#i say usually because sometimes i do just sit half naked in my room

[maplesturniolo]

Shower~C.S

Warning- SMUTT, “just friends”, shower sex, nicknames (ma), nothing else really (my first story, also not proofread)

Summary- your sleepover gets a little spicy when Chris finds out your secret. (Sorry this is so short)

Almost every weekend me and the triplets find time to have a sleepover, but this week only Chris and nick could make it. That’s because Matt was really sick and didn’t want to get anyone else sick as well. Particularly because Matt is sick we are sleeping over at my house. And don’t get me wrong I love these boys so much, but I kind of have a small crush on Chris. I hope he doesn’t know and now I’m worried because I only have one small ish bed in my room and one spear room that Nick usually likes to sleep in, so that means Chris would have to be with me…

~

“Hey we should watch a movie, I seen an ad on TikTok for it” nick said looking up from his phone a split second before reaching for the remote. We were all sitting on the large couch I had in my house. Nick and I sat beside each other and Chris was looking in the fridge for food. Once nick got the movie ready to play I readjusted my self to be laying my head on his thigh and had my legs spread to the other side of the couch. “Chris you coming” nick shouted at Chris who was still looking through my kitchen. I looked over at him, leaned against the side of the fridge his veiny hands grasping a can of Pepsi.

I wonder what those long slender fingers would feel like inside me?

“Hey you good?” I snapped out of my thoughts when Nick asked “yea no I’m fine” I say shaking my head and giving him a slight smile in reply. “Cmon guys let’s just start the movie already” I say trying ti keep my mind off of how hot Chris looked right now.

~

Half way through the movie, I sat in between Chris and nick still laying my head on nick except now it’s on his shoulder. Nick had picked a horror movie, I was completely fine with it but Chris on the other hand, not so much. At every single jumps scare he flinched, and sometimes screamed.

Man I wonder if he would make those noises if I jerked him off?

More of the movie has passed and I got tired, “hey guys you can keep watching I’m just a bit tired I’m going to go lay down” they nodded their heads and I walked up the stairs to my room and closed the door behind me. I got undressed and put on a pair of tight shorts over my black lace underwear. I removed my bra and put on one of nicks shirts that he lets me borrow. Just then I hear a knock on my door.

“Hey sweetie make sure you guys don’t stay up too late tonight okay” my mom said coming in to give me a hug goodnight. “Yup, love you!” I say in response walking over to my bed.

As I was scrolling on my phone Chris barged in “I spilled my Pepsi all over me now I’m all sticky” you giggled in response seeing the huge puddle of Pepsi on his shirt. “You could just take a shower if you want” you said looking over to the bathroom door. “Thank you” Chris sarcastically put his hands together and looked at you before grabbing his change of clothes and walking into your bathroom.

Chris was already in the shower and you realized that you needed to brush your teeth. “Hey Chris! Can I come in for a sec?” You said knocking on the door a few times, “yup” he yelled back in response. You grabbed your toothbrush and started to apply the toothpaste when you heard a knock on the door of your bathroom “hey the boys are in the spare room right?” “Uhh, yes ya they are!” You say in response knowing Chris was naked behind you. “Okay! I’m coming in to grab something real quick!” You didn’t know what to do do you quickly got undressed and jumped in the shower with Chris.

“Hey! What th-“ you put your hand over Chris’s mouth. “Okay thanks sweetie! Goodnight!” Your mom closed the door and left, leaving you completely exposed Infront of Chris, and him exposed infront of you. “Holy fuck” Chris says staring you up and down. “Chris!” You shout at him and turn around. “Whattt? You are the one who jumped in here”

I mean he isn’t wrong, “shut it Christopher” you snapped back at him. As you were lifting your feet up to get out Chris’s hands attached to your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going” you could feel his rock hard dick on your back “anywhere but here” you say turning around to face him.

Just then Chris pulls you in for a passionate hungry kiss, his tongue immediately exploring your mouth. You start grinding forwards into his dick, getting groans from Chris.

“Now if we’re are going to do this you better be fucking quiet” Chris said grabbing your jaw, you let out a moan “I need words ma” “yes oh my god just fuck me already” you moaned out.

Quickly Chris turns you around and pushed your back down to create an arch, you could feel the arousal dripping from your pussy.

“You’re so wet for me” Chris said as he swiped his eager tip through your folds. You moaned at the feeling, “I told you to be fucking quiet” he pounded into giving you no time to adjust to his 8 inch dick.

He waisted no time, fucking into you harder and harder, very few moans escaped your mouth. “I’m gonna-“ you say trying not to scream at the pleasure. “Not yet ma, cum with me” he said slightly adjusting his position, now repetativly hitting your g-spot.

“Oh fuck Chris” you moaned, releasing all over his cock. “Oh shitt” he says right after you, releasing his own cum deep into your pussy. “What the fuck just happened” he said as he pulled out of you slowly, “I don’t fucking know”

~

You and Chris were laying in your bed, your head in his chest talking when you got a text, it was from Nick.

“Did yall just fuck”

You and Chris look at eachother and giggle. What’s gonna happen now?

[bellaxgiornata]

Distracted

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Matt has meditated around you many times before, and every time you've always had the urge to sit in his lap and see how he'd react. So, this time you do.

Warnings/tags: sweet fluff, hurt/comfort

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a short fic for a long time now because every time I see the scene of Matt meditating at the end of season 1, I just wonder how Matt would react to someone sitting in his lap and interrupting him. So I finally wrote this! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably

Carefully turning the page in your book, you tried to make as little noise as possible. Though to you, the soft crinkle of the paper between your fingertips sounded loud to your ears in comparison to the silence of the apartment. Sucking in a breath and holding it, your eyes darted up over the top of your book to where Matt was sitting on the rug just a few feet before you. Worried that you’d somehow disturbed him, you were grateful to see that he hadn’t even flinched at the noise. 

Gently expelling your breath, you found yourself yet again distracted by Matt’s form. Your eyes took in the sight of him once more, your book slowly lowering to your lap where you were curled up on the couch. He was dressed in just a pair of his black boxers, having returned home from his evening out as The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen about forty minutes prior. 

Upon arriving back home and descending the steps from the roof access, Matt had immediately begun stripping out of his black suit in the middle of the living room. Worrying over him when he’d let out a hiss of pain, you’d helped him push the coffee table off to the side of the living room as he'd done a few times before, claiming this spot was the best for him to focus in the apartment. He’d repeatedly assured you that he was alright, saying he only sustained a few ‘scratches’ while he was out–though to you they certainly resembled knife wounds. He promised a bit of time meditating would heal himself, telling you not to worry. And that’s exactly what he proceeded to do after he’d moved the coffee table, denying any medical attention from you beforehand.

This wasn’t the first time Matt had drawn his legs into himself and sat motionless in the living room in mediation in front of you. At first it took the pair of you some getting used to because your footsteps around the apartment had often made it difficult for him to drop into the right state of mind that he needed to achieve to heal his body. For the first few times you’d frustrated him with your constant noise, making it difficult for him to slip into that state. Though eventually he’d learned to tune out the sound of your body while you’d learned to find something quiet to do. Which usually meant that you tried to read a book nearby while really you spent most of the time staring at him half naked sitting on the floor instead, your mind switching back and forth between worrying about him and admiring the sight of him.

Which was what you were doing now. 

His back was perfectly straight, his hands resting on his knees with his palms upturned. Occasionally you noticed his fingers twitching faintly while you watched him. His face at first glance often looked peaceful and relaxed, but you’d come to learn that if you studied him long enough, you could spot the soft ticks that pulled the corner of his lips into a frown. Or you saw his eyebrows knitting together in repetition, as if he was in deep thought. Sometimes you’d see him wince like he was in pain, always leaving you wondering what he was experiencing. Even his shoulders sometimes tensed, drawing up towards his neck as if the weight of the city was finally taking its toll on him.

Eyes settling along his chest, you watched the slight expanse of it as he quietly inhaled in, holding the breath for a few seconds before you saw his muscles contract with the release of it. He looked deep in concentration now as he continued to rhythmically breathe in and out, seeming barely present in the apartment as he sat there. Which, considering he’d been meditating for a half an hour now, made perfect sense to you. He’d told you once before that his senses sort of dulled just a bit when he turned in on himself like this. And that was probably why you staring at him right now hadn’t remotely interrupted him, because you were certain any other time he’d have been very aware of it.

As your eyes lingered along his clearly defined abdominal muscles that were smeared with a bit of his own blood, you’d noticed he’d stopped bleeding a while ago. The blood on him now mostly appeared dry. His wounds looked a lot more like the scratches he’d dubbed them to be earlier–something that never ceased to amaze you. But as you continued to stare at Matt so still and quiet before you, you couldn’t help but be struck by the same urge you’d been hit by a hundred times before. 

Countless times when Matt came back from patrolling the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, settling on the floor in just his dark boxers as he meditated, you’d been struck by the same desire. Often you wanted to just toss your book to the side, rise up to your feet, and settle down in his lap. Partly because you wanted to see how the hell he’d react to you doing that, but partly because it was a genuine struggle to refrain from being near him. Whether it was because you wanted to comfort him or to just make sure that he was alright for yourself, you weren’t entirely sure. But you always felt compelled to just plop right down in that inviting space his legs always made when he crossed them together like they were now.

Bottom lip rolling back between your teeth, you were overcome with that internal confliction once more. Truthfully, you knew you probably shouldn’t interrupt him, which was why you never had all those times he’d done this before. Because he was doing this to heal himself after a night out fighting and being a legitimate hero–even if he blushed and denied it whenever you called him one. But at the same time, you knew he was near the end of his meditation. He never went on meditating for much longer than a half an hour, not for something he’d deem ‘so minor’ as the injuries he’d returned home with tonight. So, really, would you be interrupting him that much? 

Fingers drumming lightly along the cover of the book you’d long since forgotten, you gnawed your lip as you continued to stare at Matt sitting on the floor. Eyes snapping shut, you straightened on the couch, abruptly tossing your book onto the cushion beside you with a soft thump . You figured just this one time you’d see what happened if you did. Either Matt would come out of that state pissed and annoyed with you for bothering him, or maybe he wouldn’t. But either way, you could finally stop wondering what the hell would happen if you just did it.

Uncurling your legs on the couch, you lowered your bare feet to the floor one at a time. Attention fixed on Matt, you were honestly surprised he hadn’t even responded to you slowly sliding off the couch, because even you were aware of the groan from the leather as you moved. When his chest continued to rise and fall evenly, his fingers twitching lightly on his left hand, you took two steps until you were standing directly in front of him. The corner of his lip moved so minutely you almost didn’t catch it, but other than that, he still hadn’t reacted to your presence.

Now or never , you told yourself.

Carefully you turned sideways, trying not to accidentally bump his knee as you did. Then you began to gradually lower yourself down onto his lap, holding your breath and biting the inside of your cheek nervously. When you were halfway down, your hands darted forward and grabbed onto Matt’s broad shoulders to steady yourself just before your ass landed in his lap. 

Face mere inches from Matt’s now, you saw the way his eyes fluttered behind his closed eyelids before they abruptly flew open, his hazel eyes searching the space before himself as his brows knitted together in confusion. Seconds later he was focusing on you, his gaze landing around your nose. 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Shooting Matt a sheepish smile, you shrugged as you continued to hold onto his shoulders. “Honestly?” you answered. “I’m not sure. But I felt compelled to sit here.”

“On my lap?” he asked, brows raising up onto his forehead as his head tilted to the side. “While I was meditating?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

Matt’s head canted further to the side, his eyes pinching tight as he gazed back at you in disbelief. “You’ve been…eyeing my lap for a while now?” 

“Every single time you meditate, actually,” you told him. “I always sit over there,” you explained, gesturing your head back towards the couch, “unable to focus on my book because you’re always sitting here. Half naked.”

“And bleeding,” Matt pointed out.

“Right, well, you stopped doing that a bit ago it seems,” you countered.

The corner of Matt’s lips curled upwards into a grin and you relaxed in his lap, your hands releasing his shoulders as your arms wound around his neck. So he wasn’t going to yell at you apparently. That was good.

“Oh, so if I stop bleeding then it’s okay to interrupt my meditating?” he questioned, amusement in his tone.

