#as always I was too lazy to proofread

[fcthots]

Jason gets so pussydrunk and it doesn’t take much at all. Like you’re talking to him while sitting down in a dress. You don’t think anything of it, you’re just getting more comfortable, so you open your legs. His gaze drops as your legs uncross and his eyes never leave you. His face goes bright red. Without warning, he rushes forward and falls to his knees. He thumbs at the seams of your underwear. “Please.” When you nod your head, he tugs them down your legs reverently. He kisses all over your thighs, leaving you speechless. Unacceptable. “Keep talking, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I need it.” His voice is whiny and he makes no move to hide it. His kisses trail closer and closer to where you want him, but right before he gets there, you lace your fingers through his hair and tug him back, making him let out a sound that you wish you had recorded. He needs to beg for it. You can see the thought click in his clouded eyes. Despite not having touched your pussy yet, he’s breathless. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. Please. I’ll be so good for you.” You push his face into your cunt and you can feel the vibrations of his moan, you take it as an excuse to grind into his face. Call him your slut, he'd like it.

[gojosoups]

cw: smut, fluff, slight angst, husband gojo, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, nipple play, pregnancy, f!reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, not proofread cuz I'm lazy

a/n: idk what this is, but I posted it.. it's posted byeeee!! this has been rotting in my drafts since the beginning of the month... might write a full fic later, who knows.. definitely not me lol

Gojo Satoru is obsessed with your pregnancy boobs. 

Ever since you told him about your pregnancy, he’s been the most excited. More excited than your dear family.. and for all the wrong reasons too. 

Don’t get him wrong, Satoru is excited to be a father (and a bit terrified too)!!

The battles he once fought were now scars littered across his body, forever a reminder of his past. He never thought he would have lived his life long enough to settle down in a nice and cozy home with you or to have lived long enough to have a family with you, the love of his life.

And unfortunately for you, at the end of the day, your sweet and loving husband, Gojo Satoru, was a man. A man so deeply obsessed with his beautiful wife and her changing body… especially with the two fat mounds on her chest that seem to be growing as each day passes by and your delivery comes closer.

Your poor sensitive breasts, full and round of milk for your baby (and for your greedy husband.) The same soft breasts and leaking nipples that were always either popped into his mouth or played by his skilled fingers, never failing to make his precum-covered cock, rock hard.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[aomiiine]

TUTORING GONE SOUTH

A TUTORING SESSION … college student!caleb x fem!reader warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI (18+), pure filth ahead !! somewhat attraction to intelligence (vaguely STEM focused), established relationship (bf/gf), slightly perverted caleb, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk caleb, he makes you read smth while eating you out, not proofread wordcount. 1.6k (small rushed smth to get my creative juices flowing so this is just word-vomit//it was NOT supposed to be this long lol) taglist. @jellysix @tinycatharsis @wonuwuuuu @wonryllis @tsukkisukkii

A TUTORING SESSION WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND takes a turn for the better, or worse, when he finds your legs nudging his more than normal under the table. He finds your fascination with him just as interesting.

it was somewhere in the afternoon when you persuaded caleb to be your personal tutor. Well, not exactly ‘persuaded’, really, since he was more than willing to help you with anything. Including academics.

“You’re doing good so far.. Understanding it better after my explanation, pip-squeak?” Caleb asked, genuinely curious if you made any progress with his help. He knew some courses weren’t exactly for the weak, especially any mathematical or scientifical subjects. The one he was helping you with right now, physics. His specialty. It had to be considering his course.

“Yes, much better than my professor’s lectures. I should pay you for this, Caleb. How much for an hour?” You teased, peeling your attention from the book on the table to look at him with a playful smirk.

Caleb scoffed in response, turning his body to face you more than he already way. “Pay me? Yeah, why don’t you pay your beloved boyfriend with a kiss.” Caleb grinned mischievously at you, leaning in close to your face, clearly expectant for you to keep your word.

“As if,” you grumbled, head dipping back down to the thick book laid on the flat surface of the table, a familiar heat crawling to your cheeks. Your knee began to bounce traitorously beneath the table, unintentionally bumping his thigh beside you.

“Hm, you’re right.. A kiss isn’t enough,” he murmured, eyes observing every detail of you with a lazy smile all the while resting his temple on his knuckles. Caleb shifts, hand moving down to steady your thigh, slender fingers rubbing soothing circles over your knee as his palm caressed your skin through the skirt you wore. The contact made you freeze, brows furrowing in an attempt to ignore and concentrate.

“I always need more of your, princess.. doesn’t matter when, where or how.” Caleb’s hand travelled further up your inner thigh as he confessed his greed, squeezing the plump flesh he found beneath your skirt, the fabric lifting up high. The soft gasp you exhaled didn’t go unnoticed by his perceptive ears, your clear sign of pleasure responded with his fingers teasing the edges of your lacy panties.

“Caleb, I should be studying..” you muttered weakly, legs squirming at his invading fingers, playing with the seams of your panties with gentle tugs, letting it snap back onto your skin to leave a little sting. “Then keep on studying. Act like I’m not here, playing with your pretty pussy,” he murmured the last part hotly into your ear, being sure to lean in close enough that you’re acutely aware of his presence beside you.

“W-wait—too soon!” you yelped helplessly, grip on your pen tightening when his fingers reached beneath your panties, smearing your folds with slick arousal and impatiently delving two digits into your entrance the second he found it. Your head dipped once more, teeth biting on lip to stifle your pathetic moans.

Caleb didn’t say a word, admiring his effect on you as his fingers curled and thrusted in your wet heat, using the heel of his palm to grind against your sensitive clit. He smirked mischievously, violet eyes glinting with the same sentiment before he decided to tease you further, quickening the pace of his fingers long enough for you to feel yourself brought to edge.

He keeps on going even when your thighs quiver and part wide on your seat for him, hips rolling to meet his plummeting in desperation to chase your high—only to be denied of it.

“You son of a—aah, Caleb,” you whined, gaze hazy with lust now wide open and sharp to glare at your boyfriend sitting beside you undoubtedly amused. “Why’d you stop? I was so fucking close..”

“Because I wanted to,” he answered with a chuckle that grated on your nerves, making you more frustrated than you already were. He watched you struggle to recompose and grip your pen tighter, eyes searching for the exercise you were doing in attempt to continue. Yet, the moment you scribbled something down, his slender fingers slid out of you, digits glistening with your slick, making you hiss.

“Enough of this. Come up here.” Caleb withdrew his hand from your core, squeezing the flesh of your thigh before resting on your hip, fingers digging into your skin in a gentle pull.

you grumbled a curse beneath your breath before getting up from your seat, taking a few steps to stand in front of him after he pushed his chair back with a screech, making space for you without his hand leaving your body. He lifted the other arm, lifting you up with ease and setting you down on the edge of the table.

“What’re you planning?” Caleb’s hands moved to part your legs, letting you lean back on the table, a hand held behind you to support yourself up. “Nothing special.. Just a little playtime.” He said so with a smirk, voice filled with innuendo.

You huffed, eyes fixed on him as you felt his fingers hook over your panties, pulling it down and off swiftly. Just when you thought he’d dip his head down to your core, he stopped for a little something, reaching out for your textbook on the table and flipping the pages for a long yet familiar paragraph.

“Here. I want you to read this aloud, princess,” he instructed, a hint of authority in his tone. The side-long glance he made at you told you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer at all.

Caleb kept his eyes on you until you nodded, swallowing to dampen your suddenly dry throat. He hooked his arms under your thighs, fingers caressing your skin wherever he found it. His leaned down close to your bare pussy, blowing a hot breath against your folds to get a reaction—which he did—before his tongue darted out to lick a firm stripe up your entrance, delving into your folds with ease to find your slit. He buried his face deeper, nose grazing your throbbing clit the harder he ground himself into you.

You didn’t began reading straight away, moaning his name to adjust to his tongue invading your tight pussy with enthusiasm. “O-okay, so..” you exhaled heavily, head turned down to your shoulder to read the words of the text, stammering on your way with how skilfully his tongue curled deep inside your warm channel, pulling out to flick and suckle on your bundle of nerves.

“.. which leads to, ngh” you trailed off, eyes fluttering shut and mouth left agape in for a silent, breathless moan when Caleb’s hand trailed up from your thighs to your hips, fingers clinging onto your ass-cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Wrong line, princess.. You’re supposed to be on paragraph two, not three,” he groaned against your fluttering cunt, chin smeared with arousal as he lapped up your nectar with fervour, eager to swallow it all.

“Don’t think I don’t have that text memorised, baby,” he laughed lowly, desire filled eyes glancing up at your crumbling self, barely able to focus on the task he gave you. “So you better read it right if you wanna cum,” he warned with a sharp slap to your rear, revelling in the way you jolted at the impact, giving him the opportunity to ravish you further.

“Yes, please, Caleb, I wanna cum—holy fuck,” you moaned whorishly, head thrown back in pure, unadulterated pleasure when the slick muscle of his tongue fucked your insides rapidly, bringing you inches closer to your impending orgasm. The text was long forgotten by you for the moment, until he slowed agonisingly slow again, raising a silent demanding brow up at you. It seemed like your begging could only do so much.

You bit back a curse before turning down for the book beside you again, picking up where you left off. Caleb, ever the so-closeted-sadist, chucked shamelessly against your aching pussy, savouring the way your walls fluttered around his tongue while you struggled to read, words tripping as you went and sped up your little presentation so he could finally let you cum.

Reaching the last syllable, you shifted your attention back to the ruthless assault he made on your clit, finally able to close your eyes and let him lead you to sexual bliss. A hand of yours drifted from the edge of the table to tangle your fingers inside his dark locks, grabbing a fistful to push him further, deeper, in your depths, taking away his privilege to suck in some air.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.. my girl needs to cum, doesn’t she? ‘fcourse she does,” he growled softly between fleeting moans, mouth alternating between your clit and your slit, obsessed on the thought of making you climax. Your moans and cries reached a pitch, nails raking over his scalp gently as your pleasure reached a crescendo, toes curling and legs quivering like a knot ready to snap.

With one last nibble on your sensitive nub, your orgasm came in like a tidal wave, overwhelming your every nerve. Caleb stayed in place all the way, waiting for your twitches to stop and helping you bask in the afterglow. Panting with a heaving chest, you collapsed back onto the table, hair sprawled with beads of sweat falling down your temple, skin sheened with sweat.

“I’ll help you relax for a while, okay? Then, we’ll get back to our study session. I’m not done getting your mind in shape yet,” he grinned drunkenly, licking his lips for all the rest of your juices that he swallowed in thirsty gulps.

[deathbxnny]

Arcane women accidentally confessing to you. | Sevika, Jinx, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader

This is very self-indulgent, so enjoy.<3

Content: pre-season 2 because I want to be happy rn, slight angst if you squint, fluff, accidental confessions, maybe ooc??, cursing, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》SEVIKA

She was resting at the last drop with you during some downtime in between missions. One hand lingered on your hip whilst her metallic one held onto her cigar, eyes focused on the pocker game she was playing with a couple of Silco's other henchmen. She always kept you close this way, a clear sign of who you belonged to despite never having said a word about it yet. It was a mutual understanding only you could have, and so she didn't think a confession was necessary.

Until today, it seemed.

You were secretly helping her cheat a little and eventually told her the winning move, which earned her a large sum of money. Letting out a smug laugh at everyone's angered and defeated glares, she gave you a lazy grin. "Thanks, sweetheart. This is why I love you." She hummed to you, smoke exhaling from her dark lips, before she froze ever so slightly. Well, it shouldn't be that much of a surprise to either of you, and yet she couldn't help but chuckle at your own stunned face.

Looking at the men around her, she threw some poker chips towards them, clearly asking for another round. She wasn't the type to get flustered or shy anyways, so her moving on like nothing happened was on brand.

The only acknowledgment you got, however, was the hand on your hip tightening.

》JINX

She has a hard time hiding her feelings for you due to her rather energetic and extremely clingy nature. But there is still a clear distance between you two that she's too scared to cross. It was a deep fear of ruining everything she had with you in case her confession went wrong. She'd rather you consider her your best friend for life if it meant for you to stay at her side. She didn't want to lose more people after all. And yet, as fate has it, she eventually lost herself in a good and happy moment with you.

You were tinkering on some projects in her hideout whilst listening to music. Her head was leaning against your shoulder as her eyes traced your focused gaze. Jinx felt so content and at peace in that moment that she couldn't stop the words that spilled out of her mouth. "I love you." It took her a second to realise what happened, and her body was quick to flinch away from you. You kept her in place, however, with a free hand placed against her head. "Hey, it's okay. I love you too. I'm not leaving." You reassured her quickly with a smile, one that made her heart skip a beat.

She may not see herself as deserving of you, but she's glad to have you at her side anyway. Hopefully forever.

》CAITLYN

Caitlyn was good at hiding her emotions from you. In fact, she had refused to tell you in fear of breaking the professionalism you two had and, most importantly, your friendship that she cherished deeply. And so, she was very careful not to reveal a single thing... until her confidence betrayed her and caused her to slip up.

You two were reviewing a new case together, and whilst she wasn't paying attention, she accidentally slid you her diary over. It unfortunately looked too similar to her work notebook, something she only realised the moment you opened it and froze in surprise. She may have scribbled your name all over it. She may have childishly drawn hearts around your name. She may have made it awfully clear that she loved you. And it made her wonder if there was a god out there that hated her deeply.

"... My apologies. Please ignore that-" "-Haha, I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one who did this!" You let out a soft laugh before pulling out your notebook and showing her similar pages to her own, just with her name written all over them. Her face was flushed from how flustered and embarrassed she was, but alas, she too couldn't help and chuckle at how silly this all was. At least you felt the same.

》VI

It's not like she didn't want to confess her feelings to you. She just didn't know how! Her confession should sweep you right off your feet in her mind, and yet nothing she came up with seemed good enough. Vi hoped that her flirting would get the point across, but she lacked the confidence to go any further than compliments. She just didn't want you to think differently of her and therefore kept her distance for the most part regarding the subject. That is if she could keep it in for lobger than she already has. She always felt so strongly about others, after all.

So, during a little hang out session in a bar somewhere in Zaun, she attempted to find the courage to tell you how she felt. Whilst she went off to go and get you a drink first, however, a drunken man showed up at your side and started flirting you in a rather uncomfortable way. You tried making it clear that you weren't interested, but as he went to grab your arm, a hand slammed in between you two onto the bar table. "Hey, I think they told you no, asshole." "Who the hell are you?" The man barked back, yet Vi didn't back down and simply blocked you from his view with her body. "I'm their girlfriend, now fuck off." She hissed, and the man just rolled his eyes before walking off grumbling.

Silence filled the space in between you two until you chuckled softly. "Girlfriend, huh? I like the sound of that." You hummed, secretly trying to ease her embarrassed mind, that quickly recovered at your words with a sly grin. "You do?" You mirrored her smile with a nod. "Very much so. I'm glad we think alike."

[slutla]

THRU THE PHONE ! | MARK GRAYSON X FEM READER

warnings: 18+, nsfw, masturbation (m), perv! mark (?), he jerks off 2 ur voice basically but is sweet abt it lol. brat reader (?), reader doesn’t know about what he’s doing, voice kink ? cuz he likes ur voice (?) phone sex but its one sided lowk. usage of baby & angel as pet names. fluff.

summary: you miss your boyfriend in the quiet moments. he misses you too, but with a restlessness that says your absence lingers a little heavier on his chest.

an: minors, ageless & blank blogs dni. mark is so adorbs need him bad asf + short drabble + this isnt proofread and some parts r meant to be italicized n aren’t cuz im 2 lazy

“I miss you.”

You roll your eyes, though the words send a dull ache through your chest. Turning onto your side, the white bedsheets rustle softly beneath you, cool against your skin. The dim glow of your phone screen casts faint shadows across the room. You bring the device closer to your ear, pressing it against your cheek. You let out a loud sigh, making sure he hears it.

It’s nighttime, and the wind howls through the window. The air isn’t cold, just restless. You’re nestled in your cozy bed, wrapped in warmth, as the soft light from your phone screen and the moon illuminate your room. You miss him. A lot.

“It’s not fair,” you huff, the agitation clear in your voice. “He has a bunch of different superheroes he can call on, so why does it always have to be you, Mark?”

Mark listens carefully to your tone, gently sitting up in his own bed as the discomfort settles in. All he longs for is to be in your room, wrapped around you in the warmth of your bed, holding you close. His back rests against the headboard, the cool wood pressing into him as his long legs stretch out across the bed, sprawling comfortably yet aimlessly, the blankets slightly tangled around his feet.

“You know how Cecil can be, baby,” he says softly, bringing the phone closer to his ear. He falls quiet for a moment, his voice gentle when he continues, “I promise, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll only be here for a week, and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”

You pout, your glossy bottom lip quivering. “I really miss you, you know?”

Your voice is soft, a little tired, and so, so sweet, it curls around his ribs and settles into his chest. So fucking sweet, he thinks, breath hitching. Every syllable is a lullaby, every sigh a prayer.

And you—God, you’re perfect. Every strand of hair, every flutter of your lashes, every little thing that makes you, you is something sacred to him. At least in his eyes, you’ve always been something unreal, something he could never stop wanting.

