#Should i give you control but what if he sleeps in the shower?

[sbnkalny]

Let me take you through this monkey rap dk donkey kong he's the leader of the bunch, you know him Well he's finally back to kick some Tail his coconut gun can fire in SPURTS if he sleeps in the shower?

[joelscruff]

needy baby (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

series masterlist | kofi | so this is FILTH. like. please heed the warnings before reading. i would recommend reading the rest of the series in order to really understand reader's headspace here, but if not, the previous part "wait" should be enough to make it make sense, as this does tie into what happened in that part. summary: joel takes care of you in every way you need. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, age gap, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected p in v, creampies, comeplay, tummy bulge, size kink, mild free use, sub space (reader is very disconnected from reality), cockwarming, pussy eating, squirting, deepthroating, face fucking, wall sex, floor sex, AS I SAID.... FILTH word count: 4k

you practically live in joel's bed now.

it's only been three days since he picked you up at the bus stop, brought you back and took care of you the way he always has, the way he knows best. and he hasn't stopped since he finally admitted his feelings for you, face buried in your bare shoulder with his cock still deep inside of you.

he fucks you every morning. every afternoon. every night. you have absolutely no idea where he gets the stamina, how the fuck he's able to keep going and going, but you're certainly not complaining. your bodies have practically melded into one at this point, warm and sticky and safe amid groans and whimpers that match each other, heartbeats that pound at the same rhythm.

you shower - together. you take snack breaks - together. you sleep - together. and in between he fucks you in every possible position the two of you can manage, big hands roaming the softness of your body, the sheer size of him dwarfing you whenever he's on top, beneath, behind.

you find that ever since you reunited with him, you feel different. you feel sort of disconnected from reality, from the real world, everything you left behind that night. your parents don't know where you are - although you doubt they care very much. you've missed three days of classes, were supposed to turn in a paper yesterday morning. you're essentially dead to the world and you find that you like it. you like that only joel knows where you are. you like that only joel knows who you are, has always known.

you've never been so lost in this dynamic you share, never gone so long without saying his real name or simply being apart. sure, you've always let him take control in the moments you've shared, have always been the smaller, softer one in his big and capable hands, have wanted it that way - but never like this. a broad and seemingly unlimited time period spans in front of you; there's no rush, no sneaking around, no threat of being found out. you're completely at his mercy, letting him do anything he wants, enjoying him doing anything he wants.

he periodically checks to make sure that you're alright, that you still want what's happening. it's been three full of days of him practically controlling your autonomy, keeping you locked away from the rest of the world in his bedroom, and he's rightfully concerned, though not necessarily complaining.

"i want this," you reassure him softly for what feels like the tenth time, cupping the greying scruff on his cheek as you lie together on his bed after he fucked you deep into the mattress til you saw stars, "just wanna be yours for a while, daddy," you lean forward to brush your nose against his, eyelashes fluttering tiredly against your cheeks.

"you tell me the second anything changes, okay?" he whispers. his legs are tangled with yours beneath the sheets, soft hair tickling your bare ankles, "if it gets to be too much, we stop."

"i will," you whisper, then lean in to kiss him softly, "i promise."

--

"daddy, i'm gonna come again," you whine, legs close to giving out as he presses you up against the wall opposite his bed, his large body pinning you against the cool surface. he's so fucking deep, has made a home within the innermost parts of your body, so far inside you can feel the tip of his cock poking through the pouch at the bottom of your tummy.

"i know, baby, i know," he pants in your ear, thrusting harder and faster and deeper, your bodies pounding into the solid expanse of the wall, "come on that cock, sweet girl. make her sing, come on darlin'," his hands are gripping your hips so tightly, his lips sucking a mark into your shoulder alongside the dozens of others he's left there over the past few days.

you shake in his arms, eyes rolling back as desperate sounds tear from your throat, rip through the room like animalistic snarls. you go practically limp and he has to hold you up, doesn't stop moving, just keeps fucking and taking and using.

he finishes only a moment later, pulsing deep inside as he bites into the tender skin of your shoulder and gives all of it to you. you're still full of him from this morning, thighs sticky with everything that's dripped out over the course of the past few hours.

"so much, daddy," you whimper, feeling his grip on your hips lessen slightly, hearing him groan as his cock continues to twitch and pump you full of his release, "so much, can feel all of it."

"i know, babygirl," he whispers, voice positively wrecked, "gotta keep you so full, gotta make you remember who owns this little pussy, right?"

"right," you agree softly, forehead leaning wetly against the wall.

"and who owns it, baby?"

"you do, daddy," you whisper back.

"good girl," he nuzzles his face into your neck; you can feel the sweat dripping down his jaw, hear him trying desperately to catch his breath as he moans against your skin, "such a good fuckin' girl for your daddy. just made to take this fuckin' cock."

you're both only able to lean against the wall for another moment before you're completely exhausted. he's still so deep, cock softening but not moving, staying pressed firmly within your walls. his hand comes up to rest on your tummy, pressing kisses all over your shoulder.

"feelin' full, baby?" he murmurs, "feelin' good?"

"so good," you sigh, eyes closing and tears stinging behind your lids - good tears, happy tears, fucking joyous tears - "want you to fuck me again, daddy. do it again."

he makes a strangled noise into your skin and then starts walking backwards with you, arms wrapping around your middle and tugging you toward the bed. you both fall down onto it in a heap, still gasping for air but not wanting to part from each other unless absolutely necessary.

"how many times is that now?" he mumbles, chest heaving against your back.

"i don't know," you admit honestly. your head leans back to rest against his sticky shoulder, tangled hair dripping onto his chest. his hands come up to squeeze your breasts, pull you harder against him like he never wants to let go. and you know he doesn't.

"just wanna fuck you over and over again," he whispers, breath hot against your neck, "take care of you. wanna show you who you belong to."

"i belong to you," you breathe, opening your legs and peering down at where you're still connected.

"good girl," he groans, and his hips jerk as his cock twitches inside you, "good fuckin' girl."

you both lay there catching your breaths for about five more minutes before joel slowly pulls out of you, the wet squelch borderline pornographic in the silence of his bedroom. you both listen as your pussy releases some of his come, eyes trailing down to watch the warm white liquid dribble down onto the sheets.

"fuckin' full of me," he murmurs, reaching a hand down to thumb some of it back inside, cupping your pussy with the palm of his hand. you whimper, bucking into it and biting down hard on your lip.

you've never felt so desired in your life, so wanted and taken care of. you could fall asleep right now and know that you're safe, know that joel will make sure all your needs are met before he gives it to you all over again. this is all you've needed this whole time, from the moment you stepped through your ex boyfriend's door and came face to face with the man whose arms were so warm around you in that first hug, the same arms you nestle comfortably in now.

"i love you, daddy," you mumble softly, eyelashes fluttering as your exhaustion takes over, "love you so much."

"i love you too, babygirl," he breathes, pulling his hand up and hugging you from behind again, "rest now for a little while."

--

he runs you a bath and wakes you when it's full, carries you to the bathroom and places you inside the tub. you drift off again as he washes you, wipes you clean of all the sweat and tears and come, stays with you until he has to wake you up again to dry you off. you're nothing more than a doll in his arms, pliant and loose, allowing him to touch you everywhere he needs to before carrying you back to bed where he's already replaced the sheets.

he makes you a snack - popcorn, your favorite. feeds it to you with a knowing look that makes you squirm under his gaze. as he pops a kernel into your mouth you find yourself wrapping your lips around his finger and thumb, tongue slowly licking off the butter and salt. you push the popcorn to the back of your cheek and instead focus entirely on sucking joel's fingers, wet and tight.

"oh babygirl," he breathes, voice soft, "need daddy's cock again, huh? need to suck on it, don't you?"

you nod, already desperate, eyes big and round as he pushes his fingers further into your mouth, presses down on the back of your tongue. you swallow around him lewdly, eyes watering.

"open," he whispers, and you obey, only for him to slowly pull his fingers out - along with the popcorn in your cheek - and then stand up by the edge of the bed, reaching for his zipper, "nice and wide, baby."

a moment later you're choking on the thick length of his cock, the tip prodding the back of your throat while he tangles his fingers in your hair and peers down at you calmly, eyes dark, hips slowly thrusting.

"thaaat's it," he whispers, helping you move your head back and forth as he fucks your face, "there you go, sweet girl. that's what you needed, huh?"

your head is swimming, eyes full of tears, heart full of love and devotion as you lock your gaze with his and moan around his cock. his brow furrows as he looks at you, nods in your direction with eyes that soothe and relax you.

"daddy's good little girl," he murmurs, and pride swells in your chest.

--

he goes down on you a lot. especially in the morning, when you're just slowly waking up and don't have the energy to get on all fours or climb on top of him to ride. he crawls down beneath the sheets and noses your puffy pussy lips, presses kisses all over the parts that feel raw and tender. he laps at your folds, eyes hooded and hazy like he's enjoying a delicacy he's never experienced before, every single time.

"poor baby," he murmurs, pulling back to pull apart your lips and peer down at your fucked-out hole, "so used, honey," he licks a stripe up your pussy and you writhe in the sheets, "daddy used her all up, huh?"

you look down at him with a pout, eyes large and innocent, "she likes getting used, daddy," you whisper.

"i know she does," he agrees quietly, then slowly prods his tongue inside, licking at your pulsing walls and sucking on all your favorite spots, leaving you a whimpering and whining mess above him.

he makes you squirt, something you only discovered you could do yesterday, something he's now made you do at least six times since that first time. your wetness coats his lips, his chin, drips down his jaw all over the sheets as he leans back in and laps up every drop he can manage. your eyes roll back, hoarse cries croaking past your lips as another steady stream of your release practically pistons into his mouth. he groans as he swallows, low and deep.

--

it's dirty. it's intense. it's real.

you find yourselves splayed together on the floor of his bedroom on the third day, nothing but a throw blanket between your bodies and the hardwood. your head rests against the soft expanse of his tummy, the hair above his belly button tickling your ear as he breathes in and out.

he just fucked you so good. practically bent you in half against the floor with your ankles dangling by your ears. he was so deep; so fucking deep that he had you screaming for him, screaming so high and loud and wild that he'd had to cover your mouth before the neighbors called the cops. he'd let out a multitude of his own loud noises when he'd come inside you, holding you still while he filled you to the brim and then released his hand from your mouth so you could let out one last pathetic whine.

now he cards his fingers through your hair, hums something soft and angelic somewhere above you while you drift in and out of consciousness. you've never felt so close to another person in your life.

"so sleepy, babygirl," he whispers in between his humming, scratches a pleasant spot behind your ear, "all tuckered out, huh?"

you make a quiet noise of agreement, nestling your cheek further into the squishy warmth of his belly. his cock rests low and flaccid only a few inches away, a sight that makes your mouth water all over again. you're starting to wonder if you'll ever be sated. you don't ever want to leave this room.

"daddy's gonna run another bath for you," he murmurs, "that sound nice?"

you nod, still unable to really say anything. your body aches, your jaw is sore, your skin is covered in love bites and small bruises. a bath sounds very nice right about now.

"you doin' okay, baby?" he adds softly, still running his fingers through your hair, "you with me?"

you're not really sure how to answer that. you still don't really feel like yourself. he knows that too, but just wants to check and make sure you're still in this headspace. he's probably wondering when you're ever going to come out of it. if you're ever going to come out of it.

"i'm with you, daddy," you mumble, pressing a featherlight kiss to his tummy, "i'm here."

--

you can miss class, but joel can't miss work, at least not for long. he's eased himself of a few of his duties, handed some stuff over to his employees via email, but there are certain things he can't avoid for very long. luckily though, he can work from home.

early on the fourth day - after eating your pussy for about twenty minutes and making you come three times - he leans against the headboard with his laptop placed precariously on his belly and answers some emails, does his best to do some of the work he's behind on. you sleep for most of it, but wake up when you hear him chatting to someone on the phone beside you.

"gonna have to change that," he's saying quietly, cell pressed up against his ear, "the crew's not gonna be happy."

you peer up at him with a sleepy expression, blinking a few times. he only notices you've woken up when you stretch your arms above your head, breasts peeking out from under the sheets - you see his gaze drop to them immediately.

he points to the cell and makes a face, mouthing sorry and rolling his eyes, making you giggle. he wastes no time in reaching over and squeezing one of your breasts in his palm, then starting to toy with your hardening nipple as he continues the conversation.

"no, that won't work either," he says, pinching it between his thumb and finger and making you jolt a bit, "last thing we need is another person quittin' on us for shit we coulda prevented."

you look up at him, dazed and already wet underneath the sheets as he rolls your nipple between his fingers over and over, the corner of his mouth twitching up when you inch a bit closer to him, pushing your chest out for easier access.

"how about we just do what was already suggested?" joel continues, and you watch his eyes grow dark when you pull the sheet down and expose your naked body to him in its entirety, opening your legs and showing him your already glistening pussy, still wet and juicy from his saliva and your arousal, "yeah," he says, voice hitching a bit, "yeah, that's good."

he closes his laptop and places it on the nightstand, then turns back to you and carefully pulls down his own side of the sheet with one hand, showing you his equally naked body - and hardening cock.

"that should work," he says quietly, then points to his length, tilting his head slightly as he peers into your eyes, "yeah, that's what we need."

you climb into his lap, wasting no time in taking hold of his cock and positioning it at your entrance. you sink down onto it with hooded eyes, mouth popping open as he fills you with a calm expression, still talking on the phone.

"good," he says, "that sounds good. that's what we'll do."

you're still tired and achy, not really able to hold yourself up properly from everything your body has been through over the past three days. riding him was so much easier on that first day when your thighs didn't feel so sore. as if he can read your mind he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you in so you're chest to chest, allows you to place your chin on his shoulder as you bottom out on his length and sigh delicately in his ear. he trails his fingers up and down your back, noses your ear gently.

"so, what about the transportation issue?" he asks into the phone, tightening his arm around you and holding you still on his cock, like he just wants you to sit there until he's done the conversation - something you have absolutely no issue doing. "uh huh, yeah, that'll need to be in writing."

you stay connected like that for the next half an hour, pussy throbbing continuously around his length and getting wetter and wetter the longer he drones on and on with whoever it is from his company that's got a matter so pressing it couldn't be done through an email. hearing the faint sound of another person talking sends a sort of recognition into your brain you hadn't been expecting - a reminder that other people actually exist outside of this bedroom, that life is continuing to go on.

you can feel the spell starting to be broken and you're not sure how it makes you feel.

by the time he finally hangs up the phone you find that you've started to come back to some semblance of reality, whatever your reality is at this point. you remember that you have a phone somewhere, in your bag - wherever that's ended up in the clutter of joel's room - and that you might have unread messages, missed calls. you remember the fact that you had a paper to turn in and it sends a wave of anxiety to the pit of your stomach. you remember why you're here in the first place, how awful the other night had been until joel picked you up.

joel hangs up the phone and tosses it to the side, then wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, buries his nose in your neck and breathes in.

"you're such a good girl, baby," he murmurs, big hands traveling skillfully up and down your spine, "so patient on daddy's cock."

you don't say anything, brow furrowed and expression completely out of his view as you hitch your chin on his shoulder and dig your fingers into his back.

"need to be fucked, baby? or do you just wanna sit on it for a little while longer?" he still hasn't sensed a change, still waiting to make the decisions, half expecting you to mumble something incoherent.

"um, actually," you say softly, voice gravely and dry, "i think... i think i need some air."

he pulls back immediately to peer at your face, eyebrows going up in surprise when he sees you. you're not sure how you've appeared to him over the past few days, probably had a permanent look of ecstasy on your face, innocent and naïve, oblivious to everything. he must see something different now; recognition, realization, something that shows you're coming out of it.

"of course," he breathes, hands going down to carefully pull you up from his cock. you wince at the strain of your muscles as you lift yourself from his lap and settle on the bed again, making a face. you feel his finger on your chin as he tilts your head up to look at him, expression one of pure concern and love.

"are you back, babygirl?" he asks softly, eyes soft, "feelin' like yourself again?"

you swallow around the lump in your throat, nodding slowly as tears blur your vision, "i think so," you hiccup, "and i don't like it."

--

he sits with you on his back patio, lets you lean against the solidness of him on the wooden steps as you stare out at the trees and grass, the blue expanse of sky and singing birds.

you cry for a long time. you don't really know why.

--

he makes you pasta for dinner, puts on cheesy 80s music and dances dorkily around the kitchen as it boils in the pot. you sit on a stool by the island and just shake your head at him with a genuine smile and tired eyes, hair wet from your first shower without him in days. you're wearing your own clothes again, freshly washed. you feel a bit more yourself now.

things are starting to make a bit more sense as time passes. you figure it all caught up to you that night, much more than you'd realized. you'd thought it would all be okay once you were back in joel's embrace, but you'd still been running from things you couldn't face. the things you'd been through, the things you'd done.

"you just needed to... not think for a while," joel tells you softly as his fingers card through your hair later that night. you both lie together in the dewy grass of his backyard, staring up at the stars, breathing in the cool air. "that's the only way i can think to explain it."

you nod slowly, biting your lip, "i was so annoying," you say with a grimace, "like i literally demanded every second of your attention, didn't i? i'm so sorry."

"babygirl, i am not complaining," he murmurs with a chuckle, pulling you in a bit closer, "it was nice. it was... fun."

you smile, "it was. it was fun."

you cuddle with him as the evening turns into night, quiet and safe. you never thought you'd get to this point, never thought you'd ever be able to just exist with him, just be.

"my only complaint," he suddenly says, a bit of a grumbly edge to his voice, "is that i think i destroyed my back."

you snort, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth.

"i'm serious," he groans quietly, nosing your hair, "i'm gonna have to go to a chiropractor after all that."

you can't help but laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw as you smile up at him.

"sorry, daddy."

[becomingmina]

Favourite time and place to eat you out - SKZ hyung line. 18+only mdni

um just alot of dirty talk too.

Hyung line:

Chris/Bang Chan: Studio. Very late at night.

You offer to go with him to work in his studio late at night.

"You don't have to come. I don't want you waiting for me, I'll be late. And the couch isn't comfy for you to sleep on baby," he says.

"I just want to be around you Channie, I can wait," and he gives in to you.

As he works one his tracks, you stay quiet in the corner on the sofa working away on your work project getting distracted with you phone every minute or two. He glances at you every now and then and just absolutely adores how quietly you wait around for him.

"Baby, you've been so good to me," he pushes himself in his chair towards you.

"Hmm?" you look up at him and he removes your laptop from your lap before fiddling with the hem of your sweat pants and kneeling down in front of you.

"Let me treat you. You deserve to have your pussy eaten out after patiently waiting around for me," he says before pulling down your pants along with your panties.

"You should come work with me often, I like how good you can be," he says before licking a fat stripe along your folds.

Lee Know/Lee Minho: In bed. In the morning.

Minho craves morning intimacy - he just loves how vulnerable and desperate you get. You wake up from him flipping up your night gown and sliding down your panties. As if he didn't spent all last night in you, he drove straight in sucking harshly on your clit to wake you fully up. Your hands make their way to latch onto his hair as you lift up you hips.

"Min, please," you whine trying to grind on his face for some relief as he starts to slow down his pace. His hands keeps you spread out and flat on the bed as he smirks.

"I love it when you get so desperate kitten, let me just make love to your pussy," he chuckles as he continues to slowly make out with your cunt.

"She's still so swollen from last night, don't you know she needs it a bit slow today?

"Min please I'm awake let me cum," you try to close your legs around him but Minho is always in control.

"Don't be greedy baby, you came so much last night. Let me have some fun," he continues to tease you.

Seo Changbin: In the shower. Winding down before bed.

"Over my shoulder, darling please," Bin says as he kneels down hoisting one of your leg on his shoulder.

"Your pussy looked so pretty in your tight gym leggings today, I couldn't wait to get home" he has his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as his other hand grips your cheeks.

"Had to get you sweaty so you can hop in the shower.. So I can make you even more dirty.." Bin's fingers spread your folds as his tongue enters your hole trying his best to go as deep as possible. He is a sucker for pleasuring you in the shower. He wants to get dirty. He loves to make your cum and squirt for him. He finds it extremely hot the way your juices spray his face and drip down the shower screen.

Hwang Hyunjin: In the bedroom on lazy afternoons.

Hyunjin is so romantic when it comes to pleasuring you. You both are tangled together on the bed on a lazy Saturday afternoon. No work no practice. It starts off so gentle, with soft kisses that then lead to him hovering over you in a slow make out session. It's when he tugs on your lower lip biting down with more force that you know what he is indicating. Hyunjin gets shy about it so he doesn't say anything - he just waits around until you shuffle on the bed so he can slot himself between your legs. Kisses then make their way down your body until he reaches that part he desires. He presses one kiss your clothed cunt before he stares up at you - his eyes so big, filled with desire and lust but he is still so shy.

"Go ahead baby, take it off and make me feel great," you reassure him. Hyunjin peels off your short you lifting your hips to help him. With your hand in his hair guiding him, he starts to mirror the kisses he gave your lips - gently making out with your glistening cunt.

Maknae line here.

[concreteparasite]

⋆Happy Birthday Ray!!!⋆

It's Ray's birthday today (04/30)

I am not able to do much this year b/c I'm pretty busy, but I wanted to take some time to do a little something. So I did a quick painting and a story blurb :3 hope everyone enjoys!

04/29 11:57 pm

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

The blonde man gives me a questioning look. I look at the tired hero leaning on the kitchen counter. I caught him after he got back from work, fresh out of the shower, towel around his waist, exhaustion written all over his face. He forces it back to give me a small smile.

"Are you having trouble sleeping Star?"

Ray looks around the kitchen, then back at me.

"You seemed to be hard at work in here today."

My eyebrows knit "What? But I thought I cleaned everything up?"

Ray chuckles lightly. "You did, I just have an eye for detail."

11:58 pm

A smirk moves across my face. "Oh do you?"

"Well, yes I do. For one, What are you holding behind your back?"

"It looks to me that you are up to no good."

"Well your eyes must be going bad old man."

Ray's eye gives a little twitch of annoyance.

"'Old man'? You know, if anyone else called me that even accidentally they would apologize to me profusely..."

Ray leans over me studying me with his eyes, smirk across his face.

Ray's voice lowers.

"So what makes you so special huh?"

I lean into Ray.

"I think I can list a few things."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'll take a demonstration then. I'm a visual learner you know."

11:59 pm

I break into a smile.

"How about later?"

Ray gives an amused look, leaning back into his original position.

"What? your schedule isn't open on a Monday at midnight?"

I glance at the clock. It was almost time.

"Well it's not just any Monday is it?"

Ray seems confused.

"Wh-?"

12:00 am

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAY!!!"

I nearly shout bringing forward the box behind my back.

Before Ray can even respond I bound forward planting a kiss on his cheek. He wraps his arms lightly around me on instinct, looking down at me his face utterly shocked.

I bring the box forward.

"You can probably already guess what this, 'eye for detail' and all~"

Ray's arms fall from my side as he takes the box in his hands.

He opens it to reveal a small cake, with admittedly less than beautiful craftsmanship.

"I thought, since cooking is your hobby, maybe you would like it if I made you a cake..."

"It kind of fell apart though... and didn't really turn out the way I wanted..." Ray looks back up at me, his eyebrows are knit as a sea of emotion runs behind his eyes.

"Maybe I should have just bought-"

Before I can finish the statement Ray places down the cake, taking my face into both of his hands and kissing me deeply.

His thanks and feelings that he was unable to vocalize he instead pushed through his lips into my own. His hands trembled just a bit against my skin.

Ray eventually pulls back and he looks into my face, giving a lovely bright smile, free from any of the exhaustions from earlier in the night. He whispers to me as he plants small kisses everywhere along my face.

"I can't believe you forgot your own-"

"Have I told you that I love you?"

"Yes, many times."

"I love you."

"Yes, I know."

"I don't think there is anything in this universe that can truly convey how much you mean to me."

I smile "I know Ray. You don't have to say it."

"I just don't know what to do to express it."

"You don't have to do anything Ray."

"But that doesn't feel like enough, nothing will ever feel like enough."

"I love you so much."

Ray nuzzles his face into the crevasse of my neck.

"Ugh, I'm going crazy... You're making me go crazy. This is all your fault." I laugh at Ray's out of character antics.

"Well wait to say all that until after you try the cake."

Ray chuckles against my neck giving it a short kiss before pulling away from me.

Ray grabs two forks.

"So... should I put poison control on speed dial first?"

I lightly hit Ray on the arm.

"I hope it takes you out."

"Oh no Star, don't say that, you aren't cut out for a life of villainy."

Ray winks at me.

He leans forward and down closer to my eye level, staring at me.

"What?"

"So are you going to hand feed me?"

"Okay."

Ray looks a little shocked.

"You didn't think I was going to say yes did you?"

"You just wanted to tease me didn't you."

"You evil old man."

Ray smirks, leaning down and closer. He opens his mouth.

I grab a piece of the cake, bringing it slowly to his mouth. Ray's finger's entwine my wrist, steading it as he leads the bite into his mouth. Frosting smears his lower lip as his lips enclose the fork and it pulls out.

Ray chews and swallows the cake. By the time I realize my wrist is still in his hand, he already has me pinned between the counter and his body. He kisses me deeply, licking the frosting off of my lip.

"You make a better cake than you think star."

"And it tastes even better on you."

His eyes darken.

"Now how about that demonstration?~"

[xblackkurox]

The Neighborhood

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, sub!reader x Dom!Toji, dirty talk, p in v, degradation, penetration, fingering, a bit of oral if you squint, slut shaming, big dick toji, you are doing it while Megumi sleeps, Toji is rough, spitting, unprotected sex (use it!), belly bulge, dacryphilia, cum eating, orgasm denial, Toji is a little mean, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed something!! And OFC: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!! This might be full of grammar mistakes since eng is not my first language, sowy :).

