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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

Text

Strangers

john price x fem!reader | masterlist | ao3

interwoven; maledicted

John Price remembers every life he's ever lived. When death takes him in one universe, he's born into the next with all his memories and past experiences still intact. Throughout the lives he's lived, you're the only thing that ever seems to quell the ache in his chest, and he spends every life searching for your comfort. Except, in this life, he's too late

cw: soulmate!au, murder, suicide, feticide, kidnapping, drugging, possessive john price, non-con elements, one shot, dead dove: do not eat!!!

In every life you’ve ever lived, John Price finds you.

He’s drawn to you like an animal is drawn to its cage. The glint of the metal bars look like stars if he squints hard enough, and the smell of blood and iron is the fairest perfume in the world. There is no life that he wishes to live without you in it. Tucked close to his chest in bed at night. Curled up underneath his thumb. Where you go, he follows you, hidden in the shadows until he’s ready to reveal himself as the soulmate who’s been tracking you across eons worth of lives.

It’s a simple curse. One that’s haunted him since he first poofed into existence so long ago he can’t recall how much time has passed. Forever bound to remember every life he’s ever lived while everyone else debates the possibility of a god or heaven, forgetting their reincarnated selves in other universes. It’s a particularly lonely ailment. He had been locked in chains in one life for attempting to convince the world that there was life after death, not through a god, but through sheer human will. Had to sever the artery in his tongue with his teeth and drink down his blood to escape a life of imprisonment, and just like he knew he would, he woke up in his next life a free man.

These days, he spends his lives on something more worthwhile: you. Just as he does, you look the same in every universe with a smile he knows by touch alone and a laugh that is the only melody that can soothe the immortal ache in his chest. He’s fried his brain with drugs and killed his liver with drink, forever carrying the burden of memory, and yet throughout his travels, you remain the only thing capable of soothing that terrible ache that haunts him. If death has already taken you in one life, he kills himself and moves onto the next, a wild man forever on the hunt for you.

The only other thing that stays consistent throughout his many lives besides the desire to be yours, is the taste of fresh tea. He prefers Yorkshire tea, but the Earl Grey they substitute at the shop is fine enough. Quiet muttering fills the air around him as he sits in the corner of the shop, alone with his thoughts. He takes a sip of the tea, allowing the hint of lavender to wash over his tongue as if cleansing him. It’s the only thing that tastes and smells like home. Besides you, of course; but he hasn’t found you yet, and it’s getting late.

Usually, he’s lucky enough to find you by the time both of you are in your twenties. It’s easy to win you over at that age. He holds a maturity well beyond his years, and you hold a wide-eyed innocence that has you in his grasp before you even realize it. But he’s in his thirties, and that has him anxious. Too much time has passed — a decade more than usual — which leaves him with a variety of possibilities. Ones he doesn’t like entertaining.

No matter. He’s learned to be somewhat patient over the countless lifetimes spent searching for you, because it always pays off in the end. All the marriages, the children you have, the love you make. John Price is the luckiest man in the world, being able to replay his favorite memories with you for all eternity. He could never tire of you, would never dream of such a terror.

So when the bell attached to the shop door rings with the entrance of another customer, it quickly turns to music to his ears when he sees you. Afternoon sunlight illuminates the world behind you, blinding him with the beauty you carry across universes and worlds. Your familiar eyes scan the area briefly, hardly paying him any mind before you approach the counter with a grace and poise that has his heart thudding in his throat. He can never get used to the first time. The first time his eyes land on you, he hears your voice, or skin touches yours; it’s the only thing that can tear him apart as well as you do.

He tries not to stare at your ass when you order your drink. It’s always been his favorite physical feature of yours. There’s something different about this version of you, yet still familiar. Nothing is ever entirely unknown to him, not when it concerns you, but you’re glowing more than usual. It’s captivating in a way that makes him feel like a dog, looking at a woman in such a perverse way, but he knows you like it when he stares. You always have in every other life.

When the barista hands you a to-go cup, John knows he doesn’t have long before you slip away. Such a sharp girl, quick on her feet. Always buzzing around, never staying in one place for too long, as if the imprint of your soul enjoyed the chase of him following after you. It’s a game he enjoys very much; one he doesn’t mind entertaining at all.

John rises from his seat, cup still half full, where he slips to the door just as you turn around to leave. His pace is leisurely, certainly in no rush as his hands reach out for the exit, only for him to pause. How silly of him to have left his drink behind, the only reason he even came to that shop in the first place. When he turns around, it’s quick and violent, and catches you so off guard you run right into him.

Piping hot tea splashes around in your to-go cup, and if it wasn’t for John’s quick reflexes and a firm grip on your wrist, you would’ve gotten yourself hurt. Your gasp is sweet and melodic on his ears, and he nearly melts under your gaze as your wide eyes stare at him. Your surprise is cute. As if you couldn’t remember meeting him in countless different universes like this.

“Terribly sorry, darling,” he says as if surprised. His grip loosens on your wrist just as his other hand comes up to rest on your waist. It’s quick, he knows; but in some way, you’re already used to it. “You alright?”

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and once you do, John feels you slip out of his grasp as you take a step back. Both of your hands come up to hold the cup, afraid of dropping it, and you give him a polite smile and nod.

“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage as you chuckle and gesture to your drink.

John’s hands mourn the absence of your warmth, yet he allows them to politely fall back against his side. His lips yearn to be on yours. For him, this isn’t a first time greeting, but a long awaited reunion. Still, he calms his nerves and hardens them to steel as he chuckles with you.

“Would’ve hated for you to have gotten hurt,” he comments as his eyes glance down at your legs. The brief thought of that searing hot liquid broiling the supple skin of your thighs invades his mind before he can push it away. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Whatever your response is, he can’t hear it. The dazzling bling of your betrayal drowns out the sound of your voice and everything around him. It’s beautiful; your ring. Its gemstone glints in the sunlight streaming through the windows as if attempting to blind him. No, not blind him. Something worse. It screams at him the very thing he had feared for the last few years; he was too late. Bound to another man in matrimony, a silly mistake you had made before ever seeing the light.

The aftertaste of tea suddenly tastes putrid on his tongue. His sweet mate, too impatient to wait for him in that lifetime. You’d fucked other men in other lives, and though it had always made his stomach turn, John could understand. But marriage?

His teeth threaten to shatter under the pressure of his clenching jaw.

When the sound comes back to him, his eyes comprehend the expression on your face. Discomfort — near disdain. In this universe, John Price is not your lover. He is a man, and only that. One who just so happens to be barring you from the exit.

He remembers himself, and smiles at you kindly as he quickly steps to the side, muttering an apology with a jaw that’s much too stiff. And still, he reaches behind him to hold the door open for you, and despite your apprehension you thank him quietly and say goodbye before you vanish into the streets. Your smell lingers in the air next to him for only a moment before it dissipates and drowns in the aroma of herbs and teas. His face goes cold as he glares at the corner where his now cold tea sits.

This was the first life he ever lived where you married a man that wasn’t him. Something broke. Shattered in his chest where the shards cut him apart from the inside out. When he breathes in, he can smell the blood pooling inside of him and it wakes him up to the terrible realization that — for once in his many, many lifetimes — he’s late. He’s late, and he doesn’t know what to do.

As the sweet smell of tea fades and is replaced by the putrid aroma of London, John tells himself to let it go. So what he wasted thirty plus years just for your heart to already be stolen away from him? There’s a millennia behind him, and a millennia ahead of him. When one life doesn’t go right for him, there’s always the next. Yet as pavement turns to brick and The Thames sprawls out in front of him beyond metal bars, he finds himself hesitating. The idea of letting go can’t quite sink its tendrils into his mind, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the barrier in front of him.

Bitter wind bites at his face as he looks at the water below him. Hesitation. He doesn’t know why it paralyzes him. There’s never been any need or use for second guesses, because he’s always known what’s waiting for him on the other side. All he needs to do is lift his leg, hoist himself up, and then let gravity do the rest. He’s done it before, in some other life. He’s felt his body hit the frigid water with needle-like pain blossoming across his skin just before it swallows him whole. It’s not an easy way to die, but it’s the only thing violent enough that has the capability of smothering the bitterness growing in his heart.

The answer to his confusion comes as a whisper on the back of his neck, where it tingles until it reaches the base of his spine and flutters throughout every cell of his body. Principle. It’s the principle of it all. In every single life, you’ve been his lover, his wife, the mother of his children, and if you are not, then you are dead. Rotten. Decaying in some grave by the time he finally finds you. You’re not just his desire, the love of his life, his reason for being; you are his right.

How long can someone love a soul before it becomes theirs? Before it’s ripped out of their lover and tucked safely away into a cage?

John chuckles as his hand slips from the railing, and he slides them into his pockets as if he had been enjoying the view of grey water and even more grey skies this entire time. Kill himself? No; you’ve been his this entire time. You just don’t know it yet.

He’s only ever done this a few times before; kidnap someone. In a few of his past lives, he’s been a soldier. A stone-hardened man who’s stolen families as bartering tools to make terrorists talk when their mouths were otherwise sealed shut. Killing is a good way for him to let out the anger that builds in a man’s soul after so long, and though he prefers to keep it to people who deserve it, his fingers can’t help but twitch as he watches your husband drop you off at the yoga studio.

Doesn’t he — your husband — deserve it? Death? Shouldn’t he pay the ultimate price for stealing you away from your true lover? The man who’s looked after you for eons? John wants to do it. Kill him. Smell the sanguine aroma that mixes with the harsh gunpowder that expels after a bullet is shot. He wants to, and he could do it, but murder muddles things up more than he would like, and though he’s good at covering his trail, he’d rather steal you away without incident. He’s been carefully plotting this ever since he saw you in that tea shop all those days ago; he can’t ruin it.

A smile pulls at his lips as he thinks about the look on your husband's face, when his pretty little pretend wife doesn’t return home. When he realizes how he’s failed you.

John’s hands tap at the steering wheel as he waits, patient as ever, for your session to end. Silly of you to go to a night class, really. Even sillier of your husband to allow such a terrible thing. If anything, it's greater proof that this new man in this new life isn’t good for you. It could have been anyone sitting in that car park, waiting for you to leave. Waiting to take you home.

Good thing it’s only him.

John exits the car just before eight. Cool air does its best to calm the electricity sizzling in his veins, but ultimately it’s his own mind that stills his nerves. Everything is planned out in his mind with moves expertly rehearsed in a past now forgotten, yet still ingrained in his memory; he knows he’ll get exactly what he wants. You. It’s all he craves. All he ever does.

You exit the studio with a laugh and a wave goodbye to the other women in your yoga class. That pathetic husband of yours is late, which only proves to be good fortune for John as he slips by your side. His feet are dangerously silent on the pavement and his arm is just as warm as ever as he wraps it around your waist, blade in hand. Even through the fabric of your shirt its point is noticeably sharp, and your feet stumble as he presses it against you in warning.

“Not a word, darling,” he whispers, too saccharine to be a stranger.

You listen, just like he knew you would, and he steers you away from the pavement and into the car park. It’s difficult for him not to chuckle as he recalls you in another life. How you once batted your pretty lashes at him, all but begging him to use a knife in bed with you. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel the cold sting of it against your skin. He wonders if some part of you feels that way in this life.

Once you reach the car, he slips the zip ties over your wrists in a single fluid motion before opening the door for you. Any onlookers would just think he’s being a gentleman helping you into the car like that, but there’s a method to his madness. As soon as you’re seated into the passengers side, your eyes meet his and they widen with terrified recognition. Not quite the look he hoped for from you, but your expression quickly melts away the moment a needle pierces through your pants and into your thigh. All that’s left to do is buckle you in and drive off.

He likes to pretend he’s carrying you to your honeymoon room as he curls you up into his arms. A sweet bride, passed out against his chest as he carries you to bed, safe in the confines of the cage he’s spent that entire lifetime preparing for you. You don’t stir when he places you in bed, but he lays down next to you as if both of you are resting. He lays in front of you so he can see your face while it’s peaceful; not while it’s twisted with confusion and disgust like it was in the tea shop a few days ago. No, he likes you much better like this. Quiet and pliant.

The tips of his fingers trace the features of your face, and it’s a dance he’s grown to have well memorized. They brush your lips and the tip of your nose before dipping underneath your jaw where they continue to wander. It doesn’t feel wrong, even though he knows you’d beg to differ. He’s done this before, in a life you don’t remember. Touch you like this. Feeling the dip between your breasts and the skin of your stomach. He pats your hands, still bound together with a zip tie — he tells himself he’ll remove them once you start behaving — before caressing your thighs. He wants to slip upwards, to brush his thumb against your clit just like how he knows you like it, but he refrains. He’ll wait until you wake up to do that. Your gasps are always sweeter when you’re aware.

The sweet bliss of numb eternity melts away as the drugs begin to wear off, and when your eyes flutter open you’re met with the face of a stranger. Truly, he’s not a stranger at all. Or, at least that’s what John would have you believe with the knowing smile he gives you. Your bound hands move up and press against his chest, desperately attempting to earn some space between the two of you. This only makes him laugh, and his hand rests on top of yours.

“Easy, darling,” he soothes.

An incoherent response stumbles out from your lips just as fearful tears swell in your eyes. His hand pants yours against his chest before he frowns. The gemstone on your wedding ring stands out like a sore thumb against his palm, and it serves as a stark reminder as to why he had to do all this in the first place. You don’t — or can’t — fight against him as he slips the ring off your finger and places it on the nightstand next to him. He’ll dispose of it properly another time, but for now he just can’t stand to see that proof of ownership on you.

“Please.” It’s the first word you’re able to slur out, and John hangs onto the syllable like it’s dessert. “W-Whatever you want… please… my husband, h-he’ll give it to you just… let me go, please.”

Husband. He hates that word on your lips when it’s not in reference to him.

“I’ve already gotten what I want, love,” he whispers.

Your eyes wrench shut and tears fall free at the realization that there’s nothing you can do to get away from this crazed man. He shushes you as he holds your face in his hands and presses his lips against your forehead. It’s not enjoyable, the way you recoil from him, but giving you the same love he’s given you in every other life feels right. It feels more wrong to withhold it from you.

Because this is his right, isn’t it? Of course it is, and in some sort of way, you seem to know this too. Your hands no longer press against his chest in disdain, and it’s all too easy to prop himself up on his elbow and press his lips against yours. The pressure is firm, as if he’s holding himself back from taking more from you. He groans at the taste of salt on your lips, and nearly chuckles at the way you tremble. It’s a one-sided embrace that you refuse to return, but he tells himself you’ll learn otherwise soon enough.

When John pulls away, your eyes refuse to focus on him as the shame eats you from the inside out. Your entire body is limp, bound hands resting against your stomach as he sits up. Deciding you’ve been behaving well enough, he reaches for the knife on the nightstand and he turns back to you, ready to cut the ties from your wrists.

The very moment the glint of the knife catches your eye is the moment you begin to squirm. Legs thrash and mess up the sheets as you scramble away from him until your head and back is pressed against the headboard. Your chest heaves violently as your terror overtakes you, and John pauses as you retreat. He’s never seen you look at him like that; not in any life he’s ever lived.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises.

“Please don’t,” you beg, his assurance falling on deaf ears. Your pleas turn into mindless stuttering for a moment before something visibly breaks in you, forcing you to share a secret that feels like sealing your death: “Please, you can’t just- I- I’m pregnant! Please!”

Everything stops. The world. His heart. It all falls quiet except for the sound of your hyperventilating which is almost as deafening as the ringing in his ears. Pregnant. Anything kind in John’s eyes dies quietly as he clenches the knife in his hand.

Pregnant. Not with his child. It must be a lie — it has to be a lie. You don’t look pregnant. There is no swelling of your stomach. Yet your hands lie on your lower abdomen as if you’re cradling something. Cradling someone. You have never been good at lying in any of your lives, and the candor sheen in your eyes tells him you’re not good at lying in this one, either.

John tells himself he only wants to embrace you. To mourn the life the two of you could have had if you only behaved. He doesn’t register why you’re screaming until the blood covers his hands, and then you fall quiet. His knife sinks into your stomach like it’s butter, and it pulls free from you even easier. You stare up at him, confused. As if you can’t comprehend why he would do this to you.

Ichor flows free from you like a river, and all you can do is gasp and paw at your wound. Your legs flail as John pulls you against his chest, chin resting on top of your head as if this is something he can soothe away with a hug. It’s not. He can’t soothe away your betrayal. Can’t come to terms with the fact you carry another man’s child when you should be carrying his.

“I know,” he shushes with a strained voice. “I know. It’ll be over soon.”

Your death is not kind, and he mourns every minute you bleed in his arms until you eventually still. It’s only when your blood goes cold that he allows himself to cry. Angry, hot tears that sear his skin as they soak into your hair. Damn this ruined life. Damn the years he wasted trying to find you only for you to be soiled by the time you were in his grasp. He hates the gore that stains your being, but he assures himself it was necessary.

In every life, you belong to him. In the lives that you don’t, you’re already dead.

John carefully places your body back on the mattress where he takes in the sight of you. There’s no more glow to your skin, not like there was while you were alive. But you’re dead, and he knows the life inside of you is dead, too. He tries to take comfort in that fact before angling the knife towards himself.

Killing himself is easier than killing you, as driving the knife into his throat is a well practiced motion. It’s something he’s done before, and he’s so used to it he doesn’t even groan at the sting as the blade slices his artery. Darkness is quick to cloud his vision as the blood loss overwhelms him, and he sputters and stares down at your cold body below. There is little comfort he feels when his blood meets yours on the stained sheets of the bed he wished to love you on. The mixing of blood is the only bond the two of you will ever have in that life.

He coughs as he falls forward. Soon, he has no use for any sort of comfort at all.

There is no blood in your next life. No iron taste in your mouth, or rotten flesh haunting your nose. No, there is only ink, paper, and well loved books.

You love your job. Books are your livelihood; the tool you use to escape reality on rainy days, so it only makes sense that in this life you work as a librarian. The building is dated with poorly insulated windows, and a bell that chimes as another patron enters, but that’s what makes it charming. Millions of words have been consumed in that library, and they linger in a way that never leaves you feeling alone.

Several books sit tucked safely in your arms as you wander aisles, on the hunt to return them home. Every shelf is well memorized. You could find any book in that building blind folded, and you hum to yourself as you go to return Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself to its rightful home on the top shelf of the WXYZ aisle.

Your feet are nimble as you climb the step stool to reach the shelf. It nearly reaches the ceiling, which is no small feat for a building of that size. Your arm stretches over your head and you breathe in the scent of stale paper and well loved books. Just as your fingers slide the item into place, the stool below you jerks, and your stomach drops as you fall to the side.

The books in your arms tumble onto the ground, but you’re saved from that same fate as a pair of arms swoop around you. You squeak as your hands grip the shirt of your savior, and you look up with wild eyes at the man. John Price is younger in this life when he finds you. In his twenties this go around. His face is clean shaven, but his eyes still hold the wisdom of forgotten ages and dead worlds.

“Terribly sorry, darling,” he apologizes. His grip on you loosens, but he doesn’t quite cut you free just yet. “You alright?”

“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage through a breathless chuckle.

There’s an innocence in your eyes that has John smiling at you. His hands are kinder in this life. The angry claws that ended your previous life don’t exist anymore. They do not wield a knife in anger; they only hold you with unbridled adoration. It’s the way things are supposed to be, with you in his arms and looking up at him with that innocent gaze, just the way he likes you. For a moment, John worries that you somehow recognize him when you tilt your head, yet as you bashfully return his smile, he takes comfort in knowing that you don’t remember anything.

You don’t remember anything at all.

