if any distance between you two still existed. You were smiling wide against his lips.

“How silly we both are,” he chuckled after leaning back for air.

Your fingers combed through his hair, finally settling to gently scratch the scalp around his ears.

“Indeed we are, my love.”

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2024 March 7

[badasgirl]

head over heels

bada lee x fem!reader

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a late night studio session turns into something more when bada finally decides it’s time to end whatever tension you both shared.

genre: friends (?) to kinda lovers, smut, slight angst if you kinda like squint, slight fluff

warnings: this specific work is 18+, so ageless blogs/underaged blogs who interact will be blocked, built up tension, reader is shorter than bada, no caps on purpose (booo ik terrible grammar).

word count: ~3.3k

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── ──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

smut warnings: slight dom!bada x sub!reader, making out, hickies, fingering, scissoring (?), messy lesbian sex, slightttt choking but barely

author’s note: this was not proofread and it’s my first smut in years so be easy on me plz. but yayy another req done, thank you to anon for this request!! reqs are still open, but please be patient 🎀.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── ──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

you and bada both dance and teach at the same dance studio, justjerk. you’ve known each other for a couple years now and since the day you’ve met her, there’s been an undeniable tension. you both would throw glances at each other when you passed each other throughout the studio, every time you talked there were flirtatious remarks hinting to both of you wanting the other, there were even lasting touches between the two of you when you did a collab class. this had gone on for so long it became natural for you both to teeter on the line of excessive flirting to more, so who was going to cross it first?

tonight you decided that you wanted to get some extra practice in before your class the following day, especially because it was your first time teaching a heels dance class. you were experienced in dancing in heels, but you had never taught it before. you just wanted everything to be perfect for the first time. however, you were not the only one getting in a late night practice session.

bada was finishing up her usual weekly late night practice and was about to leave the building, when she saw you. she saw you dancing through the studio door and god did you look so alluring. the way you danced had bada in a deep trance. she knew that you danced in heels, but she’s actually never seen it herself. after seeing how you moved plus all the years of built up tension, she knew exactly what she had to do.

you were finishing up one of your best runs of the section you were teaching when you heard the door open. you spot the tall girl you were infatuated with staring at you with her pretty eyes. you knew the effect you had on her, so you could understand how she would just burst into your practice with no good reason if all she did was just you dancing.

“bada, i forgot you were here tonight.” you started off as you began to take off your heels. “what could possibly bring you here?” you finished feigning innocence, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

bada scoffed at your question, you knew exactly why she came into that godforsaken studio. you, you were the reason. you knew that with one simple word bada would do anything you asked and well vice versa.

bada began walking towards you before cornering you against the mirrors. she easily towered over you and she used that to her advantage. she took one of her hands and placed it under your chin gently, lifting your head slightly to directly look her in the eyes.

“y/n, you know exactly why i’m here. i’m tired of these games and finally seeing the way you danced in heels tonight…it’s time we both be honest.” bada says lowly, not breaking eye contact with you.

you could tell her voice was filled with lust, that plus the fact her aura was so strong made you immediately so needy.

“honest about what bada?” you said looking up at her with doe eyes. as bada said, you knew exactly what she was talking about, yet you still wanted to keep the teasing going a bit longer.

“y/n don’t fucking play with me. i want you so bad and you know it. so tell me princess, do you want me?” the taller girl asked as she moved her hand from your chin to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

once you heard the nickname she gave you, you knew it was over. you whined, finally giving into bada. it didn’t take much for you to go weak over the girl. “yes bada i want you, i want you so fucking bad. please i-“ bada cut you off by kissing you softly. it was your first kiss together so she wanted to just taste your lips before going crazy.

“princess you don’t know how long i’ve waited for you to say that so i could kiss you” bada admitted with a smile plastered across her face. you were still recovering from the kiss as she began to place kisses along your jawline and neck, teasing you with her actions like you teased her with your words. between kisses, she whispered her confession to you.

“you know, it’s the way you move, that’s what gets me y/n” she started. “i’ve wanted you since the first week we started whatever stupid game we had going on.”

between your soft sounds you let out, you attempted to respond to bada without sounding too desperate. “me too…i wish we admitted it sooner” you said before pushing bada away from you softly. she was confused and a bit concerned at first, but before she could think too much, you pushed her to sit on the nearby cushioned bench. once she was sat down, you firstly went to lock the door to prevent any possible incidents. then, you straddled her bringing your bodies chest to chest. you wrapped your arms around her neck as she wrapped hers around your waist tightly, as if you were going to magically disappear.

you giggled as you watched bada blush slightly at you sitting on her lap, but that didn’t last for long because immediately you looked at her with lust filled eyes and said “now kiss me like you’ve wanted me for these past couple years baby”.

bada didn’t need to hear anything else as she smashed her lips into yours. her lips moved in sync with yours, she began to bite on your lips letting you know she wanted full access. you immediately complied and opened your mouth for her. bada didn’t even have to put up a fight for dominance with her tongue, you automatically let her win. as you were making out with her, she moved her hands up to be under your shirt, wanting to feel you. the girl then started to move them up and down your waist.

eventually you got very impatient and took your shirt off, then pulling on bada’s hoodie to let her know you wanted her to do the same. the urge to deny your request was so strong, but bada had wanted this for years. so for her own sanity, she listened to you, taking her hoodie off and tossing it with your shirt on the floor. now both of you were left in your sports bras and joggers. still sitting in her lap, you admired how beautiful bada was. her long hair flowing down her back and shoulders, her already plump lips looking raw from all of your kissing, the smirk that rested on her face, and not to mention you almost drowned in her pretty eyes. as you were admiring her, bada lifted you both off the bench and placed you with your back down on the floor. immediately after, she was hovering over you looking as if she was a hungry cheetah waiting to eat her prey.

“can i mark you princess? have to let everyone know who you belong to.” bada begged you breathlessly as she was so worked up, almost as much as you were. you nodded your head so quickly as you whined and reached up to place your hands on her back. you then wrapped your legs around her, trapping her body between yours.

bada giggled at your neediness while shaking her head “needy baby, i’ll give you want you want.” the tall girl then moved herself to have her lips gently graze your skin before immediately kissing and sucking at the skin on your neck, leaving marks. she thought you looked so pretty all marked up for her. bada loved listening to the whimpers you let out as she continued her attack on your neck.

eventually she stopped and smiled down at you, admiring her work. bada couldn’t hold herself back any longer. she reached for the waistband of your pants and looked at you to confirm everything was okay. you immediately nodded you head, helping her get you out of your joggers and panties in one single pull. you whined looking at bada because you felt so exposed while she still had her pants and shows on.

you pointed at her shoes and pants before saying “off, take them off.” bada instantly complied because she was so excited. she now was just in her sports bra like you. she was starstruck if you will, she saw how gorgeous you were everywhere, including your pussy. she adjusted herself to be in-front of you as she pushed your legs apart. she took one hand and pressed it down on your waist to prevent your hips from moving too much with what she was about to do to you. with her dominant hand, she started slowly dragging her fingers through your folds. you were glistening and it was all for her, she couldn’t be more proud.

“all this for me princess? how cute…” bada trailed off as she kept playing with your pussy, not putting her fingers all the way in, just slightly dipping into your hole with the tips and then pulling out.

you whined at her “stop teasing please, i need you baby so so bad”. you were on the verge of tearing up at this point because of how sensitive and needy bada made you. once again, only because of her own impatience, bada complied and was able to slip two fingers into your pulsating heat. she loved how warm you felt, how well you took her long fingers. you moaned out her name as she began fucking you at a steady pace with her fingers. she went from simple pumping in and out to scissoring her fingers to rubbing your clit while curling her fingers up to hit that spongy part of your pussy that made you see stars.

“that’s it y/n take my fingers” bada said between your moans and whimpers. “you’re doing so well for me yeah?” however, you could barely do anything but her cry out her name let alone keep your legs open.

bada immediately slowed her pace as you closed your legs. she took her free hand and pried your thighs open, pushing one down with it to prevent you from closing them again. she simply shook her head as you whined at the pace change.

“be my good girl and keep those legs open” the dominant girl demanded. you nodded your head quickly as you reached for her hand that was still slowly moving inside you to tell her to pick the pace back up.

“bada-ah please i’ll be good please don’t stop please” you begged for your life while staring into the girl’s eyes hoping she will see your sincerity.

“hmmm…” bada fake pondered to mess with you before immediately speeding back up and fucking her fingers back into you at an inhumane speed. you let out a loud moan that you prayed to god no one else would hear. all that was floating in your mind was “bada bada bada” on repeat. at the point bada had fucked you dumb with just her fingers.

you were getting close to your orgasm and bada could tell, but before that happened you screamed at her to stop. bada’s eyes immediately filled with worry as she thought she may have hurt you. you quickly sat yourself up slightly on your elbows before admitting something to her.

“i kinda always wanted you to ride me…” you trailed off breathlessly, voice hoarse from all the moaning. “i wanna feel your pussy on mine, wanna help you come too…” you said looking at her with puppy dog eyes. bada smirked at you before leaning over you to peck your lips. she just thought you were the cutest ever.

