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dilfstarr · 17 days ago

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Connie x Zoro x black fem reader

꒰𝜗𝜚꒱a/n: ngl, not my best work but oh well. this could be read as a stand alone, but more of them are here.

꒰𝜗𝜚꒱warning: brat-ish!reader, poly relationship[m + f + m], oral[m], mean!zoro, softdom!connie, free use?, raw sex[zont zo it], hair pulling, spanking

The deafening roar of the lawnmower echoed throughout the spacious summer sky. His gloved hands pushed and pulled at the heavy machine to get the perfect vertical lawn stripes.

Connie is completely shirtless—tattoos of all shapes, sizes, and colors decorated his tanned back and chest. His torso glistened from sweat—shining brighter than the setting sun.

His black shorts were loosely fitted around his waist, and hung dangerously low from the weight of his phone in his pocket. He gave the neighborhood a full glimpse of his slightly wavy happy trail and almost what the trail led to. The navy Yankee cap he wore didn’t shade his face what so ever, as it was worn backwards. Taking a pause, he swiped his hand across his forehead to collect dripping sweat.

He’s been out there since you left, slaving under the blazing sun to tidy up the front lawn. Who would’ve thought that grass being overgrown by two centimeters was a violation? Fucking HOA.

He was finishing the last few rows before you pulled into the driveway wildly—almost taking the mailbox down with your wide turns.

Muffled music quits abruptly as you killed the car engine. Your eyes drift towards the glazed donut lookalike—if you weren’t in an acute state of panic, you’d definitely drool.

Aside from him being a whore for the whole world to see, Connie being outside when you arrived home was not on your bingo card. He was supposed to be inside, playing the game—being lazy on his day off.

How the fuck were you supposed to sneak numerous of bags out your car, and past your soldier of a boyfriend? You pondered in your vehicle for a plan B—heart racing erratically with every scenario, and possible outcome flowing throughout your brain.

Con lurked from a distance, rightfully concerned when your car door didn’t open as soon as you parked. Why would you want to sit in that hot ass car in the middle of summer? He watched you from his peripheral, but not for long as the sky turned a darker peach. Having to finish before nightfall, he continued his doings—dragging the ear-splitting cutting machine down the yard.

You pondered for a few more seconds before you settled on a solution; take the bags and race inside. Yes. Taking the opportunity, you put your plan into action.

Looking over one last time to make sure he’s truly not watching, you jump out of the vehicle and make a run for it towards the tail end. You pressed the key fob repeatedly like it would help open the trunk any faster. Three bags were hanging on your arms before plan: try to expeditiously take the mountains of shopping bags inside without your boyfriend seeing went….wrong.

You should’ve known better—you didn’t even hear the lawnmower shut off so how the hell did he get next to you so fast?

His hot body towered over you from behind. Panicking, you try to close the trunk but he prevented it, holding it open by his lonesome. The tote bags that you had in your possession fell lifeless across the concrete—spilling clothes over the driveway.

“Princess, you said you had a hair appointment. The fuck is all this?”

With his hand holding the door open, the other swam through the bags. He tugged at the handles—shifting them around forcefully to get a glimpse at the logos.

“I did have a hair appointment!” Your manicured finger pointed to your head to highlight your new hairstyle.

“Wanna see?”

You took a step backwards and gave a playful twirl—your copper colored boho braids curling flawlessly down your back. You kept your movements stiff as your scalp was still sore, but you hope he got the gist.

The scowl that sculpted his face was priceless—you obviously thought this was a joke. He stood up straight, watching you do that dumbass turn with his hand still kept the trunk open.

“Isn’t it soooo pretty? I think I should’ve gotten it longer. Whatcha think?”

“I think we said not to buy expensive shit without negotiatin’—specially’ splurgin’. But, I could be wrong.”

“…Right.”

The ends of your hair became a distraction—twirling in between your fingers. You couldn’t justify your actions with Con staring a hole through your skull so your eyes avoided his—focusing on the ends of your braids.

“How much did you spend princess?”

His grip on your trunk loosened before his hands fell to his sides. Knowing you didn’t respond well when you were talked to aggressively, his tone was flat. The time you took hesitating, was enough time for him to pick up the forgotten bags off of the driveway—throwing them carelessly back in the car.

You didn’t need another HOA complaint.

The sound of your pet name gave you reassurance—he couldn’t be that mad. Rocking on your heels, you find your voice. You hesitate before replying in a mere whisper, “About….fiiivve..hundred.”

His eyes widened drastically.

“How the hell did you spend five hundred fuckin’ dollars in under four hours? You were told specifically not to stop anywhere—to get your hair done and come straight back home.”

To further emphasize his seriousness, he used his hands to direct his words. His yelling wasn’t as loud as it was in a hushed whisper. You avoided his gaze as he lectured you. Since you were clearly in the wrong, it was best to keep your responses to a minimum.

“…My bad”

“How-” His tone came off harsher than he intended, so he gave himself a deep breath before restarting more calmly. “How did this happen?”

During your hair appointment, Pinterest was your best friend. You browsed throughout the whole session, looking for outfit inspo for your new hairstyle. Knowing how online shopping is with the misleading sizes and overpriced shipping, you decided to stop at the mall to see if you could potentially find dupes. Safe to say you found that and more.

Explaining yourself only made things worse so you didn’t even know why he asked. His face was frozen in annoyance. Whenever they gave you an inch, you couldn’t wait to make it a two miles. That’s why they are hesitant to hand over their card in the first place—especially when you’re unsupervised.

His fingers pitched at the bridge of his sweaty nose while the other one sat comfortably on his hip.

“Y’know I’m gonna tell Pa, right?”

“Huh?”

Your heart dropped to your baby pink painted toenails—eyes growing in panic. Connie was always lenient with you. Letting you go with a warning—at most, a slap on the wrist. It was Zoro that put fear in your heart. He was ruthless, mean, assertive.

“If you can Huh, you can hear.”

“Wha- why? Con, can’t this stay between us? Please?”

You pleaded hysterically for him to consider leaving the third party out—even throwing in the pout that melts his heart. While you tried to bargain, his face twisted in confusion. His hands dropped from his nose—did you just ask why?

“Why? Because you spent five hundred dollars on bullshit. Then you were tryin’ to sneak that shit past me. No, it can’t stay between us princess. Sorry.”

If he was sorry, he would keep it between you two.

“Con…daddy please. I can take it back. I promise.”

“It’s the principle.”

You know you weren’t getting past him when he no longer used your pet name, but your actual name. Your words died down in your throat when you realized he wasn’t changing his mind. Doe eyes found the curly ends of your hair—this time with much more sadness.

He sighed, heavy hands placed your slouched shoulders—trying to reassure you.

“I advise you go upstairs, and start stretchin’. Y’know Pa been annoyed since Sanji came back to work.

The boiling hot water splashed against his tensing muscles. His eyes were closed—chin pointed to the ceiling. Hot liquid splashed along his mile long scar than ran across his chest to his stomach.

Connie stood behind him—lathering up the dark blue loofa with Native eucalyptus mint body wash. He started off at Zoro’s left shoulder, then his right—rubbing tight weighted circles into his skin to wash the day away.

“Nothin’ too hard Pa. Y’know how she gets when you’re too rough.”

Con’s voice was low, but loud enough to hear over the running water. Zoro almost took it into consideration, before giving gave a sarcastic grunt, “Well she should’ve thought of that when she wanted to spend my money on stupid shit.”

Connie was now washing Zo’s full back. White soap suds littered across his back like albino sprinkles. He winced softly from his boyfriend scrubbing a little too hard against his skin.

“She still have all of the receipts. We can jus’ take it back.”

The loofa was handed to Zoro from behind so he could wash his front. Turning around to rinse the soap suds from his back, he faced Connie who had worry written all over his face.

“Nah, She can keep it. She just has to work for it. If she can disobey, she can take the consequences. You have to stop being so soft on her baby. She has you wrapped around her finger.”

When Zoro had his mind made up, it was difficult to persuade him, which led Springer to ultimately give in. Con agreed with a nod.

“Seventy dollars on fuckin’ makeup.” Zoro scoffed and shook his head in disbelief as he reminisced on the list of recipes. “That could’ve been dog food for Chopper. She better be lucky Connie, I swear.”

“Well, when we’re done with her, I bet she’ll think twice before doin’ this shit again.”

Your cheek was planted—no, squashed, against the brick wall you called Zoro’s stomach. His legs were spread wide so you were somewhat comfortable on top of him.

The abandoned cock that’s drenched in your spit throbbed against your hardened nipple and lower neck. Drool seeped out of your gaped lips—pooling onto Zoro’s abs.

“D-daddy! S’too..mu—ch!”

Your moaned words sounded so pathetic against his skin. Zoro gave a hearty laugh, causing your head to lightly dribble on his abdomen.

“Don’t start that whinin’ shit mama, we barely started.”

In an effort to comfort you, his rough hand caressed your head—shifting any braids that could potentially get coated in spit.

You wish you could stop whining, but the raging thrust given to you by Con, made it impossible to please Zoro without taking breaks in between to mewl. Your body rocked forcefully—up and down Zo’s hard abs. Manicured fingers were balled up tightly next Zoro’s hips—not moving an inch, as one of your punishments of the night were no touching.

Your cream colored juices coated Con’s length completely—with a prominent white ring circling at the base. He watched in amazement at how your pussy hugged him every time he pulled back; those kegel exercises are doing you justice.

Once he noticed the insane grip of your tight cunt, he also noticed how much more wet you became overtime—gosh he loved how you get so turned on while giving head.

He made the mistake of looking up—finding your pleading doe eyes already looking at him. You looked confused as your eyebrows were turned upward. Your bottom lip was dripping with saliva, with a thin web connecting to Zoro’s twitching shaft.

Speaking of Zoro, his gaze was also on Connie. His plump bottom lip was wet from it previously being tucked between his teeth. With his eyes low with and filled with lust, he gave a nod of encouragement to his buzzed cut boyfriend.

Oh fuck.

One, two, three throbs to his dick before he slowed down to a stop. He needed some type of distraction to keep him from nutting so soon, and since you were being punished, he had to go to the next best thing.

“I need—fuck! I need a kiss Zo!”

Connie was breathless as he spoke. Beads of sweat formed on the hairline of his green buzzcut. He had a death grip on your hips to prevent you from throwing back ass he couldn’t catch at the moment.

“C’mere then. I can’t move—mama’s on me.”

He gave a quick nod of understanding. The feeling of him pushing his cock all the way in to reach Zoro had your mouth held ajar—speechless at first, before a particularly long deep moan left your lips.

“Fuuuh—Da..ddy! S’deep!”

Your body was now trapped between a rock and a hard place as they made out. From what you heard, the kiss was sloppy. Their tongues swirled around as they explored each other’s mouths. The sound of lips smacking, groaning, and heavy breathing filled the stuffy bedroom. At some point, Connie’s hand tangled in Zoro’s hair and gave it a tug—earning a groan from the sudden pain.

You felt Zo’s hips rock against your chest—becoming needer for some kind of stimulation. Connie stayed parked deep inside you, with his hand gripping your hip, preventing you of any movement. You began to mewl slightly—rocking your hips side to side with the little space you had, to relieve some pressure.

“Mmgghfuuck!”

Airy cussing was moaned into Zoro’s open mouth. Hearing his boyfriend mewl caused his dick to twitch more frequently against your chest.

“You sound so sexy, Con.”

His praise was followed by a quick smack to Con’s ass which led him to push his hips further into you.

“I caaaan’t any—more!”

Your thighs began to shake from the overwhelming pressure of his cock being so deep—Zoro was the first to point it out.

“She’s shakin’ baby. You feel it?” He whispered words were spoken against his boyfriend’s lips.

Connie nodded. “Course I do. S-she’s squeezin’ the fuck outta me.”

Zoro gave a breathless laugh—concluding his kiss with a bite to his boyfriend’s bottom lip as he pulled away.

Your back became cooler and lighter once Connie is no longer putting his weight on it. He pulls out a smidge and you’re are able to catch your breath for a second. In the midst of you collecting yourself, a sharp stinging pain occurs in the middle of your head.

Zoro took a handful of your freshly done braids in a makeshift ponytail to lift your head up. A loud yelp left your lips before you were suddenly muffled by his spit covered dick being lodged back down your throat.

“Juuuuust like t-thaaat mama. Don’t forget about Pa now.”

You moaned around his cock head—sending vibrations to his core, causing him to tense up under you. He whispered cusses into the air as he rolled your head in half circles.

He planted his feet on the bed and picked up the pace—using your wet mouth as his personal fleshlight. Zo’s thrusts were the alternative of his buzz cut boyfriend’s. When Con pulled out, Zoro touched your esophagus—when Zoro pulled out, Con was kissing your cervix.

You were just being used.

And It felt like they were on cloud nine.

At one point, he took his spit soaked dick and slapped it against your twitching tongue—plat plat plat before he’s pushing his way back down your tight warm throat.

“You suck better w-when you know you’re in trouble. Shit!”

His balls slapped tapped against your awaiting tongue as you stuck it out when he throat fucked you. Your hands ran up his thighs before giving it a squeeze. You know he said no touching, but he was so far gone he didn’t even notice.

After Connie’s mini break session, he was back at it like a crack addict. Mirroring his boyfriend, Con’s foot was also planted on the bed. His eyes were low and focused on the beautiful man in front of him. A telepathic conversation happened between the couple, causing both of them to grin. Unbeknownst to you, they had one last trick up their sleeve.

They both pull out of you— then the feeling of Con easing his full length completely inside of you made you cry out once more. Zoro let you have your moment, before pushing himself in the deeps of your throat. They both held their positions and waited.

“She’s s’fuckin tight right now.”

“M’gonna nuuut pa!”

You unintentionally started to squeeze around them simultaneously—not only were you contracting your throat muscles with each gag, but the rhythmic pulsating walls brought them both to higher peaks.

Could you guess who got there first?

ʚɞ

#x black reader #anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie smut #aot connie #zoro x black reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece x black!reader

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empathicliar · 6 months ago

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⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀what you deserve ¸.•* eren yeager.

𝟔𝐤. 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 , 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝.

༺❀༻ || 𝐬𝟒!eren , 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫!eren , 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤!eren , college ua , for my caramel babies , eager!eren , she / her pronouns , overstimulation , sweet talker , lots of kisses , multiple orgasm's , strangers to lovas , plot based , no protection , cream pie!! >~< , dirty talk , use of pet names.

" when you put a lil' umph in it, that's when i lose control. "

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

there's only so much you can handle in a day's worth before overstimulation kicks in. rocking in a chair for four hours while getting a new row of ginger bundles sewed in by your auntie is already enough. gossiping about how your uncle is a piece of work can get added to that list too.

the white juicy couture track suit you have on is hugging your curves tighter than normal. you have ymir's 'friend' historia to thank for that. you'd only spoken to her once about how loose your tracksuits were and how badly you wanted them tighter and she got to work, completely redoing the threading to boost your ego a little to much.

eager with your hair to be done, you'd already marked a couple of other errands off the list. your fingers nails are coded with medium length cut-out shaped nails. a white base with some carnation pink painted bows. not wanting it to be to basic, you got some pink and white zebra stripes on your middle and pinky fingers.

your white painted toe-nails are covered by the ugg's you had to throw on due to the weather. you were always saying you hated summer until it wasn't around anymore and the cold had you shivering in the warmest of places.

its something about looking, feeling and smelling good that has you obsessed with yourself all over again. the vanilla scent is leaking off every surface of your body, the oil drops in your purse coming in clutch every time you wanted a refresher.

it's about four pm when your hair appointment is done. its something simple you could always deal with. 18 , 22 , 24 inch hair reaching your plush ass, your back already itching from the prickling nest.

" thank you s'much auntie! " you're exclaiming in her ear, already squeezing her to death with a hug.

you're not even close to being done. this winter break is going to be different. you naively figured you could get everything you wanted done while in college, yet when you finally touched the grounds it's like your shoulders slumped further down into a unforgivable pattern.

you stopped taking care of yourself mentally. you never stopped being a pretty bitch, nothing stops that. you got all the main things done. your hair was always styled, you don't play that. you're always soft and buttery smooth. the pet peeve for any hair on your body making you cringe.

you were always smelling good, it just became apparent you weren't going out of your way to take enough time for everything. by the time five rolls around, your sitting on your phone outside of your homegirl's house, waiting for her to get home.

mirrors by jhene aiko is playing softly in the back, your tinted windows are up and the bag of chick-fil-a nuggies are half eaten to your right. being your passy princess until further notice.

it doesn't take long for nicki to get to her place. she has big shopping bags in her hands, big balling on one of these cold ass afternoons. " you have a key to my house, you could've went in. " nicki reminds you, it slipped your mind completely. you glance at the hello kitty charm that hung in-front of your key fob, your dorm room key and her house key.

the long, black table you'd laid on more time's than your own bed has a ring light above it. a strollie with different lash things you'd never taken a hobby to is on the right side of it and the actually bundle set you asked for sits beside a bottle of water. eating the rest of your nuggets while nicki took a few bites of her salad, you both talked for God knows how long.

it's been a while since you've been in this cozy place. the apartment is on the first floor and in a gated community. you were so proud of nicki, she kept her word on making it big in life.

" you still going to ymir's tonight? " she asking while scratching the top layer of your lashes. wrong decision. it's like talking through an intense orgasm. your grabbing her hand to stop her to reply. she's only laughing at you the whole time.

" y-yeah girl i am. " your muttering out, your own laugh pouncing off the walls. nicki is a pro when it comes to getting you up and out of her chair satisfied. she snaps a video of the lashes and your making a fake brave face the whole time trying not to chuckle from the silence.

your in your car again by seven o'clock. playing with your hair in your review mirror, tucking the strands behind your ear and letting the multiple fans in your car fully dry your lashes. the song is back to playing at it's last pause while you move your lid's up in a uncomfortable position and let the air hit the base of your water lines.

you've driven to ymir's place so many times from nicki's house, you've gotten familiar with every back road, speed bump and pothole. the potholes brings back a awful memory of damage you wanted no part of remembering.

the weekend commute of straight peace was in motion. you got to ymir's house later than usually and took a joyful stride to your favorite love seat. the comfort makes you stifle a moan. you've done to much today to not get a break.

a song from ymir's recycled playlist is playing, it might be from sza's new album but you aren't to entirely sure. the only thing on your mind is food and weed. in the middle of the table there's snacks. cheddar popcorn, cherry bite twizzlers, some sour gummies and gushers. you opted on the popcorn and two packs of gushers.

on the back, light tan wall is a flat screen tv that's curved more towards you than it is connie and you finally correct your suspicions when you notice the name of the song and artist. i knew it, your thinking out with bunched up arms.

its seems like its been to long since you've been here and genuinely had time to stay.

since college had started in february, you branched out quickly when it came to friend groups. it wasn't a challenge when said friends had been around since high school. ymir, the brown haired girl with freckles and the nicest jaw line known to man offered you weed for exchanged of a pencil in junior year and connie, a surly boy with short, almost balding grey hair and a sleeve tattoo his mother didn't approve of just so happened to be next to you pouting from your win.

only a month into knowing them both, you were already coming to ymir's house and smoking like no tomorrow. connie tagging along some of the days, but he was mostly with his own group at the time. after high school, you figured this was going to be the time you all parted, saying ' i'll see you tomorrow bitch!' and never actually seeing them.

you were more than wrong when you realized you all had been planning to go the same paths.

those year's led up to these moments. now, every weekend ymir would host these little... parties or when it was strictly chill vibes and no one had the time or the energy to run around with don julio in each hand. she would host a small kickback. only inner friends only.

that consistent of you, ymir, connie's dumb ass, a girl named sasha, who connie knew in pre-school, sasha's close friend jean or john. you'd forgotten a little to quickly for your liking. they'd been coming around for months and last and least, jean's friend eren yeager.

eren's... alright. you don't have anything bad to say about the boy. he's always sweet enough to you but it seems like every time you want to engage in a conversation, its over shadowed by whatever else someone is saying. at the end of the day he's still a stranger you hadn't taken the full time to get to know. it's funny how many times you'd shared a blunt with him, lip's colliding yet never learned a single thing about him.

he has a attracting spirit. the kind you found hot to an extent. he's the type to wear strong fragrances to turn heads and its exactly what he does. that skunky scent of lavish soap and expensive cologne he seemed to never leave the house without was a dead give away he was in the area. he's always adorn in sweat pants and baggy shirt's that don't do him any justice.

you could tell he takes pride in his look, well he somewhat did at least. he always has this self-approving look on his face. his fingers are always decorated with silver rings that go well with the skeleton bone tattoo that paints from his left veiny hand to his shoulder.

it makes it hard not to look his direction when he makes such a grand entrance. he's a real eye catcher, a pretty boy you knew shouldn't be anywhere in your area. you don't do good with flirty looks and bed room eyes. they could lead you to a spare bedroom any fucking time.

" |⋆|, ghost face or michael myers? " ymir asks, breaking you out of your mini tundra.

