#Request fill

[aegonstradwife]

exposure therapy | aemond targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aemond were recently married. you're afraid of him, but aemond goes to great lengths to show you he's not that scary.

warnings: excessive use of ellipses, #1 wife lover aemond targaryen, brief mention of childhood trauma, smut. (fingering, face riding, oral.)

a. note:link to the original request.

As Aemond's new wife, it's surprising how little time you spend together. The servants whisper about it around every corner; how you skulk through the halls hoping to avoid him, how nearly every meal you take is apart from each other.

But there's a very good reason for this, one that you've never admitted to anyone.

You are terrified of him.

Even at night, you might share the same bed, but it's big enough that you can sleep soundly without ever once touching him. Although even that was difficult at first; those first few nights you dreaded climbing into bed with him and got nearly no sleep at all.

He is so much bigger, and much stronger, than you. He really could do anything he wanted to you and you would have no chance of fighting him off.

Eventually, however, Aemond's still body beside yours throughout the night, you realized he either wouldn't, or didn't want to, touch you. And finally you were able to get some sleep.

But now, though sleep comes much more easily and your nights are no longer fraught with peril at the thought of him forcing himself upon you, it still doesn't mean you have any desire to be around him.

And you thought he felt much the same. Until tonight.

Aemond is already comfortable on the settee by the window, reading, when you retire to your shared bedchamber for the night.

Hells bent as usual on ignoring him, you busy yourself with removing your shoes in front of the wardrobe.

"Come. Sit with me."

In the quiet of the room, Aemond's sudden, uncharacteristic, voice makes you jump, going very still. His tone is soft; now that you think on it, you've heard Aemond's voice very few times, either before or after you were married.

In your mind, the few times you had heard him speak, you remember him sounding like a complete barbarian. Not this lilting, almost melodic, softness....

Straightening, you nervously smooth the skirts of your dress down over your thighs. Aemond's silhouette is stark against the candles guttering on the windowsill.

You gulp, starting to tiptoe toward him, but stopping at the opposite arm of the settee. "Do I have to?" You ask quietly, and even that takes every ounce of courage in your weary body.

This is probably as close as you've ever been to him when not in bed together at night.

"I won’t bite." Aemond's lips are quirked in a half smirk. He closes the book in his hands and sets it aside, patting the space beside him. "I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Come. Sit."

Though he had indicated the middle cushion, you sweep your skirts under you and take a seat on the one beside it, furthest from Aemond.

Normally you would have loved sitting and reading by candlelight, the cool breeze from the open windows ruffling your hair.

But now you bite your lip, heart hammering hard against your ribcage like a frightened bird.

Aemond can feel the tension radiating off of you. Your shoulders tight as a bow string, the muscles in your jaw taut, hands folded in your lap fidgeting with a loose thread on your gown.

He simple looks at you for a very long moment. Your features are delicate, almost fragile, your frame small and dainty when compared to his. To Aemond, you look very much like a porcelain doll. He has no idea how someone could be so beautiful and yet so…. breakable.

You glance nervously at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking.

"What?" You ask, though you keep your voice low, not wanting to anger him.

"You're afraid of me," Aemond states bluntly. He leans against the back of the settee, studying you with one intense purple eye. "Why?"

You laugh aloud, unable to stop yourself. Now seems as good a time as any to tell him exactly what you've been thinking since your wedding day.

"Look at you. And look at me. You could do whatever you want to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Not to mention...." You shrug. "The stories about you aren't kind...."

Aemond raises an eyebrow at your laughter, that same small, wry smile never leaving his lips. He can't help but wonder if you're mocking him as he leans forward, gaze still locked with yours.

"And what do the stories say about me, little wife?" His voice is low, a dangerous, frightening edge to it.

For seemingly the first time, you look your husband in the eye. One piercing violet eye stares back, the other covered by his customary eyepatch. "They say you're a fearsome warrior, one of the strongest swordsmen alive. And they say.... they say you killed that boy. Rhaenyra's son...."

Aemond’s eye narrows. There is so much uncertainty in that gaze of yours, something about your innocent face makes Aemond feel.... bad. His jaw clenches and he leans back.

"Lucerys Velaryon. Yes, I did kill him. Though I didn't mean to.... I lost control."

"You didn't?" Your eyes narrow as well, suspicious of him. "Then.... what did you mean to do?"

Your husband lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. "I meant to scare him. I was.... angry. I wanted to teach him a lesson, to frighten and humiliate him. And I did not have such good control over Vhagar as I do now...."

At the mention of his dragon, you perk up - that's one thing you've always been curious about. The Targaryen dragons are so beautiful and powerful; you would love to ride one one day, if given the chance.

"So your dragon, she disobeyed you?"

Aemond is clearly taken aback by your interest in Vhagar. For a moment, it seemed you forgot you were supposed to be scared of him. He tries to hide the hint of surprise flickering across his face.

"Well, yes and no," Aemond says, diplomatic. "Vhagar is a very old and powerful dragon, and she is used to doing what she wants. Sometimes.... it's difficult for any Targaryen to control a dragon, even the strongest of riders."

You are positively fascinated, hearing about Vhagar, leaning in toward Aemond without realizing. "What is it like, riding her? Does it ever get cold, so high up?"

Aemond can smell your perfume as you lean toward him, a mix of jasmine and honey, faint yet sweet. He clears his throat.

"Riding Vhagar is like nothing else," he tells you. "And yes, it does get cold at times, but the feeling of the wind in your hair and the power of the dragon beneath you is.... indescribable."

"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" At this point, you're nearly nose to nose with Aemond, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Or do they only let Targaryens?"

Aemond freezes, gaze still locked with yours, your heads so close together that he can feel your breath ghost across his lips. He is surprised by your question and even more surprised by how badly he wants to fulfill the request.

"They only let Targaryens ride them, yes," he says, voice sounding much huskier than he intends. "But.... I'm sure Vhagar wouldn't mind letting someone else ride her.... if I were to accompany them."

"Would you?" You reach out, hand finding his thigh and giving a thankful squeeze. Realizing what you've done, how close you've become to him, you quickly snatch that hand back as though Aemond is on fire. "I'm so sorry...."

Aemond’s eye widens; for a heartbeat, your touch sent a shock through his entire body.

"It's alright." His voice is rough. “Don’t apologize....” He catches your wrist gently, before you can pull your hand away completely. "It was.... nice."

You tense, wrist caught in his strong embrace. "What are you doing?"

For a long moment, Aemond doesn't respond, simply staring at your slender wrist in his hand. Your skin is so smooth, so soft. He can feel your pulse beating against his palm, fast and fluttering like the wings of a small bird.

"Doing?" He finally asks, looking up at you with a sly smile. "Just.... holding your hand, that’s all."

"Holding my.... oh." All things considered, Aemond is handsome, you suppose. With his long silver hair, that chiseled jaw, the little moue of his lips. "You.... you really aren't all that scary, are you?"

Chuckling softly, Aemond's fingers gently stroke the skin of your wrist. Your words, spoken almost as a question, take him by surprise.

"I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice low and slightly amused. "And I don’t want to be scary, to you. Can I be honest with you, little wife?"

You nod, letting him continue to stroke that sensitive bit of skin around your wrist. He is very gentle, which has taken you by surprise.

"The truth is," he mutters, "I don't like it when you're scared of me. I don't like the way you look at me, as if you think I'm going to pounce on you and tear you apart at any moment. That's not what I want."

Slowly, still wary of him, you curl your fingers around his thumb and Aemond's breath hitches. Your hand is small compared to his; Aemond's fingers look massive beside yours.

"Everyone else seems so frightened of you. I thought.... I should be as well. I didn't know, that you hadn't meant to kill that boy. Have you told anyone else that?"

“No,” he says after a moment. “No one else knows. I haven't told anyone.”

He pauses, looking down at your hand in his. His other hand comes to trap your fingers inside of his palms, his thumbs tracing back and forth over your skin. “You’re the first I've shared this with.”

"You should tell others, that way no one will be scared of you."

Aemond lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze still fixed on your fingers intertwined with his own.

“I quite like others being afraid of me,” he admits. The smile on his face fades, just a bit, in the flickering candlelight. “But not you.”

"Not me?" You query, a sweet blush rising high on your cheeks. "Why not me?"

Aemond’s eye is drawn to that color blooming across your cheeks, the innocent flush sending a strange feeling coursing through him. He continues to stroke your wrist in a gentle, almost reverent, way.

"A wife should not be afraid of her husband," he says finally, his voice soft. "She should be worshipped by him....”

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings your wrist to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.

You lick your lips, nervous as all seven hells with the way things are going. Not only are you still afraid of Aemond - though growing less so by the moment - you have also never been close like this with anyone else before.

"And why.... why is it so important for other people to be afraid of you?"

Aemond’s lips linger over your skin, the faintest ghost of a smile there. He can feel the way your hand trembles slightly in his, the nervous flutter of your pulse against his fingertips. But he also notices how you don’t draw back, how you sit still and allow him to hold you.

“It's.... payback, almost,” he confesses. “For the torment I suffered as a child. It is better to be feared than loved - no one will ever again treat me the way they did when I was young.”

You are not aware of any torment in Aemond's childhood, though that isn't saying much. Of course the Targaryens keep much of what goes on between them a secret. Even now that you're married, you're hardly privy to all - or even most - of their secrets.

"Is that.... how this happened?" Shaking ever so slightly, you raise a hand to Aemond's face, fingers stroking the strap of his eyepatch.

As your slender fingers brushed against the edge of it, Aemond tenses, every muscle in his body going taut. No one has ever touched him there before, and it's an unfamiliar intimacy.

He closes his eye for a moment, trying to control his reaction, before speaking. “Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotions he finds difficult to name. “That's how this happened.”

You feel for Aemond; having to grow up that way must have been torture.

Pulling your hand gently from his grasp, you bring both up to hook beneath the rough leather strap. "May I?"

His breathing hitches as your hands tug gently at the straps of his eyepatch. He knows your touch is innocent.... but no one has ever dared to remove it for him before. He nods once, his voice low.

“You may.”

With fierce concentration and a desire not to ruin his perfect hair, you slide the eyepatch up and off, gasping at the gorgeous sapphire glimmering where his eye should be.

"Gods, it's beautiful, Aemond." Letting the patch rest in your lap, you run your fingers lightly over the scar tissue below Aemond's eye. "Who did this to you?"

Aemond's breath hitches again, rougher this time, as he feels the tips of your slender fingers graze the scarred tissue around his eye, the touch stirring something deep within him. The feeling of your touch against the sensitive skin there is almost overwhelming.

He swallows hard, that old pain and anger bubbling up inside of him.

"My.... nephew," he finally says, his voice surprisingly even. "Lucerys Velaryon."

You inhale sharply; all you can think of is that if Aemond had really meant to kill the boy, he would have been well within his right to, after having been mutilated like this.

Grabbing for his hands, you hurry to say something. "Aemond, I-"

But your husband cuts you off. "There is one other reason it's important for others to be afraid of me."

"A-And what is that?" You ask, holding his hands close to your bosom.

"So that I can protect my wife, and my family." That sapphire is positively glowing in the light of the flickering candles. "The more afraid people are of me, the less likely they are to try and harm me, or you, or our family.... once we make one...."

His declaration takes all the air from your lungs, and you find it hard to breathe. "If I had known all of this, I.... I would never have been so frightened of you. I'm sorry, Aemond."

You cast around desperately for something else to say, some other way to apologize.

"Do not apologize."

His voice is gentle, yet firm. Your hands are still holding his against your breast, and he can feel the warmth of your skin even through the layers of your gown, the rapid beat of your heart.

"You didn't know, it is not your fault for being afraid," he soothes you. "But.... now that you know.... may I ask you something else?"

You nod, eager now to answer Aemond's questions and to ask more of your own - you want to learn so much more about him.

Aemond's fingers tighten around yours, the feel of your soft skin against his own sending a strange heat through his veins. He draws you in a little closer, his face now so close to yours that he can feel the warmth of your breath, that same scent of sweet honey and jasmine in your hair.

"You.... have not shied away from my scar, or my missing eye," he says, his voice a low whisper. "You have touched them, caressed them even.... why?"

Why...? You find it odd he even has to ask.

"Because I think they make you beautiful. Is that wrong?"

Your thumbs find his wrists now, pressing in against his pulse points, which are fluttering erratically.

Aemond's breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your dainty thumbs resting against his wrists, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse, setting his skin on fire. Your words, declaring him beautiful, ring in his ears, stirring something deep within his chest.

"Be-Beautiful?" He repeats, his voice a terrible croak. No one.... no one has ever called him beautiful. The word sounds strange in his ears, as if they're not meant for someone like him.

You nod, and after only a momentary hesitation, you bring one hand up again to his scar. This time, brushing the side closest to his hairline, a few strands of long silver hair getting in the way.

"Beautiful, Aemond. You're beautiful. I mean.... I did always think that. Just.... was too afraid of you to tell you. Do you forgive me?"

Aemond's breath hitches once more as your fingers stroke his hair, your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. No one, no one, has ever touched his scar with such tenderness, such care.

"I.... I forgive you," he whispers, voice raw. "And for what it's worth.... I'm sorry, that I.... that I made you afraid of me. I never wanted that, I swear."

"I know. It wasn't even your fault, really." You roll your eyes, relaxing against the back of the settee. "I was just.... assuming that what everyone else said was true. Which is a terrible thing, really. My parents raised me much better than that."

A particularly chilly gust of wind blows in through the window and you wrap your arms around yourself. "I have to admit, I thought if my shenanigans went on much longer, you'd be forced to.... well, force yourself on me...."

Aemond is silent, as if that thought, the notion of forcing himself on you, is something he refuses to even consider. He turns to look at you, the pale glow of his sapphire eye giving him an otherworldly appearance.

"I.... I would never force you to do anything, little wife, not ever," he says, his voice low and serious. "I believe the first time a man and wife.... are together.... it should be.... enjoyable.... for both of them."

Suddenly, all words are caught in your throat. The thought of your first time with Aemond still makes you nervous, even knowing that he would never want to do anything against your will.

"I thought.... a woman's first time was always painful?" That's what you've always been told. You have never done anything of the sort, but perhaps Aemond knows better.

At your words, Aemond's jaw tightens. His fingers clench into a fist, the thought of you in pain during your first time together sending a wave of anger through him.

"No. No, never. It shouldn't be painful, not unless you don't want it, too," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Your first time should be.... enjoyable. Pleasant. I would never take you simply for my own pleasure. I would make sure you...." he falters.

Flinching slightly away from him at the sight of his hand in a fist, you gasp softly. Have you said something wrong?

Still, you dare to ask, "You would make sure I what?"

In the candlelight, Aemond's eye flashes dangerously and that sapphire blazes.

He takes a very deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to open his hand again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I.... I don't like the idea of hurting you, it.... makes me angry."

He looks down at you again.

"I would make sure that you.... felt pleasure as well. It wouldn't be about me. It's about both of us."

If you had known how protective Aemond was of you, you would have asked him about these things sooner. He is, after all, the only person you can think to ask. If you can't discuss bedroom matters with your husband, who can you discuss them with?

"How does it feel?" You ask him softly, scooting closer to him on the settee. "When you have sex, how does it feel?"

Aemond is taken somewhat off guard by the sudden question, his cheeks going pink at your unexpected candor, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't want to shy away from your questions, not when you're so close to him, peering at him through those wide, innocent eyes.

He takes another deep breath, shifting on the settee so he can face you fully.

"it.... it feels.... good," he begins, his voice a low rumble. "It feels.... full. Warm. Tight. But.... good. More than good, especially when you do it with someone you care about. It feels safe, like nothing can hurt you ever again."

The look on Aemond's face as he speaks is one you've never seen before - something vulnerable and almost childlike staring back at you. You wonder how you could ever have been afraid of him.

"And you? Who was your first time with?"

As your question hangs in the air between the two of you, Aemond goes stock-still. No one has ever asked him that before.

He hesitates for a moment, peering warily at you. "Why.... why do you want to know?" He asks finally, voice cautious.

Now you know you've definitely said something wrong. "I was just curious," you hurry to tell him. "It's wrong of me to pry, I'm sorry...."

Aemond sighs softly, shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he says, his voice a light simper now. He reaches out, taking your hand gently in his.

"It's okay, I just.... wasn't expecting you to ask that." He pauses, and you can see a flicker of something run across his face. "You.... you really want to know?"

"I do," you admit bashfully. "If you feel comfortable telling me?"

Aemond's hand grips yours a little tighter, your words sending a strange, tight feeling through hm. He hasn't thought about that night in a long time, and the memory is still painful enough to make him wince.

"All right," he says, letting out a slow breath. "I.... I'll tell you. Just.... just don't.... don't judge me, all right?"

"I won't judge," you assure him with a shake of your head.

Aemond looks down at your intertwined hands, his fingers tracing a light pattern against your palm. He closes his eye, gathering his thoughts, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a barely-there kiss to your knuckles.

"My.... my first time," he begins, and his voice is rough, "was with a whore, in a pleasure house, at the behest of my brother who frequented - and still frequents - them much more than I did."

"I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of," you admit, mulling the idea over. "Most men visit those types of places at some point in their lives.... don't they?"

Aemond pauses for a moment, his eye locking with yours. He looks almost surprised by your response, as if he hadn't thought you would be so blasé about the situation.

"Yes...." he says slowly, "they do. But.... it's not.... it's not the sort of thing a wife would expect to hear, about their husband's past exploits."

You chew your lip thoughtfully, running your fingers around and through the spaces between Aemond's. "I don't mind, as long as...."

You hesitate, wondering if you really want to say this now or leave it for another night. "What I mean to say, Aemond, is that.... now that we understand each other better.... perhaps you can show me what it's like? Sex? And, if you do, I expect there to be no more pleasure houses in your future, is that clear?"

Aemond's gaze darkens as your words register, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers twitch against yours, breath catching in his throat.

"You.... you want me to show you...?" He repeats weakly, his eye wide and disbelieving.

You close your fingers tightly around Aemond's now, leaning in toward your husband. "Mm. But as I said, you must promise - no more pleasure houses. After all, you did say you want to worship me, did you not?"

Aemond's head swims with your words, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it's difficult to catch his breath. The way you're looking at him, the sweetness in your voice, the scent of honey and jasmine in your hair.... all of it is almost too much to bear.

He swallows hard, and nods. "No more pleasure houses. I promise," he whispers, his voice hoarse and rough.

His oath sets you at ease, but there's one more thing you must tell him.

"I must admit, Aemond, I'm still scared...."

He looks about to interrupt, but you cut him off. "Oh, not of you. I'm.... terrified of the pain. I've never done well with pain, and I'm so scared it's going to hurt like hell."

Aemond's heart twists at the worry and fear in your voice, his fingers tightening over yours. He hates the thought of you being scared, hates his own inability to take that fear away from you.

"Why do you still think it's going to be painful?" He asks quietly.

Instead of making you feel trapped, his fingers around yours make you feel safe. Aemond is lethal; you can see it in his face, in the hard line of his body. But he wants to use all of that to protect you....

Though what could he possibly do to prevent his own body from hurting you, even though he might not mean to?

"That's all I've ever been told." You gulp. "A woman's first time is always painful. And.... There's always blood."

Aemond's jaw clenches in anger. He doesn't know who planted these false, hurtful notions in your head, but he wants to tear them limb from limb.

He reaches out to you, tilting your head gently up to meet his gaze. "No. No, no, no," he says, his voice low and intense. "It's not supposed to be painful, especially the first time. You've just.... you've been told wrong."

He pauses. "Sometimes there is blood, I won't lie to you about that. But there are ways to minimize the chance of that."

Aemond's fingers start to skirt back and forth under your chin. "How .... How can we stop there being so much blood? I want you to show me."

Heart now beating much faster, Aemond's stomach twists with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He swallows, hard, his eye dark and heavy-lidded as he gazes down at you.

He runs his fingers through your hair, the soft feel of it against his skin maddening. "I can show you," he murmurs, "but.... you have to trust me."

"Of course. I do now." You turn your face toward his hand, palm skimming your cheek as he touches your hair. "I know you'll take care of me."

He takes another deep breath to steady himself, his hand coming to rest against the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Good," he whispers, "because I will, always. But there's something.... something I need to know first."

You shiver, Aemond's fingers reverent along your cheek and jaw. "What is it?"

Fingers now trailing down your neck, he pauses, hand coming to rest on your collarbone, your pulse beating fast and hard against his palm.

Aemond leans in close, his voice a rumble in your ear. "You.... you have never even been touched, have you?"

You are very aware of how hard your heart is beating, thumping underneath his fingers. "I haven't.... is that bad?"

Aemond breathes heavily, pulling back to look at you.

"No," he says emphatically, "it's not bad. It's.... it's just...." He trails off for a moment, struggling to find the words. "I need to know.... if you're still.... if you're still intact."

The question makes you blush furiously, looking down at your laps, side by side, so you don't have to look Aemond in the eye. "I.... yes.... isn't that where the blood comes from?"

You don't know much, but you do know that.

He places two fingers gently under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him again.

"Yes," he says, "that's where the blood comes from. But it can break in other ways. For instance, from fingers or.... other objects." His fingers trace along your cheek, obviously trying to soothe your growing discomfort at this conversation.

"But it.... it doesn't have to," he adds after a moment.

You chuckle, reluctantly meeting Aemond's gaze. "Can we try?"

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand now trailing back down your neck, slowly caressing. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

You nod fervently, gripping onto his wrist. "Positively. Now that I understand you better, I can think of no one else I'd like to teach me such things...."

He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, breath hot against your skin. "Then I will," he murmurs, his voice an uneven, ragged whisper, "I will show you. And I will take my time."

Long have you waited for someone to come along and share this experience with you. When you were initially betrothed to Aemond, you thought all hope was lost - he was so frightening and the thought of sharing a bed with him sent a shiver of panic through you.

But now.... Women have desires just as much as men do, surely... At least you know you do. And Aemond is offering to take care of them for you....

You steady yourself with a hand on Aemond's chest, nails digging into the soft cotton of his tunic. "Please.... I want it."

Aemond's stomach clenches, your soft, pleading voice sending a bolt of white hot desire through him.

"Patience," he murmurs, his sizeable palm laid against the back of your hand on his chest, "I'll take care of you, I promise. I just need you to relax for me, all right?"

"Mm, I'll try...." With another nod, you take a deep breath, shuddering at the feeling of Aemond's big hand covering yours entirely. "Maybe a drink would serve to relax me better...?"

This gives Aemond pause, and he pulls back slightly, his eye raking over your face, taking in the soft blush on your cheeks, the way your lips are parted as you catch your breath.

He gives a single, slow nod. "Yes," he admits, "I think a drink might help."

Without another word, he moves to a small table on the other side of the room, pouring you each a generous glass of sweet wine.

As he does so, you finger the pendant at your throat, a gift from your late mother. The way Aemond looks at you; any woman would be lucky to have a husband who looks at her that way. Like you're precious, like he would do anything to protect you.

Once offered your glass, you take it and swallow a large mouthful, hoping to get drunk as quickly as possible, to make this whole ordeal more bearable.

Aemond watches you closely, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sees you gulp the wine so quickly. He knows you're trying to get drunk, trying to use the alcohol as a crutch to make this easier.

"There's no need to rush," he says quietly, taking a seat beside you again, his knee bumping yours. He lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured drink.

Swallowing another substantial mouthful of wine, you furtively watch the way Aemond's lips purse around the rim of his glass.

You smooth the skirts of your dress down, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be as relaxed as possible for you, Aemond."

He continues to watch you, that striking violet eye taking in every tiny detail - the way your fingers grasp the fabric of your dress, the soft movement of your body underneath the silk.

He takes a deep breath, his eye watching you as he drains the last of the wine from the glass. "I know," he murmurs, his voice a husky rumble, "but there's no need to get completely drunk, my love."

"It can't hurt." You upend the first glass of wine, draining the last dregs, and hold your glass out toward him. "Another?"

Apparently highly amused, Aemond raises a brow, but refuses to pour you another.

"I think that's quite enough. There's no need to be quite so drunk tonight, I promise."

You pout, setting your glass aside, but starting to feel a pleasant warmth wash over you from the first glass all the same.

"How do we start?" You question, leaning in close to him. Aemond smells of chamomile and sweat and.... maybe just a hint of blood? It's the best thing you've ever smelled.

Aemond reaches for you suddenly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you gently onto his lap so you can straddle him.

The next breath he takes rattles through him as you settle on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, heart beating fast. "We.... we start here," he whispers, his voice a rough murmur.

"Goodness," you breathe, hands curling over his shoulders to steady yourself. "And.... what do we do here?"

You're trying your best to be brave, and the wine is making it easier, but there is still that niggling worry at the back of your mind, chanting blood blood blood.

Aemond feels that slight tremble in your hands as you grab his shoulders, the way you hesitate and swallow nervously as you ask your question. He can practically hear your thoughts racing, paying attention to the fear and trepidation in your words.

He leans in close, hands slipping from your waist to bracket your ribs, pulling you flush against him, your body cradled easily in his lap. "We start like this," he murmurs, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to look at him. "Just like this."

Slowly, fingers gentle but firm on your chin, he's bringing you in for a kiss.

The sound that leaves your mouth at the first dry press of your lips together is embarrassing. You curse. "I'm sorry." You bite your lip hard, searching Aemond's one violet eye for forgiveness. "Can we try again?"

Aemond chuckles good-naturedly, hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow, gentle patterns over your cheeks.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, leaning ever closer to you, his breath hot against your lips. "We can try as many times as you like, darling."

With a hand again around his wrist to steady yourself, you don't have far to go, what with Aemond's face so close to yours. You press your lips to his - soft yet firm. Your other hand slides up the outside of his thigh as you open your mouth under his, grateful for his willingness to teach you.

You hear Aemond's breath hitch again as he feels your hand moving up his leg, the touch of your slim, soft fingers against his body sending a shiver down his spine. He groans as you open your mouth, his tongue immediately seeking yours, tangling, tasting, claiming.

He grips your hair in one hand, angling your head back so he can deepen the kiss, his other hand back to gripping your hip, pulling you tighter against him.

You do the same, hands migrating down, loving the feeling of Aemond's slim, strong muscle under your fingers. As you kiss, you surreptitiously move the thin cloth of Aemond's tunic aside so you can touch him skin to skin over his sharp hipbones.

This earns you a keen inhale from your husband, who jerks away from you.

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "Is this okay?"

His mouth has opened in a gasp against yours, eyes squeezing shut.

When they open again, he merely looks at you, taking in the soft, pink flush of your cheeks, the way your pupils are thoroughly dilated, your chest heaving. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yes," he says ruggedly, his voice a scratchy gasp, "I'm sorry, it is. It's okay."

A flood of warmth washes over you, and you grin. You don't know why, but you want to kiss his neck.

Fingers digging hard into his hip, you lean in, nosing his long hair out of the way as your lips meet his neck, sucking and biting. Aemond tastes clean and faintly of rose water.

Aemond's head tips back immediately, giving your lips and teeth free reign over his neck, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh at the unfamiliar sensation. A soft, low moan escapes him as your mouth traces a path along the sensitive skin of his neck.

His body arches against yours. "My love," he gasps, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, "this is maddening."

"Need you to teach me," is your reply, pushing harder against him. "Don't go mad just yet."

He runs his hands down your sides, skimming over the soft, silky material of your dress, his body reacting powerfully to your closeness. "Gods, woman," he gasps, thumbs playing idly along the edge of your ribs, "are you sure you haven't done this before?"

You rest your cheek on Aemond's shoulder, nose brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. "Positive," you sigh, arms now slung around him. "But I like the way you touch me. It's making me feel all hot and wet.... down there."

At this declaration, Aemond makes a noise you've never heard anyone make before. He nuzzles against your collarbone, pressing slow, hot kisses along the line of your chest just visible over the collar of your dress.

His mouth is starting to curve into a wicked smile. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"

With a nod, you begin to pull the folds of your dress up over your thighs. "Please. The feeling down there, it's.... very insistent." And Aemond's fingers look perfectly long and warm and rough with calluses.

Aemond swallows hard as he watches the fabric of your dress retreat up over your thighs, the soft, bare skin of your legs suddenly exposed to him. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail - the soft, pale flesh, the way the candlelight casts shadows over the curves of your body.

As though trying not to startle you, Aemond runs his knuckles painstakingly slowly up the inside of your thigh. "When we were first betrothed, I knew I had gotten lucky."

That drunken haze still hovering around you, you let your legs slip further apart around him. "Lucky? How so?"

His hand moves further up, touch feather-light against her skin. "Lucky," he murmurs, "because I knew I'd be marrying the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms."

He lets his hand move higher still, fingers stopping just before they reach the edge of your smallclothes. He pauses, looking intently at you, the question plain on his face.

"I never knew you thought I was beautiful...." You lean more against him, feeling impossibly safe and comfortable in his embrace. "Please. You can."

Hips canting forward, you try to push his hand in toward you.

"The most beautiful," he replies. He can feel your hips moving subtly against his, feel his own desire rising with every move you make.

Those long fingers hook into the edge of your smallclothes, running the backs of his knuckles along the sensitive bit of skin he finds there.

Your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his gentle fingers finally scooping up under your dress making your stomach flip nervously. "Please." The word is uttered against Aemond's chin, where you've pressed your lips as you wait to feel his hand where you need it most.

As slowly as he an manage, he insinuates those fingers fully inside your smallclothes. He can feel the heat of your skin, the way you squirm in his lap as he moves closer to his destination, his own body reacting strongly to the anticipation.

He leans in, mouth finding yours in a heated, hungry kiss, his fingers finally, finally touching that wet, sensitive flesh between your thighs.

A sharp inhale accompanies the meeting of Aemond's hand to your sex. Everything down there feels so wet already, you suppose you should be embarrassed, but the wine is making it hard to feel so, which you're grateful for.

"Aemond...." Seeking his lips for another kiss, you mutter, "please don't stop."

One long finger sinks into your wet, hot flesh, his entire body shivering at the feeling of you beneath his hands. He lets out a ragged gasp as you kiss him, mouth moving fervently against yours, tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with yours.

With a low, gruff noise, he starts to move his finger inside of you, slow, gentle circles that make your muscles tighten and twitch against his hand. "I won't," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut, "I promise, I won't."

Aemond's finger has slid easily into you, all the way down to the knuckle. "Is it -?" You gasp, glancing down, tugging your skirts out of the way to see better. "It's inside? I thought it would be much more painful...."

You know it might not be the same with his manhood, which is surely a fair bit bigger than one of his fingers, but you're glad things have gone smoothly so far all the same.

Aemond's other hand presses itself solidly against that little bundle of nerves, the one you're familiar with, the one that makes you see stars, and you bite his lower lip a little too hard in response.

"Shit, sorry."

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your reaction, his lips curving into a smile against your mouth. "No need to apologize, sweet girl," he mutters. "There's a possibility it might hurt more than this when we go further, but I promise I'll be gentle."

He moves his finger in and out of you slowly, his other hand still pressing against you, the pad of his thumb circling that swollen bud, his touch gentle but firm. "How does this feel?"

A pang of fear shoots through you at his declaration that you will likely be in pain later on, but it's soothed by the way Aemond's fingers are gently coaxing themselves inside of you and over your clit.

"It feels perfect, Aemond. I never even knew it could feel this good." Not even when you'd touched yourself in bed at night.

Aemond's eye darkens as he hears your words, the sound of your voice, gutted and breathless, making his stomach clench. "This is just the beginning, sweet girl. There's so much more I can show you."

He slips another finger into you, feeling your body tighten and go taut around him, his own body still reacting powerfully to the sight and feel of you. He leans in to kiss you again, his mouth hungrily claiming yours.

With another finger inside, you start to squirm in his lap, and your hand slips, colliding with something hard inside of Aemond's trousers.

"Aemond," you gasp, "it.... it's hard."

Aemond lets out a strangled noise as your hand brushes against him, his body shuddering, his eye squeezing shut. "Ah, shit, sweetheart," he gasps, his breath ragged, "Don't do that."

He looks at you, his breath coming in quick, rough pants, his eye darkened to a deep, intense violet. "I'm going to be patient with you."

He says this like he's trying to convince himself of it.

"I'm sorry," you gasp again, hands flying to your mouth. "I didn't mean to touch it...."

Gaze flickering to the windows, to the Targaryen flags flying from every turret, you stifle a smile. "But maybe.... maybe you don't have to be so patient...."

Aemond growls at your words, fingers slowing their ministrations over you. "How impatient would you have me be?"

You reach down to take his free hand - the one currently touching your clit in nice, soft circles - in yours, lacing your fingers as you lean into him. "Still gentle, just.... Maybe lead me? Show me how things like this should be done."

Aemond can practically feel his self-restraint slipping at your words, the feeling of your small, soft hand in his making his head spin. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to maintain control, to keep up the facade of gentility.

He grips your chin with his free hand, lifting your face to meet his eye, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks, the question almost pained.

"I am. I'm sure." You wrap your shoulders around him, burying your face against his neck. "Take me to bed and show me, please."

Aemond swallows hard, the feeling of your breath against him sending a shudder through him. Lifting you easily in his arms, he stands silently from the settee.

The loss of Aemond's fingers from inside of you makes you whine, clinging to his broad shoulders as he makes his way to the bed.

He lays you gently down, crawling over you, hand once again trailing up the soft expanse of your thigh.

"Aemond...."

A sweet noise rumbles through him as he positions himself on top of you, body pressing you down against the covers, hips slotting between your legs. His gaze as he looks down on you is fiery, eye raking over your body, hands gripping and kneading the supple flesh of your thighs.

"You drive me mad, do you know that?" He murmurs. He leans down to kiss your neck, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

With Aemond on top of you, you reach around to tug the back of his tunic up, skimming your fingers along the warm skin of his lower back.

"Why did you never.... tell me before?" You mutter quietly, nibbling at Aemond's earlobe.

Aemond allows himself a deep moan as you touch him, your fingers roaming over his skin, your mouth on his ear. He rolls his hips against you, the aching hardness of his body weighing you down.

"Gods, I don't know," he gasps, his hands roaming over the soft curves of your body. "Maybe I could tell you were afraid of me. Maybe I was a fool."

"I suppose we both were fools." You curl your tongue around Aemond's ear, teasing.

His hardness is pressing insistently against you through your clothes. Aemond leans his forehead to yours. "I'm going to take your dress off now. Is that alright?"

You've never been naked in front of anyone before, but Aemond is making you feel so safe that you nod hurriedly, sitting up. "Yes, please."

Aemond's eye darkens at your nod, his hands immediately going to the laces of your dress, working them loose until the fabric falls away from your body. He lets his gaze roam over your exposed skin, his fingers tracing the soft planes of your body, reverent and gentle.

"Seven Hells," he mutters, his voice a ragged whisper, "I've never seen anything so perfect."

The wine allows you to feel comfortable enough to stretch out over top of your discarded dress, staring up at him over the swell of your breasts. "Don't you want to touch your perfect wife, Aemond?"

"Of course I do," he mutters. He moves aside only slightly, letting his fingers scrape over one of your hardened nipples. "I want to touch every part of you."

You arch into his touch, his fingertips hard and callused against your sensitive nipple. "Aemond.... Would I be a complete whore if I asked for your fingers back inside of me?"

"No," he mutters easily, a hand running its way down your body, the other holding himself above you. "No, you wouldn't. But I want you to ask for it, my love. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."

Your breathing quickening, the air in the room thick and heavy, you spread your legs around him, unabashed. "i want you to touch me. To touch my stomach, my hips and thighs .... my cunt. Please."

Aemond makes a ragged noise at your request, his body shuddering as you open yourself to him. He trails his hand lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach, trailing over your hips and thighs, before coming to rest between your legs.

He lets that hand rest on your for a moment, feeling your wetness, his violet eye dark and full of lust. "Is this what you wanted, darling?"

"Yes," comes your voice, wrecked, entire body feeling overheated and overwhelmed already. "Gods, Aemond, I.... I'm sorry I didn't ask for this earlier."

You run your hands up Aemond's toned arms, tugging on the short sleeves of his tunic. "M-May I take this off?"

Feeling you tug at his tunic, Aemond nods, loving that ragged and pleading tone in your voice. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can see the raw, pleading look in your eyes, and he's never been more turned on in his life.

By way of a real answer, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt to rip it off over his head. He shakes his hair out majestically, making you giggle.

But after that giggle.... You can do nothing but lay beneath him and stare. His body is perfect, abs cut into his skin above the smooth, narrow line of his hips.

"Goodness ...." You whisper, fingertips prodding at his hardened stomach. "You're.... actually perfect."

"Perfect, really?" He replies, clearly perplexed. "I'd say I'm looking at perfection right now."

