#but it's straight up unbearable I hate it here

[rosieofcorona]

it might be time to quit my job fr

[hyewka]

—what a loser! | c.bg

୨୧ synopsis. hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.

୨୧ warnings. stoner!gyu, bratty sub!beomgyu, mean femdom, humiliation kink, VERY public, hair pulling, hate sex kind of, cunnilingus, use of pet, fuck buddies, reader has a priest dad, bit of a toxic dynamic

“Why’re you here?” he mumbles casting his eyes down to his feet as he idly skates around, not paying you even a little bit of eye contact or actual acknowledgement.

“Can we talk somewhere else? More private?”

He ignores you.

You huff, rolling your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. The sun had already set, there were even less people out—no one was skating around at this hour but Beomgyu. “Why—" you take a breath, already feeling yourself get emotional and angry, “Why did you go around telling people about us?”

There’s a few reasons circling your head. Attention, bragging rights—attention was a big one but you hoped, no, a part of you believes it was an accident. That he let the information slip from his lips when he was drunk, or out of his right mind. But with the way he’s acting, it’s getting harder to hold on to the belief that Beomgyu was misunderstood and not just a fucking asshole.

Too much time goes by with silence and you think hes blatantly ignoring you again, but then he halts his skating, taking the time to run a hand through his hair. Hair that you’ve regretfully played with days on end, twirling strands around your finger, giggling as if the foundation you’ve built your relationship on wasn’t such a fragile fire that could be snuffed out in seconds if not the tiniest bit careful.

Look where you are now.

“Dunno, ‘cuz I can.”

His eyes are on you, bangs parted, looking straight at you. You can’t get it out of your mind, how the ends of his lips twitched up as he said that. Bitch. Fucking bitch.

He finds this amusing. A game. Your reputation was a game to him. Of course it is. He never took anything serious, not his career, not his relationships, not his future—he never cared.

Your nostrils flare as you stomp large strides towards him, charging and shoving his chest, having him stumble backwards off his board, dryly laughing. “The goody two shoes about to commit an assault?”

“Oh fuck off, you wouldn’t dare try suing me. God, I hate you so much. You’re such a—such a fucking loser!” you yell.

That wiped off the cocky demeanour.

“Here’s some two cents for you, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whatever this is between us. I really couldn’t. But you—” your face gets heated up, pointing a finger at him. “You will never find anything better than what I gave you. And you’re going to live with that.”

He scoffs like he’s unbothered but it’s so clear with the way he clenches his jaw afterwards he’s pissed—it hit a spot. Good. Good, let him be hurt.

“What do you even—what did you gain by telling everybody my sex life? Having people call me a slut? Some sick pleasure from being superior to me for once? Attention? Huh? Why’re you acting out now?” Your eyes are narrowed as they implore answers out of him, searching his face and eyes, anything, anything that you can read from his unbearable silence.

“Yeah.”

You blink confused. “What?”

“Yeah, I wanted the attention. Happy now?” He walks to shoulder you but you let out a scoff, holding him back by his arm and pushing him in front of you again.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You just run away from everything!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating hes being.

“If you’re just going to stand there and insult me like a bitch I might as well just go and do something fucking productive.” he spits.

Your cheeks heat up and you think for the first time you understand the phrase of seeing red. Hes been poking and poking and poking with his nonchalance then later smugness then going onto just straight up disrespect—he was really pushing you. So he should’ve expected the hand that goes to strike him against his face—your chest rising up and down, brows furrowed deeply.

A faint red hand print blooms across his cheek, and his jaw falls slack, eyes blown out and wide. You suddenly grab him by the back of his hair, no doubt burning his scalp with the way he lets out a loud hiss. “I fucking hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

You’re so close to his face and everything about the way he’s looking at you gives you the chills. You hate him. You do. He’s insane, he’s selfish, he’s rude, he’s—

A shaky lopsided grin still manages to break from his face, “No you don’t.”

And that was your last straw.

The addictive nature about Beomgyu is what kept you coming back over and over again—he never lead, he just let you…take him. And sometimes, at a point of your life where you feel like everythings being controlled for you, not having the choice to make the decisions you like, this somewhat served as an outlet.

That’s the more…reasonable explanation.

The other explanation is simple. He’s so fucking sexy.

The way he still melts into a kiss so harsh and mean, attempting to cup your cheeks, but immedietely dropping it when he feels your disapporval, his whimpers already picking up, not taking any incentive to breathe as if this kiss was enough to keep him alive; it’s those little things that have you up in the middle of the night thinking about him. Him.

Beomgyu, the stereotypical bad-boy stoner hipster outcast—the antithesis of everything present in your picture perfect life—he keeps you up at night. The mix of weed and his hilariously bad attempt at covering it with febreeze and cologne wafts your scent, it overwhelms you, but you still can’t get enough. Everything annoying about him disappears when he’s touching you.

“Why? Why do you keep doing this?” you say, finally being able to pull away from him—only after you had jerked on his hair harsher.

His lips are swollen, red and glistening—he looks pretty like this. He really does. But those lips always end up saying something to piss you off. “Keep doing what? Letting everyone know how you really are? Not actually the good girl you pretend to be, huh.”

You don’t know if he’s goading you on purpose because he likes it rough, or if he’s just being an asshole in general. It doesn’t matter. If he’s going to act like a brat, he’ll get treated like one.

Your knuckles had turned white with how hard you were gripping his hair so it feels relieving when you finally let it go. He tries to lean in to chase after your lips again, but you have your hands on his chest to stop him.

The flash of panic in his eyes when you step back from him is hilarious, it really is. It tells you everything you need to know. He wants you. He really wants you. He doesn’t care if you hit him or ruin his life, he wants you.

If his next words are any indication. “Hey, hey what are you doing? Where are you going?”

You walk to sit on a step of the stairs. “Do you think I’m a slut? Is that why you thought you had the audacity? Surely because otherwise if you respected me you wouldn’t have spread those rumors about me.”

He huffs out a laugh, the biggest reaction you’ve gotten out of him so far. He also walks to get closer to you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t even come up with one single reason that would paint me in a better light. You really do see me as a fucking douchebag loser.” He’s clearly getting emotional with the way his voice gets higher pitched, the nonchalant front cracking, his lips slightly trembling.

“Because that’s what you are. Douchebag. Loser. You’re. A. Loser. Choi Beomgyu.”

You can see his fists clench at his sides, tight lipped. If you knew any better, you think he might’ve just started crying, but you’re not interested in tears. You angle your feet to point to the ground, “On your knees.”

He only hesitates for a second, he only stands there staring at you for a second, only a second before he crumbles and does as you say, getting on his knees in front of you, between your legs. “Closer.”

“But-"

“But what?” Your skirts already half way ridden up and you stare him down, keeping your eye contact intense.

“We’re in p-public. Anyone can see.”

You know hes blushing when you see the tips of his ears peek out, bright red. Aw, he’s nervous? Embarrassed? Shy?

“You’re never seeing me after this Choi. Make of it what you can or piss off.”

His eyes widen comically at that. “What? What does that mean? Are you leaving me?”

You can’t decipher or understand why exactly hes so surprised but you shake it off, you don’t want your good time to be spoiled. Not when your underwears’ already sticking to your pussy seeing him on his knees, on the ground, with his ripped baggy jeans, no doubt a pavement burn getting to him. “Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave?”

He shakes his head vehemently, hands on your knees spreading your legs. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t leave. Gonna make you feel good, promise.”

He’s already rambling like he’s dumbed out, like he’s about to be a goner. But he’s still hesitant in his actions and you groan, throwing your head back. “What the fuck Beomgyu?”

A pout rests on his lips, “I—…I don’t want anyone seeing you..”

You think he’s giving a fuck for your decency, you think its about you for once. But then another thought pops up in your head and your lips twitch. It’s not for you. It’s for him. He doesn’t want any possible pedestrian to see what only him so far has been able to see.

This isn’t worth it.

You make an attempt to get up before Beomgyu immediately has you sit back down, wasting no time to press his face between your legs, skirt over his head. His tongue pokes out to lick on over your panties, gradually wetting it and you sigh, the tenseness of your body evaporating. “Yeah, thats it. Be good for me pup.” He whines at that.

Beomgyu doesn’t tease any longer the moment your hands go to grab his hair because suddenly he bunches your panties to the side and you feel the contact of his hot tongue on your cunt, already lapping away like a dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dumb dumb—but shit he’s having you curl your toes at the speed he’s going, the way he moans against your pussy like hes somehow enjoying eating you out more than you are.

“You’re my toy, nothing else. But you just keep—you keep irritating me, you keep being a dick, you keep provoking me.” you breathe out, tightening your fistful of his hair in your hand, making his moans even louder, nuzzling closer in your pussy you think he might genuinely suffocate at this point. But knowing him, he’d probably like that. “God, you absolute loser.”

He whines something intelligible, wet eyes looking up at you with his brows pulling up—it makes you gasp as you bite down on your bottom lip. He’s so pretty it’s unfair. Why’s such a sinful person so pretty? God must really have the time of his life making this hell for you.

You take it upon yourself to lift yourself a bit, grinding on his face harder, trying to reach your high, obstructing your view of his face—even with the anxiety of doing this so out in the open resting at the pit of your stomach. He’s practically mewling in your pussy, and the sounds send vibrations, his nose bumping up your clit every now and then. He lets you use him, he just lets you.

When Beomgyu fully submits like this to you…you see stars, you come hard. “More…more”, he groans, licking up your arousal. It’s so dirty, it really is, but you can’t help but nod.

Having the skater eat you out till your legs were jelly at a skatepark late at night would surely guarantee your place in hell.

“You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this baby—don’t soil your pants yet, I know how you get. Probably getting off at the fact that we’re out l-like this…h-hah—dirty, dirty boy.”

He shakes his head, the glistening sweat of his forehead and the matted strands on his temple proof of how hard hes really going at it. “Not dirty. Just wan’ your attention..”

The second you tut at him for stopping he immedietely dives back in—you don’t know if it’s more him being afraid of a punishmet or because he himself doesn’t want to stop. Never mind that, because now hes wrapping his pretty lips around your clit and you’re fucking losing your mind with how quick your head clouds.

There are so many things circling your head right now. And this always happens whenever he starts talking during a hook up. Yes, it helps you get to an edge even faster but its for all the wrong reasons. He’d dirty talk for a bit before switching up, and suddenly all of his words are loving and cute and adorable and, and that’s bad. When you see him other than the image he’s curated for himself—that’s when you start feeling the unfamiliar butterflies fluttering.

You don’t like it. He’s not good for you.

“Stop thinking, only focus on me.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his tangled hair, disheveling it even more. Only him.

He makes you orgasm again, and when you catch your breath you gently push his head away, then harder when he can’t seem to stop kissing your inner thighs. He sighs, dropping it, but not without giving you one last puppy plea. You avoid his eyes, pulling your panties up and scoping around the area, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Did you really just let this punk eat you out on a staircase?

You stand up, dusting your ass, taking note of the redness of his knees and the large wet patch in between his crotch when Beomgyu follows, getting up from his knees, wiping his ridiculously wet lips. You tuck a strand behind your ear as you awkwardly stand, thinking over what you’re going to say now.

We’re over, bye.

I’ll go home now, don’t call me.

I hope you know how bad you messed up. Bye.

I’m blocking you on everything so don’t even think of contacting me.

“Don’t leave me.”

…That has you snap out of your reverie.

His voice is low, no doubt vulnerable. This is the worst. This is bad. Shit.

You clear your throat. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to I’d have to…my dad knows about you now because of the little stunt you pulled and he definitely doesn’t approve of you.” You mumble the last part, crossing your arms and keeping your distance. But that’s not of any use when he steps forward every time you take a step back.

“I’m—” He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated. And you don’t understand why, does he really operate life thinking there aren’t consequences to his actions? If he didn’t want to stop this so bad why’d he tell people about your relationship when you explicitly told him not to? “We can—we can do it in secret like we did this entire time. He doesn’t have to know.”

You sigh, also frankly frustrated. “Beomgyu! Why can’t you just-"

Suddenly you’re in his embrace, engulfing you so gently and yet the desperation in it couldn’t have been any more tighter. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll really do everything you want, I’ll be your toy, your pet, whatever shit you’re into—just don’t leave me."

You really shouldn’t give in. You really, really shouldn’t.

But then he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling with that slight whiny drawl in his tone, “I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Won’t misbehave anymore.”

Of course you give in. Again.

୨୧ note. honestly don’t know where this came from, i was just making up backstory as i was writing. literally only had one thought and one thought only, what if sub!bad boy x dom! good girl? and that was the small attempt made here lol, i love hearing any feedback or even a theory or two concerning the story’s world as i might explore these characters again 🙏

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[randxmthxughts]

Captain Save a Hoe - Tsu'tey x Avatar!Reader

i know, i know, the title...

summary: grumpy tsu’tey having to take care of a clumsy avatar!reader, and eventually warming up to her // tsu'tey being a captain-save-a-hoe for 1.7k words straight

wc: 1.7k

a/n: basically, i didn't know where to go with this, so i'm posting it like a blurb bc you guys told me to. there won't be a continuation to this, i just love grumpy tsu'tey, he's so hot

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Watch your feet,” Tsu’tey throws an angry glance at you, as you stumble through the thick bushes, trying to catch up to him.

Tsu’tey didn’t like dreamwalkers, hell, he almost killed one a few years back, if he hadn’t been stopped. But Tsu’tey especially didn’t like the ones that were awkward and weak in their disguised bodies, asking stupid questions, and constantly getting themselves into trouble. So of course, he was angry when Jake ordered him to keep an eye on you.

“Tsu’tey,” you breathe out, “Please wait for me.”

Despite the strength that your new body possesses, you struggle to keep up with Tsu’tey, feeling like a helpless child in comparison. He walks fast, treating this like another mission that he desperately wants to get over with. Tsu’tey doesn’t really care that Jake welcomed you into the clan for the help you offered. Or that the maps you've made could save the Omaticaya from future attacks by the sky people. What are a few more attacks on him? Tsu’tey relished in destroying the massive flying ships, he could go against them without your help any day. 

From the moment you embarked on your journey to the science facility to retrieve some of your equipment, it seemed like Tsu’tey’s luck had run out. As if for some reason Eywa had cursed him, making his journey with you longer and tiresome.

At first, he resented the idea of sharing his direhorse with you, since you hadn’t learned how to ride one yet. He also hated how you would cling to his middle, whenever he sped up, and restricted his movements. If only you had kept quiet, he could have tolerated you more, but instead, you occasionally tried to pry into his past.

“So, why don’t you have a mate?”

“She was killed by one of your demons.”

“Oh.”

Two hours in, Tsu’tey decided to stop by the river to give his horse a short break. As you crouched down by the water, examining the way it bubbled, Tsu’tey observed you in silence. He thought you were strange-looking, but not like Jake. To him, Jake was ugly. You had something intriguing about your appearance. Pretty, although Tsu’tey had a hard time getting used to it. But the compliment he wanted to grant you was immediately pushed to the back of his mind when he heard your frightened scream. You noticed an arachnoid crawling up your thigh and shrieked out of fear, violently shaking your leg to get it off. Spooked by your sudden outburst, the horse loudly neighed and fled through the air. Tsu’tey quickly jumped to his feet, but when he saw the reason for your shrieks, he felt his blood boil. In your defense, you had heard stories of poisonous arachnids of Pandora and you weren’t taking any chances.

So here you are, trudging along behind, with ears pressed flat against your skull. Tsu’tey had scolded you, blaming your weak spirit for the consequences. Since you were too far from the Hometree, and the horse was long gone, you had to continue the rest of the journey on foot. Which meant more hours spent with you. 

The silence that follows is almost unbearable, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves. What Tsu’tey did not expect was for you to be so slow. He almost gave up on the plan, contemplating going back to the village and fetching another horse. He even entertained the thought of taming a palulukan in case of an attack. In the worst case, he'd end up dead and wouldn’t be forced to care for you for another minute.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the day wears on, and the sun starts to set, casting a warm orange glow on the surroundings, you decide to voice your concern.

“Do you think we’ll make it to the facility by night?”

Tsu’tey throws a glance at you over his shoulder, letting out a bitter chuckle. You grimace at his reaction. 

“Got it,” you bite your lip.

He comes to a stop, and begins scanning the area around him. You wait for further clarification but he ignores you completely, then starts gathering twigs into a small cone.

“We will camp for the night,” he finally says, gesturing at you, “Gather some more, and stay here. I will be back soon.”

You discover that ‘soon’ meant different things to you and Tsu’tey. While you assumed he would be out hunting, the chilly air made you decide to start the fire and keep an eye on it, so it doesn’t die out. You hadn’t realized how tired you were, the warmth radiating from the small fire was making your eyelids droopy. You tried to resist sleep to prove to Tsu’tey that you were capable, but you couldn't hold out much longer, nestling on the ground.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey nudges you awake with a gentle touch, and you catch a whiff of a delicious aroma. As you open your eyes, you see him crouching in front of you, holding a piece of meat wrapped in leaves. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you eagerly take it from his hands and devour it. Tsu’tey can't help but chuckle, as he watches the satisfied grin spread across your face.

“Slow down,” he says softly, motioning for you to take a seat next to him, closer to the fire.

You watch him roast a smaller piece of meat and put it in his mouth. Instead of savoring the taste, Tsu’tey chews on it while continuing cutting up more pieces. You feel a little guilty that he prepares food for the both of you but doesn’t take a moment to enjoy it.

“Can I help?” you ask, moving closer to him.

He doesn’t answer, instead pointing to the knife on your belt. When you take it out, Tsu’tey pierces a piece of meat on the sharp tip, and motions for you to hold it over the fire. You follow his orders, watching the meat slowly cook as the aroma hits your nostrils and your stomach grumbles. 

This must be the first time he sees you do something right. Tsu’tey nods approvingly as he watches you carefully turn the meat over the fire, your knife skillful in your hands. A comfortable silence hangs over you, as you both start eating.

“We will continue our journey early in the morning,” he breaks the silence, “We must move quickly and return back as fast as we can. ‘Don’t want to camp out in the forest for another night, it can be dangerous.”

You only nod, agreeing with his plan. It was rare for him to keep you informed anyway, so you weren’t going to doubt Tsu’tey.

“You don’t trust that I can help, do you?”

“I am not sure,” he admits, “But if Toruk Makto trusts you, I can give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Your prejudice against me is ironic,” you scoff, “Jake was just like me once, before becoming Toruk Makto.”

“Not just like you,” Tsu’tey chuckles, shaking his head, “You are too weak.”

“I am smart,” you argue. 

Tsu’tey hums in agreement. There is some truth to his words, you have shown weakness. Adapting to a completely new environment, getting used to another culture, suddenly being forced into hours of physical activity that you weren’t committed to. At times, it would get too much but the support of the clan was all the validation you needed to stay.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll do anything to help your people,” you face him with new confidence, he hasn’t seen in you yet.

“You betray your own?” Tsu’tey frowns.

“I have no other choice. They are destroying everything because of greed,” you shake your head in disappointment. He nods.

“And your family? You left them too?”

“I don’t have one,” a bitter chuckle escapes from your lips, “They don’t claim me anymore. And I don’t claim them.”

“So they disowned you?”

“Pretty much,” you shrug, “They think that I am betraying them because I want to protect the life on Pandora.”

“It must take great strength to go against your family,” Tsu’tey compliments you.

You shy away from his softened gaze, warm feeling spreading in your chest from the kind words. It was tough to be one of the engineers who worked for RDA and had to betray them. But you couldn’t stand the idea of contributing to the destruction they were causing. It was why you first found Jake and warned him about the impending danger. And it was then when you first felt welcomed by the clan, cared for.

Now, you needed to sneak back into the facility and retrieve the equipment you left to track the future attacks. Tsu’tey was assigned to accompany you since it was dangerous to go alone. Even though most of the team at the facility shared similar opinions and wouldn't stop you, there was still a risk of encountering RDA guards. Getting caught would mean you could never return.

As the night wears on and the fire grows smaller and smaller, you and Tsu’tey continue to talk. You’re surprised by how he opens up to you, and how he doesn’t protest when you tell him about your past. Eventually, you feel your eyes growing heavy and your head nodding off to the side. Tsu’tey notices and stays up to keep an eye on you, making sure you’re safe while you sleep.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you wake up in the morning, you feel slightly restricted around your middle. You huff slightly, trying to move, as you realize that Tsu’tey is sleeping beside you, with his leg thrown over yours, and his arms wrapped around you. The closeness of his body sends a flush of heat to your cheeks, and you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Tsu’tey,” you nudge him, “Wake up.”

It doesn’t take much to rouse him. You guess that, as a warrior, he was trained to be sensitive to sounds around him. Tsu’tey grunts heavily before blinking a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light. When he realizes how close your face is to his, he almost recoils.

"For someone who seems to hate me, you're very protective," you tease him, patting his arms playfully.

“Mhm, couldn’t risk you rolling into the fire in your sleep,” he grumbles, freeing you from his grasp.

[sacharinee]

pairing: bf!peter x fem!reader

synopsis: you tend to peter’s needs with your friends down the hall**

w/c: 1k+

warnings: smut! hj + grinding, cursing, sneaky sex?? minors dni X

a/n: this is my first smut so pls bare w me. like two office references. this wasnt meant to be that smutty but here we are. i hope u like it - feedback always appreciated!

peter is really testing your patience.

he’s been restless the entire evening, shifting and fidgeting on the couch with you. he’s tried laying his head on your lap, tried leaning against the arm of the sofa with his heavy legs on top of you, then decided against everything and sat up straight beside you. 

the only thing keeping peter from his ultimate desires was the splatter film rolling on harry’s massive flat screen tv that entertained you and your friends. 

harry and mj are cuddled on the loveseat together, fully engrossed in the movie as ned and betty make comfortable on the makeshift bed scattered on the floor in front of you.

it was peter’s idea to have a movie night with his girlfriend and closest friends, but it certainly wasn’t his idea to have the most unbearable boner, right now, at the worst time possible. 

