#i am over 18 but do not feel like it at all

[gutsby]

Watch Your Mouth

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Silence kink. Size kink. Breeding kink. Age gap. Joel is a lot more experienced (!) Finger sucking. Orgasm denial. Soft dom!Joel x10000.

Word count: 1.9k

Maybe a hand was too much.

A kiss to stifle your cries, a tongue between your lips to steal any trace of a whimper before it could ever leave. Joel knew by the way your wet, pliant hole stretched wider and wider for him with each thrust that you’d eventually quiet down—but he needed silence now.

And he’d get it when he clamped his palm over your mouth. At first, your brows lifted with surprise, then pinched inward like you didn’t understand, then twitched again, involuntarily, when the head of his cock cleared a path straight toward your cervix. You whimpered into his hand and made a point to dig your heels even deeper in his back. Joel had promised he’d be better about that.

“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled.

Another stab. Another whimper, only louder this time.

“Sorry, baby, I’m—” Joel stopped to fight back a groan of his own, before pressing his palm down with even more force, “—sorry, jus’ need ya real quiet right now, okay?”

You tried to nod, but the weight and stricture of his grip were as heavy as lead against your face. Add to that the soft, sawing motions of his cock going in and out of your cunt and the nudge of his oversized tip at your cervix, and it was all you could do to just lay there and take it. Joel knew this was brand new to you—he’d been your first not too long ago and the only partner since—so he eased back and lifted his hand when you gave it a tug.

Grey stubble was already licking at the corners of your mouth with Joel’s minuscule kisses of reassurance when you giggled and squeezed him tighter between your legs:

“I’m tryin’, Joel. Really, I am,” you whispered.

“I know, sweet pea,” he whispered back, “I know.”

He took the palm he’d used to stifle your moans and smoothed it over your cheek, coming to rest at one side so he could kiss you fully. Maybe a hand was too much.

He’d inculcate restraint some other way, and if it didn’t come easy, a few more fucks on the forest floor like this one would probably do the trick. Your mouth opened up for his tongue just like your cunt would open up for more of his cum and the rest of your body would surely follow suit, learning to control the noises of pleasure as needed.

“Good girl,” Joel murmured against your lips, feeling you clench around him and expel a breath rather than whine. He withdrew himself to the tip, then plunged back in, “Such a good, perfect girl for me, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

At length, you yelped into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. Rather than reprimand you with words or smother your lips with his palm, though, Joel kept fucking you gently.

“‘S’okay, pretty girl, it’s okay. I know that feels good.”

His mouth was next to your ear now, praises audible to no one else but you. It added a whole new dimension to your pleasure; Joel could tell from the way your walls constricted around him and choked him, sucked him in. The feeling nearly elicited a groan from his chest, but of course, he had all the resolve of a seasoned professional. Decades and decades of practice had done that for him.

“Joel,” you mewled.

Your face was screwed up in a grimace, eyes likely to be brimming with tears any second now. Joel slowed his pace once more, felt a pang of guilt for how big he felt inside you—how those decades and decades of practice set you drastically apart from each other in experience—and this time, he didn’t try to muffle your whines. He just stroked the top of your cheek with one thumb, and with the other, snaked a path between your body and his.

Admittedly, Joel was still learning about yours. He wasn’t sure if the whimpers you’d made were born wholly of pleasure or just a sense of being stretched out and filled. Because you yourself were still learning to be vocal, Joel figured he’d give the latter a stab. He started thumbing your clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.

It worked, and it didn’t.

Your walls parted easily beneath the quiet ministrations of his thumb, opening yourself more to Joel’s thrusts, but they also tore a scream out of your throat—the kind that was liable to stir the leaves on every tree and alert any clicker within a two-mile radius to your presence.

The kind of outcome Joel had been trying to prevent when he’d brought you on patrol with him in the first place. The kind of sound he was trying to fuck out of your body completely; teach you to keep quiet and still for when the two of you inevitably got bored during perimeter watch and rolled the sleeping bag out to fuck.

Joel tensed above you and cast a quick look around. Sure, he’d picked a decently safe spot, but then you—

“Joel, I—”

Without thinking, the man stopped and stuck the first thing he could possibly fit in your mouth: his thumb. Whatever you’d been trying to say to him was promptly lost in a hum against his knuckle, lips enveloping the thick, callused digit like some tangy-flavored lolly. Joel’s hips sank back into yours, slowly, and he felt the reverberations of another moan spill over his finger.

He swallowed and stared. That shouldn’t have been nearly as sexy as you’d just made it seem, especially when your life and his hung in such a precarious position.

Joel dragged his cock back out and happened to graze a sensitive, spongy ridge inside you, which made you moan again. You hollowed your cheeks and gritted your teeth a bit more against his thumb, gripping Joel’s forearm for support as he continued to fuck you.

And, had you stayed like that a moment longer, you probably would’ve seen a shiny string of drool start to pool and stretch and fall out from one side of his mouth. Instead, Joel switched hands and popped the thumb that had been toying with your clit into your mouth, eyes glazed over with desire as they drank in the sight of you sucking his thumb again. The tip was still soaked with your warmth and slipped easily past your parted lips.

Another sound bubbled up your throat when you got a taste—Joel had always been in the habit of kissing you after eating you out, so you were well-acquainted with the flavor, but never had he fed you your own arousal on his finger. This felt obscene, something more than just pornographic as those deep, brown, lust-addled irises remained glued to where your lips closed around him.

“Y’like that, huh?” he said, voice reduced to a whisper once more while you nipped and suckled at the skin.

You bobbed your head to indicate yes, opened your mouth to tell him softly that you liked it so much—loved the taste and grit of his finger on your tongue, in fact. You wanted to show him you could be vocal, too, when Joel’s frame rose over yours a little more and seemed to blanket it entirely. Like he wanted to shield you, in a way.

“Shhhh, shhh…keep suckin’ like that. Stay still, okay?” Joel murmured, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that this was a test. He was nodding, rutting gently between your legs, wedging his thumb deeper inside the wet, velvety contours of your mouth and waiting for a look from you to say that you understood.

You weren’t sure if you did, but you nodded anyway. Joel’s thumb made a wonderful sort of makeshift gag as he continued to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he’d gotten sufficiently near, he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his thumb and leaking spit—and muttered something about how good you were for him, how nicely you fit around his cock. Then he tilted his hips and proceeded to pound you into the ground like an animal in heat. The only thing separating your ass from the patch of grass underneath it was a flimsy little blanket, and the only thing tethering you to earth, it seemed, was Joel’s cock. Your ankles locked behind his back, and his nose settled next to yours, breathing hard.

Even if he knew how to suppress his moans, the panting and strangled gasps were far beyond Joel’s control—as were the filthy, perverse words pouring out of his mouth.

“‘S’all mine, ain’t she, hon? Tell me this pussy’s mine.”

“Tell me she’s mine to fuck, stuff full’a cum, right here.”

And he gestured to the spot where your body stopped and his began, squelching noises punctuating each new thrust. Neither one of you minded the sound right now, especially when you knew where this was headed next.

Joel was grinning against your skin before he kissed it.

“She wants a baby, doesn’t she, honey? Wants me to put a baby in her and make that belly swell up pretty?”

You knew just as well as Joel that neither of you wanted children in a world like this—thoughts of breeding only occurred to you both when you were about to cum. Particularly when Joel’s thumb was slipping out of your mouth and his fingers were pinching either side of your face in a single grip, lips moving above yours. Making you meet his gaze as he squeezed your cheeks in a pout.

“You want my babies, baby?” Joel mumbled.

You felt a familiar twitch in his cock. You nodded.

Joel pinched harder and shook his head, unsatisfied.

“Say, ‘I want your babies, Joel.’”

“I want your babies, Joel.”

“Say, ‘I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me.’”

“I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me, please, Joel.”

Your voice was already hoarse from how low you had to whisper, how hard Joel’s broad and hefty stomach was pressing into your own, stealing the breath from your lungs and wreaking havoc on your brain as you struggled for air and imagined a world where your tummy was a little rounder. Plugged up with his cum one day and growing bigger with his child there inside you the next. The thought was dizzying in the abstract, enticing to the slightest degree in reality, and if you had to guess from the expression of the man currently sweating, grunting, and rutting into your body, you’d bet he felt the same.

It really was a shame you had to stay so quiet.

But, whether a clicker was five miles away or standing directly over his shoulder, Joel didn’t seem to care at all. Soft, silent reserve cast aside for the time being and hips slamming a bruising pace against your own, Joel seemed fine to let out sounds to show he was right about to cum. Grunts and whimpers were spilling left and right off his filthy, pretty tongue; his eyes were all but rolling back.

Truly, he couldn’t look more magnificent if he tried.

“Fuck, baby, I’m— I’m so close. Gonna fill you up.”

Featherlight clusters of soft grey hair were now darkened with sweat. They rested comfortably across his forehead. Under them, two thick brows furrowed in concentration.

“Gonna knock you up,” he added through gritted teeth.

That part was not a threat, but a promise.

You felt a tug and a pinch in your own stomach, signaling your oncoming release. You spread your legs wider for Joel, pressed a kiss to his jaw when he leaned in closer, made room for him to spill his load just how he wanted, and when it seemed he was a second from his peak—

A twig snapped nearby.

Both of you froze in place.

[11cupid-tarot11]

What would they say to you through text right now?

18+ Only Minors DNI!

1 -> 2

3 -> 4

DM me for private readings!

$5.55 per question!

Tips appreciated!

C@sh app and P@ypal payments only!

Cash tag- $minnieplant3

Love y'all!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

Pile 1-

"I need to figure myself out."

"Don't treat me the way you do, I don't deserve it."

"I can't talk to you right now."

"I don't want to be who I used to be. You deserve better."

"I love your breasts."

"I want to watch you pleasure yourself."

"I want to play between your thighs."

"I want to feel you."

"I really want to fill you up, so bad right now."

"Do you remember me?"

"I love you."

Don't forget to do the poll below! Take care<3

Pile 2-

"The way I have treated you was wrong."

"I am stuck in visions of us together."

"I'm obsessed with you."

"Don't wait for me please."

"I'm afraid to lose you."

"I love how you give in to me, even when you're mad."

"I want to finger you while I'm filling you up at the same time."

"Treat you like my princess again."

"You shouldn't have to wait for me to grow up, you don't deserve that."

"I'll sit alone everyday and reflect on myself until I'm ready to love you like you should be."

"Don't hide from me."

"Don't let anyone else see what's mine, even in separation your heart only beats for me, right?"

Don't forget to do the poll below! Take care<3

Pile 3-

"The heat between us is intense.x

"Will this ever change?"

"Emotions overwhelm me."

"The passion is too much."

"I can't let go of you."

"I want to watch you ride me."

"Your ass is so cute."

"I want to watch your ass while you ride me."

"I really can't stop thinking about your ass."

(lmao?😭)

"I want to live between your thighs."

"I love watching the faces you make while I fuck you."

"I want to see my cum all over you."

"I need to see how you look beneath me, how you feel, I need you."

Don't forget to do the poll below, take care!

Pile 4-

"My life is a mess right now."

"Please do what is best for your heart."

"I am scared of rejection."

"Why do I feel so lost?"

"I really want a home with you."

"you're my future."

"I want to provide you with everything you need or want."

"I want to watch you orgasm after orgasm."

"You'll be my queen in bed. I'll spoil you sweetheart."

"You'll always come first, I care about you so much."

Don't forget to do the poll below! Take care <3

I forgot to add pile 4 🙈 comment '4' down below instead! 🩷

[bsxcrxts]

I hate to sound like a broken record but I would love to hear a Drabble about tech w the pollen, like if you were both crushing really hard on each other and you wanted to spend time with him while he works on his studies and oops what's this jar of mysterious flower blossoms doing here in this little jar (be it tech or reader makes that mistake) and things happen

I am deeply sorry this comes like three months late 😭 but as my beloved TBB mutual and fellow sex pollen freak (affectionate) I owe this one to you and hope you enjoy <3

The Experiment - Tech x F!Reader

Content: 18+ MINORS DNI. basically the prompt! afab reader with gendered language (ie good girl), sex pollen (obvi lol), getting together, Tech being sweet in his own way, unprotected PiV, coming inside, praise kink (both ways tbh), workroom table sex (ooh fun) A/N: So much made up science in this fic. And a complete lack of safety protocols. For the plot. lol. Word Count: 2.9k :)

You poke your head into the room where Tech is deeply engrossed in whatever he's typing away on his datapad. He doesn't look up as you move across the space, but he greets you with a little nod of his head as you lean on the tabletop across from him a bit. You wouldn't interrupt him while he was this focused if you were any more of a stranger to him; in fact, you feel a little bit odd doing it even now, but you and Tech spend a lot of time together. He seems to generally welcome you hanging around his workstation, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was sometimes even a bit giddy to see you, happy to have someone around to listen to his long-winded scientific explanations.

"Am I bothering you?" you ask, watching him set his datapad down to start to tinker with a type of device you've never seen before. It seems likely that it's something chemistry related; another device attached to it appears to be malfunctioning.

"It's not possible for you to bother me by merely observing as I work," Tech says. "You are not disturbing me. I actually prefer your presence over others."

You feel a bit of heat rise to your cheeks but stay quiet, other than uttering a small thank you. Your feelings for Tech have only started to grow after you've begun keeping him company as he works, but you've always had a bit of a crush on him. It's hard to focus, sometimes, when he compliments you like that, though you tend to assure yourself it's often platonic or even accidental. Tech often blatantly states what's on his mind, so if he really liked you... wouldn't he have told you by now?

You watch his hands as he works, allowing yourself to be distracted. After a few moments, your curiosity about whatever he's studying gets the best of you.

"So what's that?" you ask, gesturing to a small jar sitting nearest you, across the table from Tech. There are flowers in the jar, incredibly red, and an abundance of blooms settled on the bottom of the jar. "Something you picked up while you've been out on missions?"

Tech looks up from his work finally, eyes settling on you. "Yes, that is a native plant species on an outer rim planet we briefly visited. It was implied to me there by the locals that the flowers could be used as a type of weapon, but I cannot identify the reasoning behind that assumption."

"The flowers aren't poisonous or toxic or... something?"

"The local fauna are not avoidant towards the blooms, nor can I find any documentation of such qualities. In fact, I can hardly find documentation on this species at all. So, I am aiming do my own experiment on the flowers myself, but first I had to calibrate some of this equipment."

You nod. "And you're... sure this is safe for you?" You venture. You know him well enough to understand that both he and the rest of his squad are well-known risk takers.

"The blooms should be, at a minimum, safe to handle. Myself as well as the locals touched them when I first acquired them with no ill effects. My hypothesis is that the bloom must be heavily concentrated or ingested to be considered dangerous," he answers, tone even and betraying no concern.

"Alright," you say, shrugging, trusting him. Tech is incredibly smart, he is very rarely wrong, and you're no toxicologist either; you know even less than he does about this mystery plant.

Tech looks up at you again, the final piece on the equipment clicking into place in his hands. "Would you like to assist me on some of the easier steps of this experiment?"

"Just the 'easier' steps, huh?" you laugh. You push back a little at the perceived dig at your own intelligence.

"I assume there is still a level of risk once the plant is processed, and before I identify any toxicity levels that may possibly arise, which you may find unacceptable to be involved in. And one which the thought of exposing you to unnecessarily, does not sit well with me." Tech corrects you in a straightforward but not unkind manner, then states plainly, "However, I didn't want to exclude you entirely."

The heat comes rushing back to your face. In his voice, in his cadence, knowing him how you do, it sounds like a compliment again. Tech looks up at you from where he sits so genuinely, waiting for your answer, seemingly oblivious to your flustered state.

"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll help you."

"In that case, please hand me a few of the blossoms," he asks. You reach for the jar, unscrewing the lid, almost reverently retrieving a few flowers. Nothing happens as you handle them, and subconsciously, you relax.

The blooms are pretty, really. Vibrant and delicate. You look at them in your palm, almost transfixed as you reach your hand out to Tech. Your hand brushes against his, only barely, as the blooms leave your grasp, but that's when it happens.

It's almost comical, how fast you yank your hand away, a small cloud of pollen suddenly erupting from the center of the flower in Tech's hand, a little poof of yellow dust settling in the air. He rushes to the door, sealing any contamination to this room.

"What was that?" you ask, nervously.

"I am... unsure," Tech admits. "I have never seen it happen. The blossoms appear to have a volatile method of dispersing their pollen."

"Is it dangerous?"

Tech is uncharacteristically quiet, typing rapidly on his datapad.

"Tech," you demand a bit, feeling wary, a warmth spreading through your body. It isn't necessarily unpleasant, not yet, but your uneasiness has set you on edge.

"The locals claimed it could 'make anyone do anything'..." he trails off. "It is possible," he hesitates, "that I have misinterpreted this flower's use as a weapon, and instead, it is a libidinous agent."

"What does that mean," you ask, feeling a bit helpless.

"It could be an aphrodisiac," he explains neutrally, but his brow is furrowed. "Either way, we will find out shortly."

You bite your lip. The relief you feel of the blossoms not likely being poisonous is quickly replaced by a bit of a panic at being doused by a sex pollen and essentially quarantined with the man you've been crushing on for months. The feeling of warmth from earlier has morphed into a burn, a need, sitting low in the pit of your stomach.

Tech is still typing away on his datapad, but he has turned his body away from you. His posture, usually terrible, is worse than ever, as he is practically hunched over the screen, rapidly typing something.

"So, uh," you say, feeling a discomfort between your thighs form, "what do we do?" you ask, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, sitting on the edge of the table to prevent your knees from giving out. You cross and uncross your legs mindlessly, trying to appear normal, as if unaffected by the pollen.

It isn't easy. You've been attracted to Tech for a long time. Resisting the pull to him is hard even when you're not drugged.

"There is no known cure for the effects we are experiencing, as there is no record of the effects themselves, so we have little choice but to let the pollen take its course. I am documenting my symptoms. I suggest we also document yours."

"Tech, I don't think–" you start, then sigh. "Okay, um, I have a headache, and tenseness in my muscles, and a burning sensation everywhere, I mean, it feels really, really hot in here, and... I honestly don't think I should talk about the rest." You fidget again, squirming against the table. The arousal building in your body is nearly unbearable, but you resist rocking your hips against the table in the way you want to.

Tech turns to look at you, his brown eyes narrowing behind the amber of his goggles. His eyes actually trail down your body to where your legs meet your hips, and you have to physically turn away from him before you say something rash.

You know it's impossible to hide the other symptoms from him, because you've both inhaled the pollen. He knows exactly how you're feeling. You know exactly how he is feeling. You know if you looked at him, you'd see a bulge in his black under-armor, and your patience would snap.

Tech continues to stare at you. To almost study you, as you shift in discomfort and need. You can feel it; his watchful gaze on you, in any other situation welcomed, though flustering, now is nearly unbearable. As if you are now the experiment. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see he is equally restless, though his typing on his datapad must be distracting him to some degree. That too, is falling apart, if the way he has sat down and begun bouncing his leg rapidly is any indication.

Do not look at him, your mind screams at you.

Look. LOOK, touch, tell him, tell him everything, your body begs.

You manage to focus on the wall to your left for nearly five minutes straight, which is hardly an impressive number under any other circumstances.

"How long is this feeling going to last?" you choke out.

"It is unlikely I could predict that number with any certainty. It may be that the symptoms never go away, or may drive us to madness without... manual stimulation. That may be the most effective antidote, as it were."

The look on your face must not be embarrassed enough, because he keeps talking.

"These are less than ideal circumstances," Tech starts, "to confess to you the feelings I have for you."

What?

"I have weighed the pros and cons of telling you sooner. I'm somewhat upset with myself that I haven't, as this might not be so awkward now if I had. I've noticed your increased breathing rate around me, as well as your tendency to seem eager to watch my work even when it cannot possibly entertain you. I've repeatedly attempted to compliment you, to subtly show my emotions, though I'm fairly certain it has not landed well. Regardless, I have come to hope that you do return my affection."

You're pretty sure your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you turn to look at him.

"Unless I am wrong?" Tech offers. He has a vulnerable look on his face; he'd never mess with you like this anyway, you know that, but when you look at him, he appears so genuine and desperate that the dam threatens to break.

"You're not wrong," you say.

"I rarely am."

You can't contain yourself anymore, really. You're across the room and in his lap before you can think; there's not much left of your brain that isn't clouded by either the pollen or Tech's confession to you. And then his mouth is on yours, kissing you and claiming you, heated and direct, and so very different compared to that soft confession he just gave you mere seconds ago.

You grind in his lap, the feeling of his bulge against your already wet and needy cunt almost instantly soothing the burning sensation coursing through your veins. As soon as the feeling fades it returns though, with a vengeance that makes you shudder and moan against him, folding in on yourself. It's not enough, not yet. Under different circumstances, you'd gawk at the bulge in his under-armor, kiss down his body, slow down and really appreciate this.

But you can't. You burn.

"I need you," you whine, and you almost hate how desperate you sound, if not for the fact that it makes Tech's hips buck against your own and his eyes widen.

"Say it again," he requests, but he's already complying, standing to lay you onto the table, tilting you back and pulling your hips to the edge. The pollen is having a great effect on him, too, and he seems unusually impatient; you wonder if things were different if he may have made you wait or beg for his attention.

"I fucking need you," you grit out, still trying to rut against him even positioned like this, back arching whenever his clothed cock manages to bump up against your clit. The layers of your pants and underwear are suddenly the most offensive thing you've ever felt, and you rush to undress, kicking off your lower layers until they're barely on, hanging around one leg. Tech has pulled his cock from his pants, sliding into your waiting cunt with one thrust. It shouldn't be achievable, not with his size, but the pollen has made you so wet and open that you take him effortlessly.

"You f-feel, ah, e-exquisite," Tech sighs. "Take me so well."

You've never heard him stutter before. You can't blame him; everywhere your skin meets his is a feeling of thrill, an almost soothing warmth instead of the awful burning sensation from before.

