#I just find him adorable - look at that little shimmy!

[littleragondin]

Song being a little cutie in blue - The Miracle of Teddy Bear Ep.6, Ep.10

[hazelfoureyes]

I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now. 

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die. 

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

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@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[buckyalpine]

Imagine shy beefy Bucky being the little spoon. He feels like he should be the one cuddling you since he’s so much bigger but he loves when you hold him instead.

However.

There’s this one thing you do that always makes him blush and flustered and he just doesn’t understand it.

You love rubbing his tummy.

You hold him from behind, peeking over his shoulder because you love how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You know he's not actually asleep because his abs are still tensed, worried over how you'd feel with the beefiness that covers his muscular body.

He’s self conscious when your hand slips under his shirt, rubbing his soft but firm tummy up and down; his skin is so warm and you love how plush he is. He’s still getting used to the fact that he isn’t as trim as before. Not that he’s unfit. Quite the opposite. He’s a thick hunk of muscle mass. You can feel the iron like hardness that runs under his skin whenever you're pressed against him. He's so large and perfect to snuggle up with; your grabby little hands love finding their way to his stomach.

"Doll-" He whispers with pink dusted cheeks, holding your wrist away when you sneak over his waist, stroking your skin, "Doll, I- I'm not-" He struggles to get the words out, embarrassed he's not lean like Steve, "Baby, I-

“Shhh, I love you like this” you coo, kissing his shoulder. He shrugs, still not believing you. You tell him how much you adore him every time but he can't help but think back to the time where he was pure muscle without any pudge.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend, I wish I was-"

You shake your head, pressing your lips to his to stop his spiral.

"But you're my big boy" You pout, shuffling over till your straddling him, forcing him to lay back. You huff, pulling his shirt up exposing him, shimmying your hips down so you can curl up on top of his bare torso like a little kitten. You let out a content sigh, pressing your face into his stomach, peppering kisses all over before peering up at him.

"I love your body so much baby" You say sincerely, kissing just below his belly button again for emphasis. "You're so warm and soft and strong, my perfect bear"

Bucky can't help but melt over the way you melt into him, your smaller form using him as a pillow to your hearts content. If you liked him like this, always kneading away at him or trying to burrow yourself into him, who was he to say no?

Cause imagine how fucking hot he'd be when he finally embraces how good he looks with a lil beef. Imagine he stops trying to cover up with large hoodies and henley's. He works out shirtless more.

You're not the only one who drools over him anymore.

All the other trainees can't help but swoon whenever they see him at the punching back or pumping with weights. You have to claw them off him from trying to climb up his legs, desperate to have Sargent Barnes carry them with one arm with ease.

Even the other Avengers can't help but cat call at him because he looks fine af.

Sometime he lets his hair out or ties it half up along with his scruffy cheeks and Tony's taken to calling him a man slut for walking around like that.

"Tony, I don't think thats what slut mean-

"I know what it means. You're telling me he's flaunting all that around and he doesn't know he's hot while doing it? He doesn't know he's getting all this attention?"

Bucky snickers to himself while you coo over your handsome boyfriend, wrapped around him like a koala while the others watch in amusement, your hands skimming all over his body and scratching his beard.

"See? Told you you're perfect like this, big boy"

Imagine he knows you find comfort in him and he no longer feels conscious over it. Whenever your sad and in need of cuddles, he holds you nice and close, usually sans clothing, all skin to skin contact.

He knows you're a little pervert and he'll give into your puppy like eyes, sometimes letting his towel drop after a shower while you grin, shamelessly watching him.

"You're staring again, you little creep" Bucky snorted while applying lotion, dropping his hands when he felt yours paw at his back to take over.

"Just a creep for you, handsome" You quip before continuing your journey exploring his body, moving your hand to his front, deciding to wrap around his co-

Anyway, I love this beefieee babieeee

[gutsby]

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Warnings: NSFW. Every TWD character is drunk in this. Unprotected p-in-v. Soiling Michonne’s decorative towels and almost drowning Eugene. Carol-mandated makeup time with Daryl turns to edging and angry sex.

And the Oscar for Best Faked Orgasm goes to…

“Y/N,” Daryl groaned, shooting his load deep inside you.

You arched your back and curled your toes, even let out a sultry little gasp for good measure. Forced your walls to clench around his cock then pulse, periodically—you counted a silent one, two, squeeze in your head every so often and tried to make it so your tremors felt authentic. You practically had this shit down to a science by now.

Women like you weren’t built for quickies. You needed more time to cum, no matter the occasion.

You simply couldn’t and wouldn’t ever make it to climax with fifteen seconds of foreplay followed by Daryl throwing you up against the counter and jackhammering you hard on the edge for three minutes max. This wasn’t a porno, and you didn’t have a clit made of firecrackers.

Men like Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of you not cumming every time you had sex, though, so you sought to ease his mind on the matter during times you knew it was a physical impossibility to reach bliss. A liar you were not, but an occasional teller of euphoric fibs? Hell, you might’ve been tempted to dabble every now and then.

You adored the way he looked down at you when he finished, chocolate locks matted to his forehead and a smile shining bright on his face. He was tender and sweet, always gentle to pry you off of the sink, and he’d be watching you with admiration all the while.

Rick and Michonne’s booze-fueled pool parties had that effect on you both—always scrambling for a spare room to fuck in the second you arrived like you’d forgotten how good the other one looked dressed in swimwear.

Daryl shimmied the bottom half of your lime green bikini back up your legs and patted your rear with affection.

“I think Rick would be proud,” he said.

“I think Michonne would be pissed.”

You glanced down at the lovely little decorative towels Daryl had used as a sweat rag and made a mental note to wash those back at your place. You yelped when Daryl dropped his hand back down to your heat.

“Still sensitive?” he smiled.

“Uh huh.”

You were already trying to slide past his frame toward the bathroom door, where the sounds of the party outside were growing louder each minute. In truth, you knew that spot where Daryl’s fingers had almost grazed would have been a lot more sensitive had you actually just came, and that tell alone would have given your act away. You couldn’t have that, so you quickly pulled him in for a kiss and pushed his hands back up to your hips.

Daryl’s tongue traced the seal of your lips and parted them for a far more passionate kiss than you’d expected. You let his tongue roam anyway, but inside, you felt slightly confused as to why your boyfriend was still so…horny when he’d just blown his load a minute ago.

You moved languidly toward the door as Daryl continued to kiss you. He was touching your waist a little strangely, the more you came to think of it. Maybe frisky from the whiskey?

Your hand reached the doorknob the second his did. Daryl pulled away and let the corners of his mouth twist almost cruelly in a grin before turning the handle and nudging you out.

You shuffled a few awkward steps past the door. Daryl was hot on your heels, hand at the small of your back when his lips returned to your ear—just for a second, this time. He leaned in close, now, and murmured real low:

“I know you faked it.”

Then he pushed you forward again, only for you to trip over your own two feet trying to turn and face him.

“What?” you hissed. Playing dumb.

But if you could play dumb, Daryl was more than happy to play stupid as fuck. He ignored your outburst altogether and waved at someone behind you, pretending not to see you staring up at him with exasperation painting your face.

“Eugene! Swim trunks look great.”

Across the room, Eugene extended a lengthy ‘thank you’ and told Daryl that he, too, was looking snazzy, and you knew better than to try and pry Daryl’s attention away. Reluctantly, you turned around and made every effort not to show your present emotions on your face. In truth, you were nervous as fuck wondering what Daryl might do now that he knew you’d faked your climax.

You could try and make it up quick. Minimize the fallout.

The second Eugene departed, and it was just the two of you standing in the kitchen, you shamelessly reached for the outline of Daryl’s dick in his shorts.

Daryl swatted your hand away.

“My penis only goes where it’s appreciated,” he told you quietly, feigning that same stupid smile that signaled to everyone else who might pass by that things were fine.

They weren’t. Daryl probably hated your guts right now.

His seed was still dripping from your cunt, and you longed for the feeling of having him inside you, whole. But you got the sense that that wasn’t happening any time soon, as Daryl promptly greeted two more familiar faces and obliged you to mingle too. You faced Rosita and Abraham with a thinly veiled look of despair, and you gathered that the former picked up on it pretty fast.

“What’s up?” Rosita asked, pulling you to the side while Daryl and Abe chatted.

“I fucked up bad, like— legitimately screwed the pooch.”

“What did you do?”

You pursed your lips and felt the burn of Daryl’s glare over Rosita’s shoulder, sensing then that you’d probably be better off just keeping your mouth shut.

Hurriedly, you said under your breath,

“IfakedanorgasmandDaryl’sreallymad.”

“Daryl’s mad at what? Why?” Rosita said, shrill as ever.

You wanted to clamp your hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Daryl was quick to find your form lingering on his periphery and took your waist in one arm in a lasso-like motion. You guessed you’d be taken off to the slaughter any minute now—which was just getting chewed out by Daryl or given a half-dozen grumpy looks. You almost would’ve preferred the knife to the throat.

Confirming your worst fears, Daryl raised a beer with Abraham and suggested you all go for a swim.

That sounded like a setup if you’d ever heard one.

Perhaps overwrought with paranoia and a few too many Twisted Teas, you found your feet shuffling as slow as you could toward the thick sliding doors and Rosita at your rear asking what the hell was going on.

You made a big, fat ‘O’ with your hands and shook your head, hoping she’d understand—and Daryl wouldn’t see. It turned out neither of your wishes were to come true in that moment, and your boyfriend only pulled you closer to his side while the four of you strolled outside.

“Real mature,” he muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted.

“Could we please talk at a level most humans can hear?”

That last interjection was Eugene, sidling up to the group with his floaties already strapped to his biceps. You eyed the man, then his beer, then his bright red flotation devices, and hoped like hell Daryl wasn’t about to start playing drunk trivia now that your genius friend was plastered. Or worse yet, encourage him to swim.

“How many lies does the average woman tell in her life?”

You really needed to start keeping your hopes and dreams to yourself. You glared at Daryl.

Eugene was already devising some half-baked formula in his brain, or else retrieving another far-removed factoid that he’d learned on a game show in 2005, and presently answered Daryl’s question with a quirk of his brow.

“I…can’t say it’s a gender-dependent question, my friend. If I were to make an educated guess I’d give—”

“A million more for men,” Rosita interrupted, flashing a wry smile at Abraham, “Most men lie like they breathe.”

“Amen!” Carol called from the tiki bar. You loved and you hated Alexandria’s grown-up parties sometimes.

“Well maybe— maybe men lie more to get sex, but women lie about sex.” Daryl shot the most conspicuous look in your direction, and you’re fairly certain Rick and Michonne shared a look of, ‘Ah shit,’ simultaneously.

Inside, the two were secretly hoping they’d catch wind from the babysitter that Judith and RJ wanted to be picked up, or else learned that a horde of walkers had laid siege on one of the outer-facing walls, because they knew from experience that these fights never ended well. The last time you and Daryl ticked each other off in public there had come a very loud and very obnoxious karaoke rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Silver Springs’ sung drunkenly between the two of you, and frankly, no one at the party wanted to see a repeat of that.

You wrested your arm out of Daryl’s hold and took a seat opposite Carol at the bar. Nodding when she offered to pour you some tropical concoction with a lot of rum, then pretending not to see Sasha eye Daryl warily.

“Whiskey dick give him trouble?” she murmured to you.

“You say his brother’s name in bed?” Rosita quipped.

“First off, he’s dead,” you said, before dropping your voice to a whisper, “Second, it wasn’t the whiskey or anything, I just…couldn’t cum, so I faked it. That’s it!”

You figured if Daryl was airing out your dirty laundry for the whole group to hear, you might as well beat him to the punch when it came to your closest friends. You could tell Sasha was trying hard not to smirk.

“That’s…that’s it?” she reiterated.

“Just now,” you mumbled, “Don’t tell Rick and Michonne, but we were holed up in the bathroom an—”

“Anyway, okay, no details but you told a little lie, so what?” Sasha proceeded without a hitch.

Carol waved the margarita she was making in vehement agreement and handed it over to you. Telling you to drink, now, with her eyes as soon as she caught a glimpse of Daryl’s disgruntled expression across the way.

“Yeah, so what? You told a fib to keep his ego intact, what’s the harm?”

“I’m saying!” You pointed to her before taking a sip.

“I think honesty is the best policy,” Daryl declared out loud like he’d just discovered the Atlantic.

At his side, Eugene eyed him up and down as if to say, ‘What the fuck are we talking about?’ You surmised that probably only half the group understood what was going on between Daryl and you, but most got the gist that the two of you were beefing. Again. Carol proceeded to drain her piña colada like her life depended on it, and Abraham and Rick suddenly gained interest in something inside.

Daryl wasn’t backing down. In fact, he raised his voice.

“And if she’s willin’ ta lie once, who knows how many other times she—”

“Be fucking for real,” you rolled your eyes, “I wasn’t faking most other times, and you know it.”

“Most times? So ya did it other times?”

“Folks, I cannot say with utmost certainty that this is a healthy coping mechanism for a relationship like y—”

“Shut up, Eugene.”

You could tell just how incensed Daryl was by the color of his cheeks. In a world that almost never raised the hue above a baby pink, you were alarmed to see him turn a shade or two shy of crimson. You knew something lewd or unkind was likely to flare behind those cobalt eyes any second now.

“How many times for Spencer, then?” Daryl growled.

He knew that shit was off-limits. A happenstance situationship that started and ended long before you’d ever dated Daryl. Now he was just being mean.

“Alright, guys, how about we take a second to cool off?” Michonne was using the same voice she assumed whenever trying to talk Judith or RJ out of a cranky mood. You saw Daryl already had the insolent pout of the children down pat, that was for sure.

“Maybe if you’d asked Leah she would’ve said the same,” you spat.

Daryl abandoned his beer and moved closer to you, just narrowly checked by Sasha’s warning touch and even more persuasive gaze. He paused for a second, crinkled his nose, and seemed to be considering something a moment or two longer before finally deciding to be petty.

“At least I didn’t have to ask Leah to swallow.”

That was it. You reared back and chucked your bright pink strawberry marg directly at Daryl’s head, unleashing a string of unsavory names as you did so. Daryl easily side-stepped, and the next in line to receive the airborne drink was Eugene. Completely defenseless, per usual, and not at all prepared to be hit in the face by a plastic glass filled with syrup, liquor, and slush, the man was a sitting duck.

He shrieked the second it struck him below the eyebrow. His hand clamped over his eye, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Eugene!” came more than one voice, including your own.

The mulleted man wailed and spun perilously on his heels, trying blindly to make a beeline for the house but ending up walking straight into the pool ahead of him. Your whole party jumped to their feet and scrambled after him.

Apart from the aid of his arm floaties, the man was completely unable to swim—and still blinking fiercely through a sheet of strawberry-flavored ice as he flailed about in the water and cried for help.

Sasha, Rosita, Michonne, and Daryl didn’t hesitate; all four dove head first into the pool to save their friend.

Two hours had passed, and you and Daryl were still in time-out—courtesy of Carol and Michonne.

Deprived of your right to drink, smoke, fight, or fuck (at least not with condoms), you and your boyfriend had been placed in indefinite non-solitary confinement sitting perched outside the hot tub with instructions to make up, or else. So far, no words had passed between the two of you, and it had just started to rain.

Daryl waved to the kitchen window, where Carol was watching you both with narrowed eyes.

“Can we come inside now?” he groaned, motioning to the storm clouds overhead.

Carol gave him one emphatic thumbs down and turned to stir her broth on the stove.

This was your group-imposed “getting along” punishment: stay outside until you make amends. You kicked your feet in the bubbling water and cursed yourself for ever thinking it was a wise idea to stroke a man’s ego and fake an orgasm in the first place.

Then you lowered yourself into the water, seeing as there was not much else to do.

“Ya tryna be human stew? Get out,” Daryl snapped.

“Great, maybe Carol can throw me in her soup and I won’t have to continue this stupid fucking conversation.” You knew the dangers of swimming in a rainstorm, but you didn’t want to give Daryl the satisfaction of knowing you’d stop for his sake. You sank deeper into the hot tub.

Daryl slid across the wet slab of rock and concrete and reached for your shoulder.

“Quit bein’ difficult.”

“Quit being pushy,” you said with an ineffectual splash in his direction. His fingertips still seared hot on your skin as he touched you just above the shoulder blade.

“Oh, was I also bein’ pushy—” Daryl cut himself short.

You looked up, curious. Still refusing to budge.

“Pushy when?”

“When you took your pretty ass outta this tub before you got struck by lightning.”

Daryl received an unamused scowl in return. When you pressed again, he bent down and took you underneath both armpits, hauling you out of the hot tub with infuriating ease.

“Or when I…wanted to have sex and you clearly didn’t.”

Ouch. You jumped back in the water with an even deeper frown.

“I still wanted to have sex, Daryl! I just couldn’t get off as quick as you.”

“So you lied.”

You hastened to the other side of the mini pool when Daryl climbed inside. Your back flattened on the rock, and your eyes shot him a critical look as if to say, ‘I ain’t coming out.’

“Technically, you never asked,” you shrugged.

Daryl scoffed and straightened his own posture on the opposite end of the hot tub, feigning amusement but likely inflamed with irritation inside.

“I touched— I rubbed your pussy to see if you were sensitive. Don’t that mean somethin’?”

“Means you didn’t ask me shit. I never said I came.” You folded your arms across your chest in defiance, but deep down, you knew that a lie by omission was still a lie. Daryl’s facial expression communicated as much as he swam in your direction.

“So you couldn’t…ask me to wait a little longer to help you finish?” Daryl approached you close enough to graze your knees, so you felt obliged to press yourself harder against the wall, “Ya know I’d eat the cum out yer pussy if I knew it’d get ya off, sweetheart.”

Indeed, you knew. You should’ve known better than to accuse him of selfishness or inadequate communication—Daryl was a generous lover, and one who was always willing to wait, whether that meant delaying his climax or putting a pause on sex altogether. You felt an unlikely shiver in the boiling hot water when your boyfriend’s frame slipped between your legs beneath the surface.

“Even if I’d finished first, ya know I’d lick ya clean and make that pretty pussy cum all over my face an’ fingers. Ya do know tha’, right?”

He wanted to hear you say it. His hands had just started to trail a slow course up your legs as you released a shaky breath and nodded your head.

“I know, baby, I just— I just like seeing how riled up and sweaty you get when you fuck me for a quickie. You always seem so…satisfied pulling out I just hate to make you get hard all over again on my account.” Your voice was quieter then, breaking off in the gentlest whimper when Daryl’s knuckles grazed your heat.

Then, with the other hand, he moved your fingers to feel how hard he was under his swim trunks.

“Thought ya knew me better’n tha’,” he tsked you softly as he rubbed your hand up and down the length of his clothed erection, “I’m always hard fer ya, honey.”

You swallowed and sighed the second you felt him throb in your hand underwater. You wanted him now.

When your fingers fumbled for the drawstring of his shorts, however, Daryl nudged your touch away. Brought his own to the bottom of the bright green bikini you were wearing and slipped a digit underneath the fabric.

“This poor little clit,” he lamented, circling just lightly enough to draw breathy mewls from your mouth.

You spread your legs even wider to allow him access. When he pulled you to his chest, you felt his heart thrumming as fast as yours was. The light drizzle of rain overhead was growing heavier by the second.

This was not the makeup session Carol or Michonne had envisioned when they’d sent the two of you off to talk. You and Daryl just happened to make amends a little differently than most—semi-publicly, sometimes.

“Can’t imagine how bad it’s been achin’ since I last fucked that pretty little hole,” Daryl continued, index and middle finger now rubbing lazy circles over the spot where he’d pried your bikini to the side.

You sat, spread eagle with your mouth ajar and your eyes on his. Oh, how he loved you like this: partly supine and looking so pathetic. His fingers worked even faster.

“Been needin’ daddy’s touch, has it?” he teased before moving his digits to your slick entrance. Then, pressing just a finger inside and feeling your walls instinctively contract, “Now tha’s a believable squeeze.”

He smiled and you realized he knew a real clench from a fake one by now. That dramatized show you’d put on for him earlier almost made you feel ashamed now, gathering just how good a proper fingerfucking felt when you actually gave your boyfriend the chance to try.

He pushed another finger inside and curled them both with expert precision. You let out a helpless moan the second he grazed your g-spot.

“Baby, I need it,” you whimpered, “I need to cum so, so badly.”

Daryl nodded as though feeling your pleasure—and pain. He worked a vicious rhythm against your cunt and let a smile spread across his lips the longer he watched you writhe and moan amidst the hot, churning waters. When your stomach started to flutter and your entrance gave a warning pulse, you didn’t even need to inform him of your impending climax; you closed your eyes and prepared for the sweet bliss in expectant silence.

That was, until, Daryl retracted his fingers and climbed out of the hot tub.

Sorely misled ecstasy withered before your eyes.

You whined. Louder than you meant to.

“Daryl!”

Your boyfriend had taken up a spot standing at the side of the hot tub, pretending to be so overcome with heat exhaustion that he just couldn’t stay in a second longer.

He wiped his brow and watched you smugly.

“You say sumn’, sugar?” he asked as he sat down on the water’s edge to plant a kiss at the top of your head.

“You’re sick,” you muttered, dodging any additional condescending smooches by scooting over. When Daryl slowly leaned down toward the water, you scowled.

Then he patted the wet slab of concrete beside him.

“Jus’ want you to cum on my tongue. C’mon.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—clearly he couldn’t eat you out underwater, so he was just being kind to give you a place to sit while he tonguefucked you silly.

You pretended not to notice the smirk twisting at the corners of his lips as you climbed out of the hot tub and reluctantly followed his motions.

Your legs spread just a little, now perched at the edge of the sauna while Daryl sank back in the water and positioned his head perfectly with your core. A sidelong glance to the nearest window showed that Carol had disappeared from the kitchen, but you knew you would have to make this quick.

Without ceremony, you yanked a tuft of Daryl’s wet hair and guided his face even closer to your heat. Far past the point of pleasantries, you pulled your bathing suit to the side and presented yourself, bare as ever, to Daryl’s eager tongue and lips.

Your boyfriend supplied you with both in an instant, dragging his tongue up the whole length of your slit with a groan. Wanting to savor the taste, were it not for your quiet pleas for him to finish this, please, Carol could be back any minute.

Daryl lapped between your folds, happy as ever, and left a series of suctioned kisses on the spots where he knew you needed him most. Gripped your thighs in either hand, pulled your bottoms so far he almost snapped the fabric in half, and practically devoured that needy cunt.

The man was a pussy-eating prodigy, to put it mildly. He dove deep between your thighs like oxygen was the furthest thing from his mind and sucked on your clit as if it were a lifeline. Your back arched out of instinct, legs clamping on either side of his head and chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths. You moaned and felt Daryl’s own grunts join the reverberations shaking your body; for a second, you thought you were almost seeing stars.

When Daryl inserted two fingers and swirled his tongue around that sensitive nub, you were certain that moment was soon to come.

“Mmm, just like that, baby, fuck,” you breathed, rutting your hips ever slightly against his face. Daryl, soaked with your arousal and waves of scalding water, just held his place and kept licking over, and over, and over.

