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quin-ns · 5 months

Text

Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory

Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will

A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3

hunger games masterlist

You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.

No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.

Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.

Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.

It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.

All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.

“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.

They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.

“Who?”

Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.

“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”

She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.

His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.

Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.

Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.

“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”

Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?

Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.

As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.

You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.

It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.

He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.

His heart skipped a beat.

“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.

His heart started again.

“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”

“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”

The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.

“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.

Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.

“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”

It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.

“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”

You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.

“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.

His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.

At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.

“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”

Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”

The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.

“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.

Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.

“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.

This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.

He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.

He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.

When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”

Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.

You knew about his friends?

“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.

You nodded and hummed.

“Well, what are your qualifications?”

“Excuse me?”

“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”

“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”

Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?

“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”

“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”

“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.

None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.

He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.

Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.

Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.

Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.

“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.

Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.

“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”

Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”

Keeping up appearances.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.

“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.

Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”

Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.

All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.

Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”

“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”

With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.

“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”

Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.

“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.

“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.

Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.

Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.

He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—

Suddenly, your watch began to beep.

“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.

Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.

He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.

The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.

The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.

While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.

There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.

Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.

Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.

He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.

With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.

Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.

“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.

Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.

He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.

When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.

Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.

You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.

“How do you think you did?”

Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”

“Not perfect, but I passed.”

Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.

“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.

“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.

“And did you?”

She gave Sejanus a look.

“Yes, of course.”

The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.

One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.

Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.

Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.

The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.

You pressed your lips together before speaking.

“Do you think you did alright?”

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”

You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”

“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.

The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.

“Maybe you can.”

The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.

Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.

“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”

“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”

“That’s not something I need right now.”

“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.

More time passed. The door opened again.

“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”

As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.

Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.

Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.

“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.

The comment made him falter.

“Best in the class,” he divulged.

You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”

The door opened.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”

“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.

“Good luck.”

Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.

Or, how well he’d done for you.

Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.

“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.

“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”

“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”

Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.

Or, he could always lie.

“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”

“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”

“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“

“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.

He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.

A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.

“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”

You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.

“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”

The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.

Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.

You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.

“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”

The corners of his lips twitched down.

“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”

You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.

“I think we’re done.”

Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”

The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.

Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.

Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.

It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?

“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”

You blinked. You didn’t believe him.

For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.

“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.

Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.

The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.

“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”

Your brows arched up, questioning him.

“That was supposed to be an apology?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”

“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”

Coriolanus frowned.

“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”

You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.

That frustrated him further.

In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.

“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.

Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.

“Get your hands off me.”

“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”

You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.

“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”

He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.

If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.

He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.

Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.

Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.

Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.

He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.

“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”

“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.

“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”

Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.

“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.

“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.

“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”

“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”

Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.

Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.

It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.

In this case, what he’d done.

Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.

Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.

What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.

The power stirred something within him.

One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?

Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?

He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.

“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”

He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.

“Why are you doing this?”

He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.

Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.

He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.

“I don’t know.”

To him, it was the truth.

The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.

“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”

You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.

His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.

Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.

He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?

He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.

He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.

Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.

Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.

Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.

A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.

Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.

“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”

He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.

A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.

He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.

Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.

You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.

Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.

You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.

Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Forgive me,” he requested softly.

You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.

He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?

You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.

You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.

His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.

You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.

“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”

“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.

Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.

Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.

“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.

A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.

“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.

You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.

Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.

You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.

If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.

“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”

At that moment, it was true.

Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.

Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.

“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.

You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.

Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.

There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.

“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.

It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.

“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.

“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”

His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.

“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #quin-ns writing

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piplupod · 1 year

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i made the dire mistake of looking up a term that i saw in someone's DNI and finding. an entire... "community" of people who are ... uh. well there is something deeply deeply not okay with them oh my fucking god, i feel nauseous.

#its uh. ppl who support and are into c*nsens*al in*est #I COULD'VE BEEN SO MUCH FUCKING HAPPIER NOT KNOWING THESE PEOPLE EXIST JESUS CHRIST THERES SOME NASTY SHIT IN THAT TAG #I HATE IT HERE #i hate learning new things sometimes! much happier to just stay under my rock and block out how many fucking nasty ppl there are out there #LIKE FINE. IF ITS CONSENSUAL. I GUESS. BUT LIKE. AAAAAAA NO #i dont know. this is going to be something my brain is going to fixate on figuring out the morals and ethics of and make me miserable #god i hate this i hate finding new shit like this and then knowing my brain is going to ruminate on it and figure out the ''right'' thing #even though there is no correct opinion probably. OR MAYBE THERE IS IDK #i need... to get evaluated for OCD because this shit is what makes me have the worst time #my brain fucking hates me and will tear me to pieces trying to figure out the right way to think about smth #and if smth is actually bad or good even if it is a neutral thing #god. i am not looking forward to the next couple days lmao #actually an OCD diagnosis probably wouldnt even do anything for me lol its not like i can get therapy for it (no therapists available)#and i dont think meds help with it so like. fuck me i guess hdsgjkl it might not even be ocd anyways #incest tw #pippen needs 2nd breakfast

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makoodles · 3 months

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ミ stay for something

🍓 pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, ex-boyfriend!gaz, unprotected vaginal sex, lack of communication, jealousy, 'just the tip' trope, sex with feelings

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

You hate wasting a Friday night on a first date, but you had genuinely high hopes for this one. You had made such an effort, too; pretty sparkly eyeshadow, strawberry-flavoured lipgloss, a new little black dress.

You look good. You feel good.

It’s just a shame that the guy is a bit of a moron.

He talks about himself a lot over dinner. Like, so much. You sit and smile and pretend to listen, your gaze wandering, and wonder if he’s going to ask any questions about you. He does (eventually), but they’re short and perfunctory and he seems to just take your answers and use them as a springboard into his next topic of discussion.

It’s a little tedious, but hey. First dates usually are. You weather it, your polite smile turning a little stiff as you sip your wine. Truthfully, you have ulterior motives here.

You’re not proud of it, but you don’t think you can handle the dry spell you’re going through anymore. You crave touch, affection, some kind of connection. You’re okay with being single, but god you’re so hungry for intimacy that it’s led to you agreeing to a date with a guy that you honestly wouldn’t have normally been into just for the chance of getting some action.

Ben is a nice enough guy, and he’s certainly good looking; neatly groomed hair, straight white teeth, a nice physique. He’s in good shape, though you can’t help but subconsciously compare him to—

No, you think sternly to yourself, Don’t do that.

When he leans into you at the end of the date and asks in a low, sultry voice if you want to continue the night with him, you agree a little breathlessly. God, it’s been a long time since you were touched.

Your place is closer, and you can’t help but feel a little illicit thrill as you lead Ben back. You never usually bring guys back to yours, especially not on the first date, but you’ll be the first to admit that you’re needy tonight.

The weather is getting colder as winter creeps its icy fingers through the air, but you’re wrapped tight in your coat and kept nice and warm as Ben wraps an arm around your waist, kissing heatedly at your neck as you try to open your door.

You giggle, the wine from dinner making you all loose and happy and eager. You tilt your head to give him more of your throat, and he eagerly takes the opportunity to introduce teeth and tongue as he kisses the line of your neck. You fumble with the key, clumsy as your body heats up.

When you finally manage to turn the key and get the stupid door open, Ben grabs you by the hips and spins you around so that he can pull you into a proper kiss. The guy might have been a dull conversationalist, but you’re delighted to find that he’s a good kisser.

The two of you stumble through the door, your arms locked around his neck as he holds you by the waist. It’s a little embarrassing how eager you are for a guy that you really aren’t even all that into, but you guess that’s just where desperation has gotten you.

“Shit,” Ben hisses when you nip at his lip. “Fuck, you’re so hot. C’mere, take this off.”

He starts tugging at your coat, and you pull back just enough to shrug it off, letting it drop to the floor. He lets out a throaty sound of appreciation, before grabbing at your waist again and leaning in to trail another set of hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

You tilt your head back, thunking lightly against the wall, and your eyelids flutter at the nipping kisses along your sensitive skin.

“Oh, god…” You breathe, blinking your eyes open again.

But then… you pause. For the first time, you notice that the lights in your entryway are on. Why are they on? You hadn’t turned them on when you came in, and you know that they weren’t on when you had left.

Ben is still groping eagerly at your hips, one hand reaching around to squeeze at your ass, but now you’re distracted, on alert. Your eyes dart around, and fall on a pair of Adidas Superstars set neatly by the front door, and a big puffer coat that’s been hung up on the hook in the hall.

Oh no. No fucking way.

As if to confirm the path your thoughts had just taken, your eyes catch on a figure in the doorway to the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe. Just watching.

A scream catches in your throat, and you grab Ben by the shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He doesn’t seem to understand, because he just keeps squeezing at your ass, pulling your hips closer so that he can slot between your legs and grind against you.

The brief spark of arousal that shoots through you when he grinds his hard-on into the seam of your cunt through your underwear is significantly dampened by the awareness that someone is already in your home, watching you, and you already know who it is.

“Hey, baby,” Kyle fucking Garrick says, lifting a mug patterned with little cartoon cats to his mouth. “Had a nice night out?”

“Jesus Christ–” You hiss, shoving at Ben’s chest. This time, the push isn’t needed, because Ben has rocketed up straight at the sound of another man’s voice in your house calling you ‘baby’.

“What the–” Ben starts to say, his brow furrowing into a bewildered frown when he catches sight of Gaz standing in the doorway watching you.

“Kyle, what are you doing here?” You snap, mortified. You grab at the bottom of your short little dress, pulling roughly at it to try and make sure you’re not flashing anyone.

Gaz watches you, amusement shining in his dark eyes. He’s not even trying to hide the way his gaze is drawn to your legs, lingering where your dress has ridden up your thighs. He sips his tea, a poor attempt at concealing his smirk.

“Home from deployment earlier than expected, love.” He says, calm and casual as if he hasn’t just broken into your goddamn house to destroy any hope you had of getting railed that night. “No time to find accommodation. You don’t mind, eh?”

Ben’s head is swinging between the two of you, his expression blank as he tries to work out just what exactly is happening. He’s straightened up entirely, the presence of Gaz obviously putting him on edge. You can’t blame him for his confusion; Gaz is currently looking at you like he wants to fucking eat you alive, and you’re beginning to get hot and flustered under his stare.

“Are you–” Ben starts, his head still on a swivel as though he can’t decide who to address. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Gaz doesn’t even bother to reply at once. He sips at his tea, and tilts his head as he lets his eyes wander over Ben lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s all too impressed by what he sees, though he’s smirking as though he’s amused.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick.” He says at last, with a nod.

You huff. You know what he’s doing – he never introduces himself by his rank unless he’s trying to make a point.

Ben goes stiff. He’s still pressed against you, and you can feel every ounce of tension down the line of your body. It seems like he’s just now clocking Gaz as a proper threat, and you take a breath as you realise that he’s about to split and leave you here.

And sure enough–

“I– Listen, I don’t know what’s.. what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Ben says, finally pushing himself away from you. He’s holding his hands up by his shoulders as though he’s being held at gunpoint, and you roll your eyes impatiently at his dramatics.

“No trouble, mate.” Gaz says, his voice still cheerfully amiable. “Door’s behind you.”

“Gaz–” You hiss, incensed, but it’s pointless.

Ben is already scrambling to open the door, heedless of the way you grasp onto his coat in protest. You sigh heavily as he tumbles out into the cold night, and the door slams shut behind him so loud it makes your head hurt.

You stand alone in your entryway, shivering a little in your tiny black dress and heels from the icy breeze that was let in from Ben’s escape. Your jaw is clenched tight, and you take a deep, deep breath as you turn to face your ex-boyfriend.

Gaz is still watching you, his deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath his long dark lashes. You try hard to ignore his expression, which is unmistakably hungry.

“You look good, baby.” He says, staring pointedly at the way your breasts are all pushed up in your tight dress.

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble, teaching down to unbuckle your delicate heels. You cast them aside and kick them over so they’re laying beside Gaz’s runners.

Gaz just snickers, turning to follow after you when you march your way to the kitchen. Irritation is burning hot in your veins, your lips pursed as you struggle to bite your tongue. It’s so fucking typical that the exact night you try to have some cheap, meaningless sex with some stranger, Gaz has decided to land right into your home. It’s like he has a fucking radar for when you’re about to get laid.

“You could have gotten a hotel.” You snap over your shoulder as you make your way to the kettle. It’s already hot, but you flick the switch again anyway.

“Nah. They’re all booked out. Busy season, you know.”

God, he’s so full of shit. You both know he never even considered staying anywhere other than with you, just like the last few times.

Still, you persevere.

“You could have stayed with one of the guys.” You say, turning around and folding your arms over your chest.

Gaz glances down, and you realise that you’ve inadvertently pushed your breasts together and up. You hastily drop your arms again, and settle instead for planting your hands on your hips.

“Could have,” He admits, leaning against your kitchen table in a way that’s infuriatingly casual. “But they never offered.”

“Neither did I–!”

Gaz doesn’t even seem to hear you. He just steps towards you, reaching to grab an empty mug from the cupboard above your head. The movement brings him so close to you, close enough that your next inhale is scented with his fresh-sweet cologne, the one you always loved, and you find your eyelids fluttering as your muscles relax without your permission. He smells so familiar, so comforting. You hate it.

“Go get changed,” He murmurs, keeping his voice low like he knows the moment is delicate. “We’ll watch a movie.”

You’d love to get fired up, to shove him or curse at him, but it’s all you can do to find the strength to step away from him instead of melting into him. You’re pretty sure he deserves an ass-kicking for this stunt of this, but you decide to pick your battles. Or at least, to postpone them.

You waver another moment, debating over whether you should try to get the last say, but Gaz has already turned away to continue making the cup of tea that you had started. Recognising that the moment has passed, you huff a sigh and march out of the kitchen, making your way to your bedroom.

It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get out your dress – it might look good, but there’s an inordinate sense of relief when you finally tug it over your head and feel as though you can breathe unimpeded again. You unclip your bra and toss it aside, rolling your shoulders and sighing as your breasts are freed.

Once you're dressed again in a worn-out massive t-shirt that drowns your body and some loose sweatpants, looking decidedly unsexy, you pad to your bathroom and start washing your makeup off. Now that you’re alone, that disappointment and frustration is settling in properly. Ben might have been boring, but if his kissing was anything to judge by, you might actually have had a perfectly enjoyable night with him.

Bare-faced and dressed for lounging in bed, you trudge back downstairs to your ex-boyfriend. It’s far from the way you wanted to end your night, but you’ve resigned yourself to your fate. You can hear the muffled sounds from the television as you make your way downstairs, and you redirect yourself towards your small sitting room.

Gaz is sat sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide as he makes himself comfortable in your home. Something twists in your stomach at how comfy he looks, as though he belongs there. He looks around when you walk in, though your footsteps are quiet and muffled by your fluffy socks.

You look far from sexy right now in your ugly old loungewear and bare face, but Gaz brightens up at the sight of you.

“There she is.” He crows, though there’s something soft in his gaze that you can hardly face. “C’mon, love. Want to pick what we’re watching?”

You just look at him tiredly. He’s as handsome as ever; the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. He must have come straight here once he’d gotten back from deployment because his eyes are dark and exhausted and stubble is a little more overgrown than usual. You hate that he’s able to come into your space like this so easily – like he’s never left.

“Gaz–” You start to say, but you’re cut off when he reaches for your hand.

He tugs you towards him, and you put a knee hastily up on the couch to prevent yourself from falling flat into his lap.

“Shhh, c’mon. Just sit with me.” He murmurs, looking up at you with those damn pretty eyes.

You waver, but then you turn your head to the side and catch sight of the second cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. Gaz has made it just how you like it, and in your favourite mug too. You crumble almost instantly.

“Stick to your side of the couch.” You grumble, before dropping yourself down heavily onto the sofa next to him.

Gaz hums, and you can already tell that he has no intention of following that order. His arm is already sprawled over the back of the couch; it’s not touching you, but you have no doubt that he’ll try to before the end of the night.

He sticks on some stupid movie on Netflix. You don’t pay attention. It’s a rom-com, which is typical. He always pretends he chooses the sappy romantic films for your benefit, but you’re not fooled. You see the way he watches them with avid interest, the way his toes curl in his socks when the big love confession scene comes on screen. It’s always been something that you’re impossibly fond of.