"Is t-this working for you, love?" Tech continues. "Is this what you needed?"

"Fuck yes," you whine at the new pet name, unsure of how Tech is even thinking clearly enough to be asking you such things as his hips slam into you. Meanwhile you say the first thing that comes to your mind, "Needed you, needed your cock inside me. Always want you s' bad."

Tech almost loses it then, but shudders and slams his hips into you again instead, caught up on the 'always' portion of your statement.

"Good, you're so good," he praises you softly, in direct contrast to the heady and animalistic way he's rutting his cock into you, his hands pinning your thighs open.

You gasp, never thinking you'd see Tech like this. He's typically methodical, precise, but the way he's fucking you right now is anything but. Through the pollen, you don't have the presence of mind to analyze what you thought your first time with Tech would be like; all that matters is how amazing he's making you feel now, the sound of his cock in your wet cunt as his thrusts grow sloppy practically makes your eyes roll back and you whine.

"M'close already," you rush out, the feeling of the effects of the flowers intensifying tenfold. "You feel so, oh–"

The table is digging into your back, the pollen is rushing through both of your veins, you feel crazed, but you've also never felt this good.

"I-I am not going to last either," Tech states, clearly also a mess. His goggles have slipped down his nose and been pushed back haphazardly, and are now slightly askew; his face is flushed, his eyes dilated so wide they're nearly black. He slips a hand to your clit, and, impressed with his clear thinking of your pleasure in spite of the pollen, and the rush of sensation that shoots through you at his touch, it's all you need.

Mere moments later, you clench around him, and the strength of your orgasm is something you've never, ever felt before, by your hand or anyone else's. You moan his name, bearing down hard around his cock, and he nearly doubles over.

"Good girl, good, good girl," he praises you, "Did s-so well for me," he continues, leaning down and murmuring into your ear as you finish, and it sends aftershocks wracking through your body. He's helpless but to follow behind you soon. Now that you've cum, he seems to have surrendered entirely to the brain fog created by the pollen, thrusting into you like nothing else matters, chasing his high.

"W-where?" he stutters again, ever as considerate, though he knows it would take every ounce of his willpower to fight the flower's effects and pull out from your cunt now.

Luckily for him, you don't want him to.

"Inside," you breathe, "Need it inside of me," and it's not an exaggeration, as you can still feel the effects of the pollen trying to return even after you've finished; you're pretty sure you literally need him to cum inside you to be free of the symptoms.

His orgasm is just as strong as yours had been, and he nearly collapses on top of you, shoving his cock into your cunt as you feel him twitch and spill inside of you. Tech's eyes never leave yours; his brow furrows and his mouth falls slightly agape as he maintains eye contact with you while he cums. His beautiful gaze once again feels welcome on your frame. It sends you into another weak orgasm, finishing around him, milking his cock, until he can take it no longer and pulls away from you, collapsing into the chair, leaving you lying on the table. The two of you are silent suddenly, but for both of you panting with exertion.

A few moments pass before you sit up, perched on the edge of the table, and find yourself feeling very vulnerable. You eye Tech, slouched in the chair just a few inches from you, and wordlessly, you slide back down into his lap, where he wraps a tentative arm around your waist.

Another few moments pass before he clears his throat.

"Please forgive me for my miscalculation," he says into your shoulder, pressing a light kiss there.

"What do you mean?"

"I should not have exposed you to danger by underestimating the flower blooms. Something worse may have happened."

"But I really like what did happen."

"As did I," Tech says. "I take it this is not the only time you would entertain such... attention from me?"

"Far from it," you laugh lightheartedly, pulling back from where you've tucked your head over his shoulder to look at him. "But we can skip the flowers next time, since we know how the pollen affects people now." you joke.

"You are not open to more experimentation?" Tech asks.

"Tech," you gasp, mock-offended.

"Kidding, love."

"Well," you hum back, "maybe some pre-negotiated experimentation isn't out of the question."

Tech's eyebrows raise and a little smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. The two of you are going to have so much fun together.

[harmshake]

Roman Reigns & Jax Teller x Makenna (Fem Black OC) | 18+, NSFW, angst, smut | ~4,400 words

Happy reading! Read my other Jax story and Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

Distant moonlight illuminating the black sheets felt as far away as Makenna felt lying next to a man she'd known half her life. Something was off. Maybe it was the way he fucked her tonight, something he'd done a hundred times over, but she felt unsettled by him now. His warmth felt foreign, his muscled arm trapping her against him beneath the covers feeling truly like a trap. 

Maybe that was it. The savage strength, the rough play, it was succulent when it was but it could also taste raw, harsh like blood on her tongue after biting down a bit too hard as he pounded in her a bit too hard, as well. A pacing she usually craved and savored but something was off.

Or maybe it was because they had sex in a not-so-private place where how he manhandled her and how she moaned for him was likely heard by others just beyond the bedroom door.

The biker clubhouse was not the ideal place to do anything as far as Makenna was concerned, a place for Jax to handle his business with his crew, but it was often interrupted by cops trying to catch any shady dealings going down. She usually stayed away and wished Jax would, too, wish he'd come away with her, but that had never worked and never would. He was married to this business, it was his first love. And she was his second...

"I think this is the last time you're gonna see me," she spoke quietly but firmly into the dim darkness of the room. She didn't bother to look at him to see his reaction as she could feel it—his eyes boring into her and his arm around her shifting off so he could sit up next to her with an airy laugh of disbelief. She sucked her teeth in response to his response. "Naw, I'm serious. Tired of you hiding me and fucking me here of all places."

"Pssh. Yeah, right. I ain't hidin' you. This is where I am most nights when I work late and you know that." Jax sucked his teeth, too, and ran a hand back through his longish, dirty blond hair as he shook his head. "And since when do you gotta problem with it?"

"Since now," Makenna breathed out a sigh. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked to the carpet on her right at her pile of clothes strewn there, thinking it was time to get dressed. "I'm tired of this for real, Jax."

"Of what? Bein' with me? Me makin' love to you?" he asked, his slightly gravelly and deep voice rising just a little. She knew that tone and knew it well. He was looking to argue. And she was not. Nothing left to argue about.

"You don't love me and that's fine. It is what it is. But I...I want more than whatever the fuck this is." Makenna crawled out of his bed and waved her arms around her, around the bedroom. She didn't belong here anymore, in the shadows of underground chaos, secrets of men she shouldn't know, and lies she shouldn't have to tell to protect them. She never belonged.

"What the fuck this is is you tryin' to blame me because you don't know how to deal with your feelings." Jax's tone tried to cut her, that argument he wanted to have, and she wasn't having it. She ignored his words and went to grab her skinny jeans to slip on instead. But suddenly he was behind her, letting his frustration slip into words. "I've told you how I feel about you and it's never enough, is it? Told you I love you and you still leave. What do you want from me, huh? You want me to call you my ol' lady and show you off to my boys? Want me to move you into my home that I'm barely in? Want me to get you a ring? Tell me what the hell you want!"

Makenna snatched on her pink tank top hastily, hoping to hurry out of there before he or she said or did anything else they'd regret. Yet when she went to get her combat boots, his hand swallowed up her wrist to turn her to him. Not rough like before when he had both of them pinned to the bed but rather pleading, the look on his face matching when his blue eyes shone with an aggravation that withered into desperation.

"Baby." The word slipped so gently from his pretty, pink lips then, surrounded by his mustache and beard that grazed her skin when he kissed the widow's peak where her dark coils fell around her face. Makenna felt a tremble flit across her skin from his touch and she couldn't tell if was from disgust or desire. Because they've had this argument before and it always ended the same way...

"Jax," she uttered when he kissed her cheek, the hand that wasn't holding her wrist going to hold her jaw as he tipped her face up to look at him with those desperate eyes. She'd seen and heard it all before and yet she still let him pull her lips to his for the softest kiss. 

"Just tell me what you want, baby. And I'll do it." Jax pressed his forehead to hers then. Pleading again. Makenna wanted to feel disgusted again but the desire was forming again, too, delicate warmth swelling where he touched now, warmth she recognized. Warmth that he knew how to turn to fire and how to tame...

"I don't know," Makenna whispered before he covered her lips with another kiss. Suddenly, that felt like the truth, all of her conviction melting away as his lips moved on hers with that desperation that tasted no longer raw but bittersweet. 

Bitter as she knew better, god, she knew damn better. Years of the run-around and every time she tried to run away, she ended up back in his arms. Back in his bed. Back beneath him as he tugged off her clothes, kissed down her body, and held her to his mouth...so sweet-like. His grip on her lovingly sweet and his licks on her achingly slow. Tasting her sweetness, listening to her sweet moans that she tried to hide in the pillow.

"Tell me, baby...or is this what you want?" Jax asked in a warm purr to her wet essence, that wet glistening on his lips that he licked as he squeezed her thighs in his hands. Makenna tried to reply but he dipped his head down with a long flick of his tongue that made a whimper escape her mouth, instead. He let out a pleased hum before he said under his breath, "You wanna act like I ain't no good for you but...this feels good, doesn't it?"

That pillow in her grasp rasped with her nails running along its satin, her body running hot and trying to run up his bed as he made it feel good, made her cum good, but he kept her in place with his stronger grasp as she whined to him. And Jax drank it all in, her whines, her nectar, her soul as he slowly coaxed them from her with his arms around her and lips on her throat, telling her that bittersweet tale that she wished she could forget.

"I love you, Makenna. I love you so fuckin' much..."

The moonlight seemed closer to earth as they stepped outside in the parking lot of the clubhouse, Jax taking her hand, walking her to her car, and holding her door open for her as she slid inside. The silver rays shone from behind his head and made him look like an angel in the night, his halo only disappearing when he leaned down to give her a goodbye kiss that tasted bittersweet...

"You not gonna forget to call me, are you?" He was teasing her with his wolfish smile, but Makenna could only sniffle with a laugh as she wished could forget that, too. Yet his phone number was etched in her mind, and so was her address in his if he hadn't heard from her for too long.

"I might," she teased back but before she shut her door and started the engine, she pulled him down by the leather lapel of his cut to kiss him once more as there was something she did forget. "And I love you, too."

🖤

She should have known better than to stay up late with Jax the morning before work, but it was nothing new to her, hurrying to brush her teeth and style her curls after sleeping through her alarm, the sun blaring through her window waking her up. But Makenna refused to spend the night with the man if he wasn't her man—something he hadn't been in a long while. She remembered that time they called themselves "dating," when she called him her man and he called her his ol' lady, and everyone from his best friend, Opie, to his mother called them stupid for not getting married. Especially when she'd given three more years of her time and loyalty—time and loyalty that Jax dedicated moreover to his club—pretending to be something they're not.

Nonetheless, Makenna didn't know how to stay away from him and he wouldn't stay away from her, either. Too much of that warmth still simmering in her blood when she looked at him and when he touched her, yet that same warmth boiling over when she realized over and over she was wasting her time. Jax was a road to nowhere, she knew it. But he was also a familiar road that always seemed to lead to a place that felt like home...

"Aha. Look who showed up to work this mornin'." 

She glanced up from the briefs on her desk that she wasn't proofreading, too lost in her thoughts, to find that deep, jesting voice belonging to her colleague looming over her with another manilla folder of her share of legal documents to approve in his hand outstretched to her. His other hand held a paper cup of coffee that she took from him with a little grin and mumble. "Thanks, Joe. How'd you know I needed this?"

"'Cause you came in late again. Don't know why you bother skippin' it. If you're runnin' behind, a coffee stop won't make you later." He watched her take a sip with his own grin as she raised her other hand to playfully flip him off. "Watch yourself, sweetheart. Not my fault you had a long night."

"Mind the business that minds you, 'sweetheart,'" Makenna said with her grin growing bigger when his did, too. She couldn't help but tease him when he made it a point to tease her, something he did often as her cubicle neighbor and teammate for the majority of cases the law firm took on. 

Yet when Joe lingered after dropping off her paperwork and drink, his eyes on her the same dark and heady color as the coffee that warmed her palms, she could tell he had more to say. She knew what it was from the way he wiped his hand over his salt-and-pepper beard, the way his teeth skimmed his bottom lip for a second. His tell that he was thinking on how to phrase it.

"I'm just sayin'...you could do a lot better."

And there it was. Makenna had to roll her eyes but her grin stayed painted on her cherry-glossed lips, anyway. There wasn't much to read between the lines with his words, not when she'd heard them before at after-work parties or brief encounters in the break room. Joe's flirting was almost as constant as his teasing, something she couldn't deny was endearing, but she told him before like she fixed her lips to tell him again: She would not get romantically involved with her co-workers.

"Yeah? Like who? You? Don't start with me." She smirked and challenged him with another sip of her coffee that he made how she liked, black with three sugars. She challenged herself to keep her rule, no matter how attractive Joe was, no matter his little romantic gestures, no matter his rich brown gaze that tried to melt into her as he eyed her with the corner of his mouth pulled up into the handsome smirk he returned. None of it mattered when her heartbeat was elsewhere, doing god knows what, likely raising hell. Just like the hell she seemed determined to endure to love him...

Joe folded his arms over his broad chest, all of him broad as he was a beast of a man that she always found too athletic to be in a suit and corporate setting. But she found it charming when he'd told her in the past he'd given up a football scholarship to study the law instead. And now he studied her before he told her with his deep voice growing quieter and for her ears only, "Just tell me this and I'll drop it...you think that's what you deserve?"

He meant it as a compliment, Makenna knew that, but the question made that bittersweet scold her tongue when she tried to drink her hot coffee. She abruptly regretted getting friendly with him these four months since he'd transferred to her floor and telling him anything about herself as she didn't need Joe, her co-worker, to tell her what she already knew.

"Remember how I said mind your business? Learn to do that sometimes," Makenna spat and watched his grin wilt until she instantly regretted snapping at him. She did mean what she said as this wasn't the first time Joe had something to say about her choices off the clock, but she knew he meant no harm. Quite the opposite. She planted her elbows on her desk and rubbed her forehead before she added carefully, "Listen. I appreciate your concern but can we not do this today? I'm tired."

"Fair enough," he said and ran his hand over his beard again. More to say. "How about tonight then? Gon' be too tired to grab dinner? We gotta lot more of these briefs to review before we file. Let's get it done with pizza to fuel us. My treat."

Makenna let out a sigh, almost a grunt at him being so damn sweet...but a veggie pizza did sound yummy. "Yeah, alright. Fine. But I swear to god if you mention—"

"Don't nobody care about your raggedy 'boyfriend,' Makenna," he sighed, too, throwing up air quotes, but grinned and she couldn't stop the chuckle that jumped out of her. "I care 'bout you. That's all."

"I care about you, too, asshole." She glanced up at him as he rolled his eyes at her with a smirk as she did at him, simply nodding his head as he finally retreated to his desk beside her. They were separated only by a divider as tall as their computer monitors, but Joe was so tall that even when sitting, his eyes were still visible as he looked down at the paperwork on his desk. She heard the pages of them flip and his subtle cough as he cleared his throat before she heard herself murmur just as subtly, "You know he's not my boyfriend. I don't know what he is, but...he's not that."

That made his gaze slowly lift from his work as they met hers, wrinkling at the corners with another smirk she couldn't see. But his voice floated over the divider, still deep and jesting, as usual, but now with a smoldering in it that she only felt from one other man. "Good to know, sweetheart."

🖤

The two boxes of veggie and pepperoni pizza were scattered on Joe's dining room table along with a mountain of manilla folders and papers he and Makenna tried to keep organized with a stapler in their hands when there wasn't a slice in them. Each box had one or two pitiful slices left, anyway, both of them munching more to keep busy and stay open-eyed than to get full as Makenna didn't realize they were this behind on filing.

"Do you have a page from Dawson versus Richards somewhere over there? I only have two out of the three." She sorted through the stacks of paper on her side again just to be sure until she looked up at Joe holding a piece of paper in the air. Makenna got up to grab it from him but almost ripped it in half when he didn't let go right away, watching him chuckle a bit at her attempt to pry it from his strong hand before he let her have it. "Can you stop gettin' on my nerves for once? You almost made me tear it!"

"Just makin' sure you're awake. If we don't get this done tonight, Morgan will bitch tomorrow," he said and she already knew that's exactly what their boss would do. Joe turned his wrist still in the air to roll up his navy dress shirt sleeve and peep at his watch and raised his thick eyebrows with a whistle. "Shit. It's already past ten."

"Jesus," Makenna grumbled as she plopped back into her chair and stared at the work they'd yet to touch. Her eyes were growing bleary and she thought about running out to get them coffee but she wanted to be able to sleep once they were done. That's when her cell phone buzzed that was perched on a folder to her left. A tremble slipped through her to see Jax's name on the screen and, oddly, to see Joe's eyes on her, as well, his gaze filling with what looked like disappointment. She didn't let it stop her from swiping to answer, jumping up from the table again and into Joe's living room near the front door where she kept her voice hushed. "Hey, baby."

"Hey, darlin'. I know it's late but I wanted to tell you good night and I love you. Haven't talked to you all day to tell you sooner." His gravelly voice was low and beautiful in her ear and yet she felt strangely guilty to enjoy it with Joe in the other room. 

"I love you, too. And it's okay. We've both been working," Makenna nearly whispered. She thought about telling Jax that she was still working but thought twice about it as she remembered what she told Joe at the office. He wasn't her boyfriend and didn't need to know her whereabouts. Especially if they were with another man, even if that man was just her colleague.

"Yeah, but I don't like goin' that long without hearin' your voice. And you sound tired so I'll let you get some rest, baby. See you tomorrow after work?"

"Of course." Makenna held her phone to her forehead after they hung up, silently cursing herself for being so in love with a man who wasn't hers before she collected herself with a sigh and headed back to Joe who was stapling a set of papers together until he muttered a tsk tsk and shook his head at her. "What?!"

"You just added another ten minutes to our workload. Hope that call was worth it," Joe replied, his words judgy but his tone teasing, like always, and making her suck her teeth with a grin.

"We'll be done before midnight. Bet."

The time on her phone screen read as 1:48 am when Makenna finally had a moment to check it. All of the files were neatly arranged on the table in alphabetic order, the staplers they borrowed from work on top, when Joe eased up from his chair to stretch his arms above his head before a yawn slipped out of him. It was contagious as she covered her mouth with a tiny yawn before she leaned over to stretch, too, touching her fingertips to her toes in her black socks. Her stiletto boots were by his door and waiting for her to slip into so she could head home and crawl directly into bed.

But when she stretched back up, she saw Joe standing in front of her with two Spanish-style glasses caught between his big fingers in his right hand and a bottle of Tapatio tequila in his left. "We deserve to celebrate a job well done. That shit was brutal."

"It was. But you don't think it's too late to, uh, celebrate?" she asked but took one of the glasses from him. She knew he was just as exhausted as her as he looked it, all but coming out of his dress shirt that was unbuttoned to reveal his white tank top beneath, as well as his long, dark hair flying away with wisps that were barely tamed in his a messy bun. 

"Only if you think so." Joe shrugged but when she tapped the rim of her glass, he shot her a smile as she let him pour her a shot's worth before himself. He pulled his chair that was on the opposite end of his table to sit near her, holding his glass out until she clinked it with his. The tequila was tasty and mostly smooth but Makenna wasn't keen on shots, the slight burn making her cough and making him giggle as he reached to gently pat her on the back, the deep warmth of his touch that spread over her from his huge hand startling her into another cough. "You good? I know the first one is always the roughest, but damn."

"Yeah, and I don't need another because we have work in the morning." She hoped it was just the tequila that felt warm all over her already as she watched Joe watch her, too, with those brown eyes that crinkled when he smirked.

"And what time did you get home last night, hmm?" he teased and poked her knee. Makenna went to fuss at him for mentioning what she told him not to, but he realized his mistake and quickly added, "Oh, my bad. Don't answer that."

They chatted for a bit when he went to pour himself a second shot and put the bottle down on the table, but Makenna suddenly felt the taste for another, too. Felt the need to rinse that bittersweet taste from her mouth when she poured it herself and he observed her with surprise. 

"Three-thirty," she said out of nowhere after sipping the shot slowly until she finished it. Joe looked at her perplexed and she repeated, "Three-thirty. That's when I got home." 

That should have been her last shot, she knew that, but the tequila kept getting smoother and Joe kept getting easier to talk to and funnier as he made her laugh until she was doubled over in her chair. He also kept getting closer or maybe it was her gravitating towards him as one moment there was a gap between them and the next their knees were nudged together. She had half a mind to pull back but that warmth of his felt good, even in such a small amount—and it felt even better when he wrapped her in his strong arms for a bear hug when she made it to the front door a little over an hour later to head out.

"Want me to get you a Lyft?" Joe said when she didn't turn to open his door, gazing down at her with his hands on her shoulders. 

"Naw, I'm good," Makenna lied. She felt fine but the truth was she didn't feel ready to leave. A truth she was ashamed to admit as she was certain it was the tequila's fault. It made the warmth of his grasp smolder into her skin under her blouse, that same smolder she saw in his dark eyes earlier filling them now as she gazed up at him. The same smolder that she thought no one but Jax could make her crave. But before she knew it, the tequila gravitated her to him once more, first with her hands cradling the sides of his bearded face and then with her lips on his, craving the soft, fullness of his mouth that was so warm and inviting. 

The shock quivered through them both, she could feel it with her body rolling with heat where his slightly shaky hands fell to her waist. Pulling her closer but then pushing her up against his door until his warmth surrounded her, until their kiss got good, deeper, messier, until their breathing got frantic, too frantic that Makenna thought her heart would beat right out of her chest. That damn tequila, it made her struggle to pull away from him, Joe holding her so deliciously tight, anyway, until she whimpered on his tongue, "Tell me we should stop. Tell me this is a bad idea."

Another lie, one that she should have known better for Joe of all people to let her utter as his nose still nestled to hers as he whispered back, "Doesn't feel like a bad idea to me..."