#core writes #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #fucked up soulmate au #f!reader

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 8 months

Text

waking up in his bed

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, marks, a bit of spit stuff, dry (wet?) humping, swallowing)

part before: hanging off König's shoulder

When I open my eyes up again, for just a moment, I don’t know where I am. My own confused image stairs back at me – right, the mirror on his ceiling! And I laugh to myself because it’s ridiculous. The whole concept is!

I stretch myself, yawning. Realising that I’m alone in the kingsize bed. I mean, it would be impossible to miss the big guy. I still feel his lingering touches, the way he held onto me as we fell asleep together. Reminders of the first time hooking up after the concert.

I’m somebody who normally can’t sleep in a tight embrace, but he was pratically latching onto me both times. Subconsciously in his sleep. Holding onto me, softly still. If it were possible for him to wrap himself around me completely, I bet he would’ve done it. His big arm resting over my torso, the forearm securely between my breasts, his hand on the side of my face. One of his legs strewn over one of mine. Almost like a human weighted blankie. And I still slept soundly.

I yawn and stretch again, until I notice a little piece of paper stuck to my arm. I peel it off and look at it.

That explains where he went off to, but it also makes him out be a liar, because I don’t believe I look anywhere near cute in the morning. Drooling into the soft pillow underneath my head. My hair standing off to the side. Probably snoring as well.

And I have to laugh as I see the little doodle in the right corner. Honestly, it’s a relief to see – considering the man’s many talents – that he isn’t good at everything. Drawing doesn’t seem to be his forte. But at the same time, this was painfully cute. The note, the doodle, everything. I giggle to myself and finally pull back the covers.

I assess the ‘damage’ while I get up: Booty hurts a little bit, probably from getting fucked into the hard wood surface of the bar. The muscles in my legs are a little tense, my shoulders and neck feel a bit stiff, and my pussy is a little bit sore (and deeply satisfied). The hickeys and the faint bitemark on my inner thighs bring a little smile to my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if he had written ‘König was here’ in waterproof sharpie on them.

I put on my shirt, still not daring to take one of his because of how it might look, and curse myself because I didn’t pack more clothes. It’s not terribly stinky or stained, but it definitely looked better yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, my eyes darting to the shower, remnants of last night in the forefront of my mind before I go on a search for my panties.

I find them on the floor in the bar, the memories of yesterday flooding me, the forgotten cocktail still on the bar. He had to make another one, because the icecubes had already melted and the gin was warm.

I leave the cellar going up the stairs until I stand in the living room again, looking at the books I set aside yesterday.

There is another crystal tumbler on the end table, this one empty. Just one because we shared it.

The glass moving from my hand to his and back, while we were listening to music, talking. Cuddling on the couch. My legs splayed over his thighs, barely reaching all the way to the other side. His arm around my waist, his thumb painting little circles over my hip. My fingers tangled in his hair and digging into the scalp, massaging gently until he was humming quietly.

His mouth placed on the glass where mine was, just a moment before, taking another sip.

Lingering kisses, slow and sweet, turning into little sips of the drink being passed between us. Tasting him and the gin at the same time. A heady combination.

I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier the later it got, until I yawned and almost fell asleep in his arms, then he finally got me to agree that we should head to bed.

I hear the front door open, the sound ripping me from my memories. I turn around, skipping in that direction.

König is standing in the hallway, taking off his shoes, a grocery bag in his hands. In his usual leatherjacket, shirt and… sweatpants? Casual black sweatpants. Yeah no, I totally feel normal about them. I can’t help but ogle him, because he looks like a wet dream, even in the most mundane outfits.

He sees me, his face lighting up in a grin. “No pants again, huh?”, he comments, his eyes dropping down my body.

I blush. “Uh, I can put some on, if it bothers you.”

He laughs. “Doncha dare hide that cute ass of yours.” He comes closer and leans down, dropping a kiss onto my mouth and his hand to my ass. Patting it twice, quickly and playful. “I almost didn't want to leave bed this morning...”, he whispers against my lips and deepens the kiss, for just a moment.

“I got your note.”, I say as we tumble into the kitchen.

He puts the shopping bag down on the counter. “Yeah, went to the supermarket. And I also got us some croissants from the bakery.”

“The little shop at the corner to Main Street?”, I ask.

“Yes.”, he smiles.

“Hell yeah, I love their croissants, they're the best.”, I exclaim.

“Baked goods, the only thing the french are good at.”, he comments pointedly.

“Oh man, you and the french.”, I laugh as I hop onto the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker. Watching him unpack the groceries and getting said baked goods.

He pulls one croissant out of the brown paper bag and hands it to me unceremoniously. I grab it and take a bite, the flakey dough bursting as my teeth cut through it. The little sigh that drops from my lips sounds a little too enamored, a little too enthused for just eating a croissant. He looks at me, his jaw dropping just a bit.

“What?”, I ask, still munching on the pastry dough.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head mumbling something that sounds a bit like "never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking croissant".

That makes me laugh. "Thanks for getting them, but you didn't need to get up early for that."

He shrugs. "I'm an early bird anyway out of habit, and I had to go out and buy some milk, because I forgot about that.", he explains, pulling said milk out of the grocery bag.

I look at him, a little confused.

"I drink my coffee black, so I never have any milk at home.", he adds, as if that was a given.

A grin stalks on my face. “Of course you do.”, I say pointedly.

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?”, he asks.

I tilt my head and pull my brows up, all like 'are you being serious?'. “Let's just say that I would have been way more surprised if the over 40-year-old metalhead, who has a car that looks like it's from the nineties, who still collects vinyls and CDs, who would rather drink his gin neat and who's biggest kitchen appliance is a barista coffee machine with all the knick-knacks – if he drank a latte in the morning.”

He laughs, the hearty sound making me all giddy. “Tell me how you really feel.”, he says, his eyes sparkling at me, while jokingly clasping one hand over his heart.

“Sorry.”, I say, grinning at him.

He waves it off. “Don’t be, I deserved that.” He gets some coffee beans ready, putting them through the grinder and then fitting the portafilter into the barista machine.

While the coffee drips down into the cup, he comes closer standing right in between my knees. “But, how about you, missy? Do you like a latte in the morning?” The little quirk of the corner of his mouth is telling me that this isn’t just some question about my coffee preferences. It’s one of his telltale signs.

“I do, but I feel like I'm missing the joke here.”, I say, looking up at him. Sitting on the counter, he still towers over me, more than a head taller than me.

He chuckles. “Well, ‘Latte’ is also another word for boner in German, so...” He sees the grimace I'm making and laughs some more, and I join in, while shaking my head. He steps away and repeats the process, getting another coffee ready.

"I'm starting to think that your language only has dirty innuendos and curses.", I remark, jokingly.

He grins. "That just might be my vocabulary." He pours some milk into a metal jug and froths it, adding the froth to the mug after the coffee is ready. Wincing at the shitload of milk he put in. "Here, a latte for the lady.", he says, while handing me the mug.

My eyes drop down of their own volition, as I take it from his hands. Openly staring at his crotch, where his sweatpants are clearly tented by his dick. And he comes even closer with the way I'm looking at him.

My gaze pans up again until it lands on his face, his expression stoic, as he’s pulling an eyebrow up, like he’s awaiting what I’ll do. I take a drink, tasting the coffee on my tongue. "Thank you. For the latte." Trying to hide my grin behind the mug. "Sir.", I add, cheekily.

He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in. The look in his eyes burning into me. I still grin up at him, but I feel like I'm in danger. In danger of getting devoured like one of those flaky croissants.

"You wanna say that again with your lips around my dick? Hm?", he asks and my breath halts. Thinking about yesterday again. When I sat on his bed, gagging around his cock.

"Maybe.", I whisper. He just leans down to kiss me and I can taste the bitter coffee on his tongue, as it strokes against mine. Slow and deep.

I put the cup down to the side before my arms reach up, holding onto his shoulders, his hair falling to the front, the tips of it brushing over my skin. I push some of it back, my fingers tangle in the long strands, while I answer his kiss.

He's not breaking away, still caging me in, even though one of his hands moves to my panties. The fingers toying with the hem, easily slipping under the fabric. My legs spread even wider, I squirm into his touch and our kiss gets messier, sloppier. His thumb finds my clit, softly pressing against it, and the light touch makes me needy for more.

"Fuck, please.", I whimper into the kiss, and I can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He breaks away, keeping up the constant brushes against my clit, kissing down to my neck.

My hand tries to reach for his dick, but he catches my wrist. "Just- let me.", he murmurs, pressing his hot mouth against my pulse point. Sucking on it softly. A needy mewl escapes me when his middle finger slips into me. Just one digit, not quite enough to fill me up, even with his big fingers.

Soft teasing touches, enough to get me worked up, but not enough to get me anywhere near finishing. And he knows what he's doing.

König pulls back, his lids hooded, his gaze intently on me, which makes me acutely aware of the expression on my own face, the O shape of my mouth. His finger is still moving inside me, the brushes against the most sensitive spot make me squirm.

I teether on the edge of an orgasm, until he pushes another one inside me, filling me up. His fingers move fast now, against my fluttering walls. Coaxing the release out of me and I come, pulsing around them. Leaving me wet and needy for more touches.

He pulls the panties over my pussy again, the fabric soaking up my juices in an instant. His hand clasps over it, softly massaging over it, until they soaked wet with my own juices.

König simply pushes his sweatpants down, pulling out his cock, letting it rest against my clothed pussy. Then he spits and a dollop of saliva drops onto my panties. The sound alone makes me whimper, while I lean back until my shoulderblades hit the cabinets behind me.

The spit runs down, right over the tip of his dick. He drags it through it, spreading the wetness on his length, soaking my underwear even more. Slow and deliberate, taking his time. The slick just being enough, so he can flit over it.

I groan at the sight, the filthy little move making me even hotter. He pulls up one eyebrow while looking at me, the smirk on his lips infuriatingly cocky. He ruts his hips forward, his hard dick pushing against my pussy lips and clit. The friction due to the fabric in between us, against my sensitive skin, is almost too much to handle, my hands gripping his arms, nails digging into his biceps.

His hands splayed on my thighs and he looks down, my eyes following his until we're both fixed on the spot where he is rubbing himself against me. The little hickeys on the skin next to it. His thumb coasts over the bitemark on my inner thigh, a faint imprint still showing up. He lifts his hand for just a moment, pressing a kiss to his pointer and middle finger and then pressing them onto the mark.

If I wasn't so wound tight from his teasing touches, I think I would've actually awww'ed at the little gesture, him kissing the bite better. Like this, I only sigh, grinding against his dick, searching for more friction.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting against mine. "Fuck, I need to be inside you.", he grunts, his words sending a shiver down my spine. He lifts me from the countertop, my legs wrapping around him.

"What, no magic condoms appearing out of thin air this time?", I tease him, my fingers stroking over his shoulders.

“The magician is out of props for such stunts.”, he grumbles. “And there will still be enough time to fuck you on every surface in the whole house.”

He hurries upstairs to the bedroom where he sets me down on the bed and we both scramble to get off our clothes. I pull my shirt over my head and fall into the soft mattress, watching him shed his. His dick is hanging out his sweatpants, half caught in the waistband, bobbing up and down with his movements before he lets the pants fall down to the floor.

He grabs a condom out of the pack that's lying out on the nightstand, the packaging torn at the front, and puts the rubber on.

My eyes pan up from the dark fluff of his happy trail, the tummy, the upper abs and his huge pecs, dark hair peppered over them. His nipple piercing. The broad shoulders, adorned with black ink that spans down his arms as well. Trying not to look at the parts where cuts and other scars disturbed the otherwise impeccable images inked into the skin.

He looks back at me, from underneath his eyebrows, one of them quirking up, as he climbs onto the mattress, his weight pushing it down.

I yelp and giggle, as he grabs me by the hips, pulls me into him, until the swells of my ass hit his thick thighs. My legs drop to the side on their own, and he takes that as the invitation it is, his hand pulling the wet panties to the side and just slipping into me.

We both groan as he settles deep inside me, the stretch of his thickness making my head drop back and my eyes roll back.

His hand catches my chin, softly digging into it. Making me look up as he sits back on his knees and slowly starts to fuck me.

“See how fucking pretty you are?”

His eyes are on me, on my face, while I look up at the mirror, focused in on the point where we are connected. Seeing how his dick pushes into me, until he's balls deep, his tip pressing up against my cervix.

Sliding out, inch by inch, almost completely pulling out. In again. I feel the stretch as my pussy takes him in. It's a tight fit, but I'm wet and dripping from how he worked me up.

And out. The feeling of emptiness only dissipates, when his hips snap forward, filling me up quickly, and a moan drops from my lips, the shape contorted to an O.

He starts to fuck me harder, his hand coming around my throat, his fingers closing around my neck, gentler than I would have liked. Pulling me into him while he pounds into me. His hand is other still grabbing onto my panties, the fabric aching as he uses it as leverage to move me into his thrusts.

Rip.

The sound of fabric ripping cuts through the otherwise soft erotic soundscape. The drowsiness drops out of his gaze, his eyes widen in shock, as he looks down, stopping his thrusts. "Scheiße, sorry.", he curses.

I laugh a bit while I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's just clothes.", sitting up on my elbows, reaching out for him. Needing him to continue.

He lets go of them, the fabric hanging from my hips, and leans forward, pressing a deep kiss onto my mouth in apology. His hand softly strokes the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Close, so close, his forehead resting against mine, as he rolls his hips against me.

He straightens back up, picking up his thrusts again. His arm spans over my whole body, the muscled limb covering half of me. I feel so small compared to him, the contrast so stark when I'm splayed out like this in front of him.

His hand moves down a bit and his thumb pushes against my lips. I lick it, play with it and then release it with a pop, but just a moment later two of his fingers push into my mouth again.

He sinks in deep, my lips closing around them. Two is almost too much already. I start to lick them, to suck on his fingers, hesitatingly at first, but the little sounds that drop from his lips spur me on.

He moves them in unison with the pushes of his dick into me. The combined touches making me lose my mind fast. It almost was like he was fucking me from the front and back at the same time.

I gag around him, spit coats his digits as I suck them off like I would another part of him. And I guess, he is thinking about that as well, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

The sight mirrored back to me – of his dick pounding into me, while his fingers are fucking my mouth all sloppily, pushing into the wet heat, my lips barely reaching the lettering on his knuckles, is getting me worked up.

From the way he's looking at me, his eyes fixed on my face, while I swallow him up, it's driving him crazy too. Groaning, as I take him deep.

Him, just him, fucking me. And me at his mercy. Full, so full of him. And I can't help but think about what it would be like to have him fill all of my holes. The thought alone sends a tingle of filthy desire down my spine and I hum around him.

"Fuck, look at you, taking me so well.", he drawls. His words, the soft growl in them, wash over me and I can feel the zap of pleasure deep, when he bottoms me out, his dick hitting the right spot again.

I come, my body arching off the sheets, my sighs and screams muffled by the fingers in my mouth, as my eyes roll back.

He doesn't stop, fucking me through it. My pussy squeezes around him, and while I still come down from the orgasm, I can feel his other hand grabbing my hip, holding tight. His fingers still in my mouth, stroking against my tongue. Sinking into my throat, the letters on his knuckles disappearing as he pushes further in, and I gag around them once again.

They leave my mouth, all of a sudden, and I take a deep breath. "Please fuck, I-", he groans. "I want to come in your mouth. May I?" The inflection in his voice is almost pleading.

I nod, the thought alone sending another shiver of arousal through me. “Yes.”, I answer breathlessly, still a little hazy from my orgasm.

He pulls back entirely, his dick slipping out of my pussy. I scramble onto my knees, while he gets up from the bed, standing in front of it.

Getting off the condom quickly, his hand running up and down his length, continuing to chase his release. My spit is still on the two digits that were just inside me, now slowly coating his cock.

I press a soft kiss to the tip that is leaking precum, tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Flicking it over the piercing. My eyes pan up, searching for his, before I take him a little deeper into my mouth. Sucking on his tip while he jerks himself off. Hasty and desperate. A rumbly moan shakes his chest, his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck, gonna cum.", he mutters, the words all breathy.

I hum around his dick, licking and sucking eagerly, when he spills onto my tongue and down my throat. I lick up every single drop, swallowing it all. He shakes and shivers when I don't stop sucking until he's spent.

I release him with pop, when his fingers grip my chin, and open my mouth to show him. "Good fucking girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, as I sit back on my knees. He crouches down a bit, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Like he's waiting for something, but he doesn't say anything.

My cheeks blush red, as I remember what we talked about before. "Thank you, Sir.", I say, looking him straight into his eyes.

His answer is a deep satisfied sound, almost turning into a growl, as he leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Crawling into bed again, pulling me onto his front, until I’m strewn over him like a blanket that isn’t even big enough for the big man. He’s softly stroking my back, the touches comforting and gentle.

I push my cheek into his pecs, the hairs on his chest tickling the soft skin, and I breathe in his scent. The warm calming tone. I feel his upper body rising and sinking with every single breath of his, until we are in unison. The deep calmness almost carries me away, and I feel myself getting sleepy. I mean, we didn’t get a lot of sleep. And getting fucked liked this was tiring, although not tiresome at all.

In the silence around us, a thought of mine cuts through post-fuck haze.

“I don’t wanna go home.”, I whisper against his chest, after looking for the right words to say.

His hand stops for just a second. “Then don't.”, he answers simply, continuing his soft caresses.

I lift my head from his pec, looking at him. “Are you sure? I don't want to disturb your vacation.”, I ask.

“I'm not on vacation, I'm on leave.”, he explains. “And you're not disturbing anything.” A little reassuring smile is appearing on his lips.

“I didn’t bring much though. Not even like any more clothes.”, I say hesitatingly.

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to put you in my stuff to keep you here?”, he asks, the smile widening a bit.

I laugh. “I fear, I won't fit into any of that. I mean, I think I could build a tent to sleep in from the shirts you wear.”

“That's fair.”, he grins at me, pushing my hair out of my face. And then he kisses me again, sweet and slow, until I sigh against his lips.

“You have to stop kissing me like that.”, I say, teasingly.

His smirk drops from his face. “Why?”, he asks.

“Because it makes me want to sit on your dick again.”, I jokingly confess.

He starts laughing, his whole body shaking. “That can be arranged.”, he grins at me.

“But – we can’t stay in bed the whole weekend.”, I retort.

“We can’t?”, he pipes up, his question somewhere between a pouty joke and sincere query.

I think about it for a second. “Mmh, I don’t know. Might tire you out, old man.”, I tease him, sticking my tongue out at him.

His eyes light up, all of a sudden, I get flipped, the whole world is spinning around me. He is on top of me, his weight presses me down into the mattress. His thighs spread my legs for him, his dick lying over my tummy, already hard again.

He grabs another condom. “If you keep this up, we’re gonna go through the whole packet.”, he jokes, one side of his mouth topping up in a smirk.

“Is that a challenge?”, I ask, caressing down his chest, inching in on his dick, while he is still fiddling with the rubber.

He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, stretching me out on the mattress, while I grin up at him, splayed out like that.

“If you want it to be…”, he whispers against my face, his lips kissing down to my neck while he pushes inside me.

The mug on the kitchen counter is still half full, the coffee now cold. I take a sip, relishing the milky liquid running down my throat. Sitting here at the kitchen island in just his shirt. The Dark Tranquility one he wore when we first met.

“What are you doing?”, he asks me, utterly confused, as he sees me. He put on his sweatpants again and they are as delicious as they were before. Especially in combination with his naked chest.

“Finishing my coffee.”, I explain, taking another long sip.

“But that’s… cold.”, he says, the disgust palpable.