The two of you are silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Part of you wishes that it was awkward – it would be easier, you think. But he makes it so simple, sitting with him like this as the cheesy film plays in the background. You’re still a little tipsy from the drinks you’d had at dinner, and you melt into the couch beside him a little quicker than you think you would have otherwise.

“You ruined my night, you know.” You say at last, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. You glance away hastily again, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Nah,” He says, and you feel his arm dip down a little. He’s cupping your shoulders now, and you should probably move away, but you don’t. “If anything, I saved you from having a long, disappointing night with some tosser you agreed to pity-date. He didn’t exactly look like your type, darling.”

“He was a perfectly nice guy.” You bite out, crossing your arms defensively over your belly in your big t-shirt.

“Nice guys don’t end the first date by groping your ass and humping you up against your wall in your own house.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken you’d say he sounds a little bitter.

You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s sitting up, watching you closely and leaning just slightly towards you. He’s so intense about the way he’s looking at you, his arm dipping low so that he’s holding you properly.

“Stop it.” You say. It hardly even sounds like a proper protest. You’re so tired, still a little floaty from the wine you’d had at dinner, and desperately disappointed by the lack of sexual satisfaction you had been hoping for.

There’s a pause, and then Gaz gives a small shrug. He pulls his arm back to give you space, but he still has that stupid smirk on his face. You can’t even be angry about the cockiness of his expression when his eyes are that soft though.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “I’m not being fair, am I?”

“No,” You say petulantly. “You’re not.”

He huffs a noise that’s almost a laugh, only he manages to stifle it so that it comes out as a cough instead.

“Mm. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your big date night, especially when you got done up so pretty for it,” He murmurs, his voice low and sweet as honey trickling down your spine. “Let me make up for it. Come on, get over here.”

You hesitate, but Gaz isn’t really giving you an option. He begins to shift, one of his strong muscled arms looping around your waist as he pulls you into him. It takes you a long moment to realise what it is that he’s trying to do. He lays back on the couch and pulls you with him, encouraging you to pull your legs up onto the sofa so that the two of you are laying on your sides, with Gaz spooned up against your back.

It’s definitely a bad idea to cuddle with him on the couch like this. You’re trying to set boundaries, to make it clear that you’re just friends (if you can even call it that) after your breakup. And yet… you don’t offer any sort of protest at all.

“Relax,” Gaz sighs from behind you, and you feel his nose nuzzle against the back of your neck. “You love cuddling.”

You roll your eyes, turning your head slightly so he can see the unimpressed expression on your face.

“This isn’t enough to make up for being such a dick.” You grumble. Despite your griping, you don’t actually make any attempt to get out of his arms.

He was right, after all. You do love cuddling. It was your favourite thing to do when you were together.

But you’re not together anymore, and it’s hard to ignore the gnawing guilt that you’re letting this grow into something that should be avoided instead of nipping it in the bud. You and Gaz had broken up months ago, and it was a perfectly amicable split. You can’t even say that he was at fault for any of it; the strain of the long distance part of your relationship while he was on deployment just grew too much for you, the space his absence left filling with brambled loneliness that pricked incessantly at you. You had known what you were getting into with this relationship with him, and yet when it came down to it you got too greedy, wanting more of him than he was able to give.

Tonight was a moment of weakness for you, and though your hopes for sex may have been thwarted, you can’t turn down the soft familiar intimacy of Gaz’s strong body cradling you close against him.

Maybe it’s the wine you had at dinner, but you find your muscles relaxing a little as one of Gaz’s arms loops around your waist, his big hand coming to rest across your belly.

“Mm. I’m being selfish, love.” He murmurs, and you fight a shiver as his warm breath ghosts over the delicate shell of your ear. “This is more for me than for you.”

You’re not altogether sure that’s true. It’s certainly doing an awful lot for you right now. Gaz is in just a t-shirt, the muscles of his biceps bunching up under his bare skin as he tries to subtly nudge you closer to him.

You’ve missed being all wrapped up in the warm embrace of him; he cuddles with his whole body, the front of his thighs all pressed against the back of yours, his strong chest moulding to your back as his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. You always feel so safe when he holds you like this, like he’s blocking out the rest of the world for you. You can only guess he feels the same – he holds you that much tighter every time he gets back home from his missions.

You grumble quietly, but soon settle down. The repetitive stroking motion of his thumb over your hip is more soothing than it should be. You take deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it, because all you can smell is Gaz and his citrusy sweet aftershave and you just want to drown in it.

“You can’t keep doing this.” You mumble, though all the fight has gone out of you. “It’s not… helpful.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Gaz shifts behind you. His arm tightens around your waist almost imperceptibly, as though he thinks you’re going to push him away. But you’re being selfish now too, comfortably wrapped up against his chest.

“We said we’d stay friends,” He says at last, and he’s so close that you can feel his lips move against the back of your neck as he speaks. “Nothin’ wrong with some platonic cuddling. You should see how close me an’ Soap have had to cuddle to conserve heat when we’re out on the field.”

You huff a small laugh, which is obviously what he had been hoping for. Platonic cuddling. This certainly doesn’t feel platonic, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’ve been craving this kind of closeness for months now, so you just let yourself reluctantly enjoy it. It would have been so much easier if you were able to enjoy it with Ben, with someone who meant nothing to you and wouldn’t have brought with him such a complicated web of feelings and history, but there’s a real sense of comfort in the familiarity of Gaz’s presence.

The film Gaz had chosen to stick on is a stupid one. It’s half action, half love story, with a strong rugged hero and a too-beautiful love-interest whose main role seems to be throwing out quips for comedic relief. You’ve seen a hundred versions of this plot play out in other films, though Gaz is predictably glued to the screen. He’s always loved these stupid films.

You’re comfortable enough that you fall into a light doze, uninterested in the television as you relish the heat from Gaz’s chest. He’s like a fucking human radiator, so hot that you can feel a thin dew of sweat begin to break out along your spine. It chases away the chill of the night and makes you so sleepy.

You’re almost asleep when movement from behind you jolts you back to wakefulness. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Then Gaz moves again, and this time it’s unmistakable.

Gaz is hard, the thick ridge of him impossible to miss as he presses against your ass. You’re awake instantly, the slight tipsiness from dinner vanishing into thin air. You’re on high alert, eyes darting back to the television to see what the fuck has aroused him, but there’s nothing of note happening onscreen. It’s just a conversation between characters, exposition setting up the next stage of the plot.

“Gaz,” You say, and your voice comes out louder than you had intended. “Stop humping my ass.”

You’re half-expecting him to deny it, but he just huffs a quiet snort, his nose nuzzling against the back of your neck.

“Sorry, love.” He says, though he doesn’t sound sorry in the least. “Can’t help it. Missed you loads.”

You can feel his cock even through the layers of your clothing, and you swallow hard. God, you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him, though it doesn’t seem like the right time to admit it. How are you ever supposed to get over each other if he keeps coming to stay with you every time he gets back from wherever in God’s name he’s been, when he holds you so sweetly and talks to you like you’re still his girl?

His hips rock into you in a movement that’s almost imperceptible, except you’re waiting for it. His hands are gripping your waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh there. He’s always enjoyed the way your body yields to him, so much softer than the hard planes of muscle that make up his own, and it’s no surprise that he goes straight back to holding onto his favourite parts of you even as he ruts against your ass.

“Jesus, Gaz–” You start to complain, but your voice is a little too breathy to be convincingly angry.

“Stop that,” He murmurs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck. “You never call me that.”

That is true – after the breakup, calling him Kyle just seemed too intimate. It’s a name that usually falls from your lips with care, in soft whispers made for dark rooms and quiet moments. His callsign offers distance, reminds you both that what you had is in the past. Or that it should be in the past, at least.

“Kyle,” You concede tiredly. “You dickhead.”

He just hums. He knows you well enough to know that you’re not really angry; you’re not even attempting to move away from him, though you know you should. The film is mostly forgotten in the background, though you’re vaguely aware that the two characters onscreen have now progressed to confessing their love before the big final battle. You just sigh; this little romantic film moment is only going to encourage Gaz even more.

Yet still, you don’t move.

The way he’s grinding his thick cock against the swell of your ass is making your blood run hot. The pressure every time his hips roll lightly against you and the way that he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back against him is making your brain all stupid and fuzzy. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way you shift, the way you allow your bum to brush back against him. It earns you a soft little grunt that’s mostly muffled by the way he’s mouthing at your throat.

Oh, it would be so easy to slip the sweatpants that separates the two of you down, to allow him to slide into you. A little woozily, you think it would feel like he was coming home.

But to actually have sex feels like too much of a commitment, too confusing a step to take when things between you two were already muddled and confused enough. You’re almost afraid to even turn around to glance over your shoulder at him, as though making eye contact might mean you’ll both wake up and stop.

Gaz’s cock has gotten even harder, filling out thickly as he slots against the clothed groove of your ass. He’s not even touching your pussy, and yet your knickers are slick and sticky. It’s embarrassing at your age to be laying on the couch, watching a movie and getting dry-humped like a fucking teenager, and yet your skin feels as though it’s been lit aflame.

Then rustling fabric breaks the silence, and Gaz shifts a little behind you in an odd motion as the insistent pressure on your ass is finally relieved. In its absence, you’re almost disappointed.

You tilt your head, just barely turning it, just enough to see that he’s just pulled out his cock.

“Kyle–”

“Sorry, baby,” He says again, panting against the side of your neck and making you shiver. “– ‘m just too hard, getting uncomfortable. Ignore it.”

Ignore it? You think, a little hysterically. The gentle rocking of his erection into your ass was one thing, but how the fuck are you supposed to ignore the fact that your ex is all pressed up against you, still holding you by the waist with one hand as the other fists at his cock.

You glance behind you and down before you can help yourself, your self-control as lacking as ever. Fuck. You’ve missed the sight of that. He has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, even if right now it’s flushed dark and angry and painful looking. Your mouth waters. He was obviously telling the truth when he said it was getting sore, and you feel a reluctant swell of sympathy.

“Been thinking of you for months, baby.” He murmurs, placing a wet, messy kiss on your throat. “I can’t even fucking cum properly when you’re not around, it’s not the fucking same. God, even missed the way you smell–”

As if to punctuate that, he presses his nose in your hair and inhales deeply. You know you smell like the sweet perfume you had sprayed earlier, your favourite one. You know from experience that it’s also Gaz’s favourite one. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.

“Why didn’t you fuck someone else then? Get it out of your system?” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, a little raw. It reveals more than you want to; you feel a little ill at the thought of Gaz with some faceless girl, holding her and making her laugh, her hands touching him like you do.

If Gaz picks up on the bite in your voice, he’s kind enough to ignore it. He just huffs a quick snort like the suggestion is ridiculous, his sloppy mouthing at your neck turning into a chaste affectionate kiss that feels totally at odds with the desperate motions of his hand pumping at his cock.

“Why would I do that when I had a girl waiting for me at home?” He asks, his voice so soft with you. “Never wanted anyone else.”

Your toes curl, guilt coiling in your stomach. You hate that you feel pleased that he’s waited for you, that he doesn’t want anyone else. You’re not being fair – it had been you who had broken it off, after all. He should be able to get with whoever he wants to. Conceivably, he is allowed to. Yet you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t have been sick to your stomach if he admitted that he had.

God, you feel like such a hypocrite. Here you are, admittedly all too happy that Gaz has stayed faithful to a relationship that isn’t even intact anymore, and there he is, having just witnessed you come home with a stranger’s hands all over you.

“We’re not together anymore.” You whisper, when what you want to say is I’m sorry.

“I know.” Gaz replies, and it sounds like For now.

It’s not a surprise when the hand on your waist slips around to your belly, and then lower again as it slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms. You try and fail to suppress the wet gasp that’s pulled from your throat when his long fingers coast over the front of your knickers, finding your clothed clit with unerring accuracy.

“Oh, lace, baby?” He says, his breath catching in his eagerness before realisation seems to set in. “Oh. This was for your little date, eh?”

The guilt again, gnawing in your chest. You arch your back, simultaneously shying away and crowding your ass back up against him. It’s mortifying, being caught with your fancy underwear beneath your baggy unflattering sweatpants by your ex-boyfriend and having him know without a shadow of a doubt that you intended them to be seen by someone else.

“I was–” You start to say breathily, but Gaz doesn’t let you finish.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know, I know. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you. Jesus, he didn’t even know what he fuckin’ had, ran like a coward–”

“Gaz–” You try again. You can’t help but feel as though you need to explain yourself, like the two of you should talk this through.

“You’re so soft, Jesus Christ.” He mutters, the side of his hand rubbing at the squishy flesh of your thighs as he strokes at your clit. “Were you always this soft?”

It sounds as though he’s trying to remember, desperate and wanting. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes as that familiar pleasure licks up your spine. He knows you so well, knows every part of you and exactly how to touch you, and you can hardly believe you ever entertained letting anyone else put their hands on you.

“I got a new body oil.” You breathe, distracted by his touch. “It’s– it’s vanilla scented.”

“Yeah,” He groans, and you shiver helplessly when you feel his tongue on your neck, licking a hot stripe up to your earlobe. “I can smell it.”

His index and middle fingers are so firm on either side of your clit, rolling circles around it without actually touching you properly. You sigh, back arching, but before you can actually enjoy it his hands are pulling away.

“Wait–” You gasp, your body crying out in protest as Gaz stops, pulling his hand back out of your pants.

Gaz just grunts, kisses your neck once more, then tugs your sweatpants down. You lift your hips up immediately, thoughtlessly, and then kick your sweats and knickers off impatiently. It’s a little embarrassing, especially when the cool air hits your slick, sticky thighs and you shiver.

“Oh god, fuck,” He groans, his plush lips dragging along the sensitive skin at the back of your neck. “You’ve ruined yourself, baby.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it’s true. The dry spell you’ve experienced since the breakup has been little more than a mild inconvenience for the most part, but now it feels like your body is charged like a live wire. It feels like you’ve never been touched before, and you squirm backwards in an attempt to get any kind of friction again.

“Kyle–” You start to complain, but you don’t get to finish because then Gaz is slotting his cock in between your thighs.

He groans, taking a breath as he shuffles his hips closer. His pretty, glistening cock is wedged between the soft pudge of your thighs, the head of it nudging against the wet folds of your cunt every time he twitches.

“Let me put the tip in, baby.” He says, his voice gruff and wanting in your ear. “Literally just the tip, that’s it, huh? It’s not like actual fucking, right?”

In this moment, you think you’d agree to anything to get his dick into you. You had been all kinds of wound up even before you had come home to find Gaz waiting for you, but it’s like your body had some kind of Pavlovian response to Gaz’s touch because now you’re practically panting for him.

He’s right, after all. It’s not really fucking. It means that you can maintain the flimsy thin pretence that this means nothing.

“Okay.” You manage to say, though it comes out humiliatingly breathy. “Yeah, okay, the tip–”

Gaz’s cock is pressing into you before you can even finish your sentence, bullying into the wet grasping tightness of your cunt and making you gasp.

You’ve gone long enough without getting laid that there’s a slight sting as he presses into you, but it’s overshadowed by the breathless relief. God, you’d forgotten how fucking good his dick felt inside you. He knows just how to use it too, and you wheeze slightly as he rocks an inch inside before pulling back again.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” Gaz moans throatily, the vibration of it rumbling right down your spine. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”

“Mph,” You manage to make a muffled sort of sound against the couch cushion your face is pressed against, your mouth hanging softly open as you pant for breath.

True to his word, Gaz just presses the first inch or so inside. You almost hold your breath, waiting for the rest to slide inside and split you open, but he doesn’t. He just rocks back and forth, just missing hitting the spot inside that makes your nerves sing.

You wish, stupidly, fervently, that just this once Gaz would go back on his word. That he’d abandon his promise to just stick that first inch of his cock inside, that he’d slam home and stretch you wide and let his cock brush against the nerves just a little deeper inside you. But that’s not Gaz’s style; you know he’s not going to give you any more unless you beg for it.

Gaz rocks his hips in teeny tiny movements, just enough to have you squirming in frustration. You’re so wet that you know he could slide deeper with ease if he only just tilted his hips right, but he remains doggedly steadfast in pumping just the barest inch into you, groaning with the effort it’s taking to stop himself plunging fully inside.

“Oh god,” He breathes, sounding wrecked in your ear. “You feel even better than I remember.”

