#But not like. Runs him over. There's a fucking saw blade on the front that starts cutting through the bottom of his torso

[risuola]

V — SILENT PROMISE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna thought he won't bend, but the sight of you made him question himself.

cw: blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 1,5k words

series masterlist

You were wet, your breath was heaving and your heartbeat rumbling in your head.

You were trembling.

Bleeding.

The red iron stung your eye, made your hair stuck to your temple and cheekbone. Pain pulsated, spreading its waves around your skull, focusing right where the wound was somewhere underneath the strands of your wet hair — a mark left by the grip of a gun that hit your head hard.

You coughed.

Yet another splash of ice-cold water hit you in the face and you weren’t ready. Again. Your clothes were soaked, sticking to your body in a harsh cocoon of fabric. Your light-blue t-shirt translucent against your skin, stained with blood that dripped from your face. You felt exposed, cold. It was humiliating, having all four of the men around you look and snort at every shiver that run down your spine. They seemed amused, they were amused to torture you.

Someone grabbed your hair, pulling the wet locks violently and forcing you to look up, to tilt your head back. Something sharp touched your neck, poking and prodding at your delicate flesh on the side of your throat.

“I don’t know anything,” you whimpered, before the question was asked once more. What do you know about Sukuna Ryomen? You heard that already twenty times and each of them was a little lower, a little more cruel, a little more violent.

Fact is, you couldn’t even recall how you got into the dimly lit room lined with cold concrete and furnished with steel. One moment you were heading home with a bag of snacks and the most gorgeous, most red strawberries you found in the store and in the next, you were here — tied up with the very same strawberry red running down your face.

The ropes were digging into your flesh, partially taking away the circulation and your hands felt numb, tied behind the backrest of a metal chair. You could feel your skin ripping underneath the roughly textured bounds, it stung every time you were yanked around or hit by someone. It wasn’t humane, you didn’t do anything, you shouldn’t be treated like that—

“I’m sure you can tell us something. Sooner, the better, princess.”

—but you were. The men around you were kind enough to explain the situation to you before the terror began. Apologized even, but they didn’t seem sorry when the first pain was inflicted on you. When they screamed and threatened, they didn’t seem sympathetic or regretful. No. It was pleasurable for them, you saw it in their eyes, on their faces. Pathetic joy that they got from torturing someone like you.

You felt the blade press its way into your skin and it stung. A hot drop of, what you only assumed was blood run down the side of your neck and along your collarbone, sinking finally into the ruined fabric of your blouse. The cut was shallow, you could tell as much, but it still sent yet another jolt of fear throughout your body. You felt your heart going wild inside your chest and you held your breath, afraid to move too much when the knife was that close to your throat.

“I really don’t know you fucking asshole!” You groaned the moment he took the weapon away. The stress and fatigue made you lose your temper but you were determined to not cry, no matter how much you wanted to and god knows you wanted to wail.

* * *

“Seeing something familiar?”

Sukuna felt in real time how the blood in his veins was turning into fire. Rage — indescribable and heavy — was taking over his thoughts and his muscles were twitching. His shoulders, up until now relaxed, squared up. His brows furrowed, a crease formed between them and the look of his eyes became cold and dreadful. Menacing.

“How unwise,” he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. The officer in front of him flinched, bending underneath the gruesome, unnerving aura that turned the air in the room into a thick substance, impossible to breathe in. Despite his best effort to hide his nerves, the droplets of sweat gave all away. Sukuna smiled, grinned in a way that’s thirsty, in a way that craves blood and pain. “You’re getting very nervous, detective.”

“Cooperate and all of that will soon be over,” the man said, struggling to hold the gaze of the criminal that’s now leaning towards him, asserting his nightmarish dominance over the situation.

“Oh, it will be over soon, but I doubt you’ll be happy with the results.”

“We predicted you might not be thrilled to see this girl interrogated, and—”

“That is what you call an interrogation? Beating a little girl? It seems like my ways of dealing with people are more humane than the ones of police.”

“Unfortunately, it’s the mean to an end. You are too valuable of a capture, it gave us a green light to use every method possible to get what we want from you and that includes torturing this hardly innocent little girl.”

Sukuna scoffed. Then laughed — the sound of it ominous and loud. His head tilted backwards and he leaned against the backrest. He knew how it worked; he used those very same methods to get what he needed in life. He threatened women, he threatened children but, in his etiquette, violence against those groups was forbidden. Fear, yes, but physical abuse not and he stood by those rules, enforcing them on his pawns. He used those methods because they were effective. Not a single man in love, not a single husband or father, stayed strong for long when a wife or a kid was on the line. They always bent.

Was he now one of those men who bend?

“A mean to an end, huh?”

“It’s either you or her. You can tell us what we want to know and she’ll be safe and sound, with no charges to her name. You can also keep up the stubborn and we’ll see how much she can take. If that doesn’t work, we can also put her to prison and, I assure you, she’ll be very popular over there. Female inmates love to play with newbies.”

Sukuna couldn’t imagine you being in jail. You were too fragile, too sensitive to be incarcerated, you belonged in silk and flowers, not steel and concrete. You deserved to be free and now they threatened to encage you? Very, very unwise.

* * *

“I didn’t cry, you know?”

“You’re one very, very brave kitten, are you not?” Sukuna cooed, holding you tight to his chest and kissing the torn skin around your wrists for the nth time. He’s got you in a cocoon of his own jacket, on the back seat of a black car driven by one of his pawns. You were tired, exhausted, but happy to see him, to feel him.

The praise made you giddy, his menacingly loving tone made your heart bang against your ribs despite there being no danger anymore. You still shivered due to your wet clothes but now it was somehow bearable. Now, with a large, mighty body next to you and callused hands gripping you tightly, the discomfort of wet clothing was just a nuisance. You were smiling, nuzzling into him, craving the touch you’ve been stripped off for way too long. Nearly three whole weeks you spent without seeing Sukuna, neglected of his warmth and once you saw him again, you realized that the constant of danger that followed him has got you hooked.

“I missed you,” you said into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin that poked through the metallic hint of blood and plain smell of soap he had to use while in jail. The jacket you had wrapped around your upper body carried his expensive perfume — rich and woody, smoky note of tobacco and vanilla. It was sexy, spicy with a touch of sweetness that you couldn’t get enough of.

“Me too, sweet thing, me too.”

Sukuna exhaled, allowing the tension away from his shoulders. Despite the crime he just committed — another one to his name — he felt at ease, because you were safe. The moment he saw, not more than an hour ago, the fear in your eyes; the moment one of the officers ripped your shirt open and used the knife to snap one of your bra straps, his patience snapped as well. It didn’t take him long to put down the detective that was assigned to him — headbutting him so hard he passed out cold. Once he undid the chains, he was out the door and searching for you, fighting his way through the officer-packed halls until your frame came into sight.

“Ryomen—” you gasped out, once your beautiful eyes landed on him and he could have sworn they glittered in the dim, dirty lights around. There was a cheer in your voice, a melody of joy and relief and at the moment he couldn’t care any less about the violence he was exuding. He needed the men around you down and you out of here. And he’s got you out quickly, carrying you in his arms and towards the car that waited for him.

That’s how he’s got you there, trembling against him but safe. Whilst kissing your wounds, he made silent promises to never let that happen again.

» PART SIX SOON

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt, @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed, @b3llair3, @lzaj19 , @sanzusforeverwife, @annshz, @mrs--imperfect, @kaminari-no-ritsusha, @gojos-princesa, @burpzz, @cyzvx, @sterzin, @minidrake, @acidrefiux, @starteez, @tremendousbouquetflower, @anan-baban, @thejujvtsupost, @iivellich , @fresa-luna, @iheartlinds, @he4rts444mi, @when-worlds-end, @the-reas0n-is-y0u, @hangezoes-wife, @noosayog, @gothiccwhore666

[kingprinceleo]

Oh fuck me fuckme fuck me

[joelsgreys]

conflicted

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Your captor gives you a bath. You have some conflicting feelings when he touches you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. also tagging elements of NONCON just to be on the safe side. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, Joel killed her father, mention of blood, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own. pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, pretty girl, little girl), daddy kink, very minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: <1k

a/n: this is a bit less than a blurb. a blurb of a blurb. a blurbette, if you will. i shelled it out in like less than an hour. to me it is part of the captive universe, but can be read as a standalone! please be advised that this is not fleshed out at all, i just felt like writing something that didn’t require too much brain power.

He pours one last pail of hot water into the tub.

“How’s the water?” he asks you.

His voice is so deep. Rich, like molasses. 

It’s also laced with a southern accent, you’d noticed.

Aware he’s still waiting for an answer, you shrug.

He tries again. “S’not too hot, is it?”

He had ordered one of the women in the group to start a fire and boil water collected from the stream they had stumbled upon just a mile south of the small cottage.

“Seriously, Joel?” Angela had glared at him. “I am not a fucking maid.” Hands planted on her hips, she foolishly added, “If I’m gonna haul and boil water for a bath, it’s gonna be for me, alright? Not for that little fucking brat of yours.”

His switchblade had gone straight to her throat.

“Fuckin’ say that again,” Joel hissed, the sharp edge of the blade lightly slicing into her flesh. “Call her that one more time and see what fuckin’ happens.”

She apologized and then got to work, completing the task within a couple of hours.

Finally, you answer his question.

“Water’s fine,” you mumble. It’s hot, but not scalding.

“Good.”

Joel kneels beside the tub.

Flinching, you hunch over and pull your legs up against your chest.

It doesn’t matter. He’s already seen you naked.

He’s the one who had undressed you, after all.

Dipping a washcloth into the water, Joel instructs, “Sit up straight, honey.”

Honey.

The pet name makes you feel sick to your stomach.

You’re not his honey. You’re his prisoner.

He frowns, the creases between his brows deepening.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, pretty girl.”

Obediently, you nod and the water sloshes around you as do what he says.

You saw what he was capable of. You’re terrified of him.

With a satisfied hum, he begins washing you.

It had been three days since the massacre. Joel gently scrubs away the crimson caked onto your skin and the color of the water turns to rust. You don’t know whose blood you’ve been wearing—could it be your father’s?

He had been standing in front of you when his life was taken by the very same man that knelt beside you. Had his blood splattered on you? Was it being cleaned off by the same man who had so violently spilled it?

Your stomach lurches at the thought.

He had been trying to protect you during the ambush.

Your father had been trying to fucking protect you.

And Joel Miller had killed him.

He had killed him just to get to you.

Joel runs the washcloth down your arm, his dark gaze dragging over every inch of your body. “Such a pretty, pretty little girl,” he murmurs. Dropping the washcloth into the water, he gently cups one of your breasts in his large hand. He sweeps his thumb over your nipple and lightly teases the pebbled flesh, his digit circling it until it becomes a stiff peak.

Your eyes flutter closed and you inhale sharply.

There’s a strange feeling in your lower belly.

Strange because it’s not entirely unpleasant.

He trails his hand lower, raking over your tummy.

Lower.

Lower.

Lower.

He rests his palm over the mound of your pussy.

Gasping, your thighs clench together.

You’d like to think it’s to keep him out, to keep him from violating you further, but the burning pressure building in between your hips seems to be saying otherwise.

Horrified, you squeeze your thighs even tighter.

No. Don’t let him in.

But what if your resistance led him to force his way in?

You shudder, unable to decide which would be worse.

Joel leans forward over the bathtub, pressing his lips to your temple. “Don’t fight it, honey. S’okay that it feels good,” he mumbles against your skin. “It’s s’pposed to feel good when I touch you, baby.”

No, it’s fucking not!

Bowing your head, quietly begin to sob.

He wraps his arms around you. “Don’t cry, babygirl,” he soothes. “Don’t cry. Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you. I promise I’ll always take good care of you.”

His vow makes you cry even harder.

divider credit @saradika 🤍

[bigfatbimbo]

saw ur post ab the vees and i wasn't sure if u wanted nsfw rambles or sfw rambles so like... i'll send the sfw rambles in a separate ask 😭

anywaysss im thinking ab putting them all in their place.... maybe they're all arguing over you or being pissy to eachother in general so you punish them all- seperately ofc, u cant have them getting off in eachothers pleasure bc ik damn well they'd be into watching you fuck someone else especially another one of the vees

i am always willing to rant about the vees🙏🙏🙏

summary — The Vees being humbled by the reader in the form of loose, unprofessional headcanons and vague thoughts.

warnings — dom reader, sub… everyone else, very messy, not proofread, read at the risk of incoherence

a/n — I HATE THEM SO MUCH!! THEY’RE THE WORST!! Let’s as a society fuck them to tears.

So, unpopular opinion, I’ve see a few ideas of being the vees collective lay or ‘plaything’ fucktoy, and the idea is so much more fun with a dom reader.

And i’m saying that objectively too, like not just as a dom reader blog. Because these are three people who make up the worst aspects of society, and lowkey are basically just manipulation tactics personified. Propaganda the trio!

Looking at these cocky assholes, who are the embodiment of what is considered terrible people, and who all have unmatched mathematically impossibly high egos, would it just be so fun to fuck the pride out of them?

Especially, for example, let’s say you’re around a lot and you’ve become a trusted person a good fuck for the Vees. They all have terrible attention seeking tendencies, so it would be safe to assume they’d be all over you.

Vox would be trying to talk to you about whatever particular subject he thinks is most interesting (about himself) to capture your attention, while Velvette would be close to you as well, flicking her phone your direction to show you something she finds funny or hot, but mainly as a subtle power-play to get your attention off Vox and onto her.

Valentino would be much less subtle, of course, by nature. He’d be all up around you, touching you, running his hands along your shoulder blades as he walks past, and probably the type to ‘drop something’ and bend over to flash you his fishnets and panties.

Needless to say, they’re all pissing each other off immensely. Obviously, being short tempered people, this leads to an argument because Velvette was ‘talking to you first’ but Vox had ‘actually important things to say’ and according to Valentino ‘the two of you were boring them out of their minds’ and he had to ‘spice your day up.’

Unfortunately for the Vees, you don’t do your one ‘job.’ Your attention isn’t given to any one of them. Yet. You just simply sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone and flicking through channels. Maybe you even actually leave the tower and go eat out or something.

Of course, until later when you pick them off one by one. And no matter who you decide to fuck senseless first, they will be so obviously loud just to be petty because, after all, you did choose them first. Like they would be being obnoxiously vocal about how ‘full they are’ or how ‘you’re going so fast!’ or some other fake shit like that. It’s honestly a whole show. Now, I feel like fucking all of them at the same time is kind of inevitable, because they’re all deprived horny freaks on the lowkey. (Except for Val it’s very highkey.) But I think there would be little mannerisms that appear on one on one sessions that they would NEVER show during a foursome. For example, Vox’s certain… titles he uses. mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink. Because he would literally die before calling you mommy or daddy in front of Velvette or Val. It’s okay when it’s just you because it’d be easier to be vulnerable around someone he trusts to set his dominance fully aside for.

And like, yeah, the other Vees know he gets fucked just like the rest of them, but it’s simpler for him to keep his illusion of dominance and respect out side of the bedroom, if the more shamefully submissive aspects of himself stayed hidden.

Also, I think Valentinos would have an easier time actually giving into to subbing during one on one sessions. Like yes, he does sub when it’s with you all the time. That’s the point of the fic.

But he’s less of a power bottom, and his flirtatious, incredibly disgusting remarks subside much faster into whimpers and whining.

Because, although less professional than Vox, he does still have an image. And when it’s just you fucking him, his vile horny comments disappear into whines for your attention in no time. Well actually a lot of time, but the point is that they actually do. And similar to Valentinos, Velvette’s confidence when bottoming alone with you is increasingly less apparent. Yea, she’s still bossy and definitely a power bottom, but there’s more of a recognition that she isn’t in charge. Honestly, she’s such a princess I think she’d actually have a very hard time going into subspace, even when alone. Because degradation just pisses her off. Why aren’t you worshipping her like you should be? But then it’s, what the fuck, why aren’t you worshiping her like you should be?? It makes her brat out even harder, which she does show in front of the other Vees, until she’s actually just needy to be pleased and given pleasure, making her twice as whiny. That aspect she does not show in front of the vees. But let’s talk about group sex with the Vees. Probably only used as a severe punishment, or a surprisingly giving reward. I have a very particular scene for the severe punishment aspect, however. So they’ve all been bad, but let’s say, for the sake of specifics to set the scene, Val has been worse. It is still a punishment for Vox and Velvette, but punishing them all to the same extent when Val has misbehaved clearly more would be wrong, would it not? They’re all greedy, selfish assholes, so you’ve concocted the perfect form of torture for your useless brats; they don’t receive anything until they’re good. Especially Val. Velvette has a strap on, so she can’t even feel anything but minor friction when you slide your worked open ass onto the plastic dick and open your legs, exposing your empty pussy to none other than Vox. He eats you out reluctantly, while rutting into the mattress as fast as he could, all while you cockwarm (and sometimes roll your hips to press the strap against her pussy uncomfortably) Velvette. Oh, and where’s Valentino? Tied up in a chair in front of the bed, getting a perfect shot while being totally naked and hard. You have a gag in his mouth too, because otherwise he’d be complaining the whole time. Because that’s just not fair, is it? He does this all day for a living. Seriously, he watches people fuck all day. It was his turn to feel something! And you would only have punished him more if he’d done something about this at work today. (Yikes..) I mean, this sounds like complete and utter bullshit. A lose-lose situation! But, it actually is completely fair. And as you’re receiving all the pleasure, from Velvettes feelingless, fake dick, Vox’s tongue while he humps the bed pathetically, and Val’s whines in complaint, you know the punishment is working. You’ve bothered them behind belief, you’ve hit a spot you knew would leave a message. Because none of the attention is on our poor little trio at all. These naturally selfish, greedy people, have to finally give. And god, they’re becoming more desperate for your attention and praise by the second.

a/n — We all know I love sub Vox. But this opened by eyes to how much I love sub Velvette and Valentino. REQUEST THEM ALL MORE.

Also, Rose, I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU FOR A FIRE ASF PROMPT.

if this flops im throwing myself out of a window btw

[notjustjavierpena]

Does hubby and his wife have rougher sex sometimes? I saw you wrote a post where you thought about him spanking her 🙊🙈

Rough (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is just a little treat because I love getting smutty anons. The monkey emojis really made me do it. As always, thank you to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta’ing. Absolute queen 🫡💖

Summary: PWP. It is what it is!

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: husband!javier loves his wife, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, doggy style, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, spanking, light choking, sprinkled with breeding kink, sprinkled with some love and devotion

Word count: 800

Rough

Javier has you on your hands and knees. The house is empty except for you, all doors and windows closed to allow what you are doing to reach a volume that would concern your neighbors if they heard.

“Put your hands on the headboard,” he commands as he fucks you and you immediately grab it so harshly that your knuckles start to hurt. However, you are too caught up in the way pleasure shoots through your system like tiny electric currents to notice.

“Who’s a good girl?” He asks and lets his palm come down on your ass and your moan is pathetic. The lingering sting makes you clamp down on his cock, causing a low growl to spill from his mouth in the midst of his strained panting. He goes impossibly rougher and sends you flying forward until you have to cross your arms in front of you, rest them on the headboard, and lay your forehead against them if you don’t want to bang into the wall.

“Me,” you whisper, trying to concentrate on your rapidly approaching orgasm. His cockhead is grinding against your g-spot with each thrust, and it feels so good that you cannot keep sounds from pouring from your lips. Your heart beats fast, your face is hot and you can feel sweat run down your spine as you share body heat with him.

“Say it louder, Princesa (princess),” he groans and smacks your ass again, “C’mon now, let me hear it.”

“It’s me,” you let him know in a higher-pitched voice. He makes a sound of approval but you keep begging for him to make you finish, “Please, baby.”

“And who did a good job tonight?” He continues his questions with a shakier voice. You try to imagine the way his forehead creases slightly when he is focused, and the mental image makes your clit jump.

