#computer light bar

[aidma7]

Xiaomi LED Monitor Screen Bar (Mijia Lighting Lamp)

Since I work all day looking at the monitor, should I say I have to be sensitive to lighting? One day, when I was reading a message on the bulletin board, I saw a message posted by someone. I liked the product introduction picture.“Oh, that’s the style I wanted.” So I was making a tax payment.That’s how I bought the Xiaomi LED monitor screen bar.It was delivered in a week even though it was…

[icewindandboringhorror]

I kind of miss getting to know the interior of other people’s homes. So many of my friendships in adulthood are distant, or long distance/only talking over the phone, difficult to make actual plans with because of Real Life Schedules Now, etc. etc., but like in school and stuff as a kid you can just hang out at someone’s house for a few days, have a sleepover every weekend, etc. etc. I still remember the interior of all of my childhood friend’s homes, I remember all the details to the rooms and the layout of the yards and etc. etc. There’s just something kind of neat about Knowing another person’s housing space, what the décor says about them, the history of how they came to live there and their household routines and what it’s like, etc. I feel like it can be an important part of really deeply understanding someone so it’s weird to talk to and vaguely know a handful of people, but also not even know what their bedrooms look like or how they organize the dishes after washing them or etc. etc. 

[abimee]

there really is no living like trailer house living especially when your neighbor's house catches fire and they just up and take the house off the cement basement its placed on top and for like 2 months you just walk by a huge concrete triangle in the ground as they try bringing in another house

[hvseung]

stuck (s. jy)

pairing: older ceo!jake x employee!reader (f)

genre: smut.

warnings: explicit smut, dominant jakey, profanity, cheating, oral (m receiving), minor mouth play, unprotected sex🥸, minors DNI !

wc: 4.4k

🎵now playing: slow down by chase atlantic

.｡.:*:.:**:.☆*.｡.:*:.:*.｡.:*:.:**:.☆*.｡.:*:.:*

As the clock ticked toward 6:00pm, the office was slowly beginning to clear out, the only noises heard being the soft whirring of computers and a few stragglers murmuring soft goodbyes as they packed their things. However, here you were, furiously wracking your brain on how you were going to manage to get through the piles of paperwork, which had been dumped on your desk during your shift, in the span of the next half an hour when all you could focus on was the night ahead of you. After a long and grueling week, a peaceful night with your boyfriend, Soobin, was just what you needed. You smiled to yourself, already imagining his easy laugh and the way he always reaches for your hand without even thinking. You loved your boyfriend, obviously…. “Fuck this” you thought as you gathered your belongings, eager to leave and push the rest of your work responsibilities to the back of your mind. That’s a Monday job.

You adjusted the strap on your purse as you stepped into the elevator, mind too preoccupied to notice the hand quickly jamming between the doors just before they could slide closed. They opened again with a soft chime and you were pulled out of your daydream by the sight of your boss, Mr Jake Sim, standing on the other side. His tall frame, clad in a perfectly tailored suit, was almost the caricature of corporate authority. Of course, he was still here. He was always the last to leave, the type who believed in leading by example, even if it meant setting an impossibly high bar. You’d grown to admire his work ethic, even if it made the rest of you look a little lazy by comparison. “Heading out?”

“Yes, just about to.” You replied, trying to mask the slight annoyance in your tone. The last thing you wanted was to get trapped in a conversation about quarterly reports when you were this close to freedom. You shifted awkwardly as he stepped in. The silence between the two of you was loud, the only noise being the hum of the elevator as it began its descent, the small space amplifying the tension between you. It wasn’t that you disliked Jake; it was just… you two had history and he had a way of making everyone feel like they were being judged. His presence was a stark reminder that, in the hierarchy of the corporate world, you were just another cog in the machine.

12…11…10…9… You glanced at your watch, willing the elevator to move faster. You were eager to get out of the building, away from the sterile fluorescent lights and the endless stream of emails that had plagued you all day. You thought about texting Soobin, who was probably waiting in the car park for you right now, to let him know that you were on your way down. 8…7… But as if in response to your thoughts, the elevator jolted to a sudden halt. The lights flickered before the emergency lighting kicked in, leaving a dim and eerie glow over the two of you.

“Did we just…?” You murmured, looking up at the ceiling.

Jake moved quickly, pressing the buttons on the panel, but received no response from them. He pulled his phone out before sighing, the first sign of irritation breaking through his composed exterior “No signal.”

“No… no no this can’t be happening-“ You groan, panic evident in your faltering tone.

Jake responded with a short nod, his expression unreadable. “It looks like we might be in here for a while.”

As the minutes dragged on, you tried not the think about how long you were going to be stuck like this, or how it was ruining your plans with Soobin and how you didn’t have signal to let him know. Instead, you focused on staying calm, hoping someone would come to your rescue soon. But with every passing second, the shiny metal walls of began to close in on you. The silence between you and Jake grew heavier… and it wasn’t just the discomfort of being trapped. There was an unspoken tension between the two of you that neither had fully addressed but were both painfully aware of.

A year ago, things had been different. You had been one of Jakes top performers, a rising star in the department. You were quick, innovative, and always willing to go the extra mile. Jake had recognized your potential early on, and he had taken you under his wing, mentoring you and giving you opportunities to shine. You had spent long hours working together on projects, strategizing late into the night. You had respected his keen business acumen, and he had appreciated your fresh perspective and dedication.

It was during those late nights that something had shifted between you both. At first, it was just a shared glance that lingered a little too long, or a casual touch���a hand on your back as he guided you into a meeting room, or the brush of fingers as you passed papers to each other. Neither of you acknowledged it but it was intoxicating, this mix of professional respect and undeniable attraction. Both of you knew it was dangerous. He was your boss, nearly a decade older, with a reputation to maintain. You were becoming a crucial member in the company, with too much at stake to risk your career over something that could never be. Yet, the attraction was there, undeniable and electric, simmering just beneath the surface of your interactions. Not to mention your relationship.

But everything changed six months ago. You had been working on a major client pitch—one that could secure a crucial contract for the company. You had poured everything into it, sacrificing weekends and late nights, and Jake had been there every step of the way, guiding you, challenging you to push harder. There was an unspoken understanding between both of you, a mutual trust. The late nights grew longer, and the tension between you more palpable. There were moments when you were alone in his office, when knees would bump and the conversation would drift away from work, and for just a second, you would both forget who they were supposed to be. The lines blurred, and the unspoken attraction nearly spilled over into something neither could take back.

Then, just days before the presentation, he had unexpectedly pulled her from the project. No explanation, no discussion—just a curt email informing you that the project would be handed over to another colleague. You had been blindsided. You tried to ask him why, to understand what had gone wrong, but he had become cold and distant, shutting down every attempt you made to discuss it. Rumours circulated that the decision had come from higher up, that Jake had been pressured by senior management, but he never confirmed or denied them.

The fallout had been swift. You felt humiliated, betrayed by someone you had looked up to. You distanced yourself, retreating into your work, but the easy camaraderie you once shared was gone. You could barely look him in the eye during meetings, and your interactions became strictly professional, devoid of the warmth and mutual respect the two of you once had.

For you, being this close to him again brought back all the confusion, the hurt, but also the desire that had never fully gone away. The small space seemed to amplify the awkwardness, each moment stretching into an eternity as you both grappled with the weight of your unspoken history. Neither knew how to bridge the gap, or if it was even possible anymore.

Jake leaned against the wall of the elevator, his eyes flickering over to you every so often. You could tell he was uncomfortable too, if not more than you, but his poker face gave nothing away. He looked away, clearing his throat.

“You still seeing whats-his-name?” His voice was casual, but laced with an underlying curiosity

“Soobin?” You shifted awkwardly, playing with your fingers “Uh, yeah. I am.”

He nods slowly, as if he expected the answer, but still felt a pang of… jealousy? “Serious, huh?” He almost scoffed, feigning nonchalance.

“Yeah. We are.” I shrug, making Jakes eyes narrow slightly.

“Why him?” The question was blunt, almost blunt enough to be rude. He couldn’t help himself though, the thought of you with someone else, especially someone as carefree and easy going as Soobin, rankled him in a way that he couldn’t admit.

I scoff lightly. “Are you really going to do this now Mr Sim?”

“Oh, so its ‘Mr Sim’ now, is it?” He retorts, a familiar irritation settling in. “What happened to ‘Jakey’?”

“I’m pretty sure you made it clear that you wanted us to be strictly professional when you dropped me from that project.” You grit, the memory still a sore spot between the two of you.

He bristles at the reminder. “That wasn’t my decision,” he sighs, the excuse sounding weak now, especially in the confinement of the elevator. He turns to look at you properly. “And that was different. That was work. This… this is something else.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit, don’t act like that.” He takes a step closer towards you, invading your personal space “Like you don’t remember the late nights, the tension, or have you conveniently forgotten all about that part?”

“Mr Sim don’t do this. Not now.” You finally meet his gaze, your patience warring thin.

“Why not?” He counters with a bitter laugh. “Seems like as good a time as any to have this conversation.”

“There is no conversation to be had,” You swallow harshly as he steps closer, his tall frame looming over you “it was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” His jaw clenches, the air thicker than it was. “Is that really what you think it was?”

You couldn’t deny that you knew full well what it was. You liked Jake, as much as you wouldn’t admit. The worst part being, he was everything your boyfriend wasn’t. He was everything you longed for your boyfriend to be. You felt awful, in fact, the knowledge of your feelings towards Jake had been eating away at you everyday since the day they started. The late nights working side by side, the discreet touching, it was more than a simple attraction; it was completely wrong. But that just made you want it even more.

The proximity was almost intoxicating, the familiar heat of his body igniting a fire in you that you had tried so hard to smother. You could smell his cologne, the same scent that you would spend hours trying to rid yourself of before going home after late nights spent with him at work. The memory hit you like a physical blow, and you found yourself holding your breath. You cursed your body’s betrayal, the way it ached for his touch, even as your brain screamed in protest.

Jakes gaze darkened, the last shred of his patience and self-control hanging by a thread. He lifted his hand, his fingers hovering a mere inch away from your face. It would be so easy. So easy for him to claim what he had been yearning for, to forget the boundaries he had placed between you.

“Would this be a mistake too?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Jakey…”

His resolved shattered. He surged forwards, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you hard against his chest, crashing his lips onto yours in a passionate, desperate kiss. The months of pent-up desire, the longing, the uncertainty, it all exploded in that moment. You opened your mouth to protest, but his tongue delved deep, silencing any words. He pushed you back against the wall, pinning you there as his lips claimed you with an intensity that was almost animalistic.

One of his hands reached to tangle in your hair, tugging it back to give him access to your neck as he began to suck and nip at the sensitive flesh. You gasp, almost whining, and he relished in the sound, his other hand gripping your thigh and hoisting it up to hold against his hip.

“Jake we can’t- not here.” You protest.

“Don’t care,” he retorted, his lips trailing to your collarbone. He nicked softly at the skin, his teeth grazing the flesh and leaving small marks “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you.” He ground his hips against yours, making his intentions and arousal blatantly obvious. His hand caressed your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “You don’t understand how torturous it’s been, seeing you every day and knowing I can’t touch you.”

His hand slid under your blouse, his touch igniting sparks across your skin. It was wrong, so wrong, and yet it felt so right. He pulled the fabric taunt, his large hand splaying over your stomach. You arched into his touch, begging for more.

Jake smirks at your reaction; the small sighs and whines that leave your pretty lips as you subtly arch your back. He knows you want it as badly as he does, your body giving you away. His hand slides up your ribcage, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin below your bra.

“See?” He murmurs, his hand cupping your breast through the thin lacy fabric that he loved so much. “I knew you wanted this; wanted me.” His voice was gravelly, rough with desire. You knew he was right. Youd fought against it for so long, denying your feelings and convincing yourself you were happy with your relationship. But now, here, with jakes body pressed against yours like this, all your justifications seemed hollow. He tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his heavy gaze. His eyes were dark, almost predatory, and they pierced right through you.

“Say it.” He commanded and his hand kneaded your breast gently “Say you want me.”

“I want you Mr Sim.” You whimper without any hesitation.

“That’s what I thought.” His mouth was back on your neck, his tongue licking a hot, wet trail down the column of your throat. His teeth sink into your pulse point, sucking the skin into his mouth. You could feel his hand sliding lower, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your trousers. He was driving you insane, reducing you to nothing but a whining mess as he slowly unbuttons your blouse. He pops one button at a time, kissing and biting the skin in between each one.

You moan, tilting your head back to give him complete access to the sensitive skin on your neck whilst one of your hands reaches to tangle in his hair. He responds to your touch with a deep, guttural sound, somewhere between a growl and a purr. He pushed your breasts together, pulling away from your neck to purse his lips. You watched as a glob of spit falls from his lips and lands on one of your nipples before rolling down the crevice.

Jake moaned loudly, immediately ducking his head to smear his lips around your boobs, nipping and sucking at them. You moan louder, arching your breasts further into his mouth and allowing his to suck them properly. He devours your tits, each falling out of his mouth with a satisfying 'pop'. His mouth returned to yours, his tongue delving between your lips to devour you entirely. He catches your lip between his teeth, biting down gently.

“On your knees.” He ordered, and you obeyed immediately.

He inhaled sharply as he watched you sinking to your knees before him, his hands instinctively going to your hair. “Look at you, doll,” He muttered. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, smearing any lipstick that remained. “I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t approve of this.”

You whine, the mere idea of your boyfriend having completely slipped your mind. But you were too far gone to care, opening your mouth slightly, just enough for him to slip his thumb past your teeth. His eye darkened further, the digit sliding further into your mouth.

“You like sucking on my fingers, don’t you?” He chuckled; his voice thick with need. “Bet you like your boyfriends just as much.”

“No sir.” You shake your head meekly. “Like your fingers so much more.”

“Is that so?” His voice was a little raspier now, desperate for something more than just this back and forth teasing. “Then show me how much you like them.”

You take index and middle finger whole, gagging and swirling your tongue around the thick digits. Jake groaned, his eyes widening as he watches you take him so easily. He tightened his grip on your hair, pulling slightly. “That’s it.”

His unoccupied hand moves to the front of his trousers, undoing his belt and top button in one fluid motion. He was achingly hard, and the slight of you like this in front of him was thinning his patience. You pull your mouth from his fingers, reaching up in a desperate attempt to help him undress. He let out a hiss as your fingers make contact with his strained pants. “Yeah, unzip me then.”

The sound of his zipper being drawn echoed in the quiet elevator. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, your wet lips, the way your fingers fumble with his pants, the flush on your cheeks that gave away your mounting excitement. God, he was desperate.

You get his pants down, whining as he tugs your hair forward to press your cheek flush against his thick bulge. The feeling of you face against his clothed dick make him shiver, his hips canting forward involuntarily; seeking more contact. “You like that, don’t you? God your so dirty. Are you this dirty for your pathetic boyfriend too?”

“No sir, only you.”

“Good,” He groaned again, pulling on your hair again. “I don’t share.”

Your finger hook underneath his boxers waistband, tugging on the elastic and letting it snap back against his skin before pulling them down completely. He helped you, kicking the boxers down until the pooled at his ankles with his trousers He stood there, his lower half completely exposed to you, but he held your chin in his face, keeping you gaze on his.

“You see how much you affect me, doll?” He smirked predatorily as your eyes fixed on his cock, hard and flushed against his stomach. “But you’re gonna take care of this for me, aren’t you?”

Your tongue darted out, licking a tentative stripe up the underside of his boner. He let out a shuddered breath, his hand clenching reflectively in your hair. He guided your head closer, encouraging you to take him properly. You run your tongue over his slit before closing your lips around the head. He groaned, his body arching towards you and silently bidding you to keep going.

“Look at me when you suck my dick baby.” He ordered. Your eyes immediately catch his gaze; his half-lidded eyes that perfectly complimented his bottom lip caught between his teeth. The sight encouraged you, holding his gaze as you take him whole and wrapping your lips around his base. Jakes head rolls back, a deep, guttural moan escaping his throat. He pants as you begin bobbing your head at his base, your nose nudging against his lower abdomen with a soft gag. “Fuck, just like that.”

You speed up, taking him even deeper - if that was possible, desperate to take as much of him as you possibly could. His muscles clenched in response, his abs flexing as he drew in a gasping breath. He finally looks down at you again, eager to see what you look like taking him so far down your throat like this; and you didn’t disappoint. You looked at him through your eyelashes, sucking him so deliciously with a teary expression. He couldn’t look away; he didn’t dare. It was too perfect, so erotic and beautiful.

“You can’t look at me like that, YN,” He moans. “I won’t last.”

You immediately double down, bobbing and swirling your tongue like your life depended on it. You had a different purpose now; this was no longer about him, this was about you. You and your desperation to taste him. His hands twist in your hair, his grip border lining on painful.

“Holy fuck-“ He choked, his stomach coiled like a spring. He was so close to cumming, but he didn’t want to. Not yet, not like this. He moved your mouth off him, pulling you up to your feet and pushing you back against the wall. “Turn around. Now.”

As soon as your back is turned to him, his hands are on you in an instant. His fingers run up the clothed skin of your thighs before reaching around the unbutton your trousers. He undid the button and zipper with a swift, practiced motion, each tooth separating echoing in the cramped space. He pushed the material down, the cold air hitting your soaked core immediately. His hands glide slowly over the newly exposed skin, teasing you.

“So smooth,” He mused, his voice almost a soft whine. “I knew you’d be.”

He pushes your thighs together, rutting his dick between them. You moan in unison, his tip bumping against your clit. He just couldn’t help himself, seeing you so wet and puffy for him was making him borderline insane.

“Don’t tease me, Jakey.” You whine as he holds your thighs closer together. He chuckled at your pleading, the old nickname making his spine shiver. He ruts between your thighs one more time before abruptly slipping into your pussy. You gasp loudly as he pushes in, grasping onto the hand-railing in front of you as you adjust to his size.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” He groans as he grips your hips, pulling you back to take him fully as he finally begins to rock into you. “Does your boyfriend even fuck you?”

You were too lost in the moment, the feel of him, the way he held you, the sound of his voice, that you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone speak. But when he mentioned your boyfriend, a pang of guilt stabs at your chest.

“No?” He assumed, scoffing loudly. “I bet he doesn’t even know how to.”

His arm tightened around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. His hips speed up, making your head fall back against his shoulder with a loud moan.

“You need someone who can take care of you,” he told you, his breathing becoming a little ragged. “Someone who knows what you want, what you need.”

The only thing that can be heard in the confined elevator now is skin slapping, combined moans and your body hitting the metal wall with each deep thrust. You respond with a whine, pushing your hips back to encourage him. He catches your signal, slamming his hips against yours.

“That’s it, baby,” He hisses, his fingers digging into your hips desperately. “Take what you need.”

You could feel every inch of him. Every inch of his thick, veiny length as he filled you up perfectly with each thrust. It made your head spin as you moaned and cried desperately. There was no you could go back to your boyfriend after this, not now that you knew what real dick felt like. And he seemed to sense your realisation, the way your body arches against him, the way your eyes rolled back so beautifully. You were his now.

He increased his pace, his tip bumping against your g-spot with every harsh blow. The pleasure was mounting between you, both of your stomachs coiled like springs. But neither of you dared to say anything, too desperate to prolong this moment for as long as possible.

He could feel you getting tighter, your pussy clamping down on him like a vice; like you never wanted him to pull away. Jake moans, a needy whine in his throat. Every movement, every breath, moan – it was all for you. He was entirely wrapped up in you.

“I’m so close baby.” His hips bucked forwards more, aiming to get as deep as he possibly could.

The sound of his moans, the way he was falling apart because of you, it only served to push you closer to the edge. You could feel his eagerness and it made you want him even more. “Me too!”

“You gonna make a mess on my dick?” He pants, his tip continuing to slam against your g-spot. "Gonna make a mess like a good slut?"

“Yes!” You moan loudly. His hips stutter at your admission, his rhythm growing erratic and sloppy. “Wanna cum with you.”

“Please let me come in your sweet pussy, baby” He whines, desperately nudging his nose against you neck before attacking the spot with bites.

“Fill me up sir!” You push back against him again. But it wasn’t enough for him, he needed you to cum.

“Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum on this dick.” And that was all it took for your walls to clamp down on him and for your juices to explode down your thighs with a loud cry. His head dropped to your shoulder, his breathe catching in his throat, the feeling and sound of you pushing him headfirst into pure ecstasy.

“Fuuck, doll!” He came, filling you up perfectly with a loud whine as his arms wrapped around you in a vice-like grip. He stayed like that for a moment, panting into your neck. He didn’t want to move, his body taut with exhaustion. “You look so pretty when you fall apart like that. So pretty.”

He slowly pulls out of you, almost hardening again when he watches his cum drip down your thighs in thick globs. You flinch as you turn around, a ball of clothes hitting you in the face. Your fingers grasp the clothing, pulling them down from your face to glare at him. “Yeah, real classy.”

As if on cue, the elevator jolted, beginning its decent again. You sigh, relieved that you could finally escape the humid box you had been trapped in for the past 20 minutes. You both put your clothes back on, smoothing the fabric and fixing each other hair. The elevator finally reaches the ground floor, both of stepping out together.

“See you Monday?” He smirks.

“See you Monday.” You roll your eyes as you turn on your heels. You walk away from him and out into the car park, desperately hoping Soobin hadn’t left yet. Jake watched as you retreat out of his view, thanking god.

Thanking god that you didn’t notice him push the emergency stop.

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@ hvseung, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway. thankyou :)

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[oreo-creampie]

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚; 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cam girl!!reader, gangbang, bondage, fingering, face fucking, dacryphilia, choking you with their cocks, light anal with a tip dragon’s tongue, taking nude pictures, degradation/praise/light mocking, pain kink, biting, toji slaps your face with his cock, begging, bdsm

oreo: couldn't stop thinking about this idea of them finding out reader is a cam girl and filming with her, I’m thinking of making this a mini series of them filing various acts with the reader, y’all down for that?

The dark red rope binding your wrists to your ankles, strapped and held apart by a short bar. Looping over your shoulders forcing your back into an arch, keeping your head up. You're vulnerable and small surrounded by five massive men.

He glances at the stream's rising numbers, two hundred becoming five becoming one thousand. “Damn these people are fast n' horny, did y’all miss your -what is it-" he smirks, "Princess Buttercup that much?”

Glancing at the chat, gushing in their excitement already suggesting various things for the group to do to you. Toji reads aloud, “Thought she filmed alone only? Release the princess at once?" Wiggling his phone at the camera. "The fuck is this bullshit? I'm cummin' in her cunt and then again on her face 'cause fuck you.” Slapping your ass, tossing his phone onto the middle of the bed.

"More!" Your body lurches forward with the force of Toji's next slap. Crying Satoru stuffs his veiny cock deep into your mouth, choking you. Quickly pumping his hips, his balls hitting your chin.

Satoru croons “Ya'll hear that? Our demanding bratty Princess wants more.” Gliding his cock out. "Tell everyone in chat what you want us to do to you.” Stroking his cock, coaxing out thick pre cum he smears on your lips.

Licking the pre-cum off your lips, looking up at Satoru. "Anything ya'll want, fuck whatever hole you want! Please I wanna be y’all’s cum dump!" Sticking your tongue out, moaning when he stuffs his veiny cock deep into your mouth.

Choso slides two thick fingers along your lips, wetting his fingers. “Let the audience know our safe word, and color system to ease anyone’s worry.” Smearing your slick onto your puffy, sensitive clit. Gently swirling his thumb around your tight hole.

Satoru loudly moans, fucking your mouth with deep, quick strokes. His balls hit your chin. "Nnn fuckin' slut, your mouth is so fucking wet and hot. Your lips are so damn beautiful wrapped around my cock. Nn that's it, beautiful slut." Groaning on his cock, another warm fatter cockhead nudges your cheek smearing pre-cum.

Satoru slips his cock out with a loud pop. "It's mocha to start aftercare, red for a break, yellow for slow down, green for good." Turning your head, mouth open, tongue out, eager to suck on the cock next to you. Taking Sukuna's thicker cock with a moan, his thick cock muffling the sound. A puffy vein glides along your soft tongue with each quick rough thrust.

Choso gently nudging past your lips. You'd moan from the pleasure of his thick fingers filling you up. "Good girl, your cunt's so tight n soft 'round my fingers." Gradually pumping his fingers faster, curling them. Your cunt clenching when he brushes your sweet spot.

Sukuna glides his cock out; you don't have time to catch your breath before Satoru stuffs his cock in. Your computer reads out. "Cumguzzler3 donates 600: white haired one moans like a whore, what's his channel. Or will this become a group channel, I'd pay to see ya'll using her as the house’s glory hole."

Followed by; "Dopedaddy42069 donated 1k: Any1 who cums in her ass gets 2k. She started experimenting with her ass. She has several drawers full of toys; u can find something." You hear a few drawers open.

Suguru wonders, "What should be the first thing we stuff up her ass?" The bed shifts when Toji gets up, joining Suguru by your large drawer. He pulls out a part of a dragon's mouth. Open with its long thick tongue slimming down to a small point. Ridges on the bottom offer another challenge besides the tongue's thickness.

Holding it up between Suguru and himself. "What 'bout this thing? Wonder how deep our pretty whore can take it." Suguru grabs the lube, squirting a generous amount onto the tongue's small tip. Toji smears it down its thickening length, walking over back to where you're hogtied at the edge of your bed.

Satoru and Sukuna are taking turns with fucking your mouth. Choso is restlessly stroking your sweet spot. Trembling, unable to close to legs or twist your hips away. You haven't even cummed yet the pleasure is too intense.

Suguru grabs the camera off its stand, "We have to take turns holding the camrea, I want to be able to jerk off to this later without ya'lls pale ass cheeks getting in the way from it being on a stand still." Your eyes are burning with tears when Satoru pulls his cock out.

You're gasping for air, your lungs burning, a few tears trickling down your cheeks. Sukuna fists his cock faster, your cunt clenching from the slick sound. “Aw our slut is cryin’ already!” He glides his thumb over his head, smearing pre-cum over his head. Sticking your tongue out for Sukuna to easily fuck your mouth.

Satoru suggests, "Let's take a few pictures, I want to change out my Home Screen and background. " He gets his phone, passing Sukuna's to him. He grabs a handful of your hair, holding your head still forcing his thick, veiny cock deep into your mouth.

Holding still with his cock stuffed deep, your nose touching the short dark patch of hair above his cock. Flashes go off as Satoru and Sukuna take pictures. "Dommymommy09 donated 600: post the pictures I'll pay more for them."