“Yeah, I like it like that. I drink them lukewarm. At best.”, I explain, with full confidence.

“Woman, you drive me crazy.”, he sighs, then laughs, making himself another coffee. Fresh, hot and black. “One of these days, we’re gonna manage to drink the drinks at the temperature they’re so supposed to be enjoyed at.” The loud noise of the coffee maker cuts through my laughter.

“We can certainly try.”, I say, taking another sip from my blasphemous coffee.

“So, about your stuff.”, he starts, as he leans against the kitchen island. The mug in his hand is looking ridiculously small compared to him. Just like me.

“Yeah, my panties are kinda ruined now, too.” I say and shoot him a pointed look.

“I don’t have any panties that will fit you.”, he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“No shit sherlock.”, I remark sarcastically, lifting the shirt that is hanging from my shoulders. That’s almost reaching to my knees. You could fit three of me in there.

“We can go to your apartment, you can look after Mimi and get some clothes, and then come back here. It’s no big deal.”, he suggests.

I sigh. “You sure?”

He nods, just waiting for my answer patiently. While I contemplate if it was okay to stay here for longer.

“Okay, quickly, just to get some stuff.”, I agree.

When we go to leave, I notice that my shoes are neatly lined up, not at all how I left them, when I stormed into the house yesterday evening. Standing just right beside an old pair of his combat boots.

next part: painting his nails or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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yaesnovels · 1 year

Text

. THE KAVEH WAY !

synopsis: after being married for quite some time, you and alhaitham decide to expand your family and try for a baby – unfortunately, things don’t work out as you imagine for a bit. after a short chat with kaveh, alhaitham decides to try switching up things a little and try the kaveh way while trying to get you pregnant – letting loose completely and making you feel absolutely loved and cherished.

cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used but only in the beginning; mentions of pregnancy, trying for a baby, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), pet names (god there’s so many; baby, babe, sweetheart, good girl, my queen, honey, princess), slight degradation (he calls you his pretty slut once or twice lol), aftercare

minors, please do not interact. i‘m okay with likes because i don‘t go through those but do not interact with my blog via reblogs or comments.

wc; 2.6k

alhaitham was rolling his eyes when he heard kaveh’s laugh, the blond architect acting to be wiping tears off his cheeks. “so, you’re actually telling me that you were completely relying on logic with this whole thing?”

“yeah, so? what’s so wrong about it?”, alhaitham argued back, it simply just made so much more sense for him to get real with facts and logic about your mutual decision to try for a baby, after being married for quite some time and being absolutely ready and sure about it. “it doesn’t really make sense to try when she isn’t even able to get pregnant, so what’s the problem here?”

“alhaitham, you’re such an idiot, oh god”, kaveh laughed. “so, you guys have only been having regular fucks whenever she was ovulating and didn’t even pay attention on how you were feeling at all? of course things wouldn’t work out like that!”

that made the scribe think – no, neither of you had really considered that your emotions and the intimacy throughout the process of trying. the more kaveh spoke on what to pay attention to, alhaitham was absolutely sure on what to do – well, luckily, you were ovulating anyway. he couldn’t totally let go of relying on logic with this.

he might as well make things up to you for not paying attention to you as much as he should have as your husband. and he might as well try the kaveh way of things to get your mutual dream come true.

–

the moment you were back home, alhaitham pulled you inside the house, close to himself and lifting up your chin as he kissed you. he kissed you, oh, so softly, he hadn’t been this gentle with you in such a long time.

you knew that he had been absolutely busy with the akademiya falling apart so he was insanely stressed out with the sudden workload. so, the whole baby making thing you were both excited about had been a complete disappointment so far – he probably didn’t even realize how much the stress affected his mood and you didn’t really want to talk to him about it either.

he was going to realize it sooner or later and it appeared that just now, he did realize it. “i’m so sorry for neglecting you recently”, he mumbled, burying his face against your neck. “i’ve been a terrible husband, haven’t i?”

“well, i wouldn’t say terrible because either way, i love you, but yeah, the last couple of weeks were somewhat lonely for me”, you replied, voice soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying your best not to sound too sad about the whole situation.

“i love you”, alhaitham said, planting yet another kiss on your lips before he pulled you inside to the kitchen where you were met with an already prepared, candlelit dinner that had you look at him with so much love in your eyes.

“this all looks so great, thank you, my love”, you smiled, sitting down, as you immediately dived in, groaning at how good it all tasted. “this is amazing.”

“of course, love. you deserve all the best.”

–

after dinner, he pulled out some wine as he put on some of the sensual music he got from kaveh (which he only accepted reluctantly, after deciding it was time to pamper you since he didn’t get to do that for so long now).

“going all out tonight, aren’t you?”, you teased, “well, it wouldn’t be fair if i were to let you do everything right?”

you finally returned from the bedroom you had buried yourself in after dinner, wearing one of the sets of dark red lingerie your friends had jokingly gifted you for your wedding. alhaitham gulped at the sight, you were looking so gorgeous in that soft silk, it was so hard for him not to pull you on his lap and rip that fabric off.

you grabbed the glass of wine alhaitham had already poured as you sat on the couch next to him, drinking a sip to calm your nerves – it had been so long since alhaitham truly paid attention to you, which you didn’t blame him for. it just simply affected how easily shy you got around him; something you had gotten over with after a while of being with him.

“you’re so beautiful, baby”, he mumbled, “i missed you so much the last couple of weeks. everything was just so stressful, i’m sorry for not paying attention to you more.”

“it’s alright”, you replied, placing the glass on the table, pulling him on top of you, giggling as you noticed how taken aback he was about that. you had your legs wrapped around his hips, laying down on the couch before you kissed him. you only realized in that moment how much you had missed your gentle and doting husband.

though, the only thing you did not realize was that this piece of lingerie that didn’t really cover anything of your skin and beautiful body was letting out the pussydrunk beast he tried so hard to push away from coming out.

he deepened the kiss, one hand softly lingering over your legs, as the other one was pulling down the fabric to reveal your nipples which he just started to play around with, pinching, sucking, biting on them, having you writhe around. the more he went down on you, he noticed the beautiful scent coming from your body, he assumed a perfume that had an undertone of some sort of aphrodisiac because it made him go so feral out of nowhere, pulling off the panties covered by the short dress.

“you’re so gorgeous, baby”, he mumbled against your thighs, and leaving a soft kiss on your clit. “i can’t wait to pamper you like you deserve, my queen.”

alhaitham didn’t care how messy he was when he was fucking you with his tongue, thumb circling your clit and he was holding your thighs apart with his tight grip, already so pussydrunk with your taste and he was unsure if he would be able to stop.

“feels good, honey? i can tell by your cute noises, baby, oh you sound so good. it’s been so long since i last got to taste you, hasn’t it? i missed the way you taste and the way you pull my hair when you get so needy, baby”, he talked you through your first orgasm of the night, you were shaking and your eyes had gotten all teary.

“alhaitham”, you whimpered out his name, body relaxing as you calmed down. “please.”

“please, what, lovely?”, he questioned, teasing you with a soft giggle. “just kidding, honey. let’s move to our bedroom, shall we?”

he had you thrown over his shoulder, having you laugh as he tickled you and then put you down on the bed, before he laid down on top of you, caressing your cheek. “i keep on repeating this but archons, i’m so in love with you, baby”, he whispered, “i can’t imagine spending my life without you anymore.”

“i love you, too”, you replied, kissing him so passionately when you were turning you both around, sitting down on your husband’s lap as you pulled the silk over your body, all naked on top of him and you couldn’t help the heat rushing up your cheeks as you realized that alhaitham was still in his clothes.

“not fair”, you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, before he sat up to pull the fabric off his body. you leaned down to press soft kisses over his skin, down to his abs, still so mesmerized by how toned his body was despite being a researcher and mostly sitting in his office doing paperwork.

“you know what’s not fair, love? the fact that you try to pamper me when tonight was supposed to be all about you. and since i know you love me being rough”, he interrupted himself as he pushed you back down on the bed, keeping your wrists pinned against the soft mattress, “i will just use you until i fuck a baby into you.”

you rolled your eyes back as he spoke, the thought of you finally getting pregnant after trying for so long had you whine in need; you just wanted him to fill you up over and over until you couldn’t take anything anymore.

alhaitham pulled his pants down and threw them off the bed, grabbing your hips to lift you up and thrust deep inside of you, having you cry out as you pulled him closer to you. “please, fuck me”, you whimpered, the needy gaze you had in your eyes were simply making him go feral on you, rough and hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin had you so weak in the knees.

“archons, you feel so good around me, honey”, he groaned, keeping up his relentless pace as you buried your nails into his back. “go on, babe, leave your marks on my back. go crazy, i don’t mind. i love the sweet pain you make me feel. beg for me to make you come and cream on my cock. beg for me to come deep inside you, to get you pregnant with my baby. you want that so bad don’t you, baby? you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

“please, i need it so bad. wanna make you- make you a daddy”, you babbled, your brain no longer properly functioning as the attention he gave you and your pleasure was making you feel dizzy, tears rolling down your eyes.

“oh, honey, you will. don’t worry, you definitely will. even if it doesn’t work out this time, i promise you, i won’t give it a break until we make our dream come true”, he calmed you down, slowing down with his thrusts to give you his full attention again. “shh, baby, don’t cry, love.” his voice was so soft and he stopped his movements for a moment, pulling out as he realized you were actually crying and those weren’t tears coming solely from pleasure.

“need me to stop?”, he asked then, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. you shook your head no. “shh, what happened, love?”

“the thought… of not being able to get pregnant and giving you what you want”, you mumbled, “you wouldn’t leave me if i weren’t able to get–”

“hey, hey, no. stop right there, love. there is nothing in this world that could make me love you less, especially just because this didn’t work out. i would never leave you for something as simple as this. i love you too much to do something like that. i’d rather get old with you alone instead of leaving you because i couldn’t get you pregnant.”

he left soft kisses on your face, making you giggle while your sobs stopped and you calmed down again. “archons, that must’ve ruined the mood now”, you mumbled.

“what are you talking about, babe?”, he smirked, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “i recall promising you to pamper you like you deserve, didn’t i? and believe me, i intend to keep that promise.”

–

he was manhandling you like it was no struggle for him at all – lifting your legs to get you into a mating press, your hips up as you were laying on you stomach as he fucked you from behind. alhaitham was not hesitant to let you know who‘s in control in this situation, having you at his complete mercy as he made you gush around him over and over again.

“oh, you feel so good, princess. take it like the good girl you are, sweetheart”, he moaned, “mhm, good job, honey. you‘re doing so amazing for me, taking your husband‘s cock like the good and pretty little slut you are. you’re my good little slut, aren‘t you, baby?” he chuckled as you nodded in agreement, brain totally empty from all sort of thoughts.

“good girl”, he groaned, intertwining your hands as he leaned down to kiss you on your soft, yet somewhat swollen lips from all the kissing sessions you had in your breaks. “oh, archons, i’m so obsessed with kissing you, honey.”

you were pretty much unable to reply at this point – brain totally clouded from how good and exhausted you were feeling.

“look at how much you’re coming for me, honey. look how much of a mess we made here”, he mumbled against your neck, watching how his cum leak out your cunt, before he scooped up some of it with his fingers and pushed them inside of you. you had lost all track of time and you were sure it had been a couple of hours since he had started ravaging you.

“sensitive”, you whimpered out, brain unable to process anything else. it had been a bit since all power had left your body and you were just laying there, taking it like his good girl he loved to praise you as.

“oh, love, did you think i was done? that’s cute”, alhaitham giggled before he thrusted his cock back inside, “i’m not going to stop.”

your eyes widened, the overstimulation had you look at him somewhat in fear of what to expect. you couldn’t remember the last time he had made you shake so intensely, make you come over and over until you were nothing but his good girl, his good little slut, clenching around him so tightly as he had you at his mercy.

“what is it, sweetheart? am i scaring you, baby? good. you’re all mine. you deserve such a good fuck for being such a good girl for me, lovely.” he let our a groan as he - once again - buried his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls white. “come for me, baby, just take it all and come for me.”

the moment you gushed around his cock, crying out his name and sobbing in pleasure, he just watched you unfold, losing all control of yourself as you submitted to the way he made you feel so good.

“you took my cock so good, honey. i’m so proud of you”, he mumbled, pulling out. “and if you this time did not work out, we‘ll try again. it‘s alright, sweetheart. it will happen eventually.”

he placed a hand on your tummy, thumb softly caressing the naked skin. “one day it will work out.”

–

“relax, sweetheart. i know this was a lot to take in, i don‘t really know what came over me tonight”, alhaitham calmed you down as he hugged you tight from behind as you both sank into the bath. “feel good honey?”

you nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed against him, your tense muscles turning into mush as he simply made you feel so giggly and happy. “i have a good feeling about tonight, y‘know? i feel like this time it will have worked out”, you said.

“we‘ll see, honey. and even if not, it‘s perfectly fine”, he whispered, making you shiver at how deep his voice was. it was a reminder of all the promises he made; how they were always kept and came true eventually. and you knew that this one, no matter how long it’ll take, wouldn’t be broken either.

a/n: inspired by jake and amy from b99 trying to get pregnant. i have no idea what came over me with this one. it just happened.

#. flowers for : alhaitham !#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham smut #genshin fanfiction #alhaitham fanfiction #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you

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nectardaddy · 2 months

Text

mirage | suna rintarou

four | scandalous ★

masterlist

ignore timestamps

cw/notes: some sexual humor, terrible description of getting a tattoo, messy messy messy, my iwa simps are eating good today

There was a hum in the air, a sharp twang ringing as it muddled with music. The low drone coming from a speaker beside her; subconsciously mouthing the words to it as her eyes tracked the man's arm. Gaze narrowing before taking a paper towel and wiping down, earning a small groan in return. Tattooing the "sweet spot" of his inner arm, just above the elbow - the only blank area left on his right arm. It hurt like a bitch.

"You weren't kidding last night about being heavy handed." Commenting with a groan as she pressed the tattoo needle to his arm once more, flexing his hand into a fist with a sharp inhale. "I think you're trying to kill me."

"Oh, grow up," she laughed. As she turned to dip the needle in the ink container, she cast her gaze over to him, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before turning away. Don't look at me like that, good god. He was handsome, that she couldn't deny even if she wanted to. Black ink winding down both arms and stopping just before his hands, a cut off that was stark but blended well. "You're the one who came in regardless, I did warn you."

Iwaizumi wasn't a stranger to the ramblings of the woman, often finding himself enjoying them the many times he came in. But this one was different, an aura of dejection around her today, that juxtaposed her usual irritability as he listened to her speak. Asking him rhetorical questions to gauge his attentiveness; ones he was always ready to answer. Maybe it was merely a distraction from the discomfort he felt on his arm, that slowly merged to a numbing feeling as time passed, maybe it was something else.

"I listened to the song you suggested last time by the way. Best interest." Telling him in an effort to shift the conversation to a lighter subject, tired of speaking about her relationship woes. Though the tone shift of the conversation was palpable, a bit hesitant, and heavy.

"Yeah? Did you like it?"

"I did." She paused a moment from her actions, formally shading part of his arm, now glancing to look up at him with a small smile. "Pretty scandalous though. There something you're trying to tell me, Iwa?" She asked half joking, laughing off her own question before flicking her eyes back down to continue shading.

"And if there is?"

Another pause as his question caught her off guard, a small 'huh' leaving her lips as her eyes snapped up to him again. Oh fuck he's dead serious. His earnestness made her hesitate and she pulled away the tattoo gun completely, instinctively knowing she didn't want to mess up. Locking eyes with him once more as she opened her mouth to say something, then promptly shutting it as no words came.

"I'm sorry, that was really forward," the man found himself quickly backtracking the conversation but the question was already out in the ether. He saw it. Swirling in her eyes - contemplating it.

"No, don't apologize." Giving him a nervous smile in response. "I actually wouldn't be opposed."

I kind of hate this but we ball. first time doing something so messy so bear with me ugh

once again thank you @eggyrocks for your very correct thoughts on iwa's music taste, your playlist was the reason I attached this song to this moment

iwa knows every possible detail about the situation and still asked her. it's more of he thinks she's pretty and she needs a distraction than he wants to ruin this for suna

they are only getting a drink guys I swear, I know this is a suna fic

yachi pulled yn in the back room as soon as he left and whisper yelled that she heard everything and was fully freaking out

yn downplayed it hard

taglist under cut

@mollyrolls @causenessus @froyaoya @seroh @eggyrocks

@nbcvs @rory-cakes @localgaytrainwreck @kodzu-ken @hermaeusmorax

@sunafc @lvtilzs @kr1nqu @hyenagoated @gsyche

@le000xxgrd @iheartpinky @strxwberri-s @wolffmaiden @yogurtkags

@superboywife @cherrypieyourface @soulfullystarry @bedeater @a-little-pebbl

@miliondollagirl @toges-cough-syrup

#haiykuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! smau #hq x reader #hq smau #suna rintarou #rintarou suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna smau #series: mirage

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anantaru · 1 year

Text

cw. [ex]plicit, fem! reader, alcohol mentions, toxic lol, modern au & college au, frat boy xiao

a/n. this came to me in a dream lmao

frat boy xiao, and no one else, he was the one who made your legs almost give up on you the moment his hypnotic eyes meet yours while when he averts himself from your direction again, there was a terrible, existential emptiness riveting in your soul, a ceaseless and unending openness.

until now you felt that way, but you are living in reality and this wasn't your conventional, exaggerated rom con experience from an atrocious netflix movie, still, for all that wishful fantasizing inside of you, the desire of meeting your pristine soulmate at a random, huge college frat party fenced by loud, ear-splitting music, the hustle and bustle of binge drinking and beer pong, strangers escaping to the bathroom to hook up with each other, was still somewhat comforting.

frat boy xiao who only calls you when he's bored, only fucks you when he feels like it, it's not like he was a soulless person, in his own ways he was caring about you but he also made it clear that he wasn't searching for anything more serious, he wanted to stay within the lane of occasionally hooking up with you— but when he does, when you let him touch you, it's the best feeling in the world, resembling a moment when you stand ankle-deep on the beach at night, you hear it, that is, you hear the world breathing or how the sound carries across the water.

frat boy xiao who keeps you a secret in front of his friends, he fears that they might make a move on you if he doesn't. you're his to play with— although he wouldn't say it with his chest, he rather shows you instead. you sigh and swallow when he first sinks into you, eyes darkened with lust when he pushes into your body. xiao grunts appreciatively, lazily draping your shirt up so it'll rest above your now exposed breasts, revealing your full, soft chest and his face smooths under the shadow of a single light flickering up the room.

you take a quick breath when he begins to move and pump his leaking cock in a leisure manner, not fastening any steps, xiao would always start slowly, making you accustomed to his large girth as if it was your first time to have sex with him. you stammer loudly, lacing your arms around his neck tight, "you're so good at this, xiao.." and purposefully make him flustered, cheeks glistening red, the slight embarrassment emerging was pinking his neck— the sort of pink that brings champagne roses to the imagination.

frat boy xiao who gazes at you bemusedly, seizing himself off you before swiftly flipping you on your stomach, not letting you take a breather, his hands sinking into the plush of your behind as he lines himself against your hole again. there was something so alluring to seeing your face pressed against his pillow, while knowing it will remember your scent and even when you leave afterwards, it'll still feel like you're next to him.

you cry out, rocking your hips back, your hands webbing into the bed sheets as xiao slopes his entire body against your figure— one hand placed on the bed frame so he wouldn't crush you with his weight while the other twisted and turned on your skin, fuck how much he loved fondling your body, and the grab on your hips was perfect to easily lurch you into his cock.

you can clearly witness his impatience growing by now, sensing how your hole splits and it burns a little, but it's tasteful enough and you try your unconditional best to keep your burning thighs apart for him, gasping with your head in the clouds, eyes fluttering shut as you bury your face back into the tear soaked pillow, your pulse soaring within his pounding beat on your slippy cunt.

frat boy xiao cannot get enough of you, but he also cannot commit to you, for a reason rather unknown— while you also refrain from asking him as to why, fearing that he might feel like being pushed into a corner, cowering of losing those certain moments that do bring you joy, it's the flustering perception he made you experience too, the hallmark of one who is true of heart, a genuine sweetness you were forever craving.