You don’t know how he can even say that when he’s barely even inside you, but no matter how much you wiggle and squirm, he just won’t slide any deeper.

“You’re such an asshole.” You slur out against the fabric of the couch, your cheek squished against the cushions. Your chin is a little wet – are you drooling?

Infuriatingly, Gaz doesn’t even argue.

“Mm.” He grunts, kissing the curve of your neck. “What’d I do this time?”

The fact that he has the gall to ask only irritates you further. You let out a quiet, grumbling noise, but his hand grips at your hip and stops you from writhing.

“Just… just put the rest of it in.” You say, craning your neck to try and look at him.

Your eyes are wide and wet, pathetically teary. You’ve been craving intimacy like this for weeks now. Maybe longer, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever gotten from Gaz, and you wheeze as your body opens up under his touch. God, you don’t know how you thought anyone would ever be able to fuck you like Gaz does.

“Mm, you sure, baby?” He murmurs, nosing against the back of your skull. “Thought we were just cuddling.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You snap, your patience reaching the end of its tether.

He just laughs, a breathless sort of amused gasp, before snapping his hips forward in one sharp movement and seating his cock inside you. Though it’s what you had been demanding, the abruptness of it startles you and you yowl, your back arching.

“Sh, sh, shh, sorry, love.” Gaz pants, before sighing in wordless contentment as his broad chest curves around your back, his strong arm looping around your belly. “Oh, fuck. Missed this so much, you have no idea. I swear you were made for me, I couldn’t fit as well inside anyone else.”

“Just– just move.” You whine, a little plaintive. It’s humiliating how desperate you are, but there’s no turning back now. “Please, Kyle–”

Gaz pitches into movement instantly, as though he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just worried that you’re going to change your mind. His hips pull back then snap forward again, and again.

He’s so strong, his rhythm steady enough to rock you wildly back and forth on the lumpy couch cushions. You clutch at the fabric beneath you, gasping as his arm pulls you back and keeps you pinned against his hot, hard chest.

“Oh.” You breathe, tilting your head back with a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into you from behind, the two of you plastered together like sardines in the tiny can that is your sitting room couch.

This is just what you needed, you think a little wildly. God, you’ve been craving physical touch like this for months, since the last time you had seen Gaz. It’s galling to admit that any other man is a poor substitute, unable to fill the void that your ex-boyfriend has left in your life.

“Kyle,” You whine, searching for something. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but Gaz is as patient with you as ever.

He just hums, leaning in over your shoulder and pressing hot, hungry kisses along your jawline where it’s exposed as you lean your head back. The arm that’s been wrapped around your belly coasts lower, until his big lovely hand is pressed against your cunt. His fingers search for your clit and find it easily, confident and familiar enough with your body that he barely even has to try to make you feel good.

Gaz coos soothingly at you and rolls your clit between his fingers as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that lets him sink as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The living room is soon filled with wet slapping sounds from where Gaz is pounding into you from behind, the grunts and pants and moans that both of you make rapidly drowning out the stupid action sequence playing out on the television from the long forgotten film.

Unbelievably, you feel a sweet stirring in your lower belly already. It’s with a sense of tired resignation that you acknowledge you’re going to come on Gaz’s dick, despite your original intentions for the evening. Typical.

But he’s not going to last either, judging by the strained moans in your ear.

“Shit,” He curses, and then his teeth sink into the side of your neck. You shudder, the feeling of him sucking a harsh hickey into your throat sending electric sparks racing through your nerves.

You think, judging from the desperate edge to Gaz’s humping into you from behind, that Gaz has been yearning in your absence in the same way you have for him. You’re biting on your lip hard in an effort to stifle the plaintive, wanting little moans that are threatening to spill over, but your attempts at quieting yourself are mostly unsuccessful. It makes you feel a little crazy, but Gaz doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the evidence that you want him too only seems to encourage him.

Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck your hips back on Gaz’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the back of your neck. You clutch clumsily at the strong arm he has wrapped around your belly, crying out yourself as the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your toes curl as your head tips back, your skull neatly cradled in the space between Gaz’s head and the couch cushions as he peppers kisses along the side of your neck.

The wet slapping of your bodies colliding is obscene in the quiet of the room; the stupid film still playing does nothing to drown it out. Your body is as limp and relaxed as a doll, allowing him to fuck into you from behind in a frenzy. Right now, you can’t even recall why you ever would have tried to deny yourself this pleasure in the first place.

His hips clap against your ass, those wet sounds getting even louder and more obscene than ever. Gaz is viscerally pleased with the way your ass bounces every time he fucks into you, because he moans and picks up the pace as if he just wants to watch your glutes jiggle every time his hips slap against you.

That familiar ball of tension starts tightening in your abdomen, your body winding up for a long-awaited and much needed release. It’s so typical that this orgasm feels like it’s going to be a big one too, as though your body needed Gaz to be there to guide you through it in order to achieve proper satisfaction.

But then, in a move so infuriating you almost burst into tears, Gaz pulls out and leaves you high and dry.

“No!” You blurt, and it comes out almost as a wail. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, baby.” Gaz says a little breathlessly. “Need you to turn over. Want to see you.”

As soon as you realise that he’s not trying to stop and that he’s just trying to reposition you, you’re quick to roll over so that you’re facing him. It seems like that’s exactly what he wanted, because he grins wide and reaches for your hips, eagerly pulling you closer.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles, his eyes like warm caramelised honey as they track over your face.

You’re pretty sure he’s full of shit; you’re panting like you’ve run a marathon, you’re sweaty, your hair is dishevelled, and you’re still wearing the ugly sweatshirt you had put on earlier. Yet, even still, Gaz’s genuine little compliment has your heart flipping in your ribcage.

You can’t help but think that you and Gaz are like feral little animals right now. You can barely keep your hands off each other; now that you’ve rolled over to face him, his hands are roaming over your hips and ass like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you by touch alone.

Embarrassingly, you’re no better – you lunge forward to kiss him, taking advantage of your new position, and he kisses you back hungrily.

Lying sideways on the couch like this is cramped, but Gaz uses his hand on your ass to tug you closer. Then he reaches down, long fingers gripping at your thigh before he pulls it up so that your leg is hitched over his hip.

Oh no, You barely have time to think it before his cock is pressing into you again, the slide made easy this time. Too intimate!

The panicked thought is swiftly dispelled the moment Gaz starts moving again, because goddamn this position is so much better. It’s almost difficult to tell where Gaz ends and you begin, so intertwined are your bodies. Gaz barely even allows for an inch of space. He fucks into you almost as soon as he’s pulled back, making for a fast, frantic pace that barely even gives you a chance to breathe.

You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you rock your hips mindlessly into his rough, almost animalistic thrusts. Your leg hitched over his hip means that he’s grinding into you deep, deeper than you thought was possible.

The way the two of you are fucking feels a little bit unhinged, rutting and humping your bodies together in search of mutual pleasure. It should be clumsy and graceless, yet somehow it feels good, as though your body remembers exactly how good Gaz has always treated you, as though your whole being is having a Pavlovian response to his touch. Pleasure burns in your gut, tight and hot, and you moan stupidly as Gaz pounds into you.

“Oh god.” You say without meaning to. The sound of your voice shocks you; you sound wrecked, as though you’ve been fucking for hours. It would have been embarrassing to reveal just how affected you were if Gaz wasn’t also clearly just as eager for it.

“Yeah,” He says, a hybrid of a groan and a gasp muffled against your lips as he clutches at your ass and drives into you wildly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You are too, you realise wildly. You’re struck by how quickly you’ve both gotten to this point. This whole encounter has been frenzied and feverish, as though the poorly stifled desire between you had turned explosive.

Gaz kisses you again, and his teeth clack against yours slightly as he licks into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, and it sends a delicious throb of pleasure shooting through your belly. He’s acting so possessive that it’s making your head spin. It should definitely be sending warning bells ringing in your head, or red alarms flashing in your minds eye – it can’t be a good thing that your ex-boyfriend is currently fucking you on your couch like he’s trying to claim you. But you’re apparently a little stupid and very weak, and Gaz has always known how to fuck you dopey and thoughtless. Instead of worry, you get the edges of an orgasm beginning to fizz in your peripheral awareness.

Your pussy must flutter or tighten around him as that lovely sweet promise of release edges closer, because Gaz moans in anticipation and his eager thrusts take on an edge of purpose. You almost protest when he breaks off the kiss, but then you realise that he just wants to be able to focus on keeping his rhythm steady. It’s frenzied and hot, and you swear the air itself is crackling as he kisses sloppily at your neck and fucks you hard.

“Love you,” He slurs in your ear, breathless. “Love you so much, baby.”

His thrusts turn more shallow and far more forceful the closer he gets. Little moans and whines escape his lips between kisses, the sounds ratcheting up in intensity as the two of you rut together.

“Tell me you love me,” He pleads, “Please— tell me you fuckin’ love me, baby. I know you do. I know you—”

You shouldn’t say it. You can’t say it. Yet his cock is fucking you sloppy and stupid, and your mouth moves before you even register that you’re speaking.

“Love you too,” You whimper like a pathetic little idiot, revelling in the exquisite feeling of him grinding against your g-spot just right. It feels so good, you know you’re so, so close to orgasm.

The ache in your abdomen persists— you clench tightly around his cock, your body straining as the muscles in your core clench, trying so hard to push yourself closer to the orgasm you know is coming. You’re so close, so so close— it burns, aches, drives you mad. All you can do is mewl, wrapping your arms around his muscled shoulders as he pounds into you despite the awkward angle.

You can feel your clit throbbing, pulsing, your entire body trying so goddamn hard to climax that you feel like you’re about to cry. You’re burning beneath your skin and all you want to do is gnash your teeth into the elegant line of Gaz’s throat, to leave some kind of indelible mark on his lovely smooth skin.

“Please, please, please— yes, fuck— oh, Kyle,” Your words come out on the breath of an uneven gasp, stuttering with each movement of his hips, perfectly synchronized.

His voice is low and hot in your ear as he pants, “Let me come inside you, baby— let me, please— fuck.”

You should say no. Every logical part of you knows that you should tell him to pull out, and yet the wires are crossed when it comes to your actual response. Your leg tightens around his waist, heart seizing in protest at the idea of him pulling out.

“Yes.” You gasp, continuing your streak of impulsive decision-making. Your own hips twitch forward in weak little humps in an effort to fuck yourself onto his cock, your clit grinding against the dark curls at his pubic bone. “Yes, inside, please–”

Your breathy, eager permission seems to give him a burst of energy. He picks up the pace, his body curving into you as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. It feels as though your entire world has been narrowed down to Gaz, his broad shoulders blocking out your view of the rest of the room. You cling to him, breathless and messy as you whimper like a loser, your body trembling from the toe-curling zings of pleasure that keep shooting up your spine.

“Oh, oh.. Kyle, please–” You practically sob, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders. “Love you, love you, oh my god, I’m gonna come–”

Gaz grunts, obviously eager as his movements grow thoughtful and determined. He knows exactly what you want, what you need at this moment. His abdominal muscles tense and flex with every calculated, deliberate thrust. There is no way to escape the length of him moving hard and thick inside you – not that you want to escape so much as a second of it, of course.

“That’s my girl, always so fucking perfect.” He snarls as your body eagerly takes every dirty roll of his hips, palming at your thigh where it’s hitched over his hip. “Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve been dreaming of your cunt for fucking months, never wanted anything else–”

It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense, that those bizarre, lust-crazed possessive words are what drag you trembling, screaming over the crest of an orgasm so intense the walls of the room white out, each sweeping pulse leaving you unable to do anything but clench and shudder and arch beneath him.

Gaz fucks you like a damn machine; he gives you long, deep strokes over and over as you’re falling apart. Your body seizes around the hot flesh of Gaz’s cock, your mind going white as your cunt spasms, your hole clamping down and pulsing with every desperate, loud moan torn from your mouth.

You feel like a sloppy little slut, your hips jerking towards him instead of away even as your orgasm washes through you and leaves your body tender and oversensitive. It feels so damn good to feel your mind washing blank and clear, not a single thought taking hold.

When the toe-curling height of pleasure subsides, you find your nerves frayed and hyper-sensitive. A plaintive whine breaks out of your throat as Gaz keeps fucking you, beginning to thrust up frantically into your twitching pussy. Your body falls limp as Gaz bounces your pliable, warm body up and down his cock as he groans into your ear.

It’s like the rhythmic tightening of your drooling, creaming cunt has him losing his mind, because he grabs the meat of your hips and begins jerking your limp body back towards him. The slap slap slap! of the impact is so loud that every slap makes your breath catch.

“Fuck. I'm—” Your hands slap clumsily at his shoulders, reaching for anything to hold on to, but he doesn’t stop. "Kyle. Kyle—" It’s just your voice, hoarse, breathless, and Gaz bearing down on you, the sound of your bodies somehow growing sloppier, messier as he fucks you and it’s uncompromising, just skirting the edge of painfully overwhelming—

He breaks, shoulders trembling, head bowed into the curve of your neck as he lets out a long, desperate moan. It’s a drawn out, rough groan that is more sob than pleasure, and then you feel him inside you, spilling red hot and wet. Your own orgasm still isn’t fully finished, rolling leisurely through you in little aftershocks, your body still tightening and shivering, and it goes on and on and on.

He holds on to you throughout, as if he’s worried he’ll blow away into the wind without anchoring himself to you. His hips slow, but don’t fully stop. He rolls his hips into you slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world as he shivers in his come down. You blink, waiting for the colour to bleed back into your vision and for the ringing in your ears to stop, and for the first time all night you’re not thinking about anything at all.

“Please, Kyle.” You slur out stupidly. You have no idea what you’re even asking for; there’s just some vague, barely formed desperation floating around your painfully blank mind as you search for something.

“Mm.” Gaz hums. It feels like he’s everywhere, his broad chest filling up your sight and enveloping you. His hands roam over your body: the backs of your thighs, squeezing as his hands drift over your ass, up and down your back, your neck, his fingers catching around the thin strands of hair and the back of your neck, until finally he settles his fingers on your cheeks.

His palms stay there, just cupping your cheeks as the two of you struggle to regulate your breathing and regain your composure. That antsy sense of desperation eases a little when he leans in to nuzzle fondly at your face, dropping sweet little kisses along your cheeks and nose.

Gaz’s chest rumbles with a low, lovely laugh, his voice gravelly from his climax. “You’re overflowing, sweetheart.”

You let out a careless little sigh, before relaxing experimentally. You can feel a gush of warm seed begin to ooze out around Gaz’s cock, spilling out of your entrance and coating his balls. You wriggle lazily, cunt still pulsing as your wildly beating heart gradually slows to a lazy flutter.

You think you should probably be panicking now. You’ve just fucked your ex, told him you loved him, then let him come inside. With no condom. God, you’re stupid. But the wave of horror you’re expecting never comes. You feel too floaty to care; you suspect if it was anyone other than Gaz, the mortification would have knocked into you like a sledgehammer.

“You’re gonna get cum on the couch.” You complain, the words coming out clumsy on your tongue.

Gaz just snorts. He makes no effort to pull out, and you have no desire to push him away. The intimacy of your sweat-slick skin pressed together is enough to take your breath away, and it’s only further compounded by the sensation of his cock gradually softening inside you.

“I’ll get it cleaned, love.” He drawls lazily, leaning in to kiss your swollen lips. “Or pay for a new one. Whichever you want.”

When you kiss him back he sighs fondly, one thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You’re still limp in his arms, boneless and spent as you wriggle greedily into his arms. His cock is still lodged inside you, and you’re sure he must be getting uncomfortably sensitive but to your relief he just moans in quiet appreciation when you try to worm your way closer.

“You made a mess.” You mumble against his lips.

You’re being a little unfair, considering your own slick is coating your thighs and Gaz’s lower belly, but Gaz has always rolled with even the most unreasonable attitude you’ve thrown his way. So he just chuckles, and you feel a little insane as you wonder if anyone else would ever be as patient with you.

“Think we both did, doll.” He murmurs fondly. He leans in and catches your lips with his again, kissing you slowly with a lazy, lewdly open mouth. One hand curls against the nape of your neck, the other hand reaching up beneath your sweater and curling possessively against your left tit, sweeping over your sluggish, sated heartbeat.