"You seemed about done," you replied. "And I couldn't resist the temptation any longer."

"Mmm, temptation was it?" he asked, still grinning. 

His hands landed on your hips, carefully turning you in his lap until you were facing him fully, your legs now on either side of his hips. His grin had spread wider across his mouth as he focused on you, his hands sliding around to your lower back before he clasped them together, keeping you in place.

"So, do you usually just stare at me when I'm doing this?" Matt asked curiously. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"Pretty much," you admitted. "But I mean, you're usually barely wearing any clothes, Matt."

"I'm also usually bleeding," he reiterated. 

"Yes," you agreed, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. "Which always has me worrying if you'll be okay. I still don't understand how this works."

Matt's eyes closed as he nuzzled his nose against yours, your body further relaxing into his. His bare skin was warm against the front of you, the comforting heat of him enveloping you as you hugged him tighter. 

"Doesn't matter how it works," he whispered. "Just that it does. And that I'm just fine, sweetheart. Like I told you I'd be."

Shifting in his hold, you tilted your head up and gently pressed your lips to his forehead. Matt's arms squeezed around you just a bit tighter in response as your mouth lingered against his skin, just beside a mostly healed cut.

"I'm glad this was the response you had to me interrupting you," you whispered, leaning back to look at his face. 

Matt looked vastly more at peace now with his eyes closed than he did while he'd been meditating only minutes ago. For a moment you wondered why that was and if it could have anything to do with you. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the notion. 

"What'd you think would happen?" he whispered back.

You shrugged, your arms unwinding from around his neck. Gradually your hands slid up the length of his bare, broad shoulders, rising up both sides of his neck until you were cradling his bruised face between your palms. Gently your thumb stroked his skin, just beneath a dark bruise on his right cheekbone.

"Wasn't sure if you'd yell," you answered softly. "Be mad at me for interrupting you."

His eyes slowly opened again, his gaze focusing around your cheek now. He sent you a sweet smile, one that accentuated the single dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. 

"Sweetheart, I would never do that," he assured you. "Though I'd prefer if you want to cuddle in the future that you wait until I'm done. It’s just…less jarring."

"Duly noted," you murmured, resting your forehead back against his. "Sorry for bothering you. Was just…curious."

Matt chuckled, the warm sound filling the apartment and drawing a smile onto your lips. You shook with the movement from your place in his lap as his hands unclasped themselves, spreading wide over your back as he tugged you in even closer to the front of himself. 

"You always are," he teased. “But maybe I should get up. I’m probably getting blood all over your clothes.”

Hands sliding from his cheeks and back into his hair, your forehead still pressed to his, you lightly shook your head. As your fingers began gently carding through his dark strands, you heard Matt let out a contented sigh that only encouraged your fingers. Eventually your own eyelids dropped closed, relief at Matt yet again coming home to you safe tonight flooding your body.

“Can we just sit here for a bit longer?” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “I’m happy to stay here with you as long as you want.”

Biting back the smile on your face, you shifted in his hold yet again. This time you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his sweat and the material of the black shirt he'd worn out tonight. Matt leaned forward, pressing his own face into the bit of bare skin along your shoulder that was peeking out from beneath your shirt. His lips lightly brushed your skin in a gentle kiss, the sensation drawing forth a tingling warmth within you. 

Releasing a soft sigh, you felt a sense of ease overtake you. You could sit like this all night with him if he’d let you, just content that he was home safe.

[lost-inthedream]

I really enjoy your writing. Can you please write sf9 members on how willing they would be to eat you out with a blurb for the reason?? Thanks so much

Hello, honey. Thank you!

SF9 willingness to eat you out

nsfw content under the cut

Youngbin: 95% willing. Mostly as foreplay or quickies when you all do not go all the way. Our leader is a pleaser. He usually does not even tell you he is going to give head. This is an inherent part of sex.

"Baby what's going on with you today?" your boyfriend asks amid genuine laughter. You had just locked both of you in the toilet while your friends fought over which game to play first on your game night.

"They are all giving on my nerves and you look gorgeous in this black t-shirt and black all stars" you confessed playing with the hem of his garment. He looked like a teenager, bold and passionate.

"Fuck, Y/n. The things you make me do" He immediately dropped on his knees and pulled your bottoms down with his move. He wanted to be the sexier he could for you and if you said he looked good he had to gift you with the joy of eating you with such an outfit.

Inseong: 90% willing. Foreplay and between rounds are his favorite moments to taste you. He genuinely loves pussy but sometimes he gets too eager to fuck you.

He was still moaning out of pleasure and exhaustion when he pulled his length out and settled your folds close to his face. "Seong what are you doing?" you managed to ask. Your mind was still blurry from the orgasm but he should be embracing you, not sneaking down on your body.

"I didn't give your head tonight" he explained before sticking his mouth open on your core. His tongue was warm and smooth but you were so sensitive that your legs started trembling in no time.

Jaeyoon: 99% willing. I did not want to say 100 for ranking purposes. Giving head is mandatory to him. I mean, that is the most effective way to achieve multiple orgasms in a day. It does not matter when.

You enjoyed feeling like that: desired, adored. You sat on his face like a goddess. His hands firmly held your thighs and you threw your head back to let your paints echo inside the living room.

Once Jaeyoon starts to work you up there was nothing that could stop him, except a safe word or his satiation. He loves to feel you squirm, and loves when you seem desperate because he is too much to handle.

Your hands reached his stomach behind you so you could stay half sitting. There was too much to process: his abdomen stiffening, that short circuit crossing your entire body, your moans getting more and more out f control.

Dawon: 99% willing. Going down on you is something that gives him joy. We know he is pretty energetic but pulling his tongue into action somehow gives him inner peace. Foreplay, after sex or a standing-alone oral, it does not matter at all.

Sometimes you wish you could contemplate Sanghyuk more attentively. That slow afternoon was your chance, your man seemed very oblivious while he worked you up between your legs. His tongue did not chase your orgasm aggressively as usual and you were able to massage his scalp despite experiencing shudders from time to time.

"Good boy" your voice cracked. He let you know he had heard that by a loose squeeze on your thigh without stopping his smooth tongue motions.

Zuho: 80% willing. This is not a bad thing. I needed to express the uniqueness of his dom behavior somehow. He loves to eat you out but he also loves to hear you cry out your wish to be eaten out.

He did it again: you were sitting fully naked on his lap. He still had that impeccable, damn suit on, the tie just a bit slack. Your breasts were both so warm, collected by his hands and your tongues had a very close conversation. You felt when one of his hands slipped down your body, however, you had no force to open your eyes. Your legs were already open so he simply cupped your pussy settling his middle finger inside.

You jerked so intensely that your lips disconnected. "fuck... " you hissed to his surprise. "Oh, I thought I was the only dirty-mouthed here. I like it though. Will you curse more if I get on my knees and eat this wet pussy?"

"Is that what you want?" you certified covering his hand with yours as his finger curled deep inside you.

"Yes, get nasty for me"

Rowoon: 100% willing. The thing is: Seokwoo has an oral fixation and I won't ever shut up about it.

You rested your hand on Rowoon's thighs as he drove both of you home. That was starting to become the norm. His hands squeeze your thighs when you all are in front of the TV, your hand lays on his when he drives. You smiled peacefully because that sounded like the best life.

Rowoon stopped the car by the traffic lights and guided your hand to his mouth so he could leisurely suck on your fingers. That naive smile got vanished from your face. "Baby, what are y-?"

"Honestly, I wanna have you now but we still have 2 km to go so... yeah"

You nodded putting a now mischievous smirk on your face. You knew he was eager to glue his face onto your core. He probably would do so in the garage after parking.

Yoo Taeyang: 79% willing. Okay, Taeyang is still a prince. Don't get me wrong. But he does not usually stay an eternity between your legs. He is an impatient lamb and he prefers sliding his length inside you. Mostly gives head as a foreplay

Your mind was far away from the bedroom, maybe in another galaxy, lost in your own moans. Yet, all those white lights were filled with Taeyang's muffled pants. He was moaning against your core as if it was about him. "Taeyang, what a fuck?" you cried out.

He tightened his grip around your thighs in response maintaining them wide open. It was too much for you but he was equally struggling since his hips had been rolling against the mattress the whole time.

Once you come undone and emphatically pushed his head away, he moved his hand to his shaft and jerked off until his own relief. His Head propped on your inner thigh as you stroked his hair.

Hwiyoung: 95% willing He loves when you sit in his face. It is probably his favorite position but sometimes he is in the mood to just kiss you and move his hips onto yours. Sometimes he prefers you to sit on his lap instead.

"Can we do it the other way around today, honey?" he asked when you were ready to straddle his face.

"Oh, sorry, how exactly?" you questioned stopping in your tracks.

He took your hand and showed you by turning you around "like this". That way you could ride his face in reverse and sprawl your palms on his abdomen. You could even reach his dick if you decided.

In any case, by the pace he kept stimulating your clit, that was impossible to pump his length properly. He was a beast when it comes to eating you. You ended up miserably lying on top of him, his hard dick loosen in your fist.

Chani: 75% when he gives oral he really gives oral. He could reside down there, I mean it. I just think it wouldn't be healthy to do it every time. Also, you both know how much you like having his dick too.

He chuckled at how lazy you got after the oral he gave you. "Such a wasted doll" he mocked you.

"You ended me, I swear." you admitted throwing your arm over your face. You were devasted, there was not even a pillow under your head.

"I didn't say so" he bit his lip caressing the skin of your thigh, then your low stomach and the outside of your pussy. He was all intent on giving you one more climax and the thought alone had you extra tired. That was amazing. You said his name in disbelief.

Soon he was licking your nub all over again, your feet pressing his back way too heavily but you could not control your strength and he did not give a shit.

---

Author note: Omg did I go too hard in these headcanons??

[idolatrybarbie]

lust for a vampire

for my fifty follower celebration! @heareball asked: max phillips and prompt no. nine— "you look so pretty like this." title from the song. i am so sorry this ended up being like, gross. and long. thanks to @wannab-urs for the reassurance and beta. if you recognize the horror movies referenced in this fic i love you.

rating & word count: 4k words | explicit

warnings: very briefly mentioned drug use, sexually explicit content, more plot than porn, dubious consent question mark, supernatural stalking, blood and its consumption, pussy slapping (like once), orgasm denial, spit play ???, background sex work/stripping, physical altercation (not with max), vaginal fingering, pet names (sweet thing, honey, sweetheart), i changed how vampires work from bsb because my writing, my rules.

It’s late now. Another thirty minutes and you get to flick the switch to the overhead lights—on and off, on and off again. Closing time. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Then there’s bar cleanup, a little sweeping, some heavy mopping. Assuring that no one’s upchucked on the stone bust of sexy Dracula out front, or making one of your coworkers clean it up if they have.

You can’t say that this is exactly what you dreamed of doing for the rest of your life: living in the slimy suburbs of a tourist trap border city, doubling as a bartender and host at a vampire-themed titty bar. Whatever. You suppose there are worse things. The patrons are usually so distracted by the girls that are actually naked that they leave you alone. The most you get is a grunted drink order, sometimes with an accompanying snort if the man ordering has just spent a little time in a bathroom stall with a bump of Big C.

Usually. Tonight, there’s a man at the corner of the bar who seems to be paying you attention in particular. He’s eyeing you more than Kali, the dancer spinning half nude on the main stage pole as crimson-coloured corn syrup slides down her body in waves.

You noticed him right away. He looks nothing like your regulars; usually sex and death goth chicks and their annoying boyfriends, or black metal listeners who could use a good shower…or three. No, the man at the bar is unlike anyone you’ve ever seen walk in here before. A tailored suit jacket strains slightly against the breadth of his shoulders, waistcoat unbuttoned as he sits sipping at his third whiskey and coke. His hair is slicked yet stylishly tousled. The glint in his eye tells you that he knows he looks good. Cocky, then.

Mercy saunters up to him with a sway in her hips, skin as pale as the moon outside. She bleaches her hair to white twice a month, keeping it shorter to handle the damage. The woman is a vampire in the flesh if you’ve ever seen one, clad in crimson lace as she lays a hand of finely manicured claws on his shoulder.

Mercy leans into him, whispering something softly into his ear. At first, you can’t gauge his reaction, watching the exchange out of the corner of your eye. You’re torn between him shaking his head and telling her to get lost, or happily obliging to let her take him for a private show.