ENJOY BABES <3

In which you arrive to a new building to start a new life. Little do you know what type of neighbors await you.

First off, the older and tired single dad Toji, whom you help out with taking care of his kid a couple of times.

You looked around, hands in your hips. Finally, you say to yourself. It’s been a whole afternoon of unpacking and decorating, but your new apartment is officially done. You just arrived to this new building yesterday, first time living alone, actually first time moving out of your parent’s house. 

The apartment was small, you didn’t really care and even if you did, that’s all you could afford at the moment. Looking at the bright side of it, it was quick to decor.

You wiped away a drop of sweat in your forehead, time for a shower. 

Trail of your clothes to the bathroom, you turned on the shower and choose the artist for today. Arctic Monkeys it is. You enter the shower as the music starts blasting. The fresh water cleaning and relaxing you. The feeling is amazing, this is what freedom tastes like?

You are so immersed in yourself, vibing to the music and enjoying the water running down your body, you don’t even realize there is someone knocking at your door until the slams get hard enough.

Fuck, you swear to yourself. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and wrap it down your body. The knocking getting more and more insistent. You stop the song now playing and hurry to the door, still soaking. 

“Going! Damn…” And you open the door. 

Oh…

Tall, black haired, a scar on the corner of his lip. The too small for him shirt wraps his toned arms and chest, God you can even see his abs through it. His gray eyes looking at you, he’s obviously angry, but he still scans your barely covered body up and down. 

“Turn the damn music down.” His deep voice commands. 

“Why should I?” You raise a brow at him, annoyed that he is rudely scolding you for 10 minutes of some music. He ruined your well deserved relaxing shower. 

He clicks his tongue before talking again, he looks like he’s having a hard time trying to control his tone while speaking. It’s actually pretty intimidating, specially because he is built like a wardrobe. 

“Do you even know what time is it?” Before you answer back, he rises his hand slightly and stops you. “Late.” He states. 

His fingers comb his dark hair back, he looks tired. 

“Look, I live next door, I have a kid, and I’m trying to put him to sleep… So just stop being a brat and tone it down, alright?”

He almost sounds desperate. Your lips press together in an empathic and apologetic expression. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t know. It was just for my shower, so anyw…”

“Nice.” And he left to his still open door. Asshole, I should blast my music even louder now, you think to yourself.

You watch him walk and right before he closes the door to his apartment you see a little black haired kid rubbing his eyes. Well, maybe you behave for the little kid. 

A couple of days later, you are eating some Chinese food in your couch when you hear a knock on the door. You stop scrolling down on your Instagram, put the food down on the table and head to the door. 

When you open it, there’s no one… Until you look down. The little’s kid eyes wandering on the floor, you can see a slight blush on his cheeks. Squatting down to match his height, you tilt your head and give him a soft smile. 

“Hello there… Is something wrong?” He seems a little cautious when talking to you. 

“I can’t get inside the house… Dad is not here.”

“Well, do you know your dad’s number? I can call him.” The kid says no with his head. 

“Ummmm… Alright, you can wait with me until he arrives, I’ll leave him a note on the door. Is that okay?” He nods, he hasn’t looked you once in the eyes yet. 

He follows you into the apartment, you grab a post-it a quickly write there: “Your kid locked himself out of the house, he is with me. Atte: Your brat neighbor next door.” 

Once it’s hooked to their door, you come back to your own house. The black haired child is standing awkwardly in your living room. 

You sit in the couch and tap the place by your side. 

“Sit here, we can watch TV.” He climbs beside you. “So, what’s your name?”

“Megumi…” 

He’s so shy. 

“And where’s dad?” Megumi looks directly at you for the first time. 

“Working.”

“And you are alone?” A nod in response. “ Why were you out of the house?”

His cheeks blushing harshly, he looks away once again. He confesses anyway.

“There was a spider, the door closed.” 

You hold in a laugh. “It’s okay, I am scared of spiders too. Now, are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” He declines politely. He is way more of a gentleman than his dad.

“You sure? I can order some pizza.” His eyes light up as he looks at you. “Pizza it is, then.”

Little by little, Megumi is loosening up a bit. He becomes more chatty while you eat pizza, he evens smile from time to time. You are getting done with dinner when knocks on the door interrupt you. Must be him.

You stand from the floor where you were with Megumi and walk to the door. The handsome man has the post-it in hand, his head peeks inside to check on the kid. 

“He’s safe and sound, don’t worry.” His eyes lock with yours. 

“Thank you…” He seems sincere.

“Wanna come in? He’s just finishing dinner.” His eyes widen while entering the apartment. 

“Dinner? You didn’t have to…”

“I ordered pizza for me and shared, no big deal” You lie. He side eyes you, probably suspecting that’s not true. 

He squats in front of Megumi. “How you doing kid? You’ve been good to the young lady, I suppose?”

Megumi nods, and shakes off the hand his dad places on his little head. Too focused on the TV. I laugh while sitting on the couch. 

“Have a seat, don’t need to rush him.”

He sits beside you, his legs spread and his elbows on each knee. Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment, in this distance you can smell his manly scent. His eyes gaze at you. 

“So, what’s your name, doll?” You answer. “Right, thank you again, y/n.”

You can tell by his deep voice how exhausted he is, so the next sentence you pronounce it carefully. 

“Does Megumi stay alone at home often?” He remains silent for a moment, looking at you. Seemed like he was trying to figure out whether you were judging his parenting or not. Finally, he sighed and brushed back his hair. 

“Nah, only when I work in the afternoons, not happens much… I usually work in the mornings and Megumi is at school.” His eyes looking down at his son, he’s finished with the pizza, but he is still enchanted with the movie on the TV.

You're playing with your own fingers in your lap, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“I could take care of him when that happens, I also work in the mornings.”

“Can’t pay for a babysitter.” He cuts you quickly.

“Wasn’t expecting to get paid. Megumi is a sweet kid, I wouldn’t mind taking care of him.”

The kid is sweet, but the dad is hot as hell.

His gray eyes light up slightly, he is looking so deep into you, you fear he could read your thoughts. He then looks at his son again.

“Hey Megu.” The kid turns his head to his dad with an annoyed grin. “Would you like to spend time here when dad’s not home?”

Megumi’s eyes look at you shortly. “Cool.” He simply answers, thumb up. 

You laugh, a bit flattered with the kid’s approval. Toji sighs and gets up from the couch. 

“Thank you doll. I’ll let you know beforehand each time.” The nickname giving you butterflies in your tummy. 

“Sure.”

Toji grabs Megumi and puts him over his shoulder, walking to the door. The kid whines and demands to keep watching TV.

“Megumi be polite with the pretty girl and thank her.” Megumi obeys his father and mumbles a little “thanks” to you with embarrassment. 

And like that, you became Megumi’s occasional babysitter. 

……

You were laying in Toji’s couch, scrolling through your socials waiting for the man to get home. You putted Megumi to bed a while ago now, since it was already late at night. 

You heard the keys on the lock and then the door opening. Toji’s lazy steps took a while to get into the living room. His eyes gazed at you as he took off his jacket. 

“Comfortable there doll?” Were his first words as his gaze scanned your laying body.

“Megumi is in bed already.” You reply, putting away your phone and looking at him. His black bangs falling on his forehead, gray tired eyes.

“I figured.” He sits on the couch beside your feet. 

“How’s work” You sit up on the couch. 

“Good, actually got some news for you. I’ve been promoted at work, so from now on, ill be able to pay for an actual babysitter. You don’t need to do this no more.” 

You clear your throat slightly before talking, don’t want him to notice the disappointment in your voice. 

“Aw, so this is my last time baby sitting Megu?” He nods. “Hope I can still come around to hang out with him sometime.”

“I’m sure he would love that.” Would you? The question gets stuck in your chest. 

“Well…” You say while getting up. “It’s been a pleasure-”

“Come sit on my lap.” He pats his thighs with his big hand. 

“Wait… What?” You’re actually not sure if he said those words or your brain is playing a trick on you. Either way, you go red in your cheeks.

“You’ve heard me, sit on my lap.” Alright, he said that. You stay still. “Know you want it, so don’t make me repeat myself again.” 

His voice sounds demanding and slightly annoyed. Even if you didn't want to, it would be hard to disobey him. Good for you that you wanted. 

With shaky legs, you sit astride on his lap, your hands finding his hard chest for balance. 

Now that you’ve obeyed him, his expression softens considerably. The scar on the corner of his mouth deforming into a mischievous smirk.

“There you go. Now don’t be so shy, I’ve seen how you look at me.” His big hand cups your face, his thumb gently rubbing your hot cheek. “Huh? Where did all your confidence go all of a sudden? Just wanna pay you back for taking care of my kiddo.”

The rough palm of his free hand teasing from your knee up your thigh, finding its way under your sporty shorts. Grabbing your ass cheek with no shame. Your legs tremble on top of him, your lips part as if to moan. 

Toji lets out a mean chuckle before lifting you from your lap and throwing you back on the couch, you gasp as your back touches de cushions. The man wastes no time as he towers you and slides both your shorts and panties off your legs in a smooth motion. 

“Oh? Toji!” Your voice coming out high-pitched. 

“You better keep it quiet, doll face.” He spreads wide open your shaky legs. “Don’t wanna wake up Megumi now, don’t ya?”

Next thing you feel is two of his thick long fingers forcing its way inside of you, stretching you open. “W-wait.” You plead, trying to keep your voice lower this time. 

“For what? You're already soaking wet, darling.” His palm smacks against your clit with each thrust, splashing your juices all over your belly and thighs. 

“Fuuuuck-” A whine leaving your lips as he slides in another finger. 

“Stop complaining, doin this for your own good.” He scissors and stretches you open, his thumb playing and rubbing in circular movements on your swollen button. With his other hand, he pulls your shirt over your bare breasts.

“Of course, not wearing bra, like the little whore you are.” He takes your nipple between his thumb and his index, pinching and pulling from it. You hiss, he’s too harsh. “You thought I was not gonna catch how your nipples always peek through your slutty clothes? Or maybe that’s exactly what ya wanted…” 

He spits in your unattended breast right before spreading his saliva around your boob with his tongue. Your back arches when he teases with his teeth. Your hand covering your mouth, muffling soft moans. 

Your hips start to roll back against his hand, a familiar tension building up in your stomach. By now, you already need to be biting on your fingers, so your pornographic sounds don’t get too loud. That’s when he pulls his thick, calloused fingers out from your pussy. 

“You’re only cumming on my dick.” He sentences. “Now take off that shirt, don’t want it covering your pretty tits.”

As you do so, he also takes off his shirt. Exposing his very much toned torso, tell me about pretty tits. His gaze checking out your naked and spread body as he pulls down his trousers and boxers to his knees. 

“Wait.” Your eyes widen.

You are no scared virgin, but you can’t deny the little sense of anxiety that settles in your chest when you see his size. Now you understand what he meant by that doing this for your own good comment.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit in.” Your voice coming out tremulous. His face turning into an almost cynical expression. 

“Bet it does.” Your legs spread wider by his hands. By this point, it’s not even necessary, he just wants to see your soaking cunt on display for him. “And you're gonna take it with no nagging, got it?”

He doesn't even wait for an answer, a nod, some sort of approval. No, he is already pushing his thick and long cock pass your folds. 

The sting of pain is immediate, making you shed some tears. 

“Fuck Toji! It hurts!” His hand going to your mouth like a slap, except he keeps it there. Covering right under your nose, muffling any sound and pinning your head to the couch. You can taste yourself in the skin of his palm.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Threatening and deep voice, it shouldn’t turn you on so much. 

Your eyes shut as he stretches you open and fills you up like you’ve never been before. He is looking down, watching how stuffed you are with his dick, a little bulge poking in your belly. 

He moves, sliding himself out until just his fat tip is in, only to thrust all of him back in. Over and over again. The hand on your mouth, already wet with your tears and drool. 

His jaw is clenched, growling in a predatory way. 

“Don’t be so dramatic doll, from the way your sensitive cunt is throbbing and sucking me in I can tell you like it.”

He sets a fast pace, and finally he stops muzzling you. He chuckles when he sees your expression, watching how he already turned you into a whimpering mess. 

Both his hands going to grip your waist, pushing your body down to meet his brutal ramming. He is gonna leave bruises there. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

“Nnnnnngh- so full-”  Your fingers are grabbing the cushions, holding in for dear life. 

“Fuck- I didn't think you were going to be so tight… Based on how slutty you look.” 

Drops of sweat running down his pectorals to his abs, his skin shiny, just like yours must look too. Your breasts bouncing up and down with the back and forth of his hips. 

Each time, being harder to swallow your own moans, as the pain fades away and the intense pleasure of being full replaces it. 

Toji is fucking you out of your senses, losing consciousness of where you are and, of course, of how loud you are being. 

He pulls out for a second, flipping you on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up, making your knees bend. Ass up for him. “Bite the damn cushion, since you can’t be fucking quiet.”

At first, you don’t do it, but when he thrusts back in, his pelvis smacking your booty cheeks, you hurry to grab a cushion and stuff your mouth with it. 

You can hear him chuckle meanly behind you, hands massaging and spreading your ass as he keeps charging against you.

The plushie muffling your struggled cries. 

“That’s it… next time we fuckin at your place, gonna make you bounce on my dick and be as loud as you want, alright doll face? Wanna hear those sweet whimpers of yours.” You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, nodding. You look so fucked up, a stray tear rolling down your blushed cheek. That view only fuels Toji’s lust, he goes harder and reaches deeper. 

One of his hands wrap around your hair and yanks you up, your back pressed against his board chest. His other hand goes to your neck, choking you slightly. Not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to keep your sounds at bay. 

Like this, he reaches too deep, hitting your cervix over and over again. You are getting closer, dangerously quickly. Your eyes roll back, and your hands search something to grip desperately, finding his forearms to dig your nails on. 

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long.” You weren’t even doing that on purpose, you weren’t doing anything voluntary right now. Your mind too far gone to have any type of control over your body. 

“Gonna cum inside, you are so sweet to my kid bet you would be a good mama huh? Want me to put a baby in you?” 

You definitely not wanted to be a mother right now, but those words hit something primal within you. You nodded, head falling back in his shoulder. 

“Yeah! Fill me up!” His grip in your throat and waist tighten after your words, the ramming so animalistic pushing you over the edge. 

Your eyes rolling back, toes curling, whole body spasming, mouth wide open letting go hoarse and struggled babbling. 

Toji cums right after, with some final sloppy thrusts. Filling your insides with his seed. 

“Fuck- taking me so good-”

He lets go of you after a moment, causing you to fall to your previous position, back arched and ass lifted, eyes shut while you pant. Toji watches in delight how the mix of his cum and your juices drool out of you. The view enough to make him hard again. 

“You alright there doll face?” His voice was hoarse and sounded out of breath. His hands wrapped around your waist to flip you around. He chuckled at your fucked out expression. 

You bat your wet eyelashes at him, finally coming back to reality, a little nod to his question. 

“Good. Now, how many times you’ve taken care of Megumi?”

You tilt your head, confused by the sudden question and still gasping for air. 

“Like five?” 

With a nod, he crawled back in the couch, lowering in between your thighs. His tongue sticking out and lapping at your sensitive cunt. Recollecting the mix of both your cums. You squirm and hiss, overstimulated.

“Four more and we’ll be even.”

[candy69gurl]

POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 2

Warnings- private touching

wc- 1.2k

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You sink onto your bed, your mind racing with thoughts of the future. With Sukuna inside you, you can't help but wonder what will happen next.

"If they find out the truth, they'll never look at me the same way," you think, your heart aching at the thought of losing your friends.

"Maybe I should tell them the truth," you consider, but the idea is quickly shot down.

"No, they'll think I'm crazy or worse, they'll try to exorcise me," you decide, your heart sinking into your stomach.

"I need to figure this out myself," you murmur, your fingers gripping the sheets, trying to come up with a plan.

But as always, Sukuna has something to say on the matter, "Don't bother, little brat. No one can save you from me," he hisses, his voice like poison in your mind.

"Why are you like this?" you question, your voice shaking with anger and fear

"It is what it is," Sukuna answers simply, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"You're a monster," you accuse, your heart pounding in your chest

Sukuna just laughs, a sound that sends a pain through your mind.

With a deep breath, you get up from the bed, your mind still spinning from your encounter with Sukuna.

You walk to the bathroom, feeling a bit of relief as you undress, shedding your clothes and stepping into the shower. The warm water cascades over your body, washing away the tension you've been holding.

"Ah, this feels good," you say, closing your eyes and leaning against the tiled wall.

"Mhm..", a deep voice echoes in your mind, "What a nice body you have."

Your eyes snap open, a gasp escaping your lips as you realize your mistake. Your naked body is now exposed to Sukuna, the realization making your skin crawl.

"Damn it," you curse, your hands hastily covering your most private areas, feeling heat rise to your cheeks

"So innocent," Sukuna snickers, his voice sending shivers down your spine

"Stop it," you demand, your voice trembling with embarrassment and anger.

"You can't make me uncomfortable like this," you continue, trying to assert your control over the situation.

"Oh, I think I can," Sukuna counters, his voice low and taunting.

"I want you out of my head," you hiss, your fists clenching tight with the effort to keep him at bay. "How am I gonna live like this?" you whisper, your voice breaking

"Go ahead, show let me see more of your body", Sukuna taunts,

Your heart races, your breathing growing faster as Sukuna's voice continues to torment you.

"No," you insist, your voice shaking with determination. You refuse to give in to his twisted games.

You quickly turn off the shower, the water disappearing in a rush of steam.

With shaky hands, you reach for a towel, wrapping it around your body. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you try to get dressed in the darkness, with the lights off to keep Sukuna from seeing your naked self anymore.

"Shy, are we?", Sukuna questions, his voice filled with amusement.

"Shut up," you snap, your voice shaky with anger and fear "You're the one who started this," you remind him, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Sukuna just laughs, the sound echoing in your mind as you try to ignore it and gather your thoughts.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, you climb into bed, pulling the covers over your head in an attempt to block out the world.

You close your eyes, hoping for some semblance of peace, but it's not long before Sukuna's voice creeps back into your mind.

"Sleep well, little brat," he says, his voice a dark rumble in the darkness

"Fuck off," you respond, your voice tinged with anger and exhaustion.

"Good night," Sukuna replies, his voice hollow and cold.

With a frustrated sigh, you try to ignore him and drift off to sleep, hoping for a moment of solace in the darkness.

As you fall asleep, you can't help but wonder how much longer you can keep this secret from your friends. You cling to the hope that you'll find a way to control Sukuna and protect those you care about.

In the middle of the night, without warning, your body twitches beneath the covers.

Sukuna takes control, his consciousness merging with yours as you remain blissfully unaware, still asleep.

"Finally, some peace," Sukuna whispers, his voice dark and devious.

He moves your body, stepping out of your bed and turning on the lights.

"Now let's start with my experiments."

Without hesitation, Sukuna's control over your body quickly strips you bare, your clothes falling to the floor.

He guides you towards the mirror, standing you in front of your naked reflection.

"Well, well, well," Sukuna coos, his voice dripping with amusement. "Look what we have here."

He examines every inch of your body, his gaze lingering on your most private areas, making your skin crawl even though you're still asleep.

"Nice," Sukuna approves, his voice low and taunting.

He continues his inspection, running his hands over your body, tracing your curves and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"Oh I really look so pretty," he muses, his voice turning thoughtful.

Sukuna, through your body, reaches for your breasts, gently cupping them in his hands.

A jolt of pleasure courses through him, your body arching slightly in response. The sensation is unfamiliar to him.

"Hmm, yes," he hums, his voice low and satisfied. "Feels so good."

With a hint of anticipation, Sukuna pinches your nipples, his touch sending a shock of pleasure through him.

He gasps, his eyes widening in surprise at the intensity of the feeling.

"So sensitive," he mutters, his voice filled with wonder and desire. "This is so much better than I expected."

Sukuna, through your body, moves towards the bed, lying down on it and spreading your legs wide.

His hand slides down your body, his fingers dipping into your wetness, your body trembling slightly at his touch.

"Ah, you get wet this easily?" he asks, his voice husky with excitement "Your body is so pleasurable."

He begins to stroke you, his movements slow and deliberate, his curiosity growing with every stroke.

A wave of pleasure washes over him, the sensation overwhelming him as he explores your body.

"Oh, this is amazing," he breathes, his voice a mixture of surprise and excitement.

"I want more," he says, his voice filled with determination "I need to explore every inch of this body."

He continues his exploration, his fingers sliding deeper, his touch growing bolder with each passing moment.

"Yes, yes, more," he moans, his voice filled with desire. "I could spend hours on this."

Sukuna's touch becomes more insistent, his fingers moving faster, your body responding to his ministrations even in your sleep.

"Shit this pussy's getting wetter," he muses, his fingers dipping deeper, his touch growing more demanding.

A wave of pleasure crashes over him, his orgasm pulsing through your body, your inner muscles tightening around his fingers.

"Fuck!" he groans, his voice filled with satisfaction "That point.. S-shit.. So tight, so good", he moans thrusting his fingers attacking your weak point.

Soon an orgasm surges through the body, his breathing ragged as he pulls his fingers from your body, leaving you slick and aching.

"That was... amazing," he says, his voice tinged with awe, "I can't wait to do this again," he promises, his voice filled with anticipation

With a final caress, he lies down, your body still trembling from the experience.

"Rest now, vessel."

As Sukuna relinquishes control, you slip back into a fitful sleep, your body still humming with the aftermath of his pleasure.

[islayhawkin]

Capable of love

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Summery: Ominis tried to kiss you but it didn't go as planned which brings up insecurities in him.

Hurt/comfort with bit of angst?

Art by @boxdstars

Ominis burst into the dormitory room. "Sebastian." He snapped. He started to pace nervously around the room.

Sebestian looked at his friend startled. "Oh no. What did I do this time...?" He asked hesitantely.

"For once you didn't do anything. I did. I think I did something very wrong." Ominis couldn't stop his pacing. Self doubt prominent in his voice. Dragging a hand across his face.

Sebastian stood up with a sigh. "Wait ominis. Relax. I'm sure you haven't done anything that severe. Just tell me what happened."

Ominis pinched his eyes. "Promise you won't laugh." He ordered.

There was a moment of silence.

"Sebastian?!" Ominis turned to him in disbelief.

Sebastian took his hands up in defence. "Okay okay. I won't."

Ominis breathed out. "I- I pressed my lips to hers..."

Sebastians eyebrows shot up. "And...?" He asked excited. Ominis could hear the smirk on his face.

Ominis stopped pacing. "And what? Was I supposed to do something else too?" He whispered almost panicked. His usual confident voice had turned into a insecure one. Sebastian wasn't used to seeing him this way.

Sebastian couldn't stiffle a smile forming on his lips. "I can hear you smile sebastian." Ominis said irritably. "This is not funny."

"Sorry. Wait let me get this straight. You tried to kiss her. So you put your lips on hers and did nothing else?"

"Yes? But I think I did it utterly wrong because she didn't react. God I'm such an idiot. I shouldn't have done it." Ominis scrunched his brows in frustration. Sebastian took his friend by the shoulders. Stopping his pacing.

"Okay listen. That's not how kissing works. You have to move your lips. You could suck at her lip and I guess you could stick your tounge into her mouth...that's great..." sebastian trailed off with a smirk.

I look of disgust crossed ominis face. "I don't want to hear about your sexual fantasies sallow. So I did it terribly wrong didn't I?" He went through his hair with his hand. "What should she think of me now?" Sebastian clapped his hand on ominis shoulder. "No. No. Don't worry. I mean you did it wrong..." "not helping." Ominis quipped in. "...but that's no problem. I'm sure she doesn't care."

Ominis frowned angrily. "She'll think I'm a pathetic blind boy. I'm a Gaunt. I'm supposed to know what to do."

Sebastian sat down on his bed with a sigh. "Just talk to her. Or you could give it another try." He shrugged. Ominis turned his body in the direction of his friends voice. "I can't just give it another go. She probably doesn't even want to see me. I need to...apologize. Maybe she'll be able to forget it and we can go back to the way it was." Ominis rambled his thoughts out.

"Did you like it?" Sebastian quipped in. There was silence that filled the room for a moment.

"...What?" asked Ominis stunned.

"Did you like it?" Sebastian repeated. There was a defeaning silence again.

"Yes." Came the hesitant voice of ominis.

                                 ***

Ominis didn't sleep much that night. He already wasn't the best sleeper but the events of the day and his worry about it kept invading his thoughts. His mind came up with every possibility what could happen and what you'd be thinking about him. To the point that his eyes moisted and he had to blink a few times.

He hated not knowing. Not having control. Not being able to see your reaction. He hated himself in this moment for hoping to be loved when he knew he wasn't capable of love.

So he got out of bed, took a shower and headed down to the great hall. It was really early but by the time he sat down there were already a few students up too.

For once he didn't care about the etiquette his family so hurtfully forced upon him. Right know he forget about them for a moment. About the pain he felt from them. Because what he felt now was a different pain. One that made his heart hurt and he didn't know how to deal with it.

                                 ***

As you came down to the great hall too, you dared to glance at him. You noticed immediately that something was wrong with him.

He sat slumped in his seat. Not the usual straight back he was thaught. His hair was touseled and still a bit wet. And dark eyebags were seen under his eyes. Now that wasn't necessarily out of order- his unkempt hair certainly was. You knew that his parents imprinted for him to always look presentable even thought he couldn't see it.

It did worry you. Yesterday he tried to...kiss you. Well you supposed that's what he was trying to do since it didn't really seem like a kiss but more of a...touch. You weren't sure if his intend was to kiss you or if he tried to do something very different and ended up this way. You were simply confused by his action.