You whimper, Aemond's moist lips once more at your neck, his body pressed to yours. "How do you.... get your body to look that way? Maybe you can teach me that too, as well as how to ride a dragon."

Aemond laughs softly, his teeth scraping against you as he kisses down your neck. "It's actually quite simple," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, arms caging you in against the bed. "Just a lot of sword practice and fighting."

He pauses, his lips trailing teasingly over the line of your jaw. "I'm going to teach you to ride more than just a dragon, my love."

"I could sword fight." Your voice doesn't sound like it ever has before. "Easy. Train me."

You gasp at his words, nails now digging into his back. "And what else are you going to teach me to ride, husband?"

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your response, his muscles coiling where your nails dig into his skin. He rolls his hips against you and makes you gasp.

"I can teach you how to ride me," he mutters, his voice a rough, ragged whisper. "Or maybe you'd like a ride on my face."

Your eyes go wide, and you press him away by the shoulder just so you can look him in the eye. "I.... I'm allowed to do that?"

You've never heard of this - using your mouth? Why have you never thought of it before?

"Of course you are," he murmurs, looking bemusedly down on you. "And I would be more than happy to let you."

His hot breath whispers over your skin as he leans to speak into your ear. "You've never heard of it before, have you?"

"I haven't." You tilt your head, fingers tender along Aemond's jaw. "How should I.... How do I do it?"

Aemond's eye closes at the feeling of your fingers, tender on his jaw, your touch ever gentle and caressing. He makes a very small noise and shudders over top of you. "It's easy, darling."

"I just lean back here...." With one swift movement, Aemond rolls and settles himself against the pillows. "You come up here...."

Gentle but insistent hands guide you, pulling you all the way up. "And swing a leg over me."

Still helped along by his strong hands, you throw one knee on the opposite side of Aemond's head, bracketing his ears with your thighs. "Like.... this?"

This position makes you feel as nervous as you have all night, even with the aid of the wine - Aemond can see all of you. Truly all of you, and you can't quite meet his eye because of it.

Aemond's hands tighten on your thighs, his breathing growing ragged. He can sense your nervousness, the way your muscles are tensing up, the way you're avoiding his eye.

He rubs his hands soothingly across your thighs, trying to relax you. "That's it, darling." His voice is soft, comforting. "You look gorgeous."

You bite your lip, carding one hand through Aemond's alluring silver hair. The other you place over his good eye, the hint of a smile on your face as you mutter, "Don't look...."

Aemond smirks, and yanks you suddenly, roughly forward by the backs of your thighs, so that your womanhood is directly above his smirking lips. "As you wish."

He places a single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit and the suction, the wetness, of it all is enough to make you squeal.

There's one poignant moment where Aemond's intensely hot, wet mouth rests over your womanhood. Then, with a jagged moan, he begins to lave over you, lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem.

His callused palms cradle the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue works you over. And when that same tongue points itself deep inside of your core, you can no longer keep your hand over his eye, lest you want to smash your husband's head painfully into the sheets.

Instead, that hand flies to the headboard, holding on for dear life. "Gods, Aemond! I.... I've never felt anything like this, what.... what in the seven hells...."

Aemond redoubles his grip on your thighs, keeping you in place as he works you with his tongue, his mouth and teeth and lips bringing you to new heights of pleasure. He moans roughly, and the sound reverberates through you, making your mouth fall open.

"Just... relax, my love," he mutters against your folds, "I did say I would worship you, did I not?"

You nod, still petting a hand gently through Aemond's hair, coiling your fingers around the strands, feeling how soft it is. Your eyes, however, are trained on the gilded ceiling when you answer.

"Y-You did, but.... this.... I didn't even know this was a thing people did. Is this.... common?"

"No, sweet one," he mutters, his voice thick with desire and - somewhere - a hint of disdain, "it isn't common. Most men see their wives as something to be claimed, conquered. And I...."

"You see them as something to be worshipped," you answer, remembering his words from earlier.

Aemond lets out a low chuckle against you as you knot your fingers in his hair, his tongue continuing to lathe across you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips and chin glistening, a smirk on his face. "Look at me."

You do, and are rewarded with his fingers climbing the insides of your thighs, splaying themselves over you. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."

The sight of his face, so slick with you, his eye dark, his sapphire glinting, his fingers roaming over your thighs, it all makes you shiver, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.

"And you," he continues, voice muffled against your folds, "you taste divine."

And without another word, he dives back in, his tongue delving into you once more, his hands gripping your thighs, bringing you lower, closer to him.

All of this - Aemond telling you how beautiful you are, his talented mouth on you, the haze of the wine moving through you - has you tumbling toward the edge quicker than you've ever done so by yourself.

"Aemond.... close!" You give a hard tug to Aemond's hair, warning him.

He closes his eyes as he focuses on nothing more than bringing you further to the edge, the heat of your body and the taste of you driving him wild, pushing him to give you more, more, more.

"Just.... let go," he mutters against you. "I want you to let go for me, my sweet."

You're trembling now, hips riding down against his face of their own accord. "Oh, gods...." You've never done this in front of anyone before. What will Aemond think of the way you climax? Will it be embarrassing? "Aemond...."

There's no longer any time to think it over, though, as one last swipe of his tongue sends you spiraling with a loud cry.

Aemond's heart is pounding hard, watching you cum, his eye wide and alight with desire as he watches your body shudder and shake above him, your cry of pleasure filling the room and, undoubtedly, the hallways around it.

He helps you ride out the wave of pleasure, his tongue slowly bringing you back down, peppering your thighs and hip bones with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Your eyes fluttering, your chest heaving, Aemond coaxes you through your first climax with him and then maneuvers you down to lay beside him. You feel so boneless, you sure you aren't much help in this endeavor.

"That was...." You don't even have the words to describe what just happened to you.

Aemond watches you closely as you lay beside him, breasts rising and falling heavily, your skin flushed and marked all over with his mouth, one hand trailing lightly over your stomach. The sight of you, well-loved and satisfied, makes his chest burn with desire.

He leans in close to you, curling his body around yours like a protective shield. His mouth trailing over your neck, his voice a quiet whisper. "That was beautiful. And we're only getting started."

You gaze at him out of half-lidded eyes, your body already feeling drained from just one round. "What...." You stifle a yawn behind your hand, trying to hide it. "What's next?"

Aemond laughs at the sight of you yawning, both hands now brushing over your body, his touch gentle. He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, hear the tiredness in your voice.

He leans down and presses a loving kiss to your forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready for more yet, my love. You look like you're barely awake."

Through your tiredness, you whine, "But you promised to show me. What it's like...." You're pressing sleepy kisses to Aemond's jaw, lips sweeping down over his neck.

Aemond's lashes flutter at your tiny kisses, his arms curling strong and protective around you. He makes an odd noise, and you realize you may have had an orgasm, but he never did.

"I can take care of it for you." Searching down below, hands clumsy and heavy with sleep, you feel Aemond grab for your wrist.

"And you will," he mutters, admonishing. "But tonight it's getting late, and you're tired. We have our whole lives together, we need not rush this."

Another yawn overtakes you, and you snuggle down into his warmth. "Tomorrow, then?" You mumble, arms slung lazily around him. "And dragon riding tomorrow, too...."

Aemond chuckles again at your insistence, hands gently rubbing themselves over your body, comforting you. He shifts back on the bed, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible.

"Of course, my love," he murmurs, his voice a gentle, soothing rumble in your ear. "Tomorrow. And dragon riding, too. But for now, you need to sleep."

Aemond runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your back, just along your spine.

"I really am sorry, Aemond...." You're already half asleep, struggling to stay awake, to get the words out. "D'you really forgive me?"

Aemond sighs.

"Of course I forgive you," he whispers, breath tickling your ear. "It's all in the past now, my love. The only thing that matters is you and me, right here, right now. And dragon riding tomorrow, I promise...."

[quillsandcravats]

Little Words | Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader

Summary: A cosy, loved-filled evening at My Cottage turns into playful chaos as you and Benedict try to coax your baby's first word, only for your mischievous little one to sneak into his father's art studio. Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!wife!Reader Rated: PG Warnings: none really, this is tooth rotting fluff!, domestic bliss, Benedict makes a suggestive joke, babies/parenthood, no-Sophie!AU Requested: Yes/No Author's Note: Thank you so much for this request! It was so cute and fun to write!

The evening enveloped you in a comforting warmth. You were settled into the soft cushions of the couch at My Cottage, wrapped in a cozy knit quilt, as snowflakes gracefully fell outside. The room was filled with the comforting scent of black tea mingled with the aroma of the honey scones you baked earlier. Your baby son was nestled between you and your husband, Benedict, who was reading to him, making the little one coo with contentment.

Benedict, the ever-romantic artist, was reading from a collection of Shakespearean sonnets to both of you.

"My dearest, mightn't you consider that he would find something a bit more…spirited to his liking?" you queried, observing as your little one chewed on the corners of the book.

Benedict flashed a knowing smile, gently grasping your son's tiny hands. "Ah, but it is never too soon to be introduced to the ways of love. Charlie, my boy, will be quite the catch with the ladies, you shall see."

Your baby babbled joyfully, tiny fingers wrapping around Benedict's much larger one, as if signaling a pact with his father. You could only let out a resigned sigh, recognizing the inevitable lifelong competition that lay ahead.

You and Benedict had both been eagerly anticipating the moment when your son would utter his very first word. The two of you had playfully debated whether it would be ‘Mama’ or ‘Papa’…or perhaps something entirely unexpected.

Gazing down into your son's deep blue eyes—so strikingly similar to his father's—you began to gently encourage him. "Mama, can you say…Mama?" you urged.

Benedict, not one to be outdone, joined in with a playful grin on his face, leaning over to engage in some friendly competition. "Papa! Say…papa! How could you not say papa? I carried you across the lawn just this morning when your little legs couldn't manage it!" he exclaimed, speaking in full sentences as if little Charles could grasp every word, full of affection.

Charles giggled and babbled in his adorable baby voice, yet he hadn't picked a side to settle on. He squirmed out of your laps, lifting his hands to indicate his desire to crawl. You gently placed him on the floor, understanding his strong urge to explore. He wobbled towards his beloved hiding spots, inviting one of the games you enjoyed playing with him. His pudgy legs and arms carried him behind the table and then beneath a chair.

He was giggling wildly, his laughter echoing through the living room as you and Benedict joined in the game, feigning exaggerated confusion in your search for him.

“Oh no! Husband, wherever could our son be? Perhaps we have lost him forever!” you exclaimed, widening your eyes and placing a dramatic hand over your heart. Benedict, standing beside you, stroked his chin with mock seriousness, his fingers brushing over the faint stubble as though he were contemplating with a full beard.

“Ah. Well, perhaps we need to make another one,” he mused with a sly grin. You playfully swatted his arm with the back of your hand, shaking your head and laughing, unable to maintain the pretense any longer. You marveled at how Benedict's eyes sparkled whenever he talked about fatherhood. The thought of introducing a new little sibling for Charles had been a dream you had quietly nurtured, envisioning more tiny feet pattering around the house.

You turned to him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Perhaps we do," you murmured, stepping a little closer to him. Your hands glided up his strong shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt, and your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, gently twirling the soft strands of his hair.

He leaned down, his breath brushing against your cheek, unable to resist as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. "You know," he whispered, his voice laced with a teasing tone, "making the baby is the fun part…"

A soft laugh escaped your lips. "Well, easy for you to say, Mr. Bridgerton," you retorted, shaking your head with amusement. "I don't recall you being the one who was miserable for nine months," you added, your eyes sparkling with mirth as you playfully nudged him.

You spun around, your heart skipping a beat as you realized Charles had completely slipped out of sight. Anxiety crept in as you and Benedict exchanged worried glances, both of you instinctively starting to search the sitting room.

“Charlie?” Benedict called out, his voice carrying a hint of concern as he crouched down to peer beneath the piano-forte. The thought struck both of you that Charlie might have toddled off down the hallway.

By the time you and your husband tracked him down, he was happily ensconced in Benedict's art studio. Blue and green paint was smeared across his pudgy little fingers, and a perfect baby-sized handprint marked his forehead. He was sitting amidst the scattered tubes and brushes, giggling with delight.

Benedict sighed in resignation, though a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth revealed his amusement. Without hesitating, you bent down and lifted Charlie into your arms, unfazed by the oil paint now staining your dress. Tenderly, you wiped a streak of green paint from Charlie's nose. At that moment, Charlie's bright eyes flickered between you and Benedict, a joyful grin lighting up his face.

"Mama," he giggled.

You gasped, your eyes lighting up as you showered his tiny face with a flurry of kisses, not caring about the smudges of paint left behind on his cheeks.

Benedict placed a hand over his heart with theatrical flair, his face twisted in mock agony. He then turned to Charles, a playful glint in his eyes. “Betrayed!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with exaggerated woe. “In my own home! By my own flesh and blood, he has forsaken me!”

You spun around, a playful laugh escaping your lips, as Benedict bent down, his lips brushing gently against your temple. His eyes sparkled with affection as he turned his gaze to his son, a proud smile stretching across his face. “You made a good choice, my boy,” he said, his voice warm and approving. "Indeed, she reigns supreme within the hierarchy of our family, does she not?"

Together, you and Benedict attended to the delightful yet mischievous little one, joining forces to bathe him in his modest silver tub. Unlike the typical gentlemen of the ton, who might never deign to assist their wives in such domestic endeavors, Benedict was different. He took great joy in being as involved as his duties permitted, cherishing these moments with his little family.

Once Charles was changed into a pair of warm, footed pajamas, you all nestled under the soft quilt on the bed, with him snugly resting between you. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow a few candles.

“I know he cannot sleep in the bed with us, but I don’t want to place him back in the bassinet,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath as you ran a gentle finger along Charles’s smooth, rosy cheek. It was astonishing to think that your love with Benedict had brought this tiny, perfect being into the world. You then rested your head on Benedict’s broad shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his steady breathing.

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss on your head before brushing your hair back with a gentle hand. "I never dared to imagine such happiness could be mine, y/n. Not in my wildest dreams, not ever.” he murmured, his voice full of sincerity.

Sleepily, you traced your fingers across his hand, feeling the warmth and reassurance it offered. “We built this happiness together, my love,” you replied softly.

Benedict’s smile widened as Charles let out a contented sigh in his sleep, his tiny fist gripping a handful of his father's soft cotton shirt. Benedict’s heart swelled with joy, and his smile only grew as he noticed you had drifted into a peaceful slumber as well.

[peachglazewrites]

hear me out. user using safe word while doing it with abby?? like what abby's reaction would be??

one shot maybe?? smth like that

𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: abby/f!reader 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: tlou typical violence, smut (18+ mdni), use of words like cunt/tits, use of safeword, panic attacks 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: established relationship, angst, fluff, use of pet names (honey, baby, pretty girl) 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘: no use of y/n or reader descriptions, in canon world 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 4.6k

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After a rough patrol, you come home to your girlfriend to try and take your mind off things. Unfortunately things don't go to plan.

a/n: thank you so much for your request!! I spent a lot of time thinking about how I wanted to go about this, and found that this was the most comfortable for me personally to write, as well as fit how I think about Abby!

I hope you enjoy ♡︎

̗̀➛ master list ̗̀➛ request your own here

Screeching. Clicking. Hurried footsteps on asphalt. Gunfire.

Your heart is beating a mile a minute, adrenaline thrumming through your system. Your rifle feels heavy in your hands, the weight of it slowing you down.

Don’t look. Don’t fucking look.

The croaking snarl sounds so impossibly close, practically right in your ear.

Shit. Just keep running. Oh god just keep—

A rock, a piece of rubble, your own foot, you don’t know what it is, but you trip on something. Your legs give out under you, rifle tumbling from your grip and clattering against the asphalt as your hands fly out to catch you. The fabric of your cargos rip as you skid, your cheek grazing and cutting on the jagged rocks beneath you.

That guttural clicking doesn’t stop, even when you do. It gets closer and closer, and you scramble on your hands and knees, reaching for your gun. Your fingers barely graze the butt of it, just one more push and you’ll have it.

But you can’t move, not any further. Not when the clicker chasing you has fallen on top of you, pinning you to the ground.

A cry rips from your throat, ragged and gasping and please somebody help—

Multiple gunshots rip through the air, so close it feels like your eardrums might explode. The weight on your back gets heavier as the clicker slumps forwards, head overgrown and expanded with fungus knocking against the back of your own skull. The final, gasping croaks sound right in your ear, hot rancid breath puffing against your cheek.

Fuck, that was so close. Too close.

You want to go home.

⸙

Medical clears you within the hour, one of the medics cleaning up the dirt and grime from your cuts and grazes. You get given a change of clothes and some pain meds to take home, and you end up throwing out your old clothes that are ripped and caked in blood the second you have the chance.

This day has felt so impossibly long. Your body aches, your cheek stings, and your head is pounding. The walk back to your apartment feels too long, the stairs too tall. You just want to be home, sit down, see--

Abby smiles at you as you walk in, looking up when she hears the latch catch on the door. It’s a small thing, soft and affectionate, the way she always greets you. “Honey, hey.”

You feel the ache leave your bones at the sight of her, hair loosely tied back, faded book in her hands. A smile of your own works its way onto your face, unable to hold it back when you’re around her.

“Hey, baby.”

She rises from the sofa, walking over to meet you at the door where you’re kicking off your muddy boots. She holds her arms out for you, hands instinctively finding your hips to pull you in.

That smile of hers falters when you turn to face her, a calloused hand coming up to gently grasp your chin. She tilts your head to the side, thumb brushing just under the graze on your cheek.

“What happened here?”

Bringing a hand up to cover her own, you pull it from your chin. “Nothing.” You bring her knuckles up to your lips, pressing a light kiss to the skin. “Fell out of the truck when we pulled in.”

Flashes of the chase, your fall, the noise of the clicker dying on top of you make you pause, breathing out a trembling breath against Abby’s knuckles. You shouldn’t lie; you know out of anyone that Abby would understand what it’s like to be out there. But you don’t want her to worry, to stress about you more than she likes to.

You look back up at her, pushing the memories of the patrol back.

The corner of Abby’s lips ticks up, just for a second, but you can see the way she’s biting the inside of her cheek. You roll your eyes. “Go ahead.”

Her lips split in a teasing grin, the hand on your hip sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer to her chest. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I know that look.”

She chuckles, a low sound that sends a wave of goosebumps down your arms. “Can’t I find your lack of coordination even a little bit funny?”

“Nope. That’s… spousal abuse, or something.” Despite your grumbling, you let her guide your arms to wrap around her shoulders, linking behind her neck.

Abby’s eyebrows raise, eyes crinkling as she smirks at you. “Spousal, huh?”

“Shut up,” you huff, pointedly looking away. She laughs, thumbs swiping soothing arches across your back as she holds you close.

“Seriously though, you’re okay?”

You look back to her, watching her eyes track the graze on your cheek, a few scabs but mostly just rough skin. You nod, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss to her pouty lips.

“I’m okay. Just a shit end to an already shitty patrol,” you sigh, bumping your forehead against hers, eyes closing. “I want to just sit down and relax tonight, get my mind off it.”

Abby hums, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before straying to the side, gently kissing over your bruised cheek. She moves lower, warm breath fanning across your neck as she noses at and kisses the sensitive skin of your throat. You tip your head to the side, threading a hand in her hair as you pull her closer. It feels nice. Exactly what you need.

The two of you stand there, bodies gently swaying side to side as Abby kisses across every inch of skin she can see. The pounding in your head fades away, replaces by a pleasant buzz that has you clinging onto her tighter, breathing heavier.

She kisses back up to your lips, capturing yours once more before pulling away, smiling at you. “Do you want a drink?”

“A drink would be so good, right now.”

You pull her in for one last kiss before you untangle from each other, Abby breaking off to rummage in the kitchen for two glasses and a bottle of… something. You pad across the carpet and down the steps, sinking down on the sofa where Abby was sitting. The spot is still warm from where she was all curled up, book laying face down on the armrest, Frankenstein.

“Here,” Abby offers, leaning over the back of the sofa to hand you a glass. You lean up, lips pursed as you take it, smiling when Abby leans down to kiss you sweetly.

“Thanks, Abs.”

You take a sip of the amber liquid in the glass, hissing through your teeth as it burns down your throat. You hold the glass above your head when Abby comes round the side of the sofa, dropping herself onto the cushion next to you, jostling you. The liquor in her own glass threatens to splash up the side from the movement.

“Careful, babe,” you laugh, watching as she brings the vessel to her lips. She takes a much longer sip than you, and you find yourself getting warm as she licks the remnants from her lips.

Abby slings one of her arms along the top of the sofa, and you take it as an invitation to snuggle into her side, nursing your glass in your lap. Her hand comes down to rest lightly on your shoulder, thumb sweeping and massaging the tense muscles under her fingers.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips at the feeling, and you tilt you head to rest against her chest to give her more access. “Feels nice.”

Abby hums, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re real tense. Patrol that bad?”

You nuzzle further into her chest, melting under her hands. “Had to take down some infected out by the highway,” you murmur, blinking away the image of your gun just barely out of your reach. “Nothing crazy, but more eventful than usual.”

“M’sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You press a kiss to her chest. “Just glad to be home.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence; Abby taking occasional sips from her glass as she massages along your shoulders, while yours lay forgotten in your lap. You could fall asleep here, listening to the thumpthump thumpthump of her heart beneath your ear, feeling so warm and comforted and taken care of.

“You know,” Abby starts, voice low. Her heartrate picks up a bit as she swallows, running a finger along the rim of her glass. “I can think of a more effective way of getting rid of all that tension.”

Something hot simmers low in your gut as you blink your eyes open, shifting your head to look up at Abby. She’s looking away, eyes focused on her nearly empty glass.

“You propositioning me, Anderson?”

A smile curls her lips, and her beautiful blue eyes flick down to yours. It feels like the air has been punched out of your lungs as you look at her, freckled face so lovely and close to your own.

“And if I was?” She tilts her head down, the tip of her strong nose brushing against your own.

Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips as your gaze drifts down to hers, full and begging to be kissed. “Then I’d be asking why you aren’t kissing me already”

She surges forwards, the hand massaging your shoulders sliding up to cup the side of your face, pulling you to meet her in the middle. You can’t help the small moan that leaves you as she licks into your mouth, already feeling like putty under her hands from the massage and her soft lips.

You shift in your seat, pressing yourself impossibly closer as the kiss deepens, sharp huffs of breath leaving your noses as you get carried away.

You forget about the glass in your hand, still mostly full of liquor as you bring a hand up, intending to wrap it around her neck to tug her down atop of you. Instead, the alcohol sloshes up the side of the glass and spills in your lap, the cold liquid seeping into your pants.

“Shit—” you hiss, pulling away from Abby. You frown at the dark stain in your lap, the stinging smell assaulting your nose as it soaks through the fabric and wets your thigh.

Abby snorts, looking down and laughing at the wet patch. “Damn, didn’t know I affected you like th— ow!”

“Shut up,” you huff, smacking her arm. “This feels so gross.”

You reluctantly pull yourself from Abby’s arms, holding your glass out in front of you as you rise. “Pass.” You nod to her own glass, practically empty, taking it from her as she holds it out to you.

You place the glasses on the coffee table a couple of feet away, wiping your wet hand on your already wet cargos. Yuck. You’ll have to take them off.

A smirk works its way onto your face, a teasing idea wriggling at the back of your brain. You turn back to face Abby but make no move to walk back to over.

She’s made herself comfortable since you moved, arms hooked over the back of the sofa, thighs spread wide, taking up space. The sofa isn’t huge but can comfortably fit the two of you. With her spread out like that, though, there’s really only going to be one spot for you to sit; and the smirk on her face shows that she knows that.

She’s watching you intently from her spot, blue eyes raking over the lines of your body. She shifts subtly in place, hips twitching.

Neither of you say anything, sitting in charged silence as your hands drift to the hem of your shirt, fiddling with the material. Abby notices and locks right in, watches the way you thumb at the fabric, how you bunch it in your fists. Even as you pull up, dragging the fabric over your head where you can’t see her, you can feel her eyes on you. Never straying.

You drop your shirt onto the floor next to you, discarding it to reach for your hips, fiddling with the button of your damp cargos.

Abby is positively transfixed, shifting in her seat as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes are boring holes into your hips, watching with bated breath as you pop the button and slowly slide the zipper down your fly. Her hands grip the back of the couch, the veins in her biceps pulsing, chest heaving with deep breaths as you shimmy the fabric down your thighs, stepping out of them when they drop around your ankles.

“Fuck,” she whispers, hooded eyes dragging up your bare legs and across your torso, pausing for a few moments on your chest. She finally meets your gaze once more, the heat behind her eyes making you throb.

“If you don’t get over here…”

You laugh softly, biting your lip as you pad your way back to her. She unhooks her arms from the back of the couch, reaching out for you the moment you’re close enough to drag you onto her wide lap.

Your arms wrap around her neck as you descend on her, lips locking, her large hands roaming. They can’t stay still, rubbing up your thighs, kneading the fat along your hips, dragging up to palm and tease at your tits. She’s devouring you whole, and you can’t do anything but thank her for it.

She pulls from your lips with a groan, placing hot, wet kisses down your jaw and throat.

“Abby—” you moan, tilting your head back to stare at the ceiling, chest heaving with your heavy breaths.

You feel her smirk against your skin, nipping teasingly as her large hands drift down, gripping your hips to roll them down against her own.

“Oh fuck,” she grunts, mouthing hotly at the swell of your chest as you grind against each other.

You need to feel her-- get your hands on her. You ball and scrunch at the back of her shirt until you can reach the hem, pulling desperately to tug it off. Abby pulls away from you for only a moment, just long enough to rip her shirt over her head and throw it behind the sofa. She’s back on you in an instant, the skin of her chest pressing against your own.

You can’t help but sigh at the feeling of her bare back under your fingers, gripping and digging your nails into the skin littered with dozens of tiny scars. Her muscles roll and shift under your hands, and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of the feeling.

“Baby—please,” you begin to whine, the slick slide of your wet underwear against your cunt as you thrust against her making you want more.

“Okay, pretty girl,” Abby shushes, kissing back up your chest and throat. One of the hands on your hips slides down, across the bare skin of your thigh, coming to settle between you to cup your damp cunt. “I’ll take care of you.”

A gasp tears through your throat, ragged breaths panting out from between your swollen lips as she rubs teasingly slow through your underwear. She has you squirming in place, nails biting the skin of her shoulders as you try oh so desperately to grind yourself down on her thick digits.

Abby just chuckles, a low teasing sound that makes you even wetter as she keeps her tortuous pace, capturing your lips to quiet your whining moans.

When it grows too much, when not even her perfect lips can keep your pleas and whines in, Abby slowly begins to sit up, using her large hands to manoeuvre you how she wants.

“Doing so good, honey,” she murmurs, rearranging you on her lap and guiding you to lay face down on the sofa, shifting so that she’s kneeling behind you.

A flutter of nerves unsettles your stomach as you rest your cheek to the cushions, the blossoming bruise on your cheek scratching along the worn fabric. You swallow them back and blink your eyes shut, a moan tumbling from your lips as Abby palms at your ass, hooking her fingers in the waistband of your underwear.

“This okay?”

You nod, responding with another soft moan as she slowly peels the fabric from your cunt, the air cooling along the wetness sticking to your thighs as the fabric falls to your knees. You feel so exposed, hips angled up like this for Abby to see-- but you can’t ignore the way you clench around nothing at the thought.

Her fingers are warm, thick as they slide through the folds of your cunt, dragging slick wetness up to your swollen clit. You jolt as she brushes over it, gasping a choked breath when she begins to rub slow, teasing circles around it.

You begin to feel breathless, like you can’t pull enough air into your lungs, but you can’t find it within you to care when her fingers feel so fucking good, and you need her to fuck you right now—

It’s like she can read your mind. You feel her shift behind you as her circles tighten, holding your hip in place as you squirm and thrust against nothing. Teasing laughs reach your ears before she finally, finally slides her fingers down where you want them.

Abby is never aggressive with you. Her movements, even when rougher than some, never mean to hurt or harm. Not once have you ever been worried or scared or fearful of your safety in the arms of this woman.

But when she presses a hand to your shoulder, drapes her body over your back to pin you to the couch as she works you open, it raises alarm bells. Loud ones.

You start to panic.

Your breathing that was already sharp and quick picks up even more, tears welling up in your eyes and blurring your vision.

“A-Abby—” You try and call out, but it comes out too close to a breathless whine for her to notice anything’s wrong.

“Abby, s-stop— Abby, red! Red!”

Abby pulls away immediately, fingers leaving you as she curses, stumbling a bit for balance as she backs right off. You can’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing fully on the sofa, legs trembling as you begin to cry.

“Honey, can you lift your hips up f’me? Real quick, I promise,” she murmurs, voice shaky as she waits for you to reply.

You barely muster up a nod, eyes staring out ahead of you and into the room, tears falling freely and dripping off your nose as you whimper. Your legs are still shaky as you raise your hips, just enough for Abby to delicately slide your underwear back up, covering you.

She slips off the sofa behind you, leaving to grab the blanket off the bed. It’s not the softest thing in the world but is big enough to wrap the both of you up in it, so she drags it over to the sofa where you’re still laying, shuddering and trying to breathe.

“Can I touch you, baby? Just to wrap this around you. You think you can sit up for me?” She’s oh so gentle, so patient as she waits for you to give the okay.

You can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips as she touches you, hands pressed against your bare skin as she slowly sits you up. The touch is replaced by the blanket soon after, wrapped around your entire body and tucked up under your chin. Only your face peeks through, and you’re sure you look ridiculous, but you can’t find it in you to care.

It feels warm. Safe. Like you can breathe.

Abby crouches in front of you, shirt still discarded somewhere behind the sofa, careful not to crowd you. “Do you need space, or touch?”

“Space,” you stutter out, tears clinging to your lashes as you try to shake the feeling of the clicker’s disgusting breath against your cheek.

Abby’s eyes widen, only slightly, but enough to betray the fear she’s feeling as she looks at you; watches the rattling breaths leave your swollen lips as you cry in front of her. Nothing like this has happened in all the time you’ve been together. The two of you are usually so in sync, know exactly what the other needs. The only time anything other than ‘green’ has been uttered by either of you was ages ago, when Abby had to call ‘yellow’ because she got incredibly overstimulated; but that was it. ‘Red’ is new, and way more terrifying than either of you thought it would be.

“Would you like me to get you anything?” Abby asks softly, voice thick but pushing through.

You go to shake your head, to decline, but your mouth feels so dry…

“Water, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

She’s up in a flash, rummaging around in the kitchen for a clean glass, grabbing the jug from the mini-fridge you keep tucked under the counter to pour you a nice, cold cup.

She’s back before you can spiral too far down into your thoughts, offering the frosted glass for you to take. Snaking your hands out from under the blankets, your fingers lightly brush hers as you take the water, pressing it to your lips. The glass is damp and sparkling with condensation, the water nice and cold on your tongue as you swallow down the entire thing.

Abby’s ready to take the empty glass from you when you’re done, placing it down gently on the coffee table with the others.

She doesn’t try and broach what just happened, but she does make a point of sticking nearby. She settles down on the floor next to you, back pressed to the couch by your feet, careful not to touch you. It’s a kind gesture, one that you appreciate in this moment as you try and calm yourself down, focused on getting that disgusting, grimey feeling to leave your skin.

You can’t tell how much time passes, it may have been a few minutes, or maybe an hour, but it’s long enough for you to wet your lips, to call out for her.

“Abby…”

She looks up, twisting her body to check you over. Her eyes are so wide, filled to the brim with love and concern. It’s rare they’re this unguarded, even around you.

“Yeah?”

“Can you— I want you up here. Please.”

She climbs onto the sofa without another word, chest still bare as she sits by your side. She hesitates for a second, unsure of what exactly you need, but you crawl into her arms and she doesn’t need to ask anymore-- bundling you up and securing you in her lap.

The blanket is still wrapped around you, and you tug on it enough so that you can press your cheek sticky with tears to her bare skin, desperate to hear her hear that sill beats beneath her skin.

Thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump.

“Are you okay?” She asks it so quietly that you barely catch it, muffled under the sound of her heartbeat.

“Kind of,” you offer weakly, too tired to lie.

“Did I— I didn’t mean to—”

You press a ghost of a kiss to the swell of her chest, over her heart. “It wasn’t you. Not really.”

She swallows, throat clicking as her hands run soothingly up and down your back through the blanket. “Then what…?”

“Patrol,” you start, blinking as you stare off to the side of the room, the place where Abby’s makeshift bookshelf sits, overflowing. “We ran into infected. There were… so many. All trapped in a parking garage, came rushing out when we rolled the door up.  I was—” Your breath hitches, that familiar burning behind your eyes as tears blur your vision.

Abby pulls you in closer, pressing her lips to the top of your head.

“I-I was being chased by a clicker and I tripped, then it fell on top of me, and I was so scared, Abby. I thought I was going to die.”

Abby swears as her hands move along your body, calloused hand cupping your cheek with so much gentleness that it makes you want to cry for a different reason. She slowly picks your head up off her chest, thumb brushing softly under the scabs on your cheek. She’s frowning, lips downturned, and you decide then and there that you never want to see her look at you like this ever again.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have tried to—”

“Hey, don’t do that,” you interrupt, shaking your head slightly. You sniffle, a couple of stray tears dripping from your lashes. “I didn’t tell you. I thought—I thought I could just forget it happened. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong, Abby.”

She’s still frowning, brows drawn together as she wipes away the tears that mar your skin, hot trails that quickly cool in the air. “I’m still sorry.” She leans in, pressing delicate kisses along your cheek, up to your forehead. “The idea of scaring you, it’s— I hate it. I’m so sorry, honey.”

A hand finds its way out of the blankets, coming up to cup her cheek, the two of you mirroring each other. Abby touches your foreheads together and you close your eyes, sitting and breathing the same air.

“I love you,” Abby whispers.

Leaning up, you press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you too.”

“Did you want to move? Go to bed?” Abby asks, nosing gently at your cheek.

You shake your head, settling back so that you’re resting against her chest once more. “Want to stay here. Do you think… Can you read to me?”

“Yeah, of course. You want to choose something?” Her hands come back to splay against your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of the blanket.

“Could you read from your spot in Frankenstein? I just want to hear your voice, I don’t mind.”

Abby presses her lips to the top of your head. “Course, baby. Let’s shuffle a bit.”

She’s gentle with you as she moves you, shifting the two of you to lay back together on the sofa. You stay cuddled up to her chest, your legs settling between her own as she rests against the armrest, one arm slung across your waist and the other held above the two of you, Frankenstein in hand.

Abby clears her throat, wetting her lips before beginning to read aloud.

“From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation. I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers…”

Your eyes flutter closed as you lay against her chest, feeling the subtle vibrations of her low voice as she reads. It’s soothing, calming-- a reminder that Abby is here and with you.

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but when you wake up a few hours later you’re still on the sofa, Abby’s chest rising and falling with her sleeping breaths. A strong arm is slung over her eyes, the other still wrapped securely around you.

The blanket has shuffled off of you during your sleep, and you try as quietly and slowly as possible to haul it back up, draping it across the both of you. Abby stirs lightly, the arm covering her eyes coming down to wrap around you, almost as if she sensed you moving about and is trying to keep you from straying too far.

You snuggle back down atop of her, kissing her chest lightly before resting your cheek back against it—skin on skin.

Thumpthump thumpthump thumpthump.

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[eevees-hobbies]

Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!

This is a response to this anon request: Hii can i request wind breaker boys : bofurin and shishitoren with a reader that love to flirt and hard to flustered although they tried to do it back? Thank you

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for being my first Wind Breaker request! I feel like we were on the same wavelength because I was planning on doing a flirt fic/headcanon, but you beat me to it! Unshy and bold is how I like to write my readers, too!

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Characters. Not smut but highly suggestive in some parts. Use of the word slut in the beginning background piece, a brief examination of the word and scenarios in which it’s weaponized. If you’re not into that, feel free to skip that part. But I’ve seen what some of you all are into and seen some of those reblogs—you know who you are, so spare me. You’re also a major flirt. Like, you’re at a 10 on the flirt scale. Go, you! Nothing too explicit, but here’s what we’re working with: mention of panties in Sakura’s. Kaji needs to learn to keep items inside of his mouth…unless? Suo intends to punish you so pick a god and pray. Hiragi needs you to chill out…but say more, please. Umemiya is too shy to ask you to call him Daddy (please call him Daddy). Togame tells you what you’ll be sitting on by the end of the night (also mention of alcohol in his). Nirei is a cute little bean <3. Minors Don’t Interact.