" probably ghost face, he's so fuckable. " connie rolls his eyes, taking a big hit from the blunt he'd been preparing for minutes. the bud is covered in ashes' by the time he pulls away, heaps of smoke coming from his side of the room.

sasha, who got the second best seat in the house sat a few feet away from you. she giggles. " real recognizes real. " you nodded with a smirk and clapped her hand, the noise echo's in the spacious living room.

" you nigga's are just freaky, that's all it is. " you almost let a 'shut up connie.' fall from your lips but the front door opens. in walks the person who was always late. eren. he has his hands in these loose, black sweat-pant pockets, you don't have to see those daring fingers to know he has them covered with hard looking rings. the grey t'shirt he's wearing has a design on the front you cant really decipher.

" what's up yeager. " eren tilts his head up for a greeting and makes his way to connie. his plush lips twist into a confident simper as he daps the two guys up.

eren's speaking again, taking a glance at the table with half of the snacks missing and only two rolls left. " y'all couldnt wait on me? "

" you take forever. " you say, bringing a dark blanket to your chest. " so what? " eren replies with smugness, his green eyes peering at yours with pure coy. you only return it with your infamous eyeroll to kill his dreams.

'i hate a nigga that knows he's good looking. '

" you live the closest. " stating the obvious, eren plops down in the seat in between connie and jean, folding his arms over the back, man-spreading his clothed legs to get some more room. its like he knows you want to look at his every move. he's too damn fine for his own good.

it isn't long before he's changing his seating position and he's reaching at that brown wooden table for a pack of rolls and the weed grinder. he opens the black container – seeing connie left him enough for one blunt. he's taking his win quickly.

finger's making quick toil on folding the creases in, tongue slipping out to seal it. you're face is fuming when he brings the lighter to the end of the blunt and the light reflects on his face. he's so focused on the misty smoke and not wasting the little he has, he doesn't notice the gushing look he's getting from the woman across the room.

'did it just get hotter in here or something?' you take a glance to the thermostat next to the goldish rimmed painting hanging above your head. sixty-seven degrees and no showing of anything getting hotter anytime soon. you chew on your lip. its probably that thick ass blunt ymir made you. it has to be kicking in or something.

speaking of the freckle faced stoner, she walks back into the room, you hadn't even noticed she'd gotten up. she's empty handed, using one of her hands to swipe a strand of hair out of her face. " bro, can we start the movie? i'm tryna' hang out with historia later. "

sasha ooo's like a school girl, wiggling her pale, small fingers teasingly at ymir. " you're always with historiaaa~. " sasha has this silly smirk on her face and the brown skinned girl groans from it, flipping her middle finger in her direction.

usually it takes a while to pick a movie. by this time the weed is hitting all of them and blurring the limit for time. they would often scroll through the same list on netflix and not even realize it.

this time is a little different, ymir is in a real rush to get to this 'friend' of hers. she has the tiny roku remote in her fingers as she continuously flicker through the movies. she ultimately stops on a scary movie and clicks the screen. she sends a look around the room for any concerns then actually plays the movie.

before the credits have even started the pop of a chip bag is already sounding around the room and cheesy flavoring is flooding your senses. sasha's wincing with a pouty smile, not realizing how alerting the noise was.

the first scene is a white girl manually popping corn. the volume is low but the surround sound speakers ymir got installed almost a year ago make it seem much louder. it isn't long before that same girl is killed in front of a big front yard.

by the time the movie ends, everyone is pretty much out of it. heads leaning on arm rest's. the lighters have stopped clicking and the smell of weed isn't prominent as it used to be. you'd grown used to that cozy smell. the foggy room is actually clear for the first time in years.

wiping your eyes like a kid, then realizing you had on lashes. you curse underneath your breath. looking around the quiet room, sasha and jean are sleeping soundly. connie was sleep twenty minutes into the movie. you could hear his loud ass snores. ymir isn't even in the room anymore. the second the movie ended she was gone out the front door but not without giving you a loused side hug.

you figured you were the only one functioning correctly and tossed the blanket to the side. the cold sends chill's down your arms but you don't mind it. it feels sort of good. your painted feet hit the tiled floor with a small 'plap' sound and you glance around the room to make sure it hadn't woke anyone up.

" where you going' ? " jumping, the fabric of your white, zip up jacket is grasped. instead of consoling your fear, the mad-man laughs.

" stop laughing bro, i almost had a heart attack. " you pause, taking a breath. " thought yo ass was sleep. " you explain further, standing up fully and getting a good, well hazy look at eren. his phone light is on dim and he's barely bringing it up high enough to make it known he's awake.

both of his shoulders are pretty much in use by the two boys he's squished in between. instead of looking uncomfortable, it looks like he found slight comfort in them being next to him. it's leaving a smile on your face instead of a panicked frown.

he hum's, dropping the dark phone in his lap. " still didn't answer my question. " you tilt your head, thinking back to said question.

when it finally hits your scuzzy mind, you're letting out a soft 'oh!' " no where, well i don't know. i just want some fresh air. " you're falsely admitting, stretching your body to release any tension.

did you really need some fresh air or were the stirs from connie and jean making it known they could wake up and once again take away the little time you had to get to know eren? it's probably the bud thinking for you at this point.

" you can come with me. " turning on your heels, you almost miss the several groans from jean and connie from being pushed aside. " you that eager nigga? " questioning with the slightest amount of tease, he's right behind you in a heart beat.

" nah. " turning back to look at him, he's already looking at your back side with a smirk. his own limbs being stretched out. he slips on his slides and you didn't feel like putting on your boots, so you opted on stealing ymir's flip-flops she kept by the door.

you didn't really plan this far out. it has to be around eleven or so, your to high to drive home, you actually didn't need any air and you can already tell its cold as hell outside. it was just the perfect excuse to get out of that room and into a more private one with eren, no one was going to interrupt your mission.

men are so easy, your practically nodding to yourself. ymir's back door is opened and closed within seconds, the back porch is nicely clean except for a few leaves and dirt that you didn't really care about right now, you swiped some dirt off the second step and shuffled to the left to give him some room.

eren is sitting down on the first step soon after, without the hassle of wiping anything down. now, its quiet and cold, and there's really nothing to say or do when the wind is speaking.

" how long you been in shiganshina? " he asks after long periods of silence.

" my whole life. " your replying, low eyes blurry with the upcoming mist from the weather. " and you? "

" born and raised. " then its quiet again. your messing with your acrylic's , only looking up when a tree bristles loud enough to sound like it might fall.

" those are really pretty. " quirking your head up, it seemed like you're staring into a bottomless pit of beauty. eren's not even paying attention to anything but you and the way your skin is still so moist in such cold air.

its little details on his face you thought you'd already noticed before that have you feining. you squint your eyes. his nose is pierced on the right side. the actually dot isn't a dot like yours. its a silver star that's small but glance worthy when anyone see's it.

his hair looks so healthy, not only in the sun but also in the moonlight. you're kind of jealous of that. even in its normal state in that low back bun, you can tell he isn't using men's one-hundred in one. the wind casts a breeze in your direction, that's giving you another reminder. the soft smell of lemon and something sweet like pineapple's is hitting your nose. such different smells that go rewardingly well on him.

" gimme' your hand. " your obeying it without question, he chuckles at the haste and you dare to drag your hand away. " i'm playing pretty, i just want to see. "

" why? " asking nicely and still letting him slither those slender, tattooed fingers over your bedazzled nails, he's humming again and not answering your question now.

" hello? " rubbing his thumb over your knuckle gently, the calluses of his own has you quietly swallowing. he perks your hand up finally and actually looks at the nails now. " my bad, my mom does nails. " you frown, still not understanding what that has to do with him looking at your hands like a meal.

giving him a better show, you half curl your hand and lay it side ways in his own. your palms touching and forming heat you didn't know you needed to entirely bad. " so? " you mutter, not returning the eye contact you know he has on you.

" nothing, she could just do better than this. " he flaunting out, stretching those delicate fingers ever so slightly. you don't even realize he brings both of your hands down and resting them on his rough lap, you're to focused on the cute little gesture's he's making.

" you letting me meet your mommy already? " it was cute how he wanted to get his mom some new clients, he must be a momma's boy. eren's nodding instead of laughing though, replying with simplicity. " yeah. "

" what's up with you bro. " you chuckle. " i don't even know your birthday and your trying to let me meet your mom's- "

" march thirtieth. " cutting you off, you almost forgot you had even said anything about a birthday. your brain is realtering itself to remember that date when this high is over.

eren's not ashamed to look at the prize he wants. he's been plotting for fucking months and nothing is going to break him out of this. his low, emerald eyes are falling down the pattern of your silver zipper, falling into your lap. undressing those lacey panties he just knows you have on under those pants.

it has you shying away, wanting to turn around in your respectful seat. that's when it hits you. that grip on your hand wasn't from your other one. it's from his, unmoving and finally locking into those intimidatingly attractive eyes, your glancing at those wet lips he managed to always keep looking mushy.

you know they are the softest lips you'd ever feel. like pillows sent from heaven. you grip his hand, no longer just wanting to feel his sweaty palm, but those fingers- his fore arms, his strong shoulders. everywhere he'd allow you.

" eren... " encaging his fingers into a tight hold, he takes a quick look at his thigh. he isn't able to hide the side smile that's forming. you don't even know why you're calling his name, you just wanted him to say something with that slutty voice of his. – just acknowledge you in every way possible.

" yeah? " your beady eyes are watering from the constant pressure of wind and its becoming so fucking obvious you both don't want to be in the cold anymore.

" what are you trying to do? "

" you want me to be honest baby? " baby... that word has you dripping, squeezing your thighs together to take away that ache in your cunt. you nod. you can't find those confident words anywhere in sight. its hard to say men are easy when you're soaking just from being close to him.

" i wanna take you to a room and make you feel real good. " his head is cocking to the left and those eyes he kept on you are dropping lower. his hand twitches in your grasp and it doesn't take much to know he's putting you in eight different positions in his head.

" we don't even have to fuck, i just want to eat your pussy. "

your mouth lathers with saliva, and your standing up to entirely quick. eren is laughing behind you and your so horny you don't even tell him off. you don't care about the three people on the couch sleeping good. you want to take this pretty boy up on his offer.

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⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

folded up, knees to your chest. the air is hitting your warm pussy. your panting from the littlest touches to your body. plush form being demolished by the stronger man keeping you still. eren has his hands in the bottom creases of your knees, applying pressure that only gives you minimal lay away to move around.

your pussy is leaking on the sheets, all type's of fluid leaving a stain you didn't care for. he's mouthing on your cunt, his spit coating your pussy in a new layer of slick. eren kept his word. he didn't need to fuck you to feel good. he made that known when he took a long lick from your entrance to the top of your cunt in a slow strobe, whimpering hard.

" stop squirming baby. " he's muttering into your pussy, kissing your puffy clit. face full of your cum and arousal. he's so deep in between those legs he can barely breathe. his stubbled chin constantly coming in contact with your needy, waiting entrance.

you cant keep your hands from gripping at any and everything. your holding onto the spare room pillow, covering your face and mouth to keep the others from hearing the total mess you're steady becoming.

" nah, move that. " you don't listen, your voice pouty and muffled in the pillow. eren doesn't have time to play games with you, he's been doing that for months. he snatches the pillow away himself and throws it at the wall.

" i wanna hear you. fuck them. " your spasming on his tongue again before you can speak. weeps of moans falling on deaths door from the amount of pleasure happening on your pretty pussy. your hiccupping from the lack of air entering your lungs, to caught up on the way eren is twisting his tongue over your sensitive clit.

eren's been licking, flicking and sucking on your clit for almost a hour. he just can't get enough of you. you taste so sweet and tarty, its like a fucking desert he can only indulge in. anything your body is willingly to push out for him to taste he's sucking it up.

fucking his tongue in and out of your tight hole, eyes open the entire time to watch you come undone. your hair is sticking to your face, the ginger bringing the caramel out of your skin and aiding your beauty. he didn't think you could get any more sexier.

" fuck baby, " smacking your inner thigh, he gets a breather before he actually dies in the best way possible. " pussy to damn dangerous. " he's huffing and hitting those soft, thick thighs, wanting nothing more than to leave his marks on your skin.

your cute little face scrunches and yelps fill the room, his mouth falling back on those fat lips to get another sample, tasting that sweet juicy fruit. his jaw is hurting and damn near begging for it to end but he doesn't give a fuck. he wants to make you feel good, too good.

your to much of a pretty girl to not have someone in between these legs every day. " 'ren! " eren speeds up, ignoring those pleas. " 'ren, baby please. " you're begging, the knot in your stomach forming from the endless pleasure. you don't know if your begging because its too much or he's to damn good at this and you need to repay him somehow.

– between the base of your thighs being smacked and the vibration of eren moaning, a shock ascends throughout your body. cumming for the third time that night. stars are forming in the far corners of your eyes. it feels like eren has full control of your body. he's keeping you still with only two arms and smirking from how fucked out you already look.

your body is still twitching and it takes a army and every working limb you have to pull him off of you by his hair. he's raspy and to happy for someone who could've died from being to pussy drunk. your chest is heavy and it feels like you can finally inhale properly.

" my bad. " sheepishly apologizing, he plants a soft kiss to your abused clit and toothily smiles when you give him a death stare. gently bringing your knees from your squished chest down, he's kissing your sore knee-caps, wetly sucking on the frontal part of your thighs.

somethings bothering you heavily and its making your chest warm unnaturally seeing him care about every aspect of your body. " why are you taking care of me? "

" whatchu' talking about? "

" this. " you lazily point at his hands that sting a way into your pores. " you kissing on me like you love me and shit. "

" wouldn't go that far. " your rolling your red eyes again and dragging a hand down to your tummy, letting it rest for the time being. " this is mandatory though. you just fuck with the wrong boys. " you want to take it as a stray but actually process it. have you really been messing with guy's who didn't think to care for your body?

it has you recurring every misaligning person you let into your safe space and have a way with your figure. " hey, don't think about it " eren snaps in your face. " that's why i'm here, ima take care of you baby. promise. "

biting your lip, your pushing everything away because he asked you too and something about that foreign feeling doesn't feel to damn bad. you don't have it in you to talk or ask him for anything else, but you spread those legs of yours and beckon him to come here. how can he ever say no to you.

he's shuffling in-between you, applying his hand on one of the pillows next to your head. you stare into his alluring eyes, raking your hand from your own stomach to his. he's gulping, his adam's apple plumping with nerves.

" you wanna fuck me yeager? " he feels like a virgin when you speak like that. anxious and scared to disappoint, he's nodding, bring his head down to plant a soft kiss to your plump lips. just like you thought, they're so pulpy and flush. he kisses like butter, like a piece of bubble gum that's so slinky you almost want to swallow it.

the kiss is deepening with the mood, the fist in his hair is keeping him from cumming in his pants. he almost doesn't want to pull away but he can feel her dripping under him and there's only so much his dick can take before it's begging to be buried inside that soft cushion.

he's making quick work with his clothes. sitting on the balls of his feet, he's tugging his shirt over his head. the sight of his toned chest has you gawking. it's a good thing he only wore comfy clothing, you would've pounced on him the moment he walked into this house.

" take your time... " you joke, casting your surly eyes to the space below your plush tummy. tapping your nails on your stomach. he's already groaning from the sight. you didn't think he could get any faster, he's slipping out of pants and those tight boxers in second.

to say you were disappointed never crossed your mind. you're actually fucking nervous. he's thick, with a healthy pink tip and some inches that make you squeeze your stomach in.

" don't go getting scared on me pretty. " stroking his length, he's bringing your left leg up, kissing the base of your ankle sloppily. his dick is leaking with pre-cum, slouching his tip on your clit. you both let out a soft gasp.

the feeling is euphonic, sensitive clit being brought back to life with one little swipe. your grinding lightly on his tip and he's hissing from how wet she is. " yeah baby, mhmm... you know how to do it. " he praises, his teeth biting into his cheek.

" put it in 'ren. " lifting your hips, you get so close to pushing his dick in and he aids it, his brows knitting, mouth falling open when he aligns it right, sliding into your entrance with ease.

the moan's fall off the wall. he's stretching you so well. the pain almost feels too good. your mouth shaped into a 'o and your hands are fumbling for something new to grab. eren has his head draped down to watch him slip inside of that pussy that cant help but suck him in.

he's whimpering when you clench- moaning when you're folding your legs around him to push in deeper. it's like he can cum from this alone. you just hugging him in has him gapping.

" pussy to fuckin' wet, fuckkk. " he's groaning out in between deep thrusts, pace picking up fast as fuck for someone on the verge of tapping out. your body is following his orders, back arched with intent to make him feel good. eyes rolling from the captivity of his being.

its almost to much when he pushes in to deep, hips runting into your poor cunt like she hadn't been through enough. his tip is ramming into that gushy spot inside of you that has your brain shuttering to working. your mewling loud -- unable to form a single coherent word.

legs pulled tight to hold him in, cunt tightening on his dick making his steady thrust sloppy for mere seconds before he's back to putting in work. dainty fingers coming to rest on his v-line, not pushing but not letting him reach that spot that makes you go fucking crazy. he's silent with how bothered he is about that hand, he knows you're still sensitive and recovering from those heavenly orgasms, but he's to entuned to stop when he knows it'll make you feel so, so good.

" move it. " he's stating with attitude, you refuse to and he only slows down. you whine from the loss. your moaning his name pathetically, lifting your own hips to get that feeling back before its gone. he holds your supple hips down, leaning down to kiss and fondle with your brown nipples.

" e'ren, come on! "

" you gonna keep that fuckin' hand down? " you nod, panting, surprised you were even able to speak in the first place. he's returned that pace little by little, watching your fingers retreat to one of the blue pillows behind your back, eyes closed.

head hanging low, hair coming out of that bun from all the tugging, he almost looks like a greek status above you- one hand on your tummy, squishing it down to feel the cave his dick is making, the other bringing your left leg back to his lips, folding you – he's to caught up in how response you are to his touches.

propping your ankle on his shoulder, leaning down to look you dead in your watery eyes. you cant shy away from nothing now. he's thrusting in deep, pussy gushing all over the sheets and his length. eye's faltering when it comes to keeping that contact.

" i'm so close baby. " he's warning you and your nodding to agree with him, your arms lifting to his neck, dragging him down for a kiss. tongue lacing with his like second nature – eyes shut when that knot in your guts is on the verge of breaking and broken cries are falling in between the kiss.

" gonna cum in you baby, you don't mind that d-do you? " to head-struck, your nodding like a idiot in heat. that gives eren a new goal, he's stroking in like a wild animal, biting his lip so hard it bleeds when you squeeze him.

trying your hardest to keep your moans in, eren pushes in one last time and hits that blurry spot that renders you brain dead. your moaning, clawing on his v'line with that new set to keep him from moving. cunt completely spent and aching again when eren is painting your walls white.

the warm feeling only making it worse, now he cant move or you might regret it. eren's heaving, one hand on the headrest to puff out and rush in the smell of sex, vanilla and shea butter.

" fuckkk i gotta' get you a plan b asap. "

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

©𝙀𝙈𝙋𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙍 any sort of stealing or modifying is prohibited, mess with your momma not me.

#omg is that neemie? ✩#eren yeager #attack on titan #fanfic #blktumblr #anime #eren fanfiction #black reader #eren x reader #aot smut #eren x you #neemie's babies.#explore #university

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josephquinnswhore · 7 months ago

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where you go, I go - stalker joel miller x female reader AU.

summary: joel hasn’t been the same since ex his wife abandoned him and his daughter, but he’s been watching you for months.. you’re the perfect replacement.

word count: 1.1k

content warning: extreme stalking, harassment, unhealthy infatuation, murder, brief mention of potential kidnapping, unhealthy idealism, manipulation, gaslighting.

Today was really not the day for this, your complete lack of intolerance to bullshit had reached its capacity.

But this had been happening every attempt for the past week, a relatively new and frankly.. abruptly confusing issue.

The button on your key fob for your car makes the indicators flash orange each attempt to pry the boot open. With a click or the button, it’s supposed to open the boot automatically.

But your car doesn’t do that, no. It insists on a one armed wrestling match while you have to click the button simultaneously.

Thanks to Joel, the man that has been absolutely infatuated with you for months, since you’d hired them for a minor job, just a custom order bookshelf. Not something the men would typically accept but Joel was absolutely infatuated with you.

Since then he hadn’t ever been far from where you were. Even if that meant showing up to your house at night and sabotaging apart of your car.

It’s hot out. These Texan summers were no joke and with no breeze, the beads of sweat meticulously lined upon your forehead, not one inch of it wasn’t covered in sweat.

“Come on!” With a grunt of frustration, you attempt to wrestle the boot open again, pushing it down to try and get the latch unstuck.

He watches on as you struggle with the boot of your car for the third time this week alone, how you managed to live your life without a man to take care of you was a real mystery to him.

As amusing as it is to watch you struggle, he figures he needs to approach before some other man offers a helping hand. The last thing Joel needs is to bury another goddamn prick on your behalf. You should be thanking Joel, really.

But he understands, you don’t know. You’re vulnerable, completely none the wiser to the fact that a man that mowed your lawn once a fortnight, had managed to peep through your bathroom window and caught a glance of your bare skin while you were showering.