“this movie is so gross, who chose this bag of ass?” ned quips. 

“i think it was mj, babe” betty whispers.

“yup, it was me.” 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, this movie is amazing,” harry shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth as yet another character screams and dies an excruciating death on the screen.

ned rolls his eyes at him, “you two deserve each other.”

“hey, you know what? if you don’t like it, there’s the door,” the brunette responds, “i don’t know what’s the cause of all this attitude.” 

“it’s be-cause i hate you right now” ned fires back.

“oh, so our entire friendship is a lie, i see how it is.”

“you guys wanna hear another lie?” you chirp, both turning to your attention, “i think you’re both great. seriously. you guys are my best friends and not annoying at all.” 

harry crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief, “wow.”

“now shut up and watch the movie.”

your attempts are rendered futile, ned and harry continue to argue while mj watches the gory film with contentment and betty covers her eyes.

your attention turns to peter when he’s tugging on your sleeve. “yes, baby?” you peer down at him with sweet eyes, your pretty face makes his crotch ache. 

he can’t help but look away, “i need help.” he answers your confusion  by bringing your hand down to feel his hard length through his sweatpants.

“are you kidding me, peter?” you whisper. his forehead drops to your shoulder defeated, “i can’t help it, you’re hot when you’re mean, and it really hurts”

peter’s begging makes you feel for him, and you consider your options, “please?”

he’s giving you desperate eyes, and you decide you can’t focus on the movie with your friend’s bickering anyways, so you stand abruptly.

“i’m gonna use the bathroom.”

peter watched you make your way out of the living room, following suit, “m-me too.”

nobody hears or pays attention to the both of you, unaware of the risky events that are to take place down the hall. 

your boyfriend catches you slipping into the nearest bedroom, which he realizes is harry’s. he goes to protest on entering but is dismissed when your soft lips passionately capture his by surprise. peter stumbles to kick the door shut as you bring him closer by his shirt, walking him backward till his leg meets the bed. you’re on top of him, lips sliding over each other as you lay him down.

he feels your hot heat press against his crotch and over his throbbing cock. 

“y/n/n,” peter whines, “holy shit.” his head tips, and his eyes roll back when he feels you grind on his thick length. he grabs your hips, helping you move fervently against him. 

your lips attach to his neck and suck, pleased with your effect on him. peter is so easy to please. you’re glad you wore a skirt tonight, your arousal floods his senses and it’s all he can think about. he’s high on you, and only ever wants to be intoxicated by you. 

“s’it feel good, baby?” peter’s heavy breathing and rushed nod gives you your answer when he fails to give you a more coherent response.

you decide to tease, gently grabbing his hands and bringing them beside him. you push your weight further onto his hard on but move languidly; you enjoy torturing peter.

“god, baby, please.” he’s desperate for more. “what’s that, petey?” 

“i need,” his eyes are screwed tight, he loses his train of thought when you particularly grind on him roughly.

“use your words, pete. you can do it,” you encourage. 

“i- i need more, need to cum.” his raspy whine is what gets you. 

you lift yourself further down a bit, eyes fixated on peter as his eyes follow your hands. you slowly undress his bottoms to reveal his pulsating cock, it’s flushed a bright red, almost painful-like.

you don’t do much right away. you glaze your fingers over his member, tracing the prominent veins that run up and down the shaft.

“y/n,” he begs, “do something.”

your fingers slide to the red tip, circling it. peter shudders against your cool touch. his eyes make contact with yours and he leans up to give you a long tender kiss. your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him off.

peter breaks from your sweet lips, “oh fuck.” 

you don’t pull back from him. his face, centimeters from yours, looks so pretty, clearly entranced by your magic. you’re breathing into each other’s mouth, and his needy hands pull at your bare thighs. he’s desperate to cum after an evening full of uncomfortable fidgeting and hiding his hard-on from everyone. 

he’s lucky to have you, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve an angel sent from heaven, giving him a handjob, in someone else’s bedroom, while his friends are sitting down the hall, unbeknownst to your secret rendezvous. 

he’s panting against you, watching your face while you’re watching his cock, twitching under your hand, ready to spill. it’s almost like he’s asking for your approval. “baby? baby, im- im gonna-”

“yo, parker! y/n! did you get lost on your way to the bath-���

unfortunately, you and peter aren’t quick enough to conceal the mess you’ve made on his very bed when he swings the door open.

“are you fucking shitting me?!” and harry’s running down the hall gagging and clawing at his face.

“oops.” 

“ugh he’s so dramatic. you know how many times i’ve walked in on him-”

“god, my fucking eyes!”

“he’ll be fine.”

“you’re lying again!”

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! Absolutely love your writing :) Would you be willing to do a enemies to lovers but with hero x villain? Maybe with like a controlling villain and the hero secretly likes it but is defiant externally? Sorry idk if that made sense lol

Thank you in advance though if you're able to!

"You can't just keep crashing my dates."

The villain glanced over their shoulder, raising an eyebrow in a mimicry of an emotion that didn't quite reach their eyes. "No?"

"No." The hero stalked closer, stopping in front of the villain, in time for them to turn. "I'm not yours."

"No?"

"No!" The hero's heart gave a little skip, at the possibility that the villain would then look at them and then say (in a growl, or devastatingly matter-of-fact, or in a teasing purr) 'yes, you are' or 'you're most certainly mine'. The villain had done it before.

The villain tilted their head, offering the hero one of the two glasses of wine they had just poured.

The hero took it, anticipating.

The villain didn't say anything, simply watching them as they took a steady sip.

The hero's face burned but they refused, stubbornly, to look away.

The villain set their glass down on the counter behind them. No rush.

The hero imagined the villain grabbing them, kissing them, as they had done before too. Twirling them, glass flying and wine sloshing, and pressing them up against the nearest flat surface. They would change every no to yes and please and more.

They both knew the routine, the dance of it. It didn't need saying.

"Your dates look increasingly like me," the villain murmured. "Have you noticed?" Their hands stayed, agonisingly, at their sides, as they leaned lazy against the counter.

The hero blinked, not expecting the comment. They took a sip of the wine instead of replying, hoping that perhaps an equally steady silence might come across as cool and mysterious instead of flabbergasted.

The villain smiled. "Say please."

"W-what?"

"Say please if you want me to screw your pretty brains out until you can't think straight."

The hero spluttered. "That's not - I'm not - that's not why I'm here." They undoubtedly would say please, but it had never been so close to the start, so when there wasn't any excuse they could possibly give for the desperate needing of it.

"No?"

"No." The hero swallowed.

"So you don't go on your little dates just to wind me up?" The villain finally straightened, taking a step closer.

The hero stepped back, but didn't run, didn't want to. Mesmerised. Their mouth felt very dry. "No." Such a lie.

The villain's smile grew. "You don't secretly wish I'd kiss you, claim you, in front of all of them?"

"No." The hero jutted their chin up. "I'm not a thing to be claimed."

The villain advanced; the hero back-tracked.

"You don't," the villain continued, a honeyed murmur, "say no, because you love all the ways I can persuade you. Because then you can pretend you don't want this. Because you like watching me take control of you."

The hero's back hit the wall. Miraculously, the wine didn't spill, still clutched uselessly in one hand.

"No."

"Mm." The villain set their palms on either side of the hero's shoulders, and the hero felt the very air between them might start vibrating with the urge to close the gap. "Perhaps I'll never crash one of your dates again then."

The thought was unbearable. The villain was bluffing, right? They had to be bluffing.

The hero wet their lips. The villain's gaze dropped to follow the movement, then flicked back up to the hero's eyes.

"You're a bastard," the hero whispered, because it was true and it wasn't no.

"Why yes," the villain's eyes gleamed, "I am." They waited.

The hero's stomach squirmed. "Are you actually going to make me say it?"

"I thought I didn't control you. I thought you weren't mine."

The hero shivered.

"So how could I," the villain leaned in to the hero's ear, still not quite touching, "possibly make you do anything?"

"...please."

"What was that, love?"

"I hate you."

"Do you?" The villain's lips finally pressed against their skin, kissing down their neck.

"Yes. So much." The hero's head fell back, offering more of their throat. The wine glass drooped in their hand.

"Don't spill on my floor."

The wine glass righted with titan concentration. There was nowhere to put it down.

The villain kissed them; soft, so soft, a promise of so much more to come.

"Would you like me to stop?" the villain asked against their lips.

"...no."

"No?"

"No."

The villain hummed and kissed them again, a little harder. The wine glass wobbled treacherously in the hero's hand once more. The hero's other hand clutched the villain's shoulder.

"I think we're done with the stage in our relationship where you pretend to date other people," the villain said, when they pulled back, breathless. They caught the hero's chin, and their stare was, for a moment, serious.

The hero scrambled past the kiss-drunk haze, brow furrowing. "It's actually bothering you?"

"No," the villain said, in the same tone that the hero said no, meaning yes.

"Okay." The hero leaned in to kiss them, just once, reassuring.

Tension eased out of the villain's shoulders. The wicked playfulness returned, and they shoved the hero back against the wall again. The next kiss was a consuming, hungry thing, and the hero could only chase after more than they were given, gasping.

The villain nipped the hero's neck, before giving a chiding click of their tongue. It once again sent an anticipatory shiver of delight down the hero's spine.

"Oh, would you look at that," the villain said, with soft and bewitching menace. "You spilled my wine. However shall I make you pay me back for that?"

"Make me?" The hero bit their lip. "You think you can make me do anything? Please."

The villain grinned.

There were no more dates with other people after that.

[silentheiss]

It happens on a regular morning. Luo Binghe is happily refilling Shen Qingqiu’s cup with tea, his beautiful face open and serene. Shen Qingqiu looks at him and his heart suddenly starts to ache.

His husband, so strong and yet fo fragile when it comes to him. So enduring, yet willing to give up all the poise when cradled in Shen Qingqiu’s arms.

He never asks for things he knows Shen Qingqiu is unwilling to give. He never got his truth.

System!

Silence.

Something hot and angry boils inside his chest. He can’t bare to hide a single thing from his husband anymore, no matter what it entails. Luo Binghe deserves to know he was never hated. He deserves to know he’d be loved in his every manifestation.

System, I’m going to tell him.

Silence.

Welp, here goes nothing.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu starts.

“Yes, Shizun?” Luo Binghe looks up, pitch-black eye gleaming and eager. He is precious.

“This master needs to tell you something important.” Shen Qingqiu falls silent for a moment, waiting for System to blow up with warning signs. And yet — nothing.

“Is- is everything alright?” Luo Binghe looks around the room, as if checking for threat.

“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu says. “It’s just that this husband has something to say. I haven’t been completely honest with Binghe, and it’s time to fix that.”

Luo Binghe visibly tenses.

“Is that safe?” He asks, carefully.

Ah, his perceptive, intelligent husband. Truly, his IQ is higher than the mountain they’re currently on.

“I don’t know.” Shen Qingqiu admits. “But I can’t stay silent on this matter any longer.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head, dropping his cup on the table. The tea spills across the wood. Neither of them pay it any attention.

“If Shizun’s wellbeing might be compromised, then I don’t want to know it.”

“Don’t you?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “Don’t you want to know why I did what I did?”

A breath Luo Binghe takes is a sharp little thing. Shen Qingqiu’s heart breaks for him, for the thousands time.

Suddenly, the weight of secrets is unbearably heavy on his shoulders. It’s a miracle he can still sit straight — he feels like any second now he’d get crushed into the floor.

“I don’t need to know it.” Luo Binghe relents.

“I think you do.”

And then, Shen Qingqiu starts to talk. He talks and talks, eyes never leaving his husband’s face, because if System decides to kill him after all, his Binghe’s face is what he wants to see last.

Luo Binghe listens. He’s not even crying, which is surprising, but Shen Qingqiu pushes himself to finish the monologue before reacting in any way. When he’s done, Luo Binghe takes a slow breath. Then another.

Then, he speaks.

“I am sorry.” He says.

What! He is sorry?

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims, heart in his throat. “What can you be possibly sorry about?”

“I failed you.” Luo Binghe

“What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to be stronger to protect Shizun, but failed to recognize that Shizun was under attack the whole time.” Luo Binghe looks bitter and ashamed, eyes downcast. “Begging Shizun for punishment.”

Shen Qingqiu is suddenly angry all over again. Punishment! He’s begging for punishment! Insufferable boy!

“You want me to punish you? For being a child who failed to recognize something this master has been purposely hiding?” He demands.

Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s eternal heartache, nods meekly.

“A child.” He says, slow and pained. “A bright, eager boy. Sweet, sticky, kind. A child who lived through so much pain, who suffered since the moment he was born yet he kept fighting, and trying, and being good. A child that I failed to protect. He deserves punishment?”

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe whispers. “Please.”

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu mirrors his husband. “Please. Please, never suggest you deserve anything but love from me. It’s not true. It’s never been true.”

Shen Qingqiu is ready for the table to topple over and Luo Binghe to fall on his lap. He catches him with shaky hands.

Cold tea spills all over the floor. Despite heavy weight on his lap, Shen Qingqiu’s heart, for the first time in forever, is light.

[gothic-thoughts]

Shameless

Sukuna Ryomen x Black Fem Reader Smut

MDNI, Enemies2Acquaintences, King!Sukuna, Knight!Reader,

CW: rough sex, dirty talking, 💦ing, unprotected cream🥧, implied 😻 eating, on the bed, against the wall

TW: blackmail

Word Count: 1828 (give or take)

"For someone that claims to hate me you seem to always find your way back to my castle."

(Y/n) squints at him before groaning heavily and hanging her head in annoyance. She looked up at him, knowing that bargaining was futile, but unfortunately, she was the only one brave enough to speak to Sukuna and return outside unscathed. His only request was that she come alone.

"I do hate you. You're a tyrant and a brute with no sense of mortals or human life. I loathe you as a king and individual."

The King of Curses chuckles, "And it is entertaining to say the least."

"You're unbearable."

"The last human to say that I turned them into a puddle, you should be praising my generosity, but I digress. You are here because I overheard your little plan with those friends of yours."

(Y/n gasps softly, before composing herself.

"I came to make a deal with you."

He smirks evilly, "Really now?" He sits up straight on his throne, "Never pegged you as the type to negotiate. I'm intrigued by the thought of what you could possibly offer me in return for any of your friends' foolish lives."

"That's what I came to ask; what would you want in return?"

"Hmm..."

"Something sensible, Sukuna. I'm not killing or allowing you to kill anyone."

He leans back in his chair, feigning empathy in an exaggerated pout.

"Last I checked, you were desperate enough to come to me for help. Not vice versa."

"So what...?"

"Beggers can't be choosers, now can they? With that said, you don't seem to be in any position to be making demands."

"I don't have to do this. But your help is the best way we can win this war without losing more than half our people."

"Oh. If that's all, then no."

"Thank-- I- wait what? Did you just say no?"

"If you don't have to, little one, then I don't either. I should just send you on your way."

"What?"

He stood up from the large golden throne and walked down the stairs in the opposite direction. His boots reach the floor and as he prepares to walk down the halls of his castle, (Y/n) gives in.

"Alright! Fine, fine, just tell me what you want and we'll go from there!"

He chuckles, knowing he won. He turned on his heels and walked closer and closer to the mortal woman, stepping around and behind her, holding her against his strong, body. His breath ghosted the shell of her ear making her tense with fear.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"How dare you."

"Was it not you that said killing was off the table?" He whispered in her ear, "Other than that, dear I don't desire much else. I already have a kingdom, an army, immense power that your mortal brain will never comprehend... My only desire left is to bed you."

"Absolutely not."

"The way I see it, I am quite the saint for helping you. The only thing I ask in return is to break your puny mortal imagination with ecstasy."

"Pick. something. else. I am not fucking you."

"So vulgar. But in that case, I'll be happy to send you back. Let me know where you're ready."

She stutters in confusion before groaning heavily in exasperation.

"Fine, just know I would never do this if the world wasn't at stake."

"Sticks and stones."

"Let's just get it over with."

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

After making a meal of the sweetness between her thighs, I stand from my bed and lick my lips clean, savoring every last second as it fades from my taste buds. I stared down at (Y/n)'s trembling form as she panted lightly, knowing she was glaring right back, focusing on every flexing muscle on my upper body making me chuckle at her lack of subtlety.

"Staring is impolite but I won't stop you."

(Y/n)'s cheeks burn with embarrassment, "Fuck off, it's not like I've been devoured by a fucking god before."

"I can tell."

"Whatever, we're finished here."

"Finished?" I chuckle, "I haven't reached my climax yet, darling."

"What, but you said my pleasure!"

"I can't help myself, I have the desire to stretch you apart. Don't worry, I plan to keep my promise after the deal is sealed. But, of course, that implies that they've been sealed first..."

"Ugh. Fine, whatever just...."

She sighed heavily in exasperation before she propped herself on her elbows, boldly staring at me as she spread her beautiful legs apart to reveal her delicious dripping parts to me.

"Just hurry up and get it over with..."

I give a cocky smirk at her newfound eagerness as I rip my pants from my body, making my 10 inches of girth flop out. (Y/n)'s eyes widen, legs tensing in fear as I climb across the bed, large, heavy cock bouncing with every movement until my hips are settled between her deliciously plump thighs. I rub the head of my shaft along her sensitive, saliva-slick bud before I push it past the tight, clenching entrance. Her hole seemed to be already struggling to take it in, but the expression on her face told me she was in pleasure-filled pain.

"All I did was slide in the tip."

"It's just a little th-thick..."

"Hm, but I'm only 3 inches in. Since I 'like' you, I'll be nice this once."

"W-what? What do you--"

"Let's try for at least 6. And don't worry, I don't break the toys I intend to play with for longer than a night."

Before she can question me, anymore, I grab her right hip to hold her still while guiding a few more inches into her, watching as it stretches her hole wider and wider with each new inch. I finally stopped once my tip was pressed tight against her cervix and looked down at her blissed-out face, eyes scanning down to where she was stretched around me.

"S-Shit...."

"Don't tell me you're done already, Lady (Y/n). I've seen you get stabbed worse than this."

"Shut the hell up and just m-move already."

I smile evilly. My hips draw back before plunging back into her, making her throw her head back into my mattress and pull at my sheets. I raise my eyebrows at the sensitivity of her body making the situation that much more surreal. I laugh at the feeling of her pussy desperately clenching around me as her gasps adorably morph into moans. I wrap my hand around her throat, holding tightly to see how her moans sound when her air's been restricted.

"You make the most delicious sounds, (Y/n)."

"Sh-shut... Ngh, y-you don't get to call me that."

"Do you like it?"

"I- ngh... N-no~"

"Well that can't be the truth since you're moaning so very loudly. Tell me honestly; your friends are not here to judge." I lean down to whisper in her ear, "And trust that this night will stay to me, alone."

She wraps her ankles around my waist, inevitably pulling me a couple of inches deeper as she tightens around me and reaches her clmax with a yelp. I looked down at where we were connected and saw a patch of slick on my pelvis. Hmm, that was...mmm. After making sure I had a good grip on her body, I moved our activity across the room and pinned her against the wall, continuing to thrust with my heavy balls slapping and grinding against the plush of her ass with every stroke.

"F-fuck, hah~!" She panted.

"How the mighty have fallen, I recall you saying that you hated me."

"I-- f-fuck- do."

"Oh but darling, that implies you hate all of me. But look at you, against the wall in my room, gushing on my cock. You talk so big, that's what I like about you really."

"Sh-shut up."

"I'd admire your stubbornness more if it wasn't bordering on stupidity. But I do admire this body and brain of yours, not broken yet despite roughly taking 10 inches of a god like it's nothing."

With a raised eyebrow, I push the last inch of my cock inside of (Y/n)'s and make her drop her head to my shoulder. She uses all her willpower to lift her head and look me in the eyes while weakly attempting to push against my hips but she's so weak from pleasure it only makes my hips go faster to spite her efforts.

"Where are you going? You're off the ground, darling, you can't run from me."

"F-fuck~!"

"Hm, someone has seemed to go dumb. What happened to that attitude you had when you entered my castle? What happened to that?"

"Y-You fuckin' bastard..."

"You just needed me to fuck it out, didn't you? Don't worry, wench, I'll fuck you back to a state where you can watch your tongue a little better."

"Sukuna~!"

I continue drilling into her hole, watching as her enchanting eyes swell with ecstasy-filled tears before rolling back into her skull. I take her back to the bed, placing her ankles on my shoulders and thrusting deeper, even taking it upon myself to softly kiss her calves when she suddenly gushes again making her cunt even easier to slip into while she convulsed and screamed my name.

"There we go, ugh~ even better. that feels really good. It's been forever since I had such a willful, tight lover in my bed."

I start to lose my own mind at the feeling so I grab the headboard to find some semblance of control while she looks for some herself by tugging at the sheets, and babbling incoherently underneath me.

"Will you give me the honor of being the first mortal I happily give my seed to? I need to hear you say it cuz I'm getting ready to put my seed deep inside your womb so you can be mine.”

My cock starts to throb, dripping more and more precum inside her with every slow deep thrust. My lips ghost the shell of her ear while I pant and whine about how good she feels squeezing the life out of my cock. (Y/n)'s breathy whine makes me chuckle between more deep thrusts.

"You ready, mortal?"

"Uh-huh, p-please..."

"That's more like it~” I bury my face into her neck, kissing at the love bite I left earlier, "Ooh that's it."

My balls tense finally ready as hot, thick cum rushes inside her walls, filling up all the space. (Y/n) claws at my back as she trembles underneath at the sudden heat rushing through her insides.

"Oh yesss..." I moaned, "Take it, mmh, take it all just like that, little one."

"Sh-shit, too much...."

"Shh, I know you can.”

My seemingly endless stream of my divine cum continued filling her insides to the brim, making her lower stomach bulge out from the amount I grind into her pussy, sealing every last drop inside. (Y/n) head lolls on the pillows, her mind trying to produce more thoughts or insults as some cum started to seep out in trickles down her thighs. A few more spurts of cum were shot inside and I sighed, finally finished and panting.