Your grip fastened harsher in his hair the second a pleasant coil pulled tight along your tummy. You planted your calves on either side of Daryl’s neck, braced your body to the concrete, and felt a heady bliss make its second appearance of the night.

A quiet slurp marked the sudden disconnect between Daryl’s mouth and your aching core. You almost fell off the edge of the hot tub as your mind and body both stopped devastatingly short of full climax. This time, you almost shrieked.

“DARYL!”

“Got a tongue cramp. Sorry.”

Too bad he was grinning from ear-to-ear with no trace of a muscle spasm anywhere on his face. You splashed him with a massive wave and went scrambling to your feet.

“Fuck this. I’ve got a vibrator at home.” You were already pulling your panties back in place, muttering some less-than kind words under your breath, and kicking yourself twice for ever believing Daryl was mature enough to treat this as anything other than a game.

“Hey! Baby, wait!” Daryl called after you. Then he was getting up and getting out too.

“You blame me for fucking around, and you— you go and pull some shit like this?!”

You waved a silent, dismissive hand when Daryl started after you, trailing hot on your heels with a look that almost would’ve seemed apologetic had he not been fighting a laugh the entire time.

When his hands landed on your shoulders from behind, you moved to shrug him off and told him, with a finger supplanting your words, to get fucked. You groaned internally when Daryl pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s called edging, sweetheart,” he hummed in your ear.

“It’s called being an asshole and shutting my orgasms down on purpose.” You wriggled to free yourself from his arms but found the man behind you unwilling to cooperate; in fact, the more you struggled, the more snug his grasp got. You battled against his far superior strength no longer than a minute or two before Daryl plucked you right off your feet and into a bridal hold.

“What do we say when we really wanna cum?” he asked, almost patronizing. Then, as if to put a finer point on it, he ambled toward the edge of the pool and swayed your soft, soaking frame over it.

“You’re fucking crazy!” you hissed, still wrestling against his chest.

You sensed that might not have been the wisest choice of words given your current predicament, but Daryl didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Did I hear a ‘please’ in there?” he asked, rocking you back and forth over the water’s edge.

“Please put me down.” Your voice was low and importunate, eyes warning him just the same.

“O-kay.”

And down you went. Into the pool. Your boyfriend still cradling you in his arms while you thrashed and splashed and called him every profane name in the book.

You’d just swept the wet mass of hair from your forehead when Daryl pinned you to the wall. Your back was flush to his chest, and his breath was hot on your ear.

“Promise y’ain’t gonna fake it this time?” Daryl murmured through gritted teeth, one hand yanking your swimsuit bottoms to the side and the other pulling his own down his hips.

You gripped the side of the pool and cast a quick look to the kitchen. Carol was nowhere in sight, but who knew how much longer she—and everyone else—would be gone? You bit your lip when Daryl dragged the head of his cock between your legs.

“We can’t do this, Dar—”

“I said, are you gonna fake it? Pretty simple question.”

Your folds had already parted with his length in between them, hole pleading for his entry when all he had done was rut his hips in place and tease your slit. You pressed your ass right into him and tried hard not to whine as you sensed your cover could be blown at any moment. Daryl nipped at the skin behind your ear and repeated his question, this time enveloping your frame with his when he bent you over the side of the pool.

Your eyes flickered to the warm glow of the kitchen, and you felt the rain come down even harder—your vision, with the distance and the downpour, was almost totally obscured.

Fuck it.

“Promise I won’t— I swear.” Your voice now scarcely above a whisper.

That seemed to satisfy Daryl well enough. No more than a second later, he was plowing inside you, gripping your hip for support and your hand in his own for what seemed to be encouragement of sorts. You squeezed his fingers back as soon as the first influx of pleasure rolled through you.

“Quiet, quiet for me, baby,” Daryl warned close to your ear, gaze scanning the house for any new onlookers, “Jus’ stay. fuckin’. quiet.”

He wasted no time railing you from behind—an impressive feat for a man standing halfway underwater—and simultaneously kept a lookout for your friends inside. Before him, you’d folded like a lawn chair over the wet concrete, yielding to each thrust like you were born for this position and made to take his cock. Then your walls clenched around him, whimpers came loud and fast, and the rain beat a shrill cadence all around.

Daryl dropped a hand to your clit and smiled the second you whined and almost bucked him off. Finally, that sweet sensitivity was back.

He knew from two false starts and more hard edging than you ever would have liked to endure, you wouldn’t last long. You felt a pressure on your neck bringing you up to his chest and those same, ardent lips almost charring your skin when they pressed above your ear:

“Who’s a good girl?”

Another sharp thrust in your cunt.

“I am,” you cried, clawing at his wrist the second his fingers started tightening around your throat. Almost unable to bear it, but loving it all the same.

“Gonna be honest with daddy ‘bout those orgasms?” Daryl chided, “Make a mess of daddy’s cock like yer s’posed’a?”

You nodded as best you could with your throat trapped in his hold and your lips damn near turning blue the second he got to kissing them. Your back arched into his chest, and your body convulsed with pleasure the deeper he went. Daryl loved the way you watched him as he did.

That was what he’d missed. That was what he knew you couldn’t muster in your piss-poor performances of late, what had tipped him off to the truth of your euphoric state with times like today. This was what he needed to see every time he fucked you from now on—if he had to spend a lifetime or two trying to get you there, so be it.

Daryl caught your lips in a long, heated kiss before bottoming out inside you. The sharp nudge to your insides and the brush against your most delicate spot was more than enough to push you over the edge.

Bliss broke through your body like a bat out of hell, and your moans rang loud in Daryl’s mouth as he fucked you through it. And, sadistic motherfucker that he was, he actually smiled when your teeth sank through his lip and drew blood from the surface.

All he cared was that you came, no bullshit this time.

As a metallic tang and an ecstatic trance washed over you, your body went limp in Daryl’s arms. He pulled out, still hard, and rubbed a hand over your ass underwater.

You could feel him beaming with pride right behind you.

But, just when he moved to turn you around, a sight in the bushes sent your heart in your throat. One dark patch of foliage shook with unusual force a few yards away, and you heard some sticks break as someone, shielded by leaves, appeared to lose their balance.

Daryl’s grip on you locked, then tightened, then dropped altogether when a clumsy form came tumbling out.

“EUGENE!”

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 04 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: fingering (f! receiving), squirting, praise kink (lightly), friends to lovers word count: 3.5K notes: hi everyone <3 if you have been following this little series I am so sorry for the insane delay in posts, I have been struggling with my health recently and it took me a lot longer to write this than I hoped! but I am feeling better now and I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed reading. as always, thank you so, so very much for any and all likes, reblogs and/or comments 🥲🫶 MDNI | 18+

The night didn’t go the way you had expected it to, in all honesty. You thought you would probably kiss him, tentatively at first, and maybe eventually with a little tongue. You assumed he would be shy, that you may have to guide his hands to your body and encourage him to feel you under his palms. You had fantasized about going farther, giving him head, but you didn’t think you would actually get the chance to. And the last thing you expected was to find yourself in the position you were in now, with Choso practically begging you to let him return the favor. He wasn’t quite sure how to please you yet, but he was determined to try. And he was not about to pass up the opportunity to show his gratitude to you, not after you had just given him the gift of your mouth. You could see the adoration and lust in his deep purple eyes as he gazed at you, and you couldn’t help but give in.

“Well, maybe I could show you first if you want,” you offered as you were seated on his lap, thighs straddling his as you ran the tip of your finger up the hem of his t-shirt. “I could teach you what I like, and then you could try it?” Your gaze met his, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to make him feel too overwhelmed too fast. Choso had gone from never kissing a girl to having his first sexual experience in the span of a few hours, and you were nervous that taking your clothes off for him might just do him in. But Choso was determined and nodded eagerly in response to your suggestion.

“Yeah, teach me… I want to know how to please you,” Choso said, his voice huskier. His lips parted ever so slightly as he looked at you, taking in your face—the soft kindness of your eyes, the slight flush of your cheeks, and your pretty lips. He wondered if you could feel how devoted he was to you at this moment, see it in his eyes how he ached to please you, to make you feel as good as you made him feel. You smiled at him softly, running a hand through his deep brown locks before pressing a lingering kiss to his parted lips.

“Do you have a mirror?” You asked him after pulling away, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes that made Choso’s brain drop straight to his dick.

After fishing through the cluttered drawers of his and Yuji’s shared bathroom, you finally procured an old dollar-store hand mirror. Choso followed you back to his living room, quiet confusion evident on his face as you instructed him to sit down with his back against the couch's armrest. You swallowed down the last bit of your nerves as you shimmied your sweatpants off, your eyes glancing over to Choso’s with a meek smile. Choso’s eyes were glued to your figure the entire time, gazing in awe as you revealed more of your bare skin to him. He was still confused about what you had planned, but it was easy enough for him to become distracted by your body. His hands found your hips tentatively as you joined him on the couch, slotting your body between his legs as you laid back against his chest. His palms smoothed down over your thighs so softly as you leaned into him, as if he may hurt you or scare you away if he put too much pressure.

“You’re so pretty like this,” you heard him murmur into your ear, more to himself than to you. He shifted behind you, perching his chin onto your shoulder to watch as his hands traced over your body, relishing the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms. “Just want to touch you everywhere.” You could feel his breath ghosting over your ear as he leaned over your back, the pressure of his hands becoming hungrier as he grew more comfortable touching you.

You laughed contentedly as you settled back into Choso’s chest, in no rush to hasten his exploration of your body. You leaned into his touch, letting your knees fall relaxed and parted into the caging of his own as his palms groped the backs of your thighs, moving closer to your ass. Choso let out something akin to a grunt as he felt all the curvy parts of you melding into his touch, felt the way your body relaxed into his, starting to open up to him. He barely even registered that he was searching for your skin with his mouth until you let out a light, shuddered moan when his tongue pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“Mmm, Choso… Are you sure you haven’t done this before,” you teased him lightly, extending your head to the side to give his lips even more access to the skin there while his hands continued to play with the shape of your body. “Never,” he slurred haphazardly against your skin, far too intrigued by your taste and feel to form any coherent response. You felt his hands sliding back up toward your hips again as his tongue worked against your neck, drunkenly enthusiastic in his efforts to consume as much of you as possible. His thumbs pushed up your hips, sliding under the elastic of your underwear before he realized that he had entered new territory. His lust-heavy eyes turned once again to gaze over your shoulder, watching the space between your thighs as his thumbs poked out from your underwear line, dangerously close to the space he wanted to see the most.

“Is this okay?” He asked you breathlessly, already worked up again from the excitement of touching you like this. You nodded against his shoulder, turning your head to look at his face, the tip of your nose brushing against his. “You can take them off if you want,” you told him softly, your eyes mirroring the same want you burning in his dark irises.

“Can I?” Choso swallowed dryly, his thumbs lightly pulling on your underwear's waistband, restlessly toying with it. He wasn’t anxious to see more of you but more so just engulfed by the privilege of being with you like this, to have the honor of you trusting him with your body. “Wanna see how pretty you are here too,” he said softly, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours as you twittered with affection. You kissed him in response, smiling against his mouth as your lips melded together, one of your hands reaching up around the back of his neck to lace your fingers through his hair.

You held each other like this for a few moments, the emotions between you soft, the slightest stirrings of a young love flitting in your stomach, like the beginning of spring. Choso’s hands tentatively began to push the waistband of your underwear down slowly enough that you could stop him if you wanted. But you didn’t, only breaking away from his lips so you could lift your hips with a smile, helping him to slide the fabric down your legs. You settled back against his chest once you were free of the garment and positioned the mirror between your parted thighs, laughing lightly to yourself at the very hands-on anatomy lesson you were about to give.

Choso’s chin was propped up on your shoulder again, wetting his lips as you angled the mirror between your thighs so he could see the reflection of your glistening heat. “Can you see okay?” You giggled as you asked him, feeling the slightest bit shy as you bared the most intimate part of your body open for him to see. Choso nodded quickly against your shoulder, suddenly feeling like his words were caught in his throat as he stared hungrily at the reflection of your pussy in the mirror. He had never seen a woman naked before, but he felt his body reacting to the sight of you almost instinctually. His cock, which had been steadily swelling up beneath his sweats, was now pressed firmly against the plush of your ass. His hands were groping longingly at your inner thighs, his fingertips just barely teasing the swell of your outer lips. You took a breath before you trailed your free hand down to yourself, parting your folds open more so Choso could see all of you. He groaned low in his throat at the sight.

“You’re beautiful… So, so beautiful.” His fingertips grazed closer to your wetness, his breath heavy next to your ear. “Want to touch you, pretty girl, please… Need to feel how soft you are.” Choso’s words were hungrier in your ear now, needier as he devoured your slick skin with his eyes. “I’ll show you how,” you told him softly before you gently took his hand in your own and guided it between your thighs.

Choso watched unblinking as you placed his middle finger on top of your clit, with your hand resting gently on top of his own as a guide. “This is the clitoris,” you said to him gently, pushing your middle finger down into his. “It feels really good when you touch it… Kind of like this,” you explained, trying to make your voice sound confident despite the way it shook from the feeling of his fingers on you.

You rubbed your finger over his to demonstrate how you would touch yourself, biting your lip when Choso mimicked the movement against your sensitive skin. He rubbed circles into your swollen bud with his calloused fingertip, the digit gliding effortlessly over your flesh from how wet you were already. His other hand gripped the plush of your thigh with vigor, holding onto it like an anchor. Choso wanted to treat you gently; you were so soft to him, so pure, he didn’t want his excitement to get the best of him, despite the way he felt every one of his senses desperate to devour you at that moment.

“Am I doing it right?” He asked you, breathing heavily next to your ear as he let your hand guide him, slowly adding pressure on his own as he became more familiar with your body. It brought him so much pride to know that he was making you feel good; he wanted to please you as much as he possibly could, do everything and anything you wanted. So he followed the cues you gave him diligently, watching the reflection of your pussy in the mirror, how the small hole at the bottom of you seemed to tighten up when he pressed a little harder.

“Uh huh, you’re doing so good for me, Cho,” you praised him sweetly, the pitch of your voice rising slightly in your effort to keep your moans in. You bit your lip harder, trying to stay quiet enough to continue to give Choso instructions, but it was getting increasingly difficult. You guided his movements for a few more moments before you removed your hand from his and let him continue at his own pace, opting instead to hold onto his forearm.

“I wanna make you feel really good,” Choso slurred against your skin as he turned to bury his face into your neck once more, sloppily sucking on your exposed skin. His fingers kept moving, dragging circles around the swell of your clit, experimentally running up and down the bump, and your hips twitched in his lap in response. A louder moan escaped your lips at the increase of sensations, and Choso groaned at your reaction. “Wanna make you sound like that again, too,” he moaned back to you with a grin, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and causing your nails to claw into his forearm. You let out a breathless laugh at his enthusiasm, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You can put your fingers inside me if you want,” you encouraged him. You pushed down on his wrist lightly to guide his movements as he turned back to look in the mirror, watching the reflection as his fingers inched towards your entrance. Choso was inexperienced, yes, but he knew enough about sex to have an idea of where you wanted him—and based on the way your hole pulsed as he touched you, he felt certain that was where you needed him most. His long middle finger dipped down your slit as he gently grazed the outside of it, and you whimpered softly.

“Right here?” Choso asked you breathlessly, circling your entrance as you moaned out your approval. You hadn’t realized how worked up you were until this moment, suddenly feeling desperate to be stuffed full of his thick fingers. And the slow pace that Choso was massaging outside of you was starting to feel agonizingly teasing. “Right there,” you echoed back to him, your nails digging into his forearm with the anticipation of being touched.

“You feel so wet… Are you always like this?” He groaned as he watched his fingers circle you, pulling away just to watch the clear fluid you leaked stick to his fingertips. “It means you’re making me feel good, Choso,” you moaned to him, grinding your core into his fingers to try and get more friction. Choso smiled to himself at your praise as the tip of his finger found your entrance once more, putting the lightest touch of pressure against the ring of muscle.

“More, Choso, please,” you begged him, and you sighed out in pleasure as he happily obliged, finally pushing his thick finger inside of you. Your body welcomed him easily, the wetness of your arousal coating his skin as he slid inside of you, moaning at the feeling of your body wrapped around him. “You’re so warm inside,” he groaned, pushing his finger into you until he had filled you up to his knuckle. You moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation partially satiating your craving for him, but not enough.

“Add another finger, Cho,” you instructed him as you started to bounce your hips against his hand gently. “And then move them in and out together, and just keep doing that.” Your voice was breathier now, more desperate as his touch got more intimate. Choso nodded over your shoulder, watching with parted lips as he pulled his finger almost entirely out of you before adding his ring finger. You whimpered as he thrust his fingers inside of you—slowly stretching you open—and your hips twitched to meet his hand.

“Like this?” Choso asked you huskily, pumping you full of his fingers as your cunt squelched and leaked around them. You moaned in approval for him as you laid your head back to rest on his shoulder, bracing your body against his broad frame. Your breath was quickening, your inner walls beginning to clench and unclench around him faster. You watched his veined forearm between your thighs, muscles rippling as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the sight only making you feel hotter as you rolled your hips to press into him.

You abandoned the mirror to bring your hand to yourself, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing circles into the bud in time with Choso’s thrusts. His grip on your thigh tightened, instinctively pulling your leg open more to watch you touch yourself. He groaned at the sight, eyes heavy-lidded as he felt your walls tighten up around his fingers even more as you rubbed circles into your clit. “Does that feel good?” Choso’s words were heavy next to your ear. You could feel his thick cock pressed into your backside, rolling his bulge into the swell of your ass unconsciously every time you writhed in his lap.

“L-love it, Cho,” your voice came out as a whine as your breathing became more labored, watching his thick fingers pump in and out of you, glistening with your arousal. “Your fingers feel so good inside of me,” you praised him, and Choso groaned behind you before attaching his lips back onto your neck, sucking more marks into the already-bruising skin. He felt utterly consumed by you, and feeling how hot and tight and wet you were around his fingers made him feel some primal kind of urge to sink his teeth into you, to taste you, to hold you, to take you. How he longed to feel those tight, wet walls wrapped around his cock. Choso felt like he could get off from the thought of it alone now that he knew just how soft and warm you were inside.

“Wanna make you cum, pretty girl, please… Wanna feel you cum on my fingers,” he slurred into your skin, moaning like he was the one being pleasured, practically whimpering into your ear. You clenched around his fingers from hearing his needy tone, your hand rubbing faster, stronger circles into your clit.

“Need you t-to curl your fingers into me a little more; can you do that for me?” You begged breathlessly between moans, hoping he could follow along without any further direction. Choso hummed in approval and you felt his fingers curling up, pushing up into your walls, drawing closer and closer each time to exactly where you needed him until he landed right on that spot inside of you. You wailed as his fingers curled into you with precision, your back arching to press further into his hand. Choso groaned at your reaction, utterly enamored with making sure you made that sound over and over again, diligently pressing up into the same spot inside of you with a fast rhythm.

“Is this the spot you like?” Choso rasped against your neck. His fingers were moving quicker and more confidently as your body began to tremble in his arms. He was quickly learning the cues your body gave him, from how your back arched into his touch, how your breathing changed, or how your nails dug harder into his forearm. Words failed you suddenly as you felt that dizzying heat inside of you rising—coil winding tighter inside of your core as you worked yourself up with Choso’s fingers—and all you could do was nod your head desperately. You reached your free hand up and back, arm bending to tighten around his neck, anchoring yourself even further to his body as he pushed you further and further towards your edge.

“Gonna cum, Choso,” you warned him breathlessly, breasts heaving as you braced your body against his. Your legs shook despite the tight hold he had on your thigh, keeping you open for him as your walls began to clench tighter and faster around his fingers. He groaned into your ear as you writhed in his lap, your ass rubbing up against his erection, the delicious friction making him feel like he was about to spill himself.

You could feel that familiar heat, but something else along with it—a sharper build that was flooding your senses with want every time the pads of his fingers massaged against the rough patch of your inner walls. But you were too pleasure-drunk and gasping in Choso’s arms to recognize it until suddenly you were crying out and gushing around his fingers. Choso kept curling his fingers into you, groaning under his breath as he watched you squirt onto his hand as whimpers slipped past your lips, chest heaving and lips parted open.

Your hips twitched in his lap, your body quivering as your brain unraveled in waves of pleasure. Choso’s hips stuttered against your body until he stopped abruptly with a deep groan against your ear, his fingers stilling inside of you while his other hand clutched tightly to your thigh. Whimpered pants left your lips as you started to come down from your orgasm, slumping back against Choso’s shoulder. “Oh my god, Choso,” you laughed breathlessly, your cheeks flushed and body still buzzing from the aftershocks of just squirting all over his fingers. “That was so good; you did so good,” you clarified enthusiastically, turning your face to give him a winded smile.

Choso’s cheeks were flushed just as much as yours, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder. He slid his fingers out of you to hold your other thigh, softly rubbing your skin as he caught his breath. “I did good?” He asked you with a boyish smile, turning his head on your shoulder to meet your eyes. You laughed giddily at his reaction, kissing his cheek affectionately. “More than good, Choso. I– don’t even think you realize how amazing that was for me,” you giggled to him, thinking of how you might possibly begin to explain the concept of squirting to him after all of this. Choso just beamed at you in response, seemingly still coming down from his own physical exertion.

“It was good for me, too,” Choso smiled sheepishly at you. It didn’t take long for all the clues to click into place about exactly how “good” it had been for him, especially once you realized that his noticeable bulge had suddenly vanished. You pressed another soft kiss to Choso’s cheek before your lips met his, tenderly and slowly. The heat of the moment had settled into a warm calm, the song of the long-forgotten movie’s ending credits rolling on in the background of the living room.

AN: omg I have been so nervous to upload this because I feel like my writing skills are so rusty 🥲 but I really hope that everyone still enjoyed this 🫶 also, if you had asked to be tagged and were not, I am so sorry! I decided not to do tags on this one because it had been so long and I wasn't sure who all was still interested 🥲

[chosoisamalewife]

Fucking Choso raw 🔥

Choso x male!reader

WARNINGS - SMUT - MDNI - top!reader - bottom!choso - no protection (ofc) - slight breeding kink? - needy choso - choking - let me know if i miss anything

You were standing at the stove focusing on making breakfast that you didn’t hear the footsteps of your boyfriend coming down the stairs. All of the sudden you felt strong arms and a bare chest pressed against your bare back. Choso rested his chin on you shoulder watching you cook.

“Oh, sleeping beauty is awake.” You teased him as you freed hand raised to touch his cheek. You earned not nothing but a sleepy hum from him. The softness of him caused you to chuckle. “Well, half awake.” You added before going back to cooking. He stood there for a few minutes just watching as you work realizing you aren't going to give him the attention that he is craving he decided to make a move. He began to move his hands up and down your abdomen near where your v-line began up to your pecs. He even started to nuzzle his face in your neck. You quickly to notice of the hard on pressing against you.

You let out a little "tsk" noise at his actions and his desperation. "Did I not fuck you enough last night baby?" He raised his head from your neck. You weren't even looking at him but you just knew he was giving you a pitiful pout.