He seems to be considering it, too, eventually nodding with a bright smile. You can’t look at his mouth as he does, teeth too bright for the low light. It looks like they almost glow. He and Mercy disappear to the back, finding one of the empty private rooms to take their business. You finish polishing another rack of glasses before a customer flags you down for a refill.

You don’t see the man when you announce last call, or again before you’re locking the doors behind the last couple of stragglers. The girls are in the back already, taking off their makeup and packing up to head home. You give the bar another good wipe down as Martin and Phil take the dirty glasses to the back. When the bar is adequate in its cleanliness, you get started on spraying down the tables. Louis is mopping both stages, the sudsy water of the industrial pale turning black from the sweat, spit, and fake blood.

Closing at three o’clock, the lot of you get out at almost four-thirty in the morning. The light of dawn hasn’t quite hit the horizon, the moon missing from the sky behind clouds of city smog. The streets are truly dark. You navigate through the alley behind the club, passing a twin pair of Dumpsters.

It must have rained while you were inside, the sidewalk wet with remnants of it. Puddles pool in the corners of the road. If you were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, this scene might be a little concerning. This is the part where the killer emerges, silent but deadly behind the wisp of a girl as she walks the streets alone. The situation isn’t exactly safe, per say. Definitely not ideal. It isn’t your fault that the closest lot with free parking is four blocks away.

You are no wisp, and this is no monster movie. This is a Saturday night like any other.

Or, well, it’s supposed to be. Turning another corner, you come upon Mercy standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Still clad in her outfit from the club, she notices you almost immediately. You stop yourself, processing what it is you’re looking at. Darkness stains half of her silky lingerie, and in this lighting you can’t tell if it’s real or fake.

Mercy sways where she stands, eyes narrowing the slightest before her face softens, an agreeable smile pulling at her lips. Her six inch heels clop against the concrete as she closes the short distance between the two of you.

“Mercy?” you ask. “What are you doing out here?”

“Hey baby,” she drawls.

“Is everything okay?”

“Much better now,” Mercy smiles. Her teeth are stained red. All of this blood…is it hers?

“What happened? Did someone do something to you?”

Your pulse is racing as you dart your eyes around the street. It remains empty spare you and her, your eyes telling you that the coast is clear. Still, the situation feels off. Mercy is still smiling as your stomach roils in your gut. When she sways a little too far to the right, you grab ahold of her arm, looping it around your shoulder.

“We’ll get you back to my car, okay?” you ask.

Mercy takes a couple of steps with you before the axis of the world changes. No, wait. Only the axis of you. The dancer has you pressed to the hard, clumpy brick of a building. Her arm sits over your neck, putting pressure on your windpipe. You claw at her arm, scratching at the milky white of her skin. It’s no use. Mercy is putting those self-defense classes to good use trying to choke you out right now.

She moves in closer to your face, nosing at your jaw down to the side of your neck.

“Smells so good. I just need…a little bit,” Mercy breathes into your ear.

“No,” is the only word you can press past your lips.

“It’ll only hurt a little, honey,” she continues, voice dripping with sweetness. It’s the one she uses with clients, a tone that’s pulled thousands of dollars of cash from the eager wallets of horny bastards. “Then, it’s going to feel so, so good.”

As your vision speckles, Mercy licks a long, wet stripe along the skin of your neck. Something about the action sets you off; the pre-emptive finality of it activates your survival instincts as you bring a knee up to her gut. The blow winds her. Mercy pushes herself off of you to clutch at her stomach, a frustrated growl ripping itself from her throat.

“That wasn’t very nice, bitch,” she mutters.

You take off down the street, praying to whatever god that Mercy’s newfound kink for street violence hasn’t instilled in her the ability to sprint in Pleasers. You’re so close now; the lot where your Chevy sedan has been parked and baking since dinnertime is finally in sight. Air isn’t quite reaching your lungs as fast as you need it, the world around you hazey as you continue to run to your car.

Blinking, the parking lot is gone when you open your eyes again. Someone’s dropped a black curtain in front of you—or so you think. When you collide chest-first with a man on the sidewalk, you recontextualize. You were staring at the shoulder of his suit jacket.

Another moment passes as you realize just who the man is. Three-piece, from the club. The man who sat at the bar making eyes at you all night long. Tonight must be a cosmic punishment.

“Hey, whoa there.” He holds his hands out, almost in surrender. Concern blankets his features as he looks you over. “Everything alright?”

“Look, I really don’t have time—”

You stop yourself, sucking in frantic gasps of air. Grabbing onto the nearest wall, you brace yourself as you cough and choke on oxygen. The stranger watches you, then glances down the street the way you came. It seems his critical thinking skills have kicked in.

“Is someone following you?” he asks.

“My crazy fucking coworker…” you start, “has taken up casual street assault.”

“Let’s get you out of here, alright? Is your car nearby?”

You nod, pushing yourself up and off the wall. He guides you across the street to your car, standing with you as you sift through your bag for the keys. When you find them, you turn to the man.

“Well, thanks.”

“Not a problem at all,” he says. Slowly, he turns to walk away. Then you remember how many drinks you served him earlier.

“Hey, do you want a ride home?” Bad idea. Bad idea.

The man turns around and faces you once again. “I’m alright,” he says.

Three whiskey and cokes, a couple of shots, and whatever might have gone out to his private room that you hadn’t been able to keep track of.

“It’s not a hassle,” you shrug.

This is better. You would rather drive to a stranger’s house at dawn and drop him off than have him pass out somewhere in the street—or worse, let him try to drive home and end up hurting someone.

You tell him your name. He says his name is Max. The two of you get into your car. Buckling your seatbelt, you ask, “Maxwell? Or Maximillion?”

“Just Max.”

You hum. “Straight to the point.”

“I try to be.”

The car starts with minimal fanfare and you pull out of the parking lot. You scan the streets for any sign of Mercy, but come up empty in your search. You’re too tired to think about her or the odd encounter anymore.

“So what draws someone like you to a place like that?” you ask, referring to the club.

“Someone like me?” Max asks.

“Come on, look at you. The suit? You look like you’re fresh off the trading floor.”

“Not quite. Mergers and acquisitions,” he says.

“Point still stands,” you say. “What brings you to a gothic striptease?”

Max shrugs beside you. “Reminds me of college, I guess.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your mouth. The strange answer does nothing to satisfy your lingering curiosity, but you focus back on the road. Max tells you when to turn and which streets to take, leading you out of town. Twenty minutes into your drive, you realize he’s guiding you past the university and over the connecting bridge.

“Lewiston?” you ask, glancing at him. Max is already staring at you, eyes softening when they meet yours.

“It’s quaint,” he says.

And he’s right. When you pull into the driveway of his house, you momentarily wonder if you’ve arrived at the wrong address. Max doesn’t share the hesitance, getting out of the car and rounding the front to meet you at the driver’s side window. You roll it down, letting him duck his head in the slightest bit.

Max leans his forearms against the opening in the door. “Thanks for the ride,” he says. And then he’s offering to let you come inside, grab a coffee before you hit the road again.

You want to say no—should, considering how late (early?) it is. Glancing at the clock on your dashboard, you look up at Max to politely decline, but can’t summon the words. There’s something about his eyes, dark and wondrous as they stare. He doesn’t blink, waiting on your answer.

“A coffee couldn’t hurt,” you say. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

Max steps away from the door to let you get out. It closes with a solid thud, and then he’s leading you up to the front steps of his home. He doesn’t reach for any keys, simply turning the knob and pushing the door open. You barely make note of this, too distracted by his presence and the walls of his front hallway.

Everything in here seems perfect, the cutesy makings of a home somewhere in the countryside. And yet that’s what makes it totally out of place; the floral wallpaper, the simple wooden frames holding photos of faces you can’t quite parse in the dark. Maybe you’re letting outdated stereotypes get the better of you, but someone like Max would usually be living in a sleek, stainless steel cavern—not Little House on the Prairie.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “This isn’t my usual decor. It was my grandmother’s house.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Sorry for your loss.”

Max shakes his head, giving you a dismissive wave as he turns left and mills about a small yellow kitchen. “She was old. It happens. I’m in town to settle up some things, see what ends up happening to this place.”

“So you aren’t from around here,” you say.

Back turned to you, the laugh he lets out shakes his broad shoulders the slightest bit. “You caught me,” Max says.

“Between condolences and meetings with lawyers, you find solace watching naked women cover themselves in blood?”

He’s facing you again. The coffee has started to brew, steam rising from the machine as the warm smell of arabica greets your nose.

“Something like that,” he says. “What about you? The bartending life all that they say it is?”

“It’s alright.” You lean in the doorway, never quite stepping into the kitchen. “Not as terrible as other places.”

“But you aren’t fulfilled,” Max says for you.

“Things could be worse.”

“Hm,” is all he gives you.

Max gets two mugs out of his grandmother’s cupboards, filling them both when the coffee is done a few silent minutes later. He closes the distance between the counter and where you stand to hand one to you. Then he sits at the short table wedged in against the wall. The implication to sit down with him settles over you, but Max doesn’t say anything.

He’s waiting because he knows that you will. Deep down, you know it too.

When you cross over the threshold into the room, the world shifts. Only slightly, barely noticeable with the porcelain burning in your palm. You take the seat across from Max and set the coffee down.

“How is it?” he asks, nodding at it.

“Good,” you say. Neither of you have taken a sip of the stuff.

Max’s hand is on the table, resting on a doily next to his own mug. He asks, “What’s got a woman like you walking the streets at night all alone?”

“Free parking,” you say.

His lip twitches. “That all?”

“Fourteen dollars a night adds up when you work six times a week.”

“No, I mean,” Max says, “that can’t be it.”

His hand is closer to your own now. You aren’t sure when it moved. The proximity of his skin to yours sets your pulse racing again; instinct kicking in once more.

“Small town, lots of tourists. People from all over the world in and out of there all the time. You’re sure to come across some scary characters.”

“When you’re the one plying ‘em with alcohol, it’s a little different. Don’t wanna bite the hand that feeds,” you say. “I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Max agrees. He uses his pointer finger to draw a line along the length of your thumb. His touch is ice cold. The contact makes you shiver.

“I don’t scare easy,” you continue, heart in your throat now.

“Is that right?” he asks.

You can’t tell what he means by that. You move to grab the mug before you, finally taking a sip to avoid answering the question. The brew is acrid. This close to your nose, it smells like lemons and bleach. Frowning into the mug, you look up at Max again. His chair sits empty.

Your brain can’t catch up with your eyes. Suddenly, something is pressing into your back, and for the second time tonight you find yourself pinned to an unfamiliar wall. Max is gentler than Mercy, a single hand at your shoulder to press you against the peeling paint behind you.

You open your mouth to say something, anything at all. Please don’t kill me. The coffee’s fine, I swear.

“Aw, don’t be scared,” he says, low and close to your ear. The words rumble in his chest, something like a purr against your ribcage.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whisper.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Max says. “You look so pretty like this.”

“What do you want?”

“What do you want?” he asks, turning the question around. “I’ve watched you… I know you, sweetheart. This isn’t the life you want, is it? Certainly not the life you deserve.”

Despite yourself, you start to lean a little into his body; aching cold against your broiling warmth. Your neck and forehead are damp with sweat.

“I can give you all you’ve ever wanted,” Max says. “Remake you and your life. Never grow old. Never die.”

It’s fun to be a vampire. Yeah, you’ve seen that nineties movie too.

All night, you’ve been missing the forest for the trees. Mercy and her frantic, violent behaviour; the stains that soaked her lingerie. Max sidling up to the bar again, out of place and yet perfectly suited to the grimey, bleeding environment.

“Max…” you breathe.

“All you have to do is say yes,” he says.

This man is overwhelming, breathing down your neck and nosing along your jaw. He’s not pinning you to the wall anymore. You’ve elected to stay here. Thoughts are hard to manage, everything covered in a thick fog.  His presence is intoxicating, and you have a feeling that’s on purpose.

All girls don’t want bad boys, and yet you feel yourself caving. An answer sits on the tip of your tongue. If only you could spit out the goddamn words…

“Please,” you say.