“Me!” You try to grind back into him, “Oh God, I’m—“

“M-hm, baby. You’re my sweet, good girl,” his breath hitches in his throat when you start to flutter around him, signaling that your pleasure is just around the corner. He pounds your g-spot, “And who gets to come on my cock?”

“I do,” you reply without hesitation, and then you peak after those words. As you come with a loud cry of relief, he reaches around you to splay a hand on your chest and lifts you up until your back is against his chest. You moan feebly as you still feel the warm waves of pleasure pulsating between your legs, but the sound dies in your throat as his broad hand reaches upwards to grip around your neck. He holds you in place, the other hand going down to your cunt to stroke your clit until you cannot think anymore. It hurts so good to be forced to come again, and Javier drives into your sensitive cunt with newfound energy, desperate for his own release.

“Te quiero (I love you), I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant, baby, mi chica sucia (my dirty girl),” he bites at the spot behind your ear, squeezing around your throat. It is the sound of you choking on a moan as you come again that sends him over the edge, your walls pulling him further in and fucking the come from his cock. He groans and settles inside of you whilst he spills his load, giving you enough to make it drip down the sides of your abused hole whilst he is still nestled inside of you.

He slumps and holds your body close, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. When you think it’s over, he thrusts one last time to push his seed as far inside of your cunt as possible before he might go soft. You sound like you might cry.

“Shh,” he soothes, “I’m taking care of you. No crying, mi amor (my love).”

“I love you too,” you finally reply.

“Lo sé (I know),” he kisses your back gently, moans when he slips out of you, “I’m gonna move, let yourself move with me.”

You nod with a whimper. He lets the both of you fall to the side and hugs you around the middle in this new position. You close your eyes, relishing in the way it feels like his cock has molded you forever, and sigh with deep satisfaction.

“Más (more),” you say softly, “Quiero más (I want more).”

“Bebita (little baby),” there is a hint of something condescending in his voice. You whine but he soothes you by reaching down to cup your whole mound, easing two fingers into you until you mewl, “You can have whatever you want.”

.

.

.

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[trashmouth-richie]

this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush

18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌

2.1k // eddie x fem reader

your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?

send me a prompt!

“Don’t be a dumbass.” 

Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 

In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 

Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 

Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 

“Why would I lie about that?” 

Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 

Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”

What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 

The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 

Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 

Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 

Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 

He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 

Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.

—

The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 

It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 

A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 

Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 

It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 

He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 

Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.

So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 

Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 

Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 

By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 

“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”

“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 

Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 

He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 

Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 

instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 

“Huh?” 

Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”

He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 

“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 

Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.

Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 

“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 

You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.

Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 

“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”

He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.

“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”

You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 

He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 

“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 

“Ed—” 

He smirks.

“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”

“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 

“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 

“Get..” 

“He bigger than me?” 

“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.

“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”

The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 

He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 

“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 

“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” 

“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”

“Babe—.” 

“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”

His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 

He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 

Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.

His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 

He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”

You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 

He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 

“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 

Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.

Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.

Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 

He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 

New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 

You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 

[diaryofanidiot]

The Experiments

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Chapter list: Prologue, 1, <2> ,3 ,4 ,5

Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment

Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.

Chapter Two

The blades of the evac chopper beat against my ears painfully as I was escorted into it. A headset was placed over my ears to muffle the sound as I looked up to see Soap faintly smiling down at me.

It wasn't connected to the other's comm sets so once they spoke during take off, I couldn't hear a thing. All I could do was wonder if I really trusted these people. I glanced to Ghost as I did, a faint sense of faith settling in my gut. Him rescuing me from that hellhole was enough for that primal connection to click in my brain.

Yes. If I could trust him, I could trust them. They all seemed close anyway. Hard won battles sealing their connection to each other.

The next few hours were agonizing as the chopper landed, and I was brought on to the compound. From ID photos to a full body scan for any tracking devices on my person; it seemed they weren't taking any risks with me.

Gaz and Soap would often give me a sympathetic glance as I was pushed around to each check-in task in a wheel chair as I was still too weak to walk fully.

"We're gonna have you looked at in the med bay, then we will need you to recount some info for us. That alright with you?" Asked Gaz. I nodded, appreciative that he made it seem like I even had a choice.

I sighed heavily, ready for it all to be over. The adrenaline had worn off just enough to make me realize how sleep deprived I really was.

Machines beeped, and faint chatter could be heard throughout the medical building of the compound. I underestimated how stressful the environment would be. My fingernails dug into the arms of the wheelchair as Gaz steered it.

Soap was beside me, Price and Ghost having left to recount the mission and write a report of some sorts, he seemed to notice my fear.

"None's gonna hurt ya, Lass." He assured me as I was wheeled over to a hospital cot. Him and Gaz lifted me onto it as I looked around wide eyed.

"No.." I coughed out, my voice raspy and once again dry. "No.. Doctors..." I strained, trying to move. They both held me in place, Gaz giving me a stern look.

"They're just going to look over your injuries. We will be right here the entire time." He tried to assure me.

I shook my head rapidly. Ghost... I wanted Ghost here. I didn't have time to wonder why my thoughts went to him, I just needed to get free. I struggled against their hold as a woman in a clean white coat pulled back the curtain around my cot.

My breathing grew heavy and the room seemed to spin. My nails dug small crescents into my palms as I tried frantically to break free. I heard voices and felt a hand on my back but the sounds felt like they were underwater.

I saw a white lab coat flash in front of my vision and I bared my fangs, my lips trembling fearfully.

Danger?

Gotta run...

Can't run.

Fight?

No... yes. Fuck

Fuckfuckfuck

I felt a sharp prick in my neck and turned my head rapidly, biting towards the hand near my face. I heard someone hiss in pain as my teeth broke flesh.

My hair was grabbed, along with my jaw, until I released my hold. My vision blurred and muscles twitched as I struggled.

It all went dark after that.

My dreams melted with reality as I woke and tried to shift in bed. A frown appeared on my lips as I realized I couldn't move my limbs. Fuck.

My eyes flew open as I tried to sit up, the restraints clanging against the metal bars of the cot.

"Easy." My attention flew toward the source of the voice to see none other than Ghost sitting beside me.

I gave him a quizzical "what the fuck" look and his eyes focused on mine sternly through the mask.

"You had a panic attack. Flew off the handle. Hence, the restraints." He sat back in the chair, never once taking his eyes away from me. "Those fangs of yours can really do some damage. Gaz won't be able to throw a good punch with that hand for bout a week."

I swallowed thickly, realizing what I did as he spoke. A faint leftover metallic taste of blood lingered in my mouth. I looked down with guilt.

"Nobody blames you." He huffed. "Hell, not even Gaz. Traumas a bitch."

He paused before continuing. "They had to sedate and restrain you for your safety. Once you're cleared, they can be removed."

I thew my head back with a sigh. I couldn't lie. It genuinely sucked to be moved from one set of restraints to another.

"Look at me."

I turned my head.

"I'm gonna bring the doctor back in here. She's friendlier than I am, promise. Think you can manage?"

I bit my lip in contemplation, my fangs drawing a small dab of blood from my lip as I did.

"Don't worry. I'm staying here."

I took a deep breath and nodded before Ghost peered out the curtain. "She's ready." I heard him say.

There was some shuffling before the doctor walked in. Her eyes showed no fear as if she were used to similar reactions like mine.

"My name is Harriet." She began, holding a clipboard to her chest. "I'm the doctor that's been assigned to you. We did a small checkup while you were sedated, I hope that's okay."

I nodded slowly, trying to keep my breaths steady.

"The Lieutenant informed me on where you came from, so I understand your anxiety around me. You've been put on an IV for the time being to replenish your nutrients until we can be sure you can handle an actual meal."

It was then I noticed the needle in my arm. I frowned at it, but the sight didn't bother me as much as this place. Ghost seemed to be keeping an eye on me, likely to ensure any more freak outs didn't ensue.

"I need to take a look at your throat real quick, do you mind?" She approached me calmly. I flinched but eventually agreed, opening my mouth in response. I watched as she shined a light down my throat, a compressor holding down my tongue.

She scribbled something on her clipboard. "I've been informed on your... alterations. Do you have any other abilities we need to be aware of?"

I thought for a moment and nodded my head slowly, holding up a single finger. She pursed her lips and grabbed a pen and paper.

"You can write, I assume?" She made a motion toward Ghist who unlocked my right arm, leaving the rest of the restraints on.

"Easy, girl. Behave." He said. It seemed like a slight hint of a joke. I took the pen and wrote sloppily on the paper.

Echolocation.

Her eyes widened slightly as she read. "I'm assuming this relates to your altered vocal chords?"

I nodded, averting my gaze to the white flooring.

"Well." She clicked her tongue, putting the clipboard back to her chest. "The good news is that with time, your ability to speak should clear up. It's mostly from dehydration and lack of use; the former being taken care of via IV. You have several infected cuts and a slight fever, along with those infected raw spots on your neck, but those will heal up just fine as well."

I took a breath of relief.

"With enough physical therapy, you should be able to walk just fine. Now the bad news.... we can't reverse the changes made to your vocal chords. If you like, the fangs can be dulled by a dentist, but that one is entirely your choice as neither alterations threaten your livelihood."

As I frowned in thought, Ghost stopped me. "You can decide that later."

I looked back to the doctor who gave me a small sympathetic smile. "One last thing, then I'll let you get some more rest. Do you remember your name? It isn't on the file that was brought with you."

I watched as I was given the pen once more. I closed my eyes and dug through my memory, searching for any remnants of who I was over a year prior.

A woman's voice echoed through my head. No, not a woman. A mother. My mother. She called out to me in agony.

My breath quickened as the memory played like hazy snapshots. Her hand grasping at my shirt. Being dragged away. Her hold on me failing. A gun to her head.

Everything was blurry. Everything was muffled.

Except...

I took the pen and wrote a name on the paper. The same name that echoed through my mind over and over.

A scalding tear fell down my cheek as the doctor nodded.

"It's nice to meet you, (y/n)."

A/n: sorry bout the tendons in your hand, Gaz. 🫡 had to be done.

I'm sorry this one is so short but I was fairly busy today. I'll make it up with the next one, promise ^-^

Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes @justmare @hk-4ever @thriving-n-jiving @katelouis98 @tayaisback @josieguts @btszn @lemmyyy0606 @msecho19 @cory-viv @cybercl0ne @randomhumans-blog @vinithechocolatevampire @embermdk @itsryuken @neothewitch @undercover-smutlover

[kteezy997]

The Emperor’s Wife: Part Three//Paul Atreides

Warnings:smut, threesome, like it gets right to it, doggy, fingering, dirty talk, reader briefly questions her sexuality, presence of cum, female receiving oral sex, mention of pregnancy

18+ readers only!!

You felt at ease now that you knew Chani wasn’t going to kill you, she didn’t even seem upset after finding you and her man in bed together.

“Fremen women have always shared their men. And I know that you love him, y/n. So I give you both my blessing to be together.”

Paul sighed softly, wrapping his arms around her slender body, nestling his cheek against her torso. “I love you, Chani.” he proclaimed, pressing a little kiss to her abdomen.

You watched as Chani ran her hand over Paul’s messy, dirty curls as he looked up at her, “I think… I would like to join you and her.” she said.

Paul quirked his brow at her, curiously, "Really?"

.........

You were astonished as he took her right then. Chani's layered robe was peeled off in an instant, and Paul bent her over the bed. She whimpered and moaned as he fucked her from behind.

You felt like a pervert, sitting there watching them. Paul look so hot and flushed as his face contorted while he rammed the pussy of his beloved concubine.

You were getting wet again, just by watching them. Chani cried out in pleasure, and she gripped hard onto the bedsheets in front of her. Paul was sweating, he smirked at you, then leaned over to push Chani down further with his hand between her shoulder blades. Her cries were thus muffled by the mattress.

No longer could you fight the urge to kiss him, to touch him. You got up and wrapped your arms around him, careful to not disrupt their sex, and you put your lips on his. He kissed you back, moaning onto your lips. You kissed his face, along his jaw, all while running your hands over his slick body.

His eyes pierced through you, and you shoved his disheveled hair out of his vision. Then he looked down at Chani, he stared at his cock pumping in and out of her. You felt your own pussy throb as you heard the slapping sound between him and her.

Paul's other wife was a beauty, so natural and raw. Her deep caramel skin glowed under the bedroom lighting. You put your hand on her hip as she bucked back at Paul. Chani's flesh was silky to the touch, her body was lean and strong. You could see why Paul wanted to be bound to her forever.

You were pulled into a warm, sticky embrace by your husband. Paul kissed your face and neck feverishly. His arm snaked around your body and the other slid down the front of you, dipping down between your folds. You shivered at the feeling.

"So wet for your husband, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice raspy as he spoke with his breath hitting your cheek.

You nodded, leaning against him as he rubbed your clit, "Yes." you answered, closing your eyes.

"Do you like watching me and Chani?" he probed, nibbling on the crook of your neck.

"mm-hmm." you hummed.

Paul inserted his fingers inside you. You throbbed around his digits as they rammed into you.

Chani paused, and collapsed onto the bed, panting.

"You think she wants to watch us?" he asked you, slowing up the pace of his fingering. He kissed you chastely, and before you could even think of answering, he shoved you down.

You gasped loudly as your face bounced on the softness of the bed in a quick manner, and Paul's hands were on your bottom, squeezing your flesh as his cock was shoved into you again. "Ahhh!" you cried. You lay your head to the side, and saw Chani laying next to you.

Her frizzy curls were a little wilder now, and she smiled softly at you. Her eyes were bright blue, but obviously tired. She ran her hand through your hair and kissed you on the cheek.

Paul continued to fuck you roughly, and Chani lightly massaged your back, caressing your tight muscles to soothe you. She gave you sweet, supportive kisses on your face and lips.

You had never fancied a woman before. In fact, Paul is the first person you ever had any love, desire, or lust for. Everything was happening so fast this night, and it was so new that you didn't know whether or not you were actually attracted to Chani, but you were glad that she was there with you. She had a very kind, inviting nature about her.

Your pussy throbbed and convulsed around the emperor's swollen cock. You felt his hips stir against you. But your pussy was suddenly empty, and you missed his cock as soon as he had pulled it out. You heard Paul groan, and you looked behind you to see him pumping his cock hard and fast with his hand.

Chani crawled over to him, waiting for him to burst, and he did. His sperm sprayed out in several ropes, on your ass, his hand, and Chani caught some on her tongue, swallowing it an obedient sort of way.

Paul stopped jerking his cock, looking at Chani then at you with a chuckle. He shook his head, then collapsed on to his back next to you. Chani, in turn, laid on the other side of him.

The three of you relaxed on the bed for a while. Paul put an arm around each of you. You cuddle up to his side, kissing his chest, letting your fingers slowly dance along his flat stomach.

He and Chani had started kissing, and she giggled lightly. However, you didn't feel jealous, not anymore. You didn't feel excluded. Paul kept his arm around you, and he stopped to turn and give you a kiss as well. You tucked your leg onto his as he gave little pecks to your cheek and nuzzled into your neck.

You saw Chani lean into his ear, whispering something. Paul grinned at her in response. He kissed your forehead, then rolled over on top of Chani. She was smiling and giggling. You were growing to admire the playfulness between the two of them. Paul dipped down, his face between her thighs. She locked her long legs around him, and he started to eat her out.

You looked on, watching Chani's eyes slowly begin to close, she moaned, bit her lip, and ran her fingers into her hair. He small breasts heaved, her nipples peaking as her man pleasured her with his mouth. She managed to open her eyes, and she looked over at you, "Did he lick your pussy, y/n?" she asked in a breathy tone.

You swallowed, "Y-yes, briefly."

"Oh, he's got such a natural talent for it." she gasped and you saw him shaking his head back and forth with his mouth on her pussy.

Paul brought Chani to an orgasm within a couple of minutes.

When they finished, she came down from her high as he cuddled her and she said, "I'm going to go get cleaned up. Usul, you should too. You're filthy."

He chuckled at her remark, watching her get up from the bed, and you tried to stop yourself from smirking.

Paul rolled over, getting half on top of you and he brought a hand up to cradle your head. "This night has been incredible. I'm so happy you came." he smiled down at you softly, then kissed your lips.

"Me too." you said, in between kisses. He had a way of looking at you that made your heart soar.

"I think you should know that Chani is pregnant." he whispered.

You gulped, knowing that you would never have the opportunity to have a child because of your political marriage. "That's wonderful for you both. And for House Atreides."

The Bene Gesserit were desperate to save Paul's lineage. They wouldn't be pleased with Chani as the one to bear the heir, but it was the better option to having no heir at all.

You couldn't help but be saddened at the thought of never having children. Paul told you when you were married that you could have other men, though you never desired it, but no children.

"My dear wife, you now have my love. I could be swayed to also give you a child whenever you wish. The vow I made when we were married is entirely faulty now.” he smirked.

Your heart raced, and you smiled beyond your ability to control, “You mean that? I can have your child?"

"Of course. Now, my child with Chani will be the rightful heir to House Atreides and the throne-"

"I don't care.” you said, cutting him off, “I've lived with royalty my whole life. I just want to enjoy a child, for who they are, not who they are meant to be."

Paul smiled, "You are a unique Bene Gesserit. They make plans in centuries."

"My only plans are to love and be loved by you, Paul Atreides."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen

[twentyninth]

❝ 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞. ❞

synopsis. hate sex w blade i guess idk

warnings. jalosi /j, jealous blade, hate sex, belly bulge, 18+, sex

author's name. release me from my shackles of writers' block please

pairing. blade x gn!reader

☆ kind of guy to just force your face into the pillows below as your ass is up in the air, for him just to go absolutely down on, and the belly bulge on your tummy was so noticeable :(( and he just kept going harder, after what seemed like your overstimulated hole was gonna finally rest from your loving and sworn rival since kids, this honestly was everything he was dreaming of, even since you both were children, he liked you, but you always competed with him, and that really is one reason why he likes to strive for a fight now, you like people that can put up a fight. and he did, just not in the way you thought. slowly his cock sinks in your hole again, just to look up and see he's put you in front of a mirror, just for you to see how messy he's made you, usually so calm and collected, playful and sarcastic. he loved and hated your attitude, but having such a smart babe, now dumb on his dick?? that's such a compliment. atleast to him. and every thrust was so harsh, and everytime he saw your scars, the ones that other people have had laid on you, made him just a little more jealous, but seeing the mark his cock has on your stomach makes it feel better. — whenever he sees you talking, or being flirty with anyone else, he can't stand it. he looks like he doesn't enjoy your flirting, but promise, he really enjoys it, takes care of himself better when he hears a compliment from you, and kafka notices that, "are you sure you both aren't anything more than.. friends?" ☆ his cock plunging into your hole that was so sensitive because of all the over rounds, his cold hands run over your chest, reaching for your nipples, tugging at them just for your reaction, he likes to think of this as payback and punishment for talking to people.. haven't you already understood you're his already?? the visible hickeys he's put on your collarbone throughout the night, the ones that everyone will see, and know that you belong to him, your childhood rival!! and can't help but kiss you everywhere after all is said and done. maybe even after finally getting showered, will eat you out, just for a bit, wash up again then go to bed. whenever he gives head though he gives it like a homeless man who hadn't eaten anything in days. that's it thanks for coming to my ted talk about blade fucking you and eating yo hole like a starved man.

dies

[maitadori]

WEAK WILLED KNIGHT part 3. nsfw. blade x fem!reader

word count : 4.7k

part one. part two. part three

summary : in which you miss blade since you haven’t seen him for two weeks and he decides to greet you with a breathtaking kiss and fucks you dumb.

content / cw : creampie, degrading, praising, fingering, breeding kink uhh idk that’s all i remember

a/n : this took days to post because i nitpick my writing literally all the time. i used a few of my fave smuts as reference for this so if u notice a similarity or two that’s why. anyways hope u all enjoy!!

DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI

"is there something wrong?" jing yuan, once again, called you into his office. you found it odd that he was always absent yet conveniently there when you needed scolding.

during the weekly cloud knight training you got too drowned in your thoughts, causing your partner to easily take control of the duel— which was unusual, for everyone knew that you were one of the most adept among the knights, and to see you so out of form… it hasn't been just today this has happened either, ever since the run-in with kafka, you haven't been able to think straight.

it's come to the point where you were taken to jing yuan, that's when it hit you that this has gone too far. but what could you tell him? would you be able to admit to him that this man was the reason for your sudden downgrade in skill?

the mere thought of that idea had you recoiling. you were too prideful to admit that some man was making your mind so jumbled.

your silence seemed to be the exact answer jing yuan needed, you both hated and loved how well he could read you.

"maybe you should go home for the day."

"huh?" you question, perking up. "there's no need for that."

"it's obvious your mind is elsewhere, and it has been for over two weeks. i can't have you holding us back, [name]. this issue needs to be fixed. and if it means giving you a day to solve whatever this is, then so be it."

his words stung. holding us back...

you had to remember, before he was your friend, he was your general. you got too lost in the privilege of being special to him that you forgot what being under him as a subordinate was really like.

"i see..." you bowed your head, burning your gaze into the ground, trying and failing horribly to hide your emotions. "i understand, general. thank you for your consideration."

"he'll visit you." he suddenly spoke.

you jerked up, looking at your general with widened eyes. "w-what..?"

"you think that man can survive longer than two weeks without seeing your face?" jing yuan chuckled, crossing his arms.

you blinked, surprised, before you spoke in a shaky tone. "i'd like if you dropped the subject, general. i'll be taking my leave now."

he could only hum as he watched you leave.

you were quick to dress into something more comfortable as you tried erasing jing yuan’s words from your mind. you fumbled with your armor slightly, groaning in irritation. over the years, it wasn't too difficult to get used to the heaviness of your uniform, but it could still be a nuisance to you. yours was like sushang’s, lighter in weight than the average male, but you could still admit the clothing’s annoyance to you.

you approached your window, cracking it open and watched as it swayed your curtains. you could only sigh, lean against the window sill, and battle the crisis in your mind as you watched your people.

the kiss hasn't left your mind since it happened. as embarrassing as it seemed, you couldn't get blade out of your head. whether it be his haughty smirk, his voice, or his lips. you groaned and dropped your head in your hands. you didn't even notice how much it was affecting your behavior until someone as clumsy as sushang dominated the fight.

"that bastard... he has me wrapped around his stupid fucking fingers." you whispered to yourself in a low, angry voice.

for someone like blade— who before, you saw as below you— to make you feel such a way...

in front of everyone else, your pride was powerful, yet the sight of blade's face stomped it down in a mere second.

i miss him... you admitted to yourself. it was something you'd never say aloud. what the hell do i even miss...? even before the kiss, the only moments with blade were him trying his hardest to get under your skin and get reactions out of you. you'd never forget the time he grabbed your fingers through his cell bars to interlock his hand with yours.

all you could remember after that was blowing up at him, words jumbled as you tried to find an excuse for your embarrassment.

you shook your head back and forth in hope of ridding yourself of these thoughts. but even as you closed your window and laid in bed to sleep, the kiss made home behind your closed eyelids. you turned on your other side, hoping it was just you needing to get comfortable. but you felt no drowsiness.

"dammit.." you groaned to yourself, pillow tight in your grip.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying the hardest you could to put yourself to sleep, even if forcefully. all you could think of was blade and what he was doing. and it wasn't until a full seven minutes later that your body finally decided to give you the pleasure of slumber.

noises that were lost on your sleeping form resonated through your bedroom. the squeak of your window was loud, it had you shuffling in your sheets. blade at first, tried to quietly sneak through the window after finding your front door locked before deciding not to care. you didn't keep your door unlocked like he instructed, so if you woke up, that was only your karma.

but then the thought of a possible intruder getting into your house and faltered. his steps became lighter. he neared your sleeping figure and looked at you. he wanted nothing more than to disturb your sleep and kiss you breathless. but when he took another look you looked as if your sleep was exhausting you more than replenishing you. you tossed and turned, eyebrows furrowed. maybe you were having a nightmare.

well, kissing could come after. your wellbeing came first. his hand caressed your face with the intent of soothing you, yet you only jolted awake. it was dark outside, the sun finally set. you could only see your room from what the moon decided to illuminate.

but your eyes adjusted to the dark and you instantly recognized the familiar silhouette standing above you. "b-blade..?" you asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

he only hummed in response as he climbed to hover over you, not hesitating to get his face near yours. your breath started going off track instantaneously. you lazily put your fingers over his lips, trying to feebly stop him from coming any closer. he was already making your heart going crazy enough by simply being here and letting you wake up to the sight of him, you didn't need the pounding of your heartbeat resonating in your ears next.

"i-i'm not dreaming, right?"

in response blade pinched the skin of your waist that your ridden up shirt exposed. you squeaked in pain. "what the hell!?" you whisper shouted.

"you're not dreaming." he said, tone soft. you hated admitting that the sound of his voice soothed you.

blade grabbed your wrist easily, removing your hand from his face to push it against your bed, and gently laid you against your pillows with his own body, leaning over you. his hair draped over you like a curtain, leaving you with nowhere to look but him.

any earlier resistance disappeared and you gave in the second his lips brushed against yours, going lax on your bed. the hand that held yours squeezed tighter, his other hand traveling up to hold your cheek. you leaned further into him once his lips finally met yours, giving you that sweet relief of having him against you once more.

even if you tried denying your feelings, they were apparent to blade, who could easily see through you. him and jing yuan were definitely rivaling in that aspect, and you weren't sure whether or not you hated it.

he moved the hand the held your face to your back, arching you up into him. you could tell from the way he was biting your lips and caressing his tongue with yours that this might escalate. and as he kissed you even harder you admitted to yourself that you wouldn't mind if it did.

his harsh kisses were definitely waking you up from your slumbered daze, it was then that the events that transpired earlier today seeped into your mind, causing you to lose your confidence in the kiss. blade must've noticed, for he pulled away to speak, "what's wrong?"

"why... do you even like me?" you asked in a trembling voice, deciding to be straightforward. if you thought about asking him for a second longer, you would've lost the will. plus, the question has plagued your mind for awhile and you needed answers. it’s not as if you were opposed to blade taking after you, but you couldn’t understand exactly why.

he hovered over you, moving his hand and letting your back ease into the mattress to tap the back of his index finger against your lips. "there's a lot of reasons why. but one... i like seeing the different expressions you make. whether it be when i make you angry, your brows furrow and you pout your lips, and you don't even notice." he whispers, and even in the dark you can tell he's smirking.

"or... when i kiss you and you get that desperate look on your face."

desperate!? excuse me!? you screamed in your head, flushing.

"why do you ask?"

you look away, too humiliated to say a word, but you speak up anyways, "no reason. just curious..."

blade observed you, he was good at reading people. it must've came with the job. your expression was very telling, and the fact that you were having a nightmare before he arrived was a huge factor as well.

"i like you."

it was random, and it had you sputtering, but it immediately helped assure your worries. you knew blade most likely figured out what was up, or he wouldn't have said something like that out of nowhere. though, before you could savor his words, he spoke up once more.

"can i touch you?"

would he cut it out!? if he kept saying and asking things like that so boldly you'd probably explode.

"you're already touching me..." you say snottily.

"you're right, which means i basically have permission." he whispers, loosening his hold on your hand to travel down to your thighs, spreading them open sharply.

you gasped, immediately using your free hands as leverage to cover your expression.

"look at me." he demands.

"..." you peek at him through your fingers, body going weak once you catch sight of his expression. his face is so full of want, and his face adorns a small cocky smirk. you hated how it made the heat between your legs increase. you know you shouldn't be into the way he stared at you, but you really couldn't help it.

"i'm gonna touch you, okay? will you let me?"

"do whatever you want..." you reluctantly relent.

blade ignored your attempt at veiling your actual needs and traveled his fingers higher up your thigh, tugging on your bottoms. "take these off.." he mutters.

you listen and does as he says, so he lifts himself sightly to give you space to slide your shorts down your legs. he grabs them for you and throws them aside, in a rush to get his hands on you. he rubbed your bare thighs, caressing higher up, thumb catching onto the hem of your panties.

"you said i can do whatever i want, right? i'm gonna hold you to that, we might not even leave this bedroom," he says casually, not noticing your flushed expression as he continues to ramble, "you don't know how long i've wanted this. haven't seen you for days." he hisses. "ever since i kissed you, i've been thinking about your lips since."

you wrap you arms around his neck quickly, tipping your head to the side the second his lips touched your collarbone.

his admittance had your mind hazing with a heavy blanket of need and want. words started spilling out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself. you whispered desperately, "me too..! i can't stop thinking about you.. so much to the point where it's hindering my work.. why'd you take so long to come and see me?"

blade's control is wearing thin at your whiny voice, he groans out, "my job doesn't really give me leeway. but god, i wanted to see you so bad, you don't even know." he leaves light butterfly kisses from your neck to your jaw, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your thigh.

then he tugs at the hem of your shirt. "i want this off, too." next thing you know, the only thing covering you are your undergarments, but you could tell from the way he kept caressing you near your panties that those would soon join the pile.

once he threw your top aside, you bring his face to yours, instantly interlocking your lips. it was the first time you took initiation and blade couldn't help but smile into the kiss. his hand ventures higher, hands intentionally swiping over the place you needed him most before pulling back to caress your hips.

you grunt into the kiss in irritation, trying to pull his body closer to you to get that friction you crave.

blade notices, and wants to tease you more than anything, but he couldn't deny how much he missed you. once you finally let him kiss you, he swore he couldn't get enough. had you not avoided him for a good two weeks he could've had moments like this with you before his work swept him away. and going two more weeks without you made it even worse. blade could only think of how it was true that distance certainly did make the heart grow fonder.

blade uses his kiss with you as a distraction and slips his finger past your undergarments to finally touch you where you craved. you instantly pull away from the kiss with a gasp, your back arching up slightly as you whined aloud.

"so pretty." blade muttered, placing kisses on your shoulder before pulling away to watch your expressions. he could feel how his erection tightened his pants uncomfortably at the mere sight of you drowning in pleasure. "another expression to add to my list." he whispers, eyeing your face with a carnal, predatory hunger.

blade slides one finger into you and stares at the way you twitch and thrash. "w—waaait..!!" you moaned, trying your hardest to catch your breath. he ignores your pleas and speeds up the pace, slowly adding in a second finger.

with your reactions, he could tell how sensitive you were. he could only grin and think about how fun teasing you in future will be.

blade curled his fingers in a way that had you keening and flailing, trying to kick him away. he put a hand on your abdomen to still you. "nnn...noo..! if you.. hngg.. keep doing that... i'm- i'm definitely soaking the sheets..." you whimpered in a whispery voice. in response to you, he starts rubbing your clit in circular motions, your cries becoming louder.

"promise?" he kissed your cheek.

you whined more and blade buried his face in your neck, conveniently placing his ear right by your mouth. a perfect place to hear your noises at full volume. that was before you decided to go and try to cover your mouth.

the muffled noise of your cries let him know what you were trying to do immediately. he sits up to glare down at you, slowing down the pace of his fingers.

“w—what..?” you cry out, confused.

“let me hear you. if you do that again, i stop,” his voice is commanding and it has your legs trembling. you obey him easily. helplessly under his mercy, and remove your hands from your face.

“good.”

he leans down to kiss your face and continues his previous pace. you cry out in relief, feeling your peak climbing its way up.

"you'd look so pretty wrapped around me, you know?" he speaks into your skin. you whimper at that.

the rhythm of his fingers made you a moaning mess, you couldn't help but thrash and kick, the pleasure all too overwhelming— but it still wasn't enough. you desperately needed what he had hiding behind his zipper.

"cum for me..." he coos softly into your ear, voice condescending yet fond at the same time.

"i— i want..."

"i know..." he cuts you off, "i'll stuff you with my cock like you want, just cum on my fingers first." he rasps, letting you know he was enjoying this just as much as you.

he curls the pads of his finger against a certain spot that makes you jerk in his hold. a loud moan leaves your lips and you try your hardest to push him away. blade doesn't give you the chance, keeping you stilled against the bed, thrusting into you even faster. your vision goes white and the brunt of your orgasm hits you full force, you whine loudly and try your best to push blade away, weakly hitting his forearm with your fist. he helps you ride out your orgasm by rubbing your bud, watching you with a hot, burning desire. his control is on the verge of snapping. if you keep making these noises and faces he can't guarantee he'll continue being gentle with you.

"haa...hahh.." you pant loudly, chest rising up and down. “dammit, i definitely ruined that pair.”

you're too distracted to notice blade undressing himself, only opening your eyes to look at him once you hear the unbuckling of his belt.

"blade..." you cry.

he hushes you with his lips, adjusting your position once his bottoms are off— joining the pile of your clothes. you squeak at the sudden breeze of cold air once blade starts sliding your garment down your legs.

“you’re so soaked. fuck.” he mutters breathily, eyes dark. your cunt pulses at the realization that his expression isn’t only because of lust but also him trying his hardest to hold himself back.

you’re both surprised and slightly disgusted with yourself because you’re aware that if he were to snap and be extremely rough with you, you wouldn’t mind— you’d even enjoy it.

“i said you could do whatever you wanted with me, right?” you lean up and unclasp your bra, tossing it aside— you’d usually be humiliated by such boldness, but you were too busy reveling in blade’s awed expression— for once it felt like you one-upped him.

“i suggest you watch your tongue.” he grumbles, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. you’re obviously riling him up, and enjoying it to the fullest.

“but i need it, blade. you promised you’d give me your cock, didn’t you?” you whined, fully aware of your effect on him.

he huffs, shoving you down on the bed to loom over you again, before hissing, “remember who has the authority here.”

you only smirked cockily, a face blade could admit that he really liked. “well maybe you need to remind me,” you say cheekily.

blade, in response, pulls his cock out of his boxers, and it shuts you up immediately; the mere sight of it. he caught sight of your eyes glued to his length and could only smirk.

“maybe i didn’t need to remind you.” the words of ‘you reminded yourself’ went unsaid, but you both knew.

he leans down to interlock your lips and starts grinding himself against you.

there’s no way that’ll fit!! you screamed internally, it’s not like you were inexperienced, but you can say with confidence you’ve never laid with someone so well endowed.

your mind hazes as his tongue delves into your mouth, and you can’t bring yourself to worry.

the tip of his cock catches your clit and you both groan.

“stop teasing.” you complain, brows knitting together.

blade pulls away to pump himself a couple times before finally lining himself up to your slit. he sets a heavy finger right above your belly button, pressing it into your skin.

you eye the indent he creates in confusion. you try to catch his eyes but he can’t seem to pull his gaze away from where his finger is placed.

“here.”

“huh?”

“i’ll be right here.” he taps the spot again as if solidify his words into reality. you flush once you realize his implications, and as much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you knew he was probably right. with how big he was you’d probably be able to feel him in your throat. your breaths become labored at the idea of it all, anxiously waiting for him to fill you like he promised.

“give me a safe word.” he says, voice guttural.

“red!” not only did it mean stop in a lot of circumstances, but it also reminded you of his eyes.

with that being said, he pushes himself into you, burying himself in to the hilt. your eyes roll back and you grip his biceps to ground yourself.

“you can take all of me, right?” he asks huskily, grabbing your hips for leverage and setting his forehead against yours.

“i can i can, i can!!” you chant out dizzily, on cloud nine from this alone.

“good.. so good for me.” he whispers through gritted teeth. he pulls out till the tip, groaning at the harsh resistance. it’s either you were too tight or he was too big. he assumes it’s because you’re squeezing the life out of him but you’re guessing otherwise.

he abruptly thrusts all the way back in, slamming you against his pelvis. you jerk in his hold, tears lining your bottom lashes as you sob loudly.

blade repeats the process, but this time with more ferocity. your mouth waters at the intensity of it all, eyes rolled back to your brain. he catches your expression and decides he won’t have mercy on you as he previously insisted.

the only thing leaving your lips is a mantra of his name as he starts a rhythm. he doesn’t spare you a single breath, his own lungs drying up and in desperate need for air— because he’s just so deep.

he slams into you harshly, your clit rubbing onto his pelvis with each grind into you, your sobs resonate through the room and your legs twitch violently.

“fuuuckkk! blade blade, blade!! cant! i cant.. i— nnnn!!” your nails dig into the muscles of his arms, making crescent shaped dents.

“you can. you promised, right? you’ll cum for me just like this, right sweetheart?” he coos condescendingly.

the mean tone of his voice is lost on you, for all you can think about is the term of endearment— you squeeze him harder.

“shitttt.” blade groans at the sensation. he grabs your face desperately, locking lips with you to hide his noises. it’s a sloppy kiss, your own drool slipping down your chin. you can’t even focus on the raunchiness of it all, the way he slams down into you— tip of his cock kissing your cervix— you can’t bother to think of anything else. you moan breathily into the kiss, hands gravitating to blade’s back to let your nails make their mark there.

“you like that, huh? when i call you sweet names? tell me you like it, baby,” he says, lidded eyes trained on you.

“i love it!”

his hand travels between your bodies to make circular motions on your clit, other hand massaging your breast, and you swear you see white. squeaky little ‘blade blade, blade!’s come out of your puffy, swollen lips.

“want me to cum inside you? give you my kids.. let them keep you company while i’m gone. you’d like that, yeah?” he pulls away from you slightly to babble senselessly— his mind mush, and mouth running on auto pilot. his words set a fire off inside you, and the knot in your tummy tightens further, on the brink of snapping.

“yes yes, yes!” you sob, your nails raking up and down his back.

“course you’d like that. look at you, my little cocksleeve. you were made to take my cock, admit it.” he grabs your face with one hand, squishing your face together. your moans take on a different tone at his degrading.

“i was.. ohhhh— i—” you couldn’t even finish, the tip of his cock kissing and stroking your sweet spot. blade doesn’t like your lack of answer, so his hips slow their pace, dropping to mere strokes.

“n—no, what..?” you blink out of your daze, your pleasure riddled mind slowly coming to.

“answer me, i asked you a question.”

desperate to get the pleasure you were quickly becoming addicted to, you obey his needs without another word.

“i’m your cocksleeve! i was made just to take your cock. so please! use me!” you cry out in little to no hesitation.

“fuck.” he mumbles. before you can exhale you’re immediately inhaling from the shock of his abrupt, sharp speed. he’s drilling into you harshly, lifting your legs and arching your back to hit your sweet spot with each thrust. his thumb finds your clit and your mind instantly blanks.

the quickness of it all quickly overwhelms you and your orgasm climbs the ladder with quick succession. you’re sobbing now, nails making red lines on his back as he pounds into you.

you can feel him in your stomach. and you knew if you were able to keep your eyes open, you’d be able to see it too.

“please let me cum, i wanna cum!” you cry out brainlessly.

“fuck. fuuckkk. cum, pretty thing. cum on my cock so i can cum deep inside you.” he buries his face in your neck, kissing dark purple blemishes into your skin.

his voice does you in, the roughness of it all, and the fact that he sounds just as wrecked as you. you’re only able to give a whiny warning of, “cumming— i’m cumming!! ohh god!!” before you finally burst. your body convulses brutally and you squeeze blade in a vice grip, punching out a guttural groan from him.

the feeling has blade reaching his peak before he can even compose himself. his hips stutter and he’s slamming into you, gripping your hips harshly — which will definitely leave bruises— and his finger rubs your clit to help you ride out your high.

“fuck fuck, fuck. fuuuckk. i’m gonna fill you up just like you want. make you round with my kids. gonna give it all to you. you’ll take it, right? you’ll take it all, i just know it,” he chants, mind blank.