Unaware that anyone was watching you groan again in frustration, about ready to pull your hair out. “Why the hell is this happening to me today?!”

“Excuse me, miss?” A well recognised Southern, Texan accent calls out to you with a hint of amusement and curiosity. Turning around, the man was closer than you’d expected.

“You need something?” Perhaps you were snappier than you should’ve been, and he raises a singular eyebrow at you.

“I’m sorry. I just.. need help with this. Pain in the ass. I have cold stuff and it’s hot as shit out here!” You ramble incessantly to the man who just tilts his head.

As he steps forward. “Mind if I give it a try?”

“Good luck to you—“ before you could even finish the scornful sentence the boot was open.

“How did you do that?” Disbelief wavering in your tone.

He shrugs, folding his arms over his chest, the shirt tightens and the muscles in his arms bulge. A fitting distraction to keep your eyes away from the fact that he had just sneakily attached a tracking tab onto your car. Underneath the number plate.

Now, he already knew your home address. But he had to make sure that you weren’t seeing anyone.

You were certain he had caught you staring. “These older models have a few minor issues, I learnt that working on my own truck, I suppose.”

Now that were true. But he wouldn’t really tell you the reason he knew how to fix this particular issue.

“What’s your name anyway?”

He starts packing your groceries into the now open boot, a few bags in each hand at a time.

The veins in his forearms protrude out of the skin.

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

Once he’s finished packing your groceries away, he closes the boot. “Shouldn’t have no more issues with it.”

You raise a brow. “You’re not gonna ask my name?”

He doesn’t want to, because he already knows it.

He almost laughs, almost. “What is your name, miss?”

When you reply with your name, he doesn’t at all seem phased, which was odd. “You kinda look familiar, actually.”

He keeps a calm expression, looking around the carpark as he gives a warm smile. “I live around here. Do contracting for a lot of houses around town.”

He could’ve felt his gut drop in that moment, maybe you’d figured him out. Perhaps you were about to call him out on what he’s been doing, sneaking around your goddamn house at night, sabotaging the boot so that it wouldn’t open properly.

Perhaps if that were the worst case scenario, he would just have to whack you on the head and shove you into the boot of your little car and drive you to his house. Chain you up and explain that he’s not a bad guy, he just cares for you. No one else cares for you like he does.

Thankfully, it doesn't come to that, because you’re clueless, really. It’s sad to see that you don’t protect yourself. If Joel could get away with all of this unseen. Imagine the real creeps that would take advantage of you.

Joel had been creating all of these minor issues for you, so that you would perhaps seek him out if he happened to.. by chance.. be nearby.

Come to think of it, there was a white pickup that had some sort of business name on the side of it. Been around your street a few times this week, actually. Perhaps he’s got work in the area?

Ain’t really your business to ask though.

“Yeah, I suppose. Thanks anyway, for this.. I should get home now. Don’t want all the dairy and meat to spoil.”

By now you really should be leaving.. but you feel compelled to give the helpful man your number.

“Maybe I can thank you properly one day for lending a hand.”

You quickly scribble it down on the back of your long docket and hand it to him.

“I’ll contact you,” albeit a simple response, he vows to you.

He takes the half crumpled paper with your number and nods with a warm smile, watching you as you get into your car and thank him again through the window before driving off.

A grim smile on his wicked lips as he watches the car leave the parking lot, knowing that even now, as you left, he would know where you were.

Because where you were, Joel was always following close behind. He did, after all.. think you were perfect. The missing piece of the puzzle to his family. The right woman to give his daughter a caring, loving mother. And you—would be his wife. Joel was taking all the steps necessary to ensure it.

He would have he perfect family. He would have you.

Finally, with the number in hand, he was one step closer.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #stalker joel miller #stalker joel #stalker yandere #kinda obsessed with this #low key #look at him #joel miller au

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slttygeto · 6 months ago

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༉‧₊˚. episode 08: lost in the fire.

preview: " . . . Without a second glance, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot, his voice low and taunting. “I don’t feel guilt, doll.”

“I…” you cannot put into words how you feel, it feels as though you had swallowed your tongue and any smart retort you had prepared is thrown out of the window. Shuji notices the change in your expression, how you went from being incredibly affected by his words to nothing all of a sudden. There’s an emptiness behind your eyes as you nod at him. “You’re right.”

And then you were gone. ."

word count: 5,3k

content warning: nsfw warning! heavy smut, choking, biting, n!pple sucking, unprotected s/x, not enough foreplay, jealousy.

༉‧₊˚. note: happy new years :) starting 2025 with a new chapter! thank you to my amazing best friend @aurelianamu for being my beta reader and helping point out mistakes and things that needed serious editing! i am still on a hiatus, but enjoy reading. thank you!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

➜ MASTERLIST

Hanma openly admits his vocabulary isn’t exactly expansive, chalking it up to his teenage self choosing cigarettes over books, biker gangs over libraries and nasty fights over going to school. Only that he knows a couple of words, they’re still insufficient when he is facing this hurricane of emotions and fails to locate the heart of it. He can’t pull the plug on something that’s blurry, so he sits in his car and looks out of his window. The vehicle trembles in sync with the rhythm of his restless foot.

A tattooed hand goes up to his face, and he slides down his blouse cuff to stare at the watch adorning his wrist; 10:32PM. You had to be awake, right?

One would question why he couldn’t simply send you a message, and the truth is far more complicated than that suggestion. He can’t message you when he was the one who told you he doesn’t fuck you on your period. You were offended by his tone more than what he was implying, and told him and he quotes ‘to go fuck himself and never come back again’.

Now, this wasn’t the first time that the two of you had a petty argument, the earliest one Hanma can remember was of him saying he didn’t want to eat your homemade food because he thought soup was boring, and you had glared at him the whole night until he apologized with his head between your thighs. Or when you tried to insinuate that he was so much softer than you had thought, the night ended with tears streaming down your face as you gagged and choked on his cock.

The two of you didn’t know what communication was, sex seemed to be the solution to everything. Well, except for this time.

You were understandably hormonal when you texted him, asking if he could drop by and hang out with you for a couple of hours at the beginning of November. And him being an asshole, he made some poor joke about how ‘he doesn’t fuck women on their periods because they’ll get attached’ and the rest is history.

Hanma doesn’t think he fucked up that badly, but that wouldn’t explain the fifth cigarette he throws out of his car window as he glares daggers at your balcony door. You can’t keep ignoring him forever, it’s been ten days.

He mutters a sharp “fuck” under his breath as he swings the car door open, stepping out and locking it with a press of his key fob. His strides are long and confident as he reaches into the pocket of his suit pants for another cigarette. Shielding the flame with his hand, he lights it, the glow briefly illuminating his face before he tucks the cigarette between his index and middle finger. He ascends the stairs, smoke curling in his wake as he eyes the apartment doors one by one. Ironically, the one thing he had memorized beside the feeling of your hallway, was the smell of homemade food that emerged from beneath your doorway, a scent which was forever engraved at the forefront of his mind.

A familiar wooden door greets Hanma as he steps into the dimly lit hallway, and he braces himself for how many times he is going to knock to get you to open the door for him. The memory of you whisper-yelling at him to just get in flashes before his eyes and an amused smirk finds its way up his lips, but it’s immediately wiped off when the door suddenly swings open. Surprised, he takes a step back with furrowed eyebrows, hand reaching towards his gun holster out of instinct.

Then he hears it, the sound of high heels clicking against the tiles.

You step out of your apartment with your back facing Hanma, allowing him to scan your outfit for a brief moment. It was cold outside, so you were wearing an oversized, fluffy and warm jacket on top of what he believes to be a short dress, and the black stockings you had chosen for the night bring more attention to your legs. To match the aesthetic of the outfit, you chose to wear your knee high, black leather high heeled boots, adding a couple centimeters to your height. And to finish off the look, you had styled your hair in a way that Hanma could only describe as intoxicating. The perfume you were wearing was dizzying, and it only worsens when you turn around and Hanma sees you with a full face of makeup. The right amount of glitter, the sharp eyeliner, the mascara giving your face that doe-eyed look and finally, that lip combo.

Where the hell were you headed to?

The good thing about working in corporate jobs was the amount of birthday celebrations to look out to. You had at least two birthdays each month, and November was no exception. But to ensure that not every winter birthday is celebrated inside the company, a co-worker took it upon themselves to invite everyone to a club, and who were you to turn down the offer?

You hated being holed up in your apartment for too long, it made you feel claustrophobic and anxious, and you were getting sick of your balcony and the same boring view. The moment you step out, you get a whiff of cigarette smell and instantly, you realize who was behind you. Your movements are slow and careful as you lock your door, fix the scarf that’s wrapped around your neck to keep you warm then–you see him.

Hanma doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows twitch when you lock eyes with him, he can’t deny that the slight purse to your lips makes the coil in his stomach tighten, then your frown deepens.

“Smoking’s not allowed in the hallway,” you point out towards the cigarette bud hanging between his fingers.

“Where are you going?” he completely dismisses your statement, eyes scanning your outfit from head to toe for what feels like the hundredth time. He knows exactly what hides beneath those layers of clothing, he’s touched and felt and groped it so many times already–then why does it bother him that you’re dressed so prettily for an occasion?

You’re already fed up with him, your high heels clicking against the tiles as you walk past him and Hanma almost groans when he gets a whiff of your perfume. Fuck, why did he have to be so stupid?

“Whatever, don’t stay here for too long or else they’ll kick you out.” You announce as you call for the elevator, pressing the button as you put your keys in your handbag.

The tall man is quickly standing behind you. He knows why you’re ignoring him, but he doesn’t think it entirely justifies not answering him. “Did you not hear me?”

You scoff. “You’re saying that?”

“It’s different, I’m asking where you’re going–”

“And now I’m asking you to mind your own business?” you hear a ding and step onto the elevator, Hanma right behind you. “I’m a grown ass woman.”

“Never seen your grown ass outside at night.” How blunt.

“Oh right, because in the last two months when you’ve known me and rarely ever visited may I add, you’ve never seen me go outside after 8PM?”

You were bitter, that’s understandable, but that doesn’t explain completely avoiding his question, does it? He was only asking about your whereabouts so that he knows where to expect to see you!

And perhaps even follow you there.

Hanma bites his tongue at your words. He would never admit that you were right, or that he messed up by completely ignoring your phone calls and messages because you had told him that you were on your period. However, everyone makes mistakes and it’s what makes us human…

…or however that saying goes.

The elevator starts to go down, his golden eyes alternate between scanning the number shown in bold colors indicating the floor number and the screen of your phone. You were sending a text in a group chat, he could see the name of it–something about your company, and next to it was the word ‘birthday party!’. He’s thankful that he’s being sneaky enough to be able to look at what you were typing, however that doesn’t last when you finally notice that he has grown a little too quiet. You hide your phone in your chest.

“Can you not?” you hiss, voice laced with venom as you shoot him a glare over your shoulder.

“A colleague’s birthday?”

“What are you, twelve?” you furrow your eyebrows as you turn to face him fully. Even with high heels, you don’t reach his full height and you hate it. You hate that you are looking up at him, at his handsome face which you didn’t see for a full week, and you absolutely despise the way he is staring at you.

His eyes were devouring you, forcing you to think of anything but how you’ve made them roll to the back of his head countless times. You refuse to stare at his bulging arms, or how his hair was slightly disheveled from running a hand through it. Was he frustrated by his own actions? You hope he was, you hope he fisted his cock pathetically to the thought of you, that his whines were so loud it echoes in his empty apartment. You pray that a mission interrupted his alone time, and he had to finish off some guy he didn’t like with painful blue balls.

And you fervently and desperately hope that he cannot read your true thoughts.

“Add sixteen years to that,” he replies while bringing the cigarette to his lips, taking a whiff from the stick. He pulls his hand away, smirking when he notices the slight shift in your expression and it worsens when he blows smoke on your face.

“Stop that! I don’t want to smell like cigarettes when I get in the car!”

“Oh?” he tilts his head to the side, golden eyes locked with yours as he searches for another clue. “So you need a car to get there?”

“I would be crazy if I walked outside dressed like this.” you ignore his intense stare, masking your nervousness with annoyance as you pull out your phone again.

“Who’s driving you there?”

“None of your damn business.”

“An uber.” The elevator finally dings and you hurriedly step out of the cubicle, trying to get away from him as far as possible.

“Oh! We got ourselves a detective here!” you exclaim jokingly, the sound of high heels clicking against the tiles echoing in the empty hallway. “You should work for the FBI, has anyone ever told you that?”

Hanma ignores your comments, his strides long and purposeful as he walks right behind you. “You keep clutching your purse, it’s open so you can make sure that your credit card is there and your forgetful ass didn’t actually miss anything. You’ll stop getting anxious when you get into the car and pay the driver–”

“Stop that!” You finally turn around to stare at him, and the tall man has to stop himself from scooping you into his arms and fucking you against the nearest wall. You puff out your chest like a balloon ready to burst, a fragile show of dominance and anger, but you were clearly fed up and you couldn’t handle hearing his voice anymore.

“You think you can read me easily, you think using your little criminal tricks on me will get you off the hook, it doesn’t.” you get even closer to the man, a manicured finger poking at his chest with each syllable rolling off your tongue. “You think you’re the only one who can read me? Well, I’ll tell you what’s in front of me right now.”

Hanma remains unnervingly quiet, so you continue.

"I see a man who couldn’t keep his word if his life depended on it. Someone who drowns his guilt in cigarette smoke because facing it is too much to bear. A man so shaken by the idea of me living my life without catering to him that he’ll go as far as to ruin it for me, hoping to force a reaction out of me. Well, guess what? You won’t. So enjoy your misery and your frustration, because tonight? You won’t be getting anything from me"

The only sounds breaking the stillness of the moment were the occasional hum of passing cars outside the building, their distant echoes a sharp contrast to the suffocating quiet of the hallway. The air around you felt heavy as you struggled to catch your breath, your face was in flames. Your gaze flickered wildly over Shuji’s expression, desperate to find even the slightest crack, some hint that your words had gotten to him, that they had landed where they intended to.

But all you were met with was silence, dragging on until a scoff cut through the air and you felt your chest tightening.

Without a second glance, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot, his voice low and taunting. “I don’t feel guilt, doll.”

And then you were gone.

He doesn’t try to follow you, the sound of your high heels clicking against the concrete becomes a distant sound the farther you walk away and he stands near the entrance of the building with his hands buried in his pockets.

It was time to work.

—

“Where were you? We were looking for you!”

“Sorry! My cat threw up on the carpet and I had to clean it real quick,” you say with a wave of hands, looking around the crowded area with bright eyes. “Seems like the birthday girl is having fun!”

You see a flash of red hair on the dance floor, and chuckle when you notice the way she seemed to effortlessly become the center of attention. People were cheering her on, clapping and asking the DJ to change the song just to match her energy. Meanwhile, you decide to take off your coat and place it on the chair that a coworker had reserved for you.

You weren’t the type to go clubbing, years of being constantly guarded by your brothers had left you tense and uneasy under the flashing lights, but you envied those who did it so effortlessly. They wouldn’t look as awkward as you do.

That is until you feel a pair of eyes following your every move, and you are forced to look at them.

It was a coworker, someone you had grown comfortable around because of his kind gestures. He would offer to help you carry papers around even if you were going to take the elevator, and when you ran out of water or your favorite drink in the fridge, he would be the first to request a restock for you. He was a gentleman, one that didn’t know how to hide his attraction towards you.

And you didn’t seem to mind it, a woman could appreciate being treated nicely once in a while.

“Not going to join them?” He gestures towards the rest of your colleagues who seemed to be enjoying their time on the dance floor. You chuckle as you shake your head, leaning back in your seat.

“Dancing is not my thing,”

The man, whose name is Tomoya, takes this as an open invitation to sit across from you. He puts his elbows on the table as he leans forward, clearly invested in the conversation.

“Why? It’s just moving your body to the beat.”

You press your lips as you hum, leaning towards the brown haired man as you respond.“Hmmm, I’m not sure if I like that.”

“How about this, if I can change your mind, you–” he pauses as he points his finger at you, eyes glimmering with mischief. “--go on a date with me.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. “A date?”

“Yup.”

How do you explain this to a man you hardly speak to at work? How do you tell him that your life is already entangled with someone else–someone too deeply involved in your world to simply cut loose? The idea of going on a date with Tomoya doesn’t seem so bad, but the thought of facing Hanma, of telling him about the possibility that you want to end whatever it is you have, makes you hold your head in your hands.

“We’ll see.”

You’ll deal with it later.

The rhythm of the music reverberates through the air as you find yourself on the dance floor with your colleague, Tomoya, who seems to be enjoying himself far more than you. The bass is heavy, the lights flicker like a heartbeat, and for a moment, you can almost forget your reservations. His encouragement draws a timid smile from you, and despite your clumsy attempts to follow his lead, you eventually surrender to the music. The tension in your shoulders eases as your movements become less forced, and soon enough, you find yourself laughing and moving your body to the beat.

You walk through the crowd to greet the birthday girl, your grin bright and contagious as you ask if she’s having fun. Before long, Tomoya succeeds to reclaim your attention. His lips move, but it’s hard to hear anything with the loud music.

“What?” you call out, cupping your ear for emphasis.

With a smile, he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “I said, you look beautiful.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin at his words, and your face heats up. Your laughter quiets down as you shyly glance away, scanning the room for an escape from his intense gaze. That’s when you see him. A familiar figure near the bar freezes you in place. Your chest tightens, the world blurring as you focus on the tall man leaning casually against the counter.

“Are you okay?” Tomoya’s voice snaps you back, but your response is dismissive.

“Yeah, yeah,” you pat his shoulder with a forced smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Your steps quicken as you drag your feet through the crowd, each stride bringing more dread. Please don’t be him. Please. But as you approach him, there’s no denying it. That sharp grin, the cigarette dangling between his fingers–it’s him. Your hand finds his shoulder before you can stop yourself, and when he turns, you’re met with those golden eyes that seem to silently mock your surprise.

“Well, what a coincidence, doll,” Hanma drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Do you need something?”

“Excuse me,” you snap, your hand gripping his forearm as you pull him to his feet. “We need to talk.”

“Oh absolutely,” he smirks, letting you drag him past the sea of curious eyes. He seems far too entertained for your liking, his laughter barely contained as you shove open the door to the women’s bathroom.

The startled gasps and shrieks from the women inside only add to the dread you were feeling. You glance around apologetically, muttering a quick, “Sorry,” as they scurry out, a few of them shooting you knowing looks.

“Relationship emergency?” one asks before disappearing out the door.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, locking the door behind you.

“Are you insane?” you whirl around, glaring at Hanma as he leans casually against the sinks, an infuriating smirk painted across his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why? Did I ruin your little moment out there?” His tone is playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes your throat tighten and your mouth go dry. “Mad that I stopped you from almost fucking him?”

“Don’t you even start–”

“Or what?” His voice drops, low and dangerous, as he pushes off the sink and begins to close the distance between the two of you. The confidence in his stride makes your knees feel like jelly, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way he towers over you so easily. “Tell me, doll, is this why you didn’t want to tell me where you were going tonight? Were you afraid I’d show up and fuck up your little date with that fucker?”

“Don’t call him that,” you retort, though your voice wavers under his suffocating stare.

His eyebrows raise, mock surprise etched across his face. “Oh? Defending him now, are we?”

“I’m not defending him!” you argue, though the crack in your voice betrays you. Shit, you were a nervous mess. “He didn’t do anything to deserve your anger.”

Hanma chuckles, low and menacing. “Anger? Oh, doll, I’m not angry. Not with him, anyway.” His steps falter when he’s inches away from you, his body caging you against the door. “Because we both know he doesn’t mean shit to you, right?”

Your silence speaks louder than words, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs. “It’d crush him, wouldn’t it? If he knew why you’re so hesitant to go on a date with him.”

“I never said–” Your breath catches as his hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upward.

“So you do want to go on a date with him?” His golden eyes burn into yours, searching for something, though his grin never falters.

You gulp, your voice barely above a whisper. “...maybe.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, and you can’t stop the way your lips part instinctively. “You’re a liar,” he coos, his tone dripping with mock pity.

“Am not–”

A gasp is ripped from your body when you feel his knee push past your thigh, landing perfectly on your clothed cunt as he presses you further against the wall.

“Let’s try again,” he purrs, pressing his lips against your ear. “Do you want to go on a date with him?”

Your lips tremble as you throw your head back, and Shuji’s hand lands perfectly on your throat. He feels a piece of jewelry there, but he ignores it as he squeezes your neck gently, drawing a quiet moan out of you.

“I…” you start, unable to keep your eyes open as you feel your body burn up. The effect he had on you, the way it felt effortless to make a mess of you felt unfair. You gulp as you try to morph the lust in your gaze into anger. “I do.”

A pair of lips crash against yours almost immediately, and Hanma quickly catches as your knees give out on you at the impact. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss this–his lips, how roughly he handled your body whilst making sure that nothing hurt you, because you craved it more than anything else. So you kiss him, fervently moving your lips against his as your hands claw at his shoulders and back. You felt like a flower starved of sunlight, withering in the absence of warmth and connection.