“And she’s polite with it too. Sweet thing.” Max’s cool thumb drags across your cheek. “What do you need?”

“Anything. Everything, please.”

God, this is pathetic. In your right mind this scene would make you sick, but at this moment you can’t help it. You are a wound all over, easing into Max’s soothing touch. He can fix this—fix you, needy and wanting in this lovely little home. It’s all you want; all you’ve ever wanted.

Max kisses your neck once, twice before he pulls away. His right hand wraps around your ribs to support you, the other trailing up and over your stomach, your sternum. He splays his fingers across your clavicle, feeling the heat of your skin. His touch is bleak, sapping the warmth from your body.

You can’t tell if it’s his voice or your own echoing in your ears. What draws someone like you to a place like this? But what kind of place is this exactly?

Max shreds the front of your shirt, the sparkly white logo of the strip club torn in two as the fabric hangs limply off your body. With no bra underneath, he has free access to fondle your breast. His cold hand over your heart makes you shiver.

Kissing down your chest, he still holds your side, even as he crouches in front of you. Through bleary eyes, you watch as Max kisses at either of your hips before making quick work of the button and zipper of your jeans. You pull at his hair, needing him up here. Truly, you need him everywhere; to consume you and warp you beyond identification. Go ahead and make you something new.

“Max, please,” you whine.

He licks a line from your stomach to the dip between your neck and collarbones, cold air catching at the saliva in the absence of his tongue. Then he’s face to face with you again, smiling. Max slides his hands into your pants and tuts lightly. You’re wet, and he can feel it. Embarassment floods you, making you squirm.

“Oh honey, relax. It’s only natural,” he says.

Max rubs at you over your panties, lightly grazing your clit through the fabric with each pass. It’s gentle. It isn’t what you need.

You grip his arm harshly. No matter what he is, it hurts. A little bit of something flashes in his eyes, coming and going too quickly. Something you need.

“Give me what I want,” you demand softly.

“This what you want, huh?” Max asks.

He shoves his fingers past the band of your panties, the pads of his fingers brushing hard against you. Two of them find your clit, circling over it deliciously. Still, this isn’t enough. You whimper with a shake of your head.

“Oh no, sweetheart. That’s not it,” Max says knowingly. He’s teasing and it’s killing you. “Want these, huh?”

As he asks, Max bares his teeth at you; long and intimidating, the enamel looks sharp and pointy. Seeing them has you canting your hips up into his hand.

“Bite me,” you gasp. “Bite me, bite me, please.”

His fingers on you move impossibly faster, hedging you towards the edge at a lightning pace. Heat spreads from between your thighs outwards, creeping up through your stomach, your arms, your fingertips. It’s a struggle to keep yourself upright against the wall.

Max returns his mouth to your neck, sucking and licking at your skin. You close your eyes and wait, expecting the heavy hammer of pain to fall on you soon, orgasm just out of reach. Instead, he tugs your underwear down a little further in your jeans, cupping you in his hand. He slaps your cunt once, drawing your attention back to him.

“Look,” Max says. “Pay attention now.”

Then he continues his ministrations, fingers on your clit again. You open your mouth to groan. It’s then that he bites you, catching you off guard. The pain is searing, so hot that it’s cold underneath your skin. You can feel the length of his fangs where they dig deep into flesh.

Blood rushes from the punctures immediately, trailing in a thick stream down your body. Max gulps as he drinks it down, hand still working you over. Your orgasm drowns you, an unforgiving wave. It hurts, stomach clenching at the sensations that wrack your body. There is no air left in your lungs, all of it punched out by the pain. He’s holding your head underwater.

What kind of place is this? A very, very bad one. Strawberry Shortcake’s den of iniquity. You’re bleeding out surrounded by dainty floral wallpaper and a man—monster—that’s going to eat you alive.

You slump between the wall and Max’s chest as he withdraws his teeth from you. Blood pumps out of your carotid artery in a steady pace, another gush with each beat of your heart. It pools on the white tile of the floor.  Everything is red and slippery.

Max bites into the flesh of his wrist and brings it to your lips. With the little strength you have left, you grip his arm and hold it against your mouth. You drink what slowly flows from his veins. Max’s blood is cold against your tongue, going down like a shot of cheap tequila.

“There you go, sweetheart. That feel better, hm?” he asks.

When he’s sure you’ve swallowed, he tips your head back gingerly. His face over yours, Max purses his lips. He lets spit gather between them before pushing it out of his mouth, pulling yours open with his thumb to catch it. The saliva, mixed with your own blood, slides coolly against your tongue.

You’re dying, probably. Maybe you’re already dead. Doesn’t matter, really.

Max is here. He has remade you.

[beaker1636]

J for JOI - Chris

AN: Thank you to @darkhallcorner for helping me figure out what direction I should take with this because I did struggle with it a little bit!

Hope ya'll enjoy where I took this and I decided I do not like what I planned for K so if anyone wants to suggest anything for K please let me know!

“Thank you for the surprise get together for my birthday Mia,” Chris says, coming up behind you where you are working on some dishes to wrap his arms around you from behind.  You relax and lean back into the touch for a moment, enjoying the moment and comfort of having him close to you.

“You’re welcome, you deserve it.  It was nice having everyone together, I know it's only been a week since we last were but it is nice,” you answer truthfully as you continue your work.

Chris continues to stand there with his arms wrapped around your back as you finish up the dishes, him wanting that closeness with you.  He isn’t the most cuddly a majority of the time but sometimes he revels in your touch and being close to you.  

When you finish you turn around to face him, wrapping your own arms around his torso as you return the embrace.  If this is what he wants right now you can absolutely give it to him.  He starts to slowly rock the two of you slightly, an act he knows you always enjoy.  

“You are way too sweet to me Mia, I’m not sure what I did to deserve you but I appreciate it everyday.  You do so much for me and everyone else, I just want you to know that I love you and appreciate you,” Chris says softly, continuing to hold you close to him as you both rock softly in the silence.

“You deserve it and more baby, happy birthday. I will continue to show you how much you deserve happiness for years to come,” you answer, moving slightly so you can look at his face as you talk. “Now, we will see if you still love me after what we are going to do.”

“What do you mean… let me guess our letter?” He asks, eyes tracing your face to try and read what you are thinking.

“Yup, and I get to try and take charge tonight.  Think you can handle things changing?” You tease, knowing that his usual dominant personality will be screaming inside when you even try.

“Why… what is it?” He asks you, his voice a little lower than it was before, watching you closely as you start to walk away from him.

“Go strip and sit on the bed for me, I will tell you in a second Chris.” You say, before walking out of the room before he can try to stop you.  Knowing he would easily be able to talk you out of this and take charge from you before you do a single thing to him if you let him.  You want to treat him tonight, make him enjoy himself and not have to do any of the work.

You smile when you hear him walk away from you, heading towards your bedroom with a sigh.  You give him another couple minutes before you follow him to see if he listened to you.

You step inside of your bedroom and smile when you see that he did listen, he is currently sitting on the bed naked, already half hard at the thoughts of what is to come.  He just hopes it is something that will be enjoyable for the both of you and not piss him off too much.

“Okay, I will tell you baby.  J is for Jack Off Instruction, so I can tell you what to do to yourself but I can’t touch you,” you say, sitting in a chair across from the bed that you placed there earlier for this reason.

“Of course Rick would be the one to come up with shit like this.  Why can’t I do it to you, what makes you think you can tell me what to do?” He asks you, glaring over at you like you have done something wrong when all you have done is tell him what his letter is.

“Because I wanted to treat you for your birthday, try something different for once,” you say softly, glancing down.  You make your way to him and run your hand across his bare shoulders, leaving a teasing touch to mess with him a little bit. “Come on, won’t it be fun to let me have my way with you for once?”

“Do you really think I am going to let you do this? That you can just boss me around?” He asks, glaring at you as his hands reach out to sit on your clothed hips in front of him.

You don’t answer, rather just leave a couple of kisses from his collarbone towards his ear, nipping at the soft spot under his ear that he loves having your lips on. “Please let me try, if you hate this then we can stop. Promise,” you whisper in his ear, feeling him shift a little at your touches.

“No, why would I agree to this.  We both know I’m in,” he lets out a breathy groan when your hand lightly runs along his thighs.  “Fine, we can try this.” 

He finally caves when your teasing gets to him, you knew that if you worked him up a bit that he would eventually agree to this, let you attempt something new.  

“So how exactly are we doing this then baby?” he asks you, looking at you as you slowly step away from him slightly.  Upset that your touch is gone.

“Well, you just do exactly what I say.  I walk you through how I want you to touch yourself and walk you through it is what I was told,” you say softly, your eyes meeting his. “Can I start now or are you going to keep fighting me, make us lose and then be unable to do anything for a week?” 

“Okay, fine. You can start,” he says, his dark eyes watching your every move.

“Take your fingers and slowly draw them up your thighs, towards your cock like I do with my hands when I tease you before I blow you,” you say, watching him closely as he listens and begins to tease himself the way you asked, following your words to a T while staring you down.  Loving that he can tell you watching him is getting to you a little bit.

“Trail them up your chest, you can use your full hands now, make yourself crave your touch like it does when it is me.  Lightly, just like I do to you as you slowly work your way towards your nipples.  Do you want to touch them like you enjoy when I do?” You ask him.

He nods, not answering you as you move sitting in the bed behind him, leaning up against the headboard and moving so your legs are open.

“You can lay down against me baby, make yourself comfortable quick,” you say softly, letting him lean into your chest as he waits for your next instruction.

“Okay, you can lightly pinch your nipples like I do, fuck are you imagining I am doing that to you how you enjoy Chris?” You watch as he does it, throwing his head back into you a little bit at the feeling.

“Okay, I want you to slowly trace your hand down your chest and across your inner thigh, leave more light touches for me.  Do you think that you are ready to touch yourself? I don’t think you are baby, do you want to cum for me?”

“Fuck yes, please?” he asks you, making you flustered for a moment.  

You aren’t sure if he is just lost in the moment or is trying to fuck with you a little bit but you sure as hell didn’t expect him to actually answer you, let alone ask you to let him keep going.

“Fine, take your fingers and wipe your pre cum all over the head of your cock, I want you to get yourself wet baby.  Shit, are you enjoying this? Loving making yourself feel good for me?” 

You watch as his hand wraps around just the head, spreading his own precum along his head for you just like you asked.  He no longer is trying to look back at you like he was at first, now he is focused on what he is doing, what he is feeling from his own touch.  How the hell are you making him touching himself feel this good, like you are doing it when you aren’t touching him at all.

“Yes Mia, feels good,” he groans softly, answering your question.

“Take your hand and wrap your fingers around yourself.  Not too tight, I want you leaving really light touches along yourself, want you to make yourself ache with need for more,” you lower your voice, now whispering your commands in his ear as he continues doing what you asked of him.

Honestly, this is turning you on a lot more than you expected it to. You didn’t expect him to listen to you like he is, for him to enjoy it anywhere near as much as he is.  He is falling apart with his need to cum from just your words and commands… you are starting to see why he enjoys taking charge so much.  Knowing that you are making him this way is a major turn on, you may be taking a shower to take care of yourself once he is done.

“Slowly move your hand for me, up and down.  Again, keep going, softly and slowly for me. Fuck, Chris, I love watching you do this to yourself, watching you grow desperate from my words,” you groan softly, your resolve slowly breaking as you continue.

“Okay, keep rubbing yourself but take your thumb on the head, run around your fingers along your tip, stop rubbing, I think you’ve had enough of that for now,” you say softly.

Chris lets out a whine, catching both of you completely off guard, him glaring up towards you after he realized the sound he let out.  Part of him hates himself right now, hates the fact that he is enjoying this so much.  Why is this so hot, you just sitting and watching him jack off, telling him what to do? He shouldn’t be enjoying this but for some reason he is, and it is annoying him.

“You good baby?” You ask with a giggle.

“Don’t press your fucking luck,” he spits, his irritation at your teasing making you laugh.  You are definitely enjoying that for once you have the power over him.

“I guess I will let you run your hand up and down your cock again, you can tighten your grip enough that you can feel every time you twitch against yourself.  You can go faster now too, bringing yourself closer to the  edge, but not over, I don’t think it is time for you to cum yet.”