He put his face back in your neck as he slid his hands down to your v-line again "You did." He whined softly into your skin. You let out a chuckle before turning off the stove. You shimmied out of his grasp to plate the cooked food. The actions caused a much louder whine escaped his throat.

"Are you sure about that, because it doesn't seem that way." He reached for you again, but you dodge his grasp. He stood there staring at you in disbelief. You couldn't contain your smile at his action. He gets needy like this often, but you can't deny how adorable he is when he is like this.

You covered your food before turning to him, his eyes still glued to you. "You need something baby?" You asked with a teasing tone to his voice. He is shy when it comes to asking directly for things, but it's especially when it comes to sex. He approached you slowly testing the waters, you welcomed it by planting your hands on his built figure. "Say it baby, use your words. You know I love it when you do."

"Fuck me please." He said it so quietly that it was almost inaudible. You gave his waist a squeeze signaling again, he took a deep breath." I want you to fuck me again." He said a little louder, you gave him a smile before crashing you lips against him. He gasps against your lips allowing you to shove your tongue in his mouth, he gripped you. Your tongue licked and explored his mouth before pulling away. You watched as he chased your lips.

"Go to the room baby." He quickly moved on your command; you watched him quickly disappear up the stairs. You stroll up to the room no to long after him. When you arrived at the room he was sitting on the edge of the bed. You cocked your head as you did the come here motion with your fingers. He didn't say a word, he just stood up walking towards you. When he gotten close enough to reach you hooked your fingers in the hem of his boxers pulling his body against, he couldn't contain the quick gasp that left his mouth. You took his face in your hands making him look at you. "You're such a needy boy you know that." His brows furrowed as you spoke." I fucked you all last night and now you wake up begging for m-"

" I didn't beg." Words that were meant to be only thoughts left his mouth, interrupting you. He realized it when you released his face. "I'm sorry." He looked away from your gaze. You tilted his chin making him look at you again.

"You're so lucky that I find you adorable when you are needy." You pressed a quick kiss against his lips, he let out a soft sigh of relief at your gentle action." Take off your boxers and get back on the bed, ass up." He nodded quickly before doing everything you said. You gotten rid of your sweat pants as you watch him settle himself. You crawled on the bed behind him. You placed your hand on his shoulder bladers forcing his face and chest again the bed, the rest of his torso arching with his ass up. "That's more like it." You moved the hand that was on his shoulder blades down his spine slowly. You watched as goosebumps formed on his cool skin. You moved lower to his rim. "I don't think i have to prep you baby, your needy hole is still lose for me." Your fingers continued to circle but never dipping into his hole. "Do you want me to still finger you baby?" He instantly shook his head at your question, the exact response you knew you would receive.

"No! I want you inside me, please." He turned to look at you as best he could, staring at you with pleading eye. You nodded your head, reached on the nightstand for the lube and condoms." No!" He said quickly and frantically. It startled you lightly.

"What is it baby?" You asked a mixed of confused and concern. You waited for his reply but it come." Don't go silent on me baby, I'm not a mind reader you have to tell me what you do and don't want."

"No condom, please. I want to feel all of it" You placed the condoms back on the nightstand and returned to the position. He placed his face and chest back down on the mattress as you returned. You squirted the lube on your hand and on his rim. You heard a little gasp from him as you did.

You rubbed the lube all over your cock before entering him slowly. You inhaled and exhaled deeply through your nose at the feeling of his bare walls. This wasn't the first time y'all have done it raw but it wasn't something that common. But it wasn't something you would every deny him.

You began to move your hips earning whimpers from your lover. "More please." You heard him whimper softly. Your hands gripped his hips tightly before setting a more brutal pace. His whimpers increased in volume as the pace changed. You watched as he buried his face in the pillows muffling his noised. You reached around grabbing his throat and pulling him up, so your chest was against his back. His whimpers became moans at the changed of angle. "Don't you dare, I want to hear every single noise you make" You whispered in his ear, thrusting hard inside of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." His voice sounded so pitiful signaling he was about to cum. You watched from behind him as his cock bounced with each thrust. Your other hand reached to cup the head of his cock, rubbing it. Your actions earning such a lewd noise from him.

"You about to cum baby, is my needy boy about to cum." He nodded his head, he gripped on your hand that was on his throat. "Cum baby." He instantly cummed in the palm of your hand. You continued to fucked his hole gritting your teeth as he clenched around you. You pushed him back down smacking his ass. He shrieked at the smack plus the overstimulation of you continuously pounding his ass. "We aren't done baby. I'm getting one more out of you before I'm cumming." A loud cry escaped his mouth." What? You wanted this, you decided to be so damn needy." You thrust harshly at the last words. You pulled his hair making him lean back. "Fuck you feel so good like this baby."

He gripped onto the pillows in a death grip. "I'm-." He could barely get his words out, his voice cracking and breaking

"You about to cum again baby, already?" He nodded his head. " Cum while I paint your back in my cum." He let out a loud gasp and started to shake his head no, not caring about the grip that you had on his hair.

"In me please, cum in please." You let go of his hair letting the top half of him fall against the bad. You digged your fingers in his waist again as you set that brutal pace again. "You want me to cum in you baby? Filling you up with my cum and breeding your cute ass?" He moaned loudly, his body shaking as your word sent him over the edge. You leaned your head back as you fucked him through his orgasm, you grunted as you spill your cum inside of him. His body fell limp on the bed and yours did too. You laid your body on top of his as y'all catch y'all breaths. His hands reached and before searching for yours, which you took noticed and grab the back of his.

He whimpered as you withdrawal your cock from him. He laid there with his eyes closed. "You want to bathe and then eat ." He nodded his head slightly not moving any other part of his body, not even opening. "Okay, I'll start the bath."

When the bath was finally filled, he laid in there with his back against your chest. Your hands dancing softly on his body. You watched his beautiful face resting with his eyes closed. "I don't you cared about food right now." You whispered softly not wanting to disturb him

[bones4thecats]

Could I get some headcannons about MC with a very affectionate Rook!Tsum? Lil buddy's just looking at you with reverence and awe. He even presented you a rose!

MC finds it adorable especially since their S/O Rook can be busy with Pomefiore duties

A/N: I forgot how much I love the french language! After writing this though, *boom* memory re-unlocked! Thank you for the request @voidlesslove! And have a nice day/night, enjoy~~

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🏹 Rook is quite busy with helping Vil out, mornings and afternoons

🏹 When you heard about the tsums coming into your world, you just froze

🏹 You remembered that MC was complaining about how Crowley was nearly done finding the tsums a way home, while theirs was still delayed

🏹 You were talking a walk through Pomefiore’s gardens when you felt a slight nudge to your hand when laying it underneath a beautifully turning leaf

🏹 Looking behind the turning-golden leaf, you saw a little Tsum! Rook

🏹 When it held out a rose to you, you just chuckled

🏹 Your boyfriend was busy handling Vil and his beauty-routine again, but seeing this lil guy made you day better!

🏹 Taking the rose, you laughed as it jumped into your hand, leaving small pecks on your fingers

🏹 You stayed with the tsum there for nearly an hour before hearing the laughs of your boyfriend approach

🏹 Tsum! Rook jumped up and down, referencing you to get down as he got into the bushes

🏹 You held him up until he shimmied through and you stood up

🏹 You felt hands wrap around you as your boyfriend’s laugh burst out from behind you

“ Ma belle fleur, what are you doing out here? “

🏹 Grabbing behind his neck, you felt a small being pop out onto your head, recognizing the pressure

🏹 Tsum! Rook handed you another red rose as your boyfriend looked up at the being and smiled a familiar smile

🏹 It was meant to withhold his anger

“ S/O, who is this? They look familiar, I must say! “

🏹 After explaining it all, Rook grabbed the being and handed you a small version of yourself

“ How about we switch for a while? “

🏹 You hung out with Tsum! You while Rook stood behind a tree and spoke to his Tsum-self

🏹 Eventually when Crowley said they had a way home, Rook held his hands underneath yours as your tsum-selves ‘hugged’ each other and you laughed as Tsum! Rook put a petal in your hand as your tsum-self did the same to Rook

( Ma belle fleur - French for " My beautiful blossom " )

[fyodorloveclub]

☾ SWEET DREAMS ? ☽

for: @hotaru-morii, vi, and perry

✧ pairing: dazai x fem reader

✧ cw: DARK CONTENT, somnophilia, dub-con, implied that reader enjoys it but still asleep, vaginal sex, brief vaginal fingering, dazai being a horndog, 18+ only MINORS DNI!

✧ notes: the second fic for my 1k event !! thanks again to everyone who requested im having a super fun time with these heehee

✧ wc: 1k

dark content disclaimer: pls remember this is entirely fiction with absolutely no reflection of reality! i do not condone this nor any other dc i write, pls just block or unfollow if you don't like it, and do NOT report or leave hate comments please!

Dazai stared at the erection that was throbbing between his legs, straining against the thin fabric of his boxers that were already stained with precum. It was 3:42 AM and he had just woken up from quite the wild sex dream, unconsciously rutting hard against the mattress and groaning into his pillow like a teenage boy. Now Dazai just laid there pitifully on his back and wondered what to do with himself.

He looked to his left to see you sleeping ever so peacefully next to him, your back facing him as you hugged your pillow and snored softly. And he wanted you so fucking bad.

Dazai knew that he could wake you up, but he really didn’t want to. You had been having a rough time with school and work, and this was the first night you had made it to bed before 2 AM in over a week – you didn’t deserve to be woken up. But that didn’t negate the fact that he was painfully hard, and his hand was not going to cut it.

He flipped onto his side to face you, and watched with adoration in his eyes as you stirred lightly and whispered a few incoherent sentences in your sleep. There was no way he could wake you up.

His eyes flitted downwards. You were curled into a slight fetal position and the blankets were only half on you after Dazai had thrown them off himself, meaning your almost bare ass was on full display. He traced the edges of your thin panties with his finger and argued with himself in his head.

Was it wrong to fuck you in your sleep? Maybe, potentially. But was he so overwhelmingly horny and in need of relief he could barely think straight? Definitely.

He’d do his best to not wake you up.

Being sure to not make any too sudden or jolty moves, Dazai shimmied his boxers off to free his cock, the angry red hue visible even with only the dim light filtering in from the window. Even just gripping it made him hiss.

Back on his side now, he was starting to feel a bit guilty as he eyed your peaceful frame, but now all he could imagine was your perfect pussy wrapped around his neglected cock and there was no way he was getting that out of his head.

Dazai used two fingers to pull your panties to the side then slid his digits past your cheeks, using only touch to find your pussy. It wasn’t hard – he knew your body like the back of his hand. He pulled back his fingers briefly to coat them in spit before returning.

His fingertips grazed your entrance and circled it slowly, checking for any reaction from you, before pushing past your hole. You were still out cold, but Dazai could feel the muscles react at the sudden presence of his fingers. He didn’t plan for them to be in there long, just needed to pump them in and out a few times to at least prep you a little. The knot in his stomach and the heat between his thighs wouldn’t allow for much more than that.

Before Dazai even knew what he was doing, he was pressing his chest to your back and lining himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock lingering briefly before burying himself inside you. A small whine fled your lips as he bottomed out and he stilled immediately, but you immediately returned back to your limp state.

Meanwhile, Dazai’s lips almost bled as his teeth dug into them trying to hold back the groans of relief that he so badly wanted to let out. He had planned to take it slow, just lazy thrusts to get him through, but he couldn’t help himself.

Dazai grabbed your leg at the knee and raised it to grant him better access before pulling out and thrusting back into you, probably harder than he should have. The attention his desperate cock was finally getting sent electricity through his veins, and he was damn near seeing stars.

Soon he was hiking your leg up more before letting himself fall into a rhythm, rocking in and out of you with increasing speed. The feeling of your perfect pussy wrapped around his hard-on, clenching around him was intoxicating, and he needed more. Every thrust was only making Dazai bolder. And the way you were quickly slicking up without even knowing it wasn’t lost on him, either.

Dazai was fucking into you greedily now, struggling to not take advantage of the fact that you were still fast asleep, despite the pitiful whines and moans you let out unconsciously. Every thrust squelched loudly as his precum and your slick mixed, allowing his cock to slide in and out of your welcoming pussy with ease.

“God, so fucking perfect for me,” he grumbled to himself. “Taking my cock so good and you don’t even know it.”

You twitched at the words, then yelped as the tip of his cock grazed your cervix. Pure ecstasy threaded itself through your dreams and filled your sleeping brain as Dazai used you. Your body seemed to love getting stuffed by your boyfriend just as much as your mind normally did.

Dazai knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, could already feel the heat in his gut and the twitch in his balls grow as he came closer to what he had been needing for so long. He couldn’t stop himself from gripping your hips and pulling your ass towards his cock to meet his thrusts, erratically chasing his orgasm.

It wasn’t long before Dazai hit his climax, moaning as his balls tightened and shot hot cum inside you, your pussy happily drinking up every last drop. He gently lowered your leg he was still holding up before pulling his softening cock out of you, watching in awe as both his and your cum dripped out of your stretched hole.

He felt a bit guilty as his head fell back against the pillow and briefly wondered about how he was going to explain why you were leaking cum when you did wake up, but right then, Dazai didn’t care – you gave him what he so desperately needed. He’d just be sure to thank you in the morning.

[laiiaaa]

in need of more dad!carmy cause oml

him walkin in on the girls doing something they're not supposed to be doin :0 but ofc he can't manage to stay upset at them for long

He’s got the biggest soft spot in the world for his girls and he really can’t help it, especially when they’re young. They’re always up to something, usually because Rory’s a little shit (she takes after you) and Jack’s just trying to copy after her big sister.

You’re fast asleep one night when he’s wide awake. Just nerves, kinks in the road with The Bear, thoughts of Mikey’s birthday approaching, anxiety bubbling up that he doesn’t want to worry you with. So he heads downstairs to sit outside and clear his head with some fresh air—

Only to find Rory and Jack in the living room, on the floor, your sneaky bag of candy—the one reserved for you, that you pick at once the girls are off to bed and you’re cozied up on the couch with Carmen, chatting about your days between sweets—dispersed on the floor.

They don’t even notice his presence till he speaks up:

“What’s goin’ on here?”

They both look up, entirely spooked at their dad standing feet away.

“You two should be in bed.”

“But Dad,” Rory whines, “We don’t even have school tomorrow.” She puts on that pout she knows will have him cooing at her, and Jack follows right behind. “We were just looking, I promise.”

“Just lookin’, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“You know that’s your mother’s, right? That’s her candy you’re stealin’?”

Jack frowns, puts her big brown doe eyes to work. “Mommy lets us have some all the time.”

“Don’t lie t’me, Jacqueline.” One hand of his rests at his hip, the other swiping at his mouth as he fidgets. “You lyin’ t’me?”

He looks back and forth between his girls—his babies, really, because even though they’ve grown out of diapers and go to school on the weekdays, he still can’t fathom them as anything but his baby girls. So small, and so adorable, with tiny pouts and tiny hands and tiny giggles. They’re just so sweet.

“Not lyin’, Daddy.”

“She’s not,” Rory agrees. “Promise.”

He must be going soft. If Richie knew, he’d never hear the end of it, what with his heart going to mush at his girls, how he sees you in them both, how just a simple and meek little promise has his irritation going smooth and his lungs letting out a sigh before he cleans them up and carries them to bed—after they get one more piece of candy, of course, because who is he to deny them a little joy?

Carmen tells you the short of it by morning, limbs tangled together.

“You’re too easy on ‘em,” you giggle, “Such a softie. And they know it.”

“I’m not, y’know, soft, I’m just—”

“Bear, you let them get away with everything—”

“No I don’t—”

“If you say so,” you tease, letting the matter settle with your lips pressed sweetly against his, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you just a little closer. “It’s gonna come back ‘n bite you, though.”

“I’ll be alright, baby.” Another gentle trail of kisses, along your jaw, down to your neck, fading away at your collarbone. He’d kiss you all day if you’d let him.

“Hm.” Your nails scratch gently along his back, and you press your fingertips into the tender muscles of his back as he buries himself into your neck. “Are you making waffles today?”

A muffled groan escapes him, and he peeks up at you. “Thought you said you were doin’ breakfast today?”

You pout, and it looks awfully familiar to him. “Next weekend?”

“Next weekend, huh?”

“Promise.”

And oh, how the irony dawns on him, and oh, how little he cares. But why would he? How could he say no to you, or the girls you’ve brought into his life, when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him—when you love him like you do?

With a brief stretch and a deepened kiss with your hands in his hair, he lifts himself out of bed as you trail close behind, your touch a comfort unlike anything else. And when you shimmy into your seat at the counter, laughing with him over your cup of coffee, watching sweetly as he prepares breakfast before the girls scurry into the kitchen, he knows:

He wouldn’t change a thing.

[songmingisthighs]

Heaven's Haven

group : ateez

pairing : jongho × reader

genre : smut, romance

wc : 3.6 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (ykw if you're financially ready for a kid and is no longer obsessed with supposed time travelling pirates, go for it), pwp ?, softer sex with a lot of description bc... it's jongho, have you looked at him? lmk what i missed

a/n : to those of you who encouraged me to give into my impulses, you'll be hearing from my lawyer. it's san. san is my lawyer. btw happy haribo day !!

a/a/n : at this point let's just agree that smt overdoes shit

buy me coffee ?

Every night you were reminded of how hardworking your boyfriend is. Most days you're proud of him while some days you were just worried. While he's not a workaholic with a hyperactive artistic brain like his captain, Kim Hongjoong, Jongho works when he's not even working. His whole life revolves around being a singer and a performer; his diet, his aversion to certain foods, and his workout regime. Frankly, the only thing that could stop him was when he went through surgery for his legs. While fans were disappointed when he couldn't join the tour, it was the best month of your life. You love taking care of him because he has been taking such good care of you. Which was why you designated his room as a no-outside-life zone. You made it your duty to rid Jongho of his responsibilities when he's in his room. Also his pants.

So coming into his room to find him sitting on his bed still clad in a suit after an interview he did, texting away on his phone, was not really surprising. You simply closed the door, put your bag down near it, and walked over to your boyfriend who was staring at his phone screen with his bottom lip jutted out adorably. "Jjongie, baby," you called out, barely getting a reaction out of him save for a low hum. You slot yourself between his legs while pushing his half-gelled back hair out of his face, can't stop smiling at your adorably sexy boyfriend, "You need to get out of these clothes, you've been in it the whole day and we need to get your cute butt into bed," you cooed, using the voice you would usually use on little children. "No need baby, I had dinner already," he replied, head tilting at his phone screen, way too preoccupied with whatever it is he was doing.

You wanted to get him to relax but knowing your boyfriend, you first need to detach him from whatever it is taking his attention. So you began your attempts. Rather pathetically because even with eyes glued to his phone, Jongho managed to evade your hands catching the device and even foiling your fake easily. Huffing and puffing, you were determined but so was Jongho. Had he ever given you any reason to suspect infidelity, you would've been very mad for a whole different reason.

After a solid 5 minutes of failed attempts, you detached yourself from your boyfriend with a glare, cursing him and his entire coming bloodline (that you may or may not consider being involved in) for being... Well, him. At this point, he must've known what you were doing right? "Jongho," you called out but were met with silence, "Choi Jongho," you tried again but no luck.

In a desperate attempt, you decided to take some drastic measures that might or might not work, depending on Jongho's mood. You shimmied out of your pants quietly, leaving your panties on purposefully in case your plan failed yet again. You were attempting to give Jongho a pouncing as the element of surprise might give you an upper hand. Boy, you never realized how much planning goes into this part of the relationship. And by 'this', you absolutely mean taking care of a grown adult.

Without further ado, you walked back over to your boyfriend who seemed like he had no plans of letting his phone go and jumped right into action. Jongho yelped slightly when he felt his left shoulder pushed down out of nowhere and when he looked up, he realized that you had used your leg to maneuver him into lying down on his back and plopping down on his chest. The look in his eyes was rather priceless and it took everything in you to not celebrate your half success just yet. Instead, you used your knees to hold his large shoulders in place as your shins pressed his wrists down, preventing him from moving. Or so you convinced yourself. You've seen him carry his members around like a sack of flour, you were sure that he could at least flip you over. Not that you would mind.

In his position, Jongho tried to break free (barely) but you only pressed him further to the point that he let his phone go. "Okay, hi?" he grinned cheekily, looking innocent as if your cunt wasn't a flimsy fabric away from being completely exposed whilst being at eye level with Jongho. "Hi?" pouting, you slapped him on his chest, "You have been ignoring me since I stepped into this room, Choi Jongho and I don't like it!" you complained. "Is that why you're rewarding me?" Jongho asked with an eyebrow raised in question. Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure at what he meant and just as you were about to ask him, you felt his body jolt up slightly which caused your ass to slide forward and your clothed cunt to make contact with Jongho's mouth, effectively causing you to freeze in shock. Your reaction then wasn't as bad as the next though because when you felt the vibration from Jongho humming into your cunt, you gasped and your thighs tensed. "Look at my baby trying to take care of me by giving me something so sweet," he said, the movement from his lips was so palpable on your nether ones that it made your breath catch in your throat, intensely heightening Jongho's effect on you. Just as you had taken Jongho's shock to your benefit, Jongho too took your hazed state to slip his hands from your hold. When you realized what he did, you whined in protest, not wanting him to push you off just yet. But much to your surprise, you found his left hand cupping your ass as the other found purchase on your inner thigh, his thumb gently caressing the bit of skin under the shirt you were wearing, just above your underwear line. The touch left you tingling, your spine shot up as if electricity shot through you straight from where Jongho's tongue was tasting you over your underwear.

"J-Jongho," you whimpered, wanting to say something that you yourself can't figure out, you weren't even sure you should be saying anything but you were sure that some form of response should be given. Jongho had managed to melt your brain with his kitten licks to your covered clit. He somehow managed to find it easily despite not being able to get a visual. Seems like he just knew you that well. Just to be a complete ass about it, Jongho hummed into your pussy again for good measure, causing you to let out a shuddered sigh and making your head drop back. Whatever it was you thought you needed to do when Jongho began to get his taste of you went out the window, you convinced yourself that teasing the fuck out of you count as a non-working activity because it truly was and he was doing such a good job. Your mind shattered when you felt his thumb move your panties to the side and you felt his talented tongue slither between your lower lips. "Fuck!" the sound you make felt perfect to Jongho, enough to drive him to take your pulsing clit between his teeth and lightly nibble on it. Pain isn't something that you always liked during sex with your previous partners. You had had some experiences but none of them resulted in you feeling that good. Sure, there was some pleasure, but not enough to make the pain worth it. But for some reason, with Jongho, the pain he gave during sex only heightened as pleasure. You love the edge it gave you, that bite he gives be it literally or figuratively.