“if that’s what you want baby, let’s do it.” bada said excitedly as she got on-top of you, slotting your legs between each other’s. once your pussies both touched, you both let out soft whimpers. it surprised you to hear the cute noises that could leave the tall girl’s mouth, you loved it so much. you became even more infatuated with the beautiful girl who was on top of you.

once bada gripped onto your knees for stability and began moving, it was game over. not a single thought was occurring in your head, you were a babbling mess as bada rode you at a quick pace. she was so desperate to make you come for her as well as her own release. she moaned out your name as you moaned hers back. due to her fast pace and you already being so close to the edge because of her previous actions, you both were about to hit your highs. all you could hear in the studio were the sounds of wetness shared between the two of you and the heavenly sounds you both made.

“baby i’m so close, are you?” she questioned you between her whimpers and cries of your name. you couldn’t even form sentences anymore because of how stimulated you were. all you could do in response is nod your head and scream her name as tears fell down your face. bada was riding you so good that you began to cry out of pleasure.

as bada kept grinding, she took one hand and placed it on your neck, barely adding any pressure. but the simple action of having her hand on your neck immediately made you come. you cried out her name and let out the most beautiful moans she’s ever heard as you hit your peak. almost immediately after, bada’s orgasm hit and all she could do was let out soft whimpers and say your name.

after you both came down from your highs, you made eye contact and giggled. both of you were in a state of blissfulness neither of you ever wanted to leave. unfortunately though, the building was closing in half an hour. so, bada got up and got you both towels and wipes from her bag. once she was all cleaned up, she helped you get cleaned up as well.

once you both eventually got dressed after procrastinating, bada took your hand in hers and offered you a ride home since she drove and she knew you took the bus. she didn’t want you taking the bus this late at night to begin with. therefore, she made a mental note to herself to tell you later that she will from now on take you home if it’s late. you smiled as you agreed to let her give you a ride.

you both gathered your things, made sure the studio was clean, and then headed to bada’s car. once you got to her car, she put both of your bags in her trunk before opening the passenger door for your. you always loved how kind and considerate bada was, it was one of her most admirable traits. bada asked for your address and once she put it in her gps, you were off.

the ride was comfortable, her soft r&b playlist playing on the radio as you both just enjoyed each other’s presence. this honestly felt a little too natural, which scared both of you slightly. neither of you wanted to mess things up, but both of you also wondered if there could be more than just the past tension and now hook up. hell, both of you definitely wanted more. however, neither of you spoke about it and just chose to enjoy the moment at the very least just in case everything goes south after this.

eventually, you had reached your humble home. bada unlocked the door and popped the trunk from inside the car. she unbuckled herself to stretch over to the passenger seat to place a soft peck on your cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and admiring your beauty.

“i’ll stay here until you get inside to make sure you get in safe, text me y/n” bada says sweetly as you both couldn’t help but to smile at each other. you nodded your head in response before unbuckling yourself and getting out the car. you got your stuff from the trunk and headed towards your front door. you unlocked it and before you stepped in, you waved bye to bada while smiling the biggest you possibly could. bada couldn’t help but blush and giggle as she waved back. she felt like she was head over heels for you.

─────────────────────────────

three weeks later and it was the start of the filming for the first episode of street woman fighter season 2. you were asked by 1million to join their crew as you used to take a lot of classes from lia kim and she knew you were always a great dancer and a much needed assest to their team. you of course immediately agreed to join.

however you didn’t know you’d see bada lee herself pop up on the screen when you were asked your thoughts on each crew. you knew she lead the crew bebe, but quite honestly you didn’t pay attention to who else had been invited to the show until now. you and bada exchanged short texts since the night you spent together, but nothing that ever detailed you both would do that again or what you even were. to be honest, frustrated both of you, but both of you were so afraid of what the other would say.

when the crews all came down and sat together, you both couldn’t help but steal glances at each other. you both could tell the other wanted to say something. once it was time for battles, the first pair to go was redy vs. bada. of course you cheered for redy as she was your team member, but you couldn’t help but to also cheer for bada. though, you easily got jealous when she towered over redy like she towered over you three weeks ago and unfortunately for you it showed on your face. bada was able to see your jealousy as the battle continued and she smirked to herself, this made her even more cocky and eager to win. once it was revealed bada had a clean win, she smirked at you before turning to her team as they cheered and clapped for her. you noticed her little smirk before your team went to comfort redy and tell her she did well regardless of the result.

once all of the first round of battles were filmed, everyone had a 20 minute break. you went to go to your group’s personal room. but before you could get there, someone took you by your wrist and pulled you to the side into a more isolated area of the building. you quickly realized it was bada and a smile was plastered across your face.

“what do you need bada?” you asked looking up at her with that smile she loved to see. she couldn’t help but smile back before laughing. you were confused as to why she started laughing, but then she took your face in her hands and placed a soft peck on your lips.

bada kept your face in her hands as she said “i saw how jealous you got earlier princess, how are you jealous when technically we aren’t together?”

you pouted at her before rolling your eyes dramatically and saying “i know but, you’re still mine. you’re still my baby…” you trailed off with a blush adorning your face. bada couldn’t help but to shake her head and smile. she placed her hands on your waist and brought you close to her, she placed a soft kiss atop your head. bada looked into your eyes as she said what she had waited so long to say, she no longer could hold back her feelings.

“then let’s be together, let’s only look at each other. i’ll take you out after filming to really let everyone know who’s girl you are.”

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞! — 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆. ˒ ⊹

syn. bladie brainrot. he is the only man ever. pair. blade x f!reader cw. biting / fem reader / p in v / exhibitionism (?) (they bone in an empty alley) / just a lil thirst i'm so very normal and sane about bladie note. blade my beloved. hes in my brain always. i meant to stay under 300 words but then it got a little bit out of hand—regardless, i hope u enjoy ♡. i love blade RAHHHHHHH

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

blade is not gentle in the way he loves you.

he's rough around the edges, and perhaps a little too possessive for his own good. he likes to press your buttons, rile you up and push you until you break. it drives you mad.

you still can’t help but be drawn to him, though; his aloof manner is alluring and the glint in his eyes is dangerous. and oh, watching him in battle—the flex of his biceps, the almost graceful way in which he brutally takes his enemy down—you think find yourself entranced.

and when it’s all said and done, blade still has so much pent up energy left. it’s almost like clockwork: he takes down his final enemy and then is whisking you away once the other stellaron hunters take over the scene. you can see kafka and silverwolf share a knowing glance and your face grows warm in embarrassment.

blade was insatiable.

the moment he gets you alone he’s already mouthing at the sensitive skin of your neck, canines pressing against the flesh almost like a warning—a reminder that he could so very easily pierce with them—and you find yourself thinking that you wouldn’t even mind.

his tongue laves up your jugular, drawing a sweet moan from your lips as he sucks a hickey right on your pulse point. blade knows exactly what gets you going and he does not intend to waste a single second.

a breathy sigh of your name against your neck, rough hands trailing down your sides to stop at your hips and give them a squeeze, blade wants to devour you. he slides a hand under the fabric of your skirt, pushing your panties to the side to expertly rub circles on your sensitive clit. he drinks in the moans you let out in a kiss, a heated exchange that melts your core and sends shivers down your spine.

"blade," you whine. "more.. need more."

he hums, crimson eyes glinting in the darkness of the alleyway as he turns you around, pressing you against the cold wall. it wasn't uncommon to have blade take you wherever and whenever he wanted, especially when he grows pent up—like he was now.

you hear rustling, and in seconds you feel the fat head of his cock prodding at your soaked cunt. your lips fall open in a quiet gasp as you feel him stretch you out, the familiar ache of him splitting you open a welcome one. you hear him let out a harsh sigh behind you, his lips attaching to your neck once again.

and there he takes you. his thrusts are harsh and his grip on your hips is bruising, but you wouldn't have it any other way. he leaves dark bruises along your neck and collar, marks of his possession over you that the sight of alone sends him into a frenzy.

blade is not a gentle lover. but he is an attentive one—he doesn't stop until you're crying from the pleasure, making sure he and he alone is the only thing on your pretty little cock drunk mind.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[sextoyshowforherandforhim]

In this article, we provide you with an in-depth overview of our Sound Erotica story, BABE-Y SITTER. Prepare to immerse yourself in a steamy tale of unexpected romance and passion.

The Flames of Forbidden Desire

In the realm of unexpected desires, there lies a story that whispers tales of ageless romance and fiery encounters. This is a journey into the heart of passion, where age is but a number, and the flames of desire burn brightly against the norms.

A Glimpse into Forbidden Wishes

She had always carried a torch for him, a younger man whose presence sparked an unspoken allure. It was the kind of crush that simmered quietly, a secret yearning that danced on the edges of her reality. The age gap between them was noticeable, a societal boundary that often kept her feelings at bay. Yet, in his company, the years seemed to dissolve, leaving nothing but the magnetic pull of mutual attraction.