His nose nestled to her neck next before his mouth did, too, tracing the length of it with his soft kisses that tried to remind her of another but his lips were thicker and his hand larger when it fit between her thighs to hold one with long fingers that fit at the seam of her pants, too. The heat that had been swirling in her seemed to gather at the tips of those fingers as he swirled them so lightly at that seam, but right where Joe seemed to know she wanted them when he looked at her as her lips parted with a light moan to match.

"...How did that feel to you?"

"Good..."

He caught her next moan with his tongue, the next swirl of her heat with his middle fingers sank into it, and her next lie with his bulky arms boxing her in underneath him as his hips drove forward with deep, grinding thrusts that made her hide her face in his pillow with whines that all felt so familiar yet so new.

"Whatchu mean you can't take this dick? You takin' me so good...fffuck, sweetheart. I know you can give me another one..." Joe's silky hair left tingles along her skin as his lips left trails of kisses from her spine to her shoulder as he hooked his hand around her waist then, not letting her run from that good feeling.

It didn't matter how much she whined and cried and clutched at his sheets, Makenna wanted more of that good feeling. It felt too warm, too pure, too much like the feeling she had been missing out on for a while. She didn't know what to call that feeling but it felt like not worrying about her phone buzzing in the other room. It felt like letting herself indulge, letting someone spoil her while asking for nothing in return. 

And as she watched Joe's fingers that weren't dug into her skin slide up his covers that she gripped until they laced through hers, his breath warm on her skin and his words sweet in her ear, she decided she'd run in the wrong direction, and from that good feeling, long enough.

.

.

.

A Rock & A Hard Place

Thanks for reading! I don't know what possessed me to write about both Jax and Roman today, but it felt right. Hope you enjoyed. 😍

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[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist

“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.

“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.

“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”

Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.

“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.

“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”

“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”

You stilled.

Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.

“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”

God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”

Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.

Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.

In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.  

Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.

“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”

Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.

“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”

The thought did cross your mind.

“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.

“You gonna stay over?”

You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”

“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.

“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?

Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.

Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.

You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.

“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”

Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!

Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.

“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”

Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.

Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.

Would you be a good stepmom?

God, you hoped so.

You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.

The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.

“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.

“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”

Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.

Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.

At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.

“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.

Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”

“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.

He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”

Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.

“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”

Joel nodded, still uncertain.

“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”

Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?

“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.

“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”

“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.

The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”

Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.

The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.

The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.

This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.

He had to ask you to move in.

Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.

“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”

“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”

Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.

“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”

He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.

“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”

You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.

“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.

“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”

The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.

“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.

Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.

Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”

Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?

“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.

“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.

“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.

“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”

Tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

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[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Five

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour including toy use. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.6k (I am so sorry)

A/N : This was originally over 7k long so... at least I managed to get it down to under 6k. Tumblr is still only letting me tag five people at a time, so tags will be in comments again.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR

MASTER LIST

Chapter Five

Minutes passed, your back against the door, barely breathing, the stuffed beagle clutched to your chest. Eyes closed, you tried to focus on any little sound that might tell you what he was doing, if he was even still out there. Part of you wanted to go to him, to carry on your conversation. To be near him. You’d seen a new side of him and it was enticing as it was frustrating; how could he be so aloof one minute and so sweet the next?

Your thoughts strayed to that night, to the way he’d kissed you and how his body had felt pressed against yours.

Tearing yourself from the door, you moved to your room, creating distance between yourself and temptation. But yet felt like a spring, coiling tighter and tighter with every little thought of him.

Surely he knew what he was doing to you, the effect he had every time he touched you and smiled that damned smile.

You barely knew him but he gave you butterflies. He stole your breath every time his dark eyes found yours.

Fuck. 

You felt like a silly school girl with a crush on the teacher, knowing that it was wrong and nothing could happen. Only, something had already happened. Just the thought of it brought heat to your cheeks and that fluttering feeling to your stomach.

Locking your bedroom door, you let your attention drift to your nightstand. To the top drawer. Cautiously you pulled it open and peeked inside. Embarrassment swelled inside you, reminding you why you’d been trying so hard to ignore it. 

It was as full as any other drawer in the room. No expense had been spared. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what half of the toys were for. Some you could guess but others were a little more confusing. All different shapes, colours and sizes. Some so large they looked downright painful.

Frustrated, you slammed the drawer shut.

You weren’t a virgin but you didn’t consider yourself experienced. Sex for you had been awkward fumbles with guys you’d grown up with, shameful moments that often ended in disappointment. Dates had been approved by your parents, and no one they approved of wanted sex unless it could be used to force an engagement.

But, now that you had the opportunity to experience new things, you didn’t even know where to start. Despite your age, you felt like a naive child.

Changing into your PJs you fell into bed, TV distracting you from thoughts of Billy and having dinner with him. When you finally settled to sleep, you pulled the stuff beagle to your chest again and realised that you could spell the faintest hint of his cologne on it. And, all you could think about as you drifted off, was how it would feel to fall asleep in his arms.

Panic gripped you the moment you woke, a thousand anxious thoughts about the evening to come filling your head. You didn’t know what you were going to wear or how you’d manage to make it through an evening without saying anything stupid.

You tried to read over breakfast but you couldn’t concentrate. The tension inside you, the desire that you didn’t know how to suppress, seemed to wind tighter and tighter until you couldn’t sit still.

Taking a cold shower didn’t help either. Instead, the cold water reminded you of his touch and, suddenly, it felt like his hands were all over your body, touching you and caressing you in ways that drove you crazy.

Returning to your bedroom wrapped in a towel, you threw yourself onto the bed, the frustration boiling over. 

He’d suggested talking, getting to know each other, but how were you going to do that when you couldn’t focus? How could you have dinner with him when all you could think about was him kissing you?

You realised there was only one thing you could do.

Closing your eyes, you fumbled with the top drawer of the nightstand, reaching in and pulling out the first toy your hand fell on. You took a few deep breaths before looking at it; blue silicone with a slight curve, not big enough to be intimidating but it still made your cheeks warm. A little button at the base caused it to vibrate.

Oh fuck.

You took a few more deep breaths, knowing you had to at least try. Parting your legs, you slipped the still-vibrating toy between your thighs.

Your breath hitched at the first little touch. The second touch was firmer, pressing the tip against your clit. Oh. It felt good, better than any pleasure your fingers were capable of creating. Biting your lip, you tried to keep from moaning, as the pleasure quickly started to mount inside you. You turned it off, knowing you needed more, you needed everything.

Gingerly, you reached between your thighs, feeling how wet you were before guiding the toy to your entrance. A low, gasped moan escaped you as you began to slowly slip it inside you.

Letting your head fall back on the pillow, you tried not to think too much about what you were doing, instead finding your mind drifting somewhere far more dangerous. To thoughts of him. And the more you thought about Billy, the better it felt. Soon enough, your eyes were closed and you were imagining him on top of you; the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress and his dark eyes fixed on you as he fucked you. You were certain that he’d know exactly what he was doing, that a night with him would be better than anything you’d experienced before.

“Billy,” you moaned softly, remembering the kiss, remembering the way he’d made you feel wanted. It became harder to hold back the sounds that were desperate to escape you as you descended further into the fantasy, moving the toy a little faster.

Your free hand reached for the first thing it could find, bringing the stuffed beagle to your lips to stifle your moans. Suddenly all you could smell was his cologne and it was almost enough to push you over the edge. 

Finally, you turned the vibrator back on and came almost immediately.

“Mr Russo,” you keened softly into the stuffed toy, every gasped breath filling your nostrils with his scent.

Your cheeks burned with shame the moment it was over, but you kept the toy inside you, imagining him as the sort of man who’d take his time before pulling out, making sure you were finished.

Suffice to say, you were mortified once you’d dropped the toy to the floor and your heart rate had started to slow.

It didn’t feel right, in fact it felt awful, like you’d used him for your pleasure without permission. But, you finally felt better. The tension was gone. You could finally relax and spend the rest of the day finishing The Picture of Dorian Gray, hoping it would give you and Billy something to talk about.

You drew blood early, getting it out of the way so you could spend an obscene amount of time obsessing over what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a casual little black dress that wasn’t over the top, but made it look like you’d made an effort. After tying back your hair, you put on some natural looking make-up, hoping it would give you a little more confidence.

And, when you finally stepped out into the penthouse, you could have sworn you saw his breath catch.

Billy was dressed more casual than you’d ever seen him, wearing a red sweater and dark jeans. A look that definitely worked for him. He watched from the sofa as you made your way towards him.

“You look lovely,” he said and your heart stuttered.

Glancing down at yourself, you bit your lip, feeling like it was too much. “We usually only have take out on special occasions back home, so...” you shrugged.

“I feel a little under-dressed,” he joked.

“You always look nice,” you remarked before realising what you’d actually said. “I mean... you always dress very nicely.”

“My tailor will be glad to hear you say that,” he smiled as you sat. “The food should be here soon. I hope you don’t mind that I ordered the fixed menu.”

“That’s fine.” If anything it made it easier; you wouldn’t have to worry about the food list.

“Wine?” He offered and you nodded eagerly, despite not being much of a drinker. “Is Riesling okay?” You weren’t sure so you nodded again.

The bottle and glasses were already on the table, in fact his was already half-empty. He filled a glass and you leaned to take it from him, your fingers brushing against his and, for a second, he didn’t let go.

“You smell nice,” he muttered, his gaze lingering as your cheeks warmed. You hadn’t put on perfume, so you assumed it must be your vanilla body wash. “How’s your hand?” He asked a moment later with a touch more reluctance.

Holding it up, you showed him the gauze bandaid across your palm. “It’s fine. Nearly healed.”

Billy nodded, his guilt obvious. But, thankfully, he didn’t say anything else on the matter.

“I finished Dorian Gray,” you told him, stopping an awkward silence from falling.

“Oh? And what did you think in the end?” He asked, crossing his legs so he could turn more towards you.

“I’m not sure yet. It was a lot to take in.” You shrugged. “He did some horrible things; especially to Sybil and poor Basil, but some of it wasn’t all that bad? And then when he tried to change, Henry made him feel bad about it.” You took a breath, feeling the weight of his scrutiny on you. “I get that it’s a cautionary tale about excess and hedonism, but I don’t think anyone should be punished for trying to enjoy themselves...”

“It was a different time,” Billy offered, still completely focused on you. “Dorian’s hedonism damaged almost everyone unlucky enough to fall under his spell.”

“I know, I just...” you let out a huff, not sure how to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think if he’d been given the opportunity, he could’ve changed for the better.”

“That’s very optimistic of you.”

He said optimistic but you were certain that he meant naive.  

“I still don’t understand why you like it.”

“Well, it’s -” he was cut short by the sound of a buzzer before the elevator doors slid open. “Saved by the bell,” he remarked, grinning as he got to his feet to go collect the food from the doorman and tip him.

While Billy got the food, you made your way to the dining table, taking your glasses and the bottle with you. Places were already set and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you noticed the candles. Realistically, he was probably just trying to make things nice but, in your mind, all you could think about was how it seemed intimate. 

You took a seat and a long sip of wine while Billy unpacked the food, almost covering the whole table. The smell was enough to make your stomach grumble. Once everything was on the table, Billy dimmed the lights with his phone and lit the candles.

“Dig in,” he told you, starting to fill his own plate.

You started with the things you knew you liked, taking a little and starting to eat, but it wasn’t long before you found your attention drifting to him, watching through your lashes. You watched him eat, watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, the way he licked his lips.

“What?” He asked, fighting back a grin. Your gaze dropped to your place and your cheeks started to burn. “It’s okay, you can ask.”

“What’s it like? When you eat, I mean,” you asked softly, knowing it really wasn’t any of your business.

“Same as when you do,” Billy offered without seeming to care, “only flavours are muted and it never makes me feel full.”

“Oh,” you looked up and instantly felt bad.

“What’s that look for?

“What look?”

“You get this look sometimes, like something I’ve said has made you sad. Like you feel sorry for me.”

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, “I just... I can’t imagine not being able to enjoy things like food and sunsets.”

“It’s not that I can't enjoy them,” he shrugged again, “I just enjoy them less than I did when I was human.”

“Do you miss being human?” You asked before realising how inappropriate it was. You shook your head. “I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t’ve -”

“No, it’s fine,” he answered, reaching for his glass and taking a long, slow drink. “I do miss it. This - this wasn’t something I chose.” 

There was nothing you could say to that. There were questions, yes, but you weren’t entitled to the answers and you didn’t want to risk ruining the evening by asking them. Awkwardly, you reached for your glass and took a drink.

“There’s that look again,” he remarked with a soft smile, “don’t worry, I’ve had enough time to come to terms with what I am now.”

The small talk continued over food, mostly about the food, until you felt like you couldn’t eat another bit. Sinking back in your chair, you closed your eyes and let out a slow exhale. When you looked at Billy again you found him grinning at you as he reached across to top up your glass.

“I didn’t order any dessert but if you’re still hungry I could -”

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. “But thank you, this was really nice.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he told you as he refilled your glasses. “I want you to enjoy your time here. I know things got off to a strange start, but I want you to be comfortable here.”

“I am - I mean, I’m trying to be,” you struggled to explain. “I’m still getting used to it, but being able to go out with Karen really helped.”

“She enjoyed meeting you. She found you very interesting,” Billy answered, an indecipherable smile on his lips. “I find you interesting too.”

The comment caused your head to pound a little harder in your chest and your thighs to press together. The lump in your throat kept you from responding. A moment later, he changed the subject.

“Let’s go sit on the sofa,” pushing his chair away from the table. You nodded, pushing back your chair and standing, hesitating when you looked at the mess on the table. “Don’t worry, the maid will deal with it.”

“Maid?” There was a maid?

“She usually comes around 4am,” he answered, waving his hand towards the sofa, indicating that you should go while he got tonight’s blood from the kitchen.

Wine glass in hand, you sat on the sofa, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city and, again, you couldn’t help but think how intimate it all felt. Billy soon joined you, leaving some space between you, but not much - even less when you folded your legs beneath you and turned towards him.

“So,” he started with a smile, “what do you want to know?”

What followed was a long conversation about Billy, finding out what you could. He’d been a vampire for fifteen years; in his human life he’d been a Marine and, now, he ran a private security firm that mostly catered to vampire clientele. He was born and raised in New York but had no family. And he was wealthy enough that he simply laughed when you asked about the credit card in your name.

Then, he turned the spotlight on you.

You explained that you were from the Midwest, a little middle-of-nowhere town, and that your family were part of an insular, conservative community. You’d spent the last few years helping homeschool some of the local children, but you’d decided you’d wanted a change. You’d wanted to see the world and experience new things. He didn’t ask why you’d taken the job, and you didn’t offer the information, instead you tried to make it seem like everything was simple and happy in your life. 

All the while, his eyes stayed fixed on you, as he sipped your blood.

“Does it unsettle you?” He asked suddenly. “Seeing me drink your blood?”

“N-no,” you tried to speak around the lump in your throat, “I don’t mind.”

“But you have questions?”

“Some?” You answered and Billy gave a nod, indicating you could ask if you wanted. “The other day, when you mentioned it was still warm, is that...” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

“It’s better, yes,” his voice dropped to a low whisper, tongue running over his lips. “It’s like drinking from the source.”

“And is that...” Again, you couldn’t finish, feeling breathless just at the thought.

“I don’t bite. You never have to worry about that.” But the way he was looking at you said something else entirely.

“Good,” you finally manage to take a breath, “I don’t want to be bitten... or turned...”

Billy simply nodded.

“What can you taste when you drink my blood?” You asked, remembering what he’d said about knowing you hadn’t been sleeping or eating. “You said you can tell certain things from it?”

“Hormonal changes can affect how it tastes,” he offered.

“That’s why you want me to keep healthy and eat right?”

“Yes, it makes your blood taste better, but it’s also because I don’t want you getting sick. I’m not entirely heartless,” he smiled.

Silence fell and Billy took another drink. The care he took not to waste a single drop had your heart beating faster and, this time, when he noticed you watching, you didn’t look away. You couldn’t look away. Maybe the wine had helped lower your inhibitions, or maybe you were starting to feel more comfortable with him. Whatever it was, the moment didn’t end until he’d finished the whole glass.

Billy licked his lips again, and you noticed his gaze drop to the neckline of your dress as you took deeper breaths trying to calm your racing heartbeat, causing your breasts to awkwardly rise and fall. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and your eyes dropped to the empty glass in his hand, now resting on his lap and - fuck, your eyes snapped back up awkwardly, the moment you noticed the way his pants were tented. He was hard. 

“I, uh -” you started, getting to your feet, “- I need a glass of water.” 

You didn’t wait for a response before heading to the kitchen, giving him space to deal with whatever that was. Your heart was still pounding uncomfortable, your hands shaking as you found a clean glass and started to run the cold tap. Filling it, you took a slow drink, hoping to drown the butterflies in your stomach.

You didn’t hear him move, didn’t realise he was right behind you until his hand came to rest on the edge of the counter beside yours, his cold thumb brushing over your pinkie. Your breath caught as his shadow swallowed yours on the wall, and your cheeks continued to burn. Desire and embarrassment warred inside you, but Billy didn’t speak until you did.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing without your consent,” he answered softly, against your ear.

He inhaled slowly, his nose inches from your hair. Then came that low, restrained groan. He sounded like a caged animal, desperate to be released, and you realised you were the one holding the keys.

For a second, you remained frozen, knowing that he was giving you a choice. It was a bad idea to complicate things between you, but some part of you wanted this, wanted him. Suddenly all you could think about were the fantasies you’d played out with the vibrator that morning.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped back, pressing yourself against him.

His hand twitched, his thumb covering your pinkie, holding it.

“Say yes,” he near-demanded, wanting your unequivocal consent, his lips ghosting your ear with every word. “I need you to say you want this.”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I want this.”

A split-second later, his hand was on your stomach, pulling you back against him, letting you feel the hard press of his cock against your lower back. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin in a way that made your heart race faster. And you quickly realised how much Billy liked that.

“That’s right, little hummingbird,” he groaned, moving his hand to palm your breasts over your dress. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

All you could offer was a whimper in response, breath catching as his hand started to slip down your body, reaching beneath your dress. Cold fingers trailed up your bare thighs, causing a shiver of delight to run up your spine and for heat to pool between your thighs.

His knee pressed gently between yours, urging your legs apart, letting his hand move higher. You bit your lip and tried to stifle a moan when you felt his fingertips against the wet fabric of your panties, but holding back anything became impossible the moment his cold fingers slipped inside. His touch was light to begin with, teasing, fingers stirring between your folds, drawing a gasp from you. A low growl vibrated through his chest as he coated his fingers in your arousal, his touches getting more pronounced the wetter you got.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as his lips and fingers continued their assault on your senses. You didn’t even notice his hand move from the counter until you felt his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling gently to turn your face enough so he could kiss you. His tongue against the seam of your lips was almost enough to distract you from his finger slowly easing its way between your walls. You whimpered and moaned against his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, keeping you in the kiss until every inch of his finger was buried inside of you.

“Fuck, hummingbird,” he groaned, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a grin on his lips. You moaned as his finger flexed inside you, slowly starting to withdraw before pushing in again. “Don’t come. That’s the only rule you have to follow right now; don’t come until I say you can. Can you do that?”

“I -” you could barely think to answer.

“If you can’t, I’ll stop,” he warned, his finger stilling and causing you to keen at the loss of sensation.

“Yes,” you moaned.

Your relief was palpable the moment he started to move again. The fingers in your hair, tugging softly so his lips could return to your neck. It didn’t feel real. It felt amazing in a way you couldn’t comprehend. Your heart raced faster when you felt him start to press a second, cold finger inside you, and you realised you were gripping his thigh. Hard. 

“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned against your neck. “Practically dripping all over my hand,”

The words alone were enough to cause you to clench around his fingers, letting you feel them more acutely as they started to move a little faster, fucking you to the knuckle each and every time.

“Billy, please...” you pleaded, not sure you could take much more.

“Not yet,” he groaned, his lips against your ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe in a way that made everything so much harder for you. “It’ll feel so good if you just wait.”

You wanted to wait, to play his game, but how could you when it already felt so good? You felt yourself on the precipice, every muscle tensing, your slick walls tightening and gripping his fingers. Your eyes closed tight and you almost felt ashamed of yourself, like you were going to ruin the moment because you couldn’t control yourself.

His fingers stilled again just before you could go over the edge.

“Not yet,” he told you, voice calm but commanding. “Just breathe. Let me be in control.”

You managed a weak nod before he pulled you back into another kiss, fingers staying perfectly still for a few moments, not moving again until he felt you start to relax. This time his fingers moved in shallow thrusts, bending inside you, pressing against your soft inner walls like he was searching for something.

Your whole body shuddered when he found it and you saw stars.

“Does that feel good?” He asked and you nodded, unable to do anything but moan when his fingertips brushed against the same spot. “That’s it, little hummingbird, sing for me.”

More moans slipped from your lips, each more desperate than the last, your fingers digging into his thigh through his jeans.

“Billy, I-I need to...” you begged, words fracturing into another cry of pleasure.

“Do you need to come?” 

“Y-yes!”

“Say it,” his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine and right to your core.

“I-I need to come,” you pleaded, feeling more brazen than you had in your whole life. You’d never been the sort to beg to come, but the thought of it thrilled you almost as much as his fingers inside of you.

“Then come for me.”

Your reaction was instantaneous, so much so that you had to wonder if it was because you’d needed to come or simply because he’d demanded it. Your body started to tremble and shake, your walls clenching around his fingers as they continued to move inside you, and the sounds you were making - if you hadn’t felt completely out of your mind, you would have been embarrassed by the desperate noises.

As you came you barely noticed his hand slip from your hair to press against your chest, resting over your racing heart. Your head turned and his lips quickly claimed yours, swallowing down your moans, his fingers still dragging out your orgasm until your legs felt so weak you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand without his arms around you.

Without warning, Billy's hand slipped from between your legs and he swept you off your feet, carrying you back to the sofa. He sat back with you on his lap, holding you close, your body trembling so much that you worried it would never stop. It felt like he’d broken something inside of you and your body didn’t know how to process all the pleasure he’d created.