“I know, baby. I know,” he breathes, voice low, almost shaky.

His actions are nothing short of shameful, downright lewd, but how could he help it? You’re just intoxicating, too intoxicating, slipping under his skin like warm sugar, making a mess of him without even trying.

Rigid and pulsing, limp and trembling in his grip—there’s a rawness to him that clings to the air, your voice echoing through his haze. Sweat beads on his skin, and need coils in his chest; he’s caught in the pull of you. here he is, undone and aching—stroking his leaking slit with a shaky hand, your presence burning behind his half-shut eyes.

“I love you, angel,” he murmurs, voice thick and slow, tracing lazy circles over his flushed, sensitive tip. It’s a fleeting softness tangled in the mess of him, a thread of devotion he clings to amidst the haze. The moment drips with want—his fingers slick and unsteady, chasing you in every shuddering motion.

Without thinking, you murmur back, “You can’t ‘I love you’ your way out of this, silly,” tugging the covers tighter around you, a shield against the quiet. Your voice dances with a teasing lilt, light but edged with promise—“I’m going to hold you accountable when you get back.” The words hang playful yet firm, a thread of anticipation stitching through the warmth curling inside you.

He lets out a chuckle, low and breathy, dripping with a charm that hums through the air.

It’s almost laughable how effortlessly you unravel him—his hands sliding up and down his length, slick with wet, squelching sounds that fill the space. He’s half-startled you haven’t caught on yet, a flicker of surprise in his haze, but deep down he figures it’s better this way. Right now, tangled in this mess of want, isn’t the moment for you to know.

The tension winds tight in his gut, a slow, burning sensation ready to snap. His grip tightens as your voice drapes over him—soft, electric, setting every nerve alight. Every word you sigh into the receiver is a spark, stoking the heat pooling low in his stomach.

And then a ragged groan spills from his lips as he tips over the edge, pleasure crashing over him in waves, hot and messy against his hand. His body trembles, muscles slackening as he sinks back against the headboard, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

A lazy grin tugs at his lips, still dazed, still drunk off you.

“Trust me, doll,” he murmurs, voice thick. “I’m counting on it.”

[itoshiierae]

HELLOO !!! Soo umm I would like to request for what drives them insanely horny + their dirtiest fantasy with Aiku , Sae , Nagi and Kaiser !!! Thank youu in advance if you do decide to do this req :)))

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: oliver aiku, sae itoshi, nagi seishiro & michael kaiser (x f!reader)

ᡣ𐭩 cw: 18+ minors dni, all characters are aged up, nsfw, possessive behavior, breeding kink, cursing, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, degradation + praise kink (not proofread!)

OLIVER AIKU ᯓᡣ𐭩

✶ what drives him insanely horny:

you in your workout gear, especiallyyy in tight shorts or leggings. you walk past him, towel slung over your neck, with your skin still warm from exertion— and that’s it. now he’s unable to focus. at this point he’s gripping his phone, but he’s not actually reading anything. his jaw clenches and his breath stutters seeing your ass bounces just a little too much with every step. and the way your sports bra rides up makes him groan under his breath like it physically hurts to hold back.

“…fuck. baby, c’mere for a sec.”

he’ll pull you onto his lap without asking. his palm presses firm against your lower belly, holding you still while his lips graze your ear: “you trying to get me hard in public or should i bend you over the treadmill next time??”

✶ his dirtiest fantasy:

filming you while he fucks you. this man literally wants a whole collection of private tapes; you on your knees with your face all ruined and pleading with his cum still dripping out of you.

bonus: he watches them when you’re away, hand wrapped around his cock, “shitttt you’re mine, baby... always.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

SAE ITOSHI ᯓᡣ𐭩

✶ what drives him insanely horny:

one word, attitude.

“you’re not the boss of me, sae.” he barely reacts, just drags his eyes down your body like he’s bored: “… oh i’m not??? then why do your legs spread the second i touch you?” he sits back in his chair like he owns the air you breathe. eyes dragging over you lazily, like he’s already deciding in his head which position will make you beg or will make you cry first.

✶ his dirtiest fantasy:

he wants to fuck you while you’re on the phone with someone who has no idea what’s happening. maybe it’s your friend, or even a colleague??? and then he’ll slide in from behind, with his hand around your throat, whispering things like:

“talk normally… unless you want them to hear how wet you are.”

as he buries himself to the hilt again and again. each thrust deeper than the last, forcing your body to tremble around him while you struggle to keep your voice steady on the phone. “that’s it… bite your tongue, baby. just pretend everything’s fine.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

NAGI SEISHIRO ᯓᡣ𐭩

✶ what drives him insanely horny:

you wearing his clothes. especially his jersey with no bra on, while walking around the apartment like you don’t know he’s watching. he’ll act sleepy, but the second you sit on his lap??? you’ll feel it. his cock already half-hard through his grey sweats.

“you smell like me… wanna stay like this…”

he hooks your underwear to the side, slides in, and holds himself there; just grinding with that lazy hunger in his eyes almost as if the only thing keeping him sane right now is the way your walls flutter around him.

✶ his dirtiest fantasy:

breeding. there’s just something about the thought of you round and swollen with his child that drives him insane. he wants to fall asleep with his cock still inside you & the warmth of your body wrapped around him and he’ll mumble:

“keep me in… ‘s where i belong.”

“wanna see you round and soft… full of me.”

and if you try to pull away??? he just holds you tighter. “no… not done yet.” as he hums against your shoulder, like this is just another nap he’s easing into.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

MICHAEL KAISER ᯓᡣ𐭩

✶ what drives him insanely horny:

your jealousy!!! you getting pouty when someone else flirts with him, crossing your arms and then going quiet. ohhhh he lives for that. he’ll pull you aside, presses you against a wall with his breath hot against your neck:

“damn baby…. now that look on your face??”

“fuck…. it makes me wanna mark you all over.”

he’ll leave hickeys where everyone else can see. and in a way, that’s his way of saying you’ll never once have to doubt his loyalty.

✶ his dirtiest fantasy:

he wants you plugged up and ruined but in public. maybe a remote-controlled vibrator or maybe a plug with his initials. either way, no one else knows but he does. and the whole time, he’s whispering filth against your ear:

“dripping already?? good girl. don’t you dare cum until i say so.”

and when you finally get home???? he makes you beg to take it off. “on your knees. now beg like the desperate little slut you were all day.”

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[leclerc-hs]

romantic chocolates? - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader summary: in which you don't read the label on the chocolates OR you and max accidentally eat aphrodisiac chocolates and get too horny on vacation. warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. all smut. degradation, spitting, fingering, dirty talk, filthy filthy, slight breeding kink, mean!max, edging, language...NOT PROOFREAD (might be some typos or things that don't make sense lol), cute ending word count: ~3.9k author's note: SURPRISE!!!! ITS A DAY EARLY ;) this is a continuation to an anon request!!! i wrote a cl16 AND ln4 version of this. UP NEXT: OP81

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You should’ve read the label before eating them.

Some little box tucked in the corner of the welcome basket, tucked beneath bottles of wine and a note from one of Max’s sponsors. You didn’t think about it twice. Why would you? 

Just ripped it open with sun-warm fingers and let a piece melt on your tongue. Then fed Max some. Let his lips wrap around your fingers. Slow, tongue brushing against your knuckle. Eyes locked on you.

Humming at how good it was.

You laughed. And neither of you thought twice about it.

You were both stretched out on the daybed, high up in the cliffs, where no one could see you but the ocean. Linen cushions under you, a light breeze, and the ocean humming.

Your body is still damp from the pool. Bikini clinging to your skin tightly. And Max is lying next to you in nothing but a dark pair of swim trunks. Waistband pushed dangerously low on his hips. One leg bent. One arm behind his head. Comfy. Happy.

The way he always is when its just the two of you.

You’d been talking about something. Nothing important. Just a lazy conversation that happens between the stretches of silence.

He’s half-laughing, fingers ghosting down your arm every once in a while.

About thirty minutes go by, and something in you shifts.

It’s not all at once. Slow. A subtle ache in your belly. Your bikini bottoms sticky. A wetness you hadn’t noticed before. Thighs clenching automatically.

Max lets out a breath next to you. Like something in him changed too.

You don’t look over right away. Because the ache doesn’t stop.

It spreads like a fucking wildfire.

Low and deep and pulsing between your legs. As if your body decided to speed past the arousal and straight into desperation. 

You try to cross your legs, needing some sort of pressure. But it doesn’t even help in the slightest bit. If anything, it makes it worse.

Then you heard him.

A quiet, “Fuck.” 

You turn your head.

He was still laying on his back. But no longer relaxed. In fact he was ramrod straight. Jaw tight. Eyes shut. A hand still behind his head, but the other now fisting the edge of the cushion.

Swim trunks tight over his hips.

And lower….

You swallowed hard. 

He turns to look at you, slowly opening his eyes. 

“What the fuck was in that chocolate?” He asks, voice rough. Low. 

You blink. “I don’t…Uh,…I didn’t read the…”

His gaze drops to your legs. The way your thighs were pressed together like you could stop it. Like you weren’t fucking dripping.

You try to play it cool. Try to make it seem like your cunt isn’t clenching on nothing. Again and again. Begging to be filled.

He feels his cock twitch at the sight of it. Your thighs pressed together like some common whore.

“You’re squirming.”

You breathe in. Swallow.

“I’m just…I’m just hot.”

He hums. But it’s not kind.

And he watches the little shift in your breathing. The twitch of your muscles.

His cock twitches in his swim suit.

And he smirks.

“Just a bit of chocolate and what?” He laughs. “Now you’re lying here thighs pressed together like a fucking slut.”

You flinch. Eyes widening. And he grins even bigger.

“This what gets you wet now?” His voice teasing. “Candy?”

“Max…”

“No. Go on. Tell me.” His eyes trail down your chest, landing on your hips. “Is your pussy this wet because of the candy? Or is it because you let me suck it off your fingers like a good little whore.”

You suck in a sharp breath. Hips jerking. 

He laughs. Mean.

“Oh, you liked that, yeah?”

You nod. Whimpering.

He moves closer. Fingers reaching for your skin, pulling your legs apart just a little bit, trailing up your thigh, stopping right near your core.

“Bet if I pulled your bottoms to the side, you’d be fucking leaking onto the daybed.”

And its not a question. It’s a statement.

He’s on his side now. Watching you, propped on his elbow, cock visibly straining against the thin fabric.

“Poor, liefje.” He coos. Mockingly. “Trying so hard to act normal. Bet your pussy’s fucking pulsing.”

You moan, barely. Head falling back. Chest rising.

“Go on, pretty. Rub your thighs together all you want. Let that needy little cunt grind against nothing. See if that makes you feel any better.”

“You’re being mean.”

His smile twists. Darker. Meaner.

“You should’ve read the fucking label.”

You don’t speak. You can’t.

“I trusted you, you know?” He mutters. “Handed me that chocolate like it was a fucking game.”

His jaw clenches.

“And now I’m sitting here with my cock fuckin’ aching…and you’re…” He glances at your thighs again for a quick second. “Dripping on the cushions like a fucking whore.”

He shifts, kneeling beside you now. “And the worst part?” He leans toward you. Noses almost touching. “It’s your fault.”

His fingers still rest on your thigh. Squeezing it. Trailing to the fabric of your bikini with two fingers, dragging it. Slow.

Until you’re exposed.

“Oh, fuck me.” He groans. “You’re soaked. Fuckin’ soaked, schatje.”

And he laughs. It’s almost cruel. 

“Dripping. All from what? A piece of chocolate and some dirty talk?”

You whimper, hips twitching as the cool air breezes against your hot core.

“You look like you’d let me fuck you right here.”

And you whimper. Pushing your head deeper against the cushion behind you. Sunglasses pushed up on your head.

“Not even trying to hide it, huh?” He spits. “Too fucking dumb from being so horny, yeah? Can’t even keep your hips still.”

You nod. A lot. Fast. It’s almost pathetic.

“You gonna admit it?”

You blink at him. “Admit what?”

“That you’re clenching around nothing. Aching for my fingers. For my cock.”

He leans in closer.

“Say it.” He demands. “Or I won’t touch you.”

Your voice quivers, “Max, please…I’m so wet.”

He raises a brow, smirk growing. “Sorry…what was that?”

You feel your cheeks redden. “I’m wet,” your voice is louder. “Fuck. Max…I’m fucking aching for you.” You sound frustrated. Annoyed almost.

And his smile is wicked. “There’s my liefje.”

“I should make you fuckin’ beg. Keep you like this for hours…because this…” He slips two fingers between your folds. “Is what I have to deal with.”

You jolt from his touch. Whimpering.

“Sensitive already, hm?” He grunts. “Fuck, I could probably make you cum just by spitting on you. Needy little cunt.”

And you try to close your legs. Clench them.

But he grips your thighs and forces them to stay open. Rough.

“Keep them open, schatje.”

His voice is so mean, but it only makes you ache more. “I’m so fucking hard that it’s making me fucking sweat. Can feel my cock leaking.”

Your breath hitches as he sinks his fingers into you.

“You know,” he says, like its a normal conversation. Like his fingers aren’t curling in your cunt. “We’re supposed to be relaxing.”

And his one arm gestures to the view. The pool. The cute villa. The ocean.

“Summer break. No work. No races.” His fingers curl just a bit more. And your mouth falls slack. “Was supposed to be quiet. Easy. Nap in the sun, maybe fuck you slow after dinner.”

He clicks his tongue, eyes dragging over you. The way your tits rise. The way your thighs are twitching. You’re a mess. And he looks fucking furious about it.

“And instead I’ve got this.” And pushes in another finger just to prove a point. It has you jolting.

“Squirming on this cushion like a needy little bitch who can’t sit still.” He huffs. “Legs twitching and pussy leaking in the middle of the day.”

You whimper. Lip quivering.

“My dick’s been leaking since you moaned the first time.”

And you whimper. Quietly. But he hears it. His jaw clenches.

“Max…”

“No. Don’t ‘Max’ me.” He cuts you off. “You did this.”

He leans in closer. Fingers moving with a more hurried pace.

“You fed me that chocolate.” His voice drops. “Now I’ve got my cock pulsing in my suit, you’re cunt’s crying for me, and you expect me to be fucking calm?”

His voice is shaking. Fingers twitching.

Your walls squeeze against his fingers. And he hisses in a sharp breath of air.

“Have to spend my afternoon with a fuckin’ brat whining for my cock.” He places a soft bite on your shoulder. “Like shoving my cock in you is the only thing that will help your poor cunt calm down.”

He can feel your cunt squeezing him. See the rapid rise and fall of your chest. Your cheeks redden. All the tell tale signs. 

And he pulls his fingers away. And you cry out from the loss of his touch. 

“You don’t get to come yet.” His voice is fucking flat. “Not until I say so. Not until you earn it.”

He presses his fingers back to your cunt, slow. Teasing. “Should rub this needy cunt for hours. Edge you over and over until you’re sobbing for it.”

You let out a small sob, hips grinding against his finger tips.

And he pulls his fingers away almost instantly.

“No.” He grunts.

Presses his soaked fingers to your lips. “Open.”

And you do. 

He groans as you suck his fingers. His hips twitching just slightly. Eyes not leaving from his fingers in your mouth.

“That’s it, pretty.”

He palms himself with his other hand, groaning. His eyes darkening. Almost feral looking.

He leans toward your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

Presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. 

Lips hovering over you ear. Soft.

“Now say thank you.”

Your narrow your eyes. Fucked out of your mind. Glaring at him.

“Let me hear it. You’re gonna lie here like a good girl, and thank me for taking care of your soaking needy pussy while I’m leaking into my fucking suit."

“Th…thank you, Max.” You whimper. “For taking care of my needy pussy while you’re supposed to be relaxing.” You manage to get out. Sarcastically. Frustrated.

And his cock twitches.

He leans over you now, on his knees, jaw tight. Slipping his hand back down between your thighs. Dragging his fingers between your folds again. Not pushing in. Like he’s testing you.

“Ohhh, liefje.” He clicks his tongue. “you’re lucky I haven’t fucked the attitude out of you yet.”

The air is hot against your skin. 

“Messy little thing,” He grunts. Watching his fingers move. Pressing the pads of his fingers against you. Still not pushing in.

Your hips twitch. 

“You want it?” He tilts his head. “Want my fingers inside?”

You nod. Begging. Eyes pleading.

And he laughs. But it sounds like he’s struggling. Like he’s using every ounce of control to not push his suit down and fuck you into the cushion.

“My cock’s fucking throbbing, schatje. Feels so heavy.” He mutters. “You have no idea how bad I want to be inside you.”

And he pushes two fingers in. You moan. Back arching. Loud. 

And he’s locked the fuck in.

Watching your pussy clench around him. Groaning.

“Fuckin’ squeezing me.”

He moves them, slow. Dragging. 

“Y’hear that?” He grunts. “Pussy’s fucking crying for me.”

And you’re gripping the cushion. Gasping. The heat in your stomach building fast.

And he leans over you. Mouth at your ear again. One hand putting his weight onto your thigh.

“Don’t you fucking come.”

Your hips move. You’re so close. Right there.