Unexpected Turns and Tempting Propositions

Their worlds collided in the most unexpected way, through a playful splash at the pool, igniting the first sparks of a connection that was destined to grow. It was he who took the bold step, inviting her out to dinner, a gesture that hinted at the possibility of something more. His physical allure was undeniable, a vision that captivated her senses and whispered promises of forbidden fruits.

[screamingcrows]

A Good Night's Sleep (part 2) - Zandik x Reader

Author's note: Feed this to an AI algorithm and I'm giving you Clostridium difficile. Also fuck this. This is nowhere close to what I wanted, so now I'm throwing it out so it won't leer at me from my wips. Maybe I'll come back once I get over my subconscious aversion to writing smut. 1.8k words Warnings/tags: dubcon, but not how you think, dry humping, blood (very little), fem reader, tigers have barbed penises, earlier somnophilia, panic, coercion, they're both something, suggestive, nsfw, zandik is stuck in his head Part 1 MINORS, AGELESS, AND BLANK BLOGS DNI - you will be blocked on sight

"Go back to sleep"

There was a slight crack his voice despite Zandik's best effort to keep it even. He had already moved away from you, shaking his hands in the air, trying desperately to rid himself of the unpleasant sensations.

His palms tingled, caressing the ghost of your skin with every frantic movement. For the third time in his life there was nothing in his mind. It made him want to rip his hair out.

You were turning around.

Something had to be done to make you stop, he wouldn't look at you. Moving in tandem, he rolled onto his other side. The front of his boxers was wet. An urge to scream scratched at the back of his throat.

"Zandik? I- I asked you a question…"

Her voice felt like syrup, flowing into his ears. Thick, disgusting, alluring. The light sniffles were filtered out by his mind, as was the way her breaths became increasingly erratic. It felt vile, being an insect writhing on silken strands was not something that suited him.

Zandik recoiled when your fingers dug into his shoulder, you shouldn't be reaching out for him. He shuffled further towards the other side of his mattress. A calm mind to handle this, that's what was needed, and nothing about you trying to turn him around was calming. Although his mind had cleared significantly, there was still a bothersome ache in his body.

"And I said go back to sleep," he'd snapped the words at you before he could stop it.

Everything felt awful when he pushed off to stand, blanket sliding into a pile. His back was towards you when he clambered out under the net, stomping barefoot away from your little camp. Under normal circumstances he would've scoffed at anyone doing the same, if was unsafe and a blatant overreaction.

That didn't matter. Not when he could feel the sticky substance sliding down his abdomen. How it made the fabric cling to his skin. Worst of all was the smell of his own release. Even while covering his mouth and nose with a hand, he could detect those musky notes.

It made him gag, crumpling into the underbrush as he fought back the urge to empty the contents of his stomach. Morbid curiosity bid his free hand to ghost over his crotch, body jerking when he felt the wet patch. Even worse was the fact that he was still-

He shook his head, uncaring that his head still swam and any jostling came with a risk. A clear mind, that was the least he could supply. Soft sounds of running water caught his attention. Perfect.

It was closer than he'd dared to hope. Half tumbling down a small hill before he found himself on his knees. The water had already been disturbed by his movements, if there were predators, stealth was no longer an option.

The least he could do was practice restraint this time. Being found half naked, mauled in a stream was far from the legacy he desired. After what felt like an eternity of bated breaths, eyes flickering around the dark forest, Zandik dared to relax a little. If a spinocrocodile or worse had been nearby, it would've already struck by now.

Cleaning himself took longer than what was reasonable, but the cool water helped to soothe the prickling under his skin. Thoughts of you were kept at bay by his shivering, and every tantalizing memory that did make it through those defenses was quickly decimated with a simple look at the consequences in his hands.

Failure was a ruthless teacher.

His hands remained submerged in water, fingertips slowly going numb. Slivers of moonlight crept through the canopies above. There was something twisted in how gently it caressed his features when his head tilted back. Why would it shine so lovingly on him now?

Perhaps playing your preordained part was the only way to be accepted by them.

Walking back turned out to be more difficult than expected, feet dragging along the ground being a particular nuisance when paired with less than optimal lighting conditions.

How was he going to explain that he was naked? The thought of stumbling into someone else on the short walk back briefly flashed through his head, but that was a thought he would not entertain. Not until faced with that reality at least. And what would he say when you undoubtedly kept pestering him with questions?

There was no doubt that he had to go back, you still had things to complete the following day. And returning to the Akademiya alone would be folly, not when everyone knew you'd left together.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, briefly flinching from the cold touch. How was he supposed to deny what you would've pieced together in an instant if you were properly awake. Convincing you it had been a figment of your own imagination was undoubtedly the best course of action. If only there were dreams to blame.

Conveniently, your back was turned towards the direction he emerged from. Carefully maneuvering back to his mat, he swiftly looked through the modest bag he'd brought, desperate for something to cover himself with after forsaking his clothes in the water. A waste, but one he couldn't bring himself to care about. Especially not when his focus was broken by you moving a little.

With rising adrenaline, he swiftly lay down, struggling to pull the blanket over himself without alerting you. Clean boxers gripped tightly in his hand, he waits with bated breath for what feels like an eternity, accompanied only by your soft breaths and the ringing in his ears.

When you hadn't moved for a while he took the chance to shuffle around a bit, intent on finally getting dressed again and forget this ordeal.

"You know," your soft voice caused his breath to hitch, the silence deafening before you continued, "you could've just asked me…"

He lay frozen, leg raised off the ground, boxers halfway on as he considered if acknowledging your statement would doom his set course of action. Before he could finish the thought, you continued, uncharacteristically certain with your words.

"I'm at least guessing it wasn't an accident?"

"I simply needed some air and got up. It's none of your concern," he found himself struggling to remain cordial.

Why couldn't you just leave him be?

He heard your little huff, could almost see the way you were no doubt leering at him, deep eyes narrowed in frustration. It was infuriating how quickly you flooded his mind again, the clear water of the stream having done nothing to wash away those urges.

"Why can't you just admit to it? I know that was cum on my back, Zandik. I'm not stupid."

"Good, then you'll have no trouble understanding when I tell you to stop bothering me and go back to sleep."

Admittedly, the words came out harsher than intended, but the longer you remained awake, the more difficult it would be to write all this off as a drowsy delusion.

When his eyes finally closed, everything finally began to feel better. The ordeal had even made a comfortable weariness settle behind his eyes.

It took mere minutes before his rest was disturbed by a weight against him. He turned onto his back, wanting nothing more than look at the stars and scream. Instead he was met with your face hovering above him.

You adjusted your body, straddling his hips as you straightened your back. His eyes were wide, following the lines of your body, seeing the light bruising that had bloomed from his touch. Shame burned in his blood, not from the action but the confrontation that he hadn't been nearly as restrained as he thought.

He took a deep breath, tensing when your hands pushed down on his shoulders.

"Get off"

"Why? Isn't this what you wanted?"

He had to grit his teeth when you rolled your hips, keenly aware of the blood gathering down there. It didn't help how warm you felt against him.

"I said, get off"

You shot him a glare, nails digging into his shoulders a little. He knew the look in your eyes. You were plotting something, and if he wasn't struggling to keep his focus away from your lips, he might have been able to prepare.

The relief that entered him when you leaned forward was palpable, trapped in the mindset that you would climb back down. Instead your warm tongue pressed against his pulse, dragging up the column of his neck. It made him groan, hands shooting up and grabbing your waist in an instant to stop your movements.

That was a mistake. Once more feeling your softness had his mind reeling, and he didn't miss how sighed in satisfaction when his grip tightened. Your breath wafted against his ear, close enough that he could almost feel your soft lips against his skin.

"But I want to do this with you"

Something in your voice made him shiver, stoking the embers of an unknown force. It made him briefly pause, and that was apparently all the opportunity you needed. He doesn't have time to react before you've pulled the blanket out from between your bodies.

You're practically laying atop him, the feeling not nearly as restrictive as feared. Eyes fluttering at the odd comfort it provided.

"How are you-" his voice falters, nothing but static in his mind for a moment. "How can you enjoy this?"

Bubbling laughter ringing through the darkness is all the answer he gets, swiftly accompanied by the press of lips against his collarbone. He writhed at the feeling, obtrusive and much too intimate. Would you rip out his throat if given the chance? Would he?

His fingers were sneaking under the hem of your shirt, discovering with dismay that the fabric had a moist spot at the very bottom… You hadn't changed. Repulsive.

He has to yank your hair for your lips leave the bruise they'd been carefully nurturing. Your expression reminds him of predator moments before it strikes, and he can only scold himself for not recognizing that of course the intensity he respected would bleed into every aspect of your being.

"Stay with me."

A groan is ripped from his throat when you bite down at the junction of his neck, one of your hands tugging at his hair. Tentatively, his fingers run along the curvature of your spine, feeling how you arched for him. Warmth spread through his body with every kiss and lick to the column of his neck, barely noticing how you were grinding against him.