Being on his lap didn’t help, but it would have been a lie to say you hated the feeling of his arm wrapped possessively around you and his hand resting on your bare thigh. You curled against him, your head on his chest as you slowly caught your breath. 

Billy’s lips pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you finally started to sill.

“Are we going to -”

“Not tonight,” he answered, not needing you to finish the question. “I’m not going to rush you.”

Even though he was still hard, he didn’t want anything else. You weren’t sure if it was a rejection or if he really didn’t want to rush you, but it left you feeling even more uncertain.

When you found the nerve to lift your head, he gave you a gentle smile, his fingers squeezing your thigh tenderly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Any conversation felt like it would be for your benefit rather than his. Billy seemed perfectly comfortable with what had just happened.

“Thank you,” you told him softly.

“For what?” Both confused and amused by the comment.

“For - for asking first,” your voice broke a little.

His gaze darkened, an unasked question on his lips. He was angry, not at you but at what the comment implied. Thankfully, he didn’t ask, didn’t push for an explanation you didn’t want to offer.

“You always have a choice here,” he reminded you. “You can always say no to this. I’ll never hold it against you.”

You stayed silent for a beat. “What if I don’t want to say no?”

“Then I’ll make sure you enjoy your time here with me.”

“But that’s all it’ll be?”

“Yes,” he answered, “I won’t pretend I can offer you more than that.”

“Okay, good. I-I don’t want anything serious.” The comment earned a strange smirk from him. “What?”

“I just didn’t expect you to want anything so casual. You’re constantly surprising me.”

“I -” you paused, biting your lip, “- I want to have fun. I want to experience the things I’ve been missing out on.”

“That’s something I’d be more than happy to help with, hummingbird,” he told you, smiling that cocky smile, making you want to melt.

“I’ve never...” you trailed off and saw his eyebrow raise, “I mean I’ve never done anything like... friends with benefits?”

“I thought I was paying you for your blood, not your friendship?” He smirked, recalling the terrible comment you’d made when you’d been angry with him. Then he shrugged. “It’s simple; we hang out and, if you want me to touch you, I’ll touch you. We’re just two adults having fun with an equal say in what happens.”

“Even when you give me rules to follow?” A shiver running up your spine as you remember the way he’d commanded and you’d obeyed.

“I told you, I like to be in control. But if it doesn’t work for you, there are no consequences.” He fell silent for a moment, the smirk on his lips seeming to grow. “Unless you want consequences.”

All you could do was nod, not daring to ask what kind of consequences he might have in mind.

“I have a rule too,” you dared to say.

“Oh?”

“You can’t lie to me.”

Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that but he quickly conceded. “That’s fair. As long as you follow my rule, I’ll follow yours - even when you’re in bed with your vibrator.”

Your heart almost stopped and your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment. 

“How did you -” you could barely get the words out, completely mortified.

“You moaned my name,” Billy continued, not in the least bit embarrassed. He’d heard you across the penthouse. “All I could think about over dinner was how wet you must have been and the way you moaned when you came.” His hand moved to your cheek, making sure your gaze didn’t drop in embarrassment. “It’s been a long time since I’ve jerked off, but listening to you had me coming all over my hand.”

Biting your lip, embarrassment and shame filled you, but Billy still wouldn’t let you look away. His thumb grazed your lip and left you speechless.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told you, “those toys are yours to use whenever you need to, as long as you remember that your orgasms are mine now.”

You weren’t used to anyone being so candid but, you had to concede, it was exactly what made Billy the best person to help you experience new things. He knew what he was doing and he wasn’t shy about what he wanted.

“I’m not embarrassed,” an obvious lie that Billy decided not to call you on. “Things like that just aren’t exactly acceptable where I’m from.”

“Was that your first time pleasuring yourself - or was it your first time using a vibrator?” He asked, sounding like he was enquiring about something utterly mundane.

“Using a vibrator,” you answered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Well, you never have to feel ashamed of doing anything that makes you feel good while you’re here,” he told you with enviable confidence. 

“Like Dorian Gray?” You offered with the smallest of smiles.

Billy let out a huff of laughter. “Does that make me your Lord Henry?”

“Only if you plan on leading me astray,” you answered back.

“Oh, little hummingbird,” he smiled, leaning towards you, “you’ve got no idea.” Before you could answer, his lips were on yours again.

Minutes ticked by with his lips on yours, enjoying everything about the moment, about him. When he finally pulled away, you let out a content sigh, smiling as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“So, this rule of yours... I take it you have a question, something you want me to answer honestly?”

You were quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Have you ever done this before, with someone living here like me?”

“No, not like this,” he answered instantly, and it was good enough for you.

As he pulled you close again, you found yourself yawning, exhaustion catching up with you. Billy checked his watch.

“Looks like I’ve kept you up past your bedtime,” he joked, sitting forward and helping you to your feet. “We can continue getting to know each other tomorrow night, if you’d like.”

You nodded, barely even noticing that the pair of you were moving until you found yourself at the door to your rooms. His weight shifted from left to right, and you knew without looking that he was still hard. Your fingers tangled with his sweater at his waist and, for a few seconds, you just looked at him. Billy gave you a smile before pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Goodnight, little hummingbird. And remember, I’ll know if you break the rules.”

Biting your lip again, you nodded, and finally pulled yourself away from him and slipped through the door. 

End Note : I never know what to say after the spicier chapters so... hope you enjoyed this and it lives up to expectations. Thanks so much for all the genuinely lovely comments and feedback over last four weeks, I'm loving how much people seem to be enjoying this story!! Hope you all have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (Note: Tumblr is currently being stupid and only letting me tag five people at a time, so I'll be tagging people in the comments. Sorry if you get tagged twice!!)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl @rosey1981

[munsonsmixtapes]

From the prompt list I am BEGGING for 14 and 48 with Eddie PLEASE 😩 (optional but it could also be so cute if he kneels down and ties readers shoe after it gets untied before reader even notices)

I love this idea! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

Prompts used: 14. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you believe it?” and 48. “I’m going to fucking worship you.”

Eddie x fem!reader

cw: MDNI 18+ oral (f receiving) wee bit of hurt/comfort

Despite being with Eddie for over a year, you still felt yourself getting insecure about your relationship. He had been your first and only boyfriend and you still weren’t used to that kind of attention or affection all the time. Other men hadn’t really even looked your way until he came around so constantly having someone treat you with so much love and care was still new.

Eddie was one of the sweetest men you had come across in your town full of assholes. He’d always pay the check when you’d go out, keep your favorite snacks in his pantry, and even lay his jacket down when you came across a puddle so your shoes wouldn’t get wet.

He was also so patient with you when you got insecure about your relationship. Any time you’d get jealous or need a little more reassurance, he’d just pull you into his arms and tell you that he loved you and that there was nothing to worry about, but that only worked for so long.

It usually got bad when you were falling asleep, your anxieties reaching their peak and getting the best of you. You’d just let it all swirl around in your mind, driving yourself mad as you laid awake, your boyfriend sound asleep next to you.

What if it was all an elaborate prank?

What if he was just lying about loving you to make you feel better?

What if he was going to break up with you because your insecurities were getting too much?

Those were the questions that haunted you even though you were sure that it was all in your head. That was really the root of the problem. It was all just unnecessary worries that your brain had come up with out of nowhere.

“And then I said-honey? You still with me?” You zoned back in and realized that you were with Eddie in his van as he was driving you home after a date. He gave your thigh a squeeze where his hand was resting on it and you turned to him.

“I’m good, Eds, I swear.” You definitely weren’t, but you didn’t want to tell him that. You couldn’t have that conversation yet again.

“No bs?” That was Eddie’s way of asking if you were lying because he knew you would just so you wouldn’t have to have the conversation. He always wanted you to feel like you could talk to him about whatever was bothering you.

“Maybe a little.” He pulled up to his trailer and and put the van in park before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning to face you.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Let’s talk inside.” He rounded the front of the van and opened the door for you. He held his hand out to you and you took it, hopping down from the seat.

Before you could get too far, Eddie stopped you and crouched down to tie your shoe. It warmed your heart that he would do stuff like that for you even when he was upset with you. It showed just how selfless he was when it came to the people he loved.

And Eddie did love you. He loved you so much that he couldn’t handle it. His heart was just so full of the feeling and it hurt him knowing that you had yet to believe that he really did feel that way about you. Maybe just one more time and you’d be sure.

Eddie led you inside the trailer and you were grateful that Wayne wasn’t home to hear you argue. Eddie kept hold of your hand, giving it a squeeze as soon as stepping closer to you. His other hand grabbed hold of your jaw, gently lifting your head so you would look up at him. His eyes bored into yours and you already knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you believe it?” His other hand moved to the other side of your face, moving it so that it was only inches away from yours.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I just-”

“What, honey?” His voice was so soft and sweet and you felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“No one’s ever felt that way about me before and I guess-I guess I just don’t understand why someone could.” Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, honey,” he rested his chin on top of your head while your arms wrapped around his waist. He had no idea that you had felt that and wished he had asked instead of just assuming that you didn’t love him back.

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t believe that you were apologizing for the way you felt. You couldn’t control that.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey.” His hands rubbed along your back as he pulled back to look at you. “How about I show you just how much I love you?”

“Show me?” You bat your eyelashes and Eddie felt his dick getting hard.

“I’m going to fucking worship you.” He pulled you into a messy kiss filled with clanking teeth and noses pressing into cheeks, but you eventually figured it out. He licked into your mouth and you let him in as he backed you up to the couch.

He pushed you down onto it and placed himself on top of you before pulling you in for another rough kiss. Your hands slid down his back and grabbed onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. It dropped to the floor in a messy pile and Eddie’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of your cardigan. He unbuttoned them one by one and it eventually opened, your tits on full display.

Eddie had seen you naked so many times, but every time always seemed like the first when he got a view of your naked chest. He dove in and licked a stripe across one of your nipples before pulling the whole thing into his mouth, giving it a suck.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands moving into his hair and pressing into his scalp. He sucked and licked, causing multiple moans to fall from your lips, tugging onto his hair as you did so.

Once you thought he was done, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing you to bury your fingers further into his hair, pulling on whatever strands you could grasp.

“Eddie, oh my god, so good.”

“You like that?” He chuckled and moved over to your other tit, hovering his mouth other it, wanting to make you beg for it.

“More,” was all you were able to say. “Please, Eddie.”

“Love your tits, honey,” he said, glancing up at your face before moving his gaze back to your breasts. “Honestly the best set I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Don’t believe me?” Of course you believed him. He complimented your tits any chance he got.

“I don’t know. I think I need some more.” You were desperate for his mouth back on you, needing to feel his teeth and tongue.

“Okay,” he nodded and took your other nipple into his mouth, giving it an even harder suck and you arched your back in pleasure.

“Sh-shit, Eddie. Fuck!” Eddie felt himself get even more hard at your moans, always loving watching you come undone by just him using his mouth. He licked, sucked and bit until your nipple was red and kissed his way down your stomach.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he said as his lips got to your bellybutton. He pressed a kiss to it then continued down to the top of your skirt. “I mean it, honey. You’re a fucking smoke show.”

Your cheeks were burning at his compliments and you loved how easily how they fell out of his mouth, knowing how much he meant them even though your insecurity told you that he was lying.

“Can I take this off? Need to taste you.”

“Please take it off. I need to feel your mouth on my pussy.” Your words came out so breathy and desperate and Eddie found your neediness so hot.

He quickly pulled your panties off out from under his skirt and toss them aside before quickly unzipping the side of your skirt and both of you widened your eyes when you heard a ripping noise.

“It’s fine,” you waved it off.

“I can sew it back together,” he assured you before pulling the skirt down your legs and letting it fall to the floor.

Eddie got off of the couch and lowered himself down on his knees before grabbing onto your ankle and pulling you so your ass was at the edge of the couch cushion. He then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he took sight of your pussy.

“Damn, sugar, this might be the wettest you’ve ever been. Can’t wait to get a taste.”

He held up one of your legs and slowly kissed all the way up to your thigh then did the same thing with your other one before draping both of them over his shoulders. He then dove into your cunt, his nose brushing it, causing you to let out a gasp. He started out slow, licking back and forth from your slit to your clit, then began to suck.

“Eddie,” you moaned, your hands finding his hair again. He continued to suck and lick, swirling his tongue around as he did so, driving you absolutely wild.

“Think this is the best you’ve ever tasted honey, swear to god,” he moaned.

Eddie grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you closer so he had more access to your cunt and shoved his tongue inside it, swirling it around as you reached your climax. Your legs tighten around his head and his hands moved to your waist, digging into the skin as he worked his magic with his mouth.

“Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

“I think you already did,” he looked up at you with a devilish grin then pressed a kiss to your bud before removing your legs from his shoulders. He rested his hands on your knees and looked up at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Now do you see how much I love you?”

“I think I’m starting to.” With that, Eddie picked you up and carried to the bathroom where the two of you shared a much needed shower, exchanging “I love you’s” to each other while you cleaned each other up.

[xannsin]

ghost

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative sex, Praise

Précis: You just want to feel heard. And you were, but not just by him.

A/N: ‘ghost’ will do lmao, enjoy, @squimpsters & readers! :)

Edits & Look-overs: 2

Monday, 12:45 AM.

You're sitting down on your rather unpretentious bed in the barracks. It's so quiet that you can hear your heart thumping just a bit in your ears, but the silence is quickly interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up to see Captain Price, standing above you. Your eyes meet his before he speaks in his stern tone,

“Your first task is night watch. Make sure nobody even gets close to base, that's all I have to say. Oh, and don't let Ghost intimidate you, L/N." and before you could even reply, Price spins on his heel and walks off. "Yes, sir..." you whisper to yourself as you were alone again. It was rather chilly out, and you were expecting the temperature to just decrease at the night went on. You put on your uniform as well as an extra undershirt due to the chilly weather. You stand up and dust yourself off before your thoughts return to what Price said. "Don't let Ghost intimidate you.”

What's that all about?

You step outside base, looking around for your night watch partner before spotting him when you turned a corner. He was leaning against a wall and was well aware of your presence for quite a bit now, but he only glanced at you once. “Hello,” you say in a cordial tone, but he just glances your way, looking you up and down as if he was judging you.  You shift uncomfortably. “Hello.” he replies after a few seconds, his tone cold and unwelcoming. 'Don't let him intimidate you,' you thought. “Well, 'low me to introduce myself. I'm Simon Riley, you can call me Ghost. I'm your lieutenant.” he adds, his voice just naturally menacing.

“Nice to meet you, Ghost.” you say, reaching out for a handshake. He stares at your hand for a few moments before reluctantly reaching his hand out. His handshake was firm. You could feel how strong his hands were through his gloves. “Let me remind you that night watch isn't a duty to be taken lightly, as it's to help protect against intruders and security breaches in-base.” Ghost says, letting go of your hand. "And we have to do this... a lot?” you ask.

“We're not always g'na be on night watch. It just depends on where we relocate to.” he replies. You nod your head, even though you still have so many unanswered questions. You think if you overload him with questions you'll come off as overbearing, so you remain quiet.

As the night goes on, you find yourself in a one-sided conversation. It's like talking to a brick wall with Ghost. It's obvious he doesn't open up right away, or maybe even at all. You're trying to find something entertaining to do because night watch is awfully tedious. “So, what's your story?” you ask, hoping he'd say something. Anything to break the silence. The awkward tension. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out a quiet grunt which you could only assume meant 'don't wanna say'.

You sigh, slightly disappointed. This'll be a long night, no doubt, but you won't give up easily. “Well... how about-” you're cut off by the sound of his gravely voice “Listen, you seem like this nice person and all, but with all due respect, could'ya just shut up for a few minutes?" he sighed, not even looking at you once as he spoke. You remained silent for a few seconds, soaking in what he just said — it gave you some sort of perspective on who and how he was. Just a little. “Yeah, sure. Sorry.” you eventually say. He remained silent.

You just really wanted to dig a hole in the ground, crawl in it, and just hide at that point, but you had to remind yourself that your job currently isn't to socialize, it's to protect. That’s your priority. So, the whole night, you do just that. Sort of. You find yourself asking a few questions or two, and Ghost is starting to get so tired of it he just doesn't care.

“Why do you wear that balaclava?” you ask, hours already having passed rather quickly. “Can't share my identity,” Ghost replies curtly. “Why?” you ask right after. “Because I would be made a top target by enemies.” he sighs, “you're really startin' to piss me off.” he adds. You roll your eyes before going quiet again. This cycle repeated for the remaining three hours. Over the full night, he’d learned to tune you out, which was unfortunate for you because that just meant he wouldn’t listen to whatever you had to say, important or not.

Over the span of a month, you’ve grown frustrated. It’s obviously true that first impressions are important because they leave long lasting affects, minute or major. Ghost probably sees you as this chatterbox that won’t leave him alone, but, you can’t see that that’s not the case.

One night, a little over a month after, you’re on night watch again, right beside Ghost. You’re silent, which is a little surprising to him. A part of him wants you to say something but he doesn’t admit that and never will, his pride gets in the way of that. He wouldn’t admit he tolerated you more than he tolerated others. You annoyed him, sure, but you were consistent about it. Usually people he pushed away would just give up, but you, you just…

You didn’t give up. You always checked up on him after missions, patting him all over worriedly to check if anything was hurting behind that gear, always talked to him and he listened. He was growing soft on you, and he hated it. He hated the feeling of being close to someone, it made him feel like there was some sort of warmth in his heart like how someone in love would feel.

Jumping back to now, you’re standing beside him on night watch. He glares at you every few seconds until it catches your attention. “What?” you ask, almost chuckling. “Wha — nothing.” Ghost mumbles, looking away and fidgeting subtly with his pistol before placing it back in his holster. Your attention is on him now. “Something bothering you?” you ask. “It’s nuthin’, Y/N.” he breathes out. “But you’re all fidgety. What’s wrong?” you inquire, but no answer that time either. “Let it go, yeah?” Ghost murmurs. You shrug and put your hands up before putting them back down and looking away from him. There goes the silence again. You’ve been realizing a main factor you talk to Simon so much is because you don’t necessarily enjoy the silence between you two. It makes you uncomfortable, and you don’t know why. You thought you were going to be the first to break the silence, but —

“Beautiful night, innit?” Ghost utters. You pause for a moment, “uh… yeah. Yeah, it is.” you reply. The two of you look at each other for a couple moments. You stare into his breathtaking eyes, almost mesmerized by them before he looks away. You clear your throat awkwardly, crossing your arms as you sigh. “Are the nights always like this? This peaceful?” you ask, making Ghost’s head spin to look at you. “Mhm. I go out here for ‘night watch’ just to relax out here.” he replies, making you raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘relax out here’? How are you relaxed while on night watch?” you ask. “Yea'. You didn’t hear this from me, but night watch isn’t necessary for where we’re located currently.” he replies, looking at you as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his tattoos and light healed scars that aren’t too visible at a first glance.

“Wait, what?” you ask. “How’s it not necessary? Captain Price assigned me to-” “Price lied then, didn’e? I guess he just wanted you to have some form of responsibility because you’re not ready for the missions and real duties yet, and he sees it. Jus’ my train of thought.” Ghost interrupts. You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed before opening your mouth to speak, and you’re interrupted again. “I wouldn’t complain either. Just do your duty and you’ll get a real one in no time.” Ghost says. You cross your arms and scoff, “Whatever.” You could hear Ghost chuckling under his breath, as if he was laughing at your expense. You decide not to comment on it because you’re not trying to start anything with him.

12:00 AM, Two hours later

You’re exhausted. Your eyes are threatening to close shut and never open for a good while at any minute. Your body aches with fatigue, and overall, you’re just ready to go to bed. Ghost is doing perfectly fine, he just shifts his position every once in a while due to standing in the same position for a long time, but other than that, he’s fine. He glances at you and sees your state, causing his eyebrows to furrow. “Tired, are we?” Ghost chuckles. You’re too tired to reply, you just rub your eyes and groan quietly. “Tsk, so this is what you’ll do on a mission? Fall asleep?” he sighs, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to his side.

You’ve never been touched like this by him before, but you’re not exactly against the feeling. You rest your head on the side of his chest, letting out a heavy sigh. Ghost began rubbing your shoulder with his big gloved palm, letting out a sigh himself. He closed his eyes tightly, screaming on the inside. Why was he enjoying this moment? What happened to ‘Ghost’, the world's second-most desired British clandestine operative? He just feels like a little kid in a candy store right now. That’s the effect you have on him, and he hates it.

He lifts up the arm he’s not holding you with to look at his watch. It’s already morning, 12:04 AM. “Guess night watch is over.” he sighs, looking down at you and noticing your breathing is slow and relaxed. You fell asleep. He lets out a frustrated sigh before picking you up and hoisting you over his shoulder with ease. He felt you instinctively hold onto him before drifting back off to sleep. He chuckled under his breath, his arm under your ass as he carried you back to base.

Once he stepped through the door, it was oddly quiet aside from the clanks of glass. Probably Price having a drink. Ghost sighs as he walks to the barracks where he’d plop you down on your bed. He put his hand on the bed handle, staring at you. He bit his lip subtly, his teeth grazing over his bottom lip as he watched your restful state. He draped the thin blanket over you, watching as you shifted slightly and curled up into a ball. He sighed and walked to his bed, which was across from yours. He lay down, feeling pretty restless with all the thoughts running through his head. Most pretty much being about you. He looked around and saw the barracks were empty besides you and him being in it. Everyone was probably having their drinks.

He grunted and reached down, resting his hand on his crotch. He rubbed his bulge with his thumb, breathing out quietly. He thought about how your hands would feel on his. Those beautiful, soft hands. He palmed his bulge, groaning under his breath as he did so.

Wait. No. This is wrong.

“God, Simon, you’re pathetic,” he muttered under his breath. “Just go to bed,” he thought. He let go of his grip, his hand slightly trembling. He sat up, took off his vest, before laying back down and rolling over.