Your boyfriend is someone who is always in control and when he does it, he does it so seamlessly that it wasn't even obvious that he had control. How you love the showcase of subtle prowess like how he was gripping your hips so tightly, making sure that you wouldn't be able to chase your high by riding his face, making sure that you were completely dependent on him, that you were in his mercy. "Jongho, more!" you moaned, groaning when Jongho let his blunt nails dig into the skin of your thigh possessively. You looked down to see Jongho raising an eyebrow from between your legs, "Look at you forgetting your manners after being given a little taste of pleasure," a rush of warmth rushed to your cheeks when you heard the teasing edge in Jongho's voice. Jongho wasn't one to be into degradation, he had drawn a certain line on the matter because, in his own words, he cared about you too much to put you down. So your shyness was based on the knowledge that he found you endearing, precious even when you were so affected by him. Unintentionally, your cunt clenched as his tongue grazed upon your opening.

In a flash, you were suddenly under Jongho. His face was still level with your cunt but he was now hovering above, looking at your dumbfounded expression with a satisfied look on his face. Jongho didn't try to hide his amused chuckle when he saw you pouting but he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from actually laughing as you reached to grab the lapels of his suit with both of your hands after managing to take off your own shirt and saliva-slicked panties.

"You need to lose at least one article of clothing. It's not fair," you muttered at him, trying to tug his clothes off despite the struggle due to your position. In his mind, Jongho had considered ignoring your request, wanting to tease you more or at least make you wait. But how can he do that when he knew you had his best interest in mind? Surely, it's also because you want to see his beefed build but he liked to believe that it was just your way of telling him that it's time for him to shed his responsibilities and just rest. So with a nod, Jongho pushed himself up slightly so he could take his suit jacket off and tossed it to the side haphazardly. "Better?" he asked but you immediately shook your head, "I swear, you better be as naked as the day you were born just as God intended or so help me I will find the strength to rip your shirt off of you," you huffed. It was obvious that you were getting impatient and despite your threat and the absolute seriousness in your voice, Jongho knew that you'd just ended up making him undress himself. You were so adorable in Jongho's eyes, he didn't know how you could be so whiny and bossy at the same time. It made his cock twitch in his pants.

Slowly, Jongho crawled up your body to pepper tiny butterfly kisses all over your face, distracting you from his undressing. "I'm sorry for not giving you attention right away, baby. I was too wrapped up in my work, wasn't I?" he softly asked against the skin of your cheek, making you whimper and try to bury your face in his shoulder. "That's okay, Jongho. I just worry about you," when Jongho pulled away slightly, you couldn't help but push the fallen hair from his forehead and cupped his face, "I love you so much," you smiled.

As soon as your profession of love slipped your lips, you felt something hard and heavy enter you. Jongho was halfway inside you when you gasped, hands dropping to claw at his arms that were holding himself up on your sides. Inch by inch Jongho nestled himself inside you as he watched how your face changed the more he pushed. At this point, Jongho's breathing had changed; he inhaled more sharply and exhaled longer, eyes clouded with lust as he paid you all the attention he could muster. He loved watching you unravel under him, it was his favourite thing to watch and he loved savouring each moment, taking in the way your eyes clamped shut and eyebrows furrowed that would usually be accompanied by whimpers that escaped your lips. It wasn't like you both jumped on each other's bones every night as you both considered sex to be a very intimate activity. But by no means do you not do it often nor do you schedule or even make an appointment for sex. What kind of a lunatic would have a calendar for coitus? No, Jongho loved the organic way you and he reacted to each other. When it's time, it's time and the spontaneity tends to egg his exhilaration.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)," he grinned cheekily once you seemed more relaxed, adapted to having him once again wholly inside you, "But you can't expect me to not do anything after you told me you love me." Looking over briefly, you noticed that Jongho managed to unbutton his shirt completely, showing you his beautiful chest and firm abdomen muscle paired with unbuttoned and unzipped pants shoved just a little bit past his cock so the appendage would be completely out. You simply pouted and clicked your tongue at him, "Not undressed and no warning, what kind of boyfriend are you, Choi Jongho?" Chuckling at your protest, Jongho ducked down again to brush his lips against yours, "The best kind, of course," once his lips melded with yours, your annoyance immediately melted, opting to wrap your arms around his neck loosely instead. "And I love you too," he added against your lips.

Jongho's hips begin rocking seconds later, setting a slow pace for him and you to enjoy. The arms that anchored his weight on the sides of your head soon moved; one was carefully cradling the back of your neck as the other slipped around your waist. The more Jongho rocked his hips, the closer you both became until eventually you were chest to chest. In the position you both were in, there was not much room for movement but God, when you slipped your hands under his shirt, the feeling of Jongho's warm skin directly on yours was wonderful. Not to sound like an absolute pervert, but you've always found Jongho to have the softest back. While people expected you to feel his muscles first (which are bulging, thick, and aesthetically pleasing), you shattered all expectations behind closed doors. Even Jongho was surprised when you mentioned the softness of the planes of his entire back. It became a habit for you to let your palm drag along the expanse, making Jongho shudder and allowing his muscles to tighten in desire. To add to that, when you buried your face in his shoulder, you could smell his natural musk. It's not sweat per se, it's just... Jongho. Maybe it was his Diptyque Do Son that clung to the fabric of his clothes mixed with pheromones wafting in the air that gave off a sweet floral scent that had an edge of sharpness to it, but he somehow smelled like home to you. If you could, you'd gladly drown in the scent and evaporate along with it when the time comes, refusing to part. To make things worse for you, the sounds Jongho made were just heavenly. While your past partners had ruined sex by saying stupid things like 'I will wreck you' and 'I'll make sure you're ruined for other men' and not delivering, Jongho was on the quieter side. He almost never moaned out loud, only letting out grunts and huffs and occasionally whimpers when he was needy. Maybe it was because he's a vocalist, a damn great one at that, but even the softest sounds he made gave off vibrations that travelled to you, sending your pupils shaking and stomach tightening. Especially like this, when you both were chest-to-chest, faces on each other's shoulders, the effect of the sounds Jongho made shot right through your cunt, making you clench over and over when the vibrations hit just right. You pity his fans who didn't get to feel what you felt.

Sex with Jongho is not just sex, it's not even just lovemaking where everything is romantic and meaningful. It's a whole experience that left you dizzy and craving for more yet you know that if you had too much of it, it would just drive you absolutely mad. While it isn't much of a conversation topic, you had spoken about your sex life with your friends and most (if not all) stated that it sounded rather vanilla and uneventful. But they don't know what kind of intensity sex with Jongho bring. It's not balls slapping, sweaty bodies sliding off of each other, and drool splattering everywhere as he made you squirt your release over and over again like the damn Bellagio Fountain. The experience was beyond words but you definitely felt vulnerably close to Jongho and you could feel him being so close to you too. Everything was laid bare for either to take. Figuratively and literally. Though the occasional crazy monkey sex filled with experiments and teasings still happened, on the norm, this was your heaven.

You wondered how Jongho hadn't lost his pace. Sure, his thrusts became more powerful as his drive was reignited, but the pace was steady yet not monotone. To add to your own pleasure, you lifted your legs slightly, casing Jongho's hips between your knees. The position allowed your hips to be more open to Jongho, letting your clit make direct contact with his pubic bone so each thrust he delivered came with your clit being rubbed just right. "Fuck!" you exclaimed, head burying deeper into Jongho's shoulder as your hands pressed down his back; from his large shoulders to the dip in the middle, and finally arriving on his exposed ass. You joked that he has an adorable tushy on a daily basis at random times, causing him to cover your mouth whilst blushing because he was embarrassed at how cavalier you were with his gluteal area. But when you showed appreciation to his ass during sex, it proved to make him confident, proud of himself and how hard he worked to have an ass deserving of appreciation by his lover. A confident Jongho is a sexy Jongho and a sexy Jongho always rocked your world in his own way.

Jongho absolutely loved this position as he felt so close to you. While it was a shame that he couldn't see you, the fact that he was able to feel all of you made up for it. From the way your knees tried to close in on his large frame and the way your hips rocked along with his, he knew you were close. His favourite feeling however was the feeling of your stomach muscle tightening under him because it made your back arch and your body to be pressed even closer to him (not that it was possible). Jongho could feel the coil building in your core, ready to be released with just the right persuasion.

"You can cum, I'll help you cum," he grunted into your ear as he allowed the hand that was cupping the back of your neck to somehow slip between your bodies. Your eyes shot open when Jongho simultaneously pulled your hips to meet his completely while his hand pressed to your lower stomach. Immediately, the tension intensified due to the added pressure, forcing a jolt out of your body. All over your body, your muscles tensed which caused you to cling onto Jongho desperately. "Jongho!" you whined accidentally, immediately biting down on Jongho's shoulder to muffle your sound once your coil finally snapped and you came hard. Jongho's eyes shut close at the pleasure of your cunt sucking him in with its grip as if preventing him to get away even just momentarily. Jongho kept thrusting to help you ride your high as he chased his own, movements a lot more fluid thanks to your release. Thanks to your spasming body that added tactile pleasure from skin-on-skin stimulation, Jongho was able to release inside you. Your eyes fluttered open slowly and your pupils dilated when you saw the muscles of Jongho's entire backside tense as he came and even more so, his ass. The sight got you grinding back on Jongho as if returning the favour of him helping you ride your high.

Once both of your bodies relaxed, Jongho sagged and let his weight drop on you, positioning himself so that he wouldn't crush you with his weight but still enough to cover you with his warmth. You winced and whined when Jongho pulled his cock out of you, your hips chasing after him made Jongho grin. With his newfound freedom, Jongho pushed his pants completely off and kicked them to the floor and the garment was soon joined by his now wrinkled shirt. Just as quickly as Jongho took his clothes off, he returned to his spot whilst pulling his blanket, covering you to your chest before pulling you into his arms.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," he said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You bit back a smile that may threaten to split your face to reciprocate, kissing him right on his neck mole. Despite it being a gentle kiss, Jongho still shuddered and you adored him for that. "And I don't know how I got so lucky with you. I love you, Jongho, so much," you said, resting your cheek firmly on his chest which allowed you to feel how hard Jongho's heart was beating.

"I love you too, my love. More than you know," he said before letting his eyes close to rest for the night.

Although you were laid in his arms, Jongho felt as if he was the one being embraced, enveloped in love and affection. It was the kind of feeling that encompassed him so comfortably that it lulled him to sleep. In the safety of his haven.

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@chloepurpy

[loki-cees-all]

Fiji {James Conrad x Female Reader Drabble}

Cee's James Conrad Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : James Conrad x Female Reader

Summary : A much-needed vacation for you and Conrad leads to nothing but lots of skin, sunshine, and the bluest blue you’ve ever seen.

W/c : 1.5k words

Content / Warnings : Established relationship, skinny-dipping, hurt/comfort (focus on the comfort for a change), some lingering angst, and just a touch of smut.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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Daylight had only broken two hours prior, but you were already in the ocean. 

The bright cerulean sky overhead blended seamlessly with the crystal blue water below. At your shoulders, gentle and warm waves lapped at your skin, and in the distance, the calls of the local parrot finches provided the perfect soundscape for the island. Deep below the water’s surface, docile sand soothed the aching muscles of your feet, and if you submerged yourself completely in the water, you’d be able to see for almost a mile along the ocean floor. 

That is, if you were interested in thinking about anything besides the gorgeous man wrapped around you. 

Conrad had grumbled when you’d woken him up so early, just barely four hours after setting up camp and passing out on the vacant beach together. The face he’d made while trying desperately, and failing, to pull you back into the sleeping bag was infuriatingly adorable. But once his eyes had opened enough to see you happily stripping for a naked morning swim, his attitude had changed almost instantly. 

“Is this what you had in mind when you demanded a midnight boat ride to Tivoa Island?” Conrad had grinned as he peeled off his t-shirt and began working on his jeans. His hungry eyes were glued to your frame as you pulled your tank top overhead and then shimmied your shorts down your hips; his fingers, not quite as awake as his eyes were at that point, had fumbled with the buttons, struggling to free himself fast enough and catch up with you. 

You had laughed in response, walking backwards towards the water, taunting him with your nude form and an innocent smile on your lips. “I didn’t demand anything, darling. I politely requested that you find someone to give us a lift, that’s all.” 

The water was up to your knees by the time Conrad managed to catch up with you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and lifting you up into a backwards bearhug. And you had squealed with delight as he buried his nose in your neck and began to move you both deeper into the healing waters.

“If I had known that this little excursion was going to include skinny-dipping, I would have found us a ride a lot sooner than midnight, my dear…” he had murmured against your skin, breathing in your scent and running his hands along your hips once you lowered you back to your feet. 

Conrad’s touch was heavenly - his skin was so soft and soothingly warm, his every muscle so steady and strong against your back. At that moment, you were happier than you’d ever been. 

You’d already spent ten whole days and nine entire nights with him - every minute was kept all to yourselves, and there were absolutely no interruptions. But still, neither of you could keep your eyes and hands off each other the entire time. This was by far the longest you’d spent together since that very first meeting back in Saigon, and the entire trip had been nothing short of perfection - exploring new places and cultures along the islands of Fiji by day, and making considerable amounts of love by night. Everything the soul needed to set itself right again. 

Conrad hadn’t been sold on the idea of a vacation when you first broached the subject; he was a working man by birth, a desperate martyr looking for some way to be of use, and never one to turn down a job that needed doing. Whether any particular job actually needed doing was always up for debate, in your opinion, and after the tragedy on Skull Island, you were prepared to become relentless in your insistence that he needed to rest. 

But much to your surprise, he had immediately given in. He acquiesced, without any further struggle or argument, and took you up in your offer to travel for pleasure instead of pain. Because something horrible on that island had finally broken him, and it killed you to see it. 

Initially, he hadn’t wanted to discuss it at all…much in the same way he never wanted to talk about the war. You didn’t want to pry or to push in respect for his privacy, but you knew whatever still haunted him was deep and painful haunting. Even months later, he still had nightmares, and he’d wake up with a start, bolting upright and shouting orders at the long lost ghosts of Skull Island. 

And all you could do was hold Conrad tight, hoping that somewhere along the way, between the sun and the moon and the water, he’d finally be able to unburden himself. 

It was the third night in Lautoka, while basking in the afterglow of the second round of lovemaking that evening, when he finally opened up about the horrors of that place. Conrad wasn’t usually one for being upfront about his feelings, especially the negative ones, but he actually admitted to being absolutely terrified, for what was probably only the fourth or fifth time in his entire life. 

But he wasn’t necessarily scared of the monsters, or of the people - no, he had been frightened of never seeing you again. Of never getting to hold you, or make love to you again - and that fear was something he just couldn’t continue living with. With you, there was just too much for him to lose. And if there was one thing trackers hated the most, it was being unable to regain something precious. 

So now here you both were, standing back to chest in the Pacific Ocean, bathing in the sunlight and letting the waves purge away the aches and pains buried deep within both of your souls. Conrad was feeling so much better; he was smiling and laughing again, he was appreciating the little things, he was looking forward to the future. He was alive, and thus, so were you. 

Because you were loved here, cradled in Conrad’s arms and floating amongst the waves of his heart. And he was safe here, protected by you and the sunshine and the gentle breeze, from every dark shadow and every monster that still lingered in his painful memories. The gentle breeze blew away the ashes of the past, and the graceful waves paved the way for a quiet, simple life. 

Nothing could hurt either of you here, and absolutely everything could heal you. 

Conrad squeezed your hips again as he pressed lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder, and you were suddenly reminded of the time constraints against you both. The boat would be heading back to Lautoka at exactly noon, and the docks were just under a half hour’s walk from the beach. As much as you’d love to spend another week on this remote and exquisite beach, the rest of your belongings and food were still tucked away in your room at the Seabreeze Hotel…

“We should probably get a move on, if we don’t want to miss the boat back…” you murmured reluctantly, even as your heart raced while his lips moved up to your ear. Conrad let out an enticing and teasing hum as he nibbled on your earlobe, and a shiver of excitement ran down your spine as he pressed himself harder against your backside. 

“Yes, and we should probably have a snack before we go…” Conrad’s fingertips dipped between your thighs, grazing you softly with the most delicate of touches and leaving your brain short-circuiting in bewilderment. 

“I think there’s, uh…crackers…in my bag…” you breathed heavily, feeling lost in his touch again. Conrad’s fingers matched the gentle ocean waves as they pushed and withdrew, gathering up any leftover anguish and leaving nothing except euphoria in their wake. 

He continued that motion for a few more moments, winding you up for another beautiful release. Your head fell back against his shoulder and your lips parted with heavy breaths as your hips rolled with his fingers. Just as you were about to come, your fingernails dug into his forearms and you moaned his name in just the way he liked. 

But shockingly, right when you were on the edge of an incredible orgasm, Conrad completely withdrew his fingers and scooped you up bridal style instead. You gasped in surprise and your brow furrowed with irritation at the sudden reversal he'd pulled on you. But as you hooked an arm around his shoulder and looked up into his glittering blue eyes, at those irises shining brighter than the ocean and the sun combined, your heart outright stopped in your chest, like you were seeing him for the very first time again.

Conrad’s skin had grown so very tan from the sun, and so very soft from all the salt in the atmosphere. As his skin had grown tanner, new and more impressive freckles had popped up along his high cheekbones and broad shoulders. His beautiful eyes sparkled in the bright light reflecting off the water - the bluest blue you’d ever seen - and you could have sworn he’d acquired several new laugh-lines since this much-needed vacation had begun. 

He was healing. He was whole again, and the ocean had done that for you both. The ocean forces you to let go of everything holding you down, so you could focus on clinging to what was actually important. Nothing else on this planet could ever compare to the ocean’s power. 

Conrad just laughed as he carried you back to shore. “Oh, let me assure you, darling…It’s not food I’m hungry for.” 

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Click here to be added to my James Conrad fic tag list! 💙

[intimidating-fettuccine]

I absolutely live for lighthearted fluff, so I just gotta ask- do you think there are any funny/cute habits/things the creeps have? (obvi u don’t have to do all of them, maybe just some that jump out at you) Like grabbing onto people when they’re scared, having a funny/infectious giggle (or one of those ridiculous laughs that makes other people laugh), having a high pitched girly scream, etc?

I feel like the last one def applies to Jeff because it’s like he’s got the hottest, most charming voice you’ll ever hear and then as soon as he screams he breaks the goddamn sound barrier😭😭

One lighthearted thing for every creep because I want soft hours:

Jeff: He WOULD have a high-pitched scream, but as for my own little habit headcanon for him, I think he runs in place when bored and standing. If he's waiting in line, he just starts quickly jogging in place to keep himself occupied, and it's very funny to just see him waiting in line to check out with his groceries and he's just standing there running in place with an intense look on his face.

BEN: Hacks into everyone's phones to see what items they're liking/saving to buy for themselves and he gets them those items for Christmas and birthdays.

EJ: Narrows his eyes, pins his ears back, and swishes his tail back and forth angrily whenever he's pouting or mildly annoyed. He looks exactly like an annoyed cat and it's the cutest thing. He even crosses his arms when he does it to look intimidating and it does the opposite.

LJ: Jack rarely does his actual laugh due to his depression/general facade, BUT, when you get him to fully let loose and laugh he has the most infectious, amazing laugh you'll ever hear. Eyes closed, grabbing his stomach, tears rolling down his face, and so happy and adorable.

Toby: Does a little dance every time he eats ice cream. He'll shimmy his body back and forth when he takes his first bite, close his eyes, and smile real big, humming to himself in happiness.

Tim: He's gotten into the habit of drumming on the counter with his fingers when he's cooking and waiting for things to cook. He'll thump his index fingers on the counter and bop his head along with whatever beat he's following.

Brian: Gives people bunny ears in every picture. If he's taking a photo with someone (unless Slender tells him not to for family photos) Brian will put his two fingers behind someone's head in every picture, no matter who he's taking a photo with.

Slender: Thinks aloud to himself. Normally it's not a problem because he just speaks to people through their minds, so when he's alone nobody notices. However, sometimes you'll walk past him and he's just standing there or sitting there having a full conversation or tangent to himself. It's very entertaining, and he doesn't realize he's doing it.

Liu: Whenever he gets really stressed the first thing he does is find Jeff and give him a big hug. Liu might be the older brother, but when they were little Liu would always cling to Jeff when he got stressed or anxious, and that has carried into adulthood.

Jane: Dances whenever she hears music. It's purely subconscious, but if music is playing around her, she'll do a little dance where she bounces back and forth on her feet and sways her hips, and sometimes she doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Natalie: Taps people she likes randomly. She does it to show affection, but if she's just ever hanging out with someone she likes she'll subconsciously reach out and softly, quickly tap them a bunch of times to say "I love you and I'm glad you're here."

Helen: Has the cutest sneezes. He tries SO HARD not to sneeze around people because he has really cute high-pitched sneezes, like the really adorable and cute kind. He hates it so fucking much but he's always been that way so he just tries to hide it.

Smiley: Sighs in a really funny manner. It comes out very dramatic and over the top, but his natural sigh is very high-pitched and pouty sounding, so people often teach him for his dramatics, but that's just how he sighs.

Sally: Has gotten into the habit of collecting metal pop bottle caps, so the creeps will always give her theirs for her collection. She has a special box that she keeps them in, and she always gets excited when she gets a new cap.

Offender: Cannot dab or floss correctly. He often tries to tease the younger human creeps by trying to dab or floss but no matter how many times they try to teach him how to do it, he just can't do it correctly. They always call him Dad or Grandpa when he does that to make fun of him for being old and unable to do it right.

Trender: Since tailoring is his full-time job, he has a lot of pins he often has to use, and he's gotten into the habit of collecting a bunch of different types of pin cushions. His current favorite is one that looks like a hedgehog.

Splendor: Paints new Christmas ornaments every year with him and his siblings on them to hang on his tree each year, and he makes an extra for every sibling too.

Jason: To try and improve on his trauma involving children and continue his tailoring work, he sometimes makes and donates clothing to various orphanages in the Underworld and delivers it to them himself.

Puppeteer: Jumps rope with his strings. When he's bored and by himself if he has some energy he wants to burn off he'll use his strings to jump rope with. Nobody has caught him doing this and he thinks it's a bit embarrassing, so he's never told anyone.

Zalgo: Stretches when he's getting tired. He often has to work through exhaustion a lot, so when he gets sleepy he'll do some stretches to get his blood flowing and let his muscles get stretched out so he's not tense and sitting in the same position all day.

Candy: Hums to himself a lot. Whenever he's bored or spaced out he'll hum or sing to himself to occupy his mind. If he's around his partner or one of his friends, he might even pull them in for a little dance while he hums and sings, all with a big peaceful smile on his face.

Hobo: When he gets started he poofs his wings up really big like a bird and he jumps a bit into the air, eyes wide and arms clutched to himself. It's very adorable, but make sure he's not near any valuable items or he might accidentally whack them with his wings.

Nina: Has a habit of checking in on Zalgo. She's the only official creep I've got working under him, and she worries over how much he overworks himself. Whenever she has a second of free time she's always poking into his office to make sure he's not overworking himself, and she often brings him snacks or drinks to make sure he's eating and drinking stuff since he often works around the clock.

Kate: Falls asleep in the weirdest places. She's got some sleeping problems, and she will fall asleep anywhere. The dining table, curled up in an odd position in a chair, sprawled across the couch, on the floor. She'll just plop down somewhere and she's out within minutes.