As always, I appreciate comments, reblogs, and likes. Requests are as open as my legs are for Haruka Sakura’s dick.

Word Count: 2.8K

Dividers by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Background: How You Got Here

You’ve always hated the word ‘slut’

It’s not that you wouldn’t personally consider yourself one. Depending on your ideologies, reclaiming the word can feel liberating and you find that to be true for yourself. 

You consider yourself to be naturally flirty, sexy, bold, and charismatic. You can also be a bit of a tease and have slut-like-tendancies in the bedroom, so, sure, a slut. And for the right person or people, if you’re feelin’ nasty, you’re willing to be whatever they want you to be. 

You’ve just grown to hate the word because slut is often used to mischaracterize a woman that men often can’t understand. 

They can’t, or choose not to, understand a woman who is vocal about who she wants and how she wants it. 

They call women sluts who do the chasing.

They call women sluts who fuck on the first date. 

They call women sluts who don’t fuck on the first date. 

The word slut has lost all meaning.

Patriarchy issues aside, this wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t also have a mouth on you. So when some low-life-loser cat calls you from across the street, asking if you got a man and then calling you a slut because you chose not to answer in front of his five loser friends, you turn around and yell, “Sorry, buddy! Experiencing disappointing sexual experiences isn’t on my bingo card for tonight!”

“What the FUCK did you just say to me?”

And contrary to what some may say, you aren’t fucking stupid. You know what happens to women when a man hates them and decides that you’re the object of their rage.

So, you often find yourself running in situations like this. Running until your lungs are about to explode and the only thing keeping you going is adrenaline and the fear that that word—and your mouth—might get you snuffed out. 

You’re looking over your shoulder as your assailants close the distance, painfully aware that this can’t go on for too much longer when you collide with someone’s chest. Strong hands grip your arms, anchoring you in place. 

You look up, expecting to see one of the men from the group but you’re instead taken aback by the stranger in front of you. He seems like the kind of boy you’d let call you a slut—-his close-mouthed smile disarms you, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you’re almost certain he’s someone you can trust. You don’t have too many options right now, anyway!

His tassel earrings swing as he raises his head from looking down at you, and his eyes follow the sound of running feet emerging from the alley. 

“Oh? You look like you could use some help. Stand over there for me?” He tilts his head when asking you the question, but part of you feels like he’s not really asking, so you nod and watch with bated breath as the young man methodically mows down every one of the men. 

Afterward, he turns to you, pristine and perfect, “I can’t let you walk home alone after that.”

“Sure,” you say, taking his outstretched hand. What’s your name? I have to know the name of the person who just saved me.”

“Oh, I guess that’s a fair point. My name is Hayato Suo. It’s nice to meet you despite the circumstances.”

It’s not long after that event that you fall into the protection of the Bofurin & Shishitoren men; your natural charisma quickly gets you in their good graces and earns you a special spot among their ranks. You give off mascot vibes—if mascots were cute and didn’t have gigantic, scary bodies!

Hanging out with them means being yourself without experiencing judgment or retribution. Your laid-back persona and flirting are met with laughs, blushes, and even sometimes flirtation in return. You’ve never felt more at home than with them. 

Haruka Sakura

Flirting with Haruka Sakura is like flirting with a brick wall; either he notices and chooses to ignore the situation as his face turns a crimson red, or he’ll yell at you for being a pervert in public. And both of those reactions are equally cute, so when one day you’re sitting at a booth at Cafe Pothos—-with Sakura, Suo & Nirei—-you decide that this is the perfect environment to get him riled up.

You gently knock your shoe against Sakura’s, which earns you an eyebrow twitch as he continues to shovel food into his mouth. Oblivious as always. 

You do it again to prove that it wasn’t an accidental nudge. Sakura’s eyes shoot up to yours, frantic because this is something you would do. His eyes are met with your innocent smile and subtle shoulder shrug.

As you all continue eating (excluding Suo, who enjoys a cup of tea), you gradually move your foot up his leg until it rests between his thighs. Sakura is trembling like a leaf, eyes darting between the faces of your friends, who could very well notice that you’re trying to get him to play footsie under the table. What if they notice? 

The meal concludes; Suo and Nirei exit the restaurant, and you and Sakura linger for a bit. Part of you hopes that he’ll call out your behavior, but he’s doing his best eye-avoidant routine. As you rise to leave, Sakura stops you, grabbing you by the hem of your sleeve and pushing you into the last booth at the back of the restaurant, where the line of sight is blocked.

Sakura climbs on top of you, your bodies crammed into the leather booths in a way that feels deliciously intimate. His hands are holding your arms at your sides, and his knee settles in between your thighs—and you are now more than ever painfully aware of how high your skirt has bunched up as his knee is dangerously close to brushing up against the seat of your panties. 

“Y-you can’t control yourself in public, can you!?” Sakura practically spits out. He’d sound angry to anyone else, but that’s not what you see in his eyes. 

You look up at him, mesmerized by his vulnerability and the proximity of his well-placed knee. "Do you want me to stop, Haruka?”

He again avoids eye contact with you, but the way he bites his lip gives him away, “No, I-i didn’t say that.”

Akihiko Nirei 

“Have you added anyone else to that book of yours, Nirei?”

Nirei beams at you. You’re one of the few people who takes an interest in the compendium of facts and stats he’s collected about the others. He flips through the pages and starts pointing out information he’s added since you’ve last spoken.

You nod along, taking a genuine interest in what he says; you barely notice your hand moving up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks tinge pink, and he stutters as he continues to read to you.

After he’s done hyper-fixating, a comfortable silence sits between you.

“What do you have about me?” you say, leaning closer to him. You’re teasing him; you don’t exchange blows like the subjects in his journals, so there’s no practical reason for him to collect information on you. That’s what you think until he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a small notebook with your name on the front. 

“I-i uh have the basic demographics, but uh…still need the more personal things like your favorite color and food.”

“What about my bra size?”

“B-bra….” The pencil in his hand snaps, and he looks everywhere but at you. “I uh… s-sure! I’ll take that if you’d like me to!”

You laugh; you genuinely find him endearing. “I’m kidding! We haven’t even had our first date yet, Nirei!”

He looks at you, pulling out a new pencil from seemingly nowhere. “Well, once I find out what food you like, I’ll add the anniversary date of our first date here, too.”

Ren Kaji

Flirting with Kaji feels dangerous, but you do you, friend. You, as an individual, and the way compliments flow easily from your lips makes Kaji uncomfortable, and he admittedly doesn’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you gives him the time of day. It isn’t until you somehow become closer that the absence of your flirting with him sets off blaring alarm bells. 

Are you ok? 

Who did this to you?  

Who does he have to kill?!

As you thumb through the vinyl at your local record store, you feel a bump against your shoulder. You look up and see your favorite platinum blond guard dog; his headphones are settled around his neck, heavy metal pouring from the earphones. His piercing gaze is a clear indication that you might be in trouble. Oops. 

“You mad at me or somethin’?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Mad? Why do you think that?”

“You haven’t been pestering me lately, and it feels…odd.”

You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, even with the round sucker placed snugly in his mouth. 

“Ohhhhhh, no, Kaji! I was giving you a break, but if you insist on flirting, how about-”

“Shut up,” he pulls the sucker out of his mouth and presses it against your lips, watching as you purse your glossed lips and kiss the candy. Neither of you breaks eye contact; an unspoken threat between you dares the other to yield first. His eyes narrow as you poke your tongue out and stroke the sides with intentional, slow licks.

“Tch!” he turns quickly, marching away from you. Despite his back being turned, you can tell by the way his arm raises that he’s now placing that saliva-soaked sucker in his mouth. 

Hayato Suo 

Suo might be one of two people on this list who might be a worthy opponent for you. How do you flirt with someone who is perpetually unbothered? Good question! I see your flirting as back-and-forth quips, playful jabs at one another that get increasingly sexual and oddly specific throughout the day.

If you meet up with the group and one strand of your hair is out of place, Suo chirps, “Bedhead, huh? What were YOU doing last night?”

If you see Suo break a sweat after an intense fight, “Wow, Suo! You really need to work on your stamina. I can imagine a few ways to help with that.”

Sure, it’s all in good fun, but there’s a sexual undertone to it all; between the smiles and sarcastic comments, you’re both participating in your special version of foreplay, and you have never been more turned on. 

Everyone around you thinks you should get a room, and as sunset approaches, you two do exactly that.

“Ready to work on that stamina, Suo?” you chide as you push him against the wall in your apartment. You know you’ll pay for man-handling him later, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

His earrings sway back and forth from the force, but he gazes down at you with smoldering ruby-toned eyes. Every smart-mouthed remark you’ve said that day replays in his head, contributing to his desire to make you atone for your brattiness.

“Yes, Y/N and I promise I won’t let you out of bed with your hair a mess like I did this morning.”

Hajime Umemiya

The complexity of Hajime Umemiya should be a case study. You’ve witnessed his laid-back nature as he jokes with friends, and you’ve seen the scary side of him that bubbles over when anyone threatens those he’s closest to. 

You’re truly attracted to both sides, but when it comes to you and the way you tease him, running manicured nails through his gelled hair and scratching gently at his scalp, he’s putty in your hands.

One of your favorite ways to experience Umemiya is meeting him in his element: his garden. It allows you to bond with him, and he often shares information about his life. Somewhere, Sugishita is biting his fist. 

“Big brother,” you whine as you plant okra, “am I doing this right?”

Umemiya’s eyes widen, and he looks at you across the garden. In what feels like seconds, he’s kneeling in front of you, your hands cupped in his own. “Y-you can’t call me that!”

You blink, confused, “you tell everyone to call you that.”

“I don’t want YOU to call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird when someone you…like…calls you big brother. It’s worse than being called a friend!”

You snort, but when you meet his eyes, you quickly straighten. Oh! He’s serious! 

“So, not into me calling you big brother even during our ‘private moments?’ What about ‘Daddy?’ How do you feel about that?”

He laughs loudly—not because he thinks that was especially hilarious—but because you just make him nervous. 

“You can call me Hajime or…’my boyfriend?’ Yeah, let's stick with my boyfriend!”

“Not Daddy?”

“I won’t stop you! Now, how about that okra???”

Toma Hiragi

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Hiragi’s simultaneously rubbing a knot out of his neck while chastising you. You found yourself in an all too familiar situation, running errands when a drunken man approached you and began to hurl “that word” in your direction when he didn’t find your reaction to his advances to be appropriate: same shit, different day.

As you were looking for an escape route, Hiragi rounded the corner and snatched the man by the collar—it was almost comical to see the drunkard's feet dangle feverishly off the ground. With a scowl and a threat from Hiragi, he was stumbling off.

You sigh, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Hiragi. But something on my forehead must read, ‘fuck with me’ because this is becoming a common occurrence.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbles, “I just find myself worrying about you too much. Might give you my jacket to keep these creeps at bay.” 

Before the last syllable leaves his lips, he’s stuttering and trying to walk the statement back, “I mean uh…or any Bofurin jacket! We have boxes of these somewhere! Not mine, per se.”

You smile, placing a hand on his toned bicep. “I’d love to wear my protector's jacket.”

You need not say more. He removes his oversized jacket and places it over your shoulders. The smell of him and the warmth he left behind makes your heart flutter. You give him your best grin, “you know you’re never getting this back, right?”

“See? A pain in my ass. With a mouth like that, I’m goin’ to have to teach you how to fight.” 

You lean into his arm, “With a mouth like this, you might have to teach me more than how to fight.”

“Jesus.”

Jo Togame 

Jo Togame is the other person on this list who’ll give you a run for your money when trying to flirt. He may seem turtle-adjacent, but his rebuttals to your flirtation attempts are quick. 

You’ve been shooting Togame smoldering glances for the entirety of the night, and even though Shishitoren men surround him, he’ll catch you looking, give you a lopsided grin, and then turn his attention back to the group,

You lick your lips. The draw of his signature sweatpants, black, loose-fitting tee, and Shishitoren jacket is doing something to you. 

And maybe it’s because you’re on your fifth shot of mystery concoction, and the music they’re playing at the house party makes you feel bold and think that what you’re about to do is a good idea. 

With all the courage you can muster, you walk up to Togame. He tilts his head in your direction, but you can see amusement in his jade-colored eyes.

“Took you long enough. Thought you were never gonna get tired of starin’ at me.”

“Dance with me!” you yell over the music. You can feel everyone in the group sizing you up and waiting to hear how Togame responds. 

He puts his beer down and takes your hand. You pull him to the center of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been constructed. You allow the music to move you before you can talk yourself out of whatever is happening. Togame puts his hand on your waist and allows you to grind against him and to the beat. 

“You like the idea of making me nervous, huh?”

You stand on the tips of your toes to get as close to his ear as possible, “You caught me! Is it working?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No because I know exactly how this night is going to end.”

Your heart picks up a bit as his hands slide down from your waist and rest above your ass.

“How?” You squeak.

“With you grinding just like this on my dick.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he presses his lips against yours, his kiss hot and hungry. 

Your eyes flutter closed, and you agree that this night will likely end how he prophesized.

[stamp-it-to-me]

a 2014 South Korean stamp released for the Year of the Sheep (aka Year of the Ram)

[ID: a postage stamp with an abstract illustration of a sheep's head. the sheep's nose, eyes, and ears are defined by simple lines while the rest of the sheep is made of up of broken curly lines. the face value of this stamp is 300 South Korean won. end ID]

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hi jazz! How are you? can I have some actor levi please 🥹🥹

I was re-watching AOT again and realized how much I missed seeing him💔

A Sure Thing (Levi x F!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Actor!Levi Ackerman x Model!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: When you begin catching rumblings (HA) of your famous-actor boyfriend flirting with his co-star during the filming of his new movie, you begin to feel insecure and helpless to your suspicions. Lucky for you, your man knows a thing or two about Hollywood and how to make you understand that he is yours and you are his.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); No Titan AU; BF!Levi x GF!Reader; Famous Couple AU; Hange is Here Too lol; Jealousy GF Trope; Arguing; Insecurity Comfort; Daddy Kink; Mirror Sex; Facesitting; Levi Is A Munch; Deep-Dicking; Sex Against the Window; Spanking; Mild Choking; Creampie; Mutual O; Reader Cums 2x

Tag List: @madamechrissy

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for the request & for your patience, Anon!! I truly hope you enjoy reading this! I loved the idea of a Hollywood couple trying to keep their relationship strong despite all the shit that comes with fame + I'm a romance whore lol. I hope you like it! -Jazz

*************

You have never felt more lonely sitting in a room full of people until now. 

Especially since this room is full of so many movie moguls that you don’t personally know or haven’t heard of.

Actors, upcoming and seasoned, scriptwriters, directors and producers, makeup artists, designers, hair stylists, and every other person in the Hollywood movie industry fill the upscale nightclub that was purposely closed off for the night to all who helped with your boyfriend’s movie and those that were personally invited. 

You don’t know why you feel so awkward and out of place. This isn’t the first movie industry party you’ve been to. Plus, the modeling world hosts plenty of parties that you’ve attended for fellow modeling moguls, friends, and fashion launches. And yet none of those logic helps your body relax. You sit rigidly on a plush two-person seat under the purple and pink lights flashing across the room, your cocktail in your hand. 

It’s a margarita. One of your favorites. But you’ve only taken about three sips. The alcohol does nothing to relax you or make you feel any sexier in your pretty, lilac-colored Versace gown, circuit 1995 with a slit at the thigh and draping across your ankles strapped in gold heels. You dressed to impress at this wrap-up party, but all you feel like is a clown. 

You finally have a reason to smile when your beautiful, talented, and sexy boyfriend captures your attention in the room full of people. Like Moses did the Red Sea, he parts through the throng of guests to make his way over to you, giving you that crooked smile that you adore so much. He looks so good in his hip-hugging slacks and the dark purple Armani button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He wanted to try to match you as much as possible tonight. 

Despite Levi’s cool and slightly-restricted appearance, he fucking melts when it comes to you. He wants everyone and anyone to know that you’re a couple. For all of Hollywood to understand that you are together and nothing can come between that…but you’re starting to doubt that. 

“Sorry about that,” he sighs, sitting down beside you. “Fans. They were drunk, so they didn’t take my nos for autographs and pictures as answers.” He rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of his own cocktail: an old-fashioned with Bourbon. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, so glad to have him near. His presence is like an anchor for you. “You’re an actor and you were just cast in a big summer blockbuster. Of course, you’re gonna have fans wanting photos with you.” 

Levi smiles, but his eyes still hold worry. He never liked it when his fans or anything related to his demanding job took him away from you, even for a couple minutes. “So you don’t mind?” You tut, waving one manicured hand with glossy, red nails that Levi stares at a little too intensely. “I never do. I think it’s cute seein’ you interact with your fanbase.” 

“They are pretty cool,” he chuckles. “But I have one fan who trumps all of ‘em by far in the cuteness department.”

He moves a little closer to you, pressing the outside of his thigh against yours. You feel your body grow warm from the contact, wanting so much to slip off his pants and drag your nails across his strong, solid thighs.

“I wonder who that is,” you softly reply, just enough for him to hear and catch the flirty nature of your tone. 

A fire flickers in Levi’s grey eyes that only you notice, but you’re sure that anyone would notice the way he is eye-fucking you if they happen to look over. He places a hand on your back that slyly slides down your spine. You shiver, the fabric from your dress thin enough to feel the calluses of his fingers and the ridges of his rings. “You look fuckin’ amazing tonight,” he whispers. “I’m so ready to take you home.” 

His fingers trail lower, lower, and lower until you feel his hand lay on your ass. Very possessive. Very obvious. “Levi,” you giggle into your drink. “We’ve only been here for 20 minutes. Can’t you push aside your horniness for at least an hour?”

Your boyfriend leans in to toy with your ear, gently pressing his kiss to the space below your ear and your neck. Your weak spot. “For you? In that dress? Fuck no.” 

More giggles slip out of your lips as he lays kisses across your neck, eventually capturing your mouth in a kiss that manages to momentarily steal all of your insecurities away. After all this time, he still is so crazy about you.

You and Levi have been dating for four years now, having started living together in Levi’s high-rise penthouse overlooking Sunset Boulevard a year ago. You’ve even started secretly calling yourself “Ms. Ackerman” because you’re 99% sure that a marriage proposal is on the horizon. 

Levi Ackerman is a name everyone in Hollywood and in the general public knows. He has been an actor for as long as you’ve known about him, having starred in many movies and TV shows over the years. What he lacks in his short stature, he makes up for with his monumental talent, confidence, and looks.

His sharp cheekbones, angular chin, intense eyes, and sleek, black hair caught you the minute you saw him on the big screen…and again when you met him at a boujee-ass café when he was trying to escape the paparazzi.

Your meeting caused quite the stir when the camera crews snapped photos and plastered them all over the internet for people to scream about: Levi Ackerman, famous actor, and Y/N L/N, well-known supermodel. 

You’ve been modeling ever since you were in your teens, posing for department store perfume stores and clothing lines. You got your first deal in your early 20s and since then, have modeled for designer lines and walking in runway shows. You had the money, the status, the connections, the expensive trips, and the luxurious lifestyle. You thought you couldn’t want for anything until you met Levi and suddenly, a new world of possibilities opened up for you…until now. 

Levi’s wandering hands momentarily distract you, pulling you into his body. “You don’t even wanna know what I want to do to you right now,” he softly growls. “What I’d do to you if all these motherfuckers weren’t around…or maybe they can stay.” You place a hand on his thigh, feeling the heat radiating from him. “You’re usually so possessive,” you giggle. “The liquor must be gettin’ to you.” 

Levi gives a soft laugh in your ear that makes your pussy unfurl like a flower and gush. Everything this man does makes you wet. As he busies himself toying with your thigh slit, you turn your head slightly to see if anyone is watching. You immediately regret your decision when your eyes catch the sight of a familiar golden Roberto Cavalli dress. 

The same dress you wore to your last runway show during the afterparty three months ago. The one you took Levi to and it resulted in sex in a limo. Before you stopped receiving work and all the sponsors dried up. Before Levi finished filming his new movie: a historical romance set to hit the screen next summer. 

With his beautiful, popular co-star that you know he has grown ever-so close to. Your stomach drops and you grip Levi’s thigh a little too hard. “You okay?” he asks, worried. “What was that?” He pulls away to look at you, concern in his eyes. 

“O-Oh, I’m fine,” you reassure him. “That dress just looked like the one I wore during my last runway show.” Even you cannot mask the sadness in your tone. Levi’s face softens, his expression serious. “Baby,” he begins, his tone gentle and soft, but his next few words of comfort are stolen away when his beautiful, popular co-star comes waltzing over. 

Yuki Yarborough. Early 30s. Half English, half Japanese. Known for her talent as well as her movie screen-worthy beauty. She has the devastating looks Angelina Jolie and Margot Robbie have with her long, honey-blonde hair, almond eyes, creamy skin, and long legs. Her melodic voice and bubbly personality make her even more of a Hollywood IT girl.  “Theeeere’s my husband!” she squeals. “And you brought Y/N! My favorite Hollywood couple is here to celebrate with me!” 

Lately, for the past couple of months since the filming of their movie, you’ve been hearing rumblings and seeing unwanted tabloids of Levi and Yuki. At restaurants enjoying lunch. Laughing behind the scenes. Snapshots of them filming in beautiful locations, having passionate embraces and intimate moments. The internet has caught wind of these seemingly flirtatious and “too close” moments between your boyfriend and his co-star.

And because you stay online, so have you. It’s stupid. You know it is. Levi always comes home to you despite these rumors. But between this and your last runway show being three months ago with no work in near sight, your insecurities are getting to you and you feel as if you’re about to lose it. You cannot escape your jealousy or envy when you are with Levi at night, snuggled up next to him. 

Jealousy and envy that you feel for Yuki now as she stands before you, beautiful; a blonde beacon of light. All of it claws at you whenever you see a photo of her and Levi laughing together or happen to see her comment beneath one of his tweets or IG posts. You hate feeling like this: this feeling of lost trust, suspicion, and insecurity. You just don’t know how to stop it! 

“Hey, Yuki,” Levi greets, sliding his hand back up to your waist, away from your ass. “Y/N, honey, you remember Yuki?” You fix a smile on your face and nod. “Of course, I do. Congratulations on the movie wrap-up!” 

Yuki gives a haggard sigh. Her blonde waves and strapless cocktail dress are to die for, making your dress feel like a burlap sack. “Ugh, thanks. I can’t wait to shovel cake and alcohol down my throat so I can tell my movie diet to fuck off.” She giggles cutely, entrancing you. And then there she goes, sitting beside Levi, putting him between you and her. 

“Well, don’t you look dapper tonight, Mr. Ackerman,” she hums, nudging him with her elbow. “Definitely a sight for sore eyes, right, Y/N?”

She giggles again while Levi blushes. You try to laugh too, but it sounds forced. Rehearsed. Fake. You sip your margarita in the hopes to calm yourself, but it only makes those creeping negative feelings boil over. And as time passes, and your boyfriend and Yuki talk amongst each other, those feelings only make you slowly steam like stew. 

“Hey, did you hear Onyankopon is here too?” Yuki asks, taking a sip of her champagne. 

Levi’s brows raise in interest. You have no idea who they are talking about. “Really? Didn’t he just come from Africa and Australia filming a safari documentary?” 

“Yeah!” Yuki excitedly replies. “Hange told me she invited him! Oh, and apparently, someone spotted Zoro Rorona. Y’know, that one model?” Levi snorts. “Da hell is here doin’ here? Did he wander into the wrong party?” 

Yuki giggles at his jab, placing a hand on his knee. You gulp down more of your cocktail, feeling the alcohol make your body warm and your brain fuzzy. “Oh, and get this: my designer told me that Mario G’Vanci, that French director, is here too and he’s looking to…” 

It doesn’t take long for you to become the third wheel. You knew that as soon as Yuki sat down that you would be ostracized and cast out of Levi’s little circle. It is so painful to watch him turn all of his attention to her despite his hand on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin. With every peek of Levi’s laugh lines when Yuki tells a joke or every conversation that moves onto someone you don’t know, you feel oh-so alone. 

But when you suddenly see Yuki hand on your man’s arm, it’s about all you can take. 

Quickly, you get up, startling both Levi and Yuki. “U-Um!” you squeak. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” You leave your cocktail with them as you quickly head off towards the bathroom, gathering your skirts to avoid tripping over your dress. You can’t hear Levi calling after you over the music, but even if you did, you wouldn’t dare turn around. Not with the tears threatening to push past your eye ducts. 

You say quick “excuse me”s and “sorry”s to the guests as you push through them, scooting between spaces between bodies until you make it to the bathroom stations. As you’re making your way to the horrifyingly long line for the women’s bathroom, Hange, Levi’s best friend and agent, comes up to you. She looks so different with her chestnut-brown hair, usually in ponytails, out and curled. She has also replaced her power suits and jeans with a turquoise dress. 

“Oh, Y/N!” she chirps, smiling at you, holding a shrimp cocktail. “Darling, where are you off to? My goodness, you look fabulous!” You can’t even manage to give her a fake smile. Your stomach is roiling and your skin is crawling. “U-Uh, Hange, I’m not feelin’ too well.” 

Hange’s smile fades, her brows drawn in concern. “Oh, what’s wrong? Too much shrimp?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you decide even though you haven’t even consumed one single prawn tonight. Your eyes shift to the left and there, you see one of the exits. “Just tell Levi I felt funny and went home. I’ll see him there.” Hange begins to look around for Levi, much to your dismay. “Oh, well let me go get him so he can—“ 

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine!” you quickly spew before you run off in your heels to the exit. You don’t stop until you’re pushing out the club and propelling yourself into the cool California air. You inhale deeply, catching your breath and calming your beating heart. You thought you were about to pass out. 

Quickly, you fish your phone out and send a text to Levi’s personal driver to which he immediately texts back, telling you he is on his way. Then you call Levi and with every ring of the dial tone, your stomach drops further and further into a pit.

And then you hear his voice message: “Hey, this is Levi Ackerman. I’m not here right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. And if this is another one of those scam calls, kindly suck my dick.” 

Of course, it went to voicemail. He is too busy galavanting around the party with his gorgeous costar. You try to push down the lump in your throat as you speak: “Hey, I went home,” you blankly say. “I’ll see you later tonight. Enjoy your party.” 

Minutes later, Levi’s driver pulls up and you get in the car despite the flashing cameras from sneaky paparazzi and Levi’s adoring fans who have caught a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. You only give them a weak wave as you rush into the backseat of the Range Rover and slam the door shut, telling the driver to take you home. He does so without question. 

When you arrive back at your and Levi’s shared penthouse, you walk in, tired and emotionally drained. The place is dark, empty, and still. Perfect for how you are feeling. During the ride home, Levi called and texted you. You didn’t answer any of them. At this point, you have disassociated from everything around you, including him. You don’t want deal with it. You don’t want to think about it.

Is it healthy? No. Is it right? Definitely not. But you just can’t right now. 

So the first thing you do when you walk in, you kick off your heels to soothe your aching feet, toss your clutch on the couch, and make your way to the wine cooler in the kitchen where Levi stores your favorite bottles. You go for the peach Moscato immediately and are just pouring yourself a glass when your phone dings from the couch. After finishing pouring yourself a goblet full of crisp wine and taking a sip, you walk over to your couch to fish out your phone. 

You wish that you never did. And you especially wish you never clicked on the IG notification waiting there for you. You follow Levi, of course, so whenever he is tagged in something, you get notified. And so you’re notified about the photo Yuki posted of him and her together at the wrap-up party. Where her lips are on his cheek. And he is hiding his face behind a paper poster for the movie. 

Yuki’s post reads: “Soooo happy to finally finish this movie after eight months of filming! I’m especially happy to have done it with such a talented and wonderful guy as my co-star Mr. Ackerman is! So honored to have worked with you & played your love interest, Levi. I’d do it again!” 

Your anger and envy is fresh, hot, and ugly. It coils inside of you and up like a snake, threatening to spill out onto the floor. Immediately, you toss your phone onto the couch like it burns and take an angered sip of wine. How dare she? How dare he? 

As if the universe is in the front seat, the elevator to the penthouse dings and in walks Levi taking off his motorcycle helmet. He had no problem using his baby to drive to the party, but insisted you get driven to avoid paparazzi. “Plus, I don’t wanna ruin that dress,” he explained. “You’d kill me.” 

Your boyfriend looks absolutely stricken with worry when he comes in, breathing heavily and his face slightly clammy from the helmet that he tosses aside. “Hey, I came as soon as I could,” he pants, immediately coming up to you. “I’ve been calling you for an hour now. What the hell happened?” 

You don’t even let him get an inch away from you before your phone is being shoved in his face. “What is this?” you hiss. He pauses, taken aback by your tone, and his eyes flicker to your phone before staring back into yours. “What is what?” 

You find yourself becoming even angrier just because of his confusion. He knows what he did. “This, Levi! Her and you!” You shove the phone closer to which Levi takes a step back, scowling at the phone screen. “You’re cuddled up to her like you’re her man. Like you’re her ACTUAL love interest. Just look at the comments!”  

So cute! My parents!! 

Did you guys go to the party together? You’d make a great couple! 

You both are so beautiful! My favorite movie couple!

Levi’s brows narrow at the phone and then at you, his eyes sharp and twinged with hurt. 

“Are you serious?” he asks, genuinely dumbfounded. “Y/N, they’re just comments. And all it is is a kiss on the cheek. Yuki is that type of person with all of her friends.” 

You scoff at his answer and his soft tone as if you’re a crazed animal. “The type to openly flirt with people’s significant others in front of them? And you never said a thing about it!” You slam your goblet down on the coffee table, still gripping your phone. Now Levi’s tone and his expression has shifted, becoming more and more irked with your increasing accusations. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. 

Now you’re really boiling. “I’m talking about you and your co-star!” you snap. “I’ve seen the tabloids. The coffee breaks and lunch dates. I’ve seen photos of you giving her your coat.” You breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you and Levi stare at one another. The entire living room has become a warzone. 

He continues to stare you down, wondering if he should engage. He decides not to. “I’m not doing this,” he huffs and stalks to the kitchen. You watch him go, pissed even more than he’s just walking away. “There is no possible way you actually believe the shit those magazines and blogs put out.” 

You watch as he silently takes a glass from the cabinet above his head and gets water from the fridge. You can tell he is also pent-up from the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps down his fresh, cold water as if he can’t get enough. You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. You should just apologize and forget all about this…but you can’t. 

You put your phone down on the couch, refusing to look at it again. “Listen,” you say, quieter but still firm. “If there’s something going on with you and her, just tell me instead of treating me like I’m crazy.” 

You jump as Levi slams the fridge door shut with a satisfying BANG! He then turns to you, his expression enraged. “Yes, you’re crazy. You’re crazy to buy into the shit these roaches post for money and to think that I would do something so horrible to you and ruin such a wonderful thing between us.” 

You stand there, frozen by his sharp, raised tone. Levi has never gotten loud for you other than in the bedroom. He is usually a man who keeps his cool, but now? You’ve pushed him there.

“We’ve been together for four years, Y/N,” he says, his eyes registering hurt. “You really think I would think so lowly of us to flirt with my fuckin’ co-star?” His grey eyes have rendered you speechless. You can’t find the words to speak. Your mouth feels like it is full of cotton balls. 

Suddenly, Levi lowers his water on the counter and returns to the living room. He reaches into his leather jacket and retrieves a small gold slip of paper. “Here. It’s an invitation to her and her fiance’s wedding this summer. She’s engaged.”

When he hands you the invite, you nearly drop it because your hands are shaking. 

“I…” You can’t bring yourself to say anymore…not with the tears welling up in your eyes. As soon as they push back your eyes, your face flushes and you begin to break out into sobs that destroy your pretty makeup and lashes. “I-I-I’m s-sorry!” you sob, dropping the invite to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Levi!” 

Your boyfriend watches you, crumbling on the inside at your tears. Wordlessly, he scoops you into his arms and holds you close against his warm, solid body. You embrace him back, pressing your nose into his collar. His intoxicating scent of his spicy cologne and body wash of sandalwood relaxes you, making you want to roll in the aroma. 

Before you know it, he is walking you over to the couch and sitting you in his lap, hooking your legs over his. He presses a hand to your cheek, coaxing you to show your teary, mascara-stained face. “Look at me,” he softly demands. You do as you are told, sniffling and allowing your boyfriend to wipe your tears with his thumb. “Talk to me. That’s an order, baby, and I’m not takin’ silence as an answer.” 

Levi has completely entered Daddy mode: gentle and comforting but firm. You stare down at your hands in your lap, shame overwhelming you. “I’ve just been feelin’ kinda…unsexy lately,” you confess. 

“Why?” he gently demands. He asks it incredulously as if you truly are insane. “Because of what?”

You flush with embarrassment. This is so lame. “Because I haven’t had much work lately after my last runway show. Things have just been kinda dry.”

Levi gently strokes your back, his touch soothing you. “But that happens to anyone in Hollywood, baby. I’ve had dry periods before, but work always comes to those who care about their careers.” 

You continue to stare at your hands, not wanting to see the sympathy or pity in your boyfriend’s eyes. You feel pathetic as you sound. “So what’s this about feelin’ unsexy?” he asks. “Is it just because of your modeling?” 

You know it is futile to lie. He’ll know that you are. Levi knows you too well. “No,” you sigh and cringe from your utter humiliation. “It’s also because of your co-star. She’s just so beautiful and perfect and popular and–”

You can’t get the rest of your blubbered reasoning out because suddenly, you are being hiked up and tossed over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

You gasp as Levi stands and storms towards the steps with you in tow, one arm wrapped securely around your waist. “W-What are you doing?!” you squeak, your feet dangling from his shoulder.

You can only watch Levi’s firm ass as he walks up the steps one at a time. “Teachin’ you a fuckin’ lesson,” he growls. 

You feel your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip-flop. You know what that means and you have no time to prepare yourself. All you can do is cringe when Levi slams the door to your shared master bedroom shut and squeak in surprise when he lowers you down onto the king-sized bed.

He doesn’t let you speak or breathe. Instead, he traps you between his arms and swoops in to give you a sloppy, passionate kiss laced with the taste of Bourbon on his tongue and Moscato on yours. 

You moan at the taste and the feeling of Levi’s warm tongue caressing yours. His lips, so plump, warm, and soft, seem to steal every bad thought from your brain. But then he is pulling away and his grey eyes narrow, meaning that this isn’t the time for lovey-dovey shit. “Come the fuck here,” he growls. He sits down beside you and grabs you, forcing you over his lap.  

You gulp as you feel his hand peel your gown up to show your Savage Fenty thong that you purposely wore in hopes of drunk sex after the wrap-up party. You feel him twitch underneath you and it makes you throb. “Levi–” 

“Shut up,” he orders. You immediately button your lip. You’ve really pissed him off. “The only thing I wanna hear outta of that mouth right now are those sounds you make when I spank that ass. I’m gonna make sure you never talk about yourself like that ever again.” 

SPANK! 

You weren’t anticipated the first swat of his hand to be so rough or hot. Fire licks across your ass, only burning more because of his rings. “Ow!” you exclaim. Levi lays his palm down and gently strokes your asscheeks, soothing the sting. “Hurts, right?” he asks. “That’s how I felt when you told me how unsexy you feel. You hurt me to my heart, baby.” 

SPANK! 

You flinch at the second assault on your ass, tears once again springing into your eyes from the harsh feeling. “Don’t you realize how fuckin’ gorgeous you are? How beautiful you are? How many times you’ve gotten me hard just from the thought of you?” 

SPANK! SPANK! 

“So many times I’ve raced to my trailer to fuck my hand to the thought of you,” he growls. “So many times I’ve said your pretty name and came durin’ my lunch breaks. You drive me fuckin’ insane, baby.” 

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! 

Your body feels like jelly and your mind has gone blank from the constant assault on your asscheeks. You are sure that Levi has left handprints at this point with how harsh his hits are and the way your butt recoils against his palm. The pain is just too much…though it does make your pussy wetter than before. “Levi, please!” you squeal. “I’m sorry!” 

Levi pauses, his hand in mid-air. “Sorry for what, doll?” he asks. His cock twitches underneath you, pushing through the fabric of his slacks, desperate to be freed. “F-For talking bad about myself,” you whimper. “For being bad and hurting you. For not trusting you and not being honest with you.” 

Levi’s eyes grow soft as they roam over you, his sweet, talented, beautiful girlfriend tossed over his lap with your ass exposed for him. He thoughtfully strokes your asscheeks, soothing the sting of his spanks. “Oh, baby,” he groans. “That’s such a sweet apology…but it ain’t enough.” 