It did feel good, he wasn't blind to how his cock throbbed from the stimuli. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of your back splitting open under his nails, nor were the whines spilling from your lips.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. love island’s heart rate challenge.

about. you’re the bombshell katsuki tells her not to worry about. i just wanted to hop on the love island!bakugou trend because i finally managed to catch up and watch some.

warnings. suggestive. minors & ageless blogs do not interact. implied cheating but not really bc it’s love island, british slang lol, lap dances, making out, saucy outfits & fem!reader.

the girl bakugou couples up with has been worried about you from the moment you first stepped into the villa.

and rightly so.

you’ve had almost every boy charmed since your arrival. kirishima made you lunch on your first day, todoroki and sero eagerly followed you for a chat by the pool to express their interest in you at the party hosted in your honour on night one. but you, you had your sights set on katsuki bakugou.

as a bombshell, you’d been given the power to choose any guy you wanted to take on a first date to the sandy shores of Majorca — with crystal clear waters, fresh fruits and champagne as your wingmen. and while you had initially picked bakugou for his sharp jaw line, mysterious wine red eyes and obviously the rest of his good looks (those abs looked like they were taken straight from a magazine) you were pleasantly surprised by how warm he was. his eye contact was strong, the raspy lilt to his voice was both alluring and calming and he seemed genuinely interested in you as a person and not because you were his type down on paper (though that was a bonus).

you laugh and smile about where you grew up, your favourite things and your red flags and by the end of the date — bakugou is feeding you fruit and helping you stand with a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. “s’only been a few days so i’m not completely closed off,” he mumbles a little too fast. “i’m open to getting to know you.”

you want to get to know him too.

you don’t tell the girls this when they crowd around you with blinged out bikinis and coconut scented sunscreen to ask you how your date went. you’d rather keep your cards close to your chest, but you tell them how nice bakugou is, how sweet he is. some of the girls can instantly tell how much he’s into you. bakugou’s match doesn’t say much.

“obviously, i don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” you expressed politely to the girls, your eyes doe eyed and bright, voice level and sweet. “i’ve come in at a difficult point, so i’ll just get to know everyone and let the boys know that the ball is in their court.” you don’t care if it makes you seem fake, but you don’t have any plans on leaving the island without bakugou on your arm.

the rest of the week is spent hopping between the boys, wearing all of your most sizzling swimsuits and pyjama sets — knowing that katsuki’s eyes are following you everywhere around the villa. he makes you iced coffees and scrambled egg with toast at breakfast times. he likes you and you like him and it’s causing problems with the girl the blonde is coupled up with.

on the fourth day, you get a text whilst in the pool — schmoozing with bakugou’s rival, deku. you announce it while he smooches up your ankle, making bakugou see flashes of red “islanders, it’s time to see how much of your heart truly belongs to the person you’ve coupled up with. tonight we’ll test that #heartratechallenge #peepthepulse!”

it’s then that you know exactly what to do. exactly how to get your man.

the producers supply you with a cute little number, one that you specifically request in bakugou’s favourite colour — the burnt orange lace of your corset and tiny shorts contrasting perfectly against your skin, accompanied by thigh high socks that squeeze around the plush flesh. your new best friend in the villa helps you smoke out your eyelids and touch up your makeup for the perfect look while she tells you that you look good enough to eat.

and you are. when it’s your turn to get those hearts racing — you stand before the boys at the fire pit who drink you in like a tall glass of water on simmering hot day and eat up your curves highlighted in your skimpy little outfit like men starved. you start with sero and make your way down the line, taking his finger into your mouth before kissing up his arm and right to his ear once you’re in his lap. todoroki digs his thumbs into your waist when you throw it back on him, kirishima let’s out a low whistle when you give him extra special treatment and a kiss on the neck (courtesy of being bakugou’s best friend), you let kaminari feel up and down your curves and nibble on your ear.

bakugou is rigid in his place by the time you reach his rival izuku — and you put on an extra show, pulling the man to a stand and grinding on him like nobody’s business. the boys holler and whoop and scream, practically sweating at the show you put on for them.

when you reach the blonde, you crawl into his lap tantalisingly slow, his rough hands instinctively coming up to cup your thighs — smooth over the skin as katsuki leans back in his seat and manspreads to make room for you.

“hi handsome,” you greet him with an innocent purr, running your hands up to the back of his neck to toy with his baby hairs.

you’re so close to him that he can feel your heat spread through his soul and burn him from the inside out — replacing any memory of the girl that he’s coupled up with. “hi gorgeous, what took ya so long?”

“i wanted to save the best for last.”

bakugou’s cheeks flood with a red that rivals his eyes when you grind down into him, calculatedly placing your lips inches away from his thumping pulse point. you grab at his hair and he grabs at you, practically groping one another as you ghost over his lips, tease him with the prospect of a kiss. he can hear his own heart thundering through his ears, the blood rushing to his head (and between his legs) making him too dizzy to even think. saliva pools in bakugou’s mouth as you make a mess of him without even trying, rolling yourself in his lap, shaking your ass against him, whispering filthy shit into his ear even though the mics can pick it up.

to wrap it up, when you slide off of katsuki, you pretend to drop something — standing up sensually to give him a little treat. his eyes clearly glued to your cute behind.

by the time your turn is over, katsuki knows that he’s done for. he wants you, and the way your vanilla perfume lingers on his sun licked skin. he’s in a daze for the rest of the game and doesn’t even notice the way his girl’s face twists at the sight of your lipstick prints all over him.

neither of you can hide your faces when deku begrudgingly announces “the girl that raised bakugou’s heart rate the most was….” and your name follows suit. you offer up your most winning smile, giving the blonde those “fuck me eyes.” that really get him going from across the fire pit and he can’t help but smirk back.

the boys clap for him but the girl he’s coupled up with gives you a look that could kill.

before it all comes to head, katsuki approaches you and your best friend by the bar — hands tucked into his lose cargo pants, silver dog tags around his neck glinting around his thick neck as he juts his head in the direction of the sunbed’s.

“can i pull you for a quick chat?” he grunts and you grin, offering him your hand despite the stares from the other islanders. you want katsuki bad, so you’ll be as controversial as you want — no matter who’s coupled up with who. “obviously, i like you, a lot.” he starts, helping you sit down, hand around your wrist and eyes full of admiration.

since you’ve come into the villa all he can think about is you, your laugh and your smile. to say his head was turned would be an understatement. katsuki bakugou is crushing hard on you.

“i think you can tell, ‘specially from how that challenge went.” it’s hard for him to open up like this and admit it to you, but your connection goes beyond your beauty and bakugou feels himself gravitating towards you more than his old match. he doesn’t want to pass this up, maybe lose you to izuku. “i said i was open, but i think… if you picked me. i’d be completely closed off for you. i want you like that. if you’d want me too.”

he fiddles with your hands nervously as you sit opposite him, all dolled up with shiny eyes and glossy lips under the evening sky. you think katsuki couldn’t get any cuter which only solidifies your choice.

“i’ve only ever wanted you since i came here, katsuki. i feel like we get each other,” inching forward until you’re a breath’s width apart, you tenderly brush a blonde lock away from his pretty face. “i wanna be yours just as much as you wanna be mine.” you add, quietly.

and you don’t care if your next move makes you shady or betrays anyone’s trust — but you came into the villa looking for love and you think you’ve genuinely found it within katsuki. so you lean forward, pressing your lips gently against his and squeak in surprise when bakugou reciprocates almost instantaneously. he cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue past the boundaries of your soft lips to tangle with your own.

“your lip gloss tastes like shit.” bakugou pulls away with a grumble, but his face breaks out into a wide and accomplished grin. “c’mere, kiss me again.”

“m’kay,” you tilt your head towards him, your own expression light with laughter, and place your hand over the one that cups your cheek. “i like kissing you.”

“i like kissing you too.”

smiling again, you squish bakugou’s cheeks. “so does this mean you’re picking me at the next re-coupling?”

katsuki nods dumbly, wanting nothing more to pull you into his lap. he knows they’ll be drama tonight, dealing with the last girl, his sleeping arrangements and yours — but he doesn’t care. he just wants to share this moment with you.

“i’ll pick you a thousand times over. at this re-coupling and every single fuckin’ one after.” katsuki reaffirms, knowing that he’s absolutely fucked up and in love.

and that’s enough for you to kiss him all over again.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[haveyouanytime]

hi there! can i request college!au with vincent renzi, in which he is law professor and he has this responsable and smart student (legal age ofc) who steals his attention? can it have dacryphilia too?, if you’re comfortable writing that 😅 please

professor + dacryphilia with vincent renzi | minors + ageless blogs dni! cw: cunnilingus, teacher-student relationship (reader is 18+, uni student), crying = dacryphilia, bit of plot

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

You were an all-star student. You were on top of everything, steadily making a name for yourself as a reliable, outstanding student and future lawyer. Some of your peers liked to call you Elle Woods, majorly for your beauty being a major asset of yours. But part of your exceeding academics was dedicating time to go to your professor’s office hours. 

Some more so than others. 

Mr. Renzi was the professor for your criminal justice course, and you had expected to stop by his office once in a while to have him look over your essay and work to see what you can improve on. 

What you hadn’t expected was for him to be so… beautiful. 

