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[myabsolutebeauty]

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[hearts4hughes]

JEALOUS LOVER | CORIOLANUS SNOW

young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: coriolanus battles to control his possessive and jealous nature when seeing you with a friend.

note: i’m aware that coriolanus is such a terrible person, but it doesn’t help that they casted tom blyth (the definition of perfect) as him. i couldn’t fight the urge to write about him and i’m glad i didn’t! hope you enjoy!

warnings: borderline toxic relationship?, jealousy, angst w/ a happy ending, fluff, gets a little steamy towards the end (🙈)

coriolanus watched from a distance, his piercing eyes fixated on your every move. as you engaged in conversation with sejanus, a fleeting smile playing on your lips, a storm brewed in his gaze. his jaw clenched; eyes, once crystal blue, were now dark and stormy.

discomfort envelops him, triggering nausea through his chest; he refuses to be treated like a child. however, the simple act or even the notion of you interacting with another man, fuels a visceral anger: clenched fists, muscles tense, poised to eradicate any man who even looks in your direction.

“you’re so funny, sejanus.” you laughed, your hand lightly grazing his bicep. the action was subconscious. a platonic movement that made no one bat an eyelash.

well, except for coriolanus.

his tongue ran over his teeth as he shook his head, trying to control himself. self-control, he repeated over, and over again in his mind. he’d learn how to control himself at such a young age. to know how to mask any emotion in order to appear professional and calm. but one look at you laughing and touching another male had him forgetting all of his previous lessons.

taking a deep breath, he made his way over to you. his attempt to remain composed was unsuccessful. his fair skin was painted deep shades of red; his breath was heavy with anger; his eyes narrowed as he shot daggers at sejanus.

“hi coryo!” you smiled, taking note of his tense stature. “we were just catching up.” your hand motions towards sejanus who greets him. the blonde nods, not impressed with the whole situation.

self-control.

“well, we better get going.” he stated simply, checking his watch. “it’s getting late and i don’t want y/n and i to walk home in the dark.” he feigned a tightlipped smile. your brows furrowed in confusion. it was nowhere near sunset, what had the boy in such a hurry?

“it was nice to see-” your words were cut short as coriolanus grabbed your arm, pulling you away from sejanus and towards the exit. your head turned between both boys before sending sejanus a pitiful smile to which he returned.

as coriolanus whisked you away, the corridor echoed with the abruptness of his hurried steps. his grip on your arm, firm yet possessive, spoke volumes.

the walk home was practically silent. tension sat in the air weighing down both of your shoulders. your gaze remained fixed on coriolanus’s side profile. meanwhile, his eyes remained focused on the sidewalk, meticulously scrutinizing the cracks and crevices in the concrete as if searching for answers in their patterns.

finally, you broke the grueling silence. “coryo, what’s wrong?” your hand finds its way to his, intertwining your fingers. coriolanus, his gaze momentarily lifting from the sidewalk, met your concerned eyes. the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift slightly. his jaw tightened, but his eyes softened, revealing a vulnerability beneath his anger. “it’s nothing,” he muttered, the words carrying the weight of something untold.

your brows furrowed in gentle concern, “you can talk to me. you know that right?” at this point your walking comes to a halt. your hand raises to brush his platinum curls away from his face. he nods, but he doesn’t dare meet your gaze— too ashamed of his pathetic insecurities. at last, he lets out a huff, caving into the warmth of your touch and the sweetness of your words.

“i just… i didn’t like seeing you with him,” he admitted, his tone laced with vulnerability and possessiveness.

“with sejanus?” you inquired.

“yes!” although he raised his voice, his tone was still hushed— embarrassed even. “seeing you with him today, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm, made me,” he paused to take a deep breath, “it all made me jealous.” your hand found its way to his face, your fingers brushing his cheeks soothingly.

“coryo, there’s no need to be jealous,” you reassured, your voice a gentle melody. “there’s no one else i’d rather be with than you.”

the words, a sweet offering of devotion, seemed to fan the flames within him. a smirk played on his lips, ego swelling with satisfaction as his eyes, once dark and stormy, now took on a smoldering gaze. a subtle shift in his demeanor was evident as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hands trailing dangerously close to your ass. without responding, coriolanus leaned in, his lips capturing yours with hunger.

the kiss was fiery and a desperate need for closeness. his hand slid sensuously along the curves of your waist, fingers tracing a path, as if claiming every inch of you. his lips moved with a skilled urgency, exploring the contours of your mouth. your tongues clashed together in each other’s mouths. the blonde swallowed your moans and whines, trapping them.

as you both reluctantly pulled away from the scorching kiss, a lingering heat hung in the air. a sly smirk played on both of your lips.

“you have no idea what you’re doing to me, y/n.” he said, breathlessly. “and i want you to remember that every inch of you is mine.” you smiled, not quiet realizing the toxicity of your boyfriend’s words. you were blinded by his sweet, pleasing words and his gorgeous face structure to even notice.

the rest of the walk was silent, but the air wasn’t filled with a lingering tension. no, if anything, it was filled with a newfound sense of lust and love.

[bandgie]

stray kids as tattoo artists? I read a fic on AO3 once where Jisung Chan and Felix all owned a tattoo parlour (called Red Lights hehe) and reader worked there and got brought into their OT8 poly relationship and it lives rent free in my brain.

But anyway, what do you think they would be like as tattoo artists? Who would tattoo what body parts? Who would fuck you in the chair, who would give you head/let you suck them off, and who would force themselves to remain professional even though you can see they're hard?

wait I so need the fic if you have it plzzz

MDNI 18+ under the cut

fucking you

lee know - you have such a shy yet aroused look the moment you're in the chair. he'd touch you lightly at first, knuckles bumping against your breasts to clean the skin for the tattoo. your breath would hitch, your eyes would stare into his and you'd bite your lip. all it takes is a little nod from your end and he's undoing his belt

hyunjin - no because he never really does this. he's usually so professional, even with the hungry eyes staring at him, but there's just something so sexy about you. maybe it's the tattoos you already have, slightly faded and in need of a touch up. once he establishes that you are, in fact, wanting him the same way he wants you, he'd go to the front door of his shop and flip the sign to 'closed'

Seungmin - you'd have to beg him for it ngl. you're a regular at his parlor and he just loves how flustered you get. Seungmin doesn't mind teasing you for your session, but you just cant take it anymore. you'd make him move the stencil over and over again just under your boobs because 'its just not right' and you'd offer to take off your shirt so it's easier for him. that's the last straw for him and he'd waste no time in getting you on his cock

oral sex

changbin - he's giving you head, no questions asked. he's shaving the inner part of your thigh and your legs just look so good in shorts. he's gulping, eyes wide and briefly looking at your crotch. you notice though, and you'd gently place your hand over his and push the razor away, opening your legs so he can get a better look. he might panic at first, claiming he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you shush him and grab the back of his head to guide him to your cunt.

han - you're on your tummy, feeling han prep you for a back tattoo. honestly, if he wasn't so nervous he'd fuck you just like that, but you start giving him innocent compliments that lead to you not-so-innocently sitting him on the laid out chair and getting on your knees. he's just so cute whimpering and biting into his hand while his thighs tremble around your face

professional

chan - this honestly shouldn't be a surprise. he takes his job very seriously, and no matter how many times your hand accidentally brushes against his cock or how prettily you bat your eyelashes, he will not do anything out of line. but ofc you can see the strain, and tent in his jeans that must be so uncomfortable. he's got a red blush on his ears, but he's so keen on making sure he's professional throughout the session. maybe you just need to make another appointment

felix - I think he likes knowing that you know he's horny, if that makes sense. it's the yearning that really turns him on, the longing stares, the lip bite he does when his touches linger. even if it makes his cock throb, he just loves teasing you too much to do anything. still, I do think he'd grind his front against your body 'accidentally' and he wouldn't say no if you start palming him while he shaves your arm to clean to area

jeongin - is just nervous. he really isn't sure if you're flirting with him or not. a lot of girls try to do favors in getting out of paying, but you're just so persistent you tip very good after each session. he's thought about taking things a step further, but he really isn't sure how to. if he's doing a chest tattoo, his hand will find purchase on your tit, a small blush on his face saying it helps in keeping him anchored. you don't push him, a sweet smile on your face as you tell him you don't mind, that it feels good. he gulps, cock hardening in his sweats and he prays he doesn't have to stand for a while

not proofread lmao

[notsosweetchan]

Warning: smut (Minors Do Not Interact)

Paring-Hyunjin x reader-

-Dirty Secret (Teacher AU)

Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a blush crawl up his cheeks as he glanced over the chalkboard, taking a deep breath to calm himself before continuing his lecture. His gaze found the wayward one, making sure to maintain eye contact with her.

She gave him an innocent smile, batting her eyelashes as if nothing was out of the ordinary - but he knew better. Her fingers were restlessly toying with her pen, tapping against it in a way that was all too familiar to him now.

It was hard to ignore the nervous energy radiating off of her, and he couldn't help but wonder what mischief she was planning next.

As he droned on about trigonometry, his eyes drifted back towards her again and again, unable to help themselves.

He watched as she playfully bit on her lower lip while furiously scribbling notes down in her notebook; could almost taste the sweet cherry flavor from where he sat.

The sound of chalk scratching against the board was drowned out by the soft rustling of paper as she flipped through pages and scratched away at words in bright pink ink that matched her cherry lip color perfectly.

Even when she furrowed her brows in concentration or chewed on the end of her pencil thoughtfully, there was an undeniable glimmer in those emerald eyes that betrayed any semblance of focus on the subject matter.

Amidst his lecture, a moment came where Hyunjin paused for emphasis; an opening for Y/to strike. "And that," he said grandly, pointing at an equation on the board behind him, "is how you use trigonometry to calculate angles."

The room full of students went silent for a moment before bursting into chatter once more, but Y/N's heart leaped at the pause in Hyunjin's lecture, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. She had been waiting for this moment.

She glanced up at him from under her lashes, feeling her stomach do flips as their eyes locked. He looked so handsome standing there, chalk dusting his suit but still managing to look put together and professional.

She couldn't help but compare him to the mess she was in; her hair was probably a wild nest on top of her head, strands escaping every which way after the impromptu make-out session earlier. Her cheeks were still flushed pink and her lips felt swollen from their kisses.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, breaking their gaze. Y/N took the opportunity to quickly scribble down some notes before looking back up at him, hoping he wouldn't catch on to her thoughts. The anticipation was killing her as he continued speaking, his voice low yet commanding in the quiet classroom.

His hands moved gracefully on the chalkboard as he drew triangles and circles, their soft scratching sound filling the air like music to her ears. She found herself tracing along with his movements, wishing she could feel the chalk between her fingers instead of just imagining it.

Suddenly, he wrote down an equation that she knew she wouldn't be able to solve alone - not without some guidance from him anyway - and she raised her hand hesitantly.

The sound of chalk on board stopped abruptly as he turned to face her, those deep brown eyes boring into hers. "Yes?" He asked softly. Y/N took a deep breath and shot him a shy smile before pointing at the board. "I don't quite understand this part," she admitted with a small laugh,

"Oh really?" Hyunjin smirked, walking over to her desk with a swish of his pants and a soft clearing of his throat. He leaned down over her shoulder, his breath tickling her neck as he peered over her shoulder at the board.

The warmth of his body against hers sent shivers down her spine, making it harder for her to concentrate on the equation. "Let me show you," he murmured softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils and made him dizzy with desire. His fingers traced the lines of the equation slowly, explaining it to her in a low voice that only she could hear.

As he went on, he couldn't help but brush against her knuckles or graze the inside of her wrist with his thumb in the guise of pointing things out.

His heart raced just as fast as hers did when their skin touched, sending electric currents shooting up his arm and down hers.

She gasped softly as he lifted his hand away from her skin, their connection broken only by the thin air between them.

Hyunjin chuckled lightly and stepped back, holding himself upright again while continuing to explain the lesson around them.

The rest of the classroom fell silent once more; every eye on them as they watched this exchange – some with envy, others with confusion - but none daring to interrupt them again.

Y/N felt herself blush deeper under their stares but couldn't bring herself to look away from him; those eyes held hers captive like no other could.

Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a wave of satisfaction wash over him as he saw the understanding dawn on her face.

He smiled gently at her, noticing the way her cherry-flavored breaths quickened as he leaned down to whisper the explanation into her ear. The softness of her skin beneath his fingertips sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of the allure and the temptation that lingered between them.

"Of course," he said, stepping back with a smirk on his lips. "Just remember this formula. It's important," he added as an afterthought before glancing around the room once more to make sure everyone was focused again.

The students in the back row whispered among themselves while giggling softly, their eyes flickering between Y/N's flushed cheeks and Hyunjin's satisfied smirk.

His words echoed through the classroom, causing butterflies in Y/N's stomach as she tried to concentrate on what he was saying instead of how close he had been to her just moments before.

As Hyunjin continued his lecture, moving around the room to assist other students who raised their hands, Y/N found herself lost in thought– dreams swirling through her mind along with images of those captivating brown eyes and that gentle touch from earlier.

She couldn't shake off the feeling of anticipation for when class would finally end so they could be alone again. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her desk while she scribbled down notes faster than usual, eager for that moment to come soon enough.

The hour flew by quickly, ending far too soon for both their tastes "Alright class," Hyunjin said, clapping his hands together to gather the students' attention.

“That's all for today. Remember to study hard and ask me or any teaching assistant if you have any questions." The students packed their bags and chatted quietly before leaving the room, but Y/N remained in her seat.

She watched as Hyunjin tidied up the classroom, erasing the equations from the chalkboard with practiced efficiency. “ Don’t you think you were being a bit obvious back there?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he turned to face her.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his comment, realizing that perhaps she had been a bit too transparent in her feelings towards him. She mustered up her courage and rose from her seat, gathering her things as she walked towards him.

Maybe a little,she admitted with a shy smile, feeling a rush of boldness surge through her. “But can you blame me? You make trigonometry almost bearable.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Hyunjin heard her loud and clear. He chuckled softly, the sound sending pleasant shivers down Y/N’s spine.