Gently, he sits you up and pins you to the spot with his intense gaze. “I’m gonna make you sorry. And I’m gonna make you believe and understand that I’m your man, and nothing will change that.” 

You feel your body grow hot with anticipation, excitement, and a little bit of fear. It is a confusing cocktail. “H-How?” you ask, swallowing hard. Your boyfriend gives you a smile full of wicked promises and deviance. “Just watch me.” He looks up to the ceiling. “And watch yourself.” 

You look up too and sure enough, there is the mirror that you begged Levi to keep staring back at you. “What do you–” 

He cuts you off, placing his hand on your chin. “Lemme explain it to you, darling: you’re gonna sit on my face and ride my tongue until you cum. Then I’m gonna finally slide my cock inside of that pretty little pussy and make you cry because I’m givin’ you too many orgasms. And when I do all of that, you’re gonna look dead in that mirror and watch your beautiful self when you cum for me over and over again.” 

His grip on your chin grows tight, forcing your head to be directed at him only. “And you won’t look away. You won’t protest. You won’t dictate. You won’t whine or give me any of those bratty quips. You’re gonna be my good little girl and do as your man says because he knows best.” 

He cocks his head to the side, sizing you up, almost daring you to argue about this. “Am I understood?” You know better than to say anything except for what he wants to hear. Besides, the idea of your boyfriend dedicating tonight to cumming your brains out makes you wetter than you can express. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper. 

Levi gives you a proud smile before he leans in to kiss you, capturing your lips in another longing kiss. You melt into his touch, his kiss, and his scent instantly, becoming a puddle for her. “That’s my baby,” he coos. He then begins to strip, smirking when you stare as each article of clothing is tossed aside. Your eyes indulge in his toned physique from years of movie workouts and lean diets. 

You want to run your fingers and tongue over each rippling muscle. Especially the one swinging between his legs that you consider a muscle by itself. Levi’s dick is by far the most beautiful one you’ve ever seen: long, curved, and two-toned with heavy balls to suck on and the promise of endless ropes of cum near. You can feel yourself gush and soak your thong as he lays on the bed, his thighs slightly open so his cock throbs, pulses, and stands at attention for you. “Now get the fuck up here,” he raspily demands. 

You don’t bother taking off your dress and Levi doesn’t tell you to. You both know that he’ll get it dry-cleaned this week. You just strip off your soaked thong and hurry to sit on your man’s handsome face. 

For the next ten minutes, Levi makes it his personal mission to make you cum with his mouth as you sit on his face. His hands securely grip your hips to keep you steady as his tongue and lips slurp and caress every inch of your sobbing, wet pussy. In this position, he can get everything. All of you. And you can’t run or hide from it. All you can do is grind your hips against his mouth and moan as your sensitive clit is stimulated.  

“Oh, my God,” you moan. “Levi, yes.” Your eyes flutter shut as your head lulls back, staring at the ceiling above. 

“Mmm-hmm,” he appreciatively moans, the sound muffled by your thighs squeezing his face between them. His tongue begins to move faster, flicking against your slit before he slips inside of you, emitting a louder moan from your quivering lips. “Oh, my God!” you wail. “Fuck, Levi, please!” 

Your eyes pop open and you see yourself staring back in the mirror above. Your tits are nearly popping out of your designer dress and your mascara is coating your cheeks, ruined from your crying session earlier. Levi lays underneath you, his hands massaging your ass and muffled moans leaving his lips as he dives into your pussy, joyfully slurping and drinking up all you give him. 

His cock twitches and throbs between his thighs, just out of reach. Your mouth salivates to suck on him and your hands itch to stroke him. Your man just has such a wonderful cock. You begin to reach forward, momentarily looking away from the mirror. “Want you,” you softly whine. “I wanna taste you too, Lee.” 

SPANK! 

You let out a loud squeak as Levi smacks your ass. Hands off.

You whimper out an apology, criticizing yourself for being a greedy slut as your boyfriend continues to indulge himself in your cunt. His pussy-eating is passionate, greedy, and relentless. He has every intention of making you cum. Your hips shamelessly whine and grind on his face, riding it like one would a surfboard, as you feel your orgasm cresting.

“Oh, fuck!” you loudly gasp. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” 

Levi groans in need, his hands massaging the globes of your ass as his tongue moves faster, flicking against your clit while his nose slides across your asscrack. Every part of you is sensitive, including your tits. You massage and grab them yourself, stimulating your nipples as you work your pussy on Levi’s face, chasing your orgasm. 

When you cum, you watch your face in the mirror as you do and every little feature and line that pulls and extends when your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. Your glossy mouth stretches open as strings of moans and gasps leave it. Your tits jiggle as you grind out your orgasm. Your hair has fallen out of its pinned updo, messy and the only evidence of what’s happening tonight. 

You can’t believe how beautiful you look cumming. Is this what Levi sees? When your orgasm finally fades, you slowly peel yourself off of Levi’s face and roll onto your back beside him, breathing heavily. Levi’s face glistens with your juices to which he licks off of his lips. The rest of it he uses the tissues on the bedside table to clean up, dabbing at his chin and jaw. 

As you watch him, you fall deeper and deeper in love with him. Any man who can spend time pleasing you like that is a keeper. “Oh, Levi,” you sigh, smiling. “That was–” 

Your sweet words are cut off when the actor suddenly pounces on you, pushing your thighs apart to show off your pussy, soaked and glistening from your orgasm. He is damn near erratic with arousal, his grey eyes darker and his cock throbbing so much that you can tell it aches. “Not done with you yet,” he hisses. “You still need to understand. Still need to make you understand.” He tosses your legs over his broad shoulders and pulls you into him, making you gasp as his cock kisses your clit. 

You have no choice but to lay there and allow him to take you. You watch as he takes his cock and gently slaps it against your clit, emitting lewd, sticky sounds from the contact and moans from deep within you. “Levi,” you whimper. “Daddy, please.” You can feel yourself becoming desperate, your body aflame with it. 

Levi stares you down with intense adoration, so much so that it makes you blush. “I’ll give you what you need, baby,” he coos. “Just keep lookin’ up for me. Look at the mirror while I fuck into your pretty body, okay?” He presses a hand to your cheek and gently caresses it, his thumb gliding along your bottom lip. 

You press your lips against his thumb, giving him a kiss that makes his cock twitch against your pussy. “Okay,” you whisper. 

That is enough to make Levi damn near feral. As if freed because of your obedience, he finally slides his cock inside of you, drawing a gasp out of you. With his hands grasping the headboard behind you, he begins to slowly grind his lips against yours, drawing his cock in and out of your soft, wet, heavenly cunt that plunges him deeper into heaven every time he thrusts in.

“Oh, my God,” he groans, his gorgeous face etched in pleasure. 

You stare up into the mirror over his shoulder, watching your face and your beautiful boyfriend as he fucks you. You watch yourself grip his firm ass as his hips jut in and out, up and down, and his back muscles contort.

Each passing second makes your eyes blow and your mouth fall agape as if shocked by what you’re experiencing…and you are. No matter how many times Levi fucks you, you will always be shocked by how fucking good it feels. 

When he finally begins to speed up, it is all over for you. You can’t stop your moans from growing louder or your pussy from squelching around his pulsating, pistoning dick plunging in and out of the velvety soft walls of your cunt. Levi is a great fucker as he is an actor, pounding your pussy into the bed like it is his top priority. Your clit feels like it’s about to fall off from the constant stimulation as Levi’s pelvis rubs against it, his movements precise and so mean. 

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. “L-Levi! D-Daddy! Wait, wait, slow down! You’re gonna make me–” 

“Cum again?” your boyfriend chuckles in your ear. “That’s the idea, babycakes. Cum when you want to, but I need you to keep lookin’ at that goddamn mirror. Don’t make me tell you again.” He wraps a hand around your throat and moves his head to the side, allowing you to see yourself in the mirror above as he continues to fuck you. 

“Who is that, huh?” he groans through gritted teeth as your pussy wraps around him, stroking him from his balls to his tip. “Who’s that sexy, pretty girl gettin’ fucked by her man, hm?” 

You can only whimper and whine in pleasure. Words cease to exist. Your mind is blank from Levi’s cologne in your nose and his dick filling you up. His hand grips your throat tighter, causing your mouth to stretch open wider.

“I can’t hear you, gorgeous,” he whispers. “Tell Daddy who that is. Who am I in right now? Who’s feelin’ good and sexy and perfect right now?” 

He fucks you harder, faster, making the bed shake beneath you. “Me!” you loudly sob, so loud that you’re sure the entire world hears it. “It’s me, Daddy, fuck!” 

Shockingly, Levi stops for a moment, but before you can ask why, he snatches you up. “Come here,” he demands as you giggle, delirious from the pleasure and the adoration you feel pouring inside of you. “I usually don’t like people oglin’ you, but tonight, I’ll make an exception.” 

With his cock still inside of you, he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you over to the spacious skyline overlooking the beautiful city lights of LA. Dozens of twinkling diamonds that could be windows of homes, cars, and people. You have no time to admire the beauty because Levi is setting you down and turning you around so your back is to him. 

“Put your hands on the window,” he whispers, his voice making you shiver. “I want everyone to see my pretty woman gettin’ fucked. I want everyone to see who the fuck I belong to.” You do as told, pressing your hands against the cool glass of the window and not-so-subtly wiggling your ass for him in your dress. 

Your body shivers in delight as your man peels your dress up to expose your ass and presses himself against you, slipping his cock out to readjust. “Know that every girl out there is jealous of you, baby. Not ‘cause you’re with me, but because you’re so perfect.” 

When he slips back in, all words are gone for a moment. You share a long, loud, longing moan as his cock settles back home inside of you, filling you up and taking all of your insecurities away with one stroke. “My favorite little supermodel,” he groans as he sinks deeper inside of you. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?” 

As he begins to fuck into you, with one hand on your ass with the other massages one of your titties, you propel into the window and nearly smack into it, only saving yourself with your hands. His cock is just too good. His sex is too wonderful. And all of it is for you. “Fuck, Lee, I love you so much!” you moan, your face pressed up against the cold glass. 

Through his grunts, Levi breaks out into a smile that you hear when he answers you. “I love you too, baby. Let me show you just how much.” 

He then proceeds to fuck you dumb against the window, all for the city of LA to witness. You picture them all in their homes across from yours and walking in the night, happening to look up and see you with your tits pressed against the window as you’re bent over and pounded by your actor boyfriend. When Levi begins to speed up, you frantically rub your clit in circles, wanting so desperately to cum with your man. 

“I’m about to cum, baby,” he warns, his lips at your ear. “You’re gonna cum with me, right? You’re gonna let yourself feel good on my dick, right?” With his hands gripping your ass, you begin to push yourself back into him, fucking him back, causing the sound of clapping to drift in the air.

“Yes, yes, I promise, Daddy!” you whine, unable to keep yourself from unraveling. “Please cum with me! Fill your babygirl up, please!” 

Levi lets out a groan worthy of a porno as he continues to fuck you, the both of you meeting each other’s thrusts as you chase your orgasms together, determined to make each other meet your ends.

When you both cum together, there are no words. They aren’t necessary or needed. Not when Levi is gripping your body tight to him as if you’ll vanish if he doesn’t as he fills your pussy up with ropes of his spunk, loading pump after pump of cum into you until it is dripping down your thighs. 

And not when your pussy is quivering and slipping around him, stroking his length as your orgasm takes over and makes your body shake, leaving nothing but a smile in its place on your lips. 

When your orgasmic high finally fades, you are both full of post-orgasm giggles, heated kisses, and shaky limbs. Levi gently turns your face to his and presses a soft kiss to your lips, ending the rough fucking on a sweet and romantic note. But that’s just Levi. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.” 

You allow your boyfriend to peel you out of your dress and carry you to the bathroom where he proceeds to wrap you up in a fluffy robe that matches his. He begins to run a hot bubble bath for the both of you, one scented with lavender and chamomile to relax you. He also adds in a bath bomb (because he secretly loves them) and applies a few drops of essential oils to the water. 

Once the bubbles are there and the water is warm to the touch, Levi helps you into the tub and sits down with your back against his front. You sigh in contentment as you lean back into his pecs, melting into him when he wraps his arms around you. “So do you believe me now?” he asks. 

Tiredly, you nod, all of what happened earlier almost forgotten about because of how wonderful you feel. “Yes, I do, Levi. Thank you.” You take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles, right on his rings. “And thank you for always being there for me.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tender and sweet. “I’ll always be here for you,” he whispers. “This is a sure thing, darling. Why else would I wanna marry you?” 

THE END.

[fuctacles]

im not sure how your requests go, but a fun snippet to read i think would be steddie who both prefer to bottom, so usually rock paper scissors to decide, or if eddie gets his way, they roll a die. could be fade to black or explicit, i just think the lead up banter would be fun to explore.

I'm sorry it took so long and yet it is so short. But here are the boys being gross about their sex life:

"My ass is so clean, you could drink water from it!"

Steve makes a disgusted face, and honestly, rightfully so. Eddie kind of went overboard with that one.

"Yeah? Well, I used green tea to douche, so my ass is now flavored!"

Scratch that, Eddie has zero shame.

"Give me a glass, and I'll prove it to you," he says, already looking around the room like he's ready to grab the first cup his eyes land on.

"I'm not drinking your ass water!" Steve protests, his eyes wide in disbelief. "It's my turn anyway! Hey, no! Leave my Kermit mug out of this!" 

Eddie falters at the desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest and away from Steve's precious mug. 

"How, pray tell, is it your turn?" he asks, nose wrinkled in irritation. "I fucked you the last time."

"You fingered me," Steve corrects him. "I want your dick."

"And you came!" Eddie throws his arms up. "That still counts!"

"But baby." Steve pouts his lips, spreading himself further on the bed. "I want to get stretched on your big cock."

"No, nope!" His boyfriend slaps both hands over his eyes. "Stop pouting at me, it's not gonna work."

"Only because you're not looking. Look at me, baby."

"No," Eddie keeps protesting, but he can feel his resolve withering. Especially when he hears the ruffle of fabric. 

"I dressed up all for you." 

He can't see it, but the pout, the puppy dog eyes are easy to hear in Steve's tone. 

"Well, I did too," he huffs, and starts undoing his pants, eyes still stubbornly closed. 

Steve sighs.

"You're such a baby," he mutters. Eddie grins. 

"Your baby."

"Unfortunately."

Steve makes a sound, something between annoyance and pain, and he finally opens his eyes. They're both wearing fishnets, but where Eddie went for classic black paired with a jockstrap, Steve has a matching lace set of white stockings and boxer shorts. 

"Where did you even find this?" Eddie asks, his mouth dry. Topping suddenly doesn't feel like such a chore, but he's not going down (Up? On top?) without a fight.

"I can tell you after you fuck me," Steve offers with a coy smile, moving his hips enticingly.

"Yeah, no," he scoffs. "We're rolling for it."

Steve sighs but sits up anyway, reaching into the drawer for the D20 that has become a permanent part of their foreplay.

tags: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[spikezonebby]

this time i do have horny stuff for you. bad month to have the idea in but oh well. I have this strange HC that Cybertronians are really sensitive in certain parts, for example, a Seeker's wing tips, or just any Cybertronian's spark chamber.

So I had this idea. A human builds a device, basically a fucking rose toy but more hidden. Calls the poor test subject Transformer over and asks them to open their chassis, put the device on their spark chamber, and fucking turns it on. Basically its like putting a vibrator on their clit....

Listen Ghosty we don't worry too much about no-nut-november around here. We're around for a good time not a long time. Heads up, this one got away from me.

Sex toys, spark chamber stimulation, and orgasm denial under the cut! Also a little KOBD with Knocks being a menace. Do I also tag pet humans? It's mentioned once. Eh not gonna tag it, it's not worth hunting for if you're into it lol

Now the *spark chamber* being sensitive? Oh that's a fun one. I thought about the spark because duh, spark merging. But the chamber? Kinda makes sense when you think about it because you gotta know when your important internals are being harmed.

The idea of sticking a rose vibrator on one of them though is hilarious lmao imagine if it's someone like Prowl or Shockwave with a huge chassis so they *can't reach it to take it off.*

What are some other Cybertronians with big chassis that wouldn't be able to reach it? Breakdown probably. TFP Predaking? Predaking is hilarious too because he's so HUGE can you imagine him trying to scrape his huge servos over his chamber to knock it off and he keeps missing it?

There's a size element here too because this could be good on *anyone* huge. TFP Megatron with a mischievous pet human that stuck it on him when he was recharging and it's not strong enough to get him off but it is strong enough for him to notice it.

All the time.

For hours on end.

And he's got big servos, he probably can't even pinpoint exactly where it is! Even worse if it's someone who just keeps turning it off and on periodically.

On the note with Breakdown I feel like-- if you follow me for kobd reasons-- Knocks would love torturing poor BD with it. He already thinks the humans have good tastes in horror movies and cars, he can probably appreciate their ingenuity when it comes to sex too. Plus, he seems like the type to think a rose vibrator would be cute. He'd display his sex toys as little art pieces around his room.

So Breakdown definitely gets one stuck on his spark chamber where he can't reach it. Maybe this is Knock Out's way of revving his conjunx up for some rough interfacing that night? On the occasion Knocks does want to get knocked around by BD, he's gotta properly wind him up first so Breaks can just ENTIRELY ruin him.

Or accidentally make BD overload like six times throughout the day. Knocks is having fun anyway.

[jokeringcutio]

Request Fill: Tears ( Grabber x Reader )

AN: There are some Halloween-themed reader-inserts coming up in the upcoming days. Keep an eye on my account if you like my writing style.

Title: Tears Fandom: The Black Phone Pairing: The Grabber (Albert Shaw) x Captured! Reader Rating: Explicit! Warnings: Kidnapped!Reader, Dub-con/Non-con, Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, Mocking/Cooing, use of 'Little One', Belt Whipping, Name Calling (Good Girl), Reader might have a praise kink. This is a prompt fill by one of my top supporters. If you want to show your support, you can always buy me a ko-fi.

The prompt (I also added the items you sent in your later message):

TEARS

The chilly air brushed past your legs, reminding you once again of how vulnerable you actually were. Lying there like prey, waiting for the monster to come again. You hated it, but until you figured a way out, you would have to do with all the lemons life decided to throw at you. Even if they came in the shape of a demonic stranger who hid himself behind masks and depravity.  

You had grown tired of being tied to Albert Shaw's bed, having only an old oversized t-shirt that belonged to him to preserve some of your dignity. You knew that the cloth was a lie, though. Easy access, that was all it was. His hands would roam underneath as easily as breathing.

The cold metal of the handcuffs dug into your wrists as they kept you bound and vulnerable on the soft mattress. A contrast that was as big as your kidnapper’s personality: hot and cold. Evil and kind. An icy chill swept through the room, causing goosebumps to form on your skin and making the hairs on your legs stand on end. You had felt it before, and it usually meant the front door had been opened. He’s home. The thought sent a chill down your spine. Loud barking of the dog confirmed he had indeed returned from walking their round.

You held your breath and listened for the sound of footsteps. Was he heading your way? Or would he go to the kitchen first? The soft mumbles of the man reached you and you assumed he must be talking to his dog. Perhaps you were in luck and he’d leave you alone for a little while longer. But then the door creaked open and in walked Albert, wearing only the upper part of his mask. It concealed the top of his face, but his devil's horns no longer frightened you. What did send shivers down your spine, however, was the sight of his lips and the smirk that played upon them.

He showed off his sharp canines in a grin that spelled what was to come. He wanted to touch you again.

"So, how have you been, little one? Not too scared while I was away, I hope,” Albert drawled, his words dripping with sinister intent. Little, you huffed. He seemed to like to call you that way just to establish some kind of power balance between the two of you.

You tried to keep your breathing calm, though your heart raced like a wild animal caught in a trap. Your eyes followed his every movement, trying to anticipate what he would do next.

“I suppose you can show Daddy how much you missed him,” he continued in that overly dramatic theatrical voice. He moved to the side of the bed and carelessly dropped his cardigan at the end of the bed, just out of your reach. Teasing you.

But you knew what it meant.

His chest was already bare, had been so underneath the piece of garment. He’d never fully dressed after the last round, you realized with a shock.

"Please, don't..." you whispered, but your voice wavered with fear, betraying any semblance of bravery you hoped to display.

Albert chuckled, deep and throaty, sending shudders up your spine. "Now, now, sweetheart. You know I can't resist you when you're all trussed up like this."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and retaliation, even though you knew it was futile. In this room, with Albert looming over you, there was no way out, no hope for reprieve.

As he approached you, you could see the hunger in his eyes and feel the weight of his gaze as it roamed over your body. It felt like a predator sizing up its prey, and you knew that soon enough, he would once again have his fill.

"Let's see how feisty you are tonight," Albert mused, his voice low and grating.

He approached you with a predatory grace, his hands reaching out like tendrils seeking to coil around your body. You hissed and tried to pull away as he ran his palms all over your trembling form, but there was nowhere to go, no escape from his touch.

"Still got some fight in you, huh?" Albert growled, growing impatient with your resistance. His palms slid down your naked thighs, calloused skin brushing past soft flesh. You felt his fingertips as they traced patterns down your sides, down your hips and legs, how his nails raked past your skin.

He moved his hands up and down a few times, admiring you, exploring you. He cupped your breasts underneath the shirt, tweaking your nipples between his fingertips a few times for good measure, having you bite back a moan.

A low growl escaped his throat, but you didn’t know whether it was a sound of approval or annoyance at the way you still tried to resist him. His hands ran down from your breasts, past your belly and to your hips where he got a good grip on you.

“Come on, sweet thing, open up.” His ice-blue eyes stared intently at you through the holes of the mask. His lips were curved upward in a grin full of malicious intent. You realized he wanted you to spread your legs, which you did, hesitatingly.

His one hand sneaked in between while the other pressed down on your thigh, forcing you to keep your legs spread open for him. He rubbed his thumb past your clit, little circular motions that sent jolts of pleasure down your core. You bit your lip in an attempt to keep silent. You didn’t want him to hear how he played you like an instrument, how much pleasure he sparked deep inside. But your walls slickened, so he must know. Your body never allowed you to hide its reactions.

“There,” he whispered, almost lovingly. And again. “There.”

Disgusted by the pleasure he made you feel, you tried to move your hips away from him. Just anything to relieve some of the tension you felt building up inside your core. He was working you towards an orgasm, you felt it. But you didn’t want to give him the pleasure.

Your reluctance didn’t go unnoticed, and with a sigh, he took his fingers from your clit. With a clap of his hands on his knees he pushed himself up into a standing position. Your heart pounded as he slowly removed his belt, the leather slithering against itself like a snake preparing to strike. You knew all too well how much he enjoyed using it on his victims, and fear tightened around your throat like a vice.

"Please..." you choked out, bringing your knees together to protect your precious core from his roving eyes. But your plea fell on deaf ears.

“Now, now,” Albert cooed, “Good girls deserve treats,” he said, swirling the leather band of the belt around his left hand, then pulled at the ends, showing the belt as it stood taught. You couldn’t help but feel how your eyes were drawn towards it. A clear signal that you were in trouble.

You trembled when he took a step closer towards you again. With his right hand, he let go of the belt, so the torturous item was only held in his left. But that right hand – oh. You dreaded to look at how he spread his fingers and then pushed down upon your tummy. His hand slipped lower and tapped against your knee.

“Bad girls need to be punished,” he said, huskily. “Now, open your legs again for me, sweetheart.”

You felt the pressure he gently supplied with his right hand on your knee and did as you were told, not eager to make him use force. As you lay there, trembling, you tried to think of anything but the man now looming in front of your cunt. You could feel his breath pass over your skin. Keeping your legs apart cost you real effort and you knew that he could tell you were trembling from fear. His thumb started to draw small circles on your thigh, effectively keeping your legs spread open with the comforting motion. As if it was enough to appease you.

“Ah there,” as he studied your exposed flower, wet and pulsing for his cock. “What a pretty sight, little one.”

For a moment, you glanced at him through your lashes, thinking that perhaps you had escaped the dance. Perhaps him showing off his belt had been enough; a reminder of a punishment you could have deserved if you defied him any further.

But you were mistaken.

Without a warning, he fiercely pushed your leg down with his right hand, his thumb no longer making soothing motions. Then raised the belt up into the air with his left.

You instantly knew where he wanted to strike.

No. Anywhere but there.

"Tell me you want this," Albert demanded, his left hand still up in the air. You could see the leather of the belt glisten teasingly, challenging you to defy. His knuckles had turned white, the leather straps were circled around them just once. His gaze locked on yours, unrelenting and unforgiving.

"Say it."

You couldn't bring yourself to utter the words, your defiance sparking something dark within him. With a sadistic grin, he struck down. A loud snap and an instant jolt of pain as he deliberately smacked it against your pussy. The pain seared through you, and you couldn't hold back your cries and tears.

"Say it," he ordered, his tone callous and cold. "Tell me you like it." He raised the belt again like a whip and panic seized through you. You struggled against your bonds anew and would have closed your legs if he would have so much as allowed it.

The words didn’t come out fast enough, and so he hit again. Your hands curled into fists and your back arched. The tears welled up in your eyes as an awful cry escaped your lips. Your pussy burned.

“You sweet little thing,” you heard the man coo, mockingly. That demon, you thought, as you tried to look at him through the tears in your eyes.

He fell silent and for a moment, simply stared at you. Just as you were starting to wonder why, a grin twisted his lips. “I love it when you cry,” his voice was low and husky, dripping with arousal. This whole thing got him turned on, you realized with a start. He derived pleasure from your pain. The bastard.

“But you know what?” he asked, voice sultry. You didn’t want to know. Your pussy still hurt and you did not think you could stand another blow. Tears were still rolling down your cheeks, you could taste them. “I love it even more when you take my cock,” Albert said, voice dangerously low.

“Now, I will ask you again,” the warning was clear. “Do you like what I am giving you?” He raised the belt once more, igniting fear deep inside of you. You wiggled against the bounds again but felt his burning hand upon your thigh, reminding you he had no scruples in hitting you once more.

"Y-yes," you gasped out, the humiliation burning as hot as the pain. "I like it."

He watched you, the mask hiding his true expression. But you could feel the anger behind it.

“Daddy,” he sounded furious. The calm kind of furious that made you know not to make any missteps again. “I like it, Daddy,” he said, waiting for you to repeat the words.

His eyes gleamed with depraved satisfaction. The belt was still raised dangerously beside his head. The hand he had on your leg, pushing them wide apart, pressed even harder, betraying his anger.

You bit your lip, your shame and self-loathing warring with your desperation to end the torment. You could try and struggle all you want, but you knew you could not break free. That this man had you. All of you. And he would take all that he craved. Finally, you gave in, whispering the word that sealed your submission.

"I like it, Daddy..."

The belt lowered., but you did not draw a sigh of relief. It was too early for that. Your pussy stung from the hideous slaps he’d given it. And yet, your core felt slick. As if your body actually wanted it. As if he was telling you to say what your body already betrayed. That you wanted it. Him. More.

As if he could read your mind, you heard his low voice grumble. “Tell me you want more,” the low command made you want to curl up into a ball and hide your vulnerable flower from his wicked belt.

“I need more,” you said, a breathless whisper as you finally dared to raise your gaze and look at him fully. He stood there, sweating, panting, obviously aroused. The tent in his pants gave it away.

“Need it,” he sounded pleasantly surprised by your choice of words. Then he dangled the belt towards your pussy, having the leather dip against your slick pussy lips. “Need my cock in there?”

You squeezed your eyes shut in shame and swallowed. A silent nod was your first reply, but you could tell by the way he pushed the belt against your slick core that it wasn’t enough. And so you opened your eyes again to caught his staring, waiting.

“I need your cock,” you said, chest heaving up and down rapidly. “Daddy.”

A pensive hum, voice dripping with lace and sin. “I thought so.”

With your eyes squeezed shut, you could feel it. First, he dipped forth. A warm, wet tongue licked the tears from your cheek.

Then, a low hum.

“Delicious, little one.”

The words made you flinch, though you tried to hide it.

The rough leather edge as it tapped gently against your clit. He was dangling the belt in front of your pussy, letting the leather slip past your sensitive slit, forcing a moan from your lips.

A low laugh escaped him, then he suddenly grew silent.

"Enough," Albert finally whispered, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he lowered the belt. The torment ceased, leaving you shaking and gasping for breath.

He moved closer, cradling your head in his strong hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. His grip was firm, almost painful, but it was the obscenities that escaped his lips that made you feel small and defenseless.

"Such a pathetic little thing," he sneered. "You're nothing without me, you know that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you couldn't turn away from his piercing gaze. You tried not to look down at how he palmed his own hard cock through his pants while breathing heavily. You knew he was right, and it shattered what little dignity you had left.

“Fuck, those pretty tears of yours,” he murmured. You’d forgotten he liked it when you cried, and threw him an angry glare.

His laughter was cold and unforgiving as he undid his fly, exposing his hardened length. He looked down at you with predatory eyes, taking in your bound form, the bruises and welts that marked your skin. The tears in your eyes.

You saw him close his eyes for a short moment, throat bobbing as he swallowed, then opened his eyes again and let out a shivering breath. He studied you while he took his cock in his hand and though you tried not to look down at him preparing himself, you couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his hard throbbing shaft. The skin was already purple, the veins angrily popping out, the head leaking in anticipation. You’d seen him hard before, but never like this.

"Please," you choked out, hoping against hope that some shred of mercy remained within him. But deep down, you knew better.

"Still begging, are you?" he taunted. "You never learn."

"Please don't..." Your voice cracked, fear making it impossible to speak more than a whisper.

"Too late for that," Albert growled, positioning himself between your legs. “In case you’d forget,” here he hesitated, letting the tip of his shaft brush threateningly past your entrance. “You’re mine.”

And then, despite your pleas for him to stop, his hips moved forward and he buried his cock deep inside - another act of dominance, another reminder of his control over you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the pain, the humiliation, the utter degradation. But there was no escaping it, not when he held you so completely in his grasp.

You whimpered as you trembled underneath him, feeling how his length dipped deep inside, how all his ridges and veins stroked your walls and stole your slick. It was just one thrust to bury himself to the hilt and establish his dominance. But as he slowly moved out, you felt it: all of him. It felt ridiculously good. He was hot, warm, rigid, unyielding. His hips moved fiercely against yours, working his way back into your throbbing pussy.

You felt his teeth as he grinned against your neck while his grip on you tightened.

"Oh, that is so good, little one," he breathed against your ear as he thrust into you, each movement calculated to remind you of your place in his world.

He was ravishing you like a man starved. You could feel it, the passion with which he moved his hips against yours and how the head of his shaft battered your insides without mercy, spurting pre-cum along the way.  He slipped from your core way too easily, the way now lubed with a mixture of your combined juices. He let out a laugh, making you flinch for his lips were still near your ear.

“You’re so, so wet,” he breathed, the puff of air sending goosebumps to form on your skin. You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he slid in and out of you smoothly, lubing your walls, hitting a spot inside that made your pussy quiver around his hard cock. At first, when he took you, the pain threatened to consume you, each thrust like a burning dagger inside your already bruised and battered body. But as he moved within you, something began to change – the fear and disgust that had been your constant companions began to ebb away, replaced by a twisted kind of pleasure.

"Fuck... why does it feel so..." he gasped out, and you had to agree. You were unable to comprehend the sensations coursing through you. The agony was still there, but it was being overtaken by waves of ecstasy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without a warning, your walls started to clamp down hard, milking his cock hard and eager, drawing a loud moan from your lips that you were too late to withhold. Your fingers curled above your head, your whole body twisted in the throes of desire.  

And above you, thrusting still, your masked captor grinned down at you. A droplet of sweat fell from his head upon your half-clad chest – the shirt had ridden up to reveal your breasts.

“That’s it,” the words were vague, blocked out by the bliss of your orgasm. You felt how his fingers dug deeper into your skin, how his length kept battering your overly sensitive walls as he worked himself towards his own. His thrusts became erratic, and just when you thought you could take it no more, he slammed inside of you hard and buried himself deep. You felt the pulsing of his shaft and the hot warmth that filled you deep inside your tummy.

You caught your breath, body sensitive around his twitching cock. That’s when you heard it, the whispered words near your ear. You felt Cheshire grin against your neck and felt how the edge of the mask pressed painfully against your cheek.

"You were made for this," Albert hissed, his fingers biting into your hips hard enough to leave bruises in their wake. "You were born to be my good girl, weren’t you?"

His words should have repulsed you, sickened you to your core. Instead, they ignited a spark deep within. Yes, you thought. You felt like you were. Your body was thrumming pleasantly, the afterglow of the orgasm making you feel dozy and warm and – not yourself.

"I know," you admitted, your voice barely audible through your tears. You weren’t quite certain if you said it just to please him and save yourself from his ire any longer. You were too tired at this point to fight. "Daddy."

"Good girl," he murmured, propping himself up on his elbows, cock still softening inside your core. His words echoed hauntingly through your mind. You were born to be my good girl. You were made for this.  

You glanced up at him to meet his blue eyes, cold and hungry and devious. They rested upon you, piercing you, making you feel as small as he always wanted to make you believe that you were. You could see the darkness swirl within them. Something that you couldn’t name. He wasn’t done yet?

“Tell me what you are," he commanded, his voice low and dark, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

"I'm... I'm yours, Daddy," you whispered, feeling his softening cock twitch at your answer. “I am your good girl.”

"Damn right, you are," he growled. And then, as if nothing had happened, as if the world hadn't just shifted beneath you, he leaned down and pressed a soft, tender kiss to your forehead.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle now. And before you could fully process what was happening, he slid down beside you on the bed, cock slipping out of your core with a squishy sound, his arms wrapping around you in a hold that was almost – almost – comforting.

You felt Albert's fingertips tracing the delicate skin of your bare arms, feather-light touches that sent shivers down your spine. His breath caressed your ear as he whispered words you'd never expected to hear from him.

"Such a beautiful girl," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. "Look at how well you take what I give you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the sweet words and gentle touches somehow more terrifying than the violence that had come before. But there was something intoxicating about it too, a heady mixture of fear and desire that made it impossible to look away.

"Tell me you love it," he demanded, his fingers tightening around your arm. "Tell me you need it just as much as I do."

"I-I love it," you stuttered, feeling a flush of shame rise in your cheeks. "I need it, Daddy."

"Good girl," he purred, his grip on your arm relaxing as his lips brushed against your neck. The sensation was intoxicating, overwhelming; your world narrowed down to the feel of his mouth on your skin, the warm breath tickling your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer. "Kiss me."

He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your submission. "As you wish," he breathed against your lips before capturing them in a passionate kiss.

It was a kiss unlike any other, a maelstrom of raw emotion that left you reeling, desperate for more even as you knew you should be pushing him away. But in that moment, wrapped up in Albert's warmth and the sweet lies he whispered into your ear, you couldn't help but feel comforted and loved.

And so you let yourself fall deeper into the darkness, knowing full well that there would be no return.

~ Fin ~

AN: Hope you enjoyed it :) In the days running up to Halloween, I will be posting a few Halloween-themed reader inserts. Some are smutty, some are dark, some or sugary sweet.

[bg3scenarios]

Haarlep: Some people just don’t understand how much work it is to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss AND mansplain, manslaughter, malewife.

Haarlep: I am basically working six jobs here.

[aegonstradwife]

conception | aegon targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aegon have 4 daughters. while aegon is in a meeting they discuss the fact that the king doesn’t yet have a male heir. otto suggests aegon taking a second wife to have a chance at producing an heir. it pisses aegon off that otto would even suggest that.

warnings: talk of general misogyny, established relationship, smut. (riding, creampie.)

a. note: link to the original request.

It's a warm day, perfect for taking the girls out to play in the courtyard. They are glad to be free of their daily lessons, and you of your queenly duties.

One day away from such responsibilities couldn't hurt, and the sun shining down on your grouping had you in higher spirits than you had been for months.

Until you spied your husband stalking his way through the corridor toward you.

Initially, you lit up as you saw Aegon, as did your daughters upon seeing their father; he is so often away from them in council meetings or tending to other kingly duties.

For Aegon, seeing his wife and daughters makes him happier than he's been all day. It's a rare sight, seeing him smile so warmly, especially these days. But sadly, it doesn't last long.

The girls may not notice, as Aegon scoops the youngest into his arms, but you sure as hells do.

That menacing look, the red rimming his eyes. Telltale signs that Aegon isn't feeling his best, which unfortunately have been more prevalent of late.

"Aegon?" You lay a hand on your husband's arm, squeezing. "What's the matter, love?"

His violet eyes lay upon your hand squeezing his arm, and he tries to keep his terrible mood in check, so as not to take it out on you or the children. "There's nothing wrong, my dear."