The first time you saw him in class, you forgot to take notes. You simply watched him as he taught, his intelligence was so seductive, and it just so happened to be paired with a voice like velvet and eyes that made your heart speed up when they met yours. 

Unbeknownst to you, Vincent felt the same. Ever since that alluring first day of you simply watching him in your second-row seat, he always found his gaze gravitating towards you as your pen scratched along your paper, as you chewed gum, sipped from your water bottle, tucked your hair behind your ear, or made eye contact with him. 

You went and visited him the first time about two weeks into the semester, wanting him to look over your first essay. There was an undeniable spark, but you simply brushed it off as a mutual educational acknowledgment. Anything you could do to not linger much on how much the simple brush of his hand against yours send electricity through your body.

Vincent once was going to ask you if you wanted to join him on his walk to his office, but that was the first time he saw him. You walked out of class, beelining with a large smile towards the open arms of some boy. Your laugh was bubbly and bright as he kissed your cheek, calling out his name. When his lips met yours, Vincent simply turned and walked away, cursing himself for not thinking about how obviously you wouldn’t be single-- you were pretty, smart, kind, and many more qualities that would have a line of boys waiting for a chance. He ran his fingers through his hair, internally kicking himself for letting himself get so unprofessional and daydreaming of his younger student, for being one of the men in line for a chance. 

Well into the semester and after plenty of visits, you were more than a familiar face in Vincent’s office, instead one he looked forward to seeing. The visits had long stemmed past the looking over essays and now were small talking sessions between you and your professor. 

This particular day, Vincent had you in his office, noticing how frazzled you seemed. 

“You have a lot on your plate?” He asked, rolling his dress shirt’s sleeves up to his elbows. His suit jacket was hanging from the back of his seat, the comfort of his office and your presence giving him the leisure of being a little less work-appropriate with his attire. 

You softly laugh, joking through the truth of your overwhelming schedule and workload, “More like it’s flowing off the table.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Vincent nodded, his brows furrowing as he gave a small chuckle to your light joke. “Especially since I’m partly the cause of that.” 

“No, no, I love your class, and being here with you is like a dream. It’s an escape.” You softly smile, shaking your head. “I have no need to mourn or worry when I’m here.” 

His ears perked at your word choice. You were meticulous, so the choice in wording wasn’t a simple passing phrase. “Mourn? What is there to mourn?” 

You hesitate, quietly sighing as you run your fingers through your hair. “My boyfriend broke up with me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear.” He cooed, 

Saying it aloud seemed to make you think of all the things you had to handle at once-- two different final group presentations, four different essays, processing your breakup, feeding yourself, feeding your cat, working part-time, endless research… 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt warm tears land on your hands that rested atop your lap. You let out a shaky breath, more tears falling before you could compose yourself. A quiet whimper slipped out, and you hid your face in your hands as you couldn’t help but softly sob.

“Shh, shh, mon biquet.” He shushed, standing from his desk and walking over to your seat. He knelt in front of you, reaching to move your hands away from your face and wipe away your tears with his thumbs. He whispered, his brows furrowing at the sight of you crying in front of him. “My lamb.” 

He watched as the warm tears slipped from your eyes, his hands cupping your face as your gentle eyes met his. Putain, he thought, you’re even pretty when you cry. A soft noise slipped past your lips as you softly cried, sending an electric jolt through Vincent. The tears on his face made him want to comfort you, but also imagine how those noises would sound if you were underneath him. Would your soft whimpers sound the same as he felt the warmth of your skin? Would your tears encourage him to draw more and more pleasure from your body? He felt his heart race as he leaned in, kissing the teardrops that were caught on the apples of your cheeks. 

Your breath hitched, unknowingly sending more of the electric feelings through Vincent’s bloodstream. The pecks on your cheek were only a whiff, but you were like a drug he was already fixed on. 

“Shh, mon biquet,” He whispered, his kisses traveling from the tears on the apples of your cheeks down to your jawline. “Let me make you feel better.” 

“Professor…” You whispered, your tears still rolling as your heart began to race. You instinctively rested your hands on his chest, your hands trembling at the immoral act occurring between you and your professor. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to,” He softly spoke, pulling away and placing his hands over yours that rested atop his chest. His eyes met yours as his brows furrowed slightly, a moment of vulnerability from your usually stoic professor. You held his livelihood in your gentle hands-- both occupationally, but also just as a man kneeling before a woman.  

“Please,” You whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as your lip trembles, “Make me feel better.” 

He couldn’t help but groan at your words, leaning in and connecting his lips to yours. He kissed you in a way that made you dizzy, a way no boy your age would be able to accomplish. It was feverish and hot, but also gentle and caring. He pulled away to lead you to your feet, your soft lips ghosting over his as you leaned in, wanting more of his unmatched kisses. 

He smiled, giving you more kisses as he held onto your hips, pushing away his papers as he lead you to sit atop his desk. You softly gasp into his mouth, registering that he’s slowly pushing up your skirt. You blush as he kisses along your jawline, remembering you didn’t wear undershorts today, settling on just black underwear. 

Vincent didn’t mind, adjusting you so you sat on the desk so he could pull your underwear down your legs. He settled between your legs, kissing to the top of your blouse before kneeling down to begin kissing down your pubic bone. You blushed and bit your bottom lip, trying not to squeeze your thighs shut out of embarrassment and smother your handsome criminal justice professor. 

He settled as he finally reached your cunt, his fingers spreading you open to see the wetness that had formed just from his kisses. He smirked to himself, leaning in and placing soft kisses onto your clit. Just a little stimulation like that, and he heard soft moans of pleasure from above. They were a little muffled, and he looked up to see you hiding your mouth behind your hand. 

Taking it as a challenge, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, fully allowing himself to dwell in your warm cunt and give you enough pleasure to be unable to hide your noises. 

His age showed in his experience, bringing you to your orgasm after barely two minutes into the affair. “Proff- oh, God-- Professor…!” You gasped, feeling your climax forming in your abdomen. 

“Let it happen, my lamb.” He murmured against your clit, coaxing you even closer. Just as you cried out, practically biting down onto your hand to try and stay quiet, he slipped two of his fingers into your warmth. You couldn’t silence the moan that slipped past your lips, your legs pressing lightly against his head as the overstimulation made the pleasure reach a peak in your body. 

You quickly learned, however, Vincent was not a one-and-done type of man. He kept you on that high as long as he could, even going as far to push the peak higher and higher as he coaxed a few more orgasms out of you, all while chuckling and murmuring praises against your skin. Your lip trembled as your legs tensed on either side of his head, your breath shaky as the overstimulation brought back the warm tears in your eyes. You mewled, tugging at his hair to wordlessly plead with him, sniffling as a few warm tears slipped from your eyes. 

“Just like that, mon biquet,” He groaned, his hands tightening their hold on your soft thighs as he watched you cry, “One more, I promise.” 

You whimpered and moaned as he lead you towards another orgasm, this one being the farthest you’d traveled in terms of pleasure. His fingers worked at massaging your walls, his mouth suckling and placing kitten licks onto your clit. He worked you farther and farther until he felt the familiar tense around his fingers, your will giving up as your thighs trapped him between the plush muscles. 

You writhed against the desk as you clenched your thighs together, his promise a stretch of truth as he worked you through your last climax. Your thighs relaxed and he gently pulled away, both of you panting as the room was hot with sex and rounds of overstimulation. 

“Thank you, professor.” You softly spoke, feeling shy as you pushed down your skirt to hide your exposed pussy. “I… I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I should thank you.” He grinned, standing from where he knelt between your legs. He straightened his clothes, trying to be subtle in the way he fixed his erection. He wiped his mouth with his hand, “I, er… haven’t had a meal like that in a while.” 

You shyly smiled, standing from the desk and placing a quick peck onto his cheek. He grinned, his hands moving to hold your waist again. “We should plan another… ahem, one-on-one tutoring session again. Come again on Thursday, the same time, if you would like another lesson.” 

“Of course, professor.” You smiled, blushing at the idea of another sexual endeavor with your handsome criminal justice professor. 

“Please, call me Vincent.” He grinned, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the little black fabric, handing you back your underwear. “Anything for my best student.”

[lenaariewrld]

C.16 — are u mad at me (w) *

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WARNING !! this chapter contains explicit content/smut, so minors/ageless blogs PLEASE DNI!! the explicit parts will be marked with *** so anyone who wishes to avoid that can skip it and it won't affect your understanding of the story! other than that, pls enjoy the unedited, very tame filth of this^^

| WC: 6.0k

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

You, Ganyu, and Keqing were already in the studio when Childe came in with his little grocery haul, a binder tucked in his arms too. He’d taken to bringing physical copies of the script for himself, as well as the cd’s he burned the playlists onto. When he closes the door behind him with a little kick, the conversation the three of you were indulged in came to a temporary halt. You leaned back in your chair and greet him by holding out your hand, wordlessly asking for the treats.

He rolls his eyes, handing over the plastic baggie he was carrying. “Thanks!” You chirp happily, setting the bag on the little table once it was passed to your hands. You dig around, handing Keqing her snack and taking out your own things. You also set Childe’s snacks in front of the empty seat for him. He sets your drink down in front of you and takes his seat.