#xiao smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #xiao x reader

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lizardboiii · 6 months

Text

ANGER MANAGEMENT┃R. Sukuna

[Possessive!Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

・❥・

│Summary: Anger management was by no means your strong suit. No amount of lessons or prayers could change that. In fact, it feels like you’ve been doing a lot worse lately with the appearance of a new neighbor in your next door apartment.

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

・❥・

│cw: 18+, NSFW, violence, vulgar language, terrible humor

│w/c: 3.2k

│chapters: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) (vi) (vii)

│notes: NeighborsAU!, AncestorsAU!

・❥・

│Chapter I : IRATE

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

The pinkette moved to slam his front door shut before you caught the painted wood with your hand. Its pristine white coating had already started to chip away on the side where, like many other nights, you’ve managed to catch the door and pry it open.

You snarled at his annoyed expression, “I’m not finished yet, Pinkiepie lookin’ freak.”

The vein in his jaw pulsated as he looked down on your smaller figure in disgust, “Piss off, rat. I didn’t steal your fucking package.”

Your grip on his door tightened. The familiar feeling of hot burning rage once again coursed through your bones, “IT’S ONLY ME AND YOU ON THIS FLOOR, DUMBASS!”

He let out his own frustrated growl as he swung his door back open, almost knocking you off balance, “I DIDN'T STEAL SHIT FROM YOU, WOMAN!”

The world felt like it slowed down for a moment. The feeling of your bottled rage finally reaching its limit. From the tips of your toes to the top of your forehead, you could feel the urge to punch, kick, and scream. A calling to let loose all your feelings you held inside.

Now normally this is where you’d remember your anger management lessons. Countdown from ten to zero, take deep breaths, and blah blah blah.

But no. Ever since your fuckhead neighbor moved in next door your rage has been through the roof. From his overly obnoxious music taste, to his various romantic partners, you couldn’t catch a break. So, what if you let loose a bit?

Your fist swung before you could even think about the consequences of your actions. Sure, you’ve gotten into plenty of arguments with your new neighbor. But never once have you raised a hand.

The satisfying thump of a head recoiling against an open door made your heart race. The feeling to continue on, to fight, to destroy was overwhelming. Alas, no feeling could ever beat seeing the stunned face of a man who just took a punch to the face.

Swiping the blood from his nose, he glared at you with new vigor, “What the fuck?”

Another swing, this time your hand was swiftly captured in a brawny fist. You clenched your teeth in pain as he squeezed your smaller hand excruciatingly tight, his other hand capturing your shirt's collar.

You struggled against his holds, brow twitching in agitation, “Where the fuck is it?”

The scent of mint flooded your senses as he pulled your collar closer to his face, “I don’t have your goddamn package. Now give me one reason why I shouldn’t paint the floor with you right now?”

You tore your hand away from his weakening hold and flipped him off, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Brother?”

Surprised, you both turned to another, much smaller, pinkette. An almost identical copy of the asshole still clutching your shirt. Though, this one was a lot easier to get along with.

The larger man sighed deeply above you before letting you go, “Yuuji, why are you here so late?”

You grunted as he harshly shoved you back. Shooting your arm out, you caught yourself on the doors frame. Cocky fucker. Grinding your teeth together, you decided to spare your shit neighbor because of one reason only.

“Hey, Yuuji. How’s university?”

You could feel a dark stare on the side of your head, relentless and unwavering. Yuuji smiled brightly at you as he came closer to the door.

“Great! Professor Gojo totally let us slack off all day today!”

You threw a smug smirk at the man still glaring daggers at your head. How’s it feel to be ignored?

As if hearing your question his grip tightened on his crossed arms.

“Megumi, Nobara, and I went out for ice cream after class too. I didn’t think it’d take this long though,” Yuuji scratched the back of his head embarrassed.

You smiled at his shy form only to stop yourself when you noticed the man standing next to you smiling as well. Bastard. What the hell is he enjoying life for?

“I see. Alright, come on I made dinner,” his eyes trailed from Yuuji to you, “for two.”

You rolled your eyes at his hostility. Like you’d want to eat his food anyway. Knowing him it probably tastes like shit.

Not sparing a second glance at him, you waved goodbye to Yuuji and strolled back to your humble abode. A satisfying conclusion until you realized you never got your damned package.

・❥・

“I told you already, Mom. I’ve been getting better. I think my lessons are finally starting to work.”

“Are you sure, sweetie? You know if it ever gets too much again you can always come back home.”

You sighed heavily at your mother’s worried tone, “I’m very sure, mom. I mean come on, I just have one more day until my one month without an outburst!”

Your mother laughed slightly on the phone, but the thick layer of concern was still evident. Quickly dismissing any more of her anxiety, you wished her goodnight.

Shoving your cracked phone into your pocket, you hit the fourth floor button on your apartment complex’s elevator. With a quiet hum, the metal box slowly took you up to your floor.

The fourth floor was nice to live on. It was practically a penthouse. The reason being because you were its only occupant. Although, there was no sound reason for the building's vacancy, you just assumed no one in the area wanted to live in a second rate apartment. Especially when power outages were frequent.

That didn’t really concern you though. You had a home with zero people around. Not something you’d complain about.

Stepping into the outdated hallway, you took a deep breath of the stale air. Cracking a knuckle here, popping a joint there, you made your way to your lone room near the end of the hallway.

Automatically, your brows furrowed at the sight of large boxes decorating the floor around your door and the one next to it. You didn’t order anything.

Not so calmly making your way over to the mysterious boxes, you frowned as you realized the next door apartment’s door ajar. Neighbors?

A twinge of annoyance shot through your body before you quickly extinguished it. You thought back to the group lesson of today. The main focus was on allowing yourself to hear people out. Understand another person’s reasoning before you flip your shit. Having a ‘civilized’ conversation.

While someone moving in isn’t really what the lesson had been meant for, you figured you’d might as well give it a shot. Another step forward if you will.

Preparing yourself, you maneuvered around the scattered boxes in front of your new neighbor’s door. With a determined fist you knocked on the familiar white wood that matched your own.

Movement could be heard coming from behind the door, yet there was no answer. Your jaw twitched as you knocked again causing whoever was moving to curse.

Just as you were about to knock again, the door violently flung open revealing a disheveled man. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have to pick your jaw up off the floor.

The tall man loomed over your form threateningly. It was clear as day that you only reached the tops of his collar bones. An observation you confirmed after noticing the man’s lack of a shirt.

Speaking of which, you had to pick your jaw up again at the sight of a chiseled body. Saying he had the body of a god was no understatement. You could grate cheese on those abs. Even more striking were the strange black tattoos that marked his skin. You traced the thick black lines that covered his chest with your eyes. They only aided in the dark and mysterious vibe to him.

Begrudgingly moving your eyes up to his face allowed for a third drop of the jaw. Similar tattoos to his chest and arms only accentuated the sharp cut of his jaw. His eyes were a piercing deep red which matched perfectly with his surprisingly pink dusted hair. Did a Greek god just move upstairs next to you?

“Are you done checking me out yet?”

You felt your face burn as you glared at him, “I wasn’t ‘checking’ you out.”

A dangerous smirk pulled on his lips, “Listen, woman. I don’t have all day to play around with you. Get to the point.”

You felt a familiar rage spark in the pit of your stomach. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you threw him an exaggerated smile.

“I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself to my new neighbor,” you lifted your hand out in front of you for a handshake, “I’m (y/n) (l/n), I hope we can get along.”

The man scoffed at you in amusement before taking your hand in his roughly, “Sukuna.”

The handshake was quick but firm enough for you to rub your hand after in soreness. The familiar twang of anger once again rose before you quelled it.

You clenched your fists, eager to just go back into your apartment, “I was wondering if there was anything I can help you with? With you being the new and only neighbor and all.”

You begged him in your head to say no. You weren’t sure if you could continue this ‘civil’ conversation for much longer.

“Sure,” you swallowed hard as he leaned against the door frame, “Do you know anyone decent enough to fuck around here or are there only women around here that look like you?”

You felt a cord snap, “What the fuck did you just say?”

A flash behind his eyes showed the clear amusement he was getting from your new attitude, “I said, is there anyone half decent enough to fuck around here or are there only noisy little pigs in this building?”

You growled at his arrogance, “You’re one to talk, pretty boy. Do you normally piss off everyone you talk to?”

His smirk deepened, “Of course. Did you think you were special?”

Like a leaf in the wind your thirty day chip flew away from you. Bye bye progress. Back to the start you go~

White hot rage filled your senses as you poked a finger into his exposed chest, “YOU WANNA GO, ASSHOLE? THE FUCKS YOUR PROBLEM?”

Amusement slowly formed into irritation as he slapped your hand away, “You're even loud like a pig.”

You snarled at him, “Listen here you piece of shit, at least I don’t look like I crawled out of a fucking kids cartoon with that stupid ass hair color.”

Pissed, Sukuna stood to his full height and crossed his arms, “Watch your mouth, dwarf.”

You craned your neck up and shot daggers at him, “Watch your own mouth, motherfucker! God to think I was trying to be a helpful neighbor and see if you needed anything!”

“Helpful neighbor my ass. All you’ve done so far is yell at me in my own home.”

“We’re in the hallway, dumbass!”

Sukuna backed up and rubbed his brow, “I don’t have time to deal with a little kid's temper tantrum.”

As he slammed the door in your face, you caught the closing door by the edge, “I’m not a goddamn kid!”

Sukuna shoved the door closed harder “Then don’t act like one, bitch.”

Eventually his strength overpowered your grip and he flung the door shut. The sound echoed tauntingly throughout the hallway leaving you with your own thoughts.

You looked at your hands disappointed and sighed. Looks like you’ll need to wait another month, but with that asshole next door you weren’t sure if you could make a day anymore.

Greek god your ass, more like a curse.

・❥・

It’s been a month since your dear neighbor Sukuna moved in, and without fail you two have argued in that hallway everyday. Today was no different, though maybe you took it too far by punching him.

You groaned and rolled around on your bed. You felt bad but no way in hell were you apologizing. Burying your head in a pillow you screamed into it. Why was that prick such an asshole??

Sitting up in your bed you hit your pillow repeatedly against your worn mattress. All this stress and worry was making you antsy. After jumping the poor pillow, you threw it against your wall harshly. The pillow hit the plaster with a soft thump before making its way to the floor. You growled in annoyance at the wall your pillow hit.

That very wall was connected to what you assumed was Sukuna’s room. With the amount of noise that came from it every night it had to be.

Though the first few nights he moved in it was quiet, after a week the noise of various rock bands leaking into your room made you bang on the wall in anger. Though you figured this only fueled the desire to infuriate you as he turned it up even louder.

Another contender for why you figured his room was next to yours was the fact you had to sit through multiple nights of him railing the shit out of some poor girls. The first night it happened you remembered blindly walking over to his door and slamming your fists against the wood.

・❥・

“Rick, I'm in love with you!”

“My dear Isabella, I can not reciprocate. For I have already fallen in love!”

“With whom, my love??? That skank Isabell!?”

“No, it is… Steffanie.”

“YOUR HAMSTER?!”

You snorted at your daytime tv while shoveling popcorn into your mouth. Your friend had been right about this channel. It really was absolute nonsense.

You watched as the woman on the screen fainted into her former lover's arms. Wow. Imagine being left for a hamster. Shifting in your seat you paused when you heard a faint noise.

Turning down your television volume you waited. Nothing. Huh, maybe you needed to get your ears checked-

“Ngh~”

The popcorn situated in your mouth fell onto your bed silently. What the fuck?

“Harder!”

Now that's where you couldn’t pretend anymore. Was your new neighbor fucking someone right now? At 10am? On a Sunday??

Your question was quickly answered by louder and whinier moans. Listening closely, you could just barely register the deep grunts of a certain bastard neighbor.

Oh hell no. You were not about to sit here and listen to some fuck fest. Abandoning your comfy bed, you stormed out of your room and over to a familiar door.

Seething with rage, you pounded against the door harshly. The wood shook and rattled at the strength used against it. You growled at the silence behind the door and knocked louder.

“OPEN UP, FUCKHEAD!”

The door finally ripped open revealing an aggravated Sukuna, “What the fuck do you want?”

Your eyes widened as you took a moment to take in his appearance. Pink hair laid messily against his forehead, an unusual look compared to his normal gelled up style. Though most concerningly, he wore no clothes other than a thin white sheet lifted up to cover his manhood.

Trying to conceal your blush, you fumed at him, “Keep it the hell down! I can hear the goddam thrusting.”

Sukuna’s face twisted into a grin, “Jealous your dried up ass gets no action?”

You slammed your fist against the hallways wall, “At this rate I don’t need any action when I feels like I’m in a fucking threesome.”

You shivered at the deep chuckle he let out. You watched as his eyes trailed your form, feeling exposed to his watchful stare. The action made you regret not throwing anything over your tank top and shorts.

“Threesome?” He licked his lips when he returned his gaze to your eyes, “I can arrange that if you're begging for it.”

A shift of the sheet caught your attention. Sukuna lowered the thin fabric allowing for more skin to show. You felt your face burn. So the carpet does match the drapes.

You flinched at his mocking chuckle, “Though I’m kinda busy right now, mind coming back later?”

You let out a frustrated yell and thundered off, “J-JUST KEEP IT DOWN!”

Laughter followed you as you slammed your door shut and slid down the cool wood. Fuck.

・❥・

Shaking yourself out of the embarrassing memory you glared at the wall spitefully. Boiling in rage you threw your remote against the drywall. Piece of shit.

A harsh knock back from the other side made you clench your fists. So now he wants to complain? You went to put your hand through the drywall and yank a kicking and screaming Sukuna through before you heard a grunt.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You swear to god if you have to sit through another bang session you would really get violent. Pausing for a moment, you waited to hear the usual high pitched sounds that came from his pick of the night. Nada. Slowly you crawled across your bed and pressed an ear against the wall.

Now, don’t get yourself wrong. You were not a creep in any way shape or form. Plus, this didn’t even count if it’s your wall right? You were just trying to figure out what he was doing. As a nice neighbor would.

A hushed groan made you flinch away from the wall before returning. Resting a hand against the wall, you felt your heartbeat pick up as your ears adjusted to the quiet noises. Was he-

A strained sigh confirmed your thoughts. You bit your lip as you leaned into the wall further. His sounds almost encouraged you to listen on. Against your will, the familiar feeling of heat between your legs rose. You clenched your thighs together, trying to get a hold of yourself.

You should stop. You should get up and leave the room. Even if you hate the bastard you're still invading his privacy. So why are you staying?

A drawn out hiss pulled you back in. Like an incubus he drew you to him. Your hand slowly started tracing down your abdomen. Have you always felt this way? There’s always been tension but you’d always figured it was just to piss you off.

You shuddered as your hand crept its way under your waist band. You hesitated for a moment. Was this morally right? A rough curse from the thin wall wound you up again. Fuck, how could someone’s voice do this to you?

Shyly, you pressed a curious finger against your wet slit, dragging up against your heat to your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath as you started to rub timid circles against your bud.

Sukuna’s deep groans slowly became more aggressive, sending another throb to your lower half. You bit your wrist in an attempt to contain the needy moans that managed to escape. Quickly, your movements became more and more erratic as you chased your high.

Eventually, Sukuna’s moans died out without you realizing. You were too focused on the pleasure you were indulging yourself in. You bit your wrist harder, drawing blood, as your hips grinded themselves onto your fingers. The thickness of your wrist barely contained your ragged breathing as you finally reached your peak.

Mouth agape, the cord in your stomach snapped as stars flashed in your eyes. Your fingers moved by themselves, helping you extend your high for even longer.

With a final gasp you leaned against the wall and pulled your hand out of your bottoms. The clear substance that coated them looked back at you with mockery. What the hell do you just do?

・❥・

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Note

stepdad!kirishima who’s so cuddly and sweet <33

fat breeding kink too ofc :p

18+ fem!reader // cw: stepcest, infidelity

oh, goodness; now i’m just imagining him taking you on little ‘daddy-daughter’ dates even if you’re over twenty and he’s nowhere near at being your real dad.

he wakes you up early in the morning, only mere minutes after your mom leaves for work, and tells you to get dressed so that you can start your day together by what he calls the ‘right’ way. breakfast awaits you when you finally sort yourself out and go trudging down the stairs, still so sleepy and with your mind terribly hazy from said slumber.

the second you enter the kitchen, kirishima works hard to impress you, the vast variety of exceptionally-prepared breakfast foods that sits on the kitchen counter makes that evidently clear for you. unlike yourself, he’s chatty and bubbly even if the hour is early; he’s just so nice. he talks to you with a subtle, albeit genuine, smile plastered on his handsome face as you indulge in the perfect little stack of pancakes he’s whipped up for you, and keeps grinning even as you finish drinking the homemade orange juice that he’s also prepared all by himself.

he’s definitely a morning person.

amongst other things.

wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you realize you’re not all that used to being alone in the house with another person, let alone him. back in the day, every morning used to be just you and your mom or just you whilst she was away at work, so this entire thing is just so new; the terrain is left untrekked. so it’s no wonder why your eyelids, despite the fact that they still feel so very heavy, blink profusely each time he establishes eye contact with you and keeps it there. why your pulse sort of speeds up when he leans in to take away your plate and utensils and you can smell just the faintest hint of his bodywash.

inhaling the slightly piney smell, you try not to pay any mind to either of those things because the thoughts to riddle you at the whiff of the scent are stupid anyway, they’re as silly as the girl he probably sees you as. but goddammit; as he turns away from you to face the sink so that he can quickly wash the dishes and leave them out to dry, his back muscles turn prominent underneath the thin white t-shirt he wears, and you can’t help but feel just the tiniest amount of jealousy for your own mother start to plague your mind.

after all, her new husband — your new stepdad, remember that — is just so dreamy. his shoulders are broad, his smile is big and kind. you already know how strong he is, you’ve seen him work out in the basement and come home all sweaty and buzzing with energy after the longest run you’d personally never be able to finish. the life that burns in his eyes makes him look so young, and when he leaves his hair down like this… good lord.

you try to push away the filth that continues to swirl in your head even as you finish up with breakfast and he leads you to his car. the drive is nice, he lets you pick the music and even compliments your taste. you try not to stare at him too much but you simply can’t resist a couple of glances here and there.

he’s a good driver, he knows his road manners well. the third time you look at him from the corner of your eye, he catches you but says nothing. instead, all he does is tap his fingers against the steering wheel in a way you’d almost call impatient. the corner of his mouth keeps kicking upwards. who knows what he’s thinking about.

when you arrive to your first destination, he takes you shopping and lets you buy whatever you want just so that he can make a good, hopefully lasting, impression on you that will make you like him even more than you secretly already do. he’s your new stepdad — your attractive, buff, so big that he could probably toss you over his shoulder with absolutely no trouble — stepdad. you’re still a bit wary around him; eyeing him from the side and acting so adorably bashful as you ask him if it’s all right to buy a new skirt you particularly like.

and oddly enough, he tells you that he likes it as well.