Hanma couldn’t offer either, but his touch was enough to fill the void.

He pats your butt and you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist before sitting you on the sink. The marble is cold, sending a sharp chill against your skin but it quickly fades away when Hanma’s lips travel down your neck, then your exposed chest where your perfume hits his nostrils the hardest.

The tall man stands there, inhaling deeply as your scent washes over his senses, his eyes closing as he surrenders to its intoxicating pull. He notices the necklace, how it seems to be stuck to your skin even if it doesn’t match your attire and something coils in his stomach.

Without second thought, he sinks his teeth on the skin of your boob, a loud gasp ripping from your throat as your hand finds his hair.

“Not there–” You try to reason with him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead, he sinks his teeth into a different spot, watching as you throw your head back, your back arching in response, a wave of pleasure taking over.

If he could, he would tear that piece of jewelry from your body.

“Shuji,” the sound of his name slipping from your lips is a melodic drawl, intoxicating him like no drug ever could. An animalistic growl rumbles from the back of his throat as he pulls down the top of your dress, revealing your boobs. The cold air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, and your nipples instantly harden under the attention given to them.

He fervently licks and sucks on the buds, shoving his hands under your dress. You are lost in the pleasure, fingers digging in his scalp as he gently bites on your left nipple, his hand groping the other breast.

Then you hear a tearing sound, followed by a sudden chill, making you shiver as the coldness creeps in.

“Oh my god!” you scream in horror, instinctively trying to close your legs as you eye the ripped stockings. “Those were expensive you fucking asshole!”

“Fuck that,” your heart stills when you see him lean down, biting your inner thighs and salivating at the sight of your black thong. “I’ve got money.”

“Y-You’re not buying me a-anyth–ah!” you try to cover your mouth when you feel his head get shoved between your thighs, a wet tongue pressing against the fabric of your thong. And then, you hear a dark chuckle.

“You smell so fucking good. Did all that fighting turn you on?” he pulls away, his fingers playing with the straps of your thong. “Or did you fuck around hoping that I’d fuck the attitude out of ya?”

Stubborn yet looking for a good fuck, you respond breathlessly.“No.”

“No?” he tilts his head, a mocking expression on his face as he purses his lips. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?”

He sees you look down at your own lap, and bursts out laughing as he finally removes the fabric off of your body. “Ah, you’re so fucking adorable,” he moves away from the sink and starts to unbuckle his belt. You sit up on the sink to admire him as he frees his hardened cock, stroking it a couple of times before standing between your thighs. He notices your starstruck gaze, and a low chuckle rumbles from the back of his throat, as if amused by the effect he has on you.

“Cockdrunk already?”

“Shut up.” You pull him in for a kiss, your hand traveling down to line up his tip with your entrance. He parts his lips, but then you feel him smile against your mouth. You open your eyes to meet his gaze.

He watches with an amused grin as your jaw goes slack the moment he pushes himself inside, but it quickly fades away when the wetness of your pussy washes over his senses and he has to take a moment to ground himself.

He can’t cum too quickly, that would be pathetic.

Hanma doesn’t take long before starting to fuck you, slow and calculated thrusts quickly turn into hurried and sloppy ones when your pussy clamps down on him with each kiss he presses to your pulse. He feels his self control slipping through the cracks of his mind, and when he finally looks at your face again, he is reminded of why the two of you were fucking in the women’s bathroom.

With a clenched jaw and flared nostrils, his hand travels to the back of your head and he yanks it back.

“Thought we had an agreement doll,” he hisses through gritted teeth, barely able to keep his eyes open as he grips your hair. “I thought you knew that you couldn’t pull shit like that with me. But I bet you like it, huh? You love testing my limits–ah fuck!” you clamp down on him again when he hits that one spot that makes your eyes roll, the added friction of his crotch against your clit sending shivers down your spine as you arch your back.

“Oh my god!” you cry out, the burning in your scalp mixing with pleasure.

Hanma leans forward, pressing his lips against your cheek as he growls. “Answer me.”

Tears well in your eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him. He was everywhere–inside of you, touching you–and now it felt as though he was trying to invade your very thoughts. “Fuck, fuck Shuji please don’t stop, please–”

He continues to fuck you at the same angle, licking his fingers to rub your clit in messy circles.“You like getting on my nerves, don’t ya? Makes it more fun for me to fuck you stupid.”

“Oh!” You gasp at the stimulation, eyes widening as you try to look down at where the two of you meet. “Oh, right there!”

“I asked you a fucking question.”He spits out venomously, his grip tightening around your head, forcing your forehead to press against his as he holds you in place.

“Yes!” You cry out, not caring about how fucked out you must look. “Yes, yes I do! I love it, oh my god please don’t stop fucking me, please–”

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought–come on baby girl, get filthy with me.” Hanma grins triumphantly, but the pleasure starts to wash over him. “Make a mess on me, pretty girl. Use my cock, you know how to do that.”

He leans back, watching as you pathetically try to move your hips back and forth. After a few failed attempts, you break down in front of him.

“I c-can’t, I can’t!” You sob, your hips trembling and shaky. Hanma’s gaze locks onto yours, his dark eyes fixated on the tears streaming down your cheeks–the sight of you so fragile beneath him is enough to send him over the edge. “Please, please fuck me Shuji.”

“Fuck–” His hand wraps around your throat, fingers grazing your necklace as he captures it in the same motion, and then his hips find that same delicious pace. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing in the same dizzying motion that made you the loudest earlier, but instead he hears nothing.

You suddenly fall quiet as your body arches away from him and Hanma watches in awe as your hand shakily grips his forearm. The bathroom is filled with wet sounds of skin to skin, and then he feels something wet on his pants and a loud gasp painfully rips from the back of your throat.

“Oh shit!” His proud laughter dies down on his tongue as your pussy clenches on him, burying his face in your chest. He reaches his own orgasm after a couple of strokes, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own noises.

The two of you sit there in silence, with mostly you trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. You had never cum that hard before, not with a man at least, and your face burns with the realization that you squirted on him.

“Oh no, how am I going to clean that?” you don’t even notice that Shuji’s pants are soiled as well, his cock still nestled in your pussy.

“I don't pay cleaners so I can grab a mop myself.”

“What?” you furrow your eyebrows as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“Did I not tell ya?”

“Huh?”

His voice dips lower as his grin stretches wider, “I own this club, doll.”

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

393 notes · View notes

kurooh · 9 months ago

Note

Thanks sweetie🥺🥺

Can't believe my boys don't have a birthday💀 ALSO, now I can't stop thinking about riding Ino in the backseat and hearing him whimpering🫣

🐺

⊹ ₊˚. TEST DRIVE. car shopping with ino goes in another direction when you’re looking around the backseat.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, fluff, cowgirl, car sex, ino’s whimpers, cockwarming, creampie

xoxo, juno. happy birthday again <33 🎉

“she runs well, don’t you think?” ino’s fingers squeeze your thigh as he takes the car down the road, cruising along smoothly. despite a few bumps in the asphalt, the car cushions them with a bounce so that neither of you feel it.

“this is a pretty nice car, babe,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat and savoring the view of the sunset through the tree leaves.

since your last shared car broke down, ino decided to take you shopping for a new one. he prefers the sports cars, and wanted to take one out for a test drive, but you’d told him absolutely not. knowing him, it would be easy to get carried away and then end up having to pay thousands after an accidental crash.

“do you like the color? we can always get it wrapped with your favorite,” he turns to you with a wink, beanie sagging on the back of his head while stray hairs hang around his forehead.

“always so thoughtful,” you laugh, “i think the fact that this car runs well is more important than the color. oh, wait, we didn’t look around at the trunk to see how much space it has.”

“shit, you’re right,” ino agrees, turning on his directional just before pulling off to the side of the road, tires sliding on a patch of grass. he unlocks his door but doesn’t unlock yours, making you roll your eyes.

“give me the keys—”

“ahem. you may step out now, m’lady.” before you know it, ino’s raced over to the passenger side to considerately open your door for you.

“come here,” you hold your arms out, jumping onto him happily, and he spins in a circle with a laugh. “ugh, you’re such a cutie.”

he giggles, his beanie slipping off the back of his head and onto the grass. you’re quick to pick it up and put it on your head, and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle.

“you’re almost rocking it better than me.”

“that would be a true statement if you didn’t use the word ‘almost’.”

ino hits a button on the key fob, effectively popping open the trunk for you to both look into. it’s spacious, with plenty of room for groceries or whatever else you may be driving around with.

“backseat,” you instruct, closing the trunk and opening the back doors. ino climbs in beside you, thoroughly impressed.

“well, well, well,” he strokes his chin with a finger, eyes closing in faux contemplation. “this is quite a nice backseat, wouldn’t you agree? it’s very roomy, in my opinion.”

“mmm, yeah,” you play along, laying down and resting your head on his thigh. “i can even lay down fully without being cramped. you should try it too, taku.”

“really now?” and you nod, sitting up and scooting over to where he’s sitting. ino lays back, knees bent just a little because you’re taking up some of the space.

“this is quite a nice backseat,” you both fight back your laughter, playing along with the dumb little scene. it’s clear you’re both thinking the same thing when the smiles fall from your faces the second you’re straddling his waist, squeezing him between your thighs.

“wow, hot stuff. look so good wearing my beanie.” his tone is playful as his hands squeeze your hips, making you roll your eyes as you lean forward.

“shut up and give me a kiss, taku.”

ino’s lips meet yours in an impatient, hungry kiss. the force behind it is practically bruising as he sneaks a few light bites to your lower lip to get you to open up. your lips part around a gasp as you start to bounce on his lap, feeling his hard cock through all the layers of clothes.

“s-shit,” he whines, back arching and lips pulling away from yours after a particularly hard drag of your hips against his. “baby, i want these off.” he tugs at your shorts, quickly shimmying out of his jeans and sweeping up the hem of his shirt to expose his belly.

“what do you want, hm?” you ask, shorts and panties off. your ass is up as you kiss at his belly, fingers sweeping beneath his waistband.

“uh, i-i want to be inside you,” ino swallows, fingernails digging into his palms as you slip off his boxers, exposing his hard cock to the air.

you giggle, blowing out some air on it, and he bites back a whimper, hips twisting. “doors are locked, right?” you ask, distracting him. he pulls out the key fob and fumbles with it, locking the doors and almost popping the trunk in his haste.

“calm down, taku,” and your voice is honeyed and sweet as you plant a hand on his stomach, slowly lowering yourself down onto his cock. the head nudges between your folds and grows sticky with a mix of precum and your own slick.

just a little grinding and kissing, and you’re both this desperate. it’s impressive, really, the way you’re already trembling and he’s biting marks into his lower lip as he wills himself not to cum yet. the beanie on your head combined with the way you’re panting as you rub your wet cunt along the length of his cock is too much.

“d-don’t,” ino huffs out, and you look up at him. “don’t start up with that damn teasing, please don’t. baby, i need you right here, right now.”

“patience,” you answer, swallowing at the sight of cars racing by from the corner of your eye.

“come on, i just want you to—” he cuts himself off with an embarrassed noise, throwing an arm over his eyes. “you know i don’t say this often, b-but, i want you to fuck me.”

“taku, you know i will,” you let out a breathy gasp as you sink down on his cock, moving so slowly that he’s forced to buck upwards. in one movement, his cock is fully sheathed inside you, wrapped by your twitching walls. his throat bobs as you start to move, eyes widening as he watches your pussy eagerly swallow his whole cock.

oh god, is it possible to get lightheaded from sex?

only thoughts of pleasure race through your empty head as you fuck yourself onto his cock, breath hitching each time his tip hits your cervix. he’s so deep, so big — the perfect size.

ino’s enchanted, tears building in his eyes as he watches the delicious bounce of your tits and savors every single moan that falls from your lips. your pussy’s so wet and warm, comforting in a way that nothing else could ever be — fuck, is he really about to cum this quickly?

you notice as his breathing grows frantic, heat rushing through your body at the prospect of him finishing this quickly; excitement chases it, the idea of overstimulating him electrifying. you’re squeezing around him like a vice, pussy eager to drink in everything he’s got, and it’s hard to hold on.

“babe, baby,” he huffs out, his voice tight. “kiss me, i want a kiss.”

ino’s hands help you lean forward, fingers digging into your sides as his lips mesh against yours. once again, a perfect fit — he’s so in love, so absolutely infatuated with you in every single way someone could be. the loose beanie slips forward, off your head, onto his face.

you giggle, pulling away to fix it; his lips drag along your cheek as you adjust it on his own head, hips pausing momentarily. he’s so cute like this — a flush high on his cheeks, eyes glassy, lips pulled into a pout as he waits for you to hurry up with his beanie. if you’re still busy with that thing in the next three seconds, ino swears he’ll throw it out the damn window.

“you okay?” you pant, hands falling away from his head and cupping his face.

“i was worried you’d take forever with that thing,” he confesses with a laugh, hips thrusting up. “still got the energy to ride me?”

“i’m just getting started,” you roll your eyes, picking up a quick pace and bouncing on his cock. it happens fast — within a minute, he’s as close as he was before, weakly rutting his hips upwards while you shove them down with your own.

ino’s fingers wander to your clit and he rubs sloppy circles on the sensitive nub, whining deliciously at your body’s immediate response.

“‘s good, taku, keep going,” he thinks his name sounds best when it’s coming from your mouth.

despite how overwhelmed he is, ino’s fingers don’t falter, and with his free hand he gestures for you to lean on top of him like earlier. he tucks his face into your neck, tears pouring down his cheeks and wetting your skin.

white hot pleasure races through your body, bolting between your legs like lightning. “t-takuma, baby,” you huff out, gasping into his skin as you squeeze around him frantically, “‘m gonna cum— want you to with me, please—”

a needy moan tears from your lips and his skin absorbs it, your hips stuttering against his with a few last smacks of skin against skin. before you know it, you’re cumming hard, barely able to hear his words over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

ino’s whimpering, shaking beneath you and sobbing out, “wanna fill you up, c-can i?”

every one of your senses is hazy, and you manage to nod against him, pressing your lips to his ear. “y-yes, ‘course you can.”

with that, his cock spurts white inside you, hot and thick and deep — for a moment, you wonder how long it’ll take to drip out of you. you’ll be able to keep it inside till you get to the dealership, won’t you?

“you okay?” you ask, body shifting and tearing a choked whine from his throat. “takuma?”

he exhales sharply, taking a second to answer you as he recovers, chest heaving beneath you. “yeah, i’m okay. hey, let’s turn over?” you oblige, ass pressed against him and cock still buried deep.

“we’re supposed to get this car back to the dealership, we can’t just sit on the side of the road—”

“yes we can,” ino hushes you, trailing kisses along your jaw before moving to your neck. “let’s just wait for a while and cuddle. also, i’m kinda cold and you’re warm.”

“how could you possibly be cold after full on sex?”

“i have no idea, but it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“five minutes,” you say matter of factly, although you curl up against him comfortably. “then we have to go.”

“yeah, yeah,” ino huffs.

later, you’re charged a ton of money for bringing back the car a few hours late. ino blames it on you for falling asleep against him and you blame it on him for enticing you to fall asleep by cuddling.

#kurooh #he’s a cutie i’d love to write more for him #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #ino takuma #ino x reader #jjk ino #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino smut #ino smut

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jellysmosh · 1 month ago

Text

I’ve Met Someone That Makes Me Feel Seasick

Summary: Why was it that every single time you saw your cute new neighbour you absolutely embarrassed yourself? Vaguely inspired by the song Kill the Director by The Wombats.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Tags: Fluff, neighbours, silly rom-com vibes

Word count: 4.9k

Note: Hi! I haven’t written fanfic for years and this is my first time writing something for Smosh, so please be gentle with me lol. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

☆

You were a retired hopeless romantic.

You were no longer big on romance. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in potentially dating in the future, you just were not really keen to date right now. For the past few years you’d gone through your fair share of weird talking stages and situationships that kept leaving you more drained and emptier than the last. Unfortunately, the single men in the current dating pool brought you nothing but disappointment with a side of psychological trauma.

It was after you broke things off with your last partner/situation/ball and chain that you decided that maybe a celibacy oath was the way to go. Not only did you catch him texting other girls on Instagram, they weren’t even replying to his desperate messages. Somehow the failed attempt to cheat was more disgusting to you than the actual act of cheating. The optimistic side of you chose to push through and sail past the red flags only to find this guy was just as awful as your friends predicted. That was your problem for most of your life: you were full of hope and second chances and unconditional love (which is dangerous without the critical thinking skills to go with it).

But no more! You have had enough of men stepping all over you. You were tired of being used for your love and attention and emotional support, and if that meant you were going to be single for the rest of your life, so be it! That beats spending it with some guy working in finance whose opening line on Tinder was ‘you tryna send pics or nah?’ Your single era started now.

☆

Anti-Romance Day 30 was looking good until it wasn’t.

It was a rainy Saturday with no plans, which meant staying holed up in your apartment and watching movies in your pyjamas. Against your better judgment, you selected a romantic comedy, carefully opening a bag of popcorn fresh out of the microwave as How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days started up on your television.

By the end of the film, you were choking on tears at the thought of your failed love life as Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey made out on screen. This was a mistake, nothing made you yearn for romantic company more than a sappy movie. You wanted to dramatically curse at the universe for making real life dating such a complete hellscape.

Was it even the men who were the problem here? What if you were just undateable? What if you were such an awful potential partner that you only attracted the weirdo freaks and all the good ones hit skip?

You shook your head to clear it.

There was no point thinking like that when you knew it wasn’t true. You were attentive and loving and communicated very well, all the ideal components of the perfect partner. Your cooking was… questionable, but you gave great hugs!

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone ringing.

It was your UberEats delivery man and he was pissed. Apparently the instructions you sent him to get to your apartment were too hard to understand, and you had to go down and meet him or he was going to drive away with your KFC family meal (don’t judge). In fear of losing your money and fried chicken, you practically flew out your apartment to retrieve your food from the lobby. Walking from the elevator back to your apartment, you make an earth shattering realisation, you forgot to grab your front door key before going to get your food.

A few things about this situation: your key fob to access the building and elevator were on your car keys (currently in hand), and your front door key was strapped to your bag (currently inside the apartment). Also, your apartment door was one of those heavy duty ones that automatically locked from the outside. To summarise: you were fucked.

“Shit!” You practically shouted, tightening your grip on the paper KFC bag, “fuuuck!”

“Uh, are you okay?”

You jumped in surprise. In all the chaos, you didn’t even notice that the door to the apartment next to yours was propped open and a man stood just inside the doorway, staring at you. He was holding a cardboard box with both hands, brown curls peeking out from under a baseball cap, wireframe glasses sitting in front of deep green eyes, and a confused expression on his face. He was so cute.

“Who are you?” You blurted out without thinking, your cheeks immediately flushing, “sorry, I mean- I thought Old Mr Chan lived here.”

“Oh, he moved out”, the stranger replied. He turned to place the box down on a nearby table before stepping out of the apartment. “My name is Spencer, I’m moving in today”, he held his hand out and you tentatively shook it with your free hand.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry about earlier”, you sighed, of course the first time you met your new neighbour was at a time like this. You were hyper aware of the fact that he probably watched you stand in the hallway cursing at your door while holding a giant KFC bag, hair greasy, in your Hello Kitty print pyjama pants, eyes obviously red from your little crying session a few minutes ago.

“No worries”, he smiled, oh god, his smile was beautiful. “I’m assuming you’re my neighbour?” He glanced at your asshole of a front door. “Why were you swearing at it?”

You sank even deeper into your embarrassment as you explained the situation to him. Talk about first impressions.

“Oh!” An idea popped into your head and Spencer looked at you expectantly. “What if I go through your apartment onto your fire escape and then like shimmy across to my window along the ledge-“

“What?” He exclaimed, eyebrows raised, “are you crazy? No way, that’s so dangerous. And are you sure your window’s unlocked?”

You paused.

“Yeah, you’re right… Do I really need to call a locksmith?” You scrunched up your nose. You could feel Spencer still looking at you and it made you extra self conscious. You knew you looked insane right now.

He hummed in thought. “The building manager was meant to come by in a bit to drop some stuff off for me, maybe you can ask him to help you out when he comes?”

You perked up a little, “yes! Sounds good!” You smiled at him despite yourself. You may have given a terrible first impression to your new neighbour, but at least you would probably get back inside your apartment today.

After some only slightly awkward small talk with Spencer, the building manager arrived and after explaining the whole mess, shot you a disappointed look and went to retrieve the spare key to your apartment.

“You’re a lifesaver”, you gushed to the building manager, offering him a now cold chicken tender which he rejected before grumpily entering the elevator. You were just happy your front door was now open, merrily sliding inside, you called out, “welcome to the building, Spencer!”

For a second, the sweet smile he showed you in response made you forget that you looked a mess and was just having an emotional breakdown. Your cheeks turned red as the door clicked shut.

☆

“Coming!” You yelled out, abandoning the dishes you were washing and jogging over to your front door after hearing the doorbell ring. You checked the peephole only to find Spencer standing there, hands in pockets, waiting.