"There we are. Now I feel more inclined to help you."

[ohthewh0rror]

WHEN I’M WITH YOU

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Professor Slughorn assigns Tom a potions partner— the only problem is that it’s a girl he’s never met before. Will Tom ignore his growing feelings for his new partner or will he give in and accept how he truly feels.

Full Request: HERE

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I introduce to you — Tom “she’s not like the other girls” Riddle. Also I’m sorry girl, I forgot to make her sort of weary of Tom and skipped straight to her just being nice. 😗

“When you think of me, is it fondly?”

Tom resisted the urge to rub his hands together to warm them. The frosty January air was unrelenting, seeping its way through the thick stone walls of Hogwarts making the lengthy descent into the school's dungeons more unpleasant than usual.

Eager to get out of the frigid hall, Tom mentally thanked Salazar when the door to the potions classroom came into view. Walking through the door, Tom saw a few of his fellow classmates already huddled along the back wall and talking amongst themselves. He gave them a polite nod as they wished him good morning, continuing to make his way to the opposite end, away from them.

From his spot in the back, Tom watched as the other students slowly trickled in. Girls linked arm in arm, whispering and giggling to one another; boys knocking into one another, speaking loudly about next week's Quidditch match. The sense of comradery left Tom internally recoiling in disgust as he tried to imagine himself acting in such a way.

Tiernan Lestrange came to stand next to him, a little closer than what Tom was comfortable with. Tom side-eyed the boy, but ultimately said nothing to him, choosing to instead focus on Professor Slughorn who called the class to attention as he used his wand to wave the classroom door closed.

Tom began to tune his professor out as he began his theatrics about the point they’d be working with today— befuddlement draught. A potion used to cause the drinker to become reckless, something Tom would take precautionary measures not to spill or ingest in any capacity.

“I will be pairing you off today—” was all Tom heard before he felt the trickles of irritation creep into his mind. Working in pairs was always something Tom hated, preferring to work alone instead of having to potentially be weighed down by some idiot.

“And Mr. Riddle,” Professor Slughorn called out, breaking Tom out of his thoughts, “you will be working with Ms. Y/L/N!”. Slughorn’s arm was stretched out, motioning towards a girl standing on the other side of the class, just out of view. Tom ran the last name over in his head a few times, trying to spark some form of recognition in his mind, but he came up blank.

Slughorn clapped his hands, telling them they have until the end of the hour to finish their potion. Tom mentally prepared himself for what kind of girl he may be working with as he made his way through the dissipating crowd of students to find his partner.

Ah, there she was.

She hadn’t noticed him just yet, so he took those few seconds to give her a once over. It would make sense he didn’t recognize her, she was not in his house. They locked eyes as she finally noticed him just a few feet in front of her, and she swiftly closed the distance between the two.

“I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Y/N” she said, introducing herself. Her voice, though a bit quiet, was sweet. It wasn’t the same condescending tone Tom was used to receiving from the girls that hung around Lestrange and Avery, and for that he was glad. Giving her a polite smile, Tom guided the both of them to an empty cauldron, “I don’t believe we have, my name is Tom.”

Y/N was not unbearable to work with, much to Tom’s relief. The only hiccup didn’t occur until thirty minutes into making the draught when she unknowingly overstepped a boundary of his. Tom had brought his hand up to drop the scurvy grass into the cauldron when she grabbed him; his eyes immediately snapped to her, surprised that she had the audacity to grab him.

“Wait,” she said, a hint of panic in her tone, “you have to add the sneezewort first.” Their hands stayed locked together as Tom took a peek at her potions book laying out in front of them. As his eyes glided over the instructions he saw she was right, causing him to now feel a little embarrassed at the mistake he almost made.

“You’re right,” Tom cringed on the inside, “it is sneezewort first.” Y/N let go of his hand as he lowered it to switch out the ingredient he was holding. Her grabbing him should have left him disgusted and discreetly wiping his hand against his robes to rid himself of the feeling of her touch But, it wasn’t disgust he felt from her touch; just annoyance and a lingering tingling feeling in his hand that he did not want to think about.

Tom and Y/N had just finished their potions when Slughorn had stopped in front of them. “A perfect brew! Though I expect nothing less from either of you!” Slughorn exclaimed in his usual jovial tone. “Thank you, sir,” Tom and Y/N replied at the same time. Tom and Y/N looked at one another, and he watched, unable to look away, as a genuine smile tugged at her lips.

Tom momentarily forgot they had been talking to Slughorn until the old fool spoke again, telling them they were welcome to spend the last few minutes of class how they wished. The two chose not to speak, something Tom was grateful for, as they put away their belongings. It wasn’t until the bell chimed telling them it was time for lunch that they spoke again.

“I’ll see you next Thursday, yeah?” Y/N looked at him with, what he could only describe as a hopeful look in her eyes. Tom nodded, “of course.” Tom watched as she left, her figure sauntering out of the potions door. He was once again reminded of where he was when he heard Avery’s grating voice ask him a question.

Though Tom did not have another class with her till next Thursday, he couldn’t seem to stop seeing her in some form. He saw her in the halls, a weird feeling gathering in his chest when she would give him a friendly wave as they passed each other by. He saw her in the Great Hall, his skin growing warm as his eyes accidentally caught hers from where they both sat at their respective tables.

Their next potions class together, Tom planned to work alone, but Y/N fell into step beside him, a playful smile dancing on her lips as she asked, “do you mind if I join you?”. Tom, who should have found a polite way to tell her to ‘fuck off’, couldn’t bring himself to turn her away.

“Not at all,” Tom wanted to hex himself. Why would he say that? Tom worked alone, he didn’t want nor need a partner, yet he did not hesitate to let her join him. It was beginning to drive him mad, how out of character he was being towards a girl he’s known for no longer than a week. Tom needed answers for why he was acting this way, for why he was being affected in such a way.

But answers wouldn’t come. For the next month Tom was tormented every time they worked together: sweaty palms, shortness of breath, conflicting thoughts. He was beginning to think she was attempting to bewitch him in some way, casting discrete spells on him. So, he began to pay closer attention to her, trying to catch her in the act, paying attention to her every move.

He noticed everything. From the way she hid behind her hands when she laughed all the way to how she liked her fruit cut a certain way. Every mannerism he noticed, he mentally jotted down— in case it was needed for future blackmail of course (he was sure he could spin the fruit thing into a vicious rumor of some kind).

Everything came to a head on February 26th. It was a chilly Friday night and the Slug Club was supposed to meet for a lavish dinner in Slughorn's office with its usual attendants.

Except, when Tom walked in it was anything but the usual attendants or atmosphere. Instead Tom walked into an office decorated to look far more lavish than usual with trays of food and drink floating about for guests to pick off of. As Tom walked further in, he saw more than just the typical group of boys that met once a month. He saw other students, as well as other adults, whom Tom assumed were acquaintances of Slughorn.

Tom thought of skipping this meeting, as gatherings such as this were out of his comfort zone, until something caught his eye. ‘Sweet Salazar,’ Tom thought to himself, exasperated. He couldn’t believe what he was looking at— or should he say, who he was looking at. It was Y/N, dressed in a flattering knee length, emerald dress. Tom thought of approaching her, but found himself rooted in place.

After a second, he finally found himself moving towards her, but before he could make it to her side, another boy approached her first. Tom slowed his steps as he felt a surge of white hot anger consume him at the sight of this Neanderthal touching her, as if he was worthy of such a thing. He was a plain looking fellow; average height, basic attire, and dull features.

‘As if she would go for the likes of him,’ it was that thought that made alarm bells go off in his head. Why would he think that? If not that boy, then who would she go for? Tom’s mind raced as he thought the question over. He fought with himself as he kept coming back to the same conclusion: Y/N deserved himself.

It was a conclusion he didn’t understand, but it was the only one he kept coming back to; the only one that made sense. Needing time to process what he realized, he slinked off, out of Y/N’s eyesight.

Tom was good at sneaking around and avoiding others, it was something he’d done since before his days at Hogwarts, when he was just a young child at Wool’s Orphanage. So it wasn’t hard to avoid Y/N for the remainder of the gathering, but in trying to avoid her, he ran into Slughorn.

“Tom! My boy! How are you enjoying the party?” Slughorn asked, clapping a heavy hand on his shoulder. Tom, though he wanted to be left alone, faked a polite smile, “I’m enjoying myself well enough, sir, you’ve truly outdone yourself this time.” He hoped a little flattery would help spend this conversation up, as he wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right now. “Good, good..” Slughorn trailed off, Tom hoped that would be the end of it, but the Professor seemed to have one more thing to add.

“I’ve noticed you hanging around Ms. Y/L/N more, and I must say, I like the idea of you two growing closer,” Slughorn confessed. Tom, though feeling embarrassed that his teacher noticed and decided to comment on an aspect of his personal life, played the bashful card. He forced himself to smile and glance at his feet, “I see.”

Slughorn gave Tom a pat on the back, wishing him luck, and departed to go mingle with more guests. Tom managed to avoid both Slughorn and Y/N for the rest of the night as he stayed in the furthest section of the party, mingling with the likes of Mulciber and Nott.

Finally having had enough, Tom decided to slip out of the room and into the empty hallway, intent on going back to his dorm and getting some rest. He hadn’t made it far from the party when he heard Y/N call for him from behind.

“Tom!” Y/N’s voice echoed throughout the hall. Tom stopped and turned to her, unsure of what she could need from him. Once she finally caught up to him, she stopped before him, slightly winded. Tom gave her a moment to collect herself, but a bashful look crossed her face as she seemed to be second guessing herself.

“Yes, Y/N?” Tom gently goaded, trying to get her to spit it out. It was another second before she finally spoke, “will you walk me back to my common room?”. It was a question that took him off guard, as that was not in the realm of what he guessed she could want. The fact that she wanted him to walk her back to her common room made his heart thump wildly against his chest. Giving her a slight nod, he held his arm out to her.

Feeling her hand delicately grasp his arm made him feel sick, having never done anything like this before. “Did you enjoy yourself? I assume this was the first time you’ve been invited?” Tom asked, trying to fill the silence. Well, that’s what he told himself at least. Truthfully, he just wanted to hear her voice; he could listen to her speak all day if she let him.

“Yes, this is my first time going,” she confirmed, “it was alright, a bit overwhelming if I’m being honest.” Tom nodded, knowing what she meant, “I felt the same.”

The two of them lapse into silence, only the sounds of their shoes could be heard as Tom escorted her back to her common room. Tom made sure to take smaller steps to be sure he didn’t accidentally drag her across the castle, but also, to prolong their walk.

Still, the walk was over far too soon as they came to a stop in front of her common room entrance. She let go of his arm, and the two of them faced each other. “Thank you for walking me back, Tom,” Y/N said. Tom gave her a genuine smile, “it was nothing.”

Y/N looked from Tom, to the entrance, and back to him again. She seemed as if she wanted to say something, and Tom, not wanting to be rude (for once) patiently waited for her to gather her courage to say what was on her mind. “I plan to go to Hogsmeade next weekend, would you mind accompanying me?” She asked.

The look on Tom’s face must have been awfully amusing as Y/N’s laughter reverberated throughout the hall. The sound of her laughter making his chest ache with how sweet it sounded. It made Tom wish he could bottle it up and keep it on a shelf; save it for moments when he needed to be reminded that something other than pain and cruelty existed in this world.

“So..” Y/N trailed off, laughter still evident in her tone, “is that a yes?”.

Finding his voice Tom agreed, “that’s a yes.”

Tom and Y/N bid each other goodnight, parting ways as she stepped through the entrance to her common room. As the entrance closed behind her Tom turned to make his way back to the dungeon, a feeling of anticipation filling him as thought’s of Y/N and their future date overrun his mind.

Taglist: @r-a-c-h-e-l

[ltash]

Unbearable

SimonGhostRileyxFemaleReader 'Oneshot' Word Count 6k approx

Warning: Hot sex, Dubcon, Intercourse.

From fighting to fucking. You knew what happens when you tease your Lieutenant.

"The mission was a fuck up because of you Lieutenant". You entered the safehouse with him following after. Your uniform messy, hair dishelved. "I nearly died because of you."

He was your superior but you were always fighting with eachother.

Your words cut through the air like a knife, sharp and edged with disappointment. Ghost's composure remains outwardly calm, the only visible reaction the slight tightening of his jaw beneath the skull balaclava.

"The mission went sideways," he responds, his tone low and measured, betraying just a hint of defensiveness. "I can't control every variable, princess."

"Shut up! I am not your princess LT. I am a sergeant." You spat.

Ghost's eyes narrow, the tension in the room crackling like a livewire. He takes a step closer to you, his towering form looming above you.

"You're right," he retorts, his voice a low growl. "You're not a princess. You're a sergeant who's acting like a damn child, throwing a tantrum because things didn't go your way. Grow up."

"You need to grow up Ghost." You shot back.

"Oh, I need to grow up?," he snaps, his patience wearing thin. "You're the one who can't even follow a simple order without arguing. Who's the child here? You're damn insubordinate and reckless."

His eyes raked over your form, taking in your petite stature and the way your uniform clung to your curves. He hated how goddamn perfect you were. His eyes darkened with a mixture of irritation and desire.

"LT! You nearly got me killed and you are still denying. The bomb just exploded near me. If it wasn't for my decision making I wouldn't be here alive." You crossed your arms on your chest.

The reminder of your near-death experience sparks a pang of guilt in Ghost's heart, but he quickly pushes it aside, masking it with a scoff.

"You put yourself in that situation," he snaps. "I gave you orders for a reason. But you never listen; you always have to do things your damn way."

"Oh God damn you are impossible LT. I just can't anymore with you." You said as you sat on the couch."

"Yeah, the feeling's mutual," he grumbled, leaning against the wall and watching you. Despite his irritation, his eyes were drawn to the way your hips curved when you sat down.

"Can't believe I am doing this with you." I gritted my teeth in frustration.

Ghost's gaze locked onto you again, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Doing what, exactly?" His voice a deep, velvety low rumble.

"Nothing." Just go to sleep.

"Oh, now you want me to go to sleep, princess?" He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and stalking towards you. "You make it sound like I'm the one who's causing all the trouble around here."

"You are my superior and I am giving you the benfit of doubt. I spare you. Now please spare me." I clasped my hands together.

Ghost's smirk widened, the sight of you pleading with him was doing things to him in ways he never imagined.

"Oh, so you're sparing me now? How generous." He drawled, taking another step towards you, closing the distance between you. "And what exactly am I supposed to spare you from, sergeant?"

You took off your boots throwing them away across the room. You clutched the cushion. "I am gonna sleep peacefully now." You said.

Ghost's eyes widened as you kicked off your boots, revealing your sock-clad feet. the sight sent a jolt of heat straight to his core.

He leaned against the armchair, his gaze fixed on you as you clutched the cushion. "Sleep peacefully, huh?" he mused, tilting his head to the side, his eyes raking over your form, lingering on your curves. "You gonna dream about me, princess?"

"My feet smells like a mouse died here. It stinks. This mission sucks and you too." You said as you stood up and took off your socks.

Ghost watched as you took off your socks, his eyes following the movement of your fingers, a mix of annoyance and desire pooling within him.

"Oh, now it's my fault that your feet stink? " he retorted, trying to keep his focus on your face and not the curves of your body. "You're the one who's being a pain in the ass, not me."

Urgh! You gritted your teeth as you made your way to the washroom. You started washing your socks, your hands, your feet and your face which had a layer of dirt. You opened your long hairs. Your took off your uniform's jacket revealing only your tshirt. You came out of the bathroom.

Ghost's jaw clenched the moment you came out of the bathroom. He could see the curves of you body in just a t-shirt and cargo pants. His eyes followed your every move, devouring the sight of you in his mind. He let out a low breath, silently cursing himself for how Goddamn gorgeous you looked right now.

"What?" You settled on the couch. Taking out your cellphone.

His eyes roamed over you, taking in the way your body looked on the couch, so inviting. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden.

"What are you doing?" He managed to ask, trying to keep his voice casual, but failing miserably.

"Scrolling facebook." You casually replied.

He watched as you scrolled through Facebook on your phone as if nothing was wrong, as if just moments ago you weren't arguing with him. The casualness of your response was driving him insane.

"You're just going to sit there and scroll through Facebook, like nothing happened?" He grumbled, his eyes still glued to your body.

"There is no use of bickering right now. I have just survived an ordeal and I need some rest." You said.

Ghost couldn't argue with that. As much as he wanted to continue the back and forth, he knew you were right. You had almost died just hours ago.

"You're right," he relented, running a hand through his face, his eyes still fixed on you. "You need to rest. We'll talk about this later."

"God I can't sleep in these messy clothes. Do you have a tshirt I can borrow?" You asked.

Ghost's breath caught in his throat as you asked for a tshirt. The thought of you wearing his shirt sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Uh, yeah. I have a clean t-shirt," he replied, his eyes fixed on you, "But it's gonna be big on you, you know that, right?"

"No problem LT. I wear oversized clothes quite a lot." I said.

Ghost nodded, his mind wandering to the thought of you in his oversized tshirt. The visual alone was driving him insane.

"Alright," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Stay here, I'll get it for you."

He went to his duffel bag and rummaged through it, finding a clean white t-shirt. He returned and handed it to you, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment before drawing back.

"Don't you have any other colour except white?" You rolled your eyes.

Ghost couldn't help but let out a huff of amusement. Even when asking for a tshirt, you were still being picky. "No, I don't have anything in any other color," he replied, a hint of mockery in his voice. "You gonna refuse to wear it just because it's white?"

"I guess I'll have to manage then. Thanks." I said as I stomped my way to the bathroom.

Ghost stood there, watching you storm off to the bathroom, his eyes fixated on your backside. He couldn't help but enjoy how cute you looked when you were annoyed.

He settled on the armchair, leaning back, his mind filled with thoughts of you wearing just a white t-shirt and nothing.

He cleared his throat, his eyes following you until you disappeared into the bathroom.

As you stepped into the warm shower, the water cascaded down your body, the heat and steam surrounding you. With the door closed, you were momentarily out of Ghost's sight, but not out of his mind.

He sat back in his chair, trying to distract himself from the image of you in his mind, wet and soapy, your bruises on display.

In the shower, your body was soothingly caressed by the warm water and the suds of Ghost's body wash. The scent of it, masculine and a little earthy, filled the air. Each gentle touch of your hands onto your soft curves sent a shiver through you, the aching parts of your body slowly relaxing under the pressure.

As you emerged from the shower, your long hair damp, Ghost's eyes immediately landed on you.

His breath hitched in his throat as you stepped out of the bathroom, the sight of you in his white t-shirt sending his thoughts into a frenzy. The shirt was big on you, hanging low on your shoulders, barely covering the curves of your hips.

He struggled to keep his gaze from roaming over your body, his eyes drawn to the damp strands of hair clinging to your neck, the hint of wetness on your skin.

"Thanks for the shirt." You whispered.

Ghost's eyes remained glued to your figure, his brain struggling to form words. You looked so damn beautiful in his shirt, his mind filled with thoughts of pulling you onto his lap and devouring you whole.

He cleared his throat, "No problem...princess," he managed to rasp out.

He looked away, trying to keep his gaze from roaming over your legs, the sight of you in his shirt driving him almost crazy.

He could tell you were eyeing him, your gaze roaming over his form. The way your eyes took in his cargo pants, his tattooed arm, his flexed muscles, and the tautness of his shirt against his chest.

He was used to people looking at him, sizing him up, but coming from you, it felt different. It was almost as if your gaze was caressing him, sending a strange, unfamiliar heat through his body.

Ghost's mind was filled with conflicting thoughts as your gaze roamed over him. It felt strangely intimate, as if you were undressing him with just a look.

He could feel his heart rate increasing, his breathing becoming shallow under your gaze. It was as if your eyes were setting his body on fire, awakening something deep within him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Your brief, almost involuntary, bite on your lip didn't go unnoticed by Ghost. His eyes darkened slightly, his sharp gaze locking on to your mouth, watching as your teeth grazed over your bottom lip.

He shifted in his chair, his legs spreading wider in a display of masculine dominance, he found himself focusing on the way your eyes followed his every move. He noted the way you bit your lip again, the action stirring something primal in him.

Ghost's eyes zeroed in on your thighs as you settled on the couch, the sight of them so close yet so unattainable driving him insane. The shirt rode up, revealing more of your skin to his gaze, making him want to reach out and touch you, to feel the softness of your thighs under his fingers.

He was used to people being intimidated by his size, his appearance, but there was something about you, about the way you looked at him, that made him want to show you more, to make you see why they call him 'Ghost'.

He could see it in your eyes, the attraction, the fire that was beginning to burn within you. The heat in your gaze was unmistakable, the way your eyes never strayed from him.

His body reacted almost involuntarily to your gaze, his own desire and lust awakening in response to your intense attention. A shiver ran through him, as if your eyes were physically touching him, fueling the flames of his own desire, making them grow.

Your unwavering determination, your strong, unwavering gaze, didn't go unnoticed by Ghost. He could see the fire in your eyes, the determination to make him yours.

His mind was fighting against it, telling him this was a bad idea, that he shouldn't give in to this desire, but his body and his own intense attraction couldn't help but react. He felt pulled towards you, a magnet to your intense gaze.

Ghost was torn between his own desire and his need to keep his professional boundaries intact. He knew this wasn't a good idea, that he should shut it down. But being the focus of your intense desire was making it incredibly difficult.

He sat there, his body rigid, his own gaze fixed on you, trying to maintain a mask of composure. But the fire in your eyes was too strong, too intoxicating, and he could feel himself slowly giving in to the pull, drawn to the fire like a moth to a flame.

He was practically losing his mind. The way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way your body was practically begging for him, it was driving him crazy.

"F-ck," he muttered, his voice gruff and full of need. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?"

He watched as you sat there, your body practically begging for his touch. His hands clenched into fists, the need to grab you and draw you close warring with his own self-control.