you spend the entire day together by going out and about in the city, not just the mall. he buys you both ice cream and doesn’t mind at all when you ask if you can try the flavour he picked, too. with each hour that you pass in each other’s company, you grow closer. you realize that you get along super well, but it doesn’t come as a surprise because he truly is a people kind of person. so charming.

by the time it gets dark out, he drags you to a diner that’s situated close to the highway that will otherwise take you to your new home. it’s almost along the way, he reassures you. the food is so good apparently — him and his best friend bakugou always grab a bite there. you believe him, of course.

the place is nearly deserted, it’s a monday evening and he’s only off work because he made arrangements specifically to spend it with you, but the food indeed is insanely good; just like he’d promised. you keep chatting as you eat in your secluded booth, still having so many subjects to cover; you never seem to run out of them when you’re with him. he listens intently to whatever you have to say, about how it feels somewhat bitter-sweet that you’ll be finishing your last year of college soon, how you’ll miss your roommates, how you need to start job hunting soon.

his foot keeps bumping against your own underneath the table as you talk, talk, talk, and you try to pretend that the — probably accidental — touch doesn’t faze you, but the icy coke you drink certainly becomes extremely helpful when it comes to cooling down the heat that kindles within you all of a sudden. the ice melts on the flat of your tongue so fast.

what it doesn’t help you with, however, is when it comes to enduring the burn of the stretch that his cock provokes inside your pussy the moment he persuades you to join him in the backseat of his car as soon as you exit the diner. but it’s not like it took much persuading to begin with.

the parking lot is abandoned, dark, sketchy. there are no people nearby besides you and him, but there are shadows that twist and dance all over the concrete. it’s nothing like the radiant, sweet man, who you now clumsily exchange kisses with as a means to quiet down the moan that bubbles up your throat as soon as you start to rock your hips against his own whilst sitting on his lap.

his hands are rough to the touch, calloused from years of hard work, as he grabs handfuls of your ass and pushes you further down so that you can at least try and take him entirely. his cock is as big as the rest of him is and once more you’re not surprised by it, even if you are baffled by the fact that he actually enabled you to learn that particular piece of information in the first place.

so yes, you’re fucking your new stepfather. he’s all deep groans and softly-whispered praises as he fills your belly with not just food, but the girth of his dick as well. you try and ride him just like you rode all your previous boyfriends, but it proves to be unsatisfactory because he’s not your boyfriend, is he? he’s your daddy.

and your daddy reminds you of his role when your mother calls, asking him where you’re at, that it’s getting late. biting back a grunt, he has to pretend that he’s driving you both home instead of watching his stepdaughter ride his cock in the backseat of his SUV. that he’s not listening to the quiet little gasps that you keep letting out as he smears your slick and circles your clit with his thumb. that he’s not making you cum just by bucking his hips upward every so often and kissing you so deep that you’re pretty sure you’ll taste him inside your mouth for ages to come.

and he seems to be a nasty motherfucker just like you are, because the moment he hangs up, he makes you quicken your pace and ride him even harder. you need to get home, both of you do, so he tells you he’ll breed you real quick, that he’ll fill you up just because it’ll make you feel so good. that you’ll feel so complete when a part of him reaches so deep into you that you’ll be branded by him forever.

and he’s right, he makes you gush and tighten around him one last time with that promise before he grabs you by the hips and fills you up to the fucking brim. the ropes of white that paint your velvety walls after a couple more of deep, satisfying thrusts feel so warm; they make his cock twitch and his lips quiver before they spill all the praise you’re hastily growing addicted to hearing again and again and again.

“good lil’ girl… fuck, you’re such a good girl for daddy.”

and that’s that and it’s more than enough. by the time you finally arrive home, most of his cum is leaking from your abused hole; dribbling right down the inner side of your thigh. he can see the droplet of milky white glimmering on your skin when he bends down to take his shoes off in the hallway. it makes him smile so sweetly up at you that it causes you to start thinking that you might have just imagined the entire thing.

nonetheless, you can barely wait for your next daddy-daughter date.

who knows what he’ll come up with next time?

#cw stepcest #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #biscuit drabbles #cw infidelity

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ordowrites · 2 months

Text

tender moment with kaeya

cw: mdni mentioned. self indulgent. fluff. mutual pining. kinda self shippy. gn!reader. short but i love him.

there are times where you'll be at his apartment, food cooking and an idle but interesting conversation is going - when he'll take you by surprise by pulling at your waist and gets you flushed close to him.

"care to dance, my dove?"

and despite your startled protests, he teaches you to waltz in his small kitchen - a stupid smile on your face as he looks at you as if he's seen the sun for the first time in his life. as he twirls you, a small part of you worries about the food burning but it disappears when you're close again.

'I love you,' is what you want to say - it's on your lips, you taste it on your tongue but each step makes it harder. if you said these words, would he laugh and reject you?

and a few short moments later, the impromptu dance is over and he's serving you both breakfast. you take whatever you can get from him - thriving in every second.

there is a moment that catches you by surprise. he kisses you on the cheek after, coffee stains his breath but it's perfect. he's perfect.

(you love him, you think)

"see you tonight?" a pause. "your footing needs work."

"then i'll see you tonight."

"until then, i suppose." but he lingers for a moment - staring, wondering. you smile. "yes?"

"nothing. have a wonderful day." there are words that haunt his apartment. you hold his words in your hands, study them and conclude nothing.

but when he pulls you close to him again that night - looking at you like you are the sun and the moon and thw stars - your heart skips a beat.

(maybe he loves you back, you hope.)

dinner will be ready in an hour.

step by step - kaeya leads you, twirls, holds you close - too close - and briefly, when the invisible music stops, your lips touch.

"a good student." he praises.

"a great teacher." you answer and he fumbles. shies away. kaeya is terrible at accepting compliments. "thank you, kaeya."

nothing else has to be said but he's smiling all night - until the two of you fall asleep on the couch together and him clinging to you.

(you think there's something there)

#kaeya x gn reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #kaeya imagines #kaeya x self shipping #kaeya.txt

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flowerbetweenfangs · 4 months

Text

Cream Filling: Chapter Six

CW: Alcohol Consumption.

This is part of an ongoing series, you can read the previous part here.

Chapter Text

It was odd seeing the restaurant when it was set up as a bar.

Elle hadn’t been in the building post nightfall since her interview with Ramses.

Wrecks had stressed it was casual, everyone just there to unwind.

When she pulled open the door, the soft rock music rumbled through the air, paired with a strange scent that made her nose itch. The lighting was mellow, glinting off the glasses across multiple tables. There were a few dishes, filled with half-eaten food on the tables.

A few sticks of incense were at the tables, propped up in ashtrays. Something about it brought a wave of calm over Elle.

“Hey, Rookie! You made it.” Horac waved before leaning over a pool table, sinking what sounded like multiple balls. The antlered bartender stood opposite him, patiently holding a cue.

Elle smiled, giving a wave. Everyone seemed to be in jeans and either a T-shirt or the equivalent. She felt a little overdressed in her… dress.

It wasn’t too fancy: solid green with a drawstring top. There had been too much time spent in the bathroom mirror, agonizing over if she would wear the charm or not.

She’d ultimately decided not to. After all, these weren’t random customers breezing in and out, but people she’d worked with (or at least were under Ramses) so…

Trusting them seemed like the best idea.

Aki and Wrecks were playing darts, with the cat boy looking more and more frustrated with the drider’s accuracy.

“You’ve gotta be cheating!” He protested, tail thrashing back and forth. “I thought you said that you’d never played!”

“It’s not cheating if you’re just naturally good.” Wrecks smirked, before giving a nervous wave to Elle. She returned it, wondering what skills he had learned that would possibly transform into the ability to throw darts well.

“Bah!” Aki frowned, before looking at her hopefully. “Miss Shepard, you want in on the next game?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Elle smiled.

Ramses was behind the bar, mixing drinks. He was wearing his vest and button-up shirt. It figured the boss wouldn’t dress down with the rest of them. Elle wondered if he truly got a day off.

“Glad you made it.” He dropped down, before coming up with various glass bottles. They had some sort of bright green tape on them. “HF” was written on it in marker.

“I mean, you invited me, so why not?” Elle smiled, before becoming serious. “Don’t give me anything too strong, I need to drive home.”

“Of course.” Taking a glass, Ramses began to mix the contents of two bottles together. Elle noticed he was wearing gloves, much similar to the pair Wrecks had given her for the catering order. She grimaced at the thought of what would happen when he took them off.

“We’ll start you off with rum and cola, yeah?” He made sure to go heavy on the cola. “And don’t worry about paying. Drinks and food are free tonight.”

Her favorite kind. One step above “cold”.

Horac came over, walking the pool cue next to him. “Can I get some scotch? Or is Elle the only one allowed to drink the “human-friendly” batch?”

“Fine fine.” Ramses started to pour another glass. “Just leave some for her, eh?”

“Please!” Elle snorted, sipping her drink. “I don’t drink normally anyway, so don’t worry.”

The flavor was rich. She smacked her lips, brows coming together. It tasted… Weird. But not bad. Not the usual sugar-loaded sweetness she expected from it.

“Looks like you got the organic crap,” Horac remarked as he swished around his drink.

“If you don’t like it, more for Elle,” Ramses remarked, casually mixing something and setting it down.

“You’ve got enough here to run a second bar! I’ll need three new livers before I can drink this all.” Elle protested as she nursed her drink. It tasted terrible, but there was extra rum, so she wouldn’t care about the flavor before too long.

“I told you to buy the normal ones.” A legion of voices purred, a dark arm with tapered fingers reaching over her. Elle spun around on her stool to see the Bartender. Even in his band tee and jeans, he still was handsome.

And having him leaning over her, almost pressing on her knees…

“But you insisted only the best.” He took the freshly prepared drink, a long tongue lapping it up.

Elle felt her cheeks flush at the thought of what such a thing could do. She tried to hide her squirming, cheeks feeling like they were on fire.

“Anymore lip outta you, Chorus,” Ramses started, before chuckling and turning to Elle.

“Bah. You at least like it, right?”

His crooked smile showed off those fangs. And Elle suddenly felt a desire for them to be at her neck.

Ugh… Why did she work with so many hot men?

At this rate, she was going to have to start downing a few more drinks to justify the blush creeping to her cheeks.

Stop it, Elle. He’s your boss. Don’t put him in a bad spot… Again.

“It’s the best price you could offer.” She set the half-empty glass down. “I will never complain about a gift.”

Ramses rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t fade.

God, why does he have to be so hot!?

Standing up, she decided to distract herself and sauntered over to the dart game. Her sightly bow-legged walk could be blamed on the alcohol, right?

“Oh, good.” Aki flitted behind Elle. “Please tell me you have a circus background and can throw knives or something?”

“Sadly, not.” Elle picked up a dart, rolling it between her fingers. “Wrecks, go easy on him.”

“He won’t let me!” The drider protested as he collected his darts, before stepping away from the board.

“I have to have some degree of pride!” The Cat Man protested. “Let Miss Shepard be my proxy.”

“No pressure.” Elle stared at the board. It seemed to stretch out so far, yet so close. “Just don’t bet anything you’re not willing to lose.”

After a few test throws, Elle was confident that she did not, in fact, have a secret talent for throwing sharp objects at targets. When the darts actually hit the board, they were barely on the edge. Several thumped against the wall or took a nosedive before even getting close.

“Well, now you know who to take to the carnival to play that balloon game. Win yourself an asbestos-riddled teddy bear.” Horac snarked, racking up the pool balls again.

The next dart Wrecks threw went way off target, sticking into the wall instead.

“Please don’t damage the property if you can help it,” Ramses called out, with the same nonchalant tone as if he’d told them the specials for the night.

“Sorry, Ram.” Wrecks went to get the dart, having to give a hearty tug to dislodge it from the wall. Elle was amazed that a piece of the wood didn’t come with it. He muttered something about Horac and meddling, before going to stand behind the line.

Elle prepared to throw the last dart. The little she’d drank hadn’t been enough, she needed to be a little more inebriated if she was going to play games like this.

Oh come on, you’ll be in a foursome on stage in front of a bunch of strangers jerking off, but this is what has you flustered?

Then again, that was the difference. She would never see the strangers again. And they had at least provided her a mask. Plus, “Miss Lamb” was different from Elle. A honeypot, a creation of Ash to create the perfect trap.

And with Cadence… He understood.

Right?

Aki’s tail brushed against her, the end swatting the hem of her dress, and Elle realized how close they were standing. He was staring… So intently at the board.

His pupils were completely blown, ears disappearing into his hair with how flat they were laid. A warm hand rested on her shoulder, nails barely tracing her bare collarbone. She could feel his heartbeat thudding between her shoulders.

The ache started, and Elle bit down on her lip before something came out that would get everyone’s attention. It seemed like all the demons in the room had made it their mission to fluster her

“One more.” Aki insisted, sounding dazed. “I’m sure you’ll get it this time.”

“Nekokuro, do I have to get a spatula to dislodge you from Shepard?” Wreck asked, raising a brow.

Cool air rushed over Elle’s skin as Aki stepped back, sputtering an apology.

“It’s fine,” She waved it off. “I wasn’t throwing anything, so it’s okay.” And she was grateful that Wrecks was quicker on all six of his feet than she was on hers.

Her legs shook as she took aim. And when the dart left her hand, there was no force behind it.

Then, she felt it. With the snap of magic, something was visible, warping the air in front of her, a shadow rolling over the dart. It was gone just as quickly, but the projectile was back on track and soared into the center of the board hard enough to shake it.

“Um…” Wrecks looked ready to comment again but instead cleared his throat, the silence falling around them as tension began to rise. “So I guess we’ll give that one to you.”

Elle slowly turned around to see Aki, who seemed dazed.

“Aki?” She waved a hand in front of his face, and he shook his head, the blush now gone from his cheeks.

“I… Think I’m going to call it here. Don’t want to be handling things like this if I get a few more drinks in me.” He was cheery, but Elle could sense a bit of fear in his words.

“Did Ramses ever tell you about the time he first put the charm on the loft in place?” Chorus asked, walking over and breaking up the group.

“Not this story.” Ramses groaned. “I’m not a mage, and I had just learned how to draw the runes needed.”

He refilled Chorus’ glass, before making one for himself, sliding the first down the bar to the demon, who took it.

“I thought all demons could do some degree of magic.” Aki’s tail briefly formed a question mark, brows raising.

“Doing and being good at are not the same thing,” Ramses insisted. “I was never a good student compared to my brothers. Not the worst, mind you, but far from the best. I prefer devices that can do it for me. And why I hire you all to work for me instead of doing all the heavy lifting myself.”

Brothers? Well, it made sense. Elle found her mind drifting, wondering if they all looked like Ramses, or…

“Forty years ago, when the first Hellmouth had cracked open…” Chorus laughed, the many layering voices making Elle’s hair stand on end and derailing her train of thought before it pulled into the ‘brothers gangbang fantasy’ station.

Forty years? Elle was reminded how everyone in this room, minus Horac, was all probably old enough to be her Grandfather. Maybe an ancient ancestor. A mayfly amongst dragons, as some would say. She went over to the bar again, sitting in front of Ramses.

Without a word, he began to mix her another drink.

“You had Mr. Pendragon over here decide he was going to try and keep people who got too tipsy and handsy from going up the steps to fool around-”

“That was not the only reason,” Ramses interjected. “There was also a lot of drinks and plates being left up there.” He turned to Elle, opening his mouth to say more, but closed it.

She thought there was a bit of a blush between his scales, but it could have just been the red of his vest bringing it out.

“So anyway… He doesn’t realize you have to be out of the circle before you drop the spell unless you want to be caught up in it. I’m in the basement, and I hear this loud WHAM.” Chorus slammed a fist into his open palm.

“I come rushing up, thinking Mammon himself has nestled on top of the building. And I see Ramses slowly sliding down the front window, crap from his arms making it look like he had the inkiest-”

“I told you the glass was worth it!” Ramses interrupted, before changing the inflection of his voice. “Get the cheaper glass, Ramses, no one’s going to try anything in the Mammon district, Ramses…”

“Well, you got your wish when that pack of Werebears showed up and you had to call backup…”

More stories spilled out, and drinks and food were consumed. From hilarious to serious.

Soon, they had gravitated around the bar, laughing and reminiscing. The tension had dropped, the violent dart throw forgotten.

Aki had taken up the stool next to Elle, legs swinging as he took in everything. It felt… Odd not being the new employee anymore. She wondered if that had anything to do with why he was sitting closer to her. Maybe there was an unspoken kinship?

Oh, you wouldn’t mind sitting closer to him, maybe on his lap while-

Elle blinked rapidly, crossing her legs and shifting. Sober thoughts were well on their way to becoming drunken words. She set her glass down.

“So I’m pinned to the wall by a Drider,” Wrecks explained, taking a swig from his bottle. “And I hear the door open. I’m thinking, “Oh thank Arachne, Horac is coming to rescue me.” But nope.” He moved his index and middle finger up his arm to indicate walking. “Here comes Shepard, one third the size of Calamity-”

“I was easily half!” Elle interjected, feeling rather warm, and emboldened. Yes, it was time to stop with the alcohol. “Calamity was not that big!”

Although knowing that Wrecks had fond memories around that time did make her feel somewhat giddy. She found herself trying to hold back laughter, but a few giggles tittered out.

She could see the collective “Okay, time to cut her off ” look shared between the others.

Aki snorted. “I’m trying to imagine you in the maid outfit trying to be intimidating.” His tail swished lazily back and forth, ears perking up as he took another bottle and poured himself a shot. “You’re easily the smallest one here, and you had to rescue him?”

“Don’t go treating him like a wimp!” Horac interjected, “You shoulda seen him his first day, all the bravado and rep from the Underdark. Had three lamias come in and try to start trouble. This kid.” He patted Wrecks’ leg closest to him.

“Just skittered right up to them and… I dunno what you said, but seeing three grown snake men about to wet themselves was a great way to start the day.” He laughed with vigor.

Wreck scratched the side of his nose. “Oh, that. I am amazed I didn’t get jumped later.” The blush of intoxication was creeping up his cheeks.

“The naivety of youth.” Ramses shrugged. “We all think we’re invincible at one point.” He tilted a bottle in the direction of Aki. “If I recall, I had to rescue you twice over when Tanpopo pissed off someone he couldn't run from and threw you under the bus.”

Aki groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t remind me. Those clubs oni swing around can do some damage. If I had nine lives, I’m sure I lost four that day.” He shuddered. “I don’t even know how he got ahold of that fruit, it’s banned in like… six of the seven districts!”

Elle nearly choked on her drink at the mention of the Kitsune and fruit.

Although she was sure of the berry in question, she had to bite her lips from slipping into that story. The words soaked into her lips, trying to spill out past them.

Focus on not saying something you’ll regret. Get him to do the talking.

“You know Foxy?” The three words were a chore to push out. And once they were out, she instantly regretted it, emotions swirling around, her mind too foggy to decide on which one to latch onto.

Aki gave a quick nod, looking over at Ramses, a slight bit of anger flickering across his features. The primal energy coiled through his muscles, and Elle worried he was about to hop over the bar and attack the demon.

Instead, he tapped the neck of his bottle to the shot glass, making sure to get every drop, before picking it up and holding it above his head, toward the center of the odd semi-circle they’d made. The anger was gone quickly as it arrived, but there was still a hunter’s glint in the yokai’s eyes.

“To new beginnings. And another successful year at Ramses’ Brew, eh?” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but everyone lifted their drinks up and gave a half-hearted cheer, before downing their respective beverages.

Horac spoke first, checking his watch in an exaggerated gesture and giving a theatric yawn.