You’re getting off on how their taking pictures as you’re cumming on Choso’s thick fingers, with your mouth stuffed full of Sukuna’s cock. So many people are watching, touching themselves, wishing they could be you in between five beautiful, horny, muscular men.

Choso slips his phone out of his gym shorts. Recording the mess of your beautiful cunt getting sloppier. "She's gonna be on the verge of passing out when we are done with her." Choso roughly bites your cheek, groaning when you cry around Sukuna's cock.

Kissing the sharply stinging when before fully pulling away. Slapping your ass, Sukuna glides his cock out, the soft ridge of his head dragging along your tongue. Swirling your tongue around him when he pauses. “Fuck that’s it, cock hungry slut suckin’ on me like that.” Loosening his hold on your hair, letting you bob your head. Spit dripping down your chin.

Choso glides his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth sucking them clean. Suguru gets behind you, giving everyone a close up of your sloppy cunt. Spreading your lips apart. “Look at her poor little cunt clenching nothing.” Choso takes the camera from Suguru, wrapping his hand around his cock.

Smearing his pre cum with thumb, Choso bites his bottom lip trying to keep from moaning right next to the mic. Holding the camera steady, recording the mess Toji, Suguru, Satoru and Sukuna are making of you.

Suguru lines his cock up, slamming his thick, veiny cock into your sensitive, tight cunt. Groaning, taking the toy from Toji, nudging the tip of the dragon’s tongue into your ass.

Sukuna glides his cock out, letting Toji take his place in front. Toji slaps you across the face with his fat cock. Moaning with your tongue stuck out for Toji to use your mouth. “Looks like I’m cumming on ya face first, before I stuff your pretty little ass.” Stuffing his cock into your sore mouth, stuffing his head in deep.

"Lovefatpussy7 donated 300: seeing her play with herself makes my cock hard but I want to see her get treated like the whore she is."

"Spookygothybitchy69 donated 900: first time taking a cock on camera and it's a group, get it girl, i'm dripping wet n’ wishing I was you”

oreo creampie's m.list

Cam girl!reader x group m.list

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE NEVER BEFORE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: your patience is thinning. despite having a conversation with dazai and being led to believe everything is okay, he's suddenly avoiding you again. luckily, or maybe unluckily, his hand is forced when he realizes that you're not waiting for him this time. whether he likes it or not, this confrontation is happening—except you slowly realize as it goes on that dazai's definition of intimacy is dreadfully different from yours.

{wordcount: 10.4k; ņsfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i wouldn't say this is angst but it does deal with some references to heavy topics; jealous!dazai, depictions of dissociation (dazai), dazai's on the brink of a mental breakdown for a bit in the beginning, references to abuse (dazai. no actual depictions), references to dubcon (dazai. no actual depictions), dazai is wildly intelligent but not so much when it comes to sex & other forms of intimacy (he is quite uneducated in fact), slight oral (male rec), unprotected sex, sub!dazai, dazai and reader argue for a bit (he calls her a whore - doesn't mean it but still says it)}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: 😒i hope you guys know im sitting here glaring at my computer because i did not want to post this fic. it's been sitting in my google drive for like AGES and im literally having to physically force myself into formatting this post because i wanted to keep it hoarded forever. anyway, read the warnings for this one pretty pls, this fic is a bit loaded—not exactly angst, but it references some heavy topics. let me know if any warnings are missing as always!

“I’m so sick and tired of him.”

You listen as Chuuya lets out another heavy sigh next to you, pointedly taking a sip of his wine, but you don’t even bother to glance at him as you glare down at your phone. Left on read, again, Dazai ignores your message asking him to meet you and Chuuya at the bar. You slam your phone down on the dark wood of the bar top before reaching for your own glass, taking a large gulp of it before opening your mouth to continue complaining, much to Chuuya’s displeasure.

“I thought things would be different after we talked. He moved back into my apartment but he’s still avoiding me like the fucking plague. I mean Christ, I broke up with my boyfriend, came crawling back to him because I knew he was pissed even though he’d rather kill himself—literally—than admit he likes me. Why the fuck can’t he even given an inch? Meet me halfway?” 

“Because he’s Dazai,” Chuuya says dryly. “What did you expect from him, honestly? … And we all know you weren’t going to stick with that civilian.”

“Oh, shut up,” you tell him bitterly. “That’s not the point. The point is I did, and I went right to him, and we talked, and he acted like everything was fine, and now he’s pulling this shit. How is he going to live in my fucking apartment and avoid me at every corner? And whenever I do manage to catch him, he makes up some bullshit excuse about a mission I know he doesn’t have and disappears.”

You lean back in your chair, brows furrowed and fingers curled around your glass. By now, all of the people that had been sitting near the two of you at the bar have dispersed to the dancefloor—if your arrival with Chuuya hadn’t been enough to send them scattering, your foul mood was more than enough to make them give you a wide berth.

“I’m frustrated,” you finally hiss. “I’m just frustrated, am I allowed to be frustrated, Chuuya?”

Chuuya side-eyes you. “Stop fuckin’ complaining to me about it and do something about it, jeez,” he says, hand sliding into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, holding it between his lips as he fumbles for a lighter to light it.

“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” you ask, becoming increasingly more irritated as you pull out your own lighter to light it for him. “I tried talking to him, now he’s ignoring me.”

Chuuya has the audacity to roll his eyes, looking at you with an unimpressed expression that makes you want to pluck his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out on his skin. As if he can hear your thoughts, he leans back, giving you a suspicious look.

“I’m not talking about that shithead,” Chuuya drawls. “If you’re so frustrated, go find some sorry bastard to fuck it out of you. We both know that’s all it takes to get you to settle down.”

“Fuck you,” you say instantly, not appreciating how he acts like you’re a nympho. But already, your gaze is carding across the room, trying to see if someone catches your eye. When you find yourself disappointed, you look back at him and ask, “You offering yourself up?”

Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Fuck no,” he tells you instantly. “No way. Don’t even say that shit to me.”

You’re almost offended, squinting at him and leaning back in your seat. “Why not? Like old times. You know what I like, I know what you like, we can make a good night out of it,” you propose as you lean your elbow on the bartop and observe him.

“Because shitty Dazai will never let me hear the end of it if he finds out,” Chuuya says pointedly, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Bastard is annoying as is, if he finds out I’ve slept with you? It’d be the end of the world.”

“You have slept with me though, Chuuya,” you taunt. “Who’s to say I won’t tell him anyway?”

You won’t, but you like the way Chuuya’s lip curls up in irritation around his cigarette.

“Go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll tell him all about that time in Osaka.”

You gasp, scandalized. “Chuuya,” you hiss. “You would not. You swore.”

“Try me,” Chuuya says, raising his eyebrows at you, looking all too smug as you flounder for a response.

Humbled, and a bit mortified, you return to looking around the club, lowering your standards this time. You spot a blonde standing in the corner of the club, eyes flitting around curiously as he observes the people on the dancefloor, and a redhead laughing wildly as she spins with a drink in hand, teetering off to the edge of the floor. You purse your lips.

“No one is catching my attention,” you complain, sinking back down in your seat.

You decidedly don’t like the smirk that edges onto his lips as he looks at you, and it’s for good reason, because the next words out of his mouth have your eye twitching: “You’re that down bad for him already? Jesus.”

“I am not,” you spit out, glaring at him before pointedly returning to your hunt, looking around more intensely this time. 

But even as you do that, you start to wonder if that’s why no one is standing out to you tonight. How the fuck is anyone supposed to compare to Dazai Osamu? The thought is ridiculous—you don’t want to tug at blonde hair to pull someone down into a kiss, you don’t want a head of tousled red locks buried between your thighs, there’s only one person you actually want in your bed and he’s been avoiding you since you talked things out with him.

You let out a heavy sigh, considering just admitting defeat, but then your eyes drift to a tall, dark haired man entering the club, making his way over to the bar; his hair is a bit too long and a bit too straight, and his eyes aren’t the right shade, but they’re sharp enough and you’re tipsy enough to willfully confuse them for the familiar brown you desire.

“Nevermind,” you breathe out. Chuuya doesn’t even spare you a goodbye as you slip from your seat to make your way over to the man, lifting his hand in a lazy wave. “I found someone.”

Chuuya was right.

You think maybe you should stop doubting him as much as you do. This is not the first time that you’ve fought him tooth and nail about something only for him to be proven right in the end. But you’re not going to tell him that because he has a big enough ego and you’re not going to feed into it.

Dealing with Dazai’s fickleness the past two weeks has been much easier now that you’re fucking out your frustrations with strangers as soon as he’s gone for the night on whatever mission Mori assigns him. You take his aloofness in stride, ignoring the way he blows you off and avoids you in your own home. You think it’s bothering him, actually, because now when you walk past him without a second glance, you can see the way he hesitates from the corner of your eye, an indecipherable expression crossing over his face.

Good, you think. You hope he feels like shit. 

You let out a soft breath as you tilt your head to the side, giving the man you’re with better access. From the corner of your eye, with the tousled brown hair, you can almost pretend it’s him, but you know it’s not. His hair isn’t as soft as Dazai’s, who all but hijacked your expensive shampoos and conditioners, and you can’t feel the bandages that should be tucked beneath the tufts of hair. Your mind starts to drift, comparing how you think Dazai’s touch would be to this man’s. When you first kissed him, he was unsure and hesitant, would he still be now? Or has he grown more confident? You think he must’ve, you’ve seen him with people during events, lips tilted up in a sensual smile, lashes fluttering as he leads them into one of the backrooms. 

Sick and unfair, you think to yourself bitterly.

You let out a heavy, disappointed sigh.

“You good?” the man asks—you don’t remember his name, you don’t even know if you cared to ask. His voice is distinctly different from Dazai’s low hum whenever he teases you, a total immersion-break from your desired reality.

You roll your eyes, irritated. “Don’t speak.”

The man lets out a noise of agreement, fingers biting a bit harder into your waist as he continues kissing down your neck. You don’t really mind, the sting is nice, just enough force to draw your mind away from Dazai. The sigh you let out is more pleased now, eyes slipping shut as his hands slide up your body, kisses trailing down your neck to your collarbone. His lips are too soft; Dazai’s are horribly chapped no matter how much chapstick you force on him.

Dazai is out on another “mission”. You don’t even know if it’s a real mission or if he’s just claiming it’s a mission so he doesn’t have to stick around the apartment while you’re there, lowering the chances of running into you. For all you know, he’s just going back to that shitty shipping container he spent a year in and hanging out there until you leave for one of your own missions or a meeting. He looked particularly sullen as he left earlier, casting looks back to where you’d disappeared into the kitchen, not realizing you could still see him before he finally left your apartment. 

He’s such a pain in the ass, you think, getting irate again as he drifts back into your thoughts. He makes everything so difficult, things would be so much easier he just admitted that he wanted to be with you. You really don’t know how much more of this back and forth, wishy-washy shit you can take from him. You care about Dazai. You do. Probably more than anyone else in your life and you’re sick of him taking it for granted. 

You hum in approval when the man lifts his hands to your button-up, hesitating as he waits for your consent, and your gaze flicks up to the ceiling as he continues kissing down the revealed skin; from the crook of your neck to your collarbone, between your breasts, he unbuttons all the way to your navel.

You find yourself a bit bored, counting the specks on the ceiling, taking note of the crack that you’re sure is somehow Dazai’s fault. You think there must only be two more buttons left for him to undo before you can slide the shirt off of your shoulders but you start to feel uncomfortable under his touch, you feel prickly and his lips trailing down your body makes your skin crawl.

“Off,” you finally say, voice sharp. You press your hand against his shoulder to push him off of you, sitting up straight to sit properly on the couch. You scowl as you fumble through your pants pockets to find a cigarette.

This is Dazai’s fault somehow.

“Did I do something wrong?” the man asks hesitantly, trying to shift closer to you again. “I-”

“No,” you say bluntly, lighting the cigarette and lifting it to your lips. “Get out of my apartment.”

The man hesitates, you can feel his eyes lingering on you and you’re becoming increasingly more irritated, shooting him a glare from the corner of your eye until he finally rises to his feet, buttoning his shirt as he makes his way over to the elevator. You slump back against the couch, sighing as you look up at the ceiling and take a long drag from your cigarette.

Dazai’s fault. As soon as he crossed your mind, your whole demeanor had changed and you try to convince yourself that it’s because you just don’t know what his issue is. You don’t know why he’s avoiding you, you don’t know what changed after you met with him at the bar; you thought things would be good between the two of you. You thought you’d be able to be with him now that nothing’s left in your way but evidently there still is something preventing the two of you from being together and it’s something that Dazai is not sharing with you.

Bastard, you think bitterly, about to pull out your phone to send Chuuya a very irritated and very foul message about Dazai but before you can, the elevator leading up to your floor bings and you look up to watch the man you’d invited over leave.

Except as the doors slide open, you realize that someone is already standing in there.

You sit up straight when you see Dazai standing in the elevator, black gaze trained right on the man leaving your apartment. His movements are almost robotic as he steps out of the elevator, his head twisting to follow the man as he steps in the elevator. He looks distinctly unnerved as Dazai’s soulless gaze tracking him until the elevator doors slide back shut.

It’s only then that Dazai only turns to look at you. His face is eerily void of emotion as he looks at you, gaze dipping down to your unbuttoned shirt and the light bruises blooming on your neck and collarbone. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, wondering if he’s going to say something, but he only stands there staring at you.

“I thought you had a mission,” you finally say, leaning forward to put your cigarette out on the ashtray on the coffee table to button up your shirt half way so you’re not nearly undressed. When you finish, you pick up your glass of wine and take a sip. “You’re back early.” 

“I finished early,” Dazai replies, monotonic. 

He doesn’t budge from where he’s standing, limbs stiff and face blank. You glance down, noticing that he’s holding something in his right hand—a bag, takeout, maybe? Looks like it’s from that place in Hodogaya-ku that you like. 

“What’s that?” you ask, nodding toward the bag. Dazai follows your gaze down to it, staring at it as if he doesn’t even know what it is. You frown, becoming a bit concerned as you rise to your feet. “Dazai, you good?”

Dazai’s gaze doesn’t leave the bag for a second; after what feels like an eternity, he finally looks back up at you but he doesn’t even seem to be looking at you, rather it feels like he’s looking through you like you’re not even there.

“I got food,” he says blankly.

Your eyes widen a bit, wondering if this is meant to be his apology for being an asshole the past few weeks. Dazai never apologizes—he disappears until he can act like nothing happened or he does something to make up for what he did, but he doesn’t ever acknowledge what he did. It’s frustrating, but you’ve gotten used to his quirks over the years. You’d been wondering why he seemed so melancholic before he left.

You nod at the spot next to you on the couch, accepting the apology and sitting back down. “I’ll put on a movie.”

Dazai looks at the spot like it’s been poisoned, expression finally twisting from the emptiness into one of disgust.

“What?” you demand, offended.

Dazai doesn’t even respond to you; you can only stare in disbelief as he turns on his heel and walks in the direction of the kitchen. You don’t budge for a second, staring in shock to where he disappeared to, but after a few moments, you force yourself up to your feet and follow after him.

Your mind races as you make your way down the short hall into the kitchen, standing in the door frame as you watch him put the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, pulling the different containers out of the bag and then opening the fridge. His movements are stiff and abrupt, almost robotic, and your irritation slips away when you see the expression on his face.

Closed-off. Withdrawn. Very reminiscent of the look on his face from that time he came back to your apartment after a mission that went wrong post-Dragon’s head Conflict, right before he had his first breakdown in front of you. He’d been trying to hold it all back, desperate to not lose control in front of you, but it was to no avail because it only made it worse.

“Dazai, what’s wrong?” you ask carefully as he stuffs another container into the fridge, so roughly that the plastic almost snaps. “Dazai-”

“Nothing,” Dazai responds sharply, voice cold and cutting but the way he takes in a sharp, shaky breath betrays him. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing.”

“Okay, that’s a lie,” you say flatly, sighing to yourself. “Can you just-”

“You’re the liar,” Dazai cuts you off, voice shrill and defensive in a way you’ve never heard from him before. Something crosses his face: a weird mixture of panic, anger and distress, like he knows he’s losing control of his emotions but he can’t stop himself. You don’t usually have such a hard time reading Dazai—it’s difficult, yes, but not as impossible as it currently is. It’s stressing you out because you don’t know what’s wrong and he’s clearly working himself up more over it. “You’re the liar. You’re the liar.”

Your eye twitches. Three breaths in and three breaths out. Now’s really not the time for you to lose your temper on him considering he’s on the brink of a mental breakdown for whatever reason. But you’re pissed, you don’t know why he’s calling you a liar and you don’t know what is going on, and you don’t want to deal with this especially after he just spent weeks ignoring and avoiding you.

“What did I lie about, Dazai?” you ask tightly, nails digging into your palms as you wait for a response. “Please, enlighten me.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tightening as he resumes tossing the food into the fridge.

“Dazai, stop,” you tell him, taking a step forward when he finally gets to the bottom of the takeout bag and slams the fridge shut so hard that it rattles. He grabs the empty bag and is about to storm over to the garbage can but before he can, you reach forward and grab his wrist, stopping him. “Will you fucking talk to me?”

“Let go,” Dazai hisses, trying to rip his arm from your hold but your fingers are too tight around his wrist, his bandages rough against the pads of your fingers—you don’t know why he’s still using those old scratchy ones when you stocked up with the softer ones but it only serves to irritate you more because why are you going out of your way to do nice things for him if he’s just going to toss it to the side? “Let go of me.”

“Tell me what your issue is,” you demand. “I’m done playing games with you, Dazai. Grow the fuck up and communicate.”

Dazai’s eye is wide and wild, looking far too much like a cornered animal as he bares his teeth at you and tries to yank out of your hold on him again. “My issue is that you’re a whore,” he spits out. “Let go of me. Now.”

You let go of him.

Instantly, the anger in Dazai’s face fizzles away. His eye is just as wide but his expression is lax, lips parted as if he’s only now just registering what he said. And you know he regrets it, you know that Dazai lashes out when he feels cornered; he becomes cruel and vicious, desperate in his attempts to protect himself when he feels vulnerable and since Dazai is Dazai, he knows how to hurt people. Knows exactly where the chinks in your armor are, drives the dagger in deep and twists it.

But even knowing this, it still hurts hearing that from him of all people.

“Okay.”

Your voice is quiet, you don’t even waste a second before turning on your heel and leaving the kitchen.

“Wait,” Dazai calls after you, voice wavering. “Wait, I didn’t…”

He can’t even finish the sentence because Dazai is Dazai and he doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t admit his wrongs. Doesn’t admit that he lost control and said something he didn’t mean to say. Would rather preserve his false visage of control than do anything like that.

“Where are you going?” Dazai asks and you can hear him trailing after you, words drawn long and shaky. “Hey, wait-”

You don’t know where you’re going. Leaving your apartment, you think, considering your feet are moving right to the elevator, but once you leave the building? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ll head over to Chuuya’s and crash at his apartment for the night, maybe you’ll go get shit-faced at a bar. You don’t really care, you just don’t want to be anywhere near Dazai right now. He’s put you through enough the past few weeks for you to stand here and take this shit from him. 

“I don’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice cold and sharp. “Maybe I’ll go find that guy I kicked out and finish the job if I’m such a whore.”

Dazai inhales sharply from behind you. “What?” he breathes out. “No. No. I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?” you scoff, not even looking back at him. “Didn’t mean it? You can’t even bring yourself to say it, Dazai. Clearly you did.”

That’s not true, you know it’s only Dazai’s pride that prevents him from forcing those words out, but you know it makes him flinch and you know it makes him hesitate. You also know how to target chinks in armor.

“No,” Dazai tries again, more insistent this time. You can hear him speeding up behind you when he realizes you’re going for the elevator. “No, you don’t need to do that. I don’t-I don’t get you. I don’t get this. I don’t get any of this.”

He sounds confused, borderline distressed—you don’t even know what he’s talking about, what he’s so confused and distressed about. How could you? He never explains anything to you, never communicates.

“You don’t get what?” you demand, reaching out for the button of the elevator but Dazai lunges forward to grab your wrist before you can. You finally turn to look at him, catching the way his jaw is tight and the strange emotion swimming in his eye. “You don’t get what, Dazai? Spit it out.”

“Why are you still sleeping with other people?” he asks, voice hitching. “You have me. You don’t need anyone else.”

You can’t help yourself—you laugh in Dazai’s face.

“No way,” you say immediately.

You don’t mean it in the way it comes out. You know it comes out as if you’re saying you’d never sleep with him, but you’re more so saying no way because you can’t believe he has the audacity to say this to you after he just spent weeks avoiding and ignoring you. 

Is this what his issue is? He doesn’t know how to cope with emotions so he evades and lashes out and just expects you to stick around waiting until he grows up? Fuck him. You deserve better than that, you waited long enough, you thought you were done with these games with him.

You don’t miss the way Dazai’s expression crumbles at your words, the way he stares at you, lips parted in disbelief. You don’t correct yourself, a part of you is happy that you can get your own knife in even if you do know you’ll regret it later. 

“What do you mean no?” Dazai’s voice wobbles a bit before he takes half a step back. His fingers are weak around your wrist but he doesn’t let go, feels a lot like a child clinging to their parent’s shirt. “What-I-I’m here. You want it, you were just going to-”

Not that that’s even the issue anymore, but you’re definitely not in the mood now. Honestly, you just want to go to bed. Your head hurts and Dazai is stressing you out and pissing you off all at the same time, plus you have no interest in fucking him when he seems like he’s on the verge of a mental break anyway.

“No, I don’t. I changed my mind,” you say, frustrated. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

“No,” Dazai replies, voice pitched and tinged with something too close to desperation. “No. You want me and I’m here, so you should-”

God, what the fuck is your life? You’re so frustrated that you want to pull your hair out and scream at him.

“Enough, Dazai.” You raise your voice at him. “Enough. I don’t want you. I want to go to bed.”

“No,” Dazai insists and your eyes widen when you feel his grip tighten on your wrist.

“Daz-” You start to say but you can’t even finish his name, cut off by his other hand finding its way to your hip, pressing you back against the closed doors of the elevator as he dips his head down to capture your lips with his own, swallowing your protest before you can even get it out. 

You think absently that you were right earlier when you were letting your thoughts wander to what kissing Dazai would be like. He’s no longer unsure and hesitant with his touches, his lips slide against yours with the expertise of someone who’s spent a lifetime kissing. The hand on your hip slides up your body so that he can hold your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. And you shouldn’t be indulging this, you know that—Dazai pissed you off, he has some nerve calling you a whore and then whoring himself out to you—but his lips are intoxicating, you can hardly think straight with them pressed against yours. 

He has your right hand pinned to the metal behind you, fingers curled tight around your wrist as he holds you in place. The way he kisses you is familiar, almost, and your brows furrow as you try to figure out why until feel his fingers brush through your hair, slow and lingering, dizzying, right before his tongue darts out to swipe across your bottom lip—a pattern of actions that you usually take to make your partners more malleable. 

Did he teach himself this just by observing the way you act with people at events?

You don’t fall for your own tricks though, so instead, your free hand drops to his waist, fingers slipping through his belt loops as you press into him, pushing off the elevator to walk him backwards down the hall to his bedroom. He lets out a surprised noise in the back of his throat, letting you walk him back; his fingers fall from where they’d been around your wrist and you take the opportunity to hook yours around his other belt loop, keeping his body flush to yours until you have his back pressed against his bedroom door.

You notice, a bit absently, that Dazai is a lot more pliant now with you in control. His hands are loose at his sides as if he doesn’t know what to do with them—much like when you shared his first kiss with him—and he still kisses you back, lips moving slowly against yours, but it’s not with the intensity he had when you were pinned to the elevator door.

Strange.

You think kissing Dazai is a lot like a drug, one that you got your first hit of two years ago when you offered to be his first kiss but then never had another chance to get another taste of. You were bitter when he first started following in yours and Chuuya’s footsteps in taking people to bed to unwittingly ease information out of them—you’d find yourself watching him like a hawk as he drew people into secluded corners, as he pressed his lips against theirs and let their hands explore his body. You’d hardly be able to draw your eyes away once, not until he eventually led them out of the area to a bedroom.

You hated it. Truly. You like to tell yourself that you’re not jealous but you know it’s a blatant lie. As much as people would sell their souls to spend a night with you, they’d be just as desperate for one with Dazai because Dazai is Dazai. He’s untouchable. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. The youngest executive in history. He can be smooth and charming, yes, and he’s undoubtedly handsome. But more than that, he’s dark and unfathomable in a way that piques peoples’ interest in a sick and perverted fashion—they want to know what he’s like behind closed doors, they’re terrified of him but they want him, be it because of morbid curiosity or sheer lust.

And you hated that other people got to be with him in ways you couldn’t. Your only consolation seems to be that he had his eyes on you as much as you had yours on him, seeing how he’s pretty much perfectly mimicking the way you kiss and touch people, but you don’t know if that’s just because he was trying to learn through observing you—as he does with everyone—or if he hated watching you with other people just as much-

Oh.

Oh, you’re so stupid.

“You were jealous,” you realize, understanding what had triggered Dazai’s meltdown with the takeout food and insults toward you. Dazai stiffens against the door and you take the opportunity to trail your lips from his down to his jaw. “You were jealous over the guy I had over.”

“No-”

“You were.” You don’t even let him finish the protest, nipping at the spot beneath his ear gently and watching how he shudders. “How cute.”

“It’s not cute.” Dazai bristles. “You-you weren’t supposed-you’re not supposed to keep seeing people. I thought you were done with that. I thought we were-”

“We were what?” you ask coolly. “You avoided me for weeks after we talked, Dazai. Whatever we may or may not have been after we talked at the bar, it’s nothing when you start actively ignoring me for weeks after that.”

“But-”

You’re getting irritated again. “Dazai, you ignored me for weeks. I was pissed off and frustrated. And when I’m pissed off and frustrated, if I don’t have some way to relieve my stress, I do something stupid. Something stupid like putting a bullet in you the next time you stepped into my apartment after actively going out of your way to avoid me.”

“I was going out to get food,” Dazai says sullenly as if you were supposed to know that. “So we could watch a movie.”

“Last I recall, telepathy isn’t exactly part of my ability, Dazai,” you say dryly, calming yourself down by leaning in to brush your lips against his again.