On the other side Sebastian nudged his friend next to him. "She's looking at you since a few minutes already."

"Maybe she's looking at you." Ominis mumbled. A bit of red tinted his skin at the picture it brought in his mind. Sebastian snorted. "After that stunt you pulled yesterday I'm sure she's looking at you for a change."

Ominis rolled his glazed eyes. "Will you stop talking about her?" He grumbled angrily. He wished he could see for himself how she was looking at his direction.

"You need to talk to her mate. If you don't I will. I'm sure she's not angry at you. She doesn't look angry." Ominis' mouth pulled together into a thin line. "You will not talk to her. Just drop it." He snapped.

There was a moment of silence as Sebastian glanced at him.

Ominis mumbled a "Sorry." And hastily got up from his seat. He stormed out of the great hall and ignored Sebastians shouts. He just needed to get out of there. Get away from everything. His heart beat painfully in his chest at the idea of talking to you.

With long strodes he made his way to the dungeon were he cowered down in a notch in the wall. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence of the dungeon. Only small noices from changing walls on the other side were heard, which echoed throught the halls.

The stone wall was cold against him but he liked it. He always felt safe in the cold. It meant the warmth couldn't be taken away from him. It meant he wouldn't get punished. He wouldn't feel pain. The more uncomfortable his body felt the safer he was, which let him rest his mind for a moment. Breathing out a long breath.

What had he gotten himself into? He just should've never engaged with this feelings he felt.

He knew letting him act and accept his feelings would have consequences. But he couldn't help himself. The soft touch you gave him shut his logical brain completely off. Your soothing voice made him believe that he could actually be happy. That he could be safe. That he could be...loved.

The reality of his situation came crushing down on him fast. He was a gaunt. He was pathetic. He didn't even know how to kiss. What could he offer her? A blind broken boy to mend, a family who hated her- possibly could harm her. He didn't even dare think about this possibility.

As you saw him storm out of the great hall you decided to speak with Sebastian. You sat down across from him and leaned closer to him.

"Seb do you know what's wrong with ominis?" You asked concerned.

Sebastians mouth quirked into a smile. "Well he told me that you kissed yesterday...?"

You raised your brows. "So that was- he really wanted to kiss me?" Sebastian snorted. "How obvious does he have to make it. What did you think he was trying to do."

You pulled your shoulders up in defence and talked in a hushed tone. "How was I supposed to know what he was trying to do. Maybe he just...thought it was something else."

Sebastian gave you a look and you had to accept that your excuse was terrible. "Okay well he kissed me then. Why does he look so-" you gestured around your head. "Terrible then?" Sebastians playful expression fell. "I think he's struggeling. I've seen him...insecure yesterday. Going on about how he did it wrong." You sighed. "I'm gonna talk to him." Sebastian nodded. "Thank you."

You gave him a small smile and made your way out of the great hall to search for him. Obviously the slytherin area of the castle would be a good point to start.

The echo of your shoes on the dungeon ground made his ears perk up. The rythm of the steps reminded him of yours.

"Ominis?" You asked softly as you found him crouched into the stone wall.

His body tensed up and he held his breath. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I am very remorseful about my actions yesterday. I do apologize for my inappropriate behavior and promise this won't occur again." His posh accent was more prominent and his voice sounded distant.

You shook your head slowly and sat down across from him in the small nook. "Ominis..." you touched his knee softly which made him flinch. You took your hand back with a sigh. "You don't have to put that distant attitude on. You don't have to apologize for yesterday. What is going on with you?"

"No Y/N I did something very wrong yesterday."

"Why was it wrong?"

"Wha- I shouldn't have. It was a mistake. I didn't think. And I didn't ask for your permisson. And Sebastian told me that I didn't do it right." He forced the words out. It pained him to speak it out loud.

"Did you want to kiss me?" You asked softly.

There was silence and ominis swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't lie to you.

"Yes." His voice was unusually unsure of himself.

"Then why was it a mistake?"

"You didn't want it."

"I wanted it. I like you. Of course I didn't mind."

Ominis put his hands in his hair. Making it more touseled. He shook his head. "No. No. You don't want it. You don't want me."

You were stunned for a moment. "What?"

He stood up in frustration. "You don't want me. I am blind. My family is a danger to you. I am pathetic. I am broken. I sleep on the floor at night because...I'm afraid. I don't even know how to bloody kiss. I can't tell you that you look beautiful. I cannot protect you the way I should. I simply cannot give you what you deserve."

There were tears glistening in his eyes. And he was barely able to choke the words out throught the lump in his throat. His hands were trembeling at his side. His chest rising and falling rapidly.

You stood up as well to get closer to him. "Ominis...what are you talking about. I don't care about these things. I like you the way you are. You don't have to be any other way to deserve me. I will sleep on the floor with you. We'll just put our lips together if you want to kiss that way. I only care about you."

You put your hands on his cheeks. In your own eyes were tears too from the pain you saw him in. He tensed under the touch but didn't pull away.

"Please don't see yourself that way. You are worth so much more Ominis. You are enough. You deserve me." You tried to reassure him.

A tear rolls down his cheek onto your hand. "I'm not capable of love. I will do something wrong. I don't know how to love. How to accept love."

"You love sebastian and anne and you love me. You are capable. I'll show you. I'll show you what love means."

You kissed his nose softly and pulled him into a thight embrace. He shook slightly in your arms. "It's okay." You tried to soothe him. A hand gently caressing over his slender back.

Touch had always meant pain for him. But your gentle touch made him forget about it for a moment. Your touch felt so different. So loving.

Ominis felt utterly loved in this moment.

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 3)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Just as Y/N thought she had it all figured out in LA, her world spins out of control when Evan Peters storms in like a tornado. Their electrifying hook-up leaves her reeling, but waking up alone, she fears the worst. Then, a note appears—his number and an invitation to a date teasing her with a chance. What starts as a romantic evening quickly spirals into a frenzy of hide-and-seek and sex.

Warnings ─ Swearing, semi-public, oral (both receiving), doggy, shower sex, overstimulation, fingering, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, extra smutty—you savvy pros, you know the game inside out ;)

Read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Word count ─ 5K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You stir awake, blinking sleep away and squinting against the sunlight that streams through your curtains. A lazy smile curves your lips as you stretch, reaching out for...empty sheets. Mmhh, you just love the taste of nothing.

Evan’s not here... Emotional damage, even if what you had was an agreed one-off fling.

A soft groan escapes you as you fumble for your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. 9:30. As you bury your nose into his pillowcase, you inhale deeply, catching a generous whiff of his essence’s sweet residue. You sigh deeply as your eyes land on the bedside table. His missing keys solidify the reality that he’s bounced, and you can’t help but frown.

“I feel like his side hoe when I should be the main character,” you think aloud, grumbling, and it’s giving trauma dumping and anxious attachment. What a refreshing concoction of disaster.

But what really puzzles you is the extra blanket draped over your duvet like a surprise guest. You wrack your brain, trying to recall if you snuggled up in it during the night, but it’s as hazy as trying to piece together a fuzzy Freudian dream.

With a resigned sigh, you roll out of bed, already craving his warmth. Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you distract yourself with social media updates, news snippets, and the day’s weather forecast while you shuffle to the kitchen for your morning caffeine fix. A pang of disappointment hangs around like a lost sock in the dryer, but you refuse to let it dim your day and activate your female rage.

Or so you tell yourself.

Podcast blaring in the background, you tiptoe your way to the bathroom, facing your reflection in the mirror. You impulsively retrace the invisible path of Evan’s touch on you—from lips to chin, jawline, and neck down your cleavage and stomach. Each sensation has left its mark, and you can’t get enough of the sweet echoes. You sniff through your hair and arms in a desperate attempt to capture his scent on you—a tantalising hint of cinnamon and the musk of his natural oils that never fails to make your knees go weak.

You hop into the shower, letting the scalding water wash away your frustrations. Emerging revitalised and ready to conquer the day, you hastily throw on your work clothes and toss your keys and lanyard into your bag.

And that’s when you spot it by the entrance door—the note board. That bold black marker circling today’s 9 pm to 6 am time slot on your shift calendar, an arrow pointing directly to a message, practically winking at you, “Dinner and quality time with Evan. Text this number for more details.” Your heart somersaults with joy as you read the note over and over again, a goofy grin spreading across your face like wildfire.

You press a quick kiss to the note, folding it carefully and tucking it away as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. With a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest, you dash out the door, already fashionably late.

On the subway, you retrieve the scrap of paper, tracing your fingers over his elegant handwriting with a soft smile. With a sarcastic tonality, you already craft your message, “I thought ghosts just floated around, they don’t ask you out.”

Within seconds, his response lights up your screen. “Morning to you too. Slept well? I’m the upgraded phantom version. Meet your Casper tonight at 9?”

You can’t help but giggle at his wit. Another text pops up, complete with coordinates to the restaurant he’s inviting you. The excitement builds inside you like a shaken soda bottle, and you’re practically fizzing with anticipation to see what the night has in store.

Time seems to trudge along at a sloth’s pace as you grind through your shift at the boutique. You flash your best retail smile as you serve customers on the cash register. Though, your mind is a million miles away, replaying the reel of moments with Evan; those moments when you convinced yourself that your insides were gonna spill out while he was going to town on you.

Half-heartedly, you tidy up the shop floor, picking up stray items and straightening displays. But let’s be real, your fingers move mechanically, and your brain is on autopilot as your thoughts wander back to the anticipation of tonight’s date. The enthusiasm is buzzing through you like a sugar rush, making it damn near impossible to focus on folding clothes or rearranging racks.

Each interaction with a customer is a blur as you absentmindedly tackle the fitting room. They might as well be talking to a mannequin for all you care. Your mind is firmly planted in Evan-land, where every moment is hot and heavy, and you’re too busy mentally undressing him for the umpteenth time.

“Girl, let me in your bubble, would you?” The voice of Trisha, your department’s jokester, slices through your daydreaming like a ninja with a chainsaw.

You blink, momentarily disoriented, before bursting into laughter at her impeccable timing. “Trish!” you exclaim, relishing in her knack to crack you up with her quirky humour. “Sorry, this bubble is strictly reserved for someone today.”

Her giggle rings out like music in the store as she playfully rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine! You do you, boo. Just make sure to save some of that magic for the rest of us in Stylista Gine, deal?”

With a saucy wink, she sashays off to attend to her own tasks, leaving you to shake off your giggles. The minutes tick by, and eventually, your shift mercifully comes to an end. With a sigh of relief and a bounce in your step, you clock out, knowing that soon you’ll be back in Evan’s arms (and on his dick).

You hastily trod along Sunset Boulevard, your sleek dark coat swinging with each step, and your little black dress add an extra sway to your stride. You’re practically power-walking in heels, like you’re in a race against time and your destination is the finish line.

Arriving at the hotel he’s staying at, you adjust the strap of your black stilettos around your ankle, ensuring no wardrobe malfunctions with your stocking will disrupt your night. With your heart thudding, you breeze through the sliding doors and past the reception. 

The tantalising scent of watermelon cocktail teases your senses as you strut in the bar restaurant, scoping out the room with mounting anticipation.

“Hi there, reservation for Peters?” you inquire, shooting a charming smile at the host, your racing emotions briefly receding.

Reciprocating with a polite grin, he quickly checks his tablet before nodding in confirmation. “Got it! Table 8. Right this way, miss,” he affirms, extending his arm in a welcoming gesture. 

Following the host, you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement as you round the corner and spot Evan’s back at the table. He looks effortlessly handsome in his blazer, like he’s just stepped out of a magazine spread, making your stomach churn with blissful nerves.

“Looks like my date’s here, thanks,” you note quietly with a soft smile.

“Awesome! Enjoy,” the host replies cheerfully, heading back to his post.

As you approach Evan, you lean in and give his shoulder a cheeky squeeze—a silent yet affectionate greeting that speaks volume. His gaze lights up with recognition, and he practically jumps from his chair, his grin widening as he’s eyeing you from top to bottom.

“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice laced with enthusiasm. “My eyes needed a bit of a warning for this stunner. Your fit’s so sleek, it looks tailor-made,” he adds shortly after, beaming, as you flow in a warm hug, his arms clinging around you like he never wants to let go.

With a crooked smirk, you blurt out with a touch of sarcasm, “Thanks. I picked it up with you in mind.”

His eyes widen in surprise, his grin expanding by the second. “Seriously?” he squeaks, visually delighted by the notion. 

You giggle, shaking your head. “Nah, but imagine if I did,” you fire back, your hearty laughter dancing in the air like confetti.

Before you know it, an electric tension fills the space between you as you stand mere inches apart, locked in a silent yet smouldering gaze.

“Are we on a ‘try not to kiss’ challenge?” he spills out, his voice an alluring murmur as his minty breath pleasantly prickles your skin.

A sly smile tugs at your lips. “Let’s see who caves and closes the gap first,” you hum as you flicker between his lips and his eyes. He feels the tension coil in his gut but forces it down with a hard gulp. 

Leaning in closer, his breath mingles with yours as he whispers, “You gotta give your best shot not to kiss me, then,” his tone carrying a seductive undertone that sends a delicious thrill rushing through you.

“You wish. No chance I’m smudging my tinted lip balm,” you retort and playfully pinch his nose, punctuating your mocking banter with a wink.

With a graceful flip of your hair and a coy smile, you ease into your chair, feeling the heat of his gaze on you, all self-assured about the sensual spell you’ve cast over him. 

He’s practically eye-fucking you right now, and you’re loving it.

“If that’s your idea of payback for sneaking out this morning, Y/N, I’ve been running errands and exploring new job prospects for next year,” he explains earnestly, handing you a straw for your cocktail and cutlery for your appetisers.

“And I may or may not have picked up a little something for you,” he announces next, pulling out a wrapped box from his blazer pocket, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Your playful vibe evaporates, replaced by a whirlwind of shock and emotion. “Shut the…front door, no way,” you utter sheepishly as you cautiously reach for the unexpected gift.

With a throaty chuckle at your reaction, he jerks his eyebrows upwards, silently encouraging you to dive into the gift.

You eagerly rip open the packaging, gasping in disbelief. “Roland Barthes, Mythologies…Oh my days,” you cry out, unable to believe your luck. Your eyes flit to the curious glances from other patrons in the corner, and you swiftly tone your enthusiasm down a notch.

He nods in understanding, smiling fondly at you. “Yep, saw his Lover’s Discourse on your bedside table, and the bookmark was dangling on the final pages,” he justifies, a knowing twinkle in his gaze.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you slide the book in your bag and rise from your seat. “Ugh, Evan! Thanks a ton, you’re the best,” you gush, your voice thick with gratitude as you move closer to him.

He stands up too, his eyes fixed on yours, soft with affection. Stepping closer, his dark eyes dart from your lips to your eyes, as if he’s wordlessly asking for permission. Instead, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but you gently lift his chin and crane your neck, sealing his plush, pink lips in a brief yet tender peck.

As you break the kiss, Evan blinks in surprise, seemingly caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. His eyes search yours, silently questioning the unspoken feelings that hover between you, his own heart pounding with anticipation.

“Why did that take so long today?” he sighs against your ear, softly touching his lips. His voice, like honey dripping from velvet, resounds in your ears like a melody as he delicately brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes—the colour of rich black chocolate—are glued on yours, and the gravitational pull of his euphoric visual abyss draws you in.

Your heart flutters at the intensity of his gaze, feeling the heat expand through you. “It took long for momentum,” you retort, your tone light with playful teasing as you flash him a coy smile and sit back down.

The buffalo cauliflower bites aren’t the only thing heating up at your table; your conversation’s spicier than a jalapeño popper and with more layers than a double-decker with extra cheese. One minute you’re debating the perfect burrito toppings, embarrassing childhood nicknames, weird dreams, European cinema and 80s bands, and the next, you’re digging into careers, beliefs, goals, and life’s deepest truths.

It’s like a game of emotional Jenga—one block, or in this case, one topic leads to another, and before you could utter ‘Evan, eat me,’ you’ve both laid your souls bare without even realising it.

Fully immersed in the flirtatious banter, Evan beckons invitingly to the seat beside him with a subtle tilt of his head. “Why don’t you slide here, so I can properly admire your outfit?” he mumbles in a husky timbre, his eyes ablaze with desire.

But just as the tension between you ignites like a volcano lava, the waiter interrupts with his timely arrival. “What can I get for you both?” he interjects, shattering the moment. 

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you gesture Evan to go first, shooting him a ‘hold up, let me cook,’ look. With a bold move, you slip off your shoe under the table and discreetly brush your foot against his pant leg.

You feel him stiffen as he places his order, his composure wearing out. Stifling a giggle, you almost sadistically enjoy his flustered state as he clumsily fumbles and drops his menu, the clatter against the plate resonating like a thunderbolt. 

He’s a ten, but he stumbles over his words and over-apologises when aroused in the most inappropriate settings. Take my money, that bumps him up to a solid thirty.  

“Would you like extra cheese with that?” the waiter chimes in, oblivious to the charged atmosphere crackling between you.

Evan nods, swallowing thickly as your foot ventures higher up his thigh, stoking the flames of his growing hardness.

“And you, miss?”

“Eh? Umm, double everything, please. I’ll have what he’s having. Thanks,” you mutter with a half smile, your leg rubbing against his throbbing erection to a fever pitch.

As the waiter marches to the kitchen, Evan clenches his jaw, frustration painted all over his stormy gaze. He bunches his cloth napkin from his lap and tosses it onto his plate, blowing out a sharp, exasperated breath.

“Evan,” you call out with an apologetic expression, watching him push his chair with the backs of his knees and storm off to the bathroom.

You shoulder the heavy door and step into the empty men’s bathroom, your insides wounding themselves in knots. You scan the room, hunting for any trace of Evan, until your gaze lands on the locked door at the end. Curiosity gnaws at you, nudging you to investigate.

With a hesitant knock, you signal your presence. Before you can react, the door swings open, and Evan’s dark eyes greet you from the other side as he pulls you into the room.

The door clicks shut behind you as you quickly take in the gold-hued surroundings: a lavish toilet, a gleaming sink, and a long bench strewn with plush towels and designer toiletries. The place gives you a babushka-esque feel—a mini, fully-equipped restroom within the main one, and it’s like stepping into a VIP sanctuary.

Though, as you register Evan’s proximity, his body pressed flush against yours, your thoughts scatter like marbles on a polished floor, and pleasure sparks sizzle through your veins like a live wire.

“Hey,” you bleat, feeling the tension twist in your gut as you swallow hard, trying to steady yourself. 

His strong arms cradle your waist. He draws you into a tight embrace until you’re cocooned on his lap, the heat of his body searing into your skin.

You cross your legs as he closes the distance between you, his veiny hands fondling and squeezing your thighs greedily and possessively. 

“Evan,” you croak out, clearing your throat to ground yourself as he strokes your cheek with his knuckle. “I realise that might have been a bit much for public display…and I’m sorry,” you mumble, flashing him an apologetic look before averting your gaze.

But his expression remains stern, a furrow creasing his brow as he lets out an exaggerated huff—eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line. “That won’t fix it, I’m afraid. I’m still hurt and embarrassed.” 

You quirk a brow at him, a hint of defiance in your gaze as you meet his unwavering stare. “And what do you suggest now?” you challenge with a sly smirk, a daring spark igniting in your face.

His lips curl into a sinister smile as he leans in, his scorching breath against your ear sending a tremor down your backbone. “Get on your knees, and use this beautiful mouth of yours to show me just how sorry you are,” he whispers as he’s massaging your tits, his words like an electric current buzzing through you at a high voltage.

You snort, your hand weaving through his silky hair as you draw him closer. “Oh, you think you’ve won? I’d be more than happy to suck you up—day and night, overtime included,” you purr, your voice husky with longing as you sink to your knees.

Positioned between his legs, you look up at him with a mischievous smile. “Someone’s suffering in there,” you coo and outline his stiff shaft with your tongue, feeling him twitch beneath the smooth fabric, aching for freedom.

Pinned against the wall, he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, his hips buckling forward in desperate response.

The button of his slacks loosely holds on, barely containing his throbbing beast from bursting it open. Gripping the cold metal of his zipper between your teeth, you drag it down slowly, your pussy dripping as his low growl rumbles from his chest like distant thunder when he finally finds release.

You reach up, flipping down the elastic waistband of his boxers so you can slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along his pulsing crimson tip.

“Suck it, don’t tease,” he commands, his tone rigid and thick with desire. You comply without hesitation, eagerly licking off the subtle traces of his seed off the tip, twirling your tongue around it.

Your mouth is immediately slick with his precum, the thick fluid coating the corners of your lips. The heady scent drives you wild as you savour every drop of his essence. You keep using your tongue to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges and pressing into the squishy flesh of his head.

He bites down on his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he battles to muffle his grunts, his body quivering with need.  

When you finally close your lips around his painfully hard cock, he reacts with a sharp intake of breath. His fingers thread through your hair as he breathlessly whines your name like a fervent prayer. From that angle, his dimples appear as dark slits along his cheeks, adding to his rugged allure.

You meet his gaze with a sultry mewl of pleasure, giving your throat more room to take him in harder and deeper into your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you glide lower on him as you hold onto his pelvis until his head crushes the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex.

Challenge accepted; you handle him like a pro.

“Y/N, you’re… oh, fuck… No,” he sputters out with an intense shudder, rubbing his eyes as he fights the overwhelming tide of his impending orgasm.

“Load me,” you exhale teasingly as you pull him out of your mouth only to pump him back down with renewed hunger. He intertwines his fingers with yours, guiding your movements as you kick off a slow, torturous rhythmic ordeal just to gauge his reaction.

With a choked moan, he tightens his grip, sticking his convulsing cock all the way down with urgency, thrusting in your mouth with a ruthless pace.

His move and the resonance of his deep voice send a surge of heat to your core that consumes you, tripling the moisture in your panties.

You want him in ways that will add new sins to the bible.

Each time you rise, you suck his tip with fervour before slamming back down on his throbbing length. The symphony of moans he’s emitting are almost sinful—you’ve never gotten soaking wet just from hearing a man groan. He’s gonna be the death of your ovaries.

As you steal a gaze upwards, his abs glistening with a sheen of sweat, you watch his head fall back. “No,” he breathes out repetitively, his chest heaving and his Adam’s apple bobbing—a tell-tale sign that he’s on the brink of letting his load spray onto anything in the room.

His balls tighten, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turn sloppy and messy. Blinded by pleasure, his mind goes blank as he teeters on the edge.

Still panting, he hauls you off him more forcefully, his fingers hooking onto the hem of your stockings. You notice his nose scrunch up in clear disapproval as he glares at your lips—swollen and shining with wetness—immediately stripping you off your undergarments with raw intensity.

Flipping you over so your upper body’s bent over the wooden bench, he gropes your ass cheek before slapping it harshly, making you squeal with excitement. “Why do I have to say no twice?” he growls, his voice ringing with dominance as he claims you as his own.

You’re ovulating, so your audacity and inhibitions are thrown to the wind, acting like you’ve been dick-deprived your entire life. “I wanna tick you off so much you show no mercy. Just take me already,” you demand, your voice heavy with despair.

With a guttural groan, he obliges, rutting his hips as he lines up his leaking tip with your entrance. The moment he meets your wet folds, you both gasp in unison as he plunges in you. The sensation of him filling you up sparks fireworks as he humps you in long, steady thrusts, his velvet plush head bumping against your swollen clit with a delicious friction.

Your cries threaten to spill out, but his hand clamps gently over your mouth to shush you, his dark eyes flashing with warning. “We have to be quiet, baby,” he rasps, his voice tinged with lust. You turn over your shoulder and nod underneath his grasp, your half-lidded eyes glazing with pleasure.

A muffled yelp roars against his palm as he drills his aching cock deeper inside of you. You grip the edge of the bench tightly, and the sound of it banging against the wall echoes through the room, adding a primal rhythm to your ecstasy. The sensation of your slithery walls stretching to accommodate his thick dick is nothing short of mind-blowing for both of you.

Using the bench for leverage, he thrusts harder, his hand trailing up to caress the curve of your ribs as you writhe beneath him. “Fuck, I love your wet little pussy,” he hisses with primitive desire. “Cum for me, Y/N, all over my dick.”

“I’m getting there, baby. I wanna drown in your juices,” you moan, feeling his jaw slacken against your back as your walls pulse around his throbbing cock.

Just as the bench keeps bashing against the concrete wall in sync with your rising orgasms, a sudden crash breaks the intensity of the moment. The yellow paint plastic box from above the shelf tumbles down—its contents splattering over both of you and the wall, creating an impromptu abstract masterpiece in the spur of the moment.

You both freeze, paint trickling down your bodies, adding vibrant hues to your flushed skin. Evan blinks in surprise, his hands still gripping your hips as he takes in the colourful chaos engulfing you.

“Well, we certainly went hard on the paint,” he quips, trying to lighten the mood despite the unexpected interruption.

You chuckle nervously as you survey the lively mess. “Looks like we got more than we bargained for tonight,” you shoot back, your voice filled with playful mischief.

With a wicked smirk, Evan swipes paint off your cheek, leaving a colourful streak between you two as you embrace. “We’ve got a cleanup on our hands before we can get back to what we—” His words are abruptly cut off by approaching footsteps.

Though the intoxicating passion still clouds your mind, one detail arises with sobering clarity: You’re screwed (literally). 

“You hit it off with the first three cubicles, I’ll handle the ones from the end, and we’ll meet in the middle,” a deep man’s voice echoes from outside, sending a jolt of panic through both of you. 

Evan winces and involuntarily grabs your hand. Your body stiffens as you lace your clammy fingers with his, the paint already forming a small puddle at your feet.