“please, blade— ohhh goddd, please fill me up!!” you sob, tears running down your cheeks.

one last slam of his hips has him filling you up to the brim. more more, more— until his burning hot cum squelches out of you and drips onto the sheets. it prolongs your orgasm and you’re whining at the feeling. small praises leave blade’s lips as he leaves small kisses all over you.

he sits up and slowly pulls out of you, watching, entranced, as all of his cum slowly seeps out. with an empty mind that’s only filled with the image of you, he puts his fingers in your cunt to plug you up and prevent anything else from draining out.

a spike of pain and pleasure shoot through you. your mind starts clearing and you squeal, “hey!!”

he meets your gaze, eyes your messy form, and says simply, “sorry.” he pulls away.

blade hated that you looked so good that way. your body riddled with sweat, brows furrowed, lips pouted (that expression he loved so much), and hair mussed all over your pillows.

you can’t tear your eyes away from how he stares at you. this time, you notice the fondness that swim in his irises and your tummy flutters. your lips curl into a sweet smile and you speak to sweep away your embarrassment, “you’re really obsessed with me.”

blade’s eyes widen, and you assume it’s because of your words; but you couldn’t be any more wrong.

this is the first time you’ve smiled like that in his presence. he couldn’t deny that he loved your other faces, whether it be anger, prideful, lust, you name it. but this one… it was definitely his new favorite.

you predicted he’d say something along the lines of, “i am.” and make you further embarrassed. but if anything, he said the opposite.

“spread your legs.” he orders simply.

you blink at him, noticing his eyes that filled with desire once more.

“y—you can’t be serious!!!”

taglist : @chalksdreams @bloo-wisteria @maddymints09 @just-simping-over-genshin @xiaowatching @sunsethw4 @caesadele @forsh4dow @i-x4o @shrimp-anon some of u i couldn’t tag sorryyyyy ☹️

[promitto-amor]

How lucky you are to have me

Pairing: Mark Hoffman X You

Summary: You save Hoffman from the bathroom and he is eager to make up for lost time.

Warning: SMUT! Swearing (Hoffman says fuck alot, it's canon), gore/death references.

Alrighty it was about time I wrote a smutty Hoffman fix while I'm still in my Saw era. And I get to write my own little 'Hoffman escapes the Bathroom', because we all know it's happening! Enjoy kittens.

You could hear his screams from down the dank corridor. They sounded hoarse, no doubt from the wildfire rage that often consumed him these days. Your footsteps echoed loudly, at every corner you thought someone may jump out and apprehend you, but the route was void of all life. All that remained was darkness and a trail of dried blood.

You press your palms against the industrial door and give it a push. It doesn’t move an inch. The Doctor had been certain that there would be no escape.

The screams from inside stop as you slot a hairpin into the lock and after a couple tries you hear that telltale click. You heave the door open only to recoil at the stench of decayed flesh and death that greets you.

Shoving your sleeve in front of your nose, you walk into a nightmare. It’s dark enough that only outlines are visible, a line of cracked mirrors, a toilet, pipes, skeletons. Fishing in your coat pocket, you shine your torch around the bathroom and it lands on a skeletal foot. You almost drop it in your haste to move away, as you venture deeper into the bathroom. Goosebumps arise on your forearms at the disconcerting sound of a chain slithering through the dark.

“Took you long enough.”

You run your torch up bare feet and a shackled ankle, continuing upwards. Mark Hoffman flinches as your torch hits his face and you lower it to his chest, “I had to be sure they’d all left.” You return, taking a glance over your shoulder. “I’m taking a colossal risk myself.”

“Then get me out quick.” He hisses, dropping his eyes to the shackle.

“What happened to your grand plan?”

Hoffman holds up a key, “New shackle. No fucking keyhole.”

You make a sympathetic noise which deepens Hoffman’s scowl, “How lucky you are to have me.”

You drop your backpack beside him and root around inside. Hoffman watches your every move. You hand him the torch, “Shine this in the bag, will you?” He does as asked, “What did you bring?”

“I wasn’t sure what I’d be facing.” You take out an angle grinder and a grin winds onto Hoffman’s face. You switch it on and the sound of the churning saw blade sounds far too loud. You glance up at Hoffman, “If I cut you, it isn’t intentional.”

Hoffman looks like he has half a mind to yank the angle grinder out of your hands, but instead he swallows and takes a measured breath, “Just do it.” You lower the saw blade and almost miss his last few words, “I trust you.”

Steeling yourself, you align the circular saw blade with the steel and keeping a firm grip, start slicing through the shackle. There’s already chaffing around his ankle, no doubt from Hoffman’s attempts to free himself in the hours before you arrived. You hardly breathe as the blade works through and then you pull the saw blade back when there is only the smallest join of steel left hanging together. “Maybe I should have just cut the chain and we deal with the shackle later?”

Hoffman seizes the shackle and gives it a brutal tug. The shackle snaps and you wonder whether it was weakness in the metal from how much you’d sawed through, or Hoffman’s adrenaline-fuelled force that gave him his freedom. You switch off the angle grinder and shove it back in your backpack as Hoffman stands. He throws the chain away from him and then he’s towering above you. His broadness always throws you off-kilter, no matter how many times you stand before him. The circle of light from the torch jumps around the bathroom as Hoffman takes a step closer. He seizes you by the back of your neck and crushes his lips to yours. You can’t move, not with the death grip he has on you. You had no chance to breathe before it happens, leaving you to make a pathetic noise for Hoffman to release you. You disconnect with a gasp and take a deep breath before yanking him in by his jacket for a second kiss. Your hands grip onto him for dear life as Hoffman secures his own round your waist.

This time he’s the one to break the moment, “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

You’re more than eager to leave the foul bathroom behind. You can’t imagine Hoffman stuck in there slowly wasting away. A man so powerful and dangerous he brought an entire police precinct to the verge of extinction. You still don’t know if fear or admiration drives your lust for him. A heady combination of both pools inside you as you loop your arm in his and the two of you make your way back through the maze of corridors as fast as you can. “We should burn it to the fucking ground.” Hoffman says as you both emerge from the trapdoor.

“Enough fires for one day.” You say, leading the way to your car parked out front. “The Doctor got paged for surgery, but his lackey’s might come back.”

“Doubt it,” Hoffman returns as you open the car door for him. “He made sure I’d die in there. He just didn’t know about you.”

You take the driver’s seat as Hoffman slides in with a grunt. You lock the doors and glance over your shoulder as you reverse out, “If it were me, I’d stake out for two, three days. Knowing your survival rate, I’d make sure you were dead.”

There’s a beat of silence, “Then I’m glad it wasn’t you.” Hoffman returns, looking out the window.

You clamp down on a smile as you head back to your own apartment. Now and then you check in your mirrors that you aren’t being followed. Your house is roughly forty five minutes away from the Nerve Gas House, but the drive goes fast. Hoffman spends the time calculating. Occasionally his eyes slip over to you and you meet his gaze. He’s just as impatient as you.

When you finally enter familiar streets, you speak up, “I was thinking Chicago.” You prompt, “Another city, lots of people to disappear in. Or Florida, no one asks questions there.”

“I don’t care where we go.” Hoffman returns, “So long as I can put Jigsaw behind me.”

You have to admit you’re relieved to hear it, “You promise that?”

Hoffman waits for you to meet his gaze. He nods, “I lost sight for a while,” He says, “But not again.” His gaze returns to the window, now streaked with rain. “I want out. He can have it all, it’s not fucking worth it.”

“It never was.”

You pull into the driveway and park, “Open the glove box.” You order and Hoffman smirks at what he finds. He holds the gun with such a practised hand, adopting a casually defensive walk as he scopes out the house. You walk in front with Hoffman backing you up, better the Detective wield the weapon than you. As soon as the door is open Hoffman is pushing you inside and slamming the door shut. He slides the lock in place as you shed your coat and hang it up. When you turn back round Hoffman’s hands are already preying at your waist. His lips descend to your neck and you let him have access to all of you.

His touch grows desperate, tugging at your shirt, “We should see to your ankle.” You say, but Hoffman silences you with his lips again.

“Later.” He commands and you let him press you into the wall besides the coat rack. You unzip his jacket and heave it off his broad shoulders, dropping it on the floor behind him. Hoffman pushes his body against you, you can feel him hard. You lift your arms obediently as your shirt is removed, which earns you a gruff, ‘good girl’ from the impatient Detective. Your hands descend to his jeans zipper as Hoffman’s hands roam over your shoulders, down to your back and then he’s got your bra dangling from one hand. He tosses it with his jacket, Hoffman’s lips travelling from your neck to your collarbone. A whine escapes you as he suckles there, adding to the bruises he left only days ago on your skin. Fuelled by your noises, Hoffman’s restraint snaps. With a couple tugs your trousers are by your ankles and Hoffman winds one of your legs around his waist.

His low groan brushes against your lips, “Bedroom.”

It isn’t a question, but you nod anyway and Hoffman throws you over his shoulder. The world tips upside down as a laugh escapes you. Any other time Hoffman might have slapped your ass, but tonight he’s all about urgency. The bedroom door thuds open and then you’re being dropped on the bed harsh enough that you bounce on impact. Hoffman tears his hoodie off and off with it comes the dark shirt underneath. You smirk at the sight before you, a shirtless ex-Detective, his chest heaving from the night’s ordeal. Your eyes drop to his full pecs and on catching where your stare has gone, Hoffman smirks when your eyes meet his again.

“The longer we leave that ankle the more likely it’ll get…”

Your words die when his jeans come off and in the blink of an eye, Hoffman has crawled on top of you. He pecks your lips, “Doll, shut the fuck up.” He leaves more kisses with each word, between your breasts, on your stomach and then just above where your panties rest. You suck in a breath of apprehension as Hoffman’s eyes shine with desire. He dips lower, parting your legs. You take a sharp intake of air as you feel his tongue lick a hot stripe over your clothed vagina.

“Oh wow,” Your hand rakes into Hoffman’s hair, “Please…”

You keep your eyes on the ceiling as Hoffman continues to lap at you. Tingles of pleasure spike through your system and your fingers tighten their hold. Gentle fingers slide your panties off, but you daren’t look at him. Hoffman delicately traces his tongue along your most sensitive area before close his mouth over your clit. Your back arches, sensations pinging in your synapses as he starts sucking at you. He chuckles darkly, “Always the same reaction,” He mouths, placing a kiss just above your centre and then his face is centimetres away from yours. 

“Because it always feels so good.” You reason, stroking over his scarred cheek as you try to catch your breath. You feel him hard against your thigh as Hoffman lines up with your entrance, “Already?”

“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t wait.” He murmurs, already pushing in. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders and your mouth falls open. The sting of Hoffman’s cock stretching you intensifies everything. A couple tears leak out and Hoffman’s eyes widen, “Fuck.” His head falls to your neck and with a quick thrust you cry out as he sheathes himself fully inside you. It’s like you’ve flipped a switch, your glassy eyes and sheer vulnerability pushing Hoffman into a frenzy. His hips thrust hard against yours, eager to fill you with as much of him as you can take. The bed shunts against the wall as he fucks you hard enough that it’s better to rest your head on the pillow than try to meet his eyes again. You can hear his grunts of pleasure in your ear as Hoffman swells, a litany of filth spilling from his lips. “That’s it. Fucking take me. Gonna enjoy every second.”

“Please,” You’ve lost all coherency. All you can do is let him fuck you into the bad and take what he needs. Your hands fall to either side of you and Hoffman takes advantage of your submissiveness. His big hands take a wrist each as he uses the new leverage to bend one of your knees with his leg. The deeper penetration makes you jolt as your orgasm bursts fast and staggering enough that your brain feels like it’s melting.

“That’s it.” Hoffman continues, his voice strained as he too draws nearer his finish. “My beautiful fucking wife, always there when I need you.”

“Always,” You bleat as your husband cums deep inside you. His grunts turn to laboured breaths, as Hoffman sags and gives into his exhaustion. Your hands cradle his head as you hold him close. In the afterglow of your orgasm more tears prick at your eyes. Holding him now, treasuring the stroke of luck that was on your side, despite all of Hoffman’s careful planning. You could have lost him so easily. So many scenarios could have put you in that wretched bathroom alongside him.

When your clarity returns, Hoffman is slowly pulling out and rolling onto the space beside you. You curl over so you can settle in his arms, like every night. His fingers play absently with the closest strands of hair he can find, “I mean it.” He murmurs, “I’m done. Tomorrow we’re getting out of the state, laying low.”

“How are we gonna do that?” You ask, “You’re the most wanted man in the country and me by association.”

“I know someone.” Hoffman says, placing another kiss to your forehead. “Ex-military, Iraq. He has connections and owes me for keeping quiet.”

You can’t help a sigh, but it is for the best, “So long as you put the games behind you, that’s all I ask for.”

“You and me.” He nods, “Like before, like it should have been always.” Your eyes get heavy and Hoffman drapes the blanket you both keep on the end of the bed over you both. You look up at your husband, but Hoffman is lost in thought. After a couple minutes he looks down at you, “Perhaps I can cut a deal.”

“You’d have to have something huge to barter with.”

Hoffman smirks, “I reckon I could work something out. There’s a Doctor and his little Pigheads I’m sure they’d love to hear about.” 

[chronically-ghosted]

you call and I come running

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 8K

summary: a drunken confession leaves you and Javi on unsure ground. When an on the run narco douses you in an unknown, off-market drug, Javier has to save you by doing the one thing that may truly well and good fuck him over.

warnings: sex pollen, dub con due to sex pollen, minimal plot scaffolding to hold up a gratuitous amount of porn, minimally edited, feral!javi is best javi, the barest hint of breeding kink, not really butt stuff more like butt touching, light angst, no use of y/n, spanking

a/n: comes from @perotovar 's ask for my 100 follower milestone event: hi there! congrats on your milestone!! i saw your prompt list and saw "I’m so sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit." and "A whispered, “Fuck, can we do that again?” against the other’s lips." and thought it would be a really good combination for either javi p or max p? which ever one you feel fits better! 😊 (as for smut, only include it if you think it works!)

🤍Masterlist 🤍AO3 Link 

Bogota was begging for rain. At the end of summer, the city and its people had been suffering months of stifling, thick, humid air without a drop of relief. Sweat clung to exposed skin, dampening shirts and tightening waistbands. Heat weighed like a physical presence in the air while open windows and doors sought to tempt in some non-existent breeze, hoping to coax some pity out of the militant heatwave. But the heat and the moisture-thick air stayed, hovering like a cloud of mosquitoes, just as merciless and just as blood-thirsty. 

Night offered no consolation either. Stagnant and cloistered, the sun-bleached air greeted its visitors with a great, warm lick – like the wide tongue of a particularly aggressive bloodhound. The ongoing joke among the locals blamed the blackouts on all the fans, spinning throughout all hours of the day and night, instead of el gobierno barato. Only then came the sigh of ease, in front of whirling blades with ice water behind them. Flapping shirts and mopped brows. Only then, was there relief to the tension. 

Unfortunately, a running car would tip off any narcos in the area, so even that small miracle is denied to the two agents sitting in the darkness of la calle. A crack in the glass window releases a tendril of smoke, not enough to expect a breeze, not enough to wipe away the smear of sweat from across forearms and under knees. 

A drunken confession lingers even thicker in the air.

You thought you could do this. You really thought nothing would change – it was an accident after all. He didn’t mean it – he couldn’t – he was just teasing you, when he leaned over the sticky fourtop in the back of the bar at three in the morning, his breath tangy with the ghost of four glasses of whiskey, his body heat immense and overwhelming as he pressed into you and said – 

Whatever he said, you told him no.

Actually, you laughed and then said no. No, because he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t, he was just teasing you and he would never, ever, ever, ever know how much you actually wanted it and even if – even if you both wanted it, it could never, ever, ever, ever happen. 

It couldn’t. It was so absurd for him to even consider it, you laughed.

And then he never looked at you the same way.

You had done something irreversible. He had said the words, but you had done something irreversible to him. 

Something in the air had changed, maybe forever. And that, that you might have lost your partner, your friend, potential potential potential disappearing in a cloud of Marlboro smoke over bottles of cerveza, that was the worst part. 

He doesn’t look at you the same way.

Or at all. 

He smokes and he watches and he acts like you’re not in the seat next to him. Like his confession hasn’t cleaved him apart.

Nothing’s moved in hours. Neither the target or the shadows in the car. The tension presses up against the windows, hot and stifling. There is no relief.

“I didn’t want it like this, you know,” you say to the sun visor, arms crossed, low in your seat. “I . . . tried to see if Murphy would switch, but I didn’t think the tip would pan out so fast, and I didn’t . . . I didn’t want . . .”

The shadow next to you emerges with his face as he brings the glowing orange light of the cigarette to his mouth. Full lips, short thick hair below his nose, a jawline sharper than any hit of cocaine. 

“What did you expect?” he asks, his voice thick and heavy like oil. It clings to you.

You scowl into the darkness beyond your window. “For Murphy to me a fucking solid, for once. Covered his ass more than once after they adopted Olivia. I just wanted one goddamn –,”

He forcefully flicks the stub of his cigarette out the window as a precursor to punctuate his next sentence. “No. What did you want, if you didn’t want it like this?” 

The acidity in his tone stings you and you unintentionally flinch as if he had pressed the cigarette nub into your skin. 

“Javier, c’mon, that’s not fair.” 

He arches one eyebrow, his teeth clenched in his jaw, hollowing out a pocket of skin below his temple. The overhanging orange streetlights sap the color from his skin.

“So you get to make all the rules now. Got it.” He crunches up the empty box of cigarettes and chucks it in the back seat. You watch him with narrowed eyes as he settles back against the seat with his arms crossed. 

“Why do you have to make this difficult?” You snap. “You know this isn’t easy for me either.” 

“But it is easier than the alternative, right?” After two hours of ice cold silence, he finally looks at you and you can feel the spike of frost in your chest. The twitch in his jaw is the rage in his eyes taking physical form. “Easier than . . . trying. Right?” 

He looks away, already having confessed too much with whisky on his breath, and he can’t afford another slip-up. He knows this. You know this. You want to reach out and touch him but you worry he might physically slap you away if you do. You’ve hurt him in places Javier Peña doesn’t like to admit he has. 

“It’s not that simple,” you say to his thigh. “And you know it.” 

His jaw twitches again. “I’m not asking for your goddamn hand in marriage. I’m just — sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit. I want –,”

“No.” You say and you can feel the word imprint under your sternum. “There’s too much at risk. We’ve been in this fight for too long to get benched and if Noonan even gets a whiff of anything out of whack with her agents, she’ll . . . I want to, Javi, can’t you see that? I really want to – in case I didn’t make that crystal fucking clear. I want to, but there’s no trying for people like us. In a place like this.” The firm weight in your voice pushes on something that makes him look at you again. That rage has dissipated, melted, leaving only a corporeal ache. His brown eyes were endless in their confusion, their disappointment, their hurt. Please, he begs without words. You swallow, your thumbnail digging into your palm to keep yourself from launching yourself across the bench seat of his truck and into his lap. “I want to, Javi. I want . . . you.” 

He drops your gaze as if it burned him. He shifts back, hand coming up to cover his mouth, the side of his knuckle rubbing his upper lip as if coaxing whatever was sitting just behind his teeth back down his throat. 

Javier stares out into the oppressive Bogota night, his clavicle dewy with sweat and he shakes his head.

“Save it.”

You actually flinch. God, you knew it was going to hurt but you never thought it would hurt this much. Hurts so much it claws up your chest with cut-metal knives until you can’t breathe. Until you can’t see as tears flood your eyes.

“Javi, please.” Your voice is calm, despite the small implosion in your chest. “Don’t–,”

“No, I mean – look.” He points out across the dashboard.

The door that has been shut tight for the past three hours has opened. El Corto, a man who lives up to his name, pokes his round face around the edge of the door, glancing up and down the street with the paranoia of someone who trafficks drugs for a living. You turn your head into your shoulder to act like you are adjusting the firearm on your hip to wipe your eyes. Beside you, Javier turns the safety of his handgun and slips it into the back of his jeans.