A drug, you think again as the anger melts away when you feel his breath hitch against your lips. You reach behind him to open his bedroom door, guiding him in as you kiss him slowly. He’s fumbling again, unsure what to do with his fingers, clumsily moving his lips against yours until the back of his knees hits the bed, and he goes flopping down back on it. 

You snort at the surprised look on his face, joining him on the bed as you straddle his hips. You hover over him for a second before leaning down to give him another chaste kiss, enjoying the way he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.

“Tell me why you were avoiding me,” you say quietly as you lift a hand to cup his cheek. 

A foul move, you know. Dazai is always weak to gentle touches as much as he tries to pretend otherwise. You’ve noticed it when you watch movies with him and when he curls into bed with you on nights he can’t sleep. Just as you expect, he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering.

“Dazai,” you urge, “tell me why. What did I do?”

You didn’t do anything, you think bitterly, but you figure taking responsibility will be the easiest way to get him talking. You’ll fight about it later.

Dazai, to your surprise, turns his face away from you and your touch, a faraway look in his eye as he stares at the wall.

“You didn’t do anything,” he says. “I just didn’t-”

He cuts himself as if he can’t even bring himself to say it, and you know you have to do something because he seems to be withdrawing even more into his own head, eyes growing more distant with each passing second. You turn his head so that he’s facing you again and you lean down to press your lips briefly against his.

“You didn’t what?” you ask him.

Dazai still looks like he doesn’t want to answer, conflict spreading across his face as he stares up at you before he sighs and averts his gaze. “I don’t understand any of this. I didn’t want to disappoint,” he says so quietly that you barely hear him.

Your brows furrow. 

“Disappoint?” you question, a bit baffled. Dazai has a complex about failure. You know that too, have known it since you were sixteen. He can’t handle it, nothing makes him spiral quite like the idea of failure—you and he are quite similar in that regard—but you don’t understand what he means in this context. “Disappoint with what?”

Dazai doesn’t answer, doesn’t meet your eyes either, and your mind races to figure out what he might be referring to. You recall how he became hesitant and unsure when you finally took control, fingers twitching at his sides, body pliant as you moved him around, almost like a doll for you to maneuver as you pleased.

“Disappoint with this?” you finally realize, watching as he grimaces, confirming your suspicions. Your chest drops. “You avoided me because… you didn’t want to have sex?”

That makes you feel a bit sick to your stomach because what does he think of you if he went to this length to avoid you just because… Dazai’s entire body jolts at your words as if realizing how they came across.

“No,” he pushes out instantly. His hands dart out to cling to your shirt as if he’s worried you’re going to leave. “No, no. I want to. I do. Not just this… just in general. Everything. Me… This is just one part of it… the easiest to make mistakes with. I don’t like making mistakes.”

It’s only mildly reassuring.

“Dazai…” You start to say, pulling away, but his hands dart up to grab your waist so he can hold you in place on top of him. You think maybe the two of you need to talk. Again. “I just, I don’t understand.”

“I want this,” he repeats again, hands sliding down from your waist to curl his fingers around the hem of your shirt. He sees that you’re not convinced by his words so he pushes out a “Please” that nearly stops you in your tracks because you don’t think Dazai Osamu has ever begged for anything in his life.

You lean down to press your lips against his again. You set the pace this time, lifting your hand to cup his cheek—you pull the same move that he tried with you, nails gently scraping his scalp as you brush your fingers through his hair. Dazai melts into it in a way that you didn’t, lashes fluttering and lips parting instinctively, letting you deepen the kiss. Dazai’s breath catches as you push your tongue into his mouth, shivering when you trace the back of his teeth. 

Too pliant. All of the confidence he had earlier when he had you pinned to the elevator is gone. His breath wavers against your lips, and his fingers tremble as he grips at the hem of your button-up. Not a firm grip like you’d have anticipated, with his fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips as he grinds you down on his cock; instead, his fingers are clinging to the fabric as if he’s too overwhelmed to even think of grabbing your body.

“Tell me what you like,” you say quietly, fingers still absently carding through his dark locks as you kiss down his neck. Your other hand slips beneath his dress shirt, smoothing out over the bandages wrapped around his torso. “I want to know, wanna make you feel good.”

Dazai’s lips part to respond to you, but the only thing that escapes them is a pitched gasp—high and cracking in desperation, grip on your shirt so tight that you think he might rip it. He’s already hard, can feel his cock straining against his black pants, pressed against your thigh.

“I don’t-” Dazai’s voice is ragged; he sounds overwhelmed, almost confused. “I don’t know.”

“Hm?” you prod, nipping his neck and relishing in the way his whole body shudders at the feeling. “C’mon, Dazai, you’ve done this before. Tell me what you like.”

His gasp is choked when your hand tightens on his slim waist, lashes fluttering as his eyes roll back. More pliant and more sensitive, you note curiously, kissing back up his neck to tug at his earlobe with your teeth, a shiver running down your spine at the broken moan Dazai lets out into your ear. He jolts, eyes widening and face flushing—he looks as if he’s startled himself by the noise that escaped his lips, and you start to become a bit suspicious.

“I don’t know,” he tells you, sounding confused and frustrated. “I don’t know. It’s never felt like this before. How are you doing that?”

You pause.

You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, pulling your face back from his ear to look at him carefully because why is he acting like he’s never done this before? You know he’s slept around a lot. He picked it up over half a year ago when he got tired of hearing you and Chuuya brag about how easy it is to get things out of people like this. Made a point of making sure you knew about it when you had your boyfriend.

It’s never felt like this before.

Your chest swirls, and you feel a bit disconcerted as his words finally process. It’s never felt like what? Dazai doesn’t know why you’ve stopped, you can feel him tugging at your shirt, hazy eyes trying to focus on you. You wonder if the gears in his head are turning, realizing something might be wrong but unable to pinpoint what.

You kiss him to distract him, deeper this time. You press his head back against the soft pillow, one hand sliding to cradle the back of it as you try to break all of the quick-moving cogs in his brain so you can think in peace, cursing the fact that his mind has always been quicker and sharper than yours.

Dazai is Dazai. He’s smooth, charming—when he wants to, he could seduce anyone into his bed. You’ve watched him do it at events, sidling up close and leaning in to speak to people, dark eye lidded and voice low, a slow smirk curling at his lip as he brushes his finger lightly against the target’s lower back before guiding them out of the room. Christ, he’s nearly flustered you on more than one account. You want to say that he’s not the same kid who was nervous to kiss you two years ago, but he clearly is with how he’s reacting to your kisses and touches right now. But he shouldn’t be—maybe it’s because it’s you he’s with, maybe he’s just nervous because it’s you and not some random person he’s seducing for information.

But that doesn't explain the comment. Doesn’t explain it’s never felt like this before. 

“Never felt like what?” you ask as you kiss the corner of his lips and down his jaw again, all the way to the line of bandages peeking out from his dress shirt. You undo the first few buttons, watching the way his chest rapidly rises and falls under your touch as you smooth your hands over his chest. “Hm?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Dazai says, voice cracking and another breathy sound spilling from his lips as you kiss the underside of his jaw. “It’s just-it’s usually just-it’s not this.”

That doesn’t help you at all, you think. You’re about to press, but your lips on his skin have evidently made Dazai’s lips looser than they typically are because you don’t even have to voice a clarifying question to get him talking again.

“The way you’re touching me. Kissing me. It’s not like this, doesn’t feel so good,” he continues and you can hear the whine building in the back of his throat as he speaks. “It’s just sex.”

You slide his button-up off of his shoulders, revealing his bandaged body to you. You don’t make any move to remove them, but now you stare down at him, a bit perplexed. “This is sex,” you say, voice a bit stunted because you didn’t expect him to say that.

“No,” Dazai says, seemingly equally perplexed by your words, drawn out of the haze of pleasure into a more confused state. “Sex is sex. It’s penetrative.” 

“... Sex isn’t just penetrative, Dazai,” you say, baffled. “This is sex. It’s foreplay.”

Dazai stares at you like he doesn’t even know what that word means.

Oh, you realize, heart sinking as you realize why Dazai is so thrown off by all of this. How has he had sex without foreplay? Sex without foreplay is… it’s boring, not enjoyable at all. More animalistic than anything, borderline painful half of the time. Is that what he’s been doing with all of the people he seduces for information? The thought is a bit jarring, but the more you think about it, the more you think it might make sense. 

Dazai is prodigious when he’s given something that he can study and mimic; can execute flawless imitations of the behaviors he’s trying to learn. He learned the art of leadership from observing Mori. The art of war from observing the Colonel’s operations before his death. Adaptability from observing Kouyou during missions. Business from observing Ace’s meetings and transactions. Seduction from observing you interacting with people during events. Dazai is as terrifying as he is because he’s a perfect amalgamation of the entire upper echelon’s best skill sets. He’s adopted Mori’s mannerisms, the Colonel's strategic capability, Kouyou’s ability to adapt to any situation, Ace’s shrewdness with yen, and your charisma. 

If there’s something he can observe, he can mirror it to near perfection.

So, is it really that surprising to you that the front he puts up during events is just an imitation of how you act with people? That it doesn’t translate behind closed doors? That he had nothing to study and nothing to mimic once seduction progressed to the bedroom, so he let whoever he was with take the lead to try to learn from them in the moment? 

That maybe someone would use his ignorance on the subject against him?

Dazai is Dazai, you think, for the fifth time tonight. He doesn’t watch porn, he doesn’t ask people for help, and this isn’t something Mori would have ever taught him—you know that better than anyone. Mori sheltered Dazai from everything, even tried to keep you away from him; he didn’t want anything or anyone to taint the control he had over his precious Demon Prodigy. While you and Chuuya have had the chance to live, experiencing life and the outside world, Dazai’s been stuck under the watchful eye of the boss, hardly ever out of arm’s reach, caged like a circus animal to be put on display whenever Mori sees fit.  

Of course, Dazai would only see it as another way to get the job done, disregarding his own comfort and pleasure—because when does Dazai Osamu ever care for his own comfort and pleasure? He lived in a fucking shipping container until you dragged him out of it. It’s not a thought that casually crosses his mind, and he wouldn’t think twice once he thinks he has an idea of what’s going on. He doesn’t see things the way you do, was never given the opportunity to understand, taught by Mori to see things as tools and means to an end, even himself.

Dazai can see your mind racing. You know he’s going to put together that something is wrong soon if you don’t move on from this. But it’s hard—it’s a bit fucking jarring to realize that Dazai’s so overwhelmed by your touch because every other time he’s had sex, he’s probably been uncomfortable or even in pain. 

You lean down to kiss him again, halting his thoughts. You place two chaste kisses on his lips, sucking his bottom lip gently before kissing his cheek down to his jaw.

“What all have you done with people?” you ask him, sitting back on his thighs, lacing your fingers with his as you look down at him.

Instantly, his face is on fire. “What does it matter?” he demands, but you can feel his fingers tightening around yours.

You roll your eyes at his obstinateness. “Humor me,” you say dryly. “Are you usually the one leading, or is your partner? Are you the one penetrating or-”

Dazai’s grip on your hands becomes almost painful, so you quiet down, giving him an amused look. Maybe it's an awkward subject, but you want to have a vague idea of what he’s been doing before you do anything.

“... partner is,” he finally tells you, hardly looking you in the eye. It’s kind of cute. “... and only when it’s a woman, but she still takes the lead.”

“Do you want to take the lead tonight?” you ask him, running your thumb over his knuckles to try to get him to loosen his grip. 

He does, but only barely.

“Not tonight,” he says after a few moments.

“Not tonight,” you agree. “Did you prefer topping or bottoming?” 

Dazai thinks for a moment and then says, “Topping. Bottoming was…”

You force yourself not to wince, suspicions confirmed by the way he trails off.

You hum, sliding your hands up and down his bandaged sides soothingly, enjoying the way he slowly relaxes beneath your touch. “That can feel good, too,” you tell him. “I can show you that one day if you’d like.”

Dazai’s brows furrow, pointedly looking down at your clothed lower half as if trying to see through them. Your lips quirk up as he says, “But you don’t have a-”

“There are ways to work around that,” you snort, hands finally resting at his hips, drawing circles over his protruding hip bones. 

“… Not tonight,” he finally repeats.

“Not tonight,” you agree again.

You lift your hands back to his cheeks, holding his face between them as you kiss him again. You kiss him deeper this time, rolling your hips against his to make his breath hitch. You drag the tip of your tongue against the roof of his mouth—he tastes like cigarettes and faintly of whiskey. Tastes familiar. Like home.

You think you could kiss Dazai forever and never find yourself sick of it. Kissing him is like a drug, you think again. Kissing him gives you butterflies in a way that you’ve only ever experienced with him when you were sixteen, and giving him his first kiss. 

Kissing him is like coming home after being away for years. 

He kisses you back clumsily, all of the finesse he had earlier in the night long gone. His teeth nearly knock against yours, it’s a bit too wet and a bit too messy, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. You smile against his lips before pulling away to kiss the corner of his lips, nipping his skin when he lets out a shaky breath against your ear.

Your hands slide down his body to the waistband of his pants, fingers slipping beneath before you look up at him questioningly. “Can I?” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.

“How else are we going to do this?” Dazai counters petulantly.

Brat, you think to yourself, a bit fondly. Thoughts race through your mind but you push them away—maybe another night. You don’t respond to him, raising your eyebrows and waiting for a verbal response.

His cheeks dust pink as he says, “Yes.”

You work quickly to unbutton his pants, patting his thigh so he lifts his hips. You trail kisses down his bandaged chest as you slide off his pants. He’s very responsive to your touch, each kiss makes his breath stutter, you can feel it in the way his chest rises and falls and it only makes you want to watch him fall apart more.

“Are the bandages okay?” Dazai asks after a few moments when you kiss down to his navel. You look up at him, brows furrowed, catching the hesitant expression on his face, dark eye trained on you. “Do you want them off?”

“Do you want them off?” you throw back at him, squinting up at him.

Dazai stares at you for a moment before he shakes his head, a strange expression on his face—you wonder if he was worried you’d ask him to take them off, wonder if his other partners made comments about it, pushed him to remove them. 

You wonder if it’s part of the reason why he avoided you for so long: he wasn’t ready for you to see him without them but thought you would ask him to take them off.

You leave it at that though, returning to kissing down to his hip bone, nipping the skin there and watching how his body jerks a bit in surprise. You let out a puff of laughter against his skin before you ease his briefs off, freeing his cock from where it was straining against the cloth—the soft ones you’d bought him when you’d found his rough, tattered ones in your washing machine a few months after he first moved into your apartment. 

You don’t usually find cocks pretty—they all mostly look the same—but Dazai’s is. Long, not too thick, his tip is flushed a pretty pink color and a vein runs along the underside. He’s leaky too, precum drips down from his tip, right along that vein and you want to taste him, so you do.

You lean in to press your lips against his length, sucking gently on the vein before kissing up to his tip. A bit too salty for your taste, probably because of his shitty diet, but you don’t mind because the pitched moan that tumbles from his lips makes up for the taste entirely. You peek up, breath catching at the sight of his head tossed back against the pillow, swollen lips parted in a pretty moan and long lashes fluttering. He looks stunning, you wish you could take a picture—maybe another night.

You think all of his previous partners have severely missed out.

“Ah,” he gasps. “Shit, shit-”

Even with just your lips wrapped around his tip, you can feel Dazai’s cock twitching in your mouth—you wonder if he’s already on the edge. You can see the way his abdomen is spasming beneath the bandages, how his fingers are curling around the soft sheets beneath him. You don’t want him to finish yet, you want him inside you when he cums, so you only spare a few chaste kisses trailing up and down his length before sitting up straight again. 

Immediately, he tosses you an accusing look. Bottom lip pushed out, cheeks flushed the same pretty pink as his tip. “Why-”

You silence him by pressing your lips against his. This kiss is lewder than your last, you push the bit of precum you’d gathered on your tongue into his mouth as you unbutton your own slacks. He makes a noise into your mouth but you don’t pull away until you feel him swallow. You smile against his lips before you pull back to slip off your own pants, watching his face twist.

“Yuck,” he says, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue. “Tastes bad.”

“Have been telling you to start eating more fruits and vegetables,” you tell him, flicking his thigh as you shimmy out of your slacks and toss them to the side. “You don’t listen.”

The smile he tosses up at you is familiar, a welcome change from the distress and confusion that’s been plaguing him most of the night. “You’ve been thinking about what my cum tastes like for that long? Pervert.”

“More like I’ve been thinking about how high your cholesterol must be with how much canned crab and buttered bread you eat,” you say dryly, returning to where you’d been straddling his waist.

You lift your hands up, beckoning him to take them. He does, reaching up to lace his fingers with yours. A smile curves at your lips as you lean over him, pinning his hands to the mattress on either side of his head as you kiss him again. 

Your chest feels light in a way that it hardly ever does when you’re fucking someone, fluttering in the same way it was when you first kissed him two years ago. Usually when you’re sleeping with someone, it’s all about keeping up appearances. Flirty, sensual, seductive, you’re always more focused on the task at hand than you are enjoying yourself, this is… different. You mean, it always feels good—you know how to make sure it feels good for you while getting the job done—but this…

Feels like home, you think again. Being with Dazai feels like home and it scares you a bit because he’s so flighty and unpredictable but you push away the fear to kiss him harder. You have him now, that’s what matters.

“I like canned crab and buttered bread.” Dazai pouts as he mumbles against your lips.

“Shut up,” you tell him.

You feel him smile and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say so you cut him off by reaching down to position his cock at your entrance. Instantly, he chokes over a moan and your lashes flutter, feeling him slide between your folds. 

Shit, you hadn’t even realized how wet you were, too caught up in trying to make sure Dazai was feeling good, but now with the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed against your clit and his length firm against your core, your abdomen feels all hot and tight, head fuzzy.

You keep your forehead pressed to his, noses nudging, sharing the same sliver of air as you roll your hips, letting out a soft moan against his lips when his tip presses against your hole. Each breath he lets out hitches into a soft whine at the end, a glassy look to his eye. You don’t sink down on him yet, feeling how his grip on your hands tightens, how his breath becomes shuddered and his gaze becomes lidded.

You wonder maybe if he can cum just from the feeling of his tip pushing inside you—maybe another night.

“Please,” he breathes out for the second time tonight and who are you to deny him?

You don’t kiss him as you sink down on his cock, eyes fluttering shut when you feel how his cock stretches your walls—you want to hear him, hear the way he gasps, the way his breath catches, you want to hear his moans and whimpers. He tries to chase your lips but you keep them just out of reach until he gives up, fingers tightening around yours and hips jerking up.

“‘s so tight,” Dazai gasps as you rock your hips slowly against his. “Feels s’good.”

“Yeah?” you press, breathless. 

You distract yourself from the rapidly spreading heat by kissing his neck, letting go of one of his hands to bring it to his cheek, watching as he instinctively leans into your touch, hardly able to hold his eye open. He presses a sloppy kiss to your palm, hand coming up to hold yours to his face.

“Yeah,” he says shakily, lashes drooping and lips parting in another silent moan. “Feels…”

“Feels what?” you ask him, kissing the other side of his neck before trailing wet kisses up to his opposite cheek, feeling him shudder as you tug his earlobe.

“Right,” Dazai tells you, dark eye glazed over as he looks at you, lips wet and swollen and so entirely kissable that you can’t help yourself from leaning down to steal another from him. “Feels right.”

You wonder if Dazai feels just as at home with you as you do with him and that thought is enough to make you rock your hips. 

The noise that Dazai lets out is obscene and pornographic, pitched and breathy. You can hardly appreciate the lewd expression on his face—his hair matted to his forehead, eyes half-rolled back and lips parted in a pretty ‘o’—because the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls nearly has you tumbling over the edge.

Shit, you think to yourself, desperately trying to rein in the rapidly building pleasure. Shit, what the fuck?

You never cum this quickly—usually you have to slip your hand between the sweat slicked bodies of you and your partner to rub circles around your clit so you can bring yourself over the edge at the same time as him. You don’t think you’ve ever come from penetration alone—but the stretch of Dazai’s cock, the feeling of his tip bullying deep into your cunt, the sound of skin on skin and his pretty moans, it all goes right to your head and to your pussy, the telltale signs of your thighs tensing and your abdomen tightening warning you that you’re close already.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, voice shaky. “You’re so…”

You don’t even know what you're trying to say, mind becoming increasingly more empty of thought as you rock your hips again, setting a steady pace. Dazai chokes over air beneath you, the hand still intertwined with yours squeezing hard while the other one drops from the hand you have on his face to claw the bed sheets.

You feel his cock twitch inside you, the way his moans are becoming louder and lewder, the way his head falls to the side, face half pressed into the pillow, eyes knocked back, body arched. Dazai’s already so gone that you think any second he’ll cum deep inside of you and that thought alone makes your body shudder. 

You grab the hand clawing at the bed sheets, guiding it between your bodies as you bounce on his cock. You can feel his hazy gaze trying to figure out what you’re doing but you’re more focused on guiding his finger to rub circles around your clit.

As soon as the pressure is placed on the sensitive nub, your hips are stuttering and a gasp is tearing from your lips. Dazai’s choking when he feels your walls spasm around him, hips thrusting up erratically to meet each of your rocks, but he’s just barely coherent enough to keep his finger rubbing circles on your clit.

Your breath becomes heavy and shaky, the pace of your hips quickening, fire spreads through you so rapidly that it’s impossible to control.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp when you feel yourself tipping over the edge, eyes trying to focus on Dazai’s face and the sight you’re met with is enough to push you over the edge.

Dazai’s jaw is slack, drool pooling at the corner of his lips, the white of his eye just barely visible, cheeks flushed a deep red. He's babbling out incoherent words: you can just barely make out your name, s’good, too tight, too much, and I’m gonna-

And then you’re choking over your own moan when you feel Dazai finish inside of you, cum warm and heavy as he fucks it deep in your cunt. His lithe body trembles beneath you, tense and arched, holding your hand so tight that you think he might break it, and your vision goes white as you cum on his cock, mind blank when the taut cord snaps within you, nails digging into Dazai’s skin.

Dazai’s cock is still twitching inside of you when you slump onto his chest, tremors still spreading through his body. You tilt your head up to ghost your lips against his jaw before sliding off of him, laying on the bed next to him. You feel empty without him inside you but you distract yourself by lifting your hand to his cheek again, tilting it to the side and forcing him to look at you.

More emotion swims in Dazai’s eye than you’ve seen him express in the entire two years you’ve known him, he looks at you so reverently that you can almost imagine three words spilling from his lips, breathy and adoring. You know he won’t say them, but it’s a nice thought, you think. You lean in to ghost your lips against his briefly, the tips of your fingers carding through his dark curls. You want to say something but you don’t know what.

Well. You do know what but you can’t say it.

“You wanted me soooooo bad,” Dazai finally says, a bit more clarity returning to his eye as his lips curl up. “I knew it, you wanted me so bad.”

“You’re so annoying,” you tell him but your voice is fond and you can’t help yourself from shifting forward to press your lips against his. You feel him smile against your lips and that warm, fluttery feeling returns.

Home. 

“You love it,” Dazai sings, nipping your cheek. 

A bit longingly, you think, I do.

Instead, you roll on top of him to straddle his hips, pressing your lips against his again. 

“You wish.”

[catssluvr]

𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, emily prentiss

s16/17!emily prentiss x fem!reader

you drunk call emily

warnings: r being suggestive, r is wipped lol, so much fluff 🤍

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Emily rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, the computer screen in front of her making her eyes sting from the brightness. Working for the FBI was never easy but being unit chef felt like an impossible task sometimes. She hadn´t even noticed everyone leave the office at some point and the way it was pitch black outside, the clock hitting midnight.

The sudden buzz of her phone made her let out a frustrated sigh, but soon her expression turned smiley as she saw the familiar picture of you snuggling sergio against your cheek pop up on her screen. You had went out for a girls night with Pen and JJ at the bar so she could imagine that by now you were probably tipsy - if not slightly more than that. She had been tempted to join you two, especially with you looking at her with puppy dog eyes while begging her to go but she didn´t have other choice but to decline it.

Picking up the device, she quickly answered the call with a sweet, "Hey angel, what's up?" Not missing the way your drunk giggles sounded immediately after.

"Ems, hi!" You said, making an effort to sound composed but failing miserably. "I miss you sooo much." You stated between giggles and Emily could hear Garcia´s voice teasing you for being so lovey.

"Yeah, love?" She mumbled softly, still trying to figure out the reason behind this random call but having a light guess.

"Mhm, so much 'Mily." Your words were slured and she had to hold the urge to chuckle at the state you were currently in.

"Well, i miss you too. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" She asked, pressing the phone against her ear and supporting it her shoulder as she closed her laptop.

"Uhmm.." Your voice showed confusion before JJ whispered something to you, what Emily assumed was her reminding you of the reason behind the call. "Oh- right! Could you please pick me up? I know you're working- i'm so sorry-"

"I'll be on my way, angel. Stay right where you are, kay?" She interrupted your rambling before you could continue, keeping her voice as soft as possible. She did have work to do, but truth is you were way more important than all that. And she already felt bad enough for turning you down earlier.

"Kay Ems.. love you." You whispered with a hiccup.

"I love you, now stay close to Garcia and JJ and i'll be there in no time." She said before hanging up and quickly gathering her things before leaving the office.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You huffed grumply, sleepines hitting you as you burried your face in Penelope's shoulder. Your mind was hazy, only thing in your mind being Emily as you waited for her outside the bar. Even if the alcohol in your blood was making everything feel more dramatic than it was, you did miss her.

"Don't worry peach, she'll be here soon." Pen comforted you, runing a hand through your hair with her colorful nails.

You sniffled softly, the booze and sleepiness making you overly emotional. But before the tears started breaming in your eyes, you catched the glimpse of the gray haired woman walking out of her car and walk towards you.

"Ems! You're heree-" You ran to hug her, fingers grabing her long coat and nose nuzzling her neck and collarbone. "You smell so so good, always do." You mumbled innocently, ignoring the two girls standing right there and focusing on the way Emily's chest moved as she chuckled at your clinginess.

"Hello to you too, angel. Ready to go?" Her hands gently tucked the strands of hair that fell on your face behind your ears, giving you a pleased smile when you nod. "You two need a ride home?" She asked the two girls standing in front of you.

"Nah we´re okay, just felt like a good idea to call you to come and get your lighthead girlfriend." JJ chuckled and Penelope soon followed, quickly sending you goodbyes before disappearing into the bar again.