Acting on pure instinct, he ushers you deeper into the toilet, using his foot to discreetly slide the torn condom wrapper closer to your hiding spot.

“What’s the plan now?” you mouth. Your palms are raised in a questioning gesture, fingers wiggling subtly, as your breath comes in shallow, shaky huffs.

Evan shrugs. “That was a plot twist, didn’t see it coming,” he replies, barely audible in his hushed response.

You hang onto his shirt for dear life, your face taking a ghost-like pale complexion as you weigh the consequences of the trouble you’re about to get in. “The door’s locked, but there’s a little slot under it. Shall I wait up here until they’re gone?” you pantomime your words, attempting to convey your plan to Evan with the finesse of a silent movie star. But as you try to hoist yourself up and chamber onto the toilet seat, you slip, almost tumbling backward.

Evan swoops in to catch you like a superhero, his forehead wrinkled by worry lines, eyes wide with alarm. “You good?” he whispers urgently, pressing a finger to his lips in a frantic plea for silence.

You nod vigorously, gesturing toward the door with exaggerated motions, communicating your escape plan like you’re on the charades: “Let’s go check if we’re clear, then sneak out.”

Nodding in silent agreement, he unlocks the door with a flick of his wrist. Poking his head out, he peers cautiously into the corridor. You stretch up on your tiptoes, craning your neck to peek out over his shoulder, scanning the corridor for any sign of movement.

Finding no one in sight, you both spring into action with the speed and stealth of seasoned spies. You snatch up as much toilet roll as you can, using it to hastily wipe away the evidence of your paint mishap. The paper becomes saturated with soap and water as you scrub your life away, determined to leave no trace behind.

Before you know it, Evan seizes your hand, purse and shoes, and you skitter out of the bathroom like you’re escaping a high-security prison. You zip past the slightly open doors of the other stalls, and as you weave the maze of hallways, you catch a glimpse of the two cleaning men hard at work—one wielding a toilet spray like a weapon on the lead, while the other, two doors ahead, diligently mops the floor.

 

You burst out of the bathroom, hearts racing and adrenaline pumping, feeling like you just pulled off the heist of the century. In the dimly lit corridor between the toilets and the restaurant, you exchange triumphant grins, basking in the rush of your daring gateway. With a quick, victorious high five, you’re both ready for the next phase of your adventure.

But before you can catch your breath, Evan pulls you close, his lips crashing against yours in a fiery kiss that sets you on fire. His tongue dances with yours, igniting a fierce passion between you. As his hands start to wander along your ass and clit, you can’t resist and melt into his touch, a soft moan slipping off you.

Reality hits you like a freight train, and you protest against his lips, reluctantly swatting his hands away and pushing him back gently. “You can’t waltz back to your table looking like nuggets dipped in mayo, and I don’t have a spare wardrobe stashed in my purse,” you whine. With a determined swipe, you rub off a scuff mark from his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his face as he nods in understanding.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, and without missing a beat, he takes your hand and leads you in the direction of the toilet. But as you reach the door, he steers you towards the emergency door instead. Throwing yourselves outside, you’re met with the frigid night air, an uninviting shock after the warmth of the restaurant.

The cold bites at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arms. But Evan is quick to replace your coat, which still hangs off your table chair, and envelops you in an embrace, rubbing your arms to warm you up.

You cling to him, his body heat a comforting embrace as he cups your hands in his, blowing warm breath into them. The moon casts a soft glow over a secluded pond before you, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the hotel.

“I’ve got good and bad news,” Evan chirps, his voice tinged with a mischievous undertone. You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as you lean closer to him, flakes of paint dropping off your arms as he intensifies his rubbing.

“Spill the good news first. Enough shocks for today, I wanna buy myself some time.” 

“The good news is,” he begins, a grin spreading across his face, “my rented place is over there,” he reveals and points behind you. You follow his gaze to the tall complex of flats that extend from the main hotel.

You hum in acknowledgment, planting a quick peck on his lips. “Alright… and what’s the bad news?” you inquire, already bracing yourself for whatever curveball he’s about to throw your way.

“The bad news is that if we wanna keep the prying eyes at bay,” he continues, his eyes fixed on you in mounting suspense, “we’ve got some climbing to do.”

The grass crunches under your feet as you wade through the greenery, your heels sinking into the mud with each step. You duck under the low archway in the middle and reach the towering fence.

“Damn, that’s taller than I thought,” he mutters, eyeing the fence with a furrowed brow.

“Piece of cake,” you counter with a coy smile, tossing your heels on the other end. You make the first move by planting your toes on a cracked piece in the wall, gripping the hurdle tightly to propel yourself upwards.

As he gives you an extra push, his hands boldly grazing your ass, a mischievous sparkle gleams in his eyes. “Speaking of cakes,” he cheers, squeezing your curves as his eyes linger on the enticing view of your cunt beneath your dress, his grin broad and cocky.

“Stay focused, dude,” you hiss, playfully waving him away as you divert your attention back to the task at hand.

With a hint of concern in his voice, Evan watches you climb, ready to catch you if you falter. “Take it slow, Y/N. With this velocity, you gotta use one leg at a time...” he advises, his arms poised to assist you.

Rolling your eyes, you brush off his instruction. “The mansplaining’s redundant, Peters. I’ve got this,” you scold jokingly, confidently manoeuvring over the obstacles.

“It’s hard... oh, mind your head on the branches…” he mumbles, absentmindedly repeating “it’s hard” as he observes your every move with a mix of awe and disbelief.

When you safely tumble over to the other side, he can’t help but chuckle nervously, astonished by your agility. “Oh, that was easy…it was really easy, actually” he mumbles with a shake of his head, mouth agape, still processing your swift ascent.

“Come on, slowpoke,” you taunt, your voice laced with playful challenge. You dust off your hands, the thrill of the escape still coursing through your veins.

“I’m just taking my time,” he defends as he carefully navigates his way over the fence. 

“Says the guy who played Quicksilver,” you mock, giggling, and run your tongue along your teeth with a cheeky smile.

As Evan finally makes it over the fence, he stumbles on a loose stone, his footing giving way beneath him. You gasp, lunging forward to catch him as he starts to fall backward, his arms flailing wildly as he tries to regain his balance.

“Watch out!” you cry out, and you manage to pull him back from the brink of spraining his ankle on the way down. 

He winces in pain, clutching his leg as he tries to stand. “Ouch, that was close,” he groans, his breath hitched. 

Concern floods through you as you help him to his feet, supporting him as he tests his injured ankle. “You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice.

Evan nods, his expression strained. “I think so,” he replies, clenching his jaw against the discomfort.

You sigh, realising that your adventure may have taken an unexpected turn. “Maybe we should take it easy for now, old man,” you suggest once you realise he’s fine, suppressing a laugh as you guide him back to safety.

As you playfully rib Evan with the “old man” label, he retaliates by tickling you, his fingers sending ripples of loud laughter down your spine. You squirm and wriggle, trying to escape his teasing grasp, but he’s relentless.

“Alright, alright, I give up!” you yell, breathless from both laughter and excitement. But Evan doesn’t stop there. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he picks you up into his arms, his lips hammering against yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue swirling with yours. 

“Let me show you who’s the old man,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with desire and challenge as he carries you off.

The reception area lies deserted, and the dull glow of an overhead light seeps through the crack at the bottom of the slightly ajar cleaning storage door. 

“Anyone here?” he calls out, testingly, but there’s no response. Without wasting any time, you make a beeline for the elevator. The ding of the lift makes you jump, you launch your bodies up the stairs, bounding them up like a panther on the prowl, your feet padding down on the carpeted floor.

You creep into his room, edging the door shut until the latch clicks into place, and you pause to laugh at the yellow patches on your body. “I feel like I’ve just wrestled a pig in a mud pit.” 

“I’ve got the best way to clean it all up?” he mumbles sloppily into your lips, his arms folded around your waist, massaging your ass.

Hot water spurts out of the shower faucet, raining down marvellously on the tiled floor. You smile, holding your hand up to it and watching the paint, mostly dried now, run off your legs before landing on the ground and swirling around the drain. The temperature is heavenly, able to ease even the deepest aching of your shoulders, and your smile widens.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, planting a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone.

You bite down your lip at the sensation. “Finger-fuck while you kiss me, first. I need it,” you huff in despair, eyes imploring.

“You wish, I deliver, baby,” he breathes out, suckling on your pulse as you lightly pump his erect shaft in your hand in your fluid motion. He seems way too horny and too into you to say no.

He grunts and grounds his hips against your inner thigh. Against the wall, his fingers dip in, gathering some of your warm, slithery wetness and splotching it over your shiny folds. His free hand claws on your face, dragging you for a breathless kiss.

“Gosh,” you moan chokingly, an exhilarating lilt in your words. Your back arches as you feel that knot in your stomach beginning to snap. The pad of his middle finger keeps tapping and circling your clit, and you feel the escalating climb of your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch, and once he realises this, his fingers slowly drift away from your weeping cunt, his slick fingers gripping your thigh.

“Wh-why?” you protest in frustration.

Without uttering a single syllable, he snatches the detachable shower head, a smirk playing on his lips as he winds the cable around his wrist. He cranks the setting to its highest level and kneels down, parting your slopping folds with a confident touch. His lips curve in a devilish smile as he takes sight of your pulsating pussy clenching around nothing, giggling as he realises he’s edged you so badly.

As he positions the shower head near your throbbing clit, you instinctively clamp your hand over your mouth, stifling the shrill whimper that threatens to escape. The sensation of the water hitting your sensitive bud forces your breath out in punchy, laboured gasps as you feel the vibrations bringing your high closer.

He laps at your cunt like it’s a melting ice cream cone, and it doesn’t take long for your sweet cream to leak out along his mouth. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyelids fluttering as you’re consumed by the tsunami of your looming orgasm. Each flick of his tongue sends tremors through your thighs, the wet, slick sounds filling the room.

His tongue flattens out against your clit and you let out a needy whine, your hips instinctively bucking against his mouth. He presses his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue jerking at the underside of your clit. As he licks at your entrance, he sinks his tongue into your soaking hole, you cum on his tongue, grinding his face, moaning your name in heavy, ragged pants.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, he stands up straight, his hands gently caressing your waistband in a soothing gesture. But you’re not done yet. With a hungry urgency, you pull him into a kiss, your lips melding together.

He backs you against the wall, hiking up your thighs and wrapping them tightly around his waist. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him to your dripping entrance. As he slams into you, the world around you fades away, and your head lolls back in ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grunts as he pounds harsher and faster in you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

Your slick is trickling down his cock, creating a slippery mess on his thighs as he drives into you relentlessly. His breathing picks up pace, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and steam. You almost had him, until his hands forces your hips down onto his cock as far as they would go, his tip nudging against your cervix.

A scream tears from your lips as you squirm against his ruthless assault and bruising force. The tip of his cock brushes against that spongy spot inside you time and time again, the lewd squelching sounds of your poor, swollen cunt only a faint indicator that you were close.

In the misty haze of the shower, you catch him smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual above him. Your tits bounce tantalisingly in front of him, a tempting feast he can’t resist as he reaches out to grab them in his mouth, eager to taste every inch of your trembling body.

As the unbearably tight, hot coil in your abdomen snaps, you’re unable to contain the set of moans that spill from your lips. A tingling heat spreads across your body, your muscles contracting and burning with the intensity of your release.

His face contorts in pleasure, his brows knitting together as his jaw drops in awe. His breaths come out in hurried, choppy huffs as he pumps inside you, warm, white strings of cum painting your walls as if he marks his territory and you as his own.

“Ugh, I’m dizzy...and l look like shit,” you huff out, your voice laced with giggles. Evan stays still for a moment, burying his face into the crook of you neck.

“You’re dizzy but beautiful,” he rasps, chuckling breathlessly, and you feel your cheeks flushing. He strokes your face, his touch tender and loving as he presses soft kisses against your lips. Your tongues dance together in a sweet and intimate exchange as soft moans escape both of you.

Slowly, he pulls out. A mix of your juices coats his tip as it drips from your hole in a seductive display of your shared ecstasy.

“I want cuddles on the bed now,” he says, his voice soft and pleading, a hint of a pout playing on his lips as he gazes at you with adoration.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[blughxreader]

CW: AFAB reader. Pregnancy kink.

Hello, Darling!

Meet your new yandere boyfriend, Sunny.

Sunny is the head of a new religion! He gives lessons to thousands of people across the globe through online lectures, and is becoming more prevalent in main-stream news. He's passionate, family-oriented, and very mild-mannered!

He truly believes he's doing the world a favor, so you've found yourself a very selfless man.

With Sunny, you'll never feel left out. He values a domestic life above all else, so every fun event, every "couple milestone," every sermon, he wants you by his side.

His love language is words. He'll sit and talk with you for hours, asking you every question you'll let him and listening to your response like it was coming God's mouth itself.

He's in such awe for you that he sometimes can't keep it to himself. You should take his bouts of mania as a compliment, because you've managed to drive this well-collected man to a love-stricken hysteria!

♡ ♡ ♡

Sunny is a delusional yandere.

He has periods of lucidity, where he understands why you're not returning his love, and periods of oblivion. In both states, though, he expects you to at least greet him with a smile!

If you find yourself in trouble with him, expect to be bound and gagged, confined in small spaces, and forced to choose between impossible options. He doesn't like admitting this, but having absolute control over you and your body is the greatest feeling!

His favorite punishment of all is locking you in a coffin-sized box and shoving it under his bed each night. Falling asleep to your muffled cries and knowing you'll come crawling to him for forgiveness in the morning always makes him sleep well!

A note about him: despite being the head of a cult, he doesn't like sharing!! Until he's sure Stockholm Syndrome has fully set in, the cult members won't even know what you look like.

To get on Sunny's good side, play the part of a doting spouse! He'll shower you in gifts, praise, and attention, so do the same.

And if you really, really, want him to be at your beck and call, start a family with him! From day one, Sunny will make it known he wants to see you pregnant. You'd be smart to be skeptical of him during sex, but he won't do anything nefarious if you insist you're not ready!

(Until the years tick by and his patience runs thin... But you have a long time to prepare for that!)

♡ ♡ ♡

"Don't cry, Darling. I'll be here the whole time."

"It feels like we were made for each other. Can't you feel it, too?"

"You're stunning. You're so stunning. I wish I could keep you tied up like this forever."

"Please let me put a baby inside of you."

"Why are you by yourself? Are you sad? Come here, baby."

"Hush... I'll forgive you soon. Loosen your muscles—that's right."

♡ ♡ ♡

Sunny worships you. He might take some liberties with your punishments, but he does it because you drive him insane. He's yours, body and soul.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will you date him?

[ YES / NO ]

Visit the Other Yandere masterlist for more content!

[rinbowaman]

RANDOM THOUGHT

This is the look when heethan succeeds in baby trapping you, and watches you cry because you’re too young to have a baby. You wanted to finish college, get married, and wait a few years. But naw, this man pumped you so much with his juices every night, sneaked your birth control into the garbage can, lied to you every single time you asked him “are you wearing a condom?” And stealthily released inside you over and over again in one session. Him, and his alter ego.

All those times when you felt slightly bloated, thinking you drank too much water or tea, it really was because this man slowly thrusted into you while you slept, sometimes drugging you undetected as he gives you sleeping pills instead of your multi vitamins, or giving you the sleepy time tea instead of green or jasmine.

This man would run his fingers through your hair as you whined while being unconscious as he kept thrusting more and more while you’re sleeping peacefully, or trying to. If the harrowing physical act of being impregnated is not haunting your dreams as he’s doing you.

You walk around leaking all day wondering why because according to your ‘memory’ you guys had sex the night prior and you had showered and cleaned up afterwards. So why are you dripping with his cum sliding down your legs?

You wake up one morning feeling incredibly sick to the stomach. Nausea hits you and you spend an entire day throwing up non-stop. You go to the hospital to get medicine for what you suspect is the flu. They make you take a urine test as protocol, and you don’t think anything of it because after all, each time you did it he was wearing a ‘condom’, and you were awake. But surprise! The test comes back positive and the nurses and staff congratulate you as they schedule all of your follow up appointments, while you’re sitting there crying. They mistake it for tears of joy.

You figured a condom broke and expected him to be just as shocked as you are when you tell him but when he hears of the news…

“Hmph. About time—I was about to take things up to a drastic level.”

You stare at him and yell. “Why did you do this to me?!”

His eyes remained hidden under the shadow of his hat and he hugs and kisses you forcefully while telling you…

“So you can never leave…now you’re stuck with me forever.” >:) “Guess forever starts now. I’m so happy, and you should be too. Now put a smile on your goddamn face…otherwise I can give you something else to smile about.”

#isaidwhatisaid #sorrynotsorry #hewoulddoittoo #manisinsane #doesnotcare #aslongas #hehasyou #hesyandere #obsessive #possessive #toxic #andhesays #itsallyourfault #helovesyou #takeitbaby

[ouchmyheart22]

Buggy Headcanons (OPLA! Buggy the Clown)

SFW

SO insecure. Like he craves reassurance and validation like 100%. Why do you think he stresses over his show so much ? He needs everything to be perfect, so everyone thinks HE’S perfect and shower him in praise and compliments.

Perfectionist, especially when it comes to the show - like has things planned exactly as he wants in his head and will not settle for any less than that. Someone isn't on their mark and he's having a bad day? Walk the plank. Spotlight is off centre? Plank. Someone forgot to wash his favourite white gloves? Better hope you're a good swimmer cause that's right, off the plank you go.

Meticulous with his makeup and hair - and yes it's meant to look like that honey. You just don't understand his style.

Bisexual king 👑 (Shanks x Buggy 4ever)

Definitely got (stole) that fur coat from a hooker.

Touch starved and NOT proud of it. Oh you touched his arm gently? You hand him something and your fingers touch? You help him back to the captains quarters after a wild night? Buggy will spend the next three days imagining your wedding and children's names.

Such a flirt, like he loves to make people blush (or grimace). He wants to make people uncomfortable. It's just that though, flirting, very little leads from Buggy's innuendos and teasing. If someone does decide to take him up on the offer, he is a little shocked, but never shows it.

Bad cook, like oh my god can this man even toast bread?

Genuinely loves his crew - he calls them freaks with such admiration and respect. He's been called a freak for so long he thinks the term should be worn with a badge of honour.

NSFW

Definitely an ass man (Yet again, bisexual king)

Perv. 1000% a perv. Such a peeping Tom, gets off on the idea that you don't know you're being watched. Will watch you shower, get changed, touch yourself. If you’re not together, he will not intervene (insecurities) but he will cum into his hand at the thought of what he could’ve done to you.

Would definitely detach his ear so he could listen to you. Your soft breathing as you dream? Heavenly. Your quiet moans as you coax yourself to the edge? Sinful.

Will tip you off on his eyes and ears everywhere, hell he’ll probably tell you that sounded like you were having a hard time getting to sleep last night (wink wink). But he never expects anything to come of it.

More of a receiver than a giver (he's insecure okay!) - LOVES to get his cock sucked.

High praise - he understands what it feels like to be insecure, so if you're doing a good job he will tell you! 'good girl, taking me so well' 'You look so pretty on your knees'.

SUCH A SIMP - body worship KING, he will tell you how pretty, sexy, gorgeous, beautiful etc. till the cows come home (or until you do)

Definitely a switch. He loves being in control, it makes him feel powerful and confident yet I think he's such a simp he would give that power up no problem for the right person.

He loves to be called captain - no, he NEEDS to be called captain

Hello my lovelies!! Thank you for reading <3

Please send any asks or requests :)

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Skin Deep - Part 10.3

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!freader x male OC, f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Word Count: 9.4k

***A/N: After a bit of a hiatus from the app and writing, this chapter has been a long time coming. It’s been hanging in my docs for quite a while, but I’m stoked to have it finally posted for everyone. This part might be a bit polarizing and intense for some readers, so I strongly encourage you read the warnings before diving right in. I’m quite nervous about this update***

As always, I appreciate all the love, support and feedback y’all give me ❤️

Warnings: cursing, brief mentions of marijuana use and alcohol consumption, angst/toxic themes and behavior (jealousy, extreme anger, allusions to cheating, and manipulation), physical aggression, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI 18+ (unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, degradation, dacryphilia - arousal from tears or sobbing, spit kink, spanking, mentions of blood, choking if you squint a lot, and please feel free to message me if I have missed anything on this list!)

Masterpost, Part 10.2

You must’ve fallen asleep the second you closed your eyes because the next thing you feel is a hand nudging your arm, waking you up. You go to stretch out the tightness locking your tired muscles, but the weight of Josh passed out on your chest keeps you pinned to the bed. 

You try to rub the sleepy glaze from your eyes with the heels of your palms, mumbling, “Hmm…what?”

Kai stands, causing the mattress to bounce and creak with the loss of weight. “I need a shower,” He whispers. “Will you take one with me?”

“Sure,” you groan through the stiffness. It takes a little coaxing, but you still manage to slide out from under Josh without waking him. By the time you can swing your bare feet onto the hardwood floor, Kai has already walked out of the room. 

You stumble your way into the bathroom, wincing at the bright lighting. “I gotta pee…” you trail off, walking past him, but when he doesn’t take the hint, you turn to give him a look. 

He lets out an airy laugh and starts to rummage through the vanity drawers. “Oh, kitten…you act like I wasn’t just inside you an hour ago.” He turns his head to you, emphasizing the remark with a teasing wink. “And you wouldn’t believe the money I’ve made off of women pissing on me… So yeah, that’s kind of the least of my worries, wouldn’t you think?” You grimace in disgust, causing him to flash a grin at you before continuing his search, unbothered by you completely. He then asks over his shoulder, “You’re on birth control, right?”

You push out a heavy sigh into your hands as you settle onto the toilet seat, “Yes, Kai. I am sleeping with both of them, remember?”

He huffs, finally finding what he’s looking for — a spare, cheap toothbrush from the bottom drawer, and starts ripping open the packaging and points it at you. “Which reminds me, I should stop by the clinic this week.” While you’re sure it’s only teasing, you shoot a death glare at him anyway, making him chuckle.   

“I’m kidding! Kind of…” He trails off as he pipes out a line of toothpaste across the pristine bristles. “But in all seriousness, what’s up with you and Jake anyway?”

You scoff, “What’s up with you and Jake?”

“I asked first,” he mumbles around the head of the toothbrush tucked inside his cheek.

You remain glued to the toilet seat, pondering over the question in silence as he continues brushing his perfect teeth. A part of you is hopeful that he'll drop the topic altogether, but the curious raise of his brows says otherwise. You wish you knew the right answer — the perfect explanation for what you were. In reality, you don’t have a clue of what the label would be. You haven’t created the space for it in your life yet. “Fine,” you sigh. “I honestly don’t know what’s up with us. Weeks ago I got a tattoo done by him and by the end of that night, I ended up fucking both of them.”

A few seconds pass, making you look up to see Kai’s eyes widen in the mirror until he breaks away to stare at you. 

You laugh nervously, “I know. It’s kind of crazy to think about, but it’s been going on like that — with both of them since then.”

He spits a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink before following up. “Are you guys like…dating?”

The question takes you back, but you can’t say you didn’t see it coming. “I don’t think so. Not like…conventionally in any way.” Saying the words not only to yourself but in front of Kai fills you with a sense of dread and growing shame. You can’t hide behind your ignorance or delusions. Not being able to hold eye contact, your focus drops to your hands as you anxiously pick at your nail beds. “He always gives me mixed signals and I never know what he’s thinking most of the time. When I feel like I get close, he kind of shuts me out almost. Sometimes I get the feeling like we’re a couple…and then sometimes it’s like I’m just a friend with benefits to him.” Your head falls, and finally spit out the fear that's been lingering in the back of your throat. “…I think he’s been sleeping with other girls though.”

He huffs a dry laugh, missing the shift in your tone, “That’s Jake for you.” It was a poor attempt at bringing some levity back, but when he realizes that is failing, sincerity washes over his sharp features. “I’m sorry, kitten.”

Your voice breaks when you ask, “Is that really how he is?”

He shrugs, taking another washcloth from the stack to wipe the corners of his mouth. “He’s always been closed off and to himself, but I can’t say he’ll be opening up to me any time soon.”

You finally get up to turn on the shower, “Yeah, I guess. But what’s the deal with you and him? Why does he hate you so much?”

Kai watches you work the handles to find the right temperature before stepping in. He winces, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Oh…well. I’m pretty sure he hates me because I may or may not have unknowingly slept with his ex.”

That wasn’t the answer you were expecting from him. It stuns you, taking you by surprise as warm water sprays over you. “You what?!”

He shushes you dramatically with a finger to his lips as he follows you inside the shower. “Let me explain,” he starts with a weak laugh, but the smile accompanying it doesn’t reach his eyes. “So at the time, his girl, Roxi, was at this random house party that I went to. She approached me that night and we hit it off, but she somehow conveniently skipped around divulging the fact that she was with, or had very recently broken up with him. One thing led to another —yada, yada, yada— we ended up hooking up that night. The next morning I woke up to a frightening amount of angry and wildly alarming texts and voicemails from Jake. Come to find out, someone saw us together and had told him. To me, she was a hot girl that wanted to have some fun. But to him, I ruined his fucking world and he hasn’t forgiven me since.”

Your mouth drops open but you don’t bother catching it. You stand before him, blindsided by the bombshell dropped in your hands. “Oh my god. You didn’t know?”

He shrugs, reaching for Jake’s shampoo bottle off the tile ledge. “No, I had no clue. I know you’ve never met her, but if you do, you will see that she has a certain way about her.” He chuckles, but it sounds more like a warning. “I should’ve known it was a bad decision from the jump, but c’est la vie I guess.”