He drags his thumb to your clit. Circles it a few times. Slow. Fucking brutal.

“You wanna?” He huffs. “Wanna come on my fingers? Soak me like a fucking slut?”

You’re panting. “Please….Max…”

“I know.” He slows his fingers. “I know you need it.”

And he speeds his fingers up. Pushing in and out of you deeper. Curling his fingers.

And right as your body seizes up. Your orgasm about to rip through you. 

He pulls his fucking hand away.

And you scream.

Twitching. Clit pulsing.

“Fuckin’ hell…Look what you’re doing to me.” He palms his cock, the fabric stained with a wet spot. And he’s so hard.

His head is cocked. Eyes blown. Fingers covered in your slick. 

He grabs your bikini top. Fisting the fabric and shoves it up. Nipples so hard from how worked up you’re feeling. And they bounce free. 

He groans.

He palms himself again. Once.

Then reaches greedily, pinches your nipples between two fingers. And you whimper.

“So fucking pretty…look at you…” He whispers, before leaning down and bites.

Not a hard bite. Just enough to make your back arch when his mouth closes around your nipple. Sucking. Tongue swirling. Teeth grazing.

And his other hand returns to your folds. Pushing into your cunt with two fingers. Deep.

He sucks harder on your nipple, groaning against you. 

Curling his fingers just right.

And you’re squirming. 

“You like this, huh?” He hisses. “Like when I shove your top up and suck your tits like they’re mine?”

“Ye…yeah,” You are gasping.

He groans, pressing kisses to your breasts. “You sound fucking wrecked.”

And he looks kind of calm. His brows are focused like he’s studying. Smirking. Licking his lips.

“Y’gonna come already?” 

You nod. And he slows down his movements instantly.

“You think you deserve it?” He pulls his fingers out, slow. Holding them up. “Look at this fuckin mess.”

His fingers are glistening. Covered in you.

He brings them to his mouth. Sucks them fuckin’ clean. Moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, schatje.” He pulls his fingers out with a ‘pop’. “Tastes so good.”

Max moves lower onto the day bed, almost laying down on the day bed.

And then his fingers are back. Pressing into you so filthy that you’re arching. Shoving them deep. Hard. Still slow.

“You wanna come?” He picks up the pace. “Say it.”

You gasp. “Max…please.”

“Not good enough.” And he’s pressing his thumb to your clit. Rough. “Tell me what you want.”

You’re grinding into his hand. Begging for more. Aching.

“I…plea…Max. I need….” You’re breathless. His fingers not giving up. Curling inside of you. “I need to..”

And he laughs.

“Need?” He repeats. “No. You fucking want it. You want to come all over my fingers like a pathetic whore, yeah?”

And the heat in your stomach hurts. 

And he leans in. Breath on your cheek. “Don’t.”

Your body jerks against his, about to come.

He pulls his fingers out again.

And you fucking scream.

“Y’gonna come if I put my mouth on you?”

And your breath hitches at the bare thought of it. Eyes glassy. A whimper pushing past your lips.

“Too fucking bad.”

But then he drops between your thighs. And licks.

One heavy drag of his tongue against you. And you careen forward with a sharp cry before falling back down to the cushion. 

He groans against you. Hands digging into the skin of your thighs as he opens you wider. As he buries his face into your cunt. Tongue lapping you greedily.

And Max?

He’s grinding himself against the cushion of the day bed. Rutting himself against the bed. Cock dripping against the fabric.

And he’s fucking panting.

“Fuck, baby… fuck. Fuck. I can’t…” His hips are jerking into the cushion. Rutting into it. Desperately. Messy. 

Nose nudging your clit. Burying his face into you like he’s feasting.

His hips jerk harder against the cushion, and then he’s fucking coming. His body shuttering as he watches you suck his fingers win. 

“Fucking fuck…” His voice is wrecked. “Go on. Come for me…you deserve it. Fuck.”

His thumb drags against your clit again. And your back arches. Thighs clamping around him.

“Oh fuck..fuck…Max.” 

“Yeah,” he’s groaning. “That’s it.”

His mouth sucks over your clit. Hard. 

And you crash. Pussy clamping down against his fingers. Pulsing. And body trembling.

But he doesn’t give you any time to recover.

He’s breathing hard and his cock is still hard in his soaked suit. 

He grabs your hips. Voice cracked. “Get on top of me.”

And you blink. Dazed. “What?”

But he’s already pulling you against him as he sits down. Dragging you over him. 

“I need to be inside you,” voice dark. 

And when he see’s you hesitate, not because you don’t want to, but because your head is spinning. His voice comes out harsh. “Now, schatje.”

You snap back. Don’t hesitate. 

“You’re gonna ride me…pull my fucking cock out and sit on me.”

Your fingers push the waistband of his swimsuit lower…and fucking christ. His cock smacks his stomach. Flushed. Red. Leaking.

You wrap your hand around it, and he groans. Head tilted back.

And you sink down on him. Slowly. Trying to take him inch by inch. Tease him a little. 

And it isn’t until he’s fully bottomed out in you that he lets out a laugh.

And you feel everything. 

You rock your hips only once and Max fucking loses it.

Snaps.

Hands digging into your hips as his rises off the cushions, just a little bit. His grip is bruising. 

“Move.” He spits. “Ride me. I don’t fucking care how…just do it.” He’s demanding. Mean. Feral.

And you start to move. Circling your hips. As you pant. Head leaning against his shoulder.

“Fuck…fuckin’ look at you,” He huffs. 

You moan. Too loud.

“Shut the fuck up.”

And he slaps your butt. Hard. The sound echoing.

He slams up into you, and you cry out. Eyes rolling.

“Pathetic,” he grunts. “Feel how deep I am, huh? Like my personal fuck toy.”

Your thighs are shaking. Clit dragging against his pelvis as you start bouncing on him. 

It’s messy and soooo desperate.

And Max just laughs at you. His neck flushed red.

“I can’t…fuck. I can’t hold…” He bucks up into you. “Too fucking tight, so wet…ride me harder. Please, baby.”

And you do.

You fuck yourself on him harder. Faster. Slamming down on his cock with every single bounce. And you can barely breathe.

You’re babbling. Moaning. Panting. Cursing his name into his shoulder.

“Come with me,” He begs. “Fuckin’ come with me, baby…please…C’mon..”

And you break.

You snap around him.  Orgasm ripping through you. Clamping down on his cock so hard that Max shouts. And he spills inside of you.

And its so much.

Hot, sticky spurts pushing deep as he jerks his hips. Your name falling out of his mouth with pleas.

You collapse on to his chest. Trembling.

And Max?

He’s still inside you. 

Doesn’t soften. Not even the slightest amount.

Somehow still fucking hard.

And your legs are shaking as he flips you over. Hands gripping your hips like he’s about to destroy you.

You barely manage a breath before he’s shoving your knees into your chest, folding you. One hand pressing into the back of your thigh, holding them there. Your soaked cunt spilling his come down onto the cushion beneath you.

The other wraps around your throat. Pressing.

And he looks like he wants to eat you the fuck alive.

Controlling.

His cock twitches as he presses it back to your entrance. Slamming into you.

And you sob. Back arching. So full and wet.

“Still so tight.” His fingers squeeze your throat just a little bit harder.

And your mouth falls open with a loud moan. 

And he spits right into it. Hitting your tongue, dribbling down your lip. And you don’t even have to think about it…you swallow. Lick your lips for more.

And Max moans as if he just came again.

“My god, you’re fucking mine.”

And he fucks into you harder. Relentless. Like he needs to chase this feeling. 

“Fuckin’ look at this mess. Hear how wet you are?” Your hands fist the sheets.

“You’re so loud baby. It’s disgusting. This isn’t how a good girl fucks.”

And he slaps your thigh.

You’re panting. Gasping against the grip of his hand. And he feels every breath through his hand.

He leans in close. Voice fucking filthy.

“This is how you wanted it, huh?” Wanted to get me all fucked up.”

He’s cruel. Pounding into you with such urgency as you nod. Lips still parted.

He rubs the pad of his thumb against your jaw. “My filthy fuckin’ slut. Letting me choke you. Spit on you. Pounding you like I’m trying to fuck a baby into you.”

And your walls clench down on him. Hard.

And he snarls. “Ohhh, you like that?” He tilts his head a little. “Want me to fill you up? Stuff you so full. Get you swollen with my baby.”

And you’re twitching now. Moaning. Head tilted back deep into the cushions.

And his hand leaves your throat. Only for a second. Only to slap your cheek. Once. It’s light, but its enough to make your eyes snap back open.

“Eyes on me, schatje.”

You’re dazed. Cheeks flushed red.

“C’mon give it to me.” Max urges you. 

And you instantly do. 

Your orgasm ripping through you again. Spasming around him. Squeezing him so tight that Max loses it.

He slams in three times. Then groans like he’s been punched. Spilling into you. 

You’re leaking. Can barely breathe. And he’s panting above you. Shoulders shaking. 

And then he brushes your jaw again. Leaning forward and kisses you.

Soft.

So soft. You whimper against his lips.

And he kisses you slow. Messy. Breathing in your whimpers.

And then he’s kissing you deeper. Like he’s hungry.

Slipping a hand into your hair, the other still at your jaw. His tongue licks into you. And you sigh into him. Melting.

He groans into you.

“Can’t believe how fucking good you feel.” He mutters. “Unreal, baby.”

You whimper. Too sensitive. And he kisses you again. Quick. Soft.

“You okay?” He brushes his noses against you. Kissing the corner of your mouth. Then your cheek. Jaw. And then under your ear.

You nod. Slowly.

“Good,” He grins. “Because I’m not pulling out yet.”

Then he quiets. Smiles. A real smile. Like something has settled in his bones.

His fingers trace your cheek. Caring.

“You’re gonna marry me.”

You gasp. But you’re not surprised

He kisses your cheek. The crinkled skin by your eyes. Your forehead. Still inside you. Holding you tight.

“You’re gonna wear my ring,” he mutters. “Take my name. And be my fucking wife.”

Your hear pounds in your chest.

“Would you want that?” His voice is low. Hushed against your lips. “Want to belong to me? Forever?”

You nod. A small whimper. “Yes.”

“Say it.” Its a little demanding. But then his eyes soften. “Please?”

“I want to be yours…” Your voice is soft. “Forever, Max.”

He groans, pushing himself in closer to you. His full weight pressing against you now. 

“You are.” He pecks your lips. “Every fuckin’ inch of you. It’s all mine.”

He flexes his hips just once. Just enough to make you gasp.

“My wife.”

And he means it.

taglist: @biancathecool @oh-kurva @lilorose25 @rtorrésblog @dontsupressthejess @marisol4k @dollstappen @alireads27 @landoscarinthefastlane @idontknow0704 @astrlape @downsideup1989 @ptrickbateman @olivialup @theonottsbxtch @deeziee @alucardsdaddyissues @lilith-123321

[misaerabl]

BURNING POINT

firefighter vi x medic reader

CW: sex in a firehouse, slightly injured vi i guess, semi-public?, fingering, you fuck twice, sex in a firetruck, grinding, strap on sex, referring to strap on as cock, not proofread, pure smut again (insert apologies here)

The fire had been out for hours, but the heat lingered. Not from the flames — those had been tamed by the time you showed up, hauling your trauma kit and directing EMTs — but from her.

Vi.

Scarred knuckles. Sleeves rolled up. Smirking like she had no right to.

You'd patched up her shoulder after she barreled into a collapsing stairwell to rescue two kids. Stubborn idiot. She hadn’t winced once when you stitched her up. Just watched you with this lazy grin that said she enjoyed the way your hands felt on her skin a little too much.

And now, hours later, you’re both alone in the firehouse, the others having either gone home or passed out in the bunkroom.

"You always get this bossy when someone’s bleeding out?" Vi asks, stepping into the breakroom where you're pretending to clean your gear.

You glance at her. “Only when the person bleeding out is a dumbass with a hero complex.”

She chuckles, low and rough. "Come on. Admit it. You liked having your hands on me.”

You raise a brow. “You're not special. I’ve patched up half the squad.”

Vi steps closer. "Yeah, but you only look at me like that."

You freeze. She’s right. You do look at her differently. Like you’re imagining things that don’t belong in a sterile triage tent. Things that involve teeth and hands and no clothes.

When she crowds you against the counter, you don’t move away. She plants her hands on either side of you, caging you in. Her breath is warm against your ear.

"Tell me to stop," she whispers, but you don’t. Your hand grabs her shirt, pulling her in.

And then her lips crash into yours.

It’s heat and want and something close to reckless. Her hands find your hips, grip rough and hungry, like she’s been holding this in for months. You push back, bite her lip, and she groans — low, needy.

She lifts you onto the counter in one smooth move, stepping between your legs.

"You're such a goddamn tease," she growls, tugging your medic jacket off, revealing the tank top underneath. Her hands slide under it, calloused fingers dragging across your skin.

You tug her closer. “Then lets stop teasing.”

Vi doesn’t hesitate. She pulls your top over your head, mouth moving to your neck, then your chest, leaving marks that’ll be hard to explain if anyone walks in. But you don’t care. Her hands are everywhere — fast, desperate — like she’s trying to memorize the shape of you all at once.

You tug her shirt up, revealing toned muscle and old scars. She grins against your skin when you whisper “fuck” at the sight.

Her fingers trail down your stomach and into your pants. You gasp, nails digging into her shoulders.

“You’re already wet,” she murmurs smugly. “You were thinking about me.”

You arch into her hand. “Less talking.”

Vi growls, mouth crashing into yours again as her fingers slide inside, curling just right. You grip her arms, thighs trembling, as her pace picks up — fast, skilled, deliberate.

“You’re so good like this,” she mutters. “Falling apart on me.”

You come undone with a soft cry against her mouth, shuddering as she keeps you grounded with strong arms and filthy praise.

When you finally catch your breath, she’s smirking again.

“Next time I get hurt,” she says, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “you’re riding me on the stretcher.”

You laugh, breathless. “You wouldn’t last five minutes.”

Vi grins, teeth sharp and eyes hungry. “Bet.”

The laughter fades, but the tension doesn’t.

She helps you down from the counter, but not without stealing another kiss — lazy and deep, the kind that makes your knees weak. She doesn’t let you go far, her grip still tight on your wrist as she pulls you through the dim firehouse.

The place is silent, the others long gone or dead asleep upstairs.

Vi’s got that look again — the one she gets right before doing something reckless. “You ever done it in a firetruck?” she asks, voice low, almost teasing.

You blink at her. “That a serious question?”

She grins. “I’ve had fantasies.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

But you're already following her to the truck bay.

The rig looms in the shadows, steel and red and chrome — still smelling faintly of smoke and sweat. Vi swings the door open and yanks you up like you weigh nothing, lips already back on yours before you can tease her about her enthusiasm.

You're straddling her lap before your mind even catches up.

“This seat,” she murmurs, hands sliding under your thighs, “has definitely never seen anything this good.”

You grab her jaw, tilting her face so she has to look at you. “Then make it worth the risk.”

That’s all it takes.

Vi groans like she’s been starving. Her hands are under your clothes again — rough palms trailing over your ass as she grinds up into you, hard. You feel her through her uniform pants, pressed perfectly where you want her.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come just from grinding,” you breathe, panting against her neck.

“Good,” she growls, biting your earlobe. “Do it. Make a mess on me.”

You rock your hips down, both of you gasping. Her hands guide you — firm, controlling — dragging your body against hers in perfect rhythm. The scent of smoke and leather fills your lungs, the heat unbearable in the best way.

You yank her tank up, your mouth tracing over the ridges of her abs. Her hands slide into your pants again, and this time, she’s impatient. Two fingers slide in deep, curling up until your back arches and you nearly scream.

“Shh,” she says with a dark grin, covering your mouth with her own. “Gotta be quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want the probie to walk in and catch you cumming on my fingers.”

You moan into her mouth, already shaking.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. You love this, don’t you? Getting ruined where anyone could walk in.”

You nod, breath catching as she speeds up, her other hand squeezing your ass, pushing you harder against her.

You fall apart again — harder this time — clinging to her like you’re drowning.

Vi doesn’t stop.

She lifts you slightly, sliding her pants down just enough to free the strap she wears underneath. Your eyes widen.

“Always ready?” you ask, breathless.

She smirks. “For you? Every goddamn time.”

You slide down onto her with a cry, the stretch intense and perfect. Her hands grip your hips, guiding your movements as you ride her slow, then faster, the firetruck rocking with every thrust.

Vi is relentless.

She pounds up into you with brutal precision, your nails digging into her shoulders as the obscene sound of skin on skin echoes in the small cab. Your head falls back as her lips find your chest, sucking bruises onto your skin.

“I wanna see you fall apart again,” she whispers, voice wrecked. “One more time. Right here. On my cock.”

You do. You can’t help it.

The world shatters around you as you cry her name, body trembling, and she follows right after — hands clutching you like a lifeline, face buried in your neck.

When it’s over, you slump against her, both of you sweaty and flushed, clothes half-off and breath ragged.

“We are so getting caught one day,” you murmur, dazed.

Vi grins, still inside you. “Worth it.”

[hunnieknight]

Kitty Kitty Cat!

You are their treasured kitty!