"Weirdos." Emily snorted with a smile before her atention returned to you. You were currently pressed up against her, your arms had sneaked their way inside her coat in attempt to warm yourself up from the chilly weater of the night.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get you inside the car so you can warm up." She pulled you with her as you both started walking towards the car, struggling slightly as you were holding onto her arm like a koala.

"You're so pretty Ems, did ya know?" You pressed pecks to her jaw as you spoke, cheeks pink from the booze. Your gestures were no suprise to her, you tended to get overly affectionate when drunk. "I love eyes and your cute lips..." You went on as you pressed kisses against her cheek and the corner of her lips.

"Yeah? What else?" She urged you to continue, her voice humurous as you approached the car.

"Oh- your hair, love your hair. Looks so good like this." Your fingers clumsly played with her silver hair, lovingly gazing at her. Emily knew exactly what you meant by this, she had been reluctant to embrace the natural color of it but now she wouldn't even think of painting it again, not after the way you looked at her.

She guided you inside the car, gently kissing your forehead as she buckled your seatbelt. "Ugh and your nose- so pretty- gorgeous. Dunno how you could ever not like it. It feels so good when you´re-"

"Okay love i think i got it, thank you." She interrupted before you could get any further with details, but you didn't fail to notice the way her cheeks reddened at your last unfinished phrase, giggling at her sudden shyness.

As soon as she got in the driver's seat, your hand was grabbing hers, playing with her fingers as an effort to stay awake. Your eyes droppy and your head slightly lulling to the side - which she couldn't help but chuckle at before her eyes focused on the road ahead.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Unlocking the door to her appartment, Emily turned on the lights before pulling you to her room. You jumped on her bed before she could try to stop you, snuggling up to the pillow she slept in. "Hey none of that, we have to change your clothes and take off that makeup." She grabbed your calves as gently as possible, pulling you to edge of the bed, giving you a look that you knew meant she wasn't gonna let you sleep before you did what she said.

"Ugh okay, mom." You sassed before dragging yourself to her closet, rummaging through her pyjamas. "But just so you know, i'm using your clothes." You mumbled out with a joking tone.

"I'll get you some water." She said as she exited the room.

When she got back she was not suprise to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, half asleep with an unused makeup wipe in you hand.

"Here, let me do that angel." She sighed and took the wipe from you, softly wiping your makeup with one hand as the other held your head so she could sucessfully clean your face.

"All done." She mumbled after a momet, tapping your thigh as she helped you out of the counter. Her hands softly rubbed your arms before leading you into the bedroom and inside the comfy covers of her bed.

After making you take a few sips of water, she joined you in the bed, puling you against her chest. Her arms wrapped around your hips, gently running her fingers up and down the fabric of her your pyjamas.

"Thank you for taking care of me, i love you Em." You whispered sleepily before falling into slumber, head nestled against her chest and finger lightly grabbing at her shirt.

"I love you, sweet girl." She smiled against your hair, her own eyes starting to feel heavy.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

a/n: i wrote this when i was sick and i lowkey hate it 😭

anyway emily deserves some love and hapiness in these last few seasons so i had to 🫶🏻

love you,

cat 🤍

[iluvmattsbeard]

older (m.s)

master list

student! matt sturniolo x professor! reader

warnings: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing

preview: 18 year old student Matt is a freshman in college. you are his professor who is 28 years old. Matt is a phenomenal student. but during lectures, he can’t help but check out his professor, fantasizing about you. you tell him it’s unprofessional for you to pay more attention to him than any other student. you also tells him you're too old for him which, he tries to prove to you you're wrong.

*not proof read*

a/n: i’m doing a collab with @mwahsturns ! go check out her version of Matt being the professor, click here ,this is my version of the reader being professor! i’m so glad I had the opportunity of working with her. she is lovely and absolutely amazing overall. i hope to do this again. if anyone would also like to collab with me in the future, let me know!

even though Matt was pursuing his YouTube career with his brothers, Matt wanted to do something on his own. in videos, he is known to spread light on mental health and anxiety. as he did some research, he found a community college that fit his standards. he wanted to major in psychology and hopefully see where it takes him. his brothers supported his decision and he couldn't be anymore excited. he enrolled himself and got in immediately. today was his first day and he was currently packing his back pack. "are you sure you'll be able to handle all of this?" his brother Nick asks. Matt was in the middle of shoving his books in his bag, "yes Nick. i'll be okay. i'm just going to see if this is right for me. if it's not, then i'll stick to YouTube." he responds while zipping up the bag in front of him.

"okay I was just making sure." Nick says getting up from the bar stool in the kitchen. "alright, i'm all set. i'll see you guys later." Matt says putting on the back pack and picking up his car keys. Chris and Nick both say good bye to him and he walks out, heading to his car. as soon as he put the address in his navigation, he noticed the estimated arrival time and muttered under his breath, "fuck." it was not going to be a good first impression he thought. when he finally got on campus, he headed straight to his class. he got to the door and opened it, walking inside to see all the students turn and look at him. "you're late." he hears a woman say. he turns to look at you. you had your back facing towards the class as you wrote something on the whiteboard.

you turn around and he locks eyes with yours. "what's your name?" you ask walking over to your desk. "Matthew." he says eyeing you. "okay Matthew, you may take a seat. I'll let it slide since it's your first day." you respond looking up from your computer to catch his stare. Matt nods and walks to an empty seat. he didn't expect his professor to look the way you did. he looked at the board to see your name. "miss L/n..." he whispers to himself. Matt kept his eyes on you as you spoke, "Matthew, you can ask the person next to you to copy their notes that I previously had up. go over it and try to catch up okay?" Matt nods and does as you say. as he took notes, he couldn't help but get distracted by the professor. your white button up shirt with your hair both placed in front of your shoulders, your long black pencil skirt, stockings, and black heels. he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

as time went by, Matt was always on top of his work. his focus was always there in lectures. he didn't really find the subject of the class all that interesting but, his professor was all he cared about. he wanted to stand out and to do so, he needed to focus on what you were teaching about so he could stay on top. Matt was never good in school but, this was different. after one of the lectures, he decided to stick around as other students left. "is there something you need Matthew?" you ask looking up at him. he was still sat in his seat as he clears his throat, "i'm having a little trouble accessing some material at home." he says lying. "let me take a look." you suggest to him. he gets up and walks over to you with his laptop. "you can call me Matt by the way." he adds on as he places the laptop in front of you. you smile a bit, "good to know." you respond and looks at his screen.

you began to open up the material that he claimed wasn't working. you look at him, "are you sure it wasn't working at home?" you ask. "it wasn't last night. I guess you have the magic touch." he says causing you to laugh, "I guess so. anything else you need help with?" you ask. he shakes his head, "not that I know of." he says taking his laptop off the desk. he starts to walk away but you call out to him, "wait Matt." he turns around and looks at you, "yes?" he asks. you stand up from your chair and smile, "I just want to tell you i'm highly impressed by your work. every single assignment you turn in, is beyond what I ask for." you complimented him. Matt grins before speaking, "I am being taught well." you laugh, "thank you. that just means i'm doing my job." you say clasping your hands together in front of you.

as more lectures go by, he couldn't help but start to fantasize about you. he started to imagine how he would look impressing you with something else he's good at beyond his assignments. the way you spoke, he could just imagine the way you would whisper in his ear. Matt would eye your buttoned shirt and imagine how he would undo it. his thoughts were soon interrupted by the professor clearing your throat, "Matt?" you call out. he gulps and looks up at your eyes instead of your blouse, "make sure you're paying attention." you say tapping on his desk before walking away. after class, you ask him to stick around. "are you okay?" you question him. he was sat across from you, "yes i'm fine. why?" he asks. you laugh a bit, "I could tell your mind was wondering off somewhere else. I just wanted to know if something was bothering you." you say as he stares at you. "oh yeah, i'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to." he responds.

"that's okay, just let me know what's on your mind next time." she suggests. Matt nods and it stays quiet for a bit. "how'd you get into teaching?" he asks breaking the silence. "it's a long story." you say laughing a bit. he has this blank face as he speaks, "I have time." your smile fades a bit as you let out a little breath, "well, it wasn't my first choice. I wanted to pursue in something more creative but to my parents it was more of a dream than a reality. I decided to get into education and well here I am." you continued to ramble but he catches you off guard with his next question, "what's your name?" you look at him, "that's a sudden question. my name is Y/n but don't get use to that." you say. "how old are you, Y/n?" he asks curiously and boldly. "none of your business." you respond as he grins, "i'm just trying to get to know you." you hesitate but eventually tell him, "i'm 28." you mutter out.

"are you married?" he asks making your eyes widen a bit, "no but, that's a very personal question. this is starting to get inappropriate." you say getting up from your chair. Matt gets up as well, "it's inappropriate to try to get to know you?" he asks. you turn to look at him, "it's inappropriate because i'm your teacher. i'm not somebody you need to know better." you respond. he puts on his back pack and smiles, "only innocent." he says walking out the classroom leaving you standing there alone.

a few days later, you were at your desk grading assignments as you notice Matt's work getting sloppy. you ask him to stay after class and he does so. it was all apart of his plan. "Matt, your recent assignments have been painfully hard to grade. you were doing good not too long ago, why are you being lazy with your work?" you ask in a serious tone. "i'm not quite sure. why don't you want me to get to know you?" he asks catching you off guard. "Matthew, we're talking about your work here." you say wanting to stick to the serious conversation. "are you scared Y/n?" he asks making you fix your posture, "it's miss L/n to you." you remind him. "answer my question. are you scared you might enjoy talking to me?" he says. "it's inappropriate." you say repeating yourself from last time. "is it inappropriate to ask what you like to drink?" he asks tilting his head a bit with a small smile.

"mainly iced coffee." you answer hoping to move on from the conversation, "now can we talk about your work?" you ask hoping he would cooperate but, he gets up and puts on his back pack, "i'll fix it." he says before walking out leaving you once again, in shock. you sat there wondering why he was acting the way he was.

the next day, you had your back facing the class as you wrote a check list on the board. as soon as you turned around, you do a double take of the iced coffee that was placed on your desk. you look up from it, eyeing Matt as he just grins and looks away to unzip his bag. unbelievable you thought. after the lecture, you ask him stick around as everyone else leaves. "Matt, don't start this." you say sternly. "what? I can't get you coffee for being a good teacher?" he says with a sly smile. you sigh, "that's nice of you but I know what you're doing." you say with your arms crossed. "what am I doing?" he asks not taking his eyes off of you. "you're trying to flatter me." you mutter out. he laughs and puts on his back pack. he looks at you up and down and greets you good bye as he walks out. "what are you up to..." you whisper to yourself.

when Matt arrived home, he began to do his assignments. "how has school been?" Chris asks before taking a sip of his Pepsi. Matt's eyes stayed on his computer, "not much to talk about." he says. Chris rolls his eyes a bit, "nice talking to you." he says. "there is this girl." Matt lets out. "who?" Chris asks now very interested. Matt looks at him, "none of your business." he laughs to himself as he remembers you telling him that. "then why bring it up?" Chris says with a blank face. Matt just laughs again and shakes his head.

the next few days, you start to notice Matt's work going back to being astounding. how is that possible? how did he do it so quickly? Matt continued to get you iced coffee every day. other students were starting to notice. as you sat there, you continue to look at Matt's work and you started to put the pieces together. the coffee, the inappropriate behavior, and he was purposely being sloppy before. you shut your computer as you look at him already staring at you. you felt a sort of shiver go down your spine as this look was different. his eyes were captivating in a way that made you feel disappointed in yourself for even thinking that. you look away and begin your lecture. after, you ask Matt to stick around once more.

"were you being sloppy on purpose?" you ask standing in front of his desk. "maybe." he responds with the same sly smile like always. you let out a sigh, "Matt, why are you doing this?" you ask. "doing what?" he asks trying to be innocent. you turn around and pick up the iced coffee on your desk, "the coffee every day, you wanting to get to know me, asking personal questions, and now I realize you were purposely trying to stay after class." you let out making him lean back in his seat. "and the question you asked the other day. if I was scared that i'll enjoy talking to you? seriously?" you add on.

he looks down and shakes his head with a smile. "what is so funny?" you question with your arms crossed. he looks back up at you, "do you really want to know?" he says. "yes I do." you respond waiting for him to explain. he sits up a bit as he places his arms on the desk, "I think about you constantly." he pauses for a bit, "do you think I wanted to fantasize about my professor?" he asks. you uncross your arms and gulp, "no one asked you to." you say. he laughs a bit, "yeah well I do. you make it hard for me to focus." he says making you look away, "then maybe you should transfer into a different class Matt." you suggest.

"are you sure you want that?" he says making you look at him. it stays quiet for bit as you both locked eyes. you look away quickly and turn around, "I can't do this." you say walking up to your desk. Matt gets up and walks behind you. you stop in front of your desk, placing your hands onto it. Matt gets closer behind you as he presses up against you slightly. you look ahead of you as you felt his presence. Matt moves your hair away by tucking it behind your ear as he gets closer to your ear. you gulp as you stand still, "are you sure you want me gone from your class Miss L/n?" he whispers in your ear. you felt a shiver roll down your spine, "i'm too old for you Matt." you whisper still looking ahead of you. "I'm of age you know." he lets out. "i'm still 10 years older than you..." you reply but he just continues, "just because I'm young, doesn't mean I don't know how to handle you." you let out a breath as he starts to run his hands on your waist, down to your hips.

"i'm your professor Matt..." you whisper. he smirks, "I know. but I can also teach you things." he says turning you around. he steps closer as you lean a bit against the desk, "like what?" you ask looking into his eyes. he picks you up by your waist as he places you on the desk. he was now standing in between your legs as he looks down at you, "I can teach you what it's like to feel good." he whispers. you gulp without breaking eye contact, "Matt..." you whisper back. he places his hands on your face as he pulls you in slowly, closer to his face. your lips were nearly touching, "tell me, do you want that?" he asks. you were filled with mixed emotions. the way you two were, if someone walked in, it would've been obvious what's about to happen. Matt rubs your cheek softly, "use your words." he says in a low tone. his words became more demanding as his eyes grew dark. "teach me then..." you whisper out. he immediately presses his hungry lips onto yours as he kept his hands on your face. your hands were placed on the desk as you leaned into the kiss.

you knew this was wrong but, it felt so right. Matt moves his hands down to your thighs as he places a good grip on them. he pulls you closer, making his grown erection touch your core. you moan out quietly from the sudden action as he then starts to unbutton your shirt slowly as he continues to kiss you with the same eagerness. you buck your hips a bit against his clothed cock as he finally got your shirt to come undone. he then pulls it open, moving it behind your shoulders. now you were mostly revealed at top as your blouse was low on your elbows.

he moves his lips to your neck as he places wet kisses, he begins to suck your skin as he finds your sweet spot, causing you to throw your head back a bit as your eyes went shut. Matt then moves away and looks down at your skirt. he pulls it up slowly, revealing your black lace panties. he begins to kneel down as he pulls them down. you look down at him as he makes eye contact with your wetness. "already so wet for me." he says before moving his head closer in between your legs. he spreads your legs apart slightly as he started to work his way to lick your folds.

your breathing started to go uneven as you let out a breath. he began to tongue the inside of your entrance as you kept your eyes on him. you ran your hand through his hair as you moan quietly. you don't remember the last time someone pleased you. he starts to run his tongue up and down your entrance as your eyebrows furrowed, making your mouth open slightly. the mixture of the wetness of his tongue and your natural wetness was driving you crazy. his tongue worked like magic. he then began to flick his tongue onto your clit as he stuck two digits into your core. you moan from the stimulation as your thighs started to close in. Matt looks up at you as he watches your face change from the way he was moving. his fingers started to go in and out of you as he then started to swirl his tongue around your throbbing clit.

you grip his hair even more as you kept eye contact with him. he was loving the view he had. the way your mouth kept letting out beautiful noises, he knew he was living up to his words. you buck your hips, wanting more from him. he removes his fingers from inside of you and pulls away. he stands back up and licks his lips. "you seemed to enjoy that." he says. "you're looking like you don't mind anymore miss L/n." he lets out as he starts to unbutton his pants. you look at his crotch as he pulls down his pants with his boxers. you felt yourself in between your legs ache. you needed him badly. he strokes his cock as he makes you look at him in the eyes, "do you still think you're too old for me?" he asks, "look how hard you made me." he adds on.

he then grabs you under your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he rubs his tip at your entrance. "M-Matt..." you whine out. "if only you could look at yourself right now. not so inappropriate now huh?" he says with a grin. he then pushes himself into you as you throw your head back from the way he began to stretch you out, "fuck." Matt moans out lowly. you moan at the way he started to thrust slowly. you didn't know if you could take all of him but, he made sure you did. he starts to thrust harder into you as he pushes himself deeper into you. you wrap your legs around him as you pull him into a kiss. he kisses back as he now starts to pound into you. this made you moan in between kisses. your one hand rested around his neck as the other gripped behind his hair.

"keep it down." he says while going back to kiss you, muffling your moans. you shut your eyes as you melt under him. he loved the way he was stuffing you right now. he was finally fulfilling his imagination. you started to push against his thrusts as he gripped your thighs. his thrusts were deep, making your eyes fog up. you didn't know it was possible to feel this good. especially, from your student. he pulls away from the kiss, biting your lip softly. he pushes you down onto the desk, causing some stuff to fall off. he puts your legs together as he continues to thrust at a fast pace. you cover your mouth as you moan into your hands. the position he had you in hurt so good. "fuck i'm going to cum." he groans. "m-me too." you moan out. he spreads your legs and places his thumb on your clit as he started to rub in circles. you were a moaning mess as you gripped onto the edge of the desk.

Matt then releases in you after one last hard thrust. you both cum at the same time. he thrusts out his high as he pulls out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you. he grins feeling accomplished. you sat up on the desk as you caught up with your breathing. Matt pulls up his boxers and pants, buttoning it back up. he grabs his back pack and puts it on. he looks at you still on the desk as he smiles, "i'll keep this a secret." he says before walking out.

a/n: turned myself on 💀 LIKES, COMMENTS, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[leclercstars]

lando fic🙏🙏 size kink and pushing down on her lower stomach while he's inside!!?

Obsessed with this one. This might be my fave thing I've ever written so thank you to whoever requested this.

house of balloons.

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: 18+!! smut, hate sex, slight degradation and dom!Lando, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex.

“Get a grip,” you snapped as you strutted away from the bar. Now you had to wait to get another vodka lemonade. There was a viciousness to everything about you in that moment, from your facial expression to the way you sat and rejoined your friend group.

“What was that?” your best friend knew everything about your life, and you knew she was asking just to get a rise out of you.

“What do you fucking think? I thought him and his friends had stopped going here.”

“Well breaking news: that is not the case,” one of your other friends chuckled. 

“Ugh, I just cannot deal with this tonight,” you sat back in the the booth and groaned, pulling out your phone in hopes of avoiding more conversation about the topic.

“I should start making you that angry more often.” read the text that suddenly lit up your screen.

You hated Lando, and he hated you right back. Ever since freshman year you could not stand his “holier than thou” level arrogance and the way he always had to find a way to push your buttons in whatever setting you two were in. From class, to the bar all the way to the time you two ended up in the therapy waiting room together. 

“Okay Lando pls stfu. Dealing with you tonight was enough.” You had gotten into a heated argument with him in the bar, which you suddenly could not remember the subject of, pondering his last text in your head.

“I think I know how to fix our little problem”

What could he possibly mean by that. No way was he about to suggest sex.

“And what might that be?” you chuckled to yourself, noticing that your friends were peering over at your phone screen. Little snoops.

“Let’s leave.” Yep, there it was. He thinks fucking will somehow be the answer to your now four-year battle with each other. You had made each other’s lives a living hell. One time you fought so bad you both started crying, in public. Not the finest moment for either of you. But you thought more and more about his proposition. Sometimes he stared at you a little too long when you wore one of your skimpy going out tops, especially that lace corset, which of course you happened to be wearing tonight. He stood a little close to you to whisper insults in your ear, and occasionally slid a hand to the small of your back when you were standing next to each other. Maybe this was the answer. Besides, hate sex actually sounded kind of fun. 

“If you really want to do this then come over to the booth and I’ll get up and leave with you.” If this was really his master plan, you were going to make sure everyone knew about it. You weren’t gonna let him get away with lying about this little inchident later. It took him less than 2 minutes to appear at your table, hand extended towards you, a mischievous look painted all over his face.

“See ya around!” he waved to your friends as he dragged you out the bar.

“I better be getting a text about this later” you looked back at your friends' aghast expressions. They were looking at you as if you had just been shot through the head.

It didn’t take long to get to Lando’s shitty college house. You argued the whole way there. You almost shoved him in front of a moving car on accident. Maybe that would make the sex better.

He led you up to his bedroom, a surprisingly gentleman-ly gesture. The only light came from the dim glow of his computer monitor, casting a red ambiance over the entire room. How perfect, you thought.

“Let’s just get all that anger out, huh?”

“Worth a shot.” you smirked before inching closer and closer to him. The space between you two held so much tension, a pit of horniness, rage and frustration. He grabbed your face with both hands, his lips crashing into yours. You had never kissed someone with this much passion before. Neither of you knew how to keep your hands to yourself, but why bother. His hands explored every single inch of you, places that very few people had ever touched. He had already unhooked your bra effortlessly, your soft tits pressing against his chiseled chest. Fuck, he actually was kind of sexy all this time. He started gently biting your lower lip, causing you to moan into him. You could not be the only one moaning in this situation, so naturally you started palming his growing erection over his boxers. 

“Shit,” he whispered softly before groaning, his lips never leaving your face. There was a neediness, a hunger to the way you were touching each other. An intensity, a fury, and unfortunately one of the most erotic things you had ever experienced. 

He picked you up and threw you back onto the bed, the harshness of it turning you on even more.

You covered your pussy with your hands- giggling. You couldn’t help it, teasing him felt like the right thing to do in this scenario.

“Oh that’s not gonna work. I’m gonna fuck that little attitude right out of you.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try, pal.” your sly expression just making him angrier and angier.

He pinned your hands above your head as you laughed, loving that he was really taking it as a challenge. He slid his boxers off with his free hand.

Holy fuck. You had NEVER seen a dick that big. He was absolutely massive. Your confidence faltered for just a second, thinking that even though he was so much larger than you in stature, his dick could not have been that exceptional. But boy were you fucking wrong.

He gave you half at first, watching the way your face contorted as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you up. He didn’t let you get comfortable for long, sliding the rest in as you shouted his name, probably waking the entire neighborhood up. Whoops.

“This might be the only time I ever get you to submit to me like this. Fuck you look hot when you’re being a good girl.”

You were going to fight back more- but those words made you want to listen to anything he told you to do for the rest of eternity. After two sickeningly slow thrusts, he started pounding into you. That attitude you had earlier had completely left the room, probably the stratosphere too. His dick felt like nothing you had ever taken before, nearly hitting your cervix with every pump in and out. It unfortunately was not going to take long for you to orgasm, as much as you wanted to hold out so you could keep experiencing this feeling. The feeling you never thought the guy you hated could give you. Pure and utter ecstasy. The alcohol flowing through your veins had you putting on quite the performance, moaning just as loud as Lando, tossing your head back and creating large claw marks along his back.

He thrusted deep into you- holding himself there. He made eye contact with you, his eyes low and filled with a fiery lust you had never seen before. He pressed against your lower stomach and holy fuck- you could not believe this was real.

“You feel that? That’s my fucking cock all the way inside you. You’re being such a good little slut taking me like this.”

You never wanted that feeling in your stomach to go away.

He pressed down again, shooting waves of pleasure through you that made your vision start to blur. Were you going to orgasm when he wasn’t even fucking you? 

“That’s enough of that, can’t make you feel too good.” he winked as he started fucking you again, bringing you right to the brink of an orgasm.

“Fuck Lando, you’re gonna make me cum.” He grabbed your throat.

“I’m gonna cum too. Look at me baby, I want us to remember exactly what we’re doing to each other.”

You never broke eye contact as you both lost control, his forehead pressed against yours as loud moans filled the room.

“That might be the only good idea you’ve ever had.” you laughed as he cleaned you both off.

“Of course that’s what you say right after I fucked the shit out of you.”

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Your first lesson in riding

Cowboy minotaur my beloved<33

TW: nothin! i just love minotaurs and this has been sittin in my drafts for like months. forgive me if the dialogue isn't the best, im not used to writing it

In an attempt to get a fresh start on life, you and a really close friend had recently moved to a new small town in the south thinking it'd be the perfect place. And after a long first day at work, you decided to go to the local bar, wanting to let loose a bit after the stress of moving and your job. 

Standing at the bar, you rest your crossed arms on the wood, ordering a drink. Keeping to yourself because, let's be honest, none of us have the confidence to ever go up to anyone, only to hear someone come up and stand next to you. Flicking your eyes over to see who it is and being graced with the sight of a big, burly, minotaur. His brown short furred body ripples with muscles still visible even through his shirt, shaggy hair slightly covering his eyes, white hat sitting on his head nuzzled between his big sharp horns. 

"Oh... oh he's fuckin' pretty" is all you can think as you stare unabashedly at the man. After a second he feels your gaze and turns slightly to face your direction, the both of you locking eyes. Blushing hard you quickly rip your gaze from him, mentally crying that you no longer get to drool over his Herculean body, a Greek tragedy indeed, but you're far too embarrassed at being caught to try again.

He huffs out a laugh though his cute cow snout at your reaction, the gold bull ring shining in the fairly dim lighting. 

"You must not be from 'roun here, haven't seen you before. Names Mason." He growls out softly, staring down at his drink, a smile on his lips. It takes you a second to understand what he said, your mind lagging like my old ass computer. Turning to him you give him your name then answer him, "I just moved here bout a week ago." You respond, downing your shot, hoping it'll give you some courage, but all it does is burn your throat. He takes a slow sip of his own drink, setting it down, and facing you, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." 

Turning around to lean your back against the wood, you tease him, laughing, "Bit generic." All while trying to ignore that, generic or not, it still made you feel a few butterflies. 

He chuckles, moving to stand in front of you, "Sorry, darlin', I don't get to flirt much with women." You raise your eyebrows slightly at that comment, clearly not believing he doesn't get attention. 

"Mhmmm'' You grin, rolling your eyes playfully. "What? M'bein' serious! I mean sure, they come up to me, but 'm rarely interested enough to actually hold a conversation." He defends, raising his hands and chuckling.  "Oh? Well lucky me, being deemed worthy of your presence," you tease. He nods, leaning over you to grab his drink and take a sip while looking down at you, jokingly humming in agreement.