“I don’t know how the night crew does it, but it’s barely past nine and I am beat. ” He slipped off the barstool, pointing to Chorus. “Next time, you’ll have to show me how to do that trick shot.”

“If I teach you, then it’s no longer a trick.” Chorus shot back, before the two shared a laugh.

Clapping the Boarman on the back, Chorus walked him out the door, their chatter continuing into the night.

“I should probably get going too.” Wrecks sighed, rubbing his face. “If I stay up too much later, then I’ll be exhausted when I come into work.” He grabbed his coat off the rack, giving them all a polite nod, before exiting the bar himself.

Elle looked back and forth between Aki and Ramses, feeling the tension in the room start to rise again.

“Well, I suppose that’s the cue to lock up for the night.” Ramses finally said, breaking the silence. “Thank you both for coming and I hope to see you here again next year.”

Aki grunted, slipping off the stool. “Thanks, Mr. Sesbrun.” He paused, licking his lips.

The corner of his mouth twitched, anger and gratitude warring on his face.

At first, Elle thought the lights were flickering, before she realized it was a strange fog coming off the cat man.

“For everything.” Then, it was gone. Despite the smile, there was venom in the last two words. But without another word, he was picking up his coat and shouldering it, giving a wave and exiting the bar.

Elle swallowed, the sight sobering her up. She looked at the glass in front of her, sliding it away.

“Thanks, Ramses.” She hoped her words sounded steady. The fog around her mind started to lift.

“Thank you, Elle.” He said, taking the glass. “I know this time hasn’t been… Easy, but I appreciate you being here all the same.”

“Well, there’s no better boss in the world.” Slipping off the stool, she went and slipped on her jacket.

“Elle.” Ramses called, not looking up from her discarded glass.

“Yes?” She swallowed hard.

“I mean it.”

She smiled. “I know you do.”

Once she was outside the bar, it locked behind her. Magic sprung up, and Elle felt a rush of energy in the air, before the lights dimmed.

Ash couldn’t replace this, no matter how much he played to her darkest desires.

Going to her car, she paused at the sight of Aki leaning against the wall, facing away from her. The image of him braced against the stone, weak and shaking flooded back into her mind. Slowly, she approached him, but kept her distance.

“Aki? You alright?”

Slowly, he turned around, expression somber. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“I… It’s…” She paused, not sure if she should question which specific instance he was referring to. “I just was worried for a minute. It seemed like Ramses poked at an old wound.”

“I know logically it wasn’t on purpose, but emotionally…” He lifted his hand and wiggled it. “It’s… Tough. I’m the new guy, and I know, and everyone really, doesn’t like me… Especially Ramses.”

“I’m sure he does,” Elle interjected. “He just… Has an interesting way of showing it. I’m sure Wrecks likes you too, he’s just… That way with everyone.” And probably a little intimidated from the weird dart throw.

“And Horac… He’s a dad. His mind’s always on his family.” She didn’t want to speak for Chorus, but she was sure the Legion Demon fell into the same boat. He at least seemed cordial, and if he was Ramses’ oldest friend, then there had to be some degree of trust and respect between the two.

“Still… I need to be better, I didn’t want you to be scared of me.” He paused. “So… That’s it I guess. Sorry if it feels like I ambushed you, but it was going to be ringing in my head unless I said something.” He swallowed. “Being… A little buzzed isn’t an excuse to go flying off the handle like that.”

“It’s appreciated.” Elle licked her lips. “We’ve all done stupid things, but what we do now is what matters, yeah?”

Aki scoffed, before catching himself and slowly nodding. “Right… But I’ve got… A lot of mistakes to make up for.”

Another demon. Another few decades, maybe even centuries of sinning. Elle swallowed.

We’re not all sinners.

Looking around, Elle realized her car was the only one in the parking lot. “Are you going to walk home by yourself in the dark?”

Aki arched a brow. “I mean… Yeah?” He held up a hand, showing slightly longer than normal nails, sharpened to a point. “I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

The same nails that she’d imagined teasing-

No. Not the time. Focus!

“Well, you’ve been drinking.”

“So have you!” He chuckled. “Man, now I know you waltzed right up to the Lady Drider.” He mumbled something else under his breath, but it was hard to make out.

Elle shook her head, stifling a laugh. “Look, you shouldn’t be walking home by yourself anyway. I’m sure this place is safer than most areas, but still.” The anger was completely gone from him, and Elle wondered if it looked worse than it was.

“Is this your way of saying you like me too?” A grin tugged at Aki’s lips, his tail whipping back and forth, ears alert.

“Sure.” Elle gestured to her car. “Behold. The chariot awaits.”

Aki slid into the passenger seat. The heater kicked on, and to Elle’s surprise, he laid his head against the dashboard. There was a strange rumbling. It traveled all the way to the steering wheel, making her let it go.

At first, Elle thought it was the engine acting up, but then she realized it was the Cat Man purring.

Oh no. She could feel her heartbeat quicken. Shifting in the seat, she cracked the window, hoping a bit of cool air would help combat the illicit thoughts now racing through her head. Now she was sure she could do every sobriety test backward.

“Lean back and buckle up.” She said sternly. “I don’t want you going through the windshield if we’re in a crash.” That would be a way to end the night for sure.

And I want you to stop playing into my fantasies!

“What, all 25 miles an hour we’ll be going?” He stayed hunched over the dashboard. “Empty streets in the Mammon district, the only thing we’ll hit is either the Police or the Guardians out late.”

“Aki,” Elle said sternly. “My car, my rules.”

Sighing, Aki straightened and put on the belt, but extended his arms and rested his hands over the heating vents. His fingers wiggled, and Elle wondered if he was a lot more drunk than she thought, or if he was just that much of a feline.

Still, he was belted, so Elle pulled out of the parking lot. Once she turned onto the street, the lights in the restaurant finally went out. At least when driving, she had to focus on the area around her.

“Miss Shepard,” Aki said as they drove down the strip, the streetlights flickering. “You’re playing a dangerous game, working here.”

“I may be,” Elle admitted. “But I’ve got friends here who wouldn’t let anything bad happen.” Although come next shift, she would be wearing the charm again.

“Friends.” Aki prodded. “So… You and Wrecks?”

“What about me and Wrecks?” Elle raised a brow.

“You guys are a…” He raised his pinkie at her. “You know?”

“Friends….?” Elle drug out the word, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Oh!” Aki’s own cheeks were red as he sputtered. “Sorry, I just thought with the spider necklace… And the gloves…”

Horac’s outburst probably didn’t help. Inwardly, Elle groaned and felt her stomach flutter.

She shook her head. “No! Nothing like that. Wrecks just likes making things.” She couldn’t look at him. “He and I are just friends. Horac was just teasing him when he said we were flirting and-”

She paused, realization slowly coming over her.

“Wait, why do you want to know?”

“Er, well…” It was Aki’s turn to be flustered. “I just didn’t want to jump to any conclusions or try and-” He inhaled sharply. “Never mind.”

“You’re a little drunker than you let on, huh?” Elle didn’t mind giving him an out. Inhibitions lowered, the proximity, all the laughing and friendliness from earlier…

Oh no, now she was doing it. She needed to be the responsible party.

They pulled into an apartment complex, a bit more run-down than what Elle would have expected from the Mammon district. It was better than her building but compared to the sparkling and brand new architecture of the rest...

Aki stared ahead, hands continuing to rest on the heating vents. Slowly, he went to unlock the door, before dropping his hand.

“Elle.” He said softly. “Do you… Have anyone waiting for you back at your place?”

“N-no,” She looked at the steering wheel. Was this where the night was heading? It wasn’t a bad way to end things. Certainly better than the empty restaurant. But…

“Aki. You’re nice. But you’re drunk. If we do something, it’s me taking advantage.” Responsible. Yes.

“I’m not that drunk.” He insisted. “Look, if you don’t want to do anything, it’s fine. But… If you want to, I’m sober enough.”

Elle arched a brow.

“Could a drunk guy do this?” Throwing open the car door, he took a few nimble steps away, turning on his heel, putting one arm to his waist, and bowing dramatically.

Then, he suddenly leaped in the air, flipping backward and landing on his hands, holding the position. His tail lashed around, but he stayed statue still. His legs rocked, and he finished the flip, landing on his feet.

Then, his legs buckled, and he rolled backward. Springing up by his hands again, he flipped to a light post and swung around it, knees bent.

“Aki!” She yelled, getting out of the car and running over. “You’re going to fall!”

“I find your lack of faith a little insulting!” Aki called out as she walked over and grabbed his leg, stopping the spin he’d built up. “You want me to start walking and sing the alphabet backward?” He stared at her, his tail thumping against the back of her hand.

“Alright. I get it. You’re sober enough.” She squeezed his ankle, and he wavered, before becoming stiff again. “Just stop being weird about it.”

Aki’s arms relaxed, and slid down, landing right in front of her. His chest was heaving, his face flushed, then he began to laugh so hard tears welled up in his eyes. It slowly died off and stepped back, tail swishing behind him.

“So. I guess this is good night then, huh?” He didn’t sound hurt or disappointed, just… Matter of fact.

Elle felt her cheeks burning. She knew the right thing was to say no. The responsible choice. This wasn’t a lust berry poisoning, a club performance for a favor, or helping a friend out during their mating cycle. It was like she was a damn teenager again, fooling around on school grounds.

“Aki, if you weren’t drunk-”

“Still not drunk.” He insisted, starting to get to his feet. “Or do I need to do the back handspring again to prove my point? Maybe I can do a backflip this time.”

“Aki Nekokuro. Listen to me.” Elle snapped, feeling the power crackle through the air. She made a fist, instantly regretting her choice to use his Name.

Aki froze, his fur standing on end. Slowly, he sat back down. His pupils dilated, nearly overtaking his iris, before violently constricting.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Elle said quickly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with it. You’re not doing it because of some weird attempt to comfort me because I saw your anger, or you’ve got a secret dark side who thinks it’s fun to mess around with humans, or-”

Snorting, Aki shook his head, jumping to his feet. He closed the distance between them. If he blinked, then she was sure his eyelashes would have brushed against hers. Sure enough, his tail was tracing the hem of her dress.

“Or, what if it’s something as simple as ‘I think my coworker is cute’?”

Elle’s mouth closed, and she swallowed. Her lips tingled as his breath rolled over them. She could feel his fur brush against her bare skin. His hand closed around her jacket’s zipper, slowly pulling it down.

“And green’s my favorite color.”

“Cute, huh?” She asked, as he stared and pushed the jacket off her shoulders.

“And magic to boot. What better pair than a witch and her black cat?”

“I’m not a mage.” Elle hissed. “Anyone can use a Name.”

“True. But I was being honest.” His chest rumbled with a purr.

“Cute,” He kissed her cheek.

“Hot.” Her brow. “Sexy.” Her jaw. “Gorgeous.” Her neck. “Unbelievably attractive.” Her shoulder.

Slipping his finger under the now exposed strap of her dress, he pushed it down and planted another kiss at her collarbone. “Magically so.”

“Aki…” She snorted. What a cheesy line. “You use all these on people you wanna bang?”

“Pick your adjective.” His tail brushed against the back of her thighs, starting to go between them, tracing higher under her dress. “Because I think all of them and more.”

Elle’s heart thudded loud enough she was sure he would hear it.

“I’m not looking for… A relationship or anything like that.” She managed to get out. “I’m single, and I want to stay that way for… A while.”

“Good,” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “So then there’s no harm, no foul.”

“Can we at least go inside?” She felt herself shivering, her skin aching for his touch and warmth when it left. Less in a carnal way, but more for body heat reasons. “It’s a little chilly out.”

“I can tell.” His finger traced her nipple through the fabric snickering when she inhaled sharply, a wavering moan working past her lips.

Ears went straight up, alert at the sound. He tried to go back to a more serious expression, but his smile started to break through the thin line of his mouth.

“Sorry. I forgot that you humans have… Almost nothing to keep you warm once you take these-” He gave her other dress strap a tug, letting it fall down her shoulder. “Off.”

“I think we’re past the point of being subtle.”

“Oh thank God.” He doubled over, hands resting above his knees, body shaking with laughter.

His hand wrapped around hers. “So-”

“Wait!” She turned on her heel, running back to her car. “Since someone decided a backflip-”

“Back handspring.”

“- acrobatics were a good sobriety test. I didn’t turn it off!” The door was still open! If she had been in the Leviathan district, she could have had someone sneak in and steal it.

Leaning inside, she quickly turned the key and yanked it out of the ignition, snatching her purse from the backseat.

Then yelped as Aki looped an arm around her waist, lifting her onto his shoulder, kicking the car door closed behind him.

“I gotta admit, I expected you to be a little racier in the underwear department,” Aki commented as he walked, tail swishing in front of Elle’s face.

It brushed against her nose, the tickling making her sneeze. When she went to open her mouth to try and banter back, it nearly got into her mouth. She managed to get a decent grip on the waist of his jeans and keep her face from smacking into the overly excited appendage.

“Next time I go to a work party, I’ll put on my best ‘I’m getting laid’ thong,” Elle grunted as she attempted to straighten herself. “And be sure my dress is long enough so when I’m being caveman carried, my coworker doesn’t get an early peek.” She swatted him on the ass with her purse.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Aki warned, wiggling his hips, stopping to unlock the door of the complex. Before he opened it, he swatted her on the rear, loud rather than hard. “Or you’re going commando.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Elle squirmed at the thought. Was she going to be a brat tonight? Or was the power struggle part of the game?

“Try me,” He teased, hand slipping down and teasing at the edge of her panties, nail sliding under the fabric. She could feel the material strain, before he placed his hand back on her rear, giving it a hearty squeeze.

“And keep your voice down,” His tone shifted to serious. “There’s a lot of old ones who live in the building trying to get some sleep.”

Elle shifted trying to get a look around.

While the lights were on, the lobby they’d walked into was void of people. Small blessings, she supposed. There were a few bulletin boards, papers tacked to them, plastered with stock photos and advertising community events.

She tried to imagine the overstuffed chairs and benches filled with a bunch of elderly people, clutching walkers and canes. The image was… Rather peaceful.

“Do you like it here?” Close to work. And within their price range? Possible rules about after hours noise?

“It’s alright.” He shrugged, jostling her. They got to an elevator and he pushed the button to call it. “Although you have to be at least one hundred and fifty to live here.”

Elle groaned. It figured. These things always came with a catch.

Aki chuckled, before stepping into the elevator as the doors opened.

There were handrails on the walls. Elle grabbed one, taking in a deep breath. “Please tell me you’re almost there. I can feel the blood rushing to my head.”

“Oh?” Aki’s tone was mischievous. “I think I’ll be taking advantage of that sneak peek now.” His arm around her hips tightened.

“Don’t you dare drop me.”

“Then it’s in your best interest to stay still.” Aki’s left hand ran up her thigh, fingers running across her clothed sex.

“Well well, Miss Shepard,” He noisily sucked on his fingers, making Elle’s heart jump. “You’re drenched.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Aki’s tail thumped against her cheek rhythmically, as if scolding her.

After a few test strokes, Aki slid a finger under the fabric, his claws barely tracing over her. Elle’s breath caught and she went rigid, her grip on the rail becoming white-knuckled.

“Relax.” He purred against her thigh. “I’ve done this a time or two before.”

Aki teased, nails pressing just enough for the pressure to be noticed, but never actually causing pain. As he slid his fingers back and forth she could feel them start to become slick. She bit her lip, trying to muffle the moans.

While he never stuck a finger inside, he pumped hard against her, finding her clit and beginning to circle it.

He’d give one lazy swirl, then an agonizingly slow stroke, then go back to circling, alternating between counter and clockwise. And he made sure to wipe the wetness on her thighs, smearing evidence of his work all over.

“Longest elevator ride of your life, huh?”

The ding and the creak of the doors couldn’t come fast enough. Elle was panting heavily, almost unable to let go of the bar as Aki began to step out. Her vision was filled with black spots, every part of her aching to shed her clothes and be filled.

Once he’d unlocked the door he took a few steps into the apartment, wood creaking under his feet. As he moved around in the dark, she could hear a click, and amber light flooded the room.

Blinking rapidly, Elle covered her eyes. There was a thud as her purse hit the floor. After a few seconds, she peeked between her fingers.

“I’ve got you,” Aki reassured her, kicking off his shoes at the entrance, before untying her sandals and letting them fall to the ground.

“Are you planning on putting me down at all?”

“Yep.” He passed an overstuffed couch. At first, Elle worried he was going to put her on it. Her head was spinning so much that she knew that keeping her balance would be almost impossible.

He opened the door to his bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it was pitch black. A few slants of light illuminated a bed, showing a navy blue comforter. The frame also seemed to be a dresser, as there were handles on the side.

Before Elle could take in the rest of the room, she was suddenly airborne. The bed creaked as she landed on it, the comforter floating up on either side of her. The hem of the dress had gone up to her ribs, but she didn’t care.

Aki stood in the doorway, amber eyes almost glowing in the dark. His steps were slow, like a wild cat stalking prey, as he approached the bed.

“Couple things,” He began, tail swishing back and forth behind him. “No, my cock is not barbed.”

The tip of the tail brushed against Elle’s nose, making it wrinkle again. “The further away from the base, the less sensitive my tail is. That being said: If you pull on it, I will not be responsible for what follows, usually a scratch or bite, and not in a sexy way.”

Lifting a hand, he flicked the claws, reminding Elle they were there. As if he hadn’t been teasing her with them for the past fifteen minutes. Then, he traced over her throat, lips following his fingers.

Elle moaned softly, about to grab him. He caught her hand in the air and put them on either side of her head.

Finally, he pointed to his ears, and they wiggled. “Ears are just like yours, but a lot more sensitive. So don’t go tugging or biting on them willy-nilly.”

He hunched over Elle’s form, hands twined with hers, legs squeezing hips. His jeans scratched against her bare legs, his hardness visible. Leaning down, his voice barely above a whisper, he asked:

“Do you still want to do this?”

She nodded.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“You couldn’t have gotten me out of the elevator if I didn’t want to.” Or through the front door, for that matter.

Pulling her dress up, he slid it off her and dropped it on the floor. He stared, finger tracing the V of her neck and collarbone.

Trailing lower, he circled her nipples with his thumb, before lowering his head and giving both a loud suck. She could see a flash of pink between his white fangs, the tapered tips grazing the delicate skin.

Each time his lips closed on her, it sent a shudder through Elle. Grabbing the comforter, she gripped it tight, doing everything in her power to not buck her hips. Not beg him to go faster. Not demand that he stop licking everywhere but the spot he’d been so intent on teasing earlier.

He hooked his thumbs under her waistband after what felt like an eternity of drawn out licks and light nibbles, peeling them off slowly. The friction of the fabric across her skin only served to light the white hot desire further, and she moaned as they finally came off.

Grabbing her legs, Aki hoisted them onto his shoulders.

“Now, I’m going to get this out of the way because everyone I’ve been with wants to know.”

Elle’s sound of confusion became a squeak as he put his mouth directly on her and purred loudly. It was nowhere near what she imagined, and she devolved into a fit of giggles.

Aki looked up at her. There was a light in his eyes she’d never seen before, maybe because the smile finally reached them. Something about it made Elle happy. Surely he’d heard her laugh before, but he’d never looked at her like… That.

“Figure it’s a good tension breaker. I know a lot of people can be… Nervous when it comes to…” He gestured to himself.

“You aren’t,” She managed to gasp between giggles. “My first demon, don’t worry.”

“Yokai.” He insisted. “Although if you want to get technical, half yokai and half fae.”

Elle managed to catch her breath. “Fae?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I… My dad was a nekomata, my mom is a puca.”