[JingNyan, Blade, Kafcat, Luocat]

Extra

SPAY /NEUTERED YOUR PET, reader is not spayed yet because plot, Modern AU?, reader is a female cat, no proofread, BAD GRAMMAR

Context added to each 'chapter'.

@jymwahuwu wants cat, i give cat.

----

Jing Nyan

Yukong feels so lonely after her daughter left the house for college, she wants a company and someone to take care of.

She is happy to feed you, a stray one, and you officially become hers when she managed to put on a collar on you.

However, she is ill-informed about taking a stray as a pet and never crossed her mind to spay you.

Resulting her kitty to be missing for days, only to come back with filled belly.

On the other side of the neighborhood, Fu Xuan has this healthy fat cat, she foolishly thought her cat is so lazy as long as he is inside, it will be okay.

Oh how wrong she is that Jing Nyan is determined enough to meet up with the stray cat walking outside their house.

Imagine the surprise on Fu Xuan's face when she sees the status from her neighbor about the oh-so-familiar looking kittens.

The meeting started with both women apologizing for not spaying their cats, and ended up with Fu Xuan roasting the hell out her own cat.

----

Stellaron Stray

In a small studio house, the Express Family got an indoor cat, you, a very curious yet timid kitty.

The neighborhood got many stray cats but one of the most famous one are the so called Stellaron strays.

Two of the old cats taking a liking on Express's beloved cat. They don't worry much since every single windows and door are clo-

Oh my god how did the cat get pregnant?

March was quite upset, she has a male cat in mind to mate with her purebred cat. Only for you to just have kittens with the neighborhood gang cats. And how the hell you got a female cat to impregnate you

However, the Express didn't expect the strays to keep visiting, and even leaving animals that they hunt for you!

The Express decided to keep your babies too instead of giving them away.

Now Himeko is followed by kittens who always beg food to her.

And Dan Heng being haunted by the kittens who just....stare at him for some reason.

The Express also realizing these kittens are escaping artist, no matter how tight the door and windows are locked, the cats always find a way to get everywhere.

----

LuoCat

Your dad, Welt, doesn't approve your cat boy friend.

[rikiiluvr]

— 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙎𝙀

☆ stoner!nishimura riki x rich!reader ☆ wc: 1.9k ☆ warnings: MDNI, heavy usage and mention of weed, blunts, drugs etc., hotboxing, smoking, VERY SUGGESTIVE, making out, slight grinding (let me know if i missed anything). PART 1.

i didn't really proofread this-

THE gala was all glitter and gold and too many fake smiles. you lasted an hour tops before you snuck out through the back entrance. now your heels are in one hand and your feet are in the grass, the hem of your expensive dress dragging across the dew-soaked grass bed. you didn’t know where you were going but what you did know was that you had to get away from the dizzying smell of champagne, the shallow conversations and pointed stares. 

you walked ahead until the lazy waters of a lake came into sight, but what intrigued you more than the glistening surface was the soft trail of music drifting through the air at a distance, and that’s when you caught sight of a tall, sturdy figure leaning against a beat-up toyota, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding a lit blunt. you inched closer to him, and the strong smell of weed invaded your senses.

he looks up and his eyes find yours—amused but not shocked. his eyes trailed up and down your figure, taking in the breathtaking sight before him. silk dress, gold hoops, tousled hair, and glossy lips. you looked every bit of one of the city’s most powerful socialites. he knew who you were. everyone did. but he didn’t want to scare you off so he pretended not to know you. “you lost?” he finally uttered, taking a drag from the rolled-up blunt between his hands. you rolled your eyes, walking closer although maybe you shouldn’t have considering you don’t even know the guy “escaping.” you uttered when you were at a respectable distance from him. he shot you a lazy grin “me too”— his voice hoarse and breathy, probably from all the smoking. “can i try that?” you hesitantly pointed to the blunt between his fingers which he passed to you wordlessly. 

you held it awkwardly between your thumb and index finger “so do i just puff on it or…  what do i do?” you asked, examining the blunt. the man beside you chuckled, “yeah princess, just wrap your lips around it and inhale it.” his voice was gentle but grounding. 

you wrapped your lips around the blunt and inhaled once, too quick, too deep—and it hit you hard. you immediately broke out into a fit of coughs, puffs of smoke drifting in the air, eyes watering, throat burning, and head spinning. you took deep breaths of oxygen this time, trying to catch your breath. you heard a low, lazy laugh from the attractive man beside you, he leaned back against the hood of his car, “damn” he started, “you tryna smoke or swallow it?” he teased, you coughed a little more before flipping him off, your mascara smudged from tears “that… was intense” you croaked.

he took the blunt out of your hand with practiced ease “well, yeah,” he said, eyes gleaming. “first time always hits the hardest.”. you cleared your throat, choosing to ignore the possible double meaning.“i’m fine” you glanced at him, eyes still glossy “what do i even call you? the blunt guy?” you remarked, earning a grin from the said blunt guy “riki. but if blunt guy is what you prefer, that works too” he shot you a lopsided smile which sent a sudden rush of warmth through your body, you narrowed your eyes at him, cheeks burning but not just from the smoke—his appearance was annoyingly appealing, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbow, silver rings glinting and strands of silver peeking out of his hood. “done checking me out?” he teased, cocky smile spreading across his pink, plump lips. 

you shifted your gaze immediately to the lake in front, and for a while, there seemed to be comfortable silence, the cold winds brushed past you, and a sudden echo of chatter and fake laughter brought you back to your senses as you straightened up and brushed your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame it, “i should head back” you mumbled, slipping your heels back on. “or” he started, “you could stay with me a little longer” he cocked his head to the right, indicating his car. you glanced at the toyota— faint smell of weed seeping through the open window, and the soft, low bass music vibrated in the air. you shouldn’t agree; in fact, you shouldn't even be here. 

riki raised a brow at the hesitation in your eyes “its just a car”, he started “i’m not going to kidnap you or anything—well, unless you want me to of course,” he added on, trying to lighten the mood. you snorted despite yourself, rolling your eyes—and then the passenger door creaked open. warmth wrapped around you immediately, the faint leather, cheap cologne, and lingering traces of smoke in the air made your head spin. you slid in, the leather sticking to your skin slightly as your skirt rode up your thighs. riki climbed in behind you, shutting the door, making your heart skip. “you ready?” he asked, already reaching to roll up the windows. adrenaline buzzed through your body—you were doing it. you were doing something that could’ve set the entire media into shambles if anyone found out. “no”, you replied honestly.

you looked over at him—his hood down, piercings glinting, silver hair tousled slightly, eyes hooded and his plump lips adorned a lazy grin, like he knew what was happening, but he lit the blunt anyway and smoke curled in the air, soft and slow, turning the car into a hazy dream, it filled your lungs less violently this time but the intensity of the moment was no less than earlier. the heat, the smell, and the proximity between you and riki had you spiraling already when he hadn’t even touched you yet 

riki leaned back, legs sprawled and eyes half-lidded. his hoodie slipped down his shoulder, revealing a silver of his collarbone that you couldn’t take your eyes off of. the blunt burnt between his fingers as he brought it up to his soft lips from time to time. you couldn’t tell if it was the weed getting to you or the tension between the two of you that made the space feel so thick  all of a sudden. “you always smoke with strangers?” you questioned, your eyes hazed as you took in the smoke drifting around you. he smiled, pulling the blunt away, tilting his head slightly to blow out the steam “only the pretty ones that sneak out of galas” earning a small smile from you.

 he passed you the blunt “take it slow this time, pretty.” the nickname that slipped out of his lips so easily sent a rush of heat in your lower abdomen. you gulped and nodded, slowly taking the blunt between your fingers as you took a slower, deeper drag, and this time you felt the warmth spreading slowly in your chest. everything felt a little louder and slower. the rhythmic thumping of music playing in the car ringing in your ears. your fingers twitched, and your mouth felt dry and bitter yet sweet. you exhaled the smoke slowly with parted lips— you turned to see riki staring at you, eyes darkened, and you didn’t miss the way he licked his lips when his gaze fell on your plump ones.

“you good?” he asked, softer now. 

you nodded. 

he smirked, “high?” 

“a little.” you admitted

you brought the blunt to your parted lips once again, taking in slow drags and letting the drugs settle into your bloodstream. the car felt like another world. smoke curled thick in the air, layers of it drifting with every breath, every movement. the fog blurred your line of sight, adding on to the hazy state of your mind. it felt warm. too warm. the leather squeaked when either of you moved. his knee brushed yours once. maybe twice. you weren’t sure anymore. it felt like a dream you were supposed to be in, but you didn't want to get up either. 

riki groaned, “you’re really pretty,” he said, voice dipped in smoke and something heavier. “especially when you’re high out of your mind.”

you laughed nervously, not sure how to respond to that. you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and glanced at him. the blunt burned completely, and he stubbed it out in the ashtray without taking his eyes off yours, and then there was silence—the hum of the music in the background tuned out as your pulse roared in your ears.

you leaned in first. locking your plump lips with his. the kiss was soft at first, testing the waters, but one of his hands stretched out to your jaw, the other one wrapped around your waist, guiding you closer to him, mouth opening against yours, gliding his tongue into your mouth as the kiss deepened. it was warm and messy, full of weed and unsaid attraction. 

riki pulled away first, allowing you both to catch your breath. he reached out to the console and pulled out a fresh blunt and a lighter from a ziplock bag. you only stared at him in confusion. he pulled you onto his lap and lit the blunt. he took a slow, deep drag but didn’t exhale—smoke curled at the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t let it out, instead he pressed his thumb against your lips, making you part them, and pulled you closer, his fingers held your chin firmly as he brought his lips inches away from yours, parting them slowly and deliberately, exhaling the smoke into your mouth. 

your breath hitched. this newfound form of intimacy spiked something in you. the warmth of the smoke filled your throat, your lungs and your chest. it spread through you—sweet and slow, dizzying in the most delicious way. riki didn’t let you dwell for too long, immediately connecting his lips to yours. this time the kiss was deeper, more passionate. it was needy and hot, making you whimper as you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged at the strands of hair on his nape. 

he threaded his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer and tugging at them—the delicious pain adding onto the otherworldly feeling, making you moan into his mouth as he swallowed all your sweet sounds. you were high enough already, but something about the way his mouth tasted, the wee,d and the warmth was more addictive than any drug. your hands slipped under his hoodie, your fingers grazing his skin, tracing the lines of his abs. his movements faltered but only for a second and his grip on your hair tightened slightly. you pressed down on him, making him hiss at the feeling. 

slowly, you pushed him away, your hands still under his hoodie, his warmth more comforting than ever. your foreheads pressed against one another as you struggled to catch your breaths. “damn.” riki spoke up first, his voice hoarse and barely audible. a small smile tugged at your lips. “you do this with every girl you smoke with?” you questioned, trying to come off teasing but secretly hopeful. his lips curved, just barely “nah.” his fingers tightened their hold on your waist as he tipped his head back “only the ones i hope don’t walk away after” he grinned, the signal clear.

and luckily for him, you were nowhere near ready to walk away after tonight either.

☆taglist: @rizzimura-babes26 ; @zoeyyyuu

[i2sunric]

𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 (l.hs)

PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: it doesn’t matter if the sex is slow or rough, heeseung always gets you so soaked.

WARNINGS: established relationship, smut, protected sex (we stan), fingering, dirty talking, pet names (baby), squirt, mating press, lazy sex, cum on stomach, making out, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 11th March 2025

WC: 1.8k

TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @enhamonsterghoul @star-hoon

a/n: SOooO SoAKED 🗣️‼️reblog to share pls help an author out

The rain outside fell in a steady rhythm, soft against the window, a quiet symphony of the pattering droplets and the distant thunder rolling low in the sky.

The lamp on the nightstand casted a golden glow, stretching shadows across the bed where you laid, pressed close against Heeseung.

His lips moved slowly against yours, lazily, like you have all the time in the world.

There wasno urgency, no roughness, just the unhurried slide of his mouth over yours, the gentle play of his tongue as he kissed you deep and slow.

His hand rested against your hip, thumb tracing idle circles just beneath the hem of your sleeping shorts.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured, voice low. His forehead pressed against yours for a second before he tilted your chin up, kissing you again. “Mhh… baby.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm.

You hummed softly against his lips, pressing closer, the slow drag of his fingers against your skin left trails of warmth in their wake.

His hand slipped beneath your shorts, fingers teasing over your bare thigh before dipping higher. He chuckled when you shiver. “Sensitive?”

“A little,” you admitted, blushing.

Heeseung smiled against your mouth before dragging his lips down, pressing soft, lazy kisses along your jawline, down the column of your throat.

His hand moved deliberately, fingertips grazing over your clothed heat before slipping beneath the fabric.

“So wet,” he mutterred, feeling your soaking folds beneath his palm.

his voice was filled with something warm and pleased, like he enjoyed the way your body reacted to him, the way you shifted closer, seeking more. “You always get like this when we kiss for a while.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut when he finally pressed two fingers against you, slow and careful. “Heeseung…”

“I got you, baby.” His voice was soothing as he pushed two fingers inside, dragging against your walls in a way that made your breath catch.

He didn't move fast, didn't rush; he just eased his fingers in and out, curling them slightly with every stroke.

Your head tilted back against the pillow, lips parted, thighs trembling slightly as warmth pooled deep in your stomach.

His other hand pressed against your hip, grounding you, preventing you from squirming too much.

“Good?” he asked, voice laced with amusement, even as his eyes darkened watching you.

You nodded, barely able to form words with the way his fingers worked you open so effortlessly. “Mhm.”

Heeseung’s lips curved in a satisfied smile before he pressed another kiss against your throat, nipping lightly. He sucked gently at your skin where a hickey was already taking form.

Your breathe grew uneven, little gasps slipping from your lips as he angled his fingers just right, finding that perfect spot inside you.

Your body tensed for a brief moment before melting into his touch, your grip on his shirt tightening.

“Heeseung—”

“I know, baby. Just let go,” he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

The pleasure built, slow and steady, until it was impossible to hold back.

Your back arched slightly as waves of heat crashed over you. Heeseung groaned softly when he felt you clench around his fingers, his movements never stopping, drawing out every bit of your pleasure.

His fingers slid out of you, and he lifted his hand, glancing at the wetness coating his fingers before smirking. “So pretty for me.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Stop.”

But he only laughed, prying your hands away so he could kiss you again, slow and sweet. “Never.”

The sheets were damp with sweat, your skin burned hot beneath his touch, but neither of you pulled away.

Instead, you stayed close, breaths mingling, his lips brushing lazily against yours, as if neither of you were ready for this moment to end.

His fingers still glistened with you, a reminder of how easily he unraveled you.

His eyes flickered with something darker as he watched you, and without breaking his gaze, you reached for his wrist, guiding his hand up.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips. “What are you—”

You didn’t let him finish.

Instead, you took his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself off his skin, letting your tongue flick over the pads of his fingertips, sucking lightly.

Heeseung took in a sharp breath, his body tensing as his jaw tightened.

“Fuck,” he murmured, voice rough with something raw. “You really like driving me crazy, huh?”

You hummed around his fingers, letting them slip from your lips with a quiet pop before you reached for his jaw, pulling him into another kiss.

This one wasn’t slow or teasing; it was desperate, almost messy, filled with the heat simmering between you.

His hands roamed your body, rougher now, gripping at your waist, your hips, sliding down to your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you gasp.

His thigh pressed between yours, and that was when you felt him— hot and hard, straining against his sweats as he ground against you.

“Heeseung.” you whispered, voice laced with need.

His breath was uneven as he pressed his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter, grinding against you just enough to make you shudder. “I need you,” he sighed, “Right now, so fucking much.”

There was no hesitation as he reached for your shorts, slipping them down your thighs along with your panties. You helped him, wiggling out of them as quickly as you could, and Heeseung wasted no time tossing them aside.

His hands slid up your thighs, parting them slowly as he took in the sight of you, his gaze hungry.

“So pretty,” he murmured against your skin. “So perfect.”

You bit your lip, watching as he tugged his sweats down, just enough to free himself. He was hard, thick and flushed, his tip leaking just slightly as he wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly.

You swallowed, thighs shifting restlessly “Hee… hurry.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and he smirked before reaching for a condom in the drawer.

He ripped it open with his teeth, rolling it on with practiced ease, and then he was pressing forward, positioning himself between your legs.

You tilted your hips up, opening yourself to him, letting him guide himself against your entrance.

“Tell me you want this,” he said “I do,” you breathed, “I want you.”

That was all it took.

Heeseung pushed in slowly, stretching you open, groaning at the way you gripped him so tightly.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you adjusted, legs trembling slightly, but the slow burn quickly turned into pleasure.

“You take me so well,” he whisperec “So fucking tight.”

You whimpered, tilting your head back as he bottomed out completely, his body pressed flush against yours.

Heeseung gripped your thighs, pushing them up until your knees nearly touched your chest, folding your body into a perfect mating press.

The new angle made you gasp, the way he was buried so deep inside you sending a shiver through your entire body.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, staring down at you with blown-out eyes. “You feel so good.”