[temptress-writes]

🦊 Lucky Fox

A/N: Groovy seventies Harry. Part two of Disco Snow

C.W: DRUG USE (weed). Sexual content: spit kink, breeding kink, dum/dom play (subrry), spanking, squirting, anal play, bondage, choking.

Word count—10.2k.

Enjoy x

***

“I’m fumin’, little fox.”

The cord of your telephone is tangled in a perfect spiral around your index finger, your back pressed against the wall beside where the cradle hangs. You try to stifle the giggle that ensues his competitive aggression on the other end of the phone.

“It’s just a game, Harry.”

“Just a game? Right and Waffelos is just cereal, not a heavenly maple orgasm in the mouth.”

You laugh harder at his dramatic claim. It’s something you love about him. He puts his full heart into everything. Whether it’s a particularly tight parallel parking spot, a really bad joke, or a heavy debate on which cereal is the best. And mostly? You.

Well. You, and currently, Space Invaders.

“I’m not kidding around. I dialed you for reinforcements. Get your perky little ass down here.”

And with that, he hangs up. This is a reoccurring thing for the two of you. Harry tries to beat his highest score down at the arcade but swears he needs his little fox at his side for good luck. You're more than happy to oblige, often massaging his tense shoulders, offering sips of a milkshake through a straw before giving him a peck on his raspberry lips.

Ever since that night at the Hall of Mirrors, you and Harry have been inseparable. More discos, even more nights in his sheets. Months and months of dance battles in your kitchen in the early hours of the morning, months of reading poetry laid out in a park, his head tucked into your lap as you recite lines.

He is everything you adore in a person; warm, charismatic, shameless. He’s taught you a lot about being true to yourself. You often find yourself trying to be a people pleaser. To fit into a label of what makes you a person.

But Harry is a different class of human. Unhinged and unapologetic. Soulful and selfless. Of course, the man who wore bubblegum flares when you first met him would be the one you’d give your heart to. Really, his existence is one of a dream-like mirage. But he’s so real, and all yours.

Due to Harry’s more than electric dressing sense, he’s usually hauling you down to the mall in his yellow Dodge Charger. Grabbing items from racks and making you try them all on. Telling you twirl and show it off. He swears you suit everything and is quick to buy whatever you like. His favourite thing to spoil you with is lingerie, buying you dreamy underwear that he can rip apart with his teeth before tasting you.

One of your most recent purchases, courtesy of Harry’s taste, is a pair of gold sequin pants. You shimmy them up your legs, throwing on your white blouse and your white platform shoes. You leave your hair natural, not tying it up like you usually do because you know how much Harry enjoys playing with the loose strands.

Seated at your vanity, you apply a frosty green eyeshadow to your eyelid and use your cake liner to define your eyes with black along your lash line. With some coats of mascara and a wash of lip gloss, you grab your jacket and purse and head down to the arcade.

The sun is setting, melting into the skyline of Miami with warm caramel and fluffy candy-floss clouds that become burnt violet as the sun nears the horizon.

The Score. An arcade and bowling alley that evolves into a buzzing bar every night. Being a new establishment, it's a hot spot that offers everything. Entertainment, dancing, drinking, and the best hotdogs Harry says he’s ever tasted.

You pass the payphone where Harry called you from, skirting around the corner and bump straight into him.

He’s smiling brightly and you take a second to appreciate how fucking good he looks. You’re glad you put in the effort to match his style, always so impressed with his fits. This one might be one of your favourites.

The first thing you notice is the brown fur coat draped over his broad shoulders. It’s luxurious and warm and makes you want to cuddle him even more. Underneath is a yellow graphic t-shirt with his favourite orange stained sunglasses hung on the neck of it. His legs are nestled in a pair of blue flared jeans, his feet donning a pair of gold boots.

He makes a little whiney noise and cups your face in his jeweled fingers, leaving soft and delicate kisses to your lips and the tip of your nose. He pulls back to smile, his dimples and little crinkles by his eyes indented with the force.

“Hi, how high are you? Wait no, how are you h- I’m high as shit.”

You laugh, pressing your face into his neck and feeling his warmth. “Pothead. Did you smoke without me?”

He narrows his eyes at your pouted lips, flicking them with his finger. “Aw, feeling left out?”

“No.” You grumble playfully.

He chuckles, looking around before pulling you down the alley next to The Score. He fumbles around his jacket pocket, producing a half-smoked blunt and his lighter.

“Pucker up, baby.”

You giggle, allowing him to place the blunt between your pursed lips. He lights it, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand. You suck in deeply while Harry keeps watch. The smoke fills your lungs before it leaves your body in a plume. Harry grips your chin, sucking the smoke from your pouted lips.

Your lips meet in a heated kiss, the blunt quickly forgotten as he scoops you closer in his arms. He pressed you against the wall, tangling his hands in your hand and sucking on your tongue.

“Left your hair down for me, pretty girl. Know how much I like to pull it, don’t you?”

You sigh against him, your hands gripping his ass to pull him flush against you. He shamelessly grinds his crotch against you, kissing you deeply. You love his kisses. How much heavy meaning and adoration lies behind them.

He tugs your hair once more before growling and pulling away. He throws you a wink and breathes out a puff of air to calm himself down. He’s often telling you how much he struggles to keep his hands off you and today is no different.

He’ll never pass up an opportunity to have his hands on you, especially in those gold pants of yours.

But he’s also aware that you’re both stood in an alley with a dying blunt when you could be inside, getting settled into some entertainment for the night. He loves spending time with you like this. Having a smoke, maybe a drink or two. Getting silly and teasing each other. He can’t fucking wait.

He grips your wrist as you bring the joint up to your lips. You raise your brow. “What?”

“You take another hit and you’ll be catching some Z’s before I can get you a drink.”

“You're not wrong.”

He knows you so well, and you allow him to take the joint from your fingers and finish it. He flicks the butt to the ground, crunching it under the toe of his golden boot. He grips your hip, tugging on your pants and clicking his tongue.

“Look at us being all cute and shit. Matching, eh? Golden couple.”

Your hands bury themselves into his fur coat. “I love the coat.”

“Yeah? Don’t sweat it- it’s faux. No little foxes were harmed.”

He hooks his arm around your neck, pulling you from the alleyway and towards the arcade. You feel warm and fuzzy from both him and the joint. The night that stretches ahead of you makes you yearn for more of him. You can’t ever get enough of each other. Any second he can be showing you how much he appreciates you, he is.

“Let’s go buzz some extraterrestrials, yo!” He yells and you duck your head as people stare at him.

With two vodka slushies in hand, the two of you head over to the Space Invaders machine and you’re surprised there are no indents in the carpet from where he’s been standing most of today.

Harry’s excited, you can tell. He’s such a competitive person and as of late, his rival has been himself. Falling ever so slightly short to beat his own high score. You look at the leader board and it seems there is someone attempting to take his throne, creeping into 3rd place. You snort at the name he’s given himself.

SPACE INVADERS

HIGH SCORES

1st   DADDY 435945

2nd   DADDY 421890

3rd   TB 337300

“Daddy? Please tell me that’s not you.”

Harry drops his jaw. “I- hang on, say it again. I like it.”

You pull him close, taking a sip of your vodka slushy and he does the same, wriggling his brows to egg you on. You’re both on a different level to the rest of the arcade, high off the joint and each other, buzzing off the vodka slushies.

“What, you wanna be my daddy?”

“Cheeky thing. I am your daddy.”

You bump your hip against his, tutting your tongue. Harry laughs at the flush in your cheeks before taking a long sip of his slushy. He hands it to you for safekeeping, poking his tongue out at you, tinged red from his drink. You poke your tongue out and he gasps at the bright blue stain.

“Blue tongued fox!”

You snort. “Sounds like an endangered species.”

“You’re one of a kind, my girl.” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and then your nose. He’s so soft and constantly being so affectionate with you. He winks. “Right, let’s send these ET fuckers home.”

After removing his coat and placing it on your shoulders, he turns to the gaming machine in front of him. He claps a couple of times and then rubs his hands together, psyching himself up for the task ahead.

He stretches out his neck, cracking his knuckles and you know he means business. He starts up the game, the little theme playing out that he hums along to.

Innocently sipping your slushy and then his, you place them on the bench beside you. You move to stand behind him, pressing your chest flat against his back. You can feel the warmth radiating from beneath his yellow t-shirt, his back expanding on a breath as he feels your tits against him.

He shakes his head to clear the delicious fog of you, starting up the game and letting his hands find the controls as if they’re a second home. As much as he loves to put his focus into his game, you will always be his top priority, the cutest and most welcome little distraction.

Your lips press on the plane of his back, right between his shoulder blades. You hum, your hands wrapping around his waist to press against his tummy. Your fingers slip underneath the material, desperate to feel his skin in any way you can.

He shivers when your nails scratch up and down his soft stomach. The beeps from the game mirror the jolts in his upper body as he aims and shoots, diminishing the rows of aliens on the screen.

You peer over his shoulder, patient and almost in awe of how controlled he is. So calm in the moment but you know he’ll be very vocal when the game ends. His score crawls higher and higher, as do your words of praise and encouragement.

“You got this, daddy.” You tease, hearing him growl deep in his chest.

“Cut it out, little fox. I’m trying to focus. And watch those hands.”

“Oops.” You giggle as if you don’t control the fact that your hands are veering south. Meeting the denim of his jeans, dreaming about going lower. But you decide to behave and tuck your fingers into the belt loops and kiss his shoulder.

“Fuck, almost got it. One more row and I’m toast.”

The pressure is high and you’re holding your breath as the rows of enemies creep lower and lower. But Harry feels like he’s been training for this moment. He’s about to surpass his highest score, taste it on the tip of his tongue, like his slushy. Or you.

You hold your breath as he grits his teeth, fully immersing himself in this game. He can feel the vapours of victory encase him, wrapping around his frame and bubble in his chest. They escape in excited yells as he surpasses his highest score.

“Fuck yes!” He cheers, whipping around to pick you up and spin you in a circle. Your congratulations are a round of elated yells and kisses. He puts you down and fist bumps the air, slapping the side of the gaming machine.

“Daddy reigns high, bitches!”

Others in the arcade shoot him looks at his expressive behavior. You shrug unapologetically, over the moon for your lover and his triumph.

“I’m so happy for you, handsome.” You smile, hugging him and squeezing his biceps. He wrinkles his nose and flexes them, showing off proudly even though he’s the least vain person you know.

He places his orange-stained glasses on you, adjusting so they sit perfectly on the bridge of your nose.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. You’re my lucky fox.”

Swimming in victory, Harry veers you towards the bowling alley. You exchange your heels for a pair of red and blue bowling shoes. Harry sits next to you, tying your laces before he does his own.

You find a secluded alley, away from other bowlers. You store your belongings in the booth, Harry’s fur coat included. Music blasts from the speakers and you hum along, trudging behind Harry as he approaches the rack and chooses a ball.

He picks the pink bowling ball in classic fashion. Bubblegum. He holds it, sending you a cheeky look and you brace yourself for whatever comment is about to come.

He nods to his hold of the three hooks in the pink ball. “Two in the pink, one in the stink, aye?”

You slap his chest, shoving past him to the rack and pulling up your choice of ball. A shimmering blue one.

“Behave, or you’ll have blue balls.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “Nice one, honey made a funny.”

“I do try.”

You stare down the lane at the setup of pins, twisting your lips. You’re competitive but nowhere near as competitive as he is. You can see the strategies forming behind his eyes and you wonder if you can sweet-talk him into taking it easy on you.

He smirks. “Ladies first.”

You bite your lip, aiming up your shot as you swing the ball back in your grasp. You can feel his eyes on you, in admiration, but also watching your technique. Whether that’s to help you better your game or to use it against you, you’re sure you’ll find out soon enough.

Your blue ball careens down the lane, your posture impressive and you stand to watch it take down just three pins. You groan out in frustration, knowing your body is slow and cloudy from the joint and single drink you had. Your second shot is no better, knocking down two additional pins. You jot down your unimpressive score on the sheet with a huff.

Harry chuckles, coming up beside you and pinching your hip. “Lucky fox. Watch me sink ten.”

“You won’t.”

“How about this,” He spreads his hands, preparing his proposal. “for every pin I knock down, you give me a kiss.”

“I hope you gutter it.”

“Oh, bite me.” He glares, kissing his cross pendant hanging around his neck before grabbing his ball to swing his shot.

As the ball shoots from his hand, the muscles and veins flex in his arm, his foot crossed back behind him dramatically.

His jeweled fingers shield his eyes from an imaginary glare as he watches his play. The bowling ball speeds dead center down the lane, blurring pink and knocking down ten pins.

“Strike!” He yells, pleased with himself. He does a little dance, his flared jeans swaying as he jives.

Of fucking course he lands a strike. His competitive streak on a high from passing his high score. You jump out of the way as he reaches for you. A haze of yellow and blue denim, a lazy smile, and mischievous emerald eyes that don’t leave yours.

“You cheated.” You deadpan, wanting to wind him up more than anything.

He laughs before his expression is dropped, stoic with his hands on his hips. “As fucking if. Stop being a sore loser and pay up. Come on, ten smooches. And don’t be stingy, I’ll be counting 'em.”

You sigh, feigning a look of sore defeat. “Fine. Where do you want them?”

“Losers choice.” He grins, happy to receive your kisses anywhere you’ll give them.

You can’t help but smile, your heart careening and flipping in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a peck on the cheek, then the other, and then the nose, the corner of his mouth. When your lips meet, neither of you are counting anymore. Harry’s not even sure if he was counting in the first place.

It’s hard to act nonchalant when you’re kissing him. Or when you’re with him in general. He’s everything warm and gooey and glowing about life. All of your favourite things are wrapped into one dimpled, tattooed human. Curly, bubblegum.

It’s even harder to part. Even being in a public place, Harry sees no shame in showing his girl as much love and affection as he sees fit.

His thumb brushes your lower lip, his voice a low whisper. “You’re my lucky little fox, but I’m by far the luckiest fucker alive to call you mine.”

You kiss him again, so head over heels, submerged in him, so far gone, and happy to be.

Your next approach to the lane is one of determination. You take a deep breath, trying to form a connection with your bowling ball while Harry whistles loudly behind you.

“You got this, baby! Your ass looks mint!”

You turn to look at him, your head tilted. “Stop trying to throw me off!”

Harry waves you off. “Turn back around, let me see the peach.”

You roll your eyes and try to push it to the back of your mind, eyeing the ten pins at the end and glaring. You want to impress Harry but you also want to impress yourself. The fog in your mind parts straight down the middle, allowing the perfect alignment of the alley.

You swing your arm back as you take a few steps forward before launching the ball down towards the pins. You hear Harry cheer you on as it fires dead center towards the pin. You shout at it, willing it to stay on course.

The ball veers ever so slightly to the right, clipping half of the pins and knocking down an extra two. Seven down, the three remaining glaring at you. Harry scoops you up with an excited yell, spinning you in a circle.

You kiss him, unable to help yourself. You retrieve your ball and face the pins, Harry crowding behind you with his hands on your waist. His lips brush your ear, soft and enticing an eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

“Three left, little fox. Want the pro to help you sink 'em?”

You smile, turning your neck so you can nudge your nose against his. “Please.”

With his hold on your waist, he ushers you to the left a little, lining you up for the shot. “Aim slightly to the left, okay? Give it full power.”

You nod, letting his arm guide yours in a trialing movement. “Like this?”

“Just like that, atta girl.”

He takes a small step back, sensing your immense focus on his teachings. You let the ball roll from your fingers, surging towards the remaining pins. You’re hopeful as it nears them, staying right on course just as Harry had predicted. His arms are wrapped around you as you both watch the ball knock down the three pins.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” He yells, squeezing you tight while you cheer at your win. You high-five him, slipping his glasses from your nose and tucking them into the neck of his shirt.

You shrug and drop your chin against your shoulder, bashful.

“That was slick as shit, foxy.”

He’s impressed, proud even, as he writes your score down on the card. Your little victory dance is adorable, his smile growing as you parade around in triumph. You’re still buzzing, the weed sizzling and melting in your bloodstream.

“Your turn, hotshot.”

“Might as well put down a strike for me now.” He points to the scorecard.

“You’re cocky sometimes, you know that?”

“Pfft, only sometimes? If I bury ten, I get to borrow those pants next weekend.” He points to your gold sequins and your roll your eyes playfully.

“You know I’d let you, anyway.”

“Mm, but I like winning.”

He picks up his pink ball, throwing you a wink before skillfully lining up his shot. He sinks eight easily, toppling over and knocking the remaining two. Another clean strike. The celebration that proceeds is no less enthusiastic, shared kisses and cheers.

You write down his score on the sheet, as Harry seemingly loses all interest in the bowling game at hand. It’s hard to focus on anything but you, and with his own buzz slowly dissipating, he’s only high off you.

He presses you against the table, your breath hitching as his hands slide down the backs of your thighs. His lips brush yours and you’re quick to flick your tongue out against his bottom lip.

“You owe me ten kisses, pretty girl.”

Your hands tangle into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. “Can I get a please?”

The smirk that curls at his lips creates a warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest. “Feeling bossy tonight, hm? You wanna call the shots?”

Genuinely intrigued by the idea, you tilt your head shyly. “Would you let me?”

“You’re asking if I’d let you be in control, little fox? Let you sit on my face, ride my cock as long as you like?”

Hearing the words leave his mouth strips all moisture from your mouth. It’s streamed between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together to quell the sudden intense burst of arousal.

“Harry, please.”

His expression is one of heady desire, “I’ll be your good boy tonight. You just need to give me a kiss, first.”

The sentence barely leaves his lips before your lips meet his. Messy and heated. His lips encasing your lower one, your tongue finding his. He doesn’t even attempt to stifle the moan that rumbles in his chest.

He presses tightly against you, and you can feel his cock hardening beneath his denim jeans. You pull away, your eyes lulled. Harry smiles lazily, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before giving your ass a full squeeze.

“Let’s ditch this joint, hm? Burn some rubber in the Dodge, you can give me a handy on the way back to yours.”

You don’t even have the willpower to slap him for the comment, too enthralled with his sudden change of mood. Sappy and gooey, you just want each other.

“What about the game?” You gesture to the bowling alley.

“It’s a tie, or you win. I don’t care, I just wanna get home and let you use me.”

After collecting your belongings and swapping the bowling shoes for your own, you find yourselves tucked into his Dodge Charger, the engine roaring to life. The bright nightlife reflects off the yellow exterior of the car as Harry drives through the streets of Miami.

Harry turns up the radio, All Along The Watchtower booming through the speakers, bass thrumming in your throat. You put the window down and get lost in the breeze. The song, the man you’re with, feels like something one could only dream of.

Harry has one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your thigh. He squeezes it every so often, and you have to take a deep breath to stabilise how turned on you are. It’s thick and cloudy between you.

His jaw is sharp, his eyes are trained on the road. He leans over at a red light, sealing your lips together in a kiss that you feel in the pit of your stomach.

As the light turns green and his foot is pressed on the accelerator, you’re leaning over the center console and nuzzling your face into his neck. The deep, woody vanilla smell is your aromatic home.

Your teeth bite gently into the skin before you suck, knowingly marking him. He hisses, his hold on your leg tightening at the sensation. It creeps higher, eager to feel you. Your hand finds itself on his thigh, inching towards where he wants you most.

You know you don’t have much time before you’re due to pull up at your apartment. And you’re impatient by nature. Your lips don’t leave his neck as your hands work to open his belt, clinking buckle and worn leather parted so you can pull down the zipper of his jeans.

“Oh, my god.” He groans, your fingers finding his length through his briefs. You peek out the window, taking note of where you are and knowing you need to be quick about this.

You carefully pull his length from the confines of his pants, wrapping your fist around him. He breaths out a shaky sigh as you touch him, so hot and silky, getting harder and harder for you. You look at him, flicking your tongue along his jawline to meet his ear.

“Spit on my tongue like a good boy.”

Harry’s hand tightens on the steering wheel, trying to keep his cool as if you aren’t fisting his cock and asking him to spit in your mouth. You pull away, opening your mouth wide and raising your brow expectantly.

Flicking his eyes from yours to the road, he swears under his breath before gripping your chin to steady you. He spits in your mouth, feeling so fucking unhinged that his ears are ringing.

You hum, satisfied before you return your attention to his throbbing cock. You spit directly on the head of his dick, using your hand to spread the moisture down the entirety of him. He lets out a soft moan at the slick feel of your tightened fist.

Your nose nudges his cheek as you work him with your hard, his breathing shaky, blissful noises leaving his mouth as you pick up your pace.

“Do you want my mouth on you, baby?” You mewl, your voice so sweet and sugary in his ear.

“You know I do.”

“Beg me.”

Harry clenches his jaw, wound up so tight from you. He can feel the reigns of control gripped surely in your hands, just as firm as your hold on his cock.

“Please, my little fox. Please let me feel your gorgeous mouth wrapped around me, I need it.”

“How badly do you need it?”

“So fucking bad, please let me fuck your throat, I promise I’ll be good.”

“You want me to have a taste?” You’re loving having the power. Hearing him become so desperate for you, shamelessly beg for you.

“Fuck, please. Please taste it.”

You smirk, pleased with how good he’s been for you. You get comfortable, leaning down so your head is practically in his lap. You flick your tongue against the underside of his tip, moving up to swirl your tongue along it. He’s wet with pre-come and so hard for you.

His thighs tense under you, his hand tangling into your hair. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Filling your mouth with his cock while Jimi Hendrix fills the thick air with his voice.

He almost misses his turn as you envelop his tip past your lips, your hot mouth a welcome warmth that he moans at the feel of. Your hand works his shaft, getting him nice and wet so you can slowly take more of him.

Your throat is tight and Harry chokes out a curse as you take most of him, your muscles constricting around him. So big and so thick but you’re determined to have him as deep as he can go.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He sighs, fisting your hair so tight that tears form in your eyes at the sharpness of it.

He tastes heavenly, and as if that isn’t enough, the sounds he makes are otherworldly. They egg you on, spur you to make him feel as good as possible. You work him harder, bobbing up and down while your hand jerks his skin.

Harry is near on sobbing above you, having to focus on the road even though his vision is blurring. The purr of the engine and the wet hot of your mouth is too fucking much. He comes to a stop at a red light a little too harshly and you come up to glare at him.

“Be careful-“

But he’s pushing you back down, his expression almost panicked. Someone’s pulled up next to you at the red light. “Shh, shh, don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop. Shit, that’s fucking good. Oh, my god.”

The light switches to green and after Harry completes a turn, you come up again, your glare even harder this time.

“Who’s in control again?”

“Oh, shit-“

“Answer the fucking question.”

He swallows, panting. “You are, sweet girl.”

“Exactly. If you try to boss me around, I’ll make you sit on your hands while I fuck myself.”

“Jesus Christ-“

“Do you understand? I’ll get out that pink toy you like so much, let it be the only thing that fills my pussy tonight.”

“Fuck, yes I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Will you be a good boy?” You check, on fire with how hot it is being the dominant one tonight.

“Yes, I’ll be your good boy.”

Satisfied with his answer, you swallow him again. Not giving him a second before his tip is nestled right against the back of your throat. You hum around him, the vibrations driving him wild. You can feel him pull over to the curb, and a quick glance out the window tells you that you’ve reached your apartment.