“You good?” He sounds like Javier, your friend, and that swell of confidence gives you the strength to kick down a door into a whole nest of narcos. You meet his eyes and nod. 

The air is no cooler out in the open when you slip out of Javier’s truck into the dark night of Bogota. Javier strides across the black street, eyes just as fast as El Corto, paranoia just as high. There’s never any telling if the narcos are alone and that’s why you hang back just a bit, eyes on Javier and a dozen other places. 

“El Corto,” Javier snaps, sharp and demanding. The voice of authority. The narco freezes, narrow shoulders going taught. You keep eyes on his hands, your own hovering over your weapon in case he chooses to go for his. “Ven aquí. Tenemos algunas–,”

Without warning, El Corto takes off running, darting off down an alleyway. 

“Fuck,” Javier hisses and pulls his shirt out of his pants, experience the cruelest teacher. But you’ve already passed him –  running your favorite way to unwind, train, and way to avoid your problems, tearing down the alleyway after the shadow sprinting into the night. 

There is something singular about running that is more addicting than any drug the narcos peddled. A chosen target. A finite end. The only thing you had to count on, the only thing to worry about, is how hard you had to pump your arms, the length of your stride, the control of your breathing. Hunting down narcos was a breeding ground for chaos. But not this. This made sense. 

El Corto, despite having about half your stride, makes up for his short stature with speed. You catch only a glimpse of his jacket, then his shoe. A mile through an empty street and he finally comes into view. You’re gaining on him. The unrestrained creature in your chest roars and blocks out the searing pain in your calves, under your ribs. God, you swear you can almost smell him.

Maybe all animals, big or small, can sense the moment before the trap ensnares around them because without warning, El Corto darts left, leaping over a wrought iron fence into the lower levels of an apartment building. He’s gone before you can blink.

Snarling, you squeeze the fence railing as you tuck your legs over it, the momentum of your run clearing you from the tips. 

A voice in your head and possibly behind you is yelling at you to wait, don’t go inside without backup, but you can’t stop. You can’t help it. If you can’t have who you want, this is what you want. This is what you need.

And you need a fucking win. 

You burst through the screen door to an empty concrete room – torn carpet, wall paint chipped away, maybe an old living room – a flash of jeans around the hallway at the end giving a fraction of an indication of your target. So you take off after him, rounding the corner. You watch as he nearly runs through a faded yellow door, the wood cracking and splintering from the force as it slams open into the wall. The door ricochets off the wall, nearly slamming close again, just as you reach it, but the brunt of your shoulder knocks it back again.

And something cracks you across the chest. 

Powder. Blue. Lots of it.

You stumble, your eyes and nostrils burning, as it seizes in your lungs. You cough and hack, trying desperately to unseal it from your lungs, but it barely budges, barely slides loose. Blind and gasping from the heat of your run and through the powder, you veer off course, stumbling into what feels like boxes. Your knees tremble, suddenly unsteady on your feet. 

Through your watery eyes, you watch as El Corto drops the plastic bag that used to contain the powder, a malicious glint in his eyes.

“Puta,” he spits, the slur hardly original for a female DEA agent. He steps back and sheds the gloves you didn’t realize he had been wearing, still watching you with twisted interest. 

You’re no longer coughing, but the air still hasn’t settled in your body. You feel the heat in your lungs rise, expand, then fall, against your skin, as if it is in sync with your heartbeat. With every breath, a sour, sticky warmth presses against every joint in your body, every bone. There’s a knot building at the base of your spine, tightening your hips, and you stumble until you’re seated on one of the boxes, which you now see as packing crates. 

You swallow but your mouth is dry. Head heavy. Distant. Your eyes feel swollen in your skull.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” you whisper. 

He’s not scowling at you, you realize, he’s leering. Eager. Excited. He takes a step towards you. 

A floor above, you hear the sound of the door being breached and Javier calling out your name. El Corto scowls, as though his favorite toy had been taken away, before he tears himself away to the narrow window on the other side of the room. More shipping crates have been stacked against the wall and El Corto scurries up it, unlatching the window. He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder at you.

“Diviértete para mí, putita,” he waves with three fingers as Javier crashes into the room, his gun raised. He spots El Corto just as he slips up through the narrow window – the space no bigger than the width of a child – his foot kicking down the tower of boxes. Javier nearly nabs his ankle, leaping up the concrete wall, as the narco disappears into the night.

His open palm striking against the humid wall is a wet slap. “Fuck,” he snarls, this time pounding with the heel of his fist, “we almost fucking had him. What the fuck ha–,”

He turns and meets your gaze for the first time. His mouth drops in horror.

Sweat blooming across your forehead, you lean over on a crate, limbs trembling, breathing uneven. Every scrap of fabric over your skin burns, your thighs burn, your blood burns, you are burning. The sweat peaks in droplets that run down the back of your neck, under your armpits. Whatever he hit you with makes you want to take off every inch of your clothes –maybe then you could fucking breathe – but even then, it wouldn’t be enough. 

He’s got you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him, before you realize what’s happened.

“Talk to me.” Javier snaps, that authoritative force sharp and demanding, and it sends an aching bolt between your legs. You whimper in pain, your eyes fluttering. He shakes you. “Stay awake and tell me what happened. I need you to focus. ”

Your lips feel puffy, overripe and ready to split, your jaw tight and throbbing. “H-h-hit m-me with blu-ue – don’t–don’t know what i-it is.” 

Javier steps closer and the scent of his cologne hits you like a train. Groaning, a strange, unwelcome instinct yanks your head down into the curve of his neck, the source of the smell. The touch of his skin beneath your lips is a balm – cool egg yolk over a fresh burn – and you bury your face in deep.

“Oh, fucking Christ, Javi.” Your voice trembles, wavering down into a low moan. That same alien instinct latches your hands over his shoulder, nails digging into the cotton. But it’s not alien, you realize through the muggy, humid fog in your mind – you know this feeling. You are intimately aware of the coiling knot between your legs, your soaked underwear, the tightness of your nipples. But this can’t be happening. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t hurt like this. 

You gasp, in real pain, a throb that starts clenching your cunt before rippling up your spine and locking your shoulders. You hunch against him, waiting for the contraction to pass. 

“What is it?” Javi holds you, panic evident in his voice. You swear you can hear his heartbeat in his neck. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, goddamn it.” He demands with no bite in his command. 

He peels you off him, you hiss, ripped out of the soothing embrace of his arms, and he makes you look at him. His eyes are wide, mouth twitching. The entirety of his chest is blue, most of powder from your skin covering his shirt.

He cups your cheeks, trying to see if the powder has left an acid burn, as another wave hits and you lock your body, now a battleground against the strangling desire to turn your face into his wide palm and inhale. There’s liquid making the crotch of your pants sticky and it’s embarrassing. It’s mortifying and silly and the ounce of sanity still left in your head keeps an iron grip on every muscle in your body – sanity telling you to not fucking do this. Don’t do this to him. Not when it would mean so much to him.

To you. 

But fuck, you want it. You need it. You might actually die without it.

Tears spring into your eyes, making a gooey muck as they slide down your cheeks and mix with the powder. Whatever this is, you have to fight it.

His eyes dart to your tears, the little bit of powder still on your face, and without thinking, he brushes your tears away with his thumbs.

Sanity cracks the whip – if it gets on him, then –

With the last ounce of strength, you shove him back, as far away from you as you possibly can. The second his warmth is gone from your skin, you tremble and your knees give out. Fresh tears, spurred on by the pain, by the fear, by the shame, spill from your eyes and you curl up against the wall. 

“D-don’t, Javi, don’t. I th-think it’s t-t-transderm-mal–,”

“What do you–,”

You watch helplessly as his pupils contract and then expand wildly, black swallowing that aching brown. He shakes his head like a bewildered animal, sweat already bleeding across his skin, and he stumbles back onto a springy metal cot on the opposite wall. He blinks, hand tightening around his knee. It makes his forearm flex and you have to physically close your eyes, the sight forcing your cunt to clench down on nothing. 

“What . . . what the fuck is this shit?”

You bite your lip, your chin tucked to your shoulder as your body cramps, punishing you for denying it the only source of relief. You squint at him and see he’s half-hard in his jeans. You whimper.

“I-I don’t know . . . new– new party drug?” You grunt, your head thrown back against the wall. God, your skin is going to melt right off your bones.

“This is way fucking worse than ecstacy,” Javier murmurs, his jaw tight. “Fuck, got a bit on me, but you . . .”

He blinks at you, eyes glassy, with sudden and total understanding, with perfect clarity why you shoved him away, and what exactly you need. 

He murmurs your name and you gasp, another cramp yanking new tears down your cheeks. 

“J-Javier,” you swallow thickly, “I know what I s-said before, a-and in the car, but if you ever cared about me, p-please . . . please, just –,”

You can’t encompass all that you need into words, but you hope he understands, is feeling kind despite all that you had done to him. Your bones ache, skin too tight.

He shakes his head, but weakly, his eyes caught on your throat, the wetness clinging to your lips. “You’re just saying that because of the drugs. We have to call Murphy. Get us to a hospital or something.”

“Javi,” you whine and maybe it is the drugs, or maybe he has an inkling of how much it hurts, but he’s across the room in an instant. He grabs you by the shoulders and hauls you to your feet. He drops his head and inhales like he can draw the heat from your blood. The tip of his nose dragged across your jaw is a cube of ice against the furnace of your skin. You shudder, hands clasping around his shoulders, dragging him against you, his hands cupping your hips as if to steady him. 

“I-I’ll give you this.” Javier Peña doesn’t stutter. Your eyelids weigh a thousand pounds as you draw your gaze up to him. “I’ll help, cariño, and then we call Murphy. Okay?” 

You nod, dizzy and overheated and sick with wanting. You nod and tilt your hips forward into his fingers as they pop open the button of your jeans. The sound of the slide of the zipper drives a shiver through you and you feel his cock, fully hard, against your thigh. 

His lips brush your cheek, his voice slurred, dripping slow in molasses, sweet and dark. “I’ll help. I’ll give you what you need.”

The first press of his fingers against your pussy rubs slippery and wet. With a sigh of relief, you drop your head against the wall, hips shoving into his hand, begging for more.

“Fuck,” he wheezes. “You’re already soaking.”

“More, Javier, more.” 

He grinds his cock against your thigh to soothe his own ache. He nods slowly as if dazed, his eyes locked onto to where his hand disappears inside your jeans. “Y-yeah, okay.”

If any hesitation remains, it’s gone when he sinks two fingers inside of you and taps up. You moan and he shoves his knee between your legs. 

“You like that, pretty girl? Does that help?”

“Yes,” you gasp into his neck, his fingers rocking into you. “Yes, Javier, yes!” 

His touch douses the ache, the fire, across your skin, in your spine. With every snap of his wrist, he draws away the heat from your exposed, too-sensitive nerves, easing the lighting storm in your low stomach. The noises you’re making, the noises your cunt makes against his fingers – it should embarrass you, should draw red up into your cheeks and ears, but it’s just more release. You yowl like an animal in heat and Javier’s groin jerks against you. You gain enough sentience to realize he’s fucking you with his jeans on up the wall, his hand never slowing or easing. You can feel yourself gush between his knuckles. 

“You’re almost there, muñeca, I can feel it. Just give it to me. Come for me,” he pants into your clavicle, the spread of bone across your chest. You tighten at the thought of his breath against your nipples, his teeth on the soft weight of your breast –

And you do. You come with the easy brush of his thumb against your clit. White lightning soothes the rage beneath your skin and you shudder in his arms, forehead collapsing against his shoulder. The snap of his hips against your thigh is a bruising rhythm, harsh, feral, an understanding that only something rough and wild can actually save your life. 

“Is that better, querida?” His wide palm pushes the hair back from your damp neck, cradling your heated cheek. His thumb brushes just under your bottom lip. You can feel his own fever, radiating from his skin. “Can we get you somewhere safe?”

But you’re still too high, too taut, to answer him. Another one builds, stacks up on itself every time his rock-hard cock digs into your hip. He scissors his fingers and you bear down onto his thigh. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, but without exhaustion or anger. He sounds almost gleeful. When he looks at you, his pupils are blown wide, sweat making his skin glow. The skin around his mouth is damp. “Alright, I’m not gonna stop. You can have one more. One more, querida.” 

His shoulders tense, the muscles in his back shifting, as he changes the angle of his fingers, renews the pressure of his thumb on your clit. He brushes against something deep inside of you, wet and spongy and never before reached and you arch your back in response, air sucked from your lungs. His thigh nearly lifts you off the floor. 

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” He taps the spot again and tears flood your eyes and spill down your cheeks. 

“Oh my god, Javi,” you murmur and he seems to like that. You clamp down around him and his hips stutter, his moan deep and coming from an ache in his chest. He inserts another finger and your cunt sucks him in, greedy for more. 

He eases back into his rhythm, raggedly humping your hip, the rough material of his jeans burning between your thighs. 

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he breathes. “Fuck, I knew it would fucking feel this good. You’re clenching down on me so hard, baby.” 

On the tip of your next orgasm, the haze clears for just a second and you catch him in the eye. This isn’t just the drugs, you know, this isn’t just an excuse for both of you. This is hating to see the other one in pain. This is sharing a worry for a bit of yourself that lives in another body. What passes along the length of your gaze is the exact thing you feared losing. 

Selfishly, you’d rather not have him like this, than not having him at all. 

But this is what it could be, he tells you through an open, gasping mouth, through eyes that pin you to the wall, this is what we could have every day, every night. If you just let me in. 

If you just –

“Come for me.” 

You answer with his name, on a cry high and sharp, and you’re coming – harsh, fast, exploding as you drench him, his fingers pressing roughly into that one sweet spot. 

Javi slumps forward, the weight of him nearly stifling, as he gasps, his hips stilling, stuttering, stopping. His skin flushes cold for a second, sweat cooling his fever, his face buried in your neck. 

You feel it. Against your thigh. You swallow in surprise, the fog parting briefly again. 

“Javi, did you . . .”

He wrenches his hand out of you, releasing his grip on your hip as he lowers you down. 

“I’m not fucking calling Murphy,” he grits out.

*~*~*

Javier is a man of singular focus. Almost dogged and single-minded in his hunt, it’s rare he is even capable of listening to the voice of reason. It’s a different voice than his own that tells him when he’s doing something monumentally stupid. There’s a part of him that knows exactly why that voice sounds a lot like you, unconsciously knowing that you’re the only thing that could give him pause. And yet, there are times when he can shut the voice out, can shut out everything inside of him screaming at him not to do the thing he’s going to do. But this, this decision, genuinely has him torn. There is no right way to do this.

Well, there is a right way. One where he takes you to dinner, buys you flowers, walks you home, tucks your hair behind your ear, kisses you softly at first, then rough, until you beg him to come up the stairs. Despite what some may think, he is capable of being romantic. He can be sweet. He can ask nicely. 

But that is something he is not capable of right now. 

In his post-nut clarity – because, yes, he did come in his pants like a twelve year old with his first porn mag after having his fingers up your cunt for what was all too short – he realized the room you both were in was some sort of safehouse. 

A cot against the wall. A portable stove with something in the pan black and sticky. The crates are empty of any valuables – by the shape and length, most likely guns – but the few that are still full have a few bags of that elicit blue powder. He makes a mental note, somewhere on the very distant laundry list in his brain, to take a bag – with gloves on and wrapped up in several other baggies – to have it tested at the lab. Because whatever this stuff is, it might actually be more dangerous than cocaine.

Especially to idiots like him, he thinks roughly as he yanks the thread-bare mattress off its wiry frame onto the floor. He snatches up the cotton sleeping bag at the foot of the frame and unzips it, the inside facing down. This is such a monumentally stupid idea, he knows it is, but he can already feel that cramp building up his thighs, his cock throbbing awake, arousal clamping down on the base of his spine. And he just got a whiff of it. He can’t imagine what you’re feeling already. Behind him he hears you moan softly, never one to complain or whine when things get tough or hard, so he goes faster. He tucks up the other end of the sleeping bag in what he hopes is some semblance of comfort, but he wonders if that will even matter to either of you when it hits again which, judging by how hard his cock is growing, is eminent. The wet spot on his thigh, beneath his jeans, is sticky, uncomfortable. He needs no further reason to unbutton them. 

You moan, this time louder, higher, again and he turns to face you, his shirt already undone to his stomach.

You’re pale again, skin glossy and sickly wet. When your eyes flutter open, they’re glassy, gaze distant and unfocused. You twitch when that first cramp settles in deep. He thinks, his mind not entirely his own, about how deep the clutch of your cunt sucked in just his fingers and he shivers. He simultaneously wanted to get this over with and drag it out for days. Have you beneath him for days. 

Your legs tucked up beneath you from where he laid you down, Javi approaches quietly, kneeling as he takes off his shirt and goes to untie your boots. He touches your ankle as gently as he can and you shudder, cracking an eye open. 

“Javier, it’s coming back. It’s coming back and it hurts.”

In addition to the many, many agency violations, this is monumentally stupid because he’s obsessed with you. Has been for a while. Not just in a way that makes him want to fuck you for hours flat on your back, but in a way that your smile is the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep and the first thing on his mind when he wakes up. An obsession with your wellbeing, your safety, your happiness. A persistent coiling thought about your laugh, and strength, and the way you can make grown men twice your size tremble in fear. You’re a hunter, just like him, and with your beauty – your staggering, haunting beauty – how was he not supposed to immediately attach himself to you? It came on slowly, his pathological need to be near you, and once he realized what it was, there was no going back. No turning it off. 

He didn’t mean to tell you when he was drunk, but after bagging another narco, it was like he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. A brief glimpse into a world where you both were safe, and happy, and – god willing – together and in this world, he told you and he was brave about it and you said it back and he felt warm all over. But that was not this world, not his reality. In this one, he has to save you by doing the one thing that may truly well and good fuck him over. 

“Sit up, baby, that’s it.” He eases you into his arms and it’s like his touch drags you back into consciousness. Your fingers dig into his bare arms as you take in his exposed chest. 

“Javi, fuck, I don’t wanna beg, but before when you – you – I felt better. It cleared. I don’t know why or how, but with your fingers inside m-me, it . . . helped.” 

“I know, cariño, and I want to help more.” His thumbs press up under your jaw, tilting your head up to look him directly in the eyes. There’s fear there, pain, and it’s agonizing to him. “But I don’t know if that’s what you want.” 

“What I want? Javi, I–,” your eyes widen in understanding of what he’s offering, of what he’s scared to do. What he’s scared to take without your permission. 

You swallow, a pink flush crawling up your throat. “I . . . I don’t . . . I didn’t want our first time together to be anything like this, but . . .” You shake your head, shuffling closer to him, your breathing thinning as the drugs start to strike matches against your nerves. “I just don’t want you to think it doesn’t mean anything.” 

“It’s gonna mean everything to me, no matter how I get it.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your chin, just in front of his thumb. You nod, eyes squeezing shut, as you fight this arousal that claws into your skin like meat hooks. He pulls you to your feet, holding you steady as your knees try to lock up. He unbuttons your shirt with shaking hands. 

You touch his chest like you’ve never seen a man naked before. The hesitant, awed touch of you sends all the blood still remaining in his head straight into his cock. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he murmurs to your cheek, your shirt off your body, his hands tugging your jeans down your hips. You nod again, speechless in your relief, and follow your jeans to the ground. Twisting on the nest he made for you, you slide your bra off, your nipples already tight and perk and waiting for his mouth. You huff, a sound so unlike you it makes him genuinely concerned, as the front of your panties darken again. 

“It’s okay, Javi, this is what I want. I want this.” You hate being vulnerable, he knows this, your attitude a front that leaves no room for sexist comments in the bullpen. And yet, here you are, deflowered and begging for him. You spread your legs for him, eyelids heavy, and he can smell the arousal on you. 