You feel practically brainless after your orgasm, relaxed and loose in Gaz’s arms. There’s something to be said for how safe you feel with him, as much as you’d like to deny it, but reality is starting to slowly sink in.

You pull away from his mouth to try and collect yourself, unable to think when he’s kissing you like that.

“Fuck.” You breathe, closing your eyes with a sigh. It’s slow, but you’re finally starting to think again. “We shouldn’t– we should have used a condom.”

Gaz’s eyes are lidded with fond amusement as he watches you quietly. His hand kneads at your breast absent-mindedly, as though he’s forgotten that he’s groping at you.

“Don’t overthink it,” He murmurs, kissing your forehead again. “I saw your box of pills in the bathroom. And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you.”

You tremble a little at his admission, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel like you’re losing your mind. Gaz is the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, funny and sweet and always so caring. You love him, even if it kills you a little to admit it, and you don’t know how to respond to his admission that he’s been faithful to you during the long months you weren’t together.

Gaz misinterprets whatever expression is on your face, thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek again. “We can get you a morning-after pill, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You don’t bother correcting him. You’re not that fussed over the morning-after pill – you’re careful when it comes to your birth control, and Gaz had always cum inside you when you were together. The weight of his cock inside you is comforting almost, the wet slide of his cum dripping out of you makes you feel as though you’d never been apart in the first place. You wonder how you could ever have been thick enough to think that someone else could fill Gaz’s place in your life.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gaz’s lips twitch. “That pillock you brought home would’ve been such a disappointment, darling.”

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, exasperated.

“You don’t know that.” You grumble, though you don’t pull away. You’re still all curled up against his chest, skin still slick and sticky from rapidly cooling sweat, your leg still slung over Gaz’s hip to keep his now-soft cock nestled inside you.

“Sure I do.” He says, and that cocky arrogance that both drives you mad and makes you swoon is rearing its head. He reaches down, and his thick fingers roll over your much-too-sensitive clit. “She missed me, gorgeous. Don’t think she would have liked some strange tosser pounding away at her with no idea how to please her.”

The way he talks about your pussy as though it has its own thoughts and feelings has you rolling your eyes again, though your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To your immense irritation, you think he might have a point. You haven’t come that hard in months, not since the breakup.

“Oh, shut up.” You sigh tiredly.

He snickers, and then shifts. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s pulling his hips back preparing to pull out. Your brain stalls, and you wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders in protest. You’re not ready to feel the invasive, aching emptiness that will no doubt throb through your core as soon as he’s not filling you up.

“Stay.” You say, and it comes out as an embarrassingly breathy little plea.

Gaz goes practically limp, as though your hoarse request had taken the wind right out of him. You’re not expecting the way he brings both arms around your waist before rolling over onto his back, hauling you up to lay over his chest. His cock remains firmly lodged inside you, though the movement has resulted in his white creamy spend leaking out onto your inner thighs.

“Not going nowhere.” He mumbles, one hand stroking over your flank to soothe you. “I’m on leave for at least a month.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Gaz hums. He must sense that this is a delicate moment, because he doesn’t make any ribald jokes about having all month to fuck you like you’re expecting him to. He just presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering gently.

Usually, you’d probably be a little embarrassed by how clingy you’re being. You had been so damn determined not to fall into bed with Gaz after the breakup, but you’re so, so weak. His stupid honey brown eyes and gorgeous dimples and crooked grin is enough to send you to your knees. You rest your forehead against his chest as he holds you close; at least like this, you can’t see his stupid handsome face.

He’s obviously pleased with the way you’re snuggling into him, because his chest rumbles as he hums in satisfaction. He’s holding you tight like he thinks you’re going to slip away the moment he blinks.

“You okay?” He asks quietly.

You don’t answer immediately. There’s no way to brush this under the carpet, or to go back to pretending at detached disinterest. If you had wanted to play this off as just a bit of stress relief, then you should have rolled away from him the second he’d spilled inside of you rather than cuddling with him on the couch. There’s no way that you can claim that this was just a case of needing to get laid; you’re still clutching at him like a limpet, the two of you intertwined so tight that it’s difficult to tell when your limbs end and Gaz’s begin.

“I’m tired.” You sigh eventually, sidestepping the conversation that you know you’ll have to deal with eventually.

No doubt Gaz notices your not particularly subtle avoidance, but he doesn’t comment. He seems quite happy to indulge your every whim; he probably wants to avoid the this-was-a-mistake-and-we-need-to-maintain-boundaries conversation even more than you do.

“Let’s get you to bed then,” He murmurs, and then he surprises you by sitting up. You’re still laid out across his chest, which means that when he shimmies up into a sitting position, you end up sitting sprawled in his lap.

You’re still speared a little awkwardly on his soft cock, the sensation of him inside you making your eyelids flutter a little. You feel satisfied, your muscles still watery and weak, and you sigh a little mournfully when Gaz finally pulls his cock out of you. You ache, a deep throb that both stokes and settles you. It’s like a comfortable little reminder that Gaz was here, and that he left his mark on you.

You can feel the way he leans back just to get a glimpse of his spend trickling down the inside of your thigh. You pout and bury your face into his throat, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders still as you try to hide your sudden self-consciousness.

But Gaz isn’t interested in giving you a moment to hide. You feel the edge of his teeth ghost the shell of your ear before he speaks, just low enough to make you shiver.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says, and beneath his usual cocky countenance you hear the edge of a plea. “I’ll make up for ruining your date tonight. You can wear that little dress from earlier for me again.”

You feel exposed, stripped bare as you perch in Gaz’s lap. His hand strokes evenly over your spine, waiting patiently for your response.

“I want a fancy dinner.” You mumble, your fingers curling around his shoulders. “At a nice restaurant.”

You hear a shaky little exhale, and Gaz’s arms tighten around your waist. It strikes you that he’s relieved, and you feel your heart tremble in response. The knowledge that he wants you still is enough to have your own lungs seizing in response; you can’t quite bear to wonder if you’ve been wasting time for these past few months that you’ve been broken up.

“Whatever you want.” He says it like a prayer, tilting his head in search of your lips again.

The kiss is easy, the months that you’ve been apart dissolving into nothing. You’re a little too stubborn to give in entirely and beg for him back just yet though, but you doubt it matters. You’ve already admitted your weakness for him in the middle of shagging, and you’re not stupid enough to hope that he’s somehow forgotten it. You’ve been trying so hard to shove all those feelings down deep, but you’re not too surprised that they’ve all come bubbling out. He’s got a month of leave. You have no doubt that he’s going to use that time to change your mind. You find that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you might; you suspect that you can be swayed all too easily.

You peek up at him, only to come face to face with his sweet, hopeful deep brown eyes. He’s not pushing, but you can see the weight of desire and yearning in every inch of his face. No doubt it’s mirrored on your own. You don’t think you could ever look into his pretty face and deny him anything.

You hum, then whisper the only answer you could ever give.

“Yeah. Okay. It’s a date, then.”

#why was it so hard to find a cute pic of him with no big fuckin union jack splashed across him #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #cod smut #cod fic #kyle gaz garrick

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normansnt · 3 months

Text

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin adam #adam x reader #gay fanfiction

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beehop · 2 years

Text

the vhs version of gasoline is out of stock already at the small ass online kpop shop i usually use and it went in stock at 6:40 this morning (i had an email alert) and its not even 10:30 yet lmmaaoooo. good for key but!!!!

#the other shop i use which has more expensive shipping which is why i usually don't have it also doesn't have it in stock #but at least they have a restock date and i can actually purchase it!#if i had known this would happen i would have just preordered the go to stop doesn't do preorders though #i've NEVER had anything be sold out day of release?? go off key i guess #serves my ass right for getting out of bed so late i guess #anyway now i can get advice too i guess bc i've been wanting it and the go to stop has it out of stock #and they don't usually restock older things #using old loosely here they'll restock around release dates but after that they usually don't and its been out of stock a while #the other alternative is that i go into the city and physically visit the kpop store and hope they have it #which would be the quickest way to obtain said albums but heck they're expensive #even with this other shop where shipping is more i think it comes out less than if i get it in store #but by GOD is shipping expensive at this store its literally more than the 4 albums i have in cart hahahahaha #i don't mind paying for shipping it just bugs me when shipping is more than the product #a 5th album would probably be the tipping point where the shipping is now less than the albums #but tbh there isn't anything else i really want and buying albums just to buy albums isnt as satisfying as getting albums you actually want #i've written an essay in the tags again RIP to me #still haven't decided what to do lol #also please note that yes it is 10:45 by the time i posted this and that's because i spent a good 20 minutes clicking around kpop stores #and writing these tags #i just don't want to try a new store honestly i'd rather do one of the ones i trust (which is these two specific ones)#i know there are others out there but sigh

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barleyo · 8 months

Text

Love Machine.

Android! Leon Kennedy X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: I got this idea while listening to a song with the same title. This was my first time writing for Leon, I hope it isn't too clunky or too short! I am slowly coming out of my hiatus, so my writing skills are a bit rusty, I need you all to give me a little grace for the next few posts in case they aren't great LOL. Love you all so much, thanks for your support!

Part Two: Here

Wordcount: 2.4K

Tags: sex doll/living sex robot (?), sex toys, oral (fem receiving), reader is called things like "pretty girl", p in v, creampie (but not really because he's a sex doll??), unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play

“Welcome in, can I help you find anything?”

(Y/N) gave the cashier a polite smile and shook her head as she walked past him at the check-out desk, trying to be as non-awkward as possible, especially since she was the only customer in the small store at that time of night. It was an in and out trip, she tried to convince herself of that. She needed something small, just enough to get the job done.

Normally, she would’ve waited until the next day to run an errand like this, but days of stress had left her needy and frustrated, so when her trusty wand finally gave out on her mid-fun, she grabbed her car keys and headed out into the night.

Her eyes scanned the wall of toys in the back of the store. Pink and purple covered the shelves, vibrating toys and dildos being her main focus.

“Mini-vibe, bullet vibe,” she mumbled, squatting down to read the boxes on the lower shelves. “What’s even the difference–?”

She settled on a purple rabbit vibrator. Its packaging was the least indicative of its contents, and it was on the smaller side. Easy to hide.

“Will that be all?” the cashier asked, looking over the box.

“Yeah, that should be it.”

“You know,” he said, giving her a wide grin, “I can’t say I can suggest this one.” He held the box back out to her, waiting for her to take it. “We’ve gotten a lot of refunded purchases due to it.”

“Oh, shit, really?” (Y/N) took the box back, tucking it under her arm. “Okay, uh, I guess I should ask what the best option would be, then?”

The cashier gave a nod and waved her over, lifting the divider between behind the counter and the rest of the store. “Come with me to the back, we’ve got all the good stuff tucked away back there.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking about whether or not to follow him. She didn’t immediately catch any red flags in his behavior: he was polite enough, no major creep-vibes. (Y/N) finally walked past the open divider and followed him into the stock room.

“So, over here,” he said, waving his hand over a heavily stocked shelf, “is all the high-powered stuff. These over here have a high-customization level, lingerie over here, and over here ....”

The man continued to go over the ‘hidden’ options in the store, but (Y/N)’s eyes traveled over to a large, sheet-covered box.

“Hey, what’s that over there?” she asked, pointing at the box.

“Oh, that? That’s new, uhm, probably a little out of your comfort zone, though, he’s a little advanced.”

“He?”

The cashier sighed and stepped up to the box, gripping the corner of the sheet. “It’s—it’s a long story, but, here, have a look.”

He pulled the sheet down, dropping it to the cement floors of the room.

“What the fuck is that?!”

A blond man stood in the plain box, the only adornment on the cardboard being his name in bolded letters: Leon. His eyes were closed, his hands sat idly beside his sides, and his body stood bare before them both.

“His name is Leon, he’s a prototype for a new line of responsive sex dolls. I mean, most of the bugs are out of the system, he’s not faulty or anything.”

(Y/N) walked up to the box and scratched the cellophane covering, trying to get his attention. “Is he awake? Or on, I guess?”

“Nah, he has to be set up, there’s a manual in the box, I think,” the man replied, bending down to pick the sheet back up to throw over Leon’s box. Just as he began to shake the sheet off, clearing the residual dirt off of it, (Y/N) spoke again.

“How much for him?”

She mentally smacked herself for asking. There was no doubt he was expensive, hell, he probably wasn’t even up for sale.

“You want him?” He raised his eyebrow, looking the girl up and down, confusion painting his features.

“I– I don’t know, can I have him? How much?”

He crossed his arms for a moment, thinking. “He’s not for sale, per se, but– so, listen, okay?”

“Yeah?”

“You can have him for free, okay? But if you aren’t satisfied with him, you can’t bring him back here, you’re stuck with ‘em.” He held his hand out expectantly. “Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, taking his hand quickly, giving it a few affirming shakes.

The boxcutter in her hand worked quickly, slicing open the cellophane. (Y/N) bunched up the plastic and threw it to a random corner in her bedroom, turning back to face Leon. She gave him a testing poke, and when he didn’t respond she turned that poke into a gentle tapping on the side of his face.

“Leon?” The name felt like acid on her tongue, guilt already creeping through her. “Wake up.”

She dropped her hand from his face and guided it further down his chest. The synthetic skin felt real, almost in an uncanny way. He was warm to the touch, not plastic-y and cold like how she assumed other sex dolls felt.

“Come on, big boy.” she muttered, pulling Leon’s large, heavy body out of the box and placing him on his feet near her bed. “Where’s your–? Oh, got it.” (Y/N) snatched the instruction manual from the box. The print was foggy, and some words were horribly misspelled, but she flipped through the pages and located the directions page. She read the page to herself quietly. “I am Leon, your AI-powered male sex doll. The setup process of a Leon doll is extremely easy. To turn me on, just set my dial. After that, just sit back and let me love you for a little while!”

(Y/N) walked a small circle around him in search of his ‘on-switch.’ She found it right on the back of his neck, almost hidden by his swoop of blond hair. On the silver dial sat three options: Off, gentle, and rough. A hand rose and ticked the dial to gentle. She stepped away from him quickly after hitting the switch, nervous to see what would happen.

His eyes opened slowly, and a weak blue light beamed from them, scanning outwards before shutting off completely. A grin slowly spread across Leon’s all-too-real features as he powered on.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” he said, standing still in her room, only moving his head to face her. “Looks like you could use some company.”

“Uh, hello.” Her mouth was dry as she spoke, feeling like she made a bad decision the second he had snapped to life.

“Hm, why don’t you come closer to me? I don’t bite,” Leon paused before cheekily adding “unless you want me to.” He took her in his arms and let his eyes drift down her body. He eased her shirt over her head and tried to undo the clasps of her bra.

“What are you doing?” She tried to pull away but he held her in place.

“You have all your clothes, but I’m exposed over here. That’s not so fair, is it?” He looked down at his hardened length, ushering her to look down with him.

Her eyes widened a bit. “When did you even get hard–?”

“I’m always hard around pretty girls like you.” He slipped off her bra and groped her breasts with his large, somewhat calloused hands. “Look at these, baby. You have pretty tits, and a pretty face, huh?”

A hum left her throat as she felt his head dip down and take one of her swollen nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the bud, latching on to properly suck it after a few teasing moments. She ran her hands through his hair and gripped onto it tightly, whining at the feeling of his mouth popping off of her tit.

“Bet you’re getting wet from this, aren’t you?” His voice was airy and muffled while he spoke. He left open mouthed licks over her pebbled nipples, grazing over them with his tongue’s warmth.

She gave a weak nod in return.

“Mm, maybe I should take care of that,” he chuckled lightly and lowered himself to his knees. “Gonna let me take these off you?” He tugged at the waistband of her shorts.

“G’head,” (Y/N) said, feeling her thighs rub against each other impatiently.

He pulled them down to her ankles and she stepped out of them, leaving her in just her panties. She shuddered at the feeling of his tongue darting across the cotton covering her wet center. Again, Leon laughed a bit at her reaction and licked a heavier stripe against the fabric. When he was rewarded with a gasp from her open mouth, he pulled the panties to the side and pressed his tongue at her slit.

“F–Fuck, that feels good,” she whined, hand still messily buried in his hair.

Leon kept his eyes on her the whole time, not letting a moment pass where his blue irises weren’t piercing hers.