Processing everything he has just told you proves to be a nearly impossible feat, but it’s able to bring some clarity to his behavior while leaving you wanting more. “Does Jake know that you didn’t know?”

He scoffs at the notion, “You honestly think Jake gives a fuck about that? He probably assumes I have some fucked up motive to steal you away from him too. Which I can’t say I blame him for.” He pauses, massaging the high-end shampoo into a rich lather through his raven-black locks.  “So it’s looking like I don’t know how to learn my lesson…but where’s the fun in that?”

You reach for the same bottle, throwing him a disappointed glare. “No wonder he’s so pissed at me. I’m such an asshole, Kai.” 

He places his soapy hands on your shoulders, grounding you to him and reassuring you with an affectionate touch. “And how were you supposed to know that, hmm? His hatred for me goes way back… way before you ever came into the picture, trust me.”

He’s trying. You’ll give him that, but the words don’t help ease the guilt you’re feeling. “I certainly didn’t make it better. He’s going to be so upset.”

Kai’s fingers knead away the tightness in your neck. He’s trying to distract you now, and you don’t fight him on it. “I can hold my own and so can he.”

“Does Josh know?”

He hesitates, even if it’s only for a few seconds.“Yeah, but he kind of went Switzerland on the whole thing. He stuck his head down and minded his business, which was probably for the best. Josh learned early on not to insert himself between Roxi and Jake.” 

You try not to let the truth leave a stain on your evening, but it bleeds through regardless.“Why didn’t he say anything to me about her?”

“Probably didn’t think she was important enough to.” Kai isn’t oblivious to how this is affecting you either. He closes the remaining distance between you, tipping your chin up with a careful nudge of his finger, drawing your drifting attention back to him. His piercing green eyes appear darker than before — softer even. The game you found yourselves in has ended, and the intentions behind them have shifted, making you feel comfortable in his embrace. “Listen, don’t let this shit get in the way. If Jake is out here holding grudges, that’s on him.”

You look up and stare into his haunting irises,  muttering, “Okay…yeah. You’re right.” 

Just as you take in his details —the fans of dark lashes framing his eyes, the water rolling off the bridge of his nose, the heavy droplets falling from the ends of his hair— he studies yours.  “You love him, don’t you?”

“H-Huh? What?”

“Josh.” A smirk plays on his lips just as his fingers snake up your neck and skate across your scalp. “I can see it in your eyes when you look at him.”

Him calling you out like that flusters you, and you begin to stammer over yourself. His expression softens at the sight of your anxiety, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your open lips. 

It’s chaste and sweet, verging on platonic rather than sexual. “Relax, kitten. I get it. Your secret is safe with me.”

You think of him sleeping peacefully stretched across his bed. You’re blushing, still high of the euphoria and weed from earlier. You've been convincing yourself that it’s puppy love, or at least textbook infatuation, so you take his observation with a grain of salt. Deciding to change the subject, you ask with a quirked brow,  “So what if I met you first?”

His facial expression shows he’s a little surprised by your question, but doesn’t stumble over it for long. “If you met me first? …Well, I would have wooed like I did tonight.” He grins, pausing to capture your lips in another kiss, one that lingers this time. “Fucked your pretty brains out for a few weeks and string you along before slowly distancing myself. Probably tell you that I’m not looking for anything serious because I’m horrendously emotionally unavailable.”

You huff a tired laugh, rolling your eyes before dipping your head under the stream of water. “At least you’re honest.”

“Always.”

Sadness starts to settle when you realize how fleeting this is with him, weighing down on your heart. “So what’s gonna happen tomorrow?”

He hums, mirroring a similar feeling. It pulls his lips into a frown before he hides it with a shallow smile. “We’ll wake up a little hungover, maybe have some more fun. Then we’ll have breakfast and say our goodbyes and I’ll keep being his friend just the same as I did before.”

Your eyes fall from his as you nod along to the rose and fall of his voice. You’re starting to grow attached, and trying your best not to let the reality of this being the last time you’ll see him upset you. 

“Hey, stay with me, okay?”

Your shoulders fall but you mask your emotions with a brave face.“Okay.”

“He feels the same way you do, you know?”

“I dunno about that. You both seem pretty similar in that regard.”

“I’m serious. I can tell. Even if he’s totally being “Josh” about his feelings. I know him well enough to know that they’re there.”

You startle awake. flying into a sitting position to find that you’re alone in Josh’s bed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you guess it's late morning with how bright the sunlight is shining through the blinds. Worried that you’ve slept too long, you scramble across the mattress to snatch your phone from the nightstand.

10:37 

You hear voices coming from the kitchen, and even through the bedroom walls, you can tell it’s Josh and Kai. You slide off the bed, shuffle over to the dresser, and pull out a band tee from the drawer before stepping out of the room. 

“So you like this girl, huh?” Kai asks. It makes you stop in the middle of the hallway and your heart begins to race. You inch closer, stepping quietly enough not to be detected.

You hear Josh let out a slow, deep sigh, “Yeah. I like her a lot.” 

Your chest cinches a few notches tighter, sending your heart up into the back of your throat. A part of you feels terrible for eavesdropping on a private conversation, but your curiosity keeps your feet planted on the floor. 

“Are you just fucking or is there more to this one?”

You stop breathing, bracing yourself for his honesty. Despite what Kai had told you hours ago, you had your doubts about his true feelings.

“I like to think there’s more than just sex. Fuck, Kai. I think about her all the time. I just want to spend every moment of the day with her. Every day. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I’ve never been this crazy about anyone before…which fucking scares the shit out of me. And you know me.” 

“I do. And she’s got feelings for Jake?”

“Probably. Every time I feel like we’re getting a little bit closer, she pulls away and runs to him.”

There’s a pause before Kai hums to himself. “Do you think he has feelings for her?”

“Maybe? It’s hard to tell with him sometimes.”

“Has he dated anyone since her?”

“Roxi?” He pauses for a few seconds. “No, not really. He’s slept with a few, but none of them hung around long enough for me to remember their name.”

“He’s really still holding a grudge about that, huh?”

“Have you met Jake?” Josh snorts a laugh.

“Do you think he’s still hung up on her?”

“For a moment I thought he wasn’t, but sometimes I just don’t know. They were together for five years, Kai.”

Five years. 

“Fuck.” Kai seems to share the same thought. “She certainly didn’t act like it.”

Josh lets out a light chuckle, sounding like he’s moving farther away from you. “She never did. But hey, I’m just glad she’s finally out of his life. Last I heard she was living with some tattoo artist guy in Vegas.”

“…You ever?”

“Fuck no! Are you kidding me?!” Josh scoffs, nearly wrenching at the thought. “Besides the obvious fact that he would’ve murdered me in my sleep, there was a higher chance of her Lorena Bobbit’ing my ass than me having any semblance of a good time.”

Kai laughs, causing his cackle to echo throughout the house. “The crazier the better in my opinion.”

“You would say that.” Josh’s voice and his footsteps grow distant from you, making it sound as though he’s making his way toward the kitchen.

“Sounds like you got quite the mess to sort through.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just worried about it. I did tell her that I would be okay if she wanted to only be with him though.”

Hearing him say those feelings out loud to Kai brings you back to that moment in the car and the guilt you felt, how you both reassured each other the best way you knew how. 

“Do you honestly believe that you would?”

“I’d have to be, right?” The disappointment and sadness in his voice is palpable. 

“Do you think she would do that?”

“I don’t know…” You fight the urge to rush in there and reassure him in some way. 

Kai sighs, pausing for a minute before speaking, “I don’t know about what’s going with Jake, but she fucking adores you, Josh. It’s not much coming from me because I don’t get all lovey-dovey and shit, but I see it. The way she looks at you, she cares about you. That much I do know.”

“Fuck. I dunno…maybe you’re right. I get the feeling she’s holding back something from me…” he trails off. “What about you? Do you adore me, Kai?”

“I always will, pretty boy. If there’s a day that you’re single and I’m finally ready to settle down, You’ll be the one I’ll call.”

“Oh, I’m so flattered,” Josh giggles.

“Shut the fuck up. You know I’m a mess and a walking red flag. You’re too good for me anyway.”

“What can I say? I’m drawn to toxic like a moth to a flame, baby.”

“No, that’s your fucking twin.”

You decide it’s time to make your presence known and walk into the living room. They are both leaning against opposite ends of the kitchen counter when Josh hears you enter. You make your way across the room, catching a knowing look from Kai — one that you’ll choose to ignore for now. Josh perks up, giving you that beaming smile of his. “Hey, baby. How’d you sleep?”

Once you’re close enough, he sets his coffee mug down and pulls you in for a warm embrace, an action so domestic it makes your heart flutter. Knowing what you heard moments ago threatens to overwhelm you, but you try your best to keep yourself calm. You hold his slender waist, giving him a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Pretty good. Didn’t like waking up in an empty bed.”

He frowns as he plays with the hem of your shirt, but it spreads into a grin when he sees that it’s one of his own. Looking down at you with a playful glint in his eye, he bites down at his bottom lip while his hands roam freely up and down your body. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you, and I thought you should sleep in a little longer.” 

He then reaches over and grabs his mug to take another sip. Curious, you tip it down to see what’s inside, asking, “What’s this?”

“Oh! Kai was able to figure out how to use Jake’s ridiculously expensive espresso machine,” he explains, gesturing with the tip of his chin to Kai behind you. “I know we aren’t fancy baristas like you.”

You turn to look at Kai, who is taking a massive bite out of the center of a piece of buttered toast. “You made this?”

Kai nods with a confident smirk, brushing the crumbs off his fingers, and mumbling, “I did. Want one?”

“I would love one,” you reply, pleasantly surprised. While Josh keeps his hands busy massaging your shoulders, you watch Kai start setting up the machine for your shot of espresso. “Don’t you have to be at the shop this morning?”

Josh lets out a whimsical sigh, but it’s obvious he’s less than thrilled. “Sam opened for me, but I gotta head over there at noon.”

The deadbolt of the front door unlocks, throwing you all into a standstill of silence as the ominous clack of boot heels hits the wooden floor. Your eyes glue themselves to the threshold of the living room, waiting for him to step into view. 

Anxiety and guilt send your heart racing into a panic state. You haven’t had the time to pull together a decent explanation to defend yourself. It doesn’t matter, because the second you see him, the words you could’ve prepared would’ve vanished. 

Jake pauses in the entryway, scanning over the scene of the three of you before him. His eyes are covered with a pair of dark wire-rimmed sunglasses that hide his expression from you. You brace for an explosive reaction and fight back the nausea bubbling in the pit of your belly. 

If there were a record playing, the needle would be sent across the vinyl with a theatrical scratch. 

You watch the tightly wound muscles of his jaw clench as he sets his guitar case down on the floor with a heavy thud. His movements are slow, but calculated. There’s no doubt he’s angry. He’s practically seething with disgust. You look over to Josh, desperate for a sense of direction but the worry in his eyes gives you little to no hope.

He removes his sunglasses and hooks them over the collar of his t-shirt, giving you the sight of the tired circles framing his hollow eyes.  “You know, Kai… I thought I made it extremely clear to you that I never wanted to see your face ever again. And yet, you come into my place of business anyway. Which, I let slide because I love my brother. But the fact you’re in my fucking house—“

“I’m not one to turn down an invitation,” Kai interrupts, baiting Jake.   

“Get. Out,” Jake snarls through gritted teeth, letting himself slip. The tension in the room feels like a disease, infecting every inch of your body with each passing second. 

Kai lets the silence stale as his eyes pan across the room, locking on yours for a few seconds longer than they should. “Well, everyone, it seems as though I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he sings with a sleepy lilt, setting down his half-empty coffee mug on the counter. He steps toward Josh at a leisurely pace, pulling him in for an affectionate and gentle kiss to mumble against his lips, “It’s been wonderful. I hope to do this again sometime.” Josh relaxes enough to smile from the touch, but the stiffness returns as soon as Kai separates from him. 

Kai makes his way around the island and leans down to you to place a dramatic kiss on your lips. Knowing that Jake is watching, he makes sure to slip his tongue enough for him to see. He breaks away to breathe you in, humming in satisfaction, “It’s been a true pleasure, kitten.” 

“That’s enough.” Jake’s voice cuts through the air with a razor’s edge. 

Your face flames hot with a feeling of shame. There’s no denying what happened. There’s no backtracking the events of last night in an attempt to smooth things over. Not only has Jake caught you, but you’re rubbing the very idea of it in his face. Keeping his jade-colored eyes locked on yours, Kai straightens upright. The shit-eating grin and the wink he gives you is a tell-all. He’s not intimidated by him in the slightest — it’s all just another play of the game. With the cocky smile fixed on Kai’s face, he turns to face him. “Don’t tell me you’re threatened by me, Jake.”

Exhibiting an unwavering ego, Kai takes confident strides in the face of danger. There’s an unbridled rage tearing at the weakened seams of Jake’s composure, and you’re within seconds of witnessing it. Kai steps between him and the wall, towering over him by those crucial inches. You’ve seen this type of display before — that standoff between Josh and Jake in the tiny office. However, this feels very different to you. This goes beyond petty sibling rivalry. The glimmer in Kai’s eyes tells you he’s nowhere close to laying down and showing his belly for mercy. 

He should just pass by Jake and walk right out that door, but he doesn’t. He gives in to the temptation and decides to toss out a final taunt. “She was a real treat last night.” The way the words slip so effortlessly from his quick-witted tongue leaves a bitterness on yours. “Which isn’t a surprise. I’ve always admired your taste. Although I will say I like her a lot better than Roxi.”

Jake suddenly lunges forward with the same ferocity of a rabid dog, grabbing fistfuls of Kai’s button-up. “Get her name out of your fucking mouth, you piece of shit!” 

Being arguably stronger, roughly forty pounds heavier, and a couple of inches taller, Kai reacts quicker than your brain can process, making it seem as though it’s a frenzied blur of motion. He shoves Jake backward by the scruff of his shirt, throwing him into the opposite wall with enough force to make the picture frames rattle from the impact. Jake’s pinned, having all the air knocked from his chest. As calm as Kai seems to be, you’re not ignorant of the pacified aggression lying just beneath the surface. Through Jake’s grunts, he makes his threat clear as they stare into the darkest corners of their minds through each other’s eyes, “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Jake.” 

Afraid of the worst, your head snaps back to Josh, silently begging him to do anything to diffuse the situation. Fear has cast over his features as well, leaving you both frozen in place to watch it all unfold in front of your very eyes.  

“Get the fuck off me!” Jake spits, ripping Kai’s hands from his clothing with a frustrated throw of his arms. 

There’s so much more that he wishes to do. He wants to tear Kai to shreds — to throw a well-deserved punch into that chiseled jaw, to break that perfect nose, to leave him bloody and bruised, but he knows that the odds are stacked against him. It’s an unfair fight with far more disadvantages than he wants to admit. This is a match between a man with everything to lose and one wagering absolutely nothing.

While Jake blows the violent plumes of his anger through flared nostrils, Kai irons out the new wrinkles of his shirt with an unbothered pass of his palm. “And with that, I bid you all adieu.” Aware that the stakes are rising by the second, he doesn’t wait for the responses that are stuck in your throat and goes to leave. Before he takes the final step out of the door, he looks over his shoulder. “And Jake? That temper is going to get the best of you one day. Don’t let it get away from you.��� 

Jake throws up a middle finger, a gesture to which Kai responds with a dry, humorless laugh before closing the door behind him. Josh hears the door latch into place and steps toward his brother, calling out to him, “Jake—“ 

“Fuck you!” The words shot out of his mouth as a verbal strike — meant only to hurt. He hasn’t bothered looking at you until now, but when those eyes find you, you deeply wish they hadn’t. He glares at you with black, wounded eyes basted in pure, undiluted disappointment. You hate that look. It makes you feel sick and riddled with shame.

He picks up his guitar case, breaking eye contact to shoot Josh a hateful look of his own. He jabs a finger in the air, pointing directly at his brother. “You’re a fucking prick.” 

Josh recoils but doesn’t say another word in defense. Pissed and not wanting to stay another second, Jake takes off down the hall toward the bedrooms. 

You leap off the barstool, sending the chair skidding across the floor as you call after him, “Jake, wait! Let me explain!” 

“Jake!” You bolt down the hall after him, but he doesn’t stop or at the very least, slow down for you. He doesn’t even bother glancing back at you to give you a hateful look. The only thing you’re given in return for your efforts is a slammed door in your face.  You can only stare at the painted wood, contemplating whether you should knock or barge right in. 

He’s shut you out — figuratively and literally. 

Deflated, you walk aimlessly into Josh’s bedroom. Your feet are working separately from your mind, carrying you to his bed. You crawl on top of the disheveled duvet and breathe in the dissipating scent of Kai’s cologne. All you want to do is disappear, to take away the feeling that’s closing the walls of your chest. 

You curl into the fetal position, making yourself as small as you possibly can. Lying there, you have a hard time telling how much time has passed when you hear Josh walking into the room and feel his weight shift across the mattress. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, carefully reaching out to touch the back of your arm to comfort you. Feeling as though you don’t deserve it, you flinch from the gentle contact, shrugging his hand from your body. He sighs, “I know you’re mad at me, baby.” He then clears his throat, but the defeat coats every word like a sickness, “You have every right to be, honestly. I…I probably wasn’t in my right frame of mind last night. I mean don’t regret it… but shit… I wasn’t thinking that clearly either. I saw how the two of you were at the bar and saw the chance. I was so blinded by this fantasy I’ve had to sleep with him that I forgot about your feelings in all this. I didn’t care about Jake either. I knew he would be pissed but I didn’t care.” You can hear how painful the last sentence is to his heart.  “I’m sorry I pulled you into this.”

You stare at the collection of vintage posters on his wall, letting the apology brew in your thoughts as you study the images. You aren’t angry with him. You never were, but you don’t have the energy to correct him on it now. You can’t even say you regret what happened with Kai, but you need answers to the questions assaulting the forefront of your mind. “Tell me about Roxi.”

Some time passes before he cuts through the looming silence. “Ah…shit. I don’t even know where to start with that,” he begins as he stretches across the bed next to you. You listen quietly, keeping your back to him. “I guess they met when they were about twenty or twenty-one. We were all fresh out of our apprenticeships when he started tattooing her and didn’t take long for them to become a thing. A will-they-won’t-they, on-again-off-again thing for five fucking years, babe. One minute they would be the sweetest lovebirds in front of you and then the next they were going at each other’s throats. I don’t want to say it was just her that was the problem, but she put him through a lot of bullshit for a long time.”

You can’t ignore the hints of anger in his voice. “He was in love with her?”

“In love with the idea of her. A version of her that will never, ever exist. I don’t care what anyone says to me about it. That’s what I believe. For years he chased after what he thought she could be. He was so convinced she was ‘the one’  that he bought a ring and everything. But there was no telling him that. It was one of those things you just had to let play out and let him learn for himself.”

You’re not sure why the truth he’s been hiding from you hurts, but it does. You lay silent, repeating Josh’s words over in your mind. 

Josh isn’t oblivious to your broken breathing pattern — how hard you’re holding back from crying. He risks another touch by brushing his fingertips across your back. “Roxi has been out of the picture for a while, baby. Please don’t hold that weight on your shoulders. His issues with Kai don’t have anything to do with you and I, okay?”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He stammers over his words, “I-I don’t know…I was selfish about you. I guess that it was easier to stuff his skeletons back in the closet. Maybe I thought it would be bad to put his business out there like that. Or maybe I thought she was in the past and it didn’t matter anymore.”

“He doesn’t even want to talk to me,” your voice croaks, broken from our hitched breath. “You saw it. He didn’t even want to look at me, Josh.”

He sighs, turning to nuzzle into the nape of your neck while wrapping a loose arm around your midsection.  “He’ll come around, babe. He always does.” It’s hard to believe him, especially from what you heard about Jake holding grudges, 

You feel the vibration of his phone against your ass. He lets out an annoyed groan, shifting to dig it out from his front pocket. “Shit! Today of all fucking days…” His sigh might as well have the weight of the world. He rests his forehead against your back, mumbling into the worn cotton, “I gotta head to the shop. Would you like to stay here or do you want me to drive you home?”

The thought of packing your stuff and leaving to be home by yourself nearly crushes you. You feel embarrassed, but ask anyway, “Is it okay if I just lay here for a while?”

“Of course, baby,” he coos reassuringly, placing a kiss on your cheek before crawling off the bed. He knows you need the space, so he doesn’t push any more affection onto you yet. “Text or call if you need anything.”

“I will.”

It’s been hours since Josh left for work, and you spent most of that time rotting in the duvet cocoon feeling sorry for yourself. There was a nap or two, but nothing to make you feel well-rested in any sense. If anything, you feel more exhausted, but with dusk finally falling, you’re forced to crack open the door. You hear the ominous sounds of someone shuffling around in the kitchen. The hallway is cast in darkness, but you can see that Jake’s door is open. 

You’re going to have to face him. 

There’s no avoiding it. 

It looks as though he’s cooking dinner, prepping the pile of vegetables stacked on the center of the counter. He’s chopping away but doesn’t lift his head as you step closer. You know he hears you, so you stand on the opposite side of the island and wait for him to finally acknowledge you. 

Even though he’s changed his clothing to a different band t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, he’s never seemed more uncomfortable. His long hair is tied back in a messy, low bun with loose strands falling around his face. You make the first move to break the silence. “Are we gonna talk or what?”

The muscles of his jaw tighten, but he keeps his lips sealed together in an expressionless, thin line. “Jake, come on,” you prod, your impatience growing with every second he chooses to ignore you. He continues chopping, keeping his focus on the large onion pressed beneath his fingertips. His behavior ignites a flash of anger inside you like a struck match. “Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment right now?!” Nothing. Just the repetitive sound of the blade thumping against the cutting board. “Can you just tell me you’re mad?”

Your incessant pestering distracts him, causing the butcher knife to escape from his stranglehold grasp, cutting his finger which makes him drop the blade and hiss a curse under his breath. Instead of breaking away to tend to the fresh wound, he goes back to chopping the rest of the onion. 

“You’re bleeding, Jake,” you mutter, thinking that he would’ve noticed the trail of blood running down the side of his palm and smearing across the vegetable. “Can you please just look at me? Talk to me.” You don’t care that you’re unwelcome. You won’t leave until you get a reaction out of him. “Just fucking say something. Anything. I know you’re pissed at me. Just tell me I’m fucking horrible. Tell me you hate me. Just say something.”

The fraying line that’s been keeping his composure finally snaps within seconds. He snatches the glass bowl full of diced onions sitting on the counter and hurls it into the wall to your right, screaming with rage as it flies through the air. 

The small bowl shatters on impact, sending an explosion of glass shards and tiny bits of onion everywhere. 

“FUCK!” 

You recoil from the sound and the rise of his voice, staring blankly at the scene before you after being stunned into silence. This is the first real, raw emotion he’s shown you, and you’re not sure what to do with it. Several seconds of silence pass before you can finally breathe, “What the fuck is the matter with you?!”

He’s gripping the edge of the countertop with his head hung low, mumbling, “You just don’t understand.” 

“What don’t I understand?”

He reaches for the crumpled tea towel beside him and wraps it around his bleeding finger, muttering in a low, calculated voice, “Kai is a fucking drifter and a player.” He clenches his fist around the soiled cloth, causing his knuckles to turn a ghostly shade of white. “He goes from one person to the next whenever he gets bored with them. It’s always been about an easy fuck for him. He fucking used you like he does everyone else. Don’t you see that?! He doesn’t care about you, dove.” The muscles tighten over his jaw while his darkened, sunken eyes rise to meet yours, giving you an icy scowl that threatens to make the blood run cold in your veins. “Never has, never will.”

Defensiveness comes as a visceral reaction for you. He’s dead wrong, and the last thing you’re about to do is let him barrel over you to prove it. You firmly stand your ground, spitting back harsh words of your own, “Sounds like someone I know.”

“Excuse me?!” He scoffs, chucking the ruined towel off to the side. That one hurt, and the pained look on his face is one you won’t forget. 

You dig your heels in, throwing your arms in frustration as you double down, “Oh, so you can fuck all the girls you want but it’s suddenly a problem when I sleep with Kai?!”

Your thrown-in confession causes him to flinch, but confusion becomes layered deep within his anger. “Other girls? What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“The girls you’re texting, Jake! The women that pop up on your phone all the time!” You scream out, pointing to his phone resting on the counter. “Don’t think I don’t see it.”

“Wait a minute…Are you talking about my clients?!” He snaps, fraying apart while staying oblivious to the droplets of blood that are about to drip onto the floor. 

“Oh please, Jake,” you huff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest, which brings his attention to the fact you’re wearing Josh’s shirt. “Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot. I may be naive, but I’m not that fucking stupid.”

He laughs and inhales deeply, reigning in the anger enough to say the following words slowly, as if to spoon-feed you what he’s about to say, “I’m not fucking anyone else. I don’t know how else to explain that to you.”

A shred of doubt reveals itself. You want to trust him but your wounded pride forces you to mask it by deflecting. “And you really expect me to believe that? I saw how you flirted with those girls in the front row last night.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You had your tongue shoved halfway down Kai’s throat!”

“What does it matter?! You acted like I didn’t exist, Jake! That I was a nobody to you. Now you’re trying to pin some kind of blame on me for what happened in the past between you and him. But guess what? I’m not Roxi.”

That flipped a massive switch, and for a split second, you almost regret letting her name leave your mouth. You’ll admit that it was immature of you, but you don’t care. The anger that's been kept at a steady simmer between you boils over into a seething rage, popping and bursting onto anything that stands too close. He points a threatening finger at you, spitting the venom-dipped words, “Don’t you fucking dare act like you know anything about her, because you don’t. But you’re right. I expected you to have higher standards for who you fucked than she did.”