“Well, I suppose I can forgive you for that,” he teased, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made her heart flutter. “But you better be careful.

People might start putting two and two together and realizing there's more to our teacher and student dynamic than meets the eye.” His voice lowered, and he took a step closer, his gaze intense as he continued, “Unless... of course, you want them to know.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, each word he spoke adding fuel to the fire that burned inside her. Y/N felt her breath hitch at his insinuation, her mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen if they crossed that line.

She met his gaze head-on, a mixture of desire and apprehension swirling in her eyes.

“Maybe I do want them to know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the empty classroom.

The confession hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Hyunjin's expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before he took another step closer, closing the distance between them.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips as he leaned in, leaving no room for doubt in his intentions.

The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with desire as they stood inches apart. Y/N's heart raced in her chest, her breath hitching at the proximity of Hyunjin's lips to hers. Every fiber of her being yearned for his touch, for the forbidden thrill of crossing that line with her teacher.

Without another word, Hyunjin closed the final gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that sent a shockwave of electricity through her body. Y/N melted into his embrace, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as she deepened the kiss, matching his fervor with her own.

Y/N moaned softly against his lips, feeling the warmth of his mouth against hers. Her body trembled slightly, and she gripped the fabric of his shirt as a deep longing coursed through her veins. As their kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still.

Their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths in a way that felt illicit but oh-so-right. Breath mingled with the chalky scent of the classroom, creating an aroma unique to this moment.

Her heart raced wildly as his hands found their way to her waist before slinking upwards to cup her breast through her shirt. She gasped into his mouth, feeling his touch send shockwaves of pleasure down her spine.

Hyunjin couldn't help but let out a low groan, losing himself in the moment. He admired how she bit her lower lip teasingly, matching his boldness with her own growing confidence. He nipped at it playfully before trailing kisses down her neck and collarbone.

The sound of buttons popping loose echoed in the empty room as he undid them one by one until he could finally touch bare skin. His lips trailed lower, finding cherry-flavored sweetness with every new inch he explored.

His hands moved up her thighs Y/N's core clenched at his touch, and she gasped softly, her body begging for more. His hands slid up her skirt, finding the elastic of her panties, and she whimpered into his mouth.

It was intoxicating to be desired like this; to feel his fingers against her skin made her head spin. He pulled away from their kiss picking her up and placing her on his desk with a smirk, leaving her legs dangling over the edge.

Hyunjin kneeled between them and slowly pulled down her panties, revealing her wetness to him. His eyes widened at the sight before him, and he couldn't help but groan in frustration.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. Y/N smiled, tilting her head back as she felt him gently kiss her inner thigh, making his way closer to her core.

Her breathing became shallower, anticipation building inside her as she waited for what was to come. Hyunjin slowly licked her wetness, tasting her for the first time.

Y/N moaned softly, Arching her back slightly as he pleasured her with his tongue. Each lick, each suction, was sending waves of pleasure through her body, making her heart pound in her chest.

Hyunjin's soft touch sent shivers down Y/N's spine as his tongue found her folds, exploring her in a way that made her toes curl.

His fingers danced softly across her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her. She gasped and arched into his touch, her back bowing off the desk as he teased her. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice trembling with desire.

His lips parted and he took her entrance between his lips, sucking gently as he buried his face in her wet heat. Y/N cried out softly, her hands fisting in his hair as her hips bucked in rhythm to his skilled tongue.

He loved the sound of her moans, the way her body responded to his touch, and he knew that he wanted more. He wanted to feel her beneath him, inside her, to make her scream his name in pleasure.

Y/N's climax was building within her, her entire body tensing as her orgasm approached. She could feel it pulsing through her, making her heart race and her breath come in gasps.

Her body was shaking, on the verge of collapsing in a wave of pleasure that she knew would leave her weak and vulnerable. She knew that she had to release it, to let go and surrender to the sensation that was building within her.

Hyunjin could sense it too, the way her body was trembling and the soft whimpers that escaped her lips. He gently sucked on her clit, feeling the pulsing throb of her desire as she came, milking it softly.

Y/N's cries of pleasure echoed through the empty classroom, each one making him harder. Hyunjin looked up at her in ecstasy, his own arousal evident as he admired her flushed face and trembling body.

He pulled his lips away from her core, and she whimpered in protest. "Shh," he whispered soothingly, pushing himself up from the desk and removing his tie and loosening his belt.

"I want to feel you wrapped around me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Y/N could barely breathe as she watched him unbutton his shirt, her breaths coming in short, needy gasps.

Her eyes locked onto the bulge that pressed against his pants, and she knew they wouldn't be the only ones coming undone tonight.

Hyunjin stepped closer to her, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body. Y/N watched him, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for what was to come.

He stood between her legs, guiding himself inside her slowly, slowly until he was fully buried within her. She gasped, her head falling back as he filled her completely.

"You feel so good," he groaned, holding back the urge to thrust hard into her. He wanted to savor this moment, to feel her tight warmth surrounding him.

Y/N wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, and he began to move slowly, steadily at first, building up a rhythm. His hips rocked into her, and she moaned softly, her body adjusting to his.

Y/N's eyes locked onto his, and she could see the raw desire in them. They were both lost in this moment, in each other. Hyunjin's gaze never left hers as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and more forceful.

Y/N's breath hitched with each powerful stroke, her body responding to his with a fiery need that surprised her. She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his back as he moved inside her.

Hyunjin's eyes never left hers, a mixture of lust and adoration reflected in their depths. “Hyunjin , please…” the breathless plea was all he needed. He increased the tempo, his body slamming into hers with a raw intensity that had her crying out in pleasure.

Her head thrashed from side to side, her lips parted in a silent scream as his hips moved faster, harder. He could feel his own release building, the tension within him coiling tighter with each thrust.

"I'm gonna come," he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. Y/N's eyes squeezed shut, her body convulsing with the same need.

Hyunjin grunted, slamming into her one last time before releasing himself, emptying himself inside her.

As his release spilled into her, Y/N felt a wave of pleasure wash over her, her body bucking against his one last time before collapsing back onto the desk.

She gasped for air, her heart pounding in her chest, her body still shaking from the intensity of the experience.Hyunjin's breath hitched as he struggled to catch his own breath,panting, his body still trembling from the release.

He gently pulled out of her, and she whimpered softly, feeling the emptiness left by his absence. He carefully lowered her back to the ground, his hands lingering on her skin for a moment longer before he cupped her face and brought his lips to hers.

Their tongues danced and twined together, their passion and satisfaction mingled in one last kiss.

Y/N broke away, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked up at him. "Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled at her, his eyes soft and full of love. "I know, Y/N." He replied, his voice filled with the same emotion. "I know."

[melancholyhigh]

WORK HOURS.

ft. re2!rookie!leon x lieutenant!reader

synopsis. you were supposed to help leon out on his first time on the job. instead, you’re helping him out in a different way.

content. smut. 1.2k words. car sex, cowgirl, unprotected p in v, dry humping, sub leon, marking, they’re both so desperate for each other, creampie, pet names, praise kink, virginity loss.

note. man, fuck tumblr. i accidentally posted the unfinished draft n didn't realise :( anyways, i hope you guys like it <3

check out my other works. comments & reblogs are appreciated !!

it was leon’s first week on the job, and you were assigned to show him around since he wasn’t well acquainted with raccoon city. boss thought it would be a great idea to take him on patrol to get him adjusted to the area. 

you were excited that a new recruit was joining. it didn’t happen too often, and you knew it was difficult being a rookie — you were in the same position when you had originally joined the RPD. so when you meet him, you plan on being a great lieutenant and helping him where necessary.

your first impression of leon was that he was sweet and a bit naive. he was also rather gorgeous. God certainly had favourites. you couldn’t help but stare at him, and he noticed. a pink blush blooming on his cheeks when he caught you gazing at him. the flushed look made him even more captivating as you secretly wished that the blush on his face would be for different reasons. 

you felt guilty for having such thoughts about him. you are his boss, for Christ’s sake. you have to assist him with his duties, not get in his pants. 

but how could you not think about him like that? the way he got flustered when your hands brushed up against his or the shy glances he took of you throughout the day as you showed him the workings of the place.

this constant build-up of teasing had been why the fine line between being work professional and fucking the shit out of him had been blurred. leaving you in the predicament you are in right now.

the glass windows are foggy as you and leon sloppily make out in the reclined passenger seat of the police car. you’re hovering over him, legs on either side of his thighs. your pants are off and somewhere near the driver’s seat. you’re too preoccupied with the soft whines that leave leon’s parted lips as you place opened-mouth kisses down the column of his throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. 

this isn’t what you had planned for the night. you and leon should've been patrolling the streets, searching for criminals, not dry-humping in a car in some shitty parking lot. 

but, fuck, the whimpers that he makes when he eagerly grips your hips with his big, soft hands and guides your clothed pussy against the bulge of his uniform pants have you overlooking your responsibilities for the rest of the night. 

“feel so good,” he groans quietly into your ear as you continue sucking marks on his neck. you pull back to admire your work. his lips, swollen from your passionate kissing, the buttons of his cotton shirt undone, exposing the expanse of his chest littered with reddish-purple marks. you want the sight seared into your brain.

he peers up through his eyelashes, eyes all glossy, and his face flushed with that same fucking blush you adore. he’s bucking his hips up to yours, pants stained with your arousal, leaking through your underwear and his arms circle your waist. 

“shit, i wanna feel you inside of me, honey,” you say breathlessly and leon nearly comes in his pants at the thought of feeling your cunt squeezing him tight. 

you’re leaning against the dashboard, clumsily unbuckling his belt before half haphazardly throwing it to the side. unzipping leon’s pants, you pull his cock out of his boxers. it’s flushed and red, especially at the tip, which leaked with precum. everything about him was pretty. 

you grasp his shaft, slowly stroking him. his face nuzzled against the crook of your neck. your warm hands moving up and down his rigid cock provided enough friction for him to make a mess all over your palms. you realised he was holding out for you, smiling you kissed the top of his head.

“you’re such a good boy, leon,” you said softly. 

at your words, you felt his hips jerk up into your hands. moans escaped his lips as he bit into your neck trying to contain them.

he whimpers your name, panting into the crook of your neck.

“need you so bad,” he sobs, tears swimming in his beautiful blue eyes. his cock pulsing and neglected when you pull your hands away from him. 

“fuck, okay, sweetheart,” you muttered. leon leans back into the reclined seat, his hands on your hips. his chest moving up and down with every breath he takes.

you push your damp panties to the side, exposing your dripping cunt, you grind onto leon’s cock, groaning when the bulbous head of his cock nicks your sensitive clit. leon gasps at the feeling of your warm, bare pussy up against him. he wouldn’t last that long inside of you.

his cock finally enters your cunt. barely the tip is in, and you both groan in unison. your nails dig into his shoulders for support as you continue to sink down into him. 

you feel each vein and ridge of his cock when he bottomed out in you. you moaned loudly. you were filled to the brim with him. 

leon’s chest heaves as he feels your warm, gummy walls swallow his cock. he wanted so badly to fuck into you, but he wanted to be good. 

“you’re amazing, sweetheart.” you huff out. “‘m gonna start moving, ‘kay?” 

he acknowledges your words by squeezing your hips, unable to trust his voice. 

you start bouncing on his cock, and all he manages are choked whines and whimpers that leave his pink, lips. he starts bucking his hips up to you, and you’re moaning when he reaches the spots you thought were imaginable. 

the obscene squelching sounds of your drenched cunt being pounded into by leon fills the car alongside his and your desperate moans. it’s insane how wet he makes you. 

“you hear that, baby? that’s how good you’re making me feel,” you say with a shaky voice. 

your words make his tummy tense. he holds you closer, his hips stuttering before he gets into a rhythm again. he’s close to coming. 

“‘m close,” he whimpers, and your pussy tightens around him at the sound of his broken voice.

his bangs are sticking to his forehead from the sweat that accumulated. he looks even more beautiful fucked out like this.

“come with me, baby,” you breathed. you brought one of your hands to your clit, rubbing tight circles. 

nearing your orgasm, you press your lips to his, pushing your tongue into his mouth. the intimate moment has both of you coming. 

leon’s legs are shaking as he comes inside your pussy. he moans into your mouth, feeling your cunt spasming around his cock when you climax. his hips came to a halt, and you feel his sticky cum ooze out of your sensitive pussy. 

you’re both breathless, and he’s still holding onto you like his life depends on it.

“you did so well, leon,” you mumble, moving the bangs from his forehead, giving him a kiss. leon heart skips a beat. you treat him so good.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ the patient in 206 ♡

♡ Pairing: patient!mingi x curvy!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You always keep it professional at work but, when an attractive new patient begins to push the boundaries, you find it difficult to resist his charm.

♡ Genre: fluff/suggestive

♡ Word Count: 1.8k

♡ Warnings: reader’s short so there’s references to how tiny she is, mingi puts his face in your boobs nonsexually. they're just comfy for him, mention of blood/anesthesia

♡ A/N: This is based on an idea @urlacuna threw into my asks. I hope I did a good job interpreting what you wanted into a fic!

Red licorice, if you eat enough of it, does a hell of a job mimicking internal bleeding. That’s why the patient in 202 is here today for a colonoscopy. Just to make sure. You know this because the husband of a patient is draped over the nurse’s station while you’re doing charts, huffing and puffing because he has to be here instead of presumably lounging on a couch wiping flaky orange Cheeto dust on the arm of his recliner. This is about as sexy as a job in nursing gets but it’s what pays the bills so you listen, partially anyway, fighting off the urge to throw what’s left of your watered down iced coffee onto his face. 