His tongue dipped out of her entrance and moved up to her clit. He fidgeted with it, trying to see which motion worked best on her, and settled on a circular movement. The longer he sat slotted between her thighs, her knees thrown over his shoulders, the more frequently he felt her cunt jump from pleasure. He placed his tongue hard on her clit, giving it rough, pressured licks.

“Almost there, I’m close,” (Y/N) said, feeling a coil form in her stomach. She had felt this with other toys, but by far, Leon was the best at the job. “Don’t stop,” she hummed, voice catching in her throat while he moved his head side to side, dragging his mouth sloppily over her cunt.

A string of profanities escaped her mouth when she felt her orgasm hit. A sputtering wave of warmth flushed through her body, her pussy clenching around nothing.

“That’s it, good job,” Leon cooed. He held his hand up to her face expectantly. “Spit.”

Her mind already felt melted, like it could’ve oozed out of her brain at any minute. She mindlessly complied with him, spitting onto his lengthy fingers.

“Ah–! S’too much, Leon.”

“No, no, you can take it. I’ll be gentle, I know you want another one,” he said with a slightly mocking tone. “Greedy girl needs something to fill her up.” Plunging his fingers into her pussy, he groaned at the feeling of her slick walls still fluttering. “Y’haven’t even recovered from the first one, but I’m gonna give you another one,” he said, curling his fingers, “gonna be twice as strong.”

“Fuck, it’s too much,” (Y/N) knew her sobs of pleasure were pathetic sounding, but she couldn’t muster anything else up as she tried to push his wrist down and away, not being able to stand the feeling of his two fingers prodding at her most sensitive spot.

“Don’t fight it,” he warned, “not when you’re so close. Yeah, I feel you getting all tight on me. Mm, you’re gonna love how it feels, it only gets better from here, pretty girl.”

Leon became more aggressive with his movement, moving his whole arm as his fingers jammed in and out of her. (Y/N) was lost in her ecstasy. Her hands shook and flew aimlessly before taking purchase of Leon’s shoulders and holding onto them, nails digging into the skin.

Her second release, as promised, was much stronger. Her legs clamped around him, her moans came out in long, shaky intervals, and her brain was mush. She couldn’t force herself to focus on anything but the cum dripping out of her cunt and down Leon’s fingers and forearm. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling even the dim light of her bedroom to be too much for her now fucked-out, slutty head to handle.

She hardly noticed when he had placed on her back in the bed with her legs spread. Not until he guided his cock across her folds, tapping the head of it against her swollen, abused clit.

“More?” she asked, voice breaking and weak. “Can’t take it ‘nymore.”

“C’mon, sweet thing, you can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more?” He whispered into her ear, slowly pushing into her, holding himself back.

“Jus’ one? No more after that?”

“Mhm, just one.” Leon bottomed out and stretched her walls with his girth. The tip of his cock gave sweet, shallow kisses to her cervix’s tip, gently pressing into it with each thrust. His hips rocked into her, but he felt his dick being forced out of her walls, pushed out of her heat. “Even after all that, still tight f’me.” He slid back in, rougher this time, trying to keep himself inside. “Need somethin’ to stretch you out, baby. Good thing y’got me now.”

His hands were placed under her knees, scooping and holding them apart while he fucked her. He slowly transitioned from fucking and burrying his cock into her, to bringing her body forward, bouncing her on his cock.

“Leon—”

“Hush, now, you’re okay. Mm,” he wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, “look at how you take it. It’s like you were made to be used like this, sweet girl. Maybe you’d be better off as a toy.”

She moaned at this, feeling her cunt twitch at his words.

“Yeah? You like that?” Leon’s eyebrow raised at her a bit, teeth barring in smirk. “You like being a little toy. Being– oh, fuck, you’re enjoying this so much. Your pretty little face...”

(Y/N) threw her arms over his neck, pulling him closer to her body. Their chests pressed together, her sweat slick between them both. “God, Leon, please!”

Leon pressed his mouth on her to quiet her down, swallowing her moans as their tongues and teeth gnashed against each other. He winced as (Y/N) bit down on his lip, choking back her sobs when she clamped down on his cock. Taking this as a sign, Leon emptied his thick, synthetic cum into her.

Once he pulled out, a mixture of both of their cum pumped out, gushing and wetting in between her thighs.

“Good job, baby,” he said, stroking her face, grinning at the warmth of her cheek. “You did so well, getting all cockdrunk for me. To think I was being gentle. Wanna try my rough mode out for size?” He joked, letting his hand grip her hip.

“Goodnight, Leon,” she responded, unimpressed at his teasing and tired from what he had done to her. She brought her hand to the back of his neck and turned his dial to ‘off.'

#barleyxnighteye #fanfiction #smutfic #smut #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon kennedy x y/n #x reader #smut fanfiction #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy #alternate universe

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roosterforme · 4 months

Text

Khaki, White and Blue | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Three different uniforms on him. Three different rides for you. But there's just one man who can get you off with his words, his actions and a well placed thigh.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, smutty thigh riding, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

Happy birthday to @thedroneranger!

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist

Bradley bit his knuckle as he watched you come strolling down the vacant sidewalk toward him in the idling Bronco. He grunted softly as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, never missing a step in your high heels and snug tweed skirt. You were illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlights, and even though it was Friday, your late night teaching advanced calculus, you looked as perfectly put together as you had this morning.

"Fuck," he moaned when you opened the door and climbed in next to him, your skirt sliding up your thigh as you started to lean closer to give him a kiss.

"What?" you asked, pausing to examine his expression before dropping your gaze down to the insignia pins on his khaki uniform shirt.

Bradley shook his head, voice raspy as he said, "Don't act like you don't know that you look fine as hell, Sugar. You feel like taking a walk to the library? Maybe check out one of the study rooms?"

He leaned in as your pouty lips formed a perfect smirk, but you just nipped at his mustache, pulling away and teasing him every time he tried to deepen the kiss. You laughed softly as he chased your lips when you asked, "What's wrong with right here?"

Bradley froze except for his big hand that he slowly wrapped around the back of your neck. "Here? Parked on campus?"

You just nodded in response as he subtly adjusted himself in his pants, his body responding favorably to his wife as usual. Then you finally kissed him with parted lips, letting him taste your tongue, and you whined when he reached for you, pulling you gently until you crawled across the seat.

"You look good in your khakis with all your pins, Beer Boy," you whispered as you eased yourself down to straddle his right thigh. The interior of the Bronco was mostly dark as you reached for his rough hands and set them softly on the hem of your tweed skirt.

"You're such a fucking tag chaser," he said, trying to hide his grin as you tipped your head back and laughed. You both knew that couldn't be further from the truth, he just loved to hear your laughter. But that melodic sound was replaced with a whine as he pushed your skirt up inch by inch, bunching the tweed fabric until his hands were on your bare skin.

As he drew little circles along your thighs, he let his hands drift back until he was cupping your ass. You were already grabbing at his shoulders as you rolled your hips forward, and Bradley had to run his index finger down nearly to your pussy to even confirm you were wearing one of your tiniest thongs.

"I guess I am," you whispered, rubbing yourself against his thigh. "It's making me hot that you're getting a new pin tomorrow, Lieutenant Commander."

"Fuck," he gasped as your knee nudged his hard cock. He glanced around a little frantically, trying to make sure nobody was walking down this quiet side street. "You know, one of your students or coworkers could see this."

"Mmm," you moaned, grinding yourself down on his thigh until you gasped. "See what? Nothing's going on in here."

Bradley palmed your ass before giving you a little smack and tucking his long index finger inside your thong. He guided you forward on his thigh, keeping a foot of space between your upper body and his.

"That's right, Sugar," he whispered as you rubbed your pussy up and down his khaki pants. "We're just talking here."

You nodded as you bit your lip. "Just talking." When your head tipped back again, showing off your beautiful neck and making your tits strain against your blouse, Bradley had to fight to keep his lips off you.

"You're putting on a show for me, Baby. Feel good?"

Your hips stuttered a bit as you rode his thigh, and he guided you along with his hands on your delicious hips. "Bradley," you whined. "I... oh... oh!"

"Full sentences. Tell me what you need," he said with a smirk as you tipped your head forward to look at him and scooted up in desperation until your pussy met his gold belt buckle.

"Need this... oh!"

Bradley thrust his hips to meet you as he growled, "You sound so fucking dumb right now. I thought you had your PhD."

"Fuck!" You reached for his biceps, holding on to him as your lips parted. You were panting as you shook, grinding against the metal buckle, making soft little gasping noises as your eyes drifted closed. Bradley squeezed your hips tight as you came on the front of his khakis, moaning his name as the roll of your hips started to slow.

He reached for your left hand, running his thumb along your diamond ring as he guided your fingers to his cock where it rested hard and huge against his thigh. "You feel what you do to me?" he grunted. "You feel how much I love you?"

You nodded your head, still coming down from your own orgasm as you squeezed him gently. "I do. I feel it."

Bradley thrust up into your hand as he swallowed hard. "Get buckled in, Sugar," he commanded, and you went scrambling back across the seat, treating him to the sight of your bare ass as you went. Even in the dim light, he could see the slick, wet marks you left all over his pants, and he groaned. "I'll take you home and let you feel it until you're screaming."

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

You'd never been to a promotion banquet before, but you were thoroughly enjoying every moment of this. Your husband was sitting with his arm around you in his dress whites with his new pin on his uniform while sipping a beer, and he looked gorgeous. He was all crooked grin, crooked white hat, and flushed, pink cheeks, and you knew he would give you anything you wanted tonight.

"I still can't believe you wore that," he muttered, pressing his lips and mustache to your ear. "You just tell me when you want to go home, and I'll take care of the rest."

You moaned softly at the banquet table, basking in his attention when his beer bottle met your tattoos. You were wearing the black dress from your college reunion, the one you had on last summer when the two of you had reunited after ten years, and there were cutouts on the sides. Bradley's hands had been all over you that night, and they were all over you again now.

"Beer Boy," you warned as condensation dripped down your skin, but he didn't care. His deep, rumbling laughter alerted you to that fact.

"You've been teasing me all night. You think I don't owe you a little something?"

"What did you have in mind, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Bradley looked around the table, nodding to the other officers he knew as he set his beer down and squeezed your shoulder. He hooked his fingers under your chin and kissed you sweetly before saying, "Alright, tag chaser. Let's go for a walk."

Laughter bubbled out of you as Bradley helped you to your feet, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you unhurriedly out of the main ballroom and down a quiet hallway. "Where are we going?" you finally asked when he led you through a propped door next to the kitchens. There were some waiters and bartenders outside smoking, and Bradley pulled you right past them and around to the back of the building.

"Somewhere you can admire my new rank in private, Sugar."

"Oh," you gasped when he pushed you carefully up against the building, caging you in with his body. He took your left hand and kissed your palm and fingertips before pressing them to his new pin.

"And somewhere I can admire you," he added in the softest whisper. "I haven't seen you in this dress since our reunion. It's my favorite thing on you besides my Grateful Dead shirt."

His kisses were so soft, but you clenched around nothing as he spread your legs with his knee and pressed his thigh against you. "It's for special occasions," you whispered as your lips skimmed his. You could hear the conversation and smell the faint cigarette smoke, reminding you that you weren't alone. But that just made it even better when he started to hike up your dress, letting you feel the cool, night air on your bare skin.

"Oh god," you moaned into his mouth between sweet kisses when you felt the scratch of his white pants against your clit. "Beer Boy."

"Hmm," he hummed against your mouth as he gently palmed your bare butt with one big hand, planting his other hand next to your head on the building. He guided you up his thigh, and the pressure against your clit left you gasping. Your hands went to the back of his neck, and he held eye contact with you as you started to rock. "You're gorgeous."

"Bradley."

"And smart. Always so far out of my league," he added, and you clenched again as he kissed your cheek. He was so solid and warm, and your brain was in a fog as he said, "I want you to do it."

"Do what?" you whined, hips rocking against his thigh at the tempo he set with his big hand.

He squeezed you, digging his fingers into the round of your rear end as he told you, "I want you to mess up my pants, Sugar." He cupped your chin. "Mark me up. Get me all wet. Like you own me."

When your head tipped back, you gasped. You nudged his length as you rolled your hips, but Bradley just said, "Keep going. Keep going." You were practically dangling from his neck as you held onto him and wiggled against him, grinding and humping until you were almost there. "That's it," he encouraged, reading it on your face. "Good girl."

That's all it took as your walls fluttered. "Bradley!" you whined, and his lips found yours as you came, feeling yourself gush just like he wanted. "Oh my god." He kissed you harder before you could get too loud, and your pussy was soaking wet as he guided his knee away from your body as you chased him until your front was pressed completely to his.

Your dress fell back into place, and he wrapped his hands around your waist as his crooked grin returned. He was fully erect, hard in his white pants, and you were about to offer to take care of it for him when he said, "Let's get back inside and have dessert while I show off my pants, and then I'll take you home and let you suck my cock."

Still whimpering, he paraded you back inside with his pant leg wet at the exact same height as your pussy.

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

Bradley slept like a log after you sucked him off so long and so well, he even dreamed about you showing off your pretty mouth full of his cum before you swallowed. You'd whispered, "I love you, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," to him so many times as he dozed off, of course he was startled when he woke up alone. He grunted your name, hand roaming around your side of the bed before he heard the shower running.

He reached down to stroke his cock with a smile, the thought of your body warm and wet with water cascading down back had him a little hard already. The sweet scent of your body wash filled the air, sending Bradley's legs swinging over the edge of the bed to get to you. But then he froze when he saw his white uniform pants on the floor from last night, and his mind drifted. Friday night, you had his khakis in the Bronco, and Saturday you had his dress whites while he got promoted. You deserved everything this weekend, so he turned toward the closet to dig out his third uniform for your grinding pleasure.

He was grinning as he buttoned up his jacket, affixing his new pin to the front before tossing his blue hat on his head as he heard you call out from the bathroom. "Oh, good, you're up. I had this fun thought that maybe you could-"

You froze in the doorway, completely naked with a pair of clean underwear in your hand, and you bit your lip as you took in his appearance. Bradley watched as you pressed your thighs together, but he knew you'd be spreading them for him soon.

"Maybe I could what?" he asked, voice deep and raspy as you took a few steps closer, closing the distance to him.

You looked up at him, tapping his new pin with your index finger as he stood tall for you. "You read my mind. I was going to say maybe you could change into your dress blues for me," you whispered. "Let me have all three this weekend."

Bradley groaned as you pushed him back toward the edge of the bed where he sat down hard. When you came to stand between his splayed legs, he reached out to wrap his hands around your thighs as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Your skin was warm, and when he slid his hands up, he traced your ass with his thumbs, loving how you'd filled out since college.

"It's all yours, Sugar," he said, kissing along your tits and tasting your skin before you turned your back to him. "Oh, hell," he moaned as you planted your palms on his thighs and bent a little bit before slowly wiggling your ass from side to side against the front of his pants. "What are you doing, Baby?" he rasped, heart thudding as he brought his hands up to your hips while you essentially gave him a lap dance. If you wanted to turn the bedroom into his own private champagne room, he was not about to complain.

"Warming up my seat," you whispered, bumping back on his cock. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder, Bradley leaned forward to kiss your shoulder, and you arched your back for him before you straddled his left thigh. "This okay?" you asked as your back rested against his chest. When you glanced at him again, your lips were so close, he had to kiss them.

"Baby, you do whatever you want to me," he crooned, letting his hands drift to the front of your body. He circled your clit with his middle finger and smiled as his mouth found your neck. Your pussy was nice and wet, just the way he wanted it on his pants, and your ass bumped his cock every time you moved.

Bradley took his time, moving his finger at the pace he knew you liked as he sucked gently on your neck and shoulder. "You smell good," he whispered before nipping you and licking you over and over again. With every roll of your hips, he thought about bending you over and fucking the absolute shit out of you, but he'd let you have your fun first.

"A little harder, Beer Boy," you whined, looking back at him as he pressed his finger into your clit until you gasped. Your eyes were half lidded as you planted both of your hands on his leg just above his left knee. "That's so good."

He had only ever been truly good for you. He only ever planned on being good and sweet and everything you needed. When your back arched in pleasure again, you started to rock and grind, treating him to the sight of your perfect ass rubbing his cock. His pants felt snug, and then he thought about how tight your pussy was and he yanked you back against him, making you squeal in delight as he nibbled your ear.