You watch him start to stroke himself again, getting distracted by watching him that you almost forget to keep instructing him.  If it wasn’t for his noises you probably wouldn’t have remembered that you are supposed to be leading him, not just watching.

“Fuck please Mia, shit,” he groans, throwing his head back as he pulls himself closer to the edge.

“Fuck that was hot,” you whisper to yourself.

“You can grip yourself nice and tight now, can go a little faster for me.  Squeeze your tip so that every bit of your precum can drip down your cock for me.  Shit, are you ready? If you can hold on a few more seconds I will let you have exactly what you need baby okay?” you ask, feeling him nod against your chest.

“Okay 5, 4, do you want to cum for me? 3, 2, oh should we stop again?” you ask.

“Fuck no, please, I’m so close,” he whines, suddenly very aware of the fact that he doesn’t think he could stop it this time if you try to make him again.

“Fine, 2….. 1,” you finish your countdown.

He moans, cumming in several spurts that fall on his lower stomach as he finally cums.  Taking several deep breaths as he comes down from the high that he reached, his orgasm stronger than he thinks he ever has before.  

You grab the towel off the bed that you set there earlier, helping him clean himself off as he watches you.  He isn’t used to you being the one taking care of him but this is honestly kind of nice.  He takes comfort in your actions before he rolls off your lap, turning to glare up at you.

“Your turn, and don’t think I’m going to forget that you edged me and made me stop a couple times,” he says with a smirk as he moves to grab some of your toys that he got for you out of the drawer.

He may have let you have the upper hand for a little bit but that is long gone now, and he plans to take his own revenge on you.  It is going to be a long night.

[dabisangle]

Scars✨

summary: Dabi: "what do you think about them. doll?" Warnings => mentioning of scars, fingering, sex, mention that Dabi cries blood, dabi being naked

Feauturing => Dabi X fem!reader.

Rated: +18 MDNI word count: 1.2K

something before you start to read: Hello dear reader this is the first thing I am uploading. So let me know if you have a suggestion or something.

________♥________

Dabi: "What do you think about them?"

You rolled your eyes as you knew he is going to start again.

y/n: "what are you talking about Dabi?"

" I am talking about my scars" He said as he opened his arms mentioning his scars with his light blue eyes.

you were so sick and tired of hearing him talking about his scars. You had always told him that you really love every square inch of his body and he looks just perfect. "Dabi I really love your scars with all of my heart and I am telling you that all the time"

He looked at you with a tired look and gives out a big sigh. He knew what you just had told him. But there was something else bothering him and breaking him all apart.

you got closer as you put a hand on his. He was sitting on the bed in your sharing room half naked because his scars had started to burn again. "Is that something with your metion?"

He looked at you once more with his tired eyes. "Drop it. I really shouldn,t brought this up."

His voice was starting to shake as he laied on the bed cover himself with a blanket nearby. He would never cry. It was hard for him to cry. Other would always tell him that he doesn't have emotions. He would never show up his tears. And he would never tell you so. But you could feel when his heart started to fell apart. He would always cry inside. and you completely knew the signs. The ways that his voice starts to shake. The way he askes to be alone. The way that his body starts to get colder than usuall.

You laied down in front of him. Hugging him softly so that you don't hurt him, from behind without saying anything for almost 10mins.

You knew that you have to leave him alone. But that would be no problem if you just lay down next to him and don't say anything.

After 10mins you started to break the hug as you thought he fell asleep. "Don't let go."

You almost panic when you heard him. His voice wasn't shaking anymore but you could feel that something is still bothering him. "Do you want me to spend the whole night with you? "

He rolled back as he grabbed your waist hugging you tightly. "Would you? "

You smiled kindly at his face. "with pleasure. "

You layed your head on his chest as he started to touch your back and tighs. sometimes he would giggle your body with his index finger and smirks as you tell him to stop. "Fine. Fine. I won't do that anymore."

But deep inside your heart you knew that you still want him to touch you that way. "Dabi..?"

"Yes?" He said that as he looked down to you to see what you want.

You changed your position. "I know you don't want to think about it anymore. But then when you were talking about your scars I should have said something else to put your mind at ease for good"

He started to look at you with surprised eyes. It is right that he didn't feel good back then but you would never say bad things to him.

You ignored his look as you continued talking to him. " That is why I am going to make you feel better"

You rolled back and layed on him as he gave you a smirk hold your waist even tighter. "AWWW. so my pretty girl wants to do something to make her daddy feel better. I think I am going to let you. "

He let your waist go of his hands as he started to take off his pants. But suddenly something came out of his mind. He looked back at you with a smirk. "As my doll wants me to feel better I am going to decide to show her how can she make me feel the best."

You had mentioned the passion flames in his eyes. "I am glad that you never change Dabi. So if you want to feel the best won't you mind take off my clothes by yourself"

He grabbed your waist once more pushed you so that you fell in bed as he let off your waist grabbing your t-shirt and tare it apart. while you started to unzip his pants. "Holy shit baby. This night is going to be the best night ever."

You felt that his dick is getting hard already when he saw your boobies out of that underwear of yours.

"Dabi...I think I need you. RIGHT NOW."

you said it as you saw his hardened dick coming off his underwear. "Wait my precious baby. I am going to make you cum all over my dick as soon as possible but let me just make your pussy ready for something that suits it and it is only yours...my cock."

He said this as he took off your panties and stared at your wet pussy waiting for his dick to get inside it. "Look how beautiful you are. Just like a naked angle flying through the sky searching for the Devil to devour her. Your only mine babe".

His words were enough to make you cum. "~DABI..!" you moaned his name loudly as he started to lick that pussy with his pierced tongue.

"Aww. Don't tell that my angle can't wait for her Devil to feel the best. I didn't think that you may be this obsessed with me."

He said as he grabbed one of your tighs and put it in your shoulder started to push his tongue in your pussy as you covered your mouth with your hand and moaned his name once more. " Don't you dare cover your mouth baby girl. Don't deprive me of hearing your nasty pretty moanes."

He said as he started to fuck you hard. You could feel his balls getting inside of you. He did really suit you. "Give me your pretty arm"

you listened as he ordered. Staring at him with your eyes as a tear started to fall from your eyeline.

He put your arm at the top of your belly so that you can feel him getting in and out. "IN. OUT. IN. OUT. Don't you see how good can we both feel."

He groaned as he pushed his cock even harder in you. and touch a spot in you tummy. You felt that all the world is bursting into flames around you as you got dizzy rolling your eyes. "AHHH...Dabi almost there. Yeahh..oh. yeah. here it comes. here it comes."

You moaned as you started to cum all around his dick. His voice again has started to shake but this time he was happy. "Best feeling ever baby."

He groaned as he pulled his dick out of you. "Dabi?" He started to stare at you once more. "Don't you ever dare to feel unwanted again. Cause I don't even want you I need you all over me. and about your scars, they didn't make you beautiful you made every inch of you scars the prettiest thing ever."

You said softly as you cupped his face kissing his lips.

"You would always make my dick shake with your words."

he smirked as he grabbed your tighs. "Ready for another round.?"

you looked back at him. "This is going to last forever. HELL YEAH."

________♥________

this was it. Hope you enjoy. You can ask me anything.

sharing and liking is apriciated.

~Dabi's Angle👼

:)

[wyverndollface96]

Arven x Female Reader: Baby

You were nearly through with being pregnant; though just past your due date. You get rushed to the hospital to bring yours and Arven’s baby into the world. Contains childbirth!

You were 9 months and 3 days pregnant. You and Arven were waiting anxiously for yours and his baby to be born. You were pretty exhausted and you ached a lot; the baby’s foot often times getting caught in your ribs, you having the urgency to pee every half hour, craving even the foods you usually hated but the baby wanted, and having to sleep naked sometimes because you get hot at night. Arven often times would have to bundle up because he had to keep your shared house cold for you, but he didn’t complain. He understood; he had to make sure you were comfortable.

It was 5am; you and Arven were asleep when you had to get up to pee. You carefully crawled out of bed without disturbing Arven and quietly walk to the bathroom. Though as you sat down to pee, you felt sharp pains going through your back and your pelvic area. Then you felt more than just pee leaking out of you. “Oh, god!” you groaned. That’s when you knew…your water broke.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you go back into the room to wake your husband up. “Arven?” you tapped Arven on the shoulder. Arven opens his eyes to see you standing beside his side of the bed. “Huh? What are you doing up, sweetie? Are you feeling okay?” he asked. You took Arven’s hand and said, “We need to go to the hospital! It’s time!” Arven quickly sits up with a surprised expression on his face.

You then felt a contraction; you put both your hands below your belly and breathe sharply. Arven gets up from the bed and goes to grab the chair from the desk and brings it to you. “Here. Sit down. Rest a moment. I’ll call the clinic.” he says. You slowly sit down to wait out the contraction. Arven grabs his phone from the desk and calls the clinic in Mesagoza.

“Hello,” he says, “this is Arven. I need a room for (Y/N). She just went into labor.” “Right away, Mr. Arven,” the receptionist on the phone said, “checking in Miss (Y/N). Alright, you two are all set. Just hurry and bring her in.” “Yes, ma’am,” Arven said, “I’ll get her ready to go.” The call ends. Your contractions were at ease. Arven went to grab your shoes and helped put them on your feet. “Alright, sweetie,” he says as he also gets his boots and puts them on, “let’s go have a baby.”

You and Arven got to Mesagoza’s clinic. You were checked in and were brought to a private room. You had been in labor and contracting for two hours. Arven held your hand and assured you to breathe for every contraction you had. Once that settled down, you then asked him, “Can you call my mother? Let her know her grandchild is coming.” “Yeah,” Arven nods, “I’ll be right back.” He gets up and steps out to the hall to call your mom.

After a couple hours, you were ready. You were being brought to the delivery room to have the baby while Arven waits for your mom to arrive. She arrives just in time. “Is she doing okay?” she asks. “She’s doing great,” Arven said, “she’s in the delivery room now. We gotta hurry in, quick.” Arven and your mom quickly rush to the delivery room. Mom got on one side of the bed while Arven stood at the other; each holding your hands. “Alright, (Y/N),” your doctor said, “take some breaths.” You took a few breaths. “You can do this, sweetie,” your mom said, “I know you can.” “I won’t mind if you break my hand, darling,” Arven said, “more importantly, our baby is coming.”

“Push!” the doctor said. You gripped both your mom’s hand and Arven’s hand as you pushed. You were groaning heavily loud. You felt shooting pain going down your entire body as you were in the process of giving birth. “Come on, (Y/N),” your mom said, “you’re doing good.” “Keep pushing, sweetness.” Arven encouraged, his voice winded because of your tight grip on his hand. You felt like your lower regions were on fire; it was so intense. The baby was surely going to tear you open.

After nearly an hour, the baby slipped out of you. You relaxed, for the forceful pain of pushing a whole human out of you was finally gone. You could hear the baby crying. “He’s here.” the doctor said. “It’s a boy!” Arven happily whines. “I have a grandson!” your mom says excitedly.

The baby was all cleaned up and is now cuddled in your arms. Your mom was taking pictures of you holding him while Arven sits by you, kissing your head and gently petting the baby’s head. You and Arven were thinking up a name for him. You both haven’t planned out well enough on baby names. That was until you had one in mind.

“Aurec?” you said. “Ooh,” Arven says, nodding, “that’s perfect for him. I like it.” “That’s a wonderful name for him.” Mom said.

Aurec Sada-Turo

💕💕💕

[xoxothesubwayfugitive]

Lucius is often characterized in fic as the ultimate dominant with a ton of sexual experience, but I have trouble writing him that way (even though I love reading it) because I view him as so loyal to Narcissa. Even though we know they are slightly older than many other Marauders era parents, we still have to assume they were married quite young and probably were dating at Hogwarts, so I don't really see him as having had an opportunity to sow his wild oats before their marriage, and I don't see him or Narcissa as wanting to open their relationship or wanting to cheat on one another. There's just not room in my imagining of them for him to have acquired a significant BDSM background beyond run of the mill rough sex and a little bit of a controlling personality, so even when I'm writing him with my OC after Narcissa's death, he's quite hesitant to push her to her limits. Of course he knows what he's doing (😈) but ultimately he's afraid of causing harm and he probably doesn't know how to be fully immersed in a "scene", preferring instead to just be a caring partner who will sometimes branch into something more intense.