That explained the weird fog then. A spirit of a cat and a shape-shifting creature. She knew more about the latter than the former, but still, it wasn’t much.

“I’d rather not think about them right now, so…” Aki’s hand ran up her thigh, “Distract me?”

Hooking her ankles behind his head, Elle ground her hips into his face. He groaned against her, squeezing her thighs and pushing them apart.

Even though he’d proven not to have a rough tongue, she was sensitive to each lick, jolts of pleasure arcing through her. The moans encouraged him further, his tail swishing back and forth as he continued to feast.

She wanted the domestic cat to be put away and have the wild tiger come out to play.

Like before, he’d chosen to be agonizingly slow, drawing out each roll of his jaw. His warm breath made her skin pebble, and she could feel him smile at his work. Running the soles of her feet across his back, she tried to subtly push him closer.

Instead, he rose, pressing his lips to her clit, tongue flitting across it. The sudden speed made Elle see stars, her moan evolving into a scream. Her hands left the comforter, tangling in Aki’s hair just behind his ears, holding him fast.

The barrage continued, claws sinking into skin and raising Elle’s hips. His tail whipped back and forth, stroking her ankles and calves, hard enough for her to gasp.

Rather than a purr, she heard a growl from Aki.

“Come for me.” The words were white hot against her. Elle could only hold tightly, trying to edge herself out a little more.

And then the barrage began again, not letting up.

She finally lost her grip, her whole body shaking. His tongue was unrelenting, alternating between circling her clit and then plunging in and out of her. When she tried to scoot away, he pulled her back, nails scraping delicate skin.

“I said: come for me.” He slapped Elle’s thigh, squeezing it tight, shifting her up so the blood began to rush to her head again. As the world began to spin, she felt herself finally let go, the orgasm rushing out like a geyser.

Growling, Aki began to plunge even deeper, making her scream.

Then, he was gone. Elle’s head continued to spin, hands closing on empty air and feet lowering. But before she could put them on the comforter, he came between her legs again.

“How are you feeling?” He was panting, the slight movement making her quiver.

Elle let out a wavering whine, trying to find the words. The whole room was spinning, and while she felt sensitive, her body was still aching to be filled.

“I think you got to fuck my brains back in.” She managed weakly. “Words are hard.”

“On it.” Aki ducked out of her legs again. A zipper pulled, and he wiggled out of his jeans.

When he turned back to face her, she saw that he really was covered with dark fur all over. It thinned out a little around his hips and abdomen, but he was hirsute. And sure enough, he wasn’t barbed, but he was hard.

There was the tell-tale crinkle of a condom wrapper. As he fiddled with putting it on, he leaned over her.

“You’re going to keep your shirt on?” She tugged on the fabric, sliding her hand underneath it. His stomach and chest were warm, and Elle found her touch climbing higher. But before she could rest against him, Aki pulled away.

“You ever get cat hair all over your clothes?” Aki said matter of factly. “I’d like to not have to hose you off tonight. Or get one of those little sticky rollers.”

He picked up a bottle from the nightstand. It was a clear liquid, with a large silhouette of a large humanoid with horns embracing a smaller form, hearts over the groin region. She’d seen, and used, the brand before. It helped with interspecies couples who found their genitals were a little too large for the orifices of their partners.

He squirted some directly onto the covered head, and gave himself a few strokes, coating his cock in lube.

Grabbing behind her knees, Aki raised them again. Resting her legs on his shoulders, he lifted Elle’s hips. Between the wetness and the lube, he slipped right inside.

Gasping, Elle shuddered, feeling herself clench. It filled her just the right amount, the pulsing of his cock making her sex throb. Even without the lube, he would have gotten in just fine, but she wasn’t one to argue.

She went to try and wrap her legs around him again, but Aki held her fast.

Aki slid in and out of her, taking in deep breaths. Each thrust, while slow, went deep as he could manage. Grinding his hips, he rubbed against Elle’s clit, drawing another moan from her. He sighed in response, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on her knee.

Then, his grip on her legs tightened. Biting his lip, he continued to roll his hips, drawing the act out again. Every time he hilted, it was followed by a withdrawal that would tease him completely pulling out. But before completely exiting, he’d push his way back inside.

While nowhere near as aggressive as before, Elle was still sensitive. Shaking breaths followed the gentle thrusts, and he finally dropped her legs. They were shaking so much it was a miracle he didn’t accidentally gouge or scratch her with his claws.

Forming an arch over Elle, he put one hand at the nape of her neck and the other at the small of her back.

With their bodies pressed together, Elle found her own arms encircling him. Resting her chin at the curve of his neck, she inhaled his scent as he began to pick up speed. His hips continued to grind against her with every thrust, and his breathing hitched.

“You tasted so good around my tongue.” He hissed, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.

“Now I wanna feel you come on my cock.” It wasn’t a demand like before, but it still rumbled through Elle.

She buried her fingers into his shirt and her face into his neck. Thrusts sped up, panting and slapping filling the air. His skin became slick with sweat, and she could feel his cock twitch, begging for a release.

His pubic bone drug across her in a deliberate motion, hips rolling and pressing deeper than he had before, a hand fisted in her hair. Lips latched onto her neck, sucking loudly, before finding her shoulder and doing the same.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she felt the soles of her feet brush against the base of his tail, catching it between her toes.

Aki snarled, hard mouth covering hers. He caught her lips between his teeth, sucking hard, and snarling. His grip on her tightened, pinning her to the bed.

Yanking Elle’s head back, he exposed her throat to him, lips running down it. A growl vibrated through his chest. Fangs traced over the delicate skin, before latching hard onto her shoulder.

Elle gasped, back arching as she felt another orgasm rip through her. She clenched so hard Aki cried out, thrusting into her as his cock emptied. They were in seconds of one another, but time stretched out long enough to where it felt like an eternity.

They stared at one another, panting. Bodies slick with sweat and the condensation of each other’s breath.

Aki broke the gaze first, slipping off and out of Elle. He lapped at her shoulder apologetically, before resting his chin at the curve of her neck, warm breath making her skin tingle.

Peeling off the condom, he tied off the opening and tossed it into a small bin next to the bed.

Through shaking breaths, he planted a gentle kiss on her temple.

“Let’s get cleaned off, huh? You don’t want to try and help me brush this out.”

In the shower, Aki let Elle rest against him, arms circled around her waist. The hot water was a welcome respite. They didn’t say anything, just let it roll over them.

Then, when Elle felt she’d had enough, Aki helped wrap a towel around her. Then, he walked her to the bed and had her side, before closing the bathroom door again.

The roar of a hairdryer quickly followed. She had a feeling that it would least likely be the sound neighbors would complain about.

Elle sat, staring at her clothes on the floor. Part of her wanted to just leave right then and there. But… If Aki had wanted her to, he would have said so, right?

While she was sure dating was off the table for a long while it was… Nice.

Sex without extenuating circumstances, bargains, or expectations for something else. No pressure for more or what was next.

She checked her phone for notifications, sighing when she saw it was empty.

Hopefully, Ash would call her soon with the great news that Adrian was captured.

Then she could figure out what the next step would be. Her thoughts started to run together, and she found herself dozing.

Aki came out of the shower, rapidly blinking at her presence. Despite his stoic face, his fur puffed up. It was almost comical, but Elle was barely able to hold her head up.

“S-Sorry. I didn’t want to leave without saying ‘good bye’.” A weak excuse.

“I’m… Actually kind of glad you stayed.” He admitted, “Driving tired is almost bad as driving drunk.” Staring at the bed, he cleared his throat.

“We, uh, don’t have work tomorrow, but you can leave first thing in the morning.” His tongue flitted across his lip.

“Or… You can stay for a bit. Don’t feel pressured either way.”

She couldn’t help but smile. At least they were on the same page. An understanding.

Temptation had nothing on this.

“You know what… That sounds like a great idea.”

You can read the next part here!

#monster love #monster lover #monster x human #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monsterfucker #terato #monster smut #cream filling

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months

Note

Hi. I don’t know if I’ve requested here before, but I have a (semi) great idea.

The rundown is somehow Caine found a karaoke machine! This leads to an iha where everyone + reader and Caine sing. (Honestly I just want to see what you’d think they’d sing).

Thank you!❤️❤️

KARAOKE TIME IN THE CIRCUS!

quick warning that you guys are about to be exposed to my music taste because i rarely ever listen to songs that dont fit my tastes so uh uh theres your warning, i know i have a warning somewhere on my acc where i say OOC is a possibility but i think it will really shine through here short post since its just me dropping what song i think each character would sing + links! this actually reminds me, ive had an IHA idea where its basically a musical episode where everyone cant talk, only sing but idk what the actual adventure itself would be and how music would tie in shrugs

CAINE:

as much as i wanna say hello world by louie zong, because AI stuff and bc ive been listening to it for the past hour on loop, i feel like that would be too on the nose and even completely out of character. so instead i suggest jerryterrys version of the boys are back in town

for one i am absolutely obsessed with jerryterrys version of the song above, as well as kiss me (kill me), i highly recommend you guys check out the music videos and put together the lore (CW for body horror in kiss me kill me, though!)

but like, my brain juices are flowing, like. i can see him singing the original, but imagine how unnerving it would be (assuming caine is actually going to be an antagonist) for the words to just. change and come out wrong in front of everyone

also i just want an excuse to gush about jerryterry

i love when people make song covers that sound like the original but theres something so terribly wrong

actually i love songs like that in general

caine gets two, because i can also see him singing charlie's inferno

POMNI:

oddly enough i can see pomni being into vocaloid and/or songs from anime. maybe its because her voice actor has voiced someone in JJBA and that fact is plaguing my mind, but i can now distinctly hear pomni singing some of my favorite songs in these genres... alas i dont have a set song in mind: so i will give you a song that does not fit the above at all, everyones favorite classic; come along with me from AT

JAX:

i give him, the main character by will wood because i can definitely see him singing this to be a little shit as well as genuinely. kind of seeing him enjoy the song

not much to say here since im not totally sure what jax would listen to :(!

RAGATHA:

okay i know i just brought up jerryterry's kiss me kill me, but that reminded me of the original kiss me because it does give me ragatha vibes

KINGER:

stumped on kinger, but first song that comes to mind is able by jack stauber i have nothing to explain this, but i will partially blame me listening to jack stauber a lot to be the reason

ZOOBLE:

cant explain this one either, i think its the tone of the voice but also im getting back into the scary jokes and

yeah

anyways icicles by the scary jokes , i can just see it

GANGLE:

okay so this one is less of a "i can see gangle singing this" and more of a "this makes me think of gangle" but imma put it here anyway since i dont have any other ideas for her !

today today by jack stauber

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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ghcstpyre · 3 months

Note

Ted’s first joint headcanons, please 🥹

Also, imagine shotgunning a hit with Ted 👄💨👄🫠🫠🫠

it's time for the resident stoner to write some stoner!ted headcanons. i feel like this is becoming my staple lmao i love it

cw: drug use (weed), underage drug use and underage drinking (only at the beginning), shotgunning

also i feel like i need to say this but obviously i don't condone doing drugs or drinking alcohol while under 18. this is fictional and all my own personal headcanons :)

ted (and by extension, bill) were 16 the first time they tried weed. they'd somehow managed to get invited to one of their classmates' house parties and at some point in the night had found themselves sat outside in the back garden with a group of people who seemed the complete opposite of drunk and smelled really funky. they'd accidentally slipped into rotation while a blunt was going round, not realising at first that the group was sat in a circle for a reason.

bill was more than happy to give it a go when it was offered, but being the more cautious of the pair, ted was a little nervous. if his dad somehow found out, or smelled it on his clothes later, he was toast. after some encouragement from bill and a few of the others in the circle, he caved.

much to his disappointment, ted didn't actually get high the first time he smoked. he felt more relaxed, but that was about it. he spent the rest of the night slowly sipping on his beer and laughing at/taking care of a very stoned bill. it wasn't exactly an unpleasant experience for him - he didn't cough his lungs up like bill had, it didn't taste terrible like he'd expected it to, and one of the cute girls in rotation had called him a natural which acted like a soothing balm over the simmering pot of nerves still lingering in his stomach.

it wasn't until a few years later that bill and ted became fully fledged pot heads. they'd smoked a little here and there when it was offered, but only managed to get their hands on a dealer's number sometime after graduating high school and moving into their apartment.

ted was designated roller the day they christened their apartment. they'd both attempted rolling before, and while they weren't the best, ted's rolls were infinitely better than bill's; wonky, a little loose and slightly pregnant, but smokeable. needless to say, the two of them got blazed that day and ted actually managed to get high. bill blamed it on his height ("you're just too tall dude!"). they ordered a copious amount of junk food and ended up passed out together on their shitty sofa with a nature documentary on tv.

it wasn't until you came into the picture that both boys actually got good at rolling. ted in particular. not because he wanted to impress you or anything, no way. a cool, sweet, totally bodacious babe who liked all kinds of music, smoked weed and wanted to hang out with him? it was almost too good to be true.

one night with you in particular made ted's head spin.

bill was at work, leaving you and ted alone in the apartment. obviously, ted had already rolled another for the two of you for when bill left - he'd been waiting for a chance to smoke with you alone. it was the perfect chance to make a move.

he'd planned on ordering food, sticking on a movie (maybe a rom-com, girls like that right?), scooting closer to you on the sofa while you smoked and maybe try the whole fake-yawn and stretching an arm behind you maneuver. ted only got as far as scooching closer when you plucked the blunt from his fingers and took a long drag before cupping his cheek, turning his head to look at you so you could part his lips and blow the smoke into his open mouth.

in that moment, ted was pretty sure he fell in love with you.

#ted logan x reader #ted theodore logan #bill and ted #tw drugs #yeah ted is corny as hell. he would totally try that move #guy definitely gets all his moves from shitty romance films and rom-coms #also no matter how much bill smokes his tolerance is still shit. sorry ted but as a tall boi you have a good tolerance rip #i have lots of headcanons i could talk about forever lol #anyway thank you for the ask! <3 #w: headcanon.#c: ted logan.#m: ask.

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phonkscribes · 1 year

Text

Under Our Stars

It’s one run in after the other. Things don’t seem like they plan on letting up any time soon so… why not make do with the time you’ve got now? Dante can’t sleep anyhow and what better way to cut loose than while sharing a beer with you. The sky’s beautiful and the liquor keeps you warm. Maybe something else might too… with the two of you being out under the night with your thoughts, you can’t help but to want to take a chance.

Dante & a GN! Reader sharing a late night drinks. CW for alcohol consumption.

There were two chairs pulled out at the top, plastic ones he’d picked up from the street actually. They were just sitting there and if he passed them up, he would’ve regretted it. Much to Lady’s disdain, Dante had set up the worn plastic lawn chairs with a bucket besides him as he popped the cap of a chilled bottle on his sword. The hiss it makes as foam bubbles up is music to his ears. The only thing that would make this better is if there was a box of pizza besides him. The hour is late, like, waaaay too late. Any shop that slings a decent pie is closed, which puts a small frown to his face, only for a moment though.

He leans back on the plastic chair, stretching his legs out on the rest as he looks up at the sky. The endless darkness unnerved him to a degree, with things looking uncertain save for the little pinpricks of light that dotted the pitch black like freckles or moles. It’s peaceful, more than he’d had all day to be frank. Dante can’t believe that he’s slept under it so many times without ever really admiring it like this before. The beer bottle is brought to his lips as he takes a quick swig, swallowing the stout brew down and going to lick his lips to take a glance at the brand. Cheap beer doesn’t usually taste so good, but he’d make sure to get a different brand next time.

It was gross, there wasn’t really anything that made it worth finishing… but he might as well. He already opened it and he didn’t want to leave it unfinished. A sigh is pulled out of him, he could’ve probably poured it over the ledge of his shop, but then he could’ve hit Vergil or whoever else was coming in from a job. Oh god… a pissed off Verge coming up to beat his ass after a tough day, that would’ve been scary to deal with. Though it wasn’t his brother making his way up the steps.

It was you.

Dante’s known you for a while, longer than Lady and long enough to be well acquainted with Morrison and the type of commissions he brought to the table. You weren’t quite a devil hunter back then, just a mercenary looking to make it big and earn enough just to get by. Your knack for staying alive and pension for violence made you pretty infamous, going as far as to earn you the title of Roach, since there wasn’t a job that had killed you just yet. It’s something that he calls you even now, through the rubble and onslaught of demons that herald and accost you and Dante on missions, you still crawl out kicking.

Back to back the two of you have fought together, calling it close more times than you'd be able to count. He was always worried, even if he never said it outright. There was this little look he'd get in his eyes that made him look younger than he was, something you never failed to notice. It was like Dante was holding his breath, waiting for something to happen if anything was going to happen at all. When things turned out fine, he'd just laugh it off, like he was expecting all to end well. You had opened the door to the Devil May Cry after a particularly frustrating job. Pest control has its pros however, the client paid you good to get rid of the insectoid demons sitting outside of the site.

Your arms are killing you, your back sore from all that heavy lifting with your trusty hammer resting on your broad shoulders as you let the door close behind you. All things considered, it wouldn't have been a terrible idea to turn in for the night and hit the sack. Though... you didn't want to sleep just yet. Leaving your trusted weapon by the door, you make your way to the kitchen, remembering that you'd bought a pack of beer earlier in the week. Cracking a cold one while laying beneath the stars sounded like a better pass time than staring at the ceiling while you tried to teeter off to unconsciousness. The fridge is empty when you look inside, but you're not surprised by that. That just meant someone-- definitely Dante-- nicked some beer off of you. He probably took the pack with him, which you didn't mind all that much either.

Trish said you two were more alike than the two of you'd ever realize, though you're a bit more level headed than the younger son of Sparda. With a knowing sigh, you close the door and hike it upstairs to meet him there.

Dante sat there, arm resting on the back of the lawn chair in anticipation. He'd been waiting, not long since you knew he'd be up here, but still waiting. He's got that look in his eyes, and you give him a look of your own as you mosey on over to join his side.

"I thought Lady told you not to bring those in", you take a seat, groaning as you plop down into the plastic.

"You won't tell on me, will ya? Here", he picks up a bottle from the bucket between the two of you and pops the cap off using the rim.

"... Thanks", you take it, deciding not to comment on him giving you your own beer. You bring it to your lips and swallow it down, the taste only hitting your tongue a second afterwards.

Dante chuckles at the face you make, watching as you slowly turn the bottle over to look at the label. Definitely not getting this again. You're baffled at how badly it tastes, but continue to drink it anyways. You've had... well you can't really say you've had worse than this.

"Tastes like..?"

"Tastes like horse piss", you finally say, earning another chuckle from the legendary devil hunter.

You give him a soft smile as you eye the bucket, there's two more in tow, not that you'd take another after finishing the first. Dante swirls the bottle around in his grasp like it's a fancy wine glass while he eyes you, you flick your eyes over to him and study his expression for a moment. You're not shy, not at all, but... it's different when it's him. You're looking up at the dark sky, illuminated by the stars as you let him muse some more. You hate how you tend to squirm when you know he's been looking at you for long enough.

"You have a good day today?", he asks, grinning as he turns to look at the stars too. They really are so gorgeous tonight. It's not often that Redgrave allows for starry nights.

"Mm, better now that I'm back", you say, trying to word things carefully.

Today kind of sucked, but you weren't going to tell him that per say. It was sort of uneventful aside from the job you took earlier. It's not that it was hard, but there were just so many. Your arms would be as heavy as lead tomorrow, that you were sure of.

"Good to hear. Can't say the same for myself", he took another swig for the sake of it.