You don’t give him any room to question how the night will go, you simply head inside while he puts his rock-hard dick back into the tight denim of his jeans and chases after you.

At first, you spent an equal amount of time at each other’s apartments. But, over time, it became clear that Harry favours your own abode. So much warmer and homely than his. A woman’s touch that his is missing. He loves your bright green sofa, the stacks of books that serve as little side tables.

It had been an unspoken observation, met by two surging souls. He noticed the little things at first. You started to stock your cupboard with some of his favourite snacks, an extra toothbrush found a home in your bathroom. And, after a while, he barely found himself leaving it.

You’re pressed against the mint-toned refrigerator, fervent lips attached to your neck. You push him away playfully with a raised brow. Always so used to taking you how he wants to, he’s forgotten who’s in control tonight.

He releases a breathy laugh as you walk towards him. He backs away, falling into a chair at the dining table. It’s right where you coerced him, right where you want him.

You strip your shirt off, throwing it over his head and he removes it with a chuckle, not wanting to miss a thing. You decide to discard your bra as well, knowing how much he loves your tits and how much he’ll hate not being able to touch them and play with them.

“You like these pants, Harry?” Your fingers toy with the waistband and he shifts restlessly in his seat.

“I love whatever you wear. You make everything look so fucking sexy.”

You purse your lips. “Great answer.”

Your response has his heart leaping in his chest, feeling as if he just got a gold star. Hoping he can cash it in at some point tonight for an ounce of control.

“And what if I told you that the panties match?” You continue.

“Then I’d fucking beg to see them.”

“Do it, then.”

Your expression is unreadable and he just knows that you’re having too much fun with this.

“Please, let-“

“Uh uh.” You stop him. “On your knees.”

Harry is slow to comply, and maybe it’s so he can coerce a reaction from you. You tap your foot, the white platforms tall and intimidating. He’s on his knees in front of you, his expression soft and pleading as he stares up at you through his lashes.

“Please, baby. Let me see them. I’ve been so good, I promise I’ll behave.”

You scoff. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“I need to see your pretty panties. Your cunt is my favourite place, let me see how you’ve dressed her.”

You try to hide how his words make you feel, and you’re surprised you don’t melt into a puddle next to him. He always says the right thing. Granted, it’s always filthy and shameless, but it’s what you need.

“So desperate.” You smirk, holding his eye contact.

He licks his lips, not even denying it. He’s not ashamed, hell, he’ll even shout it from the rooftops if that’s what you want. His eyes fan down your legs as you peel your pants off, discarding them, left in nothing but your heels and your panties.

The panties are heavenly, ethereal. Mouth fucking watering. He’s surprised there’s not a puddle of drool on the ground next to him. White lace embroidered with golden threaded flowers. So delicate and angelic beneath the glittering excitement of the sequins.

You click your fingers, trying to get his attention. His hand reaches out and you smack it away. “Naughty boy.”

“I’m sorry,” He rasps. “I’ll keep my hands to myself. I promise.”

“What about your mouth?”

“It’s yours to use.”

His curls are a mess atop his head, falling down his forehead in chocolate tendrils. His chest is heaving, his hands clenched into impatient fists he wants to grip your hair while he fucks you.

You take a single step forward, his face level with your panties. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath fan over your core, so needy for him. You’re sure that the panties are saturated at this point, you can feel how wet you are and just know you’ll leave his face a mess.

You bring one of your feet up and rest it on the chair right behind him. Harry gulps, waiting for your next instruction.

“Do you like them?” You ask, your fingers toying with the band of the panties at your hips.

“Yes, so fucking much.”

“Such a dirty mouth.”

You lean down, gripping his chin so hard his jaw drops. Harry’s not expecting you it when you spit on his tongue, it’s messy, speckling on his lips a little. He moans deep in his chest, keeping his mouth open, ready to obey.

“I’ll have to give it something better to do.” You coo, pulling your panties to the side to expose your core to him.

At the sight of your glistening pussy, Harry shifts on his knees, so desperate to taste you. To bury his face against you, fuck you with his tongue while his nose presses against your clit. Bossy little fox, he’s trying to behave but it’s so fucking hard.

Your fingers run along your clit, further down to where you’re wettest. You spread your arousal, swirling along the sensitive bundle of nerves. Harry’s nostrils flare at the sight, your moans are soft as you touch yourself.

Anchoring your foot on the chair with your center right in front of his face, your hand takes a fistful of his hair. With your hold on him, you bring his face forward, putting his mouth directly on your cunt.

His mouth is searing hot, so wet against you. Not wasting any time, Harry flicks his tongue out, between your folds to collect your wetness and closing his lips around your clit in a kiss. You throw your head back with an unsteady sigh, finally getting the attention that you’ve been craving all night.

It started as an electric throbbing, intensified every time he looked at you or touched you. Now it feels like a wildfire that blooms in the pit of your stomach and flares through to every nerve in your body.

Harry, finally happy to be allowed to touch you, eats your pussy with ardent lust. He’s desperate, frantic almost. You moan loudly at how good he is at this. How good he makes you feel, how desirable. He loves your body, loves touching it, making it hum for him.

You roll your hips forward, unable to contain yourself. He nibbles gently on your clit and you gasp out, pulling on his hair. His eyes flicker up to you, sparkling with mischief before they close as he hums, tasting you deeper, getting you wetter.

Your legs shake as he targets your clit even more, knowing it drives you fucking mad. You put your foot back on the ground, pulling your core away from him. His mouth chases after it, not ready to not have you on his tongue. Your taste drives him mad and he’s a man addicted.

He stands, desperate to have you but you push him back roughly. He lands on the chair with a thud, staring up at you with a bewildered expression. His curls are even more of a mess at this point.

“Let me taste you. I’ll make you come as many times as you want.”

“What did I tell you about that mouth?”

“You’ve soaked your pretty panties, sweet fox. Better take 'em off.”

You move to stand in front of him, gripping his jaw in your hand. Harry’s so fucking turned on, his cock unbelievably hard beneath his denim jeans that it’s starting to hurt.

“Stop talking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The glint in his eyes does little to instill your confidence in him. He’s far too cocky, too cheeky to actually obey you. He’ll find a way to capture the reigns at some point, but not yet. You’re only just getting started.

As gracefully as you can, you sit upon the table in front of him. Harry swears under his breath at the sight, immediately lurching forward almost as if it’s an instinct. Your heeled foot presses against his chest, halting him before pushing him back into his seat.

You make him wait, spreading your legs. He pants, his eyes flicking between your panties and your face. Waiting. So patient.

“Take my panties off.” You instruct. He raises his hand and you tut. “Uh uh, use your teeth.”

Harry growls, placing his hands on the edges of the table and licking a bold stripe up your thigh. You tense, wishing his tongue was back on your cunt but you know this payoff will be good.

His nose runs along the edge of your panties, right next to where you want him. He flicks his tongue out against your inner thigh and your legs jump at the attention. His teeth meet the band at your hip, drawing it down slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours once, ensnared in you.

With one side lowered to your upper thigh, he moves to the other side, sucking the skin of your navel right above the band of your panties. You gasp as a mark forms before he pulls down your panties from your hip.

You shift your hips up, helping him peel them down your legs, taking them in his fist and shoving them in his pocket.

“Good boy.” You praise. “Come get your taste.”

The words have barely left your lips before his mouth is on your cunt again. Vibrating against you as a moan rocks through him. You taste so fucking good, maybe even more than usual because of how withholding you’ve been.

You collapse against the table, the surface cool against your back. His enthusiasm is unparalleled. The kind of pleasure he gives so easily used to be the kind you could only fake with partners. But he does everything so well.

“Perfect little pussy,” He coos against you.

He traps your clit between his teeth before flicking the tip of his tongue against it. You cry out, your thighs closing around his head. He delves his tongue south, finding your entrance and gathering the gushing wetness.

He doesn’t hesitate to go further down, his tongue massaging your rare entrance briefly before he’s pulling back and spitting directly on your pussy. His eyes meet yours and you just about pass out at the sight of his face fucking saturated with you. Almost dripping off of his soaked chin.

You grip his head, pushing him back down. He’s happy to oblige, eating you out so fast and intense that your vision starts to blur.

“Fuck, yes right there, oh my god.”

He sucks on your clit, humming to vibrate the area. You come up to rest on your elbows, wanting to watch him. You roll your hips up and he becomes idle, letting you fuck his face. He falls back into the chair, his hand coming down to massage his dick through his jeans while you grind your cunt against him.

“Are you going to come in your pants while you eat my pussy?” Your tone is verging on condescending and Harry almost finishes right then and there.

His cock throbs at your words, so out of it for him. He feels unhinged, so close to shutting you up and plunging his length into you. You’re so wet and so sweet for him, it would be so easy to slide into your plush cunt and feel your walls grip him like a fist. But he wants you to come like this first.

“Let me give you my fingers, baby. Want you to squirt all over me, make a fucking mess of me. Please let me.”

“Not… yet…” You breathe out, even though you feel so fucking close you could scream.

As if sensing your control slipping, you push him away. You can feel your orgasm brewing and you know that as soon as it hits, you’ll be a writhing mess and your game will come to a finish the second that you do.

“What-“

“I don’t want to come yet.” You gasp, your chest heaving and your core tingling with heat.

“You really want to play this game, little fox?”

You stand your ground. “Go get on the bed.”

Your bedroom is his favourite place. Warm yellow and orange ambiance, a wide bed with crushed velvet bedding. That in abundance with your fervor and passion, Harry swears it’s like sleeping in the sun. Golden, burning desire, deliciously cocooning beams of sunny adoration that wash over you.

As if he’s missed the warmth of it, he sits eagerly on the edge of your bed with a soft bounce. He peels off his shirt, feeling too hot to keep it on. His belt is already undone, he unbuttoned his jeans and you tap your foot.

You saunter towards him, a prowess with hauntingly lustful eyes. He clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness decorate his chin mouth still. You push him flat onto the bed, crawling to straddle him. Your core presses against the fly of his jeans and you can feel how hard his cock is.

His hands find your hips immediately and you push them away with a glare.

“Keep your hands off.”

“Make me.”

Taking it as a challenge, you lean over to the bedside table and open the middle drawer. A draw often opened whenever you and Harry find yourself tangled up in these sheets. A drawer of trust and exploration. You grab a few things, hiding one object under the pillow so he doesn’t see it.

With two pieces of rope, you tie around his wrists and attach the ropes to the steel rings in your headboard. Harry had them installed as soon as he realised how much you loved being restrained in bed. Turns out, he enjoys it just as much.

Your relationship with Harry is a constant stream of excitement. At first, you thought that potentially he would always have the upper hand. But the reality is, you’re two equal souls in every aspect. You split bills, you wear each other’s clothes, you both had control in bed. It has never been like this, though. Tonight is new and different.

He allows you to tie him up, barely tensing his muscles and pulling on the restraints. You know that you’ll be unable to untie him in a split second if he wants to, but the smug look on his face tells you he’s content. For now.

You scoot up, sitting on his chest, smooth and inked. You spread your legs, settling your feet on either side of him. Harry licks his lips at the sight of your core right in front of him. He can see that you’re almost dripping and he wants to catch it with his tongue.

He has no idea what you have planned, only knows that you’re having too much fun playing with him like this.

His eyes watch your every movement, on edge yet intrigued to see what you’ll do next. One hand reaches down to palm his cock through his jeans. He shifts his head back into the pillow with a low groan. Now that you’ve successfully distracted him, your other hand reaches for the other item you retrieved from the draw.

Upon hearing you sigh, his eyes fly open. You have the pink dildo in your hand, running it between your saturated folds. Harry pulls on the restraints, wanting to touch you so fucking bad.

“Holy shit.”

You bite your lip, gripping his cock harder. You pull down the zipper, slipping your hand inside. His briefs are wet with arousal and you push past the barrier of them to find his bare cock.

You lean back a little, fully exposing yourself and slipping the tip of the toy lower. His eyes are full of pleading as you slowly push it inside with a soft mewl. Your hand remains on his cock, slowly working the skin.

“Baby-“

“What?” You raise your brow.

“Please, fuck me instead.”

You smirk, slowly shifting your hips as the tip of the toy sits snugly inside of you. You push it in further, your eyes fluttering at the full sensation of it. It’s nowhere near as good as Harry, but you moan like it is.

Harry shifts with a growl, seeing you look so blissful from something other than him driving him mad. His favourite little gasp you make when he first pushes his cock past your tight walls is now ushered because of a fake dick.

You throw your head back, starting to fuck yourself with the toy. So wound up from the entire night. You work the dildo faster, stirring yourself into a frenzy. Not holding back your moans and cries because you can feel how tense Harry is beneath you because of them.

“Fuck, please stop.” He whimpers, so desperate to have you.

You moan loudly. “I’m so close.”

“Please, oh my fucking god. Please, let me fuck you, I can’t take it. I need to make you come. Please. I’ll do anything please just-“

While he rambles, you grab your panties from his pocket and shove them in his mouth, shutting the stream of begs off right at the source. He garbles around the intrusion, pissed off now. You lick your hand and reach behind you, gripping his cock again.

“Be. Good.”

He growls, slamming his head back into the pillow in annoyance. You continue fucking yourself, grinding your hips. The warmth build and tingles in your lower stomach, the toy pressed tight against your g-spot from this angle.

The warmth blooms and spreads, so close to exploding. Your walls clench mercilessly around the dildo and you gasp at the pleasure building hot and fast. Harry can tell that you’re almost there. Tell that he’s worked you up with his mouth and now you’re edging towards the precipice of euphoria.

“Feels so good,” You gasp. “so fucking big, oh shit.”

Harry bucks his hips up, pulling on the restraints around his wrists until it burns. You reach forward, removing the panties from his mouth. As fun as it is to gag him with them, you miss his voice, miss the dirty words that colour it.

“Give me your pussy now.” He snarls.

“Do you deserve my pussy, Harry?”

“Yes,” He hisses. “I’ve been good for you, haven’t I? Now untie me so I can fuck you.”

“No.”

Harry swears loudly, pulling on the ropes and you’re sure he’s about to break through them. But then he relaxes to glare at you, his nostrils flaring.

“You’re in big trouble, little fox.”

You fuck yourself harder, unfazed. “I’m sure I am.”

“You know that as soon as you untie me I’m going to fucking ruin you, don’t you?”

The threatening promise sets you off, your orgasm hitting you so hard you almost collapse at the pleasure of it, crying out his name. Your vision is blurred, tiny white dots clouding it. You remove the toy just as a burst of clear liquid from your cunt paints Harry’s chest and face.

Harry’s jaw drops as it hits him, his eyes narrowed at your expression. You look gorgeous when you come and from this angle, he can see everything. Feel it as it wets him.

“Fucking shit.” He hisses, surprised that he didn’t just come because of what is the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

You come around quickly, stripping off his shoes and jeans before shifting to settle between his legs. He calls your name as you take his cock in your hand before quickly swallowing him. He grits his teeth, so fucking close to exploding down your throat.

“Untie me.”

Your eyes twinkle with mischief, taking him deeper. Your hand plays with his balls, rolling them in your palm gently. Harry throws his head back, his ears ringing. He snaps his head back up, seeing his glistening chest painted in your orgasm.

And then he feels something circle his ass, nudging very carefully at his rare entrance. The toy. Saturated in your wetness, now about to be used on him. Just the idea of it has his balls pulling up tight and his entire body tingling. If you progress further, he’ll finish before you even get started.

“No, no you naughty little- fuck!”

His cock is tucked snugly down your throat, the sensation unreal as you gag around him. You continue to tease him with the toy and he just about loses it.

“Baby, you gotta stop. I’m right there, fucking stop.”

He starts to almost panic, not sensing you slow down at all. Almost as if possessed, he flexes every muscle in his arms and rips right through the rope restraining his wrists. You jump up in shock, standing at the edge of the bed.

You’re not able to get far as he grips you by your throat and presses his forehead against yours. His chest is heaving as he pushes through his aggression.

“What did I tell you, hm?”

You smirk and it pisses him off further.

His voice is low and dangerous and he grips your throat tighter. “I told you that I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“You’re all talk.” You manage out past the grip of his hand.

His fingers move from your throat to the nape of your neck. He pushes your face towards his glistening chest.

“Dirty fucking girl. Look at the mess you made. Clean me up and then ask me to fuck you.”

You hum, smiling at how filthy he is. You push him back onto the bed, following after him. Your tongue licks up the mess from your orgasm on his chest, up his neck, and his chin. You suck on his tongue, your limbs feeling like jelly and you know you’ll be a mess before he’s even done with you.

“There’s my good girl.”

You want to defy him a little more. You kiss down his chest again, down his toned stomach, and find his navel with your teeth. He hisses out, taking a fistful of your hair. He’s not falling for this again. He needs to fuck you. Now.

He grabs you, flipping you on your stomach and spanking your ass hard. And then again on the other side. You cry out his name, feeling a little disorientated from the change of position and sudden switch of control.

He’s holding the reigns now.

He bites your reddening cheek, growling out and coming to straddle over you. You turn your head to watch him and he shoves your face into the bedding. You can’t even hide your glee, pleased to have successfully riled him up this much.

He spreads your cheeks, slipping his fingers between your folds to feel how wet you are. He cocks his head to the side with a smile before he wraps his hand around your chin, delving three fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, knowing he wants them nice and wet.

Now wet, he spreads the moisture on his fingers along his cock and lines himself up to your cunt.

He pauses, moving his hand from your head so you can turn to look at him. “Say please.”

“Please fuck me.” You whimper.

“Are you done with your little game?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

And then he’s slamming into you so hard you feel winded. He doesn’t stop, pressing into you before retracting. He fucks you into the mattress, his hands anchored on your hips as he takes you. He knows he won’t last long, so overworked from the whole night. Your cunt is wrapped around him so tight and it doesn’t help.

He spreads your cheeks, spitting directly on your ass and he uses his thumb to spread it. You stifle a moan as he massages the tight area before slowly pressing his thumb in. While he’s slow and gentle there, his cock is splitting you in half, shredding an overwhelming euphoria inside of you that he knows how to build so well.

“Fuck, Harry, so good-“

“Yeah? Is this what you want, hm? Want me to get rough with you?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Mm, or did you just wanna play with me? Tie me up, play with that dildo, squirt all over me, leave me all wet. Fucking tease my ass with the toy you made yourself come with.”

“Fuck, yes. I wanted to tease you.”

“Filthy fucking thing. You think daddy will let you play with his ass like that?”

“Yes, daddy.” You breathe out.

“Think again.” He exchanges his thumb for two fingers, slipping them into your ass with ease and matching his rhythm with his cock.

You can feel the pressure in your stomach as he pushes you against the mattress. He’s so out of it, delirious with his need to fuck you until you’re a blubbering mess. You fist the covers, needing to grip something before you lose it. He’s everywhere. On your tongue, in your ass, your pussy, your fucking soul.

You feel like you’re about to come, and Harry curses as your walls clamp around his cock, feels you tighten around his fingers. He pulls out, moving you onto your side and lying behind you. He kisses you, gripping your outer leg to hold it up. He drags you closer, slipping his cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck, dreamy fucking cunt. My favourite, oh shit.” He’s obsessed with how you feel and you can sense that he’s lost all ability to think straight.

With your arm wrapped around his neck, you roll your hips back to meet his thrusts. You’re so wet for him, the slaps in the room of his skin hitting yours growing louder and louder. He grips your wrists in his hand, licking his fingers on his other hand before reaching down to play with your clit.

He’s notorious. Knowing you’re overly sensitive. He pinches it between his fingers, rolling and rubbing it. You careen forward, so overwhelmed and so close to coming. It’ll shatter you, you can just feel it.

Harry flips you onto your back, coming over you and putting your legs on his shoulders. His hands shake as he reconnects with you and starts fucking you so hard you don’t know which way is up. He loves fucking you this way. He can see everything, see your face, see how hard you shake.

You cry out as he places his hand on your abdomen, pressing down until you can feel his cock and the pressure of it.

“You gonna come, sweet fox?”

You nod, tears forming in your eyes at the intensity of him.

“Yeah? Go on, give it to me.” He encourages.

Almost as if it needed permission from him, your body explodes automatically. Wet, tight, toe-curling. Harry admires how fucking beautiful you look when you come. So out of it, spiraling in a world of pleasure that leaves him wetter than your last orgasm.

“Yes,” He hisses out, lightheaded at how tight you are. “good fucking girl.”

You grip his arms, trying to hold onto anything while it feels like you’re floating through nothingness. Your core is unrelenting, sucking him deeper and deeper, pulsing through the aftershocks of your orgasm. Harry groans, releasing your legs and dropping his face into your neck.

His thrusts turn into grinds, wanting to get as deep as possible inside of you. Addicted to how snug you are.

“Fuck, so close.” He rasps. "Dreamy fuckin' pussy. Made for me. Made for my cock, holy shit."

Your fingers tangle into his hair, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your heels dig into his back and your hands pulling his hair adds to the sensation.

“Come, Harry. Please, I need it.”

“F-Fuck, where?”

“Inside me.” Your words are barely a whisper but he hears them loud and clear, encourages him to fuck you harder.

“Yeah? Want daddy to fill you up with his cum?"

"Please,"

"I’ll give you all of it, get you fuckin' pregnant. Make you give us a baby. Fuuuck, I’ll cum in you every fuckin' day until it happens.”

“Fuck, please.” You whimper, so turned on and in awe of what he’s blabbering about.

Harry’s orgasm hits him like a freight train. He doesn’t stop fucking you through it, grinding and screwing up into you. Your walls are painted with thick white ropes of his cum and you gasp at the feeling of how deep he is. He bites down on your neck, moaning your name with a deep growl.

He kisses you for ages after, his cock softening inside you. Your body feels like a live wire, your heart thumping boldly in your chest. Harry gives you a final kiss before retrieving a washcloth from the bathroom to clean you with.

Your frown at his raw wrists, burned from the rope. “They look sore.”

He shrugs, his eyes kind. “Doesn’t hurt that bad. Let me take care of you.”

So, you let him. He always takes care of you. Takes his time to cherish your body, restore it and clean it. Kiss every inch and tell you how much he loves it. He traces your stretch marks, kisses every freckle, soothes every trembling limb.

And, once he’s done, you reciprocate with another cloth. Gentle kisses, even more gentle touches to his wrists. You run your hands through the mess of curls, cuddling him close as you settle under the covers of your golden abode, feeling warm and loved and content.

“I left my soul at The Score.” Harry comments, running his hands up and down your back.

“You fucked mine out of me.”

His chest shakes as he laughs, kissing your forehead with a chuckle. “It was those damn panties. They possessed me.”

You both laugh softly, wrapped up in each other with tranquil heaven that exists wherever your two hearts are connected.

He has diminished any chance of a sullen existence in a sometimes devastating world, a delicate and colourful essence that was made for you. He’s a burst of light, shrouding any ounce of uncertainty. A rush of adenine that makes life worth the rush. The resolute constant that will cradle and cocoon you. He is every adventure and endeavor. And you’re his sidekick till the very end, benevolent and tender-hearted.