The tension is thick in the air as you stare at him, lips slightly parted. Without taking the time to actually think about your next move, you raise yourself on your tiptoes, just managing to reach the brim of his hat and pull it off. Placing it on top of your own, you grin up at him. 

He takes a deep breath turning his head to the side and clicking his tongue quietly, just barely managing to contain himself at how damn good you look wearing his hat. 

"You done got me riled, sweetheart. You can't be waltzin' around wearin' a cowboy's hat like that. Gonna give folks the wrong idea."

"Mm, and why is that?"

"There's some old sayin about if you wear a cowboy's hat, you gotta go home wit' 'im. Means nothin' to me, but, everything gets exaggerated and rumors spread like a wildfire in a small town like this." He warns, but that only fuels you more, "What if I want that?" You purr in a low tone, grinning as you run the pad of your thumb on the brim of the hat.

"Fuckin' tease," He growls in response. "You really want that?"

"M'wearin' your hat, aren't I?"

He takes you by the hand, leading you outside to his truck. It's extremely stupid to get in the car with a stranger but you do it anyway, he's just too good to give up. You do send your friend a quick text explaining the situation and give her your location, so at least you weren't completely defenseless.

If anyone were to ask you what his house looks like you'd have no answer, the both of you were far too busy messily kissing to notice literally anything around you. Kicking the door shut and throwing you down on the bed, he starts to slowly undress you. All except the hat.

He spreads your thighs apart, squeezing them while kissing up and down the inner part, leaving little bite marks in his wake, teasing his tongue just around your cunt.

"Stop teasin'!" You whine, bucking your hips slightly, furrowing your brow and pouting. "Yes Ma'am," he lazily salutes, before burying his tongue deep inside your cunt, moaning into your pussy at how good you taste. The vibrations make your eyes roll back, your leg kicking slowly in pleasure. He keeps intense eye contact with you as he laps at your pussy, sloppily making out with your cunt. Flicking his tongue on your clit, he slowly pushes one of his thick fingers inside, beginning to stretch you out.

Three fingers deep, you cum all over his hands and face, your thighs shaking as you pull his hair harshly and scream his name. That only encourages him to go faster, sucking on your clit til you push his head away.

He gives you a cocky grin, licking his fingers clean and giving you one more kiss on your thigh. Tapping your ass twice, he pants, "C'mon, baby, wear the hat, ride the cowboy. Up." Still shaking slightly, you get on you knees, throwing your leg over his body to straddle him.

Groaning as you grind down on him, his fingers press into your skin, leaving little indents on your hips. You lift off of him for a moment to pop the tip in before slowly sinking down on his massive cock, whimpering at the stretch. Stopping half way to catch your breath, he rubs little circles on your skin to soothe you, "You're doin' such a damn good job, darlin', real proud of yah."

He continues to praise you as you begin to take the rest of him. Cautiously, you begin to ride his cock, moaning as he hits every single spot deep inside you. "M-mason! Fuck, so deep!" You rest both of your hands on his chest, using them to help you bounce up and down, whining each time his dick slams deeper into you, tears already beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

He groans, throwing his head back and slapping your ass, moaning out more praise, loving to watch you keen at his words. After a while he notices your thighs trembling and starts helping you lift your hips. "G-gonna cum!" You choke out, he grabs your face, forcing you to look down into his eyes.

"Don't you dare look away." Mason growls, your body forces you to listen, trying your hardest not to let your eyes roll back as you clamp down on your cock, milking him for all he's worth. He holds your hips still as he rams up into you, filling you up with his hot cum.

You collapse onto the bed, the both of you sweaty and panting, Mason reaches over, hooking his arm over your waist and pulling you into his chest, putting his head atop your own.

You're never giving this man up.

[reiderwriter]

Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory

Chapter Three of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Your mounting attraction to Spencer Reid pushes you to the edge, turning begrudging friendship to deep hatred when he finally shows up on your doorstep. He's the only thing that can out you out of your misery even as you sink further into it.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hate sex, rough sex, argument as foreplay, oral (f recieving) and face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasms, "forced" submission, creampie, p in v penetrative sex, etc.

A/N: I've had about as much sleep as the reader in this fic has for the last week, but HERE IT IS! Chapter Three 🥰 You may need a bottle of water on standby, or at least a hand fan, because this one gets a bit heated....

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist!

You hesitated in front of your office door, which you supposed was going to become a bad habit of yours now. You tried lying to yourself, that nothing was different now, that you weren't attracted to him in a completely stupid way, but you still stood frozen in front of your own office door. 

Frozen and horny. 

Shit. 

You mentally went through a list of the worst things that could happen if you went in. 

1. He was there. 

2. He wasn't there. 

3. He was there, and he touched you again, and you moaned. 

4. He was there, and he didn't touch you again, but you still moaned. 

5. He was there, and you threw yourself at him immediately because why wouldn't you when you'd seen what you could be working with the night before? Fuck moaning once, moaning multiple times as he pushed you against the bookshelf would- 

“Are you gonna go in, or are you just going to fondle the door handle?” He asked from behind you. From too close behind you. 

You turned, keeping the doorknob in your grin, and immediately flattened yourself against the door as he took a step closer. 

So close. He was so fucking close and it was suddenly all you could think of. 

“W-What?”

“You know, the CDC warns that door handles should be washed every 20 to 40 hours To prevent bacteria like Escherchia coli and Staphylococcus aureus from-” You ignored his words, drowning everything else out as you tried to dampen the fire burning under your skin.

“Cock?” You said, all attempts obviously not working. 

“Staphylococcus, yes. It can cause Adenovirus, Rhinovirus, not to mention-” 

“Okay! Okay, Spencer. Taking my hand off the handle now.” 

Finally, you twisted it and walked backwards into your room, walking backwards a few steps before your foot caught on a stray pile of books. 

“What the-” you cried, waiting for the impact of your landing as you swung out your arms frantically for purchase, screwing your eyes shut as you found none. 

Instead, you found an arm snaked around your waist, another wrapping your hip tight as Spencer Reid cradled your body to his own. 

“Thanks,” you breathed out, not even hearing the words yourself for how much air was in them. How was it possible to expel air and hold your breath at the same time? Because that was how it felt being in his arms: at once a sigh and a stopping of all bodily functions barring want. 

“I thought this was your office, Y/N. Surely you should know the layout by now.”

Moment over. You pushed at his chest to stand upright, and he stepped backwards, removing his hands from your person. 

“Very funny. We both know these are your books. Setting traps for me now, Spencer?” 

You moved around the piles of books again as he flicked the light switch, moving the opposite way around your desks, before meeting you again next to yours. 

“You're usually more observant than this. Is there something wrong today?” 

“What, like Adenovirus or Rhinovirus?” 

“No, like something…” he searched for the right words, pace slowing as he tried not to scare you away by talking with you like this.

“Like something on your mind.” 

You snorted, leaning down to switch on your computer, and also to avoid his eye contact. Unfortunately, academic curiosity had gotten to you in the last few weeks, and you'd read some of his psychological papers. You knew exactly what it was the BAU was apparently so good at, and you didn't want him to know that you'd imagined him balls deep in you hours before. 

“Not friends, Spencer. If there's something I need to talk about, I'll talk to a friend,” you said, standing straight again and turning to him again. You still avoided eye contact, but it didn't matter. His eyes weren't on your face but angled further down, like he'd been checking out your ass as you bent over or something. 

No. No, you weren't going down that train of thought. 

“Or even better, my therapist.” You were planning on the words being a bit more playful, but your voice came out deeper than you expected it, more gravely somehow. 

Your bedroom voice, you were using your stupid fucking bedroom voice on Spencer Reid. 

You cut yourself off again before you said anything else. Before he touched you or didn't touch you, and you got to test your earlier theory about which would be the more demeaning reaction. 

“I have class in ten. Clean up before I get back,” you ordered, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when he replied. 

“I don't take direction well, Y/N.” 

No, you didn't think he would. Neither did you though.

For a week, you tiptoed around the man, your words sharp, but your body weak to him. 

By day, you were hurling insults back and forth, messing up his papers and screwing with him via bookshelf again. 

“YOUR…FLY…IS….OPEN.” 

“VERY….MATURE.”

“MADE…YOU…LOOK…THOUGH.”

“BUSY….LOOKING…AT…OTHER….THINGS.”

“LIKE…THE…UNDERGRADS…THROWING…THEMSELVES…AT…YOU…?”

“LIKE…THE…PROFESSOR…I'M APPARENTLY…DATING” 

“Very fucking funny, Spencer,” you sighed at the last message, throwing the books off the shelf and pilling them up on the floor. 

“Don't even for a second entertain the idea of making that gossip a reality.” 

He grinned at you from behind his desk. 

“Okay.”

“Don't even - don't even think about it,” you said, stepping over his desk and poking at his chest as his smile deepened.

“Heard.” 

“I'm serious, Spencer, don't-” 

“You've thought about it.” You froze in shock at his words, as if your blood wasn't sure whether to run cold or burn hot and fast. 

“What?” You spat the words at him, unable to stop them coming out any other way. 

“You've thought about entertaining the gossip. You've thought about it a lot.” 

You needed to deny him, but he was right. By day, you tried to torment him, but by night, he did torment you. A week of wet dreams, of imagining him taking you over every inch of your office, of sleepless rest and failed orgams, and you could not escape. 

“No,” you said with a whisper, shaking your head and trying again even as your voice cracked from the lie and your body's cry for pleasure, for this man. 

“No, I haven’t- I don't-” You took a deep breath, but you knew it was no good, as his hand grabbed yours and flattened it against his chest. 

“Your pupils are dilated, your pulse is heightened, and your legs are practically clamped shut. Your mouth is dry, and I'm not sure if you've noticed yet, Y/N, but you're shaking.” 

“All signs of anger, Spencer, as you're well aware.” 

He let go of your wrist and sat back in his seat, just out of reach of you again. 

“Shame,” he whispered under his breath, nearly low enough that you didn't catch it, as he flipped open his book and continued whatever the fuck it was he even did in this office. 

You ignored it, anger really flooding you now, warring the heat of arousal that was firmly settled in your body for dominance. 

The anger won out. 

You grabbed books from your desk, files, and papers from the side table by the couch and your laptop from your desk and left the room quickly. 

You slammed the door, and you didn't look back, knowing that if you did, you'd see his winning smirk staring right back at you.

You marched yourself right to the staff administration office and put in for a week of leave. Spencer had one more week of work at the university, and then he would go back to being a regular FBI agent. 

Your paths wouldn't cross because you wouldn't let them cross, not when it meant for certain that you would give in.

You spent the week working to distract yourself from work. You finished books for your next semester courses, highlighting the better articles and essays to use, going through each bibliography to find better sources if they weren't good enough. You wrote more of a research paper you didn't have time to think about with so much going on. You corresponded with students, with TAs, with the other professors who wanted to know where you were. 

Okay, that was a lie. You aired the professors, but you did look out for any inboxes from him. Surprisingly, there were none. 

You spent a week throwing yourself head first into your work, and still, each night, you felt his phantom touch on you. No matter how exhausted, your brain still co jured images of his hands grasping your wrists, pushing them above your head and forcing his cock into you, his lips biting against your skin, the fire of his kisses leaving scars where they trailed down. 

You were running on three hours of sleep per night, sure, but at least you were as far as you could possibly get from the man ruining your life. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine the next Sunday, knowing that when you went back to work the next day, he'd be gone.

You wrapped yourself in blankets and put everything else off for the day, ordering food and eating it and not moving as you worked your way through boxes of pizza. 

It was when you finished your first glass and went to pour yourself another that there was a furious pounding at your door. 

“Y/N, I know you're in there, open the door.” His hand sounded again, and you nearly dropped the glass at the sound of Apencer Reid's voice. 

Your body acted alone, immediately following his directions as you damn near tripped over your own feet to open the door for him. 

Throughout all of your arguments, all of the quips you'd thrown at him, every stupid little thing you'd done to get under his skin, you had not once seen Spencer Reid looking this angry. 

His brow was furrowed uncomfortably, as if it were frozen in place. Gone was his perpetual smirk. 

“Spencer, what the fuck a-” 

“Thoughtless. Careless. Do you even know what you've done?” He snapped at you, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself as he immediately walked into your space and began touching things.

“Stop! Fucking stop it, Spencer!” You said grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face you. He brushed you off quickly and worked his way through papers you'd left on your coffee table. 

“No. You stormed out over a week ago, you blocked my number, you did not answer any of my emails-” 

“I didn't get any emails,” you spit back, pushing yourself between him and your things now, bodies so close they were touching. 

“Then you blocked my email, too. You don't even know what I'm looking for or the damage you could have done, do you?” His hands were on you then, not threateningly, as you'd expect, his anger still burning through him if his shaking voice had anything to say for it. 

His hands stroked up your sides and back down again, smoothing away your need to think. 

“My files. My team sent me a file. It was on the coffee table, and you took it with you when you left. The case is ongoing, and I'm flying out tomorrow, and without some of the classified information in that file, we will be at a disadvantage. Our odds of catching our unsub fall from 83% to 47% without all of the pertinent information.” 

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. 

“So yes, I'm going to go through your things, and if you're a good girl, you'll root through with me and help me find it.” 

He stepped away then, and you held your tongue. As much as you hated him, he was right. You knew what he did, you knew who he was and to trust him not to lie to you about his chances without this information. 

“The files on the coffee table are research notes, everything I took from the office is in that case over there,” you said pointing at a bag still where you'd dropped it by the door a week earlier. 

He walked to it and rooted through it quickly before finding the file he obviously needed and letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. 

“You're probably glad to see the back of me, right?” He said, laughing bitterly as he turned back around to you. 

“Obviously not as happy as you are,” you spat back, stepping back over to him. 

“If you ever speak to me that way again,” you started, spitting at him in the most threatening voice you could muster. “It won't be a fucking unsub that ruins your life.” 

“And how are you going to manage that, Y/N?” He said, stepping closer to you until he had you backed up against the wall, trapped in by his bigger frame, using it to his advantage to intimidate. 

“How will you manage to ruin my life,” he said, his voice softer as he finished his sentence, but not by much. “When you shake with just every time I get close?” 

“This is not lust,” you growled the words out, but try as you damn might, you were shaking, vibrating even. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Hatred, dislike, loathing, detestation, abhorrence, fuck Spencer, you can pick up a thesaurus yourself and find out.”

“Yeah. Okay. I'll believe your lies for a second.” He walked away, he was walking away but the fire was ringing in your ears and you needed him to stay fucking put so he could take it all. 

“You're a jackass.”

“Original.” 

“You slammed into my life, expecting me to bend to your will and be at the mercy of your needs, your wants. Your office space, your fucking case files, your job-” 

“None of that was my choice.” 

“And it wasn't mine either, but at least I fucking left you alone. I spent the week in this apartment and left you the fuck alone, and you couldn't even allow me the same.”

His focus was back on you again, but you refused to be backed against a wall this time. 

“What did you say?” 

“You will not let me know peace. I have lost my security, my patience, my fucking sanity with each word you have said, my peace of mind, my sleep, my fucking sanity, Spencer.” Your chest was heaving, touching his with each exhale as he too held his place in front of you. He was so close, you'd practically spat the words directly into his mouth. 

“How is that my fault?” He whispered, voice still dripping with disdain even as his hands again wrapped themselves in your hair, and he tugged your head back, baring your neck to him as he leaned down into you. 

“How do you know that you're not doing the same to me?” 

You refused to answer, though, meeting his eyes for one last second before you grabbed his hair in your hands and yanked him down to your mouth. 

It wasn't so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, each trying to torture a surrender from the other with clashing tongues and teeth. 

You made the first move, but he was obviously expecting it, and he didn't even pause before launching his own attack, finally pushing past your strong defence to walk you back to the sofa you'd abandoned earlier. 

His tongue still lashed against yours as you retreated, refusing to give up your upper hand even as you moaned into his touch. The couch hit the back of your knees, buckling, and you silently cursed your lack of sleep for leaving you so unstable right now. 

No, that wasn't true. It was him. He had left you so unstable, moving between happy and playful to angry and wrathful in the space of a week without you, and you'd been denying yourself the ability to even entertain any of this happening. Now that it was, your body was unprepared, totally at his mercy, as he pushed you to your back and pushed up your skirt. 

“You're already so fucking wet,” he groaned slipping two fingers inside you as you moaned around him, no longer capable of thought. This was the moment, this was when he was going to make you submit to him finally. 

Instead, he dropped to his knees and you gasped as his to guess found your sweet cunt and he began sucking to your clit. 

You were on fire, skin scorched from the inside out, spreading in waves from your pussy to the furthest regions of your body. 

With one hand, he spread your thighs further apart and pushed his entire face further into your cunt, tongue pushing inside right by his fingers, nose pushed right up against your clit as he didn't relent. Every movement was another curse falling from your mouth. 

“Shit, Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hips rocking back and forth as you tried to fuck his face, begging for more. 

To your surprise, he didn't keep your hips still but let you keep riding his face, riding his fingers as you chased your first orgasm.  

It came quickly, overwhelming you with the impact, jolting through your body like a lightning bolt as he let your hips shake and crash across his tongue. 

When he finally pulled his face away, it was glistening, and he wasted no time shoving his tongue back in your mouth. His message was clear - he may have let you take whatever pleasure you'd wanted with him, but he was still the one in control. 

You trailed kisses along his cheeks, neck, shoulders as he divested himself of clothing, shirt, belt, pants, ripping at yours to free your body as well, until the two of you were only left with underwear and you'd picked up every last drop of your cum left on his skin.

“On your back, now,” he said, and you complied. You spread your legs, and rubbed at your still wet cunt, jolting as he finally lined himself up with your cunt. 

But he didn't push in yet. Instead he wrapped two arms under your knees and pulled you closer, so his cock rested over the top of your stomach, and leaned down, his face hovering inches over your own, holding himself up with a forearm rested just above your head. 

“You see that?” He said, glancing down. “That is how much I am going to fill you. That is how deep I am going to ease into you. That is how far I am going to go to claim you. You can take it like a good girl, right?” 

“Just shut up and put your cock inside me, Spencer.” 

“You're so fucking pushy for a submissive little slut,” he said, smiling finally. 

“I am not a-” you started to protest, but he slid inside of your hot cunt and you lost the ability to focus. 

“Not a what, Y/N? Speak up,” thrusting shallowly as your cunt grabbed him and held tight. 

“I'm not a- SPENCER!” You screamed his name as he pulled out quickly, thrusting into you again with a speed and strength that had you wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, fighting for him to stay right there deep inside. 

“Not a sub? Y/N, you're whimpering and drooling right now. You're three seconds away from begging for my cock, why the fuck can you not be honest with yourself?” 

“Fuck…you,” you said between moans as he rutted into you like a beast. He wasn't man anymore, bit monster, and he was claiming you inch by disgustingly perfect inch. 

“Let go. Let me take care of you, let me control you. Come on, baby, you know how good it would feel,” he said, before ducking his head and wrapping his tongue around a nipple. 

You screamed his name again, but you still tried to resist. 

“Come on, Y/N. Show me. Cum on my cock.” 

For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd resisted the demand. But then your brain faded, and your nails cut into his back like daggers as your body followed his commands and you came on his cock for a second time that night. 

“Perfect. One more, you can do one more,” he said, kissing your lips and lifting himself back up so he was sitting on his knees as he again picked up the pace. 

You mumbled his name over and over again as he fucked out all of the frustration in your body. Every thing either of you had said or done melted away in the glow of pleasure, your body buzzing from the feeling of him taking ownership of you. 

“One more, Y/N. One more, you need to cum one more time.”

“I can't, I can't I can't I can't, Spencer I can't I really can't,” you said, voice growing pathetically whiny as the tears sprang to your eyes and you choked back a sob. 

“Yes you can, one more. Together, we can do it together,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him.” 

He claimed your mouth again, his hand wrapping around your throat as he cut off your air supply for a second, then two, then three, as your ears buzzed and you finally slipped over the edge again. 

But this time, as promised, you weren't the only one caught in the pain of pleasure. Spencer collapsed on top of you as his dick spurted inside you, holding you close as he unloaded everything he had into you. 

He sat there, warming his cock as he lazily kissed open mouth kisses into every inch of your shoulders, collar bone and chest. Everywhere he could reach without pulling out of you and leaving you there. 

After weeks of no sleep because of him, it was his soft lips that finally enticed you into the hands of the sandman, his weight a comfort as you closed your eyes. 

When you woke in your bed, clean and clothed, he was gone, and so was every sign that he'd ever been there in the first place. 

🔖 @stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia

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[cursedcatvibes]

SWEET BELIEFS

re2r!zombie leon x survivor reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: Leon turns into a zombie and has to learn to navigate how to live as one, while doing this he comes across you and your group of survivors. What will he do when he eats your now dead boyfriend's brains and falls head over heels in love with you enough to make you become like him?

tags/warnings: 18+ only please. I don’t want any controversy, minors DNI. Smut, Angst? Fluff for a paragraph or two. Descriptions of blood and gore. This could technically be considered a bit of Necrophilia? Implied suicide. Pain kink, Leon kinda takes a few bites out of reader. Slight non-con. Mentions of breeding but it doesn’t happen. AFAB reader, I tried to keep it as gn as possible.

A/N: hii so like i am absolutely awkward when it comes to writing smut to be honest, like it’s a bunch of thoughts that have to go into positions and the dialogue. i’m still a little unsure how to work tumblr and i feel so old. I took very very heavy inspo from warm bodies, one of my personal favorite movies. (I pulled up the script and everything so if you've seen the movie and are like hey.. word for word, bar for bar, YOURE NOT WRONG)

Songs I listened to while writing (just so you can picture some scenes with what songs I was feeling):

Sweet Beliefs - Cyann and Ben

Yamaha - Delta Spirit

Midnight City -M83

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen

happy reading!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon was a determined man; he could do mainly anything he set his mind to if he tried, and he did. He would do everything in his power possible to stop the spread of this virus, well, he tried anyway. He knew that he couldn’t do much to begin with, but he always had a small sliver of hope that he could. Stupidly he braved his way forward after the car exploded, promising Claire to meet at the police station. How naive. Is the two words he uses as he thinks back to that same day.

He held his Matilda gun in both hands as he made his way towards the front gate of the R.P.D. He grunted audibly as he shut the gate and then proceeded to lock it. He turned around to face the front of the building in partial awe, a bitter expression souring his face. This is where he was meant to work, to protect and serve the people and yet he never got a chance to properly even start to accomplish that task. 

With a heavy sigh Leon stepped into the building and looked around the main lobby, taking note of the shudder to his right that had a large warning with blood splattered on the floor, he grimaced and walked up to the small computer on the front desk, watching the cameras to see some guy flailing around a small notebook with the promise of a way out inside of it. 

Leon typed away on the computer to find out which room the guy was in and felt his heart sink a bit when he realized it was being blocked off by that same shudder he had saw earlier which was definitely not ideal but if he wanted to help get a cure he had to first escape with as many survivors as possible, so he inhaled sharply and opened the shudder by a lever with shaky hands, his grip on his gun tightening.

The shudder only opened enough for him to crawl under, so he pulled his flashlight out and crawled under while shining the light around, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he stood up from the floor and made his way to the room where the guy was, which unfortunately was behind another shudder. 

Leon holstered his gun quickly and manually forced the shudder open enough to pull the other officer out from, but unfortunately he was too late because the zombies had caught up to the guy on the other side and all the pulling from both ends along with the pressure of the shudder on the guys pelvic area ended up splitting him into two, leaving Leon with the upper half and the zombie with the delicious bottom half. 

He immediately felt sick, just staring at the blood and organs leaking out from the guy's poor body. Yet he forced himself to look away once he grabbed the small notebook from the guy's dead hand. He gasped softly when he saw that he needed to collect three medallions from different statutes and put them into the main statue in the lobby to unlock a secret path. 

Leon quickly pocketed the notebook and stood up, silently disappointed in himself for not saving the guy and making a quiet promise he would find a cure and try to save everyone else. He turned towards the door he entered, only for the door to swing open and a zombie to come barreling through, without hesitation Leon shot the zombie in the head and darted off, his main goal? Get back to the damn shudder that led him to this damn area in the first place.

As he ran, he bumped into two zombies, he panicked and shot one in the head and kicked the other one in the stomach to stagger back enough to fall on the floor. Leon heard a window break and started running towards the shudder, he could see the main lobby light peeking out from beneath the small sliver.

He got down on his hands and knees and started to force the shudder open, fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Yet he couldn’t get it open much with just his hands so he pushed his upper body through it and placed his palms flat on the floor, forcing it open enough with his back, almost crying with relief as he crawled through.

That relief was short lived as his leg was grabbed from the earlier zombie and before Leon could try and either shoot it or attempt to squirm away he felt this horrible pain shoot through his leg. A loud scream erupting from his lungs, he scrambled for his gun and shot the zombie, standing up quickly to force the shudder shut. He whimpered in pain as he limped over to the medical beds in the main lobby. 

He could see the blood seeping through his pant leg and when he rolled the fabric up, he almost vomited at the sight of his flesh missing. Apparently while he was crawling and squirming it caused his pant leg to bunch up a bit to expose skin and a bit of his pants fabric was missing from where he was bit. All the hopes of saving everyone and being the help people needed went down the drain. He’d seen enough zombie movies to know he was going to turn within a few hours and this whole thing was pointless and stupid. 

He glanced down at his gun, breathing heavily as he brought it up to his temple. “I won’t become those... Things.” He whispered to no one but himself, tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too chicken shit to kill himself. He burst out into tears and laid back onto the bed, sniffling softly to himself. He failed. For the first time in his life, he failed to protect someone. 

That was the last thing he remembered as a human as his eyes got droopy, fluttering shut every once in a while, before finally shutting, taking his last breath. 

When he awoke, he gasped as he rose up, clenching his hand over his heart, taking no note of the fact his heart was no longer beating anymore. He glanced down at his hands and saw they were paler than usual, he figured it must’ve been a nightmare or maybe he was immune. Otherwise, how did he survive a whole zombie bite? 

He got off the bed and grabbed his gun once more he was able to find a sharp object to use to pry open a door, he carefully stalked through the West Office, pulling his lips into a thin line as he tried to be as quiet as possible but when he stepped onto an empty plastic bottle his head shot up towards the two zombies in the room that roused up from their sleep. Leon fumbled for his gun getting ready to shoot because he was not about to be bitten or eaten alive, only for the zombie sleeping at the police desk to shush him. “Sleeping... Shush.” The zombie grumbled tiredly before going back to sleep. 