"Why? You forget to take the trash out again?", you asked with a small laugh in your voice. You'd seen him get scolded before by Trish for not bothering with keeping the place clean. It's alarming how grimy he can be, and a miracle that any of you are able to put up with it.

"Whaaaat? No...", Dante says it in a way that sounds uncertain, "I just didn't have anything better to do, and no one to bother, but now that you're here~" "Right, right", you shake your head before the silence between you two settles in again. Not that you mind, but you'd know that Dante would.

The hunter wasn't really one for comfortable silences, they always felt awkward for him. When were you supposed to break them? When was it alright to cut in and say something? Of course, if you didn't say anything, he wouldn't say anything. You get the urge to when you have the cold bottle start to nip at your finger tips.

"It's a nice night out", finally turning to look at him.

His hair falls in front of his face like a mop, you're not sure how he's able to say anything with the strands of white sitting in front of his face, but somehow he makes do. His eyes are a soft kind of blue, the color of daylight. He's got a couple of wrinkles too, you notice, just around his eyes as he holds that easy smile. It makes you twist at the thoughts you think up when your own eyes rest on him for too long. In the time that you've known him for, something started to develop between all the fights for life and death.

Something he doesn't know about.

"Sure is...", he trails off, setting his bottle down on the ground between his legs.

He's got his hands in his lap, fumbling with his gloves for a second. You want to say something, maybe you're on the cusp of it before he starts talking about how he wished he had some pizza right now. He can never get enough of the stuff. The conversation carries itself after that, the two of you going back and forth with how there are other places to order from with you even suggesting that he learns how to cook for himself. He retorts by saying he'd burn the kitchen down. You fire back by saying you'll teach him not to. Dante complains that he can't get boiled water right.

You're both fascinated and frustrated by how stubborn he can be. Your exasperated responses only make him laugh when you tell him you're being serious(you're not.) He knows you just as well as you know him, given that he'll relent if you keep pressing eventually, but it's so like him to still want to push your buttons. How could he not when you reacted like he'd bombed an orphanage? With every offended gasp and 'HUH?!' he'd inch his way closer to you, and you'd do the same. You're pressing your knees together, a little cold from being out on the roof and nearly huddling together just to stay warm. The night is getting older and older, you realize but you're still not tired.

Dante gives you a little nudge, looking at you for a hot second. By then, you'd gotten through the first bottle, and out of boredom you started on your second which was just about done. He had stopped after he finished his first, and even joked about you liking the taste of horse piss with how you still drank it even if it was gross.

"What?"

"Nothin'... just... Mm, I don't know", he shrugged, his sky blues going to steal a glimpse at your lips. A hand reaches out to touch your knee. You look at it like it's a bug, surprised but indifferent. You could move it if you’d like, but you let it remain.

He likes the way you, in spite of how seriously badass you were and could be, got nervous when he did this. It wasn't hard to throw you off guard, at least when it didn't matter like this. Your heart falls upon his ears as your eyes slowly look up to meet his. The hand travels upwards, sliding against your thigh as he shifts his seat to be closer towards you. If you didn't want this, he'd pull away, slip through the door and leave you be. He hoped he wasn't wrong about this. You swallow dryly, reaching up yourself to gingerly reach out and touch him too. Your tedious approach is endearing, ever careful as you inch closer and test his own knee as if it were unfamiliar territory.

Gravity draws the two of you together, Dante leans in and you get a whiff of his scent. He smells like sweat and blood, mingling together nicely with his musk. It’s earthy, grounding… entirely home. You smell a thousand times better, in his opinion. He could breathe you in for hours, but he’d rather have a taste. One of his hands comes up to brush your hair out of the way, his thumb padding over your cheek as he moves in for the kill. It’s so cute to hear your breath catch in your throat as he presses his lips against yours.

You feel… soft to him here.

It’s almost ticklish, prompting a smirk as you lean into him. Your own hands coming up to mirror his own. They’re a bit cold from nursing the shitty bear, but they’re plenty welcomed. It’s comforting, gentle and speaks volumes. Just how long have you been keeping yourself at bay? The kiss was naive in the beginning, but now he wanted more. He wanted to get past that nasty beer taste on his tongue and he wanted to feel your warmth on the inside.

You were hungry for that, he could tell, could feel it as you were on the precipice of surrendering. His other hand works its way up your leg some more, almost coming flush against your pelvis before a door is opened. The sound jostles you as he pauses and draws back to see who it was interrupting your soiree. While you move to get more comfortable in the plastic chair, he seems to be having a chat with Trish, something about Lady having told him to take out the trash. The demoness was about to lay into him further, before she glanced over to see you sitting a little too close to Dante.

“I got it, I got it”, he says.

Trish disappears with a quiet chuckle as the son of Sparda spares you a knowing look, apologetic for a second before putting on a more hopeful expression.

“I’ll be right back if you wait for me”

“Don’t keep me long”

#phonk scribes #dmc imagines #devil may cry imagines #dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #dante sparda x reader #fluff #cw: alcohol #[ picking this up from may!! ]#[ still working on requests but i had the sudden muse to finish this up to get it out of my drafts ]

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mabelstone · 1 year

Text

First Name Basis

matt stone x reader

summary: part five of Professor Stone.

masterlist can be found here 🧚

word count: 3106

note: fuck. drink every time i use the word gentle. i’m tired i’m sorry. anyway, i've starved you long enough, here's a long one :)

CW: throwing up alcohol, angst, 18+

You walked into class possibly the most hungover you'd ever been. Sunglasses on, a turtleneck hugging your throat, and the hangxiety from the night before lingering strong. You were still trying to piece together the events of last night with great difficulty. For now, the one thing you were certain about was that you'd never drink tequila again, your head was pounding like you were in a club with bass way to obnoxious, and that you were going to do your best to stay on your professor's good side.

Luckily for you, Professor Stone was in a great mood today. Unfortunately, that wouldn't last long.

Anyway, you thought back to what you could remember while you waited for him to arrive.

You pushed through the sweaty bodies in the crowded dorm room of your friends. The air reeked of pot, and the music was far too loud for your liking, your body vibrating from the heavy bass. It started with you taking a couple shots with your girlfriends, fighting back a gag after each bitter mouthful. By the end of the night, you'd consumed about 12; a terrible, terrible idea you'd soon find out. Before the drinks hit you like a bus, you were having a great time. You weren't ever really the party type, but your best friend was turning 23, and you'd never turn down free booze. You drunkenly sung karaoke with your friends, lapping up the attention you received from the invited men all night.

"Dance with me?" One suggested, arm extended to you. You looked at your friend with a shrug, what the hell, you thought, taking his hand in your own. He led you to the only free space in the living room, hands all over your body. You threw your head back and laughed, basking in the giddy, inebriated feeling you were drowning in.

He was getting a bit too touchy for your liking, so you made up the excuse, "I've gotta use the bathroom." You unwrapped his arms from you, drink in hand as you headed to the bathroom. On your walk there, everything started spinning, and you felt of the drinks begin to stir in your stomach.

With the worst timing ever, you felt a gentle grip on your arm as you focused on not throwing up everywhere. "Hey stranger," a familiar, dorky voice spoke softly in your ear.

"Trey!" You turned around, feigning enthusiasm as you embraced him. God, you prayed the bathroom would free up quick. "I didn't know you knew Mackenzie."

"Friend of a friend," he shrugged, concern suddenly painting his face. "Shit, you're so pale."

"Gee, thanks," you laughed meekly, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead.

"No, seriously, you look like you're going to be sick." His brows furrowed together as he studied your features. Your skin was pale and clammy, and your world was spinning like a wheel.

"I think I am," you nodded, swallowing thickly. He ushered you to the bathroom, the last occupant walking out finally. You rushed in, immediately kneeling before the toilet. Trey stepped in and shut the door behind you both, genuinely worried about you. "Please don't watch me vomit," you begged, spitting out the pool of saliva that swam in your mouth.

"Okay, I won't, but I don't want you ruining your hair either." Like a cheesy high school romance movie, his slender fingers pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, respectfully turning his head away from you as you threw up straight alcohol. "Thas' it, get it out," he encouraged, eyes still looking away. Tears were running down your face at this point, forehead resting on your arms that clung to the toilet seat. Albeit, you felt much better.

You sat back from the toilet bowl, catching your breath with a scowl at the bitter taste left in your mouth. Trey was staring. You looked up, a bit embarrassed but you really needed that. “I just lost my study privileges, didn’t I?” You joked, picking yourself up off the floor.

“Study isn’t a euphemism is it?” He joked, watching you walk to the basin to chug the conveniently placed bottle of listerine.

He watched you intently through the mirror, small smirk on his lips. You swished the listerine and spat it out, wiping your mouth before saying, “Depends. Were you offering we study or we study?” You put emphasis on the second study, flashing him a flirty smile through the mirror.

“Both.” He replied lowly, stepping closer to you, gently turning you around by your waist. “But to answer your question, no, you haven’t lost your… study privileges.”

You stared into each others eyes for a moment, trying to search for any potential misunderstanding. His blue eyes sparkled as they looked between your own and your lips. His hands, still on your waist, slightly tightened in grip, a gentle expression on his face, as to silently ask, “is this okay?”

Still no words exchanged, just the sound of soft breaths slowly moving closer until you could both feel it against your lips. A gentle hand found it’s way at the back of your head, closing the gap between your lips. You closed your eyes and melted into the kiss, your hands also gentle over his biceps, polar opposite in contrast to the way you and Matt would kiss.

Why were you thinking about Matt?

His touch was light and respectful, as if you were a fragile piece of glass. Though very sweet, his hands travelled to your lower bum, lightly tapping the skin. You understood his cue, propping yourself up on the bathroom sink. You were now at eye level, and his mouth swiftly traveled to your neck. You were amazed at how an encounter so gentle and… kind could turn you on just as much as the rough, teeth clashing, hair pulling exchanges you were used to.

You moaned softly, fingers gently running through his hair. not pulling with greed, but bringing him closer with invitation. He sucked the skin of your neck, drawing sweet breaths from your lips as purple bruises formed. You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t ever want it to end.

Of course, pounding on the door pulled you both away from each other. He smiled at you sweetly, bringing your hair forward to rest on each shoulder, covering the little love bites he’d painted you with. With one more warm kiss, he pulled you off the sink and opened the door for you.

You then drank some more together. And that’s about where your memory fades.

You looked over to Trey who looked just as hungover as you, forcing a smile onto his lips as he waved across the room. You felt your cheeks grow hot, giving him a small wave back before turning back to the front.

“Mooorning,” your professor chirped as he walked in, happier than usual. He put his stuff down on the desk and looked toward the class, half hungover as fuck, the other half insanely confused as to why he was so happy. You’d bring it up after class. For now, you decided to use his good mood to your advantage, flashing a sweet smile when his eyes flickered to you. He… actually reciprocated for once?

“I’m tired,” you mouthed to him across the room. He nodded understandingly, smile surprisingly not faltering as you rested your head on your arms. He just went about the lesson.

You were woken by a gentle shake of your shoulder, jumping slightly with a sharp breath. “I’m only letting you off just this once, okay?” Your professor joked, “Don’t make it a habit, miss.”

You stretched in your seat, kind of disturbed to see him smiling not at the expense of someone else.

“And why might you be so happy, sir?” You quirked groggily, taking your glasses off and sitting them on the desk. From removing your glasses alone, he could tell you’d been drinking. The smile faltered slightly, but not noticeably.

“Divorce is finalised. Got shared custody of my kids,” he boasted, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiled wide. “Got a pretty girl in front of me.”

“I’m so happy for you, Mr. Stone!” You cheered, getting out of your seat to embrace him in a genuine hug. It was nice to see him like this. Hopefully he’d stay this way for a while.

As you pulled away, he smirked, “big night, huh?”

Your cheeks turned red as you nodded. You weren’t sure why you were embarrassed, especially when you were an adult who was allowed to do that. Maybe the embarrassment was actually a well masked feeling of guilt.

His eyes were trained on you, burning a hole in your outfit. He grabbed the hemming of your shirt, asking, "this new?"

"Um, yeah," you lied. You never actually really liked turtlenecks, the feeling of it on your neck pissed you off, but when the time calls. "Do you like it?" You tried to sway his attention away from why you were wearing it.

"Yeah, you look good." He smiled and headed back to his desk. You silently thanked whatever God there was for his dismissal. As per usual, he beckoned you over to his desk, where this time he gestured for you to sit on his lap. Which of course, you willingly did, wrapping your arms around his neck before connecting your lips. You breathed deeply, taking in his scent, his warmth. You tried to ignore the guilt you felt about Trey. You really liked your professor, but it wasn't like you were gonna be together or anything. His fingers dipped into the neckline of your shirt while your lips were still entwined. You quickly grabbed his wrist, blurting out, "I wanna make you feel good." Good save. Luckily, he wasn't suspicious, allowing you to kiss his neck instead, palming him through his jeans.

You grinned in delight as you felt him quickly grow against your plam, his hands eagerly running up and down your figure. You placed a heated kiss on his lips once more, sinking down to your knees. He watched in anticipation as you unzipped his pants slowly, biting your lip as you watched his cock throb against the constraint of his briefs. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, watching the way his eyes turned dark as you teased him. You placed an open mouthed kiss to his clothed cock, proceeding to lick a stripe across the wet patch formed on the front from his pre cum.

You pulled his briefs and jeans down agonisingly slow, mouth practically watering as his leaking cock sprung out before you. You wrapped your hand around his base, applying a bit of pressure before slowly pumping your hand, giving a little kitten lick to his tip. You noted the way his eyelids fluttered and nostrils flared under your touch. "How bad do you want it, sir?" You batted your eyelashes at him, secretly shocked at the words that just left your mouth.

He raised his eyebrow at you, snorting, "what was that?" He wanted to play tough now, huh? You released him from your grip, sitting back onto your heels, looking up and him with a smirk.

"Oh, I guess you don't want it that bad," you sighed, standing up and beginning to walk away. "I best be going then."

His hand wrapped around your forearm, pulling you back toward him. He dropped his pride, basically whimpering, "I need you, Y/N."

He grabbed your hips and guided them above his own, lifting your impossibly short skirt up and pulling your knickers to the side. He then spat on his fingers, spreading it generously over your hole. You braced yourself as he lined his cock up with your entrance, asking softly, "you ready, pretty girl?"

You nodded, biting your lip. You both held eye contact as he slowly pushed himself in, a soft groan falling from his lips. You briefly broke eye contact, eyes screwing shut with furrowed brows, gasping at the feeling of him stretching you deep, every inch of your walls engulfing him. You gently rocked your hips, adjusting to his size, opening your eyes again to see his still locked on yours, hungry and hooded. His hands were on your hips, beginning to guide you up and down after you gave him an approving nod. It felt intimate, completely different to what you were used to with him. Slow movements, growing pupils, lips connecting to share soft, deep kisses.

You were unfamiliar with the feeling you were experiencing. A giddy, warm feeling that was foreign in contrast to the usual provocative, needy, lustful feeling you felt with your professor. He began thrusting up into you in time with your own motion, lips grazing your cheeks or forehead every so often. It was otherworldly. It always felt amazing, but there was something about this time. Instead of your usual loud and obnoxious string of curse words and heady moans, today you were both letting out short breaths and words of praise. His arms had snaked their way around your waist, basically hugging. Your head was rested on his shoulder, nails lightly raking his back through his shirt as you whimpered quietly, making sure he knew how good he was making you feel.

"That's it, darlin'."

"Does that feel good?"

"You're such a good girl, Y/N."

It was overwhelming in the best way possible, you didn't want it to end. That was until he started pulling your top off. You halted all movement, removing your hands from him and quickly pulling your shirt down.

"What are you doing?" He frowned, sitting back from you. You couldn't even find the words to say, tripping over your tongue as your brain failed to form an excuse. His brows knitted together as he pulled down the neck of your shirt, deadpan expression when he saw the light hickeys on your neck. You froze.

He chuckled dryly in disbelief, shaking his head and jutting his jaw. You climbed off him, watching the way he quickly pulled up his boxers. You felt sick.

"Sir, it isn't what you think." You lied through your teeth, slightly panicked.

"Aren't you a little old for that?" He laughed condescendingly, standing up to zip his pants. He towered over you and you sunk down into yourself, feeling ashamed and smaller than ever. You didn't say anything, just stared down at your feet, incredibly embarrassed.

"So, who was it?" He questioned, sighing as you fiddled with your fingers behind your back, eyes still locked on the ground. "Ah. I see."

"It was nothing more than a drunken kiss," you defended yourself, so quiet it was barely audible. "I promise it meant nothing."

"No need to explain yourself to me," he scoffed, bitter. "You can explain to Trey why he's gonna get kicked from my class."

"Oh, come on." You grumbled, rolling your eyes. There it was, there was the fiery side your professor knew and loved. "We aren't exclusive, Mr. Stone. I've never even called you by your first name."

"You could have?" He laughed in your face. "You're unbelievable. You'll put my cock in your mouth every single day, yet you're stuck on the fact you've never called me by my name? Like, come on, you've gotta hear how stupid you sound."

That's when the lump in your throat formed. He was back to the nasty version of himself you hadn't missed. Fighting your hardest not to tear up in front of him, you hissed, "What the fuck do you want me to say? I like you, Matt. A lot."

"Then why are you letting Mr. C plus shove his tongue down your throat?" Still towering over you, his tone was cold and intimidating. You never picked him for the jealous type... but then again, you never picked him for the bending-his-students-over-his-desk type either.

"What are you gonna do, huh?" You taunted, a new wave of confidence striking you. "Ask me to be your girlfriend?" The cocky smirk on your face elicited a rage deep inside Matt that was close to exploding.

"Get out." He commanded flatly, inches away from you.

"W-what?" You laughed in his face, the knot in your throat forming again as your cheeks heated.

"I said get out." He spat, eyes gleaming mean. "You're a brat. You're gonna learn the hard way that talking to people like that is only going get you hurt."

Your eyes burned as tears began to form. "I didn't mean it," you choked trying to blink away the tears. "I really like you, I didn't mean it. I just thought you only wanted sex, I'm sorry-"

His face softened as you spoke, grabbing your jaw before kissing you softly. You breathed hard through your nose, tears threatening to fall as you closed your eyes. He pulled back and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb.

He was one confusing motherfucker.

"I'm sorry, Matt, it didn't mean anything, I didn't let him touch me or anything, I only want you, it was a stupid mistake-" you babbled through tears, a sudden heavy feeling of regret weighing on you.

He pulled you into a hug, shushing you, running his hand through your hair. "It's okay, no need to cry."

You pulled back after a while, two smudged lines of mascara on the chest of his shirt.

He chuckled softly, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be jealous, you're right." He sighed, continuing, "I'm all over the place right now. And no, you're not my girlfriend, you can do whatever you want."

"It's just... kind of wrong." You stated, looking up at him through wet lashes. "It's fucked, actually."

"What, us?" He asked, and you nodded, a frown adorning your tear stained face. He sighed and nodded too. "I know. I want you so bad, Y/N. I think you know that by now."

Your heart sank a little. You knew where this was going.

"But I'm your professor," he swallowed thickly, pausing before continuing, "we shouldn't have gotten into this. It's not fair for me to mess with your emotions."

"No, don't say that," you pleaded, grabbing his hands in yours. "I'll drop out of your class, just, please. Don't."

He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip in thought. Your eyes scanned his face, worried. You prayed he wouldn't end it. You wouldn't be able to handle it, you got attached easily and god, were you falling for him.

"We'll make it work."

teehee that started going where i didn't want it so i had to think of something fast. maybe only 1 or 2 more chapters left xx

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #matt stone smut #professor!au #professor!matt stone

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