The next night was the same, night watch. Same time, same place. The two of you were standing next to each other, except a little closer this time. It was more comfortable, too. Ghost adjusted his earpiece and you did the same. “Night watch is so mundane,” you eventually sigh. “No-one ever said it was going to be fun, did they?” Ghost responded, looking at you. “Ghost-”

“Simon,” he interrupts, “just call me Simon.”

You look at him, confused, but you nod nevertheless. “Okay, Simon. Simon, I think that I should be trusted enough to have an actual responsibility, don’t you think?” you ask. He pauses for a few moments, sighing. “You just need to prove that you are. ‘Trusted enough’ isn’t in our dictionary here, you know that. I may trust you but that doesn’t mean everyone else does.” he says. You shrug. He’s not really wrong. He looked at you before looking at your hand. “C’mere.” Simon said, taking you by the hand and pulling you close to him. “What’re you doing..?” you ask, your eyes wide. He didn’t reply for a while. You heard him curse under his breath, the word muffled by his mask. “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you take that mask off? Just take it off,” you say. “Show my face?” Simon asked. You nod. “Negative.” he says. “Are you ugly?” you ask. He scoffs and lifts his mask up to his mouth, “Quite the opposite.” he grinned before taking you by the chin and leaning in, pressing his lips against yours. You flinch from shock, but you quickly return the kiss. The tension was finally dissipating. Maybe all the two of you needed was this. The tension was palpable for the past few month or two.

His tongue slips inside of your mouth, letting you taste him for the first time. You become weak at the knees, and he realizes it. Simon quickly sweeps you off your feet, picking you up and pinning you against the base’s wall. He stood in between your legs with your back pressed against the wall, your tongues swirling together sensually. The taste of his mouth causes a moan to slip out your throat involuntarily. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as the two of you continue making out. Your bodies were flush against each other’s, and you felt Simon slowly grinding against you, feeling his bulge pressing between your thighs.

You two break the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Simon panted softly, looking at you in the eyes. You reached over and put your thumb on his cheek, rubbing softly. Your fingers trail up at the edge of his balaclava, and your eyes asked for permission to remove it. Simon hesitated, but eventually he nodded softly. You slip off his balaclava, revealing the most handsome face you’ve ever seen. The brown hair, brown eyes, handsome face… you leaned in to kiss him again. Both of his hands move from your thighs to your ass, causing your legs to wrap around his waist even tighter. Simon broke off the kiss to begin kissing your jawline, sucking softly and leaving small red marks in his wake. He tilts his neck down further to kiss your shoulder blades, bringing out a soft gasp from you as he bit down and licked the mark. It’s like he was marking his territory.

All of a sudden, he put you down. He started taking off your gear, one by one. He wasn’t gentle about it, either — he wanted what he wanted, and he was going to get it. He finally got your upper gear off, leaving you in your undershirt and bra. He lifted your shirt above your head before tossing it onto the pile on the ground of everything he took off. He removed your boots and your pants with everything else on it. You were a little cold, but the warmth he gave you quickly made up for it. Simon began slipping his pants off with haste, just leaving them at his ankles.

“Turn around.” Simon commanded, and you obliged. You turned around and let out a small gasp as he bent you over. You could feel his bulge through his boxers poking at your sex through your panties. You put your hands on the wall of the base as you stayed bent over. Your legs begin trembling as your panties are quickly slipped off to your ankles. There it is. You feel Simon’s heavy cock slapping against your ass cheek, wetting it slightly with his pre-cum. “P-please be gentle, I haven’t had sex in-”

“No promises.” Simon interrupts, stroking his thick tip against your dripping wet cunt. He rubs his cock against it, doing everything but slipping inside of you. You whine at his teasing strokes, wanting to feel his cock fill you to the brim. “I want to hear you beg for it.” Simon says, placing his hand on your ass and squeezing. “Please, Si… put it in… please…” you beg. Simon smirked at your pathetic words and noises, but he gave in nevertheless. “You got it,” he whispered before slipping his tip inside of you, slowly thrusting in. You whined at the intrusion, and he reached forward and held you by the neck gently, rubbing a spot in your neck with his thumb as he took you from behind.

You whimper, keeping your hands placed on the wall for support. Your legs trembled as his hips snapped against your ass, groaning as you felt him go deeper with every thrust. He was only halfway in but it felt like so much already. “Si..mon…” you pant out, letting out choked out moans as he fucks you roughly. Your eyes fluttered closed, he was fucking you senseless. “Shh, good girl. You’re doing good.”

He began bottoming out inside you, nestling his cock tightly in your warm heat. Your walls convulsed against his dick, tightening and untightening around him. He grunted out in pleasure, placing both hands on your waist. He traced circles on them, continuing to pound you. Your juices slicked his cock, making him slide in and out of you easier. He grinned at the mewls of pleasure you let out, those pathetic little noises. “So needy,” he purred, gathering a fistful of your hair before holding onto it as he continued pounding into you.

He looked down, his face focused on where he fucked you. He watched his cock disappear into your cunt with every thrust, which turned him on even more than he was, if that was possible. You let out desperate noises as you felt his cock pulsate inside of you. You let out soft whines, “I can’t.. I can’t…”

“You can take it, baby. You can.” Simon cooed, pressing his hand on your back. You whine as you feel your climax approaching, your juices already beginning to leak onto his cock. Simon was so close, he could feel his balls pulsate. With a couple of more thrusts into you, he finally released, and so did you.

His hot cum spilled into you, your juices and his cum mixing, making a sticky mess. You whined weakly, and Simon grunted loudly, his muscles tensing and flexing as he pulled you close to him, his chest pressing against your back. He kissed your neck, whispering sweet praises to you.

The two of you got dressed and checked the time, it was past twelve. Time to go back to base. The two of you walked back to base, and you saw everyone in Task Force 141 standing in front of the two of you. You froze in place and Simon raised an eyebrow. Price walked up to you two before taking both of your earpieces out of your ears, turning the microphone from on to off on them.

“Had a good time, I’m assuming?”

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you please write about being jey and jimmy adoptive little sister (so we can feel more included about not looking like them honestly) , reader is like 18/19 and being completely heartbroken about the fact that all reader wanted was for her family to be together and now both jimmy and jey want attentions from her but she won’t chose and this thing is breaking her, and like she’s friend with rhea or the judgment day so she comfort her (sorry for my english i’m from poland!)

Thank you so much if you take my request

the usos x sister!reader

‼️fighting, reader having a panic attack and breaking down

broken pieces

you always had a special bond with jey and jimmy. you were their little sister and they felt overprotective about you. they didn’t want anything or anyone to cause you harm.

but what if they were the ones hurting you?

they both saw it on your face almost a year ago, when you were watching front row jey against roman at summerslam.

the betrayal on your face when jimmy sides with roman, hurting jey and hurting you. they both looked at you and realised something in you just broke.

jey was hurt and confused like you were. jimmy felt tears in his eyes when he met your heartbroken look. you were his baby sister after all, the one he promised to protect with his own life.

and now you couldn’t even stand to be in his presence.

but no matter what you tried to do, they now hated each others and that made you even more furious and sad. those big men were your big brothers, your bodyguards, the people you loved the most and now all you had was a broken family.

almost a year later and things didn’t got any better, in fact, their constant beefing backstage was tiring anyone.

“i can’t believe this” jimmy kept screaming as he wanted to punch jey right in the face.

you didn’t even know where this argument started from but, like every single time you found yourself stuck in the middle of it.

“if only you weren’t so self centred…” jey screamed back at jimmy.

“me? me? are you fucking serious? me? self centred? aren’t you the one going around and wanting to be called main event?” jimmy laughed “so i am the self centred one uh?”

“you going crazy man!” jey spat back “are you planning to ruin every single moment of my career like you’re doing every week on live tv man?”

“stop it stop it stop it!” you screamed at them. you were witnessing this stupid fight and knowing you couldn’t do anything to get to stop was hurting you. so, as you predicted, they kept screaming at each others.

“i ain’t ruining no one’s moment man, it’s just you who can’t accept some people are way better that you anyway” jimmy responded back, making jey laugh.

“so you’re better that me? that’s funny man, so why, if you’re that better than me, why, aren’t you getting booked? uh? cat got your tongue man?” jey sarcastically laughed making jimmy angrier.

you couldn’t stay there any longer.

“fucking stop it!” you screamed once again, tears falling from your eyes “stop fighting like goddamn children! i-i can’t do this anymore, i really can’t” you looked at both at them “all you do is fighting and fighting and i can’t do this anymore…i just want my family back”

jey, sensing your anxiety, tried to take a few steps close to you but you stepped back, not wanting to be close to anyone.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” jimmy apologised, hating to see you cry and hating himself even more, knowing he’s the reason you are crying.

“i don’t care if you are sorry! you always say you guys are sorry and then fight again and again and again and i can’t deal with this shit anymore! i just want my brothers back…i-i…” you were having trouble breathing “i just want this to be over”

“y/n, love, why don’t you sit down a little?” jey suggested when he saw you were struggling to breathe. he knew your anxiety and he knew you struggled with panic attacks and he was hating himself for being the reason you were struggling right now.

“no! no i don’t wanna sit here and hear you fight again! i-i…i don’t wanna…” your head was dizzy and the look jimmy gave jey made them understand each other without sharing a word.

“sit here love…” jey slowly walked you towards the little black leather couch inside his changing room “breath with me y/n…” you did as jey told you to do and you felt all the energy leaving your body.

“you feeling better?” jimmy asked, sitting next to you while jey was knelt in front of your sat position.

“why do you have to keep fighting?” you asked them, your voice breaking a little, now your tears falling down your face again “and don’t say you’re sorry” you warned jimmy.

“we will try to stop okay?” jey smiled at you. deep down he knew he couldn’t keep fighting with his brother forever but at the same time it was hard for him to forgive him so quickly.

“i don’t want a “we will try” jey, i want my brothers back…i want to spend time with you together like we did last year…” you cried harder, your breathing getting worse again “you just don’t understand this…i-i hate seeing you fight every day, i hate seeing you punching yourselves, i fucking hate having to share days with you like you are my divorced parents!”

“hey hey keep breathing slowly sweetheart” jey reminded you.

jimmy and jey both had no idea how this family feud was affecting you. they just discovered it now and they were both hating themselves for hurting you that much.

“you just don’t understand…” you whispered.

“no words can’t express how sorry i am love…” jimmy softly whispered with teary eyes. seeing you having a panic attack was the worst thing he ever witnessed. you were his baby sister who he was meant to protect so why would he hurt you that much?

same thing was for jey.

“i just miss you…” your voice broke a little.

jey cursed himself “i know things between us aren’t the best but our feelings for you will never change. no matter what, you will always be our baby sister and we’ll love you forever…i will try my best to not fight with jimmy okay?” you simply nodded while his soft hand wiped your tears away.

“i promise you we will be better” jimmy went and you nodded again, being happy with their responses.

“now, i’m pretty sure you have work to do so i’ll go back to my hotel room…but, if you’re free tonight can we have a movie marathon like we always did when i was younger?” you asked them, hope sparkling in your eyes.

they couldn’t say not to that.

so they said yes.

they knew they had a lot of work to do, especially when it came to them but, no matter the circumstances, they would always have your back.

[garfunklefield]

can I request Toji with a female s/o who is insecure of her small boobs because I'm always very insecure of mine.

Thank you!

Pretty Thing!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Toji Fushiguro Warnings: Humor and some angst, self love, mature language, Toji is emotionally constipated, comfort, sensual kissing, nipple play Word count: 1374 DESC: Toji tries, fails, then tries again to make you feel confident!

As someone from the big titty committee, I think small boobs are beautiful!!! (And so does Toji!)

Toji never understood that when you complained, you were serious. You had breasts on the smaller side and it always made you stare just a bit longer in the mirror, especially when you wore something low-cut. Why couldn’t you get that cleavage all those pretty Instagram models had? Why was it they had to be blessed and you got the scraps? It didn’t initially make you insecure, but recently you found yourself wearing more conservative things to hide your boobs further. 

Your boyfriend never realized how deep your insecurity went, kind of brushing it off honestly. He assumed it was one of those things you both knew wasn’t true because he’s an idiot, so he never felt the need to tell you how he really felt. At first, you were confident he liked your breasts for their size and how easily they fit in the palm of his hand. But then… without any reassurance? You started to lose all your confidence and wonder if he liked them. 

He did notice you were upset today. But being the kind of stupid guy he was, he just assumed it wasn’t anything to bring up. He was bad at … discussing feelings. So Toji decided to avoid feelings altogether unless you brought it up. That was his fatal flaw, never bringing up issues and waiting for you too. It was tiring, and you weren’t having it today. 

“Hey,” he nudged your arm with his own. The two of you were seated on your couch. You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone, in a baggier shirt that hid your body. You looked over at him and he motioned to his phone, “I’m ordering. What do you want?” 

“I’m not hungry,” a frown pulled at your lips and your thumb went back to scrolling, “Just get whatever you want.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “You’re always hungry.” 

“Not right now, Toji,” your voice raised slightly. 

“Fine fine,” he backed off, going back to the UberEats app, “What’s up your ass today?” 

Typical Toji, uncaring and loud. He always thought you could handle his abrasive nature, how cold he could be. He didn’t know sometimes you wanted a caring hand. Why would you tell him? What if he just laughed? He didn’t know all you wanted was some reassurance you were beautiful, even with smaller breasts. You wanted to smack yourself upside the head. Why did it all come back to that insecurity? Well, it was big. It affected how you dressed and affected how you loved yourself. 

“Nothing, Toji,” you snapped back at him, not looking up from your phone. 

“Am I not allowed to ask my girlfriend what’s wrong?” His voice shook your ears, making your head snap up to him. 

“Not when you ask it like that!” Your voice broke, shattering down your walls, “God!” You set your phone down on your lap and met his expression. It was hollow as you started to break. Why was it that the smallest of things were bothering you today? You couldn’t help but explode and cave in, expressing it. 

“I’m.. my.. I’m not..” You tried at least.

The man found himself rolling his eyes, “You're pretty.” That’s where he thought it would go at least, you just aching for some kind of reassurance he’d begrudgingly give.

“My boobs aren’t big!” You then blurted, regretting the moment it escaped your lips. It was a strange thing to say, and you knew it from his expression.

“Your … what.” Your boyfriend blinked a few times. He hadn’t expected you to say something to that nature, and he hadn’t expected that to be something that bothered you so much. He liked breasts, sure, but he didn’t hate yours. He liked how he could hold each one perfectly in his hand, with enough room to squeeze it fully. How they perfectly fit into his mouth. But whether or not he liked it, Toji realized, shouldn’t make you instantly love yourself. You should love yourself because you want to. It hurt his heart to see there was a part of your perfect body you didn’t love. Maybe, there was a way he could show you that you should love yourself, regardless of what anyone thought. 

Toji sat there, staring at you for a few moments, making you feel more self-conscious. In your head, you had just outed yourself as a weirdo who overthought. He let out a breath and shook his head, “I like your body just the way it is. If you changed it, it wouldn’t be you.” His eyes scanned back to your upset pout, “Small breasts don’t … eh, define you.” 

You pressed your lips together, “But I don’t look like any of the girls you follow or any of my friends. They’re all pretty like that, I look like a prepubescent boy!” 

Your words made him laugh, but after a glare, he quieted down, “I’ll unfollow ‘em if it makes you think less of yourself,” he looked away in search of more words to soothe your insecurity, “You’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t I like your boobs?”

Your eyes rolled and a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, “I know you like them. But I don’t know how to like them.” You brought your knees up and pressed them against your chest, hugging them close. Toji frowned and scooted closer to you, wrapping a burly arm over your shoulders.

It was silent for a moment until he broke it, “I hate my face.” 

“...What?” You looked over at him, “Why? You have such a nice face…”

He shrugs, “Never liked it. And no matter what people said to me growing up, I still didn’t like it,” he used his free hand to motion to all his imperfections, that you just couldn’t see, “But, I thought, if people can like my mug, why can’t I? So… I’ve learned to like some of it. I don’t like all of it,” his lips pulled into a deeper frown, “But I’m okay enough that I don’t hate myself.” 

Then Toji looked at you, “I think knowing that people love your breasts should motivate you to wanna, I dunno, like them? You don’t need to love them every day,” his hand on your shoulder started creeping into your shirt in a way that made you giggle, “But you shouldn’t hate yourself over something natural.” 

“You’re being so poetic for having your hand down my shirt,” you murmured, a small smile appearing, “But…” You exhaled, “I feel like you’re right.”

“It’s like, learning to be okay every day and loving yourself some days, eh?” Zenin tilted his head back, before turning it to you, “Can I show you how much I like ‘em?” You paused for a moment, giving him the silent okay in his head to pounce. You let out a loud laugh as he pushed you back against the couch, lifting your shirt. 

“Pretty things,” he cooed into your skin, taking the time to delicately run his fingers down the middle of your chest, “I could use you as a pillow, mama.”

“Oh shut up,” you lightly whacked him in the head with one of your hands. Your laughter got quiet when his fingers pinched around one of your nipples, rolling it around a few times just to teasingly stimulate. “Toji.. you don’t have to do this. I know you like them.”

Toji looked up at you and shot you an annoyed look, “I wanna.” That was all he said as he took your other supple breast into his mouth. You felt your body tense, your back rise, and your underwear become increasingly wetter. “I love these things,” he pulled back from sucking for a moment, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on your lips. It was supposed to be a sweet peck, before going back to the meat of the exchange, but your hands anchored around the nape of his neck and kept Mr. Zenin in place. Lips locked intimately, showing yourself to him. 

You knew he was right in some way or another. You didn’t need that fake self-love stuff those big-breasted models tried to sell you. You could love yourself sometimes, but learn to be okay with what you’ve got. 

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 

But then he holds the food away from you. 

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 

He is rather pleased, though. 

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 

The orange pops into your mouth. 

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 

Something inside of you snaps. 

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 

He actually cries out in pain. 

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 

Not so pristine. 

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 

You whimper. 

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 

You ache. 

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 

The fever only worsens. 

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 

*** 

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask. 

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.” 

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 

You curse this time. 

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 

You bite off a groan. 

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 

“Suguru—” 

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 

You desire. 

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 

Your tears make him smile. 

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 

And then, “look at me.” 

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 

Without thinking, you obey him. 

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 

You cry out, clinging to him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 

You sob. 

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you. 

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 

Ice cold water pours on you. 

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.” 

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 

It’s like finally coming home. 

[jeannineee]

coming up lavender, part two

cassian x reader x azriel

part one

author’s note: thank you guys for the love on part one <3 i’m very excited about this series!! comment or message me to be added to the taglist!!

summary: the high lord of the night court and his inner circle have taken reader from her home—the only one she’s ever known. what awaits her now? what interest could they have in her?

warnings: angst!! emetophobia warning at the beginning--it's brief!! ptsd, reader recounts her traumatic childhood. misogyny, and other canon-typical themes. this is an 18+ series.

Hands collide roughly with wooden flooring; grit your teeth as you rise to your feet. A poorly-stifled chuckle has you whirling around, glaring at the assailant: Cassian.

"Welcome to the House of Wind."

The Illyrian grins, despite the ire in your expression. "You'll get more used to it over time--winnowing, that is."

You hunch over, finally hurling the contents of your stomach. At least it didn't happen in the great hall.

"Eventually, that won't happen, either," Rhysand adds from beside Cassian as he plucks seemingly invisible dirt from his tailored suit. Where the rest of his inner circle had gone, you couldn't be sure.

You dry heave a few times before standing straight once again, and ball your hands into fists at your sides to mask their shaking. "What do you want?"

Rhysand waves his hand, disentegrating the mess you left on the floor, then studies you for a moment, face unreadable. "For now?Nothing. Nuala and Cerridwen will show you to your room. We'll start training in the next few days. Once you're settled in."

Instinctually tense as a hand grabs your arm from behind you. "Don't touch me," you hiss, only to immediately relent and flush with embarassment as you meet the eyes of the two females Rhysand mentioned. "I'm sorry."

"Nonsense. We should've said something before touching you," the taller of the two murmurs, an all-too-familiar pity lacing her words. "I'm Nuala," she points to the shorter female beside her, "My sister, Cerridwen."

You give the sisters a tight-lipped smile, and follow them out of the main room. And try to ignore the way shame weighs on your chest as you feel the males' eyes boring into your back--surely noting your reaction.

~~~

To your relief, no one bothered you the first two days, besides Nuala and Cerridwen to ensure you were eating and drinking.

Until now, with Morrigan at your door. You recognized her from court, though the two of you were much younger. Before your power grew, and you were shut out from the world.

"Are you adjusting well?"

Take a step back as she enters your room, cross your arms over your chest as a defense. "Hard to adjust when I have no idea where I am, or what I'm here for. I barely know who any of you are. Who you are, even."

"You can call me Mor, for starters," she says, trying for a smile. "I'd rather let Rhys explain exactly why you're here. But know that you're safe. You're free."

Your brows furrow, words caught in your throat as you consider the weight of Mor's words. Free. Free. Free.

Slowly, Mor takes your hands in hers. Squeezes gently. Understanding in her eyes. She's been here before.

"Would you like to see the library?"

Eyes light up. You nod; blink back tears. "Yes, I would."

~~~

After mere minutes in the library, you decided you would be content to spend the rest of your life there. You likely could spend the rest of your life there, with countless books still left unread.

Mor gets distracted by a couple of the priestesses, leaving you to your own devices. Fingers trace the dusty spines of books far older than you, far older than the space they reside in.

Heavy footsteps sound behind you, and you turn, to once again be met with Cassian. Hair tied back in a knot, sky-blue shirt with a few buttons undone, showing off a chiseled chest--

You silently curse yourself, thanking the Mother he can't read thoughts. Can he?

Clear your throat, arms once again wrapping around yourself. Wrack your brain for something casual to say.

"There are a lot of books here."

State the painfully obvious. Way to go, genius.

A smile from Cassian that sends your heart aflutter. "Not used to seeing so many books, I take it?"