“Sir,” your coworker interrupts, her lack of patience for his bullshit obvious from the start, “Your wife’s asking for you. If you’ll go in and see her…” Before she can finish her sentence he’s stomping off, mumbling something to himself. She’s your favorite coworker for a reason. She takes a seat on your desk like you’re not in the middle of something. “I’d rather get two colonoscopies with no anesthesia than be married to that asshole,” she says louder than she should. You bury your face in your hands, muffled laughter escaping the spaces between your fingers, “You can’t say that!” 

She crosses her legs, thumbing through a patient’s file, “Like you weren’t thinking it. Anyway, I need you to take a patient for me.” “I’m already assigned room 205,” “Now you’re not” she declares, opening the folder to face you, the face sheet glowing like an ancient text in an adventure film. You see the name Song Min Gi. The picture, oh, the picture. “Remember him?” she asks. Remember? How couldn’t you? You’d been thinking of him ever since he came in last week. Not that you’d tell her that. Not that you need to. It’s painted all over your face the same way it was when you first saw him. 

Mingi came in with his best friend, Yunho you’re pretty sure his name was, to drop off some paperwork for his endoscopy. The other nurses swarmed the desk like moths to a flame, a sea of fluttering eyelashes and girlish laughter. It wasn’t often…or ever…that two tall handsome men sauntered into your job. And they weren’t just gorgeous. They were complete gentlemen, taking time to ask each of you about your day and making cute little jokes that eased some of the tension of such a high stress job.

As attractive as they both were, it was Mingi who had you wrapped around his finger from the moment he walked in. “We could climb him…” your mind whispered. The smile on his face whispered back that he might let you if you asked. “The little one” Mingi had called you, a suitable nickname with you being the shortest nurse on staff. 

“I like you, little one.” 

“Thank you, little one.” 

“See you soon, little one.”

The timbre of his voice echoed through your chest, the aftershock still felt when you returned home that night. You’d thought of him often since then, hoping that you’d see him again. You’d even peeked at when his endoscopy was scheduled for, excited to find out that you’d be on that day. Today. But you’d forgotten. Yesterday had been so chaotic that you rushed in this morning barely knowing which planet you were on, let alone the day.

Hair a mess. Makeup nowhere to be found. Mismatched socks on. At least your sneakers were on the right feet. You slam the folder closed, “I can’t. Look at me!” “Oh, stop it” your coworker shushes, brushing your hair back, “You look beautiful. Now go! 205 needs me and Mr. Song Min Gi needs you. Go, go, go!” She has you up from your chair, rushing you off with his file in your arms, quicker than you can register what’s happening. “Have fun!” she teases, shoving you into room 206 where Mingi lounges in the bed, his long legs stretched out.

He’s already loopy, you can tell by his low eyes and the blissful smile on his face. Yunho stands beside him, deep in conversation about something that becomes irrelevant when they see you. Mingi sits up, recklessly shifting his arms as if he doesn’t have an IV jabbed into one of them, “Little one!” “Oh my god, be careful” you gasp, scurrying to his side before he accidentally rips the IV from his arm. “So, are you my nurse now or did you just come to see me?” Both. The answer is ‘both’.

You dodge the question, “It looks like she got you all set up for me so let me just go check with the doctor and see if they’re ready to take you back. In the meantime, don’t injure yourself please.” Mingi winks at you, “Anything for you.” “You’re disgusting you know that?” Yunho groans, rolling his eyes, “Sorry about him. It’s the anesthesia kicking in.” You assure Yunho that it’s fine, slipping back out of the room under the watchful eye of Mingi who waves at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. When you return a few minutes later he’s already out cold.

“Be careful with him” Yunho warns, “He might try to, uh, force himself to wake up.” You aren’t worried. You’ve dealt with it before. Patients try to fight it off all the time. Eventually, they all succumb to it though. Even on the off chance that they do wake up the anesthesiologist has them drifting back off to dreamland in a millisecond. It’s almost annoying how cute Mingi manages to be, worthy of a full page spread in a magazine even in those dreadful blue tissue paper clothes they make patients wear.

Rolling him to a room not too far down the hall, you hand him over to the doctor and get back to your other duties. Checking on other patients, making sure they have their discharge papers, and shoveling some lunch into your mouth in between. You’re hiding in the office kitchen, cheeks packed with food and another fork full coming your way, when another nurse rushes in to grab you. “Y/N, room 206! He’s out of his mind!” You check your watch. Mingi? He should be out but he shouldn’t be awake yet.

No questions asked you race behind her to find his room full of nurses. Mingi’s up bouncing on the balls of his bare feet and…rapping? Your closest friend there, the matchmaker herself, scurries over to you, ushering you closer to Mingi. “We’ve been trying to get him to lay down but he won’t do it because he wants, uh, well…” “My wife!” Mingi shouts gleefully, long arms embracing you. His chin rests on the top of your head as the two of you sway back and forth. “Isn’t she cute?” he coos, petting your hair, “Mmm and she smells nice.” You pat him on the back, a mother soothing her agitated baby,

“You guys can head out. I’ve got him.” The room empties out except for Yunho who helps you seat Mingi safely on the edge of the bed, his arms still around you. Mingi sighs, resting his head on your chest, “Soft. Mmm. So soft.” He nuzzles his cheeks against your breasts and Yunho nearly chokes on air. “I’m so sorry. Mingi, stop it!” Mingi groans, shooing his best friend away, “We’re married. I can do what I want. Right, baby?” He looks up at you, his brown eyes are angelic under the fluorescent light, and you can’t bring yourself to disrupt his delusion.

“Right, you can do what you want but can you do something for me?” “Anything” he sighs, his nose buried in your cleavage as his hands traverse your curves. “Let’s lay down, okay? I’m a little tired.” You fake a yawn and he nods, easing you onto the bed with him. His face still in your chest, Mingi goes on telling you how much he loves you. He smiles at memories of how nice your honeymoon was. “It was nice, wasn’t it?” “The best.” This was far from what you expected coming in to work today but, in the back of your mind, you’re enjoying the affection, even if it is medically induced.

After a few minutes, Mingi drifts back off to sleep, giving you the chance to sneak away. The rest of the day goes on as normally as it can after something like that has happened. It’s not like you can tell anyone. You should just forget it. Maybe Mingi will. Yunho better let him. When you get the news that Mingi’s awake for a second time you beg another nurse to take him. You don’t even want to think about what might happen if he does remember and you’d rather not find out. 

Thankfully she takes over, allowing you to finish out your shift uneventfully. “See you tomorrow!” you shout over your shoulder, waving to your coworkers as they filter out behind you. You turn to check that the coast is clear before crossing the parking lot only to slam face first into a brick wall. You stumble backward, and strong hands grip your arms keeping you on your feet. A brick wall? Not a brick wall. Mingi’s chest. It’s your turn to look up at him now, his cheeks are tinted a strawberry red. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry…” 

“No, I’m sorry…for a lot of things apparently.” 

You glance behind him and see Yunho leaning against a car nearby. You wave to each other, the context of Mingi’s apology clear. “Look, I…” “Don’t worry about it. It happens.” Mingi narrows his eyes at you, skeptical of how often this actually happens. “Okay, it doesn’t happen” you relent, “But it’s really okay. I swear.” “I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m such an idiot. Clearly, that date I was gonna ask you on is out of the window.” “Date?” you shriek, clearing your throat to regain your composure, “I mean, date? You were gonna ask me on a date?” Mingi hangs his head, hands in his pockets, unable to meet your gaze. “I was but it’d be kinda weird now, wouldn’t it?” You stand up straight, arms folded across your chest, “Well you’ve gotta ask to know, don’t you?” “Oh, uh, does that mean that you’d…would you…date…with me?” “When?” “Now?” “Now?” “No?” “Fine. Let’s go. My car” you demand, strutting to your car with some newfound boldness overtaking you.

You aren’t sure if he’s even following you until you spot him out of the corner of your eye. Clutching your purse close to your chest you try to suppress how giddy you are then the panic sets in. A date? Looking like this? Unlocking the door, you throw your purse into the backseat, “I should probably go home and change into something cuter.” “Cuter?” Mingi asks, holding the door open for you, “You’re cute enough. Plus, you don’t have to impress me anymore. We’re married, remember?”

[elryuse]

May I request Subby Yandere Karina? The reader never realizes how obsessed and manipulative she is until everything is too late?

Caught In The Spider's Trap

Yandere Sub Karina X Male Reader

Y/n had always admired Karina from afar. As a backup dancer for Aespa, the pressure was immense, but watching her flawless movements and electrifying stage presence always calmed his nerves. Her fiery crimson hair, a stark contrast to her icy stage persona, held a magnetism that drew him in.

Their initial interactions were professional, respectful exchanges during practice sessions. But what started as a simple admiration blossomed into a sweet, unspoken feeling. Shared smiles across the practice room, lingering touches during dance routines - a silent language bloomed between them.

One rainy afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/n found Karina slumped over, clutching her stomach. Concern flooded him. "Karina, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

She looked up, her eyes glazed over with a convincing hint of pain. "Just a terrible stomachache," she mumbled, clutching her abdomen tighter.

Without hesitation, Y/n offered to take her home. The drive was filled with stolen glances and comfortable silence. As they reached her apartment, a shy smile played on her lips. "Thanks for taking care of me, Y/n. You're a lifesaver."

He felt a warmth spread through him. "No problem, Karina. Just glad you're feeling better."

The following days were a subtle shift in their relationship. Karina would linger closer during practice, brushing her hand against his during routines. Late-night texts inquiring about his day became a routine, her messages filled with emojis that sent his heart fluttering.

One evening, after a particularly long practice session, Y/n caught Karina staring at him with a melancholic intensity. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

She sighed, her gaze dropping to her lap. "It's just... I feel like I'm always second best. Winter's the leader, Giselle has the rap, and Seulgi… well, Seulgi's Seulgi," she mumbled, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Y/n placed a hand on hers, offering comfort. "That's not true, Karina. You're the heart of the group, your vocals are phenomenal."

She looked into his eyes, a spark of something deeper igniting within them. "Do you really think so?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

He leaned in, his face inches away from hers. "I know so," he murmured, the space between them charged with unspoken emotions.

Before he could close the gap, a loud laugh shattered the moment. Winter, their leader, stood at the studio door, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "Caught you red-handed, lovebirds!" she teased.

Karina recoiled as if burned, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Winter! We weren't doing anything!" she stammered.

The moment was broken, the shy flirtation replaced by a nervous blush. Y/n, his heart pounding, retreated, unsure of what had almost happened.

The incident, however, triggered a change within Karina. Her admiration for Y/n morphed into a possessive need. She craved his constant attention, his every glance. Her attempts to sabotage group activities whenever he interacted with Winter or Giselle became increasingly subtle.

One day, as the group practiced their latest choreography, Karina "accidentally" tripped, landing right in Y/n's arms. The fall was convincing, her pained expression so realistic even Winter didn't suspect a thing.

The incident earned her a day off practice "to recover." While the others toiled in the studio, Y/n found himself at her apartment, tending to a "sprained ankle" that didn't seem to impede her ability to walk around him in skimpy pajamas.

She batted her eyelashes innocently, the scent of lavender oil filling the air. "Stay with me a little longer, Y/n," she purred, her voice dripping with a sweetness that sent shivers down his spine. He felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving her alone, especially since she seemed genuinely hurt.

As days turned into weeks, the pattern continued. Karina perfected the art of the "convenient" injury or sudden illness, securing Y/n's undivided attention. He found himself spending more time at her apartment than his own, a prisoner of her manipulative charm.

One evening, as they snuggled on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background, Karina reached for his hand, her touch lingering longer than usual. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you ever feel like we're meant to be more than just friends?"

He looked into her eyes, the familiar sparkle now replaced by an unsettling intensity. A knot of worry tightened in his stomach. "Karina, we…" he stammered, unsure how to articulate the growing unease he felt.

Before he could finish his sentence, she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine, Karina finished, her voice a husky murmur. The innocent facade she'd so meticulously crafted crumbled, replaced by a raw hunger that made Y/n flinch. He'd seen glimpses of this possessiveness before, fleeting moments brushed aside as fatigue or performance anxiety. This, however, was different. This was a predator sizing up its prey.

He tried to pull away, but her grip tightened on his hand, her crimson nails digging into his skin. "Don't you see, Y/n?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "We're perfect for each other. We have this connection, something the others don't understand."

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn't the sweet affection he'd grown accustomed to, but a twisted, possessive love that reeked of desperation. He stammered, "Karina, I… this is too fast. We need to talk about this."

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Her lips met his in a searing kiss, a desperate attempt to claim him as her own. Y/n, caught off guard by the sudden shift, found himself responding instinctively. However, beneath the heat of the kiss, a cold dread coiled in his stomach.

He pulled back, gasping for breath. "Karina, this isn't right. We can't just…"

She cut him off, her eyes blazing with a feverish intensity. "Why not? You care about me, don't you? You worry about me, spend all your time with me." Her voice cracked, a hint of vulnerability peeking through the facade. "We have something special, Y/n. Don't you feel it?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, laced with an underlying threat. Y/n felt trapped, caught in the web of her twisted affection. He cared for Karina, yes, but not in the way she craved. There was a line she'd crossed, a line that blurred friendship with an unhealthy obsession.

He tried to reason with her, to explain the boundaries she was violating. But his words were met with tears, accusations, and a chilling display of possessiveness that left him speechless. Her manic behavior was a stark contrast to the playful, bubbly Karina he thought he knew.

The more he resisted, the more desperate she became. Her "accidents" escalated, turning from minor injuries to elaborate schemes that ensured his constant presence. Her apartment became a gilded cage, filled with lavender oil, her favorite scent, a constant reminder of the suffocating grip she held over him.

One night, as Y/n lay awake, staring at the flickering neon lights outside her window, a sense of dread gnawed at him. He had to escape. He couldn't live like this anymore, a prisoner in her delusional world.

He formulated a plan, a desperate attempt to break free. He feigned enthusiasm for a weekend getaway with friends, a lie that felt like swallowing sand. Karina, predictably, protested, her voice thick with suspicion. But Y/n held firm, insisting he needed a break.