"You got me really wound up," he growled. Every movement had you rubbing up on him while he swiped his finger up and down your slick clit as you babbled. The faster he moved his finger, the closer you got. And the harder you rocked against his cock. "Jesus, Sugar."

"Can't help it," you gasped, reaching for his hand and pulling it from your clit up to your mouth. "I'm so close." And then you licked his fingers before taking them between your lips, rocking back as you humped his leg.

You were his wife, always treating him to the finest things in bed and out, but you were feral right now, whining and moaning his name. He explored the front of your body with his other hand, pinching your nipples and squeezing. You got louder, bumping his cock in a delicious rhythm as you sucked away on his fingers.

He wanted your pussy and your mouth and your tits, every part of your body wrapped around his cock. He wanted it sloppy, just how he knew you could get as your tongue swirled around his fingers. He wanted you every single fucking way.

"Baby," he groaned, your saliva running down to his palm as your back arched again. "Oh, shit."

His hand settled around the front of your neck as your voice rose, a pretty crescendo of a needy whine as you jerked your hips and came on him. "Bradley!" You were loud now, grabbing at both of his thighs to keep yourself seated as you rode out your orgasm, but it was too late for him as your right hand slid back to grab his cock.

Two loud grunts in your ear, and he came, too. Right in his dress blues.

He was still thrusting against your hand when you groaned, "I got your pants soaking wet," as your hips slowed down. When you looked back at him one more time, you whispered, "I love you. Tell me how you want me to get you off."

Bradley could feel the stinging heat rising in his cheeks as you gently nibbled his lips and then stood on shaky legs in front of him. You kissed him and knocked his hat off before you reached for the fly of his blue pants. He had to take your hands in his to still them. "You already got me off," he muttered.

You looked puzzled before you ran your hand lower to his softening cock, and then he saw the realization of what just happened dawning on your perfect face. Your lips parted on a moan that had him reaching to pull your body against him. "That's so hot," you whispered, your voice sounding desperate again. "That's so fucking hot, Beer Boy."

In one swift motion, you pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist, leaning down so your bare breasts rubbed his pins. "You're so fucking hot," he promised as you licked the side of his neck and whimpered, letting your pussy rest on his uniform jacket now.

"How fast can you get hard again?" you asked, taking his wrists in your hands and pinning them above his head before your lips returned to his neck.

Bradley grinned and closed his eyes, enjoying your little whimpers next to his ear. "With you on top of me, Sugar? I'd say pretty damn fast."

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

I love these two, and I think Sugar deserved a nice weekend. Congratulations to Beer Boy! And happy birthday, Jay! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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troublesh00terfaery · 1 year

Text

BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT!

[THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION]

[One Shot] (or not, thinking of making a part two for this)

[Alhaitham x AFAB! Reader]

Words: 6.8k

Synopsis: ah well, experiments can quite lead to either expected results or something unexpected. don't you agree?

Tags: AFAB! Reader, teasing, breeding (we doing it raw for him), voyeurism, just kinky sex with this man what else? anal, creampie, a looooottt of sex, making a movie with him, well guess it's valentines for you this night with him :D

A/N: I'm gonna have to be honest with y'all, this smut made me realize I still have my unholiness within me and it's HOLY WEEK! anyway, starting to question if I should make a part 2 (seriously thinking this is okay as a one shot). Let me know in the comments. I'm also thinking of making a playlist while you guys read this, will probably open a yt account very soon as I have already have the list of songs! did not thoroughly proofread so my bad.

FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

Being a student under the Amurta Darshan wasn't a joke, and the other Darshans can say as well with their respective schools. Before graduating under their respective house, one must comply a special research in order to finish. Of course, being an Amurta student, research isn’t new to you nor to them as well considering the demands of research in the biological and medical field is rising.

Recently, a type of fungi has emerged in the rainforests of Sumeru. It was a great variable for research, yes, however with little to no information with regards to the new species of fungi, one must analyze and observe the organism intricately. Some of the Amurta students felt overwhelmed of studying something unknown and new however the new biological specie sparked interest in you that gathering and studying it wasn't of a big deal considering the Sage has given the graduating students time with their research.

You took the interest of how this mushroom might affect an individual if consumed. Very cliche however if taken into a researcher's perspective, it isn't. Considering of the possible harm this specie might cause if ingested. Nah, it didn't scare you. You just happen to be that curious considering of the hearsays you often hear among the localities. Peculiar, most of them saying.

It would appear that it does somehow look like a sea ganoderma that is abundant in Inazuma that bloomed near the beaches and shores however these fungi have bloomed in damped areas in the deep forests of Sumeru. The color of this fungi might be different from the usual ganoderma as it was the color of light purple. It did somehow secrete a transparent and mucilaginous fluid with a sweet odor.

Quite a strange description that even at times you smile whilst gathering its viscous fluid for examination.

"Are you even sure about this one? You're genuinely scaring me." Kaveh, who happens to be your closest friend and a student from Akademiya under the Darshan of Kshahrewar, was one of the test subjects for your research. He is a year ahead of you, making him your senior. "Am I your lab rat again?"

"Not just you, I'm also going to drink it myself to test it out and see if there are any notable changes or changes in an individual if one drinks this concoction."

You watched your boiling flask create boiling bubbles and watched it disperse as you used a stirring rod. "Don't use the word 'lab rat' that just sounds so unethical."

Kaveh's scared and nervous demeanor was obvious that he took a deep breath before he went off ranting.

"What am I supposed to call myself? What am I supposed to do if this weird witchy-like potion of yours kill me? Kill you? KILL US?! goodness research is inevitable among us students but this is jeopardizing us, my dear Y/N!"

"It won't!" You snickered and tried to comfort him by keeping a straight face. "Besides I did try to use it as an alternative fertilizer and spray it on my Sumeru roses."

You pinpointed a pot just below your study table. "It quite bloomed quickly and as you see. It did sprout new buds in almost 2 weeks only so I can write in my observations that it can be a great fertilizer if used."

"It's a plant, Archons sake! It looks lewd too!"

"It is, I will not lie!"

He drew his nose closer to the fungi. "Strange but it does smell good, sweet and flowery. For a fungus, it is weird."

You spent your afternoon trying to convince Kaveh to say yes to your research. In the end he eventually said yes to you as you have persuaded him that it was safe. Both of you agreed to drink it after two days and another follow up take in of the concoction to see if there are any differences.

Two days have passed and it was the time to finally test out the mixture you have prepared. Along with you was a small briefcase that was filled with your apparatuses needed. Of course, like they say: it's better to be prepared. At exactly 7:00 in the evening, as agreed by you and your friend, you must meet him at his house.

Or his friend's house rather.

Of course, you were aware that he was indeed a freeloader inside nonother than Alhaitham's house but he assured you that during that time the Akademiya's scribe isn't present during those times considering that he's been busy the past few days.

To you, there's nothing special about Alhaitham. Rather than being the scribe and an introverted Haravatat student.

Well, he's quite good looking and somewhat that annoyed you. He somehow did radiate as someone with god complex and if ever the end of world happens, he's gotta be one of those people who will AND WILL survive.

You have arrived 10 minutes early of the said time but it seems that Kaveh is late for 10 minutes. Until it became 20 and 30 minutes late. At first it was bearable however you couldn't waste time anymore. You wanted to finish your research just like any other students.

"I can't believe he's pissing me off. He told me he'll be early." You stood up and knocked three times.

"Kaveh? It's me. It's already 7:30 in the evening and you're not opening the door. Open it!" The annoyance dripping from your tone like acid.

You knocked again. No response.

Another four more knocks and calling his name. No response.

Fuck, Kaveh what's the matter with you? Come out.

Another final succession of knocks and still no response.

You gave up attempting to knock and call his name. It was either: he was just hiding from you because it did genuinely scare him or he wasn't really there. But he couldn't lie to you, you both agreed to testing out the mixture.

"Alright, whatever. Loser."

Heaving a sigh, you stepped back from the door and murmured a few words before accepted defeat and just before you walk away, you happen to stumble something strong and tall from behind and you could immediately tell that it wasn't Kaveh. Your head against a chest.

You slowly lifted your head and greeted the face of nonother than Akademiya's scribe.

"If you knock like that, you'll surely destroy my door." He lowered his gaze to match yours with a rested expression.

Oh, it is indeed Alhaitham. It is indeed him. Him. Oh.

Oh...

Neither of you moved from that position for a while, both of you matching the gazes before you realized it was awkward and slowly lowered your head and made way for him and pretended to idle yourself by fixing your skirt. To be fair, he is really THAT attractive.

He ain't just gifted with intelligence but he knows he is THAT good looking and attractive.

"And what does this Amurta student doing in front of my house at this hour?" His arms slowly sliding to his pocket to get his keys. Tone monotone before skimming to the key for his door.

"I'm here for Kaveh." You took a grip on the handle of your case.

He opened the door and only answered 'hm.' Uninterested. He shifted his gaze at you leaned his toned body against the frame of the door.

"Did he somehow invite you here?"

You nodded and met his gaze before breaking it off.

"We both agreed to meet here."

"I assume it's for your research. Well, come inside. Don't want Kaveh to nag at me for not entertaining his visitor."

You came inside shortly following him. Upon entering, you couldn't help but to scan the house. There's nothing special to mention aside the paper works piled up in a table and scraps of paper under a desk and certain apparatuses that is used for measuring you assumed. It seemed to be Kaveh's side of table that it has be him, it was chaotic.

Closing the door, you immediately sat and primed yourself up in an not so familiar place. Alhaitham sat at the sofa just in front of you and observed you from head to toe before he inhaled. His back relaxed against the back rest of the sofa.

"So... out of all the possible participants you could've chose, you really picked him?"

"I don't see a problem a problem with him being my participant."

"And why is that?"

"It's my research, I get to choose who I want to be my participants."

He wasn't so sure if you were insulted by his questions but it did amuse him by the way you answered him directly with a soft tone.

"Sadly, he's not here."

"Seems so."

Both of your eyes now met and neither of you wanted to break it off. Seems like you already knew how bad your chemistry will be with him by just this interaction. Silence surrounded the room, not a single flinch from neither of you but the eye contact creating this tension between you and the scribe was barely tolerable that you wanted to break free from the contact.

But he didn't show any hesitancy to break off the connection of your gazes, in fact he would want admit he would see this as competition. It wasn't evident in his face but the way he cocked his head slightly to one side just showed how much of cunning asshole he is but it was attractive in a way, of course you couldn't deny it. Being cunning just adds to the list of attributes that just makes him attractive.

Uh well, yeah…

In return, you gave him a soft doe-look and a small smile. The scribe only gave you a small smile in return. Come to think of it, if waiting for Kaveh to return would be a waste of time for you and precious research then why not make him your first research?

"Say, considering that my friend is not here, how about you take his place instead?"

He raised his brow and crossed his arms. "Friend? and here I was thinking that you were dating. But he did mention a close friend." he scoffed.

"Hmm, people often think we’re dating but we’re not." you scoffed and let out a single giggle. “Kaveh’s good looking himself.”

"You're saying you're not good looking then?"

You gazed at him, smile wearing off before you pressed your lips together. "I didn't say anything."

You pressed your legs together as your hands clenched the hem line of your skirt. You lowered your gaze and tried to divert the topic. Your eyes went to look at your small briefcase.

With you little movements, he finds himself smiling at just how fragile yet collected at the same time you looked like. How you pressed those lips of yours that has the tiniest shine probably from your lip balm and the little tint of color pressed unto your plump lips.

'Cherry red? No probably that Tangerine wine... impossible. Peony red? Champagne pink? Too strong. Dewy peach? What else did I see from the market that sold those kinds of...balms'

"Ah, as I proposed a while ago, you can take Kaveh's spot." You paused.

He gave you a look to continue by giving you a small nod.

"It's about these fungi that out of nowhere grew at the rainforests of Sumeru. It was estimated to have grown two to four months ago where the weather condition was harsh yet perfect for cultivating these fungi to grow..." you got up to get your briefcase and showed him a glass box where the specimen of the fungi was stored.

You showed him the glass box before you slowly and carefully dragged one of the chairs to give the box a better and closer view to him and sat properly with an excited look. The expression you made just made him smile in the back of his head.

Just the way your breasts that hugged your white turtleneck sweater coordinated with every movement you made and how your thighs look plush as you sat at such...rather unconscious provocative manner. There's so much about you that keeps him wondering about you. What would such a girl, an Amurta student like you, keep this Scribe fixated at you. You were just, innocently charming that he couldn’t resist the thought of him doing--

‘What am I thinking, this is wrong’

"As you can see, it does look like a-"

"Sea Ganoderma, local from Inazuma. But the color is different, yes." He pulled the chair you were sitting just enough to be close to him, not breaking his gaze from you. Attentive.

"I can't see if you move your hands much. Stay still."

Now again, both of your gazes have started its connection again only this time it was closer. The gazing and whatever the fuck it was with your eyes and his eyes, it gave pause and silenced the whole room. The sudden closeness has made you tense a bit that you were taken a back.

"Okay?" He looked at your surprised, lost, and doe eyed look that made you look innocent.

You responded with a small nod and a sheepish tone. “’Kay,” a tint blush forming in your cheeks.

He didn’t move to his usual position. He stayed like that exactly and gave you a signal to continue with your details by him giving you a small nod. At first, you were hesitant considering the space he ate up just to get a closer look to you and the box you had. But you didn’t have to waste time so you went on with your detailing.

You described to him its delicious scent despite having a peculiar anatomy. You showed him your paper works as to the recorded data of how it also affected the Sumeru roses you had in your room.

“You conduct laboratory observations in your room?”

“What? the biology laboratory is already packed with students with their specimens. It might affect mine as well.”

“And you think that your room couldn’t affect the variables then? Hm?”

Furrowing your brows, you scoffed. He was indeed correct. The location was indeed part of the variables to be considered that might affect the status of your fungus. That was one of matters that you missed out and it somehow annoyed as out of the person that could’ve corrected you, it would be him.

“Seems like you missed some points to be noted for your research then, Miss Y/N?”

You stood up, randomly gave him the box, and took your briefcase to get to concoction you prepared. You didn’t see any need of explaining the details to him, seems like he already knows your stuff. You showed two him two test tubes with the same length of the concoction. Alhaitham observed you.

Your back facing him as you tend your mixture into another separate glasses. His right-hand skimming through the edges of the box, fingers delicately feeling the edges and surface of the box and not taking his eyes off you. There again, his curiosity taking over with just the sight of you that it somehow intrigued and annoyed him. He slowly opened the box and there he smelled the pungent smell of something gourmand and flowery and yet something of earthy at the same time.

He couldn’t understand what smell it was but somehow it was lulling him.

The silence slowly rang your ears and the pressure between the time and how quiet the room is made you feel heavy. You felt yourself jittery that after a while of his presence and darting eyes from behind you. The night was windy and you can only hear the slow chimes of the door charm and the gentle tings and tacks of the glass. A few moments have passed, you can only hear him grunt and clearing his throat.

“Is something the matter?” You looked at him only to find him resting his left hand to the hand rest of the sofa, palms covering his face whilst his right hand toying the box and seems to play with the lid of the box.

“How’s the smell?” You took each test tubes and went over to him, sitting at the same seat you were just in front of him and took a deep breath. “Now all you have to do it drink this concoction with me if there are any notable changed it will happen to a person who ingested it. Don’t worry, like I said you’ll be drinking—”

“Are you serious? This already makes my head ache, the smell. You think I’ll drink that?”

“You’re drinking it with me. I only need the data.”

He looked at you, his brow raising. “What makes you think I’m going to drink that.”

You looked away, not knowing what are the possibilities too. If you ever come up with using the data of plants, he’ll find an argument just to cease your experiment. You held unto your test tubes and faced him. Doe eyes showing desperation and pleading.

“Please, Alhaitham. I’ll do whatever you want. I just need the data…” You didn’t care at this point, you’re never the type to agree to doing whatever the person wants but if it’s Alhaitham, well there would be no problem at all. “Please?”

Looking at your little parade of innocence and desperation, he couldn’t help but to hate himself by letting his inner thoughts run through his system. The way you held the test tubes on each hand of yours enthusiastically a while ago and how you lowered it down to rest to your thigh. How your thumb caressed the glass surface, how your lips pressed before biting your lower lips in frustration causing it to darken its color. Your eyes asking for an answer, and voice soft. You looking so irresistibly delicious to pounce at.