Hold his gaze, fingertips digging into your arms out of habit. "We--my father had a library in our estate, but it's much smaller. I wasn't permitted to enter very often."

Cassian stares. "Oh..."

Realization dawns on you, and you bark a laugh. "I can read. It was one of the few things I could do, back...home." You falter on the last word, tasting bitterness on your tongue. "It's simply discouraged for women in the Hewn City. Deemed 'uneccessary.'"

He shakes his head, and somehow, you can feel his disgust, his rage.

Shrug off the feeling, try to muster a smile. "Well, if the House of Wind is this beautiful, I can only imagine what the city is like."

Cassian smiles. "Velaris is beautiful. I'd love to show you around, eventually. There's this restaurant by the Sidra that--"

"Eventually...?"

He nods. "We have to make sure your powers aren't volatile--"

"Volatile? I've spent decades shielding my power from other people. What makes you think--"

"We don't know what to think, y/n. We don't know you. We haven't seen your powers, beyond what little you showed the day we rescued--"

A bitter laugh. "Rescued. Does wording it that way make you feel better?"

Cassian's expression hardens. "What else would you call it?"

Bite your tongue, ignore the way your power stirs underneath your skin. "Am I free to leave the House?"

Cassian sighs, face quickly changing to one of pity. "You have to-"

"Stop looking at me like that. Am I free to leave the House? To explore the city?"

A long breath. "No. But you can explore the entire House. I can fly you around--"

Arms tighten around yourself as you scoff. "Then I suppose I've simply traded one prison for another."

Turn on your heel, ignore the way your chest oddly aches with each step you take. "I'm going back to my room."

Mor appears from behind one of the shelves as your start climbing the stairs. "Do you need help getting back?"

"I can find it myself. Unless I need an escort, too?"

The pair look away; picture of shame.