“Well, I slept with you, didn’t I?!” You sneer, throwing his insult back in his face. He becomes unrecognizable from the tears glazing over your tired eyes, pooling at your lashes before they have the chance to spill over. You’re just out to hurt each other now, throwing verbal punches to see who can cause the most damage.

It seems as though you got the last shot in because he doesn’t strike out at you again. There are no smartass remarks for him to come back with. His eyes break away from yours, and his gaze falls to the bloody cutting board resting on the counter in front of him. “This was a fucking mistake.”

Moments ago you were shouting at each other from across the granite countertop, but now the house is deathly quiet after hearing those five words, so quiet that the air becomes too thick for you to breathe. The way his voice cracked ever so slightly makes your heart plummet into the pit of your stomach. You wait, hoping that it’s not what you think it means, or perhaps you’re just anticipating the worst. 

Your voice catches from trying not to cry, “What’s a mistake?” 

This feeling terrifies you. You’ve been betting against the odds this whole time, risking it all on the chance you wouldn’t care for him this way. You’ve been ignorant, determined to convince yourself that you weren’t falling in love. 

Love. 

How could you fall in love with both of them like this?

This should be a euphoric moment for anyone— something to be celebrated and cherished. Most would be confessing it under far different circumstances, instead you’re staring at that same man with hurt welling in his eyes. You run away from it like a coward, forced to bury it deep and shove it away before it has a chance to break you. 

His shoulders fall as if all life has been drained from him. He waves an outstretched hand to nothing in particular, but there’s no life in the movement. “This.”

Uncomfortable silence stales between you, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. You see his brother’s softness in his face — a vulnerability he makes sure to keep from you. The look paired with the answer he gave crushes you. There’s a real possibility that you could lose him now that you’ve done an expert job of pushing him away. The need to be closer compels you to take a step, and you start to circle your way around the island.  “So this is it then?” 

Your hand follows the hard edge of the counter as you round the corner, sliding across its smooth surface. You grip onto it, using it as the only thing to ground yourself until you’re standing beside him. He doesn’t say a single word, move an inch, or even make an attempt to look at you. If anything, he stiffens from your presence. Feeling like he’s giving up on you, you challenge in a low voice,  “Are you really done because you got jealous?”

“I’m not fucking jealous!” he shouts, slamming his hand down onto the counter through the resurgence of that rage.  You jump back hearing the cutting board rattle beneath his palm, but it doesn’t scare you away. He’s just as scared, breathing heavily, watching you reach a hand out from the corner of his eye. He flinches when you touch his arm, but he doesn’t move away from you. In a weaker, pained voice, he says, “Do you actually think I don’t care about you?” 

“Jake?” You whisper meekly, just barely grazing over his splayed fingers out of sheer desperation to connect with him in some way. Your heart aches when you see him pull his hand from yours, leaving behind a red stain across the wooden board. “Jake, please.”

You step into the heat and scent of his body, bringing yourself inches from him. Your broken pleas are the only thing you can offer, begging your way in despite his rejection to keep you out. He warns with your name pushing past his lips through a tired sigh.

You ignore it. With only a breath between you, you nudge your nose into the side of his neck, brushing your lips across the warm skin so faintly he might question if the feeling is real. He shudders through a harsh swallow but doesn’t push you away. You abandon your morals, kissing his throat with much more intent. A soft groan echoes in his throat as your tongue flicks across him and in the blink of an eye, he snatches your wrist, pulling you back. 

You suck in a sharp breath, startled by his movements. While the hold he has on you isn’t painful, it’s firm, keeping you pinned between him and the island’s granite edge. 

His other hand finds the nape of your neck, and he knots his fingers in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. You watch, dumbfounded as his bloodshot eyes scan over your face until they lock with yours. You accept your vulnerable state, submitting to him without a single word of protest. 

“Oh, dove,” he hums, clicking his tongue. “Look at you…whimpering and crawling your way back to me like this. Do I need to lick your wounds for you, too?” He mocks in that gravelly voice of his, sending the words across your lips, each one bathed in whiskey as if he had recently taken a sip. You know he’s far from drunk, remembering the half-filled rocks glass sitting on the counter. “It’s pathetic. Did he even make you cum? Or did he need Josh’s help for that too?” 

It should piss you off—the way he’s speaking to you like this. If you had any sense or dignity left, you would shove him off you and storm back into Josh’s room to gather your belongings.

Knowing you don’t have a response, he continues, “My sweet, beautiful dove. Is that name even fitting for you anymore? Or are you a cuckoo — tricking your way into my nest pretending to be something you’re not? I trusted you, yet here I am with betrayal finding me once again.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak out, your strength cracking beneath him.  

“Why should I let you back in? Do you think you’ve earned my forgiveness?” He hisses, his hurt seeping into the hushed sound. You don’t blame him. You’re not even confident that you could convince yourself that you deserve it. Left speechless, you’re only able to look up at him, glassy and doe-eyed with your tears falling freely down your flushed cheeks. 

The sight of you changes something within him. He curses to himself before his lips collide with yours, angry and needy. He ruts himself against you, letting go of your wrist to brace himself on the counter. The kiss is heady— desperate with hunger as if he has been starving for this. He pants your name in a bated breath, confessing, “Don’t you see my weakness for you?”

It makes you throb to hear it. You need him. God, you need him and you don’t care what it’ll cost you. He devours you, licking into your mouth to consume everything he can. The smokey taste of him, the feeling of his dominant tongue running along yours, the nipping of his teeth on your lips. With your hand free, you search across his thigh, quickly finding his erection through his sweatpants. The thin fabric does nothing to hide it, letting you feel how hard he truly is. 

You stroke your fingers over his covered length, but he stops you from dipping them beneath his waistband. Breaking away from the kiss, he warns, “I’m not going to be gentle with you.” 

“I don’t care,” you whine into his mouth, fighting the grasp he has around your arm.

He squeezes your hand, emphasizing again, “I’m serious. I’m not going to be careful, dove.” 

You glare into his eyes, staying in his darkened irises — perhaps to call his bluff or maybe to bait him further. “I want this.” 

“Fine,” he huffs, releasing your hand. He then steps back, flipping you around to face away from him. Before you can react, he places a hand flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down until your chest is flush with the counter’s surface. You shiver the chill of the stone against your hardening nipples through your shirt. “Is this really what you want?”

You swallow to wet your tongue, answering, “Yes.”

Without another warning, his open palm connects with your ass, cracking against the flesh with a powerful slap. You cry out as the sting radiates, prickling the skin with its heat. 

“I turn my back for one second and I catch you giving your perfect pussy away to him.” His fingertips skim across the raised mark he left, tracing along the edge of your panties before hooking the band and pulling the cotton down your legs. You hear the threads of it rip on the way to the floor, then feel his fingers ghost over your bare cunt. He spits, and you imagine how it looks as he starts stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. “Don’t forget your color.” 

There’s no foreplay to get you ready for him this time because he buries himself inside you in a single powerful thrust. The moan that heaves from your chest is guttural. You welcome the pain of him stretching you out so quickly, groaning as it melts into pleasure when he slowly withdraws. 

He doesn’t allow you to bask in it for long, snapping his hips forward to ram himself back into your cervix. His hand grips around your waist, balling the material of your shirt between his fingers. 

He lives up to his word, fucking you harder than he ever has before. There’s no doubt that this is fueled by his anger or possibly a newfound hatred for you, but you take it all in, biting back your muffled cries. While your teeth create a row of indents into the flesh of your forearm, his fingers dig deeper into your hip. He doesn’t talk you through like he has in the past, giving you the sounds of his ragged breathing instead.

The rhythm he uses is unrelenting. The power behind his thrusts is unprecedented. He’s rough with you, just as he promised, pressing you against the cold, hard granite, left with nothing to brace yourself. You’re lost in it, overwhelmed by the fact that this might be the very last time you have him. 

Fearful that you won’t be able to handle much more, you whimper out, “Jake.”

He suddenly freezes at the sound of his name and takes a minute for the both of you to catch your breath before pulling completely out of you. You panic thinking that it might be over, and plead over your shoulder. “No, don’t stop!”

“Color?”

“Green.”

He waits for a second before spinning you around to lift you onto the countertop. He slips himself back in, and after seeing how much you’ve been crying, tucks the hair stuck to your temple behind your ear and cradles your face to kiss you. 

“Close your eyes for me,” he instructs calmly, effectively shushing you. You clutch onto his shoulders and wrap your legs about the small of his back, locking him inside you as you allow your eyelids to flutter closed. He holds you still, sending the warmth of his fluttering breath until his tongue passes over your cheek in a delicate flick. He licks up the trails of tears across your skin, cleaning the dried salt as he makes his way to your soaked lashes. He’s breaking you apart only to put you back together again. 

A choked sob escapes you, “I’m so sorry, Jake.” 

He groans in response to the sounds of your weeping, biting at your swelling cheek before burying his face in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in, and finds a new pace, gliding into you with a controlled ease. 

“Say it again,” he growls against your ear with a deliberate thrust. “I need to hear you beg for it.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine, but absentmindedly. You’re more than distracted, using most of your focus on the way his cock hits your g-spot from the change in angle. 

“Sorry for what?”

“For Kai,” you blurt out. 

His hand wraps around your throat, tight enough to grab your attention and redirect it to him. “Use your words.” 

You look at him, blinking away the cloudiness from your vision to see the sweat glistening across his forehead and his heavy-lidded eyes covering his blown pupils. You can be upset at him later, but for now, you give him the apology he wants. “I’m sorry for fucking Kai.” 

He brings his lips to the shell of your ear — his exhale blowing from his nostrils like air from a pair of bellows. “I thought I told you I don’t fucking share, dove,” he scolds with the words searing off his tongue. “I let you fuck Josh.” A chill runs down your spine because he knows your feelings for his twin. Before tonight, this was all a role, an act that he knew turned you on. That line between it and the real him is becoming more and more blurred, with the phrase ringing in your ears, echoing around in your mind. “Don’t forget that.”

“Jake—“

He interrupts by swiping his wet fingers across your lips, painting them in a sticky, crimson smear. You lick across them, but there’s no denying the metallic taste of blood on your tongue. “Your pussy is mine,” he snarls, letting his jealousy possess him entirely. 

He pulls away slightly and guides you to lean back, creating space between you. You’re able to see the soiled state of Josh’s white t-shirt that you’re wearing. It’s stained in a spattering of bloody prints and wrinkled beyond recognition. You can’t dwell on it for long because Jake’s pace has quickened again, and when he realizes you haven’t responded, he snaps, “Say it!”

There’s ferality in his gaze, and you’re running off the adrenaline of it all — blinded by poisonous lust and raw emotion. “It’s yours.”

“Now touch it. Make yourself cum for me.”

You do as you’re told without hesitation, bringing your shaky fingers to your clit. He holds onto your hips as his line of sight floats from your face down to your pussy, watching you pleasure yourself while he continues to fuck you. 

You notice that his hair has fallen free from the hair elastic, draping most of his face in the curtain of chestnut locks. He’s held onto full control until this point, but now even he can’t hold back, grunting, “Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

Making eye contact with you, he tips his head and spits aggressively onto your swollen cunt — giving you an image you will never forget. He doesn’t even have to tell you what to do next. With slick fingers, you slip them effortlessly across yourself, using your favorite technique. 

You’re close. 

He’s beginning to falter as well, revealing to you that he’s not going to last much longer. You race to the finish line, frantic in your movements to make yourself orgasm. Fighting the temptation to cum, his strokes are a combination of deep and shallow, making sure to hit every spot inside you perfectly. He’s learned you well enough, after all. 

“Be a good girl and make it up to me,” he pants desperately.

It doesn’t take much more for you to fall apart. Within seconds, it all comes crashing down around you. You claw for him to be as close as possible, tightening your shaky legs around his waist to keep him inside you. What would normally be euphoric moans sung into the air, are broken cries and muffled curses. It might’ve been the release you were craving the most, but not the one you needed. 

Because you know when the dust begins to settle, you’ll be left with the truth of it all — those feelings without the sex to disguise them. 

TAGLIST:

@gretavanbitches @dannyandthekiszkas @asparrowofthedawn96 @ageofnations @garbagevanfleet @pennylanefics @alexxavicry @gvfficrecs @jakeyboiiiiiii @doodle417 @richjaaasss @pr41sethemoon @gretavanflowerpowerrr @joshskittytickler @tripthelightfatality @maddie-van-fleet @sarakay-gvf @josiee-gvf @milkgemini @sammiejane22 @gretavanbear @capturethechaos @welllauragvf @averagemisfit03 @myownparadise96 @givemeyourtots2 @gretavangroove @objectsinspvce @myownparadise96 @feilores @josh-iamyour-mama @givemeyourtots2 @joshkiszkasbigtoe @mydarlingdanny @shutupdevvie @twinszka @busybeingtrash @carlybubs @demonrat444 @high-fidelity1 @jake-kiszkas-smirk @sunandthemoontwinflames @klarxtr @sacredthethreadgvf @gracev0609

[ashdreams2023]

Hiii, i was wondering if you could do some headcanons about Loki x femenine reader, who have a child together, i just like the thought of them being a family. I love your writting also <3

Of course!

Loki x fem reader with a child

The very few months we’re his favorite, he loved watching his baby sleep and warp it’s little hand around his finger

Was very attentive to you both, brushed your hair for you and took the child for you to shower

Buys tons and tons of tiny socks because he doesn’t know self control

When the baby starts teething he lets it sucking on his fingers because they feel cool and nice

Lots of group naps because when the baby sleeps everyone else does

You and Loki go on walks together every weekend, Loki wears those body strap baby carriers

You braid Loki’s hair because the baby always tries to pull on his hair

Will tease you about the baby say dada before mama

He will cry on the first day of kindergarten more than your child and you

"You know they’re coming back right?"

"That’s still my baby!"

Takes you on nice dates every once in a while if there is someone to baby, you trust

Thor is the worst because he keeps bringing things a child should not play with

"Loki he can’t have a sword!"

"You think I don’t know that?!"

Builds pillow forts and then magics them up to look realistic

The baby mimics your moves and goes running to Loki when he gets home to show him what you did all day

When the baby is sick he’s so stressed it’s not even funny, he can’t sleep or eat until the little one gets better

Floats the baby around just to mess with you and give you mini heart attacks

"Are you trying to kill me?!"

"Nah we die together"

When you get dressed up both him and the baby are just mesmerized

They are your number one fans

"Mommy looks beautiful doesn’t she?"

Loki’s favorite thing is when you and the baby lay on top of him and nap, it’s just comfortable weight

Halloween is crazy because you want to try every cute little outfit on your baby and Loki takes lots of photos

Overall Loki loves his little family, and appreciates every small thing about you both

[ruershrimo]

i.yuji x reader | konbini in the night

there are breadcrumbs on your face. you wipe them off and throw the packaging away in the dustbin next to his bike, the darkness of the night contrasting the bright lights of the convenience store next to you.

“look!” he calls out, the light in his pink hair fading as he exits the store, “I got one of these strawberry sandwiches I keep seeing online lately.”

the glint in his eyes is like powdered sugar on a perfect cake, or fireworks in a starry sky. sweet, bright, unforgettable— a treasure in people’s memories. the convenience store had been like an oasis in the dim, merely lamp-lit streets, and the two of you decided to dash straight into it before getting back to jujutsu high’s dormitories.

“you sure you don’t want anything else?” he asks, “the cashier lady’s actually really nice. I can give you some of these sandwiches, too.”

you’re sure it’s because he’s nicer. that he walked up to the counter, with that adorable face and kind smile, and the lady just treated him the same. like how sunflowers shined at and turned their heads to the sun.

“no, I’m fine.”

“hm…” he goes, “okay. but you should eat more, you know?”

“pft— yuuji, I’ll be just fine. don’t worry, okay?”

“okay,” he says with a pout.

he gets on the bicycle, and reflexively, you sit behind him. (you really have been pavlov’ed into getting on the passenger’s seat every time he’s on his bike, huh?) he places the sandwiches next to where you’ve placed your own water bottle in the basket, and you lean forward so that your face rests against his back while your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. the hard pillion seat feels as comfortable as a mattress on display in a department store.

the ride back to the dorms— back home, actually— starts mostly mundanely, the wind humming softly against your face, the night dissolving your consciousness in slumber. you feel just that one bit out of control of yourself, and your head feels light to the point where you don’t want to think about anything at all.

“...let’s get married, yuuji,” you whisper under the twinkling stars, your spirit warmly embracing his while you press your chest more against his back. normally you’d be too scared to, especially with your breath still smelling like sandwiches: all too ridden with your own inhibitions— but this night in particular is almost a perfect one, so for once you don’t mind.

there is so much pain in the world but not here. not behind him and definitely not on the seat behind his back. the world ahead is uncertain but you’d be willing to face it with him head-on as long as he’s fine with it.

“huh? married?” he doesn’t know if the red on his cheeks is obvious but he thinks that even if it is you wouldn’t see it under the night sky. you can tell that under his large brown eyes there’s the faintest of blushes— you don’t need eyes to see that.

you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. he smells like some kind of 3-in-1 shampoo-conditioner-shower gel thing, but you guess that’s a testament to how much you love him since you don’t mind it at all. it’s wonderfully endearing to you now: the plain, minty scent that clings to his trademark ref hoodie, how the ends of his spiky pink hair poke and tickle at your face, how you can hear his low, slow breathing like a soft melody soothing you to sleep.

you’re not going to think that you’ll lose him someday. if you did then you wouldn’t be able to live. but if you didn’t promise this now— now when you’ve still only met him three months ago— and lost him, you’d spend your whole life grieving over him.

“mhm,” you reply, “let’s get married. I want to stay with you for a lifetime.”

and if this isn’t love you don’t know what love is anymore.

he looks back for a moment, and smiles, showing his teeth off like a little kid.

“sure! I wanna have that too.” he turns back. “I mean, I wanna make you happy. really happy. every day. and you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping me happy because I’d be the happiest guy in the world as long as you were. and, and—” —he lets one of his hands go from the bicycle handles; you open your eyes as he starts making gestures with it as accompaniments to his words— “— we’ll have this nice house or something, and it can be whatever you like. we can think of something together. and we won’t have much but it’ll be enough, I think.”

“mhm,” you smile. you bet he can feel the imprints of your lips on his skin, because it lays the slightest of gooseflesh on the back of his neck, the hairs there rising a little. as gross as it sounds you don’t worry if it’s chapped, and you guess he doesn’t mind either. “we’ll have just enough for us.”

he hums in agreement. “yeah.”

it’s quiet for a while, just the night air mixed with his scent, the grass swaying along to a silent tune, him, and you.

“…you know, a lot of people think that things like this come in sequences or something. like you have to at least kiss and do more than studying or going to the store together. we don’t even go to each others’ rooms at night or spend every second together and all… but— I think… I think I already know I want to spend my whole life with you. I mean, I really, really love you. so I get kinda worked up about lots of stuff sometimes but then I’ll see you again and that tells me things’ll be fine. that we’ll work things out.”

“yeah,” you say, your breath brushing against his skin again. it warms your cheeks up as the heat in it spreads around your face like hot tea. “we will. we definitely will. I promise.”

you fall asleep on his shoulder and don’t care about waking up on time the next day.

haha I just wanted to get this out since it’s been sitting in my docs app for about a month,,, also 恭喜发财 to the people who celebrate it, and happy Valentine’s Day since it’s coming up soon! so sorry if this is subpar or has any grammatical mistakes TvT

[theshireisburning-so-mordoritis]

TELL ME YOU THINK ABOUT ME TOO

Part of the Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Three

Steven Grant x F!Reader (hints of Marc Spector x F!Reader) 18+. 9K. Friends to lovers with a shit ton of pining. Female masturbation. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected shower sex. Steven being all soft and needy but also a little feral.

Prompt: "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

Requested by: @acrossthesestars , I am so sorry for how long this has taken me and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

Their relationship was an odd thing Steven thought. Chaotic in the kind of way that not many would understand. 

God, he just barely understood it himself after all.

It's him and it's Marc and it's you, all entwined, your lives like singular threads that were blown together and now lay impossibly tangled. Knotted so tightly that even if someone was to try and shear them apart, there would still be remnants of the others embedded in the one they tried to pull loose. 

And then it went beyond that. 

There were the separate tanglements that branched from the heart of the whole one. Himself and Marc. Marc and you. You and him. 

He knew that there were differences - that there was something more between you and Marc. Another level to the relationship that Steven yearned for but felt would be pushing his luck to try and approach with you after you had already given him so much. 

When he wasn't in control he sometimes saw fragments of it, glimpses that made him flush and his chest tighten, desire clashing with the jealousy that sat like an uncomfortable weight in the back of his throat. He saw you through the thinning glass between the alters, saw your lips part around a throaty moan that hit him like a train, the slopes of your bare skin, sweat slick and gleaming, as your back bowed in pleasure.

He was always quick to turn away before he saw too much, squeezing his eyes shut to give you your privacy and to chastise himself for those feelings that were steadily slipping further out of his already shaky control. 

He was arguing against himself, the part of him that craved more than he should, stern in the reasoning that he should be grateful to have you in any capacity. To have your friendship and your care, your protectiveness over him and the way your eyes glowed with interest, gaze fixed on him and smile soft, warm and encouraging, no matter what subject he chose to ramble on and on at you about. 

And if that wasn’t enough to make him hold his tongue then the insecurities that clung to his bones and his insides - his poor lovesick heart - in strings of black tar, were certainly more than willing to do the trick.

Because why would you want him like that when you've already got someone like Marc? Someone so clearly your equal. 

Would you be offended by the idea of him as a partner - of being with both of them? 

What if he ruined things entirely - made things weird and you leave? Plunging your hand in that mess of threads and ripping yours away, splitting fibres that burrowed beneath his skin and left him forever haunted by the ghost of you. 

It didn’t matter that Marc had tried to tell him otherwise, gave Steven as many hints as he could without revealing the extent of your feelings because that was your business and not his place. His voice growing exasperated the longer that Steven refused to do anything about it. 

"Do you really think she would put up with all of this, if she didn't love both of us?"

Yes.

No. 

Bloody hell, he didn't know. 

It’s a question he didn't have an answer to and so he chose to ignore it completely. 

Buried it alongside the too fast flutter of his pulse beneath his skin when you drifted close, when your hand was threading through the mess of his curls. Gentle fingers tilting his jaw, stroking the fragile skin beneath his eyes as you checked for signs that he wasn’t sleeping as well as you’d like before you mumbled out a happy sounding noise, pleased when you found none.

He swallowed it back and pretended it didn't burn all the way down. Like the thought didn’t feel like it would burst him to flames the same way it did when he woke to find you wound around his body, legs tangled with his and your breath, soft and warm, against his neck. 

The only reaction you gave when realising you had fallen asleep with Marc and woken with Steven, being the shy smile that crept across your lips as you gazed up at him, arms making no move to let him go, to push him away and create distance. 

He didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. 

He was in over his head.

** 

It was after a fight that it happened. 

They returned to the quiet of their hotel room, heads down and bodies tucked in on themselves as they passed through the plain reception and the corridors with their aged, peeling wallpaper until there was the relief of the door clicking shut behind them. 

They were stained with the after effects of their violence. Blood splattered jaws and rust beneath their nails, the collar of Steven’s sweater torn wide, slit at the abdomen from where he was stabbed before he’d remembered to summon the suit and when he looked at you, there were already bruises blooming. Creeping across your skin - the swell of your cheek - before his very eyes, muddied shades of navy and lavender that made him wince and his hands twitch. 

You smiled when you caught it, all easy charm, a sweet, placating thing that softened the sharp edges that still clung to your features after a mission. “I’m fine Steven.” You told him gently. “Nothing a shower and some bandages won’t fix anyway. 

He nodded, a little unsure as always, trying to offer a simple smile back because Steven’s learned it’s best not to hover when it comes to you. To treat you like you were made of glass just because you were something infinitely precious to them. That you could easily grow frustrated at the way Marc loomed like a pissed off drill sergeant and Steven fretted like a frantic, mother hen when they saw you hurt all because you lacked an ancient god fused to your bones and hooked in the meat of your soul. 

Instead he slipped into the bathroom and cleaned away the blood that itched at his own skin, his stomach only faintly twisting this time as he watched it swirl pink in the water before slipping down the drain. 

He was getting better at it, he realised belatedly. It didn’t feel like he’d lose whatever food he had managed to get down that day anymore when he was faced with the evidence of what he had done, like his stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and he needed you to scrape the sweat-damp droop of his curls away from his clammy forehead. Mouthing soothing sounds into his shoulder as he groaned and coughed up his guts. 

Once he was dressed in something that didn’t look like it’s seen the inside of a shredder he went out again. 

It was routine by now. Him or Marc would go in search of food - flaky pastries dusted with cinnamon or soaked in syrup. Steaming pasta in rich, silky sauce with thick slices of buttery garlic bread. Tacos. Gyoza. Earl grey cake from the bakery you passed on your way into town. 

Anything you asked for because it was the only way you ever really let them take care of you, only huffing slightly when they handed you the painkillers that you absolutely always argued you didn’t need if they didn’t bribe you first. 

And by the time they typically got back you would already be lounging in the bed. Hair slightly damp from the shower, wounds neatly bandaged, and looking far too warm and soft than Steven’s poor heart could handle, sunk into the plethora of mismatched pillows. 

It always made his heart flutter in his chest to come back to you waiting, to step into the room and find your eyes shining over at him, your hands already outstretched, making grabbing motions that had him chuckling as you beckoned him towards you with the food. Head tilting in the direction of the box tv as you teased him with a grin. “It’s about time, there’s an old crime documentary about to start, I thought we could watch whilst we eat.” 