Just you, being this little sweet lamb that he couldn’t just resist.

“Please, Alhaitham. Please?”

Fuck. Fuck is happening to me?

“Fuck this.” He cursed under his raspy breath, clearing his throat yet his brows furrowed. Before he adjusts himself in his seat by leaning back and bucking his hips up. “Look, at least if there is any possibility that we will die, at least I die with you and your silly little experiments for your silly little research. Got it, you silly girl?"

The enthusiasm back once again in your face. You smiled at him and nodded a couple of times. You instructed him for a few reminders to take note. The two lines that were labeled in each glass signified the amount of mixture was to be ingested.

In a count of 3 you both drank together. The smell of the concoction was lessened however its scent note was still there. Both of you didn’t move, your eyes focusing on the paper and your pen. Alhaitham on the other hand is busy with minding his books.

A few moments have passed a slow tingling heat started to surge in your body. The heat surging inside your body was slow yet everywhere. At first you thought it was just your sweater so did not pay no mind however as time passed, you realized that it starting to get warm and hot. It was making your head dizzy and sweat. You tried to cool yourself by fanning with your hands.

It was a cold evening, a reason why you wore your turtleneck to warm you up yet it seems that it's getting a little hotter. You started to fan yourself with your palms. From fanning yourself to using the loose cloth of your polo neck to fan your chest loosen up. Everything happening right now wasn't anything you expected to be.

Ways... ways... ways... ways to distract myself... what is this? I need to distract myself? Is it too hot here?

You suddenly remembered the paper you were supposed to fill with the initial observation of the first dose of the concoction. Upon looking at it, you felt lightheaded and almost felt like you were slowly floating.

While you were drafting random bullshit in your paper, Alhaitham on the other end felt the same sensation in your body. He was either thinking it was the effect of the pungent scent of the fungus or the mixture you just gave him. His head started to spin and a surge of heat in his body roamed his system. A storm inside him that just felt that it would never end nor calm down. He needed to compose himself, a simple concoction cannot just simply make him feel bizarre.

Alhaitham wanting to stop the chaos suddenly stood up to find his headphones. At times, he would resort to just playing music in his headphones to block noise or just randomly wear it to make it seem that he's does not want to interact.

He just wanted to have and wear it yet his body betrayed him the moment he stood up. His eyes slowly blurring and his legs felt no life made him weak. Just right after passing by after you, he fumbled. Tripping just the moment he passed at the table, falling. A few of your apparatuses falling included some of the unloaded test-tubes and a single tube with viscous and thick liquid inside spilled at his chest, left arm, and the crotch part of his pants.

"Archons…” he whispered, feeling a pang of defeat as he sat at the floor and tried to wipe the excess mixture.

The commotion startled you as you started to fill up the details of the paper. You quickly took action and assisted the young man. Taking a handkerchief from your pocket of your skirt you started to wipe the mess on his chest.

He was wearing his usual dark off-coat that hugged his chest. You couldn't help to get distracted at the little intricate gem that was in his sternum.

Slowly... slowly... you were being lulled again. Like an effective hypnosis it seemed like you were in a haze that you couldn't understand. You couldn't even control your body. The heat was all over your body.

The way you started to simply just mess up instead of cleaning it was a sign that the aphrodisiac took over your senses. You were so distracted and helpless. Everything about this man in front of you was like a need and a want of your body and soul.

Alhaitham felt the same.

The tension, the spark, the need, the hunger to just own you was evident yet he didn't want to be consumed by it. There was this resistance of him and the more he forced to neglect the feeling, the stronger the urge wave his body.

He felt weak and he didn't like that. It was too much yet you kept fueling the fire that he was suppressing. At this very moment, he wanted to breed and own you. A mixture of aggression and lust now surging.

"Haitham..." you dragged a fingertip to his intricate gem that was at his sternum and pressed your thighs as you dragged, fingertips feeling the shape of his gem. It made him hitch his breath, an irregular breath and a painful erection as he got indulged by your little play.

“Get up.”

No response.

“Y/N…”

“I should’ve known, this was an aphrodisiac. A strong one—Fuck, Y/N.” He threw his head as he saw you press your pretty lips against his gem, pecking it before looking at him with doe-fuck-me-till-i-break eyes.

“Haitham…”

“Get up, Y/N…” his voice croaked “Or else we’re going to have to fuck the whole night.” He cupped your cheek, feeling the heat of your skin.

“Haitham, too hot…” you lowered your jacket until it reached your elbow, exposing the tight turtleneck top you wore that happily hugged your mounds and figure. Innocently provoking him. "...hot" you murmured and held his hand that cupped your cheek. Now the back of his hand slimy with the mixture and looking back at him with lust-heart eyes.

"Yeah, you and I won't be going to class tomorrow."

And just like that?

Just like that. It was enough to push him to the edge.

Sloppy kisses, hitched and panting breathes, desperate rutting, and slapping of skins reverberated his whole room. There was only one thing on both of your minds: to fuck.

"H-Haitham~!"

To fuck until you couldn't do it anymore. Breed and fill you up to the brim until his seed spilled out your tired plush pussy.

Your moans were getting louder and louder as you felt another succession of orgasm reaching to you. A hollow feeling started to build up inside you and his cockhead adding up to the climatic feeling as he abused your soft spongy cervix, desperately wanting to push it further and deeper.

Alhaitham unconsciously made people feel small without doing nothing. It was probably his reputation and how cunning he is, he had his ways just to get what he wants.And now definitely, he made you feel small. His length overwhelming you and your insides. The way it made you feel stuffed and full inside and how he's just towering above you. Hands clasped on your ass and carried your weight was he pressed you against the wall and rutted violently.

He kept his mouth busy by marking your chest and neck and desperately sucked on your peaks. He felt the need to breed you and fill you up with his cum.

The constant hitting of your cervix and the rough ministration made you squirm and groan. Your walls pressuring and pressing tightly against his cock signaled him that you were close. Your legs now wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. He can feel how wet your spongy walls.

"Gonna cum... Ah~! Haitham! Gonna cum-"

"Yeah? Gonna cum again?" He chuckled. "Fuck-- you're getting too loud- Mhn~!" He pressed against yours as he maintained his pace, not changing it. He felt that he was getting near too and that excited him.

Your walls spasmed and legs trembled as you reached your climax, Alhaitham chucked as he changed his pace before he pulled out making you squirt from the intense punishing of your cunt.

"Haitham—" you hitched your breath, heart beating fast as you squirted again. Alhaitham looked down as he watched you make a mess and that just made him hard enough and drive him to make your squirt again. He violently pushed his cock again inside and started to rut and roughly pulling it out making you buck your hips up and squirt again.

"Haitham please~ oh~!"

a slower one so you could have your moment before he continued his pursuit to seek his high. He changed his pace again, a faster one. A rough and fast one.

His tip now teasing your spot that made you tremble again. His cock made your pussy sing for a couple of times now. He had been breeding your pussy since and the both of you couldn't have enough, a never-ending high and feeling of wanting to release.

"Fuck, gonna fill you up-" he panted, rested his forehead against yours, making him watch the little show: your pussy eating him whole and forming a little bump as he entered. "Your pussy's the best!"

With one final thrust, he came inside you. Rutting and violently spasming as he filled your abused hole the 4th time tonight.

Time:10:30 PM

Recorded data (written): none

Recorded through Kamera data: none, battery level at 90 percent.

It was the fifth time tonight. Now he's fucking you from behind, your chest and the side of your face pressed against the wall as well as both of your palms. Alhaitham drilling his thick and veiny cock inside your spongy and abused walls. Your moans are getting louder again and he was fascinated the way you just came over and over because of his cock. You kept soaking and drenching his dick with your pussy juice. It started to make sloppy noises whenever he pushed in and out. You started to cream again, forming a ring on the base of his cock.

"You feel so good, Alhaitham~!" You moaned, feeling his tight grip against your beautiful hips and created crescent marks as he slammed his cock back and forth.

"Fuuuck this pussy is mine-- fuck fuck fuck--" he groaned, he took his left arm and wrapped his left palm to your neck and slowly pulled it making you arch your back and head hitting his shoulder. He slowly guided his palm that wrapped your neck to your jaw and continuously rutted. Now you can clearly hear his groans and panting.

He hammered his cockhead again and felt your spongy and plush cervix making him push his cock deeper as he came inside you again. He covered your cervix with his thick cum.

Time: 12:50 AM

Recorded data (written): none

Recorded data through kamera: Data recorded, battery level at 75 percent

"Didn't realize you had your kamera with you." He chuckled turning the camera on as he gazed at your body. Tired and a mess, cum dripping out from both of your pussy and ass hole. Saying that he liked it was an understatement, he loved it and seeing the mess you both made him harder. He realized that the slimy juice that it was a lubricant and the purpose of this fungi was an overall aphrodisiac with versatility.

"Haitham..." You called out his name, hoarse and small. You slowly opened your legs and revealed your aching and puffed cunt wanting for more. Alhaitham on the other hand set the kamera up just enough to get an angle of you and him in the frame together.

"Just for the data." He sighed, hoovering on top of you and pressing his lips against yours. Hands roaming around your waist before he positioned his cock again and decided teasing you. His cockhead teasing your puffy and abused entrance before he guided his length to your clit and gently pressed his head.

The pressure made you squirm and groan from his ministration. A few taps of his cockhead to your clit and a few pumping of his dick before he slowly reached out for your nape and raised it. Your weak body being supported by your wobbly elbows and your forehead against his.

"Put it in…" you hissed at him and brows furrowing.

"Not so polite are we?" Slowly inserted half his length making the excitement in your stomach rise up again and his hips buckle. "Say it, princess."

"Please put it in, please please please~" you plead with look of longing.

With a smirk, Alhaitham slowly pushed his cock inside you and guided his hand that held your nape and lowered it for you to watch him get inside you. He pushed until his head was greeted by your cervix but oh, he didn't stop there.

He slowly pushed further making you moan from the pressure of wanting to push further.

"Haitham--too deep~! Ahh~!"

Alhaitham couldn't resist to smirk while he looked at your eyes roll back and legs quivering. You just got this man hooked with your pussy and beauty.

"Cumming already?" he teased as he started to move his hips in a piston like pace.

Time: 3:33 AM

Recorded data(written): none

Recorded data through Kamera: Data recorded, battery level at 11%

"Too tired, Haitham…" you whined.

You took a pause for a moment as you felt your legs wobble and strain a pain from grinding him. Him buried deep in your ass wasn't on the menu but who would've thought that you both

would enjoy it. You rested your palms on both of his thighs and rested your back against his hard chest and took another deep breath as you started to bounce on his dick again. It was slow yet deep, something that made Alhaitham groan and hiss.

"I know, baby…" he chuckled as he saw you in action again. "…just can't get enough of you."

Talk about having three of your holes stretched out in a single night. You couldn't count how many times have he came inside your pussy and mouth and now he just discovered about the pleasure of having his cock buried deep inside your ass.

"So goood~ So deep~!" you whined, biting your lower lip and continued to bounce on his dick. It was sloppy and it was thanks to his cum and the lube combined together and oh, he loved to see the his cum and the lube together forming strings in your ass cheeks and asshole and making sloppy and erotic sounds each time you bounced on it.

He noticed your bouncing started to slow down until you stopped again, making him chuckle. He kissed your shoulder blade and whispered "Sofa."

Alhaitham helped you stand up and walked towards the sofa where you faced the arm of the sofa and rested your arms on it.

"Ass up," Alhaitham took his cock and slowly pushed it inside your ass again making you moan from stretching your whole with his size. "So b-big~" You rolled your eyes as he let a final push to burry it deep.

A sting left your right ass cheek when he slapped it and groping both cheeks, slowly making a move again. It started slow until it was fast and deep. Alhaitham took both of your arms and held it from behind, penetrating deeper and making you bend over forward.

Balls slapping against your clit making you moan louder. You were so lulled by his dick you didn't even realize that you have classes today. Same goes to Alhaitham and he could feel his climax reaching as well and with one final push deep, he came inside you.

Time: 6:30 AM

Recorded data(written): none

Recorded data through Kamera: none, kamera has shut down. battery at 0%.

"Thank the fucking Archons I have bought my keys-" Kaveh scanned his pocket to check if his keys were really in his pocket which of course is there. He hurriedly scanned the keys.

"Key key key- Archons where the fuck is that key!"

The little commotion just outside Alhaithams abode made the scribe awake. He was a light sleeper, it was enough to awake him since he knew this voice and tone so well it annoyed him early in the morning. Alhaitham was about to rise when he heard your small groans making him look at his chest.

The little commotion just outside Alhaitham's abode made the scribe awake. He was a light sleeper, it was enough to awake him since he knew this voice and tone so well it annoyed him early in the morning. Alhaitham was about to rise when he heard your small groans making him look at his chest.

There you were sleeping. Your once peaceful face grunted when Kaveh shouted another curse and that hit Alhaitham.'

'We fucked.' he said into himself. His brain was somewhat still foggy from last night and he could feel his worn out muscles. He heaved a sigh as to trying to figure what to do with you still sleeping while his roommate is already making his head hurt from his cursing and loud voice. Fragments of what happened last night made him groan especially when he saw the Kamera faced at them. Did it bother him? Well, he simply ignored it. He knew it was down but he knew it recorded some. Probably gonna check it out later.

"We're late for class," he whispered and gently stood up when you were awoken from his movements and the noise Kaveh made. Alhaitham didn't move another muscle and hoped you would just sleep but turns out you were trying to keep yourself awake by rubbing your eyes when you faced him.

"Alhai…" you then lowered your gaze and finally realized that you were in his bed NAKED. "…tham."

"It's okay, you should lie down and rest." he looked at your face before scanning your body. Bruises, marks, flushed face, and…

"my body hurts." you whispered, feeling a bit conscious when he started to scan your body. You covered it with his blanket and looked away.

…sore body. Alhaitham hid a somewhat victorious ghost smile and sat on the edge of the bed, the blanket barely covering his waist. His back was facing you and you noticed

The red marks on his back that somehow looked like a…

"Scratch?" you whispered again with your soft hoarse voice. Alhaitham heard, his right arm reaching his back before facing you. "I thought it was implied that Akademiya students shouldn't have long nails?" he looked at your fingers to see an opal-colored nail polish with your nails with just the right length and round shape which you quickly hid from him.

He looked at your figure again making him gaze at you intently, eyes piercing before he looked away and faced the wall. He palmed his face when he realized his morning wood is up and is in dire need of attention. Morning woods are normal to him every morning but this?

He shrugged off the want to feel your pussy walls in him again but Archons it did want him to feel that again. He stood up and got his brief and boxers and wore it. He took a new off coat from his cabinet and handed it over to you which you accepted. "Or would you like a sweatshirt instead?"

"This is already fine, thank you." you couldn't look at him, he was barely dressed and his body is too beautiful and distracting, stimulating you to think about irrational and unholy thoughts. Pray the archons none of them actually reads your mind.

You took the well folded and newly laundered cloth and looked at it. Your mind was still hazy and foggy making Alhaitham think you actually didn't know how to wear them. He took a sweatshirt from his cabinet and sat beside you.

"Seems like you forgot how to wear clothes I suppose."

"No…"

He didn't listen, he took his sweatshirt. "Get dressed, we're eating breakfast."

As much as you wanted to, you just felt that your body was that tired and just gave him a helpless look. "Haitham… need help. I feel sore."

Another sigh, Alhaitham took the blanket and revealed your body again. Plush thighs with marks, beautiful mounds with marks on your under boobs and some on your waist. Your neck and color bones decorated with his marks. Seems like he enjoyed his self quite too much last night he admitted. He gulped and helped you get clothed.

He then gazed at you.

"Don't look at me like that. Those eyes of yours" clenching his jaw, he looked at you again with piercing gaze.

"Look at you like?"

He came closer to you, gently wrapping his one arm all over your waist and pulling you close to him while he rested his back on the bed frame. He left kisses again on each mark he left on your neck and gently raised his sweatshirt you wore.

You softly whimpered from his actions, eyes closed and hands wrapped on his neck. Just as about he was about to leave another mark…

"Alhaitham open the fucking door, I have something to get!" Kaveh's frustrated voice and loud knocks made you hitch your breath. "Alhaitham! Damn it you Scribe! open!"