You gulped. The situation where you were locked out with a big bag of fried chicken had happened a couple weeks ago and you hadn’t really spoken to Spencer since. You saw him only a couple times in the hall and you did not exchange much besides quiet ‘hello’s and nods of acknowledgment. You took a deep breath and swung the door open.

“Spencer! Hi!” You tried to smile like a normal person. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Y/N”, he looked at you with those pretty eyes and you silently thanked god you weren’t dressed in pyjamas this time. “Sorry to randomly pop over like this.”

“It’s fine”, you waved your hand, pretending to be nonchalant, “what can I help you with?”

“I’m totally being a bother but could I please borrow a couple eggs?” He sheepishly grinned, slightly rocking back and forth on his feet as if he was embarrassed this time, “I’m in the middle of cooking something and I didn’t realise I was out.”

“Sure”, you opened the door wider for him, “come in, I’ll go grab them for you.”

Now was it wise to let an almost stranger into your apartment? No. Was it neighbourly though? Kind of!

He thanked you before following you into your apartment. He even left his shoes at the door upon noticing all your shoes sitting on racks right next to it. You were flattered by his observance, it had been a while since a man with any kind of consideration of your habits and taste had been in your residence.

You led him to the kitchen.

“I’m certain I have some in the fridge”, you said over your shoulder, “I get through them pretty slowly.”

“Your place is really nice”, he complimented you while walking through the kitchen doorway. You glanced over at the mismatched chairs at your dining table and the clock on the wall painted to look like a pizza. You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Thanks…”, you murmured tentatively, “I don’t often hear that honestly-“

Your sentence got cut off when you slipped on the small puddle under your shitty kitchen sink left from when you were doing the dishes. You were midair just for a half second before landing on your butt.

“Oh my god”, Spencer rushed over to you, “are you alright?”

You groaned at the literal pain in your ass.

“Yep”, you choked out as if your tailbone wasn’t killing you, “just a little trip, I’m all good.”

He helped you up anyway, hands steady but touch soft. You felt yourself blushing at the contact, suddenly realising this was the first time he had touched you since your initial handshake. Once you were upright again, you turned your head toward him and felt your heart jump at how close he was to you. If you wanted to, you could have counted his eyelashes. You immediately broke eye contact and sped over to the fridge, this time making sure to step around the water on the floor.

“U-um, just two eggs, was it?” You shoved your face into your fridge, both checking how many eggs were in the carton and hoping the cold air would cool your face down.

You heard Spencer clear his throat after a pause, “yeah, yeah, just two.”

You handed him the eggs as he replied with a soft ‘thanks’, and on his way out he seemed to hesitate. Stopping halfway out the door, he turned to face you.

“Not that I was, like, purposely looking or anything”, he said quietly, eyes not meeting yours, “but I think when you slipped, you landed in the puddle because there’s a wet patch on the- uh… back of your jeans.”

You blankly stared at him.

“Just thought I should let you know before you sit down and make your couch wet or something”, he finally looked you in the eye again and he also seemed to flush when he saw your clear embarrassment.

“Thanks for letting me know”, your voice came out almost like a squeak. He nodded as he thanked you again for the eggs and scurried off back to his apartment next door.

Once your door shut again, you felt the back of your pants. Yup, your entire ass was wet.

Look on the bright side, you thought to yourself as you unzipped them so they could dry off of your body, at least he knew it was water and you didn’t have to convince him you didn’t pee your pants. You dryly chuckled to yourself as you stood in your underwear, hanging your jeans on a clothes rack.

No romance, you thought to yourself, don’t even let yourself think about it.

☆

“I really don’t know if we can fix it”, Spencer furrowed his brow. He was bent down next to you as your hands fumbled around the pipes under his sink with one hand and a wrench clasped in the other.

You two had been speaking to each other more since he saw you with a big wet patch on your ass. You had exchanged numbers in the elevator a few days after, Spencer claimed it was in case you got locked out again or he needed more eggs. Brief text conversations every now and then gave way to livelier elevator conversations and amicable chats in the hallway. You would consider him an almost-friend at this point and you were glad you were getting along well with him, despite you embarrassing yourself seemingly every single time you interacted.

And here you were, knelt down in his kitchen after texting back and forth about his sink no longer working.

“Have some faith”, you murmured, preoccupied with fiddling with a valve you located on the side of a pipe.

“Do you know anything about plumbing?” He asked incredulously, running a hand through his unruly hair. It was late Sunday morning, and he had clearly not styled it. Your heart rate had picked up when you saw him, in his sweatpants and messy bed head, it felt so intimate to see him not done up and ready to leave his house. You had ignored the thumping in your chest and followed him to the kitchen.

“Well… no”, you leaned back, grinning at him. That earned a loud laugh from him that caught you a bit off guard. Even his laugh was cute, that was so unfair. “But I think we can D.I.Y this, maybe we should check YouTube?” You stood up to grab your phone off the counter and he laughed again.

“You want to check YouTube?” His tone indicated he didn’t seem to take your suggestion seriously.

“What?” You were playfully defensive, “I go there for all kinds of tutorials, it’s great. I love YouTube!”

He got up to stand next to you, watching over your shoulder as you opened the app.

“Yeah, me too”, he muttered, “I kinda work there.”

“What?” You looked away from your screen to address him. He was closer than you realised, head hovering over your shoulder. You willed your heartbeat to slow down lest he heard it. “I didn’t know you worked at YouTube.”

“Well, not at YouTube. I work for a YouTube channel”, he pointed at your phone, “don’t worry about that right now, I’ll tell you about it later. Try finding something that will help us fix my sink please.”

He said he was going to tell you about it later. He wanted to talk to you later. You felt like you could float out the window and fly away. You pushed the feeling down and made sure your feet were solidly planted on the floor.

“Oh right”, you locked back in, searching for a video that looked helpful. After skimming through a few, you had a bit of an idea. “Okay, let’s try checking that thingy pipe and if that doesn’t work, we might need to do more research.”

“So technical”, Spencer replied, bemused. His eyes sparkled when he smiled.

“Well, if this fails, you can come over and use my kitchen while it gets fixed”, you tried your best to keep your tone level, as if the image of Spencer cooking in your kitchen didn’t make you giddy with excitement. “My sink works perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, I know”, Spencer laughed, referring to the last time he was there.

You looked away from him, flustered. You swung your wrench around a bit and headed back to the sink before he could notice. He watched as you bent down. You decided you probably needed to get as low as possible to find the pipe they were talking about in the video. You squatted down as deep as you could go and froze. A loud ripping noise stopped you in your tracks.

“Uh oh”, Spencer chimed from behind you and you didn’t dare to turn around to see his expression.

You closed your eyes. This couldn’t be happening. You were so sure today was going to go well, you had visions of hanging out with him and him being so impressed you could fix his sink. It was meant to be the start of your redemption arc. Well, it looked like things had headed in the opposite direction because you had just fucking ripped your pants like a cartoon character.

“There’s no way”, you whispered in disbelief, “there is absolutely no way that just happened.”

You slowly stood and turned to see Spencer leaning against the opposite counter, eyes on the ceiling.

“Oh, it definitely did”, he was so clearly trying to hold in his laughter. “I’m not looking so you can preserve your modesty.”

Your face was beet red, feeling the backside of the pair of old jeans that had failed you twice in the span of a couple weeks.

“Shit, did you see my underwear?”

“I don’t want to lie to you…”

“Spencer!”

“I’m sorry!” He put his hands up in surrender, failing to hold in his giggles now, “I didn’t mean to! How was I supposed to know you were planning on splitting your pants on my kitchen floor?”

You groaned in frustration, hands covering your crotch. He looked back down at you, hands still in the air. You stared at each other before you both burst into laughter. As embarrassed as you were, the situation was far too funny for you to take it seriously. You were both doubled over with tears in your eyes.

“You took playing plumber too literally”, he gasped out, “you showed crack and everything.”

“No, I did not!” You shouted, tears of laughter spilling down your face.

Once the hysteria passed, Spencer lent you a sweater to tie around your waist in case somebody in the hall saw you with your pants crotch split open.

“You should probably call the building manager”, you said to him as he walked you to his door, “I fear I’m not cut out to be a handyman.”

“Yeah, not really,” he said bluntly, but the smile on his face was wide.

“I’ll give your sweater back later today”, you stood just outside his door, he leaned against the doorframe.

“It’s okay, you can hold onto it for a while”, he replied. The softness in his voice made your stomach turn in a way that was both pleasant and upsetting. “I have to head out later and run some errands so I won’t be here.”

You had this urge to ask to hang out with him a little longer, to ask if you could come with him to run his errands, to prolong the time you spent with him as much as you could. He had this gravitational pull that made you want to stay in his orbit. But you knew that feeling well and it had gotten you tangled up in too many messes for you to count. You steadied your emotions again.

“No problem”, you shrugged, like it meant nothing to you that you had his sweater on you. “Thanks again!”

You waved as you side-stepped over to your own apartment. He lingered in the doorway for a little longer, watching you unlock your door. You could feel his eyes on you, you wondered if he was staring because you looked good or completely ridiculous. You glanced at him one more time before entering your apartment. He looked like he wanted to say something more but crossed his arms and smiled instead.

“See you, Y/N.”

“Bye, Spencer.”

☆

Texting Spencer slowly became part of your everyday routine. It was one of the highlights of your day - random thoughts, memes, both of you complaining about stuff happening at work. He had taken up a comfortable spot in your mind and he didn't show any signs of leaving soon. You had begun to value him so much as a friend, you tried your hardest to ignore any kind of romantic attraction you felt for him.

Like you had decided before, you were taking a break from romance anyway. He had become such a good friend to you that you were focussing more on getting close to him platonically.

You felt like you could tell him anything. You had both opened up to each other over the past weeks. He had told you all about his work at Smosh, the pressure he felt that kept him up at night sometimes, but also the absolute blast he had working with the people he loved so much. You had told him about your terrible luck for your entire dating history and the conclusion you came to recently that being single for the rest of your life was on the table, but at the same time, the tumultuous nature of your love life had brought your close friends even closer. You had shared these moments with him where you felt like time was standing still, smiling at your phone in the dark while in bed, hushed conversations in the hallway walking from the elevator to your doors, smiling tiredly at each other in the lobby before work on a Monday morning.

You loved spending time with him, whether it was 30 minutes or 30 seconds. But sometimes his cute smile made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, his charming sense of humour made you feel like you were being knocked off your feet, and when those beautiful eyes gazed at you with all his attention, it made you feel positively seasick.

Shit.

☆

You had a day off work and you spent it doing a bit of shopping (you needed new jeans) and got home in the afternoon to a few texts from Spencer. He was going to get back to his place in about half an hour and asked if you wanted to have dinner together. This was not anything new, a huge perk of becoming good friends with your neighbour is that you got to hang out whenever you wanted.

‘Sure thing’, you texted back, ‘bring some takeaway and you can choose the movie.’

‘Deal.’

Less than an hour later, you heard your doorbell chime and then he was handing you a bag of food from Homestate while kicking off his boots. It just felt so easy, letting him into your space, making you belly laugh with a story about Angela from work. You bet he knew it too, how much you loved his presence, he had that twinkle in his eye whenever you gave him attention, with that cheeky smile, how could you look away?

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Alien”, Spencer sat back on the couch after hitting play on the movie.

You shrugged next to him, “it’s not that I don’t watch horror movies, I just never got around to it.”

“Well, prepare to get your mind blown”, he turned to stare at you like this was life or death.

You laughed. “God, you’re corny.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love it.”

You didn’t bother replying to him, rolling your eyes playfully, you began to dig into your food while the movie started. With your head down, you hoped he didn’t notice you still blushed like an idiot when he spoke to you like that.

It was really good, hell, it was probably a great movie. The problem was you kept getting distracted. Finished food abandoned on the coffee table, you kept glancing over at the man comfortably laid back next to you like he belonged there. You were sitting tight together, arms touching. You resisted the urge to cuddle him, you were friends for sure but you didn’t want to cross a boundary that he might not be comfortable with. Anyway, if you guys did cuddle, he would definitely feel how fast your heart was beating. Even now, with your upper arms pressed against one another and your knees occasionally knocking together, it felt like a million tiny electric zaps every time you made contact.

Spencer loved movies, he was a movie guy, and you loved that he was a movie guy. You loved the way he lit up talking about them, his eyes glued to the screen and reacting to everything that happened like it was personally happening to him. He really felt the films he liked, he was open-minded and enjoyed being immersed in them. You couldn’t help being attracted to his passion and excitement, and watching every microexpression on his face instead of the movie itself. It was alright though, because he would always answer your questions when you got confused.

“You’re so patient with me”, you grinned absentmindedly, trying to focus on Sigourney Weaver running through the spaceship. When you realised what you said, you tried to play it off, “like, as in, you never get mad at me for getting confused.” You attempted to laugh in a light, casual way, it came out sort of hollow sounding though.

Yeah… playing it real cool, you thought to yourself sarcastically. You forced yourself not to look at him but you could feel his gaze on you.

“Of course”, his voice was so soft, you almost missed it. Your will broke down immediately and you turned to him. You didn’t think you had ever seen that expression on his face, it was gentle and open, ignoring the movie for once. You felt your breath leave your lungs, like your chest was about to collapse and you were going to throw up.

“Thank you”, you murmured, not knowing what else to say. “For being so… good to me.”

What the fuck were you saying? Oh my god, oh my god, shut up-

“I can’t imagine ever not being good to you”, he mumbled back, “and I’m not that patient.”

Your heart was in your throat, your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, you couldn’t hear the yelling from the television. You slowly pressed the pause button and tossed the remote aside without looking away from him.

“What do you mean?”

“Something about you makes me so impatient”, he was whispering now and you felt yourself being drawn closer like a magnet. “Sometimes”, he swallowed thickly, “I think about you and I lose all my chill. I just want to stop what I’m doing and see you.”

Seeing him like this, cheeks slowly reddening and eyes wide and vulnerable, it felt more intimate than sex.

“S-sorry”, he stuttered out.

“No”, you rushed, your hand instinctively grabbing his forearm and he jumped like you had just shocked him. You slowly realised that while you had been trying to ignore your attraction to Spencer, he may have been doing the exact same thing. “I feel the same way”, you said breathlessly, “I think about you every single day.”

“Me too, every day”, he nodded in agreement, “it’s been hard to not think about you all the time ever since I saw you sprint down the hall in your Hello Kitty print pyjamas.” You threw your head back in laughter, his gorgeous laugh mixing with yours. “I couldn’t help falling for you, you landed in a puddle in front of me in your own kitchen. And then you ripped your pants in mine.” You were in hysterics at this point, as embarrassed as you were in those moments, it was absolutely hilarious in hindsight.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you like me”, you caught your breath, “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want to push anything”, he said sincerely, “I had no idea if you liked me like that, and after learning about your whole swearing off romance thing… I thought I had no chance at all.”

“Well”, you reached up and fiddled with the string of his hoodie, almost feeling the heat coming off his body, “that was before I met you.”

His smile at that moment was so bright, you swore it lit up the entire room.

“You’re amazing, Spencer”, he held your free hand in his, gently running his thumb along your knuckles, “I tried to avoid my feelings but I couldn’t do it. I like you so much it makes me sick.”

“Sick?” He laughed. You loved making him laugh.

“Yes, sick”, you giggled in reply.

Both of you were slowly inching towards each other, noses almost bumping. His eyes flicked down at your lips and then back up to your eyes. You gave the tiniest of nods, giving permission, and he immediately leaned in. And then your lips connected, it was like every romantic movie you had ever seen combined and ten times better. You could almost hear the swelling music score as his hand delicately cradled the side of your face. You felt like electricity was running through your veins and roses were blossoming inside your chest. He tasted sweet like the lemonade he just had, and you tightened the grip you had on his hoodie string. He hummed contently against your mouth, his other hand pulled you closer, until you felt engulfed in his arms, his scent, him.

So much for a retired hopeless romantic.

✩

♡ masterlist

#starsfics #smosh #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfiction #smosh x reader #spencer smosh

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realcube · 1 year ago

Text

WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, fob, smut, vaginal, oral (recieving) & praise — minors dni

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

maybe you were overexaggerating a bit when you said that yamaguchi is always with tsukishima, because there are a couple times a week when you know they'll be apart.

your friend is a part of the college's newspaper club, and she mentioned that yamaguchi is a member too, but tsukishima isn't. this gave you the perfect opportunity to the catch him alone and prey on his weakest form.

you saunter up to the news room, and catch yamaguchi waiting outside. they don't usually enter until your friend, the chief editor, arrives. "excuse me?"

your voice is soft and inviting, hence yamaguchi is stunned when he turns to see you. his guard is up, but unlike tsukishima, he doesn't immediately resort to aggression, "yes?" he replies quietly.

"is this the newspaper society?" you ask innocently, tilting your head with a smile.

yamaguchi is unsure as to why you are being so mellow towards him, considering your history, but as he chokes back a gulp, he figures that maybe your negative sentiments are purely towards tsukishima and up until now he has just been caught in the crossfire.

"yes, this is. i'm waiting for the editor to get here."

"oh, hana?" your lips are parts slightly, as he nods, "she is my friend. i'm sure she won't mind if we just go in."

"are you sure?" his questions is basically answered as he watches you enter the news room. he hesitantly follows behind, thinking he can shift the blame onto you if the chief editor is upset.

"so, are you a member? i've never seen you here before." he asks while fidgeting with his hands, taking a seat in his usual spot.

"no, not yet. i want to join though which is why i'm here." you sit near yamaguchi, on the table, "but i hear you're full. could you put in a good word for me, tadashi?"

you giggle. bafflement and wary burn at his face, dusting his cheeks a slight pink, "if you're friends with hana then i'm sure you don't need me to talk you up to her."

"well, yeah, but she's reluctant to let me join because, in her words, i can be 'volatile and confrontational'." you muse, legs swinging lightly as you turn to look at yamaguchi with a knowing smirk, "i'm so not, though. you can vouch for me, right?"

yamaguchi blinks, then responds, "yeah. you're the most docile person i know."

you find it cute that he plays along with your jokes. plus, now that you're actually taking a good look at him, you realise he has such a sweet, squishable face. how does the sweetest boy ever end up in the company of lucifer incarnate?

"i wouldn't say docile. that's too far-fetched." you tease.

"mild?"

"eh."

"poise?"

"i like that one but still no."

"composed?"

"that could work!" you cheer, displaying the palm of your hand he insantly reciprocates with a high-five. just as your shared laughter begins to die down, hana and a couple other members of the newspaper society enter the room.

you spend the rest of the hour in the back of the room, working on an article with yamaguchi. your friend knew about your plan, and she didn't mind you utilising her society to achieve your end goal, but you'd hate to impede on her work flow for too long so you pulled out all the stops to ensure you gain tadashi's favour as quickly as possible.

and it worked like a charm. despite never having communicated directly with each other before, you chatted throughout the whole hour like you were lifelong best friends. there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you — the sweet and sour.

plus, you both have a lot more in common than you may have initially thought. your music tastes are very similar, surprisingly, and you like the same movies/shows. he shows you a couple of his playlists and you do the same, discussing the concerts you've been to and what merchandise you have.

you learned that he is studying to be an electronic engineer while tsukishima is studying history, but he chose maths electives just so they could be in a couple of classes together. they also used to do volleyball together in highschool and are both apart of the volleyball society in college.

so corny and so cheesy but coming from the mouth of yamaguchi, it was the sweetest, most moving story of friendship you've ever heard.

even when meeting ended, you both still walked together out of the building, blathering away about anything and everything, it comes to an abrupt holt when you reach the building's exit.

perplexed, yamaguchi asks, "which way are you going? if you want, i could walk you to your bus stop?"

you smile awkwardly, pretending to be sheepish about the proposition despite it being exactly what you anticipated, "i would love that. but i don't think tsukishima would be too delighted to see us together."

yamaguchi frowns at the reminder but nods.

"but," you continue, pulling a pen and scrap piece of paper from your bag and hurriedly jotting something down, "you can ring me if you ever want to talk. or anything else." you hand it to him with a wink and yamaguchi's throat dies up at your suggestion, he is barely able to croak out an 'okay'.

"see you later!" you skip off and yamaguchi is left speechless behind.

ೃ⁀➷

you had warmed up to each other very quickly. texting each other videos, emojis and pictures every other minute. didn't even take two days before you both had a shared playlist. you were up until ungodly hours of the night facetiming each other.

it was so frequent, yamaguchi had to change your contact information to a fake name because he was getting tired of constantly having to hide his phone from tsukishima, since there was bound to be a notification from you on his screen.