Leon’s jaw dropped in awe, why hadn’t they attacked? Why could he understand them now?! All the scenarios ran through his head at once and he could only land on one possible one. With a panicked look on his face, he rushed out and sprinted up to the second-floor bathroom, the zombies lingering in the hallway ignoring him, grunting and groaning out broken English to each other. 

He threw the bathroom door open and walked towards the mirror, finally looking at himself. It finally made sense to him now. It only took one look at himself to clearly see that he too was now a zombie, a hideous creature like the rest of them. Yet he didn’t look busted and beaten up, all his facial features were still intact and none of his skin started rotting, although some joints of his were stiff, assuming the rigor mortis set in for him if he were to be an actual dead corpse, but he wasn't. 

His reality came crashing down on himself and he couldn’t even cry, dead things don’t have emotions anymore.

-

Upon watching the news for a few days, months, years? He wasn’t sure anymore, everyday blended into one and after a while he stopped caring, he was dead now. He made a few zombie friends, those…people? Helped him adjust to the new life he was forced into fairly quickly. Almost like a family, every zombie was family, it didn't matter if you weren’t related or what you looked like, if you were a walking corpse you qualified as family. 

But if you were human, you were considered bad, an enemy, a meal. He learned that humans managed to build a wall to keep zombies out while they tried to start civilization anew, hoping to repopulate. Though some rebellious teens often snuck out beyond the walls and became a meal or turned into a zombie, or people ransacked through old buildings in hopes of coming across supplies, fortunately for zombies they could sense humans by smell from miles away, just most were lazy and didn’t want to die a whole second time for a worthless meal, unless the humans were in groups. 

Just like your group.

Out ransacking a place for medicine for some members of your community that fell ill and just extra medicine just in general. Leon was rather hungry as he walked with his usual horde of zombies towards the building you and your friends were in. He was quite happy because it smelled delicious. (Having grown accustomed to eating humans at this point.)

It didn’t take long for the horde to break down the door to the room you were in before they started attacking, gun fire ringing through the air, yet if it wasn’t a headshot, it didn’t matter much. Leon made eye contact with you when a zombie in front of him got shot in the head. Once he locked his eyes with you, he was smitten, he hadn’t felt like this since the day he arrived in the city. He felt… determined. He was absolutely fascinated with you enough to spare your life from being taken by him, he watched your beautiful eyes widen before sliding away behind a counter to hide. 

The moment was short lived as some annoying guy shot him, Leon growled and pounced on the guy, ripping him to shreds within seconds, eating the yummy brains he got through hard work, blood all over his mouth, hands, and clothes. As he chewed on some of the guys' brains, he indulged in the memories he got from them, for some reason if you consumed the brains of a human you get to see, experience, and feel all their past memories stored in that part of the brain.

Yet as he silently ate the brain’s he started seeing you in this guys’ memories, your sweet laugh, the soft and tender kisses between you both, even when you guys had sex. Leon’s eyes snapped open at the last part, gasping softly at the stirring in his loins. It wasn’t strong, no. But it was very faint, and for a moment he felt human again. 

It didn’t take a miracle for Leon to figure out he ate your boyfriend, he gulped down the brains in his mouth and pocketed the rest, all while chaos ensued around him, people dying, gunfire, stabbing, crying, shouting. None of it mattered. He could feel the amount of love your boyfriend had for your coursing through his veins as he crawled over to you. 

He saw the look of horror on your face as he spotted you, slowly crawling over to you because your gun had jammed, and you ran out of stuff to defend yourself with. He sat right in front of you and watched as you leaned back with a scared and disgusted look on your face. He frowned slightly and leaned closer, placing his bloodied hand on your cheek, making sure to smear you in your now dead boyfriend's blood.

In a hoarse and cracked voice Leon then spoke up. “S-Safe... Now.” He stuttered out, it had been a while since he had to use that word that he almost forgot it. He wanted to keep you safe, he now claimed you. It didn’t take long for the other zombies to grab the brains and other pieces of human body parts before they got ready to leave, sniffing around to make sure they couldn’t smell any more alive humans. 

He carefully took your hand and placed his bloodied finger over your lips. “Shh... Come.” He muttered softly, it hit him that he hadn’t spoken in full sentences or English in a while now, zombies understood each other by just grunting or groaning, they did speak in broken English sometimes. 

“What?” You whispered in confusion as he helped you up and walked you alongside the pack of zombies. He held onto you tightly with an expressionless face, guiding you along with the group all the way back to the police station, very determined to keep you as his own. He took you to a small space that no one really lingered at. Luckily, he had claimed this space, so no other zombies dared to go back there out of respect for when Leon wanted to be alone. The other zombies didn’t suspect you either, to them; if you smelled like you belonged then they thought you were one of them, plus they’re brainless idiots too, who is gonna know the difference if they don’t have the intelligence to figure it out.

Leon stared at you with uncertainty in his eyes, wondering if it was really the best idea to bring you back here of all places. What he did know was that he was super happy to even have a human in his vicinity, even if well you did attempt to kill him.

“This is... home...” Leon said softly, crouching down in front of you on the floor, trying to figure out how to explain he wasn't going to eat you. He pointed at you and then himself, chomping his teeth a few times. Cringing internally when you looked even more horrified, so he repeated the motion once more. “Not... eat.” He mouthed quietly with a soft expression in his eyes.

“Keep you safe.” He stated firmly, his eyes darting away from your gaze awkwardly. He got up and searched the room for some canned goods he had stored away when he first turned into a zombie. Eating humans disgusted him and he really didn’t wanna try to figure it out, so he tried to eat normal food, but that was never no use. He always spat it out with a disgusted look on his face, it tasted horrible.

He found a large can of fruits, smiling happily as he brought it over to you with a knife. You shakily took both items from his hands, being extremely cautious around him still because you were still unsure. Plus, it’s not like he looked like a model, you were sure that if he wasn’t covered in blood and didn’t have a few pieces of his cheek missing he would be close to a model. 

He was cute in a sense, like a dog almost. But you didn’t trust him, not yet at least. Zombies were the things you were warned about. With a reluctant sigh you stabbed the knife into the top of the can and ended up prying it open. You glanced up at him as you used your fingers as a spoon, catching his eyes dart away nervously. 

You pulled your lips into a thin line before letting out a small chuckle. “I guess you’re not all that bad, Mr. Zombie.” You snorted, watching Leon sit down in front of you. He scratched gently under his chin, a habit he never grew out of even when he was undead. He also learned that if he scratched too hard then his skin would fall off. 

Which is why it looks like a cat scratched the side of his cheek; it would’ve been a cool scar if it healed. But he was dead... So, nothing could scar... Or heal.

“My name...” He murmured, trying to think back on what his name actually was. It had been so long since he actually heard his name or even said his name that he forgot what it was. You on the other hand perked up a little bit. “You have a name?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter. He nodded and tried to think back on it. “L...” He elongated the first letter of his name because that’s the only thing that came to what little mind he had left. 

“Leonard? Lachlan? Landon? Leroy? Lawrence?” You started listing off different names that started with an L that came to mind, hoping one would stick but he just kind of shook his head before blinking a few times. “Familiar.” He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head, he almost had it but just as soon as he thought he did he lost his train of thought.

You sighed and ran your clean-Ish hand through your hair, eyes roaming over his body before you saw what looked to be an imprint of a wallet in his pocket. Your eyes widened slightly, and Leon noticed your gaze at his pants. He got excited for a moment, thinking you were checking him out or trying to look at his dick. He would gladly show you if you wanted!

He watched with excitement as you moved your hand out to his crotch area, he wasn’t sure if he was prepared! What if you didn’t like what you saw? Could he even have sex? So many questions racked his brain, each making him more excited than the last. Until... Your hand swerved to the left of his pants, aiming for his pocket as you tapped the stiff object. His face dropped in disappointment, but what was he thinking? Why would you even want to think about such an ugly hideous monster in such an intimate way? “Can I?” You nudged your head towards his pocket, and he nodded in slight defeat. 

You took out the wallet and flipped it open, looking at his ID. If you thought he was partially cute before, he was definitely cute now. You had to hide the blush that was threatening to sprout on your cheeks, quickly shaking it off. You redirected your attention where it was supposed to be aimed at. His name. 

“Huh. Leon Scott Kennedy.” You murmured aloud, watching Leon perk up with excitement as his name came back to his brain. “Yes! My name...Leon!” He pointed at himself happily again. He nodded and gently took the wallet from your hands. 

His eyes settled on the ID photo, and he felt a small wave of sadness wash over him, it wasn’t even his fault he turned but he supposed he turned in the least painful way possible, the most unscathed too. Some people had their limbs pulled off their body and some people had been halfway eaten alive because the damn zombie wanted their organs and not the brain. 

Yet he felt this was the closest he had come to crying ever since he turned into a zombie. He had tried everything he could do in his power to cry, and none of it worked at all. It mostly just damped his mood.

But even now he could not get that tear he so desperately wanted to fall from his eye. He shut his wallet and stuffed it into his pants pocket again, looking away from you awkwardly. He was going to say something until he watched you look out the window with your own longing look.

He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, plus he definitely didn’t want to be called or considered creepy. So, he turned around and pulled out some of the stashed away brains in his jacket pocket, he popped a big piece into his mouth like it was gum. He was able to divulge in a few new memories that your boyfriend had.

His eyebrows scrunched up as he could see your dad happily welcoming your boyfriend into the family, having a serious conversation while also celebrating your dead mom's anniversary. Then the memory faded out until he came back to reality because you had started talking to him. 

“I want to go home, Leon.” You stated firmly, your gaze still peering out the window for a bit longer before turning around to stare at him. “It’s n-not safe...” He warned you once more that going outside was not a good idea at all and you were stubborn and set on leaving. 

You sighed rather heavily and rubbed your face as you tried to figure how to explain it to him because he was quite literally not the brightest tool in the shed, and it wasn’t even on purpose either. “I get that.” You paused before continuing. “And look… I know that you ‘saved’ my life. And I'm grateful for that. But you walked me into this place. So, I know that you can walk me out again.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you waited for his response, you had a solid argument through and through. Leon knew that but didn’t want to let you go.

His poor brain scrambled for an answer, he didn’t wanna lose you. “H…h… have to wait. They… They’ll notice.” He blurted out as best as he could manage. You weren’t the happiest person on the planet with that answer, but it was better than staying with him permanently. 

“How long?” You questioned, sitting down in front of him as he kept his eyes trained on you. “F.. f.. few days. Th.. they’ll forget. You’ll be o-kay.” Leon tried to reassure you and he sounded quite serious about this. 

You nodded with a firm tight-lipped expression. “Fine. A few days it is then.” You responded quite tiredly. Leon was a bit eager that you bought into his lie, why wouldn’t you? No one else could sway you to believe otherwise since he was a zombie and you believed he knew everything about every zombie in this post-apocalyptic world. 

The next few days consisted of the both of you doing fun things to relieve your boredom, he showed you his fun little trinkets and items he collected during his time as a zombie just so he could feel a little human again and you in turn showed him the fun things humans still did that he forgot about.

But all good things must come to an end when he got distracted roaming around outside the safe place, he took you to find some more food and perhaps a better blanket, it was a big police station, something had to be there. But when he arrived back a while later with the objects, he was shocked to find you missing when he deliberately only went out while you were napping or sleeping so he didn’t have to stress about you running away.

He pursed his lips into a pout before he heard you scream, he immediately dropped the stuff in his hands and rushed off towards the direction of the scream, finding you surrounded by zombies. He panicked and grabbed a fire extinguisher, whacking the other zombies in the head in order to protect you while you stepped out the way to avoid being attacked or injured in some way possible. 

When he was sure he killed the other zombies, he dropped the fire extinguisher and huffed softly, wiping the blood away from his face and hands onto his already bloody clothes. Leon snapped his head up towards your direction with a frown on his face. “You said a few days. It's been a few days, Leon.” You demanded answers, you were feeling restless after all. “I have to go home; I have a family. A family that's on the other side of that giant wall that keeps creatures like you out of it.” You tried your best to explain it to him, but he didn’t want to hear the nonsense. He wanted you.

He took your hand in his own cold and stiff one, tilting his head at you fondly. “S... stay t-together.” He smiled as best as he could manage while guiding you to the parking garage. “We leave.” He tapped his wallet again and then took you over to a hoodless red car that had the keys still in the ignition.

Leon wanted to drive but he wasn’t very sure in his abilities and as if you read his mind you spoke up. “I'll drive.” You exclaimed cheerfully, hopping into the driver’s seat while he got into the passengers. He took the parking garage keycard out from his wallet that he often used to go out and explore carefree and handed it to you, which you gladly accepted. 

-

It had been a few hours since you and Leon left the police station, a clear destination in mind for you. That same wall you referenced earlier. You could’ve gotten there before midnight, but it had started raining and the heater in the car crapped out. “Dammit it, I’m freezing...” You grumbled in slight frustration, but Leon wasn’t cold at all. Corpses don’t get cold, which is an added bonus sometimes.

You glanced around and realized you were in a neighborhood close to home, well not super close but close enough to finish driving the rest of the way there.

“Full disclosure, I am exhausted beyond, and I want to warm up before I catch hypothermia. I’m not a corpse you know.” You teased, smiling a bit as you informed Leon of what was about to happen. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up.

You were still a little uneasy around him, but he was growing on you. You pulled over into a random driveway and hopped out the car, shivering as the cold wind paired with the rain blew harshly against your skin. Leon followed right behind you, albeit a bit slow but he still followed along.

As you approached the door you silently hoped it was unlocked, because who the hell would lock their door after being evacuated in a zombie apocalypse? 

Unfortunately, it was locked, and you seriously considered busting the door down, you took a step back but stayed beneath the awning of the front porch, rubbing your hands up and down your upper arms to warm yourself while searching for a window that wasn’t boarded up to break into.

Leon on the other hand was confused why you didn’t just open the door considering he got there a little after you did. “What's... wrong?” He questioned, staring at you with his usual cute look of curiosity.

Your eyes darted back towards his own and you purse your lips tightly as you explained that the door was locked. “It’s locked, I can’t get in it and I’m searching for a window-” Before you could even finish your sentence Leon slammed into the front door and it swung open. You were stunned. Could he always do that? If so, why hadn’t zombies come in bigger hordes to storm the wall keeping the rest of humanity alive.

Leon turned towards you when he opened (broke) the door for the two of you, but mainly you. It’s like he was expecting some praise for helping you out. He was a good zombie after all! 

With a small smile on your face, you patted his head. “Thanks Lee.” You crooned, the nickname easily slipping past your lips as both of you sauntered inside the house while Leon closed the door behind the both of you once inside.

You desperately rubbed your hands together for a shred of warmth, Leon took note of this and frowned. He wanted to help you warm up but how? His brain (what was left due to deterioration) searched for an answer and came up with one possibility but didn’t know if you were going to want to do that. After all, he was let down earlier with the whole wallet situation.

“Let’s go upstairs, I’m dying to get out of these clothes and under a blanket.” You emphasized your point by tugging on your soaked shirt. Leon being Leon let his eyes roam over your body, admiring the way it clung to your skin before noticing you were walking away towards the stairs. “O-Okay.” He murmured, tailing after you like a puppy.

Once you reached upstairs you asked Leon to make sure no other zombies were in any of the rooms, you survived this far. No way in hell were you going to die in such a pathetic way. It's the first rule of the apocalypse, be cautious and also know your route to escape if you do encounter a zombie. You can thank Zombieland for that warning, it did amuse you in some odd way.

Watching some guy who was surviving a zombie apocalypse thinking it would never happen but never say never. It felt like some sick joke that sometimes didn’t feel real until you encountered a zombie, then it felt a little too real.

Speaking of zombies, here comes the cutie who waddled back with a shake of his head. “No zombie!” He exclaimed, pointing to a room at the end of the hall. "Bed.” He said simply, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you inside the room. You didn’t protest it at all, hell you would sleep on a rooftop if it provided you with good enough shelter along with a decent bed at this rate.

After a quick check of the mattress to discover it hadn’t rotted much, and a bedsheet was over it so it added a decent layer of protection as well, you sat on the edge of the bed while Leon sat on the floor like usual, wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

“I’m gonna get undressed. Don’t look.” You ordered firmly, hoping he would understand. You smiled when he nodded and turned your back to him while he turned his head away long enough for you to see he did before he turned right back towards you.

Leon wasn’t an idiot; he knew very well what he was doing. He was once human too after all, plus he would feel stupid if he let this rare moment slip away from his grasp, it had been too long since he saw actual decent tits and ass, most of the other zombies who were women were all rotting and very unappealing to him. He’s sure you would look so beautiful if you looked like him. 

You on the other hand were completely oblivious to Leon’s plan or the fact he was ogling you like you were his next most delicious meal, and in a way... You kind of were. 

Nonetheless you stripped down to just a bra and panties before curling back into the bed and under the blanket, shivering quietly while hugging your legs for warmth still. It was so silent between the both of you. So silent you could hear your teeth chattering echo throughout the room.

Leon sat on the floor awkwardly, wondering what to do with his newfound feelings. You never banished him from the bed, nor were you shying away from him when he touched you recently. Maybe this time he could get what he wanted from you, right? He would have to eventually.

A very confident Leon rose up from the floor, you watching with furrowed brows in confusion. Was he going to leave the room? But to your surprise he curled up in bed with you, his cold dead hands sliding around your waist to cuddle you from behind, you instantly stiffened up from multiple things, the fact he was cold, and his hands were resting on your belly and the fact he was so close to you like this. But after a few moments you relaxed and leaned back into his touch.

Leon felt like he was over the moon when you reacted positively at his touch, he could smell your scent, your musk and if he had a consistent blood flow, he was sure it would’ve all rushed down to his penis. Luckily for him he could make his body stiffen up in places or even all over in general. Lord knows how many times he escaped second death by doing this neat party trick when humans tried killing the groups of zombies he was in. He never left unscathed though and caught a bullet in his shoulder once. But it never bothered him because he didn’t feel it. It did piss him off though. 

He was so tempted to take a small bite of your sweet supple flesh; he had been suppressing his desires for so long now it was becoming unbearable. “Such a temptress...” He thought to himself, rubbing his hand up and down your waist gently, easing you up to his touch in small doses. 

You were feeling pretty sleepy but a part of you was getting a little turned on, you hadn’t had sex in a while even while your boyfriend was alive so any touch from a male was enough to set you off, even if unfortunately, that male was a zombie. But it was different somehow, he was gentle. Plus, he was cute so that definitely didn’t hurt either.

You guess the only plus of the whole situation was the fact Leon wasn’t breathing super loud in your ear like a fat pig. That’s what your now dead ex(?) boyfriend did, and it was a major turn off because it sounded like he was dying every time he was moaning or even came. 

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as Leon’s hand drifted lower to cup your inner thigh, the two of you looking down at his hand on your body. He whimpered softly at the warmth between your thighs. “M-May I?” He pleaded; he can’t remember the last time he was this nervous. Oh wait, yes he can. The first time he met you and a few hours earlier when you pulled that little stunt of disappearing on him. He thought he lost you forever. 

Not this time. 

Not ever again. 

You gulped quietly and looked over your shoulder at him nodding slightly, breathing out a soft yes. 

Leon was happy, he felt a warmth within himself in his chest area, well maybe if he had a beating heart it would feel way better, but he can’t get greedy now. Not after he worked this hard to get to this moment.

It had been a while since he had sex, things with his ex-girlfriend weren’t so great before he came to Raccoon city. He silently apologized if he was a bit rusty. Though as soon as his hand slipped beneath your panties, and he heard your soft gasp when his fingertip brushed against your clit it's like all his knowledge on how to please a woman came back to him.

He tightened his grip on your waist with one hand while the other dipped down to collect the slick leaking from your hole, using it as lubricant to swipe at your clit as best as he could, hoping to pleasure you. He figured he was doing a good job when you pressed your face into the pillow to muffle a moan.

That wouldn’t do at all!

Leon removed his hands from you and sat up, pouting a bit as his ego inflated from the soft whine of confusion left you. “I wanna..” He paused and looked down into your eyes. “So pretty...” He thought to himself. 

“Sound.” He pointed at your mouth; it took a second for it to click but once it did you nodded. “Right, yes. Sorry.” You blushed at his comment, for a zombie he seemed sure of exactly what he wanted. Even if he wasn’t good at it verbally.

Leon smiled and climbed on top of you, running his knuckle against your cheekbone with a delighted expression. You nuzzled against the gesture, a small part of you was calling yourself a freak for even enjoying this and the bigger part was you telling that other part to shut the fuck up.

Your hands came up to cup his face, being mindful of the piece of flesh missing from his cheek, he appreciated the gesture, but he couldn’t care less if you touched the wound. He rested his weight on his forearms to grind his cock against the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your lips and if you weren’t so scared of getting bit you would’ve kissed him, but you didn’t want to tease him and him end up biting you.

You were so eager and desperate though that you yourself disregarded foreplay because you were definitely wet enough. You helped Leon strip down to nothing, admiring his toned body, ghosting your fingertip over the bullet wound too. He was embarrassed and shied away from your wandering eyes.

“You’re so handsome, Leon.” You confessed, watching his eyes go wide with his head snapping back towards you with a hint of vulnerability beneath them. “Really?” He tilted his head at you while you discarded your bra and panties somewhere in the room. 

When you met his eyes, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, nodding while dragging your fingers through his soft but slightly matted hair, trying to ignore the fact you might’ve tugged a bit too hard that some strands actually fell out. It was just another reminder that you were literally about to have sex with a whole zombie.

Leon cleared his throat as best as he could while positioning himself between your legs to rub his cockhead between your folds. Low moans escaped both of you before he slowly pushed himself past the tight muscle that relaxed with ease. Leon swore he was in heaven, that he died for a second time and that heaven was you.

So warm and wet. Is literally all he could think of.

You on the other hand couldn’t get over how good it was, but that lingering guilt still bubbled at the back of your mind. You shoved those thoughts down and wrapped your arms behind his neck tugging him closer towards your body.

Slowly he started to thrust into you, he tried to be gentle, but each thrust was hard and rough. Punched out gasps and moans filling the room each time his hips met yours. “D-Do you like...?” He asked quietly, burying his face into your neck, holding his desire to bite you at bay. He had to remind himself it wasn’t a good moment. But seeing your bouncing tits and flesh so close to his face was his breaking point.

“Y-yes... I love it–AHH!” You screamed at the end of your remark, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the pain of being bit. 

Leon cursed himself for doing it, but he could only hold his primal desires at bay for so long. “What the fuck did you do! G-Get off of me!” You shrieked, trying to fight away from his grasp but he was much stronger than you. Immediately pinning your wrists down to the mattress with one hand, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“I'm s-sorry!” He apologized profusely but his hips never slowed down. “Accident...” He whimpered coyly as you kept struggling. 

You felt like an idiot, who in their right mind would trust a zombie after all? You. You did and now you were reaping the consequences. 

As much as you hated to admit it, the blood loss and the blood around Leon’s mouth was making you dizzy with pleasure. It didn’t take long for your struggling to cease; you knew you would ‘die’ from blood loss but the adrenaline in your body was fighting while blood gushed out from the bite on your neck.

Leon let go of your wrists shakily to test if you would harm him but when you didn’t and you just laid there looking up at him with a hazy look in your eyes, he felt like he was on top of the world. In one swift movement he put your ankles over his shoulders, putting you into a mating press damn near with how feral he was fucking you.

The lewd squelching sound of your pussy was enough to send him over the edge, but he can’t cum, he lost that ability the day he died. He was upset he didn’t meet you earlier, he’s so sure that you would look so perfect with his child in your belly.

“You’re going to be just like me...” Leon hummed, concern brewing in your belly when he started getting easier to understand. Was this really it? You weakly protested against the idea when his thumb pressed against your clit to get you to have one final orgasm. 

He tilted his head to the side to lick up your calf all the way up to your ankle, suckling on the area he wanted to bite. Without much thought he sank his teeth in your leg, right where he was bit. What was more romantic than having matching bite marks?

You jolted from the pain mixed with pleasure, weakly crying out Leon’s name. “L-Leon... Stop it...” You pawed at his back as your back arched off the bed, feeling the life slowly draining out your body the faster your heart pumped out blood from such a stimulating touch, your body temperature lowering to almost eerily match his own.

He could feel your gummy walls squeezing the non-existent life out his cock and he threw his head back in pleasure, groaning loudly as he doubled down on his efforts, he could tell you were close. 

He wasn’t wrong though, you were so close to reaching your sweet release, the bedsheet and mattress soaked with your bodily fluids. Blood and your arousal forever staining the sheets. “P-Please my Goddess...” He squeaked out, leaning down to lick at your neck, lapping up the blood oozing out. 

Your body was getting weaker and weaker, eyes fluttering shut longer than they were open as you slowly died beneath him, yet right before you took your last final breaths as a human you came violently around his cock, feeling utterly spent and satisfied as you drifted into an unconscious state.

Leon sat up straight, staring down at your lifeless body with a small amount of concern. He had never turned someone into a zombie before, so he wasn’t sure if he actually killed you or not. He pulled his cock out of your hole, admiring the creamy white ring around the base of it.

He ran his fingertips over the bite mark on your leg, sighing in content, his eyes drifting up your body to admire your glistening folds. He glanced around nervously before leaning down to lap at your cunt, moaning softly at the taste. "Gosh..." He could definitely eat you up.

He whimpered in frustration when you didn't stir awake after a few hours (minutes), placing small kisses on your belly with a pout, wrapping his arms around your waist while he laid on top of you, covering your naked bodies with the blanket. 

He kept your hand outside the blanket, staring intensely at it. 

“Please move. Please move.” He thought anxiously, finally after what felt like eternity, he saw your fingers twitch and he felt relieved. He smiled fondly at the sight, kissing your sternum with a dopey grin.