The whole exchange is mostly wordless and takes only a few seconds before the conversation kicks back in. Keqing gets to business immediately, any of the light-hearted ribbing or mindless chatter traded for her notes about the recording and letting you guys know the mics were extra sensitive that day and to be mindful of your volume. You nod along, dragging your swivel chair behind you as she quickly ushers you and Childe into the booth.

For the third recording in a row, you and Childe work perfectly well together, flowing through the conversations and jokes rather easily. Only, you find yourself getting distracted on occasion. You’re staring. Drifting off when you’re not speaking. Your eyes even, as if on instinct, fall on Childe, watching the way he queues up songs halfway through your sentences, ready to transition into them. Or the way he adjusts himself in his seat while he’s speaking. And you notice how relaxed he looks, a lot more than in the past couple of episodes. Or maybe you’re just now noticing that fact.

And, fuck, he looks good. He’s just wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, a casual enough outfit that really doesn’t let you see much at all and would, in fact, look messy on other people. But it’s fitted enough for him. 

He rolls up his sleeves halfway through or so, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift to his arms, the way his muscles flex as he moves to mess with the buttons and knobs on the desk–adjusting certain things with the mix as it plays –and the way his jaw clenches whenever he swallows a laugh, his adam’s apple bobbing as he settles on chuckling at your half-thought retort to whatever he just said. You notice the way his fingers drum on his thigh when he’s leaning back in his own chair, turning back and forth while you do your own thing.

You can’t help but feel like a nun being drawn to sin. The shame of staring and yet the enticing allure of it turning over in your stomach until it’s sufficiently tangled in little knots.

And maybe it’s because you haven’t gotten properly laid in months, your schedule far too busy once school started for you to have many flings (though, truth be told, you weren’t into the appeal of hookups, really. Only once or twice when you were really desperate but not now). Maybe that’s why your mind keeps being fixated on him and every little habit of his.

Childe catches your eyes only once and you immediately turn away, keeping your eyes squarely on the script or the mic directly in front of you as you keep recording. Your shirt feels too warm on your skin all of a sudden.

Shake it off, ignore it.

You chastise yourself internally. But everytime you blink, your mind goes back to that night at the club. That night a week ago, when you’d lost any good sense still in your head and have yet to regain. Now it was all foggy and grey, the exact memories of what happened a blur, but you remember the feeling and you remember the way your chest felt like a percussionist’s wet dream with how crazy your heart had been racing. You were sure there was some fucked up part of your brain that was still hungover, that had to be the only reason you were still like this.

It takes a grueling amount of time, but finally the recording finishes and Ganyu and Keqing begin to edit over the audio and whatnot, working together once again to put the finished product together before any of y’all call it a night. You sigh and lean your elbows against the edge of the desk, careful not to jostle any of the equipment too badly. Despite how long you’ve spent in this little studio, you weren’t entirely sure how delicate everything was. You barely register the ginger man beside you getting up.

“You… seemed a little out of it,” Childe notices when he comes back, slumping back into his seat with his drink in hand. He balances it on his knee between drinks.

“Did I?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye.

Even casually like this, he’s managed to look attractive. He hasn’t styled his hair at all like he would during the day for classes or outings, and he’s not wearing any makeup like he does on stage, allowing you to see the many freckles dotting his skin from his face down his neck and disappearing behind the navy blue fabric of his hoodie. “I dunno,” He shrugs, taking another sip from his drink before setting the cup on the floor, out of the way. “I mean, you kept spacing out and weren’t as… sharp as you usually are,” He explains.

He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket, his elbows on the arm rests. “Maybe I’m wrong, though,” He shrugs once again.

You simply hum in response.

It falls silent, the two of you watching the other women as they work away. Two minutes turns to ten and then to twenty, and eventually your brain starts to drift elsewhere. Again, it goes back to that night. Recalling the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours, your skin warm and alive. The way he so desperately held onto you, a hold that seemed like he didn’t want to let go either.

“Finished,” Keqing’s voice jostles you out of your daydream as she announces herself, standing up. You perk up, scooting your chair forward. She shuts off her computer and slides it into its case in her backpack. “I have to go help one of the professors I’m TA’ing for grade papers, so I can’t help shut everything down… Can you guys handle it?” She looks between you and Childe, as if questioning if she can trust the two of you to be left alone without burning the place down. You can’t entirely fault her for her hesitance.

“Oh yeah! Me and Y/n can do it..” Childe assures. He looks at Ganyu when she opens her mouth to speak. “I mean, you probably need your rest too, right? And I think we’ll be fine by ourselves for one night,” He adds. Your eyes widen at his confidence, looking over at him like a deer caught in headlights. Collecting yourself a second later, you nod along. He was just being helpful, he wasn’t insinuating anything. Surely.

Ganyu agrees to head home and try to rest with your assurances, packing up her things and giving you a quick hug. You wish her a goodnight and close the door behind her. Now, you find yourself alone with Childe for the second time in that recording studio.

You’re quiet as you and Childe begin to pack everything up, finding your tasks and rhythm to do things separately. On occasion, you end up reaching for the same cable and you jump back immediately at the contact, refusing to meet his eyes as you turn to do something else. By the eighth occurrence of that happening, the man huffs quietly.

“Y/n, are you mad at me or something?” He asks.

“What? No,” You shake your head, flashing a short placating smile before returning to the cable you were wrapping up. Ever since the two of you started to get along more, Childe seemed to understand your tells and how to read your behavior quickly. It’s terrifying to you that he learned you so well and so fast.

“Then..” He presses his lips together, shuffling his chair closer to yours. “What’s up with you,” He pushes, gently taking the cables from your hands. You lean back dramatically in your chair, letting out a long sigh. Your mind runs through multiple ideas of how you could play off why you’re being out of character. Bad days, overwhelming classwork, or even just being exhausted don’t seem to perfectly dismiss it. You sigh again.

“It’s stupid,”

“Eh, everything sort of is. Doesn’t mean it’s bad,” He replies calmly, leaning down in his chair and tucking the cables under the desk securely. You watch him for a second.

What’s the worst that could happen..?

“The other night,” You begin and he pauses. You know he knows what you’re talking about, remembering the same details you do (or more, since he seems to hold his liquor far better than you). “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Are you uncomfortable with me now because of it? I promise I’m not thinking something of it, and I won’t try anything,”

Childe is quick to assure you and you snort in amusement, running your hand over your face. This situation was absurd. This conversation was absurd! And his responses seemed to be the cherry on top of this cake of weirdness and awkward tension. You fidget with the strings of your cutoff shorts, the hem tangled and messy where you’d distressed it haphazardly.

“No,” You finally admit, dropping your hands and running them over your bare legs. He turns to you then, his brows raised. He says nothing, allowing you to continue, but his interest is piqued. “I mean…” Again, your fingers run over your thighs, your palms massaging away the nerves starting to bubble up. At least, you were attempting to do that. “It’s just been on my mind lately because… it’s…been a while,” You finally manage to say it, throwing all caution to the wind. “Since I was kissed like that,” You add when he continues to stare at you wordlessly.

He blinks. “‘Kissed like that’?” He parrots, sitting up properly in his chair again. He continues to stare at your expression, the rising blush forming on your cheeks and down your neck, the fidgeting of your hands, the way your eyes dart around but not meeting his gaze. When it finally clicks a second later, his face lights up and he looks at you with a simpering smile. “You’re horny, aren’t you?”

You squawk indignantly at his brazen words, swatting at his arm. “Don’t fucking say it like that!” You chastise, fighting the urge to smile. Ridiculous. Childe doesn’t take your faux annoyance seriously, laughing and throwing his head back, fully and completely amused by the turn the conversation took. You roll your eyes, chuckling alongside him.

“I won’t judge,” He says when he finally calms down. “It’s been a hot minute for me too.. It was nice to know I wasn’t… rusty,” He grimaces as he says that last word, scratching the side of his neck almost awkwardly. You chuckle again, nodding in understanding. At least you both seem to be in a similar boat and you’re not a freak for thinking about something like that (not that you would be in normal circumstances, but it feels much deeper knowing the history you two share). The air in the room seems to drop, growing thick in the after of your shared confessions, the two of you silent in contemplation.

Childe stares off at the wall and you once again fidget with your shorts.

What if… 

You’re definitely not drunk, and you’re definitely not under any high-running emotions when the idea comes to you, but it still pops in your head and you still pause as you consider it. Truthfully, you’re not sure what boldness draws you to initiate this time, and you have no excuse other than, perhaps, pure curiosity (that’s gotta be it!). You lean forward in your chair, catching his attention when you grab the arm rest of his chair and pull yourself a little closer, your knees bumping against his.

He looks at you, looks at the hand on his arm rest, and then you again.

You swallow quickly, your stomach tangling itself all up again as you pluck up the courage to speak your mind “Would you… want to test it again?” You ask. Childe’s brows jump up on his forehead as he stares at you incredulously, watching your face. He’s checking your expression, you realise, looking for any hints that you might be teasing him or a sign of mischief. Anything that said you were playing a sick joke on him for what he’d admitted to you.