“Mh— Hee,” you sighed “S’good.” nails scraping lightly against his back as he started to move— slow at first, letting you adjust, then picking up a steady rhythm, rocking into you with deep, precise thrusts.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath hitching with every stroke.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together filled the air, along with the low groans slipping from Heeseung’s lips, the quiet, breathless moans you couldn't suppress. He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper, harder, filling you so completely it leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he cooed, his voice thick with adoration and lust. “Taking me so well, my perfect girl.”

Your legs shook in his grip, pleasure curling deep in your stomach, building and building until you were on the verge of breaking apart.

Heeseung felt it, the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your body trembled.

“M’so close.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his thrusts turning erratic.

“Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded,. “Let me feel you.”

You couldn’t hold back.

With a sharp cry, your body seized, pleasure crashing over you in waves, leaving you gasping, trembling beneath him.

The overwhelming sensation took over, and before you could stop it, a sudden gush of wetness escaped you, soaking the sheets beneath.

Heeseung stilled, “Holy shit,” he muttered, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies meet, taking in the mess you had just made. “Fuck, that was so hot.”

Your face burned with embarrassment, but Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to feel shy about it.

He kissed you deeply, thrusting into you a few more times before pulling out quickly.

He barely managed to roll the condom down in time, jerking himself through the last few strokes before spilling hot and thick across your stomach.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The only sound is your combined breathing, the steady rhythm of the rain outside.

Then, Heeseung let out a low chuckle, his hands smoothed over your thighs before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“You okay?” he questioned gently.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah.”

Heeseung hummed, reaching for the tissues by the nightstand to clean you up.

He wiped you down with careful hands, murmuring little apologies when you twitched from the sensitivity.

Then, when he was done, he tossed the tissues aside and pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

You sighed into him, nuzzling against his chest, your body still humming with the afterglow.

Heeseung caressed your back, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone, your jaw, your lips, gentle and unhurried.

“I like this,” you mumbled sleepily.

Heeseung smiled against your skin. “Yeah?”

You nodned, curling closer. “Mhm… being with you like this.”

His hold tightened slightly, his warmth surrounding you. “Me too, baby.”

He pressed another slow, lingering kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. “Me too.”

[jaeyunnz]

"Work Break Seduction."

ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+

WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.

both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!

Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.

Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.

A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.

The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.

This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.

You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.

You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.

The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.

Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?

He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."

He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."

You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.

You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.

How the fuck did he know?

"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.

"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.

At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.

"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.

Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.

You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.

You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.

Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.

It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.

His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.

When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.

You're sure. You want this. You want him.

Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.

He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.

You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.

Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 

You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.

Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.

He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.

He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.

He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."

"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.

"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.

He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.

Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."

He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.

"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.

You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.

The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"

Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.

He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.

He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.

Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.

And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.

He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.

The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.

He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.

"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."

You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."

💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Hello lovely!! I saw your post that you're open to request, can I request a male reader x phainon with breeding kink, you can also add any kinks you want! I adore your writing sm (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) (🤍)

ALL MINE

★ tws : nsfw / smut, breeding kink, male!reader, orgasm denial/edging, cockwarming, a lil praise, multiple of rounds, degradation, slight dumbfied reader at the end and lots of cum. mdni : 18+ only.

★ sum : you’re are phainon’s precious boy. And he’s gonna fill you up until you’re leaking and begging for more.

★ note : not proofread, I’m too lazy to correct my mistakes.

You don’t know what you said.

Maybe you called him pretty. Maybe you teased him in that little smug voice you always do, saying something about how he couldn’t last without touching you. Maybe you just looked at him for too long.

Whatever it was, it broke something in Phainon.

His clothes hit the floor. His pants tossed aside with trembling fingers. And now?

You’re on your back, legs trembling around his hips, clawing at the sheets while his cock pulses deep inside you—raw, hot, unrelenting.

“Haaah… ngh—Phainon…”

“Shh. Take it. You can take it.” He growls into your neck, voice deeper, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. “You’re mine, aren’t you? My pretty boy. All fucking mine.”

He thrusts in, hard, like he’s trying to plant his whole soul inside you. You jolt, a broken moan spilling from your lips as he grinds his hips down, refusing to pull out.

“P-Phai—fuck, baby, you’re s-so deep, you’re—”

“Say it,” he snaps. “Say you want me to breed you.”

You whine. He grabs your hips and slams in again, dizzying you with the weight of his cock, his heat, the thick length dragging along all your spots like he knows them by instinct.

“Phainon, I—I want it,” you gasp, arching up against his chest. “Fuck, I want your cum, I want you to fill me, please—”

“There it is.” He kisses you, messy, almost angry with how much he wants you. “You don’t even know how many times I’ve dreamed of this. Of stuffing you full, making sure it takes. Again. And again. Until you can’t think about anything except how full I got you.”

He fucks you with purpose. Long, deliberate thrusts, then a sharp grind that leaves you gasping. You’re clenching around him so tight he groans, head dropping to your shoulder.

“Feel that?” he huffs. “That’s my cock. That’s your lover—ruining you.”

You nod, tears pricking your eyes from the pressure of it all. “Y-Yeah… yeah, ruin me…”

Phainon growls, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll keep you like this. Warm, dripping, so full you forget what it’s like to be empty. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You can’t even speak. Just a nod. Just a wrecked moan.

He reaches down and grips your cock, already leaking. “You’re not allowed to cum yet,” he says sweetly, cruelly. “Not until I’m sure my seed’s in you. Not until you’re bred.”

You cry out, hips bucking—and he pins you down with a firm hand on your stomach.

“Don’t move.”

He starts thrusting harder. Faster. His balls slap your ass with every thrust, lewd, wet, devastating. His cock pulses and you know it’s coming.

Then—

“Fuck—fuck—take it—” he snarls, slamming in and staying there as his cock throbs. And pulses. And pulses.

Hot, thick cum floods into you. Rope after rope. So much it aches. So much it leaks out around the base of his cock, dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets.

He doesn’t move. Just keeps himself buried to the hilt, panting over your shoulder, muttering how perfect you are, how tight you are, how he’s not done.

You’re still shaking when he pulls your hips up and says with a hungry smirk,

“Let’s make sure it takes.”

Your legs are already shaking—and he hasn’t even let you cum yet.

Phainon’s voice is low, his breath hot against your ear, and his cock is buried deep inside you, pulsing with each heavy grind of his hips.

“Still holding back for me?” he murmurs, smirking against your neck. “Good boy. That’s it. Stay just like that for me, yeah?”

You whimper, your arms trembling from where they’re locked around his shoulders. “P-Phainon, I—please—”

“Please what?” he coos, slowly thrusting in again, so slow it’s maddening. “Please ruin you? Please fill this tight hole up with my cum until you’re leaking all over my cock?”

You gasp—he laughs.

“You like this. You like being stretched and used and stuffed full, don’t you?”

You nod fast, clinging to him as he starts to thrust—real thrusts now, brutal and deep. Every time his hips slam into yours, you feel the slap of his skin, the obscene slick of his cock grinding inside you.

And every time you get close?

He stops.

He fucking stops.

“You’re gonna cum when I say,” he growls, dragging his teeth along your throat. “You wanna be my perfect boy? Then act like it.”

He grips your thighs, pushing them up, folding you until you’re fully exposed under him. His cock hits that spot that makes you sob, and he doesn’t let up—not this time.

You’re panting, leaking, your own cock untouched and twitching.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Beg for it.”

“I—I wanna cum,” you cry. “Please, baby, please, I’ve been good—!”

“Say what you’re begging for,” he snarls. “Say it.”

“Please fill me up, make me yours—!”

That breaks him.

He thrusts hard, fast, his breath hitching as he pants, “Yeah? You want it? Wanna be stuffed full with all my cum, huh? Wanna walk around dripping, knowing I used you?”

You’re barely able to respond—just moaning, shaking, stars in your eyes—and then he slams in one last time.

His whole body shudders.

“F—fuck—fuck, take it, take it all—” he snarls as he spills everything into you. It’s hot, thick, endless. You feel it flood inside, pooling deep, leaking out before he’s even done.

But he doesn’t pull out.

No.

He stays in.

Presses his hips flush to yours, his cock still twitching inside your soaked hole.

“Shhh… stay like this,” he whispers, kissing your sweaty cheek. “I’m not done yet. I want you cockwarming me while it sinks in.”

You whimper. He hums.

“Such a good boy,” he breathes, voice soft again. “Took me so well. Let me fuck you dumb and fill you up just like you deserve.”

You’re dazed, fucked-out, stuffed to the brim, barely able to hold a thought. Your own orgasm hit somewhere in the middle—maybe more than once—but it’s all a blur now.

Phainon strokes your cheek.

“Don’t worry,” he says, smug. “I’ll clean you up after. After I make sure you’re nice and full.”

And he smiles.

Because you’re his.

And he’s not letting a drop go to waste.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[daryltwdixon]

Could you do bicep choking 🌚🙈

Daryl Dixon x Reader Grip

Summary: You let something slip—just a thought, just a passing comment—but Daryl hasn’t been able to shake it since. A week later, the tension between you reaches a breaking point.  tags: smut MDNI 18+, awkward pining, pinv, breast play, praise kink. awkward daryl & fmc, bicep choking obvi a/n: hello my love! thank you so much for this request and for your patience. in a second ask, anon did specify that they meant Daryl bicep choking. fair warning, I did not reread this a ton / proofread much. please lmk of any mistakes/errors!

The sun hangs low over the trees, heat pressing in heavy as you weave through the abandoned gas station, boots crunching softly over broken glass. Daryl moves a few steps ahead, bow slung across his back, knife in hand, moving with that effortless quiet of his. Always aware. Always in control.

And his arms.

You tell yourself you’re just paying attention—watching his movements like he watches everything else around him, staying alert. But your gaze keeps catching on the shift of muscle beneath his skin, the way his forearms flex when he grips his knife, the lazy tension in his biceps every time he lifts his arm to wipe sweat off his brow.

You shouldn’t be looking.

But it’s hard not to.

Especially when he plants a boot on a fallen shelf, using his weight to pry open a rusted metal door. The strain makes his muscles coil tight, veins standing out just enough to make you swallow hard.

"Well?" His voice snaps you out of it.

You blink. "What?"

Daryl jerks his chin toward the darkened storage room behind the door. "You goin’ in first or what?"

Shit. You’ve been staring.

"Yeah. Right. On it."

You step past him, ears burning. The space inside smells like old rot and motor oil, a few overturned boxes scattered around. You crouch, rifling through some supplies, heart still kicking too fast. It’s stupid. You’ve been on runs with him before. But something about today—the heat, the silence between you, the way he’s been rolling his shoulders like his muscles are wound too tight—has you hyper-aware of every damn thing he does.

A tin of peaches clatters loose from a shelf, and you reach for it at the same time he does. Your fingers barely brush his, but the contact is enough to send a jolt up your arm, like static crackling under your skin. He pauses. Just for a second. And when he draws back, you swear you catch the flicker of his gaze sweeping over you before he looks away.

You can feel your pulse in your throat.

You should let it go. Should get back to work. But the words are out before you can stop them.

"You ever—" You hesitate, pulse hammering, but you push through. "You ever, I don’t know, choke somebody with your arms before?"

Daryl stops. Slowly, he turns his head toward you, eyes narrowing just slightly. His bicep shifts as he adjusts his grip on the tin in his hand. "The hell kinda question is that?"

Shiiiit. You fucked up.

But instead of retreating, you force yourself to keep looking at him, tilting your chin up just a little. "I just mean, you’re strong." A shrug, like it’s no big deal. "Bet you could hold somebody down real easy."

Silence.

Then, Daryl exhales through his nose, shaking his head. But there’s something in his expression—something flickering behind his eyes, sharp and considering.

He tosses the tin into your hands and mutters, "You’re weird." and walks away.

═════════════════════════

Back at the prison, dinner is quiet, the usual hum of conversation mixed with the occasional scrape of utensils against tin plates. Most people are too tired to talk much, a day of tending to the gardens, cleaning out cell blocks and keeping walkers at bay making everyone look forward to the slower evenings. The air in the hall feels thick with the kind of exhaustion that settles deep, making everything feel slow, heavy.

You should be eating, but your stomach isn’t interested.

Because Daryl’s staring at you.

You haven’t looked at him, not really since you got back, but you can feel it. That steady weight from across the room, the burning of your ears, it makes it almost impossible to keep your stomach from doing somersaults. 

You should’ve kept your mouth shut on the run. Should’ve swallowed the words down, let them die in your throat. But no—you had to go and say it. Maybe it was your stupid hormones, the way he seemed to speak to some primal part of you that evolution put in your dna, maybe it was just some stupid impulse you couldn’t control. Either way, it’s too late now.

Not like it meant anything.

Except, if it didn’t, why was he still looking at you?

Your fingers tighten around your fork, but you don’t move to take another bite. Instead, you stare at the food on your plate, willing yourself to focus on anything other than the way your face feels too warm, the way your pulse is pressing a little harder than it should.

Maggie shifts in her seat, nudging Beth’s arm. “You good?”

You blink, glance up. Beth tilts her head, studying you, while Maggie smirks like she already knows something you don’t.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost today or somethin’,” Maggie says, “The run go that bad?”

“N-no,” you stammer, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, “It went fine. Got a lotta good stuff, actually.”

Maggie hums, unconvinced, and you watch as her eyes flicker behind you when she says, looking back at her plate, “Looks like someone’s got a little crush.”

The fork slips from your fingers, clattering against the plate, “I do not!”

But your reaction is what does it– it’s too sharp, too defensive. Beth startles a little, but Maggie just stares, slow realization spreading across her face as you lock eyes with her.

“I was only kiddin’." she says incredulously, "I meant the grouchy archer sittin' across the room, he keeps starin’ atcha.” she shakes her head, eyes lighting up. “But I see I’ve been mistaken.” She leans in. “You like Daryl?”

Your stomach drops.

Beth gasps, slapping Maggie’s arm. “Oh my god.”

Your face is on fire. “I don’t—”

Maggie grins. “Holy shit, you totally do.”

Beth’s trying to stifle a giggle. You shake your head fast, like that’ll help, like it’ll undo the last five seconds, but it only makes Maggie look even more certain. You can feel the walls closing in, feel their eyes on you, but worse—you can still feel his.

It’s too much. You push your plate away and mutter a quiet, “Not hungry anymore,” before standing and heading for the stairs, their laughter echoing behind you.

You don’t look back, because if you were to turn around and find those ocean blue eyes still on you, it would be your undoing.

═════════════════════════

The book in your hands is old, pages yellowed and brittle at the edges, the spine cracked so deep you have to be careful when you turn the pages. You’re not even sure what it’s about. Something about a man lost at sea. Maybe.

You’ve been staring at the same paragraph for the last ten minutes.

It’s not that it’s boring. It’s just that your mind refuses to focus.

You shift on your cot, tugging the blanket over your lap, trying again, but it’s useless. Your brain keeps circling back, over and over, to dinner. To Maggie’s knowing grin, Beth’s giggles, and—worst of all—Daryl.

You squeeze your eyes shut, exhaling sharply. You should’ve never said anything. Should’ve kept that stupid thought locked away where it belonged.

A quiet scuff of boots outside your cell makes your stomach jolt. There’s a pause, then a hesitant knock against the frame of your open door. Not loud or rushed, more like a question.

You look up.

Daryl stands in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets, head slightly ducked. His shoulders are hunched, like he’s already thinking about leaving before he’s even fully stepped inside.

For a moment, neither of you say anything.

Then, he clears his throat. “Didn’t know ya read.”

You blink. It’s such a small thing to say, but something about the way he says it, like he’s searching for an easy way in, trying to settle into the conversation, makes your stomach tighten.

You glance at the book in your lap. “Yeah. Helps pass the time.”

Daryl nods, his eyes flicking around the small space of your cell, like he’s looking for something else to comment on, something to delay whatever it is he actually came here for. Between your haphazardly taped posters and handmade streamers, he doesn’t find anything, so instead, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, exhales through his nose, then finally says:

“That thing you asked me.”

Your stomach drops. Of course. You should’ve known that was why he was here.

Your fingers tighten around the book, but you shake your head quickly. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry if I made you–”

“You think I can?” he asks, huffing.

You frown. “Think you can what?”

His jaw tenses, and when he speaks again, it’s lower. Almost cautious. “Forget it.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He shrugs, but it’s not casual. It’s forced. “Ain’t exactly somethin’ you just let go of.”

Your chest feels too tight all of a sudden. You can’t quite place the look on his face—something careful, something guarded, like he’s trying not to let on that it’s been sitting in the back of his head since you said it. What went through his mind when you asked him?

You shift on your cot, swallowing. “Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

His gaze flickers, just barely. “Yeah?”

You nod, but something in the way he’s looking at you makes your throat dry out. He still doesn’t seem convinced.

“You think that’s what I am?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge there, frustration starting to rise in his voice. “Some kinda animal? The kind of man who would kill someone with–” he shakes his head slightly, jaw clenching. “You think I’m like that?”

The realization hits you hard. Your stomach twists. “Daryl, no,” you say quickly, sitting up straighter. “That’s not—”

He shakes his head again, looking at the floor. “Wouldn’t blame ya.”

Your heart kicks against your ribs. “That’s not what I meant.”

Daryl exhales, folding his arms over his chest, still avoiding your eyes. “Then what did you mean?”