The weekend was a blur of nervous glances and guarded conversations. The weight of Karina's expectations hung heavy over him, a storm cloud threatening to burst. As Sunday night approached, dread clawed at his throat. He knew returning to her apartment meant surrendering to a life of manipulation and control.

Back at her apartment, the air crackled with tension. Karina's smile was strained, her eyes glinting with a dangerous possessiveness. "You had fun, I hope?" she asked, her voice laced with venom.

Y/n forced a smile, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. "Yeah, it was good. Relaxing."

The following days were a descent into paranoia. Karina monitored his every move, his phone calls, his texts. She'd lash out at any mention of Winter or Giselle, accusing them of trying to steal him away.

Then, came the final blow. Y/n received a text from an unknown number, a single picture attached. It was a photo of him and Winter, laughing during the weekend trip, clearly taken from afar with a zoom lens.

Karina's face contorted into a mask of rage when he showed her the picture. "Who sent this?" she snarled, her voice trembling with fury.

Y/n shrugged, feeling a pang of fear twist in his gut. "I don't know."

But she didn't believe him. The accusation hung heavy in the air, a poisonous seed blooming into a monstrous paranoia. She became withdrawn, locking herself in her room for hours on end. When she emerged, her eyes held a glint of manic determination.

One evening, as they sat in silence, Karina reached into her bag and pulled out a small, sleek phone. "Look what I found," she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

Y/n's heart plummeted. It was his phone – the one he'd claimed to lose a few days prior after a clumsy "accident" staged by Karina. Panic clawed at his throat as he realized she must have used the downtime to meticulously go through it.

"How-" he stammered, but the question died in his throat.

Karina's smile was a predator's, devoid of warmth. "Don't worry, darling," she purred, her voice laced with a chilling sweetness. "I just wanted to see what you were hiding from me."

She scrolled through his messages, her eyes narrowing with every playful text from Winter or friendly exchange with Giselle. Y/n felt paralyzed, exposed, as she unearthed every innocent interaction he'd had with the other members.

"So, these are the girls who 'stole' your attention, huh?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "These are the ones who 'threatened' our connection."

Y/n tried to explain, to plead that it was all just harmless friendship, but Karina cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Friendship? Don't insult me, Y/n. I know what I saw."

Suddenly, her demeanor shifted. The anger melted away, replaced by a cloying sweetness as she reached out and stroked his cheek. "But don't worry, my love. We can fix this."

The way she said "love" sent shivers down Y/n's spine. It wasn't affection, but a possessive claim that made him feel like a prized possession. He knew then that escape wouldn't be easy.

The following days were a chilling display of control. Karina used the information gleaned from his phone to isolate him further. He was forbidden to see the other members, his phone confiscated, and his movements monitored like a hawk.

The cheerful, bubbly idol he'd once admired was gone, replaced by a woman consumed by a twisted possessiveness. She showered him with affection, but it felt suffocating, a gilded cage closing in around him.

One night, as Y/n lay awake, staring at the ceiling, a desperate plan began to form in his mind. He knew he couldn't fight her directly, but he had to find a way out. He started leaving subtle messages for Winter, coded phrases hidden within seemingly innocuous texts he was forced to send under Karina's watchful eyes.

It was a risky gamble, playing a double game in his own prison. But the fear of a future trapped under Karina's control outweighed his apprehension. The messages, cryptic and desperate, went unnoticed by Karina, her focus solely on keeping him close.

Winter, thankfully, was perceptive. After days of deciphering Y/n's pleas for help, she contacted their manager, discreetly sharing the encrypted messages. The situation unfolded quickly. Security was alerted, and a plan was formulated to extract Y/n from Karina's grasp.

The day of their pre-recorded performance arrived. Y/n felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. It was his chance – the only opportunity he might get. As the girls prepared backstage, a tense silence hung in the air.

Karina, oblivious to the impending rescue, fussed over his costume, her manic behavior reaching new heights. Finally, it was time. The girls took their positions on stage, the familiar pre-show energy buzzing around them.

Just as the music began, a pre-arranged signal flashed in the corner of Y/n's eye. It was his cue. With a surge of adrenaline, he faked a sudden cramp, collapsing to the floor in a convincing display of pain.

While Karina was momentarily distracted, Winter, who was in on the plan, took her place next to him. In a split second, security personnel materialized, whisking Y/n away from a bewildered Karina who screamed his name in a desperate attempt to hold on.

The escape was swift and discreet. Y/n, shaken but safe, was ushered into a waiting car and driven away from the venue. The weight of the past few weeks lifted from his shoulders as he sank back into the soft leather seat, the city lights blurring into streaks of light.

He knew the fight wasn't over. Karina's possessiveness wouldn't disappear overnight. But for the first time in weeks, he felt a flicker of hope. He was free, and he wouldn't let her manipulate him back into her twisted world.

The news of their internal conflict spread like wildfire, shaking the K-pop world to its core. Aespa's future was uncertain, the damage done by Karina's actions seemingly irreparable.

Y/n, still recovering from the ordeal, received therapy to deal with the trauma. He missed the stage, the rush of performing, but the thought of returning to that environment, knowing Karina might still be lurking

Weeks turned into months. Y/n, cloaked in a shroud of therapy sessions and public scrutiny, slowly pieced his life back together. Aespa, however, had fractured. Winter, Giselle, and Seulgi went on a hiatus, their future uncertain.

One day, a knock on the door shattered the fragile normalcy Y/n clung to. His heart hammered against his ribs as he peered through the peephole. Fear, cold and primal, coiled in his gut. It was Karina, her crimson hair a stark contrast to the pale winter light outside.

But she wasn't the same. Gone was the fiery idol, replaced by a woman with haunted eyes and a manic glint. Her smile, once playful, was now a chilling display of predatory possessiveness.

"Y/n," she rasped, her voice hoarse, a stark contrast to the vibrant idol he once knew. "I knew you'd come back to me."

Before he could react, she shoved past him, the door slamming shut with a sickening thud. The familiar scent of lavender, her signature, filled the air, a suffocating reminder of the past he desperately wanted to escape.

He tried to flee, his legs turning to lead as he stumbled back. But Karina was quicker. With a swift movement, she slammed him against the wall, her grip like a vice around his arms.

"You left me," she hissed, her voice barely a whisper laced with venom. "You left me after all I did for you. After all the ways I showed you how much I love you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but they were not of sadness. They were tears of a twisted love, a love that demanded his complete and utter devotion.

Y/n stammered, words failing him as she traced her manicured fingers down his cheek. He could feel the tremor in her hand, a mix of raw emotion and unyielding control.

"Don't worry, darling," she purred, her voice a sickeningly sweet melody. "We can fix this. We can be together again, just like before."

Her lips, once soft and playful, were now rough and demanding as she pressed them against his in a searing kiss. It wasn't a kiss of love, but a claim of ownership, a forceful reminder that he belonged to her.

He tasted her desperation, a desperate hunger that mirrored the manic glint in her eyes. She ran her hands over his body, exploring him with a possessiveness that made his skin crawl. There was no escape, no fight left in him.

As her touch ignited a chilling fire within him, a morbid clarity washed over Y/n. This was his fate. He was a prisoner in her twisted love story, a possession she wouldn't relinquish without a fight. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: he would never truly be free from Karina's obsessive grasp. The dream of a normal life, the thrill of performing with friends – it all faded away, replaced by the chilling reality of a love that had turned into a suffocating prison.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Sirius Black, Professional Flirt

(NSFW and very suggestive but not explicit. Rated M)

Sirius Black was a flirt.

But more than that, he loved making people giggle. Making them blush. Rendering them absolutely lost for words.

It was all in good fun, of course. He would never banter with someone who didn't enjoy it. Who didn't joke back. But he loved making people react.

"Gonna come with us?" Marlene would ask, inviting him to Hogsmeade.

"I'll come with you anytime," He'd reply, winking, making her mouth pop open into a smile.

He could make any of his friends crack, and he was proud of it.

Except for one: Remus Lupin.

"Where were you last night?" Remus would ask.

But "In your bed, love," received no response.

"Bang that on the table," Remus would say to him in potions, telling him to set down ingredients.

But "I'll bang you on the table," didn't even make him bat an eyelash.

It was maddening.

James would flirt back. Peter would sputter. Marlene would giggle and Mary would blush. But Remus?

Nothing.

He was going crazy with it, and he almost thought Remus knew what he was doing. Because no matter what he said, Remus would just ignore him, or else stare at him with a deadpan expression, like he'd brought up paint drying.

One day, he broke.

Remus called him a pain in the arse for stealing his Transfiguration notes and he'd thrown him a grin, muttered that Remus could be a pain in his arse any time. And Remus had just blinked before grabbing his notes and returning to his homework.

And he just exclaimed, before he could stop himself: "Fuck, Remus, nothing?"

James cackled and refocused on his book while Peter rolled his eyes. But Remus seemed to think for a moment before bending close to Sirius, speaking so his low voice was barely audible, even though his lips brushed against Sirius's ear.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Sirius? Do you want me to push you against that table and take you apart nice and slow until you scream? Because I can. Would you like that? Because...I might." The voice in his ear was like honey, and Sirius found himself leaning into it, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

And then Remus pulled back abruptly, almost making Sirius topple over. He turned back to his textbook and began reading, as if he hadn't been uttering complete filth in Sirius's ear not two seconds ago.

Sirius was floored. He felt how red he was, how he was stuttering and gasping, how he could hardly make his brain work, let alone his mouth. "I-"

But Remus just looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I see why you always act like you do. It's fun." And with a wink, he stood and left Sirius, still completely shocked.

[evermourning]

chan x gn!reader | drabble | wc: 0.5k

| based off the most recent skz talker and the fact that i cannot paint my own nails 😭😭

chan loves to help you paint your nails.

you are sitting on the sofa, chewing on your lip in concentration. in your non-dominant hand, you shakily hold the brush, attempting to make the paint come out smooth and professional. you would've gotten them done at a nail salon, but you've just been so busy...and what was so hard about doing it yourself? hell, if your boyfriend did his own, you'd be fine.

you are, in fact, not fine, because it looks like the remnants of a paintball massacre are splayed over your hands. it is so damn frustrating.

"baby, i'm home!" chan says eagerly, throwing open the door. "god, today was so long...i'm so happy to be home with you."

he sees you on the couch and absolutely melts. he hasn't even noticed your dismay. his coffee-colored eyes are swimming with adoration. just seeing you, even for a minute or two, is enough to make his day.

he sets his things down swiftly, coming to bombard you with kisses, but stops abruptly when you try your best to signal that your hands are full and your nails are far from dry. instead, he settles for using one hand to maneuver your head so he can press a soft kiss to your lips.

it's gentle and romantic, and he savors the display of intimacy until it feels like eons have passed by, and his long eyelashes flutter open and a dazzling smile stretches across his face. his lips part, as if he's about to bless you with some lovely hymn, and then his eyes fall to your hands, splattered with nail polish.

his trademark squeaky laugh can be heard reverberating through the home.

"awww, do you need some help?" he giggles, his hands trailing down your body until he reaches your own hands, and he takes the brush from you. "may i?"

here you are now, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from chan as he expertly paints your nails one by one, blowing on them when needed and using a small cotton swab to dab at the parts that he messed up on. once he's done, he admires his work.

"absolutely lovely. it's so good on you, babe." he compliments wholeheartedly, leaning in to place a quick peck upon your nose. "i mean...you can pull off everything, since you're so stunning. so damn ethereal. but this is just your color, you know?"

you look away, knowing you're getting flustered by his words.

"hey, keep those pretty eyes on me." he murmurs, his arm wrapping around you, his hand rubbing gentle circles upon your soft skin. "we still have to paint mine so we can match!"

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[chikaras-garden]

The Interview

Ushijima Wakatoshi is your least favorite pro volleyball player to interview. You’re his least favorite sports journalist. All those feelings come to a head.

Pairing: Ushijima x fem!reader

Words: 1.5k

Contains: hatefucking, enemies to lovers basically, a ridiculous amount of teasing, degradation, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, creampie, maybe a hint of spanking and breeding kink, unprotected piv sex, U calls R “princess”

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Requested by two different anons.

The Adlers’ team office runs hot, as if the air around you is on fire. It burns your cheeks, scatters flames down your back, and creates a pool of heat in between your legs.

“You are not entitled to my time,” the volleyball player towering over you says. Rubbing your thighs together, you think that this is the first time you’ve been turned on by a thinly veiled threat to put you in your place.

Squaring your shoulders in a way that makes your sternum rise and forces your chest to press forward against your blazer, you tilt your head. “I’m entitled to do my job.”

“And you chose to do so by following me after practice,” he snaps. “I should tell your editor how unprofessional you are.”

Your breath catches, making your sneer falter. Nothing is more important than your job, and that’s when you realize how alike the two of you really are. That’s why he knew where to threaten you where it would hurt the most.

If you’re alike, then…what about the arousal hidden under your skirt?

“Ushijima-san,” you begin. Your body twists, slinking from your space between him and the door. Like a cat, you step around him, brushing yourself up against his back, so gently that you’re not sure he could feel you at all.

“Clearly, there’s tension here. Can’t you think of an easier way for both of us to get what we want?” You slide your hands down from his shoulder blades to the top of his hip, splaying your fingers over the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. Your thumb slips under the shirt, meeting warm skin and tight, controlled back and abdominal muscles.

His posture goes stiff. You grin. He definitely felt that.

“Your hands are freezing,” he grunts.

You scoff. “And your back is sweaty.”

“This…princess behavior is unbecoming of a professional,” he hisses. “Stop wasting my time.”

The muscles in your face go lax at the insulation that you’re a princess. Like static, sparks fly in your brain, and your body responds on instinct before your smart mouth can catch up. Your hands slide down his sculpted abs, over his waist, and stop, hovering atop where his cock waits in his joggers. You bat your eyelashes, mocking the droves of fans that you’re sure would kill to trade places with you right now.

“Just a few questions, Ushijima-san. Please?” 