You don't spare another glance to either of them as you leave.

~~~

The corridor to your room feels tighter than usual, windows smaller. Loose another shaky breath to leash the panic threatening to spill over.

At least you weren't in your father's grasp. That had to be something. But what did you trade it for?

Racing thoughts cease as you spot shadows swirling at the end of the hall. They recoil suddenly as you gaze at them--as if shocked they were caught.

"If you have something to say, Shadowsinger, best to ask me to my face."

Nails bury in your palms as you wait for a response, heart thumping behind your ribcage.

Shadows dissipate as a figure walks through. Not quite as tall as Cassian, but he still towers over you. Visibly marred hands tucked into his pockets, wearing a gray sweater that looked so comfortable you considered stealing it from him.

"You're observant," Azriel says, lips turned up ever-so-slightly.

Roll your eyes, fight off a smile. "For someone of your position--the renowned Azriel Shadowsinger, one would think your shadows would be better hidden."

Smile widens, revealing pretty white teeth. "They were hidden. I've never seen anyone notice them so easily." As he speaks, confusion paints his face for only a second before disappearing. "Are you okay?"

His eyes dart to where your hands still remain in fists. He can likely hear your heartbeat, smell your panic.

Stiffen, rub your hands along your sides. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

He seems inclined to question further, but thinks better of it. "Alright."

Pick at your nails, glance down the hall. "I hate to be rude, but I was trying to go--"

"To your room."

"--to my room."

You laugh as the two of you speak in unison. "Yes. My room." You offer another smile, begin to walk past.

"What's your name?" Azriel questioned.

You turn, arch a brow. "There's no way you don't know my name. Rhys, or someone had to tell you."

A shrug. "I forgot. Remind me."

Liar. You smile.

"Y/n."

"Y/n," Azriel repeats. You try to bury the way your cheeks warm, hearing your name on his tongue. "Have a good evening, y/n."

You nod, and hurry off to your room. It isn't until your door is shut that you realize your smile hasn't left your face.

taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @marina468 @cherry-cin @sevikas-whore @tequilya @nickishadow139 @thatacotargirl

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

(Gif is not mine, I found it on google.)

Word Count - 2593.

Warnings - Negan X FM Reader.  P in V, alcohol mention, smut, swearing, vaginal licking, blow jobs.  No beta reader, any mistakes are mine own. 

Negan and you have been working together for a few years but what happens when one Friday night out changes all that.?

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

You and Negan had been work mates for years, you started about 12 months after he did and bonded one night when you were invited to join the men and their wives for Friday night drinks and was able to outdrink the great Negan, earning your place in the friendship they had already established.

Another friday night has come around again and you went home and got ready for the weekly catch up, even though you worked with the men, it was the women you missed and loved catching up with. The moment you got there, you were basically dragged away from the group by them, having them a little tipsy already.

As the night progressed and the drinks kept coming, Dwight's wife, Sherry leaned over and whispered in your ear "Negan keeps staring at you" You almost spit your drink out at her, you look at her "What?" "Negan, he has been staring at you all night, since you arrived his eyes have barely looked elsewhere." "Bullshit" You turn a little, trying to remain casual, hoping that to him it looks like you're just repositioning yourself on your seat and you look at him, your eyes connecting. He gives you a smirk, you smile back. 

"Holy shit I think I just saw sparks" Sherry says joking. You slap her arm gently and break eye contact. "He probably just watching over here in general making sure that we are not being hounded by unwanted men." "No honey, I think he is making sure no one hits on you." Sherry sips her drink and poke a finger into your chest. "Right ok, I think you should stop drinking; all that alcohol is going to your brain."  Sherry laughs " Have your really been so oblivious? He likes you Y/N. Every time we drink, he always keeps his eye on you, he gets angry when men talk to you, one night he came to ours to sleep it off, Dwight says that he was saying your name in his sleep when he went downstairs during the night."

"Well then, if that is the case, let's test this theory" You smile at her, and she raises an eyebrow. You place your drink and walk over to Negan.  "Hey" you say to him and sit down beside him. "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He says as he watches the men nod at each other and leave to go to dance with their wives, leaving you and him alone. You shrug "Could be better,I am actually thinking of picking up a guy tonight" You decide to watch Negan closely, waiting for a reaction. "Oh is that so, would be a first for you, anyone catch you eye?" Negan gruffs and he takes a sip of his gin. You take note that he didn't react as you thought so you decided to keep testing him, you look around and spot your "target", you nod over to the bar "He looks interesting and fun, he might be a good time if you get my drift."  Negan follows your nod and spots the man, he was young, short black hair, wearing jeans and a jacket, casually leaning on the bar talking to what he assume is his friend. "You really think he is your type?" Negan looks at you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You think you know my type?" You say looking at him. Negan leans back, turning his body towards yours, his arm on top of the chair.  "I actually think I do what type of man you like" You raise your eyebrow to him "Ok tell me all about MY type, I would love to hear it" you say.

Negan chuckles "You type is the bad boy type, the type that you wouldn't take home to your parents. You want the type of man who will listen to you, take care of you when you're down. Someone who will take time to spoil you both inside the bedroom and out, even dare say a dominant male, especially in the bedroom, you seem like the submissive type of woman" You can feel your cheeks heating up and you only hope that Negan won't notice your blushing.

"You just know that most women like bad boys, so that was a lucky guess." You smile as he leans closer to you. "And yet you didn't deny the other things I "assumed" about you." He shifts his hips closer to you. "You don't think I notice the way you look at me when we hang out and I'm fixing my bike, while you sit there and keep my company, I can feel your eyes on me." "Isn't that what I meant to do, look at you while we are talking? Thought it was what society calls polite" You say, a bit of smart ass coming out in your voice. "Yes but there have been times when your eyes have not been looking at my face" He looks down at himself and slowly back up. "I've caught you oogling me when I slide under my bike, when my t-shirt rides up enough to show skin" "And what about you Negan? Sherry said that you been watching me all night, and you do it every other time?" Negan laughs "Well then at least Sherry noticed." Negan's hand reaches out and gently caresses your cheek. You gulp, feeling like butterflies are fluttering inside you.  "So she was right then?" "Right about what Y/N?" Negan moves closer, you look down at his lips, his tongue peeks out to wet his dry lips and it leaves you wanting him more. "That you get angry when men try and talk to me"  "She is not wrong. You have no idea how much I have wanted to spank your barely covered ass and tell you to go change. I don't like when other men try and take what's mine" You stare into his haze eyes "Yours? I'm not yours Negan"  His hand slithers its way into your hair, grabbing it tightly, jerking your head back a bit. "Yes, you are, you just don't know it yet."

Seconds pass and he growls, pulling your hair again, his lips crashing into yours, your arms instinctly wrapping around his neck, pulling him into you closer. Negan's other hand makes it way to your hip, without breaking the kiss his pulls you onto his lap. He releases your hair, but keeps his hand there, massaging the spot he had balled into a fist.

He growls as you shimmy down a bit, hitting his growing hard on. "Careful doll"  You forgot that you were at a bar with your work mates who would be back any moment. You start to slide off Negan's lap when his hands stop you from. "Where do you think you're going?" His lips nibble at your neck, making you wiggle on his lap at the sensation. "Our friends will be back soon" You try to explain. "So what, you embarrassed to be seen on my lap?" He asks, his hips gripping your waist. "No no" You shake your head "Would rather be on your lap in private" You move closer to Negan's lips. "Oh, is that so, would private also mean, no clothing?" He smirks. "Maybe if you play your cards right." You wink at him. He gently smacks your ass.  "Well then I am more than happy to get this show on the road Y/N" He goes to stand up carrying you. "You can't be serious, put me down" You smile.

"No way in hell took us too long to get to this point, I ain't letting you go now." He leans down to grab your wallet and phone and passes it to you. Your legs gripped tightly around his waist. The owner of the bar laughs as you walk out, your friends smile and give you a thumbs up, knowing full well that come Monday you're going to be the talk of the workplace.  He gets to his car and opens the door; you slide down and hop in the passenger side of the car. Negan closes the door like a gentleman. He hops in the driver's side, puts the keys in the ignition and the car roars to life. The drive is silent, neither one wanting to break the spell that had come over you both in the bar.  You could feel yourself wet, you rub your thighs together, you gasp as you feel a large hand grab your leg, stopping you. "Don't do that doll." Negan warns, his nails digging into your flesh. His eyes focused on the road, his hand slides up your leg, under your skirt, gently touching your clothed pussy lips. You moan just at the small sensation. His finger going up and down your lips, just teasing you enough to make you crave his touch deeper.

"Please" you whisper lifting your hips a bit. Negan chuckles " Needy little thing aren't you doll?" His hand pulls away and his hand goes back to the steering wheel, as he turns the corner to his house. 

Negan gets out of the car first, rounding the back and opening the door for you, allowing you to get out of the car and he closes the door leading the way to the front door, you had been to Negan's house many times, but never like this before, it was different. He unlocks the door and lets you walk in first, you hear the door close behind you, you turn to his hand grabbing your shoulder and moves your back to the door, his lips on yours, kissing you deeply, you're thinking your lips might be bruised in the morning with the amount of pressure he is using but you don't care, his tongue pry's your lips opens and your tongues dances with his.

Negan moves from your lips to your cheek, then down to your neck as his fingers carefully undo the buttons on your top. Once it falls open, his hands are on your breasts, getting a gasp out of you as he pinches your hard nipples. His lips move down and take one hard nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, making you moan and arch your back begging for more.

Negan moves from one breast to the another, doing the same thing, your hand slides into his hair, gripping it harder, pulling him closer to your chest. You hear him moan and then feel the sensation of teeth nibbling your skin.

Negan pulls away just a little, his face moving closer to yours. "I might have been wrong about the submissive part of you doll."  You chuckle a little "Maybe, but maybe it is cause we not in the bedroom."  Negan smiles and takes your hand, leading you up to his room. Once inside he pushes you down on the bed, and crawls on top of you, covering you with his body.

"You look perfect on my bed, even if you are to overly dressed." He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, throwing in beside the bed, he sits back and undoes his shirt and throws it with yours, you reach for his jeans, unbuckling the belt in a haste. His hands work on pulling your skirt down along with your underwear, again tossing it to the side of the bed. You push his jeans down to his knees then he takes over, getting off the bed to discard them leaving you laying there on your elbows looking at him, marveling at his amazing body, the chiseled chest, his tattoos and slowly looking down to his happy trail that leads to his very hard cock, that makes you lick your lips and crawl over to the edge of the bed.  Your hand reaches out and grasps him, making him growl deeply. His hips thrust a little making himself move in and out of your hand. You open your lips and engulf the tip of his cock, his hand finds itself tangled in your hair, as he thrusts himself more, your tongue swirling around his member. You hum as he pushes himself further into your mouth.  "Doll" He growls, a warning. You look up at him, the tip of his cock just sitting between your lips.  "Hmm" you hum. "As much as I am loving this lovely mouth wrapped around my cock I really wanna be inside you, fucking your tight pussy." 

Negan pulls himself out of your lips, pushes you to the middle of the bed, your still on your stomach, the bed dips and he crawls over you, lifting your hips and ass up, you feel his fingers touch your pussy lips, "Fuck I have been waiting to see you in this position, wet and waiting for me." His finger just pushes past your lips, spreading you, then you suddenly feel his tongue, lapping at your juices, you moan when he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit. "Fuck" You breathe out, he pulls you closer to his, his face right in between your pussy, licking, sucking, the noises that fill the air should embarrass you, not turn you on more. Negan eats you out until the first orgasm washes over you, your legs shake in pleasure. Negan licks up your juices before moving over you, his legs positioned between yours, you feel his cock laying on your ass as he leans over you, kissing your cheek. "Fuck doll you ready to cum all over my cock now, such a good girl you" You turn your head, and he kisses you, you taste yourself on his face. Negan grips his dick lining it up to your wet pussy. In one quick thrust his pushes his way into you, his balls slap against your skin and you moan in delight.  "Doll, you have no idea how long I have dreamt of this moment, filling your tight cunt with my cock" He whispers in your ear, before pulling out and pushing back in fast, harder each time, getting a moan from both of you.  Negan can't stop himself from pounding into you, his cock burying itself inside the tight warm walls over your pussy, the noises that you make each time he hit the spot is like music to his ears. Negan leans over your back, pushing your face deeper into the mattress, his arms on each side of your body, he drives himself deeper into you, he is close to cumming, "Negan please...." you moan out. "I'm gonna cum doll, where do you want it, inside you? on your back?" He grunts out "or do you wanna shallow?" You can barely answer, you so cock drunk of him "Inside, please Negan" you beg him.  It doesn't take too long before Negan is pumping his seed inside you, grunting at his own release. You feel your own orgasm building and when you feel his hot cum inside you, you can't help but moan as you cum around his cock, milking him. Negan grunts as your cunt throbs around his slowly softening cock.  Negan get off of you and rolls you into his body, you both lay there panting, coming down from the high that has been building for a couple years.  "You do know now there is definitely not letting you go now." Negan says as his arm tightens around your stomach. "That is ok with me Negan." Negan chuckles and kisses your neck, thankful that finally after years of watching you from afar you were finally his.

[ffjj5]

I'm not broken, just bent 😔

So I don't know if the joy of being a peri menopausal woman is the reason I feel as I do, or if it's frustration from having a difficult boss who often forgets we are all human and also have a life outside of work. Maybe it stems from that lifelong feeling I have had of never being good enough ( which is a whole other story involving step parents, step siblings and a dad who prioritized his new family over his own child.) If it's me still adjusting to living with a chronic condition that causes me regular pain and limits my ability to do the things I used to do without a second thought. Or if it's just that the world is going to hell in a hand basket, but right now I just feel like I want to scoop up all my favourite people ( and my cats of course) and just disappear somewhere where we can all just be us, have fun, cry, laugh, sleep, get drunk and declare how much we love each other, play boardgames, eat good food and just forget it all.

This is the shit I want...

I also want peace, the chance to shut out all the noise, to just sit and be.

Jungkook zoning out when he gets overwhelmed is something I can relate to a lot more over the last 18 months. There are many times I have just shut myself at home on my days off because I neither have the desire or drive to go out.

It's too peopley out there.

On a daily basis in my job I deal with the best and worst of the general public and I can't lie, it has made me like people less 😬

All this being said I am not a miserable old women who sees no joy in the world. I have the best friends both near and far, and I have the best daughter who is my best friend and an eternal source of joy and love. I do things that make me happy and I spend time with those most precious to me and we have the best times.

There is just something not sitting right at the moment and I just wanted to put it down in writing as this in itself is very cathartic.

As always there is a BTS song that makes me feel seen and understood 😭😭.

God I love these men 💜

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

"Hipsophobia"

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gn!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 4.9k

Content Warning: Fear of heights, mild panic-attack, smut, oral (male receiving)

A/N: Writing smut as an Asexual is hard, sorry if it's not very good.

Summary: Lesley has been begging to take you on a hot-air balloon ride for a little more than 3 years. As much as you hated saying no to him, your fear of heights always stopped you from taking him up on his offer. But luckily for Lesley, you can’t resist when he pouts like that.

=======

You thought Lesley was awfully cute, even from 30 feet away. Lost in his own little world, surrounded by the big open space, bracketed in by large oak trees. You stood, arms crossed, the tall grass tickling your ankles as you watched him set up his prized hot air balloon.

Even from this far away, you could tell that he was humming to himself as he twisted a canister into place. He had been all smiles all day, gushing over how excited he was to test out his new balloon. He holds the opening of the balloon open, igniting the burner and pulling it up as the hot air floods in.

He knew what he was doing, that much was obvious, he had been taking balloons up for longer than you’d known him. Still, watching that huge flame so close to his pretty face twisted your stomach. Plus, he had almost dropped the canister on his foot earlier. 

Luckily he was wearing his construction boots rather than his birkenstocks. As much as you thought Lesley was perfect, you had a few qualms with his fashion sense. 

Unluckily, he was wearing these thick, chunky, brown gloves, covering up his perfect, model-esque hands.

You finally approach, keeping quiet as you do so, hands sliding onto his shoulders, up his neck and over his eyes. He completely freezes, hunching in on himself. Lifting onto your toes to whisper in his ear, you let the tension settle before speaking.

“Hey there, sunshine, what’re you up to?” You greet, whispering softly as you try not to laugh. 

Lesley relaxes, letting out a groan, “Do you have to do that? You scared the shit out of me” He lets a soft laugh follow, turning to face you. You giggle, the way he curses always sounds so awkward. It was cute. Your hands gently slide down to his shoulders as he spins around, settling just below his collarbones. 

“Yes I do have to do that, it’s my job, though I am grossly underpaid.” A smile gathers at the corners of your mouth, reaching your eyes as you gaze up into Lesley’s calm face. 

“Oh, are you?” He chuckles, his face glowing in the soft evening light. Underneath your palms, you could feel the steady thrum of his heart.

“Definitely, oh- and undervalued. I don’t think you appreciate me Mr. Smith- Juniment.” Lifting a hand, you poked into his shoulder accusingly. His toothy grin widens at your teasing, his head tilting slightly to the side and he lets out a long exhale. 

“Do you want to go up with me?” He asks, eyes shining brightly in the light of the sun, his skin glistening around the perimeter of his face. He slips off his gloves, tossing them at the basket behind him. They hit the ground with a soft thud.

Your face scrunches, “In that death machine? No thanks, I’ll pass.” though you can’t stay like that for long as Lesley’s smile falters.

“It’s not a death machine, actually, I’m sure you’d like it if you gave it a shot.” He pouts a little, his face slightly flushed in the early summer heat. You frown, your resolve bending a little as the corners of his eyes soften.

“Les, you know I’m scared of heights.” Your voice is a lot gentler this time around. The fabric of his plaid button up is surprisingly soft under your touch.

He frowns, pressing his lips together slightly in thought. “I’ll be with you”

“Well, then I would be worried about your impending doom on top of mine.” You wiggle your fingers, tapping them against his clavicle with the soft pursing of your lips.

Lesley watches you as you think, your eyes cast down to his boots. His gaze is soft, a small frown playing at his lips. He had been begging you to go on the balloon with him since you started working as his client relations coordinator three years ago. Your fear of heights always pushed you from taking him up in his invitation, though you didn’t have any issue listening to him gush about the rides after the fact. 

You wanted to go, you really did. But being suspended hundreds of feet in the air in nothing more than a wicker basket?

No fucking way. 

“Listen, Lesley, I would love to go but-”

“You’re coming.” He interrupts, lifting his hands and placing them on top of yours, stilling your nervous tapping.

“I’m sorry?” Tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows, you watch as he flounders a bit, looking around at the scenery before settling his gaze back onto you.

“I- well- well, I think you need to get over it.” Your eyebrows raise at that, eyes widening at his bluntness, “Not that- not that I think that your fear isn’t valid or anything! God no- no, I just think that you might be a little too stuck in your head about this?”

Even when you should be offended he finds himself firmly planted in your good graces. You couldn’t help but soften a little more, your resolve cracking at his caring nature. You had noticed in the past few months that Lesley had been a lot better at advocating for himself. 

And apparently he was pretty good at advocating for you, too.

“I guess so, but I feel like this might be a little overboard for getting over my fear.” You glance over at the death-coated balloon standing tall behind the flushed man in front of you.

“But if you do this, everything else will seem so much smaller.” Lesley’s voice sounded like a chorus of bells, his logic was wishy-washy, but he was just so Lesley. 

So perfect. 

“I’m very glad that you’re not my therapist,” You chuckle, trying to ignore the way his thumbs brush against the sides of your hands. He laughs, eyes closing and all, and you break. Your posture slackening as you melt under the rays of his smile. He looked like the break of sunlight through the clouds of a thunderstorm.

Pouting a bit, you sigh, your head drooping to look at his boots again. He stays silent, letting you mull it over as you count the scuffs on the edge of the tan suede. Your core temperature rises as his body heat flows into you, your hands trapped between his chest and his all-too warm hands.

“Okay, okay, we can go,” 

His face lights up, somehow shining even brighter as the sun starts to cascade towards the horizon in the west. 

“However,” You ball up the front of his shirt in your hands, “If anything goes wrong, you bring us back down immediately.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He nods vigorously, his hair falling into his face sloppily. He pulls away from you, his hands lingering on your wrists before he turns, grabbing his gloves off the ground. 

Lesley slips the thick gloves on, covering up his slender fingers. You almost whimper, frowning deeply at the sight.

He turns on the burner, the flame large and in charge, he waves you over. He had explained how the balloons worked to you before, but this time, he helped you into the wicker basket, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. 

He hops in with you, hauling the sandbags into the basket before turning to you. “Are you ready?”

You press yourself against the wall of the basket, clearing your throat and shaking your head both yes and no at the same time. Lesley laughs, and it soothes you for just long enough that he can crank the burner without much fuss from you. The hot air floats into the balloon and lifts it off of the ground steadily. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, Lesley, no- No, Lesley, I can’t!” You yelp, sliding down the wall of the basket, looking up at him with wide eyes. You press your hands into the basket, clawing at the material. He crouches in front of you in the enclosed space, putting his hands on your arms, gently guiding you to stand. 

His arm slides around your waist, holding you secure against him as your knees wobble. His gloved hand flattening around the curve of your ribs. 

“You’re okay, we’re fine.” He whispers, leaning forward and pressing his cheek against yours to whisper into your ear. His touch is muffled by the thick gloves, but his hand slides against your back in an attempt to sooth you. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” You grumble, your arms tossed around his shoulders. It took everything in your power to not strangle him in your grip. 

As the ground got further away, your face started to tingle, a wash of numbness falling over you. Behind the cage of your ribs, your heart hammers in your chest, heavy breaths falling from your lips as you watch the terrain drift away. 

“Lesley…” Your voice wobbles, the full weight of your body leaning into him. He responds in kind, adjusting himself to try and hold you up. Your hands claw at his back through his shirt, your panting breaths hitting his neck as your head swims. 

You were going to die. The balloon was going to pop and you were going to fall and you were going to die.

And Lesley.

No, no, no, no. Lesley can’t die, he’s perfect, he needs to live a full life and find someone that treats him right, and have a gajillion kids because there is no possible future that he would not be the world's best father. 

You tighten your grip around him, your thoughts going a mile a minute. They were mostly about Lesley: how to keep him safe in the impending crash, his future kids, the perfect world where you both survive and you have his kids, and the balloon being set on fire. 

The balloon is on fire and you’re dying.

The balloon is on fire and Lesley is dying.

Tears well up in your eyes and you choke out a sob. Lesley’s arm tightens around you, his other hand letting go of the trigger on the burner. He uses his teeth to pull off the fabric glove, securing his arm around you before doing the same with his other hand.

“Hey, hey, listen to me, we’re fine, everything is fine.” Lesley whispers, cupping the back of your head and manually turning you to look away from the ground. Holding you in place, Lesley looks you in the eyes, repeating his reassurance.

“Lesley, I’m scared, this is fucking terrifying.” You rush, your voice and octave shy of a shriek. He smiles in response, cupping your cheek with his warm hand, unobstructed by those gloves you were learning to hate.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not leaving, you're fine, we’re perfectly safe.” His soft voice only served to keep the tears flowing. He uses his thumbs to brush them away just for them to be replaced moments later. His sweetness was pushing you over the edge. 

“If you’re lying and you die, I’m going to kill you” You sob, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Lesley chuckles at your threat, leaning his cheek on your head as he attempts to take one of your arms off of him. It takes a second before he can successfully pry your iron grip off of his shirt. 

Slipping his fingers around your wrist, Lesley guides your hand to rest on his chest, your palm flattening just over his heart. The steady rhythm is soft, only slightly elevated in comparison to your racing heart. 

“Feel that? We aren’t in danger, I’m not scared.” Lesley says, his voice slightly muffled by your hair, “I’ll let you know if you need to be scared,” 

He holds you flush against him, his hand flattened around your waist. He takes slow deep breaths, coaxing you through breathing exercises. Eventually he slides your hand up to his neck, pressing your fingers against his artery instead. You could feel the thrum of his heart with more clarity now, the vein pushing against your fingers with every steady pump of his heart.

Your body slowly relaxed into his, he was incredibly warm, and his steady, rock solid confidence in your safety gave you the comfort you needed to really try and reign yourself in. 

Your heart syncs up with Lesley’s, the rhythm steady and strong. A long silence follows as you focus on the thrumming of his heart against your fingers. Lifting your head, you take in the scenery, there’s a soft tension in your jaw as you peer over the edge of the basket. The ground was far below, the trees just clusters of vibrant green. You could see Austin not too far off, tall buildings breaking up the flat ground below.

His pulse against your fingers keeps you grounded. A soft breeze brushes over your tear stained cheeks, chilling your skin. Clouds blanket the sky, drifting calmly as the sun begins to kiss the horizon.

“I told you you’d like it.” He grins, his eyes locked on your face rather than the picturesque vision around him. 

“Oh shut up…” You grumble, watching a small cluster of birds circle around each other in the distance. Lesley’s smile softens as he takes in your face, flushed from your crying, blanketed in the warm glow of the setting sun. 

Your fingers adjust against his pulse, the touch gentle as you slide them a little further up, resting just beneath the underside of his jaw. He inhales sharply at the feeling.

“Y’know… I could never find the heartbeat in my wrist.” Lesley breaks the silence, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His smile is as bright and toothy as ever.

“Seriously?” You turn to look at him again, your eyebrows furrowing a bit, though the tension melts out of your jaw. 

He nods, letting go of you slowly and showing you his wrists. He attempts to find the vein, fumbling around with his fingers, making you laugh. 

“Here,” You gently slide your hands along his arm, one hand moving to cup the underside of his wrist, “It’s right next to your tendon,” the pads of your fingers slide along the tendon in the center of his wrist, making him jolt slightly as a chill runs up his spine. Settling your fingers next to his tendon, you apply a little pressure, smiling as you find it. He shuffles uncomfortably, pressing his lips together firmly in order to muffle the soft noise that bubbles up at the back of his throat.

Lesley follows your lead, pressing his fingers too far up his wrist. You correct him gently, placing your fingers over his and guiding him back down to the correct spot. 

“Thank you, Lesley.” You whisper, looking up at him. He smiles in response, shaking his head lightly. The sun begins to set further into the horizon, casting a bronze hue over his features.

There was no mistaking how gorgeous Lesley was on any given day, but in light of a sunset he was a whole other form of beautiful. The warm light shines over the apex of his flushed cheekbones, sinking into darkness within the hollows of his cheeks. His lips, soft looking and pink, are illuminated stunningly by the sun’s farewell. 

As you gaze at him, your fingers still pressed against his pulse, you could feel it quicken. Your anxiety rears its head and you look around the balloon, the absence of ground starting to freak you out as you realize how high up you are. 

Lesley, takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “We’re fine, what’s wrong?” He pouts, worried that he had done something to upset you. His thumbs slide over your cheekbones, wiping away any spare tears.

“Sorry- Sorry… your heart rate picked up and I was worried that something happened.” You chuckle dryly, taking a few deep breaths. Tilting your head a little into the warmth of his palms

He looks guilty, chewing his bottom lip slightly before speaking “No, sorry, I just- I just realized something is all.” 

Lesley’s eyes are soft and glistening, his cheeks tinted with more than just the sun’s kiss, and his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. Heat pools in your stomach at the sight of him, his messy hair falling over his face wildly.

You lift your hand tentatively, gently pushing his hair back. Attempting to tame the wildness of his hair, your fingers slide against his scalp. In the end, you just push it back, mumbling something about him growing it out.

His hands return to your sides, his touch light as his fingers settle into the curve of your waist. Bringing yourself towards him, the tip of your nose brushes against his lightly. Lesley lets out a shuddering breath at the proximity, his large hands sliding down to envelope the apex of your hips.

Lesley was perfect. In every conceivable way. And god he smelled so good.

He tilts his head a bit, letting his lips ghost over yours. You could feel his breath wafting over yours, shuddering and uneven. Your body gravitates into him, hands sliding along the sides of his face lightly, your nose pressing into his cheek. 

The fact that you were a little more than a thousand feet in the air couldn’t possibly bother you now. Your hands slide down his neck, cradling the base of his skull. In your peripherals the sky behind him is blanketed in a pinky-orange hue, clouds breezing across the scape slowly.

Growing impatient, you finally pull him closer, meeting his lips in a short delicate kiss. It doesn’t last long, and you could feel him chasing the feeling of your lips as you pull away. Lesley pouts a bit, his eyes big and round as they look into yours with a silent plea. You couldn’t help but smile, his warmth lingering on your skin. The heat pooling in your stomach simmers into a white hot desire to kiss him again. It’s almost as if he can read your mind when his arm hooks snugly around the small of your back and he finds your mouth again, capturing it within his. 

Lesley’s lips were every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, fitting against yours perfectly. All the years of longing glances and pent up sexual frustration pours out as you kiss him. His hands press firmly into your back as he pulls a long breath in through his nose. His shoulders droop as he melts into you, your chests pressing together as he holds you as close as humanly possible.

Your perfect, beautiful, gentle Lesley kisses with a surprising amount of force. His mouth moves against yours in an intense rhythm, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip as he envelopes your mouth in his. You sigh into his kiss, and his hands travel up your sides. Bracketing your face in his warm palms. He nudges your jaw open with his thumb, sliding the pad of his finger along the flesh of your bottom lip. 

Your hands find their way down his torso, sliding against his plaid shirt before hitting the hem of his jeans. You hook your fingers around his belt loops, keeping his hips up against you. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his own against it. He breaks the kiss briefly, huffing out a few breaths against your face before diving back in. You let out a muffled yelp as he crashes back into you, your eyes opening for a moment before fluttering closed once more.

Your fingers trail around his waist band, tugging on the loops a little. Your thumb circles the silver buckle of his belt, sliding down the front seam of his jeans. Lesley chokes out a moan, the force of it breaking the kiss. Rather than let him pull away from you, you trail your lips down his chin. 

Leaving hot open mouth kisses down the center of his throat, your teeth gently graze over his Adam's apple. The tip of your tongue circles it twice before dipping down to the start of his collarbones. 

You trace the outline of him through the fabric of his jeans, circling your index finger around the tip briefly. His jaw falls open at the tease, a shuddering groan falling from his pretty pink lips.

Adjusting, you push your knee between his legs, keeping his hips against you as you take your hands off his waistband. Sliding them up his torso, you unbutton his shirt a little further. You push your leg further between his own, grinding against him. 

“Wait…” He gasps out, contradicting himself and letting his head tilt back for you.

You pause, stilling your lips against the warm skin of his neck, “What’s wrong?” You whisper, pressing a small kiss to his throat.

“Are you- are you sure?” His hips slide against yours, his desperation evident. 

“Very.” You mumble, letting your teeth nip their way across his collarbone. Flattening your tongue, you slide it up the expanse of his throat, pausing as you find his pulse. His heart hammers against your tongue, your teeth nipping lightly at the artery. His hand cradles the back of your head, his slender fingers sliding into your hair.  

You take his skin between your teeth, biting gently into his soft skin with all the care in the world. You suck gently on the bite to soothe the small bruise left in its wake. The vibrations of his moans against your lips fuel the fire and winding you tight. 

Your hands slide down his torso again, leaving his shirt partially unbuttoned. You drag your teeth along his pulse, nudging the collar of his shirt aside as you reach his collarbone. Hands resting on his hips once more, you stop his desperate grinding. 

Lesley huffs out heavy breaths, lacking the stimulation his hips were providing. He goes to speak but is stopped by your hand sliding over his waistband, dipping down to tease him again. You pay special attention to his collarbone, leaving the length of him as an afterthought.

He sighs out your name, sounding a little strained at your touch. You detach from his neck, pressing small kisses to the hickeys darkening his lightly tanned skin. Hooking your fingers into the buckle of his belt, you quickly unfasten it. Lifting your head, you press your cheek into his, feeling the burning shyness simmering under his skin. 

Your lips graze the shell of his ear, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” is all you whisper. You turn slightly, kissing along his jawline in slow drags.

He nods, whispering back an almost inaudible ‘okay’ which is quickly cut off by a sharp inhale as you pop the button of his jeans. Your index finger hooks over his zipper, sliding it down slowly. He squirms a bit against you, the slowness of your movements only proving to frustrate him further. 