"are you gonna buy tickets tonight???" "noooo don't remind me tadashi" "what's the matter ???��" "wi-fi sucks at my houseee. i never get concert tickets on time. always end up paying resale prices 😤" "you can come to mine if you want! my wifi is good"

you took him up on his offer. you went over to his dorm at 10PM, since tickets when on sale at 11PM in your time zone. (darn international artists!)

it was a blood-bath but by the grace of god you both successfully secured two tickets to see your favourite artist performing live, with seats very close to the stage!

so of course you had to celebrate somehow.

shaky breathes escaped his lips, soft moans intertwined. his shirt had come off, exposing his tan skin to the hot atmosphere of his bedroom. hypnotised by the way your tight cunt sucked needily on his cock, dripping cum all over his bare shaft.

his gaze was only freed from your sex when he was nearing his climax and a sudden bolt of ecstasy wracked through him, causing his eyes to roll back, "so tight, (y/n)." he grunted, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

he had you sprawled out over his bed face down, while he stood by the edge and fucked you from behind. he gave you a pillow to rest your cute head on so your neck wouldn't hurt, and he held your legs by his sides while he ploughed into you. four years of volleyball practise has its uses.

his pace is relentless but rhythmic; at first he fucked you leisurely, allowing you to appreciate every inch of him as he'd pull out of you excruciatingly slowly, then ease himself back in until his achy tip prodded your cervix. he wasn't doing it to torment you though, just to give you some time to grow accustomed to his length.

it was better that way; your desperate pussy welcomed him instead of trying to force him out. in fact, it clung to him so tightly it was challenging for him to pull out of you, somehow he managed.

as he approached his orgasm, his thrusts became hurried and sloppy, raring to spill inside your sopping pussy. but ever the altruist, he slips his fingers between your legs to press and rub at your clit fervently, "close, baby?"

his cock splits in you half, and your pussy throbs around him. the power with which he rams into you has made you hazy, drooling mess, only able to weakly buck your hips in reciprocation to his thrusts. you try to whine a meek 'yes' but your face is buried in the pillow, thus yamaguchi only hears an unclear, muffled noise.

he furrows his brows and moves his hands up to your waist, "'m gonna flip you over, yeah?" he pants, still fucking you as he talks, "wanna see that pretty face." in a surge of strength and energy, he pulls you off the bed and flips you onto your back, offering you a gentle smile when you lock eyes.

you weakly smile back, about the only autonomy you could exhibit while his cock continued to pound into you, moulding your walls around him. you were losing control of yourself with each thrust; clinging to the sheets and allow a string of lewd moans and profanities spill from your mouth. somewhere in the mix there was his name.

"tadashi.."

your eyes were closed, and your melodious voice called out for him to save you, like he wasn't tucked inside you. hearing you say his name like that — so filthy and obscene — delighted him in ways he didn't know were possible and only urged him closer to his climax. "(y/n), say that again, please."

the wet slapping noises he made against your cunt grew louder; it was a miracle you could still hear his pastel voice. being railed into the plush sheets of his bed, your mind and body were in two different realms, so when you tried to utter his name once more, all that came out was a series of moans and gasps.

"c'mon, (y/n)." he pled, gripping onto your hips like you are his life force, "i need you. be a good girl for me, please."

he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust, brushing your cervix each time and it didn't take much else for you to come crash down around him. spasming and twitching on his dick, your scream echoing through the room while he fucked you through it. your throbbing pussy still being used for his pleasure.

even when you were nearing completion, your pussy still fluttered around him and you squealed, "tadashi!" as the world became hazy and blurred around you.

which was enough to send him hurdling over the edge too. his teeth are gritted together and his hands tense on your waist when he cums inside you. his thrusts waver for only a moment before he temporarily resumes, this time with less vigour and with the sole purpose of milking himself dry inside you.

once he could feel his hot cum packed safely within your walls, he was finally able to gasp for air. he doesn't want to pull out, he's comfortable as he is, but the curious part of him wants to see how his load looks inside you.

he pulls out, only to kneel and examine your glistening hole. too fucked out and sore, you lay on the bed and try to catch your breath, allowing him to push your legs wide open without protest.

"so pretty." he mused, watch as a bit of his cum dribbles out of your pussy and onto your ass. not to worry though, as he uses his two fingers to guide it back inside you. idly, he pushes his fingers inside you and revels at how tight you still are.

"you're perfect." without thinking about it, he curls his fingers inside, then delicately drags them in and out, wrenching a feeble whine from your throat. "do you know how perfect you are?"

he pressed a loving kiss against your clit before poking his head up from between your legs to look at you. "mm" is all you respond with. he chuckles, "that's not a yes or no, baby."

he doesn't dwell on it too long. he'll stop bothering you now by trying to get you to respond to him; you're probably still recovering from your intense orgasm. yamaguchi goes back to admiring your hole, captivated by how his cum has filled you up, and whenever it tries to escape but it is prevented from doing so by his fingers.

"you look so beautiful like this. i wanna burn this image into my brain so i can keep it forever." he kisses your pussy again, french this time. his lips move graciously against your folds and his tongue plunges inside you. you taste so good, so intoxicating, he moans into your skin, the vibrations causing you to gasp. he continues to suck and lick inside your puckered hole, until he gets a taste of himself on his tongue, which causes him to falter and slowly pull away.

"i've never had sex with a girl on the pill before. but this was just.." he can't seem to find the word he's looking for. perhaps it doesn't exist. "amazing. well, that doesn't even cover half of it." he grins foolishly, caressing the inside of your thigh and still gazing at your hole.

"yeah." after lying motionless for a while, you seem to have finally come back down to earth and can form full sentences again. "amitriptyline is great, isn't it?"

"uhuh.." he muses, thinking about how gorgeous you look until what you said finally registers in head and he springs to his feet, "what!?"

#haikyuu x reader #yamaguchi smut #haikyuu smut #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x y/n #kei tsukishima x reader #👾nsfw

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teamchasezwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Breed You

Word Count: 8,504

Characters: Damian Priest/OC

Genre: Smut, Side of fluff

Tags: Breeding Kink, Smut, Dirty Talk, Pregnancy Kink, Sexual Explicit Content

Summary: Thoughts about having sex with his wife were nothing new for Damian. Having thoughts of mounting her from behind and breeding her... well... those were new.

Author's Note: When it comes to writing smut, this post fits me to a T. I almost reported it under "I'm in this photo and I don't like it." This story is the first time I've attempting writing a kink and I do hate how it wasn't the main focal point. Go easy on me! Enjoy

Inspired by:

The door to the arena closed behind Damian as he stepped into the private parking lot. He nodded his head to a couple crew members standing along the building. A lingering acrid stench hung in the air indicating a cigarette break. He would never forget the smell as a former smoker himself. Ten years clean the smell now irritated his nose.

The building did little to hold in the cheers of the thousands of fans inside. The music was muffled but he couldn’t distinguished which wrestler was headed to the ring or who was victorious. If he were being honest with himself, he had no idea what was even on the card for the night beyond his own match – an eight man tag team match between Judgement Day and R-Truth, The Miz, and DIY. Judgement Day won of course. He was able to secure the pin on R-Truth.

Then his focus turned from the job to something better. Thankful Triple H was now in charge and he was a big champion of letting wrestlers have time off for family. His match needed to be in the first part of Raw or else it would throw off the scheduling for his traveling. Like the ripple a rock makes in the water as it plunges into its depth. The rings start off small and get bigger and bigger. He didn’t get out of the arena on time, he’ll miss his flight from LAX. If he missed his flight, it was a six hour drive.

Without traffic.

And six hours was way too long of a delay to be where he so desperately needed to be.

Damian hit the button on the key fob of his rental and tossed his black duffle bag into the passenger seat as he climbed into the nondescript sedan. He pushed the button on the dash and the engine started immediately. The radio started blasting Death Angel’s “Father of Lies”. He quickly reached out turning the volume down a couple notches from where he’d been rocking out earlier on his way to the Honda Center.

As he backed from the the parking spot, he sent a little prayer up for traffic to work with him. There was slim wiggle room and it was already a little after six local time. Los Angelas wasn’t exactly known for its commute.

Whatever Gods controlled the traffic were on his side because he was able to make it to the rental drop off at LAX in the time the GPS estimated. The drop off was quick and he was able to zip through security and make it to his gate with time to spare. Boarding hadn’t begun yet so he took the time he had to go to the bathroom and check his phone.

He sat in a chair surrounded by no one. The black hat on his head pulled low over his eyes with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over it. The long braided extensions he currently had his hair styled in was hidden by the hoodie helping give him a case of anonymity. Though he was still a six foot five man with bulking muscles. He definitely stood out against the rest of the passengers awaiting the same flight.

‘Made it to the airport.’

Roughly two hours – depending on how long it took to board and actually take off – before he would be at his destination. His leg bounced in anticipation.

While he waited, Damian scrolled through his social media. He liked posts from fellow Raw wrestlers and shared posts from WWE’s main account about him to his accounts. When boarding was announced he stood, shouldering his bag.

The attendant at the gate scanned the ticket on his phone with a smile. “Have a good flight.”

He responded with a smile and made his way onto the boarding bridge. He stepped into the plane, ducking his head where he smiled at the flight attendant welcoming him and quickly found his seat. Keeping his phone in his hand he stuffed his bag into the overhead compartment and took his assigned window seat.

The anticipation continued to build and he wished the passengers would move more quickly to their seats. The clock didn’t start ticking until the plane was in the air.

75 minutes until touchdown.

Damian’s phone chirped in his ear through the AirPods. He had yet to turn his playlist on. Glancing down at his lock screen he saw the notification. His lips spread into a smile.

Ali: You’re so close!!

He swiped his thumb across the notification to open the message thread.

‘Boarded now.’

‘If I could fly this plane, I’d already be on the way.’

A college-aged looking kid took the empty seat next to him before Damian could stand and try to do just that.

‘I’ll be your sexy flight attendant to mess around in your cock pit.’

Damian grinned at the sexual connotation of his wife’s text. ‘You do know your way around my cock…’

An image appeared next and he greedily tapped on it to enlarge it on his screen. The photo was dark, the only light source were the candles lining the edge of the bathtub and the windowsill above it. His wife’s feet peeked out of the water through the reflection of the candles. The feet glistened with water. Her skin tanned and perfect in the candlelight.

‘I’m gonna start right there and work my way up. I won’t be stopping until my lips have touched every piece of skin.’

He shifted in his seat. First to make sure his phone screen was hidden from prying eyes. Second, to alleviate the growing pressure against his zipper.

‘I hope you’ll be spending extra time in certain places on your quest.”

‘There’ll be quite a few layovers in all my favorite places.”

‘Fuck Dame… I need you to hurry up.’

Damian bit back the moan wanting to come out. He could almost feel her need coming through in the previous text. ‘Are you on edge Corazón? Do you need to cum?’

‘My fingers are nothing compared to yours.’

Damian shifted again at her words. There was no way to inauspiciously press the heel of his hand to his cock for some form of relief. ‘I’ll be there soon Baby.’

The plane finished boarding during his shameless conversation with his wife. The flight attendants were already closing the overhead compartments. ‘Getting ready to take off. I’ll see you soon. I love you.’

Ali’s answering ‘I love you’ text had him putting his phone in airplane mode and pressing the button on the side. The screen went dark. Tucking it in his hoodie pocket, he stared out the window as the plane taxied away from the terminal and down the runway.

The wait wasn’t long before pilot had them speeding down the runway past the other flights waiting their turn. The buildings on the ground flew by as the plane picked up speed. The nose lifted and soon the plane was off the ground and climbing high into the air.

The anticipation danced around in his belly like nerves. Damian couldn’t even explain the feeling. Ali was just in his arms yesterday when he kissed her goodbye at their front door before heading to the airport to fly to California for Monday Night Raw.

Maybe it had to do with the fact he was flying to Mammoth Mountain where he was spending the next six days nestled in a cozy room with his wife in the California ski town. Six days of uninterrupted time with just him and her. Celebrating five years of marriage. Celebrating their love.

Jesus did he love her.

They met in a club in New Jersey. The relationship was purely sexual on the onslaught. Then it turned into an on-again off-again before he finally wizened up to make it permanent in 2017. He didn’t know where wrestling was taking him at the time, but he knew Ali was it.

The plane leveled off and settled in for the quick jaunt west. The seatbelt sign clicked off but Damian paid it no attention. He retrieved his phone from his hoodie pocket and entered his passcode. He had a few games he could play to pass the time; an old pro at traveling now but he ended up in his photos. Skipping the raunchy and inappropriate memes he’d send Rhea and the rest of the Judgement Day in their group text, he narrowed in on the true photos on his camera.

The first one to pop up was a photo taken just last Wednesday on Valentine’s Day. A picture of him and Gabriela – his four year old daughter. She was perched on his back in a piggy back ride. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck in a pinching squeeze with his arms hooked around her already long legs securing her to him. Long legs and arms reminded him of a newborn horse. Her dark brown hair hung in a mass of wild waves hadn’t yet met a comb that morning. Her brown eyes sparkled in pure delight or mischief. The crooked little grin proudly displayed on her face.

Gabriela – an absolute surprise to them both finding out they were already many weeks along after their wedding. Completely spoiled rotten and one hundred percent Papi’s little girl.

Then there was a photo of two year old Ian taken that same morning, sitting at the kitchen table in his booster chair. His hand griping the small fork in a backwards grip with a look of pure determination on his face as he tried to stab the syrup covered pancake.

A smile formed on his lips as he could still hear his son chanting ‘Papi, Papi, Papi,’ as he dished up the special heart shaped pancakes to him and his sister along with cut up sausage patties and strawberries.

He swiped his thumb again and there was a tired looking Ali with her own heart shaped pancake. He liked to imagine she was tired because he wore her out the night before but he knew better. The culprit of her (and his) exhaustion was sitting in his wife’s lap, sporting an open mouth grin showing off her teeth. Sofia just turned one last month and had yet to sleep through the night. He was beginning to think she never would.

Damian could still smell the fresh baby scent when he nuzzled her sweet little face and kissed her goodbye yesterday.

He continued to scroll through the photos in his phone, getting further away from the current photos. His kids regressed quickly through the months and his heart twisted a little noticing how much Gabi changed in just this last year alone. Sofia became that tiny infant again; the one he was almost too afraid to hold after delivery. She’d been the smallest of his children. Not quite clocking six pounds. He felt like an overgrown oaf cradling her in his arms.

A couple more scrolls and there was Ali laying in the hospital bed, looking exhausted yet beautiful still in the midst of labor though not at the pushing stage. Her belly big and round with a stubborn Sofia not wanting to come out.

There was a stirring deep in his own belly he couldn’t place as he stared at a few more photos of Ali in the hospital before Sofia was born.

He kept swiping back through photos and his breath caught in his throat at the black and white photo. Taken at Christmas time because he received a tripod for his phone. Happy he could now take photos with his family without them having to be selfies all the time. This photo though…

Ali was lying in their bed on her back. The long flowing sheer negligee was deep red he remembered. The slit started at the center of the bra cups and down the entire length allowing it to fall open exposing her belly. Her back was slightly arched allowing her belly to be more prominent. Her head lifted a little, exposing her neck and the angle of her jaw.

He laid between her legs, shirtless with a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. His arms holding himself above her to keep his weight off her. The black and white photo drawing out the tattoos on his left arm more. His arms were slightly bent so he could dip and press his lips against Ali’s belly.

He’d forgotten all about the photo.

The next photo showed him on his knees in front of a standing Ali kissing her belly again. Then they were both standing. Him behind her with his arms wrapped around her, his hands on either side of her belly. Another photo of Ali by herself. Turned sideways to the camera, displaying her pregnant belly. One arm resting on top, the other cradling it from underneath.

Damian’s scrolls became faster almost frantic as he swiped through his photos searching for the ones with Ali pregnant. Anything with his wife’s belly on display. As he stared at the photos he couldn’t help but remember how it felt when they made love.

Her breasts enlarged, full of milk to nourish their babies. Her nipples tender and sensitive. The cries he could draw from just tracing his tongue around the areola. How her legs would jerk back and forth listlessly.

With her belly big and round, their frequent position would be him taking her from behind. He would help ease her onto her hands and knees as he situated himself behind her on his knees. He’d run his cock through her glistening folds before slowly sinking in. His hands would be gripping her hips as he moved in and out of her. Slowly his hands would move to her belly. He’d pull her up so her back was to his chest. She’d sink on him allowing him better access to her belly.

He loved the weight of her belly. The feel. The look… how it turned him on to see her pregnant with his child. It bolstered the possessiveness he felt when it came to it wife. He was the man who sent his seed deep inside her body, marking his claim.

Damian swallowed roughly on a dry mouth. The path his thoughts took were surprising. His cock was painfully hard in his jeans now as thoughts swirled in his head of impregnating his wife once more. Of releasing his unfettered sperm deep inside her.

Of mounting his wife from behind and breeding her.

Watching once more as her belly grew round with his child.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Please fasten your dealt belts as we make our descent into Mammoth Lakes. Flight attendants, please prepare for landing.”

Damian’s thoughts were nearly feral as he exited the plane and walked into the small, private terminal of Mammoth Lakes Airport. His stride was purposeful as he exited the main doors. A few vehicles were lined up to fill with passengers to take them to various locations on the mountain.

He stepped up to the first one at the front of the line. “There’s a nice tip if you take me to The Lodge without waiting to fill the vehicle.”

The man grinned. “Yes Sir,” he gave him a mock salute. He started the vehicle as Damian climbed inside.

He fastened his seatbelt and pulled out his phone taking it off airplane mode. It chimed in his ear as the van pulled away from the curb.

A video from his mom waited. He tapped the video and was rewarded when his screen filled with Gabi. ‘Hi Papi! I love you!’ Her face zoomed in as she must have kissed the phone. He smiled watching as the phone shook and he was left staring at his daughter’s ear as she turned her head. Then she was off running, her giggles coming through his AirPods. ‘Say hi to Papi Ian.’ His son came into view as he pressed his face against his sister’s. Their faces squished together to fit both on the screen. ‘Hi Papi!’ Ian always over accented the ending sound in his name, holding onto the ‘e’ for a few beats. He loved it. ‘Say I love you!’ He chuckled at Gabi’s whisper. ‘Love you.’ Ian parroted as he learned toward the phone showing off his mouth full of teeth. The screen shook again and bounced as Gabi was on the move again. ‘Careful Sweetie.’ He heard his mother’s voice. Then Sofia was on the screen. Sitting in his mother’s lap. Her pink blanket in her lap. Her mouth sucking on her binkie. Even though the phone Damian could see the heaviness in her eyes as she held onto the last vestibules of wake, no doubt too intrigued by the movements of her siblings. ‘Feefa loves you too Papi.’ The nickname caused him to smile. Gabi had such a hard time saying Sofia. It came out as Feefa and even he called her that at times. His heart burst when Sofia pushed the binkie out of her mouth, a wide grin of her face as she saw her own reflection in the phone. ‘Wave to Papi, Feefa. Wave.’ A cheer nearly left his mouth at the same time as his mother’s when Sofia raised her hand out opening and shutting her fingers. ‘Bye Papi! I love you!’

The video ended and a small wave of sadness went through him. He missed them. He missed chasing Gabi through the house trying to corral her into the bath before bed. He missed snuggling with both Gabi and Ian on his lap as he read a bedtime story. He missed giving Sofia the final bottle before bed. Her brown eyes staring up at him holding him captive. Her small hand reaching up to touch his cheek, petting his beard. He would take her hand and press soft kisses to her fingers.

“We’re here Sir.”

Damian looked up from his phone. The Lodge loomed before him. He tucked his phone into his hoodie as he unfastened his seat belt. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took a couple bills out and handed them to the driver. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay.”

Damian shouldered his bag as he tucked his wallet back in his pocket. He shut the door to the vehicle and started walking to the front doors as the van pulled away behind him.

The lobby was busy with the evening dinner hour. The lifts were closed. Skiing done for the night. Everyone was gathered, unwinding from a day on the slopes. The bar was standing room only. The roar of laughter and chatter echoing through the lobby. There was a line of patrons waiting to enter the restaurant. The large fire place was on the far wall. The flames danced in bright orange, red, and yellow hues. The seats around the fire were filled with friends and lovers alike.

Damian kept his head down and gaze averted as he ducked into a corner; phone already in hand. He had a waiting message from Ali.

An image.

He swallowed roughly and opened it. He released a breathy moan when the picture popped up. Ali lay on her stomach on the light colored comforter. The photo caught the side of her face; the mass of curls dipping in front of her shoulder and over her back. She wore no bra.

Her legs bent behind her, ankles crossed. Her back arched, sending her ass popping up. A pair of white lace panties sat on her waist and dipped between ass cheeks.

‘You’re killing me.’

He wanted her just like that. Wanted to slid up behind her and press his lips to the curve of an ass cheek before sinking his teeth in it. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her back while his other hand set about unbuckling his pants.

‘Where are you?’

‘In the lobby trying not to be recognized while trying to get a room number out of this girl.’

‘Is she cute?’

‘Fucking hot.’

‘Yeah?’

‘What would you do if you got her room number?’

‘Corazon you’re playing with fire.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I’d slip into her room while she’s laying on the bed. I’d press a kiss to her ankle while I climb between her legs. Pressing kisses to the back of her thighs up to her ass where I’d sink my teeth in to the soft flesh. I’d trace my tongue along the lace panties to where they dip down between her cheeks. I’d run my hand up her back to tangle into her hair and pull back causing her to arch more into me. I’d run my finger down between her cheeks to where her pretty pussy waits for me. Dripping wet. I’d press my finger deep inside her, pumping into her. Then I’d pull my hard cock out running it through her wet pussy lips as she begs for me to take her. She’d be so wet for me I can slid all the way into her on one hard thrust. There is no softness here. Just hard and fast until I have her screaming and coming apart all over my cock. When she does, I’ll give her what she so desperately wants. My hot cum painting deep inside her pussy walls.’