Though he narrows his eyes at you, it’s futile; the disbelief on his face is outweighed by the flush of his cheeks and the needy twitch of his lips. So, you lean forward, whispering, “I’ll let you have what you so clearly need.”

Suddenly, Ushijima grabs you by the hips and hoists you up; in just seconds, he spins you around and bends you over, forearms pressed against a table so-conveniently placed in the back of the room. You’re in full view of the door, you realize upon glancing over your shoulder. Anyone could see you like this—see him taking you like this.

His wide torso completely covers you while one hand grips your waist, holding you down. The other, with the power and precision of the country’s top spiker, slaps the back of your thigh, grazing the hem of your skirt.

“Ask your questions, Princess.” His voice drips with a sarcasm that makes it exceptionally clear that, yes, you are still wasting his time.

You huff out a laugh, though your heart pounds in your ears. “What do you—ah!”

Halfway through your question, his hand creeps up your thighs. A broad palm cups your mound, and he thumbs you through your panties, tracing your folds through the dampening fabric. “Do you normally get this wet for the people you interview?”

When he flicks your clit, you buck your hips backwards, drawing the plump of your ass up and down his cock. “Ha—I’m asking the questions here, Ushijima-san.”

“And you’re doing a terrible job.”

“Why don’t you show me how a pro athlete blows off steam?”

There’s a disapproving sound behind you, a half-grunt, half-moan that Ushijima tries to strangle before it breaks out of his lips. You get the message: He thinks you can’t handle it. So, you reach backwards, snaking your hand around your own waist to fiddle with the zipper of your skirt. At this angle, it’s nearly impossible to wrestle it down, but it’s a very good thing there’s a big, strong volleyball player behind you.

Ushijima hikes your skirt up and over your hips without unzipping it. Then, he tugs your panties to the side, hooks the thin fabric around one of his fingers, and pushes his joggers down—just enough to let his cock spring free, evidenced by the fact that it lazily slaps against your ass.

You close your eyes and let out a shaky breath. Though you should have seen it coming, feeling him like this, knowing what you asked for and that he’s going to give it to you, you realize that he’s big. Very big.

“Are you ready, Princess?” he murmurs near your ear, giving you a quick peek behind the curtain. There’s a hint of caring in his voice. If it isn’t for you in particular, it’s for the fact that he wants to do this right; if it’s not right, it’s not worth his time at all.

So, you whisper: “Yes.”

Hearing all he needs to, he lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes in, inch by inch. He stretches you wide, wide, wide—and you bury your face in your forearms to hide the sound of air hissing through your teeth. The burn is absolutely intoxicating, filling your mind and making your head spin with the insatiable need to feel what it’s like to have Ushijima Wakatoshi balls-deep inside you.

“More,” you wine, muffled. “I need more.”

“You’re begging,” he notes. You pick up on a certain heave in his tone, noticing that he’s breathless, too. That’s your fault, and the effect you have on him makes your walls flutter while he pants, trying to force himself through your desperately clenching walls.

Frustrated at the pace, you push your hips back. He grabs your waist in surprise, but he’s too late to stop you: You press into him until your ass bumps his thighs, until you feel the kiss of his cockhead against your cervix, until you have to hide your moan in your bent elbow.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yes, that’s the whole point of this.”

For your snark, you’re rewarded with a halfhearted smack to your ass. It doesn’t hurt, at least not enough to distract you from the deliciously full feeling between your legs. Instead, you start giggling, filling the room with sweet sounds of bliss that almost drown out the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

Ushijima uses his free hand to pull you up, angling you so he can drive up, not forward. Then, one hand paws at your chest, fondling one breast while the other bounces along to the pace he, alone, chose. In this position, you can’t reach the table at all, and you realize that’s the point: You’re supported entirely by him, his size, and his strength. You have to rely on him, or else, you’ll fall.

“You’re going to let me fill you,” he whispers into your ear. “Understand?”

“Yes!” you cry out, as if you have a choice. Flailing your hands back to find something to grip, you land on his arms, veiny, bulging, muscular. You have to twist to reach him, and you’re met with his face: He wears a hungry look, eyes wild like a lion or a wolf that’s set its sights on his helpless prey.

Desperate, you kiss him.

He moans against your mouth, a sound that’s so loud and unhinged that you wish you could hear it in all its glory. Your eyes flutter closed as you latch onto him, giving into the feeling of being completely overwhelmed by him.

He slides his hand to grab you by the stomach, pulling you as close to his chest as he possibly can. After just a few deep, hard thrusts, he bursts inside you, filling you with a wet heat that makes your mind go blank, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before—and that alone makes you come, too.

Spent, he sets you on your feet. It’s so gentle compared to the way he just ruined you, but you’re grateful that he has the decency to help you stand.

“You’re an awful journalist,” he says. You look over your shoulder at him, and he’s already dressed. The only hint of what he just did to you is a pinkish tinge to his cheeks. You’re absolutely certain that you, with your shaky legs and wrinkled shirt, look much worse.

“Next time,” you pause to smooth down your skirt, then look up at him with a coy grin, “I’d like to be on top.”

If you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t notice the ever-so-small smirk on his face. “I’d like to see you try, Princess.”

[ghostssweetgirl]

simon ghost riley x f!reader

mine [smut]

Pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x fem reader

CW: alcohol intake, bar, dancing flirtatiously with a girl (y/n uses fem pronouns), bisexual/pansexual reader, jealous ghost, bathroom sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), slight praise kink, slight size kink if you squint, slight possessiveness kink

Word Count: 2.5k~

nsfw under the cut ! minors, do not interact! 18+ only !!

It was a well-deserved celebration night after an important mission. The 141 stopped by a lively bar, filled with all types of people. Music was bumping, and people were party chatting, laughing, and having a great time. For you and the team, it was a victory on your end for finally completing a very long, painfully exhausting mission. 

You had slipped out of your dirty uniform to something better. You were wanting to get lit tonight, so it had to be something sexy, but comfortable. You put on a long sleeve top that squeezed your figure tightly, a long 'V' exposing part of your breasts, and a small portion of your tummy. Paired with black jeans, ripped aggressively along your thighs, and black heeled boots. Of course, you let your hair down. Brushing it out, watching slight curls form at the tips. 

Trying something new, you put on some eyeliner, giving yourself some siren eyes. Curling your eyelashes, and putting on some mascara, you were very happy with how you looked. Cue hours later, at a bar you've never been to before, you were confirmed by the long, flirty looks of random men that caught eye contact with you. 

Going in and out of conversations with the force, and people watching around the bar, you were on your 8th drink of the night, finally feeling the buzz run through your veins. Soap calls a toast, lining up shots for everyone to take. Once everyone cheers, you sling your shot back and catch a peek at the Lieutenant, Ghost. 

He sat back in the booth, legs man spread and nodded his head at you as he took his shot. You smile, chasing yours with another shot, then go back to your girly drink, bobbing your head to the upbeat music. Soap joins you in the head bopping as well as Gaz. Price chuckles, shaking his head and Ghost looks unamused, unphased. 

--

Your body moved on its own; simply dancing out of your seat, to a semi-crowded area. A pretty woman, bubbly with a charming smile waltzed up to you asking you to dance with her. Of course, you obliged, can't tell a pretty lady no, can we?

You jumped up and down while you heard your favorite song come on - although your vision was hazy, your mind was colorful and wild, you smirked at the girl as you wiggled your hips, walking to her, accepting her invitation. Your bodies clashed, hands stuck together as they swirled into the air together, waving back and forth. 

You two giggled with each other, and it ended up with you turned around, basically grinding onto her. Her hands grabbed your hips and yours hung over your head, around her shoulders. You take a look around and it seems you've forgotten who you came with since you were having so much fun. Your heart almost drops as you look in the direction of where the rest of the 141 is sitting and they're looking directly at you. Soap, Gaz, and Price ogling you, enjoying the show they've been able to see. Really, you were looking at Ghost, but he wasn't looking at you. He was looking at his captain and his men. 

-

Ghost

He really, really was trying his damndest to hold himself back at this point. Many attempts to remain professional failed, and at this moment, he didn't want to admit that what he was feeling was jealousy. He knew the consequences of hooking up with you in the past, as he had tried to push them down and ignore them. Especially knowing that with the latest mission you were on, there would be no way to get a piece of you. But as soon as he could, he knew he'd pursue you, though Ghost urged him to pull away and leave you be. Simon was insatiable; he wanted every inch of you, to make you his, make you feel the love you never felt before, and treat you right. Hence, why every "last time" was never truly the last. 

Ghost had an upper hand at first, but Simon was overcoming, therefore developing anger and possessiveness when he saw the way his own captain, his men ogling over you, dragging their eyes slowly over your body, over the curves the feminine hands were caressing. He even felt jealousy towards the woman running her hands along your body; the same one that had melted under him several times. The body, the��person he thought of every waking morning and every night. As seconds tick by, he just gets more pissed off, his fists clenched by his sides.

She knows what the fuck she's doing, he thought. I'll have to show you that you're mine. No one else's. 

Fuck, it was hot, though, he couldn't help but admit that. He knew you were feeling yourself, feeling good - you damn sure looked good. Lust mixed with jealousy as he saw her hands grope your waist down to your hips while you shook your ass on her, swaying your hips to the music. The way your tits bounced, your chest glistened with sweat, your jawline stretched slightly as you tilted your head back at the attractive woman, and her hands glided up between your breasts as she pulled you into her face slowly.

Just before your lips met hers...

-

Your heart was racing, you were sweaty, hair locked to your face. She was teasing playfully, slowly pulling your face to hers before you felt a presence looming before you - your Lieutenant. 

You pull back, looking up at him nervously. "Yes, sir?"

"Need to talk to you," he told you. 

"Okay, wh-" you were cut off as he grabbed your wrist, stealing you away from the girl and walking away from the crowd towards the bathrooms. You looked back to make sure no one was watching you before you stumbled along, keeping up with his long steps.

--

He opens the bathroom door quickly, slamming and locking it behind you. You stood on the tip of your toes, anticipating what was going to happen. He seemed angry, or flustered. 

"Are you okay, Ghost?" 

"Shut up," he rasped, caging you against the wall. "You knew what you were doing out there, doll."

"I was dancing, Lieutenant," you replied softly. 

"Mm, dancin'? Looked like a little more than dancin' to me," he whispered lowly into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine like hot electricity.

"We were just having fun, sir... I apologize..." you look up at him with drunken, glossy eyes. There was no way that he was jealous of you as you both knew what was what while you two hooked up in the past, knowing the consequences of catching feelings in your field of work. It was damn sure a nice stress reliever, but it was just as hard on you as it was on him - to not catch feelings. 

One arm against the wall above your head, the other reaching towards your face. He grabs your chin, aligning your face to his, with dark eyes scanning your innocent ones. He sighs roughly before lifting his mask above his nose to press his lips to yours, kissing you with hard passion. 

He shifts one leg between yours, pulling away from the kiss as one hand trails down your neck to your collarbone, tracing your delicate skin. "Is that what you call havin' fun? Grindin' your arse on a pretty lady, givin' the men a show, huh?"

"I... I," you panted as his head lowered, and his breath lingered on your neck. His lips sucked at the soft spot as he gauged your reactions. You tried to explain yourself, but the pleasure took your words from you. "I was just..."

"Save your excuses, darlin'..." he nipped at your neck, earning a small squeal from your lips. Your back slightly arched against the wall as his lips trailed down your chest, and both hands massaged your waist. 

Your body melded to his touches, arching and leaning into him, for his hands that pervertedly, expertly, explored your curves. You couldn't help yourself as you ground onto his thigh, feeling the friction send a shiver up your spine. 

He grunted as he worked his thick thigh into your heat. "Good girl, that feels good, yeah? Grindin' on my thigh?"

"Yes..." you panted as you met his lust-filled gaze. 

"Fuck, I need these pants off," he rasped, taking his leg away from you as he knelt down, unbuttoning your jeans, watching your thick thighs ease out after being constricted. "Beautiful girl." 

Nearly blushing at his compliments, you shuffled your legs making it easier for him to remove your bottoms. He sets your pants to the side before he runs his large, calloused hands up your legs to your hips, squeezing the fat of your ass. He places soft kisses up your inner thighs that knowingly spread once he was on his knees. 

"Simon..." you moaned.

"That's right," he said in between kitten licks at your slit over your panties. "Whose name are you moaning, luv?"

"Yours, Simon!" you squealed as he pressed his lips deep over your covered clit. He hummed against your heat as he moved your soaked panties to the side. "Fuck, you look so good between my legs, Simon," you cooed. 

"Yeah? Only me, right?" he teased as he kissed the puffy lips of your cunt, before licking a slow stripe up to your clit. His lips suck harshly on it, causing your hips to buck. His hands snaked up your stomach to your breasts, pushing the shirt out of the way as your tits bounce out. He plays with them as his tongue is flicking at your throbbing nerve.

"Fuck! Yes, only you!" you agreed, grabbing the back of his mask between your fingers, pulling him deeper into your core. His tongue flattens as you hold his head steady, riding his face. You feel his hums as it vibrates against you, helping you ride out your high. 

The knot in your stomach tightens, threatening to snap as he pistons two large fingers that felt like a real cock inside you, scissoring against your gummy walls. You cry out in pleasure as your legs start to stutter beneath you. His arm reaches around your waist to hold you in place as he coaxes your arousal out of you, straight onto his face. 

Out of breath, you tilt your head down to see him kneeling for a moment, panting with your arousal shining on his face. You watch him as he gets up, towering over you once again. He pushes his two fingers inside your mouth in which you suck greedily, lapping up your own juices. He moans at the sight. 

"Fuck... 'M gonna show you who you belong to, doll," he growled. He grabbed you by your waist and flipped you around, bending you over the sink. You anxiously meet your own eyes in the mirror before you meet his, boring into your soul, demanding you to watch. 