Which is why it struck him as odd when he returned and there was no sign of you. The bed still neatly made. The blank screen of the tv staring back at him, projecting nothing but his own reflection, when his gaze flicked to it. 

He relaxed when he registered the faint sound of running water - the repetitive pattering of spray hitting the tiles. Shook his head at how his body had immediately drawn tight with anxiety all because you weren’t where he had expected you to be. The breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding blowing past his lips in a rushed exhale at the smell of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, comforting in a way he couldn’t explain, seeping beneath the bathroom door. 

Everything’s fine. She’s fine. You were just worrying over nothing.

But then he heard it. 

His name. 

Or at least, he thought he did. There was a few beats of silence when he stopped, quietly placing the bag of food onto the side as he strained to listen. Nothing. 

It was maybe his imagination, he thought. 

Maybe you had been mumbling to yourself, singing beneath your breath like he knew you liked to do when you thought no one could hear. He went back to sorting the food with another shake of his head, a mutter to himself that he was growing far too paranoid as he pulled out the containers and the plastic utensils before reaching over to the little tv to find something you might be interested in watching when you eventually did come out.  

And then he definitely heard it again. 

A touch louder, clearer that time than the last, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sound. It was a pained thing - a low moan that cut to a whimper and Steven almost completely lost his head. 

Were you hurt? Had he left when you needed him? What if you’re trying to hide the seriousness of one of your wounds, bleeding out in there because of your stubborn refusal to worry him?

He called to you once. A second time that was steeped in a dizzying panic, and when there was no response again all thought went out the window. He was lunging for the door to the bathroom, sweat-damp hand fumbling with the handle before he nearly wrenched the damn thing off despite Marc’s suspiciously calm voice in his head telling him ‘Steven wait..it’s not what you think-’ 

He almost snarled at that, bristling in disbelief that Marc could be so unbothered when Steven’s fear had snapped to life in an instant to clutch him by the throat. There was an anger he wasn’t quite used to rushing through his chest, burning vicious and ugly, charring his bones as he spat back at the other man, “If you think I’m going to ignore the fact that she’s seriously hurt then you’re fucking mental, what is wrong with you!” 

Marc didn't respond, at least not with words - there was a weary sigh that seemed to say ‘suit yourself’ and then silence. Good. 

He refused to pay him mind, to focus on anything else other than you, getting you the help you needed, and when he finally flung the door open, the noise of it hitting the wall almost deafening in the silence of that tiny room, everything suddenly stumbled to a halt as what he’d just walked in on seared itself upon his brain. Burning bright behind his eyelids when he slammed them shut, a hand slapped over them for good measure.

Because you were all bare, steam-slick skin. Glittering with the droplets of water that caught the light and shone as they trailed down your body in a way that made the image of him catching each one with his tongue flash across his mind, unbidden, entrancing him until his gaze had followed a shimmering path to where he'd discovered the hand buried between trembling thighs. Your fingers that halted their quick, jerking movements as your pretty features morphed from pleasure to stunned surprise. 

“Oh god -  bollocks - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-"

He was rambling. Stammering on his words like his tongue was too thick for his mouth, choking on the billows of steam he was breathing in as his face flushed with the sickening kind of heat that came with pure mortification and good fucking god, what the hell was he doing still standing there? 

“I’m sorry,” he continued, rooted in place despite every fibre of his being telling him to bolt. It burst out of him almost, jumbled and tumbling, all frantic to make you understand. “My name- I heard you say my name and I thought… it sounded like you were hurt and I know you like to handle your injuries alone but it sounded bad and I thought you could be bleeding out or dying and I just couldn’t–”

You were wrapping gentle fingers around his wrists before he could talk himself breathless, into an early grave with the way his pulse was hammering beneath flushed skin. Your voice fell even softer, barely rising over the sound of the water that was still pelting against the tiles, as you told him, “Steven, calm down. Look at me, it’s okay.” 

He wanted to resist, unwilling to face the weight of your disappointment, the shame that would only double tenfold when that harsh glare of yours undoubtedly pinned him with it, but he found himself compelled by a featherlight touch at his jaw, the arc of cheek, sweeping the damp curls from his eyes just as they fluttered open. 

Steven gulped as his stare settled on you, closer than he'd expected you to be, now wrapped up in a thread-bare towel that hid only enough skin for you to be considered decent but had him sending a prayer of thanks for to any god that would listen anyway. He didn’t think he’d survive it otherwise.

Not with the way you were actually looking at him. Touching him. 

He was already having trouble breathing properly, his stomach still flipping from the memory of you, your closeness to him now when your soft moans were still echoing around in his head. 

Steven, Steven, Steven. 

His heart had yet to return to its normal pace and as it stuttered and beat itself violently against the cage of his ribs, he wondered if it was possible to die from something like this. From the desire and longing trapped and blistering beneath his skin, a wicked hot thing that was trying to burn him from the inside out.

 It certainly felt like he could. 

Your expression grew anxious whilst you simply watched one another, gaze troubled and brow knit into a soft frown. Your lip drawn between your teeth in a way that made him have to swallow down the urge gently tug it free with his thumb, to soothe away the rawness with soft touches. An even softer kiss. 

Gods, he was pathetic. 

Even when he was expecting you to be angry at him, for that gentle calmness to drop any second to reveal disgust, he still couldn’t stop himself from thinking about touching you, kissing you. Loving on you. He wanted to shake himself, to rub away the ache in his chest that worsened as your lips parted and he braced himself for you to tell him you couldn’t be around him after this. 

“It’s not you who should be apologising, Steven.” You told him instead, voice tinged with guilt, a hint of embarrassment. Nervous in a way he’d never seen before. And when your eyes dropped briefly to where your hands were still cradling his own you missed the way he blinked at you in stunned confusion. 

“I shouldn’t have been doing that - thinking about you like that - definitely not when you could hear…shit- I’m so fucking sorry you heard it and saw what you did. I get it if you don’t feel comfortable around me and you need a break or something, fuck - is that something you would want? Do you want me to go?” 

Steven didn’t even know what to say. His expression had morphed into something utterly dumbfounded. His brain screeching to a halt at your apology - your confession? 

It was spinning around inside his skull like a carousel, all bright flashing light and the swelling tinkling of fairytale music. Because surely it couldn’t be real right? He’d not really heard what he thought he had, he’d not heard you admitting that you think about him.

Maybe he’d been knocked out during the fight and this was a dream? He almost found it easier to believe.

Except for the fact that in his dreams he didn’t have Marc’s voice in his head - seething with frustration. He wasn’t being yelled at to say something. Say anything. He wasn’t getting stressed out by the irate stream of demands mixing with his own rapidly firing thoughts until they all muddled into something that felt an awful lot like the oncoming of a migraine. 

He wanted to snap at Marc to be quiet for just five bloody seconds but then he was raising his voice again - more worried this time - and it cut crystal clear through the rest of the noise. Sharp enough for Steven to finally understand what the other man had been desperately trying to snap his attention to. 

‘Jesus fucking christ Steven, she’s going to leave! She thinks you don’t want her - SAY SOMETHING.”

And Marc was right. You had drawn away from him, dropped your hands from his cheeks and tucked them into your sides, arms crossed over your chest like you were shielding the vulnerable parts of yourself you’d only just worked up the courage to expose. 

Curling into yourself in the face of what you perceived as rejection. 

He watched in a throat-tight panic as you nodded solemnly and made to squeeze past him, reaching for the door that had swung back closed behind him from the force with which he had thrown it open. 

It was the brush of you against him that startled him back to life - a smack of reality cracking across his bewildered face that told him you were about to walk out of that door, out of their shitty hotel room and straight out his life if he didn’t stop you. 

Steven was whirling around before his mind could even register having told his legs to move. He caught at your wrist with a shaky hand , the touch of it feverish against your skin that had rapidly cooled once outside the heat of the shower - goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips despite the balmy air that swirled around them. 

You turned, fingers still grazing the door handle, and looked at him, wide eyed and apprehensive, unwillingly hopeful, and it was enough to make the muscles in his throat unlock. Words bubbling up and past his lips before he could even consider if they were the right ones. 

“Did you mean it?” He rasped. “ You think of me when you touch yourself?” 

There was silence for a second, maybe two, and by the way you sucked in a breath - lips parting as you stared at him - he suspected the question had been the last thing you expected to be asked. 

It was agony to stand there and wait and Steven tried his best not to let it show, tried not to breathe because every inhale was drenched in you. 

The scent of your shampoo and your body wash and your breath fanning across his lips when he subconsciously leaned closer. The weight of his heart that wasn’t really his anymore, hadn’t been since he met you, sat on his tongue. Ready to topple along with the desperate plea he was fighting to keep clamped behind his teeth. 

Please. Please tell me you think about me too - that you want me just as much as I want you.

And then, “I did,” you whispered, soft and hushed like you were worried if you spoke any louder it would ruin whatever was happening between you, “I do.” 

He surged forward and kissed you then. Both of you colliding with the door with the force of it, his lips crashing against yours like the world would spin off its axis if he didn’t have his mouth on you. It was a little clumsy but it still made your breath catch in your throat, made your body melt into his and your hands fly to clutch at the slopes of his shoulders as your surprise dissolved into something hungrier, the sensation of his mouth moving over yours dragging you under. 

It wasn’t a sweet, soft thing like Steven had always imagined kissing you would go, all romantic like pretty sunsets and doves flying, a choir singing in the background as he tenderly cradled your cheeks in his hands. 

It was tongue and teeth, months of repressed yearning bursting free and swallowing him whole, demanding that he devoured in turn. Making everything a little messy, touched with desperation. Frantic. 

He let you part his lips, let you flick your tongue, quick and dirty, against his own and lick the needy groan from his mouth that followed until he was breathless and his knees threatened to buckle. A hand dropping to your waist to palm at the curve of it, fisting tight at the cotton towel, and the other sliding from your cheek to grasp a handful of the hair at the back of your head. Both meant to keep you locked to him just as much as it was supposed to keep him grounded. 

Steven felt greedy with it, braver than he’d ever been with every little moan that slipped from your lips to his for him to swallow down and when you finally pulled back an inch gasping for breath, lips parted and expression looking entirely kiss-drunk, he felt like he’d found heaven. 

His field of reeds, in the way your eyes were shining.

The way your fingers trailed up his neck and tangled in his curls to keep him from straying too far.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, voice lovesick and bleeding awe, painting your mouth with a sparkling grin as he pressed each word to your lips when you tugged him back down to kiss him again.  “More beautiful than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen.” 

You sighed into him, the hand in his hair tilting his head so you could kiss him deeper, a little more demanding before your lips slipped to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, sliding down his throat to suck a bruise at the skin before dropping a sweet kiss over the mark that made his hips buck against you. 

It had a groan tearing through Steven’s chest when you pressed back, all silky, steam-damp skin and barely any material between you that suddenly felt that much less with the way it was clinging to you both. 

“Steven…please.” You breathed.

And gods, you sounded just as needy as he felt. 

So he hitched your leg high up at his waist and rolled his hips a little harder, a little more deliberate, drawing back just enough that he could watch how your lashes fluttered and your mouth dropped open, trying his best to take note of the exact angle and pressure that made you keen so he could do it over and over again. 

He could feel how wet you were, the bare heat of you soaking into his jeans, pressed tightly against where he was achingly hard beneath the denim and Steven felt himself twitch at every gorgeous sound that poured past your lips -  at the way you had snuck you hand between your two bodies without him noticing to palm at the thick outline of his cock. 

It made his jaw go slack from the pressure, brain fuzzy from the bolt of pleasure that skitted down his spine when you squeezed him just right and then he was curling himself over you, burying you into the door and mouthing sloppy kisses and obscene praise into the skin of your neck whilst he rocked his hips. 

He forced himself to bite back a whine when you pushed him back an inch, extracting yourself from his grasp so you could stand before him properly, eyes glossy and a touch wild, all panting breaths as your fingers curled around the hem of his shirt and tugged. 

“Need to feel more of you.”

And then you were yanking it over his head, throwing it somewhere to be forgotten about whilst you pressed your hands into the warmth of his chest and made a greedy noise of appreciation that threatened to make his heart burst, a groan rumbling in his throat in response when you dragged your nails ever so lightly across his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans. 

His hands found yours then. Stopping them from popping the button beneath your fingertips, and when your eyes shot to his, the beginnings of the soft frown that shadowed them melting into something akin to surprise once you caught sight of him, he wondered if you could read the desperation that he was sure was plastered all over his face. 

Because it wasn't that Steven wanted to stop that had him catching at you. 

It was the utter assurance that if you got your hands on him he wouldn't last a fucking second that made his voice hoarse and his own hands tremble as he all but begged.

"Tell me more of what you think about… tell me what you want." 

And Steven didn't think he'd ever forget the way you looked at him then, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, hungry. Lips kiss-swollen and parted as you sucked in a sharp breath. Looking so fucking sinful that it had him swallowing down a choked moan.  

You looked wrecked by his words. 

By him. 

He was almost embarrassed by just how close the sight drove him. There was a swell of something unforgivingly hot behind his ribs, searing in his stomach and his veins, all liquid gold and white flame, and he couldn’t resist re-capturing your mouth in a kiss that echoed just how helplessly he was affected by it all. 

You drew his hands up whilst his lips were busy curving over yours, pressing them to the place where the towel lay knotted against the warm flush of your chest and when he groaned at the implication, the way the material came that little bit looser at the slightest touch, you took advantage of his distraction to skim your mouth across his cheek and to the delicate curve of his ear. 

“I want you to take it off, want you to touch me” you murmured, breath hitching when he obeyed with quick fingers, worn fabric slipping away in a soft rush the same way his own breath exited his lungs. “Please.”  Added like it was possible he would even think of saying no, like his hands, large yet reverant, weren’t already exploring. Pulling shudders from your body with every light graze of his fingertips. “I think about it all the time.”

Steven was a goner. Utterly devoted to bending to every whim that you had, to acting out every thought that had popped into your head from whenever you had begun to want him until right then. He wanted to know it all. 

How could he not be when you were reacting to him so beautifully? 

Your fingers had left his to wander long ago so you could twist them into his hair instead. Using your hold to crush him into you further and kiss him breathless when he touched somewhere that made you arch, to tug just a little meanly at the soft strands when he lingered on his path to where you were apparently growing impatient for him, and by the time he was tracing the crease of your thighs you were both wound achingly tight, panting into each other’s mouths. 

He matched your moan when he finally slid his fingers through your folds, throat tight and something like pride flaring deep in his chest at the soaked heat he found there. At the soft, broken noise you made when he pressed gentle circles over your clit. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered against your lips. “Tell me.”

Tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Tell me exactly how you picture it so I can give you everything you want. 

Tell me, tell me tell me.

“Fuck, yes, more– please - don’t stop.”  You rushed out, voice strained but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t the prettiest Steven had ever heard it. Absolutely hypnotising and he was under its spell without question, ready to worship at your altar in any way you deemed fit. 

He kissed you with heavy-lidded eyes and open-mouthed, lips catching at yours in the briefest bursts because he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the way your chest heaved as he slipped a finger inside you, a second. 

The way your own stare glazed when you told him just how much pressure to use whilst he curled his fingers and had you choking on the words, clenching around him before you could even finish. 

You were feverish in his arms, mewling and arching as he picked up the pace and Steven almost lost his head at the state of you, trying his hardest to not bite his lip bloody when every flex of your hips into his hand had it pressing against his own need. He allowed himself to rock into you just once and then hastily pulled back as the pleasure burned white-hot, sliding his thumb a little firmer over your clit when you squirmed and whined at the loss of him. 

“I know, I know– m’sorry love.” He gasped, breathless, chest tight and voice shot. “You feel so fucking good– I can't–”

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His hands shook, fingers curling around the nape of your neck in an attempt to hide it, and there was this unfathomable want clawing at his insides so savagely that he could hardly move without the friction of his jeans threatening to send him over the edge. 

Bloody hell, you had him so fucking desperate he could scarcely think. 

You both trembled as his lips ghosted across your cheek, each breath hot in your ear, as his voice quivered. “What else– what else do you need from me?- I’ll give you anything you want, darling, please.” 

He barely registered the knock of your head falling back against the door, the whisper of a curse slipping past your lips, because at his words you had clamped tight enough around the twist of his fingers to make him shudder. Lashes fluttering at the way your nails bit deep into the muscles of his shoulders as the slick sound you being fucked on his hand grew over the roar of the shower. 

“I- I don’t- Steven, oh fuck.”

Maybe that’s what did it. The way you were so ready to fall apart for him, all pretty and messy and pleading something sinful for more, more, more. Maybe it was the way the evening light peeking in from the tiny window had begun to turn into shadows, hiding the way his cheekbones were swept with pink better than the clouds of steam ever could. 

Or maybe it was the fact that every time his name dripped off your tongue it made him feel so fucking wanted that he was delirious with it, his heart full and shining golden as you peeled back each of those strings of black tar insecurities that had choked the beating flesh for far too long.

Whatever it was, there was suddenly a new found confidence that burned through his veins, one that took every dirty thought swirling in his head and made him prepared to do them all. To give you anything you wanted, regardless of whether you were actually capable of forming the words for yourself. 

There was no missing the blaze of your stare caught on his lips as he spoke after all. 

Oh.

“Do you want my mouth?” Steven asked hoarsely against your throat. “Is that something you've thought about - you want me to taste you?” 

He barely waited for your desperate nod and then he was gone. Dropping to the floor and ignoring the flash of pain that the cold tile spears through his knees as he buried his face between your soaked thighs. 

The first flick of his tongue made your breath catch. The second had you twisting your fingers in the silk of his curls. A third had you tugging at him hard enough that Steven whined into you, the fingers that were dug into the meat of your thighs slipping to your ass to press you to him tighter, his hips thrusting against nothing whilst you bucked against the searing heat of his mouth, utterly uninhibited. 

The sight of it was maddening, it was divine. 

He still didn't quite believe this wasn't a dream. 

There was sweat beading at your hairline - glistening along the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts. He watched the way your free hand trailed the softest path to one of them and squeezed, felt the way your body reacted to the added sensation in the flutter of your walls around his fingers. Squeezing tighter, tighter, tighter, as he rubbed at the soft patch of tissue until your thighs quaked around his head and you grew liquid. 

Voice thread-bare when you whimpered that you couldn't take much more, that you were oh so close and please don't stop. 

He went to flame then. To desperation and insanity and burning, searing need to devour you whole and drink you down until he either drowned or you had nothing left to give. 

And just like you begged him to, he didn't stop until you spasmed and gushed around his fingers. Didn't stop when the call of his name cracked and broke as your voice gave out whilst he licked you through the violent crest of your climax until it's dying breaths and your body fell slack into the door. Propped up between the paint-chipped wood and Steven’s flushed body shoved tight against your own. 

He didn't stop until you jerked in his hold, gasping and pleading, your fingers eventually releasing their tense grip in his hair to slip down to his chin, tilting it. Away from your swollen cunt as he was made to look up at you.  

“Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed weakly, stunned gaze roving over every inch of him as you tried to catch your breath, and he wondered if he looked as wrecked as he felt before you. Wild haired and panting. On his knees with his eyes dazed and face coated glossy with you. 

“I'm sorry,” he rasped, not bothering to even try and appear like he was very sorry at all, “you just taste better than I ever dreamed you would.” 

Your eyes glazed a little at that, a dopey little smile playing at your mouth with it, as the first tendrils of hunger crept back into your expression alongside the tender amusement. “Fuck, Steven - who knew you were such a smooth talker?” 

He laughed, a bright burst, cheeks kissed pink with the heat of your words and the slightly smug feeling of satisfaction that rumbled through his chest as he watched you glow with pleasure before ducking his head. 

“I think that's all you, darling. I can't help it - not with the effect you have on me.” Steven mumbled, a soft and embarrassed grin tugging at his lips even whilst they trailed high over your shin to the crease behind your knee - rising up, up ,up to explore the warm skin of your inner thigh as his fingers swirled delicate little patterns at your ankle. 

He couldn't stop touching you, couldn't feed the ache fast enough that came with needing to do it more than he already was. 

And when his other hand swept the length of your leg to stroke over your belly you made a playful grab for it and brought it to your lips, eyes shining down at him at the way his lashes fluttered and his expression turned smitten before you tugged at him. Pulling him up your body until his jeans were scraping at your skin and his mouth was surrendering once more to yours in a syrup sweet kiss that burned deeper, more feverish, the longer it lasted. 

Steven let you wind around him, let you urge him closer and closer until he was crushing you against the door at your back- wood slippery with condensation. 

He let you roll your hips into his own and finally allowed himself to chase the pleasure with you as it renewed its intensity, let the thick outline of his cock rock against you until you were groaning into each other's mouths. Hands knotted in his hair and pearl-white teeth grazing the plush of his lip when you drew back to murmur. 

“I want you inside me– want to make you feel good. Please, let me show you the effect you have on me.” 

It sent a shock through him - ripped a low, guttural moan straight from his lungs that was followed by a heat-soaked curse that you took from him just as readily as you had everything else he'd given so far. 

He didn't even blink before asking. “Can you say that again?” 

You licked your lips and grinned, breath stuttering as he continued to move against you, fingers digging hard into the meat of your ass whilst you clung to him. “I need you inside me or I'm gonna lose my mind, it's all I've thought about for months - the way you'd feel- how you'd fuck me- oh gods.” 

Another desperate noise. “Fucking hell. Again. Please.” 

This time he didn't try to stop you when you reached for the last article of clothing keeping his body separated from yours.

There was the sharp clink of metal as you tore your hands from his hair to wrestle with his belt, your fingertips slipping over the leather whilst you fought to tug it free from the loops of his jeans before it fell to the tiled floor with a quiet thud and a clank. 

And then you were pushing his jeans down just far enough until he was able to shakily kick them off. His heart in his mouth as he straightened, utterly naked before you apart from the shadows that slanted over his skin. 

He felt a flicker - the ghosts of his insecurity passing over his face before he could blow them away like cobwebs- and prayed that you wouldn't notice. That you wouldn't mistake his hesitation for something else and even consider it to be directed at you. 

But instead it seemed that you understood. Your hands found his jaw and you drew him into a kiss that ached. A lovely, bruising thing that had him melting into you, any insecurities fleeing so fucking far away that he could barely remember what they felt like. 

You held him as tightly as you could and hummed in delight against his lips when he did the same and crushed you to his chest, the sound of it morphing into something needy as his cock throbbed, hot and smearing slick against your hip. 

“I want you, Steven, I don't have the perfect words to explain just how much right now… just know that I need you so badly it hurts– it's hurt from the moment I met you and I don't think it'll ever stop no matter how much I might have you.” 

Gods, you were threatening to undo him. 

You had said you didn't have the perfect words and then given him everything he had dreamed of. Everything he thought he would die still wanting and never get to hear. 

Steven swallowed hard, throat bobbing, and then he was bending down to lift you in his arms, the strength of a god thrumming through his muscles and large hands gripping beneath your thighs as you wound your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Clutching needily at him whilst he peppered your face with sweet, breathless kisses. 

“You can have me whenever you want,” he pressed the words into your jaw, the damp warmth of your cheeks as he walked you into the shower, murmuring the next ones over and over until the rush of the water threatened to drown them out, “I’m yours.” 

You went soft for him in the cradle of his arms at that. Stripped down to your barest bones in the face of his raw emotion and it made his heart flutter and thump all too fast behind his ribs when your voice trembled on a sigh his name, so sweet and lovely. 

Beneath the luke-warm spray and with cold tile at your back, you drew him closer, nudged your nose tenderly against his own and touched him as he fought to commit it all to memory. The way he felt - burning with each and every stroke of hand, each part of him alight as you murmured beautiful affections against his mouth - at the intimacy of it all. 

The image of you that he was sure not even in death could take from him when it eventually came - eyes bright as jewels, lips swollen with his kisses, all lush, silken skin that shone under the weak stream of light the evening had yet to swallow. Droplets of water clinging to your hair and lashes like crystals. You looked like something ethereal, something otherworldly and untouchable, and the privilege he felt in being the one to see you that way, to contribute to the way you were a gorgeous mess, felt like something holy. 

It was almost too much and Steven hissed sharply through his teeth when you finally guided him into you, a whimper caught in his chest and eyes screwed shut as you lowered yourself down inch by inch until his hips met yours. He felt like he was on fire, the warmth that had been blooming in his gut morphing into something violent and unimaginable that had his body tensing as he struggled not to finish before he’d even started. Head falling against your shoulder just before he felt your lips brush against his temple, parting on a rushed exhale. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “fuck, Steven.”

At least, it seemed that you were in just as bad shape as he was. He’d probably say something similar if he could remember how to speak. 

But his mind had splintered. Shattered apart to fragments and the only thing he could focus on was the way you were surrounding him- all slick, tight heat and the overwhelming sensation that burst through his chest of all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more. 

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute.” He stuttered, voice hoarse and eyes blown wide, endlessly dark when he peered up at you. Half adoring, half pleading. “I want to make it good for you, you just feel so–gods, you feel too good.” 

He could only moan when you kissed him, a filthy sound that would have had his cheeks flushing scarlet had he not been so out of his mind. Could only stare at you like you were pure magic taken form - no god or pact needed for whatever it was running through your veins - as you threaded your fingers through his hair and whispered. “It’s okay, Steven, it’s okay. It’s already so good, christ–you feel amazing, just let go for me, I want to feel it.” 

It made his desperation threaten to win over. Head spinning as he dragged himself back out of you before surging back in, tightening his grip on your ass and lifting you up higher so he could do it again and again and again. Each thrust sliding you further up the tiles and pulling a strangled noise from the back of your throat that he quickly stole with greedy lips moulded over your own. 