When you don’t falter or crack a joke, though it takes everything in you to not back down and backtrack in the face of his silence, he nods. It’s almost shy, unsure. He sits up in his chair and scoots forward to meet you halfway. The corners of your mouth fight to pull into a smile, his little mannerisms striking something in your chest. There’s at least three separate times you can rescind your question, but it all goes out the window as he presses his lips to yours.

His kiss is soft this time, unlike the messy fire that the first kiss had been. It ignites you all the same and you kiss him back, insistent against his lips. His reservations seem to melt at your eagerness, at the way you don’t hesitate to tangle your fingers in the curls of his hair, pulling him in deeper.

And then it’s there again, the need and the heady feeling clouding your good decision making when you taste his tongue, whatever slushie he’d been drinking fruity and intoxicating like any alcohol. Maybe even more so. He kisses you like you’re the air he breathes, holding onto the back of your neck, and he leans forward to hover over you. The angle is awkward and would hurt your neck if you gave a shit, but neither of you care at that time, too absorbed in this.

Your lungs scream for air, and he’s sure he’d gladly asphyxiate on your kiss, but you pull him away, tugging at his hair. A low noise rumbles in his throat, his eyes opening just enough to take you in. The sheen of your lips, the string of saliva on your tongues, the flush of your face and the heave of his chest as he takes in the oxygen he unfortunately needs. Childe looks over your face and it’s clear that this isn’t nearly enough. It’s like having a taste of a sweet dessert and expecting either of you to not want more bites.

***

So he dives back in when you wordlessly nod, kissing you breathless once more. Your body arched towards him, a shiver running down your spine as one of his hands slid over your body, down your sides and legs. He held your hips, his lips on your jaw. “Look at you, so clingy all of a sudden..” His voice was thick, lower as he whispered in your ear, a mocking tone in his words that made your skin run hotter than before.

“Childe,” You moan and sigh his name all at once, your nails scratching against his scalp deliciously. It’s exhilarating, a thrill that sets your nerves alight at every touch and motion from him. Your head is starting to float as he continues his attack against your skin, his teeth sending sparks as he nips at your neck.

And he’s strong, dammit, annoyingly so as his hands continue to hold your hips down, restricting the way you want to roll against his body, desperate for friction– for more.

“Childe, please,” He’s ruthless as his kisses trail further down, and he chuckles dryly.

“Already begging?” He cocks his head to the side.

You sneer a little bit at his cocky attitude, tugging harshly at his hair. That elicits another noise from the man, a soft whine as he grabs your waist tighter, almost a bruising touch. Your stomach burns. “Childe, I’m not asking again, give me more,” Your voice is quiet but nonetheless demanding, and Childe relents his teasing. He leans back, situating himself in his chair again and pulling you with him. Obediently, you slide from your chair onto his lap, sighing pleasantly as his fingers trail down your sides and onto your thighs. He glances at you through his lashes, holding you up slightly.

He’s checking for permission, but when you nod, he only smiles in coy innocence. “I don’t speak head shakes, baby,” His fingers massage the fat of your thighs, toying just at the hem of your shorts, dangerously close to where you need him.

With an impatient whine, you lift your hips against his hands. “Fuck me, please,” You concede. Childe hums appreciatively, pulling your knees apart and placing a chaste kiss against your shoulder.

“Good job,” He coos sweetly. The man wastes no time in unbuttoning your shorts and untucking your shirt. He kisses messily at your neck as he pulls the denim down your legs, aiding you in the movement to lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them to the side. As soon as the cool air hits you, you shiver, your hands sliding from his hair to hold yourself up by his shoulders.

His eyes were glued to you, dark and hungry.

“Aren’t you so pretty?” He says as his hands toy at the edge of your panties. “I’d have done this sooner if I knew how cute you looked all flushed like this.” He teases lightly, smiling.

He doesn’t let you respond before he’s moved on to kissing under your jaw. Your heart jumps at his words, kickstarting a fast pace in your chest. He seems to know this, his eyes glancing at your face and the blush that spreads across your face. Your body temperature raises a million more degrees at the quirk of his brows. And all he’s done is kiss you. His breath is hot, burning you alive.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as his lips stall against your skin, one of his hands dipping between your thighs, experimentally brushing over your clothed cunt. A soft moan escapes you as he circles his finger over your clit, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Fuck,” You grip at the fabric of his hood, grinding on his palm.

“Feels good?” The man laughs, his smile still curled on his lips when you nod a little too eager. His free hand takes hold of your chin, gentle but firm as he pulls you into a kiss. You melt against him, whining as he continues his ministrations over the thin cotton. Childe uses your reactions as a map, his quick learning apparently applicable here as well.

If you weren’t lost in the stimulation he was providing, you might feel embarrassed. Your hips buck every now and then, your mouth hanging open in pants and gasps, noises that Childe happily drinks up, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. You were thankful for how long the recording had run that night, assured that no one else was on this floor and could possibly hear your noises through all of the walls separating the two of you from the hallway.

Your head is stuffed with cotton clouds, your body moving on instinct, when the ginger stills his hand against your clit, pressing harshly on the bundle of nerves. “Ahf–what the fuck,” Your forehead rests against his, stuttering your hips as your incoming orgasm comes to a screeching halt. Your breaths intermingle as he smiles, smoothing his hand over the back of your head.

“Calm down, baby,” Childe coos in a mockingly sweet tone, laughing as you pinch his bicep in retaliation. For all the teasing he’s doing, you can tell he’s just as affected as you, his eyes lidded and his ears a bright red.

“You’re the worst,” The venom in your voice is gone. You know you don’t actually mean it. You wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t. The man hums, amused by your attitude.

“‘M sure I am,” He groans against your mouth, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear. The cotton stretches around your thighs, but you’re too buzzed by his proximity to fully discard them, and he’s too eager to feel you. Childe is still kissing you senseless, your mouth hanging open as he drags his fingers through the slick of your folds, toying with your clit again before sinking two fingers inside you.

You reward him with a whine, your fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his hoodie. And, god, it’s addicting. The way he reacts to your body, shuddering and swallowing your quiet moans, like getting you off is his only life’s goal.

You understand why so many girls feel enraptured with him.

Your hips roll against his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. “Oh fuck,” Your blood is pumping even quicker, a loud drum in your ears as you chase the high. He’s stretching you so well, thrusting at a steady pace while you ride his hand like it’s the last time you’ll ever experience this kind of pleasure. It might as well be, the way you’re on fire for him. The way his lips latch onto the juncture of your neck and shoulders, whispering praises. His thumb works in tandem with his fingers to circle your clit messily, his other hand tight on your waist, guiding your rhythm or palming your chest over the thin shirt.

“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, yes–Childe,” You blabber mindlessly, high and floating. This burning, this tension, this tightrope you’ve both been walking converges all into this moment, and you’re suddenly forgetting anything prior to this. It’s just you and Childe as he fucks you with his fingers, leaving bites and hot kisses all over your body.

He groans against your chest, feeling the way you tighten around him, you’re body picking up pace as your hips bounce erratically on his fingers. You’re chasing your high, too heady to care how eager or desperate you look.

You don’t care.

You want this, you want him.

“Childe, Childe, Childe, need to cum–” You moan and hold tighter onto his shoulders, white knuckling. Your thighs are burning, and your stomach feels tight with your oncoming orgasm, a tightening precipice edging closer with every curl of his index and middle finger. He nods, wordlessly focusing his efforts on fucking you faster, and deeper, massaging your clit.

Your body is buzzing with the stimulation. You fail to form full words, babbling mindlessly between pants and whines and other ungodly noises. It falls from your lips freely, and Childe soaks it all in like it’s his favorite song.

Who fucking knew how irresistable you sounded like this?

He holds your hips even tighter the closer you get, helping you to move your hips. And it crashes over you quick and dirty, white-hot electric as the feeling courses through your veins. It’s everything and it’s better than your fantasies could ever give you, and in an instant it’s crashing through your entire system, washing over you and fizzling out almost as quickly as it came. Your body is buzzing, whirring as you whine pathetically, still riding his fingers as he rides you through the motions.

Childe kisses your neck as you come down, your head falling back. Your chest heaves, your fingers flexing in his hoodie once again. “Such a good girl, and you look so pretty,” He compliments in a sweet voice, dripping with honey as he helps you come back down.

It isn’t until your breathing has returned semi-normal again that he finally pulls his fingers out, his hand stroking your jaw. “You did so good for me, hm?” He strokes your chin with his thumb, sliding up to your bottom lips. Glossy and swollen from his kisses and tongue. They part easily for him. “Want to clean me up, princess?” The mocking in his tone returns but you can’t deny this time that it does something to you.

Your eyes are low, and you eagerly tilt your head, taking his fingers in your mouth. Warm and inviting as your tongue slides over his digits, your eyes locked in his.

“Good girl,” He coos. Pride swells in your chest.