You were going to be with him for eternity. <3

[princessbrunette]

you remembered the first time you laid eyes on jj maybank.

a shitty admin job was the best you could score from your father, the sheriff — something light you could add to your resumé, whilst doing minimal work. you didn’t anticipate working in the local jail to be as boring as it was, despite knowing you were going into a job that consisted solely of checking people in and out and punching names into a computer. you tried to make it as fun as possible, showing up in your cutest miniskirts, fluffiest jackets, daintiest mary-jane heels, but there was never anyone interesting coming in and out the cells, only drunks being thrown into the tank after one too many.

that was until jj came along.

it was like everything moved in slow motion the first time he got brought in. your father had the blondes wrists clipped behind his back, shoving him along the hallways. it was the first young person you’d gotten in weeks, your shoulder finding the door frame as you stare, watching in intrigue. whatever jj had done to get himself wound up in a cell, he didn’t seem remotely sorry about it. the smirk on his face was worn proudly as a medal, even whilst being shoved along by the sheriff he had this swagger to each step. you didn’t even realise you were staring, dressed in all your girly glory until he locked eyes with you.

his smirk spread on his face. jj knew who you were, but that was to no surprise — everyone did. the sheriffs daughter. a title you wore not so proudly, as all it did was get you labelled as a narc by association in high school and barred from any party where drinking or smoking could potentially be occurring. jj’s eyes drag down you, and then back to your eyes, even turning his head to hold the eye contact as he got shoved into a cell.

your father followed his gaze before grabbing a fistful of his white tshirt to hold him straight. “and quit eye balling my daughter, would you?”

he holds your gaze with that amused grin for a moment longer before blinking down at the shorter man. “thats my bad, sheriff.” he drawls in that lazy southern accent of his. you had to have him.

it was over from that point on. you’d seek him out, tired of being associated with your fathers profession and wanting to have some fun for once. jj was more than happy to oblige, infact he couldn’t believe his luck. there was a thrill to the two of you being out in the open together, something in the two of you wanting to be caught — just to see what would happen. you’d even go as far as to makeout against your car right outside the station after you’d finished a shift, jj all but shoving his tongue down your open mouth as his hands grope you all over for other officers to see and relay to shoupe.

jj frequently returned to his temporary cell with all the trouble he’d get in — your glossed lips turning upwards elatedly at the sight of his cuffed form trudging its way through the hall like routine. you’d even gotten to the point of ignoring your father and running to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “oh jayj what’d you get yourself into this time?” you whine, only for him to chuckle it off with the same joke he made each time.

“maybe i just wanted to see you, babydoll.”

by which at this point, your father had yanked you off the boy, sending you away. “go do your work, don’t lemme tell you again.”

of course it drove a wedge between you and your father. but he deserved it! he ruined your social life growing up by shutting down parties and arresting your peers, the least you could do was date one of his hottest cell-regulars. every gaze across the waiting room as maybank checks out was met with your father appearing seemingly from nowhere to ask “you really think it’s gonna work out with a kid like that? don’t come cryin’ to me when you get hurt. i warned ‘ya.” to which you’d roll your eyes and walk away. jj would never hurt you, not unless you asked him to.

he was always desperate to get his hands on you in other ways during your alone time, crowding you from behind at the sketchy bar he’d brought you to and wrapping his arms round your waist.

“your daddy’s gon’ be real mad at me for bringing his sweet little daughter to a joint like this.” he jokes, pressing kisses to the sweet spot behind your ear as you lose interest in attempting to attract the bartenders attention.

“he’s not the boss of me.” you sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you. you hear him chuckle, craning round to look at you from the side.

“nah? all grown up now, huh.” he comments, making a weak giggle leave you as you press your ass further into his crotch. “guess someone’s gotta step up then, right? maybe next time i’ll be the one puttin’ you in cuffs. bet you’d like that.” his coarse hands slide down your arms to your wrists before binding them with his hands behind your back, continuing to attack your jaw and neck with little kisses.

“you can do whatever you like to me, jj.” you admit sweetly, and he responds with a kiss to your cheek.

“i know. it’s my favourite thing about ‘ya.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

somebody to hold

pairing: könig x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4,884

summary:

König discovers cuddle therapy.

You discover König.

author’s note: i don’t play COD, i just have a mask kink. all translations are from google, so feel free to send me corrections if they are needed! translations available at the end of the fic

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), potentially bad German translations, mentions of König’s social anxiety, descriptions of scars, touch starved könig, oral sex (m receiving), size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, mild breeding kink, choking, fingering, ab riding. Let me know if any are missing!

“Hey, your next appointment is here,” the voice of the practice secretary, Amy, says from the doorway of your office.

You look up from your computer, brow furrowed as you click around your calendar. “I didn’t think I had a late appointment?”

“Last minute add. And just…prepare yourself,” she says, eyes comically wide before she disappears.

You shut your laptop and head for the waiting room, curious about what’s got Amy acting so funny.

You stop short in the doorway. Perhaps it’s the veritable mountain of a man sitting in the tiny plastic waiting room chair fully kitted in military combat gear, including a sniper hood that only reveals two pale blue eyes that scan the room. His hands rest on his large thighs, fingers curling against the fabric of his tac pants.

You’re not unfamiliar with military clients. Your office is near a base, after all. You’ve had a few wander in before. But you’ve never had one quite like him.

“Uh, hi? Hi,” you say, clearing your throat. His eyes shoot to you and you swallow nervously. You give him your name, followed with, “I’m going to be your cuddler this evening. Do you want to follow me back to the session room?”

The man gives a single nod before unfolding from his seat. He absolutely towers over you, his build just as broad as it is tall, and he has to tilt his head down to look at you. He holds an arm out, gesturing for you to lead the way.

You lead him to the back session room, a space curated for comfort. It’s painted a deep blue and lit only with dimmable lamp lighting and string lights that can be turned on or off, depending on the client’s preference. There’s a large couch pressed to one wall, a sectional that has a hidden portion that pulls out to fill in the middle, essentially turning it into a bed. It’s perfect for both seated snugglers and the prone cuddlers.

There’s a snack and water station set up on a wood console table near the door, and beside it are cubbies for storing belongings. A large basket of soft blankets sits near the couch, along with an array of pillows.

You look back at the man that has followed you through the door. Those blue eyes take in every detail of the room before they land back on you. You toe off your sneakers, leaving you in your frog patterned socks. You wiggle your toes.

“Did Amy explain the rules to you and brief you on the terms and conditions?” Another silent nod. “Okay, well, everything we do is completely up to you, within those parameters. We can talk or touch as much or as little as you’d like for the length of your appointment. I can make some suggestions for positions, if you’d like?”

His hands fidget at his sides, fingers flexing and curling into fists like he’s not sure what to do with them. He stares down at the shoes that you’ve left by the door.

“You don’t have to take anything off, if you don’t want to,” you reassure him. “Why don’t you take a seat on the couch?”

The man takes two broad steps before taking a seat, as instructed. You feel a weird sort of giddiness that a man clearly as powerful as him listened to your orders.

He sits with his back straight as a bar of steel, eyes trained on you for the next step in the process, hands placed on his thighs once more. You take a tentative step closer.

“I’m going to sit right here, okay?” You narrate as you sit down near him, a cushion of distance between your bodies. “Is this alright?”

He nods.

“Would you like me to be closer? Or farther?”

“Closer,” a deep accented voice says. It makes your breath catch, the quiet gentleness of it and the way it sounds rough from disuse. “Please.”

You scooch closer, the distance between your bodies shrinking but not yet removed. “Okay?”

“Ja. Yes,” he says. A pause. “Could you…closer?”

“Of course. Is it okay if our bodies touch?”

He nods. You close the gap between your bodies, your thigh pressed along his and your arms brushing with each breath. He’s tense, shoulders tight and fists clenched as he breathes rhythmically through his nose and out his mouth. You let him take a moment to adjust.

“What’s your name?” You ask quietly.

“König.”

________

You are very warm. König can feel the heat of you even through his gear.

He feels a bit ridiculous, sitting here on a couch beside a stranger who he has paid to cuddle him. And he can’t even reach that point yet. Even just having you sit beside him has him trying to calm his breathing.

In…2…3…4….Out.

“Would you like to talk about anything?” You ask. He glances down at you. Scheiße, you’re pretty. That fact certainly isn’t helping him keep calm.

He shakes his head, not trusting his voice to reply. You give him a small smile.

“Well, do you mind if I talk?”

No, he doesn’t mind at all. He’d listen to your voice for hours if he could, the way it's so soft to his ear compared to the shouts and commands he’s used to hearing day in and out. He shakes his head.

Your small smile grows, a bright grin across your face that makes your nose crinkle adorably. König finds his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit.

You tell him about your day and how you were looking forward to the weekend because there is a show that you wish to catch up on. You talk about your cat, a little orange tabby that you adopted three years ago named Toast and how he likes to perch inside the window and watch the birds outside of your apartment. You also mention that Toast has an entire wardrobe of sweaters for the winter that he hates, but you love putting him in them anyways.

Slowly, the tension leaves König’s body. He relaxes against the back of the couch and adjusts his legs, stretching them out in front of him. His hands, which once fidgeted in his lap, are now folded on his chest as he tilts his head back and listens to your stories.

“König?” You place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Our time is up.”

He blinks. Oh. He must have fallen asleep. He looks over to find you smirking at him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bore you to sleep,” you say, voice self-deprecating.

“It was not boring, liebling,” he replies quietly.

______

The following week, you notice a calendar event labeled [CLASSIFIED]. You ask Amy about it.

“It’s the big guy from last week. He made a standing appointment,” she tells you. “But he’s all big, scary military so he didn’t give me a name to put down.”

You smile to yourself. You know his name.

It feels like a fun secret between the two of you.

You’re thrilled that he wants to come back. You hadn’t stopped thinking about his voice and those bright blue eyes all weekend.

When it's time for his appointment, you smile brightly at him in the waiting room. He follows you back to the session room, just as silent as the last time he visited.

You remove your shoes, just as before. He sits on the couch without being prompted.

“Would you like me to sit beside you? Like last time?” You ask. He nods.

You sit down, close enough that your limbs brush, just as you had the week prior. He seems a bit more at ease this time.

“How is Toast?” He asks. You beam at him, thrilled that he remembered you told him about your cat. You tell him about your weekend spent on the couch with your furry friend.

“Can I--,” he begins to ask, pausing uncertainly. He lifts his arm slightly.

You wiggle against him, settling against his side as his arm drops across your shoulders.

“Danke,” the man says. “Thank you.”

“Of course, König.”

______

It goes like that for four weeks. Konig sits on the couch and allows you to settle in beside him, your sides pressed together on the couch. You talk to him about anything and everything that comes to mind, and he listens intently.

He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, you cling to his words. Especially when he slips into speaking in German.

And if you have to press your thighs together for relief during those moments? Well, you hope the man doesn’t notice.

On the fifth week of his appointments, König surprises you.

When you remove your shoes, König begins to unclasp the buckles holding his tac vest to his chest. You grin at him in encouragement as he sets it to the side.

“I feel…naked,” he comments with a small huff of laughter.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cheeky reply that ran through your head. He is a client, after all.

He sits beside you on the couch, just as all the other sessions started, but he fidgets with the strap of his leg holster. “Could—,” he starts, pausing for breath. “Could we….lie down?”

“Of course,” you murmur. “Do you have a preference for position?”

“You can…lay your head on my chest?” He says. You give him an encouraging nod, standing up so that he can rearrange his large body so that he’s laying on his back. You reach for the pull tabs of the middle section, sliding it into place. He looks at you in surprise. “That was neat.”

You giggle. “Yeah, this couch is the best,” you comment as you crawl onto the cushion and settle your body along his, your head pillowed on his hard chest.

“This is…nice,” he says.

“Yeah, big guy. It is.”

______

Two weeks into sessions where you lay beside König, he begins talking.

In a quiet, albeit deep, voice he tells you about how he struggles with social anxiety. Being as big as he is was never useful for him until joining the military. He was mercilessly bullied in school as a young boy. He wanted to be a sniper, but his size was a burden to the position. Not to mention, he can’t sit still. He fidgets constantly, and his mind tends to wander if his body is not in motion.

His heart beats quickly beneath your ear as he tells you all the things about himself that he’d been keeping close to his chest for the last two months. He doesn’t stick to just the serious things. He tells you that his favorite color is blue. He has a massive sweet tooth and would kill a man for some traditional Sacher torte.

The laugh that accompanies that particular bit of information might just be your favorite sound in the world.

You don’t mention when your time with him has come to an end. You let him keep talking, afraid to break the spell and return König to his more stoic state.

König ends up noticing that the time has gone past his scheduled appointment. His blue eyes go wide and he sits up abruptly, knocking you off his chest as he begins to apologize profusely in a mix of German and English.

You place a hand on his chest. “It’s okay, König. Really. I just…I like spending time with you,” you admit quietly.

He rests a large gloved hand over yours.

“I enjoy our time as well, mein herz.”

______

König doesn’t show for his next scheduled appointment.

Or the one after that.

Or the one after that.

By the fourth missed appointment, you start to lose hope that you’d ever see him again.

You just hope he’s okay.

______

A sharp knocking noise breaks through your heavy sleep. You roll from the bed, landing gracelessly to the ground and startling Toast, the tabby darting beneath the bed for cover. Another knock sounds through the apartment as you stumble towards the door.

You stand on the tips of your toes to peer through the peephole with bleary eyes. Fumbling with the locks, you pull the door open as quickly as you can.

“König?” You ask breathlessly.

______

The adrenaline from the mission still courses in König’s veins as he tries to wait patiently for you to answer the door to your apartment, but he’s about one minute from either kicking down the door or picking the locks.

He imagines you would likely not appreciate either effort.

But finally, finally, he can hear your soft steps on the other side of the door before the locks disengage and the door is pulled open.

“König?” You ask. You’re wearing a large t-shirt that hits the middle of your thighs, more skin on display for his greedy eyes than he’s ever gotten the chance to see before.

“Liebling,” Konig replies. He steps forward, tentatively crossing the threshold to your home. When you don’t stop him, he takes another step. You look up at him with wide eyes.

“Where…what—,” you stutter, moving aside so that he can fully enter the apartment. He shuts the door behind him.

“Please, liebling, I–,” he starts, words catching in his throat as he looks down at you, the emotions bubbling up his throat. “I need you.”

______

König keeps his eyes trained on you as he unbuckles his helmet, lifting it from his head and dropping it to the floor. Next are the protective braces on his arms and legs, followed by the heavy tac vest and thigh holster.

He lifts the sniper hood, revealing the black balaclava beneath. His chest heaves with harsh breaths as his wide eyes scan your face.

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing tightly, your head pressed to his chest as you close your eyes and inhale the scent of him.

“Missed you, König,” you murmur. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you impossibly tight to his body.

Suddenly you’re lifted from the ground and you squeak with surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms circling the back of his neck, holding onto him like a koala. The position puts you face to face with the man. His eyes search yours.

“Is this okay?” He asks. All you can do is nod. “Where is your bedroom?”

“Down the hall, last door on the right,” you instruct. König abandons his gear by the door, taking broad steps down the hall in the direction you gave. He gives the door a gentle kick, opening it wide enough to enter.

Toast darts out from beneath the bed, sliding past König’s legs and out to the living area.

He sets you gently on the bed, standing between your spread legs. His eyes remain fixed on yours as he kneels, deft fingers tugging at the laces of his boots.

You could get used to a view like this.

König stands to his full height once he’s removed his boots. A broad, scarred hand cups your cheek tenderly, calloused thumb moving across your cheekbone.

“Mein Liebling," he murmurs. His hand leaves your face and works the fly of his pants open, tugging the rough fabric down over his thighs.

You try very hard not to look but when he curls his fingers into the hem of his combat shirt, you can’t help the greedy way your eyes rove the miles of pale skin.

You take in the muscular thighs that give way to a defined Adonis belt, the cut so severe beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs that you long to trace your tongue along the valley. His abs flex, guiding your exploration up towards his thick chest.

There’s a litany of scars across his body, from smaller bullet wounds to deep slashes covered in thick scar tissue. You reach a hand out, lightly trailing your fingers across one that spans from his collarbone to the middle of his chest.

His hand curls over yours, holding it still against his warm skin. You can feel the frantic beat of his heart beneath your palm.

König’s free hand grasps the top of the balaclava and pulls, finally revealing the face of the man that’s occupied your every free thought over the almost two months you’ve known him.

Shaggy dark blonde hair falls across his forehead, slightly damp with sweat. Thick straight brows over the ice blue eyes framed with long blonde lashes you’ve become so familiar with. A slightly crooked nose and high cheekbones that lead into a strong, stubbled jaw.

There are scars on his face, too. A long silver scar slashes through this eyebrow and across his nose. Another cuts across the high point of his cheek.

He is so beautiful.

You watch as his cheeks turn pink and you belatedly realize you’d said that out loud. You shift to your knees on the mattress, reaching for his hand and pulling him toward you. He plants a knee on the soft surface and you guide him up until you’ve reached the pillows.

Stiffly, he lays beside you, head turned to watch you with those familiar blue eyes. You lay your head on his chest, sighing at the heat of his skin beneath your cheek. You wrap your arm around his waist and throw a leg over his hips, squeezing him tightly.

König doesn’t speak. He has an arm around your body, fingers pressing into the grooves of your ribs to hold you close. You breathe in tandem and his tense muscles begin to relax in your hold.

You shift your leg slightly, eyes going wide as you feel his cock against your knee. Feeling brave, you shift again, dragging your knee along the side of him.

His breathing stutters and you can feel his abs tense beneath you. You slide your hand across his chest, skimming your fingertips across the tight muscles.

“What are you doing, Kleine?” he asks. You lift your head from his chest to look at him.

“I want…can I—,” you stutter, losing your words at the dark look in the man’s eyes.

“I would let you do anything you wanted to me,” König says. “All you have to do is ask.”

You swallow nervously. “Can I touch you?”

“You are touching me,” he replies, a little smirk tilting his lips.

You ghost your hand across his straining length in retaliation. The smirk drops so fast you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

“What happened to all that cockiness, hm?”

“Do not tease.” His hips flex beneath your palm, grinding his cock against your hand. “I have very little patience for it.”

You sit up on your knees beside him, moving one of his thick thighs to the side with a press of your hand so that you can crawl between his legs. He looks down at you with half lidded eyes, an arm thrown behind his head to prop him up to see better. You curl your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” You ask. He nods.

Permission granted, you slowly work the elastic down until his cock bobs free, slapping obscenely against his abs. Your mouth waters at the sight of the thick, uncut length of him.

“Jesus Christ, König,” you mutter. “Where do you think this thing is going to fit?”

“Ideally? Down your throat and then your cunt,” he replies easily. When you look up at him with wide eyes, he grins so brightly you feel like you’re looking into the sun.

And you’d gladly go blind for it.

You lean forward, giving into the urge to dip your tongue against the divot of his hip, running it along the cut of his abs reverently. His hips jolt at the contact, a whine spilling from his plush pink lips.

“Scheiß,” the man growls. “Bitte, baby, please,” he begs.

You let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent vein there to the flared head. You swirl your tongue along the tip, gathering the bead of precum and swallowing it greedily.

König’s chest rises and falls rapidly with his heavy breathing, his large hands fisting your blankets so tightly you briefly worry his bones may crack. He watches you intensely, almost like he’s worried you may disappear if he so much as blinks.

“Relax, König,” you coo, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. “Let me take care of you.”

______

König has to think about the steps for disassembling a rifle to prevent himself from coming down your throat too quickly. The tight wet heat of your mouth feels so heavenly that for a moment, he worries that he may have actually taken a bullet to the chest on this last mission and he is actually in heaven.

But then you swirl your tongue around the sensitive head of his cock when you draw up his length and he realizes there would be no sin as glorious as this in heaven.

You eyes catch his as you slide him to the back of your throat, your lips straining around him as you try valiantly to take more of him than your limit allows. You gag around him, throating tightening exquisitely before you withdraw for a gasp of air.

You return to your task with admirable determination, eyebrows pinched together in concentration as you work to relax your throat and draw him in deeper.

“Just a little more, liebling, you can do it,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek, feeling the bulge of him in your mouth as his thumb traces the stretch of your lips around his cock. “Nimm das alles für mich.”

Your lips meet your small hand that is still wrapped around the base of him and you breathe deeply through your nose as you hold yourself there for a moment, throat fluttering around him. He groans, fighting the urge to flex his hips and drive himself even deeper.

“That’s it,” he whispers. Your eyelashes glisten with little tears, tiny pearls of wetness that speak to your efforts to please him. “That’s my baby.”

You moan around him as you pull back, his cock dropping from your mouth with an obscene pop. Your breathing is labored as you scramble up his body. König’s hands steady you with a grip around your waist as you reach for his face, tugging him into a messy kiss.

It’s a desperate clashing of lips and teeth and tongues that has König groaning, little whimpers slipping past your lips as he explores your mouth. Your teeth nip into his lower lip before trailing down his jaw and neck.

“Let me see you, Schatz,” he asks, a hand sliding up the back of your thigh to grip your ass and grind your body against his.

You flip beside him hastily, tearing your panties down your thighs and pulling your shirt over your head. Gloriously naked, you straddle his waist.

You’ve positioned yourself just out of reach of where he wants to feel you the most. His hands circle your waist, sliding up until his thumbs caress the underside of your breasts.

“So schön, meine liebe,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across one tight nipple. Your hips flex and roll across his stomach and he can feel the slick wetness drenching his abs.

“König,” you moan, blunt little nails curling into the hard muscle of his pecs. Your head drops back, the long line of your throat calling to his hand.

He gives into the impulse, wrapping his fingers around your delicate neck, not constricting but merely holding. Your eyes go wide, hands gripping his wrist as you lean into the hold, your hips still grinding against him.

“You are making quite the mess,” König comments with a grin. You shudder in his hold. “Do not worry, liebling, I have never been afraid to get dirty.”

You moan, the sound vibrating deliciously against the hand he still holds around your neck. Your hips still over him as your release courses through you, your eyes fluttering shut.

König releases your throat and you sag against him. He runs a hand down your sweat slick back, over the curve of your ass until he can slip a single finger into your still fluttering hole. You gasp against his neck and he smiles.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, working his hand against you. You make little whimpering noises, lips working against his neck as you rock back against him. He eases a second finger into your dripping pussy, which earns him the sting of your teeth against his skin. “Scheiß!”

_______

You push yourself up on shaky arms, staring down into König’s dark eyes. His fingers slip from your pussy and you whine quietly at the loss.

“Wanna fuck you, König, please?” You murmur.

“I would love nothing more,” he says. He takes his cock in hand. “Take it, liebling.”

You lift your hips to position yourself over him, the fat tip of him notched at your entrance as you start your slow descent. The stretch of him is almost too much to bear, and it must show in your face because he drags a soothing hand across your thigh.

“That’s it,” he coos.

You slide another inch further with a whimper. “You’re so fucking big,” you tell him breathlessly. He chuckles, his cock pulsing inside of you and making you moan.

“Just think about how good it will feel when it is all inside of you, mein süße,” he says. “Filling every inch of you.”

You moan, your body accepting another inch. Your thighs shake with your efforts.

König’s hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave fingertip shaped bruises that you’ll discover in the morning. On a deep breath, you lower yourself until you’re fully seated and stretched to your limit.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls. You meet his eyes, the blue nothing more than a thin ring around his blown pupils. His chest heaves as he breathes that same controlled rhythm you’ve watched him use before.

In…two…three…four…out.

You shift your hips experimentally, gasping at the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He wasn’t kidding about filling every last inch of you.

Pressing your hands to his chest, you lift your hips just barely off of him before dropping yourself back down. He moans, your name a curse and a prayer on his lips as you continue to build up a rhythm for yourself until you’re lifting almost fully off of him and slamming back down.

“Scheiß! Fuck!” König shouts as your pace picks up. “Mein perfekter kleiner Schatz.”

You lean forward to meet his lips, more of a sharing of breath than a kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you still as he thrusts up into you.

“König!” You cry, the slide and stretch and dull ache of him too much and yet not enough. His powerful thrusts are so deep at this angle that your eyes well with tears. Each drag of his cock from your pussy hits a spot that makes you see stars. “I’m gonna cum, please, König, please make me cum.”

“Anything for you,” he promises through gritted teeth, his hips picking up speed as he uses a hand on your ass to help slam you down on his cock. He turns his head, his nose brushing against yours tenderly in direct contrast to the way his hips pound against you. “Cum for me, engel. Let me see you.”

With a cry, you do just as he commands, your whole body going taught before sparking like a live wire, your release rolling over you so strongly it's more like a tsunami than a wave. He moans against your lips, hips pounding in an erratic speed as he works you through your orgasm and into his own.

“Fill me up, König,” you slur. “Wanna feel you. Bet you’ll get it so deep with your huge fucking cock.”

He comes with a deep groan, pressing up so deep as he spills inside of you that you gasp at the sensation, the warm heat of him filling you to the brim.

You collapse against him, the sweat on your bodies cooling in the chill of your apartment. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I missed you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I will always come back,” he whispers, smoothing the sweat damp hair from your forehead. “So long as you are here for me.”

You tug the blanket from the foot of the bed over your bodies, snuggling into his side. You enjoy the quiet together, his fingers drifting up and down your back. The rapid patter of paws on the wood floor announces the approach of your cat.

The orange tabby hops on the bed, walking on light feet until he reaches the pillow König rests his head on. He curls up along the top of the man’s head, purring contentedly.

“Hello, Toast,” he says. His eyes flick to you. “This is a good sign, yes?”

“I’d say it was an excellent sign,” you reply, kissing the man’s cheek. He smiles.

“Good. Because I think I will be here a while.”

Translations:

Scheiße - fuck

Danke - thank you

mein herz - my heart

Mein Liebling - my darling

Kleine - little one

Bitte - please

Nimm das alles für mich - take it all for me

Schatz - treasure

So schön, meine liebe - so beautiful, my love

mein süße- my sweet

Mein perfekter kleiner Schatz - my perfect little darling

engel - angel

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Zombie + Restoration Hobbyist Reader Blurb

-

"Blink once if you can hear me."

It calls to them from the darkness - a voice melancholic yet strangely robotic in its application. It's familiar - like something they've heard in a dream. They can't move. Their arms feel as though they're pinned beneath boulders. Their legs feel weightless. The place in their mouth were their tongue sat felt dry and... exposed. Left with no other choice, their eyelids flicker upwards. The flesh over their right eye feels to be constructed of foreign tissue - metal scrapping over the weight in the socket where their eye once was. The image of the figure standing over them is fleeting, lips pulled thin in an expression of approval.

"Blink twice."

Their eyes flutter open for a second time - remaining there as two finger pry apart the lids of their still functioning eye.

"Good. It's fortunate that you are still able to hear. At the moment, my fixes are merely cosmetic so I'm afraid you won't be able to see out of that eye of yours for some time. If you are like other patients I've had the issue will work out on its own."