He let out a low growl, his voice rough and gravelly, "You've no idea what you're doing to me, princess...driving me insane with that look in your eyes, the way you're sitting there... it's taking every ounce of my restraint not to take you right here, right now."

His eyes traced up the arch of your neck as you rested your head on the couch, the delicate skin practically begging to be marked. The sight of your pulse, the reminder of the life flowing within you, sent a shiver through him.

He wanted to mark that neck, to leave his own unique stamp on your skin.

You moved on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest, Ghost's gaze trailed down to where the shirt had ridden up, revealing your legs, all the way up to the edge of your panties.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as he took in the sight of you. Your legs, so soft and exposed, the edge of your panties peeking from the bottom of his shirt, it was all he could do not to pounce on you that very moment.

Watching you bite your thumb, your unwavering gaze on him, was driving him insane. His eyes grew even darker, his desire burning hotter and hotter.

He could see the way your teeth gently grazed over your thumb, the innocence and sensuality mixed in the action. It was almost as if you were taunting him, testing his restraint, seeing how long he could hold out.

Your action, the way you slowly inserted your finger into your mouth, licked it, and then pulled it out slowly, was the final straw for him.

He abruptly stood up, his chair scraping back as his body moved on instinct, drawn to you like a magnet. In a few long strides, he was standing in front of you, his eyes dark and intense, his body taut with need.

He stood towering over you, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His breathing was ragged, his eyes locked on your parted lips. He wanted to taste those gasps, to swallow them down and make them his.

He watched as you rested your head back on the couch, your unwavering gaze still locked on his. It was almost torturous, the way you were just out of reach, yet so close at the same time.

He leaned closer, his body almost touching yours, yet still not quite closing the gap completely. He could feel the tension between you growing, the air thick with anticipation and need.

Ghost's eyes darkened, his voice a low, gravelly growl. "Stop looking at me like that, princess."

As you pulled your hair aside, the action revealing the smooth, unmarked skin of your neck, his eyes immediately went to the exposed flesh. The sight of the shirt clinging to your breasts, emphasizing your curves, made his mouth go dry.

The sight of you biting your thumb and caressing your lips was driving him insane. Each movement was seductive, seemingly innocent, yet incredibly alluring.

Your slow stand, the way you rose up on your tip toes, bringing your face so painfully close to his own, was like a physical blow to Ghost. Your breaths mingling with his sent a shiver through his body.

His own breath hitched in his throat as you slowly folded his mask up, revealing his lips, his mouth, to you. The feeling of your lips brushing against his was electric, a bolt of pure desire shooting through him.

The moment your lips brushed against his, a shudder reverberated deep within his chest. The primal need for more consumed him, overriding his every thought.

With an abrupt motion he pressed you onto the nearest wall, pinning you there. The solid surface of the wall felt cool against your back, contrasting the feverish heat that was emanating from him.

He pinned you there, his body trapping you between him and the wall, his breaths coming out in ragged, hungry gasps. "You tease too much."

It was like a dam breaking. As soon as your lips met, the hunger and desire that had been building in Ghost for so long, burst through. His mouth fused with yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, full of raw need.

With each gasp that escaped your lips, each whimper that vibrated in your throat, Ghost could feel the last of his control slipping away.

He claimed your mouth in a scorching kiss, a hungry, demanding kiss that devoured and claimed, a kiss that spoke of a desire that had been brewing for far too long.

His hands, possessive and hungry, roamed your body, mapping every curve, every inch of flesh, his touch burning a hot trail on your skin. He could feel you straining against him, your body desperate to get even closer.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you up like you weighed nothing at all, pulling your shirt over your head, his hands greedy as they roamed your now exposed skin.

Your breath was knocked out of you as your back hit the wall. Ghost's body pressed against you, his mouth still devouring yours, his tongue exploring and claiming every inch of your mouth.

One of his hands slid down your waist to your thighs, hiking up your legs around his waist, holding you pinned against the wall, completely under his control.

The sexy cry that escaped your lips and into his mouth sent a shock straight to Ghost's groin. His body shuddered with a mixture of need and control, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he pressed himself even closer to you.

He pulled back, his mouth moving down to your neck, his lips and tongue exploring, tasting, marking the soft flesh.

The sound of your whimper, the way you pulled at his shirt, sent a wave of desire through Ghost. The need to feel your hands on him, skin to skin, was overwhelming.

He pulled back just enough to tear his shirt off, discarding it somewhere behind him. Now bare-chested, he pressed himself back against you, his body flush against yours, the heat of his skin seeping into you.

He continued his assault on your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, marking each spot as his. His lips moved down to your chest, planting wet kisses on your skin, each one sending another wave of desire through you.

He could feel you writhing against him, the way your body responded to his touch, making his body hot and heavy, craving more.

He went down kissing your chest, his tongue making hot circles around your small buds of nipples before he nipped and sucked them taking them in his mouth.

His other hand playing with the soft mound of your other breast. Your back arched, pleasure coursing through your veins as you craved for more. He continued his wet trails of kisses between your breasts and then all the way down your belly button.

You bit your finger in pleasure as his tongue made contact on the sensitive skin below your belly button.

Your panties came down in one smooth pull as he trailed kisses on your sensitive spot. He nips and bites at the skin of your hip.

The feeling of your body quivering against him, the sound of your gasps and moans filling the air, had Ghost's eyes darkening with desire. He took his time, feasting on your skin, as his tongue and mouth explored the sensitive spots on your hips, driving you wild.

He could feel you writhing, begging, body arching to get closer to him. He relished the sounds you made, the way you responded to his every touch. He nipped and bit at your hip, marking you, claiming you.

"You're so responsive," Ghost whispered huskily, his breath hot against your ear as he nipped and bit at your neck.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, your body arching towards his touch. His hand, strong and determined, made its way between your thighs, teasing and exploring. He lifted your leg up. His fingers stretching your folds making their way inside.

Simon! Your body arched towards him.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as your body arched towards him. The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacted to him, was driving him wild.

He pressed himself closer to you, his chest against yours, his breath hot and heavy on your skin. "I can't get enough of you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

His fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration inside you, driving you mad with need. He loved seeing you like this, completely undone, completely at his mercy.

Simon's fingers found the sweet spot inside you, and as he curled them up, a wave of pleasure washed over you, making your body arch against him. He held your chin in his other hand, his grip firm and steady, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I love seeing you like this," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So desperate, so needy for me."

Your face was wet from the tears of pleasure, but he couldn't get enough of the way you looked, completely undone and at his mercy.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, his eyes never leaving you. The sight of you, trembling with desire, waiting for him, was more than he could bear.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed his cock at your entrance, pushing it inside you. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, bringing him deeper.

His forehead pressed against yours as he drove his cock inside you.

Simon! You cried out his name. Your nails digging in his back. Fuck! You moaned.

"Don't hold back," he growled as his name spilled out from your lips, your nails digging into his back. "Let me hear you."

He continued to drive into you, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. You were lost in him, completely consumed by him.

"Oh babe," he rasped as your hands came up to cup his face, your eyes meeting his. The look in your eyes, the way you looked at him, was like fuel to the fire burning inside him.

He continued to drive his cock into you, his movements growing faster and more intense, his eyes locked on yours. "Don't look away," he commanded. "I want to watch you."

He picked you up with ease, carrying you to the bed that dominated the small bedroom. Your legs wrapped around him, taking him fully, and he pinned you against the mattress.

With a swift motion, his body was over yours, covering you, surrounding you.

"This is where you belong," he growled. "Under me, under my control."

"Oh Fuck me babe!" You moaned. "I am such a slut for you."

"Such a dirty little mouth and a pretty little cunt you have." He growled.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let go, give yourself over to me. I've got you."

He continued to drive his cock into you, each movement more powerful than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body was taut and arching, trying to keep up with the pleasure he was bringing you.

You clutched the sheets and bit the pillow as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you. He was relentless, dominant, and he was taking you to the very edge.

He felt your body tense and arch beneath him, the wave of pleasure crashing over you like a tsunami. Your whimpers and moans turned into sobs as you succumbed to the intensity of your release.

He held your face in his large hands, his eyes locking with yours. He watched as the pleasure washed over you, his own desire growing stronger with each gasp and whimper that escaped your lips.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice rough and guttural. "Let it all out."

"Simon!" You sobbed his name breathlessly.

"Oh, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he took in the sight of you beneath him, breathless and sobbing.

His grip on your face tightened slightly, his eyes burning with need and desire. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "So lost in me. So completely mine."

He saw the tears fall from your eyes, the way your mascara streaked down your face, your lipstick smeared. You looked broken, completely undone, and it only served to drive his own desire even higher.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I did this to you, and I ain't finished yet."

"Oh my God." You whined.

His lips curved into a smug smile as your words escaped in a whine, a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion.

"Oh my god, is right," he chuckled, his voice low and sultry. "You've got no idea what I've got planned for you."

"Fuck!" You moaned.

He chuckled at your response, his voice deep and possessive. "That's right," he purred. "Let me hear you."

He continued to move inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing out every moan and plea from your lips. "Say my name again," he commanded.

"Simon! Babe." You bit your lip.

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned, the sound of his name on your lips driving him wild. "Say it again."

He continued to move inside you, his pace picking up slightly, his body pressed against yours. "Louder," he demanded. "I want you to scream my name."

Si- Simon! You screamed breathlessly.

"That's it," he praised, his voice a low growl.

He could feel you clinging to him, your body shuddering and writhing beneath him as he drove into you. The sound of your scream was like music to his ears, driving his desire higher and higher.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his voice thick with need. "I want to hear you say it again."

Simon! You whispered.

"Oh, I love the sound of my name on your lips," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "But I need to hear you speak louder."

He continued to move inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. Each thrust was powerful, determined to make you scream his name louder.

"Say it again," he commanded, "louder this time."

"Simon! My love." You pleaded.

His heart skipped a beat at the words that came from your lips, a mixture of possession and tenderness overwhelming him.

He could feel your pleading, your need, your desire for him. It only fueled his own need, his own desire.

"Oh, you're killing me," he groaned, his voice rough and guttural. "Say it again, darling. Call me your love again."

"Simon! I love you so much." You whined.

At the sound of your voice, the words that you spoke, his body tensed against yours, the confession sending a rush of emotion through him.

He let out a deep, guttural moan, his voice low and rugged. "I love you, too," he murmured, his hands tightening their grip on you.

"Say it again," he demanded, his pace increasing, his body driven by a primal need. "Say you love me again."

"I love you. I love you so much." You cried.

Your words hit him like a wave, washing over him in a flood of emotions. He could feel the depth of your love, the sincerity of your confession, and it only made him crave you more.

His body trembled against yours, his movements erratic, driven by a primal need to claim you, to make you his.

"Again," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Say it again. I need to hear you say it again."

He could hear the desperation in your words, the way you were pulling at your hair, and he knew you were close to the edge. The sight of you, desperate and needy, pleading for him, for his love, only sent his own desire spiralling out of control.

He felt his body tense against yours, his movements growing almost frantic as he strove to give you what you needed.

"Again," he demanded, his voice breathless and ragged. "Say you love me again. Scream it, baby."

"I love you babe." You broke out in tears.

"Oh, darling," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper as he saw the tears fall from your eyes. He felt a pang in his chest, a mixture of guilt and tenderness as he saw you broken beneath him.

He leaned down, his body covering yours, his lips finding the tears on your cheeks. "I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I love you so much, darling. Don't cry."

Oh babe! You felt like you were passing out. "I can't take it anymore." You pleaded.

He could sense that you were reaching your limit, that you were on the verge of passing out. But he couldn't stop, not now.

He leaned down, his mouth against your ear, his voice low and rough. "Yes, you can," he commanded. "You can take it. You're mine, only mine. You'll take whatever I give you. And you'll love every second of it."

He saw the look in your eyes as the next wave of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening and arching beneath him, your scream filling the room.

He held you tight as you passed out, the sound of your name a ragged whisper on his lips.

As he reached his release, his body trembled and tensed against yours. He groaned your name, the sound a mix of relief and pleasure, as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you close to him, his arms encircling you in a tight embrace. He felt exhausted, drained, but also incredibly satisfied.

You began to sob, your emotions raw and exposed, he held you close, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He could feel the tears against his chest, the way your body trembled against his.

"Shhh," he whispered, gently stroking your hair. "It's okay, darling."

He held you, letting you cry, his heart aching for the beautiful, broken woman in his arms.

[devildomditzy]

Pacts - Mammon x MC

Part one of ? Read Part two here

No tw so far! I’ll update if this changes

This also contains my personal headcannons of where MC’s pact mark locations are, none of it is cannon <3

——————————————————————————

Mammon absolutely hated your pact mark location at first.

Standing with you in the kitchen, absolutely humiliated, forced to his knees just to get his precious goldie back from the hands of Diavolo’s new pet- the one he had to unfortunate luck of having to look after. The confusion he felt once he looked up, wiping the frustrated tears beginning to form in his eyes, when he couldn’t see the pact on you; but he can feel it clear as day. There was no mistaking it, he was now bound to you, whether he liked it or not. “Whatever”, he thought to himself, “s’probably somewhere under their sleeve, or their arm or somethin’ stupid”. It didn’t matter to him, all that mattered to him was the piece of plastic in your grip that was now being passed over to him.

Yes!

“Now, I command you to pay Levi back what you owe him.”

Fuck!

A few days and a few draining shifts at Hell’s Kitchen later to save up enough to pay back his younger brother at the command of the new pain in his ass, it finally occurs to Mammon that he could now feel new sensations, specifically feelings that weren’t his own, and he comes to the conclusion that he has you to thank for this unwanted connection. His heart pulls at your loneliness when you lock yourself away in the guest room, scared of your new home and dejected by those around you. He feels himself become homesick for the human realm, a place he’d never regard as ‘home’ considering the amount of money grubbing witches after his wallet residing there. He feels his heartbeat speed up in tandem with yours every time you’re together. He’s not sure what to make of that one.

It doesn’t take long- a week at most, until he’s knocking on your door with enough force you’d think he’d bowl it down. You open the door with wild eyes, not sure who’d be bothering to visit you at this hour. The familiar race in your chest begins when you lock eyes with him. He can’t keep his own on you for long, finding the silence and the tension unbearable.

“Yo!”

“H-hey Mammon.”

“…”

“…”

“I think I left my charger in here earlier, better check for it.”

“Oh. I can grab it for yo-”

“NO! N-nah, I mean I can come in n get it myself, ‘m not stupid.”

“I..never said you were?”

“J-just lemme in!”

Mammon pushes past you and walks into your room, trying to seem nonchalant as he pick up blankets and shoves them aside, kicking up clothes in pursuit of his charger. He’s not surprised to find it where he strategically left it after your TSL marathon last night. He grabs it with the fingers of one hand, looping his thumbs into his pockets before turning back around to face you.

“Listen…if ya scared of Levi-”

“I’m not..”

“Or any of my brother for that matter…I could…ya know, look out for ya…”

“Aren’t you already supposed to be doing that?”

You cock your eyebrow at him, whether in suspicion or bemusement he’s not too sure. Why was this so hard to get out?

“Very funny. What I’m tryin’ to say is I could stay with ya! To.. ya know… make you less…scared…”

“You want to stay in my room? Like, a sleepover?”

Okay. Now it’s definitely bemusement. He can feel the heat rising up to his cheeks, his shoulders tensing up and back as he prepares for dejection, to be laughed at. What was he doing in the first place? He was just trying to find a way to get these feelings to stop, to stop feeling this weird psychic like connection he now had to your human mood swings. And he figured the best way to do that was to ask to stay with you? Overnight? IN YOUR ROOM? ALONE?!?

With the implications now hitting the second born straight in the face, a flurry of words begin to fly out of his mouth at a rapid pace. He’s clamoring to bring the conversation back to normalcy, throwing in a few insults just to be sure, and doing what he does best: backpedaling! But that stupid face on your face makes it hard to form a coherent reasoning as to why he wouldn’t want to be caught dead hanging out with the human, and that rapid thump, thump, thumping in his chest that he’s sure is somehow your fault is too distraction to overlook, and oh fuck you’re opening your mouth to speak-

“Sure.”

“I mean it’s not like I’d WANT to stay in here with ya! In fact, think of it like a favor- or better yet, a service! I don’t work for fr- wait. Did you say sure?”

“Sure. I could use some company. Honestly I’ve been pretty lonely since I got here.”

The demon finds himself too stunned to speak. It takes a giggle from you to break him out of his trance.

“Yeah. Yeah! I mean, I’m The Great Mammon, who wouldn’t wanna chill with me! Just don’t tell my brothers I was hangin’ around ya!”

“Yeah, I got it. The whole never wanna be caught with the weak, “fragile human” thing.”

You pause and he notices how your face briefly falls before you catch yourself. He not sure what to make of that one. But he knows you feel a little hurt. Because he can feel it too.

“So.. wanna watch a movie?”

One and a half stale comedy movies later and the second born is finding it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. He knows you feel it too as he glances over at your slumped form. Your eyes may be staring dead ahead at the tv set, but he knows you aren’t absorbing a single word being said. It takes him a few tries to grab your attention.

“Oi…Oi!”

You jump, startled at the voice coming next to you. You slowly rotate towards them, blinking a few times and stifling a yawn.

“You oughta lay down. Ya look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m going to change into pajamas. Did you bring any?”

Mammon shakes his head, “Nah, I gotta run back to my room ‘n change. I’ll be right back.”

You give a nod before disappearing into the bathroom. Mammon stretches before standing and making his way out the door. He figures his usual bedtime attire would get him a swift slap to the face, so he opts to go to sleep clothed tonight, it being your room and all.

His usual swagger has become lose and hazy as he walks back into your room, adorned in sweatpants and a hoodie he’d managed to swipe off his floor. He doesn’t bother knocking as he grips the handle, throwing your door open and shutting it behind him and while staring down at his D.D.D.

“So, ya want me to take the couch or w-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”

His phone clatters to the ground as his eyes grow in shock.

“What! What do you mean?!”, you ask, glancing down at yourself to frantically locate what could possibly pull that kind of reaction out of the second born. The straps of your tank top allowed for much more skin to show than what Mammon was used to seeing from you, but surely that couldn’t be the cause of his concern.

“T-That! Ya didn’t tell me you had a huge tattoo on yer chest!”

Your eyes travel down to the scooped neck line and thin strap that adorned your body. That’s when it dawns on you - he’s never actually seen this before. The mark that you’ve seen everyday since that day in the kitchen. Since you traded Mammon his credit line for his free will.

“Oh that. I..I think that’s yours?”

“MINE!? WHADDYA MEAN MINE?!”

“It kinda showed up after that day in the kitchen. Where we did the kneeling thing in the circle?”

“My pact mark?! O-over top your heart!? Nuh-uh, no way. This can’t be happening.”

It was clear to see Mammon was in full blown panic mode, but as to why would be anyone’s guess.

“Well uh, I don’t remember sitting down to get a big ass tattoo of some kind of…crest? I don’t know, look at it, see for yourself.”

“Q-QUIT PULLIN’ YA SHIRT DOWN!”

Mammon practically runs across the room, shielding his eyes with one hand while grappling with you to leave your shirt alone with the other.

“Hey! I didn’t choose to put it there! Did you?”

“OI! OF COURSE NOT!”

“Stop screaming and tell me if it’s yours!”

Though his mind doesn’t want to, his eyes automatically look downwards towards the exposed area of your chest. There’s no mistaking it. He’d know his mark anywhere, he knows it like the back of his hand. The mark of his greed. The same mark that lay right over your heart. His mark. He takes a sharp breath in. It glows a bright, blinding golden shine. He feels his heart beginning to speed up once more.

Shit.

Mammon bolts out of your room.

——————————————————————————

Ever since that occurrence, the second born has made himself as scarce as he possibly could be from your life. It’s not like Mammon could just neglect his duties as your watch dog, Lucifer would have his head if he did, and he fails to see how there’s any coming back from a punishment fit for “failing Lord Diavolo”. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought.

It was simple really, if he didn’t overthink it. Walk the human to and from R.A.D, make sure they’re not gettin’ picked on, NEVER talk about what happened last week and ALWAYS deflect if they brought it up. And Of COURSE you’d bring it up. Stupid humans and their inability to know when to just leave it alone.

It happens the first time he walks you to class after the fact. You didn’t run after him when he ran. Not surprising, he thought. “Musta thought they did somethin’ wrong”, he reflected alone, but then again, you did, didn’t you? You must have done something to make his mark, his crest, his claim fall perfectly atop the left side of your chest.

“Sooooo… are you gonna tell me why you ran away off the other night? If my shoulders were that spooky, I could have put on a t-shirt, you know.”

“I dunno what yer talkin’ about.”

The second born’s steely concentration remains aimed down at his D.D.D, where he currently typed furiously arguing with his brothers in the house’s group chat.

“Okay, so it’s not my shoulders. Was it these bad boys? You know, us humans can be pretty scary”, you grunt, drawing out the last words while flexing what little muscle you had in a teasing manner in an attempt to lighten the mood. Unfortunately for your dignity, Mammon doesn’t even throw a glance your way. “Uh huh, yea”, he mumbles, fingers continuing to fly across his keyboard.

Wanting to know what conversation he found so enthralling, you decide to slip your own D.D.D out of your pocket, clicking on the group chat notifications you’ve been receiving.

Leviathan: Ugh, I can’t believe I have to attend class today in person. I feel like such a normie.

Satan: Good. Maybe you’ll start to leave your room more often and stop being such a shut in.

Leviathan: Hey! If anyones a shut in lately, it’s Mammon! I’ve barely seen him at all this week! Every time I try to talk to him he says “he’s busy” and to “leave him alone”.

Lucifer: Interesting. Mammon, care to explain why you’re so busy?

Mammon: I’m not up to nothin’, I swear! I’m just studyin’ is all.

Asmodeus: Aww, are you too busy playing with your new human that you don’t have time for your own brothers?