Foxy, bubblegum, snow, and cloudy joints. All are facets that encapsulate two souls melding into one inconceivably free entity.

[akunya]

"a lending hand."

pairings: sonny brisko x m!reader

summary: oh no! im stuck and i cant get out and my big, sexy brother is home alone with me! whatever shall i do.. tw: INCEST, mindbreak, size difference, manipulation. NONCON/DUBCON, dacryphilia, RIMMING, degradation, dirty talk, feminization(?), etc. notes: this was a lovely commission from someone that requested more sonny-nii! i got a bit too into it and wrote way more than i was expecting. they gave me permission to share it with everyone, yay!

commission info is here , this fic is incredibly perverted so.. just a warning.

truly, honestly, from the bottom of your very heart — you didn’t mean to get stuck underneath the bed with your lower half sticking out like the most predictable homemade porno in history.

but, alas, you did.

you were stuck, and as embarrassing as it was to have another person see you like this, you needed help.

trying to reach for something underneath your bed was clearly the wrong choice. fingers stretching, eyebrows furrowed as you extended your arm as much as it could go. “..come.. on..!” you sighed in frustration, laying your head down and accepting your fate before the door creaked open.

“y/n? are you alright? i heard the bed creak—.”

sonny couldn’t finish his sentence, freezing at your doorway. “sonny! that’s you, isnt it?” his eyes raked over your poor, helpless little body. his breathing became ragged, licking his lips.

“oh.” was this.. a dream? his adorable little brother, the boy who invades his dreams every night, sprawled out and bent over for him? the blonde gulped, his body feeling warm. wearing those slutty little shorts you insisted on, you barely left anything to imagination for the poor man, the slim fabric showing a perfect outline of your ass. so innocent — so slutty.

clearing his throat, the eldest spoke up. “um, what happened, little bro..?” sonny tried to speak as innocently as he could. he started to move a bit closer, hovering over you eerily quiet.

you looked so small like this.. bent over on the floor, ass in the air. he knew that his stature compared to yours displayed a significant height difference, but this made his head spin. “i-i was stupid, tried to reach for something that fell behind my bed, but ended up stuck in this thing. i can’t seem to pull myself out, it’s too tight. do you think you could help?”

your room was met with an uncomfortable silence.

thoughts ran through sonnys head. “was this.. okay to do?” his inner consciousness fought relentlessly, eyes staring at the door then back at you. he shouldn’t— he couldn’t! you were his little brother, and sure, even if you were older now, that didn’t excuse him being a pervert! he should just help you out and excuse himself to his room like he always does, right? yknow, the right thing an older brother would do?

the breaking point, however, was when you had shimmied your hips, trying to find a position that was less painful on your knees. your shorts had angled themselves in a way that sonny had a full view of your dick, peeking through the fabric, small and innocent and inviting.

he needed to have you. now.

it felt like forever had passed, until you cleared your throat. “big bro? i asked if you could—“ your sentence was cut off by the harsh slap on your ass, emitting a surprised yelp from yourself as sonny sighed. yea, this was obviously the correct choice. the skin was already reddening from his rough hand, making you wince in discomfort.

“ive always wanted to do that.” his laugh was shaky, smiling to himself as his palm began to sting from the impact. his heart felt as if it would burst in his poor little chest, letting his other hand slap the other cheek. “ow!” you wailed this time, head bumping against the bottom of the mattress as you tried to instinctively get away. but you couldn’t — you were trapped in sonny’s grasp. sonny was strong. he had to be, given his line of work and title, but you never really learned the true extent of it until today. the officer couldn’t help himself, fingers grabbing onto the waistband of your shorts and pulling everything off, your bottom half exposed.

“god, look at you, little bro. your body is so perfect. we’re you waiting for this the entire time?” you stood silent, speechless at what was unfolding. even if you had shook your head ‘no’, sonny wouldn’t care, quickly giving into his own perverse desires. of course you did this on purpose — why wouldn’t you? it was too perfect of a moment not to be planned out beforehand. the slutty little outfit, your parents not being home until tomorrow, and sonny having the weekend off. how considerate of you, to think of your creepy older brother like this. your ass looked so inviting, the blondes mouth started to water. his intrusive thoughts won, shuffling closer until his mouth was mere centimeters away from your little hole.

“wait, s-sonny, you can’t!” you tried to squirm away, sonnys hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place; not that he needed much help, with the mattress sandwiching you. moaning, your toes curled in pleasure as your brother began making out with your asshole, groaning and huffing behind you. it felt beyond dirty, your sounds only spurring him further, tongue delving past the tight rim of muscle as he closed his eyes in pure bliss. it was every perverts dream, after all.

his skilled tongue slurped obscenely in your hole, your cock pitifully leaking tiny spurts of precum from how dirty this all was. it felt humiliating. having your ass eaten as a guy was one of the least things you’d expected to ever happen to you. sonnys face was flushed, eating as if he was a starved man, lips and chin glossy with spit. everytime the man pulled back, he just delved right back in, your resolve stripping away with every flick of his tongue. it was so sloppy, some of his saliva even dripped down your taint, a trail dripping onto the floor. the older man groaned, furiously pumping.. was that his cock? fucking into his hand, sonny gave one last smooch to your hole, pulling away with a sigh. your cock twitched, whining at the loss of touch as your hole fluttered around nothing. you were aching, core nearly on fire with how badly you needed him — someone, anything to fill you up, as shameful as it made you feel.

for better or for good, the blonde was impatient. smirking, sonny popped open a small bottle of lube, the click making your heart drop. was he..?

“b-big bro, this isn’t funny anymore, okay..? just help me out of here, please?” you spoke up, voice shaky without a single threat in them. i mean, what could you do? you were in sonnys hands now, and no one was coming to help you for hours, lower half exposed and ready for the claim. sonny hummed in response, a hand tenderly caressing your red skin, thumb cheekily slipping into your hole.

“of course ill help you out, y/n. i never said i wouldnt.” sighing in relief, you wiggled your ass, trying to squirm and get yourself out. unfortunately, in sonnys twisted mind, it looked as if you were teasing him even more. he took his thumb out of your ass, instead teasing the gaping hole with the tip of his cock. practically growling, his hand spanked the soft skin of your behind, shuffling to get even closer to you.

fucking slut. “..i didn’t say id let you out right now, though. be good for me, won’t you?” you didn’t even have time to process sonnys words before he slipped inside you, gripping your ass as he let out a loud moan.

“fuck, oh god..” the officer cursed under his breath, eyes closed from how blissful your walls were clenching around him. you sobbed softly, at least thankful that being stuck here meant sonny didn’t have to see how pathetic you looked — not like it would deter him from his goal or anything. “you’re so tight, i can — hah! barely move, fuck!”

the squelch of your lubed ass sucking his cock in made you cringe, sonny losing himself in the erotica of it all. taking off his shirt, he pulled out, granting you a moment of relief before he slammed back in again. “s-sonny!” you tried to get up again, hitting your head hard against the metal frame of the mattress, but sonny didn’t care. he couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. you were so smaller so tight, so pliant in his hands. the blonde showed no mercy, pistoning into your poor body with little grunts of appreciation.

full. you felt so, so full. it wasn’t a surprise sonny had a big cock to match his big stature, but god, you swore you could feel him in your tummy as he abused your little hole. before you knew it, you were moaning now, desperate little whines of pleasure as sonny rammed in that spot that made you see stars for the first time in your life. “b-big bro.. slow.. nnh..!” sonny chuckled, spanking you again to add to the other countless times today, cock twitching inside of you. the wet plap of skin against skin did nothing to help your brain, slowly turning into mush with every stir of the blondes dick.

“you like this, don’t you, y/n? getting fucked like a girl? yea?” you whined loudly, the coil in your stomach only growing tighter and tighter because of sonnys filthy words. you were positive you wouldn’t be able to sit after this, from the way the older man fucked you as if he wanted to make your insides remember his shape. drooling, your legs were wide open, wanting more of the sickly pleasure he was drowning you in. “sonny, o-onii, i cant—!”

god, maybe sonny should’ve pulled you out from underneath this mattress. he licked his lips, so badly wanting to shove his tongue in your mouth, trap you in a mating press like you deserve. hissing from how tight you clenched around him, sonny extended his hand to squeeze your cock, relishing in the loud cry you let out. “come on then, little bro! i know you can do it. cum for me.” his voice dropped low, his pace unforgiving on your poor little body as you came with another yell, thick seed pooling below. seeing you cum all because of him was enough to send the pervert into his own frenzy, quickly cumming after you. his load spilled deep inside, sighing in relief as you groaned.

your body fucking ached, bruised and sore everywhere. you didn’t even have the strength to keep your knees up, only held by sonnys strong hands as he coo’ed at your pitiful state. don’t worry, little one — your big brother would take care of you all weekend long.

“ill let you out now, okay? then, we can go for round two.”

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Skin Deep - A Birthday Treat

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Word count: 5.4k

A/N: This is mostly kind of unedited, so be kind and don’t judge me too harshly. I wanted to get this out yesterday, but life just sort of got in the way. Hope y’all enjoy!

Appreciate all the love, support and feedback!

Shout out to Nessa @asparrowofthedawn for helping me work through this “blurb” idea ❤️

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI! (Oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, dirty talk, ice play, spit kink, degradation kink)

Masterpost

Skin Deep Playlist

You adjust the fit of your new lingerie, a set you had picked out specifically for this day, shimmying it beneath your matching sundress as you stand in front of the bathroom mirror. The guys had thankfully kept themselves occupied by playing one of their video games in the living room, giving you plenty of time to fix your hair to your liking, a half-up twisted knot. You had even gone as far as to pack your curling iron from your apartment to style the ends so they sit nicely against your bare shoulders. Leaning in so you’re a few inches from the mirror, you give a final swipe of the carefully selected lipstick across your bottom lip.

You look good. Really good.

It’s not that you never wore makeup or dressed up like this, but being around them gives you a sense of comfort like this was your second home. A place where you can be yourself and feel confident knowing that they’ll appreciate your natural beauty. Josh makes a point of it, telling you over and over that he finds you the most irresistible when you’re wearing nothing but a pair of cotton panties and one of his favorite t-shirts. 

But today was special, and you’re more than determined to prove that to them. There’s no doubt you’re turned on by how quickly you’ve soaked through the panties you just put on minutes ago. You can’t help it, the thought of having both of them within your reach is nearly too much to bear.

You iron out the wrinkles of your dress with a pass of your palms while giving yourself one last internal pep talk. The little plan you’ve schemed is coming together, and now all you have to do is execute it. 

The t.v can be heard echoing throughout the hallway as you make your way into the living room with each confident stride. Josh’s boisterous laugh cuts through the sounds of the game, making you smile before you even get into their line of vision. 

Just like you predicted, Josh is the one to notice your presence first, breaking his focus away from the screen in a fleeting glance, only to follow it with a double take. As they lock on to you, his gaze lingers, making his eyes instantly light up as he takes you in, absorbing every single detail into memory. His smile, one that you think can’t get any bigger — the one that you adore so much — shows across his face until he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. He tosses the controller onto the coffee table with a loud thud and stretches back into the seat cushion.

Jake has only been paying attention to the game since you’ve been standing here and throws his hands up in frustration as he snaps at his twin, “Dude, what the fuck—“ But his thought is cut off once he sees you like his brain suddenly blanked out. “—Oh.” 

He pauses the game and tosses his controller to the side to eliminate any distraction, an action you’re convinced is unnecessary based on how he’s staring at you right now. His eyes are wide in shock, giving you that cliche deer-in-the-headlights look — an expression you rarely ever see from him. 

Normally you would fight the shy, bashful feeling that’s bubbling in your stomach from that reaction, but instead, you use it to your advantage. You let the rising blush show on your face while you play with the curled ends of your hair, dropping your eyes away from them to look down at the pattern of the hardwood floor.

You allow the tension of the moment to linger for a few seconds, giving them the time to study all the details you had put so much effort into.  Pulling your eyes back up to Josh, you see him leaning back against the cushion, smiling at you like he always does. The glint in his eyes is telling you he’s onto whatever this is and is welcoming it with unbridled enthusiasm. 

He decides to break the silence, with the tone of his voice saying more than the actual words, “Hey baby, we don’t have to be ready to go for a couple more hours.”

You feel Jake’s eyes following your every move as you close the short distance between you until you’re standing inches away from their legs. While making sure to give them both your attention, you say softly, “I know…but I wanted to give you both a present first.”

You follow through with your next move by sliding onto Josh’s lap with your hands braced on his shoulders, which makes your sundress ride up your legs as you sink onto him. You can feel the excitement radiating through him as you adjust, rolling your hips ever-so-slightly so you feel the rough fabric of his jeans grazing the back of your thighs. 

You can feel everything through the delicate, sheer fabric of your panties, the friction of rubbing across the denim alone driving you right to the edge. His thigh muscles flex beneath you as he rolls his hips up, driving his already-hard erection into your core.

It’s no surprise to you that he’s amped up already. You had been teasing him with the idea all day since the two of you woke up this morning, even if it made you feel slightly guilty for making him wait as long as you have. 

“But it’s my birthday, baby,” he whines against your ear with that certain rasp of sleep, a sound he knows is sure to make your thighs clench in need. 

“I know…” You want to give in, to worship his cock for hours with no end in sight, to hear him plead from overstimulation, but you have other plans in mind. You gather whatever is left of your self-control through a shaky sigh, “…but you have to wait until later.”

His parted lips brush against the nape of your neck, tickling the tiny hairs with every languid sweep of his mouth. You have to give it to him for trying because you can’t help but grind your ass against him because of it. “You are a cruel, cruel woman. I think making me wait for birthday sex is the worst thing you’ve ever done.”

You giggle, imagining the pout on his face while separating him from your back with a nudge of your elbow. “For some reason, I think you’ll survive.” He retaliates with a nip at your skin with a squeeze of your breast through your tank top. “And stop trying to make me horny, Joshua Michael.”

“Oh, did you just full name me?” He scoffs as he props himself on an elbow to look over you. You bury your face into the pillow to muffle your laughter just as he leans in to place a kiss below your ear through a smile.“I’ll wait, but I will make no promises on that.”

His soft hands slide along the top of your thighs, slipping below your cotton dress to find the divots of your waist, pulling you even closer. While his thumbs trace along the thin band of your thong, he tips his chin up, breathing in the floral scent of the perfume that you’ve sprayed to the pulse points of your neck. “Giving me my present late, baby?”

You glance over to his left to see Jake acting restless as if he’s been contemplating whether to stay or go, most like a response from thinking this is a private moment between you and his brother. You hum in thought, redirecting your focus while taking Josh’s chin between your fingers and thumb. “I think you might have to share this one, Joshy.”

While you predict that there might be a spark of jealousy from your implication, you’re only met with Josh exchanging a certain look with his twin. One that’s mischievous and knowing given the grin that’s curling on the corners of his lips, causing Jake’s unsure expression to transform in seconds. Usually, silent communication is something you choose to usually ignore, accepting that it’s the product of this dynamic you share. This time, however, is one of those times you wish you could hear all of their inner thoughts.

You guide his attention back to you by bringing him in for a kiss, releasing your hold on his face, and letting your fingers roam over the path of buzzed hair to wrap around the nape of his neck. He’s impatient and greedy, licking across your lips to taste you without a care in the world that they are coated in a velvety-pink hue. He tastes like the tequila and soda he’s been sipping on throughout the afternoon, giving you a teaser of how your evening will pan out. His thumbs hook around the band of your panties while his fingers massage into the supple flesh of your hips. 

Before you run the risk of venturing too far and losing yourself, you break away from him and lean into Jake. He’s startled at first by the brazenness of the action, but melts into the kiss nonetheless, deepening it with every reconnection of your lips. He’s more reserved than Josh today, staying cautious and calculated with the gentle passes of his tongue along yours. He holds your face with his hand as you’re hit with the strong tartness of lime as he had recently sucked on the wedge now floating in his glass only moments prior. You take a needed breath, and because you’ve caught him before he’s gotten ready for the evening and had the chance to put on his favorite cologne, the only things you smell are the detergent off his t-shirt and his natural scent. 

The kiss is continued along his jawline, and he quickly offers you the expanse of his throat with the upward tilt of his head. You spoil his warm, soft skin with lasting kisses, following the delicious path to his ear, and whisper in your sultriest voice, “You can unbutton your pants now, birthday boy.”

While Jake scrambles to pop open his belt, you slowly sit back on Josh’s lap to admire your work of art before you — both your boys covered in a collection of your lipstick marks. Josh is grinning at you, basking in the afternoon sun with smears of pink across both of his lips. Jake is in a similar state, peering down at you through heavy lids as he palms himself over his boxer briefs. 

“So this present…” Josh massages his fingers into your waist as he grinds himself against you. “Can I unwrap it?”

You bite at your bottom lip as you give him the go-ahead with an enthusiastic nod. He needs no other signal and grabs fistfuls of the dress that’s bunched up around the top of your legs, and before he can pull it off you, Jake interrupts with an extended hand,  “Careful!” While Josh freezes his movements, he pauses to look at you before adding, “That’s a new dress, isn’t it, dove?”

You blush at the thought of Jake paying enough attention to you to know what’s new in your wardrobe. “It is. Do you like it?”

“I love it.” There’s something about the drawl of his gravelly voice that holds a deeper intrigue.

“Sorry, baby.” Josh watches his fingertips trace over the tiny roses on the pattern of your dress, traveling up the curves of your body until they stop at your neckline. They dance along the supple skin on the tops of your breasts until he decides to tug on the hanging strings that you’ve tied into a bow as he whispers, “I love it too. It’s beautiful on you.”

With Jake’s instruction, Josh makes a point to be more careful with removing the dress from you. He peels it up your body with your help of lifting your arms as he pulls it over your head. You arch your back to give them the best view of the lingerie set you’ve picked out, hoping they notice that your dress matches perfectly with its sheer white fabric that’s adorned with tiny embroidered pink roses. 

You had chosen it for its soft and feminine details, so sensual in its delicate floral elements that carry a certain grace of spring — something that seems so fitting for this day. From what you can tell, it’s clearly stirring something in Jake for him to see you like this when he’s only ever witnessed you in black or red garments. Josh, however, would probably fuck you if you wearing nothing but one of those cheap Halloween banana costumes. To him, all lingerie you wear is a treat, even if it will most likely end up on the floor minutes later. 

They both stare for several seconds, looking you up and down and in unison, mutter under their breath, “Fuck…”

Jake dares to reach his hand out, presenting the image of the skull inked across the top to the touch to the band of your panties resting on your hip before trailing his fingers toward the embroidered roses decorating the front. Josh is busy focusing solely on your chest, fixating on the same pink flowers on the cups and straps of your bra.

Josh lowers his mouth to your covered breast to graze his lips across your hardening nipple through the lace. The heat of his breath clings to your skin, adding to the sensation of his wet tongue licking across the fabric. You feel the metal of his piercing, which causes a whine to leave your mouth without warning. While he commits to showering your chest with attention, his open hands begin to roam up the length of your back.

Once Josh’s nimble fingers find the metal clasps, Jake interrupts for a second time, but with a noticeable desperation in his voice, “No, wait! Leave them on her.”

He abandons the hooks to play with the straps instead, mumbling into the hollow point of your throat, “Looks like these are a favorite, baby.”

Your preparation has paid off and you can’t hold back the smile forming as you kiss him again. He’s not as rushed this time by letting you take the lead, and while you stay for only a moment, you eventually leave his lips to make your way down his throat as you slide down his body. You take your time placing each perfectly pink imprint of your lips onto his golden-tanned skin until you’re stopped by the collar of his crewneck.

He throws his hands back behind his head as his throaty laugh fills the room. “I fucking love birthdays.”

You sink to the floor between his legs, thankful for the living room rug that’s padding your bare knees. Adjusting to the new position, you run your hands over his legs to massage the tops of his thighs, inching closer with each roll of your fingers over his tight-fitting jeans. He responds by shifting forward on the cushion, extending his back in such a way that gives you easier access to the button of his pants. 

You can see he’s struggling to stay patient with how hard he is — his cock throbbing wildly within his right pant leg without reprieve.  You add to the torment by ghosting over the very obvious erection and dipping your fingers underneath the hem of his shirt, pushing up the soft material up his torso to expose the sensitive skin of his belly. You linger around the metal button of his pants, playing up the act you’re putting on before popping it open with a flick of your wrist. 

Jake disrupts the moment by speaking up, revealing some annoyance in his tone as he asks, “Why does he always get to go first?”

Before you have a chance to respond, Josh huffs out a harsh laugh, “Because I’m older, dipshit.”

His go-to remark makes you think back to the memory of that first night you had spent together in the tattoo shop, causing a smile and blush to appear. As much as you enjoy every intimate moment with each of them, the times like these always stirred something special in you. 

“By five fucking minutes!”

Josh only taunts back, “And you’ll never live it down.”

To avoid ruining the moment, Jake concedes with an aggravated grumble,  “Asshole.”

While they’re preoccupied with their immature bickering, you start pulling the zipper of Josh’s jeans at a painstakingly slow pace, taking his attention away from Jake and back to your hands. You peel the fabric away to the sides, revealing his white boxer briefs as you squeeze his covered cock through the denim.

Despite the fact you’re concentrating solely on Josh, Jake is the one to scold you, “Stop teasing.”

“I will when you stop playing with your boxers and decide to finally pull your cock out,” you quip back, giving him more attitude than you ever have before. You cast your eyes away as you can’t look at him directly in fear of what his next words will be. If it wasn’t for Josh acting as your buffer to save you from punishment, you probably wouldn’t have risked it.

The following seconds are thick with tension from Jake staring down at you and Josh’s stunned expression frozen on his face as he fights back the laugh that wants to escape him. 

Jake eventually releases a heavy sigh, muttering under his breath, “Smart ass.”

A giggle escapes you and Josh quickly joins in, earning himself a painful smack to his arm from the back of Jake’s hand. “Ouch!”

Jake finally takes your cue and pulls himself out of the snug-fitting black cotton. You watch him while slipping your hand beneath Josh’s, causing a loud, visceral groan to push past his lips the second you touch him. He’s warm in your hand, the suede-soft feel of skin brushing against your palm as you wrap your fingers around his length. Feeling the heavy pulse of his heartbeat, you retrieve his cock from the restrictions of his pants and boxers, bringing him out into the open air.

You look up to see Josh peeking through his lust-draped lids, his mouth hanging open in anticipation with panting breaths puffing past his lips. He prepares himself for what’s about to happen by reaching for his drink that’s been sitting on the end table, and taking a large sip of the liquid courage. You extend your free hand, silently asking for a sip as well. 

The tequila soda is watered down considerably at this point, but you’re not worried about the alcohol or taste. What you’re after is the cube of ice that you’ve now dropped into your mouth, stashing it safely against your tongue before handing the glass back to him. Without wasting another second, you place a chilled kiss on the head of his cock, causing a violent shiver to roll through his spine. 

The muscles in his body go rigid as he sucks in a sharp breath when you slide him across your cold tongue. After a few seconds of keeping the ice pressed against the side of his cock, he begins to relax as it starts melting in the heat of your mouth. An unexpected grunt leaves him through this, and he follows the sound with a string of curses as the dual mixture of temperatures overloads his brain. 