But he refuses to meet your gaze as he presses a kiss to your daughter's forehead.

"Nothing?" You raise your brows, studying him. Something is wrong. Perhaps something you'd better not discuss around the girls....

"Ladies, why don't we break for lunch?" You announce, herding your daughters to one of the maids nearby.

With one last kiss to her chubby cheek, Aegon sets the youngest down and allows her to waddle off with the rest to the kitchens.

"Talk to me, my love." Once alone, you run your hands up Aegon's arms to his shoulders, kneading. "What happened? I thought you were meant to be at council all day...."

The king grumbles, frustrated to be questioned by you, but at the same time relishing the feeling of your talented hands kneading the tension out of his shoulders. Of which there is a lot.

His gaze meets yours, and there's a hint of annoyance in it, though whether at you or other matters, you can't initially tell.

".... Otto has brought a most pressing matter to the council today."

The breath he takes next is measured, trying to keep his composure, though he finds doing so much easier in your presence.

"What?" You frown, any number of terrible things flashing through your mind. All of them ending with the palace in rubble, your family ruined as Rhaenyra takes the throne. "Is it her? What awful thing has she done now?"

You dig your fingers ferociously into Aegon's shoulders.

A small pained noise escapes him, though he tries not to wince as he places his hands over yours to loosen your grip.

"It's not Rhaenyra." He continues to stare at you, his eyes full of an exhaustion you wish you could wipe away. "It's Otto."

You smooth your fingers apologetically over his shoulders, soothing the hurt. "So you said. What did he say?"

Aegon closes his eyes, that furrow between his brows relaxing for just a moment, as your fingers stroke him, before returning. He pauses, unsure how you're going to take the words that must next fall from his lips. Knowing they might hurt you. "He said we need a son, that we desperately need a son and soon...."

Your stomach falls. You knew this was coming - for years now you've only been able to produce girls. With every birth, Aegon's joy only grew, and your worry along with it.

What if you couldn't produce an heir at all? What if -

"We'll keep trying," you say resolutely. "I know I can give you a son. Just let's keep trying, please...."

"That's not all that was mentioned." It looks like it physically pains Aegon to tell you this. "The matter of a second wife was also raised, to try and help produce a male heir...."

You know husbands - especially kings - often take second wives when the first is unable to birth a son. Gods, it will about kill you if Aegon turns to that ...

At a loss for what to say, and feeling tears threatening to spill if you utter so much as a word, you cling speechlessly to Aegon, hoping for him to make it all better.

His hand is under your chin, cupping gently, forcing you to look at him. "But.... what if.... what if I don't care for a son?"

Shaken by this declaration, all thoughts of crying banished in worry, you clap a hand over your husband's mouth and glance around for any passing servants. "Do not say that, Aegon! What if someone were to hear...?"

A determined hand encircling your wrist, he pulls your fingers gently from his mouth, a grave look on his face. "And if they did? Why is it so important they think we care about a son? Why.... why couldn't one of our daughters be queen? Rhaenyra seems to think she has some claim to the throne. Why not our eldest?"

That intense stare does not waiver as he continues to peer at you.

"Aegon, please, not here..."

The cogs in your head are turning, as you grab him by the hand and pull him along into a spare room, Aegon following silently along.

It seems he, too, is thinking about what he's just said as he closes the door behind you. His expression is still earnest when he turns to face you.

You turn to face him at the same time, arms crossed. "You're saying you would name Syryn as your successor, as queen?"

"Yes," comes his simple yet fervent reply. "If Rhaenyra believes Viserys named her heir, then surely I can do the same?"

You chew thoughtfully at your cheek. "Otto will never accept it. I doubt the smallfolk would either. Isn't that why we're in this situation in the first place?"

"You think they won't accept it?" Aegon asks, cornering you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "I'll make them accept it. I'm the king, damnit. I don't want a son, I don't need a son. I have everything I need already."

The conviction with which he says it almost makes you believe it. "And.... you don't want to at least keep trying? For a son? Or even another daughter?"

Seeing your husband all worked up like this is making you feel.... things.

Aegon notices the immediate change in your expression, the way you look at him, your need for him.

"We will keep trying.... but not because I want a son."

His hands relinquish their hold on your shoulders to instead grab for your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you flush against him. That earnest look in his eyes is now dark with desire, gaze roaming hungrily over your body.

Your hands come to sweetly cradle his jaw, humming contentedly as your body is pulled to his. "I love hearing you talk about our family this way. I love knowing you love us and will do anything to protect us, as king."

Twining a lock of his hair around your finger, you look up at him through your lashes. "I would love to give you another child, Aegon. Son or daughter."

He purrs as your fingers weave further into his hair, his hands tightening their grasp on your hips, pulling you ever - impossibly - closer.

Aegon leans down, breath hot against your ear, and breathes, "Then you'd better be prepared to keep trying.... over, and over and over again."

You can't help but grin, ecstatic at Aegon's joy over your family. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and kiss him; a biting kiss, teeth clashing, tongues sliding over each other.

"We should try now," you gasp, tugging at the back of Aegon's jacket. "While the girls are at lunch and you have some time away from the council."

Aegon groans agonizingly into your mouth before he pulls away, gaze now even darker.

"Such a desperate little thing, aren't you? Wanting to take advantage of your husband while he can spare the time," he teases, pulling off his jacket and tossing it aside.

Even just those words - Aegon calling you desperate, seeing you for what you truly are - are enough to make your legs tremble.

"Oh please, Aegon. Right here, I need it here."

The room you've found yourselves in is bare, with naught more than a fireplace and a few suits of armor dotting the perimeter.

As such, you pull him back toward the wall and lean yourself against it, fingers dipping under the collar of his exposed tunic. "I need to feel you, my king."

Aegon presses you back against the wall, your back aligning with the cool stones, his body now pressed firmly against yours. His lips find your neck with a huff of hot air, kissing and nibbling, hands grabbing for every bit of you they can reach.

"You're always so needy, so desperate," he mutters. "I'll give you what you need, my wife. I'll give you everything you desire."

As his hands work their way over you, yours do the same over him. His body has the perfect amount of cushion to it - being held against him is the most comfortable feeling in the world.

"Aegon...." You whisper, lifting a leg to wrap it high around his waist. "Give me another child. Please."

A deep growl escapes him at the wrap of your leg around him and he presses forward, wanting to make sure you can feel every searing inch of him against you.

"You want another child, do you?" His lips blaze a scorching path to the collar of your dress, which he tugs out of the way with his teeth. "You want me to fill you up and give you what you need?"

In a hurry to have him inside of you, you gather your skirts and pull them up with a quick nod. "Let's not waste too much time. Someone will be looking for one of us sooner or later."

He whines as your gown is hiked up, revealing the smooth, creamy skin of your legs and the heat between them. He runs his hands over those legs, leaving burning trails in their wake.

"So impatient," he murmurs, "but I have to agree with you."

He hunches down, positioning himself properly between your legs, and curls his hands around the backs of your thighs. "Wrap your legs around my waist, love, and hold on tight."

With your back still anchored against the wall, you wrap your legs tightly around your husband's hips and allow him to lift you from the ground. Your hands are still moving all over him, eventually skimming down to his trousers, which you start to undo the buckle of.

Aegon grunts his approval, allowing you to unbuckle his breeches. His gaze never leaves yours, though, as his breaths grow shallow.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me one day," he sighs, hands squeezing at your thighs. "You always know how to drive me absolutely wild."

At this angle, it's hard to get your hand all the way inside the opening of Aegon's pants. But you do manage to circle your fingers haphazardly around your husband's half-hard cock and give him a few solid pumps to bring him to full hardness.

"And the way to drive you wild is to ask you to fill me full of your babies, isn't it, Aegon?"

His breath hitches at the feeling of your hand around him, a frustrated groan falling from his lips. His entire body quivers with desire as he leans in. "You know me too well. The thought of filling you with my seed, of giving you more children.... it's enough to drive any man wild."

"Any man?" You 'tsk.' "Doesn't the thought of just 'any' man getting me pregnant make you jealous, my king?"

With your legs already around his hips, it's hard to get the waist of his trousers low enough to allow his erection to pop out and Aegon has to help you, shoving the constricting material down so that the head of his cock can nudge at your folds. "I'm wet for you.... can you feel it?"

Though he doesn't say it aloud, he feels a sharp pang of jealousy at your words, a possessive need surging through him. He growls, hands gripping your thighs even tighter, eyes practically blazing with desire.

"Don't play with me. I know you're teasing, but it's enough to make me lose control." He leans in even closer, breath blistering against your skin. "Put me inside, my love. Let me feel you."

Arching your back away from the wall, you position yourself so that Aegon's cockhead is pressing insistently at your opening. "…. should I make you beg to fill me up?"

That simple question sets his body quivering with yearning for you. His fingers dig into your skin as he tries to hold on to his composure, but failing all the while.

"Please…." He groans, his voice low and hoarse. "Please, my love, let me fill you up. I need it, I need you."

"Good boy," you sigh, and after a quick peck of a kiss to his nose, you begin to relax the muscles in your back, allowing your wet cunt to slide down on Aegon's cock, welcoming him inside of you.

Aegon's eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure at the feeling of your warm, wet heat around him. With a sharp inhale, he redoubles his hold on your thighs, pulling you down onto him as he begins to move with you, matching your rhythm perfectly. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your moan and Aegon's desperate grunts. Aegon's face finds your neck again as he continues to drag you down onto him with abandon, deeper and harder with each thrust.

"You feel so good, my love." His voice is tremulous, hands beginning to shake where they hold you up. "I'm not going to stop until I get you pregnant again."

And it all feels so dirty, the hem of your gown trapped around your waist as your husband pulls you down by your hips, driving himself into you. Your hands try to grapple for purchase at the wall beside your head, but then settle for resting your wrists at Aegon's shoulders, tips of your fingers clawing and scratching at the back of his neck.

"Please, Aegon…we don't have long. Someone might come looking soon…" At this point, you don't even care if you climax, as long as Aegon's seed finds its home deep inside of you.

In response, Aegon nods, hips now moving even faster as he feels your nails digging into his neck. He can feel his own release building, evidenced by the way his chest heaves and his face has gone pink all over. The need to give you what you want is overwhelming for him.

"D-Don't worry, my love," he gasps. "I won't last long like this."

And with that, he gives one final, powerful thrust, burying himself deep as he empties himself inside of you, shouting your name like a war cry.

There are few things in this world you enjoy more than the feeling of Aegon's warm seed splashing inside of you. You hum, eyes rolling back, as the king spends himself inside you.

He pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest. "I love you," he gasps, with a kiss to your temple. "And I love our daughters. Fuck a male heir. Syryn will be queen."

Capturing his lips in another kiss, you run your hands gladly up and down his chest. "Syryn will make a great queen. She already bosses the other girls around like it's her job."

Aegon chuckles, pulling back to look down at you with a gleam in his eye. "I think she takes after her mother in that regard."

[pjisskullourful]

𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝘿

😈 Ethan × reader

18+ readers only!!!🔥 sex demon does explicit shit, a lot of explicit shit

° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert

wordcount:::: 13,519

° impeccably requested by an anon: anxious/gloomy/perpetually stressed (a med student? Stem girlie?) y/n is too busy to date and isn’t very experienced for the same reason but one day something happens and the fomo hits—her sadness, pessimism, unexplored potential is so powerful she accidentally manifests incubus!ethan ° got your own request in mind? send it here! but for more control& priority status hit me up for a commission

° lyrics stolen from cobrah

° [ITA:] cazzo: fuck

getting stronger, going harder than your favourite God ...

It was another Saturday night of sitting alone in your apartment because you had been too tired from the week to make plans. The slog of med school continued, taking up all of your time while you felt like you were no closer to leaving the student phase of your life.

Your friends had invited you to go out with them. But as much as they sang the praises of their favourite nightclub, you knew that you wouldn’t really enjoy your time at The Den. You just didn’t get clubs. You had yet to figure out where the fun was supposed to be derived from. It had only ever been an overwhelming and overpriced experience for you.

But when Amandine began texting you from the club, you did feel that little sting of regret. With nothing to do but stare at the screen of your phone, you worried what you were missing out on. You felt less secure in your decision to stay home.

if i find a guy thats your type can i give him your number? Amandine’s words appeared on your screen.

Maybe on another night you would have laughed at this strange question. But right now you were just feeling down. How do you know my type? I don’t even know my type.

But Amandine didn’t let you shake her from this unexpected goal. i’ve been shopping with you so much, i know your tastes.

Your best friend of so many years, you knew that she didn’t mean you any harm. She wanted only the best for you.

Get their Insta handles for me and I’ll judge for myself, you replied.

This didn’t threaten your sense of safety too much. You could keep yourself in your comfort zone, not treading the uncharted territory of romance unless you really wanted to.

always judging, she said back. if you’re not careful you’re gonna judge your whole life away.

You just stared at these words, completely lost on how to respond. There was no way for you to defend yourself against what was essentially the truth.

You were the least experienced of all of your friends. You were the odd one out when it came to conversations about relationships, sex or men.

You shut down any pitying sentiment by stating that you were waiting for the right guy. Some days you felt extremely patient, or you forgot about the wait.

But on other days, your insecurities would be louder, more distracting. You wondered why you weren’t following the same timeline as everyone around you. Was it because there was something wrong with you, and the perfect man had seen it and already decided to avoid you? You worried about staying a virgin for a very long time because you didn’t know how to change it, which prompted more waiting.

Your thoughts and views of yourself didn’t improve as the night wore on. Amandine started to send you usernames of the ‘talent’ she found for you amongst the crowd.

But you couldn’t see yourself with any of these men. The first one had an aesthetic combination that you couldn’t find appealing - the length of his hair, his style of glasses and facial hair reminded you of someone you had gone on a few painfully awkward dates with. The next guy looked like a fuckboy. The next one had photos of himself holding different fish he had caught. The next guy’s Instagram featured photos of him only dressed in tailored suits, with extensive captions, as if the photos were prompts for essays.

You felt nothing when you looked at these men. Maybe it would be different if you were standing in front of them. Maybe then you would be able to feel the sparks that you had been waiting for, that hadn’t been present on any of the dates you had been taken on.

You were feeling bitter as you typed a lie to your friend. You told her to give her matchmaking skills a rest because you were going to sleep. You claimed that you had an early morning shift tomorrow at the café where you worked.

You thought you knew what she was thinking about you right now, it was something she had shared with you in the past - you didn’t know what you wanted, but your standards were way too high. You were aware that you were more likely to tell your friends what you didn’t find attractive, than talk about what you did like. You couldn’t pin down exactly what your type was, only what it wasn’t.

You turned the volume of your phone off and placed it face down, not wanting to give it another second of attention. You switched off the bedside lamp and began getting comfortable in your bed.

For a while you didn’t think that you would be able to fall asleep, not when your mind was racing. You still felt bitter, making a very long list of all of the things that you were missing out on. Then you began to rank these items based on how much of your life you were likely to spend continuing to not have them.

Then you got stuck on a specific idea of how nice it would be to have the comfort of cuddling with a man right now. You had never fallen asleep in someone’s arms before. You wondered how it would feel.

You were certain that you didn’t want to do it with any of the men Amandine had deemed to be your type tonight.

But who would you want to do it with, who were your options? You wanted someone who looked like Heath Ledger, but specifically how he had looked in 10 Things I Hate About You, with long and dark hair. Or someone who looked like Johnny Depp, but only from the early ‘90’s. Or someone like Jason Momoa, but not when he was doing that tough guy angry face.

You realised you were falling asleep when you lost track of thoughts, or they just stopped making any sense. Your mind couldn’t clearly give you an image to soothe you. It was all a muddle of ideas, your emotions still running with more power than usual. But you were already drifting off, unable to do anything beyond observe these feelings.

Loneliness.

Lust.

Frustration.

Uncertainty.

Desire.

Pessimism.

*** *** ***

The first thing that your bleary eyes saw were numbers in red - 3.33. Damn, it was way too early for you to be awake.

You were so displeased by the time, focused on this and not noticing what was wrong with what you were seeing. It took a few seconds before you realised it: the numbers on your digital clock were usually green.

This made you flinch before you raised your head, starting to fully (begrudgingly) wake up. You felt disorientated, much more than usual. There was something different about this bedroom you had been inhabiting for the past three years.

Then you realised why you had stirred in the first place: someone was knocking on the front door. Even though you were hearing it with your own ears, the insistent rhythm didn’t seem real to you.

You sat up, forcing yourself to grapple with your apparent reality. You took another look at your clock, seeking greater clarity. The numbers were back to their green hue, but they still read that ridiculous hour of three in the morning.

You had no idea of who could be at your door. There were no earlier arrangements that had slipped your mind. Nor were there any past instances that you could assume this to be a repeat of.

But the person seemed determined - surely this would only come from being in the right place at the right time.

You swung your legs out of the bed. You tried to ignore the fear that was like a little pit in your gut, because it was just over-dramatics.

Valentina or Amandine or one of your sisters was pulling a surprise on you. Someone that you knew had caught you off-guard by organising a delivery from Uber Eats - your brain produced this as a solution and you found it to be logical. You also liked it because it wasn’t threatening. You attached yourself to this theory as you walked towards the front door, the fear a little easier to write off.

There were six quick knocks, then a pause would follow before another burst of six knocks came. Your movements felt automatic as you willed yourself to not put too much thought into this scenario.

You reached the door and heard six more knocks. Before you could get freaked out, you turned the knob and opened the door, the security chain stopping it only a few inches from the frame. You looked out, the light behind you illuminating the doorstep.

You didn’t see anything in the hands of this stranger. It was just some guy, lacking any kind of context. But you didn’t just shut the door again, you let him make eye-contact with you as your heart positively rushed.

He addressed you by your name, not struggling over the pronunciation for even a second and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Can I come in?”

You started to complete the action of unlocking your door without thought, against your better judgement. Once you realised what you were doing, you were horrified and you wanted to stop. But you couldn’t make yourself stop. It was as if you were watching the actions of someone on TV, so disconnected. This brought the fear into the forefront, combined with confusion.

Once the door was fully opened, he very calmly walked into your home. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you - he didn’t rush at you or brandish any weapons.

But you thought about how close you were to the kitchen. The sharpened cooking knives were the key to defending yourself against an attack.

“You can close that, there's nobody with me.” He said and you were following through with his instruction before he had properly finished speaking.

The action happened without you realising, it was as if someone else was in control. It made you feel cold inside, but you couldn't make yourself act any differently.

You were wide-eyed staring at this man, trying to gather all of the information that was available to you. He looked to be about the same age as you, no lines on his face, which was made up of strong angles. He was clean and well put-together, dressed only in black. He didn't quite look real to you, from the intricate lace on his undershirt to the perfectly swept back long hair - it all looked too good, it didn't fit with the ordinary surroundings of your home, your reality. He carried nothing with him, he was just some guy in a leather jacket.

“Who are you?” You asked, your insides trembling as you stood opposite the broad-shouldered stranger.

“You can call me Ethan.” He said. There was nothing threatening in his tone and his accent was typical to your ears.

“Because that's your name?” You asked.

“One of them. It's the only one you need to worry about.” He said.

You were pleased to find that you could speak more - you still had some control. “But who are you? What are you doing here?”

“You summoned me.” He said simply. He was so secure and confident, certain that he was right.

“I- uh- I didn't…” You said. You watched for his reaction, hoping you weren't about to unknowingly provoke him. “I don't know who told you to come here or why. But I didn't ask you to come, oh at all. I was literally just sleeping in my bed and- uh, sorry you came all this way, but…”

“Did you manifest something?” He asked. “Maybe as you were falling asleep, just as you were slipping from one state to the other?”

“Manifestation isn't real.” You stated.

His calm demeanour didn't falter. He walked closer to you, and your gut clenched as the rest of your body froze.

He reached out and grabbed you just above the elbow, where your skin was bare. He laid his fingers on you then pinched. The twinge of discomfort was strong and immediate, making you gasp, flinching away a little.

Thankfully he didn't pinch you for long, releasing his hold and a small smile began on his lips. “That felt pretty real, huh?”

“I don’t understand.” You said.

You didn't know how to feel, it was all just adrenaline keeping you upright and alert. Were you in flight or fight?

“Yeah, they always send me to the clueless ones.” He said, backing off a couple of steps. He was still close enough that he could grab you and you didn’t doubt that he could physically overpower you. But it didn’t seem like that was about to happen.

“Could you help me to be, uh, less clueless?” You asked.

“Let’s sit down, hm? There’s really no point standing around here when you’re not about to show me the door.” He said.

He didn’t wait for approval or guidance from you, just turning and leaving from this area. He left the entryway, wandering into your lounge room and you instantly followed after him. He looked like a regular visitor to your home, there was something so natural about the way he just sat down on your couch, seeming to get comfortable at once.

“What’s next, I offer you a fuckin’ drink?” You asked, trying to make a joke to cover your unease.

“Such a good hostess. Water is fine for me, sweetie.” He said.

You turned your back on him, giving him another shred of your trust. You went into the kitchen and your first action wasn’t to go for the knife block. Instead you got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, him calling you sweetie rang in your ears as you did so. You didn’t get anything for yourself, you couldn’t tell if you were thirsty or not.

You walked back into the living room and his dark eyes were on you immediately. His stare was so intense that it gave you a rush of heat in the depths of your gut. You had never experienced something like this before.

“Thanks.” He said. “Sit with me.”

You did it, sitting on the same couch as him. He turned to fully face you, more of that strong stare - what was he looking for?

“How did I summon you?” You asked.

“Great question.” He said. “And a great opportunity for me to find out just how sceptical you are. There’s boundaries that separate one realm from another…” You furrowed your brow. “And when you’re falling asleep those boundaries get less solid- imagine curtains and how they move and sway, things can slip through because it isn’t firm, it isn’t air-tight.

“And what slipped through was your manifesting. You weren’t tied down by reality, neither were your desires. You wished bigger than you would have if you thought for a second that anyone would hear. But desperate wishes like that- it’s what my kind are always listening for, we’re obsessed with it.

“Your wishing, or manifesting, or whatever you want to call it, slipped through to a more powerful, more mystical realm: mine.” He said. “Does that explain how you summoned me?”

It was like you had happened upon a puzzle. Several of the pieces were in place, connections formed, but the majority were scattered about in an unhelpful mess. And there wasn’t a reference image for you to know what you were working toward. But this stranger knew what the picture was supposed to be.

“Kinda. If I just put my scepticism to the side, I guess I can sort of understand what you’re trying to say.” You said.

“Good girl.” He said with an encouraging smile.

If you dropped the want to label everything as crazy, then you could proceed forward. “You said something about your kind- um, what kind is that?”

“I’m an incubus.” He said, looking amused now.

You couldn’t keep yourself from laughing, the nerves making it more high-pitched than you were used to hearing from yourself. “Alright, now I know that you’re in the wrong place, whoever told you to come here is lying to you. I didn’t summon you- why would a fuckin’ virgin summon a sex demon? You’re in the wrong house with the wrong girl, I hate to break it to you.”

You were embarrassed after saying that, silent as you sucked on the inside of your lower lip. You didn’t know why you had said it. Your absence of sexual partners wasn’t anything this stranger needed to know, but you had almost eagerly given him the information.

He didn’t have much reaction, taking a sip of water. He didn’t agree that he was in the wrong house, making no moves to get up and head for the door.

“Would you like me to act surprised that you’re a virgin?” He asked and you started to avoid his eyes, which seemed to see too much. “Because that’s what people usually do, right? They simply cannot believe it, and I see how it could catch them off-guard.

“But I already knew. You would have to work hard to surprise an incubus.” He said. “I’m in the right place, that’s why I know so much about you, darling.

“So you know a little about incubus? Enough that you didn’t need to ask for clarification.” He said.

“I’ve heard of them, I don’t know if I believe they’re real. But I’ve seen, um, stuff online.” You said.

He curiously tilted his head to the side. “Stuff?”

“Porn.” You said before you slapped a hand over your lips, your eyes growing wide. Your embarrassment skyrocketed more, you were physically uncomfortable and there was a blush in your cheeks hotter than you had ever felt before.

“It’s okay. In fact, I would say that’s a pretty common way for the word incubus to get on someone’s radar.” He said.

You gradually lowered your hand, speaking in a very small voice. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He gave your knee a pat, which felt a little condescending. “Don’t worry too much about it, baby. It’s just because I’m compelling you, it makes you more agreeable.”

“Are you controlling my mind?” You asked.

“Yes and no. The thoughts that you’re having are still your own, I can’t mess with that. It’s your actions that I’m having a kind of influence over. They must have covered this incubus talent in those very educational videos you watched.” He said teasingly, and your cheeks continued to flame. “Are you still unsure if me and my kind are real?”

You stared down at your hands, a noticeable shake in both of them. “I guess it’s- in a really weird way, it’s the most logical explanation.”

“Now you’re getting it, just go with it.” He said. “Do you know what incubus do?”

“I don’t know, you have kinky sex with people.” You said.

“We make deals. Being from a different realm and all, I can give you things that you would never be able to get for yourself. I could grant a wish for you.” He said.

You lifted your eyes slightly, getting a little closer to looking at his pleasing face again. “A wish?”

“Yeah. Well, within some limitations. I can do more than you, but I can’t do everything.” He said. “But I’ll tell you if your wish is possible or not before we do anything, darling.”

You looked up, finding the courage to meet his eye. And when you did, you began to smile for a reason that you couldn’t name. You didn’t mind how intimidated you felt, you supposed you were getting used to it.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” He asked.

You licked your lips. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yeah, it gives you a sense of comfort, right? One that you didn’t know you needed.” He said.

He moved his hand slowly, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. But you didn’t want to, you were content to watch him place his hand on your knee, then keep it there.

“Do you wanna have kinky sex with me?” You asked.

“Very much.” He said without hesitation. “It is literally the whole reason why I’m here. Do you want to have kinky sex with me?”

You hesitated, getting overwhelmed by the possibilities. It was more than just stepping into uncharted territory. It was having to walk into uncharted territory wearing 10-inch high heels with absolutely no practice beforehand.

“I- I’m not still a virgin because of some plan, seeking virtue or anything. I don’t like the thought that I’m gonna meet someone who is so turned off by it and I don’t like feeling like my friends are pitying me every time it’s brought up.” You said, continuing this streak of sharing so much with him.

“We could so easily get rid of that label forever.” He said. “And I know that you don’t want to lose it to someone who’s going to treat you, your body and your pussy like it’s all made of glass.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t want someone who is gonna be so gentle and boring, you know? It should be significant, not basic and just missionary where I don’t learn anything.”

“You would learn so much from me, darling.” He said, easing his hand up and onto your thigh.

You swallowed. “I only want to kiss you ‘cause you're in my mind telling me that's what I wanna do.”

“No, I told you I'm not changing your thoughts.” He said. “I'm in your head to tell you that you can kiss me. But don't get ahead of yourself. I'm here to make a deal, you have to tell me what you want first.” 

“My wish?”

“Yes, and please don't bore me by asking for good grades. Make it something that's worth me coming all this way.” He said.

“Um… so I'll just say it and you'll tell me if you can, like, do it?” You asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Could you promise me success? I don't need you to give me my dream job right now, I just don't want all this hard work and shit to be for nothing.” You said, more shy to say this than some of the other exposing comments you had made to him. “I need to know that I'm not doing all this for nothing, I want to end up someplace where I'm fulfilled and-... Is that too vague, or…?”

“No, it's perfect and I can do that. I can put that into the universe for you and make sure that you get to where you wanna go, not toiling away at something beneath you.” He said. “But you have to give me your body, just for tonight, that's all I need to make your wish come true.” His hand was up quite high on your thigh now. “And if you think about it, we're taking care of two wishes: ensuring your success in the medical field and getting rid of that troublesome virginity.

“But it’s up to you, darling.” He said.

You were glad when there was a pause after this. You didn’t see yourself going through any automatic movements. It wasn’t like before where you didn’t feel the control over your body. Now you knew that you weren’t watching someone on television, this was conscious consent.

And you made the conscious effort to share it with him. There was still so much of this puzzle unsolved. The only thing you knew for sure was that this devastatingly handsome man wanted to sleep with you and holding onto that kept you from getting distracted by everything else.

You leaned forward, more of that intoxicating adrenaline fuelling you as you aimed to cross the distance between him and you. He watched you getting closer and it was so nice to know that you weren’t about to be rejected.

Your eyes went down to his lips and you weren’t thinking of the other people you had kissed before this. This would be the most significant kiss of your life.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth met his. He was so warm and so firm as he instantly kissed you back. He rested each of his hands on your face and you moved closer.

You were invigorated, your heart pounding as you felt more-and-more of his body heat. You laid your open palm on his chest, feeling his hot skin through the thin, pretty material of his shirt. He tilted his head slightly and your bottom lip slipped in between both of his. As his fingers caressed your cheeks, you started to feel his tongue on your lip.

The desire was beginning to pool between your thighs, you were so aware of it. You wanted to explore everything that went with it.

He barely broke the kiss to speak. “Good girl, good fucking girl.” He kept kissing you as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and started to ease you closer. You went with this, feeling like you could melt in his embrace. As you felt more hints of his tongue, you knew you had made the right choice - you felt ready and excited.

“Do you want me to grant your wish?” He asked.

Amongst the flurry of kisses you almost didn’t want to answer, you just wanted to experience more of his mouth. You kept close, his breath still on your face as you spoke. “Yes, please yes.”

“Are you going to do whatever I say to get it?” He asked.

“Yes, yes I will.” You said, you had never felt so willing in your whole life, with very little to hold you back.

“You’re getting this needy tone in your voice that is just so sexy.” He said, his fingertips still savouring the texture and heat of your cheek. “You aren’t like the other people I meet who just want this…” His other hand had slipped under your shirt, rubbing at the small of your back. “You need it.”

“I really do, Ethan.” You said, surprising yourself with how you could just leave shame behind.

“You don’t want anyone to be too gentle, which is fucking perfect. I’m not gonna be, you and me are gonna find every one of your limits and that’s gonna be so much fun.” He said, making you smile. “But I am gonna ease you into it, we won’t start with the most intense and feral stuff.”

You looked at the face of this stranger, not seeing anything that brought you fear, you just kept feeling more intrigued. “What are we going to start with?”

“You’re gonna show me what you can do with that mouth, show me that you’re worth being my fuck doll.” He said. “You’ve got to earn the favour of my powers. Take your clothes off, you won’t need them going forward.”

You felt a lack of confidence as you began to remove your clothes, showing him more than anyone had seen before. Maybe he thought it would help to make things more even, taking off his leather jacket. You weren’t sure if you felt less uncomfortable, but looking at his impressive arms did distract you from your insecurities. As you pushed down your pants, he reached down to take off his boots. But he didn’t make any moves to remove his shirt or pants, meanwhile you were taking your panties down.

“Be a good girl now and kneel right here.” He said, pointing to a spot on the ground in front of where he sat on the couch.

You knew the tiles were going to be cold and hard on your bare knees. But you made the move anyway. Your need to prove yourself to him dulled your other thoughts down, your perceptions not quite the same as usual. He changed how he was sitting, placing both of his feet on the floor, but leaving enough room between his legs for you to fit. You placed yourself here as he started to unbuckle his belt.

“You don’t have to be nervous, darling.” He said, opening the fly of his jeans.

Your eyes were wide, with no prior experience to guide you, all that you could think to do was stare at him. This wild encounter kept unfolding and you were as daunted as you were intrigued.

“I know you’ve never sucked a cock before, so you’re gonna start with my balls.” He said, reaching a hand into his underwear. “You’re gonna worship them, put them in your mouth, cover them with so many kisses. Then when you’ve proven that you can please me, then you’ll get my cock.”

Your mouth dropped open when his cock was out and directly in front of your face. The stiff length was bigger than the toy you kept in your nightstand. You imagined that it would be quick to overwhelm you.

“Um…” Your stomach was twisting and you wondered if your excitement had given you a false sense of your capabilities. “That’s, like, really fuckin’ big.”

“I’ll teach you how to take it.” He said. He held the shaft close to the base, while his other hand played with your hair, smoothing it at a soothing tempo. It was hard for you to know where to put your eyes - did you meet his, or were you supposed to be looking at this intimidating boner?

“Don’t forget that it isn’t your starting point. My balls are first.” He said and he changed how he held it, lifting the length so that less of his balls were hidden. “You can handle those for me, can’t you? Surely you can, in exchange for the future that you want.”

You licked your lips and began to lean in, thinking about things you had seen in dirty movies. You could remember the hunger you had felt when watching those types of videos, the curiosity so strong it felt like it could burn you. You looked at the textured skin as it got closer to your face. It was easier to not think about his shaft when you wondered what his balls would taste like.

You started with a kiss, feeling the heat on your lips at once. Then you applied another kiss and another, exploring across his scrotum slowly. More of his rich, primal scent filled your nostrils.

“Tell me, have you ever called someone Daddy before?” He asked as he put his hand to the top of your head.

You looked up at him, finding him watching you very carefully. “Only as a joke.”

His fingers were no longer just lying on your head, now they had found a hold. “That’s what you’re going to call me, but neither of us will be joking.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You replied, very eager to say it and find out how it felt. It was instantly kinky and you liked how it felt.

It seemed that he liked it too, showing you a smile that made your heart flutter. Then you felt him directing your head forward again, back into his crotch. You didn’t resist, a little less intimidated than before as you wondered if you could get more than a smile from him. The word daddy floated around in your mind and you hesitated less between kisses, your lips spending more time on his skin.

Then you started to open your mouth, pushing your tongue forward to drag along him. He gripped your head harder than before and you liked the pressure. He hummed happily and you shut your eyes, one lick promptly following another.

“Don’t be afraid to put them in your mouth.” He invited.

You pushed your face closer to his scrotum and changed how you were holding your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his sac, bringing it to rest on your tongue.

It didn’t take you long to adjust, so you soon started to move your tongue. You massaged it against what filled your mouth.

“Oh yeah, you like those balls in your mouth, don’t you dirty girl?” He said.

You didn’t want to take him out of your mouth to speak. So you tried to find a different way to agree with him. You drew your cheeks in, starting to suck. You kept working your tongue and you could feel yourself getting into a groove. You could handle this.

“Keep worshipping those fuckin’ balls.” He said.

You were starting to gain confidence - maybe you could be good at sex. The sense of accomplishment pushed you onwards and you kept rubbing your tongue on his skin, lapping keenly. He was shifting in his seat and every once in a while you felt him give his cock a single, lethargic stroke.

“I think I’m gonna make you into a great fuck doll.” He said.

Why was that your instant favourite compliment you had ever received? It made your heart do a little somersault and it prompted you to mentally notice how wet your pussy felt. It was the most erotic thing you had ever heard, affecting you so deeply.

“You’re making my balls feel so fuckin’ good. Do you feel how heavy they’re getting?” He paused to groan and your thighs tensed, your own anticipation growing. “That’s all my cum and you’re gonna get all of it. It’s gonna be a lot, you’re making my balls ache with need.”

You sucked your cheeks in a little harder and he jerked your head closer. Your nose was brought flush to his skin and he held you there, with less breathing room. You saw how easy it would be to lose yourself in his pleasure as all of your senses were dominated by him. But it was exciting as you waited for his next reaction, something you couldn’t predict.

“Okay, let’s see if you can treat the shaft just as well.” He said, pulling and moving your head away.

Your mouth was emptied and you started to open your eyes. At first your eyes went to his very close tip. Then you looked up at his face, your breath remaining short.

He curled up some strands of your hair in his fist and you didn’t dare to move. “Thank me, thank me for the privilege of getting to worship my balls, baby.”

“Thank you for the privilege of worshipping your balls, Ethan.” You said, getting all of the dirty words out and feeling like you meant them.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” He asked and you were quick to nod your head. “It’s fun making me feel good, hm? You’re gonna have fun sucking my cock too, I know it. You only think that you can’t do it. But you just have to start. So how about you start? Go ahead and give the tip a kiss, hm?”

You looked down at his cock, feeling how much you were shaking. You tried to hold onto your accomplishment of successfully playing with his scrotum - if you could do that, maybe you could do this?

He held it steady and you leaned in. The skin here already shone with a bit of moisture. You kept your lips together and your eyes open.

This skin was firmer and hotter. He gripped your hair and you cautiously gave it another kiss, then another. As your heart raced, you looked up at him and he was watching you with great interest. The rising and falling of his chest seemed to be coming in quicker.

“You look good like this.” He said and you started to linger longer between kisses, growing more familiar with how his tip felt. “And I get to see it before any man.” 

“That’s right, savour it just like you were savouring Daddy’s balls.” He said and the soothing tone in his voice helped you get comfortable. “Wrap your cute lips around the tip.”