Their eye rolls idly in their head - struggling to make out any features of the person through the blazing lights overhead.

"You must have questions. Forgive me- I wasn't expecting you to wake up before I had time to work on your jaw. Please use this to communicate if you wish, you can ask me anything."

Function to their left hand returns - their wrist raw and lacking the binding weight shacking it in place. Restraints? Smooth plastic rolls beneath their fingertip as they flex the stiff joints of their digits. Their fingers trace out the rectangular shape of the keyboard's space bar. Gliding gracelessly over the keys, a hand helps stabilize their moments as they begin to type. A computer monitor awakens from its sleep as words pop up on its screen.

"Where am I?"

A common question. "You are in my workplace. I repair things from time to time to keep myself busy. I found you in a creek nearby during a stroll the other night. Thankfully, you hadn't been in there long or I would've had to replace more than the skin of your eye."

Their hand draws up to their eye, feeling the odd texture over their eye. It's felt.

"I hate to bring up any bad memories from the past, but I need to ask in order to provide you with the care you require. Do you remember anything from the day you died?"

Died?... That's... honestly not the most surprising thing about this ordeal. A stabbing pain blisters at the back of their mind as they try to remember. A boat. A shotgun. Laughter. Tears. Please, no. It's not funny just put it down. Please. please-

"Boating trip. They said if I tagged along I could finally be apart of their group. I thought I could trust them. They said they were my friends. They said"

Their body lurches forward - fighting against the bite of their bonds. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why are they still here? Garbble wails ricochet off the bedroom walls. In their time of misery, another memory rushes to the forefront of their mind. Their body convulsing on an operating table. The gentle hushes of another as they pet back their hair - drying blackened tears from the corners of their eyes. A compassionate hand from the world that had abandoned them when they needed someone most.

"Hold me."

"What?"

"I remember.. Arms around me. A voice calling out to me. Promising me everything would be okay. That was you - right? Hold me. I don't want to be alone. Please, don't let me be alone anymore."

The hobbyist removes the glove from their dominant hand, wiping the leathery flesh were thick, congealing tears pool. You pull your newest patient closer - mindful of their stitches as you rub small circles along their spine.

"You can stay here as long as you like. While I'm not the most social person, I can't turn away someone who needs my assistance."

Their sobs are reduced to small whimpers as they cling into you - dying your apron in various fluids as their arm locks around your midsection in a vice grip. You grab onto their other wrist, preventing them from wrestling it out of their chains leaving you with more work in the future if their skin were to tear.

"I know this is a lot for you, but please try not to damage yourself further."

Their arm drops from your waist - fingers flying over the keyboard on a flurry.

"What's your name?"

"My name?... You can just call me Y/n."

[achilles-rage]

Return the Favour

summary: after buck saves reader when her apartment building goes up in flames, they run into each other at a bar. buck's on an awful first date, and reader decides to help him get out of it.

word count: 5.6k

request: I was wondering if i could request a story about Evan Buckley saving a plus size reader for like a fire or some dangerous situation and they're both attracted to each other but neither of them acts on. A few weeks later or so Buck is actually saved by reader while he's on a bad date he's trying to get out of and (like she makes up an excuse for him or plays along with something he says) and he ends up asking her out.

A/N: i'm sorry this took so long but it's finally out and i may have gotten carried away! this was my first buck request, and it was really fun! and i'm so used to writing good luck charm now that i had to search "evan" and change them all to "buck" at the end LOL also i threw in some abby shade, can you find it?? hehe. anyway, enjoy <3

warnings: reader is caught in a fire, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You wake up in the middle of the night to the fire alarm in your building echoing off the walls of your apartment. You’re immediately disoriented, as the booming sound makes your ears ring and your head spin. You jump out of bed and make your way out to your living room, and your breath catches in your throat when you see the smoke quickly filling the room. You make your way to your front door, but jump back in pain as the flat surface burns the back of your hand.

Dread fills your belly as you look around the room frantically. You see your cat cowering under your kitchen table, and you quickly run to grab her before she hides under anything where you won’t be able to reach her. You grab her and she lets out a loud meow, but you keep her squirmy body in your arms as you make your way to your window.

You’re four storeys up, and your landlord has still not fixed your fire escape, although you’ve been asking for months. Either way, you throw open your window, hoping to get some fresh air as smoke fills your lungs and burns your throat. 

You run to your room and grab your phone, quickly dialing 9-1-1 as tears form in your eyes.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the operator asks.

“3246 Weston St. My apartment building’s on fire.” you tell her frantically, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you struggle to get onto the fire escape with your cat still in your arms.

“Yes, we know about that. I see fire escapes on the outside of the building. Can you get down?” she asks you calmly, and you feel an odd sense of calm fill your body as her voice fills your ears.

“It’s broken, there’s no ladder. My landlord won’t fix it.” you tell her softly, squeezing your cat to your chest as more tears start to fall.

“What’s your name?” You answer her, sniffling softly.

“Hi, I’m Maddie. We’re gonna get through this together, okay? There’s already firefighter’s on the scene. Can you tell me what side of the building you’re on?” You shake your head, but then reply quickly, knowing she can’t see you.

“I don’t see any. I’m on the back side of the building, on the fire escape. On the fourth floor.” She mumbles an “okay” as she types on her computer. 

“Alright, I’m sending a team over to you, they’ll be right there. Is it just you in your apartment?”

“Just me and my cat.” you mumble, feeling a little silly at your response. The smoke is starting to waft out onto the fire escape, and it makes you cough loudly.

“I’m gonna stay right here with you, okay? We’re gonna get you down. The firefighters should be there now. Do you see them?” You wait for a moment as you look down at the ground, and your heart drops once you see the bright lights turn the corner.

“I see them.” you whisper, holding your cat tighter as the sirens spook her. You barely even hear Maddie’s response as your heart hammers in your chest. You make your way to the railing of the fire escape, watching as the aerial ladder is extended up to you.

You let out a sigh of relief once two very attractive firefighters are almost up to you on the ladder. You can’t help the embarrassment filling your body as you look down at your oversized shirt, with no bra, just long enough to cover your short spandex shorts, but you’re too happy to finally get off of your fire escape that you don’t care. 

“Eddie, you get the cat, I’ll get her.” one of them speaks, and the other one, Eddie, nods as he holds out his arms towards you.

You let out a soft sigh before you hand your cat to him, watching nervously as he starts making his way down the ladder with your cat twisting around in his arms. Buck takes this moment to trail his eyes down your figure, taking in your thick thighs and soft tummy. You’re absolutely gorgeous, but there’s no time for that.

“Alright, let’s get you down.” Buck tells you, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. You cross your arms instinctively as your eyes trail down the ladder. He senses your fear, and holds his hands out.

“I’m Buck. What’s your name?” he asks when you don’t make a move to the ladder. He sees the gears turning in your head as you mumble your name, and he smiles softly, rolling it around on his tongue, committing it to memory.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right behind you the whole time.” he says softly, trying to coax you out onto the ladder. Your eyes move to his hands before going back up to his face, and you nod slowly. You put your hands on the railing, ready to hoist yourself over the railing and onto the ladder.

“Alright, I’m gonna hold onto you to keep you steady. Is that okay?” he asks, and you nod as nerves fill your belly. He grabs onto your plush hips firmly as you swing one leg over the railing, and he helps guide your other leg over the ladder until your bare feet are on the ladder. 

“There you go, I got you.” he whispers once you’re pressed against him. He moves one hand off your hip and grips the railing of the ladder, then urges you to start making your way down backwards, with him going down first behind you. 

You close your eyes for a moment and let out a shaky breath, then start to move once you open your eyes again. He keeps one hand on your hip the whole way down, keeping his body tense in case you slip. He tries to keep his eyes respectfully on the back of your head, but he can’t help it when his eyes trail down to your ass, just barely covered by your shorts as your shirt rides up.

“You’re doing so good. Just a few more steps.” he speaks once you’re almost to the bottom of the ladder. You smile softly at his words, despite the way your heart is pounding out of your chest. His presence calms you.

Once you’re finally down on the ground, you turn to him with a shy smile. 

“Thank you.” you say softly, looking up at him.

“Of course. You should get checked out. Make sure you didn’t inhale too much smoke.” he tells you, returning your smile. Now that he has the chance, he studies your face. If he was still the old Buck, he would ask you out, loving your sweet voice, pretty face, and gorgeous body. But he doesn’t date people he meets on the job anymore, and he’s cursing himself for that rule right about now.

You let him take you over to the ambulance, and you’re surprised when he stays there with you. The fire is for the most part out, as a few other stations were also called, so he doesn’t feel bad staying with you. He stands in front of you as Hen checks you out, taking your cat from Eddie while he waits.

He can’t help but strike up a conversation as he pets your cat, desperate to know more about you. He asks where you’re from, and what you do, and even manages to ask if you’re single. He doesn’t flat out ask that question, but after asking about your apartment, he learns that you don’t often have people spending the night, and he’s relieved.

You learn more about him too. You learn that his sister is the operator that you spoke to on the phone, and that he’s from Pennsylvania. He tells you a little about his travels before he landed in LA, but there’s not much time to go into detail, as Hen finishes looking you over quickly.

He hands you back your cat, and your hands brush each other’s as you take her back. You both freeze at the small contact, lingering for a moment too long.

“Well it was nice to meet you. Thanks again.” you trail off as you look up at him. You want to see him again, but you’re sure he’s just this nice with everyone while on the job.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you too. Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” His voice has a hint of concern, thinking about you having nowhere to go. He lets out a relieved sigh as he sees you nod.

“My friend lives a few blocks away. I can get an Uber over there.” you reply.

“We’ll wait with you. Don’t want you alone out here.” Your smile widens at his kindness, and you can feel your cheeks heating up at his insistence, although you’re sure it’s probably just protocol. You feel butterflies in your tummy at the idea of him wanting to stay, regardless of the reason. 

In reality, he just wants to spend more time with you. He’s on the verge of asking you out, but as your Uber pulls up, he decides he shouldn’t. Maybe it’s better this way, he thinks.

You thank him once again before you get into the Uber, also thanking Eddie and Hen quickly, who are standing back and watching you and Buck with raised brows.

Once you’re in the car and it’s finally out of sight, Hen and Eddie can’t help but laugh. Buck turns to them with furrowed brows, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“What?” he asks as he fights back a smile, still thinking about you.

“For a second I thought you were gonna invite her to go home with you.” Hen teases him, bumping her shoulder with his as they walk back towards the front of the ambulance, which is right behind the fire truck.

“I don’t date people I meet on the job anymore; you know that.” he says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s a shame. You two were really hitting it off.” Eddie adds onto Hen’s teasing, smirking as they all walk side by side.

“Yeah, I know.” Buck murmurs, getting slightly upset. He’s starting to regret not asking for your number; he’s already desperate to see you again. 

He’s forced to push it aside quickly, however, as he hears Bobby’s voice over the radio calling the three of them to the front of the building for triage.

A few weeks later, you’re still staying with your friend, Jordan. You’re lucky, the fire had only gotten to a small part of your apartment, and most of your things were left untouched, but you still aren’t allowed back in your apartment. You immediately told her all about the cute firefighter, of course, and she was almost as upset as you were that you didn’t try to ask him out. 

You can’t help but think about him still; he’s the most attractive guy you think you’ve ever seen, and he’s kind, and funny. Either way, you were way too nervous at the time, and he was on the job. Even if you didn’t meet while he was working, you don’t think you would’ve said anything anyway. And he hadn’t said anything either, so you try your best to forget about him.

Buck spends the next few weeks thinking about you too. He even tried a dating app or two, hoping your photo would pop up on his screen, but to no avail. He thinks about your pretty face often, but his mind also seems to wander to your soft curves, and how your thick thighs were on full display for him to take in in your shorts.

He finally agreed to go out with another girl he met on an app, deciding he should just move on rather than driving himself crazy. He knows he could ask Maddie to pull up the call log and he could get your number, but he knows that would be weird. And a little bit creepy.

He’s sitting in a small bar close to his apartment, a small, absent-minded smile on his face as he stares across the table at his date. This is the longest date he thinks he’s ever had. It was very clear as soon as his date started talking that she has no interest in actually getting to know him, the first give away being that she chose the dimly lit dive bar. While he wouldn’t necessarily say no to it, that’s not really what he’s looking for anymore. 

He’s listening to a story of when she went on vacation to Colombia when he hears a soft laugh coming from the bar. His eyes trail over and see you standing there, talking to what he assumes is two of your friends.

His throat goes dry as he takes in your figure, studying your soft curves and slightly revealing outfit. He can hardly hear the woman across from him now, studying your every move and expression.

He tears his eyes away from you after a moment and refocuses on his date, not wanting to seem rude. He keeps his eye on you out of the corner of his eye, however, ready to run after you if you leave before his date ends.

He keeps listening to his date, who has barely let him get a word in, but he looks very clearly bored. He can’t help it; he tries to reply every time she pauses, but his heart is pounding. He finally found you, and it was a complete coincidence. Like fate.

You don’t notice Buck right away; you’re so wrapped up in your little girls night out to even look around the bar. It’s not until your friend Jordan points to him, saying how hot he is, that your eyes finally land on him.

You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face, and your eyes are trained on him for a few seconds until Jordan’s voice finally breaks through your haze.

“What?” she asks with a small laugh, and her smile fades when she sees the way you look over at her with a dazed expression

“It’s him. The firefighter.” you tell her, biting your lip as you look back over at him.

“You have to go talk to him. Before you lose him again.” Jordan tells you with a gasp as your other friend, Alyssa, asks what the hell you two are talking about.

Jordan explains to Alyssa while you think her words over. You don’t think you have it in you to go over. Maybe if you were much more drunk than you are right now, but currently, you wouldn’t be able to will your feet to move. 

“He’s on a date. I can’t just interrupt them. And what would I even say?” you argue softly once she’s finished explaining, looking over at Jordan. You chew the inside of your cheek nervously. The girl he’s with is gorgeous, and you begin to think that he was definitely just being so nice to you because he was working.

“Look at him. He looks so bored. He definitely doesn’t want to be there. Go save him.” Alyssa chimes in after she’s caught up, eyes glancing between you and him.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” you mumble, turning back to the bar and ordering a cocktail once you flag down the bartender. 

“Actually, we’ll just get 4 shots.” Alyssa says, smirking as she looks at you sideways. “You just need a shot or two in you, then you’ve gotta get over there. Before it’s too late. You’re gonna regret it if you don’t.” she tells you once the bartender walks away to get the bottle. 

You sigh, shaking your head. But before you can speak, the bartender puts the shots down on the table in front of you. Jordan immediately puts a shot in your hand and lifts it to your lips. You begrudgingly swallow it, letting in a sharp inhale as you feel it burning your throat. 

Your friends then each grab a shot and throw them back, then Alyssa grabs the last shot and holds it out to you.

“Come on, you just need some courage.” she teases, and you roll your eyes again before you take the shot. You were planning on drinking tonight anyway, and whether or not you’re going to go up to him, you figure you might as well take the shots. 

A little while later, you can feel the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’ve been swaying softly to the music as you talk to your friends, but your eyes never stray far from Buck. You always end up looking at each other at different times, so neither of you know that the other person knows of each other's presence. 

“I think now is your chance. He looks ready to kill himself.” Jordan tells you over the music, and all three of you look over at Buck’s table. He has a smile on his face, but his eyes lack any real emotion. 

You take a deep breath, and before you can even think, you let out a soft “okay.” Your friends smile widely, both taking turns to fix various parts of your appearance to make sure you look perfect. Jordan smooths down your top while Alyssa fixes your necklace, and then they both look up into your eyes.

“Go get him. Your ass looks great in those jeans, he’s gonna love it.” You feel your cheeks heating up at Alyssa’s words and you laugh softly. You can feel your hands shaking, but you quickly push your nerves aside and finally make your way over to him. He saved you once, and now it’s time for you to return the favour, although this situation is much lower stakes. 

“Oh my God, Buck! Hey!” you say once you reach his table, a large smile on your face. His eyes are on you in an instant, and he smiles widely, unable to stop his eyes trailing down to your cleavage peeking out of your top.

You open your arms, and he stands up quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist while you loop yours around his neck. 

“Do you want help getting out of this date?” you whisper in his ear, and you smirk as you feel his slight nod against your skin. “Follow my lead.”

You pull back, barely even looking at his date as you continue to speak. You’re glad he said yes, or else this would be really awkward.

“I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?” You don’t even give him the chance to reply before you turn to the girl.

“How do you know my ex-boyfriend? He’s a handful, I’ll tell you that. Good luck.” you tell her with a smirk. You turn back to Buck and look at him with as much desire in your eyes as you can muster, not that it’s hard, and he matches your expression immediately. 

You know this will work; most girls don’t want to have to deal with a guy that’s still so close with their ex. You see the girl’s face fall slightly from the corner of your eye, and you look back to her, waiting for her answer.

“Oh, um, we don’t really know each other that well.” she replies with a small smile, and you can see the way she tenses slightly, starting to feel a little awkward.

“Lucky you.” you tell her with a soft laugh, looking back up at Buck, whose arm has found its way around your waist. Even still, he keeps his hand hovering over your skin, just close enough for no one else to notice, not wanting to make you uncomfortable just in case you came over just to be nice. 

“I’m sorry. I should let you get back to your date.” you tell her, an apologetic look on your face, although your eyes have no hint of remorse. “Oh, and Buck, are you still coming over tomorrow night? My roommate’s going out of town.” you tell him, licking your lips. He nods, in a daze. He knows you’re not being serious, but he can’t fight the images that his mind is creating. 

“Actually, it’s getting pretty late. I should probably go.” she mutters, standing up from the table and putting her purse over her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll text you.” she tells Buck softly, but all three of you know she doesn’t really mean it. 

Once she’s out of sight, you turn to Buck, suddenly feeling your brain catching up to your actions. He senses your quick flip, and removes his arm from your waist, mumbling a quick “sorry.” 

“No, you’re good. I just don’t normally do stuff like this, and I’m just now realizing that. I’m sorry, maybe I had too much to drink.” you admit sheepishly, your face growing hot once again as you feel yourself rambling.

“No, I appreciate it. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about you since we met. I was gonna ask you out, but I sort of have this rule that I don’t date people I meet on the job.” he tells you, smiling down at you. He licks his lips as his eyes trace your face, studying it, memorizing it. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. He wanted to ask you out? The thought makes your stomach flip in excitement, and it causes a new wave of confidence to flow through you. 

“Well, you’re not working right now, right?” you tease him softly, a hopeful look on your face. 

“Yeah, I guess not. How about I buy you a drink?” he replies, his smile morphing to a smirk. You nod slowly, so focused on him that you don’t even think about your friends watching you from across the bar. 

You decide on something without alcohol instead once you get to the bar, not wanting to risk a hangover the next day. Your friends realize quickly that you aren’t coming back to hang out with them, and they’re happy for you. They keep an eye on you for an hour or so, but when they realize how into each other you are, they decide to leave.

You talk for hours, talking about anything and everything, until the bartender does final call, and you both realize how long you’ve been talking. 

“I guess I should get home.” you say with a sigh. Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much, and you’ve drifted so close together over the last few hours that you don’t even notice his leg has settled between yours as you sit on the bar stools. You wouldn’t have to lean very far to connect your lips, you think to yourself.

“Or, you could come back to mine?” he asks with hope in his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this; he wants to take you on a proper date first, but with the way you’re looking at him, he can’t stop the words that slip from his mouth. You bite your lip as you fight back a smile, but nod after a moment.

“Okay.” you murmur, and that’s all it takes for him to grab your hand and drag you to his jeep, but not before slamming some cash on the bar counter. You laugh as he drags you outside, amused by his eagerness. Once he gets to his jeep he pushes you against it, meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. 

A soft noise escapes the back of your throat as your back hits the door, but you happily kiss him back. Your arms make their way around his neck again and one hand lands in his hair, your fingers weaving through it. He keeps his hands on your hips, but he’s itching to touch you everywhere. 

He pulls back after a moment and opens the door, his pupils blown and his jeans getting tighter. You smile up at him and then get into the jeep, watching him dreamily as he makes his way to the driver’s side. 

He keeps his hand on your thigh the whole way home, rubbing your inner thigh with his thumb. He squeezes your flesh every now and then, smiling over at you each time, and once he pulls into his building parking lot, he’s quick to jump out of the car and jog over to your side. 

He keeps his hands on you the entire way up to his apartment, trailing up your sides, and once you walk into his apartment, he pushes you against the wall and meets your lips again in a dizzying kiss. 

He slides his tongue into your mouth, and both of your hands are clawing at each other, eager for more. His hands travel down to the back of your thighs, and he whispers “jump” against your lips. You hesitate for a moment, nervous about him lifting you up. He picks up on your hesitancy and pulls back for a moment with a smirk. He grabs the back of your thighs hard and lifts you up, pinning your back to the wall once again.

His lips are immediately back on you, kissing and nipping down your neck to your collarbone. You’re so focused on his lips on you that you barely have time to react to his strength. You’re not used to being lifted like this, and it makes desire pool between your legs. 

He pulls back from your neck and pulls you off the wall, keeping his hands under your thighs as he moves to the stairs. You look over your shoulder at where he’s heading, and your arms tighten around his neck as you laugh softly. Your head is spinning as he walks up the stairs; he lifts you up so effortlessly, and you can’t wait to see how else he puts his strength to use. 

He throws you onto his bed, staring down at you as you sit up on your elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly as lust overtakes every sense. He smirks as he takes in your body sprawled out on his bed. He looks down your body, taking in your chest, and your plush belly, and your thick thighs, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he mumbles before he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the end of the bed, making you squeal softly.

The next morning, you wake up naked in a room you don’t recognize, as you were too focused on Buck last night to notice anything around you. The events from last night flood your mind as you feel an arm firmly draped across your waist, and you can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face. 

You can hear his steady breathing from behind you, and you know he’s still asleep. It’s probably early, you think, as the hint of light coming in from the bedroom window looks like the sun hasn’t quite broken over the horizon.

You try to move his arm slowly, seeing his bathroom door connected to his bedroom. As you do, you feel his grip tighten, and he pulls you tighter against him.

“Where do you think you’re going? I just found you again, I’m not letting you go this soon.” he teases in a raspy voice, just barely above a whisper. You laugh softly and turn in his grip to face him, smiling as you take in his sleepy eyes and soft smile.

“I’m just going to the bathroom.” you whisper back, as if trying not to ruin the calmness surrounding you both. He groans, and finally releases you after a moment, but not before he leans in for a soft kiss. He turns to lay on his back, folding his arms behind his head to watch you walk to the bathroom. He smirks as his eyes observe your bare figure, licking his lips.

Once you’re done in the bathroom, you go back to bed, laying on your side beside him and resting your cheek on his chest. He grabs your thigh as you drape your leg across his hips, humming softly as he feels your soft skin. 

“You want some breakfast?” he asks after a little while, giving you both some time to wake up. You raise your head and rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, nodding. He smiles as his eyes glance across your face, admiring the way the sun is hitting your face, having finally breached the horizon. 

He then leans down to give you a soft kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to your cheek. Once he pulls away, you keep your eyes closed for a moment, reveling in his touch and warm gaze.

“What kind of breakfast?” you whisper once you open your eyes. He shrugs before he speaks, still trying not to disrupt the comfortable quiet surrounding you.

“Anything you want. Eggs, waffles. I’m pretty skilled in the kitchen.” he teases, winking. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. How is he still single? Cute, kind, smart, and a good cook? You can’t believe it.

“Do you have strawberries and blueberries?” you ask softly, smiling once he nods. “Let’s make waffles.” 

He nods at your words, sighing loudly and stretching before he sits up slowly. You move off of him and watch as he gets up and puts on some grey sweatpants, and your eyes wander down his body quickly, making him chuckle. 

You get up and find your bra and panties on his floor, putting them on quickly. You debate on putting back on your jeans and top from last night, afraid Buck’s shirt wouldn’t fit you in a cute oversized way, but you decide against it. It’s too early for jeans, and with the way he was worshiping your body last night, you don’t think he’d turn down the opportunity of watching you walking around his kitchen so exposed.

He pulls you into another kiss once you’re semi-dressed, his hands making their way to your cheeks. You smile against his lips, and bite your lip gently once you pull back, and he keeps his eyes closed for a moment. 

“Jump.” he whispers after a moment, and you oblige this time, letting him lift you in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he makes his way to the stairs.

“You really don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know.” you say with a soft laugh. You turn your head to watch where he’s going, arms tightening around his neck instinctively as he reaches the stairs.

“Nuh uh, come on. I saw your face last night. Don’t lie, you love it.” he teases you, squeezing your thighs. You shake your head and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you realize that he noticed. 

Once you get to the kitchen he sets you down on the counter, his hands lingering on your hips as he tries to memorize the sight of you, almost naked on his kitchen counter, your soft belly on full display for him. He backs away slowly as he takes one final look, then turns and starts grabbing ingredients from the pantry and fridge. 

You notice he’s making waffles from scratch, and your heart swells at the thought of him putting in so much effort. You try to tell him you can help, but he cuts you off, insisting that all he wants you to do is to “sit there and look pretty,” which makes you giggle. You can’t help feeling giddy around him; you feel like a lovesick teenager.

Once he’s finished with breakfast, you slide off the counter and make your way to the kitchen table. He brings the berries, the maple syrup, and some whipped cream over, and you both dig in.

He waits to see your reaction, and grins widely when he sees you moan softly in contentment, closing your eyes. You look over at him as he admires you, and you look down, smiling softly, not used to this kind of attention. 

“Can I take you out?” he asks you halfway through breakfast. He chuckles softly as you look up at him with a raised brow, and he reaches up to wipe a bit of whipped cream off your upper lip. 

“You already took me out.” you reply softly, licking your lips after his thumb brushes over them.

“That doesn’t count, we just happened to be there at the same time. I want to take you out for real. A nice dinner, maybe a walk or something after, get some ice cream. What do you say?” he corrects you, giving you a wink. You smile, nodding as you mumble a soft “okay.” 

Once you’re finished with breakfast, he leads you to the couch and wraps a blanket around both of you. You’re leaning against his chest and his arm is draped on the back of the couch behind you, which makes your stomach flip.

He turns on a movie, but you’re too busy talking and laughing with each other to really pay attention. As he looks down at your pretty face, his smile stays plastered to his face. He’s so glad he agreed to that God awful date, and that you were willing to help him out of it, because now that he has you, he never wants to let you go.

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