Two fingers work your hole, stretching it to prepare you for his cock before he unbuckles his belt, releasing his throbbing length from the restraint before the tip meets your entrance. Stretching you open slowly, pulling back before he bottoms out; you moan in unison at the feeling. "Tight cunt... always so fuckin' wet f'me, yeah? You like my cock inside you, babe?"

Your mouth opens as you struggle to reply, staring sheepishly into his eyes as he tilts his head, waiting for your answer. "Mmf, ah, fuck, yes, yes, sir!" you whispered as you felt his cock reach your cervix, teasing it as the tip of his cock rutted against your sweet spot. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a sight to behold for Simon as he's doing long, slow strokes into your cunt, cherishing the way you feel wrapped around him. 

"No one else fucks you like this, right, y/n~?" he leaned down, grabbing the back of your neck as he plowed even deeper inside of you. The lewd sound of skin slapping echoes against the tile walls and your choked moans motivates his thrusts as they get rougher. 

"N- Oh~... No! No one else, no!" you plead, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes as you helplessly reach another orgasm. You nearly scream when he spreads your cheek, allowing him to ram into you better. He then leans down, clamping a hand over your mouth when he feels your pussy grip him impossibly tighter.

"Fuck, yes, good fuckin' girl," he purred. "You're mine, luv. This pussy is fuckin' mine." Thrust. "You're fuckin' mine, all mine." Thrust. "Only I get to fuck you like this. Only I get to touch you like this." He squeezes your tit roughly, rolling your nipple between his two fingers as you whine, tears falling down your cheeks as pleasure takes control of your body, the coil snapping as you finally release, squeezing his cock as he moans lowly into your ear. 

"Who fucks you dumb, huh?"

"Y-you, Simon!"

"Mhm, that's right, good fuckin' slut," he laughs as he teases his tip against your entrance before he slams into you slowly, watching your head loll around as he uses you like a fuck doll. 

"Simon! I can't! Too much, fu-uck!" 

"Oh, you can. One more f'me, doll," he chuckled, pulling you to his chest, wrapping an arm around your torso. He cups your chin, forcing you to take a look in the mirror. You see your tits bouncing, your pussy and thighs coated, slick with arousal and his veiny hands and arms gripping you tightly. 

"You're takin' me so well, luv. Such a good fuckin' pussy wrapped around me."

Your fucked-out eyes meet his predatory gaze, he chuckles at you before he looks down, watching your ass jiggle as he slams in and out, demanding that last orgasm to come out of you. 

Your body nearly collapses, he catches you as you fall over, legs spasming as he rips an out-of-body orgasm from you. His cock twitches as he paints your insides white with his thick ropes of cum. He topples over you for a moment as you both catch your breath.

--

He helps you redress and clean yourself up before you fix your makeup and hair. You look up into his eyes as he pulls you into his chest, kissing you deeply. He tastes faintly of you and the sweet bourbon he drank. His moans into the kiss as he lets you go with a deep sigh. 

"I meant what I said, y/n. You're mine," it was nearly an order how he spoke to you when he said that.

"Yours," you repeated. "Have been from the start." You winked at him, looking at him from over your shoulder as you walked out of the bathroom, having to pretend as if nothing had happened. 

[expulence]

💎💄Luxury Makeup 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 for a Flawless Look💄💎

With the popularity of skincare these past few years came the desire to achieve a more natural 'your-skin-but-better' makeup look.

♡...Enter the 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 makeup look...♡

It was characterised by minimal use of makeup and an emphasis on enhancing your natural beauty. The foundation needs to look like skin, and the lipstick like natural healthy and plump lips. As simple as this all sounds, it is quite an art form.

So where do you start?

Well, when it comes to achieving a flawless makeup look, quality products can make all the difference. Investing in luxury makeup can elevate your beauty routine and give you a professional finish. Furthermore as high-end products are concerned, a little goes a long way.

Here's a curated list of essential luxury makeup products that you might need in your collection:

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖔𝖓:

A high-quality foundation is the key to a flawless base. Look for a luxury foundation that matches your skin tone perfectly and provides a smooth, even coverage. Brands like Dior and Giorgio Armani offer a range of luxurious foundations that blend seamlessly into the skin, giving you a natural yet polished finish. A good quality concealer can make stubborn blemishes vanish without a thick and unnatural finish.

How to Use:

Apply the foundation using a beauty blender or a foundation brush, starting from the center of your face and blending outwards. Make sure to blend well into your jawline and neck for a seamless look. Start with a light layer and be sure to spot conceal any visible blemishes. This creates a flawless base without the cakey look of layered foundation.

High-end Foundatation/Base Recomendations:

Dior Face and Body Foundation

Giorgio Armani Luminous Silk Foundation

NARS Radiant Creamy Concealer

𝕷𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘:

No makeup look is complete without mascara. A luxury mascara can add volume, length, and definition to your lashes, instantly opening up your eyes and making them pop. Choose a higher-end mascara from brands like Too Faced or Yves Saint Laurent for a smoother application, intense pigmentation and long-lasting wear.

How to Use:

Start by curling your lashes with an eyelash curler, then apply the mascara from the roots to the tips in a gentle zig-zag motion. Build up layers for added volume and intensity.

High-end Mascara Recomendations:

Too Face Better Than Sex Mascara

MAC Extended Play Lash

𝕷𝖎𝖕𝖘:

A swipe of luxury lipstick can instantly elevate your look and add a touch of glamour. Opt for a smooth that compliments your skintone from brands like Tom Ford or Charlotte Tilbury for a creamy, long-lasting formula that feels comfortable on the lips. Some sheer lipgloss further elevates the look and adds to the glowy final product.

How to Use:

Start by outlining your lips with a lip liner for precision, then fill in the lips with the subdued lipstick shade of your choice. Ad a layer of clear, light pink of peachy lip gloss for an extra glow.

High-end Lipstick/Lipgloss Recomendations:

Bobbi Brown Luxe Lip Color

LANEIGE Lip Glowy Balm

𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕭𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖘:

A versatile eyeshadow palette is a must-have for creating a variety of eye looks, from subtle daytime glam to sultry evening styles. Invest in a luxury palette from brands like Natasha Denona or Pat McGrath for a range of pigmented shades and buttery textures. A single decent brow pencil can last you ages and carry you through various looks too.

How to use:

Start by applying an eyeshadow primer and choosing neutral shades that complement your skin tone. Apply a transition shade in the crease, followed by a light shimmer shade on the eyelid. Blend the edges for a seamless gradient and define the lash line with a dark eyeshadow powde. For your brows, brush them in the direction of hair growth, fill in the soparc3 areas gently with a brow pencil or powder for a more natural look.

High-end Eyeshadow/Brow Recomendations:

LAURA GELLER NEW YORK The Delectables Earthy Essentials Baked Eyeshadow Palette

Anastasia Beverly Hills - Brow Wiz

By incorporating these luxury makeup must-haves into your beauty routine, you can achieve a flawless look that exudes sophistication and elegance. Experiment with different shades and techniques to discover what works best for you, and enjoy the transformative power of high-quality makeup products.

But never forget..

💰𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲💰

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Clueless

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1,075

Your makeup bag sat on the counter as you dabbed on foundation in the dusty ballpark bathroom. You didn't used to be a makeup person, but a new job in a professional setting had changed your tune. Now you wore it almost every day, except when you were playing softball, of course.

Your thighs were burning from an hour and a half of playing catcher, and you knew you'd need an extra bit of green-tinged concealer to negate the raging red in your cheeks. You'd changed out of your dirty shorts and tank top and into a baggy pair of pink trousers and a band t-shirt. You were just starting on your eyebrows when Casey emerged from the stall behind you and moved forward to wash her hands.

You'd only lived in the city for a few months, but you'd already made several friends, thanks to the local LGBTQ+ softball league. Casey was probably the one you were closest to so far. You often went out for lunch or drinks after your Sunday games.

"You look good," Casey said, eyeing you. "Like really good."

"Thanks!" you chirped, brushing mascara on your eyelashes. "You too!"

Casey did look good in her light high-rise jeans and tank top. But, then, Casey always looked good. She looked stunning. You'd been deeply awkward around her at first; she was so pretty you often stumbled over your words in her presence. But after you'd hung out a few times—and convinced yourself that she was way out of your league and, therefore, solid friend material—you'd found your stride, able to be your awkward, quirky self.

Unbeknownst to you, your awkward, quirky self had Casey in an absolute chokehold. Casey had dated a lot of women and, fair or not, she often found herself categorizing them. As soon as they fit somewhere, she got bored. It was her job to predict people, but she didn't like to be able to do it in her relationships. She wanted someone who didn't fit in any of the categories. And you. You didn't quite fit anywhere. Soft and strong. Masculine and feminine. Serious and smart with a wickedly sharp of sense of humor. Awkward in a way that somehow made you cool at the same time. Every new thing she learned about you—and there was a lot to learn—made her like you more. The only problem was that you didn't seem to be getting the hint. Or maybe you were, and you just weren't interested.

"What are you doing after this?" Casey asked, pulling out her own makeup bag and trying to sound uninterested.

"Going out with Emmy and Tom," you said, smearing on a little blush—you'd overdone it on the concealer. "To that place with all the frozen margs. I can't remember what it's called."

"With Emmy and Tom," Casey repeated, trying not to sound as jealous as she was.

"Mmhm," you said, dabbing your lipstick with a bit of paper towel. You threw it away and turned to Casey, leaning on the bathroom counter. "You want to come? I'm sure they'd love for you to join."

"I was thinking," Casey replied, "that me and you could do something."

"Well, yeah, sure," you said, twirling your fingers next to your ear—you didn't know it, but it was Casey's favorite of your stims. "Obviously, I can't today because of, you know, Emmy and Tom, but we could grab coffee or something later this week?"

Casey stared at you so intensely that you had to look away; you didn't do well with prolonged eye contact. "Promise me you'll look this nice?" she teased.

"Please," you said, shrugging your shoulders and throwing your makeup bag into your backpack. "I always look this nice. Well," you faltered. "When I'm not feeling lazy, that is. Which..."

Casey laughed and ran a hand through her hair. "Damn," she said. "You are so clueless, you know that?"

Your face flushed, and you worried that you'd missed a social cue. Maybe an important one. Your brain raced backwards through the conversation, trying to figure out where you'd messed up.

"Y/N," she said, leaning down so her eyes were level with yours. She was so close you could smell the perfume on her neck—something woodsy and intoxicating. "When I say you look nice, I mean it in a gay way, not in a friends way."

Your stomach flipped. "Oh," you said quietly.

"When I say we should do something just us, I mean I want to take you out on a date. I'd like to kiss you. And I'd like to take you home after, if you're up for it."

You were, quite literally, stunned into silence. You had never had a girlfriend, never even had anyone interested in you. And because you were comfortable on your own, you were perfectly fine with that. But a girl could dream, right? And here was an absolute dream of a woman who said she wanted you. You hadn't even tried to be cool around her, so sure were you that you'd never have a chance.

Casey's confidence was waning the longer the silence went on. "I mean, if you're not interested, that's okay. Just say the word, and I'll back off."

"No, no!" you exclaimed, working yourself up to meet her eyes. "I'm definitely, definitely interested. I would love to do something just us. But, uh, still not today because Emmy and Tom."

"—Emmy and Tom," Casey's voice overlapped with yours. She tried and failed to hide a ridiculously big smile. "How about Friday?"

"Sure!" you said. "Sure, I can't wait!" You knew your stims betrayed a little more of your emotion than you'd like, but you couldn't help yourself, eyes pinching shut and fingers shaking frantically next to your ears. You felt your cheeks growing red in embarassment.

"Great! I'll call you," Casey finished, throwing her softball bag over her shoulder. "By the way," she said as she walked by you, your hands still twitching at the side of your head. "You're really cute when you do that." You blinked in surprise. Casey planted a quick kiss on your cheek before walking out, letting the bathroom door swing shut behind her.

You waited a beat before meeting your own eyes in the mirror and grinning like a lunatic. "Holy shit!" you squeaked. "Holy shit!" You fist pumped the air a few times before stimming your fingers and eyes again, a little less self-consciously this time. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and walked out the door, knowing it would be torture not to tell Emmy and Tom and maybe everyone you knew about your date with Casey. But you didn't want to jinx it. Not when someone like Casey Novak was on the line.

[ddarker-dreams]

Keychains.

Makima x F Reader.

Warnings: Slightly unhealthy undertones bc, y’know, Makima . Word count: 1k. 

“… And after I see how that goes, we’ll meet again in a week’s time to review…”

You want to focus. You should be able to focus, given your serious line of profession, which entails risking your life in a seemingly endless uphill battle against the supernatural. There is no justifiable reason you’ll be able to offer when your superior inevitably picks up on your wandering attention span.

Is it ever exhausting, to be as keenly aware as she is? To her, everyone else must seem like they live wearing horse blinders, bumping into each other, and making a general ruckus. Does she find it pathetic, or amusing?

Considering how difficult Makima is to read, you doubt you’ll ever be able to tell.

“I’m transferring you to our Hokkaido branch, effective immediately.”

This abrupt declaration breaks through the mental wall you’ve built up like a knife stabbed into your abdomen.

“Wait, really? What good can I do up there?”

“Gotcha,” she hums, her eyes smiling where her mouth does not. “You weren’t listening. I assume you are now, correct?”

“I’ve never been a fan of the cold, so yeah, that reeled me back in.”

“What managed to steal my [First]’s attention, I wonder?” Makima muses, muted mischief in her tone. She follows your line of sight — more for show, if you had to guess — finding an array of capsule toy machines to be the culprit. Your cheeks burn and you hang your head in embarrassment when she turns back to face you.

The following silence drags on for a painfully long few seconds. Just when you fear your professional image in Makima’s eyes has been ruined forever, she posits,

“Want to play?”

You sputter, your head snapping up to gauge her expression, which betrays nothing as usual. If your life depended on it, you would still be unable to guess if she was joking or not. She had a penchant for saying the most unusual things without batting an eyelash. It’d always come out of seemingly nowhere, too. She could go from discussing the most bureaucratic topics to making you wonder if your ears are working properly. The present predicament is an excellent example of this.