Josh wets his lips, mumbling out into the open, “Oh my god, that feels so good.”

The shocking surge of cold, soothed with the intoxicating heat of your mouth is sending him closer to the edge than both of you expect. You swirl your warming tongue around his cock while keeping the base of him wrapped with a loose fist. You know everything that Josh enjoys, the feather-light flicks of your tongue beneath the head of his cock, the twisting strokes of your fingers, the gentle sucking with your lips sealed around him — a sensation that keeps his brain buzzing. 

Your reward is the pitchy whimpers echoing in the base of his throat as his adam’s apple bobs with each harsh swallow, the clawing of his own fingers across his chest and legs, the way he throws his head back and clamps his eyes shut.

With one hand still wrapped around him, you feel across Jake’s right thigh with the other, taking his cock from his loose grasp and finding that he’s just as hard to the touch. You stare at him through your lashes as you start to stroke him at a lazy pace, watching his expression shift with every one of your movements. While holding your gaze, he tips his head slightly forward and parts his mouth, and allows a long, dripping trail of spit to fall from his bottom lip, down to the head of his cock. 

It hits your hand as well, causing your now-wet fingers to glide over his length with ease. The lewd image takes your breath away, causing you to stall on Josh as he stays right below your lips, just as Jake intended. Satisfied, a cocky smirk hooks the corner of his mouth as he leans back against the cushion. 

You twist your hand up and down the length of  Jake’s cock, admiring every detail that makes him unique. He’s hot to the touch, throbbing against your fingers each time you slow

Josh doesn’t seem to notice the display and writhes against your arms in need of release. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The praise sparks your need aching between your thighs, and you push his cock into your mouth, sinking onto him in a single motion, nudging the tip of his cock as far as it can go. You relax the muscles in steady, deep breaths, opening your throat to push him that much farther. It’s another thing that takes him by surprise, causing his fingers to fly to your hair as he breathes, “Holy shit.”

You hear Jake’s raspy chuckle above you, “I taught her that little trick.”

The new technique combined with the dancing rolls of your tongue to the underside of him sends him over in seconds. His body simply acts out of his control now, causing his hips to buck, the grasp around your hair to tighten, and for him to whine with brimming urgency, “I-I’m gonna cum, baby. Baby—“

He pants your name like a mantra, erupting into the back of your throat through a shaky thrust, emptying on your tongue as you swallow his release down. You lick him up, not wanting to leave a single drop of him until the overstimulation starts to set in. You eventually come to a stopping point, and withdraw him from your mouth to place an open kiss on the cherry tattoo before biting at the soft flesh of his stomach just to feel him squirm. 

While his chest heaves with every ragged breath as he collects himself, you slide away from his lap and slow yourself between Jake’s legs. He sweeps the fallen lock of hair from your cheek and tucks it behind your ear, giving you that recognizable devilish grin he always seems to have with you. 

You continue stroking Jake as he tugs at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, showing your bottom row of teeth while cooing in a silken voice, “That’s a pretty shade on you, dove. What’s this one called?”

Before you answer him, you wrap your painted lips around his thumb, sucking it into your mouth to leave the faint pink ring around the base, pulling away enough to whisper in a heavy breath, “Love Trap.”

He moans at the feeling of your tongue licking across his skin, humming in approval, “Well, that’s fitting.” 

You kiss the shaft of his cock as your fingers work around him, taking the opportunity to tease him before he ultimately takes control. Josh begins to move in his seat and reaches down to guide you up off the floor, repositioning you so that your knee sinks into the cushion with your other foot planted on the floor. You sense him dropping down to his knees behind you, feeling his hands explore the curves of your hips and ass. 

You whine from the proposition and look over your shoulder. “Josh…the present was supposed to be about you.”

He giggles, watching your eyes as he buries his face between your legs so you feel the hot air clinging to your body with each drawn-out exhale. He kisses the fabric covering your core, making you instantly clench around him, before answering in a pleased sigh, “Oh baby, this is the present.”

You guide Jake past your lips just as Josh’s fingers feel the bands of your thong that rest on either side of your hip, pulling at them slightly to release with a teasing snap against your skin. He curls his fingers around them and slowly tugs them down, carefully maneuvering your legs to remove them from your body. 

“Happy Birthday,” he calls out to Jake, slingshotting the lingerie over you for him to catch. You watch from below as he feels the delicate material between his thumbs as if entranced in his world by the garment alone. He then does something you don’t expect by holding them up to his face — burying his nose in the white fabric woven between his fingers — to breathe in your scent. As it fills his head and lungs, his fingers pull at your hair while his eyes flutter closed with a low groan rumbling deep in his chest.

Josh sucks at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs hard enough to bruise the flesh between his teeth, leaving little pink marks of his own while his fingers slip between your folds. You jolt at the feeling of him rubbing with firm pressure against your clit, and moan around Jake as he glides across your flattened tongue.

With one hand bracing your hip, the tip of Josh’s tongue glides through you in a single pass, the taste of you causing him to groan in satisfaction as he hears your muffled whimpers. He always loves to take his time and edge you, but you’re too impatient for that today and back into him, begging him for more.

There’s no denying that focusing on Jake is difficult, but you’re adamant to take the challenge. You use every trick you know, every learned detail that drives him insane. Whereas Josh prefers the drawn-out tease, Jake wants the full show. He wants to see the trails of drool leaking past your swollen lips and the black tears streaming down your face. You give it to him, playing off the sounds he makes in return, gauging how hard his fingers pull at your hair.

Meanwhile, Josh devours you like you’re his last meal on Earth, knowing that he doesn’t have much time with how close Jake seems to be, and abandons his usual method of teasing you for as long as you can stand it. The determined rolls and laps of his tongue across your swollen clit make gag around Jake through a groan, causing a growl to rip through his teeth, “Yeah, dove. Fucking choke on it.”

His hand snakes to the back of your head to push you farther down his cock, the pressure threatening to make your throat spasm around him again. You know Josh heard it from how he suddenly pauses every movement of his tongue, stalling inches from you before pulling away from you. “Jake…”

Jake doesn’t seem to register Josh’s concern, as this is a normal thing between the two of you. He’s falling into his role, emphasizing his point with a tug of your hair as you continue working your mouth around him, “Spit on her. She likes feeling it run down her pussy and thighs.”

You can sense Josh’s apprehension by the way his fingers press into your hips and the whispered curse slipping past his lips. He takes a second to think about it until he eventually obliges by spitting directly onto you, causing you a shudder to roll through you and your toes to curl as his saliva drips down your pussy and thighs — just as Jake had described. 

Josh runs his fingers through the added wetness, mesmerized by your reaction, causing Jake’s ego to run at a high as he croons, “See? I fucking told you, didn’t I?”

You’ve been so turned on throughout the day, that it doesn’t take much for him to take you to the edge of your tipping point. You chase only it by forcing Jake as deep as he can go, impressing him with the skills he’s so clearly proud of you for. He’s fighting it through every drag of his nails across the dark wash denim of his jeans as he curls his fingers over his lap. His chest is tight with every strained breath his lungs push out as he tries to hold out for as long as he can, but there’s no secret he’s closer than you are. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get to the point where you’re no longer concentrating on Jake, but rather on the work of Josh’s tongue licking and tasting you, gagging around his cock again. You pull him from your mouth to catch your breath and compensate with your hand, revealing how desperate you’re becoming when you cry out, “Josh… please don’t stop. I’m so fucking close.” 

Your words must have affected him because seconds after your pathetic plea hits Jake’s ears, he unravels before you without the same warning Josh had managed to give you. The first shot hits your face as a cursed apology leaves his lips, making you flinch before you have the chance to wrap your mouth around him again. You can’t be bothered to care, taking your reward, swallowing him down just as you had done so with Josh.

Josh’s fingers dig into your hips with his determination to make you cum, filling the room with the obscene sounds of his mouth on you. With the final circle drawn over your clit with his pointed tongue, your orgasm comes crashing down, sending you into the unforgiving waves of your pleasure. He rides it out through listless passes from your entrance to your overstimulated clit until your legs begin to shake around him. 

He finishes with a kiss and presses his sweat-covered forehead against your ass as he calms his breathing before sitting fully on the floor to rest the back of his head on the armrest. After taking the time to come down, you stretch out your limbs and stand on your feet, seeing Jake completely spent. You note the beads of sweat that also cover his forehead and brow, how his eyes are staying closed as he licks across his lips, the way his t-shirt is wrinkled beyond belief as his softening cock is between his stomach and the band of his boxers. 

As per usual, Josh is the one to finally break the silence, “I think it’s safe to say that beats getting socks.” Jake even chuckles at the dumb joke, joining in the collective laughter between all three of you. 

Suddenly aware of your disheveled state, you look down at Josh sitting cross-legged at your feet, and ask, “Is my makeup messed up?”

His gaze climbs your mostly naked form before it reaches your face to study the damage. He puts up a weak attempt to hide the smile while brushing his fingers across your outer thigh, admitting with that special glimmer in his eye, “Uh…I think we might have to freshen you up, baby.”

You giggle, wiping your finger beneath your eye to gather the wet mascara that had started to run.“That bad?”

He slowly stands to his feet, pulling you into a close embrace with hands locked around your lower back, and mumbles into your cheek, “Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

Realizing that Jake has no intentions of moving anytime soon, you follow Josh’s lead as he takes you by the hand toward the bathroom. Once you’re in the hallway, he pulls you in closer now that he’s out of earshot from his twin with concern laden in his voice, “Is that how he speaks to you? Do you like that?” You try to think of a well-thought-out response, but expression tells him everything he needs to know, making him shake his head. “I think I learn something new about you every day.”

TAGLIST:

@gretavanbitches @shesawomaninadream @dannyandthekiszkas @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @ageofnations @welightthefire @garbagevanfleet @lvnterninthenight @pennylanefics @writingcold @alexxavicry @jakeyboiiiiiii @doodle417 @richjaaasss @pr41sethemoon @mamalikes-gvf @gretavanflowerpowerrr @joshskittytickler21 @jakekiszkasbabymama @fallonfatality @maddie-van-fleet @sarakay-gvf @josiee-gvf @milkgemini @sammiejane22 @gretavanbear @capturethechaos @welllauragvf @averagemisfit03 @myownparadise96 @givemeyourtots2 @gretavangroove @sammyfuckingkiszka @why-ami-on-here @autopsy-im-ill @objectsinspvce @feilores @josh-iamyour-mama @joshkiszkasbigtoe e @lightmylove-gvf @mydarlingdanny @shutupdevvie @gvfjess @twinszka @busybeingtrash @carlybubs @demonrat444

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday Fandom :) We got a trailer! Some bits in is for our couple not a ton but I am intrigued what S6 will bring. This episode has me grinning the entire time. Just fluffy cuteness the entire time and I was so here for it. Kid talks and amazing moments. Good one. This ep Is comedy gold.

5x17 The Enemy Within.

That theme I talked about last ep is how we start off. How adorable they are when they find each other at the station. Lucy speed walking to catch up to him. Tim with the biggest smile on his face. Like he didn’t just see her in roll call earlier. *heart clutch* Just happy to see his wifey at work. I love the effect this woman has on him. (Another theme in this ep). I just love S5 Tim in general. Happy and light seeing her come up to him. Making his day with her presence. Damnit I love them so much. Lucy starting off with him not hating her LMAO His smile dropping off asking what she’s done? Haha

Be more married you too my goodness. I do love how quickly they fall into step with each other as they speak. Seriously never had a couple with such good physical chemistry without even touching. The flirting here is amazing. We watch Tim not really be mad and fighting back a smile in the second gif. Once again the effect this woman has on him is incredible. She is beyond adorable with her retort of how he should reply. We all know Tim could never hate her. Angry, exasperated or annoyed. Yes ha But never hate.

We find out Lucy was playing the long game for getting back at Tim for something. Clearly before they were together since it was for a Tim Test few months back. He wants to know which one? She can't remember...It was bad enough to make her do this but not enough to remember which test. Oh Lucy. lol Angered her enough to do this then forget she'd done it ha Tim asks once again 'What did she do?' Lucy lets him know she signed him up to be a mentor... For make a dream.... Tim is exasperated af asking when she planned this? Lucy dreads the answer but tells him today….

Lucy goes on that a 12 year old cancer patient named Jordy is on his way. Tim walks away from her and I LOVE her grabbing his arm. Making him stay put. Tries to put a good spin on it. Saying he would be lifting up a sick kid. What could be more important than that? Tim commends her for her answer. Telling her nice job boxing him in. Except he’s not going to let her get away with this. Did she really expect him to do this solo? LOL Sassy Tim has arrived and is throwing back her own words at her. Lucy doesn't have a leg to stand on. Just concedes and joins him. Fantastic start to a hilarious episode for them.

Jordy arrives and Tim and Lucy couldn’t be cuter. The way they look at each other is precious. Also hello height difference I always welcome you to our screen. The way Lucy is looking at Tim while he talks to Jordy. Like she needed another reason to be in love with him. Getting glimpses into Tim as a dad. That instant ovary explosion. Don’t blame her one bit.

Tim couldn’t be cuter saying he heard he wants to be a cop. Jordy doesn’t seem as enthused as Tim and Lucy. Nonetheless Tim looks super cute saying they’re going to take him to processing. Lucy’s fully bodied shimmy is so adorable I cannot. She is very excited to play parents with Tim.

They’re in processing and Lucy is trying to get Jordy to engage. Tim isn’t short on sarcasm in this episode. I’m dying it’s so funny. Telling him to look miserable LMFAO. Lucy’s face. Chiding her husband a little bit. But also realizing how unhappy this kid is. Love her walking up to him and sharing her worries as well. Tim noting he looks like he hates them. Lol Lucy doesn’t disagree….Saying maybe he hates his picture being taken? Or he’s miserable cause he’s tired from being sick?

Tim says they should just move onto the next thing then. They turn around and Jordy is gone. Had this kid for all of 20 minutes and they lost him already LOL This episode is so great. Had me rolling the entire time. I remember seeing a hilarious post after this premiered. Celina dealing with her sisters murder, Angela/Harper/Grey dealing with Elijah. And Tim and Lucy keep losing the same kid LMAO They are the comedic relief in this one for sure.

Lucy is in a legit panic. It’s so funny. Saying she doesn’t know what she’s going to tell the foundation. Full on sarcasm saying she can’t wait to tell them they lost him. LOL Tim is so calm and chill. Saying they didn’t lose him... he’s just misplaced LMFAO. Oh my lord Timothy I’m crying I’m laughing so much. She is being the worried sick parent and he’s being the calm one.

I love them looking for Jordy whilst also talking about their future kids. Getting me all in my damn feels. Tim being so friggin chill about them finding him. Lucy saying when it’s ’OUR’ kids OUR. They’re so casual about it. I’m losing my damn mind. That when it is their kids he better take it seriously. Tim defending their future kids also making me feel things. Saying ‘Our’ kids would never pull a stunt like this.

Look at Lucy’s face when he makes that remark though. She is beaming watching him talk about their future kids. They’re trying to murder me in this ep and I’m very ok with it. I may need to go lie down but I’m ok haha Lucy gets caught up in the thought of them having kids. And is pulled back to the present with Tim’s sassy departure LOL Saying they’re doing great so far. Sarcasm king in this one and I love it so very much. Lucy's face when he leaves too funny.

They run into Aaron and he has Jordy. Lucy looks so relieved. She asks what they talked about? Aaron says he kept asking him what his childhood pet was. Lucy looking confused as hell asks why? We see this kid stumble and get nervous for first time. Saying it’s for a report…Tim's face smelling BS but he isn't sure why. They’re trying figure what to do next. Tim suggests the war room? He doesn’t seem excited…Lucy mentions K-9 unit. Ask if he likes dogs?

Tim is over this kid. Saying what kid doesn’t like dogs? (I mean he’s not wrong…) Lucy scolding him like only she can. Such a wifey scolding too it’s so funny. Tim makes the kid sit while they figure this out. Lucy says maybe the impound lot? This is where Uncle Tim comes in and I love it so much. Talking about his nephews and what they’re into right now. My heart. He seems very confused on what it actually is they like and it’s hysterical. Pop culture never been his strong suit and I love him for it. I'll be honest idk what ghosts on the toilet is either. LOL

Lucy is enjoying his explaining this stuff. Amused really. You can tell she’s cracking up as he goes on. Picturing him with his nephews and loving that mental image. They're so busy flirty they don’t see Jordy take off on them again. They turn around and he’s gone….They lost the kid again LMAO Back to being worried parents. They ask the most clueless guy in the building if he’s seen Jordy? Ha Of course he hasn’t…Nolan is lucky he knows what's going on in his own SL.

They’re in Sally Port looking for Jordy. Legit looking under shops. Don’t hate the shot of Tim in this scene. Hello booty shot. His phone starts going off and he groans as he comes back up and says it’s a Grey. Lucy voices her irrational fear about Grey knowing they lost him twice. I’m rolling. Why would he know that Lucy? LOL Tim’s face is everything to this comment of hers. Loves his panicked wife and her ridiculousness.

Lucy is legit pacing back and forth while Tim is on the phone. Grey is asking him to run an OP for him. The last thing Tim needs on his plate right now. It is sexy how he coordinates it and says he’ll fold in later. Mmm. Then asks Lucy if she’s enjoying her revenge for his Tim Test? Lucy says she isn’t... Does a cute little love tap on his arm and has him follow. I love it.

They find Jordy at a computer. Tim scares him and asks what the hell he’s doing? I love the in-sync head tilts. They see he is googling how to delete traffic tickets. Lucy goes off on a nerd rant about how those are processed in a different office. She catches herself and looks at Tim. He’s so used to her nerdy ways at this point doesn't phase him in the least.

Just backs what she’s saying. That even if he could do that here it’s a crime to do so. Poor kid folds. Says his dad told him to because they couldn’t afford the fines. Tim asks if he really has cancer? Lucy scolds him once again. I love this. He tells them yes that part is true. Lucy asks if he wants to be a cop? He says no they’re wack. Lmao The way the look at each other I cannot. The kid wanted a football game not this. HA

Tim mentions if he’s googling this no way he’s a a hacker. Asks how he gained access to the computer? Jordy hands him the sticky note. Tim is so damn incensed I’m dying. Lucy asking did Smitty really need a sticky note? He couldn’t just remember this? I love the way Tim snatches the note and takes off. He is so very done with this day and this kid. Smitty's incompetence being the icing on the cake of his day. This episode is comedy gold I love it sfm.

They bring Jordy’s father in. Telling him they could charge Jordy with a crime. That he had illegal access to a police computer. The dad starts to panic and says they can’t do that. He’s just a kid. He has cancer. Lucy says no one wants to charge Jordy. Him on the other hand… Mr. Yates starts to freak out more. Saying it was just couple tickets. Lucy mentions it’s 37....

Holy crap dude that’s a lot of tickets. That him using his son. A minor no less to help out makes it a felony. One that could send him to jail. The dad pleads with them. Saying his medical costs are crushing them. That if he doesn’t pay for the tickets he’ll lose his license and car. Saying he knows he messed up. He can’t go to jail his family needs him.

Then we hit one of my favorite portions of this episode. Their silent communication has always been a glorious wonder. It hits new heights in this scene. Because the minute he looks at his girl he knows what that look means. It’s why he answers with a ‘Lucy really?’ He goes from you can’t be serious. To how am I supposed to say no to that? Lucy doesn’t have to say a damn word.

That’s the beauty of their connection. Says everything she needs to in that puppy dog look. Man is whipped and we all love it. Her empathy shining through and getting to Tim in this moment. I said it couple times in this episode. The effect this woman has on him is immense. It was continuously through out this one. In the best way possible.

That man has zero defense against that look she gives him. Absolutely zero. Can you imagine a little version of Lucy doing this to him? If they end up having a daughter. She’s gonna have this man wrapped around her finger. Just like his wife does. God help him haha All Lucy had to do was give him that glance and he was in shambles. As we all know Tim would do anything for that woman standing next to him.

He came into this conversation ready to put that man in jail. But then the love of his life looks his way and it’s over. I’ll never be over how amazing their silent communication is. We are so lucky to have a couple this amazing without even saying a word. There’s that country song ‘You say it best. When you say nothing at all.’ If that ain’t them. Tim folds and says he’s not sending Mr. Yates to jail. I love how he looks at Lucy before he tells him that. Knowing she is the reason behind him is doing this.

It’s so good. Man is so soft for his girl and this scene is proof of that. Ugh I love it. Melissa’s and Eric crushing it per usual. Tim says he can go to Daddy and me Traffic school. There’s an arcade that Jordy will love it. As if Lucy needed another reason to love this man next to her. Mr. Yates asks how he can make it up to them? ‘Be a better father to your son’. Hot damn you tell him Tim.*fans self* Mmm. Yum. Got to be soft but still little authoritative at the end. I’ll take it.

We rejoin them in the station. Tim done with his OP for Grey. Lucy coming over mentioning his how Daddy and me traffic school sounds fun. Tim replying 'Yeah Jordy will get 5 dollars in tokens too.' Lucy letting him know it was a really nice gesture. I love her coming up to him and letting him know this. Making sure he knows what a wonderful thing he did for them. That it was so sweet. This scene makes me squee for so many reasons.

Tim letting her know he wanted to throw that guy in jail. You could tell when he entered that room he was ready to throw down. It wasn't sitting well with him Yates putting his son in a position like that. Lucy replying ‘But?’ Tim bestowing the best compliment he could on her. Touching on the theme of this episode I think. The fact she’s a good influence on him. I mean it exudes out of him now a days. She already was before they got together. Now it’s increased ten fold the effect Lucy has on him.

Lucy and her view of the world. A thing that used to drive him absolutely bonkers. So much so he tried to show her the underbelly of L.A. to dampen it. That same light and view has now rubbed off on this man. Soaking him in that sunshine she gives off. I can’t with how many feels this is giving me. And he’s telling her as such. He’s known for a long long time what a good influence she is. But he’s telling her in person. With heart eyes galore to boot. Such love and admiration on his face for her. *internally screaming*

Naturally he complimented her so she needs to do one right back. Telling him with just as much adoration and affection might I add. That he’s going to be a great dad someday. We know that’s true. Also we know Lucy is already picturing him as that great father to their kiddos. I just love how causally they talk about their future kids. It’s a thing that’s just an eventuality. The level of comfortability around the topic just shows us where they're at. How serious they both are.

Tim needing to tease her now that they’ve been soft. It’s so damn funny. Look at his pleased smile when he does it. Look at that man in the final gif. Could power a city with that smile. He so loves to tease her. Lucy is exasperated with him but still smiling regardless. She loves this infuriating man in front of her so much.

They couldn’t be happier or more adorable. It blows my mind still we get to have them together. Not only that but this level of ship goodness. Straight flirting, complimenting and teasing. They’re so in love I might pass out from all my feelings haha Such a good ep for them.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

I do love Angela getting to be the one to take Elijah out. So fitting. Also that scene with Charlie and Wes holy hell.

Thank you to all you amazing readers. For all the likes, comments and reblogs. We only have 5 left episodes in this season. Unreal. Shall see you all in 5x18 :)