His hand grips your hair, tugging your head back to connect your lips to his once again. Mouth slotting against yours, his tongue weaves its way into your mouth, sliding along the expanse of your own. His other hand slides a finger along the line of your jaw, brushing your hair out of your face as he envelopes you in his affection.

You flatten your hand, sliding it into his unfastened jeans. He groans into your mouth, his hips moving up to greet your hand, only separated by the thin fabric of his boxers. You could feel his pulse under your palm as you cup him in your hand, your thumb circling the head lazily. Using your free hand to keep him still, eating up his breathy whines as you tease him. You detach your mouth from his, biting your way down his neck. Taking the time to worship his skin, leaving large dark bruises as your mouth dips down to his exposed chest. 

He huffs out into the open air, moaning loudly as you begin to stroke his length through his boxers. He twitches underneath your touch, attempting to grind against your hand to pick up the pace, but you push his hips up against the wall of the balloon’s basket. 

“Stop.” You whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth briefly. He groans, untangling his hand from your hair to cover his reddened face. 

Stopping your slow ministrations, you kiss down his throat again, over the curve of his collarbone and down his sternum. Lowering yourself slowly, you kneel on the floor of the basket. You free your hand from his jeans, much to his displeasure, but your fingers hook around his belt loops. Tugging his jeans down his thighs, he lets out a small gasp, panicking a bit as he drops his hand and meets your eyes.

You smile up at him, your hand finding him again, leisurely sliding along him through the thin fabric. Sliding his boxers down his thighs to sit along with his jeans, you take in the full sight of him. 

Your fingers curl around him and he sucks in a breath through his clenched teeth. Tracing the thick vein running along the underside of his shaft, you meet his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the basket, his blunt fingernails digging into the wicker material. 

Lesley’s eyes are blown wide, the honey-like color of his irises limited to a thin ring around his dilated pupils. The flushed color of his skin is illuminated by the thin layer of sweat gathering at his temples. He watches you with labored breath as you slowly begin to pump him in your hand. Swiping your thumb over his tip, you use the precum gathering in the slit as a form of lubricant. He shudders, his mouth dropping open as he lets out a broken moan.  

Leaning forward, you slide your tongue along the side of him, the tip running along the pulsing vein. He buck his hips absentmindedly and you flatten your free hand over his stomach, keeping him pressed against the wall. He whines softly, your hand moving slowly along him, your tongue circling around the tip in an aggravatingly slow fashion. You were toying with him, watching him carefully as he writhes.

The noises falling from his lips sounded like the most gorgeous symphony. You knew full well how desperate he was, his hips fighting to move despite your restrictions.

Flattening your tongue, you take just the head of him into your mouth. You quicken the pace of your hand, pumping him a little faster. You drag your tongue along the underside of his irritated tip, sliding it along his slit. 

Lesley chokes out a strained moan, his head falling forward. Quickly pushing his hair out of his face, intent on watching you despite how achingly slow you were going. His eyelids flutter as you take him further, his head sliding along the flat of your tongue. Dropping your hands to gently grip his thighs, your fingernails lightly dig into the flesh. 

Without restrictions, his hips jerk into you, the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You groan against him, the vibration almost causing him to unravel. Lifting yourself off of him a bit, you push back down, the tip of your nose brushing against his base continuously as you find a rhythm. Dropping all teasing and focusing on his pleasure, you keep your pacing steady, your tongue curling around his head to provide extra stimulation. 

As you push him closer to the edge, his muscles tense and his thoughts go flat. Lesley couldn’t think or say anything, his brain completely fogging over. His vision blurs as your soft noises vibrate into his sensitive skin, his tip sliding between your upper palate and the flat of your tongue. Completely overcome with everything around him, a bead of sweat trails its way down the tip of his nose.  He couldn’t possibly care how loud he was being under your control.

Feeling himself getting closer, his hands find their way into your hair. He gently rakes his fingers over your scalp as his back arches, pushing himself as far into you as he can. Lesley is completely incoherent, words coming out broken and jumbled in between pants and gasps. He twitches in your mouth, his hips stuttering lightly as he orgasms. 

You take it as well as you can, your nails digging into his thighs as you focus on not choking at his release. His knees wobble, and you pull off of him slowly. You take a second to swallow fully, standing from your kneeling position to hold him upright when he wavers. He looked completely fucked out, his eyes swimming as they land on your face.

Clearing your throat, you speak, “God, Lesley, you okay?” The question is accompanied by a light laugh. You lift your hand, brushing a hand through his hair to get a good look at his face.

“I love you.” He pants, leaning in to capture you in a kiss. He could taste himself on your lips, taking the time to rub his thumbs over your cheeks. 

When the kiss finally breaks, you laugh again, “I love you too, Les, now answer my question”.

“Oh! Shit- I’m so sorry, are you okay? I just-” He cuts himself off, floundering a bit as his mind races with the implications of what just happened. His hands keep your face bracketed in his palms, his eyes searching yours in a panic.

“I’m fine, promise,” Nodding, you press a few quick kisses to both of his cheeks. “Are you feeling okay? Lightheaded at all?” You ask, a little concerned considering the altitude. 

He shakes his head, “I’m perfect, great- you’re great, and perfect.” He scrambles to shower you in compliments, peppering your face in kisses in an oddly apologetic fashion.

“Thanks,” You giggle, smiling as he showers you in affection, “Now, can you bring us down? I’d like to take you to dinner.”

[compressingsins]

|| Mismatched

Yandere Grimmjow x Chubby f!reader

Warnings : Insecure reader, obsessed Grimmjow, body worship, aftercare, very touchy Grimmjow, little plot, detailed nsfw, marking. This is a nsfw 18+ fic, minors please do not interact.

“I want you to be mine, woman.”

Hello all! So I’m back (I’m not dead!), but this is just my comeback post! I know I haven’t posted in an entire year, but now I’m back and I’m gonna try to post more! I have a bunch of drafts I need to finish, so this is just like a post to show I’m still posting! Even if it flops which it might, I wanted to post something and here it is! Grimmjow is a hottie with little recognition, so here ya go!

Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥

How'd you end up in a cave in Huecho Mundo with an Espada, was a long story. You're a Soul Reaper, yet he hasn't tried attacking you, not even once even if you did attack him. You were previously injured and when the Espada took you away, he treated your wounds at the best of his abilities, which honestly confused you. You've seen this Espada in action before, Grimmjow, one of Aizens strongest subordinates.

He frightened you of course, and you were even more petrified as you didn't know what he was planning on doing with you. What's even weirder is that you could sense no intentions of harming you, from him, his body sitting across from yours seeming carefree. It's almost like the Espada was... protecting you, or whatever you honestly had no idea. You weren't going to let your guard down to him completely, still watching him closely from afar.

The light of your Kido spell displaying your shadows, both of you sitting on opposite sides of the cave you were in. There was no fear in your body, but you had kept your eyes on the cyan haired male, though he was looking at the ground in silence. With a low sigh, you gulped to question him but you were cautious and simply wanted to know one thing. Once you cleared your throat, Grimmjow looked up at you across from him.

"Why... why am I here?"

Your body tensed from the sharp glare he sent you, and your nerves went into overdrive once he stood up. Still sore and injured from your previous battle with a Hollow, you tried your best in just backing away from the Espada, unaware of what he was doing. You flinched and pulled your hands in front of your face, shielding yourself as he crouched inches before you.

You were surprised since he didn't do anything, slowly dropping your hands from your face to see him looking unexpectedly calm. When you've seen him, he was always loud and aggressive, energetic and dangerous but for whatever reason, you didn't feel in danger right now. Why he was being this way with you was so unknown, as you didn't dare question him for it may upset him.

"Put your hands down, I'm not gonna hurt you, woman."

Only being able to look at him, you slowly let your hands drop to your sides and eyed the male who continued staring into your eyes. There was something in his eyes, like a hint of peace, sadness and concern but it was odd to you. If he was feeling like this, why, you didn't know but still you didn't want to cut him off. He was inches away from you, though, and it didn't fail to make you flustered.

"What's your name?"

An arched eyebrow displayed your confusion, Grimmjow still waiting patiently for you to say something. That patience, however, quickly ran out as his aggressive voice rung in your ears.

"I said tell me your damn name, girl."

You jumped from that, your words almost instantly coming out but it didn't help the second of fear that penetrated your body, stuttering a bit over your words.

"It- it's ____..."

"____."

The way he repeated your name was... well something you didn't expect, something cute and honestly you wanted to hear him say it again. You weren't being weird with yourself or anything, but you just wanted to hear it again because he said it, like it meant something to him. Your name wasn't a name that was big or important, so that's why it made you feel the way it did.

You didn't want to upset him or anything but you had a question for him, biting your lip before your eyes trailed back to his face. The mask on his face interested you and it failed to scare you, and you found him particularly... sweet, in a way? He treated your wounds when he didn't have to, and with his clothes that he shredded to patch up the cuts amongst your skin.

Gulping harshly on your spit, swallowing the lump in your throat, you prepared yourself once more to question him.

"May I ask... why did you, bring me... here?"

An ice cold glare was shot at you, making your breath hitch and your body once again began to try and instinctively retreat. Once he saw that, his blue eyes softened and stared you down like before, calm and collected. Still, he didn't seem of a threat or like he was going to harm you so almost instantly, you relaxed.

"I want you to be mine, woman."

You couldn't believe how straight forward he was, a gasp of air escaping you a second after hearing his bold words. Was he serious, you're a Soul Reaper and he's an Espada, that was near impossible. Besides, you think you're basic and he's particularly handsome, so you didn't understand why he supposedly wanted you.

Also as a different race, you would expect him to want one of the same as him and not an enemy. You were honestly going to deny it but you didn't know how to, maybe he'd get upset and aggressive like he usually is when you see him in the World of the Living. You knew you couldn't match him at all, so you didn't want to risk that besides the fact that you're still injured.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

You couldn't tell if he was serious or not but you were all ears right now, curious as to why he wanted you to be his. You didn't know what he really wanted and maybe his words were true but it too made you think that it was all a trick, a trick to give up information. You really didn't have any but you had enough, some that would be very futile to give up.

"We're enemies, why? That doesn't seem... logical."

For a brief moment he was silent, observing your face that was slightly contorted in confusion. A growl emitted from his throat, overflowing through his mouth once it opened to speak.

"You interested me, when I first saw you. Originally, I was just supposed to bring you back with me but seeing you on multiple occasions made me fall for you. Aizen wants me to bring you back for information, but I don't give a shit what he wants. I want you here with me even if you or anyone else doesn't like it."

"Why me? I'm a Soul Reaper and you're-"

"I know what the hell I am!"

His outburst caused your entire body to shudder with slight fear, but he calmed once he saw how scared you looked after that.

"I can't explain it but when I first saw you, something about you attached me. That's never happened before, with anyone, and I hate myself for feeling this way about you. Can't even fucking focus... just because you're on my damn mind."

He seemed like he was dying to tell someone this, specifically you, and it was kinda nice knowing someone felt like this about you. Still you didn't know if it was real or not, but you found your heart warming from listening to him speak. He was kinda... cute acting like this, making your body heat up with comfort that unexpectedly indulged your body.

"You're staying here to live with me, ____."

That shot a dart of fear through your body, hoping he wasn't serious with his words. You didn't want to leave your home and live in a World full of Hollows, though he is an Espada, a strong one at that. That still didn't make a difference because you didn't know him, nor did you want to stay in this hell of a place, leaving your friends.

"But I have a life in the Soul Society and the World of the Living..."

Your words were quiet, shallow and it's obvious why they were. He seemed to have expected your timid and shy behavior, staring into your face with a sense of worry, worry that he'd have to force you to stay here with him. He didn't want to have to do that but he would, if you wouldn't willingly come. His question though, grabbed your attention...

"Come on, can you honestly say you're happy living there? Yeah, letting people talk shit and treat you any type of way isn't living. That's tolerating that shit..."

You could honestly say you agreed with him, gasping and looking into his eyes that shined with a certain sparkle your heart couldn't handle. He seemed genuinely concerned for you, like he actually wanted to be with you but you still couldn't trust it. He's of the enemy which makes it hard to believe anything he said to you.

His words seemed legit though, but that could've just been you being gullible and vulnerable to anyone, like most of the time. His face was unreadable and you didn't want to play yourself, just because he was the one responsible for some of your friends injuries. Nearly killing two of your friends was even worse, the thought tightening your chest.

You just couldn't come to terms with what was true and what was not, how could you trust an enemy? Even if he is telling the truth, how could you be with someone you've never acquainted with, let alone always fight when you saw him. You were surprised when his hand took a hold of your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze before he let his hand retreat back to his side.

"You're too damn stubborn, letting those people run all over you, ____. I wanna protect you from all their bullshit, keep you here... safe with me. Honestly, I'm fucking desperate... desperate for you and if you don't willingly stay, I'll force you to so make your choice."

His face was contorted in anger but you could tell he wasn't upset, no bad energy radiating off of him which relieved your tension just slightly. Maybe he was right, you were gullible, because you were honestly believing everything he was saying to you. Disappointed as you were in yourself just for believing him...

"Those damn idiots don't deserve you." You didn't understand why he was being this way, only seeming to want to kill everything he came across, "You fucking let them push you around, just because you're weaker than them. You shouldn't be scared of those pieces of shit..."

He wasn't lying when he said your supposed to be friends talked shit about you, but you always just thought it was on a joking level. Even if it occured nearly everyday, you still just took their words as jokes. When he called you weak though, it made you gasp out in shame and disappointment, though you do need more training.

Just haven't realized you were as weak as he made you seem caused a wave of embarrassment to flood your veins. A growl that emitted from his chest averted your gaze back to his face, seeing him a little closer to you, on both his knees with his face closer to yours. Your entire body tensed, your cheeks ghosting with crimson shades that changed your skin nearly entirely.

He didn't seem phased by how close he was to you, taking in your flushed face. You could easily forgive people but him, Grimmjow, he wrecked havoc on so many of your friends but... he also seemed genuine, and you didn't know if you were desperate but you were considering it. Now that he said what he said previously, you realize that you do get pushed around more than you thought.

Your eyes went to his face, hearing a slight uneasy breath escape him, his cheeks quickly fading as red faintly appeared. Maybe you weren't desperate, maybe he was meant to take you away for some reason, a reason you couldn't pinpoint. Your heart kept jolting for the male, the enemy and you didn't think you would feel for someone who's done so many bad things to you. Not specifically but to your... friends?

Were they really your friends, you didn't know because everything he said was true. Maybe you were just tolerating them since you really didn't have anyone else, though, you did have other friends that genuinely cared for you. Most of them do push you around, but then there is that one group that loves and cares for you.

That's why you didn't know if you should stay...

"Even if you're not as strong as most, I can protect you... keep you safe."

When his hands went to your body, you were surprised with how calm your mind and body seemed to be, practically inviting him to touch your figure. His hands were going to your thighs, just before slowly ghosting to your hips which brung your bodies close together. Your breath did catch in your throat, though.

He just let his hands rest on your hips though, softly sinking his claws in your flesh which finally made you tense. Still, he was looking into your face with that same expression but he wasn't mad, like it was his normal expression. You were practically being pulled to his chest only a few inches away, fortunately.

"So what, you gonna stay wimme or not woman?”

You bit your lip, letting your mind go into a frenzy of scrambled thoughts, trying its best to find the correct words for you to speak. You wanted to see your friends but you also didn't want to get hurt, considering how he confirmed that he'd force you if you don't. Maybe he'd even hurt your friends back home and you honestly didn't want that. You had your answer, the one you didn't think you'd pick, in the beginning...

"I'll... I'll stay with you... Grimmjow."

As you said his name, your eyes averted to his face that turned calm, a wicked grin spreading across his face before he latched his lips onto yours. It was so surprising that you barely took in a breath but easily melted into his lips that were somewhat rough, though, it drummed your heart. It wasn't a minute after until he let his long tongue slip into your mouth, letting his thicker muscle dance and caress your own that barely had any control.

Your hands instinctively went to the big set of shoulders before you, digging your nails in the flesh as your eyes shut to succumb into the kiss of Grimmjow. He was growling into the kiss, flushing his body with yours to maneuver his hands to your ass, grasping handfuls of it that made you flinch and push at his chest.

Almost instantly, Grimmjow released your soft cheeks to stare into your eyes, like he genuinely was concerned for your timid form.

"What's the problem?"

The way he acted was how he already was so it didn't really bother you, but you didn't want this to escalate far more than it should. It was obvious as to what he was trying to do and you didn't want to act on this so quickly, considering you've only just agreed to staying with him.

You didn't even get the chance to properly introduce each other, yet he was so determined to strip you and himself from your restraints. He was already half naked since he used his clothes to patch you up, earlier, thus leaving only his pants and footwear upon his body.

Your body was getting hotter from his touch, however, which he could physically feel underneath his fingertips. You were grateful that he was giving you a chance to speak to him, as it didn't seem like that's something he'd do in the beginning, just from his attitude you've previously observed.

"I'm just... this is moving too fast, for me. If you want me to stay with you, you can't just rush me to do this with you. We've only just properly met each other..."

A glare was shot at you, a growl submerging from him but his grip on your hips tightened, keeping your body still. He obviously didn't want to harm you, though, and you felt a sincere sense of warmth seek throughout your blood, flowing to your brain that was mushy from his feather touch.

"Your body says otherwise, baby. After all, I've been straining myself the entire time from just being near you. I can't really contain my want for you anymore..."

You couldn't lie, when his hands touched your body, a wave of heat ran through your body, sending shivers through you, pleasurable ones.

"It'll be a low thing to force you to have sex with me, so I'll let you decide. But, your scent is... intoxicating..."

His voice sounded strained, almost painful as he spoke those words to you. It's like he's literally been dying to do something with you, but you were still confused on what you really wanted and what you wanted to do. Besides, you've only partake in these kind of acts a few times, three to be exact, and you never got to finish...

Just because the guys you did it with only did it for their pleasure, as they didn't honestly want to stay with you. It hurts you to think about it, so you can't really make up your mind if you even want this or not. He seemed extremely desperate, though, and if that was the case being the person you are, you wanted to help him.

You couldn't even get a word out, before he snarled out something... extremely vulgar.

"I've been wanting to fuck you full of my cum, for a very long time, ____. Being in a rut without someone to fuck, is so fucking annoying..."

He looked so defeated and fed up with it, you just can't help but wonder how long he's been in a rut. But still, that wasn't as important as your decision for him, if you wanted to do this or not. It was an understatement to say that you weren't somewhat turned on from just his touch, and that kiss added fuel to the flames.

Your mind was telling you how much you wanted this and so was your body, but your heart had a trust barrier that he didn't break through yet, still not believing him all that much. You wanted to because he seemed so sincere, so you had to bite your lip to brace yourself for your answer. Looking at him and placing a hand on his arm, he looked up at you which caused a gasp to escape you, suddenly.

"Well, if it'll help you then... we can do it."

In the blink of an eye, you were pinned underneath the bigger male, his lips latched onto yours as deep groans escaped him. Your eyes were wide, feeling as he grounded his hips with yours and began humping into your soft body, unintentional whimpers and moans escaping you.

His hands were gripping tightly around your wrists, holding you completely still against his warm body. Your eyes instinctively shut, melting into the warmth of his body, feeling your heat spasming around nothing. His lips on yours was taking your breath away, literally.

You didn't even realize you were panting into the air, until you heard a chuckle rumble from the male on top of you. Your eyes opened, seeing a smug smirk on his face as he stared down at your flushed crimson face. You could feel his heartbeat on your heat, the pulsing being violent that twitched tingles into your body.

He loved the way you squirmed underneath his body, you hardly realized his hands weren't on your wrists anymore. His voice grabbed your attention, though, your heart pounding from his words.

"Show me your neck, baby. I wanna mark you as mine."

You saw how sharp his teeth were already, so your body tensed just a bit and he saw this. His hands went to your plush hips, squeezing them in his hands to sooth your nerves. You gulped just before tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck that made Grimmjow lick his lips.

It wasn't even a minute after, until he latched his mouth onto your neck, really close to the lob of your ear and you nearly screamed once his teeth dug in. He was like a vampire, feeling a trickle of blood escaping from the punctured holes that were bubbling from your neck. His hands went back to your wrist to keep you still.

You bit your lip to conceal your shrieks, feeling his tongue working on the blood that was streaming from the mark he made. He seemed to be enjoying your taste quite well, for a minute you'd think he was actually a vampire. Though, his lips created suction around the mark, pulling at the flesh and the wound electrifying more than pain.

It was a pleasurable pain that made you broken-ly moan, your body shuddering and writhing underneath him, and it made Grimmjow smirk as you shifted your heat agaisnt the tent in the front of his pants. That movement electrified his hips back into motion, pressing himself harder agaisnt you as you felt his covered length slip between your folds.

A gasp escaped you, feeling how heavy and twitchy it felt, obviously he wasn't a small man. The thought nerved you, gasping and mewling due to the liquid you could feel streaming down your leg. Your own fluids escaping you and Grimmjow could feel it too.

Once he was sure he imprinted his mark into your neck, he pulled off of you with a popping wet sound, a string of saliva breaking off as he pulled away. You shivered when a breeze of air tickled the freshly made mark, Grimmjow grinning at your current state, flushed and trembling.

It wasn't long until he started tugging at his pants, your eyes widening in panick that he all to well seen. He didn't care, though, continuing to work on his confines that was tightened extremely around his length. He's never been this hard before, feeling like his cock would explode as soon as he grazed you with it.

"Wait, Grimmjow?"

"What now, woman? You wanna stop?"

In all honesty, you didn't, but you haven't done this in a while so you thought a little preparation would be necessary.

"It's just that, well... I haven't done this in a while, so can you prep me first?"

A growl emitted from his throat but he could understand, although he couldn't contain himself any longer. He just wanted to claim your body as his and that alone still brought tension in your veins, slightly shaking at the thought. You were confused when his hands went to your hips, lifting you up to suddenly be on your hands and knees.

He was behind you which made an sound akin to a herd of buffalo stomping in your ear. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, sending a warm chill to electrify throughout your veins. He was pressed up agaisnt you and hard too, you could feel the pulse of your cunt beating agaisnt his length that felt extremely thick.

"Just relax, baby. This'll feel good for the both of us and," He layed his chest agaisnt your back, placing his hands beside yours while his hips were now flushed with yours, "I know you haven't felt that delicious orgasm you've been craving, in years. But, I can bring you to that point.”

Your face heated from his words and it took you a moment to realize he was completely naked, and you could hear the smirk from his words. A shiver ran through you from his hot breath that fanned over the side of your face, his lips grazing your neck and back before he sat himself up. You tried so hard to look forward but you turned your head, trying to see what your body was in for.

You caught a glimpse of it, being so stiff and practically pouring thick substances of pre-cum. You didn't know but it looked like he was so hard that all the blood in the organ turned his length purple, enticing a harsh gulp in your throat. You nearly shrieked as his claws shredded your clothes, now being bare to his eyes, even your underwear tasting the same fate.

Your body tried balling up, since you were completely exposed to the handsome blue haired male, behind you. You thought he would stop here, until you felt his hands roaming your body, quiet praising coming from him.

"Damnit, so fucking sexy... so damn soft..!"

Instantly, your eyes beaded with tears that stung the corners, just because you've always wanted to hear those words from someone. At least something like that. His nails were digging into your skin, slightly letting them drag across to feel you shivering and tingling underneath him. A smack to your ass made you shudder, jolting forward from the sting behind it.

He grinned to himself, loving how your cheeks jiggled with every little movement he made you do. He wasn't one for preparing but he wanted you to feel good too, not only that, but he wanted to make you cum. He wanted your orgasm to be intense and that's what he's intending, as he knows he can give you that intense high you so desperately and obviously wanted.

"I'm more bigger than these average little shits, so you may wanna prepare yourself~"

"Grimm-"

Your words were short once you felt his tip sliding in, feeling quite thicker and bigger than it looked, when you saw it. Your chest fell to the ground, feeling Grimmjow lay his chest agaisnt your back, carefully thrusting his hips to get you to open up to him. You didn't know it, but Grimmjow was struggling to keep his composure, his eyes tightened shut and his teeth gritting the more he slid in.

"Shit..!"

His hands were now on yours, balling up and squeezing your smaller hands in his. You let out a hoarse cry of slight pain, feeling how wide you were being stretched from his thick length. Grimmjow was literally moaning agaisnt your neck, trying his best to latch onto you but failing as your walls struggled to let him in.

You were far tighter than he'd think you'd be but it was a bonus, tensing up his body as he tried to push himself into you. He couldn't though, your walls squeezing extremely tight around only the tip and some inches, his right hand going to your hip to pull you back on him. He didn't expect this extreme tightness, his eyes nearly tearing up from how good this felt.

"____! You needa... you gotta relax, damn..!"

You were trying your best to relax, pressing your arms on the ground and laying your head on top of both of them. That was kind of a mistake, now you could see him entering your body, being way bigger than he seemed to be a moment ago. This sight only made you tighten around him, vulgar moans escaping the both of you.

He rested his chin on the nape of your neck, placing both hands firmly on your hips before he naturally began prying your insides open. Instant near screams escaped you, and rumbling moans secreted pass his gritted teeth. You didn't know if it was from pain or pleasure, your noises only seeming to encourage the male to sink more wildly into you.

His pace was slow, but the thickness of his length made it all the more pleasurable feeling those pulsing veins dragging agaisnt your velvet walls. You tried suppressing your moans but his hips began snapping harshly into yours, now that he was fully inside of you, feeling how his balls lightly tapped your already drooling clit.

You wanted to scream, when his arms wrapped around your waist, quickly guiding his big fingers to your sweet neglected pussy, rubbing harsh circles into it. The obscene sound of his hips slamming agaisnt yours made your walls clench around his cock, almost trapping him inside of your overly wet insides. You couldn't believe the warmth trailing down your cheeks, hearing the deep growls and groans of the male fucking into you.

His arms were extremely tight around your body, making sure he pulled you back to meet his thrusts, feeling the full force of his cock that collided with your spongy sensitive spot. You couldn't help the lewd screams escaping you, feeling that bubbling heat boiling in your abdomen, ready to burst as he seemed to repeatedly began bashing into that spot.

Even with his cock hitting every pleasurable spot inside your soft walls, he still managed to find a spot that spilled tears from your eyelids, feeling his warm breath fanning the side of your face. He was moaning directly into your ear, his chest rubbing agaisnt your back which both were sweaty from the intense session.

Grimmjow, however, took note of your tightened insides, angling his hips to fuck you in an upward motion, making sure his cock kissed that spot each time. He didn't know he would but when he heard you let out a howling moan, you could feel your cervix give way to him, Grimmjow gritting his teeth as it clamped down on the head of his cock.

His blue locks were sticking to his forehead, layed out from this situation, though he didn't even know someone could give him this much pleasure. He could feel fluids escaping his slit, massive amount of pre-cum accidentally slipping out and into you which felt so good to him. You didn't notice it but he was still making you feel good, too good in fact as you felt that hot coil in your stomach wind way too tight.

It didn't want to break which annoyed you, causing you to move your hips back against his, meeting his thrusts that nearly broke you. He could feel how much tighter you were now, gradually picking up pace and force that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You didn't even realize his fingers weren't on your clit anymore, but you felt the pressure of his body removed from yours.

His voice snapped you back into reality, listening to his broken moans as he tried to speak through the pleasure and the loud clapping sound made between the both of you.

"Cum for me..! Cum for me, ____! Fucking cover me with your sweet juices..!"

His hands were on your hips, harshly pulling you back on his cock before your body took note of what was happening, almost instantly feeling that high you desperately wanted arising. His eyes were trained on where he was entering your soft body, loving how he could see your juices sloshing out and around his cock, dripping onto the ground beneath you.

"Scream out my name, woman! Let these fuckers know I'm claiming this pussy... ngh!"

Not even a second after, you screamed exactly what he demanded you say, feeling that delicious orgasm electrify your nerves, frying your brain nearly from how intense this was.

"GRIMMJOW!"

He smiled devilishly at this but that smile instantly went away from how much tighter you became, feeling his own orgasm approaching and quickly. He could tell you couldn't really take this, seeing as your body desperately tried retreating from his massive cock and thrusting hips. That made him wrap his arms around your body again, holding you tightly to his warm chest that rubbed agaisnt your back.

You wanted to scream feeling him hitting even deeper inside you, your pussy fluttering and quivering around his thick length. From the uneven breaths that came from Grimmjow, you could tell that he was extremely close. He was slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, in return, you could feel the twitching and throbbing of his cock.

"Fuuuck..! I'm gonna fucking cum in you, baby..! I want you to take it all for me, don't spill a drop..!"

"I can't... can't take it..! Anymore, Grimmjow..!"

Another knot formed in your abdomen from his methodical thrusts, slowly yet deeply pushing into you, clearly lost to his own pleasure. You felt a cool substance on your shoulder, Grimmjow drooling as he nearly became delirious from the orgasm that broke over him. The force behind his orgasm hit a bundle of nerves inside of you, causing your overly stimulated pussy to gush all over him again.

This orgasm was more intense than the first one and he could honestly say that his was more intense than any past fling he's ever had. You're not a fling, however, Grimmjow wanting to keep you more than anything. As his seed seeped throughout your body, he continued to slowly piston his hips in a circular motion that stirred your insides. You could only twitch, your body spasming with every movement.

You barely registered his tongue slowly stroking your neck, placing kisses agaisnt it before he plunged himself deeply inside you, staying stationary to make sure all of his fluids got into your body. Both yours and his juices were streaming down your leg, leaving you relaxed but concerned for one thing. You couldn't say it though, soft sobs escaping you that shot a gasp from Grimmjow before he stopped licking your neck.

Sitting up but still buried to the hilt inside of you, the little movement causing you to moan softly, feeling him pushing his cock inside of you to stay there. A growl came from him, before he once again placed his hands on the sides of your head and his abdomen agaisnt your ass.

"What's wrong?"

"This is it..?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're gonna leave me, after this... it's okay, I'm used to it..."

He could hear the pain in your voice, a snarl escaping him and a gasp of shock slipping past your lips, as he wrapped his arms back around your body to hold you close to him. You could feel the rapid beating of his heart agaisnt your back, listening to his words that seemed... real, for the first time.

"Fuck that, I'm staying with you and you're staying with me. You're mine, you're not going anywhere I've already told you this. Whatever those assholes did to you doesn't matter, you're only gonna be with me, no matter what."

Your heart jolted, listening to him. This was right, this choice was right there's no doubt in your mind, anymore. He seems to genuinely care for you, feeling his lips kiss your neck again before he slowly pulled himself from your abused core. You felt a pleasurable chill run through your body, suddenly being on your back with your legs hitched up around his hips.

He was looking down at you, smirking as he took in your confused expression. Entrap-ping your body with his hands, Grimmjow inched his face closer to yours as he enclosed on your lips. Both your eyes closed in a sweet and gentle kiss, him pulling away to look into your eyes. You could honestly say that you believe him, and your heart is expanding for him far faster than you'd thought.

"We're not done yet, baby. I want you to look in my eyes, while I pound into this tight pussy of yours. You may wanna save your voice, we'll be here for a while."

You tried denying him since your body was overly sensitive, but a harsh thrust of his hips cut you off, already feeling his cock bashing into your cervix. Your eyes sealed shut, but his was staring down at your lovely face, bottling up the cute expressions you made. He knew you didn't know but he honestly loved you, and he was determined to keep you safe.

He wouldn't let those 'friends' of yours come in tact with you, ever again, though he wasn't going to keep you locked away. He had a plan for everything, though, he wouldn't allow anyone to be near you as they used to be. He doesn't trust anyone with you, wanting to keep you by him forever.

Truth be told, he'd possibly quit all of his evilness just to keep you safe. Yes, you were mismatched, but you were meant to be.