“Need you now,” You say once he’s sufficiently clean. Childe tilts his head adoringly. His faux cute voice and his charming boyish-ness contrast the cocky attitude he has on display, but you can’t get enough. You need this like you need nicotine in your veins, a whole new drug to fuel your system when he taunts and riles you up. All with a sweet smile that has your knees weak.

“What do you mean, baby?” His voice is low, casual like he’s talking normally to you. You loop your arms around his neck and lean forward, pressing your chest to his. He tilts his head up, face-to-face as your noses brush. You can tell he’s just as addicted to you. His eyes glimmering bright, his cheeks and ears flushed a bright tomato red.

And the tent in his sweats helps clue you in, too.

“Need you inside me, baby,” You whisper husky, dropping a hand to drift over the toned planes of his chest, feeling him even through the hoodie. And damn, if he looked as good as he felt, you hoped you got another chance for this. Childe chuckles, charmed by your actions. “Get this off first,”

He squeezes your thigh affectionately. “Yes, ma’am,” His reply is semi sarcastic and you roll your eyes, playing into this dynamic. Both of you are amused, the corners of your mouths fighting off smiles while he pulls off his hoodie and shirt.

“Mmm,” You hum appreciatively as he exposes his torso, your eyes raking over his form. The curves and dips of his chest to his stomach, to the v-line dipping below his sweatpants. He’s built, and you can tell he’s strong just by the look of him. The muscles of his stomach flex with every breath. You let your hand trail down his skin, tapping on the freckles painting his skin, connecting the dots all the way down to his waistband.

“Take ‘em off, pretty,” He encourages, lifting his hips. His hands are still planted firmly on your thighs. No, this was a job for you to do.

You pull at the elastic of his sweatpants until they come undone, glancing between his face and his body. He was a god-given specimen. Much as you may not have wanted to initially admit it to yourself. Childe was attractive, and he earned that acknowledgment from you. You’re biting your lips, hungry as you pull his waistband down just enough to free his hard-on.

“Fuck,” A quiet groan escapes your parted lips, your hand circling around his cock. He grips your thighs tighter just slightly. Whimpering, his hips nearly buck up as you experimentally twist your wrist just slightly. “Sensitive,” You comment, taking your own turn to tease him.

“Fuck–always am with you,” He’s melting against the chair as he groans that, falling apart on your featherlight touches, stroking his tip down to the base. Painfully slow, torturous even. You hum, tightening your hold around him just slightly, a wicked smile on your face when he whines and bucks his hips. “Feel-feels good, baby,” He manages to get out.

“Yeah?” You’re purring as you continue your motions, but you don’t go faster.

Instead, you lift yourself up just slightly, balancing on his shoulder with your free hand. You line up his cock with your eager hole, already so wet and ready for him. You roll your hips against his tip. You swear you see his brain short circuit, a weird sound catching in his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.

“W-wait,” He blinks his eyes open slightly, his hands sliding up to your waist. “Condom,” He motions his head in the direction of his bag. You blink once or twice as you realise what he’s saying.

“R-right,” You lean forward to kiss him before you climb off, managing to get over to his bag without stumbling. You couldn’t put this off, but you were going to be responsible at the very least, goddammit.

Returning with the condom, you take your place on his lap. He reaches for the condom package but you hold it above your head. “Hands off, pretty boy,”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty,” Childe bats his lashes, falling back in his seat. You shake your head, swallowing while his hands smooth over your hips and waist, reassuring and grounding touches. You rip open the package and roll it over his hard dick, rolling your wrist to get him worked up again. He smiles into the next groan he lets out, bliss rocking through his body.

Then you lower onto his cock, spreading your thighs as much as the chair will allow as you take him into your eager cunt. Your walls flutter around the width of him. Even with his fingers stretching you and your own experiences, Childe is still big. He fills you up, sending shivers across your body as you sink inch-by-inch.

A chest-deep moan escapes the man as your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in. “Holy shit,” He grunts, one of his hands gripping the arm of his chair. It takes everything in him not to move his hips, desperately wanting to bury himself in your warmth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. You should’ve done this sooner. You’re both gone as you finally sink down, breathless again as you bottom out on his length. You’ve never felt this full. You feel like you’re on cloud nine and you haven’t even moved. Childe doesn’t try to rush you as you adjust to him, panting with your head on his shoulder and squeezing his biceps.

“Good?” He questions softly, and you nod against his neck.

“Good,” You mumble, “So fucking good,” He hums in response, massaging your waist.

When you finally move, he whimpers again, holding onto you like a lifeline as you swirl your hips, sinking down. Lift, fall, lift, fall. You set a rhythm slowly, picking up pace as you feel the way he pushes into you again and again, hitting that deep spongy spot inside you, filling up your wet cunt, stretching you so very deliciously.

This is better than cocaine (not that you’ve ever done that).

“Yes, baby, just like that,” Childe encourages. “Fuck, fuck–fuck,” He curses over and over while you ride him, going faster now, squeezing him tight. Your pussy has a vice grip on his cock, dragging him in. He desperately lifts his hips to meet every drop of yours, thrusting up into you and making you bounce. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good–” Childe smooths his hands over your spine, kneading the fat of your ass, squeezing your thighs.

He can’t keep his hands off you, and he can’t keep his mouth from running, his thoughts unfiltered and filthy as you ride his cock like a carousel ride. He’s a goner, his head swimming with clouds, lust blinding every sense and moral he might’ve had. All he knows, all he cares about, is fucking you stupid.

“Ahf, please– Childe,fuckfuck–fuck!” You squeal and roll your hips, moaning and panting against his clammy skin, electrified by his actions. You can feel another orgasm building inside you, that cord pulling into a knot with every thrust of his cock against that sweet spot. “Please, need to cum, baby, need to come on your cock, pleaseplease,” You feed into his own sinful encouragements, repeating it like a mantra as you desperately buck your hips, whining when he thrusts up into you, fucking you extra full.

The both of you pant and moan, closer and closer to that precipice of euphoria as your orgasms build. Childe still manages to speak but you fall to notice, getting louder and more incoherent between his broken whines and cries of ‘how good you take me’ and ‘such a pretty little face’. You can tell he’s getting close now as he slumps back in his seat, his hands a bruising iron-grip on your ass as he holds you in place, mustering all of his remaining strength to fuck you again and again and again.

He gives you little warning of his orgasm, and yours follows just seconds after as you roll and circle your hips, your toes curling and your thighs clenching around his hips. A load moan falls from your lips and your body stutters as your second orgasm watces over you, your pussy clenching tight on his hard cock.

Childe’s gone in a second, cumming so fast and hard, he sees stars in his vision, his body moving on instinct as he slows down. His jaw goes slack and he pants out over his orgasm, the current setting his nerves on fire coming in waves before it calms down. You ride out your highs together, panting and sweaty and hot, but neither of you moves for a long time.

***

You collapse against his chest, blinking back unshed tears from your screwed shut eyes, bliss stuffing your head full of cotton still. Childe stares up at the ceiling for a moment, allowing you both the moment to recollect yourselves. When he’s sure his heart isn’t going to burst out of his chest and run down the hallway screaming bloody murder, his arms circle around you. He brushes some hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear, causing you to look up at him, your chin on his chest.

“You good?” He asks, quirking his brow curiously. You can only smile, pleased, a quiet hum in your throat. But he catches it and the way it rattles in your chest, rumbling in his as well like an echo. He chuckles and rubs your back soothingly, his hand underneath your shirt but not uncomfortably. He seems satisfied with what transpired.

Truthfully, you are too.

“You know…” He leans his cheek on his shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a girl like that,” He admits.

“Ah, you’re not going to fall in love with me because of this, are you?” You tease, squeezing his bicep as if to let him know you’re just playing a joke. He laughs and tickles the space just beneath your shoulder blades, conjuring a shiver that has your body tingling. He looks over your face, taking you in and all of your features, before he looks at the wall.

“If you… feel that way again, I don’t mind helping out..” He tells you after a few more seconds, staring at the desk of equipment. He doesn’t meet your eyes until you sit up a little bit, looking at him curiously. “I’m serious,” He adds. “Clearly you enjoy it, and I do too,” He glances over the both of you, his eyes noticeably staring at the curve of you, the plush of your thighs, the fat of your stomach, the curve of your chest and your waist. And, he stares at where you two are still connected.

Your face feels warm and you look away. “Point,” Is all you respond…

After that, you both calm down and shuffle into getting dressed. You don’t respond outwardly to his promise, but it sticks in the back of your mind as you shimmy back into your shorts, turning your back on him politely as he fixes his sweats and pulls his hoodie back on. The air is shifted between you two, no longer thick with tension and not uncomfortable but… different.

You finish cleaning up, spraying a couple spritz of your perfume to hide your deeds and activities before you both lock up and head to your cars. Much like the night at the bar, this one doesn’t leave your mind, and you can’t help but wonder if you did the right thing…

———

A/Ns: sooo... y/n and childe huh? anyway y'all like the color blue? lmaoooo this chapter took a bit to write cuz i was lowk struggling but anyway i hope its still enjoyable !! likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget i love you <33

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