Which is why they need Severus, who has had nothing but time to learn about every sexual deviance in the book, to join them and be the "bad guy", something you can read about here and here. Sample below the cut

"I want…" She hesitated, and looked over to where Severus was waiting patiently, almost bored. She would have been afraid to make eye contact with anyone else at that point, but she knew he would be expecting it. That he wouldn't shy away when he had decided he wanted something. "I want Professor Snape to join us. To teach me things." Snape didn't flinch, or smile, but she chanced to break away from his eyes and look to his crotch, where she saw a bulge that made her involuntarily spread her legs.

Lucius lifted her up by her elbow at that. "Go stand in front of us."

Felicity was wearing a fairly modest spring outfit; a blouse with a small V-neck and ruffled collar, and a mid-length satin skirt in deep teal. She felt both prudish and half naked under their scrutiny.

"Lucius tells me you call him Daddy, Felicity," Severus began, adjusting himself to sit more upright as he did so. He observed her over the rim of his glass as she scrambled for a reply.

"It's not…it's just a name. We don't do the other stuff. It's just something I like to say." She was almost pleading.

"Relax. It's sweet," he replied. She couldn't believe she was hearing him call something sweet, and seemingly mean it. "So he can be Daddy, and I'm Professor."

"And what does that make me?" she asked.

"What are you usually?"

Felicity twisted her fingers together behind her back. "My name, usually. "Love". It's really not – it's not like a game or anything."

"Lucius never calls you a slut?"

Her breath hitched, and she chanced her first glance to her husband, who was smirking a bit, although she could tell it wasn't malicious.

"Yes, Professor. Sometimes." Felicity could feel her chest reddening.

"Is there anything else he calls you sometimes?" Snape sneered.

"He calls me a good girl."

"And you like that, don't you?" he taunted.

"Yes, Professor."

Lucius leaned forward in his seat and brushed his fingers along the sensitive skin of her wrist. "Tell him how wet it makes you, love," he urged gently. Felicity swallowed hard and then returned Snape's gaze again.

"I love being his good girl, Professor," she acquiesced. It was easier when Lucius asked it of her.

"You submit to him so nicely," Severus observed. Lucius laughed and Felicity turned to smile with him; it was a joke between them that she was usually bitterly stubborn, only able to fall into the role of docile wife when they were completely alone and they had both switched off their normal thoughts in favor of pure sex. Even then, it was challenging for him to push her when she resisted, and challenging for her not to resist.

[xuddlink]

Don't You Dare to Suffer Alone

35 unanswered texts, 10 missed calls, and two days without his voice; that's all I need to barge into his apartment and invading his privacy. Privacy my ass, I murmur as I huffed angrily to the door I know very well the access numbers of. I thought, enough of this silence. I may cure nothing, but I still want to be present through out his low points.

I begin to walk down his dark apartment aisle. Luckily, I still managed to get to his living room without got tripped. Then, his living room is adorned with few kind of bottles that I am familiar with, and an ashtray that is filled with cigarette butts. On his couch, sprawled blanket was thrown messily. Meanwhile on his coffee table, there is a cup of unfinished coffee thag I am sure has gone bad by this morning.

His kitchen is in a chaotic mess. I don't bother to look deeper into the details. Yet I remind myself to clean the kitchen after I checked up on him.

I knocked his bedroom. Few times. Hence I didn't get a reply. With my very limited amount of patience, I decided to braged into his bedroom. Dark, messy, cold bedroom of his.

There he is, laying down on his stomach, on top of his unmade bed. The pillows are nowhere to be neat. The blanket is covering his whole body, which I believe is half naked. The only thing that I could see from him is the back of his head.

"Hey."

He groaned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I shrugged. I walked to his bed, then sit on his back. "Pissing you off. As per usual."

Him, unaffected with the weight that is put onto his back, begins to yawn. "Please. I don't want to do this. Not now."

"I wasn't asking for your willingness."

I know I am being such a cocky bitch. I know that I pushed his buttons. Yet I don't care. I don't like to sit still and look pretty meanwhile my boyfriend is dealing with himself. I'd rather choose to stick by his side and listen to his rumblings, all day.

He lets out a long huff. "Get off from my back," he said, as he tapped my thighs with his fingers.

"Not gonna happen."

"I just wanna fucking hug you. I kinda missed you. And your noisy ass. So please, get off from my back."

I obliged as soon as I head the word hug. Then I reposition myself, crawling my way into his embrace. I figured that my guess was right—he ain't wearing a shirt. I begin to circle my arms around his torso, so as he does the same onto mine. He put his chin on my forehead, as he breathe in my shampoo scent.

"You smell good," he complimented, as he rubs down my back.

"I smelt better yesterday," I replied while scoffing, which receive a small laugh from him.

"I bet," he said, as he tighten his hugs to my body. "I'm sorry."

I nod. "Yep."

"I'm sorry for ghosted you out of nowhere since yesterday. I'm sorry that I am such a cruel boyfriend. I'm sorry that I didn't give you what you deserve. I'm sorry for being myself."

I pouted as I heard his mumblings. "What the fuck was that?" I asked him, as I punched his stomach softly.

"My apologies, for you."

I snorted. "I don't accept those kind of apologies. The only apology I accepted is the apology that you said because you didn't tell me what are the things you've been through." Soft pinches are delivered onto his skin. My feet are kicking his, punishing him for saying nonsensical apologies. "And what the hell happened with you, me, everything, eventually will be fine? Come on, old man."

He laughed with his raspy voice. "I sometimes forget that I have a girlfriend with a fully functioning memory," he said, as he kissed my forehead.

"Yeah. One of us has to have that. And it seems like you're not having that. You even forgot about your magical reassuring words. Funny."

He laughed again. This time, his chest is reverberating as he laughed. "You're so petty when you're angry," he said. "And I love you for that."

I blushed. "You better be."

He then began to close his eyes. He also huggged my waist even tighter. "Please, stay here," he begs, as he kissed the top of my head continously.

I nod. "Sure. I'll be here. When you went to sleep, when you're asleep, and when you wake up, I will be here. I'll always be here."

"Promise?"

I snuggled into his chest. "Promise," I said. "Promise me to tell me what's going on inside your head when you wake up later?"

He shrugged. "I'll try."

Trying is enough. For us, trying is enough. Trying to be there for each other, trying to survive each days, and trying to believe that everything will be okay is enough.

"We'll try," I answered, as I closed my eyes.

"I'll try my best," he replied back, as his breath gets softer. Meant that he is asleep.

We will try our best.

[psych---ologically-deranged]

Autopsy turvy, this seems like a woody heavy episode, I might need to liveblog it. Side note, I haven't seen a flashback in a while.

Often confuses clowns & bus incidents.

Lost his keys in a woman's spleen. (they say the patient withheld the object, as if it's their fault.)

Briefly lovers with his forensic school classmate.

The camera is almost fuzzy, & the music, it def gives off a vibe.

Monk & sharona moments "you be the victim"

IT SHATTERS RIGHT THEN!? IS THAT A DREAM?

Who is this guy? Why is he so fancy? Why does he know them?

Oh a true crime bookstore. Castle moments. I need to finish posting all my stuff from that fixation.

It took me a second to et it. The little person is still at large. Ha. Hey I have one that involes psychics! A petite psychic escapes from prison: there is a small medium at large!

They turn around so a man can check out their "rumps"

Oh no not the yang book. Oh I remember, I once visited a show home where they had a bookshelf you could push in the basement to get to a secret movie theater room.

He's going to forge the signature

Woody probably gets off at 18.00 (6) because he said he'd stay there until 6.15pm if need be.

Hee lied & said his father was the king of sweden.

My man didn't chew his food

phat thai jones, the killer afro-thai place

I've met white (passing) thai people, chill out shawn, not every white person in america was born there. (Oh. Apparently this guy was adopted. I totally thought he was just thai or mixed or smth, which is funny bc it's a thai & african place & this guy is racially white, not racially black nor thai, even tho his dad is thai & his mom is Black from philly)

Sometimes people with allergies or intolerances can stand a little bit of the thing which hurts them.

"Could the alcohol have been inserted into his blood somehow?" 'That is the sexiest thing I've heard in this office.'

I like this weirdo

I LIKE THIS MUSIC. Usually I like jazz swing like big bands, but swing rock is ok too, but this is almost classical! I want to listen to glenn miller's moonlight serenade

I was right! It is 40s! or 30s.

Henry! Can Henry dance? "idk shawn." *looks at the voluptuous woman* "Count me in"

she's still dancing XD

Ooh another psychic!

*grabs his face* & she's right!

He was the stalker, not the other way around

No! The slavic accent going away!

lmao not death, that is not how it works

hiding behind one another

captions were wrong. "Hey o'hara"

He's a communicator? Dude your firt marriage failed & I am torn between you being a cis white guy & being autistic!

What the heck

Even sitting on the floor, Shawn grabs a pillow for his lap!

she calls woody a good boy ...

mortitian: is there anything sexier than a man scaling another man's fingernails? Woody: nope. & btw I realize I'm acutely turned on by taking orders from a woman. If this continues, I might have to change my facebook relationship status to "it's complicated" These two about to kiss over a dead body & then she asks about his wife with whom he is separated ebcause she cheated on him 2 times with 10 men, & idk if he is counting the one he approved

Gus recognizes her as the bologna girl XD

"Gus was there" pulling the "I have a Black friend" card? srs?

Morrtitian lady brought creme fraiche & strawberries into the morgue!? She sppoon feeds him & did you hear that moan!? GRACE that was her name!

Woody says it feels amazing to... mess with an intestine... while some old flame is feeding him strawberries

I NOTICED THE STAMP!!!

Ooh impala isn't a bad car. Poor whip chatterly. That sounds like a Gus name.

Woody: You just can't tell what a person is capable of until you've seen them naked. *proceeds to offer them cakesters with the dead body still there*

woody: From now on I'm not half-assing ANY autopsies, unless the corpse has half an ass

Shoot, & THEN the door slam. I honestly have been suspecting the mortician grace since day 1. Did he dial on purpose or WAS it a pocket dial?

Shawn gave Gus his cakester! They do love each other!

Swallowed a bullet?

biscotti? HOMEMADE? "Let's pretend we're oding an episode of red shoe diaries"

Grace Mortician: I think we need to pull another all-nighter. I love this job. Woodrow Strode: You know, I do too.

Motive?

Gus could totally rock a turtleneck.

Woody: I thought they were going home to watch hot in cleaveland *as if they live together*

calls her banana Even when she's basically confessing to him he says "we can still go two for three" this man

At least he got her to explain.

FINALLY SOMEONE IS OBSESSED WITH WOODY NOT WITH SHAWN! Brilliant but misunderstood. She broke open the case, but then she solved it? When did she choose to frame this guy?

SHE SLICED THE EARLOBE AFTER THE AUTOPSY! Why did she need it to be an investigation? "You may not realize it grace, but you're insane." 'Well I'm a woman. I can mask it.'

I'm not ready to die, I haven't seen gloria estefan in concert yet!

Thank you for believing in me. I didn't, I believed on your colleague who turned out to be a homicidal maniac.

I love you guys. I mean that. Shawn gus & woody are great, I wish they got more screentime. You know, it's just as easy for me to love a man as it is a woman. At the end of the day we're all jut meltable flesh & breakable bones.

& then immediately asks the chief, who has a picture of her daughter behind her, if she is seeing anyone. He saves it with "I was just overjoyed, got away frommyself" & then he ruins it with "I guess it'll only be in my dreams that you are the chief of doing me" like bro shut up I'm glad shawn & gus are there to... bring things... to a professional level... that is weird.

Awww henry napping on her boob <3

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Healing Ties - Chapter 49 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Libby took them around to the back of the Spire and down a staircase that led into the dungeons.

Yore he'd spent the last leg of their journey on two legs and so was wearing clothes someone had given him because doing this naked probably would have been a little disconcerting for the human.

She ran her fingertips along the stone wall as they walked down a narrow, dimly lit corridor.

"I'm reconsidering my dungeon designs. When we made this place, I thought this was good. Very dungeon like. People would be sent down here when they had done crimes and they would think about what they had done until I was ready to come and pass judgement. Doing that is usually pretty easy when you can read people's minds and know if they're guilty and if they feel bad and all that. I think, though, that very dungeon like dungeons are bad if you actually have to keep people in them for a while, though. What do you think, Yore?"