You hesitate. Because now he’s looking at you. Not guarded, not distant—just waiting.

Your fingers press into the book in your lap. This is your chance to brush it off. Laugh it away. But you can already feel the heat creeping up your face, and Daryl is still standing there, still waiting, and if you don’t say it now, he’s just going to keep thinking the worst.

You shift slightly. “I meant…” Your throat feels tight. “I meant in bed.”

Daryl blinks.

His whole body stiffens, like his brain short-circuited, like the words hit him sideways and he can’t quite recover. His face is already turning red, slow at first, then creeping all the way up to his ears.

Your own face burns, and you clear your throat, pushing through the embarrassment. “I meant—if you’d ever choked someone in bed. With your arms.”

A silence falls over the room. A long, unbearable silence.

Daryl shifts, dragging a hand over his mouth. He scratches the back of his head, looks anywhere but at you.

Finally, he exhales, mutters, “Jesus,” under his breath, then huffs out a quiet, almost nervous laugh.

Your stomach clenches. “I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s—uh. That’s what ya meant?”

You nod quickly, still burning. “Yeah.”

Daryl looks at you for a second. His fingers flex slightly at his sides, like he’s thinking too hard about where to put them.

Then, after a long pause—his voice comes out quieter.

“You’d want me to?”

Your stomach drops.

Your eyes snap to his. “What?”

Daryl shrugs, but it’s forced, like he’s trying to play off how red his face still is. “I dunno. Just—” His mouth twitches slightly, like he can’t believe he’s even saying this. “Sounded like somethin’ you were real curious about.”

Your breath catches.

He’s not teasing, not quite—but there’s something in the way he says it, something light, something almost amused. Like he’s surprised at himself, surprised at you, but now that he’s said it, he’s not taking it back.

Your mouth opens, then closes again. Your hands are way too warm.

“I wouldn’t—” you swallow. “I wouldn’t not want you to.”

Daryl huffs out another soft laugh, shaking his head, glancing toward the hall like he’s wondering how the hell this conversation ended up here.

Then he looks back at you, eyes a little sharper now, lips twitching.

The heat in your face flares as he just chuckles under his breath, rubbing at his jaw before he steps back toward the door.

“Get some sleep,” he says, still smirking.

He turns, but not before you catch it—just the slightest flicker of something in his expression.

Something knowing. Something interested.

And when he finally walks away, you can’t do anything except stare at the empty doorway and try to remember how to breathe.

═════════════════════════

The past week has been unbearable.

It’s not like anything has happened, not really. No one has said anything, no lines have been crossed, but the air between you and Daryl hasn’t been the same since that night in your cell.

It’s in the way his eyes catch on you more often now. The way he lingers a little too long before walking away. The way your skin prickles when he’s nearby, too aware of the space he takes up, too aware of how small you feel in comparison.

And now, you’re on another run together.

“Last one went well,” Rick had said, shoving packs toward both of you. “Might as well stick with what works.”

The drive into town is quiet. Neither of you talk much, just like last time, but it’s not the same. There’s a different kind of weight, and you’re grateful that the open road on the motorcycle leaves little conversation to be said over its echoing roar.

When you finally reach an old pharmacy on the outskirts, the sun is starting to climb higher in the sky, heat burning your neck and the pavement glimmering.

Inside, dust clings to everything, thick in the air. It smells stale, like old paper and time left to rot. Shelves are overturned, bottles and boxes scattered across the floor.

You do your job, scanning for anything useful, but your focus keeps slipping.

Because every time you glance up, Daryl is there.

He’s not doing anything different. Not saying anything. Just moving through the space like he always does—quiet, efficient. But somehow, it feels like every single movement is deliberate. Like every shift of muscle under his skin is something you shouldn’t be watching, but you are.

The dust-covered counter at the back of the building gives you something to focus on, something to do besides thinking about the weight of Daryl’s gaze. You hop over the counter and crouch down, scanning the lowest shelf, rifling through half-empty boxes of medication, checking for anything still worth taking back.

A prickle of awareness crawls up the back of your neck.

It’s not the usual kind of awareness you get on a run, not the instinct that tells you someone—or something— dangerous is lurking nearby. It’s different. Warmer. Closer.

When you stand, a bottle of pills in your hand, you nearly jump out of your skin.

Daryl is right there, barely a foot away, standing between you and the only way out.

Your breath stutters. He doesn’t usually get this close without reason.

He’s blocking the exit, but it doesn’t feel like he’s trapping you—it feels like he’s stopping himself from walking away. His weight shifts between his feet, his arms twitch like they want to cross, but he doesn’t move, just watches you with something unreadable in his eyes.

Your fingers tighten around the bottle in your hand. “Wha—what’s up?”

Daryl doesn’t answer at first. He just looks at you, quiet and considering, something simmering beneath the surface. His teeth catch against the corner of his lip for a second, his fingers flex at his sides, but it’s like he still hasn’t worked out how to say whatever it is that’s sitting heavy on his chest.

Then he exhales through his nose and mutters, “Can’t stop thinkin’.”

His voice is rough, like the words have been stuck in his throat all day.

Your pulse jumps. “Thinking... about what?”

He shifts again on uneven footing, glancing toward the counter before dragging his gaze back to you. The moment stretches, thick enough to smother, before he finally speaks again.

“Since last time,” he mutters, voice quieter now. Your stomach flips. He shakes his head, almost to himself. “You got me all fucked up, girl.”

It’s not frustration, not really—it’s more like exhaustion, like he’s tired of pretending that something between you hasn’t changed. And when he steps forward, closing the last bit of space between you, your body reacts before your brain catches up.

Your back hits the wall behind you.

The old metal shelving is cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat rolling off him. He’s so close now, close enough that you catch the faint scent of pine and sweat clinging to him, close enough that every nerve in your body locks up, unsure whether to tense or melt.

His arms come up, hands bracing against the metal on either side of you, and suddenly you can’t look anywhere but at him.

Your breath feels too shallow.

Daryl dips his head slightly, breath warm against your cheek, and you hear the way he inhales, slow and deep, smelling the remnants of the apple shampoo you used days ago. 

“S’not like I haven’t thought of ya before.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and your lips part, but you don’t know what to say. You can barely think straight with him this close, his voice this low. He smells of musk and leather and summer sunshine, something distinctly masculine and Daryl all at once. His words sink in, heavy and real, and before you can even process them, he huffs a quiet breath, shaking his head against the side of yours.

“Thought of ya a lot, actually.”

Your stomach twists, heat flaring under your skin.

Daryl pulls back just enough to look at you, and that’s when you see it—the way his pupils are blown, the way his breath comes slow and measured like he’s still holding something back. His jaw is tight, his fingers flex slightly against the metal, and you don’t know whether he’s waiting for permission or for you to push him away.

“Say somethin’,” he murmurs, voice rough like gravel in your ears. “Please.”

You reach up then, your hand trembling slightly as your fingers brush along his jaw, skimming over the uneven scruff growing in patches on his face. He exhales, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you trace up along his cheekbone, down the side of his neck, feeling the tension there, the way his pulse beats strong beneath your fingertips.

“I think of you a lot too,” you finally manage to say, and it’s barely louder than a whisper.

His eyes open, still blown wide as they flicker between yours, then drop to your lips. His breath is slow, measured, like he’s forcing himself to hold back.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe. It’s more than just a response—it’s permission, it’s consent, letting him know that whatever he’s thinking, whatever’s been running through his mind, you want it too.

And like you’ve just cut the cord that’s been wound too tight between you, he pushes forward, his lips crashing into yours with urgency.

You’re surprised just how soft his lips are, how gentle he tries to be, but the way he moves is anything but hesitant. There’s no testing, no waiting—he’s done holding back, done second-guessing. He kisses you like he’s been starving for it, like it’s something he’s wanted for too damn long, and you can’t help but act in equal fervor.

Your fingers tighten against his jaw, then slide up into his hair, gripping, pulling. He groans into your mouth, the sound low, wrecked, sending a sharp pulse of heat straight through you. His hands move without restraint now, gripping at your waist, fingers pressing into your hips, pulling you closer like the space between you is unbearable.

You barely register the sharp clatter of bottles knocked from the shelves as your back presses harder against the metal. Daryl doesn’t seem to care. If anything, the mess spurs him on, makes him more reckless, more desperate.

He kisses you deeper, tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your legs weak, makes your stomach tighten. He’s breathing hard, fingers digging into your sides, body pressing fully into you now, until there’s nothing between you but heat and friction.

His lips drag from your mouth down to your jaw, then lower, his breath hot as he murmurs against your skin. “Been losin’ my mind over you all damn week.” His teeth catch on the pulse in your neck, not biting, just grazing, making you shudder. “Longer than that, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Your nails bite into his shoulders as he kisses lower, pressing into the spot just beneath your jaw, the one that makes your breath hitch. His hands are everywhere—roaming, gripping, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips brush against bare skin, warm and rough, and you arch into his touch without thinking.

“Daryl…”

He groans at the way you say his name, a quiet, broken sound that sends a deep shudder through his body. He presses his forehead against yours for a second, breath ragged, like he’s trying to steady himself but failing. Then his hands tighten on your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter of the pharmacy.

You gasp softly, but he’s already between your legs, already pulling you flush against him, the heat between your bodies unbearable. His lips are on yours again, claiming, devouring, his hands moving up your thighs, squeezing, gripping like he can’t get enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you kiss him harder, the urgency between you growing into something more frantic, more consuming. His hands slide beneath your shirt, pushing it up and over your head, and you shiver as his palms drag over your ribs, rough and warm.

His mouth leaves yours just long enough to mutter against your skin, voice thick with something wild, something unraveling. “You sure about this?”

Your only answer is to pull him back in, crashing your lips to his, fingers fisting in his shirt as you tug him closer, needing him, needing more.

That’s all he needs. His shirt is gone in the next instant with yours following suit, and the moment the fabric is over your head, his lips are on you again, everywhere. You arch into his touch, heat rolling through you as his mouth works down your neck, trailing over your collarbone, then lower. Each kiss leaves behind something electric, something you feel everywhere, and when he drags lower still, down onto your bare chest, his lips and teeth and tongue worship everywhere but where you want him most.

Your breath hitches, your hands restless, gripping at his arms, his shoulders, his hair—anywhere you can reach, anywhere you can pull him closer. He’s between your legs now, his body solid, burning against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, fingers flexing like he’s holding himself back.

You look down at him, ready to beg, but the sight of him wrecks you.

Daryl between your legs, his lips on your skin, mouth open, breath warm as he stares at you like he’s never seen anything like you before.

Any coherent thought vanishes the moment his lips close around your nipple.

A breathless moan leaves your lips as his tongue flicks over it, hot and slow, sending a deep ache curling low in your stomach. His rough fingers knead your other breast, rolling and pinching your sensitive skin in just the right way, his touch deliberate, like he’s learning you, like he’s memorizing every reaction.

You arch into him, pressing closer, needing more, but he keeps the pace slow, like he’s savoring every second, like he wants to soak in every feel of your body against his. 

His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, lips tugging gently before he soothes it with another slow flick, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His other hand stays firm on your breast, rolling, kneading, fingers rough with callouses as he works you over with slow, steady intent. It’s almost too much, yet not enough, and you feel yourself tilting between the two sensations, every nerve in your body locked onto the way he’s touching you, kissing you, like he never wants to stop.

You’re barely aware of your own sounds, the quiet gasps, the soft moans, the way your hands dig into his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, needing him closer. His mouth moves lower, lips dragging down your stomach, his hands sliding along your sides, gripping your waist like he’s grounding himself.

Then, just when you think he’s going to keep going, he stops.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, chest rising and falling, lips slick and parted. His hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs brushing slow over your skin, and he swallows, throat bobbing as he exhales through his nose.

“Turn around,” he murmurs, voice wrecked, thick with something dark, something unfiltered.

Your breath catches.

You do as he says, shifting, dropping your feet to the floor and gripping the edge of the counter to steady yourself as you twist in his hold. The air feels even thicker now, hotter, your pulse hammering as his hands slide over your hips, guiding you exactly where he wants you.

His palms press firm against your lower back, tracing down to your waist before his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants. There’s no rush in the way he tugs them down, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every new inch of skin he reveals. The scrape of fabric against your thighs sends a shiver rolling through you, and when they finally pool at your ankles, his hands smooth back up, gripping, kneading, pulling you back into him.

A sharp inhale leaves your lips when you feel him press against you, his breath warm at the curve of your neck. His fingers flex at your hips, gripping tight, like he’s still trying to hold himself back, like he’s at war with the need running through him.

“Goddamn,” he mutters under his breath.

You don’t have time to respond before his lips are on your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin, hands gripping you tighter, pulling you flush against him. The heat of him seeps through you, burning into your skin, your body molding against his like you were always meant to fit there.

Then, slowly, his hand slides up.

You barely register the shift before the weight of his arm is curling around your neck, firm but careful, forearm bracing across your throat, holding you in place. The solid strength of his muscles—it’s everything you imagined, everything you tried so hard to ignore when the thought first crossed your mind.

A low, rough chuckle rumbles against your ear.

“This what you wanted, ain’t it?” His voice is gravel, wrecked, thick with something primal as his breath ghosts along your jaw. His hold tightens just slightly, just enough to make you shudder. “My arm around this pretty neck?”

His words send a shudder through you, pooling heat low in your stomach as your hands grip the counter harder. His arm is thick around your neck, a steady weight that makes you dizzy with want, and when he tightens it just slightly, enough to make you feel it, a whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Yes,” you breathe, voice barely there.

Daryl stills for half a second like he wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily. Then he makes a noise low in his throat, something rough, something wrecked, and his grip on you tightens.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice thick, warm, almost tender in contrast to how strong he feels behind you. His nose brushes against your jaw, his lips grazing over your pulse as his other hand trails lower, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your hip. “What a sweet thing you are”

The praise sends a jolt through you, your breath catching, fingers twitching against the counter as he shifts behind you. Then you hear it, a belt coming loose and buckle clattering to the floor with the jeans he was wearing and suddenly you feel him– heavy and thick as he nudges against you, the heat of it pressing right against your slick entrance.

Your whole body tenses, then melts, nails digging into his arm where it rests against your throat. 

Daryl lets out a slow, shuddering breath, nipping lightly at the edge of your ear before murmuring, “Christ, barely touched you and you’re all wet. This all for me?” His hips press forward again, slow, teasing, and you let out a quiet whimper, pushing back into him without thinking. His cock notches into you then, and you both let out a sudden gasp.

“That’s it,” he praises, lips pressing against the shell of your ear, his voice low and soothing and coaxing as his cock sinks deeper into you. “You’re so damn good. Feels good, don’t it?”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk like this before, soft and filthy all at once, like he’s pouring everything he has into the way he touches you, the way he holds you. You nod, swallowing hard. “So good, Daryl.”

His breath turns heavier, warmer against your skin as he pulls you back onto him, slow and steady, letting you feel every inch as he buries himself inside you. His grip tightens at your hip, steadying you, holding you exactly where he wants you, but the real weight—the one that sends a full-body shudder through you—is his arm, still firm around your neck. You back arches against him, leaning into the muscles of his forearm as he holds you into the crook of his elbow.

“There you go,” he rasps, his voice strained, wrecked. His hips rock forward again, sinking deeper, stretching you, and a ragged moan slips from your lips. His grip flexes, and he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, lips warm, tongue flicking against your pulse before he nips at it, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. “Knew you’d take me so good.”

Your nails dig harder into his arm, fingers curling around his wrist where he holds you, your breath hitching as he starts to move. Slow at first, testing, drawing himself out before pushing back in, each roll of his hips deliberate, each thrust pressing deeper, setting a rhythm that already has you unraveling.

His arm around your neck tightens, just slightly, just enough to make your next breath stutter, to make the heat between your legs coil tighter.  His breath is hot against your ear, rough and ragged, the tension in his body coiled so tight you can feel it thrumming through his chest, through the arm braced around your throat.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, his voice raw, nearly pained as he rocks into you. "You don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me."

His hips move with slow precision at first, teasing, working you open, dragging out every sensation like he wants you to feel him, to know that he’s the one making you come apart like this. His fingers dig into your hip, pulling you back onto him, the blunt head of his cock pressing deep with every thrust.

"Been thinkin’ about this," he murmurs, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "Bout how tight you’d feel, how fuckin’ perfect you’d take me. You feel that, baby?" He drives into you harder then, pushing you flush against the counter, stealing your breath with the sheer force of it. "Feels better than I ever imagined."

Your nails claw at his arm, breath ragged as his grip tightens just slightly around your neck, just enough to hold you there, to keep you at his mercy. His hips snap into you then, harder and faster now that you’ve adjusted to the sheer stretch of his cock. 

"Shit," he groans, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your jaw, sucking at the delicate skin before biting down, his voice going strained. "You like this, don’t ya? Bein’ held like this? Wrapped up in me, nowhere to go."

You whimper, pushing back into him, chasing the heat, the pressure, the way he’s unraveling you piece by piece.

His free hand slides down, dipping between your legs, his fingers finding you slick and swollen, rubbing slow, purposeful circles that make your knees shake.