He drops to his knees, unsure where to start first, but the blue powder coursing through his veins demanding he puts his hands on your hips, which he finally acquiesce to. 

“I don’t think I can be gentle,” he admits quietly. He wants to nip, suck, slurp every inch of you, wants to see that perfect body bend to his will, to his turning. He wants to fuck you open and stuff himself up inside you so deep it leaves a mark. In his haze, the instinct to fuck supplies him with an image of you pregnant, bred and full of him, and his cock twitches so hard he drops onto all fours over you. 

You slip your underwear over your toes and your knees take him by the ribs.

“Please, Javi, please.” 

He knows it must hurt, must be so blindingly painful for you to beg like this. You never asked anyone for anything and that independence turned him on and frustrated him to no end. 

“Please, be rough,” you ask him from under your lashes, your body writhing beneath him. His hips, on a separate system than the rest of him, thrust the rough teeth of his zipper against your cunt and you keen, the sound imprinting into every crevice and curve of his brain. “Make it hurt.”

Oh fuck, this might actually be the thing that kills him. 

He hushes you, stills your flushed whimpering with a kiss that ends in teeth against the high curve of your cheek. He noses to your mouth, then down to your ear, where he bites on your earlobe. He’s balancing on one hand as his other tugs his jeans down and off his hips. 

He wants to fuck your tits. Come all over them, have his spend flush up your throat, your chin. He wants to come so hard he blinds you with it. And then he wants to flip you over and fuck your ass with his come-lubed dick. 

You wriggle and whine, legs wrapping around his hips, tugging him down onto you when, half-a-mind away, he realizes he just said all of that outloud.

“Yes, Javi, you can have whatever you want. Fuck me however you want.” His blood is boiling now, the white-hot bomb settling itself in the base of his spine, his balls already tight. Why he’s dragging this out is beyond him and possibly a medical detriment to you. 

“Javi, just fucking put your cock ins–,”

He watches as every conscious thought wiped from your mind, brow heavy, mouth seared open as he plugs you full of him in one rough thrust. You shudder and his elbows buckle, his body locked up tight because if he moves, if he dares to rub his cock through your velvet, hot clutch, he’ll come right there. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock makes space for itself inside you.

“Javi–,” he claps a wide palm over your mouth, his teeth straining in his jaw, his temple twitching.

“Baby, I know it hurts – I know it fucking does – but I need you to stay still.” It feels too good. You’re too hot, too slippery, and soft. He can feel the hum of words behind his fingers and he shakes his head. “Do not fucking move – I just need to – I have to –,” 

He inches in just a bit more and you both gasp to the ceiling when he bottoms out. Your rough curls against his pelvis sears him, hot and sweet like cinnamon. He drools when he thinks about eating his own come out of you.

You only get one word out, one word that sets his whole world on fire: “Please.” 

He rears back, yanks you up his thighs, hands cupping the backs of your knees and he plows into you. Your tiny fingers that have pulled countless triggers and clapped irons on criminals twitch, tightening into the smelly cotton fabric, your mouth contorted open. His pace, his thrusting, is relentless, unforgiving but the look on your face is pleased, an almost maniacal grin across your lips. 

“Oh, right there, Javi, just like that. Just like that.”

He’s faster than he is precise. Precise comes later when the bestial fog clears from his brain, when the lust bleeds out of his system, when he doesn’t want to hump you like an animal with his teeth bared and cock so deep inside of you it kisses your womb. 

Before his mind entirely succumbs to the mounting arousal, he’s grateful he had the foresight to take the mattress down. If he hadn’t, there’s a good chance he would have fuck you, the bed, and himself right through the paper-thin walls. 

And then he lets go. Lets this thing in his chest and hot behind his groin take over, lets himself indulge in whatever carnal, depraved thing sparks in his mind.

He’s fucking you so hard you’ll both have bruises by morning. 

He watches, transfixed, at the place where his soaked cock disappears through your puffy, wet lips into the mind-numbing heat of your pussy. He can’t stop watching. He barely feels your nails digging into his thighs. 

The walls of your pussy squeeze him and it makes him falter, hitch speed. His gaze is torn away and instantly, it focuses on the bounce and sway of your tits. Sweat droplets roll from your neck into the valley of your breasts and without hesitation he bends to catch them with his mouth, tugging you further down his cock. You cry out, hands digging into his hair, as his tongue drags a wet trail over the top of your breast, the tip flicking your rock hard nipple, then beneath the swell where he meets it with his teeth. 

You jerk, pleasure overwhelming. “Uh – oh – oh – fuck – Javi.” The words leave your mouth truncated, cut short by his rhythmic bouncing. He nuzzles your tit, streaking you with his own sweat, not able to stop fucking up into you to really get a good grip on your breast, but wanting to put the whole thing in his mouth. 

“I’m gonna do it right next time,” he swears fidelity to your skin. He grinds his teeth against your sternum. “Next time I fuck you I’m going to pull you apart bit by bit. Starting with these fucking tits and ending with my tongue up your cunt. Maybe your ass.”

Against his cheek, he feels your skin break out in ridges, your whole body shivering at his words. He leans up, grinning wildly and grinds particularly deep inside of you. You still haven’t fully opened your eyes.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You want my tongue up your ass. What about my cock, huh? Want my fat fucking cock inside there?” 

You whine, clawing at his chest, as you nod frantically. He could ask anything of you right now and you’d give it to him. And god, he wants so much.

“It’d hurt, baby, you know it would.”

You nod, words tumbling out of your mouth in a mindless babble. “I don’t care. I want it there. I want you inside me. I want it to hurt. I want you to fuck me raw, Javi.”

He groans, more like a growl, rapidly picking up his pace. He lifts your knees higher and fucks up, the change in angle making you moan so loudly it fills up his ears with blood.

“Tell me where you want it. Say it, querida.” 

“I want it in my fucking ass, Javi.” 

His jaw twitching, that primal, unrestrained urge in him wrapping itself around his spine, he shoves you off him. Wetness dribbles down his lap but he doesn’t let himself smell or see it for long, as he flips you onto your hands and knees, sliding in and pummeling your pussy from behind.

You whine, singing for his cock, and collapse onto your elbows, presenting your ass for him. The pair of you really are just fucking animals.

He presses his thumb to your tight hole, the wet slap of his balls against your ass suddenly the least obscene thing in the room. There’s barely enough room for his thumb there and he tips his head back at the thought that no one had ever taken you there before. His. All his and no one fucking else’s. 

“Javi,” you sob, that preening need gone from your voice as though you are begging him not to go further, but desire kept you from voicing what you actually wanted. 

His bottom lip twitches and he leans down and gently bites your shoulder, grounding you and clearing out all fear. Drugs or not, he’d never do anything you didn’t explicitly ask for, but the second this is all over, he’s going to get on his hands and knees and beg you to let him work your ass open. 

“Not tonight, cariño.” He slides his thumb out of you, his wrist twisting as he palms the meat of your ass. “But I’m not leaving this completely untouched.”

He smacks the jiggling flesh until he sees a pink hand print, earning him a yelp from you every time his palm lands. He feels fresh, sticky wetness soak his cock with each slap, enough for it to dribble down his thigh. He’s not going to shower for a week. 

The higher he climbs, the faster that animalistic heat leaves his blood. You’re not as pale as before, the skin of your back growing a nice healthy flush. As his grip around your hips tightens, he feels your cunt clench around him. If he won’t take your ass tonight, he still wants you puffy and sore. He leans back just to watch his cock pound your pink, abused hole.

“I’m close, Javi,” you admit breathlessly. He nods, leaning forward again, that image of your pussy split open for him deliciously sealed in his mind, and he drags his nose down your spine. Sweat from his chest drops and splatters against your skin.

“I know you are, I can feel it. Can I see your face? Watch you? Can I put you on top?”

You nod and he slips out of you for what he hopes will be the last time in his fucking life. He’s no longer drug-crazed, but he is drunk. Pussy drunk. Drunk on you. Imbibed by the juices trailing down his thighs. He shifts and you swing a leg over his hips, immediately swallow him deep inside you. 

Unlike the courtesy he gave you, you give him no time to adjust, grip his chest, and ride him within an inch of his life.

Your tits swinging in his face, he presses his fingers so tight into your thighs, he’ll be able to count the distinct bruises, and plants his feet. He meets you, thrust for thrust, and he watches your competitive nature battle your overwhelming chase for release. 

“Just come, cariño,” he pants. “You’ve done so good tonight. Just fucking come all over my lap. Let go.” 

His words melt something inside of you and you whimper, curling down over him, which he takes to wrap his arms around your back, and roll you under him. He kisses your chin, your temple, the corner of your mouth. His big palm cradling your head, he grinds low and deep, seeking out that place he touched with his fingers. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You can come.” He prods that spot once and it’s all over. You clamp down on his cock, milking him for all he’s worth because as you arch, mouth open, tears down your face, he comes too. He comes and he comes and he comes until he drips out of you and that breaks another orgasm across you, this one bumpy and leaves you shaking. 

He feels dizzy, unsure up from down, the loudest sound he hears is his own blood rushing in his ears. He’s never been more exhausted. 

He can hear the vibration of you saying something against his throat, but nothing is quite working like it’s supposed to, so he slumps off you, his hand never leaving your skin, as he tugs you against him.

He’ll be dried and sticky in only a few hours – you both will – but that doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that does is the feeling of your heartbeat over his. 

*~*~*

Morning, along with the scent of rain, glides in through the open window and your fingers twitch as sunlight hits you. Your eyes fluttering open, you lift your head from the sleeping bag to see wet puddles on the floor under the window, the concrete streaked and stained with water. It must have rained sometime last night and, shockingly, you didn’t hear a thing.

The heatwave had finally broken. 

It’s not until you’re full awake do you realize his hand rests in the cup of your neck, thumb rubbing smooth, soft circles into the hard knot near your shoulder blade. You smile, groaning softly, becoming more relaxed by how good it feels. 

You roll over and greet his eyes. They’re brown again, the hungry blackness gone, but leaving an edge of uncertainty in its wake. 

He wants to know how you feel about last night.

“You fucked up,” you tell him and that worried crease appears between his eyebrows. You inch closer, your hand curling up against his jaw. “All that time last night, all the time you had me under you, and you didn’t kiss me once.”

You close your eyes, drop your head, and press a fervent, determined kiss against his pink lips. You can feel it as he swallows it in, his body shifting forward, hand coming up to your hip. But just as quickly as it starts, he pulls away. 

Javier shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says almost mournfully, eyes downcast. “I don’t want to know – what you taste like, if . . . I can’t kiss you if this is the last time.”

He’s still respecting your boundary, your wishes, while coated in his release and yours. He knows he can’t be selfish with you again.

You wet your lip, hand still on his cheek. 

“Javier, you saved my life last night. That was some kind of fucked up drug, but if you hadn’t been here and did what you did, I think I would have had a heart attack.” He shakes his head, ashamed and desperate to prove you wrong. You understand his hesitation. It felt too good for it to be anything other than a transgression. “And if anything, it showed me something I think I already knew but couldn’t find in myself to admit. I need you, Javi. I need you because I can’t live without you. Because I love you.”

His eyes light up when you return the words he uttered in the bar. None of this is how it should have been – in an abandoned narcos hideout, but god, there’s not a single thing you’d change. 

“Yeah, baby? You mean that?” You nod as hot, natural desire flashes in his eyes as he pulls your body under him and captures your mouth in his. His warm palm cups your hip, your ribs, up under your arm, and pushes your elbow to your head. There’s more to say, more to worry about, but that fucking heatwave over Bogota has finally broken and Javier Peña’s cum is dried and flaky between your thighs. 

“We should call Murphy,” you giggle, withdrawing your tongue from his mouth. He shakes his head, the blunt edge of his teeth against your cheek. “There’s a deadly new drug on the streets. Lives are at stake.”

“My dick is at stake,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your skin, drawing your knee up to his ribs as he slots himself between your thighs. The smile slides off your face as he thumbs your raw clit in rough, desperate circles. 

“I thought you said you were going to take it slow next time,” you huff, hips rolling against his stiff cock. 

“I will. Gonna take you to dinner. Cup your ass over a distractingly short dress. Buy you flowers and fucking gold jewelry . . . then I’m going to take you home and open you up with my fingers, then my tongue.” 

“So what’s this?” You gasp against his neck as he sinks his cock into you. 

He groans, grunts, as if he hadn’t spent the better part of the night making your cunt his personal possession. 

“This is me, fucking you, before breakfast. Then we call Murphy. Any objections?” 

You squeeze your knees around him, ankles hooked across his low back, sucking a mark into his neck. 

“Not at all.” 

When you do go public, not shying away from holding hands in the office, or openly walking in at the same time from the same car, Noonan is irate, but can’t bring herself to cut her two best agents loose. It seems catching Pablo Escobar matters more than some silly, little government-issued guidelines. She’d get her day in court, but not today. Not for a while. 

Noonan is annoyed. 

Murphy is not. 

“Came across some new party drugs and not a single thing happened, right?”

“You could have found it, taken it home for you and Connie to enjoy,” you say as you slide your arm across Javier’s back, his hand on your hip. He rarely ever takes his hands off you now. “But, no, you bailed on me instead.” 

“Sounds like you should be thanking me, instead of busting my balls.”

“He’s right, baby,” Javier nuzzles your neck. “Could have been him stuck in that basement with me, horny as a cat in fucking heat.” 

You shrug as Murphy makes a face. “I blame the heatwave.”

He leans into your ear. “And I blame your fucking ass in that skirt. I’m gonna take you home, make good on my promise. Any objections?”

“Not at all.” 

[sluttywoozi]

Morning Glow | Daydreaming Part III

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.0k

Summary: You should have known you were telling on yourself by begging Seonghwa to just fuck you without opening you up first.

Part I | Part II

Warnings: pwp, talk of f. masturbation, kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering, hand kink ? idk, multiple orgasms, oral f. rec., squirting, size kink, big dick hwa, dacryphilia, soft sex, creampie

Reader Notes: cums easily, wap, size queen, has longish nails, gets emo (my bad)

You blink awake to soft sunlight and a sleeping Seonghwa. You’re laying on your stomach, the sheet low on your hips and his arm draped over your waist, and you’re almost annoyed to discover he looks even more angelic in the cool morning rays. His eyes are closed gently and his face is smoothed out, though a small smile quirks up the corners of his plush lips. 

You test your legs, tightening your thigh muscles and letting out a quiet hum when you realize you’re not very sore at all. He fucked you hard last night, bent you in ways you didn’t know you could bend, and you expected to have to army crawl to the bathroom. 

Instead, you can inch away, slide out from under his arm and off the bed. You tiptoe to the ensuite, flicking on the light and closing the door as softly as you can before going about your business and brushing your teeth. You still feel giddy putting your toothbrush back into the jar next to his, though you started keeping one here months ago. 

You turn off the light and open the door slowly, peeking out to see if Seonghwa is still sleeping. He’s lying in the same position, his back to the door and his arm stretched out over where you were, but when the door squeaks, he lifts his head and turns to you.

You grin at him, nearly skipping back to your side of the bed before climbing in and snuggling under his arm and the sheets. “Hi, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips and tasting your fresh breath. He pulls away, grimacing and covering his mouth as he rolls to the edge of the bed. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, staring at him in bewilderment while he all but runs to the bathroom. 

“I’m brushing my teeth!” He calls from the bathroom, his words garbled but intelligible. You inspect your nails as you wait for him to spit and rinse, noting absentmindedly that you deserve a manicure. 

“I don’t wanna kiss you with a gross mouth,” he explains as he jumps back into bed, the mattress bouncing with his added weight. He wiggles in close, laying his arm over you again and kissing you with minty lips. 

You see an idea light up his brain, something like a realization sweeping across his face, and you don’t know whether to inch closer or back away. The last time he looked like this, he started calling you a good girl and praising you for doing the bare minimum. 

“So, it seems you know what you like when it comes to sex. What else have you discovered?” Seonghwa asks, his fingers slowly walking up and down your spine. 

“Well,” you stall, nervous to be so open with him. You should have known you were telling on yourself by begging him to just fuck you without opening you up first. “I can cum five or six times in, like, half an hour, even with nothing inside.” 

He takes in a deep, measured breath, his eyelids fluttering gently like your words touched him viscerally. 

“Of course, I like it better with something big to squeeze down on-“

“I noticed,” He smirks, his fingertips digging into a knot just under your shoulder blade as if in revenge. You wince, wiggling away from his touch before forcing yourself to stay still and let him work. 

“Also, I can squirt.”

Seonghwa freezes, his gaze suddenly locked onto yours and burning with the same fire you saw last night. 

“Show me. Please.” 

“I don’t have my vibrator.” That’s not the only thing stopping you. You’ve never touched yourself in front of anyone before, and this is Seonghwa, and you’re scared you’ll feel too self conscious to even orgasm at all. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t push. He just sighs, deflating a little before perking up again and asking, “If you’re not too sore, can I try to make you squirt? You didn’t yesterday, and you didn’t cum five times either.”

“You can try, but don’t feel like you have to compete with me. I’ve been touching myself a lot longer than you have.”

His full lips spread in a wry smile, a smile you soon feel pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It doesn’t stay soft for long, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue soothes the sting. 

“That just means I’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” he exhales as he braces himself over your body. “Can you get on your back, baby?”

You listen, twisting around beneath him until your breasts brush his chest and you can feel his cock stir. He’s big even though he’s barely hard, and you swallow the moan that suddenly coats your tongue at the thought of him fitting inside you. 

His lips cover yours one, two, three times more before he drags them over your jaw and down your neck, sinking his teeth into whatever spots strike his fancy. His mouth catches on your left nipple, his tongue laving over the bud as he purses his lips and sucks. He doesn’t neglect the other side, his fingers rolling and plucking at your right nipple as he takes long, deep pulls of the left. 

You moan and so does Seonghwa, like he feels the sparks down his spine and the throbbing between his legs too, and when his dick twitches against your thigh, you think he might. You wonder if you could cum just from this, just from his mouth and fingers on your tits, and decide to save that for a rainy day. You’re sure Seonghwa will be all too eager to participate in your plans. 

His mouth replaces his fingers, his now free right hand sliding down your body and cupping your center, the groan that vibrates over your skin making you gasp. You must be wet, you feel like you are, and Seonghwa’s fingers glide as they trace from your entrance to your clit and back again, exploring for minutes that feel like hours. 

You try to be patient, try not to arch into his mouth or push into his hand, but it’s difficult when he’s touching you so softly you can barely feel it. It’s only when he dips a fingertip inside that you finally whine and let your hips buck, your pussy sucking his finger in deeper and deeper until his knuckles bump against you. 

“Impatient,” he chuckles lowly, pulling off your nipple and shuffling down your body before pushing your legs up and apart.

“Can you keep your thighs open for me? If it starts to hurt, we can put you on your stomach.”

You nod, hooking your hands under your knees and feeling exposed in the morning light. You don’t have time to be shy as Seonghwa pulls his finger out and sinks two inside on the next stroke, curling them up and searching for your g-spot. You’ve found it before on your own, that’s how you made yourself squirt, and you know it’s only a matter of time before Seonghwa finds it too. 

Seconds later, his fingers graze over the patch of nerves inside you and a sharp gasp escapes, your pussy clenching down and your eyes squeezing shut. He hums, tapping the pads of his fingers into it once before retreating. 

He builds the pace slowly, sliding his fingers in and out and just barely rubbing into your g-spot. You want him to go faster but it’s also luxurious to feel someone else do this to you for once, to just lay back and let your inhibitions slip away as he works you up. 

His fingers are longer than yours too, not much thicker because his hands are so beautiful and delicate, but they’re able to really press into your g-spot and grind. It’s a feeling you almost don’t know how to handle, a pressure deep inside that grows and grows and grows until it breaks like a wave, your back bowing and your voice high as you keen your way through an orgasm. 