Fuck. Hard and fast is probably all he’s going to be good for the first time. He tugged at his hoodie in an effort to pull it down to cover his raging hard on.

‘Get here right the fuck now or it’s gonna be my fingers I’m riding hard and fast.’

The room number came through immediately after.

Armed with the information, Damian made his was through the lobby toward the elevator. Outside he appeared calm, on the inside he was wound so tight he threatened to explode. It wouldn’t take much. The simple squeeze of his cock to ward off an impending orgasm would send him in a tailspin.

Jesus he needed to get a hold of himself.

The elevator was thankfully empty when it arrived and no one followed him on. He hit the button to close the doors before anyone could slip through.

Moments later he was stalking down the hallway. Eyes catching door numbers as he passed. Then he was standing outside his room for the next six days. His wife just on the other side. Anticipation rolled through him. He raised his hand to tap softly on the door when it was pulled open and he was yanked through.

Hands palmed his cheeks pulling him down into a hot kiss. Her tongue invaded his mouth. There was no finesse. Just desperate strokes.

The door clicked shut behind him. His bag falling off his shoulder to the floor. Her hands grabbed at the hem of his hoodie frantically trying to push it up his body needing to get him naked. To feel that warm skin beneath her fingers. Feel his hard muscles.

“Corazon, wait,” Damian murmured through the kisses.

“I can’t… I need you. Right now,” Ali’s hands hit skin and she moaned into his mouth. His skin was fever warm and she ran her hands up his chest, pushing both the hoodie and t-shirt up.

With strength he wasn’t sure he had, he broke the kiss with a groan and straightened. He caught sight of her for the first time. He moaned as his eyes raked over her naked body. “Ali, baby… you better not have been answering the door like that to anyone else.”

“And if I did?” Ali reversed her destination and her hands traveled south to Damian’s jeans.

Damian growled at her words. He pushed the hood from his head and ripped the hat off. With one hand gripping the hem of his hoodie, he yanked both it and his t-shirt over his head. His AirPods fell from his ears, bouncing to places unknown on the floor.

He didn’t care.

“No one gets to see this but me, Corazon,” he growled. He carded a hand through her hair to the back of her head where he yanked her forward. He swallowed her squeak as his lips captured hers. She fell against his body; her hands trapped between them. His tongue licked her lips and when she opened for him, he darted forward. He plundered her mouth chasing an acidic taste with a hint of bubbly… fruity… as if she’d been drinking a glass of wine. He had images of dribbling the wine on her body and licking it off.

His hands traced down her back; his palm rough against her soft skin. He cupped her ass and pressed her against his hard cock still confined in his jeans. Her arms broke free from between them to wrap around his neck, twisting in his hair. He felt her shift against him and he lifted her effortlessly in his arms. Her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Damian,” she moaned against his lips. “Fuck me…” She nipped his bottom lip then ran her tongue over it to soothe the sting.

“I got something better for you…” Damian carried her further into the room and turned toward the right to enter the bedroom. He’d check out the room tomorrow. He laid her down on the comforter from the earlier photo. ‘Maybe not,’ he thought staring down at her.

Her hair spread against the blanket. Her pupils blown wide in desire. A red hue of arousal on her cheeks. Full breasts on display, a size larger after three pregnancies. Her nipples erect and enticing beckoning him to take one in his mouth. His eyes trailed down her stomach, softer now, to the small triangle patch of light brown curls. Her legs parted under his gaze revealing her glistening folds.

Like a starving man faced with a buffet he fell to his knees on the floor. He ran his hands up her legs. His fingers light over the skin drawing goosebumps. Up over her knees to her thighs. The skin so soft beneath his touch.

“Damian…” His name fell from her lips like a plea.

The cadence entered his body touching every dark recess before wrapping around his cock. The breathy moan from between her lips had him reaching down and frantically ripping down his zipper to free his cock from his briefs. He wrapped his hand around the hard flesh and squeezed. Hard. He groaned, tossing his head back. A bead of cum appeared on the tip and he breathed to ward off his orgasm.

With his orgasm staved off for now Damian opened his eyes catching sight of Ali leaning up on one elbow her face full of want and desire. The hunger in her eyes had him groaning. “The way you make me feel Corazon,” he whispered as he parted her legs. He hooked his arms around her thighs and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. Closer to his mouth.

Damian placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh and Ali shivered as his beard scratched the delicate skin. “Oh Damian…” the words fell from her lips as her eyes drifted close.

“I haven’t even started yet.” Damian smirked. He took pity on his wife – and himself by lowering his head and licking a stripe straight up her center. Tanginess burst on his tongue and he moaned, pressing his face closer.

Short licks at her entrance before moving up to her clit. His tongue circled the bundle of nerves, flicking the button, drawing soft cries from Ali. Back down through her folds to her entrance his pressed his tongue deep inside.

“Damian…” Ali mewled, her hips undulating in the hold he still had on her thighs. Keeping her right where he wanted. Where she wanted. Her back arched as his tongue assaulted her clit again. His movements sure and knowing. He could always work her into a frenzy within minutes. Her hands fisted in the comforter beneath her, pulling the fabric.

A cry fell from her lips when he pressed two fingers deep inside her channel. They slid in without resistance. She been slick all evening since she watched him in the ring during his match on TV, his muscles rippling and glistening under the lights. Her thighs closed on his head.

“Let me at this pretty pussy Corazon,” Damian murmured as he pressed a hand on the inside of her thigh cocking her leg higher onto the bed, opening her up to him. “I can’t wait to sink my cock in you. You’re squeezing my fingers so well…you need me baby don’t you,” he pressed a kiss at the crease of her thigh.

“Yes,” Ali hissed. She reached down and grabbed his ponytail, the braided strands twisting in her hold. She wished his hair was free from the braids so she could tangle her fingers in it. “Please…”

“You beg so nicely.” He removed his fingers only to replace them with his tongue. He buried his face in her folds, his nose at her clit. He wiggled his tongue inside her. He licked between her folds to his clit. His tongue swirling around it, flicking over it. He pressed his fingers back inside her as her hand pressed his head closer. He knew she was close based on that hand.

Twisting his fingers he curled them up to the front wall, searching and finding the slightly rigid patch of skin. Ali’s breath hitched at the contact followed by a low moan. Pre-cum dribbled down his cock. He closed his lips around her clit and sucked. Ali’s hips came off the bed and he used his free hand to hold her in place.

It took another flick on his tongue and she came with a cry. Her hand had a stinging grip on his hair as she pressed his face into her pussy. Her hips jerked wildly as her body convulsed.

Damian slowed his fingers, moving them in and out of her in an almost lazy manner. He pressed soft kisses and gentle licks to her folds before letting his fingers slip from her opening. His cock so hard it was painful. A wet spot on his jeans where his cock leaked.

Raising up he pressed his face into her belly. He kissed the small pouch she carried. The extra ten pounds she always complained about in the mirror. The same pouch he loved so much.

Ali’s hand had relaxed her grip on his hair but her fingers started to move again. Soft little caresses against the short stubble of his faded haircut. He closed his eyes concentrating on those ministrations as they moved toward his cheek. When her other hand cupped the other side of his face and started lifting his head, he opened his eyes to meet hers. He grinned at the sated look on her face.

“Come up here,” Ali whispered.

Damian would follow her anywhere. He pushed to his feet, his knees protesting from the prolonged position.

Ali moaned seeing her husband’s cock jutting from his jeans. She reached out and wrapped a hand around the hard, hot flesh drawing a hiss from Damian. She glanced up through her eyelashes to see his head tossed back and his eyes shut. A look of pure bliss on his face.

She kept her strokes light and teasing. Her thumb took a swipe through the creamy liquid pooled on the tip. She brought her thumb to her mouth, sucking the digit in; tongue swirling over the pad. Her eyes drifted closed as the saltiness flavor burst on her tongue.

“Fuck,” Damian moaned watching Ali suck on her thumb where she collected a drop of his cum. He quickly kicked off his shoes and shucked his jeans and briefs down his legs. After removing his socks he stood tall with his cock in hand.

“Yes,” Ali breathed. Her mouth watered as she stared at her husband in all his naked glory. The broadness of his shoulders, into his powerfully toned chest. The tattoos covering sculpted arms from his wrists to his shoulders. The libra and skulls entwined piece on his right pec. The cross coming out of the flames on his left bleeding into a skull morphing into a lily flower. Her favorite piece on his body because it represented her and their children.

An exquisite piece with a lily (her favorite flower) coming out of the nose opening. Its petals going up and covering an entire eye socket. The only shown eye socket – just a black shadowed circle meshed so well it almost looked like a petal itself. The cheekbone defined so well it acted as another petal. Then it gave way to the teeth before the jawbone became petals once again. Their children’s names - in her loopy cursive – were written in each of the petals.

She drew her eyes away from his chest and downward; over the taunt abs with the hint of definition that came and went depending on his gym workout and dieting. The sexy v-line on either side of his hips that made her want to fall to her knees and do his bidding when they’d peek out of low slung jeans on his hips. She always thought it was a travesty his ring gear covered the sexy Adonis belt.

Her eyes followed the line her tongue has traced so many times before to his cock – hard and red still grasped in his hand. The area completely shaved. The skin perfectly smooth. His fingers languidly moving up and down. She drew her lip between her teeth when his thumb circled the tip collecting the drop of cum pooled at the slit before massaging it against his length with his movements. Her thighs closed as she rubbed them together looking for friction; her pussy clenched around emptiness.

His balls were drawn up tight beneath his shaft, telling her how close he was to coming. They were heavy and full and she felt a gush of fluid between her thighs at the thought of his virile cum filling her, coating her womb.

A white hot need shot through her. Her mind clouded as arousal built. Her fingers tingled and her body grew hot. Wetness slicked her thighs and saturated the blanket beneath her.

Her eyes hit his thighs – muscular and powerful. She wanted to spread her legs on either side of his thigh and press her pussy to the hard muscle and ride until she came.

Damian nearly came watching the different emotions flicker across Ali’s face as her eyes roamed his body. He preened under her perusal, tightening his muscles, making them more defined. His pecs rippled. The veins on his arms more pronounced.

“Damian… please,” her voice was rough and full of need. She scooted away from the edge and laid back on the bed. Her legs parted in invitation and her fingers ran through the soft brown curls framing her aching slit.

“Corazon… Baby girl…you have no idea how much I need you” Damian placed his hands on the bed as he bent over and kissed her delicate ankle. He didn’t linger as he moved his lips up her leg, placing a kiss to the inside of her knee. It drew a whimper from her and cum leaked from his cock at the sound painting the comforter.

He bypassed her cunt – slick and swollen from her first orgasm. The heady scent of her arousal invaded his nostrils and he breathed deeply causing a full body shiver to course through him. He nuzzled her belly. His tongue tracing the feint stretch marks spidering on the skin.

Continuing on his upward path, his nose lightly traced up her stomach. His mouth pressing ghosting kisses on the soft kiss, leaving behind a trace of wetness to dry in the air. Her nipples were drawn in stiff peaks and he took one in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the hardened pebble. She arched into his mouth as her hand twisted in the braided locks.

“You gotta… take these out,” she gasped as he sucked her nipple. His teeth nipped and then there was a long swipe with a flattened tongue over the flesh to soothe.

“Tomorrow,” Damian murmured against her skin as he drew her other nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

“Damian…” Ali’s hand clutched his bicep; her nails digging into the tattooed skin. She dug the nails of her other hand into his scalp pushing her breast further into his mouth even as her back arched up. Pleasure zinged through her, pooling deep in her belly. Her pussy clenched and released milking the emptiness, wishing he’d shove his cock deep into her.

Before Damian had a chance to latch onto the spot where her neck met shoulder and that place right behind her ear that always made her cry out, Ali’s hands were cupping either side of his face. She drug his lips to hers.

She moaned into his mouth when his weeping cock painted her thigh. His tongue wasted no time entering her mouth tangling with hers; each fighting for dominance. It slid against hers and she pressed her hips wantonly against him surrendering to his touch. The movement seductive as she sought pleasure from his body.

“Damian,” she whispered breathlessly. She felt lightheaded and dizzy. Drowning in need. “Please…”

Damian pushed up on his knees, a hand on his cock giving it a quick hard squeeze at the base. He stared down at her, breathing heavily. His got impossibly harder twitching in his hand. She was spread out before him like an offering. Her hair fanned out on the comforter. His fingers itched to bury in the soft silky tresses. Her eyes blown wide in arousal. The black nearly absorbing the green he loved so much. Her lips – swollen from his kisses – parted as her breaths came out heavy. He watched, transfixed, as her tongue came out to lick along the bottom lip, coating it in wetness. Her skin a red hue from her cheeks sweeping south over her chest.

He reached out and traced a finger down until he got to her stomach. Her belly twitch beneath his touch and he spread both his hands over her abdomen. In a blink his mind morphed the soft, pillowy pouch to full and round with child.

His child.

“Dios Corazon, te necesito,” Damian moaned. His hands ran down either of her thighs pushing them further apart as he moved closer.

“Take me Damian…” Ali begged. “Please. Now.” Tilting her hips up in offering.

Damian wrapped his hand around his cock and ran it through Ali’s wet folds before lining up and pressing forward. His eyes closed and he groaned as he entered her body, her pussy gripping him. He sank to the hilt, his hips pressed against hers.

Ali clenched around him drawing a low moan from deep in his throat. He tossed his head back, his eyes clenched tightly as he breathed through his teeth trying to keep from coming. She was tight and warm wrapped around him.

He opened his eyes and stared down at her. “Corazon I’m barely hanging on…”

“Good. I need you to fuck me… right now.”

Damian groaned at her words. He pulled from her body, his eyes watching his cock appear, slicked with her creamy juices. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth as he sunk back in.

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day…”

Damian fell onto his elbows over her. “Corazon you have no idea what I’ve been thinking about all day.” He seized her lips in a hard kiss. His tongue entered her mouth, demanding.

Ali wrapped her arms around his massive shoulders pulling him closer. Her skin tingled and her core flooded as his tongue stroked hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. She broke the kiss on a moan. His cock driving deep inside her. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Damian groaned and buried his face in Ali’s neck as his mind exploded with images of her pregnant belly. His arm muscles bulged as he kept his full weight from crushing her. His hips pistoned in and out sharply. His balls smacking against her skin. They were drawn tight to his body, ready to explode.

“Tell me,” Ali whispered nipping his ear, drawing the lobe between her lips. The movement caused his hips to move faster and she released a heady moan in his ear. Her nails raked down his back leaving red streaks in their place.

“I wanna breed you… I wanna fill you with my cum.” Damian sucked a bruising kiss on her neck. “Plant my seed deep in your womb. Watch you grow big with my baby.”

Ali felt the gush of liquid at his words, coating Damian’s cock. Her eyes darkened with lust. The thought of his cum coating her pussy, painting her womb ignited her insides. Her belly growing round and full with Damian’s child.

“I wanna roll you over and fuck you from behind. Keep fucking you all night long until I’ve fucked a baby into you…”

Ali tightened her legs around Damian, stopping his movements. He was trapped deep inside her. When he lifted his head to meet her eyes, she saw some trepidation like he’d overstepped a line. She fisted his hair and brought his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. “Do it,” she whispered, their eyes meeting once again. She saw his eyes flare with desire and she clenched around him. “Breed me, Damian. Put a baby in me…”

Damian moved like lightning. He pulled out with a moan and helped his wife roll over to her hands and knees. The moan he released was harsh and visceral staring at his wife. Her ass and pussy on display. Her pussy lips red and swollen from his thrusts. A slickness coating them and her thighs.

He moved behind her. His corse hairy thighs pressing against her soft skin. He didn’t waste a moment. He thrust back in sinking fully into her. Their moans were loud and long at the invasion. He hoped no one was on the other side of the wall but he was beyond caring.

He withdrew once again watching his cum coated cock pull from her body. The way her lips seem to clench around him as to stop him from leaving.

“Give me a baby Damian,” Ali moaned tossing her head back.

“Fuck yeah,” Damian breathed through his teeth. His pace was harsh and brutal; unrelenting. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room mixed the creaking of the bed. “I’m gonna fill you full of my cum. Then I’m gonna keep my cock buried deep inside of you so my cum has no choice but to fill your womb.”

She cried out in pleasure, rocking on her knees to meet his thrusts. Her thighs and arms quaked; her muscles quivering. Her pussy nearly purring with the assault. “Damian…” she chanted her husband’s name as if she was sending a prayer. Maybe she was. His fingers gripped her hips with bruising force. It sent another bolt of lightning through her flooding her core.

She spread her knees further apart and gasped as his balls slapped against her clit with each thrust. Tears built in the corner of her eyes. “Oh…I…Damian…” she whimpered against the tight coiling in her belly. The feeling so big and powerful it scared her. Her hands fisted in the comforter; nails digging into the fabric.

“I got you,” Damian’s voice blanketed her trembling body. Her safety net. Her protector. “Let go for me.”

“With… you…” Her voice desperate trying to hold her orgasm at bay.

“Always.”

It was like a spring breaking free. The tension inside her snapped and she came with a loud wail. Light burst behind her clenched eyelids. She trembled as lightning danced through her body, sending tingles up and down her arms and legs. Her pussy clenched around him as she gushed, coating his cock with her essence.

“Ah… ah…” Damian’s face contorted in pleasure as Ali’s pussy clenched around him as she withered and arched on his cock as her orgasm worked through her. He snapped his hips one final time sending his cock deep inside her. He came with a roar. Rope after rope of his hot thick white sperm shooting from his throbbing cock deep inside her pussy.

Ali moaned at the feel of her husband’s sperm releasing inside her, coating her walls. She lifted her head toward the ceiling. Her messy hair showering down her back, sticking to the sweat soaked skin. Her pussy spasmed with each twitch of Damian’s cock inside her.

Damian’s body trembled as the last of his cum released inside of wife. A full body shudder as his muscles turned to goo, weakened by the force of his orgasm. It took a considerable amount of effort to unlock his fingers from Ali’s hips. He pulled out of his wife with a groan, watching as his cum dribbled out after.

With two fingers he pressed his cum back inside drawing another moan. Her pussy clenched around his fingers in mini spasms as she recovered. Damian pressed a kiss to the small of Ali’s back before he collapsed on his back beside her.

His heart hammered against his rib cage. Every so often his muscles would twitch as electrons starting firing, trying to get his body back online. His breaths came out in gasps, his lungs heaving in exertion. His body shone with a sheen of sweat. Heat radiated off his body. He wondered if his legs would even be able to hold him up in the shower.

The shower was forgotten when the mattress shifted and Ali’s head hit his shoulder. Her own breath coming out in gasps hot and sticky across his skin. Her body pressed against his side and her leg entwining with his. He wrapped his arm around her back holding her more firmly to his side. His hand rested on her hip. His fingers lightly caressing the skin.

“Corazon, you’re gonna kill me before the week is out.”

Ali hummed and pressed her lips to his chest, right over that lily flower tattoo. She tilted her head up and Damian turned his head to meet hers. Their lips collided – softly this time. Slowly their lips moved together. His arm crossed his body and she felt his calloused hand cup her cheek gently. His fingertips just breaching her hair. Their mouths opened and their tongues mated. The stroke soft and smooth. Lazy. The furious desperation from moments ago satisfied for now.

Their lips parted and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

Ali’s eyes blinked opened. Light filtered in from a crack in the curtains but she couldn’t distinguish the time. Her phone was plugged in on the nightstand but she would have to leave the warm cocoon she was currently enveloped in.

Damian lay behind her, his arms wrapped around her. His body pressed against hers. His face tucked into her neck. She could feel the soft tuffs of hair blowing gently on her skin with each breath he took.

She shifted. Both her body and Damian protested the movement. Her muscles deliciously used after last night’s lovemaking. From the desperate first time to the needy time in the shower after hands strayed and lingered to the slow and lazy way he slipped inside her as the first feint glow of sunrise hinted.

Damian’s hold tightened on her. A small noise of protest from the back of his throat as he pulled her more securely to him, snuggling against her body.

Speaking of delicious…

His hard cock pressed into her ass. Twitching over one globe leaving a string of wetness behind. She bit her lip and fought against the desire to press her ass into his crotch.

Wetness once again pooled at her center, slicking her lower lips. She pressed her thighs together, keeping the ministrations minute so not to disturb Damian and find some type of relief. His hand lay lax against her belly and she had designs about pushing it down until his fingers pressed between her folds; until those calloused fingers rubbed her clit.

She wondered if she kept the movements slow if he’d wake up or if he’d finger her in his sleep. She arched against his cock almost subconsciously. The hard flesh pulsed against the soft globe of her ass cheek. What was he thinking about to be hard right now?

‘I wanna breed you.’