"Haitham…" You looked at him but he doesn't seem to mind Kaveh's wanting to break the door. He nibbled on your left nipple and gropped on your right breast while he looked at you. He started to suck on in it slowly and closed his eyes, alternating his sucking from your left nipple to your right.

Kaveh's knocks were getting loud and you were already telling Alhaitham that you should hide but oh, Alhaitham has better plans.

"Dude open the door, Archons!"

Alhaitham stood up and wore his shorts before he gently carried you like a bride as he went to the door. Truth is, you didn't know what Alhaitham's plan was. All he did was give you his stoic look before smiling devilishly while he draped you with his coat. You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold onto him.

Alhaitham finally opened the door.

"Thank Archons you actually opened-"

Kaveh's voice dropped as what he saw. Alhaitham gave him his usual stoic face as he gave you a nudge. You slowly looked at Kaveh with a flushed and embarrassed look.

"Come in." Alhaitham spoke. "Best not to leave your keys behind again." The sarcastic remark from Alhaitham dripping all over his tone.

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Could I request Kaveh and Al-Haitham with an s/o who's super clingy during sex?

Its the best time to be clingy though, even more intimate that way.

Pairing: Al-Haitham, Kaveh x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, hickyes, gentle sex to rough sex, begging, possessive sex, marking, praise, clit stimulation

A/N: These two are such an iconic duo. Weather they're shipped together or with you. Or both.

Al-Haitham can see that you just crave his affection. He's hesitant to offer it if your relationship is still new because he feels like he would disappoint you at some point by not being there. With your arms wrapped around him it's hard for him to deny how much you love him, how much you want him.

He has to give in, he has to give you his all, he needs to let you know he loves you too. He's whispering and kissing his admiration across your skin, leaving a map of hickyes from your neck to your clit where he sucks the little bundle of nerves, enjoying your taste, the way your legs close around his head.

Wants to make sure you can feel him even after he pulls out, so he sits up and holds you close to, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other while he thrusts his cock inside you going from slow to fast, alternating between the two to always keep you guessing, keep you close.

Kaveh loves how needy you are for his touch, his body, his cock, his cum. It does wonders for his ego when he's already so close to you yet you try to pull him even closer, when your pussy just doesn't want to let him pull out and keeps itself tight around his cock until he comes.

Likes to deny you a little too by pinning your wrists above your head and taunting you by moving away, letting just the cockhead stay inside, trying not to touch you, letting the cum that's already inside you flow before scooping it up on his fingers and smearing it on the outside of your pussy.

Beg him to take you, to be with you, tell him how much you want him, he wants to hear it, the desperation and lust in your voice. Ah, there it is that look on your face, on the verge of crying, there are those words, falling from your lips. Good girl, good girl, you can relax now, he'll embrace you, he'll fuck you until every part of your mind and body knows you belong to him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin smut #genshin scenarios #al haitham smut #kaveh smut

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ginnsbaker · 8 months

Text

Bulletproof (6/10)

Part Summary: It's three months after the attack on the compound and you lost your invincibility against bullets.

Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still UST, Still gay

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

The sound of the doorbell at “Café Lumière” reverberates around the room, your heart reacting before your head can even register it. It's the softest of sounds, but it pulls you like a siren's song. Every fiber of your being is acutely aware of that door, with both trepidation and hope hinging on its every swing.

Steam curls up from the frothing milk, whispering past your fingertips as they work on a delicate latte art. Your focus is unwavering, yet as the door chimes again, your heart skips. You risk a glance, your hope suspended for that split second, only to crash back down when it's not her.

Louisa's eyes, which have been watching you mischievously for some time now, find yours.

“Clock's ticking,” she teases, nodding toward the ornate clock hanging precariously on the wall. “Not 3pm yet.”

You feign confusion, but your playful smirk gives you away. “What are you going on about?”

She grins knowingly. “Your weekly muse isn't due for another... oh, ten minutes or so?”

An exaggerated sigh escapes your lips, the warm notes of roasted beans surrounding you like a comforting embrace.

“I'm not waiting for her, you know,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction.

Louisa smirks and pats your shoulder, “Sure, sure. Just give it time. She's never missed a Thursday, has she?”

As you're about to come up with a clever retort, a sharp sting on your finger draws your attention. You wince, looking down to see a thin, red line forming across your finger. Tearing the receipt from the register to hand to the awaiting customer, you’re slightly taken aback at how much the cut bleeds.

“Everything alright?” the customer asks, noticing the blood.

"Yeah, just a small paper cut," you dismiss, trying to downplay it. Grabbing a napkin, you press it against the cut, soaking up the crimson liquid.

Louisa's sharp eyes don't miss a beat. "Careful there. Those can be nasty," she comments, retrieving the first-aid kit from under the counter.

Louisa holds out a bandage, but you shake your head, not wanting to make a fuss over something so minor. “Really, I'm good,” you assure her.

A few seconds later, you open the napkin to check the cut. To your surprise, the skin seems perfectly whole, as if it had never been broken in the first place. You flex your finger, the earlier sting now a distant memory. “See? I'm fine,” you declare, shrugging.

Louisa tilts her head, narrowing her eyes in astonishment. “That healed incredibly fast. You sure you're okay?”

You chuckle, deciding to make light of the situation. “What can I say? Maybe I have superpowers.”

A soft clearing of the throat interrupts the moment. The customer, who you hadn't realized was keenly observing the entire exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Can I get some napkins, please?”

Flustered, you quickly hand a bunch over. “Of course, sorry about that.”

Louisa grins at you mischievously as the customer leaves, “Superpowers, huh? That's a new one.”

The doorbell rings out, pulling your attention instantly. You lift your gaze, hope surging momentarily, only to see the same customer making her way out. The door gently shuts behind them, the anticipation that had built up inside you deflating.

Louisa, noticing the brief flicker of disappointment in your eyes, nudges you playfully. “Don't look so down,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “She’ll be here. You know how punctual she is. Maybe she's just running a bit late today.”

You give a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I wonder though why she never gives her name,” Louisa muses.

“Hm?”

“You know, for the cup,” she clarifies.

You shrug. “Some people love their privacy, I guess.”

Hours seem to stretch endlessly, the weight of the clock's hands growing heavier with each passing minute. The crowd in the café starts to thin as evening nears. Although the store is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, your shift only lasts until 8. And in the midst of the dwindling crowd, one spot remains unclaimed—the corner seat by the window, the one she always chooses.

She is the sole reason you continue working here despite your persistent restlessness. Pouring coffee for hundreds of customers daily never truly satisfies you, even when some tip generously. There's an inexplicable nagging feeling, suggesting this isn't where you belong or what you should be doing.

Yet, what anchors you between the register and the espresso machine is the girl who comes in every Thursday, late in the afternoon, always punctually, sometimes a few minutes early. It's disconcerting and exhilarating, this sudden shift of your universe tilting on its axis. You've never been one to believe in love at first sight or fated connections, but there’s something in the way she holds herself, something in her gaze that tugs at strings you didn’t even know existed.

But even if you can write the sweetest song or the most evocative poem about every titillating thing about her, it’s just a crush.

A crush that will lead to nothing. Not because you've attempted to ask her out or because she's already spoken for.

It's because your very existence is shrouded in uncertainty.

The past few months have been a jumble of rehab appointments, therapy sessions, and sleepless nights trying to piece together fragments of memories that always seem just out of reach. Surviving that near-fatal crash was a miracle in itself, but the loss of your past—it took away a part of who you were. Or who you're supposed to be.

Every day, you grapple with an identity you don’t recognize, yearning for some semblance of the person you once were. A glance at the reflection in the coffee machine shows a face still unfamiliar. Eyes that hold stories you can’t read, a curve of a smile that feels out of place. When people share anecdotes from their past or talk about family and childhood, all you can offer is a nod, a practiced smile, and a tightness in your chest that never truly fades.

And how could you possibly burden her with this emptiness?

The small apartment you return to every evening, given by a private charity, is filled with borrowed things and a life that doesn't truly feel like yours. They said you had no family, no one waiting or weeping for your recovery. Your recovery was overseen by faceless benefactors who, for some reason, deemed you worthy of a second chance. Yet, every evening as you unlock your door, you wonder if you truly deserved it.

The beautiful woman who steps into the coffee shop every Thursday, with her air of confidence and those captivating eyes, deserves more than what you currently are. More than this fractured self, teetering on the edge of self-discovery and despair.

What could you possibly offer her? Nights filled with stories of... nothingness? Days shadowed by the fear of not knowing who stares back at you in the mirror? She deserves someone who is rooted in memories, with stories to tell. Not this fragmented existence you live.

Perhaps it's safer this way, to admire her from a distance, to let her remain this source of hope and inspiration. A lighthouse guiding you through the stormiest nights. If you ever manage to find yourself again, then maybe, you'd take that chance.

Glancing at the clock again, it's 7:45 PM. Still no sign of her.

Dejectedly, you remove your apron and prepare to leave.

Wanda Maximoff blends into the bustling streets, the hood of her jacket pulled low over her face and her boots echoing a muffled cadence on the pavement. Dressed in tight denim and a nondescript hooded jacket, she hardly resembled one of the most powerful Avengers.

She mumbles a silent curse under her breath, glancing at her watch. She's late—later than she's ever been—and she hates it. Thursdays at the cafe are her only remaining connection to you.

She can see the cafe now, its warm light spilling out onto the street. She pushes the door and her eyes immediately scan the room, searching for that familiar face behind the counter. The disguise continues to work; to everyone, she’s just another customer. She doesn't draw the same attention here as she does in New York.

It’s North Carolina after all, and the town they put you in cares more about art than superheroes.

Louisa's attempt at nonchalance is commendable but slightly betrayed by the quick tightening of her lips and the slight flutter in her eyes. “Good evening,” she begins, voice as steady as she can manage. “Can I get you the usual today?”

Wanda's gaze, sharp and unyielding, remains locked on Louisa's face. “Where's Y/N?” she asks tersely.

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't share information about our staff's schedules.”

She pauses, letting the words settle before adding, “If you're looking to see Y/N, perhaps you can drop by tomorrow between 2 pm and 8 pm.”

“Oh,” Wanda mutters softly.

Vision, in his human disguise, comes up behind her. “Wanda, we should go,” he murmurs, attempting discretion, but Louisa catches his words nonetheless.

Wanda hesitates, her posture rigid. “I needed to see them, Vis,” her voice is laced with a quiet desperation, a yearning for something—or someone—lost.

“I know,” he replies softly. “But they aren’t here. And we can always go back tomorrow.”

“I just have a feeling,” Wanda says. “Maybe this time, they’ll—”

“You’ve had that feeling for weeks now, but nothing has changed.”

They've lowered their voices to whispers, forcing Louisa to strain her ears to catch the exchange between the two. Vision soon catches on to Louisa's subtle eavesdropping. Their conversation abruptly stops, and Wanda, a bit lost, looks up at him for an explanation. Vision subtly nods toward Louisa, signaling her presence.

Clearing his throat, Vision steps forward, deciding to divert attention. “A hibiscus tea, please,” he says.

Louisa, embarrassed at being indirectly called out, fumbles slightly before regaining her composure. “Of course. Name for the cup?”

“Victor,” Vision replies smoothly. With a nod, Louisa gets to work, while Vision takes a few steps to the side with Wanda, resuming their conversation in even lower tones.

Louisa sneaks occasional glances while pretending to be engrossed in her work. The two stand slightly apart, their conversation seeming both intimate and tense. Wanda's fingers fidget, wringing her hands, her lips moving quickly. Vision responds with a calming gesture, fingers grazing her forearm.

The steamer hisses as Louisa finishes the hibiscus tea, her curiosity deepening.

Setting the cup on the counter, she clears her throat. “Order for Victor!”

No reaction.

With a little more force, she calls again, “Hibiscus tea for Victor!”

Again, no response.

The cafe grows impatient, a soft buzz of conversation fills the air, and a few customers shoot curious glances at the duo.

“Victor!” Louisa exclaims, this time with a touch of impatience.

At this, Vision finally turns, the gentle hum of their conversation breaking. He approaches the counter, his blue eyes apologetic. “I'm sorry,” he says, taking the cup from her hands. “Thank you, Louisa.”

Louisa simply nods, her gaze flitting between the pair. As they head towards the exit, she can't help but wonder about the nature of their relationship with you and what has them so concerned.

Three months ago

“You can’t do this to them.”

Wanda's voice crackles with anger and a hint of desperation, her collected demeanor fraying at the edges. The holographic projections of the globe, pinpointing potential locations and glimpses of Y/N's impending new life, bathe Wanda's face in a cold blue light, each flicker taunting her with the reality of your imminent departure.

Flashbacks flicker behind Wanda's eyes, pulling her into that harrowing moment. She feels you in her arms again, your life seeping away between her fingers. She's surrounded by dust-covered streets, crumbling buildings, and the deafening silence after the explosion. Your blood, vibrant and so, so red, pooling at the ground beneath you, staining Wanda’s shoes. She's paralyzed, every second stretching into an eternity, every breath a labor.

She was so slow, so clouded by fear. Why didn't she act faster? Why didn't she see the signs? Could she have saved you?

It was Steve's voice that brought her back to reality. “Wanda! We need to move!” She barely registered the panic in his voice, the way he swiftly and gently took you from her, laying you on a makeshift stretcher.

Every moment after that feels like an agonizing irony to Wanda. She knows grief and loss intimately, but this... this is an entirely different kind of pain. The trauma of watching you battle death is only overshadowed by the realization that while you might physically be here, mentally, the person who risked their life for her twice has disappeared.

In the quiet spaces of her heart, she acknowledges a truth she's been running from: she's spent so long building walls, so long pushing away the vulnerability that came with connecting deeply with someone, out of fear. Fear of loss, of pain, of being too raw and open. With you, those walls had started to crumble, brick by brick, but not fast enough.

She wishes she could go back, to relive those moments with the knowledge she has now.

“You can't do this to them,” she murmurs again, the words more for herself than anyone else.

Steve stands across from her, hands on the table, his posture rigid yet his face betraying a deep sadness. “Wanda, it's not about what I want or what you want. It's protocol.”

Wanda's face contorts with anger, her voice rising, “Protocol? Y/N isn't some object to be managed! They have rights, feelings, memories—”

“Which they don't even remember!” Steve interjects, his rarely-seen frustration surfacing on this particular occasion.

“You can’t just... toss them into the world like they're yesterday's news, Steve,” Wanda hisses with barely-contained anger. They remain the lone figures in the meeting room after the team unanimously voted to craft a new identity for you, placing you in a secluded town, untouched by global news, let alone the cosmic battles waged galaxies away.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Wanda, it’s not about 'disposing' anyone. The protocol is clear. If a super loses their powers, they reintegrate. Y/N can't live in the compound because they no longer belong in this world of chaos and danger.”

“Because they're powerless?” Wanda’s eyes blaze. “Or because they're no longer of any use to the cause?”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve says, stepping closer to Wanda and meeting her gaze. “Y/N has lost their memory, they don’t remember any of this—any of us. Keeping them here would only confuse and possibly hurt them.”

“They just sacrificed everything for me. And now you want to push them aside because it's convenient?”

“No,” Steve replies, “Because they’ve done enough. They’ve given enough. Don’t you think they’ve earned the right to a peaceful life? The privilege of normalcy?”

Her green eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “All I’m saying, Steve, is that they should have the choice. And right now, we’re taking that away from them.”

“Your girlfriend showed up last night.”

You whip your head around to look at Louisa so quickly, it feels like you might've given yourself whiplash.

“Come again?”

Louisa grins, tying her apron around her waist with a knowing smirk. “You heard me. Your Thursday regular? Gorgeous, and those piercing green eyes? She came by looking for you after you left.”

Your eyes widen, heart racing. “That doesn’t mean she’s my... girlfriend.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Louisa teases, leaning in closer. “She seemed pretty keen on finding you. Even asked for you by name. Speaking of which... guess who found out her name?”

Your mouth opens in surprise. “Y-You did?”

Louisa nods, a smirk on her lips. “Wanda. Her name’s Wanda.”

“Wanda,” you repeat, savoring the name as it slips from your lips.

Putting a name to such an unforgettable face changes everything. But like so many things that have recently unfolded, you just don’t know the significance of it yet.

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