"Fuck, look at you," he mutters, pressing his forehead to the side of your head, his breath coming harder now. "Gettin’ all worked up, takin’ it so damn well." His fingers flick over your clit, pressing just right, and you let out a broken moan. "That’s it, baby. Let me hear you. Been dreamin’ ‘bout these sounds."

His thrusts grow rougher, deeper, and the tension in your belly coils tight, too tight, everything building.

Daryl feels it.

"Yeah," he breathes, his voice shaking now, wrecked with how good you feel around him. "I know, sweetheart. Feels like your body’s beggin’ for it, huh?" His lips drag over your jaw, his hips pounding into you now, chasing that high. "Wanna cum all over me, don’t ya?"

The coil snaps at his words, white-hot and blinding as his arm tightens, stealing the breath from you completely. Your entire body goes taut as pleasure crashes over you, so sharp and overwhelming as your lungs scream for air. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing tight, and Daryl groans deep in his chest, his rhythm going sloppy, erratic.

"Shit, you’re milkin’ me, baby," he groans, his fingers moving to grip your hips, "Goddamn, you feel like fuckin’ heaven." 

He holds you, hips pinning you against the counter as he buries himself deep, shuddering against you as he spills inside you.

His hold around your neck finally eases, his hand smoothing over your collarbone, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses against the side of your neck as both of you come down together.

"You alright?" His voice is quieter now, rough around the edges, but there’s something tender in it, something real.

You exhale shakily, your body still humming from the aftershocks, a slow, blissed-out smile creeping across your lips. "Yeah. That was… that was so hot."

Daryl huffs out a small, breathless laugh, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of your neck. His hands keep roaming, slow and absentminded, smoothing over your waist, tracing lazy circles along your hips, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet.

"Yeah?" He nuzzles into your shoulder, his lips grazing your damp skin. "Ain’t never tried it before." His voice is warm, a little smug, but softer than before, like he’s still coming down from it too.

You hum, stretching slightly against him, still pressed chest to back. "Me neither. Somethin’ about you, Dixon."

Daryl makes a sound deep in his throat, something pleased, something almost knowing. His fingers tighten just slightly at your hip, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw before he murmurs, "Ain’t gonna be the last time, neither."

“Promise?” you chuckle, turning in his arms to snake your hands around his neck.

Daryl smirks, slow and lazy, his breath warm against your skin as he tilts his head, letting your fingers slip into his hair. His hands slide lower, resting at the curve of your back, holding you against him like he has no intention of letting go.

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice rough but sure. "Promise."

His lips find yours again, softer this time, slower, like he’s savoring it, like he’s already thinking about the next time, about how he’ll take his time with you, about all the things he wants to do.

[anhedoniawrites]

all those dreams where you’re my wife

gif by @reidgif

inside your mind - the 1975

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

summary: coming down from the highs of sex, Spencer and Reader talk about his brain and its thoughts.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 2.1K

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, this is an old piece of writing.

masterlist!

Panting softly, your breath mingled with his, your chest rising and falling in tandem with Spencer’s. Your body felt weightless, the afterglow of your shared passion wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Sweat clung to your skin, and the soft hum of his heartbeat echoed in your ear where your head rested against his shoulder. The intimacy of the moment felt sacred, a shared silence that spoke volumes without words.

Spencer was unusually quiet. Not that his silence was uncommon—he often retreated into his mind after moments like this, his thoughts working in overdrive as if the endorphins had unlocked new pathways in his brilliant brain. He’d once explained to you that post-coital clarity often helped him connect dots he’d never considered before. You’d always found it endearing, a quirk that made him uniquely Spencer.

But tonight, something was different. His quiet wasn’t contemplative—it felt heavier, like the weight of his thoughts pressed down on both of you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers hesitated as they traced lazy circles on your back, the way his chest rose with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” you murmured softly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His chin, which had been resting lightly against the crown of your head, shifted as he tilted his face toward you. His eyes, usually warm and filled with an endless stream of curiosity, now held a flicker of something else—something guarded.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if he were weighing his words. You could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he struggled to reconcile his thoughts with the honesty that had always been the cornerstone of your relationship.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but unconvincing.

It was a lie—a glaring, obvious lie. Spencer was many things: a genius, a profiler, a man who could recall entire books word for word. But a liar? Never. You knew him too well, knew the way his eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second when he was trying to mask the truth. He knew you knew, too, which made his attempt at deception almost endearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. “Spence,” you said gently, your tone a mix of affection and concern. “You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. Talk to me.”

His lips parted as if to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed again, this one deeper, as though the act of holding everything inside was physically exhausting. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t scare me,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He let out a breath, his gaze darting away for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

You frowned, leaning closer. “Try me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

His hand moved softly, almost reverently, to the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine, pausing now and then as though he were mapping the curve of your skull. There was something purposeful in the way he touched you, something that felt more like exploration than comfort.

“I wish I could know you the way you know yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. His fingers continued their journey, tracing invisible patterns that only he could see. “I want to be able to have your brain all laid out in front of me, every thought, every memory, every piece of you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, his voice soft but steady as he continued, almost to himself. “The back of your head is at the front of my mind.”

He fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to untangle the thoughts swirling in his mind. His hand didn’t stop moving, the gentle rhythm of his touch grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I’ll just… watch you breathe.” His eyes flickered toward you, searching your face as though bracing for judgment, but his hand never faltered.

“I’ll watch the way your breathing slows, the way it evens out. It’s like… proof. Proof that you’re real, that you’re here with me. And then I start to wonder…” His voice trailed off, but the weight of his thoughts lingered in the air.

His fingers stilled briefly before resuming their gentle path, tracing the base of your skull as though it held the answers he was searching for. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “I wonder if you dream of me, or of the things you love, or the things you want in life. And I can’t help but think about how much I want to know every part of you. What makes you happy, what makes you sad, what you think about when no one’s watching.”

His other hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. His gaze was intense, those wide, earnest eyes searching yours for understanding. There was no shame in his vulnerability, only a raw, unfiltered need to be known and to know you in return.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re the most important person in my life, and sometimes it terrifies me how much I feel for you. Like… like I’ll never be able to express it the way I want to.”

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand lingered on your cheek, the other still cradling the back of your head as though he could hold your thoughts in his palm.

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead lowering until it rested against yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear.

For a moment, he stayed like that, his eyes closed, his breathing syncing with yours. His hands stayed gentle, as though he were afraid of breaking the moment. And then he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of a love too big for words.

In the quiet that followed, his touch said everything he couldn’t, and you let it.

In the gentle quiet of the room, Spencer’s voice broke through like a fragile thread, hesitant yet determined. “I mainly watch you sleep because I’m terrified of my mind,” he admitted, his tone a mix of vulnerability and unease. He hesitated, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as if debating whether to pull the veil back on his inner torment.

His gaze dropped to the floor, his breath catching slightly as he continued. “When I sleep…” he started, the words trembling on the edge of his lips. “I dream that you’ve been taken. It’s always the same. I’m helpless, paralyzed—every step I take feels like wading through quicksand, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach you.”

His voice grew quieter, a raw edge creeping into it, but he forced himself to keep going. “By the time I finally get to you, it’s too late. You’re lying there…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, as though the very memory of the dream clawed at his throat. “You’re lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. And the only thing I can see, the thing that haunts me even after I wake up, is the ring on your finger.” The room seemed to close in on you, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to such a confession. You’d never talked about marriage—not explicitly, at least—but there had always been an unspoken understanding between you two. You both wanted it, you both felt it in your bones, but life had never given you the time to explore that possibility.

But hearing Spencer speak of the ring, of the symbol of everything you meant to him, in such a terrifying, haunting context—it shook you. The dream wasn’t just about losing you; it was about him failing you. About the one thing that represented his commitment, his love for you, now twisted into something horrific, something he couldn’t escape.

Your mind raced, trying to process the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You could see it now—the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he held himself. Spencer was afraid. Afraid of losing you, fearful of not being able to protect you.

In that moment, the love between you felt both fragile and immense. You reached out to him, your hand finding his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the storm of his emotions. You didn’t need to say anything—he already knew how much you cared. But still, you squeezed his hand, hoping to convey everything that words couldn’t.

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s supposed to be a symbol of everything good, everything I’ve ever wanted to give you. But in that moment, it feels like a mockery—a cruel reminder that I couldn’t protect you. That I failed you.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering in the air like a fragile echo. He looked at you then, his gaze pleading for understanding, for some assurance that the horrors of his subconscious didn’t define him.

“Spencer Reid, you could never fail me, not ever. Don’t ever think that,” you said softly, your voice steady but full of the weight of everything you felt. Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks gently, guiding his gaze to meet yours. You could see the self-doubt in his eyes, the fear that had taken root there, and it made your heart ache.

He opened his mouth to protest, but you pressed your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to hear you, to understand. “You’ve given me so much in this life, Spencer,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, but every word carried the depth of your emotions. “So much that I never thought I deserved, but you showed me that I do. You showed me that I’m worthy of love, of happiness. That I’m worthy of you.”

You could feel the weight of your words sink in as Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes flickering with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. It wasn’t just the love you had for him—it was everything he had done for you, everything he had helped you realize about yourself.

You gently pulled one of your hands away from his face, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand, placing it over your chest, just above your heart. “This…” you said, your voice catching in your throat as you pressed his hand against the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “This is because of you. Every beat, every breath—it’s because of the love you’ve given me. You make me feel alive in a way I never thought was possible.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. The quiet intensity of the moment wrapped around both of you, and you could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the fear, the guilt, the love—and you wanted to lift it off him, even if only for a moment.

You leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent promise that you were there, that you always would be. Then, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, you whispered, “Spencer, you don’t ever need to worry about failing me. You’re everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll never let you forget that.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed, and without thinking, he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours, a kiss that spoke of gratitude and love, a kiss that grounded you both in the present moment. When he pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile, brushing your thumb lightly over his cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. And before you could respond, you kissed him again, this time deeper, letting the weight of everything you had just shared hang in the air between you like a promise, unspoken but undeniable.

thank you for reading!

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist!

taglist! @pleasantwitchgarden

[oatmealthighs]

-`♡´- plug!eren x blackfem!reader

ᯓᰔ contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. reader indulges 🍃, eren is overprotective, public sex, maybe semi public? idk. daddy/mama usage. might be some slightly toxic dynamics. but nothing too serious. rushed ending cus i suck at endings 💔 a sequel full of fluff will be coming soon out of this.

ᯓᰔ author's note: omg i haven't posted in like months. but anyways what would i be without dropping the token plug!eren drabble. nothing too crazy, just some bathroom sex. also there are instances where there are texts but i got too lazy and didn't bother making texts out of them mwahahahaaa sorry in advance. this is barely proofread and not my best so if there are mistakes i am sorry. requests are open! also look out for a tengen x reader x wives fic coming really soon. like this week soon

the feeling of your phone buzzing in the back pocket of your true religion jeans whisked your attention away from the pearled blunt you had pinched between your fingers.

your glossy lips curled into a little smirk, your acrylics clicking at the keyboard of your screen.

you've been pushing eren's cute lil buttons all night. honestly all day... but you didn't feel bad for making him sweat. he's been trying you as of late.

you and eren were supposed to be spending some quality time together last night, and he was specifically supposed to be over your place by no later than 8:00. you had the whole shabang... bath and body works candle burning out, led lights on and set to the color purple, some of his favorite snacks and some dinner and dessert you had wrapped up for him that you had made earlier. you were planning on watching a show with him, giving him a scalp massage while he played his playstation that he always brought whenever he came over, and give him the best head he's ever received that night before riding him into the sunset, but all those plans went soiled. 8:00 came, and on the dot he had sent a text message about him having to go make a few more drop offs, then he'd come to you. 8 turned to 9, then 10:30, then 1... fucking... AM.

was it fucked up you didn't answer the door when he came knocking finally? kinda, but the guilt didn't last long when you thought about how he practically stood you up.

eren was a popular plug on the university you attended. you knew friday is usually the day that people were trying to cop, given it was majority people's payday and the weekend, but you were hoping that he would close up shop early just this one time for you. his clientele would live-- there were plugs by the dozen on campus. but eren knew wasn't none of them fucking with his shit. you weren't sure what other outcome you were expecting. he never turned his head away from possible income.

eren already knew he fucked up, but he knew ultimately in the end it was going to be worth it. the extra money was going to go into play towards his proposal to ask you to be his girlfriend, and no amount of your anger was going to get that out of him. he was prepared to keep his mouth shut, throw away the key, and take his lashings like a man. so when he was met with radio silence, he was flabbergasted.

when he pulled up to your crib and didn't get an answer from him knocking on your door and calling your phone, he figured you fell asleep and resulted in retreating to his abode. the next morning, when he woke up to find that you didn't respond to his apology texts from last night, it made him sit up in his bed and squint at his phone with crust-ridden eyes.

no response? it was so unlike you. usually you would respond with a barrage of text messages stating your feelings, or at the very least he'd get a passive-aggressive dry text from you. but to be met with nothing at all made his gut twist in a disgustingly vexing way.

he rubs at his temples, sending you a "good morning baby" text before opening the safari app and going to the local floral shop's delivery site.

later that afternoon, eren's sitting in his blacked out durango when he receives email confirmation that the flowers have been delivered, the low hum of the strong engine the only thing somewhat soothing his frazzled nerves. he made sure to get your favorite, and tried to ask them to incorporate your favorite color as much as possible.

he checks your location as he hits his blunt, releasing the smoke from his mouth and inhaling it through his nostrils. he already knows your home, having your schedule downpack. and you were. so why didn't you say anything about the flowers? did you not like them? he sends you a text, saying, "i sent you some flowers," staring at the screen and awaiting your response.

yess, you know he sent you flowers, and you loved them. you had gasped when you found them on your porch, bright and vibrant in color and smelling so freshly sweet. you had already cut the stems and put them in some warm water in a lovely vase. you almost wanted to text eren, to tell him how much you loved them and thank you, but the strong annoyance you had from last night still lingered. with a twist of your lips you disregarded your phone on the kitchen counter, humming a tune as you moved about the kitchen to prepare you a nice lunch.

eren releases a defeated sigh as he puts his jay out, not even in the mood to smoke anymore. mopily, he clicks off his phone, shifting his gear to drive to make more plays.

he spends the rest of the day pondering ways to possibly pull a conversation from you, and a lightbulb flickers in his head when he recalls you saying you were running low on weed. eren always gives you gas free of charge, one of the special privileges that comes with being his favorite girl. he opens his phone to text you again.

doechii's expressive voice flows through your speaker at a volume level most would call excessive. but you didn't care. anything to drown out the annoying pensive thoughts of eren's sexy little face. "i ain't a killer but don't push me, don't wanna have to turn a nigga guts into SOUP BEANS!" no, really, doechii.

your phone vibrates on your vanity as you rummage through your closet for a cute outfit to wear tonight, striding over to your phone with nimbleness. you figured it'd be hitch, since you and her were accompanying each other to the kickback tonight and she was asking either what time you wanted to go or what you were wearing. your hypothesis was proven incorrect when you saw eren's name on your notification wall instead. just him asking if you wanted to him to drop off some more weed for you.

your heart twinged ever-so-softly at the thought of you ignoring your baby. you missed him. it was embarrassing to say this was the longest you went without talking to him. but how would he know you were serious if you just gave in now?

you wanted to respond and tell him you were cool. hitch was bringing the weed tonight. but you refrained, if anything that would get him all the more riled up. eren doesn't like you smoking others weed, his reasoning being he doesn't "trust their product." he was so sexy when he was protective. you remember when you told him you copped from someone else when he had to go off campus for a little bit to see his family, and he spent a half hour inspecting it on the scale with his phone flashlight.

eren let out an irritated growl after constantly checking his phone for 10 minutes, still no reply from you in his notifications. he wanted to tell you you were dragging it, but he knew you weren't. you had every right to be pissed with him given he had promised you this quality time and swore he would make time for you. you were never a stickler for too much attention, but with eren always on the run it was easy for him to neglect you. he's been getting better at it though. until last night.

connie's name flashes across eren's phone screen. he slides the answer button right and lets his car sync the call to the radio. "yo."

"what's good, man. you coming to the kickback tonight? it's gonna be at jean's place." eren rolls his neck until he hears it pop. he knows you'll be there.

"yeah, i might come. today's been slow. don't got nothin' else to do."

"damn, i know that voice. what'd you do this time?"

eren weakly chuckles at connie's intuition. "what can i say, business was booming like crazy last night. we were supposed to hang out but my phone just kept ringing."

connie let out a long sigh over the line. "typical eren, never knows when to close shop." he pauses. "you know you're the asshole, right?"

"yeah," eren groans, shutting his car off and putting his phone on speaker. "i know. i plan on making it up to her."

"yeah, how? surely not with some weed and dick." connie snorts. "[name]'s a nice girl, you plan on locking it down with her anytime soon? i see the way floch be looking at her."

"he wouldn't dare," eren denies, the simple thought of it just making his eye twitch. while you and eren weren't official, basically everyone in the friend group and the vicinity knew y'all were on each other bad. but some assholes just didn't respect boundaries. he noticed floch's gaze would linger on you a little longer than he deemed appropriate. how they would trail your body. he noticed the way his cheeks would blush when you would speak to him in passing or make small talk.