Mammon: Shuddup! I’m watchin’ over them and that’s that.

Asmodeus: Don’t play dumb with us, Mammon <3 Levi told us all about what went down in the kitchen.

Mammon: LEVI! I SWEAR TA FATH- I DONT KNOW WHAT I SWEAR TO BUT IM GONNA KILL YA’

Beelzebub: Kitchen….

Mammon: BEEL YER NOT HELPING!

Satan: Did you really expect you could hide a newly form pact from us? The exchange student is absolutely radiating with your power now.

Asmodeus: Aw, I wanna make the human radiate too!

Mammon: I had no choice okay! They practically blackmailed me into it!

Leviathan: You could have said no, if you weren’t such a money grubbing scumbag.

Mammon: Hey! Goldie belongs to ME! I had to get her back no matter the cost.

Lucifer: That also sounds rather interesting. Mammon, care to explain?

Mammon: EEP!

Asmodeus: What I find rather interesting is that pact! I want all the details! Like, what did their face look like when you formed it? Was their mouth open? What sounds did they make? Did they sound like moans? Were they more beautiful than mine?

Mammon: Like I’m tellin’ ya any of that!

Asmodeus: Ooo I know! Where did the pact sigil form? <3

Finding the conversation now centering all around you, you decide to speak for yourself.

MC: On my chest. It sits a bit over my heart.

Mammon’s head shoots up to look at you, expression a mix of terror and shock. It was almost as if he forgot you were also apart of this conversation.

“Wha-WHY’D YA GO AND TELL EM’ THAT!”

“C-cause it’s the truth? Is it supposed to be a secret? They said they already knew?”

“Not about the pact! About the chest thing! About the h-heart thing!”

Suddenly your D.D.Ds notifications both start blaring at the same time, notifications buzzing much faster than they had before.

Asmodeus: Ooo Mammon ~ very bold of you <3

Leviathan: Eww gross… Are you kidding me? You guys met like what, not even three weeks ago?

Satan: I do have to say given the implications, that does seem very sudden.

You decide being the center talk of the HOL’s tabloid was not for you. If Mammon wasn’t going to give you answers, you were going to get them one way or another out of one of these boys.

MC: What ‘implications’?

“That’s it!”

You jump as you hear Mammon speak up next to you, reaching over to yank your D.D.D put of your hands and holding it over your head. You jump up and try to grab it from his grasp, but it’s not use.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Nun-uh. Ya too distracted and at this rate we’re gonna be late.”

“Since when have you ever cared about being late?”

“Since Lucifer threatened to skin me alive if I don’t deliver ya to school on time. Now c’mon, let’s get goin’.”

Mammon slips his arm out of one strap of his bag and maneuvers it around to his front, unzipping a pocket and dropping your D.D.D inside.

“But, what if I need it for something? Like, an emergency!”

“Ya don’t need it. Ya got me remember. Don’t know how ya could forget with that big ass blemish on yer chest.” Though he mumbles the last part under his breath, it was just enough for you to hear.

“You…you think it’s a blemish?”, you ask, not feigning to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Oh no. Oh fuck. He can feel it again. That rapid beat beat beating of your heart, and the rising sadness beginning to bubble in your stomach.

“That’s not what I meant,” Mammon starts, but before he can finish the words are already leaving your mouth.

“You know, thanks for walking me, but I think I forgot something at HOL. I can find my own way back.”

“MC, wait!”

Now it was your turn to bolt away from him.

——————————————————————————

[okwonyo]

﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ──SUMMER NIGHT. in which ⸝ ㅤ 𝗃𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

엔하이픈 제이 ⠀ ノ⠀ female reader 6OO repost ； for @boyfhee ！ non-idol au fluff potential friends2lovers ⠀⎯⠀⠀ not proof-read skinship kissing ⠀， recueil . . .

a/n. for the talented, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing cael who has always been kind and caring to me >< i love and appreciate her a whole lot !

this is not how you imagined your summer to be. the endless enthusiasm taking over your body whenever your friend asks you to go shopping, going on a walk in the depth of the night and waving back at the see, are dreams that feel far away from you now.

the way you got enrolled in that summer project by your friend is far behind you. the ten hours straight of drawing weighting on your shoulders added to the unbearable summer heat is taking too much if your energy to hate her. the only comforting you each day, after a day that seems longer than the last one, is the sight of your best friend waiting for you on the stairs.

you usually run to him with a wide smile on your face. he walks you home, sometimes he even slide his hand in yours and you both avoid talking about the butterflies you feel in your stomach. jay gives you a hug and whisper a soft good night in your ear.

it’s different lately. there is something that shifted, in the way that he acts around you or the way your answer to his actions. shy, awkward and sweet. you can see it in his face— whether jay has something he doesn’t want to say, or whether he has reasons, for the times he shows an unfamiliar side of him, or wether he’s currently trying to overcome something, you can’t really be sure about it, but you just want him to enjoy the moment. thus, even if your mini ventilator died in your hands.

you end up sleeping on the a table in the art atelier, after drawing him playing the guitar; the sound you hear from across the hall, right next to where the stairs he sits on is, you can tell from the way the corner of his lips turns up, that he likes it. he always loves the guitar as far as you know, and you always loved seeing him play. it made your heart swell.

jay must have wondered where you are, he comes to look for you after a while, right after helping a kid with his guitar lesson —because his heart is tender like that. his eyes run around the piece and they stop in your beautiful sleeping face. the moonlight peaking through the windows reflects on your face. all red and a bit sweaty as you softly snore, he has never seen anything cuter.

his eyes run around the room, stopping, at some point, on a board, “the exhibition deadline was last thursday? it was a few days ago,” he whispers as he reads it. “then why is she⎯”

he gets cut by his own brain when his gaze falls on you again, falling on the skretch you made of him. his ears heat up as he stands here. he sits on the chair next to you; his leans his head on the table hand faces you, “you are quick witted, also really kind,” he whispers to you.

jay contemplates you for a while before straightening up. he leans towards you, gets lost in your features and at a given time, his forehead collides with yours softly, in a well too natural motion, as if god created him with only one thought in mind; to be here with you and tell you: “i like you,” with a soft spoken tone, kissing you on the corner of your mouth right after.

he blames the soft red flush appearing on your face on the unsustainable summer’s heat you keep complaining to him about. the smile he loves with all his might, appearing on your lips, however, is unexplainable.

[huggybearhughes43]

https://www.tumblr.com/huggybearhughes43/755909794547761152/yesss-to-the-threesome-idea

PLS PLS PLS A JACK AND QUINN VERSION IN A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE

Spiked

Jack Hughes x Fem! Reader x Quinn Hughes

Warnings- Smut, PinV, raw dawgin, oral (m! Receiving), mention of hickeys, threesome, mention of spiked drinks, a creepy frat guy

Summary- Reader almost drinks a spiked drink at a party the oldest Hughes brothers were throwing but Quinn and Jack are Quick to stop her. Jack and Quinn innocently finding a way to make the creepy guy who spiked the drink go away, accidentally turns to more between the reader and the two brothers.

Word count- 3k

My face turned to a shade of beat red as I tapped on my red solo cup. I was standing off to the side of the party with one of my friends mindlessly babbling to me. I couldn’t focus on her words at all as I stare daggers into the two oldest Hughes brothers. I hated them. So. Fucking. Much. Luke was the only reasonable one out of the trio of brothers but he wasn’t even here to keep me from tearing off his two brother’s heads, even though the party was in his own brothers lake house.

They were obnoxious, rude, and stuck up. It was like the two older brothers were raised by a whole completely different set of parents as the youngest. “Y/n!” My eyes snap away from the brothers, my demeanor most likely turning for the worse. “What’s wrong?” My eyes dart to her and I sigh, “they just- ugh- they get under my skin so much.” Her brow raises with a slight smirk. “Y/n, they haven’t even talked to you the whole night.” Her calling out makes my face darken even more, her laughter making it worse.

I squeeze the cup in my hand subconsciously and scoff at my actions. I take the crushed cup to throw away in the kitchen. I clench my jaw as I pass the two brothers, their snickers almost unbearable. I toss the cup in the trash and make my way to make myself a new cup. I stand in front of the punch bowl, contemplating if I could trust it. I don’t even notice the presence behind me until it speaks, “c’mon you’re smarter than that.” He whispers, his warm breath making the hair on my neck stand up.

“You were doing so good on not pissing me off tonight, Quinn.” I put the cup on the counter and turn around to face him, crossing my arms. He smirks and shrugs, “Saw some kid spike it a couple minutes ago, drink it if you want.” He snickers, “I don’t care.” I look back at the punch bowl then my eyes snap up to meet jacks across the bar. He looked annoyed, really annoyed. But it was odd, he didn’t seem annoyed at me, his eyes going a weird kind of soft when they connect with mine.

Jack shrugs his head back to who I presumed was the prick who spiked the drink, then he looks back at Quinn. “You think I could beat his ass?” Quinn laughs, moving to place his hands on either side of me. I was about to say something snarky about him trapping me before he cuts me off, “Jack, as your older brother it hurts me that you’re doubting that you can fold his ass in half.” My eyes snap back to the gross looking frat boy. His hair was greasy and his clothes were wrinkled.

What neither Quinn nor I fail to notice is that the boy was staring daggers into me. I could tell he was hoping I’d drink just enough of the punch for him to get his way. I snap my head to look at Quinn as I feel his hands move to rest on my hips. “What the fuck are you doing?” Jack notices and looks back at the guy that Quinn was still staring at, returning his gaze to us with a roll of his eyes. “Do you want this guy on your ass all night, or what?” I sigh and lean back into Quinn’s touch, giving into the act. “Good girl.” The nickname triggers my fist shoving straight back into Quinn’s gut.

He pinches his eyes shut in pain and lays his head on my shoulder. To anyone else the scene would look dirty but I didn’t care, I mentally praised myself for my actions. Jack stands up from his spot and loops around the bar to stand next to us. Quinn pulls my hips, making me face Jack instead of leaning on the counter. “You assholes are really abusing your power right now, huh?” Quinn rests his chin on my shoulder as Jack towers over me, “can you blame us?” I look around and see jealous eyes on me, no matter how much I disliked them, the two were still very famous hockey players.

“You guys are making me look like a total slut right now.” I pout. The pout on my lips sends a smirk to jacks. His face lowers close to mine and my throat goes dry. “We can make you look like way more than that.” Jack closes the distance and places a kiss on my lips. I don’t kiss back, but I don’t even push him away, I do close my eyes (for the plot of course) so I could trick anyone looking at us. The second he pulls away I look to where the creepy guy was once standing and I see him to be gone. I shove jacks chest and walk past him out of the kitchen, not wanting to be embarrassed any further. “Your lips are really soft!” I hear Jack call out and Quinn snicker as I walk away.

I return to my friend with a huff and an odd looking expression on my face. “They give you a hard time?” She referred to the brothers and I nod without another word. We chatted for a while about the upmost random things, my intentions to get my mind from wandering back to Jacks soft lips and Quinn’s hands on my hips. My attention is taken away from my friend when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I turn around and almost audibly scoff when I see that it’s the stupid frat boy from before.

He holds out a cup in his hands. My eyes snap down to look at its content and a disgusted expression falls to my face, it was the spiked punch. “I think you forgot to get yourself a new drink, I got one for you.” He says with a fake cheerful smile on his face. I shake my head and push the cup away, “you mean the one you fucking roofied?” He looks confused, his eyebrows furrowing. “Who told you that? The Hughes brothers?” He scoffs, “since when are they trustworthy.” My eyes widen in disbelief, “sorry I think I’m going to trust people I’ve known for five years over someone I don’t even know the fucking name of.”

He visibly got angry, redness rising to his face. “You fucking bitch, I got you a drink out of the kindness of my heart, just drink it! Did you think kissing Jack Hughes was going to scare me away?” He raises his voice angrily, taking a step closer to me. My friend is ready to step out from behind me and help me defend myself but she doesn’t have a chance when a hand lays itself on his shoulder and pulls him back. My eyes catch a glimpse of Quinn before his fist collides with the frat boys face. I gasp as the cup of punch that was once in his hand splashes all over my white dress. Jack, whom was right behind Quinn, realizes the problem his brother made. Quinn was far too distracted beating the assholes face in to notice himself.

Jack shoves off his jacket and tosses it to me, “Bathrooms upstairs to the left, call me if you need anything.” I look back at my friend before I leave, my eyes met with her cheeky grin. I grab her hand and drag her upstairs with me, refusing to be alone at this party. I close the door behind us once we get into the bathroom, shoving Jacks jacket onto the counter. I stare at the stain and pout. My friend shrugs, “we can dye it red when we get back to our apartment.” I tilt my head and smile, “what would I ever do without you?” “Crash and burn” she laughs then her face suddenly turns serious, “you kissed Jack Hughes?”

She giggles at the blush on my face. “He kissed me, I didn’t even kiss him back.” She giggles softly. There’s a knock at the door that she opens to reveal the brothers. She looks back at me and smiles, “I’ll meet you back at home, I think you’re in good hands.” She shrugs and walks past the brothers. I stare at them and rub my arm subconsciously. Quinn walks in first, followed by Jack. Quinn’s hands were full from the clothes he had in them. He tosses them on the counter with Jacks jacket before speaking, “I think this is the part where you thank us.” I roll my eyes, “I could’ve handled myself.”

“God, you are such a bitch.” Jack mumbles and leans against the wall. I sigh and scratch my neck, feeling guilty because they really did help me. “Thank you” I whine out reluctantly. They look at each other with nasty smirks plastered on their lips. “Y/n” Quinn speaks out before looking at me. I cross my arms stubbornly, “what?” The music from the party downstairs was still booming throughout the house, signaling the party wasn’t even close to coming to an end. He rolls his eyes, “our cars are blocked into the driveway and by the time everyone actually goes home it’ll be close to morning.” I raise a brow, “sooooo?” “So either you stay here for the night or you walk the two hour walk to your place in pitch black.” Jack reminds me.

I huff and puff, “fine, whatever.” They give each other a knowing look before leaving. “Showers free to use, I think our mom left some soap in there the last time she came over.” I nod silently as they leave. Jack locks the door just before he shuts it. I sigh and pull the semi ruined dress over my head, Quinn’s voice echos from downstairs as he shoos everyone out of their house. I turn on the shower and finish getting undressed while the water warms up. I step in and suddenly all of the stress washes out of me with the steaming water.

Once I finish washing up I step out of the shower and stumble around to find a towel. Once I do I wrap in around myself and use another to dry the trail of water I left behind me. I huff and look through the drawers and smile when I find a drawer they keep for their mother. I can’t help but to smile at the thought but just as I realize the expression on my face it drops. I take the brush out and brush through my hair, followed by using some makeup remover to remove any makeup that lingered even after the shower.

I look at the pile of clothes that was oh so generously lended to me. I decide that the clothes were baggy enough to not wear anything underneath. I put the t shirt and night pants on before folding my clothes and sitting it in the far corner of the counter. I rub my eyes and walk out into the hallway. The music was shut off and the house was almost silent. I silently walked down the stairs to see both of the boys with trash bags in their hands, shoveling empty cups and any other questionable items into it. I giggle to myself before leaning on their bar, “You two clean up nice.”

Quinn looks back at me and his eyes widen before looking me up at down before clearing his throat and looking away. “You too” he mumbles. Jack tries his best to hold in his laughter at his older brother’s reaction to me wearing his clothes. “There’s some soda in the fridge in the garage, if you want something to drink that’s y’know… safe.” Jack suggests as he refers to the punch that they had yet to dispose of. “Thanks” I turn around to go into the garage door that was behind me.

I come back to the kitchen with a can in my hand. I walk over to the boys and flop down on the newly cleaned couch. “You could help.” Quinn huffs, causing me to smile. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware quests were supposed to help with cleaning.” I shrug and sip on the soda in my hand. He rolls his eyes and continues picking up the trash. As soon as they finish cleaning they both flop down on the couch on each side of me. I cover my mouth to hold in a gag as I stand up. “You guys smell like straight beer.” “Aw, c’mon it’s not that bad.” Jack laughs.

Quinn reaches out and grabs my hips, pulling me into his lap. He hugs me tight and I can’t help but audibly show my disgust. He laughs and he forces his gross scent to me, my wiggling and attempts to get out of his grasp force him to drop me on the couch. My head lands on Jacks lap as Quinn hovered over me. My eyes drifted from Quinn’s to Jacks as I caught my breath. Jacks hand cups my chin, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. “Still so soft” he teases through a smirk.

My attention snaps back to Quinn when he speaks, “Tell us to stop and we will, we’ll forget about it completely.” I don’t quite understand Quinn’s words until he connects his lips to the flesh of my neck. My jaw slacks at the sudden movement and Jack takes it as his chance to shove his thumb between my lips. I close my lips on his thumb instinctively to quiet my sounds, not wanting the brothers to get too cocky. Quinn’s lips trail down to the collar of my shirt, he looks up at me for a moment before he rips it over my head, Jacks thumb instantly taking its place back between my lips.

Both Quinn and Jack look down at my bare chest. Jacks eyes snap back to my face or more precisely my lips but Quinn’s stayed level with my chest. He presses soft kisses to each breast before moving down and trailing kisses down my stomach. Jacks thumb doesn’t silence the involuntary moan from my lips when I feel Quinn harshly suck a mark into the skin just above where his pants sat. His teeth nipped at my skin as he pulled away to rid of the pants he’d grown to hate.

Quinn stared down at my naked body, admiring for a moment. Jack pulled his hand away from me, letting me look at his brother. “You’re so fucking pretty” he mumbles softly. “Wanna flip over for us?” Jack suggests and I nod. I flip over, pushing my ass in the air for Quinn as I make haste at unbuttoning Jacks pants. Jacks hand moves the rest on top of my head. I could hear the sound of Quinn’s belt hitting the floor and him scrambling to unbutton his own pants.

I look up at Jack through my eyelashes innocently, a smirk taunting over his lips. I kitten lick his tip while maintaining eye contact. His lip slots between his lips, his eyes droopy from the pleasure. Quinn fists his own cock behind me, running it over my folds to make sure I’m ready enough for him. I take Jack in my mouth, running my hand over what I couldn’t fit down my throat. Quinn takes it a sharp breath as he pushes into me. The vibrations of my own moans around Jack’s dick forces him to grasp my hair tighter.

The sensation of Quinn thrusting back and forth into me makes my whole body numb. Jack could tell that my movements were faltering so he helped. He tangled his hand in my hair and began moving my head up and down, careful to not push too far and risk hurting me. Quinn harshly grasps my hips, pulling me back to meet his thrusts. The never ending forced moans spiked pleasure through Jacks body. “Fuck, gonna make me cum already.” Jack complained, only half joking. But the other half wished this sensation would never go away.

One particularly hard thrust from Quinn pushes me all the way down on Jacks dick. I gag around him and tears prick at my eyes. Jack throws his head back as he comes undone in my mouth. I pull away and swallow all that I could, sticking my tongue out as proof. He smiles softly and rubs my cheek before tucking himself back in his pants. He moves me to rest on his lap, using his legs as a pillow while Quinn ruined me. Quinn’s thrusts got sloppy and harder, pushing me closer and closer to my orgasm. Just with one more thrust he pushes me over the edge, my pussy clenching and cumming around his dick sends him to his own orgasm. He pulls out and pumps himself to cum all over my back.

Once he settles through his high, he leans over and kisses my shoulder softly. “I’ll be back in a second.” While I waiting for the oldest to come back, I rested on Jackson thighs with his hands rubbing my neck and shoulders, praising me. I couldn’t even think straight yet, I couldn’t think about how I just hooked up with not only the guys I hate but famous hockey players. Quinn returns with a warm damp rag in his hand. He takes his place behind me again and cleans me up. He discards the rag and finds a blanket to drape over me.

I turn my head to look at Jack, batting my eyelashes at him, “you don’t want a turn?” He laughs softly and shakes his head, “maybe another time, baby girl, you need sleep. Besides I want you all to myself.” Quinn scoffs as he stands up, buttoning his pants. “Don’t act like you’re better than me.” Quinn says, slapping his brother’s head as he walks past him and goes upstairs. He looks down at me with a smile on his face, “I’ll stay down here with you, get some rest.” I nod and allow my eyes to flutter shut, falling asleep quickly in the comfort of Jack Hughes lap.

[goblinontour]

Nothing Gold Can Stay

a different side of him…and it’s really hot

part 5 | series masterlist

warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), smut, oral (m/f receiving), piv, spanking, orgasm denial(ish), backshots!!!

word count: 9.5k

It was hot. Unbearably hot. With the academic year winding down, you and Alex spent more and more time at home, finishing up final assignments and reports. Alex couldn’t stand it. He hated this part. Office hours were dull, writing reports even more so, and working from home felt more like a prison sentence than anything. But having you there made it slightly more bearable. A lot more bearable actually…If only the heat wasn't so stifling.

Alex couldn’t focus. He let you use his office for your studies, so you kind of claimed it as yours subconsciously. So he found himself wandering the house aimlessly, the oppressive heat making it hard to think straight. He peered into the office, seeing you deeply engrossed in your work at his desk.

You didn't notice him at first, but when you looked up, your eyes widened. Alex stood at the door, completely naked except for the chain around his neck and the tattoo on his arm. He caught your gaze, looking at him, staring, eyeing him up and down, and if you weren’t so shocked you maybe would have noticed him smirking at your reaction.

“What? Did you expect me to wear a suit in my own house? I’m choosing comfort today…and it’s so fucking hot.” he declared, moving to the sofa but never taking his eyes off you.

He lounged there for a moment, but his restless energy got the better of him. He began pacing the room, his presence an insistent reminder of his proximity. You tried to concentrate on your work, but his pacing, his very existence, was distracting you.

Finally, he approached you, sliding into your lap on the office chair. His skin was warm and sticky against yours, and you could feel his frustration with the heat radiating off him.

“God, it’s so hot in here.” he murmured, starting to unbutton your shirt slowly.