It started slow, deliberate and devastating, and then turned faster. Needier and unrestrained. The sound of panting breaths and skin on skin rising above the dull roar of water pelting against the tiled floor. Open mouthed kisses that were forced to come to an end because all the oxygen felt like it had fled both of your lungs, punched out everytime you slammed yourself down to meet the frantic rolling of his hips. 

Steven had never felt anything like it and it was dangerously close to annihilating him completely. 

There were wicked bolts of something animalistic, a feral rush of desire, threatening to weaken his knees and you gasped in surprise, legs clenching tight at his waist, when he moved to hold you with just one arm banded around across your back as his other hand slammed against the wall for support. 

It changed the angle that he speared into you with and with the next thrust that came you were sobbing for him, seizing up like he’d plunged into the heart of your pleasure and pierced it - letting it flow out to the farthest reaches of you until you were curling into the solid press of him against you. Fingers in his hair and teeth searing a mark into his shoulder. 

“Steven,” you whimpered and fuck, you sounded just as overwhelmed by it as he felt. Shaking in his arms as the heat wrapping around you both grew and grew. “Steven, Steven, Steven.”

It made him choke on his tongue, eyes rolling back at the way you were clenching around him as his thrusts became deeper, greedier. His cock harder than it had ever been whilst you made a mess of his stomach and his thighs and Steven couldn’t get enough, He was so close to losing his mind, so close to devouring you entirely and begging you to ruin him because every sound you made, every sweet little uh,uh,uh that tumbled past your lips was unlocking something wild tucked deep inside him that he was helpless to rein back. That had him babbling nonsense, incoherent words that dripped down on you like scalding hot honey. 

And then he latched his mouth to your nipple, relishing the way you jerked as he flicked his tongue and scraped his teeth across the peak until you mewled before trailing a path of fire up to your collar bones and then higher again to the tender skin of your throat. Sucking a kiss there that had you keening and shone like a bruise when he drew back to meet your burning stare.

“Touch yourself.” Steven begged, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Want you to show me– want to see how you touched yourself all those times you thought about this.” 

You nodded slowly as if dazed by the request, lips parted and eyes gleaming dark. But you were quick to comply. Quick to thrust a shaky hand down to where he was fucking up into you, to the crest of your sex where you were soaked and scorching like a furnace, and once you were there, your fingers drew quick, sloppy circles to your clit that had you throwing your head back with a loud cry of his name whilst he watched, lust drunk and in awe. 

“Shit, shit shit.” Each word that bubbled its way up your throat was ragged, edging on breathless as your back arched like a bow. “Steven, oh my god, I’m gonna–”

He surged up before you could finish, hand tearing away from the wall to tangle itself in your wet hair so he could drag your mouth to his and kiss you as you came. Holding you fiercely in place and groaning against your lips, swallowing down your own noises whilst your cunt fluttered around him, convulsing over and over until his movements grew frantic and messy. Warmth pulsing brightly in his groin and his stomach and his too tight chest. 

It was too much - he was bordering on delirious. Everything was hot and wet and he was wound so tight that any moment it felt like he’d explode. Burst apart like confetti. It took every ounce of strength he had to stave off his own release so he could extend yours by letting the frantic rhythm of his snapping thrusts morph into a slow, intense grind that stole the breath from your chest and made it feel like he was melding himself to your body. Like you were burying into each other so deep that you would never truly be able to remove the imprint of the other afterwards. 

There was a flash of pain from your nails scratching down his scalp and across the broad sweep of his shoulders, teeth scoring the softness of his bottom lip whilst shudders wracked your frame and it startled him, the low, starving noise it drew from his mouth. Knocked him flat when you drew the stinging flesh into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the marks you had left behind, and began to raise and lower yourself up and down on his cock that little bit faster despite the way he could feel the muscles of your thighs trembling around his waist. 

And when you cupped his cheeks, eyes burning with a wicked hunger whilst you whispered against his mouth, Steven was utterly lost. 

“C’mon Steven, let go,” you encouraged him, voice wrecked. Desperate. “Want you to come for me, I want to feel it, please.”

He fell apart for you then, crashed into bliss with his arms winding achingly tight around you as his hips stuttered and then came to an almost stop, twitching desperately and fused unyieldingly to your own. His vision going dark and your name like a prayer that he gasped into your skin over and over. 

And when it all eventually calmed, the crashing of his heart beat against his ribs and your chaotic breaths, the exhaustion had him almost falling to the shower floor with you. Both of you slipping down the wall just an inch or two before he managed to right himself on weak legs to the sound of your startled laugh. 

It wasn’t until he had set you down and moved to clean you up, massaging with gentle hands and tender sweeping kisses all the places that he’d gripped so tightly, the places where you were starting to bare his marks that had him frowning apologetically, that it finally hit him that the shower was running cold. You were both being pelted with what felt like tiny shards of ice against your rapidly cooling skin and you snorted a laugh when he yelped in shock and immediately dragged you out of there, eyeing him with a sticky-sweet kind of affection as he snatched the thickest towel he could kind and wrapped it around you before pulling you close in an attempt to warm you up. 

The way you were looking up at him was making his chest ache, filling his lungs up with an adoring kind of wonder, the kind that sprouted wildflowers and soft vines that breached through all his organs to wrap around his ribs. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you. 

It made it impossible for him not to ask. “Can I kiss you?” 

And if he thought that you would laugh at him considering everything that had just happened, that only moments ago he’d been buried inside you, then he was delighted to be proven wrong. Because you were beaming at him the second the question rushed past his lips, eyes sparkling in the near dark of the tiny, damp bathroom. 

“Please.” 

So he kissed you like he’d always wanted to the first time, slipping his fingers through the wet tangle of your hair to cradle your head whilst his lips pressed sweetly and almost shy  against your own. It unfurled like it held its own magic, the type that could stop time and make him feel like he was floating, tingles rushing all through his body until he was lightheaded and needed to draw back before he lost his breath to the irresistible pull of it all. 

You just stood leaning into one another for a while, foreheads resting together, noses nudging each other lazily alongside the occasional soft brush of lips. And then you were wrapping him up in a towel of his own and leading him to the bed, using an extra towel to carefully dry him with a reverence that had his heart flip flopping in his chest and a blush rise high on his cheeks. He melted when you kissed him, little butterfly presses to his arms and chest before you pulled a clean sweater over his head, his thighs and his hips when he lifted them for you to pull his sweatpants on. 

And once Steven had returned the favour, he was drawing you to him in the middle of the bed, your back to his chest and the food that had long gone cold balanced precariously on the blanket pooled around you both. He fed you bites of chorizo and feta fries, coated in herbs and sprinkled with pomegranate, whilst an old movie played and when those three words fell from his lips, without thought and as easy as breathing, Stevens was no longer afraid. 

No longer felt in over his head. 

He murmured against your hair. “I love you.” And swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat when you turned and smiled, your fingers touching his face like he was something precious you had spent a lifetime yearning for before giving him the answer to a question he’d always thought he’d have to ignore for the rest of his life to save his own heart. 

“I love you too.” 

[kakujis]

stay with me?;

a/n: a little continuation of this post. i love kakucho too much to not give him what he wants c’mon now. 😭 but why is it so sexy for (fictional)men to restrain themselves until they just can’t anymore n they jus go buck wild?? anyways, i put my entire p*ssy into this i hope u guys enjoy! like genuinely i lost my mind writing this jjdjdjd

ft: bonten!kakucho x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k, not proofread xd

warnings: dark content. afab fem!reader, sub!reader, somno, f!oral receiving, overstim, dacryphilia, praise, pet names, slight orgasm control, unprotected, creamp*e(i hate this word), multiple rounds, dubcon, jealousy, stalking, obsession, honestly the more i wrote this it became a bit of yan!kakucho lol. gets a little soft at the end. very self indulgent 💜

showering with your door unlocked wasn’t the dumbest thing you could do. okay, maybe it was…but you trusted kakucho to watch and take care of any danger while he was there.

fresh out of the shower, you finished putting lotion onto your skin, the cool cream sinking into the warmth of your skin. switching off your bathroom light as you leave, you glance at your bedroom door.

maybe.. you should say goodnight to him, he is going to be up all night. you walk over, goosebumps blooming as you rubbed your arms for warmth. why was it always so cold out of the shower?

you open your door and peek into the dimly lit living room. kakucho was there, sitting on your couch and reading a book. dressed in all black, he rested one leg up on his knee and under the light of lamp you thought he looked handsome, his black hair dangling in front of his face as he read some random book plucked off the shelf.

“kakucho..” you started, voice barely louder than a whisper. he glanced up immediately, concern etching his features and two tone eyes meeting yours. you gave a small smile, “good night and thanks for... all this,” you say, gesturing to his spot.

he blinks, before nodding, “no problem. boss’s orders anyway,” he smiles back at you, before waving you off. “go get some rest.”

you nod before slipping back into your room, closing the door behind you. you hesitate on the lock slightly before you forgo locking it, trusting in kakucho completely. he was different from the rest of bonten. his voice was gentle alongside his touches. he was sweet to you and you to him. he was the one you went to when you were upset or scared. in another life, under different circumstances, maybe you would’ve dated.

but you remember what he actually does every time he stumbles into your office, hands bloodied and eyes frenzied. you always patch him up, watching the rise and fall of his chest reminding you that he was alive and someone else wasn’t. it strikes fear into you every time, that someone so gentle and so sweet could still snuff the light out from someone else.

you wonder what he looks like in those moments. does he look as lost when he’s sitting on your desk, eyes far off and unfocused as you disinfect and bandage his wounds? or is his resolve unwavering, eyes locked as he stares down his target and pulls the trigger?

you shake your head, nows not the time to think about that. now is time for sleep, you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. mikey’s list of tasks seemed to never end and you groaned thinking about the new stack of paper work that would grace your desk tomorrow morning.

you flopped into your bed, sinking down into your comforter and pillows. curling up under your blanket, you checked your phone one more time to see if you had any missing messages. you had just said goodnight to him, but seeing his name in your list of messages had you wanting to say it again.

y/n: kaku, i’m gonna sleep now. feel free to use whatever, whenever! sorry you have to stay up for me.

you waited a few moments, seeing if he’d respond. and he did, an immediate “read” underneath your message followed by his own:

kakucho: what’d i say earlier? don’t worry about it. you’re special to us.

y/n: you’re all special to me too. <3 goodnight.

kakucho: goodnight, y/n.

with that you closed your phone, placing it onto your nightstand before turning over. almost instantly, exhaustion took hold and you fell into a deep slumber.

-

the instant mikey mentioned that you could be in trouble, kakucho offered himself up. due to the increasing gang-conflict, you were assigned more body guards to escort you to and from home. not only that, but you had guards keeping watch outside your office day in and out.

as kakucho said, you were special to bonten. a shining, pearly light in the bleakness of bonten’s all consuming night. each executive held a place for you in their heart and each one had dreams of making you theirs, but kakucho.. bordered on obsession.

it started off innocent like holding the door open for you or grabbing an extra coffee on his way to work. if you were going to be a long time addition, he might as well get to know you. eventually, he started to relax in your company. he’d always visit your office at least once a day and you welcomed him, listening to his woes while venting some of your own. you were a breath of fresh air, the sweet scent of flowers, and being around you felt like a dream.. but then he started getting jealous.

jealous of the way you’d lightly tap on ran’s arm, giggling when he made a joke. jealous when you’d dance in rindou’s office, body swaying and humming to his music. jealous when he’d catch you sobering up sanzu, your body dangerously close to his as you pressed a water cup to his lips.

jealous of the way you’d always tell kokonoi how pretty his hair was and what he thought about your own. jealous when you’d light up takeomi’s cigarette for him without him even having to ask. jealous when you’d rub mochi’s shoulders after a long day, calling in someone to bring him a glass of wine. jealous of how every morning started with mikey and ended with mikey, as you were his secretary.

kakucho hitto was so fucking jealous of every single little thing you would do with anyone who wasn’t him. that’s when he started taking your things, little trinkets to keep you close, praying you’d keep your balcony door open every evening so he wouldn’t have to feel bad for breaking in. when he first followed you home, he didn’t even realize it. for some reason, you loved to take public transport home, as if you didn’t work for the most notorious gang in Japan. he was entranced by the way you moved, seemingly without a care in the world.

he caught himself when you turned back, the weight of his stare boring into you. he hid quickly, crouching behind a parked car. you shrugged it off and continued on, eventually making it to your small apartment home situated on the second story. he pondered over going back to his own place. he made it here, but what now? he couldn’t just knock on the door.

but then he heard something, the sound of a sliding door being opened. you stretched and sighed into the evening air, before heading back in. he came closer, until he decided to climb up onto your balcony. he dropped down, hiding behind your curtains. he peeked in, breath hitching as you started taking your clothes off before entering your room.

at the sound of running water and your bathroom door softly closing, he fully made his way in. he thought your apartment was cute, simple and small. the others probably would’ve had a fit knowing you lived so quaintly instead of bathing in luxury. but kakucho liked it anyway, running his hands along your walls and furniture, taking in deep lungfuls of your burning candle’s scent. god he wanted to make you his wife.

his pretty little housewife who would greet him home after a long day at work. his angel who would sit in his lap, pressing kisses to his forehead, murmuring, “let me take care of you, honey.” he yearned for it, his pretty baby fucked dumb on his bed every night.

when he first peered into your bedroom, he held back a groan as he saw your panties thrown onto the floor. your skirt was left haphazardly on your desk chair. while the rest of your clothes left a trail into the bathroom.

he felt guilty, you had no idea he was here. technically he was breaking in, but you had left everything so open. as if you were inviting him in just like you did with your office.

that night he stole his first pair of panties, shoving them into his pocket as he slipped out the way he came. heart pounding he walked away with his prize, albeit small in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn’t stop smiling, twirling the fabric in between his fingers. he came hard and fast that night inhaling your scent, he was addicted. he wanted more, your voice, your touch, your everything.

he started becoming a little more risky, first touching himself in your bedroom to opening your bathroom door slightly just to hear your singing as he jacked off into a used pair. it was never enough, he wanted, no, needed you underneath him squirming and writhing as he filled you up multiple times a night. he was getting restless and sooner or later he would finally get what he wanted: you.

that’s how he ended up here, the first one to watch over and protect you. his phone buzzed and he closed his book, reaching over to see who was texting him. he frowned when he realized it was the bonten group chat. what could they possibly want? he thought, opening up his messages.

mikey: we didn’t have time for a meeting today but who’s watching y/n tomorrow? kakucho can’t do it two nights in a row.

he tsk’d. he’d do this for the rest of his life if he had too, no questions asked.

kakucho: i don’t mind doing it tomorrow too.

mikey: no. you need rest, won’t be as reliable if you’re tired.

he bit his lip, tapping impatiently on his phone.

kakucho: i could just rest during the day.

mikey: i said no. it’s not an option. i don’t want anyone doing two nights in a row.

ran: i could probs do it or rin?

fuck. he grimaced, thinking about how ran wouldn’t hesitate to flirt with you. he remembers the day that he caught you letting ran sleep in your lap, your fingers running through his hair. not to mention, rindou, who already has you dancing in his office, you’d probably dance with him here too. at least, he thinks, it’s not sanzu. between the two brothers though, he’d probably hope for rindou.

mikey: sure, idc as long as someone does it.

rindou: i think i’m busy tomorrow night? have some stuff to clean up, it’s gonna have to be u ran

ran: alright lol

fuck. kakucho rubs his face, bouncing his leg as he sets his phone down. he paces the room, carefully trying to not wake you up. but the idea of ran flirting with you and you laughing, crinkling your nose, like you always do has him up the walls. would you playfully hit his arm like usual? would you let him touch you, hands trailing down your back? would you let him kiss you? god forbid, would you let him fuck you?

he runs a hand through his hair, his rage starting to consume him. there was one stream-line thought, hammering itself and taking hold of his brain: he has to be your first. he eyes the closed bedroom door. he’s done this before, he thinks, kicking off his shoes. just never while you’re actually in your bedroom. he takes a deep breath, before lightly placing his hand on the knob. slowly, he turns it, opening and entering into your room.

moonlight spills across your bed, illuminating your face in the dark. you snore softly, the exhaustion not only physical, but mental, wearing on you. the danger of having your brains blown out at any given moment loomed over you every day, suffocating every waking moment. you were on edge, always, and rightfully so. that’s why you felt safe with kakucho, utterly and completely safe. but that’s because you had never noticed the hurt in his eyes when you’d turn away from him. or the way his jaw tensed when you’d get “too close” to other executives. not once did you see the longing stares from across the room during meetings, too focused on writing down as many notes as you could hanging onto every word.

so you slept, peaceful and content, completely unaware that your protector was longing to keep you pinned underneath him as he had his way with you. if only you knew the things that he would do to you. slowly, he crept towards your dozing figure. your bed dipped as he came closer, a gloved hand pulling down your blanket. you twitched and he paused, watching as you made a little noise in response to the sudden cold shift.

his heart was pounding as he left light touches, ghosting over your exposed skin. he hooks a finger under your waistband, inching down your pajama shorts. he removes one glove, his hands burning with desire to truly feel you before he uses one finger to trail down the length of your clothed cunt.

you stir once more and he pauses again. is he really doing this? there’s no way you wouldn’t wake and yet he can’t find it in him to care. so he continues, gently carressing your core, every so often glasting over your thighs. little moans and mewls came from you and kakucho could feel his patience thinning. he wanted to take his time, explore every inch of you, but if just those small touches could get you writhing underneath him what would happen if he did more?

removing his other glove and casting it onto the floor, he starts to remove your panties. he throws them near his gloves, a reminder to take them for later. settling himself in between your thighs, he presses a kiss to your pussy. his breath is hot as he licks a stripe from your hole to clit. hooking his arms around your thighs, he holds you in place as you start to squirm in your sleep. he spreads your folds, admiring your pretty pussy before he dives back in, eagerly licking at your clit.

he watches you through half lidded eyes as your features contort, your mouth a small “o”. he switches between sucking on your clit like it’s candy and burying his tongue deep inside curling up against your walls. you eyelids flutter as you wake, drool dribbling down your chin.

“wha- ah!” you gasp, roused from sleep with hands shooting down and tugging onto his dark locks. he groans, brows knitting as he continues fucking you on his tongue.

your vision is blurry, only the moonlight that seeps in through the window illuminating your view. but you see him, eyes lidded, looking up at you in nigh worship, as he licks and kisses and slurps at your arousal.

“k-kakucho?” you stutter out, “fuck, what are you-“ you’re interrupted again, as he slips a finger, then two into your dripping cunt.

“cum for me, pretty girl.” he murmurs against you, his fingers brushing against parts of you that set your legs trembling. you try to resist at first, confusion tumbling through your brain, but with one more curl of his fingers you release, eyes rolled back, toes curling and body shaking. kakucho keeps his mouth on you, lost in the taste of your fluids until he feels you pushing on his shoulders.

“t-too much, kaku, s-stop,” you pant, tears pricking at your eyes. he pulls away, reluctantly, a sticky line of spit and cum trailing from your pussy to his lips follow him as he inches forward, suddenly crashing his lips into yours.

you taste yourself on his lips, melting into the kiss. he kisses you deep, before pulling away and peppering kisses onto your jawline and neck. it’s messy, wet, and you’re still dazed from your post orgasm high. it’s odd to think about how you were peacefully sleeping not too long ago and maybe this is still a dream? it certainly feels like it, your head light and fuzzy as kakucho kisses every inch of your face.

it’s not until you feel something blunt and hard rubbing in between your folds that you snap out of your dream-like state. he’s undressed himself now, his clothes mixing with yours as if he really did live there. as if you two really did belong to one another. glancing down, you see his cock, hard and angry, pre-cum glistening on his tip.

he lines himself up with your hole and you start with a “wait-“, but he doesn’t listen, slowly sinking into your cunt. you moan at the stretch, gripping the sheets underneath you. “kakucho, i told you-“

“i can’t fuckin’ wait! okay?” he snaps and you flinch, diverting your eyes from him. he grips your chin, digging into your skin and forcing you to look back at him. desperation fills not only his eyes but his voice, “do you know how long i’ve wanted this?”

he continues rambling as he pushes into you, “do you know how fucking hard it was to watch you every day knowing that you weren’t coming home to me? every fucking day where you’d turn away from me to look at someone else? to be with someone else?”

it’s the way he words it as if you really were seeing someone else, completely aware of his feelings for you or maybe it’s the vitriol laced in each word that sends a creeping blush up on your face. he sounded so mean, completely different from the tender tone you had known. honestly, you kind of liked it.

you claw at his arms, back arching off the bed as he sinks deeper. “you’re fucking mine,” he says through grit teeth as he bottoms out. “all fucking mine.” he presses his forehead to you, hips flush against yours. “fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

he pulls himself until he’s almost completely out and you whine at the loss. he mumbles, “i’ll give you what you want, pretty girl.” right before he slams himself back in.

you gasp as he starts fucking you, his pace brutal and unforgiving, you were his and he was going to make sure you knew that. pushing your knees up to your chest your eyes roll back again because he’s just so deep. the drag of your walls around his leaking cock is euphoric. he drinks in all of your mewls and moans as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you, love drunk on the sound of your voice.

“‘m close,” you rasp, looking up at him through glassy eyes. “p-please kaku, can i?”

“can you what baby? be specific.” he tuts, but his head is spinning and his heart is swelling.

“kaku, please, i wanna cum,” you babble, tongue lolling out of you slightly. he slows down to a full stop and you desperately try to grind back against him. “please! please, i want it!” you cry, tears starting to freely fall down your pretty face.

“yeah honey? you wanna cum on my cock?” he coos and you nod vigorously, “then tell me who you belong to, who gets to fuck you like this?”

“you! i belong to you, kaku, only you,” you sniffle up at him and he smiles, finally starting to move again. you wrap your arms around him as he angles himself so he can hit that spot that has you seeing stars with each thrust.

snaking a hand down to play with your clit, you sob out, as he rubs sticky circles. you’re so close the added stimulation has you clenching and dripping around him. “let go, princess.” he says, and you do, falling apart on him. legs kicking wildly, your pussy squeezes down on him and he follows you soon after, thick, hot seed spilling deep into your cunt.

he pushes himself up, leaning back and gently pulling out. wincing at the loss, you turn onto your side, curling up on yourself, too exhausted to care about the amount of cum not only leaking out of you but splashed onto your bed and thighs. your hair sticks to your sweaty forehead, you feel full and utterly spent.

you close your eyes, trying to calm your breathing as your body continues to twitch from post orgasm, little hiccups escaping your mouth here and there. the calm doesn’t last long and soon you feel a hand on your hip, flipping you onto your stomach. you wail, gripping the sheets, as you feel kakucho pull you back to slip into you, again.

“i wasn’t done with you,” he growls, leaning down to press his chest against your back. you can’t really talk much at this point, brain mushy and fuzzy, so you whimper out a small “mm.”

he wraps his arm around your neck, keeping you in a near chokehold as he pistons into you. the squelch of fluids and the slapping of skin fills the room once more. something about the way he fucks you is different now, his thrusts are sloppy, needy and his moans tickle your ear.

“i love you,” he chants, “i really fucking love you.” you don’t know what to say, pleasure taking over you again, so you ignore the little voice in the back of your head screaming to say it back and moan into his arm.

he moves his free hand down to hook behind your knee, sliding it up to spread your legs further. you try to keel up into him, one hand grabbing at arm curled around your neck, but he has you caged. you’re almost entirely sure you’re drooling over his arm. with your head tilted towards him, you glance up with glassy eyes, mouth open and panting.

you think he looks pretty like this, looking down at you, brows knit. you’re not sure if you love him, but you do love the way his dick slides in and out of your tight hole. “f-feels good,” you slur, “feels so, ah!, good,” you can feel your orgasm blooming again, heat bubbling in your gut.

“gonna cream on my cock again?” he grunts, thinking how after this there’s no way you wouldn’t be his wife… right?

“yeah, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl and kakucho’s thrusting his tongue into your mouth. the added stimulation is enough and you’re both unravelling. your eyes cross with the intensity of your orgasm, as your entire body shakes. he can feel you squeezing down and milking his cock as you moan into each other.

your head lolls onto the bed as kakucho’s grip loosens. he buries his face into your neck and you stay like this for a bit, heavy breaths and sticky bodies. he gently pulls out as he rolls over, one arm draped over his forehead.

you’re not sure you would look down even if you had the strength, your body limp. but you can feel it, you can feel his cum seeping out of your cunt. your bed is probably a mess.

you prop yourself up onto your elbows as best you can, “that… was the last time… for tonight, okay?” you pout. you'd probably actually pass out if he wanted to go again.

he moves his arm off, sitting up immediately. his look is incredulous, maybe even hopeful, “for tonigh-“

“or ever!” you interrupt, reaching for him and wincing. “oh, ow.” your entire body is aching so you opt for curling in on yourself again.

“… sorry,” he says sheepishly, one hand on his neck, “i didn’t mean to-“

“you don’t have to lie, i know you did.” you mumble, peeking up at him.

shame crashes over him and he gets up to get dressed, trying to not look at you. i fucked up, he thinks, until you grab his wrist and he looks down at you, a blush tinting his features. funny, as if he didn’t almost just fuck the life out of you.

you spread your arms, a blush on your face as well, “stay with me?” except it sounds more like a command than a question. and he does, getting back onto the bed and melting into your embrace.

he moves and positions you so that you’re resting with your head against his chest. he trails your lower back with his hand absently, making small shapes across your skin. it’s quiet, cozy, and there’s so many things you want to ask before you drift off into sleep, but he speaks first.

“could you do me a favor?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your head. you can’t see it, but there’s a smile gracing his face. you're warm and everything he wants.

“mm, sure?” you reply, sleepiness starting to overtake you.

“tell mikey you wanna stay at my place tomorrow.”