"i dunno, man," connie instigated, smugness in his voice. "but, bring a quarter with you. it's on me, i'm gonna zelle you."

"just send me $50." eren and connie exchange a few last words before they end the call, leaving eren in silence as he stares at the gray wall of the parking garage he was parked in. he didn't know what he was gonna do about you.

eren always tended to look the sexiest when you were mad at him, or he was upset with you. he always would wear his hair down, taupe tresses brushing his broad shoulders. he'd always wear a black tee and some baggy sweatpants that always had you imagining what it was he had underneath. it was nothing you haven't seen, but it was always a pleasant surprise.

you felt your defiance wavering when he and all is glory walked in to jean's house, high as fuck. you swore you could smell his ysl cologne from across the room.

"you okay girl?" sasha questions, her eyebrows pinching in concern as she leans into your eyesight. you blink your mascara coated lashes, giving her a smile.

"yeah, my man just walked in. he always looks so good when im pissed at him."

"it's a trap. don't fall for it." hitch scoffs, her hazel eyes trained on the blunt she was busy rolling. her thighs were squeezed together to keep her carebear rolling tray in place. "don't even look his direction."

"i forget hitch is such a hard-ass. how does marlo manage," ymir jokes. historia chuckles, her head resting against her girlfriend's broad shoulder.

as their conversation goes on, your eyes can't help but find eren again through the decent amount of people crowding the bottom floor of the house, watching him interact with connie and hand him a bag of what you assumed to be cannabis. his turquoise eyes cut across the room, and you know he's looking for you. you look away before any eye contact can happen. when you feel eyes burn into your skin, you know he spots you.

the night involves you acting as if he doesn't exist, keeping your back turned and acting like you're too busy to acknowledge your phone notifications. when you finally light the blunt hitch pearled, you know eren texts you asking where did you get that. you chuckle to yourself as your thoughts were confirmed when you snuck a peek at your phone.

eren feels anger welling in his body as he watches you from a safe distance, lounging against the wall and his eyes never leaving you. you knew what you were doing at this point. wearing them jeans that made your ass sit so perfect and a crop top that teased at your skin and your belly button piercing. your hair was in curls, and your glittery lip gloss shone in the low light of the room. he knew you probably had on his favorite perfume too. that vanilla one he loved so much.

"just go talk to her dude," connie yells over the aggravatingly loud jersey mixed song that was booming through the surround sound, his words slightly slurred from the drink he's been sipping on. eren furrows his thick brows as he hits his spliff, watching the tip burn bright orange as he shuts his eyes for a moment. "and you better hurry. i think tonight's the night floch makes his move."

"connie, shut the fuck up." eren's tone is firm and warning as he feels the vein in his neck rising to the surface of his skin. he finally opens his eyes, glancing at you, and what he sees makes his stomach cave and everything around him turn red.

floch, with his ugly fucking haircut and that ugly dangling earring had the audacity to be all up in your glory, smiling sheepishly as you were saying something to him. he doesn't know what you were saying, your back was to him, but the way your head swayed and your hands were moving he knew you were talking.

honestly eren was never this defensive of someone before. maybe it was your constant insistence of you being fine on your own. "boy, i'm grown," you'd say to him. it only made his instinct to protect you grow stronger.

he knew well you could handle your own. but how fucking dare him?! it's like floch was begging for an ass whooping!

he wasn't actually. he was begging for you to send him the homework answers for your chem class. "not gonna lie floch, i haven't even looked at that shit yet," you admit with a shrug, your lips pulled into a friendly smile.

floch groans as he rubs the back of his neck. "i'm for sure gonna flunk that class. i might just say fuck it and retake it next year."

"not if i can help it," you interject, furrowing your brows. "we pass together, we fail together. i'll send you the answers on groupme tomorrow when i finish."

floch pumps his fist. "man, you're the fucking best, [name]. if you weren't in there i dunno what i'd–"

a hard body brushes past floch, harshly and intentionally slamming his shoulder into theirs. "hey, man, what the–"

you smell eren before you see him, wearing that delicious cologne that's stained into your bed sheets. you look up to find him looking down at you, fire in his sea green irises as he glares at you.

you feign oblivion, lifting an eyebrow at him. "hey," you speak first.

"why haven't you been responding to my texts." his voice is curt, but still soft nonetheless. you feel your girls looking at you intently to see how you were going to play this.

"been busy, sorry," you respond, not sounding much too apologetic.

eren cuts his eyes to the right to see floch still standing there, much to his distaste, a look of confusion plastered across his face. "you need somethin'?" he asks him, a foreign, cutting edge to his question.

"i was just trying to ask her about the homework, dude," floch bites back defensively, taking the smallest step back.

your dainty hand trails up to grab eren's forearm, your soft, irreplicable touch quelling his aggravation. you swear you could feel his taut muscles relax at your contact, knowing he was probably deprived. so dramatic.

"eren, calm down," you reprimand him gently, but sternly. you gave floch an apologetic glance. "sorry, floch. see you tuesday."

floch nods, his auburn eyebrows creased in the middle as he glanced at eren, then back at you, before departing. in tandem, you let go.

"what's your problem," you seethe, but not loud enough for your friends to hear. "you damn near made that boy shit his pants."

eren sucked his teeth, closing his eyes to roll them as he clenched his jaw. "why are you ignoring me, [name]," his low voice is strained, constricting his internal anger to the best of his ability. his high was blown, the music was too loud, you smelled and looked too good, it was all too much.

you place a hand on your hip, your beautiful eyes passive, but holding a glint of hurt behind them. "just collect your breath. i don't wanna talk about it here... even though you know what the problem is-"

"yo, [name], wanna hit this again?" saved by the bell.

"yes, pleaseeee," you drawl. you turn on heels, but not before telling eren, "i'll see you later."

shortly after eren departed to god knows where, and you got high as hell, was when you received that text. and you don't know if it was the marijuana making you fuzzy and horny, the growing urge to just be in his arms, or what, but you complied.

as you brushed and weaved between drunken bodies, you couldn't subdue the underlying feelings of anxiety that swelled in your chest. you didn't know what to expect. but you knew one thing for certain, you were gonna give eren a piece of your mind tonight.

when you finally made it to the bathroom door, you released a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, shaking yourself of your jittery nerves before your knuckles rapped against the hollow wood of the door.

it wasn't even three seconds before eren cracked the door, and before you could say anything, you were yanked in.

you squealed at his presentation of strength, the butterflies in your stomach downward-diving straight to your core. "well, damn! what happened to hello? how are you?!"

eren ignored your playful reprimanding, instead using the time to soak and drink you in. you were so pretty, fussing at him like that. the way your glossy lips twisted as you spoke on about nothing relevant, the way your hair swayed with every movement you made. every muscle in his body urged him to kiss you, breathe you in.

"whatcha call me in here for? it's hot as hell..." you murmured, leaning against the cool wood of the door in attempt to catch your breath.

eren was quiet as he loomed on the opposite side of the bathroom, half-lidded cyan eyes carefully trained on you. you lifted your eyebrows with a shake of your head, prompting him to go on, your arms crossed against your glittery chest. "you're so pretty," he hums, a side smirk playing at his lips, showing his pretty white teeth that you wish you were nibbling on you just about right now.

"can't smooth-talk your way out of everything, eren," you resisted with a strain in your voice, turning to face the mirror to the left of you instead of him. "i'm still upset with you."

"rightfully so," eren agrees, slowly closing the distance between the two of you, backing you against the cool oak wood of the bathroom door. "'m sorry baby, you know i love spending time with you more than anything in this world–"

"i beg to differ," you interject. eren rests his eyes as he clenches his jaw, withholding a sigh. "all i asked was that you put me first for one night... and you couldn't even do that."

"baby, listen to me." eren's large hand engulfs yours, the warmth of his palm spreading through your limbs like wildfire. "words can't even begin to express how deeply sorry i am. i know i fucked up... i know. but, i had reason i've been wanting to work a lot more often as of late." he pauses. he couldn’t possibly pop his question in a bathroom at connie’s party. you’d hate him ten times more than you already do in his moment.

you cock your brow, looking up at him through those pretty lashes that framed your eyes so well. “i’m waiting, eren.”

he sucks in a deep breath, making the sound he usually makes when he’s about to say something you don’t like. “just… trust me. okay?”

that was enough to make you head for the door, reaching out to twist at the knob before he grabs at your wrist. “man, move,” you mutter, over the bullshit. you were over it all: the lies, the empty promises. and you were especially over being crowded in this bathroom with him, because you felt your resolve faltering with each passing second you remained in his presence. you felt like an animal resisting every primal instinct and bone in your body, begging you to let him touch you. it was borderline pathetic.

“you aren’t going anywhere, [name].” he meant that in more ways than one.

“how much you wanna bet?”

the frustrated glint in his aquamarine eyes and the knit in his thick brows made your knees give.

“ummm, have you guys seen [name]?” hitch asks after a good thirty minutes fly by since you first departed the group, skating her eyes around the living room with a quizzical glance.

ymir snorts. “you already know she ran off with that boy,” she exhaled the smoke she was holding in her chest out towards the ceiling, running her long fingers through historia’s golden locks. “wouldn’t be surprised if she already dipped off with him.”

not quite. instead, you and eren were still in the bathroom, your ass on the bathroom counter and your head resting against the mirror as eren was crouched before you, low to the ground as he slurped at your pussy like a man starved. he looks up at you from his place between your thighs, tongue flicking at your swollen clit before taking it into his mouth to suck on it whole. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your eyes rolling behind your closed eyelids as eren gazed up at you with hearts in his eyes. you were always so fucking beautiful, whether you were mad at him, grinning at him, or cumming for him.

“fuuuck, i think i’m bouta cum again,” you whimper, your eyebrows pinched as your orgasm brewed at a slow boil within the pit of your stomach. you already left your mark all over the marble sink, leaking down your thighs, and all over eren’s chin. but when was that ever enough to satiate his thirst?

“do it, baby,” he breathes, french kissing your pussy before speaking again. “you know i want it.”

“get it outta me, then,” you retort, a sexy simper pulling at your lips, and the darkened glare he have you through heavy eyelids made your pussy squeeze.

his big hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging in your skin as he begins rocking your lower body up and down, sliding his long tongue from between your pussy lips to your ass with each bounce. you let out a squeal of surprise, your pink toes wriggling as he just kept doing it, over and over and over. you hear him, moaning with each stride, reveling in the saccharine taste of you. his dick felt like it was bouta break, restricted to his boxer briefs, and he felt the sticky precum leaking on his thigh. he needed to fuck you. but he always prioritizes you over all.

your orgasm bust inside you, your pussy profusely contracting as your juices coated eren’s face. “fuck, yeah,” he encourages in you, his voice in a low growl of satisfaction. he didn’t stop, cleaning you up and slurping your pussy clean. you flinched as he left a final loving kiss to your aching clit, and he chuckled as he stood to his feet. your eyes couldn’t help but look at his crotch, you couldn’t help but smirk at the prominent tent of his stiff dick being held hostage in his sweatpants. “turn around for me. i want you to see me fuck you.”

you slid off off the counter, ringing your panties off the ankle they were hanging on to, before turning around, leaning against the sink and arching your back. you looked back at him, gazing at him tauntingly. “whatchu waiting for?”

“cool it,” he warns you playfully, his thumbs hooking into the bands of his sweats. "don't bite off more than you can chew."

"i've had mouthfuls of you. i promise you i can chew."

"look at the mirror."

you turn back forward, looking at eren in the reflection. he was so pretty, his hickory locks tousled around yet still framing his face beautifully. his bottom lip was pinched between his teeth as he shifts his pants to fall below his knees before rolling his briefs down his thighs. he lifts his tshirt up, showcasing his tan abs that had a slight shimmer of perspiration as he readies the head of his dick at your opening. then, with steady hips and a deep breath, he pushes forward.

him putting his cock inside of you was such an irreplicable feeling, you don't know how to explain it. to feel his girth stretching you, giving you a burn that was so deliciously good, always made your head spin. you whine, pushing your ass back just a little bit to help eren bottom out in you. he cusses under his breath, grounding himself with a hand on your ass cheek as his pelvis met flush against your tailbone.

you felt his dick twitching inside you, and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan as you let your head drop against your arms folded over the sink. eren grit his teeth, his jaw clenching as he tries to regain his composure. you were so warm, so wet, so greedy judging by the way your pussy squeezed him like a vice. any sudden movements and he was bound to nut in you.

suddenly, the bathroom knob jiggles, followed by pounding against the door. you jump, your muscles stiffening as fear tickled at your tummy. eren hisses, his nails digging crescents in your cocoa buttered skin at you tightening around him. "uh, anyone in there? i gotta piss!" connie. what are the fucking odds.

"uhh, give me a few minutes!" you yell, your voice uncharacteristically shrill from your newborn anxiety as you looked back at eren with wide eyes. "maybe we should-"

you were shut up with one, heavy stroke, eren almost completely unsheathing himself before bottoming out in you again. your words died in your throat, replaced with a gasp.

"uh, okay...?" the end of connie's okay drawls up in the end. "wait, [name], is that you? are you straight in there?"

"yes... fuck, yes!" you sputter out, squeezing your eyes shut as eren picks up his speed a bit, but not his power. he was gonna do you a favor and not fuck you too dumb in here. he wants you to at least have some chance of walking out of here on your own two feet. "i'm fine!"

"okay, okay! i'll just go upstairs." after a few seconds, you hear connie shifting away, but that genuinely wasn't your main focus. eren was rolling his hips, making sure the tip of his dick hit that sweet spot that made you sing with every. single. thrust. your head was down, resting against the counter, your eyes stuck in the back of your head as you took every inch of him with grace. your moans were mere whimpers, trying your best to muffle them with the inside of your arm.

eren sees his phone vibrate from his place on the hanging shelf beside him, and he smirks to himself when he takes a brisk glance at the banner:

convict: [name]'s in the bathroom. she didnt sound too great so u should prolly check in on her

eren groans under his breath, leaning forward to mold his abdomen against the curvature of your spine. that motion was enough to make him feel like he was touching your stomach. "what are you doing?" he purrs, flicking his tongue out to lick at the shell of your ear. he feels you shiver, your shoulders shuddering as a sex-soaked cry escaped your lips. "i said i want you to watch me fuck you. why are you hiding that pretty face?"

you had nothing but a pathetic moan to offer as a response, and he scoffed to himself, a smirk curling at his lips. he stands straight, both of his hands settling at your lovehandles as he begins sending you to poundtown. the impact of his hips against your ass was loud, and there was no doubt that if anyone came to the door they would hear you getting the shit fucked out of you. "be a big girl, mama," he muses. his hand reaches for your curls, gripping your tresses to pull your head up and back. you squealed, your eyebrows pinching at the burning sensation. you mustered up the courage to flutter your eyes open to be met with the godly sight of your man, looking down at you throw those thick eyelashes, his cheeks tinting pink from the overwhelming heat of the small, crammed space. " watch me while i fuck you."

his wish is your command as you watch him through teary eyes, licking your lips at the feeling his hand snaking up the arch of your spine to come around and grip your chin. the pads of his fingers rest on your cheeks, slightly squeezing as he snaps his hips against you from behind. his eyes are boring into you, clouded by lust with a hint of adoration, watching the way your face contorts into pleasure-ridden expressions. he's watching the way your plump lips wrap around his thumb, the way your titties bounce with every deep thrust and threaten to spill out your victoria's secret bra and tank top, the way that fat ass jiggled and made waves every time he drilled his dick in you. you were perfect. from your pretty face, to your loving heart that had a padlock with his initial on it, to your gushing pussy that would squirt all over him just for him.

"this pussy is so perfect," eren hums, looking down in awe as he watches the way you cream and squeeze on his shaft. "it's like it was made just for me. was it, baby? this is just my pussy, right?"

"you know that, daddy," you slur, feeling your orgasm coming to a head. you were so ready to release, your pussy just aching to cum. you hear him give a chuckle, his hips speeding up in tandem.

"i think you're ready to cum now. i want it all on my dick. can you do that for me, princess? or is that too much to ask of you?"

but before you could even muster a response, it was as if a tsunami hit your pussy, because the way your juices sprayed against his upper thighs was a damn shame. eren lets out a moan of appreciation, biting his lip as he lets your orgasm ride out and coat his dick. he gives your ass a few appreciative cracks, making you tighten around his cock until you managed to collect your breath.

eren slowly begins unsheathing himself from you, his dick still solid as concrete but he honestly wasn't concerned with getting his own nut off right now. after all, this wasn't going to be the last time he was to be in you tonight. as soon as he takes you back to his place, he was gonna fuck you through the mattress and the bedframe.

"girl, there you are! you've been missing for like, an hour!" you bumped into hitch on your way towards the front door, eren being your guide but you squeezed his hand to let him know to stop. she shifts her eyes to him, then looks back at you with an "oh-i-see" look. "you headed home?"

"yeah, eren's gonna take me."

"okay, be safe," hitch adjusts your shirt, tugging the top hem over the shadows of your peeking bra. "call me when you get in."

"she will." eren assures hitch, and she nods, the two of you slipping away from the crowd and going off into the night.