"That's a funny thing to ask when you can read my mind," Yore pointed out.

"Maybe it sounds silly but you weren't really thinking about what you thought of the idea until I asked you. Now you are."

Yore found himself smiling.

He appreciated how honest Libby was.

"I think that after seeing what the humans did to my home, it would be better to save any thoughts of redecorating until after you see what they've left you with."

"Hm. Good point."

Libby stopped outside of one of the many wooden doors lining the corridor.

"Okay. This is where my caged human is. I have several of them, actually but this is the one I think you might be able to help with."

Libby opened the door.

The human wasn't immediately inside the room.

The human was, as Libby had said, in a cage.

Half of the room was open and half of it was blocked off with bars and the human was locked within the barred section.

He was sitting on a low bench on one side of the room, his face buried in his hands.

He didn't move when they entered.

"Hello, human," Libby said. "I brought you some visitors."

The man still didn't move.

Libby sighed.

"Dustin, come on. I brought them here just for you."

The man, Dustin, looked up and fixed them with a glare.

"And you can take them away. Leave me alone."

Yore approached the bars.

"Libby tells me you have a story to tell and you could use a listening ear."

"I've told it once. I don't need to tell it again."

"Give me a chance. I want to hear what you have to say."

Dustin scoffed and shook his head.

"Cut the crap. You think I believe you're a human? That any of you are? You're all fucking tricksters."

"I'm not human. I'm not pretending to be. This is just what I look like."

"I'm going to leave you guys alone now but human man, you should tell Yore your story," Libby said.

"I think he can maybe fill in some gaps for you, if nothing else."

"If he has anything to do with what happened, I doubly don't want to talk to him," Dustin said.

Libby just shrugged and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Fanner approached the bars.

Dustin didn't look at him quite the same way he'd looked at Yore or Libby.

He still looked guarded, yes but less sure of himself.

"Hi," Fanner said.

Dustin made a sound in the back of his throat that was vaguely a greeting, neither friendly nor hostile.

"I'm new here too," Fanner said. "Not as new here as you are, probably but I lived with humans until, um... maybe a couple of weeks ago now?"

"You a runaway?"

"Yeah."

"And you're not a prisoner here, huh?"

"No, I'm not a prisoner. Everyone's been really nice."

Dustin shook his head.

"Well, that's good for some but what do you think they'd do to you if you were a human?"

Fanner shrugged.

"My brother's husband is a human. They're outside right now. I think sometimes people can be a bit rude to him?"

"Right. That seems likely."

Fanner shrugged again.

"I'm kind of confused because it seems like you don't really hate mages but you hate everything else that isn't human but most humans barely even know what else exists. Why? Did someone here do something to you?"

"They killed my kid."

Fanner tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"You brought a child here with you?"

"No. Not here. They came onto my own property and killed the boy."

"Who's 'they'?" Yore asked.

Dustin sighed.

"Fine. I'll just tell the flippin' story then, I guess."

Yore nodded.

"Please."

"It was fifteen, twenty years ago now," Dustin said.

"I'm a farmer. Was back then, too,but a younger one just starting out with my own herd of cattle on my own land. I was out checking on them one day when I see a boy, maybe ten years old and as naked as the day he was born just wandering around in one of the fields. I thought maybe someone had taken him out there and done something to him but he wasn't hurt. Wasn't even upset. He wouldn't tell me his name or where his parents were, so I brought him back home and put some clothes on him and gave him some food."

"That was a nice thing to do," Fanner said.

"I've just realised that I don't really know if that's something most humans would do. When you're a slave, you don't get to see the best of people very often."

"Mm, well, we never used slaves to work our farm," Dustin said.

"Anyway, this kid wouldn't say anything about where he'd come from and we couldn't find anyone who was looking for him. We figured he'd either run away or got tossed out on the street by his parents, so we kept him. I'll admit he seemed a little slow for his age but he was strong and hard working and he had a good heart. We gave him a home and we were glad to have him. For about two weeks, anyway."

"What happened?"

"One of these shit-heads happened. We were good people. Never did a thing wrong. Didn't keep slave, didn't go anywhere we were supposed to be, minded our own damn business. Can't say I knew anything about the kid's history, but he was a kid. Just a little boy."

Fanner was nodding along as Dustin spoke.

"Did something happen to him?"

"He went outside one night to use the outhouse. We hear him talking, so we go outside to see what's going on because everyone else is inside. There's a huge fucking wolf right in front of him. I've never seen a wolf before but I'm telling you, that thing wasn't natural. There's no way it was a normal wolf. Thing snarls and we scatter, grabbing whatever we can to use as weapons but by the time we rally together for a fight the fucking thing is gone and so is the kid."

"It took him?"

"He was gone, it was gone. Yeah, it fucking took him. We looked and looked in case maybe he just ran off and hid, but all we ever found of him were the clothes we'd given him. We had a field full of cattle that it could have taken if it was hungry, but it took my kid from me instead. How's that okay?"

"Some of the things here are just dangerous and they will just try to kill you even if you haven't done anything wrong," Fanner said.

"But... I'm not sure that's what's happened in your case."

"Did you find any remains?" Yore asked. "Any signs of a struggle? Was the clothing torn or bloody?"

Dustin scoffed.

"What, you think the kid just sat down with the big angry wolf and took his own clothes off?"

"They weren't torn, were they?" Yore pressed.

"I'm sure that's never made much sense to you."

"Lot of things don't make sense to me but I know what I lost and I can't forgive that."

"Libby was right," Yore said. "I think I do know something about what happened that night. I've heard the other side of this story. We'll be back in a minute."

"The wolf," Fanner said once they were back out into the corridor.

"Was that...?"

"I think it was my mother," Yore said. "Emity."

By the time they got back over to the campsite, the sun was beginning to set and a bonfire had been lit.

Yore glanced at Fanner for just a second and found his gaze lingering.

The fiery light ignited Fanner's hair and the shadows traced the delicate shape of his face.

It took all of Yore's self control not to just forget about everything else and take Fanner for a walk along the beach instead.

He let out a sigh as he turned away.

He could only hope that there would be other sunsets.

"Yore," Slone called out as they approached, holding up a plate. "Food."

Yore could smell it.

Seafood, mostly, a staple here but they had fresh fruits as well and even some cheese.

"I'll eat soon but I need you for something first. You and Emity."

"Ah, all right," Slone said. "Can I bring my food with me?"

"It's probably going to make the mood a little weirder than it needs to be if you're munching on some crab cakes but sure."

[ultramantr1gger]

Goes by sonic dude rules when it comes to clothing !!! What the hell man !!!!!

kinda backwards sonic dude rules actually, theyre allowed to have shirts but NOT pants. i, however, usually have my pants on....no shirt

[kuroosweakness]

“i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight” | kuroo, suna, atsumu 

a/n: first post in a while :’D i love commentary so pls leave some interesting tags/ comments :)) as much as i love kuroo, i have to admit i got butterflies while writing suna’s part

kuroo tetsuro 

╰ “tetsu, i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight” 

his head whips around so fast. his hands grip the edge of his desk to stable himself as he questioningly asks, “why?” kuroo’s eyebrows furrow as his eyes narrow in on you. 

“mm, no special reason,” you quip back. “it’s just too hot in here.” as you turn to leave the bedroom to grab a blanket, kuroo scoots his chair and clasps your wrist. 

“we can turn on the ac or a fan if you want,” he says with a hopeful smile–the same smile he uses to provoke convince you into things. before you can give it some thought, he pulls on your wrist to bring you closer (most likely to fog up your brain with kisses), but you’re quick to dig your feet into the carpet and resist. 

“it’ll still be too hot,” you laugh and with a final tug, your wrist slips out of his hold. “i’m gonna go get blankets to set up the couch!” kuroo leans back in his chair and twirls the hem of his shirt with one finger. 

“set up blankets for me too,” he calls out with a smile. and with that, he gets up from his chair and pads across the living room to help you find the blankets in the messy closet. 

as you reach up, you see his shadow cast over the closet, indicating that he’s standing behind you. kuroo is so tempted to tickle your underarms, but he knows it’ll only resolve in you avoiding his touch for the rest of the night. 

“i guess our bed will be lonely tonight,” he hums as he bundles his favorite red and black blanket in his arms. 

“but if you’re sleeping on the couch too, you’ll heat it up and it’ll be too hot...” you quietly bring up as he shuffles out of the closet. 

“so i’m the problem here?” he teasingly asks while sending you a look of amusement. he shakes his head as he walks over to the couch. “and suddenly, i’m cold-blooded” 

~~~

“the bed’s a lot more comfy than the carpet, y’know,” you quietly say. you turn to look down from the couch at the back of his head. his black hair is barely visible in the dark. expectantly, the couch can barely fit one person, and kuroo decided the one person would be you. so there he is, laying on the carpet next to the coffee table on his belly. 

he grins under his pillow and muffles, “if it’s so comfy, why don’t you come and join me there?” 

you blink, trying to come up with a better answer other than ‘it���s too hot.’ this prank is taking a lot longer than you had expected. is it too late to tell him that you only said you wanted to sleep on the couch to be dramatic? 

“speaking of which,” he starts. “you’re covered in a lot of blankets for someone who claims-” his hands leave the sides of his pillows to make air quotes, “-it’s too hot.” 

you breath hitches for a moment before sighing and throwing your blankets aside. why must he catch on to everything? you slowly sit up and slides off the couch. as you land beside him, his hand snakes around your waist and pulls you in closer. already, you can feel his body heat. 

“we should stay like this,” he says. his face leaves his pillow and turns to look at you. “camping out in the living room isn’t half bad” 

suna rintaro 

╰ “rin?” 

suna hums back in response before taking a long sip of water. 

you peek into the kitchen and catches his glance for just a second.  “i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” 

above his red cup, you can see his eyebrow raise in question. he tilts his head back further to gulp down the remaining water. after a final gulp, he brings his cup down on the countertop and shifts his weight onto one foot. 

“can i ask why?” he asks with maintaining eye contact. he takes a couple steps toward you before leaning against the wall on his side, one hand holding onto his elbow. 

“i just feel like it’s too hot to sleep in the room...” you reply back. “i was practically sweating the other day. it feels too stuffy sometimes” 

“maybe we can open a window before sleeping...?” he brings up. “but if you really want to sleep on the couch-” he raises his hands in defeat and slowly walks out of the kitchen. “-do as you wish.” 

~~~

“why’re you gathering blankets?” suna crawls across from the front of the bed to the bottom to meet you before you leave the room. 

“i already told you, rin.” you give him small smile. “the couch? i’m gonna sleep there? remember? i told you an hour ago.” 

suna takes a good look at the blankets in your arms and sighs. “i didn’t think you were serious...if it’s really that hot, we can just open a window or turn on a fan or sleep without covers. the couch isn’t for...” he lightly scowls. “...sleeping.” 

“why’re you so against me sleeping on the couch?” you tease as you catch the blanket that was slipping out of your embrace. 

“because you have a perfectly good bed to be sleeping on,” he says while using an arm to display the bed behind him. “and wouldn’t it be scary to sleep all alone in the living room in the dark?” 

“....no?” 

“aw c’mon, there’s gotta be a better solution than you sleeping on the couch. and what am you supposed to do when it’s july? am i gonna be sleeping alone for 3 months...???”

miya atsumu 

╰ “’tsumu!” 

“yeah?” he calls out from the bathroom. you hear the doorknob jingle and looks up to see your boyfriend with a towel wrapped around his lower waist. atsumu ruffles his wet hair with a smaller towel and grins at your interested eyes. 

“i was just gonna say...” you try your best to peel your eyes away from him and back at your phone. “...that i’m planning to sleep on the couch today.” 

atsumu stops drying his hair and gawks at you. “whaaat? what for?” he plops his half-naked self on the couch and scoochs closer you. “c’mon babe, answer me. what for??” 

“it’s really hot in the bedroom,” you reply back while biting back a giggle as he nuzzles against your neck to see what you’re scrolling through. 

“that looks really badly photoshopped,” he points out as you pause scrolling to see the obviously photoshopped girl at a beach resort picture. 