You parted your lips, drawing the crown of his cock between them in slow and sensual kisses.

Then you contributed your tongue, sliding it in an upward motion. You saw the expression on his handsome face not change, he didn’t seem unhappy with what you were doing. And so you licked him more-and-more, the taste of his skin so intimate.

“Now suck it.” He said at the same time as he eased your head forward. “Suck it like it’s the sweetest lollipop in the world.”

About an inch of his erection moved into your mouth and you kept your mouth set around him. You relaxed your tongue beneath him and started to suck, as if you were using a girthy straw. His eyelids fluttered as he let out a shaky exhale and you felt more of that motivating pride.

“Mm-hmm, I told you you could do it.” He said and you felt him guiding your head forward again. “Don’t forget this, I am always right.”

You had started to squeeze your thighs together as you continuously got more invested in his passion.

He let you feel the firmness of his grip on your head. “Come on baby, you can take more. Your mouth isn’t a virgin anymore.”

You moved with him, completely willing to remain in his control, wanting to see what would happen next. Your curiosities and interests came before any of your current needs, they were easily overpowered.

He fit more of his shaft into your mouth, the tip pushing against the roof of your mouth. Until he readjusted so that it was pointing towards your throat’s opening. You braced yourself with your hands on his thighs as you felt your heart beating harder.

Even though your mouth was getting closer to being full, you still felt like you could manage it. You shut your eyes as you concentrated on sucking, attracting no corrections from him.

Before too long, he was jerking your head further forward again. You were surprised when your lips bumped into the hand that held his shaft steady at the base. You forgot about keeping your breathing regular momentarily.

He didn’t let you adjust to this depth. You worried that you had done something wrong as he dragged your head away. But he didn’t let his cock slide free, pulling you forward before your lips could reach his tip. He repeated this motion, guiding your mouth back-and-forth on his length.

“That’s how you make Daddy feel fuckin’ good.” He said.

Both of his hands went to the top of your head as he set into a tempo of how your lips should continue to work him up-and-down. You tried to settle into this motion, your tongue rubbing consistently on his underside.

You had never felt truly used like this before and you didn’t want to recoil from it in the slightest. Your cunt was reacting to the explicit noises that he was making. You enjoyed how straight-forward everything was and you were pleased that it seemed you were rising to meet the challenge.

“Honey, that mouth is really great. You’re off to a promising start, yes you are.” He said, different tones brought out in his voice.

The rushing adrenaline made your sense of accomplishment all the more significant and it was an addictive feeling. With no room in your head for other thoughts, there was nothing to slow down your enjoyment. You could feel moisture on your thighs as you kept them clenched together.

His fingers clenched, gathering up sections of your hair. “No more easing, you’re gonna make me come now.”

He started to direct your head faster and you felt a mild pulling on your scalp. This new tempo was relentless, there were no breaks to compose yourself and you could feel wetness spilling over your lower lip.

Even more spit spread down your chin when he struck his hips up, driving the tip into your throat. You were too surprised to keep yourself from sputtering.

Your breathing caught, and there was no gaining it back, not even when he eased off from your throat, the momentum taking him to a shallower point.

But just as quickly, he was bringing your mouth down again, filling it up without hesitation.

“You’re my dirty girl now. And that’s exactly how you’re gonna take this.” He said.

He was pulling on your hair, bringing a stinging sensation now. And it didn’t seem that he was on the verge of stopping.

It had become a legitimate effort to keep up with him now, and you weren’t sure that you were doing the best job of it. But at the very least you were keeping him in your mouth. As your lungs burnt, you understood that this was a skill, which you would need to develop.

Currently, his determination seemed to make up for your inexperience. It was all good enough to keep his dick stiff as his vigour continued.

He threw his head back for a loud moan the next time his tip pushed into your throat. “Fuck, yes. Oh fuck. I’m not going to come in your mouth. No, you’re going to wear the first load you’ve ever earned.” He stroked himself back before your head was brought down just as fast. “So when I pull out, keep your eyes shut.”

That didn’t happen straight away, instead he kept up the tempo. Your ears began to ring as his movements remained just as persistent.

Then suddenly he was dragged entirely out of your mouth, which stayed hanging open. Before you could fully register this change, you were feeling something wet hit your face. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut even tighter. It was unlike anything you had felt before: the pronounced droplets and streaks were so hot.

He took his hands off of your head one at a time, panting out your name. You felt another rope of his cum shoot onto your left cheek, making the coverage more even.

“There you go.” He said. “You can open your eyes now.”

You did this slowly, gasping for air as reality crept back in. You settled your eyes on him as you felt some of the thick liquid give in to gravity, sliding down your skin.

He looked pleased, there weren’t any lines on his face to indicate annoyance. Maybe he was on the verge of smiling as he relaxed back on your sofa. His cock was noticeably softening, no longer demanding your attention.

He put his fingers under your chin, guiding your head back. “You’re going to thank me again, thank me for this unparalleled privilege. But you’re going to thank my cock.”

You licked your lips, tasting him even more strongly. You lowered your eyes to his shaft as you remained short on breath. “Thank you, thank you for the absolute privilege of getting covered in your cum.”

“Mm, you’re welcome, darling. I knew you had great potential.” He said. “I’m glad you like giving me pleasure, it’s so very obvious that you’re enjoying this. That’s good, that’s sexy. But just like I can tell that, I can also tell that you aren’t totally in this yet. You can call it fear or insecurities, whatever it is, something in here is holding you back…”

He tapped his finger on the centre of your forehead and you furrowed your brow. But he was speaking again before you had the chance to disagree.

“I can’t fuck you until I’ve broken you out of your mind further.” He said.

Now you didn’t know how to disagree with him because you weren’t sure what he meant. You silently watched him sit back, anxiety trickling in.

His attention left you, going to where he had laid his leather jacket out. He started to look through the pockets and you remained at his feet, unwilling to get up without instruction.

He produced one bundle of red rope, then a second. This got your interest and curiosity.

But you started to question everything you were seeing as he pulled out a long, metal rod. It was taller than him, there was no way it could have been hidden until now. It had a small, grippy-style foot at one end and he put this on the floor, resting the pole against the couch. Once he was content that it wasn’t going to fall, he went back to the jacket and soon another rod was appearing.

“Wait, wait, how are you doing that?” You asked.

This new pole looked like it was the same length as the first as he pulled it free. He glanced at you then back at the object. “Oh, right. My jacket is what you might call magic, in that I can pull almost anything out of the pockets.

“Almost anything.” He said as he rested the pole with its twin. Then he picked up the jacket and brought it even closer for you to see. But you were just as confused because it appeared to be nothing but limp leather. “I can’t get something living from it, so don’t think about asking for a bunny. I also can’t use it to produce something as big as a house or a car.

“But within those limitations, there’s a lot I can do.” He said, his hand going into the average-sized pocket and you saw the top of another rod. “It’s a little incubus trick that always keeps things easy for me.”

You watched as he pulled out more-and-more, still not fully believing your eyes. “Could I get anything from it?”

“Nope, they would work as regular pockets for you, my pretty little thing. It only works for demons, so it would do you no good to steal it for yourself.” He said in a casual tone as he got the end of this third rod free.

“I wasn’t even thinking of… what are those?” You asked.

“I’m gonna make a temporary frame.” He said as he stood up. His first action was to take down his pants and briefs, freeing his legs entirely. Then he stepped out of your personal space and started to gather up these rods. “You’re gonna learn a little something about shibari, specifically suspension shibari.”

Images you had seen online were brought to the forefront of your mind as you heard the pronunciation of this word for the first time.

You watched as he started the assembly. Towards the top of each rod was a small divot, a spot for one to securely attach to another. They fitted together with some clicks, forming the top of a triangle.

He got the apparatus standing upright, it was tall enough for him to stand under. He made adjustments to how the rubber-padded ends rested on the ground, they looked like they were evenly spaced out.

The tripod didn’t waver or wobble. You accepted what was seemingly your only option and gave him more of your trust that you weren’t about to be injured.

He collected up the rope and got to work with that. It would have been easy for you to get distracted by his nudity, your eyes moving away from the rope every so often. You tried to only look at his cock when he seemed distracted enough to not notice and your thoughts rushed with every glance.

He secured the rope around the tops of the rods with some knots, the tail of this rope freely hanging down. It remained unattached to anything because when he picked up the second bundle of rope, his attention went to you.

He beckoned for you to stand up and you hurried to do so, facing him. There was something about having your exposed body this close to him that kept you from fully catching your breath.

The rope wasn’t rough against your bare skin as he started to wind it around you, just beneath your bust. He created a band by wrapping it around you four times, tight without letting it dig into you.

This was affixed with a knot behind your back. Then he progressed to making a second band, this one going over your navel. He stood behind you as he tied more knots into the rope.

There was some length left over, which he allowed to dangle, brushing against the backs of your thighs.

He returned to the enchanted leather jacket and you saw more rope come from the pocket. He unwound this bundle as he looked you up-and-down - planning rather than judging.

“Kneel.” He said and you quickly lowered yourself down, returning your unprotected knees to the cold tiles. Even though his cock was now directly in front of your face, you endeavoured to not get caught up in just staring at it. You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze.

“Raise your arms above your head, yep.” He said, stepping to place himself behind you. “Now reach down like you’re trying to grab the back of your neck, but on opposite sides.”

You bent your elbows and crossed one wrist over the other at the back of your head. He was completely out of your sight as he started to tie your wrists together.

To keep you from changing the position of your arms, he created a new bind. He looped the rope from your wrist to your bicep, then copied it on the other arm. He ensured its preservation by tying more firm knots. The restriction made you feel vulnerable, but that wasn’t a negative experience.

Once this was complete, he walked around to stand in front of you again. He studied you, a serious look on his face. “Any pain, pretty little thing?”

“No, it’s fine.” You said.

“Great, then I’ll keep going.” He said before lowering himself down to sit on the ground in front of you. He tapped your right leg. “Extend this leg out.”

Your centre of gravity felt off, but you managed to make this shift without falling. Then he was on you with a new length of rope, wrapping it around your thigh this time.

He created a couple of bands, then extended the end of the rope back and behind you. He moved, leaving your sight as he kneeled behind you. You tried to picture what he was doing as there was a slight tug on the rope that wrapped around your thigh. The length remained tense and soon he was attaching it to the main knot resting on your back.

“Very nice.” He said, his voice just as smooth, but less warm than before. “Stand for me.”

“Um…” 

As you placed your right foot firmly on the ground, you were already imagining yourself falling over. You pictured dark red droplets on the tiles after your nose smacked into it.

You lifted your ass and leaned your body weight forward, allowing you to move your left leg now. You got this foot set on the ground too and started to push yourself up. Cautiously, you kept your knees bent.

He watched instead of offering his assistance and you feared that you were about to be chided for taking too long. As you straightened your back, you found the rope on your thigh pulling. You brought some give to the rope by lifting your right foot from the ground, letting it hover as you found this less uncomfortable.

“How is that? Are you feeling like a helpless little bug stuck in a spiders’ web yet?” He asked.

“That’s a very appropriate way to put it, yes.” You said.

He came closer, smirking as he stood in front of you. “But that isn’t a bad thing, is it? I actually think that you don’t mind it at all.”

You tried your best to maintain steady eye contact, even as you couldn’t help swaying a little. “You’re right.”

He placed his fingers under your chin as he got closer again, his eyes briefly going down to your mouth. “Because you want to surrender to me, don’t you, dirty girl?”

Your breath was coming in much faster and you were practically counting down the seconds until he next kissed you. “Yes, I do.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and the powerful anticipation prompted you to part your lips. You were able to stop thinking about the strain in your limbs. Even when he took his hand away from you, you remained locked in your hopes.

“Over here now.”

When you opened your eyes, it was to find him standing next to the super-sized tripod. You had to twist and change your posture to walk over to him. And even then, it was more of a strange shamble across the floor.

“Stand in the centre.” He instructed.

You made more of your awkward shuffles until you were standing under the apparatus. He joined you, placing himself behind you. He was doing something to the rope harness around your chest, making adjustments that shifted it about, without compromising any of its security. He was silent as he completed his task.

Without any warning, you felt the binds tense and pull upwards. Your feet left the ground, getting higher-and-higher to the sounds of his little grunts of effort. Your stomach twisted as another aspect of bodily control was taken from you. It was thrilling (and intimidating) to see your feet dangling a few inches above the floor, all the while knowing you could do nothing to get down.

Then your right leg was yanked even higher as he pulled at the rope attached to your thigh again. Your thigh was pulled away from the other and kept like this as he kept the rope taut. He tied it to something new, the line that hung directly from the apparatus. You bent your knee, trying to settle into this unusual position. He got it all secured and then he took a few steps back, surveying his handiwork.

“Sweet girl…” He said, wandering back into your field of vision. “This suits you so much better than the whole studious virgin thing you had going on.”

Some strands of his dark hair had come loose from the bun, now framing his face. His eyes moved so thoroughly over your body as a small smile pulled at his cheek.

He nodded to himself and stepped away, going back to the couch. You watched as he picked his jacket up again, going for the magical pocket.

You were rushing with adrenaline and partially you started to think of all of the things that could go wrong - the amount of ways you could be injured wasn't getting any smaller.

When he turned around again, you saw that he held a leather paddle in his hand. “Are you ready for Daddy to break you out of your mind?”

You gulped audibly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He walked over, letting you feel the paddle by rubbing it against your raised thigh. There was no sharpness at first. You stared back as he fixed his eyes on yours. Again, you wondered about mind control.

You lost the competition, your eyes snapping shut when he slapped the paddle onto your pubic mound. It was like a little explosion of heat - the kind of heat that felt alive because of the tingles it brought with it. As your breath caught, you tried to determine if you had enjoyed the sensation.

“Ooh, is that so sensitive? Is that just so needy, swelling with blood and getting so wet?” He asked, holding the firm toy against your pussy. “Hm, is it, honey?”

You forced your eyes open as he tapped it on your labia. “Yea- yes, I don’t think I’ve ever been this needy before in my life.”

He slapped the toy against your thigh, making you wince. “And yet, I’m going to make you even needier.”

“Thank you.”

He gave your other thigh a hit before walking around, going beyond your view again. “Now, when I first showed this to you, you probably assumed I would use it to spank your ass, hm?” You jerkily nodded your head and your answer was met with him striking your ass. “That’s what most people would do if given this…”

A series of spanks was inflicted upon each cheek, bringing a glow to your ass. It hurt more every time, keeping you paying attention to only this.

“But I’m not most people.” He said, stepping in front of you. “And I know that the fun of spanking doesn’t have to be limited to ass.”

Your eyes grew wide as he flicked the paddle up. Your body shook and your thoughts were fragmented as you tried to guess where he would hit you next.

When he whacked it against your breast, the sensation ripped right through you. Your stiff nipple hurt the most, the pain much sharper here. But it stung everywhere that the toy had hit.

This skin was still prickling when he took the paddle away, swatting your other tit. You gasped, keenly aware of the feeling of your nerves fraying.

Each of your nipples throbbed as he kept spanking, alternating from one breast to the other. There was a fire in his eyes and he didn’t appear to tire - just as impassioned each time.

Before you could reach that point where it was too much, he stopped. You were left reeling, your mind blank.

“Do you like that?” He asked.

You were gasping for air, it couldn’t be denied that you were feeling invigorated. There was a lot to enjoy about the adrenaline dominating your system. “Yes, Daddy.”

“I don’t know why I asked. I can see by this ridiculously wet pussy that you’re liking it.” He said.

You squirmed but there wasn’t any way to cover yourself. You simply had to remain exposed to him.

“I didn’t forget about it and how needy it is.” He said, putting a hand to your pussy. You wordlessly whined when you felt him push your folds back. “I’ll give it all of the attention it needs…” He slowly laid the toy against your skin. “And then some more after that.”

He struck you, the paddle hitting directly on your exposed clitoris. It was a complete shock and your heart did a somersault, then launched into your throat. You were reminded of the intensity of orgasms in that split second.

You flinched, little squeaks falling from your mouth when he repeatedly tapped it against this spot. The pleasure was fast, you knew if it were more sustained it would entirely blow your mind.

He switched back to using the toy to spank you, using a decent amount of strength each time. There wasn’t enough time between strikes for you to recover, so you remained trapped in this state of hyper-awareness and hyper-sensitivity. You weren’t forming any complete thoughts, your mind preoccupied by these grand, continuous reactions.

“Fuck.” You burst out, feeling like you could feel your heartbeat in your clitoral hood after the most recent slap.

And it wasn’t the last. You were getting intoxicated on this combination of pleasure and pain. One accelerated the other, their power never failing.

When he eased the paddle away, you continued to feel its effects. A strong heat radiating out from your cunt. It twitched and throbbed through what felt like aftershocks.

“That’s better than me just tapping this thing on your ass, hm?” He asked.

“Fuck yes, it is.” You said.

He snapped his fingers and you lifted your head a little. “Look at me now, baby.”

Amongst all of the rushing sensations, you tried to give your concentration to him. “Yes, Ethan.”

He gave you a long look. “It’s starting to look pretty empty behind those eyes.”

“Yes, Ethan.” You replied.

He continued to study your eyes, confirming something to himself. “No thoughts, no fears, no questions, no worries, no insecurities, just pleasure.”

“Am I broken out of my mind yet?” You asked.

“You tell me.”

“I…” You felt the lack of inhibitions, the lack of shame and you started nodding. “Yes Ethan, I think I am.”

“I think I agree. But there's one way to get to the truth, a taste test.” He said and your throat tightened.

He began to get lower, lining himself up with your pussy. You were holding your breath as you watched him, preemptively feeling the pleasure of what was to come next.

He maintained that intense eye contact with you as he opened his mouth. He moved closer and you felt his warm breath on this already scorching hot area. Then there was his tongue, wet and firm as it dragged along your slit.

It felt like all of the pleasure in your body finally had a place to land and it was the start of an exciting relief. He slowly dragged his tongue back-and-forth, seemingly seeing no reason to rush.

With your chest heaving, you were poised to feel him move inside. And you knew that would be the point when the pleasure exploded inside of you.

But he took his mouth off of you instead of going deeper. You froze, confused on such a deep level.

“Yeah, I think you’ve successfully been broken out of that chaotic little prison of your mind.” He said, resting his hands on your thighs as he looked up at you. “Now, do you know how to control your orgasm? If I say you aren’t allowed to come until I’m done counting down: can you do that?”

“Um, I think so.” You said.

“Only one way to find out. I’m going to count from five to zero, and when I say zero that’s the moment that you come. But not before that.” He explained.

Words failed you so you just nodded. Internally, you panicked because controlling your orgasm while you had absolutely no control over your body seemed like an impossible feat. But you had to try for him.

He lined himself up with your pussy again, half of his face disappearing from your sight. Before saying any numbers, he extended his tongue to your entrance.

It felt like a long time before he started to count. You heard five and you curled your hands into fists as you tried to steady yourself.

But the sensations kept getting more intense, thanks to his tongue quickly swirling around your entrance. He said four, then you felt his tongue move inside a little. He kept swirling at this shallow point and your tummy clenched. You heard him say three and you started to get excited for your release.

The anticipation was crushing on your chest. But when he said two, you thought you would be able to make it.

“One.” He said after slurping noisily.

You were holding your breath as he plunged his tongue inside, to thoroughly rub it against the walls of your pussy. You felt like you were ready to float away with the pleasure.

But zero didn’t come. Instead he retracted his tongue, your pussy uselessly clenching as he repositioned.

His hands went to your butt, holding each cheek as he eased them apart. You drew in a series of shaky breaths, you were so confused and unsettled.

You felt the smooth wetness of his tongue glide across your hole. This unique experience was like a jolt through your system, surprising you enough that you didn’t know how to react.

He stroked his tongue back the other way and moaned. “Mm, virgin asshole, what a rare delicacy.”

He repeatedly licked at this secret spot. When he began to ease his tongue inside, your eyes fluttered shut. It wasn’t like anything you had felt before. The pleasure was deep, but less intense - it would need to be built upon. And it seemed that was what he intended to do, finding a new way to make you float.

The paddle was brought back to your attention when he slapped it against your pussy. He spanked it onto you repeatedly, too fast for you to recover between strikes. You were rapidly climbing up to that edge again.

It was a wonderful combination. His tongue firmly in your hole felt like it could lead to an orgasm, you were floating. But the paddle hitting you made you want to explode into your orgasm. The sharp and the sensual danced together, bringing out more need.

You were given a break from the flogging. He dragged his tongue from your asshole to your pussy. Your entire body was responding as he repeated this motion, getting into a lovely rhythm. You began to think your release was possible as this consistent pleasure took you away from feeling like a person - you were becoming nothing more than a throbbing need.

“Ethan?” You feebly began. “Aren’t you gonna finish counting?”

“Hm?” He hummed as he took his mouth off of you. “I guess I hadn’t considered it.” You bit into your lower lip, hard. “Are you saying that you could come from this?”

“Ye- ah.” You were entirely shocked when he swiftly plunged his tongue into your ass again. As your whole body clenched, he resumed his licking from one hole to the other. “Yes, please. Please Daddy, please.”

He briefly interrupted his flow to speak. “You could come like this?”

“Yes, yes. Please, yes.” You whined.

He stopped licking, now repositioning so that he could stand in front of you. You stared back at him, lost of how to react, only knowing that patience was currently beyond your limited capabilities.

“No, no, not like that. I need to see your face as you’re coming. That’s the kind of stuff Daddy likes.” He said.

Even more of his hair had come free from the tie, giving you a physical representation of how all of this effort was affecting him.

“So you’re getting very close, hm?” He asked.

You nodded as you panted heavily. You were so primed that orgasming was literally all you could think about.

“You were telling me I had the wrong house. But now look at the desperate mess you’ve become.” He said, standing close enough that you could feel his body heat. “All because of me. What a spectacular transformation.”

Your wait was concluded by him spanking your pussy with the toy. Then he turned it around, freeing the handle and holding it by the paddle.

You didn’t know what he was doing, until the handle’s rounded end was applied to your cunt. He pushed it firmly against you then manoeuvred it down, touching it to your clit.

Your throat clenched as he kept it there. Maintaining the pressure, he moved it up-and-down on the hood. You were immediately moaning, dazzled by the sensations this brought.

“Where was I up to?” He wondered aloud. Then he spoke before you could answer. “Hm, I totally forgot. I guess I’ll start over- five.”

He worked the handle consistently against your clit, making you violently tremor all over. As he slowly counted, he grabbed you by your chin. In the brief seconds when you managed to open your eyes, you saw the intense way he was watching you, not missing a single reaction.

“Two.” He reached and you began to get yourself ready to let it all go.

Trying to keep the climax back felt like you were attempting to hold fire in your hands, as a safety precaution. The energy wouldn’t stay contained for long, it was too volatile for that. And as you held it, you were still getting a little burnt.

“One.” He calmly said.

“Please Ethan, please, please…” It was an effort to get these words out due to how tight your throat was clenching. But you persisted, because you needed his mercy. “Please, please, Ethan please, please.”

He didn’t say a word as he took the toy’s handle away from you. The next sound came from you - you wailed when he spanked your clit.

You thought that if he said zero in that moment, you would have been able to come as the sensations of that hit reverberated through your system. They were powerful enough to take you down.

But the number didn’t come. When you opened your eyes, you realised that you hadn’t missed him saying it. He had simply left the room without saying it.

You didn’t know where he had gone. As your thoughts raced, your breath continued to come in faster than usual.

You checked around as much as you could manage, but you could only see his belongings. Not being touched felt so much worse than any of the pain from the paddle. The absence was crueller than his excessive teasing.

You were still short on breath when he re-entered the room, with a full glass of water in hand. Even out of his presence you hadn’t been able to relax, you had found no reason to do so.

He hadn’t fixed his hair yet. He approached you, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you panting like a dog?”

“I dunno, I’m not doing it on purpose. I guess I’m just too worked up to catch my breath.” You said, feeling the labour in your lungs.

“Well I don’t need you hyperventilating and passing out.” He said. “Hanging like that isn’t going to impede you from doing breathing exercises with me, is it?”

“I don’t think so.” You said.

He had a drink. “Okay, let’s slow it down. You’re going to watch me take a deep breath and you’re going to do the same. Okay, inhale…”

“But, Ethan…” You said and he frowned. “I need to come.”

“No. What you need to do is calm down and take some deep breaths.” He said.

“But I can’t calm down right now.” You said. “You don’t understand-...”

He grabbed your chin, staring you down in a serious fashion. “You can and you will. And you’ll feel better for it. Okay, inhale through your nose…”

You copied him but your inhale was shakier than his. You held your breath when he did, but you exhaled much quicker.

He started to caress his hand along the side of your face and you let yourself be comforted by this. “Stop freaking out.” He spoke slowly to keep up this tempo of breathing. “Come back to yourself, baby. And when you do, you’ll find it makes everything feel better.”

The feeling of frenzy died off from inside of you as you improved at matching his breaths. Less of your body was stinging. Overall, you felt more sane as you watched his chest expand around another deep breath.

“See? You don’t have to tell me that I was right, because I already know that.” He said. “Water?”

“Yes, please.”

He raised the glass to your lips and carefully tipped it. The water was so smooth on your scratchy throat. Added to everything else, you were properly refreshed.

He stroked your cheek. “Do you want Daddy to let you down?”

“No, thank you.”

He helped you to have another sip before he moved to place the glass down.

When he came back, he ran his hands up-and-down your sides as he stared deeply in your eyes. “Now, let’s get to that other pressing priority of yours: you need to come.”

You didn’t care that he was mocking you. You nodded.

One of his hands went to your cheek and he drew in for a kiss. There was less to distract you, allowing you to enjoy these kisses more.

“Poor little tied up thing, you are about to get so used.” He said, and this comment registered clearly in your pussy, making it flutter.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed himself to your chest as he resumed kissing you. You were looking forward again. The new taste on his lips hinted at what was ahead of you.

You interrupted before he could guide his tongue between your lips. “Ethan, I’m not gonna get pregnant, am I?”

“No, I don’t make sperm. That’s a human thing, it would be totally pointless for me.” He said.

“Oh, okay.” You said.

“Don’t worry about anything.” He said, trailing his fingertips along your spine. “Just concentrate on feeling good, darling.”

He kissed you and as you kept in rhythm with him, you felt into his body more. Now that you were calmer, you could properly feel the silent communication between your bodies.

You wrapped your free leg around his waist when he began to grind against you. All of those excited tingles came rushing back in. The intimacy allowed you to return to that state of receptiveness, making the connection of your bodies feel so significant.

“Don’t be an idiot and hold your breath.” He ordered as he rubbed his dick on your slit. “Keep taking those deep breaths, as much as you can.”

You were staring at his lips as you nodded. “Okay.”

He moved his hand to your ass, gripping you here as he applied himself to you with more pressure. This firm tempo was bringing the throbbing of your pussy back at full force. Wet sounds were accompanying his movements.

“Tell me, what’s Daddy about to do?” He asked.

Your cunt was already eagerly clenching. “Take my virginity.”

“Uh-huh, and…?” He prompted.

“Give me my wish.” You said.

“That’s right. Now be a good girl and let Daddy in.”

Your attention immediately wanted to relocate from your breathing rate when you felt the head of his dick working you open. He eased the length in, making you feel a stretch different to anything experienced before. Your heart moved up into your throat again, your excitement so ready to overflow.

He moved slowly at filling you up. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a quick exhale. Lines formed on his face, showing you his determination.

“Fuck, that is really tight.” He said, puffing out another sharp breath.

You were feeling a little amazed that it was fitting inside. The pressure brought more blood pumping into this area, making you feel even more tender. As his hips gradually came closer to yours, your pussy kept adjusting to accommodate him.

He stopped before getting the entire shaft inside of you. “Cazzo, that is next-level tight and it’s so, so good. I’m definitely gonna have to come in this pussy.”

You were getting used to this feeling of fullness when he started to thrust. Between your walls, he smoothly moved himself back-and-forth. His tip massaged against you in the most intimate fashion. This brought new sensitivities to the forefront of your mind, dazzling you as they promised to take you to climax.

It didn’t take him long to establish a tempo, one plunge confidently following the next. It felt better than the teasing, now all of your tingles were lingering and reaching deeper. At the core of your being, you were getting ready to fall apart for him.

“Sweet girl, please tell me that you haven’t changed your mind, and now you want a gentle fuck.” He said.

“No.”

“That’s very good. Because it would be literally impossible for me to hold back when you feel this amazing around me.” He explained.

As he picked up the pace, you couldn’t help feeling so flattered. It was incredible (you probably wouldn’t have believed it at the start) that you could bring him to the point of losing control too. You felt even more connected to this stranger, feeling like the passion was so mutual. 

“Ethan, are you gonna do another countdown?” You asked.

“No, no more of that. I’m just gonna tell you when I want you to come. And when I say it, you better do it.” He said.

“Okay.” You said, nodding through all of the surging sensations.

You were filled with the most luxurious warmth. The tingles had been replaced by jolts - unpredictable and exciting, they accompanied you on this climb to the peak.

Eventually he could work all of his generous shaft into you, plunging straight for your sweet spot. Your tummy clenched and you were in disbelief over how marvellous it felt. It was what everything had been building towards, and it was better than anything that had come before.

It felt like your nerves were on fire, even when he was rocking his body weight back. Your efforts to keep your breath were now being painted with whines - the desperation you felt was impossible to hide.

The excitement only made the clenching of your inner-walls more powerful, an involuntary clamping around his length. This squeezing didn’t impede his momentum. Instead it added to the intensity, inspiring him to go even faster.

“Fuck, you’re getting me there, sweet girl.” He said as you twitched and kept losing more of yourself. “Are you close?”

Your body was full of earthquakes, the strongest one yet made you cry out before you could answer him. “Yes, so fucking close. Oh, ah…”

“Let it happen. Surrender it to me…” He ordered and you found the feeling of him driving into you slightly changed. There was an extra heat, something that felt like splashing. “Surrend-uh, um, oh fuck.”

This new sensation continued, allowing you to identify it as his cock unloading into you. You savoured the feeling of him marking you so deep.

He drove himself the whole way forward one last time, delivering him to your sweet spot. And he stayed there, grinding on you as you clenched up, every muscle tensing.

Then you started to rupture. On every possible level, you were overwhelmed by the pleasure.

Soon the satisfaction took you away and you transcended absolutely everything. You didn’t feel the ropes restricting you, you didn’t feel him. You could feel only bliss, like a white light guiding you.

You accepted the tiredness as it seeped in, exacerbating how weak you were. You kept your eyes shut, even as you felt your body gently being jostled around.

Before you had the chance to notice the change, you felt yourself being laid on something soft. You opened your eyes to discover that you were back in your bedroom. You could freely move your limbs about again. You were still naked, and so was the man in the room with you.

Ethan didn’t join you on the bed and you got the impression that now was the time to take your last looks at him. You curled onto your side, moving back to almost the same position you had been in when he had awoken you by knocking on the door.

“If I go into your bathroom, will I find some kind of washcloth, to get that load off of your face?” He asked, speaking with no edge to his tone.

“Yeah, it’s the last-”

He cut off your instructions before you could properly get started. “I know where it is.”

Once he was gone, you redirected your gaze to where you kept a bottle of water on the nightstand. With a tender arm, you reached out and collected it.

You got distracted before you could have a sip, your eyes going to the alarm clock’s glowing numbers. 3.33.

Assuming it was broken, you sought the second opinion of the clock on your phone. You picked up the device and activated the screen, just for it to report the exact same time. This was confusing, but you weren’t alert enough to try to figure out the how or why.

Ethan returned, a damp cloth in hand. He crouched down beside your bed and began to gently wipe at your face.

“How do you feel, honey?” He asked. His gaze was just as intense as before.

And you were blushing. “Distinctly un-virginal.”

“You just stay where you are. I don’t need you to show me to the door, or anything.” He said, working the cloth over your entire face.

“So that’s it, then?” You asked.

“Yep. I will get my shit together and just disappear into the night.” He said. “Wham, bam, you can thank me, ma’am.”

“How do I know the deal is officially done?” You asked.

“For fuck’s sake, can’t you just take my word for it? I don’t have a receipt you can keep.” He said.

“Okay.”

“We didn’t sign a contract on paper. We signed it with our bodies.” He said.

“Right, and that’s a very new concept for me. But I’ll try to remember that.” You said.

He was smirking as he finished cleaning the dried cum off of your face. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble remembering every part of this night.” He got to his feet. “Now, rest.”

You watched as he began to leave the room. Even though you knew that you had to let him go, you worried that all of the good you were feeling would go with him. “Goodbye, Ethan.”

He turned off the light on his way out and you kept watching, until he was entirely gone from your sight. You drank some water, listening to the noises of him preparing to depart. It was ending, the only way for your mood to go was down.

You heard the front door close behind him. Now the green numbers on the clock read 3.34.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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reflections from you? ---- does the suspension frame fit back into his jacket? (or does he leave it at her house?) - will she tell her friends? - did she make the right wish? - favourite nickname he called her? - will she try to summon him a second time?

[peachglazewrites]

can you write abby x femme reader where the reader is so down bad for abby but abby only sees reader as her fwb. maybe you can also add abby still being in a relationship with owen. i thought of it while listening to casual by chappel roan and i need to be IN PAIN SO BAD

𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: abby/femme!reader 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: angst, smut (18+ mdni), use of words like tits/cunt/pussy, comphet, unhappy ending 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: pre-established relationship (friends with benefits), pet names (sweetheart, honey, baby, pretty girl), oral (r!receiving), masturbation (abby), outdoor sex (they're entirely alone in a field) 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘: no use of y/n, outfit descriptions, modern au, ellie and dina trying to be good friends, relationship with owen mentioned but no cheating 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 7k

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Abby is a great friend. She's funny, kind, and when you're both single, you hook up. If only you weren't in love with her, and she didn't always run back to Owen.

a/n: hello!! thank you so much for this request! i took direct inspo from casual by chappell roan for this and had a lot of fun! it's smutty, angsty, and the more i wrote the more i realised i was just writing Abby with comphet so there's a lot of that sprinkled in there too </3

i almost want to write a sequel where abby wakes tf up and realises she's a lesbian butttt only if anyone would actually want it…

i hope you enjoy! ✧˖°

̗̀➛ master list ̗̀➛ request your own here

[1:07pm] Abs 🥊💥: oh yeah? [1:07pm] You: Yeah, they look pretty good too [1:09pm] Abs 🥊💥: hmm maybe you should send them so i can double check [1:09pm] Abs 🥊💥: just in case 😇 [1:09pm] You: Just in case? [1:10pm] Abs 🥊💥: yeah [1:11pm] You: Of? [1:14pm] Abs 🥊💥: i was trying to be hot and fun [1:14pm] Abs 🥊💥: you’re making that difficult [1:15pm] You: You poor baby 😔 [1:17pm] You: Here. An apology [1:17pm] You: [sent an attachment] Abs 🥊💥 is typing...

“Hellooo?”  Dina waves a hand in front of your face, snapping your attention away from the dancing dots next to Abby’s name. Ellie and Dina are looking at you when you blink up at them, your nose no longer buried in your phone.

The three of you have sprawled yourselves out in Ellie’s room, the air slightly hazy with the smoke of a joint she had passed around-- a pleasant hum settling in your bones. The smoke slowly curls out of the open window, curtains fluttering in the breeze.

Ellie sits propped up against her bed, legs crossed under her, guitar resting on her thigh as she picks at the strings. Joel just got her new ones yesterday, so she’s been fiddling with it all morning.

Dina has crawled out of the beanbag near her girlfriend to come bother you, kneeling on the floor next to your own.

Jesse was also invited, but got called in to work last minute. Boo.

“What’s got you so giggly over here?” Dina asks, placing a hand on your knee as she leans over, trying to take a peek at your phone.

You pull the device back to your chest, hiding the picture you just sent from her prying eyes. “Nothing,” you say far too quickly. “Just a funny post.”

“Uh huh,” she says, not even a little bit convinced. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“The post.” A smirk starts to form on Dina’s lips, knowing she’s got you.  “Let me see it.”

“Oh, it’s—” You shift your gaze away from hers, looking back down at your phone. “It’s gone now. Y’know. The algorithm, and stuff.”

Ellie snorts, rolling her eyes. “The algorithm? That’s the best you can do?”

“Shut up, Ellie,” you hiss, narrowing your eyes at the girl.

Dina, finding an opening, makes a grab for your phone. You yelp, twisting away from her and holding the phone high above your head, out of her grip-- but that doesn’t stop her. She pounces on you, faster than you’re expecting, straddling you on the bean bag as she wrestles you for the device.