You raised an eyebrow. “I get that, but why are you unbuttoning my shirt?”

He grinned, pausing to kiss your neck. “First of all, it’s my shirt.” Another kiss. “And second…” His lips brushed against your skin, sending shivers despite the heat, “I can’t have you overheating in here, darling…you should thank me.”

His kisses grew more insistent, and despite the sweltering heat, you felt a different kind of warmth spreading through you. And yet, you couldn’t help but laugh, pushing him back slightly.

“If this is your idea of keeping cool, you’re doing a terrible job.” you teased, but there was no mistaking the affection in your voice.

He chuckled, nuzzling against your neck. “Maybe. But at least it’s more interesting than writing reports.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“How are your boobs?” he asked, trying to stay serious, but you could tell he was playing.

You gave him a playful look, “They're just fine?”

“Let me see.” he insisted, grabbing one in his hand and acting as if he were inspecting it carefully. You stared at him, confused.

“What? I just wanted to make sure they're okay.” he said with mock seriousness.

You looked at him, trying to hold your expression, but then both of you burst out laughing. He kissed you again, this time with a deeper, lingering passion. His lips moved against yours, making you forget the heat, the work, everything but the feel of him.

His kissing became more telling, his lips moving with a slow, deliberate passion that sent shivers through you despite the oppressive heat. His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue dancing with yours, exploring and tasting. You could feel every movement, every shift of his lips against yours, soft yet demanding.

As his hips pressed closer, you felt the unmistakable hardness of his cock brushing against your thigh. Each subtle grind, each slow movement, teased both of you, slowly but surely building the anticipation. His breath hitched slightly with each thrust, the friction driving him to the brink.

You broke the kiss for a moment, your eyes meeting his, dark with desire. He smirked at how quickly he got you turned on, but it was edged with his own need. “You know,” he murmured, his voice husky, “If anyone walked by right now, they’d have quite the view.”

You glanced over his shoulder, realising you were right in front of the window. The thought sent a thrill through you, adding to the already heady mix of sensations. “Maybe I should open it," he continued to tease, “Let them hear us too. But it’s too hot even for that.”

You chuckled, but the sound caught in your throat as he ground his hips harder, the slow friction against his cock making him moan softly. “I’m so in the mood for a lazy fuck.” he confessed, sounding almost desperate.

You tried to muster some resistance, remembering the work waiting on the desk. “Alex, I’m busy, I can’t-“

He silenced you with another kiss, his lips pressing firmly against yours. “I’m your professor, you can’t say no to this.” he whispered, his voice a mix of pleading and confidence, his hands continuing their slow, deliberate movements.

You managed a playful smirk. “Is that so, Mr. Turner?”

“Mhm.” he replied, lips brushing against your neck. But you still shook your head, pushing him back gently.

“No, Alex. I really can’t.”

He sighed dramatically, “Ugh, fine.”

Sliding down from the chair onto his knees, he spread your thighs apart. The sticky sound of your skin peeling from the leather echoed in the room, adding to the already charged atmosphere. His eyes darkened as he saw your panties peeking from underneath the oversized shirt. The thin fabric barely concealed your arousal, and his breath hitched slightly at the sight.

With a mischievous grin, he pushed the light fabric of his shirt you were wearing to the side, teasing you over the material of your underwear. The subtle, playful touch made you jump, a spark of unexpected sensitivity coursing through you.

“Keep working.” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement and command.

His fingers traced light patterns over your panties, feeling the growing dampness. He watched in fascination as the material darkened with your wetness, a visual testament to your arousal. With a deft movement, he pulled your panties aside, revealing your glistening pussy. He took a moment to just look, his eyes drinking in the sight, his cock hardening and twitching at the view.

“God, you're so pretty.” he whispered, almost to himself.

His fingers returned, slipping past your slick lips, playing in the wetness. The sensation was electrifying, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through you. He found your clit between the tight folds of flesh and began flicking it, his movements precise and careful, driving you to the edge. The heat of his touch contrasted with the cool feeling of the wetness hitting the air, making every sensation more intense.

For him, the feeling was intoxicating. His cock, painfully hard, occasionally brushed against the floor from his position, the rough surface adding an unexpected layer of friction that only fueled his desire. The sight of your arousal, the way your body responded to his touch, made his own need almost unbearable.

He didn’t care about himself now though, his poor cock leaking precum onto the floor. No. All he wanted right now was to play with you, to watch you unravel under his touch. His fingers danced around your clit, flicking it with increasing intensity, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you. The wet sounds of his fingers moving in your slickness filled the room, a symphony to his ears.

He leaned in and his tongue flicked out, tasting your arousal, his lips following in the path of his fingers. The feeling was exquisite, his mouth warm and wet, every movement thought out perfectly to tease you. His cock twitched with every moan you made, his own arousal a constant reminder of his need for you.

Sweat quickly built up and dripped from the top of his thighs all the way to his knees, making the floor slick. He almost slipped, catching himself just in time, his movements becoming more deliberate and cautious. Your own thighs were slipping on the chair, the leather sticking to your skin from the heat and the sensations he was drawing out of you.

As he slipped a finger inside you, the wet squelching noises increased, growing louder and more obscene. The sound was intoxicating, a proof of just how turned on you were. He bit your inner thigh, the sharp sting pulling a gasp from your lips, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of desire and a plea for you to give in to him.

“Come on,” he murmured, his voice rough with need, "I need this. I need you."

The taste of you was addictive, a heady mix of salt and sweetness that coated his tongue and left him craving more. Each flick of his tongue was calculated to draw out your moans, his mouth exploring every inch of you. His fingers curled inside you, the slick, warm wetness enveloping them, the rhythm of his movements both torturous and perfect.

Your body reacted to his touch in ways you couldn’t control. His teasing strokes were too light, each one sending frustrating sparks of pleasure that left you wanting more. He lapped at you with slow movements, savouring every taste, every reaction you gave him.

His own pleasure was an afterthought, a dull ache between his thighs as his cock kept brushing against the slick floor. The sensation was maddening, the friction only adding to his desperate need. He bit down gently on your inner thigh again, a silent plea for you to give in, to let him have what he wanted.

The room was filled with the wet, lewd sounds of his fingers moving inside you, the intensity of the sensations making it hard to focus on anything else. His whispered pleas and the feeling of his mouth and hands on you were driving you to the edge, the line between pleasure and desperation blurring with every touch.

You couldn't resist any longer. The pen slipped from your fingers, everything you were working on forgotten. How could you even think you could concentrate with his mouth and fingers driving you insane? Grabbing his head, you bent down and kissed him, catching him off guard. He didn't have time to react, his fingers still buried inside you. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting yourself on him. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, his wet, warm tongue meeting yours as you deepened the kiss, pulling him closer and surrendering to the heat of the moment.

You could feel his surprise melt into hunger, his kiss growing more urgent as he responded. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him more than anything else at that moment. His fingers continued their teasing movements inside you, the wet sounds mingling with the taste of your own juices on his tongue. It was intoxicating, overwhelming.

His other hand roamed up your body, slipping under the oversized shirt, his touch sending shivers through you despite the oppressive heat. You could feel his cock, hard and leaking, pressing against your thigh, the slick floor making his movements more frantic. He shifted, trying to find a better angle, almost slipping again, his breath hitching in frustration and desire.

You pulled back from the kiss, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “I can't think when you do that.”

“That's the point.” he murmured back, his voice rough with need. He thrust his fingers deeper, curling them inside you, the sensation making you gasp. “I want you to feel nothing but this.”

You could barely hold back a moan, your thighs slipping on the chair as he pushed you closer to the edge. The heat was unbelievers, the sweat mixing with the wetness between your legs, amplifying every touch, every sensation. You could feel his need, his desperation, in every movement, every kiss.

His teeth grazed your neck, his breath hot against your already burning skin as he kissed his way down your body. He reached your chest, his mouth closing around a nipple, sucking gently before biting down, just enough to make you gasp. His fingers never stopped their relentless teasing, the wet noises growing louder, filthier.

You grabbed his head again, pulling him back up to kiss him, your tongue slipping into his mouth, tasting the salt of your sweat mixed with the sweetness of his need. His fingers slipped out of you, and he bent back down to replace them with his tongue, diving into your wetness, licking and sucking with a desperation that mirrored your own.

His tongue flicked against your clit, making it impossible to think, to do anything but feel, just like he said he wanted. Your hips bucked against his mouth, your body responding to his every touch, every kiss. He was relentless, his need alone driving him, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers joined his tongue, slipping back inside of you, curling and thrusting in rhythm with his licks. The sensations were too much, too overwhelming, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall.

“Alex…” you gasped, your hands gripping the sides of the chair, trying to hold on to something, anything, as he drove you closer to your orgasm. Or to insanity. Maybe both. "I-I can't...I need…”

He bit your inner thigh again, harder this time, pulling a scream from your lips. “Give in to me.” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate. “Let go. I need you to let go.”

And with that, you did. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, pulling you under, your body trembling and shaking with the force of it. You could feel him smiling against your skin, his tongue and fingers never stopping, driving you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were nothing but a quivering, panting mess.

He rested his head on your thigh for a moment, catching his breath. The sheen of sweat on his brow glistened in the dim light, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Have I earned my fuck now?” he asked, his voice joking but clearly out of breath, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled, equally breathless. “Yeah.”

He sat up, balancing himself on the edge of the desk for a moment before picking you up from the chair. His grip was firm yet gentle, the warmth of his hands seeping through your skin. He settled into the chair, then pulled you back onto his lap, your still clothed back pressed against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against you.

Alex's hands roamed over your body, fingers tracing the contours of your curves, enjoying the feel of your heated skin against his. His lips found the curve of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses there, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. The heat between you was almost too much, beads of sweat forming and mingling on your skin, but you didn’t mind it at this point. You could feel his cock pressing insistently against you, the hard length of him pulsing with need.

His hands snaked around you, his fingers dipping below the waistband of your panties. He pushed them down just enough, letting them slide to your knees before they dropped to the floor. The whole time, his hard cock rubbed between your arsecheeks, slick with both his precum and sweat, making it easy for him to slide against your skin.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice thick with anticipation. You nodded, feeling his hand guide his cock to your entrance. He slid inside you smoothly, the wetness making it effortless, yet the tightness due to your position made it all the more intense.

“Fuck…” he swore, his voice a low growl. “So tight...so perfect.”

Every inch of him was buried inside you, and you could feel his body shudder against yours. The sensation of him filling you completely, combined with the overwhelming heat, created a heady mix of pleasure and discomfort that was maddeningly good.

You gasped, gripping his thighs for support as he began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate, savouring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The friction was exquisite, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of you. Everything was wet, slick with sweat and arousal, amplifying every movement, every touch.

“Take the shirt off.” Alex murmured, his voice rough.

You glanced at the window and shook your head. “But the window-”

“I don’t care.” he replied, his words taking a more commanding tone. He reached for the collar of the shirt and pulled it down from your shoulders. There was a momentary cool sensation, but the feeling of his hands roaming your now exposed body quickly brought the heat back. He kept the shirt in his hand, occasionally wiping the sweat from his forehead to keep it from dripping onto his face.

Alex's hands slid down your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against him as he thrust into you. The rhythm he set was slow and deep, each thrust a measured stroke that made you feel all of him. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, the tightness of your position making every sensation more intense.

“God, you're amazing.” he murmured. His lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine again despite the heat. "So fucking wet...I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you could feel yourself clenching around him in response. Alex groaned, his grip on your waist tightening as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The chair creaked beneath you, adding to the symphony of sounds filling the room. The wetness of your bodies moving together, the ragged breaths, the low moans of pleasure.

You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, mingling with his, making your bodies slide against each other with each movement. The heat was suffocating, but it only seemed to reel him further. Alex's fingers dug into your hips, guiding you as you moved together, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink.

He tried to take his chain off from around his neck but couldn't manage one-handed, his other hand wrapped tightly around you, keeping you from falling off his lap. “Help me take this off, please.” he said, his voice strained.

You didn’t understand at first, so he clarified, “The chain. Now, please. I can’t-”

You placed your left leg over his thigh, your other hanging between his legs, turning enough to unclasp the gold necklace for him. “Nothing gold can stay.” you whispered, stopping to kiss him. His thrusts slowed as well, your position making it difficult for him to move.

“Poetic…I thought that was my thing.” he whispered back between heavy breaths. “Any hidden meaning to that?”

“Are you asking me if I think we’ll last?” you asked.

“Hmm…so you’re saying we’re gold, huh?” he teased.

“I think we are.” you said.

“Yeah, you’re just as pretty…”

“And you’re just as soft, Mr. Turner.” you replied.

He responded with a hard thrust, making you moan and cling to him tighter. “Soft?” he asked jokingly, proceeding to push you forward, steadying yourself on the edge of the desk.

The shift in position intensified everything, making his movements even more pronounced. He resumed his rhythm, each thrust getting more powerful. You could feel the friction of his cock sliding in and out, the tension building with every stroke.

Alex's breath was hot against your back as he whispered, “You're driving me crazy, you know that?”

Your response was a breathless moan, the intensity of his thrusts stealing your words. His hands moved to your hips, gripping tightly, guiding you back into his hips as he pushed deeper inside you.

“Tell me how it feels.” he demanded, his voice rough and desperate.

“It feels…amazing.” you managed to gasp out, your nails digging into the wood for support. “So deep, so good…”

He groaned in response, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more erratic. The sweat dripping from his forehead onto your back made you twitch in his hold. You could feel the tension building inside you, the pressure mounting with each thrust.

“I’m close.” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Me too.” he replied, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “So close,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort, “I can't hold back much longer.”

“Don't.” you whispered, your own voice breathless with need. “Come inside me, I want to feel you.”

Alex still wasn't entirely used to coming inside you, despite you being on the pill for a while now. He loved the feeling, though, always waiting for your permission each time. The sensation of filling you up so deep, of his cum spreading around his cock as he fucked it into you, was something he cherished every single time.

He groaned as he thrust deeply into you, the slickness of your combined arousal making each movement more intense. “Fuck.” he swore, the word barely escaping his lips as his orgasm built. You felt his cock throb inside you, a sign of his impending release.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself completely within you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he held you in place. The heat of his release filled you, spreading warmth throughout your core. He shuddered against you, his breaths ragged and heavy as he emptied himself inside you.

You gasped at the sensation, the fullness and warmth of his cum making you feel complete. His thrusts slowed but continued, each movement pushing his release deeper, mingling with your own.

“Fuck, I love this,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction, “Feeling you take all of me…”

You tightened around him in response, eliciting another groan from his lips. “I love it too.” you whispered, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

He finally stilled, his head resting against your shoulder, both of you panting and spent. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both basked in the afterglow, the heat long forgotten.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both too spent to do anything but hold each other. Finally, Alex pulled back slightly, his breath still coming in heavy pants. He pulled you back against his chest and held you tightly, heaving with each breath, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder.

“You’re incredible.” he murmured.

You smiled, leaning back against him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “So are you, Mr. Turner. So are you.”

As the sweat cooled on your skin, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. The heat was still oppressive, but it didn't seem to matter anymore.

You and Alex sat at opposite ends of the bathtub, facing each other with your legs entangled. The water was almost frigid, sending shivers down your spine. Alex noticed and teased, “Did I not get you hot enough, love?” He smiled that charming smile of his, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn’t help but smile back, taking a moment to admire him. His wet hair curled naturally, especially the little pieces by his ears, making him look endearingly boyish. His clean-shaven face accentuated his puffy lips, giving him a soft, almost innocent appearance. His eyes, always so soft and full of warmth, met yours, and you felt a wave of tenderness wash over you. He was, in fact, soft, like you’d said earlier, you thought. And maybe he knew it too, though he didn't always want to admit it.

“Come here.” he said, beckoning with his hand for you to turn around. “Let me warm you up.”

You moved toward him, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. He sank a bit lower into the water to make sure you were comfortable. You felt the immediate warmth of his body, and you sighed in contentment. “Muuuuch better.” you murmured as his fingers started to play with your hair.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both. The contrast between the cold water and the warmth of his body created a unique sensation, making you feel both relaxed and completely awake.

After a while, Alex broke the silence, his voice full of affection. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You are my dream.” He placed a long, hard kiss on the top of your head, making you feel deeply loved, with just that tiny gesture.

You nestled closer to him, feeling his heartbeat against your back, and let the tranquility of the moment wash over you. His hands continued to play with your hair, occasionally trailing down your arms in gentle, soothing strokes. You closed your eyes, feeling completely at peace in his embrace.

“I love you.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water swooshing.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice equally soft, “More than you’ll ever know.” He hugged you tighter, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin.

The bathwater slowly lost its chill, your bodies generating enough heat to make it comfortable. You stayed like that for a while, basking in the simplicity and intimacy of the moment, in the feeling of each other, of him. You loved him.

The last day of class felt unbearably tense. Your eyes were glued to Alex, unable to tear your gaze away. You didn’t even realise that you were staring at him the whole time. The months together had built up an intense connection, driving you both restless, but today was somehow worse than ever.

He noticed, stuttering when he caught your glance, or fidgeting with his jacket he insisted on wearing despite the sweltering summer heat.

When the lecture finally ended, a text buzzed in your pocket: “See me right after.” You waited until the room emptied, then approached him.

“What was that?” he demanded, frustration clear in his tone. You had no answer, only the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you. Grabbing his face, you kissed him desperately, your lips crashing into his so quickly he didn’t even have time to respond.

“Mmm…stop…we shouldn’t.” he muttered, breaking the kiss, but his resolve wavered under your gaze.

“But we could.” you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes, giving him those eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.

With a conflicted sigh, he said, “Meet me in the bathroom.” and hurriedly packed his things, shoving everything into his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

As he left, a smirk played on his lips before the door closed behind him. You waited a few moments before following, your heart racing.

Entering the men’s room, you found him leaning against one of the sinks, with that familiar grin reserved just for you. He approached you slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, then kissing you once, softly. Grabbing your hand, he led you into one of the stalls, the door clicking shut behind you.

His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, unable to get enough. Your mind raced, a mix of excitement and fear. The forbidden nature of your relationship made each touch more endearing, every kiss more intense. Alex’s hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, his need for you palpable. You melted into him, the thrill of being caught making it all the more exciting for both of you.

Slipping your hands under his jacket and up his back, you eventually pushed it off his shoulders. He caught it in his hand before it could fall to the floor, hanging it along with his bag on the hook behind him. That left him in only the tight white vest tucked in his jeans that he was wearing underneath.

His arms looked incredible, muscles taut and defined, each movement highlighting the strength beneath his skin. The vest clung to his back, damp with sweat, making the fabric semi-transparent. As your hands roamed over his body, you felt the heat of his wet skin, the sensation thrilling and intimate.

His lips were soft on yours, and you wanted to feel them forever. He tasted so good, and his tongue on yours felt electric. Alex had that way of kissing that was just perfect, leaving you breathless and craving more.

What began as an intimate yet not-so-intimate makeout session quickly turned into something that should only be done in private. And especially not here.

His leg wrapped around you, causing you to almost lose your balance if it wasn't for him holding you up, his hardness rubbing against the front of your jeans. With your lips still touching, you palmed at his jean-clothed length eagerly. His hand went to grip your neck, softly, not squeezing, just holding you in place. Your only goal was now to ensure he was satisfied.

The stall felt smaller with each passing second, the air thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation. Alex's breath was hot against your skin as he murmured your name, his voice a low, desperate whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, tracing the contours of his muscles.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, teasing the sensitive skin there before moving higher, pushing the fabric up and over your head. You helped him, lifting your arms. The cool air hit your bare skin, but the heat from his body quickly enveloped you again.

Alex's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. The sensation made you gasp, arching into his touch. He smiled against your mouth, a mixture of satisfaction and desire.

“Someone could walk in anytime.” he muttered, his lips moving to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh there. “You know that?”

You could only moan in response, your hands fumbling with the button of his trousers. You needed to feel him, the barrier of clothing becoming unbearable. He seemed to sense your urgency, helping you with the zipper and pushing them down.

The stall was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional thud as your bodies moved against the partitions. Alex's hands were everywhere. Sliding down your sides, gripping your hips, caressing your back. He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his, the contact sending a jolt of pleasure through you as your nipples brushed against the material of his top.

Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The knowledge that this strong, composed man was just as affected by you as you were by him was intoxicating.

Driven by the desire to please him, you dropped to your knees, your hands finding the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His cock sprang free from its confines, hard and eager, the tip glistening. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around it, feeling the heat and firmness in your grasp.

Alex's hands found their way to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he gently guided you closer. His intentions were clear. He wanted your mouth. But he wasn’t going to straight up ask for it. You leaned forward, taking him into past your lips, savouring the taste of his skin and the salty hint of precum. His grip tightened slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips as you began to move, your tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper.

The sensation of him filling your mouth was heady, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through him. Alex’s hips began to move in rhythm with your mouth, his breaths coming faster and more ragged. You glanced up, seeing the raw desire in his eyes, knowing that you were the one driving him to this point of ecstasy.

His hands continued to guide you, the gentle pressure urging you on as you bobbed your head, your mouth working him skillfully. The taste of him, the feel of him, the sound of his pleasure, it all combined to create an addiction, one that you never wanted to rid yourself of.

Having your lips around his cock, watching as you took him down your throat, your head bobbing quickly, making sweet sounds around his length. Ugh. You worked at him like a dog in heat. How precious. His pretty little thing. His eyes stayed on you. You were everything he wanted. And you knew it.

Your eyes stayed on him as well, you knew better than to look away. Would be blatant disrespect if you did. He loved making you remember the way his features changed as he got closer, making sure you remembered how his eyes filled with pleasure as he would come down your throat, holding the back of your head as you worked on his throbbing cock.

But then, the sound of the bathroom door creaking open shattered the bubble you were in. Someone was coming in. Alex’s eyes widened, and before panic could take hold, he quickly pulled you off his cock.