His words from last night echoed in Ali’s mind. God they were so hot. Something she never thought she’d think. Did she have a breeding kink? Did she have this inane desire to be bred like an animal? Was it the thought of getting pregnant that caused her insides to turn to liquid?

Or was it the thought of actually being pregnant that made her burst with one of the most intensive orgasms she’s ever had?

Was it the want of having another baby with Damian leading the charge? Of her stomach growing full and around. Of feeling the little flutterings and kicks. Of nurturing a tiny human being with her body. Creating another little mixture of her and Damian?

A heavy dose of want coursed through her. One that had her pressing herself back on Damian’s cock. Her hips gyrating against him.

It didn’t take long before the hand on her stomach tensed as Damian’s body came to life as she pulled it from sleep. His body hardened behind her. His hips moving with hers. Lips ghosted over her neck as his fingers dipped dangerously close to her center.

“Someone woke up feeling a little frisky.” His voice was low and sleep filled in her ear. Goosebumps broke out over her arms.

Ali hummed in answer, cocking her head to allow him better access to her neck. His teeth nipped her ear and drew her lobe between his teeth and suckled. She moaned and settled her hand over his, pushing him toward her aching center. They ran through her slickness together, coating their fingers with her arousal.

A moan escaped as he pressed a finger inside her.

“You’re already so wet for me,” Damian breathed as he ran that slick finger through her folds to her clit.

“Damian,” she moaned. Her eyes falling shut. “Breed me…”

Damian’s fingers stilled at his words and he lifted his head to stare at his wife. Unsure if he heard correctly.

Ali could feel the embarrassment on her cheeks but she turned her head to meet Damian’s eyes. “If you’re serious about wanting another baby, I won’t take my pill today.”

“You’re serious?” Damian’s eyes searched hers looking for any small trace of doubt. He found nothing. He slowly began to smile.

“Breed me Damian. Fuck a baby into me.”

With a groan his lips met hers.

#damian priest fanfic #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfics #damian priest #damian priest x oc #wwe #fanfiction #wwe smut #damian priest smut #damian priest fanfiction #breeding k1nk

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messenger-of-babel · 6 months ago

Text

Blue is a Christmas Colour

Summary: You attend a Christmas party held by the titans and spend the evening trying to avoid your crush. (Dick Grayson x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: Def pushing everything back by a day, I got sick (curse the Aussie summer heat) so I'm taking it easy. Not many warning for this one, except maybe a slightly OOC Dick? Idk I've never had to write them not in pain before.

~RiRi <33

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You had exactly one hour before the Christmas party, yet you were faced with the classic Hallmark crisis of having nothing to wear.

Sure, you had been confident in your outfit a day before the party. You were sure it was going to look nice a few hours ago, and you were convinced you were ready to leave the house and arrive early as you were getting dressed. However now that you were looking at yourself in the mirror, you just couldn't feel comfortable in the outfit. Despite being something you wore no problem last year, it somehow didn’t look right on you, the material was puckering in the wrong places and for the life of you, you couldn't get the fabric to fold down flat.

So now it was thrown across the bedspread alongside half of your wardrobe, a steadily rising pile of red, green and white. You ran your fingers through your hair in frustration. You weren't sure why you were so concerned about looking your best for a simple Christmas party. You had been invited to an end of year get together by the Titans, despite only joining their ranks earlier in August. You told yourself that it was because of being new and wanting to make a good impression, that you could let your hair down and have fun. That you weren't always the hard ass, follow the protocol type that you were at work. You told yourself that it was because you liked Christmas and wanted to just celebrate the holidays in style. Or maybe it was the fact that you were technically in the public eye at all times since you didn't wear a mask, and what if you got caught off guard on your way there? There were a million excuses that you made in about the span of a minute, just to ignore the real reason.

To try and block out the memory of how your stomach fluttered when the team leader, Dick Grayson asked if you'd like to attend. Forget the way that your cheeks burned with heat catching sight of his smile, or the thudding of your pulse against your neck when he shielded you during a mission. You refused to have a one-sided crush, so with a groan you rubbed your hands over your face.

Thirty minutes to go and you were now staring at yourself, happy yet mortified with your outfit choice.

Who said blue couldn't be a Christmas colour? you had split it up with white, but you still chewed your lip. Maybe I could say it's like a snowflake, you thought to yourself. Or like a Jack Frost theme. Still kicking yourself over your outfit choice, you had no time to dally. You were locked into this now. You threw on some accessories on your way to the door, making sure you had your keys and phone in your purse before locking your apartment and hurrying down the stairs. The lift was broken, so by the time you finally got to the lobby you were out of breath from your clipped jog, scanning your FOB to get to the garage.

Settling in behind the wheel you buckled in and checked your phone to make sure there wasn't anything you needed before arriving. The group chat was pinging with people's ETA’s, and you typed in your own "On my way, be there about ten." before locking your phone and putting it back in your purse. Your stomach rolled uncomfortably, making you tap your fingers on the wheel anxiously as you started up the car. Hopefully your subconscious wasn't too obvert, and people didn't have a laugh at you for the left field Christmas outfit. Hopefully HE wouldn’t laugh.

Yet if you had stayed in the group chat for just a moment more, you would have seen the blue heart react that popped up on your message almost immediately, before the other colours started adding to it.

You parked your car nearby the team headquarters, somewhere that you could slip away to easily at the end of the night without being worried about a stupid camera flash. The elevator ride up you couldn't help but fiddle with your fingers, rocking on your heels. You got this, no one's going to notice-

The doors slide open and you almost bump into someone, and you can feel their eyes scan across your figure like it's a hot brand.

"Hey, nice-"

"It's a snowflake." you blurt out, making Donna's eyes widen. She holds a moment before laughing, eyes crinkling as her head tips back.

"I was just trying to say I was glad you could make it." she grins, the confusion in her eyes overwritten by the laughter on her face. "And that blue is a good colour on you."

Your cheeks fill with heat, and you place your palms over them in embarrassment. "Oh."

"OH, is correct." she hums, shaking her head. "Come on, nearly everyone else is here."

Donna links her arm with yours, pulling you further down the hallway until you can hear the faint sound of Christmas music and chatter from behind a door. She pushes it open confidently, half dragging you into the room with her.

The room is decorated lavishly, tinsel and wreaths hanging off every roof and column edge. The few standing tables are filled with ornament table arrangements, and there's an icy sheen projected onto the dance floor. You wave at Raven and Kory lightly, who are standing on the other side of the room at one of the tables. Theres a small Santa hat clipped to Raven, most likely the work of the happy, red-headed alien next to her sporting two mini hats of her own.

You're still new, so you feel awkward talking so casually to some of the other members by yourself, so you stick as close to Donna as possible. She had helped you out a few times on missions, and her internal resolve int the face of conflict had helped you mitigate your own panic more than you could count. It was the same confidence you saw on the battlefield that she used now, except instead of a warzone it was a somewhat active Christmas party.

Some days you wondered how you even got into the hero business in the first place.

The first time you had caught Dick's eye was when you were going to grab a drink from the crystal punch bowls on the side, weaving your way through the small crowd. He came up beside you, giving you that stellar smile that made your head rush.

"Hey."

"Hey." you replied curtly, unable to make anything else come out of your throat.

"You look nice."

"Thank you. It's a snowflake." you blurted, fingers tightening on your glass as you filled it.

"I can see that."

"Yes."

You had proceeded to scuttle away, leaving him slightly stunned. The entire way back to Donna's side you kicked yourself, nails digging into your palm out of frustration. You needed to put some distance between you two. You couldn't get attached. You needed to shake him like the flu, push down those jitters in your hands and round up those stomach butterflies with a net.

Dick Grayson on the other hand, appeared to be much more a trouble than you had begun to imagine. It was almost like he was tracking you down the whole night, appearing when you talked to Kory, sliding into the conversation when you struck one up with Gar. He happened to be around every corner fixing his shoe or making sure that the decorations were just right.

"Had to make sure everywhere was decorated." he'd shrug before striking up some awkward small talk. Teammates had begun to giggle, and so you finally left the main room when you could take it no more, hurrying into the hallway to take a break.

You sighed deeply, putting a hand on your forehead.

Now you were alone, now you could gather your thoughts-

"Do you not like me?"

Your eyes fly open at the sound of his voice. You should have known that if anyone was going to notice your disappearance, it was going to be him first. Dick stands a few paces away from you, suit crisp and holly pinned to his lapel. He tilts his head, studying your startled expression, while hurt is written on him like a book. "I understand that not everyone gets along, but I thought we got along fine before." he frowns. "Did I do something wrong? Could you tell me what I did?" he asks you softly, and you have to stop him there.

"You did nothing wrong. “You rush out, taking a step forward. "You're fine, it's nothing."

"Then why are you avoiding me?" the hue of his eyes flicker with a clear flame of hurt, and his hands hang limply by his side.

You sigh, fingers wringing together. "Dick it isn't you, it's just I-"

"You what?" he presses, stepping forward again.

"I just-"

"Just?"

"I like you, okay? And I don't know how to handle it!" You snap, the pressure welling up in your chest like a dam. He looks stunned at your outburst, and immediately you cover your face. You blew it, and you blew it big time.

"God, just forget I said anything actually. It's just the stress, it's all been getting to me, and the missions lately-"

"I like you too."

"It's all just been building up, you know? So sometimes I say things I don't really mean...what?"

Dick begins to laugh, running a hand through the black mess of hair. "I said I like you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." he grins, coming to stand in front of you. "Why didn't you just say something sooner?"

"Because not everyone is a charming flirt." you shake your head. "And I wanted to keep things professional between us."

"I think you're very charming." he grins, eyes glinting in the low light like a cat. "Very charming and very professional. It's cute."

Your cheeks heat up, stealing the words from your chest.

"You know, I liked you since you had my six on the rooftop stakeout." He says quietly, eyes shimmering with a boyish look. A lovesick look. You raise your eyebrows in return. "The one where you almost got jumped by a henchman?"

"That's the one."

"I would have thought that was embarrassing for you."

"You stopped him, didn't you?"

"Yeah, by throwing a brick."

"See? you had it handled."

"It was the closest thing to me, and I panicked."

"Just take a compliment, will you?" He laughs, and the sound makes the tension melt from your shoulders as well. You laugh alongside him, not realising how close you had gotten. He was so close that you could fix the shift in his red tie and push the black strands of hair from his sparkling blue eyes.

"Merry Christmas." he says softly, eyes flicking around the hallway. "Say, are you much for traditions?"

You tilt your head at the sudden change of topic but follow his eyes up to see a white berried bunch of mistletoe hanging from the archway. "Did you plan this?" you accuse jokingly.

Dick puts his hands up in mock defence. "Hey, I did say the whole building got decorated." He teases, eyes flicking from the mistletoe back down to your lips. "Do you...may I?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours for permission.

You swallow and nod, blood rushing to your head as he smiles and draws closer. H his hand that comes to rest on your hip feels like a thousand degrees, and when you close your eyes and his lips slot over yours you feel like you're on fire. It only lasts for a few fleeting moments, his actions gentle and soothing before he pulls away. You find yourself wanting to lean forward and chase the taste of mint and candy cane on his lips, hazy as the giddiness sets in that you just kissed Dick Grayson.

"Wanna rejoin the party?" he asks, grinning as he sees the faint shock the kiss left you in. He offers you his hand and this time you take it with no hesitation. You offer him up a smile, seeing your own excitement reflected in the flickering of his irises.

"Sure." you hum. Maybe this wasn't the worst way to end a year.

"Oh, and no one is buying that snowflake story."

#messenger of babel #fanfic #dc comics #dc fanfic #dc #dc x reader #nightwing fanfic #nightwing #dc nightwing #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x you #dick grayson #riri's christmas special #christmas countdown #mistletoe

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a-b-riddle · 1 year ago

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A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter Two: Numbness & Pain

Daisy

I always used to think it was an exaggeration of how pregnancy is a constant state of exhaustion. But it was a lot of work growing a tiny human. Add in the fact that I'm still working 40 + hours a week and, of course, something is always causing some sort of discomfort or pain.

Swollen feet, back pain, nausea; I can't even find any solace in sleep. The 32 week mark felt so close, yet still so far. Another eight or so weeks of this seems like a drop in the bucket compared to how far along I am, but still. That still another two months. So far away when you want to be done, but still too short compared to everything I still have yet to do.

Another two months to set up a crib and wash her new clothes. Another two months to figure out a name and make decisions that I always envisioned making with a partner. Another two months of struggling to do things like picking up shit off the floor or staying on my feet long enough to make a decent meal.

But right now, I wasn't worried about the two months ahead of me and all the things I still have to do. Right now, I was looking forward to a three day undisturbed weekend. The pain in my feet and sciatica was becoming so bad, I had taken Friday off to see a doctor and spend the rest of the weekend doing nothing, but sitting in my modest little house and watching mind rotting television. I might even indulge in some spicy reading. Heaven knows its been too long.

Or at least, it hasn't been since them. That day in the office, but... that really didn't count. I often wrestled with myself about it. That one time erased any feelings I had for any of them. But I felt a bit pathetic how it now tainted every good memory I had with them. Kyle bringing me something to snack on when he realized I hadn't gone to the mess hall. Price always having a cup of earl grey tea cooling for me first thing in the morning. Two packs of zero calorie sweetner and a bit of honey.

Sweet like you.

I couldn't stand the smell of it now. I blamed it on the hormones. A lot of things made me queasy, but something about the smell of the bergamot, made me sick in a completely different way. A feeling not of nausea, but of... fear. Like the same way a pentagram could summon demons, earl grey could summon mine. As if John Price was somehow there any time the scent lingered in the air.

But he wasn't. None of them were. Fuck. Why did my thoughts always go back to them at some point? No. This was going to be a relaxing weekend god dammit. Fuck them.

Almost angrily, I hit the garage key fob, shutting the door and engulfing me into darkness; a thin line of light leaking through the bottom of the garage door. When I had opened my door, I could at least see a path to my mudroom. I grabbed my purse, ready to go in, when I felt it.

Hundreds of needles. Stabbing and digging into my feet. Not just the soles, but the entire fucking foot the moment I bared any weight on them. I pulled off my flats and it was then I noticed how angry they looked. Red and swollen and all but screaming at me to sit my fat ass back down. I wiggled my toes, trying to get some blood flow. Fuck. Why didn't they hurt while I was driving?

I manage to get onto my feet, using the car door as support. Steading myself until I was ready to take the first step. By the time I had managed to all but crawl inside, ten minutes had passed since my initial arrival time. I got off at 5:00, but usually didn't log off until almost 6:00. Granted, I work from home, but I had run out of a few essentials. Essentials now that were in the boot of my car.

Fuck.

10 minutes won't hurt. Not like there is any thing frozen. Speaking of which, I forgot my ice cream... dammit. I really need to start keeping a list on the fridge. It's hard to remember when pregnancy brain (or stomach) takes over and I slam a container in a single sitting.

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I went to the kitchen. Which considering the town house, or terraced housing I suppose now, was perfect for a single and expecting Omega it was cozy. Not like the base where going from the common area to the chow hall was about a three minute stroll.

I get down and lay on my back. Carefully maneuvering so my ass rests against the cabinets before I hook the back of my heels unto the counter top so I could rest my feet a bit. Not the most sanitary, but it wasn't like I had guests. It was just me. For now.

It took a few moments to adjust. My back ached against the hardwood, but I could already feel the relief from my feet and legs. It wasn't all that shocking that I was having a hard time with them. I had gained a considerable amount of weight during my pregnancy. When I had brought it up to the OBGYN about possibly cutting back on food, her suggestion was to simply not weigh myself at home. Now when I went in for a visit they made me turn around before taking my weight.

It was hard. I've always had a problem with how I looked and now adding pregnancy then taking away the option to diet and exercise didn't exactly help.

I pulled out my phone and was preparing to open my kindle app when I saw a tiny red bar in the top right corner of my phone. Of course. I get nice and settled and my phone is on 2 fucking percent. Whatever. I tell Alexa to set an a timer for fifteen minutes and take a little nap. Maybe meditate.

A knock on the door quickly brings any possibility of relaxation to a pause. Margaret next door was dropping off Winnie off early to go to her book club. Margaret was a widow and a recent empty nester. She had spent her life as a mother and a homemaker. When I got custody of Winnie two months ago, she had quickly stepped up in helping me with everything from child rearing to managing my pregnancy.

"Hello, Maggie!" I greeted from the floor. "Hello, Winnie Darling." Winnie had the same sand colored hair as me and bright green eyes. Her face was a shade of red and I could smell her from the entryway. Someone would need a bath today. Fantastic.

"Oh, Dear!" Maggie fussed, setting Winnie down on her feet before coming over to me. "Are you alright?" Winnie didn't bother stopping to hug me like she normally would before making a beeline toward the potty. She usually was a creature of habit, but nature calls I suppose.

"Feet are a bit swollen." I waved off. "Just resting them a bit."

"I don't have to go tonight." She set her bag down. A deep green corduroy shoulder bag that always had just what you needed in it. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, a spare tissue and even a stain pen when a spill happened at the most inconvenient time. "I'll stay and-"

"Maggie." I said, trying my best to sound at firm, but it was hard with her. No one told Maggie 'no'. "It's alright. Just a bit of water retention. Nothing to fret over." And it wasn't. I could already feel the pain from earlier subside.

"Really, it's no bother." She argued, bending over to unstrap one of her shoes. "It's a bloody stupid book anyway. I just go for the gossip really."

"Maggie." I tried again. "Really." "It's getting close to the due date and I don't want to burn out on me just yet." It was a lie. Even with her greying hair, a deepened laugh line, Maggie didn't burn out. She was one of the few Omegas I had met in my life and she could run circles around any of them, myself included.

The sound of flushing sounded from the bathroom followed by the faucet. She huffed before slipping her shoe back on. "If you insist."

"I do." I encouraged. As much as I loved having Maggie's help, I hated feeling like a burden. She had raised her children. It was time for her to do things for herself. "Besides, we'll see you tomorrow after my appointment tomorrow." The bathroom door clicked open, revealing my little Win with the front of her smock covered in water. Fantastic.

"Hi, Mommy." Winnie finally greeted. Her freshly washed hands dripping water droplets onto the hardwood. "What are you doing?"

"My feet hurt so I'm just letting them rest." I explained, looking up at her. Winnie was rambunctious as most four-year-olds without a sense of self preservation are, but when I explained to her how careful she had to be now that I had her sister in my belly, her nature had become more gentle.

It worried me as much as it warmed my heart.

"Why don't you sit on the couch?" She asked. Her head tilting to the side, face etched as if she were trying to figure out my reasoning.

"Because it helps when you lift your feet up high in the sky, Winnie Pooh." Maggie explained before looking back at me. "Well if you're sure-"

"I am. Go." I urged. "We'll see you tomorrow. Lunch around noon?" Spending time with Maggie didn't make me feel like such a parasite when I knew she enjoyed the company. Her children had all moved away, only one staying in the UK. She wasn't so alone, but neither was I.

"Wouldn't miss it." She gave a soft smile. The laugh lines around her face deepening. "See you tomorrow, Dearies." She said, retreating back outside. The soft sound of the door clicking behind her.

Winnie had laid down beside me. Yep. Definitely going to need a bath tonight. "How was school today?" Winnie went to a pre-school that was luckily covered under my insurance. Perks of being an Omega. I'll take it where and when I can.

She talked about going to the playground and painting. All the usual bits. Who she played with and new things she learned. Then came the question. A question she had asked before in passing. A subject I changed with ease before. 'Have you brushed your teeth? How about another episode of Bluey? Put on your trainers (because we can't just say tennis shoes anymore) and we'll go for a walk to the park. I had skirted around the question with ease.

"Why don't you have a mate if you have a baby?" Winnie was too young to get the answers to a lot of life's difficult questions. Why did Tiffany not like us? Why didn't she get to see her daddy anymore? Why did that man look at you weird on the train, mommy? I wish she would just stay this little. That she never needed or want to know the harsh truths about me, us.

"I..." I wracked my brain for an answer and just came up short. I couldn't think of a way to sugarcoat it. We almost had a mate. Mates. We almost had a pack that would have walked you to school on the mornings my feet were too sore or I was already running late. They would have loved you. "It... it's complicated, Darling." Is what I chose instead. The other worrisome fact is that Winnie was too young to understand the concept about mates. I had never broached the subject which only means she probably heard it from some little shithead at school.

Wonderful.

"I'll explain it when you're older." I promise, closing my eyes and letting her snuggle into the crook of my arm. "Do you wanna rest your eyes with me?"

"Like when I'm five?" She asks putting one of her hands underneath my shirt onto my belly. It had become a thing she had started since I told her about the baby.

"Maybe six." I said, looking down at her. She gave a yawn before closing her eyes.

"I think five is better."

"Okay, Win." I said. "When you're five we'll talk about it." It was a promise I hoped she would forget. But I didn't want to negotiate with a four-year-old about something future me could deal with. I wanted just 15 minutes of this. I order Alexa to set a timer to make sure we haven't dozed too far off. Winnie still needed to shower and eat. I still needed to get the groceries out of the car. But I could spare another 15 minutes.

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