You yell, wriggling out from underneath her and falling to the floor with a thump, Dina following and landing on top of you.

“It wasn’t even that funny! Dee, get off of me!” You screech, laughing as you grapple with each other.

“Aha!” Dina cries, prying the phone from your hands and holding it above her head, pressing a palm to your forehead to pin your down. “Now, let’s see this ‘post’, huh?” She taunts, grinning down at you.

You can do nothing but watch helplessly as she looks to your phone, eyes widening at the screen. You catch a brief glimpse of the photo in the reflection of her eyes; the angle of your body as you lay in your sheets, back slightly arched for the camera, delicate blue lace clinging to your hips and chest.

A low whistle leaves her lips.

“Shit, you look good.” Dina squints at the photo, removing her hand from your forehead to pinch at the screen, zooming in. “When did you even buy that? Where did you buy that?”

You sit up enough to snatch your phone away from her, swiping out of the picture before she can look at it any longer.

[1:18pm] Abs 🥊💥: holy shit [1:19pm] Abs 🥊💥: you weren’t lying

“Dude, are you sending nudes from my fucking house?” Ellie asks, eyebrows raised, fingers pausing on her guitar.

Heat crawls across your cheeks, tapping the screen to swipe out of the messaging app and locking your phone. “They’re not nudes. I’m wearing underwear.”

“Babe, there was so much nipple peeking through that thing,” Dina says, still sitting atop of you.

“Okay, well now I’ve gotta see. Gimme.” Ellie reaches, making grabby hands for your phone.

You groan, letting your phone drop face down onto your chest as you cover your face with your hands. “I fucking hate you two.”

“I love you too,” Dina coos, giggling and rolling off of you to lay next to you on the floor, propping herself up on her forearms.

Ellie settles back with her guitar, strumming lightly at the song she’s been working on. “Who are you even sending that shit to, anyways?’

“Is it that butch from the bar last weekend? She was so hot.”

“Hey, I’m right here?” Ellie says, waving her hand to her girlfriend. Dina blows a kiss in her direction.

The hands stay glued to your face as you swallow, throat suddenly thick. You mumble through your fingers, knowing that neither of them would be able to make out what you said. A hand wraps around your wrist, prying it from your face.

“Can’t hear you,” Dina sings, shuffling closer. Her hand slides up, interlacing her fingers with your own, squeezing. “Come on, who is it?”

You nervously look to Dina’s expectant face, behind her to Ellie who’s not looking over, but has her head tilted to make sure she catches every syllable. You turn your head up to look at the ceiling, concentrating on the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets Jesse got Ellie for her birthday last year, unable to look at your friends.

“I’m texting Abby.”

Ellie misses a chord, a slight fumble as she whips her head up to look at you. Dina’s smile shifts slightly, a hint of something sympathetic behind her eyes. She squeezes your hand gently.

“How is she?” Dina asks, watching your profile.

“She’s good. She just got hired at this new boxing studio in the city as a personal trainer. It’s a really good gig, and she enjoys it a lot.” You smile softly, fiddling and twisting one of the rings on your finger. “Pays a lot better than her old gym, too.”

“How’s Owen?” Ellie asks, voice cutting through the hazy air.

Your body tenses, anxiety curling in the pit of your stomach. You knew this was going to happen.

“I don’t know… They uh—They broke up a couple of weeks ago, so I haven’t seen him.”

Ellie scoffs, turning back to her guitar as she mutters something under her breath. You completely miss it, but Dina doesn’t.

“Ellie,” she scolds, leaning over to whack at her ankle.

Your phone buzzes against your chest, and you can’t help but be thankful for the distraction, tilting it up to peek at the preview on the lockscreen. Two text messages block the squished together faces of you, Ellie, and Dina; your and Dina’s lips pressed to either side of Ellie’s freckled cheeks. Jesse stands behind the three of you, hands pressing you and Dina closer to Ellie, grinning as the girl groans and squirms between you.

[1:25pm] Abs 🥊💥: let me come see you [1:25pm] Abs 🥊💥: we can grab food?

You can’t help the small smile that spreads to your lips, biting your cheek as you unlock your phone to reply.

[1:26pm] You: Tonight? [1:27pm] Abs 🥊💥: please 🙏

“Well, it sounds like things are going well for her,” Dina says, rolling on her side to look at you, bringing the hand still laced with yours under her cheek as she rests on it. “New job, hot girl sending her nudes in the middle of the day…”

You roll your eyes, locking your phone and letting it fall back against your chest. “They weren’t nudes.”

“The technicals on whether they’re nudes or not doesn’t matter when they’re that hot. I don’t even send Ellie pictures like that.”

“You don’t send pictures at all,” Ellie pouts.

“Els,” Dina turns to look back at her. “The last time I sent you a photo of my tits, you set it as my contact photo.”

Ellie’s pout smooths out into a knowing smirk, an amused huff leaving her as she reminisces.

Dina turns back to you, rolling her eyes. “Anyway. I guess this means that things are chill with you and Abby again?”

You shrug, fingers flexing amongst her own. “I mean, yeah? We were always chill.”

Her cheek twitches as she forces her smile, her eyes softening into something that you refuse to acknowledge as pitying. “I know,” she says, tentative. “But things were kind of… tense when her and Owen got back together last time, remember?”

You stiffen, that twisting in your gut making you feel ill. “She was just—She just had a lot going on.”

And she did. Her and Manny had to move all of a sudden, she was starting to hate her old job, her truck broke down, and Owen kept trying to reach out again after he was the one to break things off.

So much was going on in Abby’s life, and you were there to help her through it. Late night calls when she couldn’t sleep, motivational texts to get her through her day, a day off from your own job to help Abby and Manny move everything to their new place. Just like a good friend would, because that’s what you are. Good friends.

Good friends who kiss sometimes, whose nighttime calls end in whimpers and soft moans, her voice flowing through the speaker as you cum on your fingers. Good friends who fuck on the mattress on the floor of her new room while her bedframe leans against the wall unbuilt, too desperate to wait until it’s all set up.

That’s just how things are between you. You’re there for her whenever she needs you, and if sometimes that need is something more carnal, driven by lust? As long as you’re both single, you don’t see the issue.

Except she’s never single for long-- those break ups with Owen never truly sticking. Give them a week or two before he starts texting again, another few after that for Abby to text back. And each time you hope, maybe wrongly so, that she won’t do it. That she’ll realise things with Owen just aren’t meant to be, and that maybe she’d be happier with someone else; someone who gives her both the space and attention that she needs.

That she’ll realise that you’ve been here the whole time.

But she never does, and it stings when she texts you that her and Owen are back together, knowing that it’s not just a casual update, but a temporary end to your arrangement— a hiatus, waiting for when they inevitably break up once more.

So yeah, she was busy, but so were you—busy ignoring her texts and her innocent offers to hang out. You promised yourself that you would spare yourself, that you wouldn’t let yourself get hurt anymore by hoping and wishing for something that was never going to happen.

But just like Abby, it only took you a couple of weeks of texts for you to finally respond back.

And so, the cycle continues.

Dina squeezes your hand, feeling you drift off somewhere in your mind. You turn your head slightly to look at her, feeling the familiar sting of embarrassment at the look in her kind eyes.

“I know, babe. We just worry.”

You frown slightly, brows drawing together. “Why? And whose we?”

Ellie scoffs, the sound sharp over the strum of her guitar. “Nice one, Dina.”

She ignores her girlfriend, holding your gaze. “We—Ellie and I—”

“And Jesse.”

“Ellie--” Dina pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as she tries to tamp down her frustration. “We just want to make sure you’re happy. That this is what you want.” She looks to your again, words spoken soft between you. “All that you want.”

You slowly extricate your hand from hers, pushing up on your forearms to sit. “Of course it is,” you lie-- like a liar. You know neither of them believe you. “This is how it’s always been with Abby. We talk, we hang out, and when we’re single, we ‘hang out’. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not. Of course it isn’t. We just—”

Ellie cuts Dina off. “We hate seeing you get hurt over and over.”

You sit up even further, drawing your knees to your chest, making sure your dress falls over your knees. “I’m not— No one’s getting hurt. Abby’s really sweet to me.”

“Then why does she only text you this much when Owen isn’t around?” Ellie asks, guitar forgotten in her lap.

Embarrassment and shame twirl around each other, dancing atop that churning in your gut. Your body heats with it, blood rushing to the highs of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. “That’s not true.”

It is, and you hate that they’ve picked up on it too.

Dina sighs, sitting up with you, placing a gentle and friendly hand on your knee. “It’s okay that she does, but only if you’re okay with it. I know you…” she trails off, pressing her lips into a thin line, hesitating about going there.

That feeling inside of you bursts, lighting you on fire. You feel it down to the tips of your fingers, morphing and changing into something darker— frustration. “Know what, Dina?”

“Look, you’re an adult. You can sleep with whoever you want,” Ellie cuts in. “But you’re not dumb. You know exactly what she’s doing and you’re letting it happen. And if that’s what you get off on, then fine. But we hate seeing her use you like this—”

“Ellie, she’s not using me. I’m not being used.” You stand up, ripping yourself from Dina. “It’s just sex. We both get something out of it, and if I happen to like her company outside of that because she’s my friend, then that just makes it better.”

You stoop down, collecting your bag from next to the beanbag, shoving your phone inside.

Dina calls your name, reaching out for you. You dodge her, stepping back towards the door.

“I’ll… I’ll text you guys later, or something. I have to go.”

♡ ︎♡ ︎♡

Abby tells you to be ready around seven thirty, that she’ll grab you two some dinner before swinging around to pick you up at your place.

It gave you plenty of time to cool down before needing to get ready, crashing and taking a nap the moment you got home from Ellie’s.

You feel guilty for fighting with your friends. As much as you hate the idea of them being able to see through you, to be able to tell how you actually feel-- they’re just trying to look out for you. They love you, want the best for you.

But them knowing… Your friends seeing how infatuated you are with Abby, how you let yourself be dragged along like a dog on a leash, desperate to please and feel desired by her… It makes you feel ashamed.

So, you ignore the texts you wake up to.

[2:31pm] Deedee 😽: Hey babe. I’m sorry about this afternoon. If you’re feeling up to talking about it please let me know. [2:32pm] Deedee 😽: We can go to that bakery you like. My treat. [2:32pm] Deedee 😽: I love you. Be safe 🤍🤍🤍

[2:43pm] 🌿Els 🦕: [message unsent] [2:50pm] 🌿Els 🦕: sorry. dina said that was shit. [2:54pm] 🌿Els 🦕: be careful [2:54pm] 🌿Els 🦕: always here for u [2:55pm] 🌿Els 🦕: 💚

[3:14pm] J-Man 🐴: You’re seeing Abby again?? [3:14pm] J-Man 🐴: That’s cool… [3:17pm] J-Man 🐴: Why didn’t you tell us?

You slowly start getting ready at four, taking a long ‘everything’ shower, only hopping out once your skin is smooth, soft, and smelling of your cherry blossom body wash.

You spend way longer than necessary picking your outfit; something cute but practical for the cooler weather. You make a bit of a mess, but finally end up laying out a combination of pieces on your plush, purple blankets. A babydoll top to wear under a chunky knit cardigan, a long flowing skirt that brushes your calves. You’ve even selected cute underwear, that same blue lace set that you wore in the photo you sent Abby.

You keep your makeup simple, focusing more on your eyes than anything else. Abby described them as doe-like once, and now you make it a habit to spend a bit more time curling your lashes, lining them with a delicate wing. Some blush and a sparkly lip gloss that faintly smells like bubble-gum completes the look. Soft, feminine.

You’re painting your nails when your phone buzzes on your bedside table, interrupting the music playing through the speakers. You lean over, holding your hands out to try to avoid smudging them, glimpsing at the screen.

[7:13pm] Abs 🥊💥: picking up food now [7:14pm] Abs 🥊💥: be there soon, pretty girl ❤️

Your heart beats wildly in your chest, your bottom lip catching between your teeth as you get back to painting your nails. Thoughts of your friends and their concerns drifting from your mind the closer it gets to seven thirty.

It’ll be fine.

It always is, right?

♡ ︎♡ ︎♡

You press a manicured hand over your mouth, supressing your giggles. “He didn’t…”

Abby nods, grinning around her chewed straw. “Yeah, he did. All ‘prom-posal’ style with a big sign and everything.”

“Oh, Jordan,” you sigh. “I’ve only met Leah once and even I know she’d hate to be asked out like that.” You shake your head, reaching into the bag between you for another fry.

Abby shrugs, sucking the last of her shake from the plastic cup. “Well apparently she liked it enough to say yes, so…”

“She was always going to say yes, though,” you say, popping the salty shoestring into your mouth. “They’re obsessed with each other.”

Abby scoffs, humour in her tone, placing the empty cup off to the side. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

The two of you are sitting in the bed of Abby’s truck, shoes kicked off as you curl amongst the blanket and few pillows piled in the back, softening the metal underneath. She’d driven the two of you out to a field, some property a friend of her dad owns, parking under the open night sky. The moon was high and bright, casting a soft glow across everything it touched, giving you just enough light to see.

She looked sinfully good in your driveway when she came to pick you up; leaning against the truck in her muscle tank and utility jeans, a dark green overshirt open and rolled up to her elbows. Her dad’s dog tags from his brief stint in the military right out of high school hang around her neck, a faded friendship bracelet that matches with her best friend Mel tied around her left wrist.

She had grabbed the two of you burgers and shakes from a local diner Abby loves to visit on her cheat days—a strawberry shake for herself and a sweet vanilla one for you.

The night so far has been taken up with picking at each other’s food and catching up all the stuff you’ve forgotten or have been too busy to text about. A lot of it is just gossip, but you don’t mind. You cherish her company, and could happily sit here for hours talking about anything at all as long as she was the one with you.

“How’s the new studio treating you?” You ask, nudging her lightly. You’re still snacking on the fries in the bag, your shake and burger having long since been eaten.

“It’s good. There’s a lot more women on staff at the new place which is nice.” Abby steals a fry from between your fingers, popping it into her mouth.

“Hey!”

She smirks, shrugging and licking the salt from her fingers. You’re momentarily distracted, brain short circuiting as you watch the trail of her tongue.

You swallow, clenching your thighs together as you look back down to the bag. “Less bro-y?”

She laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you from the inside out, reaching for her own fries. “Yeah, much less bro-y.” She shoves a couple in her mouth, covering it as she speaks around her mouthful. “A couple of my clients transferred over when I moved which is good. Felt bad leaving them behind.”

“Did Yara follow? You liked her.”

Abby nods, wiping the salt off her fingers on the thigh of her pants this time. “I’m covering her sessions, actually. Paying out of pocket. She’s had to take in her brother so everything’s kind of gone tits up for her. Boxing was the only thing she does for herself, so…” She shrugs, leaning back against the truck cabin, head tilted up to look at the stars overhead.

You sit there transfixed, lips slightly parted as you look to the woman next to you. She’s gorgeous, her side profile making butterflies stir in your belly. Her nose is strong, slightly curved at the tip, crooked from it getting broken and reset over and over again. Her cheekbones are prominent and littered in freckles, a jagged scar under one eye that she tells you a different story for every time you ask. Her jawline, though strong just like the rest of her, is also surprisingly soft, slightly rounder under her chin-- one of your favourite places to kiss.

Handsome.

“You’re a good person, you know?”

The highs of Abby’s cheeks darken; you can just make out the colour under the light of the moon.  Her eyes flick down to yours. “You flattering me?”

You shift to face her more, leaning against her muscular arm. You catch the way her hazy blue eyes drift from your own, down to your chest which is pressed against her bicep, flesh peeking out from your top. Her cheeks darken even more, a delightful pink that makes her freckles more prominent.

“I’m being serious. You do stuff like this all of the time, just because you felt like it.” Abby’s eyes wander back up to your own. “You’re really kind. I love that about you.”

Something flashes across her face, so quick that you can’t make it out before she schools her expression again, a lazy smirk tugging on her lips.

“Yeah?” She tilts her head slightly, stray strands of hair that have fallen out of her braid tickling her cheeks. “You sure you’re not buttering me up?”

It’s your turn to flush now, skin prickling with heat under her gaze that bores into your own. “And what would I be buttering you up for?” Your voice is quiet, soft between you.

Her eyes roam across your face, down to your lips where you’ve drawn the bottom one between your teeth. One of her calloused hands comes up, cupping your jaw gently to swipe a thumb across your cheek. The pad of her thumb moves to press against your glossy lip, pulling it free.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, leaning in close. “You tell me.”

Her thumb swipes across the tackiness of your lip, the gloss rubbing off and onto her skin, sparkly and smelling like bubble-gum. She leans in impossibly closer, breath smelling like strawberries from her shake, nose bumping against yours softly.

You snake a hand up her broad chest, manicured fist curling into the front of her tank to pull her down, pressing your lips against her own.

You both sigh at the contact, finally feeling each other again after so long. The kiss doesn’t stay gentle, quickly devolving into hungry, messy kisses, Abby licking into your mouth to claim you.

A soft moan spills from your lips and you tug once more, pulling Abby with you as you lean back against the truck, needing to feel her weight against you. Abby obliges, never being able to say no to you when you make those pretty little noises, shifting to cage you in against the cabin of her truck. One of her arms comes up to support her weight as she slides to fit her body between your thighs that you part for her, skirt bunching up to make room.

“Missed this,” Abby groans, pulling away to kiss hotly down the side of your jaw. Her plush lips latch onto the skin of your neck, nipping and licking where your perfume is the strongest.

“Abby—” you gasp, arms wrapping around her neck, nails digging into the muscles of her shoulders as you arch into her, your head tilting back and thumping against the truck.

She hums, kissing down further to your chest, teeth grazing against the swell of your tits being pushed up by your bra. The hand on your cheek moves down, slowly pushing the sleeve of your cardigan and the strap of your top off your shoulder, giving her more skin to bite and suckle on.

You bring a hand up to thread through her hair, nails scratching against her scalp as you push your chest into her mouth. She groans, a deep rumbly sound that goes straight to your cunt.

“Been thinking about this,” you confess, hips twitching as she cups you through your top, barely hold back a whine as she pinches your hardening nipple between thumb and forefinger.

Abby chuckles, vibrations working across your skin as she palms you. “Yeah, sweetheart?” A particularly hard suck on the swell of your tit, making you moan. “What about?”

Soft pants leave your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as the warmth grows between your legs. “Fuck… Y-Your mouth—”

A grin splits Abby’s lips, eyes crinkling as she looks up at you, taking in the way your head is thrown back. “My mouth?”

You nod, swallowing hard as she drifts down, lips taking over for her fingers as she bites you through your top. You whine, high in the back of your throat, blinking your eyes open to look down at her.

She’s so unbelievably hot, big eyes smiling up at you as she teases you between her teeth, drawing those sweet noises from your throat. She’s playing you like a damn fiddle and she’s loving every second of it.

“Mmhm,” you moan, licking your lips. “Always feels so f-fucking good. Need it so bad--”

Abby breaks away from your chest, fingers taking back over the second her mouth leaves you.

“Where?” Her voice is low as she rises up, nosing along your soft skin while she moves up, up, up-- until her lips are barely brushing yours. “Here?”

She leans in, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth and so, so wet. She pulls away far too quickly, a string of spit connecting you, hot breath fanning over your open mouth as you try to pull her back in. “This where you need it, baby?”

You do, you need her to kiss you again so fucking badly, but you know what she’s asking. So, you reluctantly shake your head, looking up into her fiery eyes. She smirks, shifting to kiss back down to your chest, burying herself in the fat of your tits, like she belongs there. She groans, hand moving down to grip your waist as she looks up at you.

“What about here?”

Your hips shift, back arching as you press her closer, feeling yourself growing wetter as she groans in appreciation. Your panties are soaked, thighs hot and sticky as you squirm beneath her.

Your head shakes, not trusting your voice right now while she’s looking up at you like this.

“Oh, I see,” she says teasingly, hand on your waist straying down, fingers dancing along your thigh to where the hem of your skirt is bunched up between you. Sparks shoot through your veins when her hand touches bare skin, thighs clamping around her hips as you feel yourself throb.

God you’re desperate.

Her touch is featherlight, grazing teasingly up under the fabric of your skirt, higher and higher until she reaches the edge of your panties, soft blue lace that tickles her fingertips.

Her strong hand, so big and warm compared to your own, cups you over the lace, ring and middle finger pressing against your weeping cunt. A shuddering gasp leaves your lips, hand in her hair tightening, the other scrunching the fabric of her tank across her back. She moans, muffled against your tits.

“This is where you need it, huh? Can feel how fucking wet you are,” she grunts, pulling away from your chest to lean up, capturing your lips once more in a desperate, hungry kiss.

You whine and keen into her mouth as she works you over, hips stuttering up to grind against her palm, your clit swelling against the friction of your soaked panties.

She pulls back, panting as the two of your catch your breath, eyes hooded as she looks down at you, black swallowing that lovely blue, tongue peaking out to lick at her swollen lips. Without another word she shifts, slowly sliding down your body, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses in her wake. It’s sensual and so fucking hot, her hand not stilling from where she fucks you through your panties.

She kisses down your sternum, your stomach, your hip, pausing when she gets to the fabric of your skirt. She uses the hand not rubbing at your clit to move it out of the way, smoothing her big hand up your thigh to drag the fabric up, pushing it to bunch at your hips.

Your hips cant up, and Abby gets an eyeful of you for the first time. She swallows, staring down at the lace she instantly recognises from the photo you sent, the blue that sits flush and clinging to the shape of your pussy.

“Fuck, baby,” she groans, moving to rest on her stomach, swollen lips kissing and nipping at the smooth skin of your thighs. “This all f’me?”

“Yes—Abby—All for you,” you whimper, coherent thoughts already slipping from your brain.

She pushes your thighs wider as she moves up, head disappearing underneath the fabric of your skirt as she finally, finally nudges up against your cunt. Her strong nose bumps your clit as she presses against the straining fabric, inhaling deep, tongue pressing thick and flat over the soaked gusset.

You both moan simultaneously, you at the hot, cloying feeling of her tongue against your clothed cunt, her at the first taste of you through the lace.

“Oh god—” You scramble at the fabric of your skirt, tugging it up and tight in your fist to see her pressed between your legs. “T-Take them off—please, I need to feel you—”

Abby’s already got her fingers hooked in the elastic, shuffling back to peel the lingerie off your slick pussy. You bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping an arm around them as you help her slide them off your ankles, biting your lip at the way she grips your calves and manhandles you.

She balls up your panties in her fist, shoving them in the back pocket of her jeans as she settles back down. Her strong hands grip the fat of your hips, pulling you down further on the truck bed so you’re lying flat on your back. She throws one of your legs over her shoulder, the other she presses down to the bed of the truck, opening you wide for her.

“Such a pretty pussy,” she murmurs, breath hot over your cunt, wrapping a strong arm around your thigh, fingers playing lazily in your folds. You squirm beneath her, twitching your hips up towards her face.

“Abby…” you whine, looking down at her, chin touching your heaving chest as you watch, eyes wide and hazy.

She flicks hers up to meet yours, a smirk splitting her lips as she uses two fingers to part you before finally leaning in.

You throw your head back against the blanket at first contact, the flat of her tongue swiping up the entirety of your cunt, the tip lightly flicking against your swollen clit. You take a deep breath, hips twitching under her at the sensation, sharp zaps of electricity setting your nerves alight.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, the hand gripping your skirt tightening.

Abby hums, indulging in a few more kitten licks before she’s wrapping those swollen. pouty lips around your clit, sucking the bundle into her mouth. She suckles, the lewd slurping sound making your cheeks turn bright red, the rhythmic throb punching the air from your lungs.

She releases you with a smack of her lips, flattening her tongue again to run up through your folds, briefly tonguing at your clenching hole as she passes, but always straying back to your clit, never getting tired of the way it pulses in her mouth.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” she murmurs, accent growing stronger the more pussy drunk she gets. She won’t admit it out loud, but she fucking loves being down here, drinking you up. If she had less shame, she’d beg you for it.

You push at the back of her head, pressing the heel of your foot against her back to urge her on, burying her deeper against you. She groans, messily licking up everything you give her. Drifting down, her nose nudging against your clit as she starts to fuck you with her tongue, the pulsing muscle slowly stretching your out the deeper she gets, slippery and so fucking hot.

You gasp, a choked off sound that has your toes curling as you hold her there, your hips coming up to grind against her face-- the way her nose feels against your clit making your head spin.

“Holy shit—Abs, baby—” You can hardly form a sentence, broken noises leaving your throat as you use her, fuck against her like your own personal toy. You could cum just like this, and she knows it.

Abby grunts, her shoulder dropping to the bed of the truck as a hand slips under her hips, hastily unbuttoning her jeans. A low groan, long and vibrating against your cunt leaves her lips as she sinks the hand past her boxers, shifting up onto her knees to get a better angle. You can feel the way her arm moves under your thigh, the way she rubs furiously at her clit as she fucks you on her tongue, drowning in you as you gush against her nose and mouth.

You lift your head up from the bed, blinking your hazy eyes open to look at the sight before you, the way she pulls you closer with the arm wrapped around your thigh, how deep she’s buried in your pussy as she works her own, the sounds of her wet cunt muffled through her jeans.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck—” you pant, needy sounds growing higher and higher in pitch as you watch her. You want to keep watching, want to sear the image of her fucking herself like this into your brain but your head falls back, back arching as you press up into her mouth.

“Gonna— Abby m’gonna fucking cum—”

“F-Fuck-- Yeah?” Abby groans, flicking her tongue over your sensitive clit. “Gonna cum on my fucking face, pretty girl?” She sucks your clit into her mouth, dragging her tongue over the bundle as you squeal and squirm underneath her.

You let go of your skirt, both hands coming to the back of Abby’s head as you tug on her hair, nails scratching against her scalp. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push her away or keep her there.

“I’m cumming—I’m cumming, I’m—” You mouth drops open, jaw slack as a loud moan spills from your lips. Your hips snap up, freezing in place as your thighs tremble, that coiling feeling in your gut snapping.

Abby groans, lapping hungrily at your cunt as you cum, swallowing everything you have to give her. Her hips twitch as she fucks herself, rocking against her hand as she works herself to the edge.

She’s relentless, suckling you and making borderline pornographic noises as she practically eats you alive. She pulls you closer, using that single arm wrapped around your thigh to bury herself deeper, nose coming back in grind against your throbbing clit.

That familiar feeling builds again, quicker and more intense than before.

“A-Abby you’re gonna—” Her tongue slides deep inside you, curling as she messily thrusts. “O-Oh fuck I’m gonna cum again—”

“Do it,” she murmurs, words slurring together as she fucks you, mind hazy and filled with nothing but your pussy against her face. “Need it so bad—"

Something bursts behind your eyes, white hot and all consuming. Your second orgasm shatters you, nothing but a long keening whine escaping your throat as you lock your thighs around Abby’s face, keeping her pressed so tight against your spasming cunt.

“Shit—I’m—” she gasps, a loud groan ripping from her throat as her own hips stutter, her orgasm rushing through her as she works you through your second, trapped between your thighs.

The muscles in your legs give out, thighs falling open and releasing Abby from where you were crushing her. You have to physically pull her away when it gets too much, when her tongue goes from being perfect and just what you need to overstimulating. “A-Abby… Too much…”

She parts from you with a groan, her wet cheek coated in a lewd mixture of her spit and your cum resting against your twitching thigh. She slips her hand out from her jeans, wiping her slick fingers on her inner thigh as her hips collapse down onto the truck bed.

You both lay there, catching your breath, the hand on your thigh rubbing soothing circles, your fingers gently massaging her scalp.

“That was…” You trail off, blinking your eyes open to look up at the stars. “I think you fucked the words out of me,” you giggle, smile growing as Abby laughs against your thigh, hiding her face against the flesh.

“Shit,” she sighs, laughter in her voice. “I really fucking needed that.”

You hum, raking your nails down her scalp. “Me too.”

♡ ︎♡ ︎♡

It takes you a bit to get situated again, gently cleaning each other up with the wipes you stashed deep in your bag, buttoning up jeans and pulling down skirts. Abby refuses to give you back your panties, keeping them buried in her back pocket for her to take home.

You’re sitting up against the truck cabin, back straight as Abby sits in front of you, letting you comb out and re-braid the hair that you messed up with your tugging and pulling. It’s nice, intimate, makes your heart pound wildly in your chest.

“There.” You finish tying off the end, letting the braid fall against her strong back. “You sure I wasn’t too rough?”

Abby snorts, leaning back to lay against your soft chest. You hook your chin over her shoulder, arms snaking around her middle. “Nah. You never are.”

You hum, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Just checking.”

The two of you sit there, basking in the post-orgasm glow as the sky glitters above you. The sex is always amazing, but this is your favourite part; where Abby is loose and happy, free with her affections. Where she welcomes your touches and kisses, offering them in return.

It’s so cruel of her.

A buzz from the corner of the truck bed, lower than the purr of the crickets hiding in the grass breaks the peaceful silence. You try your best to ignore it, to cling to Abby in this moment, but it buzzes again, then once more.

Abby sighs, leaning out of your grasp and over to her bag in the corner, rifling through it for her phone. She turns it on as she rests back against your chest.

“Who is it?” You ask, trying to be as casual as possible.

She sighs, locking the screen and dropping it face first onto the blanket next to you. “Owen. He’s been blowing up my phone all day.”

Your stomach drops, the taste of strawberry on your tongue souring at the mention of his name.

You can’t help but feel a bit guilty for your reaction, knowing that really, Owen isn’t that bad of a guy. You’ve met him a few times, and though it kills you to admit it, you enjoyed his company. Everyone does. He’s just… nice.

“What does he want?”

You know what he wants, what stage of the cycle you’re trapped in.

“He wants to meet up, grab coffee or something.” Her voice is even, though slightly softer than usual. She picks at one of the rips in her jeans, no longer looking at the sky.

“Oh.” You shift, clearing your throat. “Are you going to go?”

The muscles in her back tense against your chest. Her breathing stutters, just for a second, before she breaths out long and slow. Resigned.

“Yeah, probably.” Then quieter, so much so you almost don’t catch it, “I miss him.”

Your heart shrivels up in your chest, shame and embarrassment crushing you under its shared weight.

You know how this goes; it happens the same way every single time. But you usually get a bit more time than this, a few more chances to commit the feeling of her to memory before Owen convinces her to ‘meet up to talk’.

“Why?” You ask before you can stop yourself, too much emotion slipping through your voice. “Why do you keep going back to him?”

Abby just shrugs. “It’s easy. He’s… familiar. Safe.” She pauses, like she’s trying to think of things to say, reasons why it should be obvious. “My dad likes him.”

And that’s it. That’s everything she offers you, because she has nothing else to say.

She leans back, bringing a calloused hand up to cup your cheek. You subconsciously tilt into it, your body seeking out every single touch of hers that she so graciously offers you.

She leans in, lips brushing yours ever so softly. Genuine.

Final.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ request your own here! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[eevees-hobbies]

oh oh oh eve how do you think sakura, ume, togame, and kiryu are reacting to seeing the girl they’re 👀talking👀 to in a cute lil sundress for the first time 🤭

Author’s Note: Hi, Anon! I wasn’t sure if you meant talking as in the “relationship is still brand new” way or “we talk and do OTHER things” way, haha, so I wanted to be safe! If you want NSFW, I can do a part 2! 

Content Warning: Some minor suggestiveness in Umemiya’s and Kiryu’s, but no smut anywhere in this post. I’m shocked, too.

Word Count: 900 words (short and sweet, like you!)

Haruka Sakura

Sakura was convinced that all dresses looked the same.

When you asked him to explain what he knew about which types of dresses existed, he rolled his eyes at you as though it was a burden to explain something so simple, 

“Yeah, you got the floofy ones, and those that…are less floofy?” 

But when you asked him if you could model your sundress for him, he gave an almost apathetic shrug until you pranced out in front of him, giving him a twirl and sticking your tongue out at him. As you complete your circle, you throw your hands up and ask, “What do you think, Kitten?”

Sakura’s face is bright red as he looks at your dress, scanning the areas where it hugs you in all the right places and where it leaves little to the imagination.

“W-what kind of dress is that?!”

You sigh and place a hand on your hip in exasperation, “Don’t you listen? It’s a SUNDRESS! Do you not like it?”

He mumbles something barely above a whisper; in return, you cup your hand around your ear, “Huh?? Can’t hear you.” 

“Are you….are you crazy? Of course…I like it! It looks great on you,” he huffs and looks away. “I think you should wear that thing more often.” 

“Oh, Kitten!” You throw your arms around his neck and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“I’m so glad you said that because I needed an excuse to buy more, and you can carry all of my shopping bags.”

“I didn’t say-“

“Because you’re so strong! Look at these muscles!” You pump his bicep with your hand, which causes him to blush.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll carry all your sundresses.” 

Hajime Umemiya

Gardening during the Summer can be brutal! You often help Umemiya in his garden, and no amount of spraying each other with the water hose is enough to keep you from drenching the soil in the collective sweat you both produce.

While putting away the gardening tools in the shed and removing his brown leather gloves, Ume offers a solution: “Hey, maybe you should wear something more comfortable tomorrow?”

So you take him up on his offer and show up the next day wearing a light blue sundress, comfortable flats, and a wide-brimmed sun hat.

Ume has to shield his eyes from the sun when he looks up at you, but his heart falters when his vision focuses. Umemiya doesn’t usually care about what you wear—to him, you are perfection personified. But in that moment, he realized he might have a thing for you in sundresses.

“A-are you sure you want to garden in that? It looks like it might get dirty easily?”

He so desperately wants to reach out and feel the fabric against his fingers and pull you closer to feel your shape against him, but what you have is so new that he’s trying to be as much of a gentleman as possible. 

“Ume, I can still get down and dirty,” you joke and turn away to grab a watering pail.

You leave Umemiya nodding to himself as he watches you walk away, “Y-yeah, down and dirty.”

Mitsuki Kiryu

When Kiryu sends you links to a few sundresses he found online, you get the feeling that he is trying to tell you something.

“These are cute, yeah? Sent you some money for a few. Surprise me with your favorite one on our date?”

You check the links, scrolling through the name-brand dresses with price tags that make you sweat. Kiryu has impeccable taste, though, so you put some in your cart and place your order in time for the movie date.

As you approach the cinema, briefly feeling self-conscious of what Kiryu might think of you, you consider texting him to say you’ll be late to give you time to go back home and change. Those unnecessary feelings melt away as Kiryu waves at you, a grin on his face as though you are responsible for supplying the planet with light.

“You look so beautiful! I think my heart stopped when I saw you turn the corner.” He takes your hand in his and presses his lips against your knuckles.

“It’ll be hard to control myself in our seats, but for you, I’ll do my best,” he says, looping his arms around yours. Then he walks you into the theater, inquiring if you saw more dresses you’d like to buy.

Jo Togame

Togame laughs the first time he sees you in a sundress. Literally, uncharacteristically doubles over in rapturous laughter. 

“Togame-” with the sole warning of his name, you pick up your purse, fully ready to swing.

He reaches out and grabs your wrist, wiping a tear from his eye, “Hey, calm down. I’m laughing because I feel like the luckiest man alive.”

He pulls you into his arms; your head rests against his chest, allowing you to hear his heart beating loudly against his ribcage.

“You look like the type of girl I’d be too afraid to ask out, and somehow, I’ve tricked you into dating me.”

You scrunch your nose up, “tricked? Togame, please don’t talk like that. You’re hot and the man of my dreams.”

“Even with Choji?”

“Yes, even with our throuple.” 

He laughs again, but this time, you know it’s a laugh to be shared rather than at your expense. 

“Can you twirl for me? I can’t stop lookin’ at you.”

And it’s true. You're so ridiculously pretty that Togame can’t believe someone who looks like you gives him the time of day. He’s obsessed with your sundress look, pointing you out to his friends and saying almost nonchalantly,

‘Yeah, that’s my girl. Doesn’t she look cute?”

Choji waves at you from where he’s standing next to Togame, “I know what your girlfriend looks like.”

“Sorry, thought you could use a reminder.”

[stamp-it-to-me]

a 1999 Palestinian stamp depicting a Palestinian sunbird

[ID: a square postage stamp depicting a small bird. end ID]

gazafunds.com

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hi!! i love your stories and was wondering if you do requests? if not im so sorry to bother you!!!!! and if you do than would it be ok if you could do a bull kiri and bull baku x heifer y/n? again if not im so sorry and hope you have a good day!!