With a barely silenced growl, he lifted you slightly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You could feel the still hard length of him pressing against you, even through the denim of your jeans. The friction was delicious, and you ground against him, seeking more. His hand clamped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of your gasps. He tucked himself back into his trousers, his breaths heavy and erratic, the tension in the stall palpable.

You both remained frozen, hearts pounding in unison as you listened to the intruder's footsteps echoing off the tiles. Each second felt like an eternity, the fear of getting caught suddenly not as exciting as it became too real. You could feel Alex's heart beating wildly through the hand that still gently held your face. He glanced down at you, a mixture of frustration and arousal in his eyes, as he listened intently for any indication that you were alone again.

“You're going to be the death of me,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to catch his breath, “But what a way to go.”

You smiled, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands moved to help you redress, handing you your top and watching as you slipped it back on. He pulled his jacket over his shoulders, the fabric clinging slightly to his damp skin.

Alex exited the stall first, striding confidently past the other doors towards the sinks. There, he saw a fellow colleague washing his hands, glancing up as he approached. Their eyes met, and Alex gave a curt nod, a silent acknowledgment of the shared awkwardness. The colleague's knowing smirk indicated he was well aware of the situation, but neither said a word.

Alex washed his hands, the sound of the running water masking the rapid beating of his heart. He quickly texted you to meet him at the car, the message clear and concise. He had started parking a couple of streets down to avoid suspicion, allowing you to leave together when your schedules aligned without raising any eyebrows.

You stayed in the stall for a moment longer, adjusting your appearance and calming your racing heart. The adrenaline still surged through you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you straightened your clothes and smoothed your hair. Once you felt composed enough, you took a deep breath and stepped out, making your way to the exit as quietly and quickly as possible.

As you walked down the hallway, you couldn’t help but glance around, hyper-aware of every sound and movement. The thrill of the near miss and the thought of seeing Alex again in just a few moments made your pulse quicken. You pushed open the door to the outside, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heat of your encounter in the bathroom.

Walking briskly, you made your way to the car. You spotted Alex leaning against it, his jacket now draped over his arm. He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke curling up into the darkening sky, dissipating into the twilight. The soft glow of the cigarette illuminated his face, casting shadows that made his features appear even more chiselled. He looked so focused on nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts, the furrow in his brow suggesting the intensity of whatever was running through his mind. You could have probably guessed what that was.

He took one last drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing brighter for a moment before he tossed it to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot. The movement was almost practised, a small, unconscious ritual he performed without thinking.

As he met your gaze, his face softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He opened the car door for you, helping you in before getting in himself.

As he settled into the driver's seat, he turned to you, his hand reaching over to rest on your thigh. “You okay?” he asked, his voice slightly concerned.

You nodded, placing your hand over his. “Yeah. Just…that was close.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb stroking your skin. “Too close. But God, I can’t stay away from you.”

You leaned over, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both reassuring and needy. The car was filled with the quiet hum of the engine and the rapid thumping of your hearts. As the kiss deepened, you felt the tension from the bathroom start to dissolve.

Finally, being the one to break the kiss, Alex started reversing out of his spot. Well, not really his spot technically, but he kind of claimed it as his, parking there almost every time he drove to work.

You watched him, mesmerised by the sight of him reversing the car. His arm was draped casually across the back of your seat, the movement causing the muscles in his arm to flex subtly. The streetlights streaming through the windows highlighted his sharp jawline from all different angles, casting shadows that made his features even more striking.

“You’re so fucking hot.” you said mindlessly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Oh, I know, love.” he replied, smirking as he started driving toward his apartment. He wasn’t full of himself. It wasn’t how that was supposed to sound, you knew that. He’d told you that you helped bring out a less insecure part of him, and you loved that.

“You’re still in trouble though, can’t have that with no consequences.” he joked.

You hit him softly over his thigh, making him jump subconsciously. The sudden movement brought his bothersome erection back to the forefront of his mind, causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a position that didn’t put so much pressure on it. You noticed and started rubbing his thigh, trying to ease his discomfort, but likely doing just the opposite.

As the car moved through the city streets, the atmosphere between you was thick with unresolved tension. The sensation of your hand on his thigh, combined with the rhythmic motion of the car, heightened his every feeling. Every touch, every brush of your fingers, seemed to amplify the heat burning inside of him.

Alex's breathing grew heavier, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his focus on the road, his need for you evident in the way his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, filled with want and frustration.

The drive felt both endless and too short, the anticipation of what was to come making every second feel like an eternity. You didn’t even know what he meant by ‘consequences’. As you approached his apartment, the tension within the vehicle almost reached a boiling point, what might await you behind closed doors hanging heavily in the air.

In his apartment, Alex hadn't said a word since entering. He slipped off his boots and headed straight to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. You followed him, and he patted the spot next to him for you to sit. As soon as you sat down, he grabbed you and bent you over his knees, making you gasp at the sudden move.

His hands spread over your ass, grabbing at your flesh a couple of times before undoing your jeans and pushing them down your thighs, leaving you unable to move your legs apart. You looked back at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move. He bent down to kiss you as his hand came down across your cheeks for the first time, your yelp getting lost in his mouth.

His touch alternated between rough and tender, his hands exploring your skin as his lips met yours again and again. The sensation of his hand striking your flesh mixed with the softness of his kisses, the blend of pleasure and sharp pain, was intoxicating.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension in his body evident as he continued to spank you. His hand came down again and again, the sharp sting followed by the soothing caress of his fingers. The sound of each slap echoed in the room, mingling with your muffled gasps and his ragged breathing.

Each strike seemed to bring you closer to a breaking point, the intensity of the moment building with every touch. His other hand held you firmly in place, ensuring you couldn't move away from his lap. The vulnerability and trust between you deepened with every second passing.

Between spanks, he would pause to tease you over your underwear, his fingers brushing lightly over your clothed cunt. Each touch sent shivers through your body, amplifying your need for him. He knew exactly how to keep you on edge, providing just enough stimulation to drive you wild, but never enough to satisfy. The fabric of your underwear felt damp against your skin, a proof to your growing arousal. You were enjoying this.

Alex's teasing fingers moved with agonising slowness, tracing the outline of your lips through the fabric, barely dipping into your folds. Each featherlight touch was a tantalising hint of the pleasure that awaited you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more contact, more pressure, but he held you firmly in place, denying you the release you craved.

“You feel that, right?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “That's how I felt the whole drive here. Desperate. Needing more. But I couldn't do anything about it. Now it's your turn.”

His words sent a thrill through you, the knowledge that he was controlling your pleasure as skillfully as he did your body only heightening your arousal. You could feel his breath against your ear, hot and uneven.

Alex's fingers continued their maddeningly slow exploration, brushing over your sensitive clit, making your breath hitch. Each touch was maddening, it felt so good, but it was never enough to push you over the edge. He was drawing out your torment, making you feel every second of your need.

“Tell me…” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want it…so bad.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Alex, I need you.”

A satisfied hum rumbled in his chest. “Mhm…Just a little longer. I want to see you desperate. I want to see you beg.” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

His words sent another wave of arousal through you, and you felt your body responding, your hips rocking against his hand. The friction of your underwear against your sensitive skin was exquisite torture.

Eventually, he stopped teasing, his hand moving away from your aching core. You whimpered at the loss, but he shushed you gently, his other hand stroking your back soothingly.

“Patience, love.” he murmured. “You know I always give you what you need, just let me play this time.”

With that, he resumed spanking you, each strike harder than the last, the sharp sting a stark contrast to the gentle teasing. Your yelps were muffled, your body trembling with the mix of pain and pleasure. It was getting almost too much to take, but you trusted him completely, knowing he would take care of you.

Finally, he paused, his hand resting on your reddened skin. He bent down to kiss you again, his lips lingering on yours as he whispered, “Was that too much?” the raw emotion and worry in his voice made you melt in his arms, and you shook your head ‘no’, unable to find the words to respond.

Alex helped you sit up, pulling off your jeans all the way, his hands gentle now as he pulled you close. The intensity of the moment lingered, the air between you charged. He guided your hand to his excruciating erection over the tight material of his jeans. You struggled to undo his belt, so he helped you, slipping it off lazily as you worked on the button and zipper.

You pulled his vest out of his pants and he held it up out of the way as you freed his cock from his boxers, stroking it a couple of times. His eyes rolled back at the feeling. He nudged you down, and you dropped to your knees on the floor in front of him. He brushed your cheek with his hand lovingly, petting your hair and making it sit all pretty again.

Having you in front of him stirred something deep inside Alex. All the emotions still took a toll on him sometimes, and now was one of those moments. Did he go too far? Did he even enjoy it, or was it just something he did for no reason? But that didn’t even matter anymore. He needed you. So bad. He guided you to his cock, letting you take him in your mouth and setting the rhythm himself.

You didn’t mind his control, you wanted to make him feel the best. You tried to take him deeper and faster, but you accidentally nicked him with your teeth, making his grip in your hair tighten.

“That’s it, darling…” he muttered. “That’s it…do it again.”

Hearing that, you decided to scrape your teeth along his cock and see how he liked that. His hand fell from your head, and he leaned back on his arms, gripping the sheets instead.

“Uhhh, fuck- fuck, yeah. Again. I like the pain...” he said, his voice filled with raw need.

You obeyed, your teeth grazing his sensitive flesh as you moved. Each scrape elicited a shudder from him, his hips bucking involuntarily. His grip on the sheets tightened, knuckles turning white. The mixture of pleasure and pain was driving him wild too, and you could see it in the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched, and his muscles tensed.

“You’re so good at this.” he breathed, his voice low and strained. His free hand tangled in your hair, not guiding you this time, but simply holding on as if grounding himself in the overwhelming sensation.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. His eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping his lips. The praise, the raw desire in his voice, spurred you on, pushing you to take him even further.

Alex’s hips began to move in rhythm with your mouth, shallow thrusts that drove him deeper into your throat. You could feel him throbbing, the tension coiling in his muscles as he neared his release. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one laced with the sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” he groaned, his grip in your hair tightening as he held you in place. “Don’t stop…please, don’t stop.”

You had no intention of stopping, not when he was this close, not when you could feel his pleasure building, the climax just within reach. You wanted to be the one to push him over the edge. The only one to cause him so much pleasure that his mind shut down.

He came unexpectedly in between desperate thrusts, hot and pulsing in your mouth. You swallowed around him, taking everything he had to give, feeling his body shudder with the force of his orgasm. His moans filled the room, a melody of satisfaction that echoed in your ears.

As his glow subsided, he slumped back, pulling you up onto the bed beside him. He looked at you with his soft eyes that you still couldn’t believe were real.

“I’m not done with you yet.” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. He pulled you into his arms, turning you over so you were on your back under him.

He pushed your top up, exposing your breasts but not bothering to take it off. He just wanted to touch and see and feel them as he wished. Grabbing both your legs together, he bent them up, urging you to hold them in place. His hips began to thrust, his cock brushing over your underwear as he got rock hard again. The friction was exquisite, and you swore you couldn’t take it much longer, but he shushed you gently.

He pushed your panties to the side and rubbed his length over your wet pussy, wedging it between your folds. Each thrust brushed against your clit, eliciting countless soft moans from you. Occasionally, he would slap your clit with his cock, making your whole body twitch with the sensation. He went so far as to wrap the flimsy material of your panties around his hard length and thrusting into them, teasing you to no end. Seeing him and feeling him so close but not actually inside you was infuriating.

Your legs eventually grew tired in that position, and you were almost tired of his teasing as well. You rested them on his tummy, still keeping them up as he wanted. He liked that. He really liked that. He held them in place with one hand, massaging up your legs in time with his movements.

His fingers brushed over your clit, circling it with the same rhythm he had set with his thrusts. Your body arched into his touch, your breath hitching as the pleasure mounted. He leaned down, bending your body almost to a breaking point, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue in your mouth mimicking the movements of his fingers on your pussy.

“You're so beautiful like this,” he murmured against your lips, “I could watch you all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, your hips bucking against his hand. The teasing was driving you wild, the need for release becoming unbearable. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, every nerve ending on fire.

“Please, Alex.” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. “I need you, please.”

He smiled, his eyes dark with desire. His fingers continued their teasing dance, bringing you to the brink only to pull back just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. It was sweet torture.

Finally, when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, he pushed his cock into you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and relief. You cried out, your hands clutching at the sheets as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust sending you higher and higher.

He watched you in awe and satisfaction, his eyes never leaving your face. The connection between you was electric. You were his, and he was yours, in that perfect moment of your bodies connecting, both physically and emotionally.

As he moved inside you, his pace quickened, the urgency building once more. The room was filled with the sounds of him sliding in and out, the wet slap of skin on skin, the gasps and moans of pleasure. It was raw, it was primal, and it was everything you needed.

Your orgasm came crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. Your body convulsed around him, your cries of ecstasy mingling with his as he felt you tightening around him. With a gentle but firm motion, he pulled out, only to flip you around.

“You’re doing so good.” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine encouragement. He positioned you on your knees, and you struggled to hold yourself up on your arms, but you wanted to be able to see him.

You watched him as he wiped the sweat off his face with his arm before giving you a quick slap on your ass, the sting from earlier resurfacing. He continued teasing you, or more so teasing himself, rubbing his cock right at your entrance but not quite pushing in. His hand planted on the small of your back, guiding you back towards him but not pushing in, only the head occasionally slipping past your lips in the wet mess pooling there.

And he loved it. The sound of his continuous moaning, intertwined with your weak whimpers, let you know just how much he loved it. Finally, he pulled you by the hips, pushing in all the way, feeling even deeper in this position. He started so gently, his hand on your back keeping you grounded while the other rested back on his hip. He kept that pace for a while, but the need for release took over.

He quickly pulled his top over his head, the need for skin to skin contact overpowering him, and he slid his jeans lower, pushing his boxers down with them.

He moved with an intensity that matched his desire, each thrust more powerful than the last. His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to grip your shoulder for leverage, the other moving down to tease your clit. The combination of sensations was so overpowering, your body trembling with pleasure and overstimulation. He whispered words of encouragement and praise, his voice hoarse with need.

As his thrusts grew more frantic, the room filled with the sounds of your shared moans. His breathing became ragged, his movements more desperate as he chased his own release. You felt him tense, his grip on you tightening as he finally came again, spilling into you with a shuddering groan. The intensity of his orgasm triggered your own, your body pulsing around him as you cried out.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. The sounds of your heavy breathing seemed so loud in the room. He held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as you both basked in the afterglow.

He looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “Was I too rough?” he asked softly, the question hanging in the air. You could see the beginnings of doubt starting to cloud his features, and you knew he was already overthinking it. He often did that, and he only recently started to realise that it would be better to just ask than to torture himself with doubts and fears. He didn’t need to do that. Not with you.

You shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile. “I loved it,” you said sincerely, “But you don’t have to be like that all the time if you don’t want to. Just be yourself, whatever that might be.”

He sighed, relief mingling with lingering uncertainty. “I did like it,” he admitted, “but I felt a bit...out of character. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You shook your head again, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t hurt me. You were amazing. It’s interesting to see different sides of yours.” you assured him, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

He nodded, his fingers continuing their gentle caress on your skin. “I just want to make sure I’m giving you what you need.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And you are.” you replied firmly. “Always.”

He smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulled you closer. The rawness of the moment softened into something tender.

a/n: this one’s supposed to be set a good few months into them being together so he’s comfortable with himself and everything bla bla bla my friend said that first scene is the best thing i wrote so i really like it now🥺 also, i uploaded this whole fic to wattpad as well in case anyone prefers reading there, my user is the same as here. oh and, the title is from ‘Music To Watch Boys To’ by Lana, they’re always from songs so i thought i’d mention it :)

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones

[ghoulishneeds]

𖥔✦Double Feature ✦𖥔

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△

✧𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Cooper Howard x F!Reader

✧𝒞𝒲: dubcon, violence ig, uh blood, piv, skullfucking, restraints, knife (briefly), choking, hair pulling

✧𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: You’ve been picked up by Cooper and he intends to sell you for a bounty. (Plot if you squint)

✧𝒲𝒞: 2.6k+

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Ask: can you do something for cooper being rough

((Oh boy can I.))

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼ △▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

——————————————————————

You squint against the sun, raising a hand to shield your eyes from it. Pain thrumming in your right shoulder. Your eyes adjust in time to catch the brown leather of his boot before it collides with your jaw.

——————————————————————

You’d been running your mouth all day.

Every time he’d fuckin moved, you’d had something to say about it. You weren’t sure if it was the constant, close proximity to each other, the unforgiving heat, or the knowledge he was about to sell you for a bounty, but everything was getting under your skin. You hated the desert. Hated him. You hated his cocky, fuck-em all attitude. Hated that the way he looked at you set your fucking blood on fire.

He’d barely spoken the entire journey, yet any time he did, you couldn’t swallow back some shitty little retort you’d had ready.

Up till this point, you’d maintained some level of feigned compliance. To a point, a part of you liked pissing him off. But, you knew who he was. The Ghoul. A fucking legend in the Wasteland. A killer.

But today you had felt braver. Or maybe the heat had just baked off the rest of your common sense.

He’d already told you to shut up once. And you had, for a small while. But his pace was slowing down, and the wheezing cough, signifying it was time for his next Rad-away dose, echoed back off the crumbling building along the roadway.

You had watched him fumble through his bag and had found it almost amusing. The most dangerous man in the Wasteland was one missed dose away from falling apart. It was ironically humanizing.

You watched him desperately consume the Rad-away and he stood straight again. You made it all of five steps before you found yourself laughing. When it echoed back to you it sounded hollow and mean in your own ears.

He’d stopped so suddenly you collided with him. Bracing your hands against his back for stability.

Your heart rate jumped. You could quite literally feel the mistake settling over you. When you looked up at him, he was glaring at you over his shoulder, eyes whiskey brown in the sun.

You hesitated before the step back, pulling your hands away from him. “I-“

Cooper turned to face you. The tension in the air was making it hard for you to breathe. You took another step back.

“Darlin’ I’ve told you once to shut your fuckin mouth haven’t I?” His voice was low and honeyed. Your pulse jumped again. He stepped in closer, eyes burning into yours. Your mouth was impossibly dry, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He looked at you expectantly. Was he waiting for a response? “…yes” You dropped your eyes.

“And here you are, still runnin that fuckin mouth.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head in exaggerated disappointment.

He’d hit you fast and hard, knocking you off your feet, your shoulder collided with the ground painfully.

——————————————————————

Your head is reeling after the kick, you struggle to focus your eyes again. He’s crouching over you, hands resting on his knees. He watches you with this intense, heated look while you push yourself up onto your elbows. As you try to catch your breath, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, making the air around you almost unbearable. You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest, and suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. You were lucky he hadn't killed you yet.

"I don't like repeatin myself sweetheart." He says it almost sweetly. "If you can't keep that pretty mouth shut, how bout I keep it busy."

You swallow hard, feeling the words settle around you. His gaze is intense, like a branding iron searing into you. You know you have to say something, but your mind goes blank. “I-“

You know what he's implying, you're not stupid. The tension between the two of you had been building for too long, and this had been the boiling point.

Your eyes follow him as he stands up. He grabs you by the elbow and half drags you up into a kneeling position. When you try to fully stand, he presses his hand into your sore shoulder and pushes you back down. You look up at him, shame rolling over you. Your cunt is throbbing in time with your aching head now. He smirks down at you, unhitching the lasso from his hip. You watch as he loops it around his hand, the leather of his glove creaking slightly as he tightens it.

He steps in behind you, roughly pulling your arms behind your back. He pulls your wrists tight together, putting strain on your shoulders, and loops the rope around them. The rough rope burns against your tender skin, but you can't help the wave of arousal that rolls through you.

You feel him step back, releasing the pressure on your wrists. You try to pull your arms free, but they're tied tightly together. You can feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin. You turn your head slightly, looking over your shoulder at him.

He staring down at you, a hungry predatory look in his eyes. You swallow hard. A different kind of heat settling in your core. He steps back around, in front of you. "You ain't got anything to say now honey?" He asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. You meet his eyes indignantly.

Your heart is racing as you spit at him. Panic and arousal mixing into something primal in your blood.

He laughs, not bothering to wipe the spit away. Grabbing your face tight enough to make your jaw ache, he pulls you towards his crotch, his other hand fisting in the hair above your neck. "Can't tell if you're brave or stupid." He holds your gaze for a moment. “But I'd lay money on stupid."

He lets go of your face and undoes his belt, briefly fumbling one-handedly with the buckle. He audibly groans when his cock springs free. He's already hard, shiny pre-cum smearing the tip. Saliva floods your mouth and you look up at him again.

His expression is almost unreadable, aside from the fire in his eyes. He moves his free hand to his hip and unsheathes a jagged hunting knife. Your pulse quickens to a panicked rate, breath coming in sharp pants. “See this here sugar, is a serrated blade.” His voice is low and rough. “It doesn’t just slice,” he presses the blade against your cheek “it tears.”

Hot panic almost makes you drool as you watch him resheath it. “I’m tellin you once, don’t you go thinkin about biting.”

Your eyes meet his again. “Yes sir.” You don’t recognize your own voice, strained and rough. He smirks, clearly pleased with your submission. “Atta girl.”

Cooper’s hand tightens in your hair again, maneuvering you closer to his cock.

“Don't make me tell you what to do darlin’." His voice is a low growl above you. You swallow once and open your mouth obediently.

His fingers sift through your hair, guiding your mouth closer to his cock. As you lower your head, his tip grazes against your lips. You steal a glance at him, he's watching you with a heated gaze. You lean forward, feeling the hot, heavy head of his cock pressing against your tongue. Your eyes widen as you taste the pre-cum on his tip. You slowly start to take him into your mouth, your tongue sliding over the shaft. Coop watches you intently, his eyes darkening as you take him deeper into your mouth. You can feel his fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on. You wrap your lips around him, sucking lightly as you begin to bob your head.