Neither you nor Seonghwa expected it to happen so fast, but you won’t complain and it’s obvious he won’t either, his face slack with awe while he watches your entrance cinch and loosen around his crooked fingers. 

He doesn’t let up, instead he lowers his mouth to you and laps at your clit, his tongue soft and hot and perfect against you. You feel a third finger press inside, the slight stretch of your walls delicious, like a taste of what you felt with Seonghwa’s dick inside of you. Thinking about that feeling has you shivering, has your pussy fluttering, has your clit throbbing, and when he spreads his fingers apart, you can’t hold in the whine. 

Seonghwa responds with a groan, the vibrations of it traveling through your clit and straight into your core. It doesn’t take more than that for you to cum again, your cunt leaking around his digits and your nails digging so hard into your thighs you fear you’ll break the skin. 

“So good, baby, just like that,” he mumbles into you, puckering his lips around your clit and sucking, drawing your orgasm out so long you start to shake. 

“Should I keep going?” He pulls away to ask, slightly concerned as he eyes the way your thighs tremble. 

“Yeah, I can take more,” you assure him breathlessly, staring down at the picture he makes. His hair is tousled, his eyes half lidded and blazing, and his lips are swollen, red, wet with your arousal. He looks so handsome you could cry, and as he wraps those luscious lips around your clit again, you honestly think you might. 

Tears start to dampen your lashes as you take in a deep, shuddering breath, his fingers pressed tight to your g-spot and his mouth searing hot on you. It’s inescapable, the pleasure, and so unbelievably different with his touch rather than yours. You can’t anticipate what he’ll do, how he’ll touch you, what he’ll say. Everything is a surprise and the excitement just heightens your senses, makes every touch feel like the first. 

You wish he was your first, but you’ll be happy with him being your last instead. 

You can’t imagine anyone else making you feel like this, anyone else handling you with such care and passion. You can’t imagine anyone else, period. Seonghwa is it for you, and at that revelation, you fall apart again. 

His thumb replaces his mouth on your clit so he can lap at your stretched entrance, his wrist tilting down, spreading you open even further so his tongue can delve inside along with his fingers. Your pussy feels so full but now your head feels empty, devoid of all thoughts beyond Seonghwa Seonghwa Seonghwa. 

That’s all you can say too, just whimpers of his name in between gasping breaths and weak cries, tears bubbling over and spilling down your cheeks as he presses down harder with his thumb. 

You fall into a daze, your hearing muffled and your vision dotted with stars, when he makes you cum for the fourth time. The sea of bliss is hard to swim through so you just try to stay afloat, try to keep breathing and keep holding your legs up, try to listen to Seonghwa as he pulls his tongue out to speak filth into you. 

“My pretty girl, so beautiful when you cry for me. I bet your tears taste almost as good as your perfect little cunt. Want one more?”

You don’t know if he’s talking about fingers or orgasms, but the answer is an affirmative either way, so you nod frantically and push out, “Yes, Hwa, please,” knowing he’ll tell you to use your words. 

He rewards you by tucking his pinky inside on the next stroke, fucking you open with four of his fingers and digging them into your g-spot with every thrust. All you can do is whine feebly, feeling something starting to build deep in your pelvis as his thumb speeds up on your clit and his fingertips grind into you. 

“Seonghwa! I’m gonna, I-I’m,” a wail interrupts your warning, but Seonghwa must get it because he doesn’t change anything, just lowers his mouth to you and breathes, “Gonna squirt, huh? Gonna get me all wet with you? I wanna be fucking drenched, baby.”

That’s what gets you, hearing just how bad he wants it, and you feel the dam inside of you break, your wetness flooding out around his fingers in spurts. He groans so deep you can feel it in your stomach, his lips touching his fingers as he presses his open mouth to you, catching as much of your arousal on his tongue as he can. 

You can’t stop clenching, can’t stop crying, your cheeks just as wet as your pussy, and you feel him switch back into doting boyfriend mode when you let out a pitiful little sob. 

He’s wiping his face off on the sheets in no time, rising to hold himself above you with his left hand and leaving his right between your legs to keep you full. He coos quietly, dotting kisses all over your face and sucking away your tears before whispering, “You okay, baby?”

You try to nod but you can’t really move, your body not cooperating with your brain as it slowly comes back online. You manage a shaky, “Mhm,” and attempt to release your thighs, wincing as they fall back to the bed. Your hands are numb, your hips aching, but you can still feel yourself throbbing around his fingers, desperate for something thicker, longer, harder. 

“Will you fuck me?” 

He narrows his eyes at you, prods your g-spot one last time, and pulls away. Your face crumples and he rushes to soothe you, cleaning off his pruney fingers and cupping your face with both hands. 

“I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“You won’t! Not in a way I don’t like, at least.” Seonghwa arches a brow at your words, something in his gaze telling you he’s filed that little tidbit away for later, but agrees with a sigh. 

“Let’s get you comfy, then, hm?” 

You still feel weighed down to the bed so he moves you himself, rolling you onto your stomach and pulling you up on your knees so he can slide a pillow beneath your hips. He straddles your thighs, pushing your asscheeks apart with both hands and letting his cock skim your folds, the head bumping against your clit in a way that makes you jump. 

“Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You feel your muscles untense one by one until you’ve melted into the bed, pillowing your head with your arms and tilting your hips up to give him better access. 

“That’s it,” he breathes, gripping his dick with one hand and lining himself up before starting to press inside. There’s not as much of a stretch as there was last night, but he still feels better than any of your dildos. He’s longer, thicker, hotter, and, best of all, he’s Seonghwa. The man you love, the man you trust, the man whose cock absolutely does not match his frame. 

You feel thankful, blessed, to have met him. The way he sinks into you is sheer perfection, his dick so big it fills your weeping pussy to the brim and then fills it some more, the angle allowing him to root himself all the way inside you. He shivers above you, his fingers spasming on your ass before they dig in deep, and he pulls his hips away slowly, pausing with just a few inches left to spare. 

You expect him to snap forward, to plunge back into you, but he softens his grip instead, bends to hover over you with his hands braced on either side of your head. His chest brushes against the sensitive skin of your back and you move your hands to cover his. He tangles your fingers together, lays a soft kiss on your shoulder, and pushes inside of you. 

He slides in just as slowly as he slipped out, and part of you wants him to go faster, to fuck you like he did last night, but the rest of you thinks it might be nice to be treated delicately, like someone to be treasured, to be held. 

And that’s how you feel, you feel held by him. Tears burn in your throat again and you let them well up, let them puddle beneath your turned head. Seonghwa leans in, kisses your shining cheekbone, and rests his head against yours. You feel more than hear him say, “I love you,” his bedroom silent but for the whirring fan and your pounding heart. 

“I love you,” you whisper, gasping as he grinds into you and turns to press his face against your spine. Rolling his hips into yours again, he starts to speak quietly, “Move in with me. I know I shouldn’t a-ask you now, like this, but I just, fuck, I just want you around all the time.”

“I want to wake up with you every day, and go to sleep with you every night. I m-shit, might’ve already cleared out some space, but you don’t have to answer now, and I won’t be upset if you say no.”

It takes you hardly any time to mull it over. Logistically, it checks out. Seonghwa lives closer to campus than you do, your lease is up this month, and he has a spare room that’s only half filled with legos so you can still have a bit of your own space. Emotionally, you adore Seonghwa and yearn to be near him at all times. Moving in with him would be a dream. 

You’re proud of yourself for even thinking it through while he’s still moving inside of you, all of the veins on his thick cock rubbing against your walls in the absolute best way. You’re even more proud of yourself for gathering your voice enough to answer him with more than a sob. 

“Of course I will, Seonghwa. I’ll literally move in t-tomorrow if you want.” 

You can feel his teeth press against you, and you know he must be grinning, beaming, and suddenly, you wish you could see him. 

“Hwa, can I flip over?”

He hums his yes, gently freeing one hand from yours and using it to hold the base of his cock as he pulls out of you. You wriggle around as gracefully as you can, widening your legs just enough for his waist to fit and sighing as he fills you again, your hips still propped up by the pillow. 

The angle is immaculate, especially when he starts to pull further away, dipping up to graze your g-spot on his way in and out. He leans in to kiss you and you melt into him immediately, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck as he pushes into you over and over, your lips opening on a gasp. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth, gentleness giving way to filthiness just like with his hips. You’re still getting wetter, somehow, though your walls hug his cock every time he pulls back like you don’t want him to leave. You wish you could stay like this forever, stay wrapped around him, stay connected with him, but you’ll settle for getting to live with him. 

You rock together, the movement of his hips as constant as the tide, while he kisses you breathless. The remaining thoughts in your head start to slip away and soon, you can barely even concentrate enough to kiss him back. It’s too difficult to participate when he just keeps filling you, just keeps grinding against all the sensitive spots deep inside, just keeps throbbing and twitching and leaking inside of you. 

“Getting close,” he murmurs against your lips, “Can you cum again?”

You’re honestly not sure but it’s worth a try, so you nod and do your best not to dig your nails into the back of his neck when he works a hand between your thighs and sets his fingers on your swollen little clit. He’s gentle, just barely swirling the pads of his fingers over the aching bundle of nerves, but it’ll be enough. 

You know it will be, because you can feel the coil starting to tighten in your stomach, feel your pussy get tighter around him, feel the way your heart skips a beat before galloping away. He grows inside you, his cock hardening further, just before he groans brokenly into your mouth and breaks. 

He collapses further, laying himself out over you and pressing you into the bed as his balls empty inside of your spasming cunt. Hot streams of cum paint your walls, the jerking of his dick and the feeling of him flooding you pushing you over the edge into one final dizzying, blinding, life-changing orgasm. 

It steals your breath, robs you of the ability to think, speak, move. You drift for who knows how long, the only thing anchoring you to this world being the weight of his body on top of you. He pets your hair, whispers sweet words of love and devotion to you as you slowly come back to yourself. 

“Love you so much, baby.”

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.”

“Anything you want, anything you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His love seeps into your skin like sunlight, warms you from the inside out, makes you feel so bright, you could shine. 

When his cock fully softens inside of you, he slips out slowly, covering your cunt with his palm to keep his cum from dripping out. You jump at the feeling, your pussy tender and oversensitive, and he hums an apology, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb as he disentangles himself from you. 

You feel the loss immediately, though he doesn’t go far. Just to the ensuite to turn the tub faucet on, it seems, and you relax again at the sight of him padding back into the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and gazes at you, sighing a bone deep, satisfied sigh before smiling gently and saying, “I had a little, um, daydream last night, about eating you out and tucking you in and watching your favorite movies and ordering your favorite takeout. I already got to eat you out, and now I get to do the rest. I’m so lucky.”

He almost sounds embarrassed telling you this, and you feel so fond of him, you could die. Before you can respond, he continues speaking, like he’s in a rush to move on. 

“Let’s get you into the tub, it should be nearly full by now.” 

You scooch to the edge of the bed, standing on legs that shake like a fawn’s and making your way (with Seonghwa’s help) to the bathroom. He leaves you to grab towels and pajamas, but you can manage from here. You haven’t had sex without a condom with anyone other than Seonghwa but you know you should pee after to avoid a UTI, so you take care of that business and sit for a little bit longer to let the cum drip out of you. 

It’s an odd feeling, emptiness where there was once such fullness, even though you’re aware that’s your usual state. You just feel more whole when he’s inside you, like all your sharp edges are rounded out and all your fractures are filled in. 

Seonghwa returns after you flush, holding your arms as you climb into the steaming tub and settling in behind you when you reach for him. He wraps his arms around you, taking both of your hands and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when you squeeze his fingers. 

“Love you,” you murmur, your words blending together in your lethargy.

“Love you too,” he mumbles into your neck, his voice low and drowsy. 

You’re asleep before either of you can speak another word. 

AN: for @whatudowhennooneseesyou wowowow this one took me so many months to start and like two days to finish! it's been almost a year to the day since i posted Daydreaming and I never planned on writing another part, let alone two, but here we are! if you can't tell, i love and adore Seonghwa and also want him in ways that are concerning to feminism like i DESIRE this man carnally, emotionally, physically, metaphysically, metaphorically, theoretically, all of the lly's

come scream with me about this fic or about seonghwa or ateez or kpop or anything! i love to interact!

My Masterlist

[abbyromanoff]

PLEASE BRO IF YOUR DOING REQUESTS,

Can you please do yandere!possessive!gp!valkryie, where her and reader had a huge argument and reader storms out leaving Valkyrie alone. Later coming home Valkyrie rails the shit out of reader in front of a mirror because valkryie followed reader to a bar where she saw a man flirt reader (she OFC kills the dude when he reader leaves.)

PLEASE BRO IVE ASKED SO MANY PPL (no hate to anybody I've asked, I love you all 💞)

GONE, BUT NOT FOR LONG

PAIRINGS: Valkyrie x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,821

WARNINGS: smut, Valkyrie has a dick, blowjobs, cunnilingus, killing, murder, dark!valkyrie, knives, king!valkyrie, fingering, facials, breeding, noncon, jealousy, possessiveness, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Run. Keep running. That’s all that ran through your mind as you sped away from the large building where you used to sleep peacefully, that was until you found out the truth, until you realized your lover had been lying to you all along.

She was the king, one respected by many, if not all. Citizens trusted her with their lives yet she kept her disguise, taking away the innocence of others as she cut them short of breathing. The man didn’t deserve that, no matter what he did to annoy her, he didn’t deserve to die. He could’ve had a family, children wondering when their dad would come home, only to have him stripped away to never see again.

You always knew Valkyrie had a jealous side to her, some would even call it possessiveness. But you never thought it would go this far.

Earlier on you had planned on surprising the woman at work, hoping she’d still be in her office for lunch instead of skipping like usual. You always warned her of the health concerns that came with ignoring meals, but she never listened, stating she was often times ‘too busy to remember’. And you wished when you entered that was what greeted you, your girlfriend hunched over a pile of papers on her desk, only it was far from that.

When you entered, a small grin on your face and a container in your hands, you were greeted with the sight of Valkyrie holding a knife to a man’s neck who was begging for forgiveness. Your feet planted in your spot as you gasped, mouth falling wide open while the older woman snapped her head in your direction.

“Please-“ The man cried out behind his gag, only to have the sharp object slit his skin open, causing blood to ooze out of his rapidly until he fell limp to the floor.

“Baby? Baby, it’s alright, he was a very, very bad man, okay? He had this coming.” She tried reaching out for you, handing the blade to one of her bodyguards who took it without hesitation, the rest of them already starting to clean up the mess she made. You backed away, wincing from her near touch alone. You knew she loved you and would never hurt you, but what if that changed? What if she did hurt you someday? She often got mad when she was jealous, what if it went so far one day and she tried to hurt you?

“Don’t touch me!” Your eyes were glossed over and she gulped fearfully at the sight, she wasn’t one to be afraid or scared, but knowing she caused those tears was what scared her the most. It scared her of herself, of what she could do.

“It’s me, love, I’m not going to hurt you.” But how could you trust that? How could you trust that she’d keep you safe when she just killed an innocent person right in front of your eyes?

“Look, he- he deserved it! I had to keep you safe-“

“Don’t you dare put this on me, I am not the one who held a knife to his neck and slit his fucking throat! I don’t even know his name, for Christ's sake!” She seemed to be growing more and more agitated as you continued to ignore her words, and chose to believe your own instead. You didn’t understand, you didn’t understand the things she had to do to keep you safe.

“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I wanted to kill him? No, but I knew he couldn’t roam free after what he did to you, what if he tried on someone else, huh? Would you let him have forgiveness then?” In all honesty, she wanted to do it. She found herself being filled with joy whenever she got to end the life of one of her victims. She had no idea what was wrong with her, she knew it wasn’t normal but she couldn’t stop, it just felt so good.

When there was no response spewing out of your mouth, she decided to take the next step and brought a single foot forward, letting her palms caress your face as she smiled, you didn’t pull away. Although, she noticed the small flinch but chose to ignore it.

“Guards,” She called for the attention of the tall men, all of them turning their heads in her direction. “Please exit the premises, and take the body with you.” They nodded and did as asked without question, you wondered if this was a normal occurrence for them.

“Awh, don’t cry, pretty girl, Daddy didn’t mean to upset you.” She pouted at your frightened expression, chuckling darkly when you sniffled.

“See the things I’d do for my little girl? I’d die for you, I’d kill for you, doesn’t that mean something?” You shook your head rapidly, trying your best to escape her grasp until she wrapped her arms tightly around your waist.

“Don’t think you’re leaving me, sweetheart.” You wiggled around hopelessly, knowing deep down there was no chance in hell you’d disobey her.

“Let me go! Please, Val, please!” She groaned, kissing the side of your neck, even when you tried to hit your head on hers as the only option left.

“Mm, I like it when you beg me, baby. Turns me on so much.” She pulled you in closer by the hips, letting you feel the growing bulge hidden beneath her suit. It stopped you in your tracks, shuddering quietly as she grinded against you.

“I know you’re mad, so why don’t you let me make it up to you, okay? Can I do that?” You shook your head with a whine, feeling your body weaken the more you wasted your energy trying to escape.

“Too bad. You have no idea how I need this, I’ve been so frustrated all week, working nonstop, don’t you want to help Daddy?” Trying to disagree took all the willpower you had left because you knew you wanted it, no matter how much you said you didn’t. You wanted her to fuck you deep and raw, showing no mercy on your weeping cunt. It was as if she could read your mind because she quickly turned you around, pressing your back against her front while her free hand ran down your stomach to your core, letting her fingers dip inside your pants.

“Don’t try and run from me, there’s nowhere you can go.” The only place you ever knew were her arms, and each time you’d come racing into them, desperate for her to have any sense of hold on you. She was captivating your mind with her as her fingers ran across your folds, collecting your slick and creating a shiny glow as she pulled them out to show you.

“I think you’ve been lying to me, sweetheart, I think you like me killing in your favor.” She grinned when you struggled to come up with a response, only shaking your head no in hopes she’d believe it. But, truthfully, you didn’t believe your lie either.

“Every lie you tell me is only going to add to your already long list of punishments. So, tell me, did you like watching me slit his throat? Is that what made you this wet? Hm?” You gave in, accepting your fate as you succumbed to the feeling of her skin rubbing onto yours.

“Yes- I fucking loved it, Val.” She slapped the side of your ass and tsked in disapproval, causing shame to rise in your chest.

“Try again.” She hummed, letting a singular digit prod gently at your hole, teasing you with her soft nature that you knew would soon be replaced by something darker.

“I loved it, Daddy..” You muttered, nearly choking on your breath as she entered you. Before you could even think, a second finger joined, causing you to whimper loudly.

“Gotta stretch you out for my cock, baby.” She stated. “I fuck you every day yet you’re still so damn tight, such a dirty slut you are.” Came her spoken words followed by a deep, hungry groan.

“Just for you, I’m your slut.” You seemed to be chasing for her approval by now, blushing from every noise that left her hot mouth. You’ve always been such a good girl for her, that’s what she adored most about you.

“That’s right. Daddy’s little slut, maybe I should mark you with it so you know just who you belong to.” In an instant you were pushed to your knees, her legs kicking the back of yours and causing you to fall as she finally removed herself from your tight hole. She looked down at you with hunger before you turned to face her, pleading with your eyes only while she stroked your cheek, her slick-covered digits seeping into your mouth as you suckled on them gently.

“Aren’t you adorable?” You nuzzled your face against her crotch where her restricted hard-on poked you. She was teasing you, she knew that.

“You want Daddy’s cock? Yeah? Of course, you do, little bitch.” You lowered her minimal clothing when given permission and gasped when noticing a small wet spot where her pre-cum had leaked. You were practically dripping when she finally freed herself of the uncomfortable gear, sighing with satisfaction as you reached forward to pull down the boxers she adorned, freeing her length to the fresh air. You instantly wrapped your hand around it, letting your lips press against the head repeatedly until you dragged your tongue up and down the skin.