Really, you should awkwardly laugh and wave this issue off, getting back to the important matters at hand here—

“Be honest.”

“I do,” you say before you can even think to stop yourself. Huh? “I don’t have any change, though.”

Makima procures a 100 yen coin from her blazer’s inner breast pocket. “Win something good.”

For some reason or another, you feel compelled to accept the bizarre offer. Her fingers brush against yours ever so slightly when you take the coin. Without further delay, you make your way over, acutely aware of how silly this must appear to any onlooker. A grown woman dressed in a pressed suit and tie eagerly half-jogging to some capsule toy machines? The people’s hard-earned tax dollars at their best.

Childlike delight at the cute options listed quickly overshadows the self-awareness you felt earlier. Without further ado, you insert the coin and twist. A capsule then falls into your possession with a resounding thunk. Hurriedly, you unscrew the lid, revealing the special prize inside. You have to refrain from exclaiming in excitement — the sweet Pompompurin released only a year prior awaits within.

“Did you get what you wanted?” Makima inquires upon your triumphant return.

“I did! Thank you, Makima-san. I’ll treat us the next time we get drinks, or something,” you clear your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. Here’s to hoping that'll be the end of things. You’ll put your newfound spoil in your pocket, scream into your pillow later tonight, then try and forget this ever happened.

She rests her head on her fist and outstretches her palm. “Let me see.”

You do as you’re bid, obediently placing the figurine into her awaiting grasp. She studies it for a second, then as if arriving at a conclusion, voices another softly spoken command.

“Your phone too.”

Makima immediately sets out to work after you fulfill her request. Your flip phone in hand, she fastens the newly obtained keychain into place. Out of the repertoire of uncanny nightmares that haunt your memories, this might be the sight to trump them all. Your superior studying a dangling Pompompurin with that little enigmatic smile on her lips she so favors. She returns it without further fuss, leaving you to ponder what her intentions might possibly be.

“It suits you,” she decides, her eyes that seemingly swirl like a vortex fixated on your form. “Keep this on always and think of me whenever you see it.”

“I can do that, sure.”

Himeno is so going to be on your case about this later… you’ll need to think of a cover story. She probably wouldn’t believe you even if you did tell her the truth. You make a mental note to never answer your phone in her presence.

“I want one like that too,” Makima nods her head toward your newly decorated phone. You go to take a sip of your water, finding this entire interaction draining on account of how unusual it is. Although, you can count the number of times you’ve had normal interactions with your coworkers on one hand. “Then we’ll match. Almost like girlfriends, wouldn’t you say?”

At this, you almost choke on your drink. She’s benevolent enough to give you time to recover, sitting straight with her hands resting on her lap, while you’re fighting for your life. Eventually, your body sees fit to calm down. Aside from your heart. The traitorous organ is pounding at an unhealthy rate.

How does someone respond to that!? Public Safety has got to get better HR to curtail these sorts of things in advance. Now that you think about it, do you guys even have HR…?

“Oh, uh,” you cough lamely into your fist, “I’d love to help with that, Makima-san, but it’s all up to luck. Those machines can bleed you dry if you’re not careful.”

Perfect, that’s a solid, decidedly cool response that should help rebuild your shattered ego. She places a finger to her cheek while considering your words. After a moment’s deliberation, she reaches into yet another pocket that jingles upon being disrupted. A bulging coin purse is placed on the table and slid over to your bewildered person.

She takes your frozen hand and gently moves it onto the purse.

“If it’s luck that you need... then I’ll be your lucky charm.”

[misshoneyimhome]

https://www.tumblr.com/misshoneyimhome/737356008159084544/httpswwwtumblrcommisshoneyimhome736812845987

Prof!Willy anon and omg what you wrote was so good!! You don’t have to turn this into a series (but if you do I wouldn’t be opposed). Another thot/element to make it spicier is there being a little bit of an age gap like Willy is 30 ish and reader is like early to mid 20s. During one hookup, Willy has made you come so many times and he says something like “guys your age don’t know how to fuck a girl like this do they huh? can’t make you come over and over like I do?”. Also may I propose that he gets so turned on by being called professor in bed.

Oh, bb, I almost feel like I should head to church or something 🙈

These thoughts are stirring up all sorts of naughty ideas, and I just can't not go my instincts, you know 🙃😏

I hope you enjoy this next part 🙏🏼

Warnings; 18+ smut; oral sex (f receiving); fingering; unprocted sex (p in v); mild anal play (trying something new here🫢);

[Prof!Willy x reader]

“Guys your age don’t know how to fuck a girl like this do they huh?" I William Nylander (AU) 🖋️⚡️

"Alright, everyone, that’s it for today's session," the lecturer announced to the auditorium, signifying the end of the class and prompting the students to start leaving their seats. Most of them began making their way towards the exit, except for a couple of girls.

"Hey, Professor Nylander?" Angie spoke in a sweet, flirtatious tone as she approached the blonde man at his desk. "I was wondering if there's any chance I could earn some extra credits," she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"This isn't high school, Miss Turner. Here, you're an adult expected to earn what you deserve through your efforts," Professor Nylander replied, brushing off her not-so-subtle attempts to flirt with him.

"Well, my grades haven't exactly been the greatest. So, I was thinking, if maybe there was anything I could do to have them go up a little? Maybe you could tutor me?" Angie persisted, briefly turning around and offered her friends a wink.

Nylander sighed deeply. Angie had positioned herself half-sitting on his desk, her eyes suggesting a desire for the slightly older man, while her two friends in the background smiled in anticipation of her success.

"Why are you even taking this class, Miss Turner? It seems it's not for the curriculum," Nylander raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a professional ice dancer, duh. My coach thought it might be good for me..." Angie rolled her eyes, clearly not invested in the subject. However, this attitude didn't sit well with the professor.

"Miss, I don’t exactly have the time for tutoring, nor would it be appropriate… you’re on your own," he tried to tell her off with a stern expression, defusing the flirtation she was trying to create.

Because it had no work on him. He had no interest in spending more time than necessary with the student.

No, there was only one of his students he’d spend time with outside of school: you.

And naturally, you’d observed the whole scene from your usual seat.

Glancing up at the professor behind the girls, you briefly caught his look and curved a light smirk on your lips, as you couldn’t help but feel a little good about how desperate the girls were to flirt with him. A man they didn’t seem to have a chance with. And a man you were sleeping with in secret.

So, the girls let the matter drop and walked away from Professor Nylander, past you on the stairs and made their way out of the room.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you packed up your stuff and approached the man by his desk, just like Miss Turner had just done, standing in front of him.

"Oh, professor, can I earn a bit of extra credits?" you mocked her voice in a silly manner, exaggerating batting your eyelashes as she had done, prompting a chuckle from your professor.

"Oh, are you sure you’d be willing to do that, miss y/l/n?" he flashed you a mischievous grin.

“I thought it’d be highly inappropriate, Professor Nylander," you teased further, raising your eyebrows up and down. 

"For everyone else, sure, but in your case..." he said in a low, suggestive tone, leaning against his table while keeping a composed distance. "I can't wait to see how you'd attempt to earn those extra credits."

Despite whispering with a seductive tone, he made an effort to maintain his composure, aware that someone might enter at any moment and discover your clandestine relationship.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to demonstrate later – at your place, perhaps?" you suggested playfully, accompanied by a teasing wink.

"Can't wait..."

And with those words, you then departed the lecture room, purposefully strutting confidence as you walked away, making sure he’d look at your ass.

And of course he did. 

**

"You know, she's actually quite pretty," you remarked softly while enjoying the sushi take-out on the sofa. "Angie Turner, I’d get why you might be tempted."

William Nylander, your professor, regarded you with a curious expression as he joined you, settling in with his own take-out box and chopsticks.

"Why would you say that?" he inquired, prompting you to respond with a gentle smile and a slight shrug.

"Just in case you might want to be sleeping with other students... besides me," you mentioned, shifting your gaze to your sushi.

"What makes you think I’d want to sleep with anyone else?" William chuckled lightly.

“I don’t know… I mean, I don’t know who you sleep with besides me – it’s not exactly something we’ve talked about,” you elaborated with a soft smile.

"Do we need to talk about it? Are there others for you?" he queried, the two of you sitting on his sofa, locking eyes with one another amid the background noise of the TV.

"No," you replied gently, offering a faint smile. "In fact, there's no one else."

"Not even Josh Adams, whom you've been flirting with?" William's gaze momentarily fell to his food as he asked, then returned with a more serious expression.

"What… I haven't been flirting with Josh... and how do you even know about that?"

"I do see you outside the auditorium," he chuckled softly. "Just thought maybe there was something going on between you two, you know, someone closer to your age," he playfully winked while taking a bite of nigiri.

And you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. 

"Closer to my age?" you grinned at him. "Well, I suppose he is but... hang on, are you feeling jealous, Willy?"

"What? I'm not jealous..." William chuckled, before taking another bite of sushi.

"Oh, you're totally jealous!" You couldn't help but laugh, finding it amusing that the guy you were sleeping with might be jealous of one of your classmates.

However, William didn't really have any reason to be jealous because you weren't flirting with Josh. Not in the slightest. 

Josh was simply keen on getting your notes for Nylander's class because everyone knew you excelled in your grades. So, he'd put in a lot of effort, trying to charm you into sharing your notes, but it hadn’t really work on you. You believed others should make their own effort instead of taking advantage just because you were rewarded for your hard work.

And it wasn't just because you were sleeping with you professor. No, you were actually interested in the subject.

"I'm not jealous, y/n," William chuckled. "Why would I be? I bet I fuck you better than he ever could..." he said somewhat darkly, finishing his last piece of sushi with a confident smirk.

"Oh, darling, I know you fuck me better than he can," you teased with a mischievous smile, knowing that such a comment would stir something within the man next to you.

"You've slept with him?" he asked, his eyes almost piercing into yours as his smirk slowly faded.

"Only twice, Willy... second semester, and then never again," you tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but it seemed your teasing joke stirred deeper emotions within him, and now he couldn't quite contain what seemed like a bit of jealousy.

"Was he any good?"

His question intrigued you, sensing a slight challenge in his demeanor now that there was a point of comparison. And you knew exactly how to reassure him that there was no real competition between the two, yet you also felt the temptation to play with the little spark you unintentionally ignited in William.

So, setting aside the empty take-out boxes on the coffee table, you smoothly leaned in and seductively whispered in his ear, "He was nothing compared to you... professor."

And that seemed to work wonders on William.

Quickly, he pulled you onto his lap, rising from his seat, lifting you effortlessly as his lips met yours in an eager kiss.

Your fingers instinctively tangled in his blonde hair as he carried you towards the bed, while tongues fiercely entwined, stealing every breath.

William then placed you on your back, lips still connected with yours, while he hovered at the edge of the bed with your legs wrapped around him. It was passionate and intense, saliva mixing as your bodies intertwined.

But then he abruptly pulled away, breaking the kiss by biting down your lower lip, standing upright, and his gaze serious as he looked down at you.

William knew that the 10-year age gap didn't matter much in the context of their purely sexual relationship. However, he was also aware that his additional years of experience could work to his advantage, and he knew precisely how to showcase it.

Firstly, he unbuttoned his shirt swiftly, tossing it aside to reveal his toned chest. Then, he expertly unbuckled his belt, slid down his trousers, and kicked them off to the side as well.

Your gaze followed him intensely, both of you exchanging hungry looks, and you could definitely feel your cunt pounding in anticipation, even though he hadn't even begun yet.

Next, he undid your jeans, skillfully removing them along with your underwear. And with a deft move, he pulled your jumper over your head and unhooked your bra with a simple snap.

And soon, you found yourself completely naked before your professor. As he knelt down, your legs being tossed over his shoulders, and his mouth eagerly delved into your heated area.

"Fuck, Willy, yes," you moaned loudly as he worked his magic mouth, licking up your folds, sucking your clit, and exploring you entrance with his tongue.

William’s mouth wasn't just adept at speaking in class; no, he also had a talent for bringing you to your first orgasm simply by eating you out. And as he held your thighs firmly, the waves of pleasure washed over you, causing you to arch your back and grip his shoulders with your heels.

And your second orgasm was then brought to you by a combination of his skilled mouth and fingers working in tandem. His rough, long fingers curled inside you perfectly, making sure he hit you most sensitive sport every time, as he then pushed you to the edge once more causing you to loudly moan his name, and your mind consumed by a hazy pleasure.

William knew your body so well that he didn't have to think much about making you feel good. He just knew what to do.

"William..." you gasped as he stood and released his hold on you, his large, proud length strained against his boxers, leaving a damp patch of pre-cum.

“You’re doing so well, baby girl,” he praised with a lustful intense glare, almost incapable of restraining himself from fucking you senseless. But he needed to show you just what he could do to you. That no other young boy could.

And as you tried to slowly crawl up the bed to find the pillows to rest on, William forcefully pulled you by your calves and dragged your ass back down to the edge of the bed, your arms coming to extend above your head as your hair was spread messily out on the bed, positioning you with your legs on either side of him.

"Oh, so you think I'm done with you?" he chuckled with a dark tone, and you couldn't help but smirk in return, intrigued as you were. 

Because, obviously, he wasn't finished with you. 

And this time, he wanted to feel himself inside of you. After pulling down his boxers and freeing himself, he held your legs around his waist and pushed forcefully, easily entering you deeply.

"Yes! Willy," you cried out as he completely filled you up, starting to rock his hips hard and deeply, while gripping your thighs tightly.

"Yeah, baby girl, you like it like this?" he breathed out deeply with every thrust. "You're such a good girl for me…"

His praise was like sweet music to your ears, and you couldn't help but release loud sounds with every pound from William, stimulating you entirely as he hit deep inside.

Because under him, you were a total mess, surrendering completely to his touch with every movement, and again feeling another orgasm building up.

"Willy, I can't...!" you almost whined, sensing the climax approaching.