He's been as patient as he's capable of being. He places his free hand alongside the other, on the back of your head. Stepping in closer, he pushes himself further down your throat. You gag, pulling against your bindings. His head drops back and he groans. You try to relax, willing yourself to take more of him. He grips your head and withdraws his cock slowly, before sliding it back down your throat. He quickly sets a rhythm, fucking himself down your throat.

As he continues to thrust his hips, his cock slides in and out of your mouth. You try to keep up with the pace, gagging occasionally but unable to pull away. You can feel the saliva dripping from your chin, mixing with his pre-cum. You can tell he’s close. His thrusts are sharper, shallower. You try to swallow around him and the constriction makes him groan. You can’t ignore the throbbing between your legs.

Your hips keen forward, against nothing while he buries himself in your throat. You feel him tense up as he nears his climax. His grip in your hair tightens, and he growls low in his throat. He pulls you forward, pushing himself as far as he can down your throat. He's so far down your throat, you don't taste it when he cums.

He hesitates for a moment before he withdraws his cock and you cough as he takes a step back, throat feeling raw and used.

He lets out a low whistle. "That mouth is good for somethin after all huh." He's smiling. You're panting and staring up at him. The taste of him lingers in your mouth, making you feel uncomfortably aroused. You glance away, trying to find some semblance of control. Cooper chuckles, a dark sound that makes your pussy ache. Your hips push forward again, almost subconsciously. The motion doesn't go unnoticed.

He smirks and tuts "My my, I must say I almost think you're due some kinda reward for that darlin." He leans forward smiling again, and presses the toe of his boot against your crotch.

You whine, a high pitched, pathetic sound. He chuckles again. "Oh I like that sound a whole lot better."

You feel a wave of shame wash over you, but you can't help the response to his touch. He leans down, his lips close to your ear.

"You know what? I think I'll make it a double feature for you today."

He licks a long stripe from your collarbone to just below your jaw. He bites you, hard. You aren't expecting it and the pain is shocking. But fuck it feels kind of good? You gasp, grinding yourself against his boot. He runs his tongue over the now broken skin and growls. It's a low animalistic noise that brings on a new wave of need.

He abruptly stands, grabbing ahold of your bound wrists and roughly turning you away from him. He briefly pulls you back to him, rutting his cock against you. His breath is hot against your ear. "Gunna be good for me?" His voice is rough against your ear and your back arches. He slides his hand around your throat, establishing a good grip. "Hm?" It was almost a purr. After several laborious breaths you whimper out a "Yes sir."

He smirks, pleased with your response. "Good girl." He shoves you down, pressing your face against the sand. He hooks an arm under your stomach, heaving you onto your knees. After a moment he, albeit somewhat awkwardly, gets your pants off.

You almost sigh as the cooler air hits your burning core. "Whew. Look. At. That." He punctuates each word with a smack to your wet pussy. You're not sure when he took his gloves off but the rough texture of his hand swatting your cunt makes you gasp and jerk away from him. He laughs and drags you back towards him by your wrists.

He slides a finger through your wet folds and exhales roughly. You’re embarrassingly wet. Slick gathering at your entrance and threatening to run down your thigh. “Downright sloppy.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and your face burns with embarrassment.

Teasing your clit briefly, before pushing two fingers into you. He exhales between his teeth, almost a hiss. The ghoul withdraws his fingers and quickly lines himself up at your entrance. He slides himself through your folds, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit before he thrusts himself into you.

He wastes no time in setting a brutal pace, allowing you no time to adjust to the size of him. A strained whine escapes you, your hands twitching in the grip he has on your wrists. His hand cracks down on your ass cheek, you bite back a whine.

You feel his hand squeeze your ass, and he leans down, pressing his weight over you. "That's it, darlin. Take it. Take what I got for you." His voice is like honey, coating your senses and making you feel weak in the knees. You hold back the moan threatening to peel its way out of you at his words.

He’s getting frustrated with your borderline silence. “Now sweetheart, you were so ready to run your mouth earlier.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back against him.

“Let me hear somethin.” You gasp as he pulls you back, the sting in your scalp making your eyes water. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, but the words won't come. He growls low in his throat, a mix of frustration and desire. He continues to thrust into you, his hips slamming against you in a brutal rhythm.

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your scalp and the burn of his thrusts. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, pushing your head to the side so he can bite down on your neck.

The noise you make is something between a moan and a scream. His thrusts slow into a grinding roll that makes your eyes roll back. He moves to the other side of your neck and repeats the action and elicits a similar sound. "Mm that's my girl." Your back arches at his words.

He pulls back and picks his pace back up. His thrusts are becoming jerky and faster. Cooper leans over you, snaking an arm around you. His fingers find your clit and he slips his fingers over it in fast circles. You moan and try to push yourself back against him. You feel him slam into you, his hips driving against you in quick, hard thrusts. The feeling of his rough hands on your body mixed with the brutal pounding is overwhelming. You gasp for air, trying to ignore the sting of his bites as they mix with the ache in your body.

.

Your eyes roll back as the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming. You're close. His fingers pick up pace on your clit and he dotes a few particularly hard thrusts on you.

Heat floods your mind as your orgasm hits you, walls spasming around his cock. "Ha, fuck, that's it darlin'."

His pace stutters, his thrusts becoming sporadic and almost frantic.

"Fuck, gunna-" is the only warning you get before he cums, pulling you back against him hard.You feel the hot rush of him filling you up and groan.

His weight presses down on you, his breathing ragged as he tries to catch his breath. Struggling to catch your own, you note that you're still tied up. Cooper leans back, still almost panting, and pulls the knife out again. He cuts the rope loose and stands up.

As you lie there, taking in deep breaths, trying to recover from all of that, Cooper sheaths his knife and gives you a smug, satisified look.

You eventually get to your feet and redress yourself.

"Better get some rest darlin, we've got quite a bit of ground to cover tomorrow."

You look at him questioningly.

He smirks, a look of dark amusement settling in his eyes. "What? You didn't think you was off the hook for bein a good fuck?" He laughs, it sounds similar to your own, earlier laugh.

"Man's gotta make a livin sweetheart."

The sinking realization that you’re still being sold for a bounty hits you.

Maybe you’ll be able to get your way out of it.

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ seeking the light ⦒ ✧.*

NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER SYNOPSIS: Nanami receives his final wish before passing, with you by his side in Kuantan, Malaysia. CONTENT: character death. SMUT MDNI. S2E18. hurt/comfort, unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), body worship (lots), missionary, slow sex, light choking, pet names (darling). briefly mentions haibara, gojo. A/N: nanami girlies, hope you guys are recovering (i am still struggling rn)... sending you all hugs and a care package. « 3.3 k words | masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »

A body moves on its own accord in its nature to protect. For Nanami, it comes with a cost this time. Even now, at his final breath, even when his numbed, scorched body pleads otherwise, fractured beyond repairable, Nanami chooses someone else’s life over his. There isn’t a doubt about this choice in his mind. All this fighting, all this suffering, this sacrifice—it was for someone worthwhile. For a generation with bright futures ahead of them, not meant for battles like these.

Nanami doesn’t see his act as a virtuous gesture. After all, this is his job, and protecting children is his duty. Perhaps part of him thinks he a coward to stand compliantly and let Mahito end his life, taking the easy way out.

His only regret—not being able to say goodbye to you. Even when all that remains is a silver of consciousness, you are his last memory. He thinks about how you are praying and waiting for his safe return at home, hating himself for not being able to give you the simplest things in life.

“Nanamin…”

In his hazy mist, he hears Itadori’s voice. Lost of vigor, echoing through the isolated platform of Shibuya station with the two of them burrowed deep in this mess. Poor child, he’s about to cry. That’s not a good look on a young man like him.

“Itadori-kun… You’ve got it from here.”

His eyelids are forced to close as the pain becomes unbearable, embracing the cold blackness behind his eyes.

But in that darkness, Nanami isn’t alone.

Rays of light catches up to him, scorching the path ahead of him: burning, igniting, freeing. It illuminates a straight road that leads him into the end of darkness. Nanami had never seen this road in his life, but when he did just now, for some reason, an overwhelming urge makes him walk down this path.

As he tries to walk, something behind his ear cries out his name, asking him to close his eyes once more. Something in him obliges to do so.

.

..

…

“Kento?” Someone calls out.

There are sounds of children giggling away, adults conversing casually in another language accompanied by tunes from local street performances. And most prominently, Nanami hears the waves, rhythmically resonates when it crashes against the shore. He blinks open his eyes.

Light sharply enters his sight, wincing, shielding his face with a risen hand. A shadowed figure stands in front of his sight, slowly becoming apparent as his eyes adjust to the light.

And it’s you, clutching a smile on your face. Your hair catches sun streaks in beachy strands, cheeks sparkle with sand speckles that illuminates your face in some kind of holy light. The clouds, voices and shore freeze when you giggle in your own little world.

“Darling...?” He speaks hollowly as if this is just a memory, fearing that it is, that means it’s all over for real. “Where—am I?”

The world moves again, sounds beginning to rise up into murmured chatter, and his gaze raises in line with the horizon where the sky meets the sea, looking into the deep blue beyond.

“By the beach, sleepyhead. The book’s no good?” You giggle once more, but this time the world doesn’t stop with you.

Nanami has a finger prop up a page in an opened book. He finds himself wearing a tropical button up and pants sitting on an inflatable chair with sand between his toes. “I guess not.”

He doesn’t remember when he got here or how he got here. But Nanami knows exactly where this place is. A famous beach in the east coast of Kuantan, Malaysia—Teluk Cempedak. He saw this view on a magazine once and told himself he would travel here on his day off. That was two years ago. So this is what it looks like in person?

“Did I sleep for long?” He asks.

“Long enough for me to get the both of us something to eat.” You say as you pass an ice cream cone to him. He turns to grab it, and when he does, Nanami’s neck snaps to the seat next to him. A monkey sits comfortably by his side with its grin stretched wide, surprising him so much he drops the ice cream onto the hot sand.

Nanami hears a few tiny click of shutters as both the monkey and you giggle in unison. The camera lens point directly at him.

“You got me. Very funny now.” Nanami sighs, but behind that irritated frown, there is a smile that he reserves only in your presence.

On cue, the monkey reaches over you as you try to enjoy your ice cream, snatches it off your hands, and escapes across the beach.

The two of you stand in shock for a moment, staring at each other, before bursting into quiet smirks and giggles. When the laughter subsides, Nanami brings you close, landing a kiss on your soft lips. He sees his own reflection in the glaze of your eyes, and he realises he haven’t seen himself so carefree in a long time, especially not since he went to Shibuya.

“So, does that mean you won’t make me delete the photos?”

“Since I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you keep it this time.” He says, then corrects himself as you light up. “As long as Gojo doesn’t get his hands on it.”

“What’s he going to do with a picture or two?” You play with your phone, nervously fumbling the screen.

“Knowing that guy, blackmail. Probably.”

“Well… please don’t get mad at me.”

That is when something dings in his pocket consecutively. He reaches for his phone, and he sees the name Gojo Satoru on his screen, spamming rows of laughing emojis.

“I’m sorry! Gojo already saved it. I can’t unsend it anymore.” You whisper, retreating with your head hang low.

Nanami sighs again, but this time with forgiveness. It doesn’t matter to Nanami anyway. Small things doesn’t matter when he’s with you. He kisses your lips to reassure you. “That’s okay. You’re okay. I’m not really upset.”

And it is at this moment, you can hear a roar of music in the background. Some local nostalgic tune, even if he had never heard this song before. Nanami’s feet taps to the beat of rhythm, and an idea surfaces in his head.

“My lady.” He stands to lean his torso into you, mesmerizingly gentleman. “May I have this dance?”

You hesitate at first, an onslaught of eyes staring at his bold gesture in the middle of a fairly crowded beach. Nanami looks up at you, his drooping eyelids and focused gaze only makes him ever the more persuasive. His charms can’t be denied. Reluctantly, you reach for his hand.

Nanami immediately pulls you in to a dance. Jiving through the sand forming love trails with your bare feet, letting the humid wind sweep and sway through the air. He spins you with a raised hand, and when you do, you notice the many pair of eyes on you, momentarily embarrassed.

“They’re watching, Kento…” You whisper.

“Let them watch.” He whispers back into your ear.

It starts with lively children weaving through the crowd to find the lone couple dancing. They punch their fists clumsily in the air, people cheering and awwing, and suddenly, more people joins, forming a circle. Dancing without any concern of the world. A conga line forms, and the crowd livens in cheers and chants when the two of you leaves the dance circle.

“Look what you’ve done.” You say.

“You know I am only charming when I’m not at work.”

He picks up his phone, finding almost ten texts from Gojo with his face Photoshopped in different memes. You laugh at some of them, even though Nanami seem annoyed. He powers down his phone before you get to see more, in case it gives you any ideas.  

“That’s it. No more work texts on vacation. This trip is about us, and I’ll make sure you have a great time.”

And so he did. He took you to the best curry mee in town, and you had a sip of your teh tarik while overlooking onto the tide. He teases you with a tired loving smile over how you gawk at your food as you eat the kampung delicacies. Something you two would never have eaten in Japan, or Denmark, when he brings you home to meet his grandfather—and shows you that he intends to marry you.

But that’s not just all of his plans. Kuantan has much bigger delights than just the countryside; you took a taxi to all these places that Nanami briefly saw in a magazine. He tries painting batiks (and finds out it’s harder than it looks), walking and admiring local vendors, shop displays until it’s time for dinner again and you had the loveliest Nyonya style seafood that fuses between two cultures.

As the sun sets, there is one final spot Nanami wants to take you. You see the big Kuantan sign as you take a high speed elevator all the way to the top of the Skydeck. And it’s just you and him alone in the breeze of the night, watching streets light up with traffic, illuminating into the same horizon as before.

“Thank you for making my last day memorable.” He speaks into the deep dark sky, not a moon or star in sight.

And at that moment, you know he realises that none of this is real. That his body—or whatever’s left of it—is still back at Shibuya. But for whatever reason, even when he knows he’s already dead, Nanami is smiling. His blond hair reminds you of the moon hanging high in the sky, shining brighter than any spark of light on the streets.

“Mm-hm.” You reply, no other words needed.

Nanami’s arms come around your waist, pulling you close to him, until your bodies connect as one. He leans his head on top of yours, and breathes in your scent, your bashful reciprocation, and all of you that he will most definitely miss.

“Hey.” Nanami says, barely louder than a cricket. “I have one last request.”

“Yeah?”

“I want to taste you one last time.”

The two of you scramble through the linoleum flooring, giggling through the hotel lobby as you share private jokes between each other without a care for the world. Passerbys wonder: ‘I wonder if they’re on a honeymoon’. And it doesn’t matter if it’s the beginning or many nights, or the end of them, your love for each other remains just as passionate.

When Nanami touches the key pass against his door, you try to push him in while he’s distracted, but he smirks at your boldness, but ultimately he turns you around to kiss you instead. He likes how you try even if it always ends with him turning the tables on you, kissing you while his whole body pins you against the hard wall.

He kisses you with the same fervour as he did the first night you spent together in the bedroom, and even after many years together, that doesn’t change.

Nanami helps you out of your clothes, one article at a time, savouring the look of you with each piece undressed, until you lay stark naked in front of him. He removes his glasses to place them against a bedside table, then he gets to work.

Guiding you to plop your hips onto the edge of the bed, Nanami positions himself on his knees to face you. He nudges your legs to open first, and he can’t help but fall in love again with how beautiful you look down there. His instinct is to put your bud in his mouth, and a cold rush of shiver frights you on your lower body. Your fingers curl slightly in reaction to his forwardness.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Nanami smirks, kissing on your clit a few more times before his tongue peeks out, tasting at your delicate bud. He does that for a few minutes, varying the intensity and speed to edge you until it fizzes your lower body. Occasionally, if he thinks you sound cute, he’ll impress you by pressing down his tongue on your clit that makes your fingers curl and uncurl over and over. “You like this?” Nanami asks innocently.

Oh, he knows that you do. But of course, Nanami likes hearing you confess his charms from your own mouth.

“Kento…” You lower your voice. “I love everything you do. That goes without saying.”  

He hums, satisfied by your obedience.

“Now do th-that thing you always d-do, please…”

“As you wish, darling.”

Nanami loves to satisfy you, loves to obey you and make him yours. He takes your bud in his mouth, his tongue inside, circling along your clit while his middle finger dips in your wet coated slit. Long finger curls to meet your g-spot with ease, moving only his last knuckle on his hand so he can repeatedly rap at your sensitive spot until your whole body feels drowned in your own pleasure.

“Oh god…”

His tongue darts out in quick succession, letting the needy bud smack against the tip of his tongue until it grows swollen and sensitive to the touch. Nanami wonders if you are enjoying yourself until he hears a weak noise, back arching, cunt pulsing as the pleasure lightly tips you off the edge like a gentle ripple.

“H-Hey, that’s enough.” You say through huffed breaths.

“Five more minutes.” Nanami says, his breath just as uneasy.

You hesitate. “One.”

“Fine by me.”

Every passing of his tongue on you can’t seem to satiate him, he laps at your taste over and over again. Until foams of saliva bubble over your wet clit and you are soaking under his finger. His chin coats wet with you, with how delicious you are, but he doesn’t mind one bit of the mess. Taking his time is his priority.

“Nnh.” Just like he promised, almost sixty seconds later, he parts himself away through a throaty huff, withdrawing himself to lick his lips clean and wiping streaks of drool from his face with the back of his wrist.

Nanami moves in quickly for another kiss on your lips, and you respond with equal enthusiasm. He shuffles you backwards to accommodate him to enter the bed, lips bound together through the awkward motions. Naturally, you prop your legs on top of his thighs, and you feel his length taking advantage of you without obstructions, closing the distance until his tip meets you at your entrance.

He guides your torso flat against the bed through the firm pad of his palm, pressing them up form your pelvis all the way to your belly, your chest, your collarbone…

He stops moving. “How hard do you want it this time?”

“Hard.”

“As you wish, my darling.”

His left hand continues upwards to find your neck, curling around the circumference of your neck. Some pressure is applied, and you roll your eyes back. Gentle at first, until you’re comfortable with his hand, he settles his tip inside of you. Quiet grunts leave his body as he puts you in missionary, overcome by the need to probe at you further until he feels all of himself buried.

But he restrains, for your sake. Nanami knows, with his size, bottoming out in one go only hurts you more. So he takes his time when he does so, easing himself in and fucks you with the intent to make eternal love, letting him continue this dreamlike state that will soon come to an end.

“You’re gorgeous…” He grunts, simply gazing at you, into your heart and into your soul. You do the same, admiring all his worn-out features relax like creased fabric undoing in the presence of you.

Nanami blinks away a watery glimmer between the speckles of his eyes, hoping you didn’t see it even though you did, and moves again.

Throughout the whole time, he only wants to stare at you, think of you through the burning sensation in his body that continues to remind him his time is almost up. But that doesn’t deter him, in fact, it only makes him want to take as long as the both of you need with no urge to climax hastily.

Each part of this is an experience, one final pleasure before the curse of reality hits them. You, in front of him, probably isn’t real. But it feels so real. It feels like Nanami has been granted his final wish. You, and this lovely scenery.

Soft, sensual pulses throb below you in a flowing state, crashing like the low tide on the evening beach, just like the view outside your fancy hotel window. Until the orgasm comes, in due time, through the labour of his efforts. How Nanami comes down to kiss you in gratitude as come spills inside of you, and the both of you grin into the kiss.

As you snuggle under the sheets next to Nanami, he brings his arm around your belly, grazing, pressing, worshipping—that this is the last time his hands will feel the warm plush again.

“I don’t want this night to over.” You mumble weakly.

He pulls you in with a hand that weighs a thousand of thoughts in his mind.

“I know, darling. I know.”

He sees himself in your eyes for the final time. Looking through the clearness, Nanami’s real body, burned and bruised on one half. Yet you still look at him with eyes that would stay by his side forever.

But this is not your time yet.

You blink back the tears, a rainfall along your cheek. He brushes it away with a look of yearning.

“Promise me you’ll have a good life, darling.”

You nod, unable to say anything else, knowing the tears will return if you do. Between you two, no words are needed. He can read you, and you can read him without any words uttered. Reaching for his jaw at first, you graze your fingers along Nanami’s cheek, and rests his eyes to a close. He mouths something inaudibly in his sleep before he departs.

You do the same, but he can’t see you.

...

..

.

Nanami opens his eyes in the middle of nowhere. He fell asleep at a bus stop sitting afloat above the sea’s surface. He sees now, the same path as before, ablaze above the sea levels, leading into the horizon where the sun falls into evening glory. At the start of the road, stands a figure.

Yooo, Nanamin. There you are!

The blinding lights on the path dims when the figure takes big, energised strides towards Nanami. Upon closer inspection, it’s a man in uniform. He has a distinct lean of someone he used to know a long time ago.

“Haibara?” Nanami asks.

Long time no see, bud. You don’t have to suffer anymore.

What is this feeling? Overwhelming pain, or relief when meeting a long, lost friend? There is so much Nanami wants to say he doesn’t know where to begin.

That he should have been stronger ten years ago, should have rescued Haibara in a battle beyond both their abilities even though he was just a kid. How he spent the rest of his life repenting, dedicating himself to protect the children who didn’t deserve to be in war. How he tried and failed and made it here…

… but none of that matters anymore after death.

Nanami jumps into his arms, bringing Haibara into his tight embrace. He hugs back. Nanami closes his eyes when he feels a sting behind his cheeks, then opens it again with newfound determination. Haibara bellows a laugh, pointing at Nanami’s reddened eyes which he fails to rub away.

Let’s head on to the other side, shall we?

Nanami nods. And they walk forward, side by side, towards the end of the path. He knows it’s all going to be all okay.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. ITINERARY: > Teluk Cempedak > Lunch (Hoi Yin Restaurant) > Dessert (Kula Cakes - not mentioned) > Natural Batik Village (batik painting) > Kuantan 188 Skydeck taglist (open): @valsthea @kennedyswhore @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or use in ai & other machine learning programs.