In the Fruit Orchard (BakuKiri x F!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL] 

Pairing: Bull!Bakugou Katsuki x Bull!Ejirou Kirishima x Heifer!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you, a heifer girl, get a night with the hottest bull boys on Aizawa's farm after a trip through the fruit orchard.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Animal Hybrid!KiriBaku x Animal Hybrid!Reader; Mild Sexual Harassment; Reader Makes First Move; Consensual; Foreplay; Mentions of Milk; Breeding Kink; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Praise; Missionary; Doggystyle; Creampie Kink; Cum on Body; Aftercare; Cuddle Pile

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I got this request a few days ago & had to give it a try. I hope you like it! -Jazz 💋💋

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They were the finest bulls on Shouta Aizawa’s farm. 

And this wasn’t just something said between the farm animal hybrids that roamed the 300 acres. Any time Aizawa had any guests over at his farm, such as fellow farmers, investors looking to buy the farm (which usually never happened) and visitors who took advantage of the farmer’s market he threw every spring, they always made a point to comment on the two bulls. 

“They’re so big and strong!” they’d say, watching in awe as one would toss several bails of hay while the other sharpened their horns on a nearby tree. Usually, every cow on the farm would be staring too, teeming with adoration for the two. “That’s why they’re here,” Aizawa would always say. “Nobody can handle those two but me.” 

And that was the damn truth. There was no one that could handle the brute force, cockiness, or hot-headedness of the bull duo. They first came to the farm two years ago.

Apparently, Aizawa and his husband, Hizashi Yamada, had saved the two from an abusive animal ring where they were forced to fight other bulls. You weren’t there when they arrived at the farm, but from overhearing from your friends, they were coated in bruises, scars, and starved. Katsuki and Ejiro – or “Kiri” – they were named. Since their arrival, they’ve been celebrities on the farm. 

You came to Aizawa’s farm last spring after your last owner died. You’ve enjoyed the rolling fields, endless apple trees, and comfortable pens ever since…but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy Katsuki and Kiri more. You’ll admit the first time you saw them, you were intimidated.

They were big, buff, and beautiful. Similar to centaurs, their upper halves were nothing but rippling muscle, from their thick pectorals right down to their rock-hard abs, while their bottom halves were of a bull––nothing but fine, dark hair covering thick muscles right down to their calves, thighs, and two hoofed feet. They always walked around with their bull rings glinting in the sunlight and steam protruding from their nostrils as they worked, sweat dripping down their skin in the hot sun. 

You never talked to them before. You were more than happy to just watch. You weren’t sure you’d even know what to say to them. You’d probably trip over your words and feel too intimidated because of how big they were and how they towered over your small frame, no matter your size or shape. You imagined that this is why so many cows and heifers loved them so.

It wasn’t private knowledge that Katsuki and Kiri were a hit with the ladies. You’d catch them watching the bull duo with heart eyes all the time along the wooden gates where the cows were separated from the bulls. If they never watched, you’d hear them gossip about the two all day and night, whether during breakfast or at night in your pens. “God, they’re just so fucking hot!” they’d dreamily sigh. “I wish I could have one of them for my own.” 

“Please, I’d take both of them,” another would chuckle. “They’re too sexy to choose just one. If I wasn’t already mated, I’d have them both give me their babies.” The lady cows would laugh while you’d just lay in your fluffy bed in your pen, your best friend and fellow lady cow Mina lying beside you. She’d turn to you in the late night when the pens were finally silent, her golden eyes glowing in the dark. “You’re always so quiet when the girls gossip about those two,” she’d whisper.

You’d shrug, staring up at the starry sky through the window-like hole above your pen. “Because I’m not interested in talking about those two like they’re pieces of meat,” you’d grumble. “Sure, they’re attractive, but it’s not necessary or appropriate.” 

“Fair point,” Mina said, “but come on, you’ve gotta admit that they’re hot as fuck.” She’d smirk at you with her pink lips and snout as she rubbed her big belly that she got from Denki, one of the male cows here. “I would go for Kiri, personally. He’s such a sweetheart. What about you, Y/N? Who'd you go for?” 

You just told her neither and went off to sleep as she giggled beside you, knowing you were full of shit. The truth was you’d choose both of them. You loved how sweet and friendly Kiri was, his bright smile and red locks always filling you up with warmth whenever you’d see him grazing or soaking up the sun in the mornings. But you also were attracted to Katsuki’s gruffness and how aggressive he got to anyone or anything that threatened his home. He once nearly pummeled a crooked investor who wanted to steal Aizawa’s farm from him, prompting the guy to never come back. 

You couldn’t deny the butterflies they gave you whenever you’d see or hear those raspy, deep voices that filled your dreams every night. You knew you had a deep crush, but you weren’t sure if you wanted them to be with you completely.

That is, to breed you. You were the only heifer on the farm so it was quite intimidating and alienating to be the only female cow who wasn’t pregnant, didn’t have babies, or wasn’t with another cow or bull. Plus, you weren't even sure you wanted someone like Katsuki and Kiri. You’d prefer someone who wasn’t on every cow’s mind and perhaps in every cow’s pen at night. 

That all changed the night Aizawa and Hizashi went out of town for the weekend. It was for their 7th-year anniversary and they would be gone until Monday morning. They told you all about it when they gathered the farm animals for a group meeting the beginning of that week during breakfast. “We’re going away!” Hizashi proudly announced. “To celebrate seven years of our amazing relationship!” 

Aizawa blushed when his husband leaned his head on his shoulder, slipping an arm around his waist. “When we’re gone, every single one of you will be on your best behavior,” he sternly said. “I’ll keep the house locked up, but the farm will still be open for visits from the public. Anyone tries to break in, the bulls know what to do. Otherwise, just be good and don’t make a mess.” 

Make a mess, the animals didn’t. But being good? That rule was never going to be respected.

After your owners left Friday night, Saturday night was as wild as one could get on a farm. A party was thrown in the barn house where music, dunking for apples, and drinking from the secret whiskey stash Aizawa stored away all took place. You initially didn’t want to go, but Mina talked you into it. “When are we ever gonna get a weekend where the farmers aren’t here?” she groaned. “C’mon, just for an hour!” 

You begrudgingly agreed though an hour turned into about three insufferable ones. You sat in the dimly-lit barn on one of the hay bails as a stool, watching as Mina danced with Denki and drank her fill of beer. The party was still in full swing, noise and hollering of the animals all around you that made you very uncomfortable. You sat stiffly with your cow-like legs together, your human hands in your lap. You did have to admit that you looked nice in your flowery sundress that Mina forced you to wear. You were secretly hoping to run into Katsuki and Kiri tonight, but so far, you haven’t seen them. 

You sighed, sipping on your iced tea mixed with a bit of whiskey. You wanted nothing more than to leave this place. “Hey, Y/N!” a faintly familiar voice shouted to you. You turned, finding Shindo waving at you as he made is way over to you on his powerful legs with a swing of his tail. He was one of the most beautiful horses you’ve ever seen with the finest black hair along his bottom half like on his head. His top half was just as pretty––nothing but lean muscle and the prettiest, green eyes you’ve ever seen. 

But not as pretty as Katsuki and Kiri. “Oh, hey, Shindo,” you giggle. “I haven’t seen you all night.” Shindo's tail swayed giddily as he looked down at you. “The other horses and I were down by the lake to cool off,” he explains. “It’s a real nice night. You should come out with me for a walk.” 

You blinked up at him, wondering if he was serious. “You’re asking me?” you questioned. No hybrid, especially a male, had ever asked to d anything with them before. “Yeah!” he laughed. “I was just goin’ down the trail to check out the apple trees and I don’t mind your company. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re enjoying the party too much. How come you aren’t dancing?” His smile grew, playfully so. 

You flushed, toying with the hem of your sundress. “I don’t really dance in these types of settings,” you sheepishly laughed. “Too many drunk shenanigans.” As if on cue, one of the cows––that being Sero—flew down the staircase leading up to the upper floor, crashing into one of the wooden tables. 

“Fair point,” Shindo chuckled. “C’mon, maybe we can get some before the drunk crowd does.” He put his hand out for yours, patiently waiting for your answer. 

You looked down at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. What if someone saw you leave with him and got the wrong idea? What if Katsuki and Kiri saw? ‘Who cares what they think?’ your voice of reason hissed. ‘You’re not even mated to them! They probably don’t even know you exist!’ 

“Okay,” you finally giggled. “Why not?” You put you hand in Shindo’s and let him lead you away from the barn and into the summer night. 

Once away from the barn, the night was quiet and peaceful. Only the buzz of insects, the hooting of a nearby owl, and your and Shindo’s hooves clicking across the path could be heard as you both walked along the dirt paths to the apple orchards, all planted by Hizashi. You often went here to relax and enjoy the quiet for a while on warm, sunny days. Shindo suddenly stopped and pointed at the dozens of apple trees in the twilight with the reddest, ripest apples hanging from their branches. “Here, they go!” He exclaims excitedly. 

He skipped over to one of the trees and you followed, giggling. He stopped at one and picked an apple, immediately chomping into it. His eyes close, taken aback by the taste. “Mmm, that’s good. Grab one for yourself.”

You did so, walking up beside him to grab an apple. You bit into it immediately, loving the sound of your teeth chomping along the crisp, juicy flesh. “Wow, this is good,” you hummed. As you ate, the summer breeze caressed your skin and hair, making the apple trees sway. “And it is a nice night,” you sighed, closing your eyes against the breeze. You felt so good. So peaceful. 

When you opened your eyes, you found Shindo starting at you. There was a strange, almost intimate look in them that you couldn’t quite make sense of. “You look beautiful tonight,” he commented. You snorted as a natural reaction, shaking your head at his words. “Really! But I’m sure your mate tells you that all of the time, right?” 

As he flashed a white-toothed smile at you, our heart sank into your stomach. “Uh, no,” you confessed, looking down at your apple. “I-I don’t have a mate. I’m still a heifer.” Even saying it, you felt pathetic. While it was nothing to be ashamed about and you knew you didn’t want any kids right now, you looked around at so many of the girl cows on the farm and wanted what they had: a mate. 

“Seriously?” Shindo asked, shocked. “How’s that possible? You’re so cute!” You flushed at his compliment, looking off into the night. “It just never happened, I guess.” 

“So you’re not with that bull duo all the cows seem to love?” Shindo asked. The farm is sayin’ they’ve got a thing for you.” You stared at him, wide-eyed, your heart pummeling in your chest. “W-What?” you dumbly asked. There is no way that is true. It can’t be. Shindo shook his head, tossing the apple aside. “That’s too bad,” he tutted, “because I’ve got a thing for you, too. I’ve had it for a while now, to tell you the truth.” 

Your eyes bugged out of your skull. “What?” you asked once again, louder this time. Shindo didn’t speak as he began to slowly walk toward you, a sensual look in his forest-green eyes. You began to walk backward, squeaking when you slammed against a tree. “Wait, Shindo…how would this even work? Y-You’re a horse!” 

Shindo just laughed as he drew nearer to you, putting his big hands on your waist. “Interspecies relationships happen a lot around here,” he chuckled. “Didn’t you know?”

His fingers began to slowly slip down to your dress, creeping up above it to lie on your bare fur. “I can treat you way better than those bonehead bulls, Y/N,” he whispered. “You know it, deep down.” He began to lean in for a kiss and you put your hands out to stop him, laying them flat against his bare chest. “Wait, Shindo,” you protested. “I-I don’t even know you that well. We shouldn’t–“ 

“I think she’s telling you no, horse face,” a raspy, familiar voice growled from beyond the trees. Shindo stopped, glaring into the darkness.

Standing there at the end of the path was Katsuki, fists balled up at his sides and steam billowing from his nostrils like in a cartoon. You heart flipped at the sight of him. “You?” Shindo scoffed, smirking at him. “What, you saw me with her and decided to make a move? You’re just too slow, ‘Suki.” 

“Wrong answer,” another raspy yet slightly higher voice said. From behind Katsuki outstepped Kiri, equally as intimidating with his long, red hair and crimson eyes. “We saw her with you, yes, but we’re not here to ‘make a move’. We’re here to stop you from takin’ advantage of this girl when she clearly isn’t interested and then ghosting her like you did to the horse girls on your old farm.” He tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “And a few heifer girls too, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Shindo visibly gulped, realizing he’d been caught, while you stare at him in awe and rage. Did he see you as just that? A poor, lonely heifer to take advantage of? 

Katsuki stepped closer, his hooves stomping against the ground. “You need to leave her alone,” he growled. “Tonight and after tonight. If I catch you tryna make a move on her again, you better believe these hooves are goin’ straight into your head.” Shindo was visibly intimidated, but he still tried to play like he wasn’t. “Is that a threat?” he whispered. 

Kiri stepped beside Katsuki, crossing his arms over his buff chest. “That's a promise, horse face,” Katsuki simmered. “Now get out of here unless you want me to fulfill that promise right now.” Shindo looked between them and you, weighing his options. Then, with a huff and a swish of his tail, he turned around and galloped up the trail back toward the barn. 

You relaxed against the tree, glad to be away from him. “You alright, Y/N?” Kiri worriedly asked.

You immediately stood up straight, realizing you were here with the farm’s favorite bulls, alone, in the apple orchard. Other than that, you also realized that Kiri said you name. They know your name. You cleared your throat, recovering. “Yeah,” you exhaled, dusting off your dress. “Thanks, but I could’ve handled that myself.” The two chuckled, the deep rumble of their laughter making your stomach flip. “Never said you couldn’t,” Kiri replied. 

“You ain’t the only cow girl he’s tried to hit on here, y’know,” Katsuki added as he ripped off an apple from a branch above him. “He’s known for being a player and with you being a heifer, that only made it worse.” He bit into the apple, taking a big chunk out of the juicy flesh. “You should be more careful. Farm or not, you’ve got some creeps lurking around here.” 

Kiri elbowed him, stomping his hoof. “Don’t scare her, Katsuki,” he hissed before giving you a reassuring smile. “He’s just being dramatic, cutie. Only thing you need to worry about is not ruining that pretty dress of yours.” You flushed at his words, not used to receiving such compliments, whether blatantly flirtatious or not. “Well, we’ve taken up more of your night, so we’re gonna head off.” 

They began to walk off up the path, passing by you as they did. “You’re going back to the party?” you blurted.

Kiri shook his head. “Nah, not our style. Plus, it’s too nice of a night to be cooped up in a barn.” They turned around and began to leave you again like none of tonight ever happened. You found yourself wanting them to stay for a while, especially after that scare with Shindo.

“W-Well, if you want, I was gonna take a walk down the trails here,” you shyly said, piquing their interest. “You two are welcomed to join me, if you want.” 

The bulls turned toward you, looking shocked that you even said anything. But then they each cracked a smile that knocked the air out of you. “A walk, huh?” Kiri chuckled. “We happen to know about some other treats down there the way the others don’t know about. But you can’t tell anyone.” 

You nodded, signaling your silence. “Then let’s quit standin’ here and go,” Katsuki growled, already making his way down the trail though he stopped to wait for you to catch up. The three of you then begin to walk along the dirt trail, taking your sweet time among the summer air. “So you came last spring, right?” Kiri asked. “What was your other farm like, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

There, while walking through the apple orchard, you talk to each other. You tell them all about your  old farm and its beautiful daisy fields until your owner passed from their disease. They told you all about their past too, sparing you any sad details. You also talked about other things you liked and enjoyed, like spending your past time swimming by the lake on the hottest days of the summer and playfully arguing over snow (Katsuki hated the cold). With every conversation topic, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable with them. 

Finally, you three reached the fruit orchard that was blocked by a couple of thorn bushes. Kiri pushed back a couple bushes to clear a path for you, revealing dozens of trees and bushes carrying delicious fruit. “Aaand here we are,” he chuckled. You gasped, your eyes widening at the delicacies that surrounded you. You began to totter through the fruit orchard, ogling at the peaches, mulberries, and… “Blueberries bushes?!” you squealed, gaping at the two bulls who watched you in adoration. 

“And strawberry ones too,” Kiri added, picking a ripe, red strawberry from a bush. All for the picking. Some of the others know about this place, but are too afraid to come down ‘cause it’s too close to the road.” He picked another strawberry and plopped it Help yourself, cutie.” Flushing again from the pet name and his fingers brushing against yours, you took the berry and bit out of it. As soon as the sweet juice hit your tongue, you were in heaven. “Good, isn’t it?” he snickered, watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, wondering how the strawberries got so sweet. “Mmm-hmm,” you hummed. 

You turned to Katsuki as you chewed on the rest of the berry, finding him chomping on a handful of blueberries he picked. When he turned to you, you started giggle at the sight of blueberry juice all over his mouth. “What?” he growled. 

Kiri began to laugh too, holding his stomach. “You’ve got some blueberry juice on your lip,” you giggled, pointing at your own mouth. Katsuki’s face turned a stark red as he went to wipe the juice off…but then he stopped. A crooked, mischievous smile suddenly pulled onto his lips. “Well, you gonna get it off for me?” he asked, obviously joking. 

You didn’t know if it’s the full moon, the fruit, or the whiskey you drank earlier, but you were suddenly flooded with confidence that made you slowly walk over to him. His smile faded as you did, wondering what you were up to. You shocked both them and yourself when you reached out to slide your thumb across his lip and suck on the juice from the digit. Katsuki stared at you for a moment, silent. It was enough to make reality kick in for you.

“Sorry!” you gasped. “I-I don’t know why I did that! I-I…” You paused, feeling humiliating overcome you. “I…I need to leave.” 

You began to turn around and quickly run up the trail, but Katsuki stopped you with a hand on your wrist. His eyes were fierce and intense like a raging, hot fire. “No,” he growled. “You finish what you fuckin’ started.” Before you could take a breath, he was yanking you toward him and pressing a rough, passionate kiss to your lips. His lips were soft and tasted sweet and tarty from the blueberries. One of his hands, rough from years of farm work, pressed against your cheek to deepen the kiss, the feeling of his touch making you dizzy. 

You pulled away with a soft gasp when you suddenly felt Kiri push against you, feeling his muscles through his thin V-neck. His hands roamed over your hips while Katsuki busily kissed and sucked on your neck, no doubt trying to give you hickies. Your eyes fluttered at their ministrations, the feeling of them everywhere around you heaven.

“We didn’t wanna say anything after Shindo earlier, but we could never deny how cute you were,” Kiri whispered. His hands trailed up your arms to your spaghetti straps. He pulled one down to kiss your neck, his kisses sweet and less harsh than Katsuki’s. “We’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned. “We always knew you were the one, but we never wanted to push you. If you want this, we’ll do anything you want from your command, sweetie.” 

He paused his movements just as Katsuki did, his crimson eyes looking into yours. Neither one of them moved, wanting your permission before proceeding. The ball was completely in your court, and unbeknownst to them, you were ready to give them their winning score. You then turned your head to press your lips feverishly against Kiri’s, earning a moan of surprise. When you pulled away, his shocked eyes stared into yours, as gorgeous as the full moon above. “Yes,” you exhaled. “Take me. I want the both of you, too.” 

Joyful smiles curled onto Kiri and Katsuki’s lips. Before you could even breathe, you were suddenly out of your dress, completely naked in the silver moonlight. For a while, the duo played with your breasts, kneeling down to suckle and lick against the hardened peaks of your nipples. You moaned and whimpered to the moon, only that, the stars, and the trees witness to your activity. You knew that eyes could be anywhere––from the passing cars on the street beyond the wooden fence; coming down the trail from the barn party––but you found yourself not caring. Truthfully, the idea of being caught with the hottest bull duo on the farm turned you on even more. Your fantasies got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were suddenly on your knees with Kiri and Katsuki standing over you. Both of them stripped off their shirts and pants, leaving themselves completely naked. Your eyes eagerly drank them in. You didn’t know where to look––at their gorgeous bodies illuminated by the moonlight or their big, fat, thick, veiny bull cocks hanging in front of you. 

“Well?” Katsuki asked, raising a brow down at you. “You gonna put ‘em in your mouth or just stare at ‘em?” You didn’t need to be told twice. You started with Kiri’s cock first, popping him into your mouth while you eagerly stroked Katsuki, the pre-cum dripping down his cock making for some great lube. Then you switched, alternating between each of them with all the eagerness of a good little heifer slut despite how much your jaw ached. They were huge! However, the duo’s soft moans and grunts of pleasure egged you on, making you stroke a little harder and hollow your cheek out more. 

Kiri adoringly stared down at you, watching you take Katsuki’s cock in your mouth. “You’re so cute, sweetie,” he breathlessly chuckled. “Look at you takin’ both of our cocks like a good little heifer girl.” Katsuki moaned in agreement, his crimson eyes blown with lust as he ogled down at you. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” he grunted. “Havin’ us all to yourself.” 

His hips began to slowly rock into your mouth, causing his fur to brush against your face and his heavy balls to hit your chin. You moaned around his cock, your jaw and hand burning from the constant work you were doing.

“Mmmm!” you replied. That was code for “hell yes, I confess”.

To make it clear, you opened your throat for him, allowing him to thrust into your mouth a little deeper. When you felt his cock nearly hit the back of your throat, you gagged. He grunted loudly as one hand moved to grip your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good!” he groaned. “I’ve thought about fucking it so many times.” 

Kiri snickered as he began thrusting into your hand, wet and sloppy with saliva and pre. “So much for romance, but even I’ve thought about that too,” he breathlessly confessed. "Guilty as charged. And she looks way more beautiful in real life than in my dreams.” Katsuki suddenly pulled his cock out of your mouth with a moan, his shaft wet with your spit. You gasped and caught your breath, your body hot and pussy wet. 

Kiri stooped down to press a kiss to your forehead, his hand caressing your sweaty cheek. ”Think you can take us deeper, cutie?” he asked. You slowly nodded, your head dizzy and slightly winded. Though your jaw ached, you didn’t want to stop. You wanted to please them. “One at a time, now. And let us know if you need a break or if you wanna stop. Just give us a tap.” The redhead hybrid demonstrated, tapping his own thigh three times. 

Then Kiri was sticking his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. “Fuuuck,” he moaned, beginning to roll his hips into your hot, wet mouth. You gagged and sputtered around him, your pussy throbbing in time with his dick in your throat. “Mmm, like that,” he moaned. “So. Fucking. Good.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust that has your throat squeezing around him and your jaw begging for relief. Katsuki thankfully gave your hands a rest, opting for just jerking off to the sight of you taking Kiri.

Then Katsuki was next. His thrusts were rougher and faster as he fucked your throat, urging you to take him deeper down your throat until all you could taste and smell was him. “Yeah, just like that,” he urged, his grip on your hair tightening. “Deeper, sweet pea. Take me deeper!” You did so, whimpering as you expanded your throat as if to yawn to the best of your ability while he was still plunged in it. He looked down at you adoringly, the sight of it like a piece of heaven to you. “Good girl,” he moaned. 

At this, you gushed all over yourself as you hugged your thighs tight against each other. Kiri noticed, stroking his cock to the sight of you on your knees with dick deep in your throat. “Ooooh, I think someone likes being called a good girl,” he chuckled. You suddenly felt his hand creep down between your thighs and moaned around Katsuki’s bull dick as they brushed against your sobbing, wet heifer pussy. “You’re leaking all over, cutie,” he tutted. “That just won’t do. All of that milk has to go somewhere.” 

Katsuki took his cock out of your throat, ready for what was coming next. You took a deep breath and recovered, spit all over your mouth and chin. Kiri bent down to kiss you, never mind that you just had another cock in it. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected to your bottom lips. “Can we taste you, cutie?” he whispered against your lips. “And we’ll take turns.” He smirked up at Katsuki who looked ready to devour you. 

You slowly nodded, your body begging for release. “Y-Yes, please,” you weakly replied. In the blink of an eye, you were sitting with your back against Kiri’s chest and Katsuki’s face stuffed in your pussy, your furry legs hooked over his muscular back. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you cried out, not at all afraid if anyone or anything might hear. You wanted them to. 

Katsuki hummed appreciatively as he slurped eagerly at your cunt, his long tongue sliding in and out of your tight hole. “There’s so much here for me, sweet pea,” he huffed. “You’ve been wantin’ this too, haven’t you? You wanted this big tongue fucking your pretty pussy?” He continued on, alternating between sliding his tongue inside of you and up to your clit, sucking on it generously. You whined and squirmed against his mouth, not knowing which way was up and which was down. 

Kiri slid his hands to your chest, proceeding to pinch and tweak your hard nipples. “Answer him, cutie,” he teased. “You may look hot squirming around like that, but that ain’t an answer he wants.” He pinched one of your nipples a little too hard, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to mingle and shoot within you. “Yes!” You whimpered. “I thought about this! I wanted this for so long!” 

Kiri smirked, pecking your lips. “Good answer,” he praised. “Make her cum, Kats. I want this cute little heifer seein’ stars.” Katsuki’s crimson eyes peeked through the V of your thighs as his tongue thrashed against your pussy, pushing you over the edge. Your back arched and your voice rang out in the orchard, into the night. ”Cum for me!” Katsuki demanded. "Cum all over my tongue. Do it now!”

And like a good little heifer, you did. Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, waves of bliss washing over your body as you came all over Katsuki's eager lips and tongue. Finally, he drew back and hungrily stared at you, his mouth shining with your juices. "Now it’s my turn, Kiri announced. 

The two switched so now Katsuki was behind you while Kiri eagerly ate your sensitive cunt, moving at a slower pace than Katsuki due to you just cumming. But you didn’t need it slow. You needed it faster. You needed to get to that second climax. “Faster!” you begged. “Please, Kiri, go faster!” The redhead obliged, moaning appreciatively into your pussy as his jaw worked like it was overtime. Your hand threaded through his red locks while the other gripped his shoulder, moans and whines of pleasure dripping from your lips. 

From above you, Katsuki suddenly moved to your side so the tip of his angry, red cocked was now at eye-level with yours. “Look at what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled as pre dripped from the head. “Just from that voice and this body.”

You didn't reply. You only leaned in and latched your lips onto his cock, sucking on the head. The blonde chuckled and stood on his hips for a better angle, beginning to rock his hips into your mouth. “You need more?” he cackled. “Such a little slut behind all that sweetness. Make her cum, Kiri. I wanna feel how tight her throat can get when she’s gushin’ all over your face.” 

The moon shone in Kiri’s eyes as he looked up at Katsuki mischievously. “Mmm, my pleasure,” he purred. “You can cum for me again, can’t you, cutie?” He dove back in, his tongue fucking your hole until you were squealing around Katsuki’s cock. “Tell us more about how much you wanted this,” he demanded. “Tell us all about that dirty mind of yours.” 

You were more than happy to. You wanted them to know all about the nights you’ve spent touching yourself in your pen, dreaming about them in your bed with you. Katsuki’s cock popped out of your mouth as you felt your orgasm beginning to peak. “I-I’ve wanted to touch you,” you moaned. “Wanted to taste you…wanted to feel both of you.” 

You gasped as your second orgasm flooded through you, Kiri still eagerly licking your pussy and his hands gripping your hips. It was all so good. All too much. “I’ve wanted you to touch me too!” you babbled, delirious from the pleasure as your orgasm rocked you. “Taste me…breed me!” As soon as the words flew out of your mouth, you covered your mouth. Kiri stopped licking you and Katsuki paused from stroking his cock, both of them staring at you in awe.’Oh, shit,’ you thought, panicking. ‘What did you just say?’ 

“You…have?” Katsuki carefully asked, his brows furrowing at you in an effort to make sense of your words. You felt embarrassment flood inside of you, replacing the satisfaction and bliss of your two orgasms. “I…I…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. You were scared to even speak in fear of saying the wrong thing and scaring them off. 

Kiri sat up between your thighs, stroking your stomach comfortingly. “It’s okay if it’s just a fantasy, sweetie,” he soothingly said. “We’re not judging. But if that’s something you want, you know that we’ll therefore be your mates.” Katsuki nodded, his fingers in your hair. “No other male could touch you,” he added, a fierceness in his eyes. “And we wouldn’t let ‘em.” 

“Unless you decided we didn’t work out,” Kiri quickly added to not make you feel uncomfortable. “But even then, you’d still have our kids. Would you be okay with that?” The both stared at you expectantly, patiently waiting for your answer. 

You were silent, your head spinning. Did you want that? Sure, the idea of being filled with their cum and their babies turned you on, but it was just that: a fantasy. Something that turned you on. You wanted to have children one day and finally graduate from your heifer status. You also wanted these two to be the ones to do it. But you had to be rational about this. There would be time for that later. “Maybe we’re moving too fast,” you admitted, still feeling foolish for actually craving this. “I want to get to know you two more.” 

They both nodded though still gave you that eager look like they wanted you to say something more. You sat up to take their hands in both of yours. “But,” you continued, your voice breathless and airy, “maybe we can play pretend? And maybe I can still be your mate without the babies?” You peered up at them through your lashes, hoping they’d agree. 

Their smiles were all you needed to let you know that your proposition was a definite hell yes. “I don’t see why not,” Kiri replied. “Whatever makes you comfortable, cutie.” You grinned happily, your heart soaring. Katsuki rolled his eyes, exasperated and extremely horny. “God, can we stop talking and just get to fucking her brains out?” he growled. 

Before Kiri could respond, the blonde was helping you onto your knees, coaxing you into all fours. “I’m goin’ first since you were too slow,” he grumbled. Kiri just laughed, letting him take the lead. Your body trembled as Katsuki situated himself behind you, his big body nearly covering yourself. His hands gripped your hips while his cock pressed against your entrance that was dripping with anticipation down your thighs. He felt big even now. You knew it was going to be a stretch to take him. 

Ready, sweet pea?” he asked, his gruff voice making you tremble. You nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “Let me know if it’s too much.” Then his cock was sliding inside of you, but just the head at first. Your mouth fell open on a gasp as you felt your pussy stretch around his girth. Thank God for those two orgasms. Katsuki didn’t move. He stayed completely still, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. After a few minutes of slow breaths and readjusting, you felt comfortable enough to take more of him. “I’m okay,” you squeaked. “Go ahead.” 

He slid inside of you, inch after inch of bull cock filling your pussy to the brim. You had never felt so full before. It was an indescribable feeling, especially when he began to finally fuck you hard, rough, and fast the way you craved. The harder his hips slammed into you, the more your pussy gripped him. You were a moaning mess, your voice loud and your breasts jiggling as Katsuki pounded into you from behind. “Harder, ‘Suki, please!” you sobbed. “Fuck me harder!” 

Kiri paused for a few beats, wondering if you were serious or real. “Don’t keep her waiting, Kats,” Kiri chuckled, his cock sitting against your lips. “Give her what she wants.” And the blonde did so. He gripped your hips for dear life, propped a leg up, and plunged his bull cock deeper into your soaking, tight walls that squeezed him tighter than a vice. “Such a good girl,” he grunted. “Takin’ this big, fat bull dick like this. Bet you’ve been thinking about me fuckin’ you.” 

You sucked him in deeper and deeper, causing his cock to glide against your G-spot. You wailed to the skies above, in love with his cock. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you loudly sobbed. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” Kiri chuckled from in front of you, his wet cock sliding against your lips. “You’ve got another big, fat bull dick to take care of, cutie,” he chuckled. “Open your mouth for me.” 

You did so, allowing his cock inside of your mouth. The two then began fucking you at the same time, thrusting into your tight holes in unison that had your body shaking and your mind going blank. Your pussy continued to squelch and clench around Katsuki’s cock, his balls slapping against your clit that was just about to explode. You moaned around Kiri’s cock and popped your mouth off of him, panting heavily.

“’S-Suki,” you warned, “I’m gonna…gonna…” 

“Me too, darlin’,” he groaned. “Your tight little pussy is gonna make me cum.” He then reached over your shoulder to take your chin into his hand, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip.“You gonna take it?” he snarled in your ear. “You gonna take all this cum deep in your cunt like my good little heifer? You want me to make you a mommy?” 

“Yes, Katsuki, please!” you screamed as your orgasm grew nearer. “I’ll take it all! All of it for you!” 

It didn’t take long for you to finally burst around his cock the way you needed to. You came with a long, loud moan that tears out of you as your third orgasm washed over you. The moment your pussy clenched around Katsuki’s cock was the moment he came too. He gripped your hips and swore to the heavens before he pulled out of your inviting, wet pussy. Only lewd sounds of his fist furiously pumping his wet cock were heard before a loud groan left his lips. “Fuck!” he bellowed as he finally burst all over your ass, coating your fur in his cum. 

“Wooow,” he drew out, laughing. “That’s a lot of cum, Kats! I think you ruined her!” “Think you can take me too, sweetie?” he softly asked. Weakly, you nodded, wanting him too. “Good girl,” he praised. “Just get on your back for me.” 

He then swung your legs over his broad shoulders and proceeded to slide his big, fat, hard bull cock inside of you, taking his sweet time and focusing on your body’s responses to him. “Gonna take you just like this,” he huffed as he began to thrust his hips forward, stroking your insides with his cock. “This is okay, sweetie? You still feelin’ good?” 

All you could do was moan, whimper, and sob at the pleasure, too far gone to form words. “If you ain’t gonna use that mouth to speak, you could use it for something else.” You understood immediately and weakly opened your mouth, allowing him to use it as a personal fleshlight. “Atta girl,” Kiri praised as you sucked on Katsuki’s thick cockhead. “Such a good little heifer, aren’t you?” 

You were. You were their good little heifer. You wanted to show them that more than anything, so you continued to hollow your cheeks to tighten your mouth around Katsuki’s cock and lifted your hips to meet Kiri's thrusts, brushing your clit against his pelvis. It didn't take long for your fourth (count ‘em; four) orgasm rose to the surface, threatening to spill over you.

You whined and whimpered around Katsuki’s thick cock, causing Kiri to plunge his cock inside of you a little bit faster. Katsuki leaned down, popping his cock out of your mouth. “You want Kiri to cum in you too?” he asked. “You want him to fill that tight pussy with his babies?” 

You practically sobbed as your orgasm hit you, causing you to cum all over Kiri’s cock without giving you a chance to warn him first. “Please!” you cried out. “Please, please, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Kiri continued his pace, moaning into the breeze as he chased his orgasm too. 

Katsuki hummed appreciatively for your climax, stroking your hair out of your face. “And after he's done, you’re gonna walk around with our cum deep inside you,” he murmured to you, taking you deeper into this breeding fantasy. "And then in a few months, you’ll be all nice and big with our kids.” His lips pressed to your ear, kissing you below your earlobe. “You’ll officially be ours,” he whispered. 

Kiri panted heavily from between your thighs, his cock swelling and throbbing inside of you, about to erupt. “Fuck, that’s so hot!” he groaned. “I’m gonna cum! S-so hard!”

Whines and moans left his pretty lips as his orgasm finally peaked. You almost were sure he’d cum inside of you until he quickly pulled himself out of you and pumped his nut all over your body. You weakly moaned as you felt his hot cum splash onto your stomach and titties, coating you completely in his scent. 

Your eyes fluttered closed out of exhaustion and bliss, soft pants leaving your lips. For a moment, you thought of all of that cum inside of you, both Katsuki and Kiri’s seed mingling together in your womb until you were completely full with their babies.

‘Maybe some day,’ you thought, and you believed it. It was impossible not to think you could have some sort of future together, especially when the two began to clean you up. They could only use their shirts to sob the cum off your body, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

Afterwards, they both laid down on either side of you on the grass, trapping you between their big bodies. You laid your head on Katsuki's chest while your back pressed into Kiri's front. You were spooned from both sides, totally warm and comfortable. For a while, you just laid there in silence, enjoying the afterglow and the sound of crickets in the night. “That was amazing,” you finally sighed. 

Katsuki nodded, his big chest rising and falling as his breathing evened out. “Mmm, you definitely were,” he hummed. You felt his big arm cradle your neck, his hand lazily playing with your hair. “We can't wait to have you again…and again…and again.”

He leaned down to peck your lips, slightly sucking on your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Because now you’re yours, sweet pea,” he whispered in your ear. “We’re never gonna let you go now.” His words made your pussy clench excitedly around air, wanting desperately to have all of those “agains” and loving the feeling of being theirs. And them being yours. You were even happier to know that tonight wasn't a one time thing––this was a sure thing.

Kiri pressed his lips to your shoulder, using one arm to prop himself up to look down at you. “How ‘bout we all go down to the lake for a dip?” he suggested with a smile. “After a good cuddle under the stars, of course. Just look at this sky!”

He nodded up at the inky black canvas above you that was coated in twinkling stars. “Wow,” you whispered, in awe at the beauty. A happy, content feeling twirled in your gut as you laid with the bull duo, arms and legs entangled. 

You stared at the sky for who knows how long until the sounds of the crickets and swaying trees began to get you. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt Katsuki and Kiri both press their lips to your cheeks. Kisses goodnight.

“Rest now, mate,” Kiri murmured to you, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist. “We’ve got you now.” 

You drifted off with a smile. 

THE END.