"You can't what, baby? Take me? Oh, I know you can take me!"

In one quick move, William pulled out, flipped you around onto your hands and knees, then with his strong hold, pushed you back and resumed thrusting forcefully. 

And just when you believed he couldn't become more intense and rougher, he proved otherwise.

William fucked you, and he fucked you hard. His skin audibly smacking against yours, as both of you were breathing heavily, the room filled with warmth, sweat, and passionate cries.

It was all incredibly intense and very much overstimulating.

You could hardly articulate a verbal warning. So instead, you simply gave in and reached climax once more, covering his shaft with your juices, as your head fell onto the mattress, feeling your essence trickle down your inner thigh.

William felt immensely satisfied with your response to his work, and he just couldn't resist complimenting himself for his efforts.

“Yeah, baby girl, guys your age don’t know how to fuck a girl like this do they huh? Can’t make you come over and over like I do?”

And no, they truly could not.

Your knees were growing weaker by the second, and there was no way you could endure another intense orgasm brought on by the man behind you. Yet, summoning a bit of strength, you forced yourself onto your elbows once again, earning only a smirk from William at how he had rendered you weak-kneed.

And then his gaze shifted to your bouncing ass as he continued pounding, he felt unable to restrain himself. So, he allowed a few drops of saliva to slip out of his mouth and trickle between your cheeks, where he then positioned his right thumb just above your tight hole, playfully applying a little pressure, which evoked a new, loud moan from your lips.

"Oh god," you murmured, dropping your head in defeat to the overwhelming pleasure once more, as you felt his thumb very gently press your tense muscles. 

And you weren't alone in nearing climax. William too was on the verge of losing himself entirely.

"Baby girl, just give me one more," he demanded with a husky voice. And he did not have to tell you twice.

With his member deeply inside you and his finger teasing your other opening, you unraveled for the fourth time that night, your mind going completely blank and your body trembling beneath you.

"Yes, professor," you gasped out. 

And those words, coupled with your tightening around William's cock, led him to follow suit, as he experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Releasing a deep grunt, as he expeled all the air from his lungs, and covered your walls entirely with his cum.

The air hung heavy with your labored breaths and the scent of sweat for nearly a minute before either of you could muster the energy to move and disentangle, slowly easing down from your intense high.

It had been a whirlwind of passionate and overwhelming pleasure. Only when William drew you close for a tender and calming embrace did the comfortable silence between you break.

"So, you really don’t sleep with anyone else?" he teased, glancing down at you while you rested your head on his chest and looked up at him.

"How could I ever sleep with anyone else when you fuck me like this?" you responded rhetorically, with a light chuckle.

"I suppose you can't, huh?" you both laughed softly. His question, however, prompted you to shift from your relaxed position. And as you stretched your arm, you now peered down at him.

"What about you? You never mentioned if you were sleeping with anyone else?"

Your tone was gentle, yet William sensed the undertones of seriousness, and he couldn't help but return a soft expression and a slight shake of his head.

"No, baby, you're the only one," he smiled back at you before pulling you into a passionate yet soft kiss.

[haileybeehappy]

Drug Dealer Harry

Long Hair Harry because I’m in love with him.

Idk the word count. It won’t let me check.

Warnings: ummm. Drugs… obvi. Fingering. Oral (fem receiving) switch reader and Harry

There is no love confession. There is no spilling of the heart. So you lay in your bed with your finger hovering over the send button of the text you have typed out for Harry.

Do you think I could get a few grams tonight?

I’m not to far from your place now if you want me to drop in

You pop out of the bed and shoot to the bathroom fingers typing as fast as you could get them to move.

Sure. Pop in whenever. Door is unlocked.

You slip the lock of your door and bolt into the bathroom to throw yourself together before he gets there. Brushing your teeth while trying to pick an outfit that says ‘I definitely wear this when I’m alone lounging around the house but I still wanna look hot asf’. You settle on an old band tee you had stolen from an ex and a simple pair of spandex shorts that weren’t too short. You brush some mascara onto your eyelashes before applying a little blush and highlighter to give your face some life and just as you finish running your finger through your hair you hear your door open.

“You know it is very unsafe to leave your door unlocked. Anyone could just walk right in,” Harry jokes as he takes his shoes off. You have wandered out of your. Bathroom and Into the living space of your one bedroom apartment

“Good thing we know every single person who lives in this god forsaken place. Who’s gonna break in?” He shrugs.

“I don’t know man. I hear there’s a drug dealer in the loose out there,” he says with a smirk.

“Oh no! In our precious little town?! What are we gonna do?” You feign shock. He just shakes his head and reaches into his pocket and throws a small ziplock baggie at you. You catch it at the last second between your fingers. Harry plops down on the couch and starts digging around his backpack. Pulling out a rolling tray and papers. You watch as he rolls a joint. His fingers moving at a steady pace. The motions being muscle memory by now. He brings the paper up to him mouth and licks the edge. Watching him roll joints is quite literally your favorite thing in the world to do. You love watching his hands. His tattooed ring clustered fingers. He looks up and catches your eyes on him as he brings the j to his lips and lights it up. He motions you with his head to sit next to him. You slip into the couch next to him and after he takes a drag he hands it off to you. Your fingers tracing his as he lets go. Your breath hitches in your throat as you inhale and start to cough.

“God y.n. Don’t die on me,” his hand comes to your back and soothes you as he rubs from the small of your back to your shoulder blades and back and forth.

“Holy shit,” you cough through the smoke.

“You’re definitely more of a professional than that damn,” you let out a laugh and his hand stills on your back. You give him back the joint and lean back into the couch. His hand moves up and onto the back of the couch. Keeping you tucked into his arm.

“I don’t know what happened. Damn went lil bitch on you,” you laugh. Dropping the back of your head and into his arm.

“There’s times you’re not a lil bitch?” He feigns shock. You gasp. You smack your hand against his chest.

“You’re so mean!” You exclaim. Before you can pull your hand back he captures it in his hand. He has always been relatively touchy with you. But he was with everyone else in his life too. Your heart quickens at the contact of his hand over yours.

“Hitting isn’t nice y.n ,” he has the j in the same hand he has pressed against yours. He brings the hand from around the back of the couch and switches the j from on hand to the other. He then brings it to his lips and inhaled. Your body and his so close you can feel each others heart beat. His hand doesn’t go far after he release the joint from his mouth. He brings it to yours and tips your head with his hand that is still holding yours. “Come on, take it,” a pulse is sent through your body. You slip it between your lips and let the smoke flow into you. “Good girl,” you close your eyes and hold it in your lungs. He’s definitely doing that on purpose. There’s no other meaning to that right. You blow the smoke out and stay propped against his body. Leaning into him more as you slowly feel your body slip into the comfort of your high.

“How come I haven’t seen you in a while?” You had avoided him due the creeping up of feeling and the fact that you had some very vivid sex dreams about him and couldn’t look at him without blushing. So you’ve been stretching your weed out longer and buying more in one go.

“Things have been busy. And I haven’t really had the money,” you shrug after a long pause.

“You and I know you only pay cause you want to y.n,” you open your eyes and look up at him. Your nose almost bumping against his.

“Oh? This is news to me,” you smile at him. He nods in an affirming way.

“Of course y.n. I would give you anything for next to nothing,” you cock an eyebrow at him.

“Well what is next to nothing then?” He leans closer to the point his lips are hovering over yours.

“I’m sure you can figure something out,” you lean up and close the gap between the two of you. His hand release yours and his fingers come to touch your face. Taking your chin between his fingers. You lean into him. Your legs colliding with his. He pulls back from you and leans forward. Dropping the joint onto the rolling tray before sitting back and in one swift move grabbing your leg and guiding you to straddle him. You let a laugh like yell. He smiles up at you before slipping his hands up from your thighs to your ass. To your hips. To your waist. His fingers gripping at your waist as he rubs his thumbs over your hip bones. Your lips not quite touching ghosting over his you tease him as he comes up to kiss you. You pull away ever so slightly. He lets out a whimper as you pull away one last time. You look down at him with a smile as he pouts up at you.

“I’m sure you can figure something out,” you laugh as his hands tightly grab your exposed skin under your t shirt.

“Please y.n. I need it,” you smile through the kiss as you press yourself into him. His hips grind up into yours as being your hands to rest on his neck. Lightly pressing your thumb into his skin. He lets out a little moan and pulls down harder into his lap.

“So good for me Harry,” you mumble into his lips. He just hurriedly nods his head.

“So good for you y.n,” you swoon at his little whines. You slowly start to grind down onto him. Not using speed but pressing against him hard. “Please, I just wanna feel you,” you grasp the back of his head pulling his face into your chest, gripping his hairs at the base of his head pulling on them slightly.

“Be quiet and let me play,” you whispered in his ear. He nodded. Head still tucked in your chest. His hands tap twice on your back. You release your grip on his head and he comes up with a gasp. You run your hands through his hair as he takes a few more breaths. Your hips starting to circle and grind down onto him. His erection pressing into all your sensitive spots. You drop your head back his hands move their way up into your shirt. He adjusts so he can lean up and he starts to press kisses onto your skin. You let out a moan, his hands move up to the center of your back and grasp at your bra.

“Can I?” He asks. Barely a whisper.

“Yes. Please,” his continued to place kisses as his hands very easily slip the clasps off the hooks. You freeze and sit up looking down at him with a surprised look on your face. “I can’t even take my bra off that fast,” a small smile cracks across his face.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I’m not gonna mess it up by fumbling your bra,” he nods.

“That or you’re a little whore huh?” He freezes. His eyes searching yours. “But you’re my little whore huh?” The tension in his eyes dissipates.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispers.

“My good little whore huh?”

“All yours,” he whines. You smile at him and pull away. You reach down in one swift movement your bra and shirt are off and onto the floor. His hands come back around from where they were resting in your spine. Hovering in the edge of your breasts.

“It’s okay, you can touch baby,” you give him permission. His hands gently grab at you. His mouth pressing warm kisses across your pebbled nipples. His touch so soft it’s almost comforting. You can feel yourself coming to the edge as you continue rubbing your clit against him. You don’t stop as you bring yourself to orgasm. As you start to slow you reach your peak his hands grip onto your hips and helps you move at a fast pace. You ride out your orgasm and come to a slow stop. You rest your head on top of his while you grip him around the base of his neck. The both of you breathing heavy. He has his arms secured around your waist. “Such a good boy for me,” you huff out. Slipping off his lap and laying back flat against the couch cushions. Your legs up onto him.

“Now it’s my turn,” he says and he moves between your legs and hovers over your body. His arms locking you, placed on either side of your head. “You be good for me now baby, you think you can do that?” He questions you. A stern lookin in his face.

“Yes.”

“Yes Harry,” he corrects.

“Yes Harry,” you respond.

“Good. Girl,” close your eyes tight and trying to keep yourself from whining. He leans down presses kisses along your collar bones. Kiss. “God,” kiss “you’re,” kiss “fucking,” kiss “beautiful,” kiss. He has worked his way from your collar none up to your jaw. He brings his hand up and grips your chin. His fingers slowly moving from your chin and entering into your mouth. “Suck,” he demands. You wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck. Your tongue coming up to press against the digit intruding your mouth.

He pulls himself from your grasp and drags his wet fingers down your chin. Your neck. Your chest. Yours stomach. To the waistband of your shorts. He traces the hem back and forth. Back and forth.

“Please Harry,” you whine. He smirks and dips his hand into your shorts. Past your underwear. He hovers over your clit. You raise your hips to meet his touch but the second you try he pulls his hand out of your shorts.

“Don’t move,” he says sternly.

“Yes sir,” you whimper. He smirks at your response. He sits up and dips his fingers into the hem of your shorts. He pulls them off your body in a clumsy move. He flings them over his shoulder in an exasperated way once he has them off your ankles.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” he says almost inaudible. You raise yourself up into your elbows looking up at him.

“Please Harry. I need something. Please,” he smiles and lovers himself so he’s face level with your pussy.

“I think you’ve forgotten you’ve gotten off. This is all for me,” he glances up at you. “You better not come until I tell you that you can,” he hooks his arms up around your thighs and places his large hands on the tops of your things pulling at you legs so they fall open and he holds them firm. He starts slow by placing kisses around your clothed center. Your thin underwear leaving the smallest amount of space between the two of you. You try your best not to move your legs but the second his lips touch your clit you go to lift your hips and close your thighs out of pure stimulation but his hands keep your bottom glued to the couch and he forces your legs back open. Holding them down and apart before placing another kiss on your clit. Lingering longer.

“Please Harry, please.” Your hands let go of the couch cushions and find their way to his messy hair. Tangling the long strands between your fingers. You pull at his roots and he lets out a moan against your pussy. Which causes you to pull harder. He lets go of your legs and brings his fingers to your underwear. Grasping at the lace and tearing it right in half pulling the gusset of your underwear apart and giving himself full reign to your soaked center. You let out a yelp at the sudden act and sit up a little straighter.

“Hey!”

“I’ll buy you ten more pairs,” a smirk on his lips and he dives into you. His long licking a slow stripe across your slit before coming to your clit and suctioning his mouth around it and ever so slightly applying pressure with his tongue. You let out a loud moan and pull at his hair again.

“Holy fucking shit baby yes,” he releases his mouth from you and goes back to licking at you. He continues to suck and lick at you. Bringing you right to the edge and then pulling back and letting you wind down.

“Harry please,” you whine pulling at his hair. He smiles against you.

“Come,” He demands. His tongue laps through your folds as his fingers dip into your core. With that simple move an orgasm rocks through your body. You tug at his hair, hard. Your hips raise up off the bed as your toes curl. His name escapes your mouth over and over like chanting a spell. He groans against your pussy as you come down from your high.

Your orgasm fades, your body still tense as you look up at him. He has brought himself up into his knees and is looking down at you. A slight smirk on his face.

“If I didn’t think you’d explode I’d spend all day between your legs,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Shut up and fuck me,”