“Oh- fuck! Mhm, just like that, take it, baby.” She tangled her fingers in your hair and thrusted forward while pulling you even closer, chuckling at the sound of your gags bouncing off the walls. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let her take control, moving your palms to fondle her balls.

“This is all your fault, Y/N. If you weren’t so fucking perfect, maybe I wouldn’t have had to hurt him. Maybe if you weren’t so goddamn sexy, you wouldn’t have to be choking on my dick right now.” You didn’t want it any other way, this was truly heaven.

“I’m gonna cum down your throat- shit! You’re gonna swallow it all, right?” You nodded as best as you could with her still in your mouth, watching as she threw her head back before releasing her finish, her juices reaching your tastebuds instantly. She held you in place, forcing you to keep still and follow in on your promise. Droplets tended to dribble down your chin and to your neck, but you refused to let any go to waste.

She pulled out soon after, slapping her length against your face and smothering your skin in her release. You licked your lips and tasted the sweet nectar, eliciting a moan from deep in your chest.

“Get on all fours and face the mirror.” It wasn’t a request as much as it was a demand. In her eyes, you didn’t have a choice, you were to follow her lead and trust her every move, which you found yourself doing over the course of your relationship.

“Good girl, you listen so well.” She kneeled behind you and smacked your ass with force, causing you to wince as your body reacted with only a deeper amount of pleasure.

“Daddy-“ You were cut off with a moan, biting your lip to try and stifle the sound but she still heard.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Do it again…please?” She complied, repeating her action and admiring your ass jiggled in response. She left a kiss to the burning skin and you smiled when she didn’t stop, layering each inch of your body until she reached your hole once again. Her tongue drew circles on your swollen bud before dipping inside of you. Your hands balled into tight fists as you watched your reaction through the mirror, glancing back and forth at your girlfriend's already hardened cock. It was so easy to mess with her, she would fall for anything you did and would give you anything you wanted.

“Taste so good, so perfect.” Slurping sounds came from behind you until she was bringing you to the edge, your body already overstimulated from the previous actions.

Right as you were about to sink into your orgasm, she pulled away, lining her length up with your entrance and using your wetness as a form of lube. Your breath got caught in your throat at the intrusion while her eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of your walls clamping around her tip.

“That feel good? Hm? You like it when I stretch you out just for me?” You nodded while screaming out agreements, the fear of her guards hearing you not even seeming to register like usual as you just focused on her. On how she made you feel. On how she bombarded you with overwhelming excitement by just being her.

“You fit so well around me, it’s like you were made for me.” In her mind and soul, she knew it was true. The moment she met you she knew she had to have you as her own, you were made for her as she was for you. You were hers, every part of you belonged to her and she’d never let you believe otherwise. Either you’d spend your life with her or yours would come to a short, she wouldn’t be able to live knowing you were being loved by another.

“Yes! You fuck me s-so good, I need more, please!” Your breasts bounced with each thrust she sent, now being buried deep inside of you while her pelvis smacked against your backside, creating a loud clapping sound that echoed throughout the room.

“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum, have you leaking just so I can fuck it back into you.” The image made you shudder, goosebumps traveling down your skin. Her fingers came to wrap around your hair as she yanked hard, her other hand finding place on your waist and holding onto you with a bruising grip.

“You close, princess?”

“Mhm, so close.” You whispered, tossing your head back even further until it laid on her shoulder. Her tits were rested against your back, her swollen nipples poking your skin in a teasing manner.

“Too bad.” You were meeting her thrusts as she continued to quicken, causing you to look sloppy and weak compared to her. Her bulging biceps made way to your vision, and you nearly came just from the sight.

“Please, Daddy, I can’t stop it-“ You were close to breaking her most important rule if she kept denying you. You tried your absolute best, but that’s all you could do.

“I wanna hear you beg for it.”

“I’ll do anything, please, just let me cum. I-l promise I’ll be good- ah! I’m sorry, I c- can’t hold back, Daddy.” She whispered a singular word into your ear and gazed into your eyes through the mirror, watching as your orgasm came crashing down over you. Suddenly, you felt warm liquid releasing deep inside of you, but you were too weak to fight it.

“No-“ Whimpers washed over you before you could push her away, your body becoming limp as your legs shook.

“I’m gonna get you pregnant, baby, that way you can never leave me again.” She licked her lips and caressed your breasts with her palms, tweaking your nipples until she had you crying out.

“Now you’ll be mine forever.”

She let you rest in the bed and when you awoke, you were greeted with nothing but silence. You assumed she was working once again, and instead of being sad, you used that to your advantage. Packing your limited amount of clothes and resources quickly into a bag you planned on leaving, escaping from her wrongful actions and beliefs, and starting a new life of your own, one that would be forced as hidden from the public.

You seemed to be able to sneak past most without them recognizing you or realizing something was wrong. Then, your engine roared as it started and you instantly took off. You hoped Valkyrie hadn’t put a chip in it with how protective she was, but you couldn’t care as you drove far away until you weren’t able to see the Asgardian City sign anymore.

You sighed in relief, thinking you were free. But you didn’t know what was going on back in the large building where your girlfriend sat, watching through the cameras she installed in her vehicle in case something like this ever happened. She smirked, already planning what she was going to do with you in her head.

“Guards,” She started, earning their full attention, “Give them some time to think their free. Then, kidnap them, mask and all. Hopefully, then they’ll see how much they need me to keep them safe.”

[gegewrites]

Dr.house- a proper fuck(smut)

I apologize for how long it took me to write this. I hope you enjoy!

6-14-23

Words-3.1k

Kinda(?) edited?

Your pov-

It's been a month since Greg's been shot, he hasn't gone to work. I've taken over for him, but sometimes Cuddy or Wilson will use the team for extra help. Greg's new favorite thing since he realized he could run again...was running. I'm not arguing, he's got some nice legs. But, he like to go for runs at night. Just getting up, throwing on his running shorts and shoes, grabbing his iPod and earbuds and just leaving.

Like tonight, I was finishing up a patient report on the couch, resting against him as he watched Tv, his legs kicked up on the coffee table. Then all of a sudden, he pushed me off of him simultaneously kicking his legs off the table. I just watched him leave. I'm not gonna stop him from running. He's finally got free mobility, let him enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

"I'll be back." He pointed at me as he opened the door and quickly walked through it, closing it behind him. I rolled my eyes and laid down on the couch,the arm of it below my shoulder blades, I put my knees up resting the file against it as I continued writing.

He didn't get back till eleven thirty and He left at ten. He didn't come to the bedroom first, he went straight to the bathroom and showered, It's very appreciated.  I was laying in  bed, my knees up as my book was against the front of my thighs,  which was covered by the comforter.  I flipped the page of my book, the Tv was also on, anything to keep me awake at this point. If I fell asleep, I'd soon be woken up anyways to move my position because he demands to have a hot women laying against his chest at night. But I also demand to have an arm draped over my back and hand sat on my ribs to sleep anyways.

Two people desperate for human touch, it's kind of perfect. Though some interactions in the workplace can inappropriate, like a grab to my ass as he walks past me, even if I'm actively with a patient. He's the gropey one, I just like to be near him when I can.

I started reading the next page as the bedroom door pushed open, the only light being the lamp on my nightstand. His hair was damp and fluffy from being towel dried,said towel wrapped around his waist. Yum.

He walked past the bed to the dresser throwing me a glance, I was still trying to read this book.

"How was your run?" I asked as the top dresser drawer opened.

"It's was good." He looked back at me as he threw his boxers to the bed. Closing the drawer and going to his pants drawer,"where'd you get that book?"

"Cameron, she finished it. Gave her one of mine and she gave me one of hers." I explained , turning the page. He hummed, I was waiting for some snarky remark, but it didn't come. He just tossed the towel to end of the bed and  put his boxers and pants on. I didn't watch him, this part of the book was good. Pretty blasphemous, but who doesn't wanna get fucked by a hot priest?

He stepped out of the room to put the towel back in the bathroom, walking back in quickly after.

"What's it about?" He asked as he walked to his side of the bed. I slid the tip of my finger under the page as he pulled up the comforter snd sheets, proceeding to get under them.

"I don't think you wanna know." I glanced at him as he rested on his side,  his right forearm was sunken into his pillows. He leaned in as I looked back to the page and I saw his eyebrow raise from my peripheral view.

"By the words wet, priest, and cock...It's religious erotica." A light chuckle tinged the word erotica.  I shrugged before grabbing the bookmark from the night stand, my right leg straightening out. I slipped the decorated piece of paper  into the bind and closed it, placing it next to the lamp.

I looked back at him, his left hand now snaked under the cover, placed on my thigh.

"run didn't tire you out?" I asked, my left leg falling a bit more open subconsciously.

"Not even close." I leaned closer to him to catch his lips on mine and he sat up a bit taller. His left hand moving to my right hip pulling me closer to him. My left hand came to hold the back of his head as his lips moved heatedly with mine.

The smell of his body wash filled my senses. my finger carding smoothly through his dry,yet damp, hair. Moments like these remind me on how stupidly obsessed I can be about him.  My right leg straighten out as I pushed up closer to him, propping up on my left arm. My hips twisted, my right leg sweeping over his. I slowly started coming up to my knees, pushing him into the head board and his pillows. His hands sat on my hips, my hand was still on the back of his head, though my right was on his bare shoulder.

Now would be a good time to mention what I'm wearing. Dark red panties, bikini style. And his black Mötley Crüe T-shirt. A rather usual sleeping outfit of mine, his shirts were just comfier, plus I do the laundry.

He pushed my hips down to his thigh, I didn't realize I was hovering over it. Force of habit. I pulled away from him as he took hold of the bottom hem of the shirt. he sat up closer to me as he pulled it off and threw it to the left side of the room. Placing a kiss to my lips as a hand slid around to my lower back, pulling me closer as we kissed down my jaw.

"As much as I love the sweet shit," I started, he didn't look at me or stop, his beard tickled my skin, his lips nipping at my skin, taking his time to find that spot on my splenius," I'd prefer to just be fucked."

"Or you could just shut up?" He pulled away from my neck only to say that sentence before going back to my neck. His right hand sliding up my ribs to grab my breast in his hand, his finger tips pressing into it. I pushed further in his palm, Gaining a small hum from him. his tongue swiped over my skin before he placed an open mouth kiss to his favorite hickey area, his teeth soon joining in as he sucked on the skin.

I could feel myself getting wetter and in desperate need of more. if he wasn't wearing pants he'd probably feel how wet I'm growing against his thigh. He placed a kiss to the new hickey on my skin. his left thumb hooking in the band of my panties, his finger tips pressing onto the plush of my ass. Then his hands slid up to my waist.

"Get off." I lifted my right leg off and over him. I came to stand at the edge of the bed and he came up to standing as well. I slid my panties down my legs and kicked the away towards the wall. He was looking down at me, his right brow raised and then he glanced to the bed, then back to me. The right corner of his like curling up, getting that lusted gleam in his eye.

I got the hint, if he can run...he fuck me properly, especially with no pain. Don't get me wrong I love riding him, but now he's got the full control to fuck me how ever he wants.

I crawled onto the bed, resting down on my forearms, my chest sinking into the mattress as my ass stayed in the air. My legs spread apart perfectly for him.

"My god." His tone was almost star strucken. Which would make sense,in these few years he's never seen me like this. I've ridden him reverse and been bent over his desk, but it's not like this. My right cheek rested on the top of my palm as I looked back at him, his pants already off, his eyes stuck on my ass.

"Stop ogling and Fuck me already," I wiggled my ass a little to encourage him,"I'm tired."

"I can tell, you're getting bitchy." I rolled my eyes as He took hold of my hips, pulling me closer to him. He let his right hand slid down my ass and thigh before grabbing his cock. Stroking it a few time before letting his head slide through my folds, spreading my slick over my clit and lips. His left hand slid up and down my waist, as his head rubbed my clit. His tip finally sat at my core, no words have been exchanged. He being entranced in what he's about to do, and me excited for what's about to happen. If he's good with his mouth and his fingers, and his cock already makes me crumble...well then this must be the Fuckin golden goose.

This position was actually quite comfortable, pretty relaxing. I pushed back into him a bit, perfectly timing it when he pushed into me. Sliding way more then just the tip in, taking me by surprise.

"Oh-God!" I choked out, grabbing the  sheets in my hands, my forehead on the top of my left hand.

"Now that's good." He slid out, keeping his tip In and pushing in again, deeper this time. My walls clinging around him as he stretched me out. He didn't stop if give me time to settle, just kept sliding out and pushing back in, his tip never leaving though. My moans built up from simple breathy ones to elongated pleasure filled ones as his pace increased. Hit tip hitting that sweet spot deep inside me each time he bottoms out.

I could imagine what he looked like. Eyes closed, head back. His lips parted as groans left his mouth. He'd look down occasionally, Watching his cock thrust in and out of me, seeing how my cum soaked him. watching how creamy was pussy was getting because of him.

"This is why I like fucking you." He said, leaning down, rolling his hips into my ass as he placed an open mouth kiss to my shoulder. Goosebumps spreading down my right arm and side, his lips were down by ear,"pussys always so damn good."

My right arm straightened out as I grabbed the sheets in my fist, also giving myself some support. my body pushing and pulling on the bed, my backs arch deepening into the mattress.

"Fu-uck." I choked out, my brain completely focused on the way his hands gripped my hips, the way each time he cock slid back In, a tinge of electricity shot up my spine and to my brain, completely obsessed with how his cock felt inside of me in this position. It just felt better.

Groans left his throat more frequently as his speed increased, mine were near unstoppable. A lot of it was about how good it felt, how good it was. I could hear the bed frame starting to creak a bit, skin slapping together. His left hand slid down my side, running down my stomach, his middle  and ring finger coming in contact to my clit, wasting no time to rub it generously.

"Aah yes!" I pushed back into him more. The feeling his tip hitting and rubbing against my g-spot paired with the quick rubbing against my clit was perfect. I didn't have to work for this orgasm, it was just coming. My abdomen tightening, my walls fluttering around him, my thighs twitching from the constant attention against my clit.

A whine left my throat as my Forehead buried into the mattress, my left arm extending forward like my right. My hand clinging to the sheet. My head  dizzy with pleasure, the inside of my thighs getting wetter. I yanked my right arm towards me, gripping the sheet as a rip of electric shot my spine. A moan yanked out of me which I let out in the mattress, pushing my right arm into the mattress more. I used it to push myself up a bit.

"Greg I'm-"

"Fucking give it to me." His words elongated, tone dripping with ecstasy. if I didn't know better, I'd think he was stoned. But I did just that, I gave it to him. He didn't change his pace, his didn't change anything. His finger still rubbing quickly at my clit, his hips snapping into my ass as his tip pounded my g-spot. My eyes were clamped shut, my face shoved into the mattress. He let out a chuckled groan, and I felt his cock Twitching inside of me.

“Com-come on, come on please.” I lifted my head, catching my breath as I spoke. My hairline was damp, so was my spine. His fingers left my clit as he grabbed both my hips.

Instead of getting rougher or whatever, he slowed down to a stop. He Pulled out of me and using his left hand pushed me from my hands and knees to my back. I let out a little “oh” as he Grabbed my left thigh, hooking it over his right hip, standing in between my legs. His cock his his hand as he lined it back up to my core and pushed in again.

“So fucking good.” He held both my legs on his hips, I pulled him in closer, pressing my heels into his lower back. He came down on his left hand propped up on his arm , holding my left thigh still.

I reached to the back of his head and pulled him to me, pressing my lips to his as he rocked into me, starting to regain his original pace. My right hand reached under his arm, holding onto his back, my nails wasting no time to claw onto his skin. My finger held onto whatever hair I could grasp, heatedly and breathlessly making out with him. I arched up into him, feeling his cock Twitch again. My walls were tight around him, sucking him in, waiting to be filled up by him.

I felt his pace start to falter t and he pulled away from me, his fingers dug harder into my thighs. I still held him close to me, his face hovering over mine. Eyes closed, sucked into his pleasure, tranced in it really. He regained his pace, taking in a sharp and deep inhale from his nose, letting it out as a sighed groan, coming down to place a kiss to my forehead before standing back up to his original position, my hands fell away from him, grabbing at the sheets by the thighs. He put my right leg over his shoulder, keeping my left his hip, slowly leaning down to me.

“Flexible.” He noted, as his hand made contact to the sheet just above my head.

“Oh fuuck!” I whined out, god it felt fucking good. My eyes were clamped shut again, my teeth biting down at my bottom lip. Moans erupting from my throat, but not leaving my mouth. The only sounds that came out of my lips were gasps.

So Yeah, him being able to fuck properly is the golden goose. He’s holding himself back, it’s why he’s not talking. He wants me to cum again, with him. The sleep is gonna be good after this so it’s worth it.

I could already feel my next orgasm building up, that dizziness in my head coming back, my body temp rising, My abdomen muscles tightening, my right hand taking it placed on his back again, nails clawing at their original spot. If he’s leaving hickeys, I’m leaving scars.

“I’m gonna-“ apparently I can’t announce my orgasms tonight since he just cuts me off right away.

“For the love of god, please do.” Breathy and elongated, tinged with desperation and a bit of annoyance.

It didn’t take long before I was cumming on his cock again, my walls fluttering around his deprives cock immediately setting of his own orgasm. He didn’t stop pounding into me, his warm cum coating my walls, mixing in with my own juices. his grip on the front of my calf tight, his hand held a fist full of the sheet. My ears were focused on the sound of his groans, a muttered “That’s it, that’s fucking it”, trailed off his lips, the obscene wet sounds coming from where we were connected. I’ll change the sheets tomorrow morning.

He slowed down slowly, savoring those last moments and I wasn’t arguing. I was seeing stars behind my closed lids, my chest rapidly rising and falling as I caught my breath, my pulse pounding in my neck, hearing it in my head, but it wasn’t a headache. He guiding my leg off his shoulder, holding it to his hip as he slid out, letting them both fall down gently. He stepped out from i between my legs and fell down onto the mattress next to me on his back, also catching some much needed breath.

“Still got it.” He chuckled to himself and I giggled, letting my eyes opened, feeling the tiredness creeping into my body as my high wore off.

“That was good.” I smiled, it was the remaining bit of high, as I tilted my head to look at him, he was glancing down at me. He had one hand on his chest, his right arm laid on the mattress a few inches above my head.

“I’ve been informed quite a bit.” He marked and I scoffed, pulling myself up to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling how wet the inside do my thighs were, especially how wet the sheets were.

“Mm, come back.” I felt him grab my shoulder and pull me back down to the mattress and I let him, I turned on my side to rest into his arm and side, resting my hand on his chest and he placed his hand on mine. We stayed in silence for a bit, listening to each other breathing, my eyes fell closed but I opened them again, they fluttered a bit.

“So running and screwing, is that your plan?” I asked him, glancing up a bit to look at him better. He raised his brow, a slight frown on his face from thinking, still looking wth the ceiling and then sharply nodded, a smirk now replacing the frown.

“Definitely.”

[ghuleh-recs]

c*nty Olympic figure skater Terzo and his starry-eyed hockey goon bf Omega from @ramblingoak’s iconic new speed skater!Copia AU. Run—don’t walk—to read it here: Copia on ICE!

Excerpt and costume inspo under the cut. (Yes. Yes, it is Johnny Weir.)

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!” You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone. “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.” He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face. “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.” You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look. “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.” His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response. When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.” Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it. “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early? We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now? Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.” He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening. “I’ve been practicing for weeks. Months.” You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear. “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo! We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.” You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink. “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!” Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes. “Amica mia, I know this. How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh. Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much. White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt. When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor. With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something. Your costume is 80% lace. Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.” You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench. “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.” At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team. “You should see him, cara mia. Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player. He’s the captain.”

“The captain? Then why the fuck are you still here? Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

Read the rest here!

✨ He really did that ✨