“even my fans’ edits of my 10 pack looks better than that,” he chuckles. before you can say something, he frowns and brushes his cheek against yours. “anyways, remind me why you’re gonna sleep on the couch again.” 

“i wasn’t actually being serious.” you roll your eyes. “why would i sleep on the couch when i have a nice bed?” you give him a small smile and leans against him. atsumu blinks and bumps his cheek against yours, a bit harder than before. 

“a nice bed and a nice boyfriend,” he remarks with a grin as he slowly sits up to get dressed in his usual pajamas. “see ya in 2 minutes, babe....not on the couch this time” 

[scuttling]

Sweet Evening Breeze

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,042 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Naïve reader, Innocence kink, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Previous bad sexual experience Summary: Being Jack Hotchner’s babysitter is a pretty great job. He’s an angel, most of the time, and his dad is so sweet and thoughtful, really takes care of you. Really takes care of you... *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Jack, buddy, time for breakfast,” you call down the hall for the third time. “We’ll play Legos later.” He shouts something nearly incomprehensible back, and you sigh as you stretch up, trying to reach the jam he likes on the top shelf of the cupboard.

Most of the time, the fact that Jack’s dad, Aaron, is very tall gives you butterflies in your stomach, but sometimes it’s just an inconvenience—like when he puts groceries up so high you don’t have a chance of reaching them.

“Dad did not say you could skip breakfast, and it’s not okay to lie. Little monster,” you mutter, and you can feel Aaron’s breath on the back of your neck when he chuckles softly. Whoops. You didn’t even know he was standing there. “I say that with full affection.”

He reaches around you to take down the jam, resting a hand on your lower back, probably for support. The bit of skin exposed by your stretching tingles at the touch.

“Of course, and so do I. Often.” You turn to face him, give him a grateful smile, and take the jar of jam.

“Thank you. Ugh, aren’t you miserable in that?” you ask, gesturing to his usual business suit. As Jack’s babysitter, you see Aaron in a suit almost every day—another thing that gives you butterflies—but you’re in the middle of a heatwave, and it’s 97 degrees in your little suburb of DC, which means it’s probably more like 115 downtown. That’s too hot to do anything, but especially in a suit and tie.

“It’s cool in here, but yes, I’ll probably be miserable the second I step foot outside.” You spread peanut butter on one English muffin and jam on another, laughing softly when a thought comes to you.

“Too bad you don’t have as much flexibility with your dress code as I do.”

At the start of this heatwave last week, you’d asked Aaron—after much nervous deliberation—if you could wear shorts and tank tops around the house instead of your usual jeans and a t-shirt or sweater. Your so-called uniform was self-imposed, because he’d told you from the start you could dress however you were comfortable, but you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You weren’t trying to show off your body, or tempt or tease, or anything like that; you were just extremely hot, especially playing outside with Jack.

He had agreed, of course, that you should dress for the weather, and that shorts and tank tops were fine. He also reminded you that you could use the pool whenever you wanted, whether he was home or not, and just thinking about taking a dip later is enough to make you sigh in relief.

“I don’t think anyone would be interested in seeing me in an outfit like that,” he jokes—sometimes people can’t tell when he’s joking, because he’s so dry, but you’re familiar with his humor by now—and you laugh again. It earns you a smile.

“I think it’s more important that you’re comfortable than what people think when they see you in something, but it would probably be a little distracting.” You’ve seen him in his swim trunks on more than one occasion, most recently with no shirt to accompany them, and you can attest to being very distracted that day. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Jack, and you did, would never put him in danger, but your eyes had also been following the drops of water that dripped from Aaron’s hair, down his throat, over his chest…

You had been hot for more than one reason that day, and your butterflies moved a little bit lower.

You shake your head of those thoughts quickly, glance around you to see that Jack is still not in the kitchen. You sigh, and put the peanut butter muffin on a paper napkin, hand it to Aaron.

“I’m going to go get him, but have a good day, okay? Try to stay cool; maybe you can take a swim tonight when it’s not so hot.”

“Good idea. Maybe you can join me if you’re still here.” That was sweet of him to offer. You smile at his kindness, brush a hand over your head. You wish your hair wasn’t all over the place, clinging to the sweat on your neck, your temples, but humidity is not your friend. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Thanks, maybe I will.” He gathers his things to head out, and you steel yourself and head to Jack’s room, scoop him up, giggling, into your arms, and plop him down for breakfast.

The two of you spend the day inside, because even swimming is a nightmare when the sun is beating down the way it is. You play with Legos, watch a movie, do some coloring pages, and play learning games on his iPad.

At around three, Aaron texts you, lets you know he won’t be home tonight because of a case, and you mentally plan out a small, easy dinner for you and Jack, then a little more playtime, then bed for Jack and a swim for you after.

You tuck him in, turn on his nightlight, and close the door behind you, then head to your room to change into your bathing suit.

You usually wear a purple one piece with shorts over it, something you can play with Jack in without worrying about anything falling out, so you’re surprised to find a pale blue, floral print bikini on your bed—a very tiny bikini—with a sticky note on the tag.

Went shopping for Jack and this made me think of you. I hope you like it. - Aaron

The first two things to pop into your head are, it was so sweet of him to think of you while out shopping, and you’re really glad he’s not here to see you in it, because it only half-covers all the things it’s supposed to cover. You double check the tag, but it’s the right size, so it must just be the intended design. Your cheeks flush hot, but it also makes you feel good, to be wearing so little. Kind of wrong, but good in a way you can’t explain.

You grab a couple of beach towels and step out into the slightly cooler night air, sigh at the feel of it on so much of your skin. You lay out your towels on the lounge chair by the edge of the pool—maybe you’ll lay there and read or play on your phone after your swim—and then step into the pool.

The water is still so warm, and the contrast between it and the breeze that blows across the surface has goosebumps breaking out across your skin. You dip your head under the water, let your hair fall loose and luxuriously wet after being twisted up all day long, and when you open your eyes Aaron is standing at the edge of the pool; you gasp, startled by his sudden appearance, and then laugh lightly.

“Oh my god, you scared me. I thought you weren’t going to be home tonight?” You swim closer to the edge so you can see him better, and he crouches down to your level. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, loosened the collar of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves; your heart races a little at his proximity, and all the dark hair you’re presented with.

“Change of plans, we weren’t needed after all. I texted you, but I see your phone is over there; I’m sorry I scared you.” He looks you over, something calculating in his gaze, and then smiles softly. “You’re wearing the swimsuit I bought you. Do you like it?”

You can feel yourself flush, because you hadn’t anticipated him being home to see you in it, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Yes, I like it. It’s pretty. Thank you.” He must be able to sense your apprehension, because he tilts his head curiously.

“If you don’t like it, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings. Don’t be shy.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I love it. That was so sweet of you.” You reach out a hand to rest on his arm, don’t want him to feel like you aren’t grateful. “It’s just a little… revealing.” He makes a soft noise of contemplation, reaches out to brush his fingers over your shoulder, over the strap.

“I was a little worried about that. Why don’t you get out of there and let me see? I can let you know if I think it’s too much.” You appreciate that he’d do that for you, and you respect his opinion, but you feel really exposed in it—and you’re not sure why that makes you feel so uncomfortable and so good at the same time.

Sure, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but there’s no way he’d ever look at you as anything other than the sitter. You’re just too… innocent.

All the same, you nod your head and lift yourself up out of the pool; Aaron moves back, helps you up, and guides you over to the lounge chair. He sits, and you stand.

From there, he looks slowly over your body; he lingers over your breasts, your hips, then asks you to turn so he can see the back. You swallow, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Have you ever been this undressed in front of a man?” he asks, his voice low, and your breath hitches. “I can tell you’re nervous, that’s all.”

“Um. Once,” you say, flushing. He hums, brushes a hand down the length of your arm, and you feel a chill. You turn back to face him, and he pats the lounge chair, encouraging you to sit next to him. You sit, cross legged, facing him, nervous, but… also not; it’s hard to explain.

“Were you completely naked?” The way he asks it is so casual, but being naked isn’t casual for you; you can barely bring yourself to think about being naked, let alone talk about it. With your employer.

But something about the way he asks it makes you want to answer, at the same time, and there’s almost no one you trust more than Aaron. He’s always been so good to you.

“No. I left something on.” It had been a bra, gray with a pink bow in the middle. You were more comfortable keeping it on, and your ex-boyfriend hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared about much, it turns out.

“Was it during sex?” The way the word sounds coming out of his mouth makes you anxious, and excited; you can’t believe you’re having this conversation, and you also don’t want it to end.

“Yes, during... sex.” He nods, brings a hand to your cheek and brushes your wet hair back, tucks it behind your ear. Your heart is beating so fast you’re surprised the world around you is still so calm, quiet. Intimate.

“How many times have you had sex, sweet girl?” You close your eyes, embarrassed. You don’t want him to know how innocent you really are, not when he’s so much older and more experienced. He’ll laugh.

Then again, this is Aaron, and he’s only ever made you feel cared about and safe before. So maybe he won’t?

“Um. One time.”

“Just one time? That’s surprising to me; you’re so beautiful.” You shiver, maybe from being wet with the breeze on your skin, or maybe because he brushes his fingers over your lips, or maybe because he called you beautiful. No one’s ever called you beautiful. “Did it feel good?”

You’d wanted it to feel good; it did, for maybe a minute, and you think about that minute all the time, especially when you… when you slip your hand into your panties at night in your bed, thinking about Aaron’s broad shoulders, his thick forearms, his hands, his mouth...

“Kind of. And then no.” His hand freezes and he frowns. His voice is abruptly less low, more serious. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows you want to reach out and touch.

“Did he hurt you?” It had hurt, but you know he hadn’t meant for it to hurt. He wasn’t mean. He was just so eager to finish that once he started, he’d stopped caring if you were feeling good, so focused on his own body. You figured that’s just how guys are, and it made you never want to do it again—so you didn’t.

“Not on purpose,” is what you say. He covers your hand with his, big and warm and careful. You’ve always felt so comforted by his touch, and tonight is no exception.

“What happened?”

“It started quickly and ended quickly. I don’t think I was… prepared.” You’re blushing, hoping he understands your indirect statement so you don’t have to say it out loud. He rubs his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand, reaches up with the other to touch your flushed cheek.

“You weren’t wet?” You exhale, a little shaky, tell him no. “Are you wet now, sweetheart?” You’re almost ashamed to say, but he is asking...

“Very.” It’s just a whisper, but it makes him smile a little, touch your mouth again. You could get used to that.

“Good girl. Can I feel?” That gives you pause, for a moment, but thinking of him touching you where you’ve imagined for months—it’s too good of a prospect to pass up, no matter how nervous you are. You nod, and he moves his hand inside your swimsuit bottoms, brushes over your core, slips between your lips easily. He never takes his eyes off of yours. “It would feel really good to have sex now. Do you want to try again? You’re always taking such good care of us; I want to take care of you.”

You bite your lip, and he leans in slowly, presses his mouth to yours for a gentle kiss. You make a soft noise of pleasure, tilt your hips so you’re sliding over his hand, and he groans—it’s honestly one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. It means he wants you… never in a million years would you have guessed that.

“I want to try,” you breathe, and you feel bold, so you kiss him this time. He pulls you close, deepens the kiss, adds tongue, and you moan at the feel, clinging to his shirt. “Aaron.”

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he says, voice low, and he moves his fingers up to the part of you that makes you shake with desperate need, rubs tight circles so you’re panting, chest heaving; you nod quickly and he picks you up, hand still moving inside your swimsuit, carries you to the sliding glass door and pushes it open with his elbow.

You assume you’ll head straight for the bedroom, but he stops in the kitchen, sets you on the counter and kisses you again, a little harder than you’ve experienced before; you love it, try your best to match the way his mouth moves, and his fingers press hard against your aching bud, making you gasp with pleasure.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” he asks, a little breathless himself, and you smooth your fingers through his hair.

“Um. I think so. From touching myself like this.” He moves his fingers faster, and you press your palm against the counter for support, move your hips against his hand. It feels so good, so much better than when you do it that you could cry.

“Has someone else ever given you an orgasm?” You use the fingers in his hair to bring him to you for a kiss, something you both moan softly into.

“No. I want-I want you to be the first,” you murmur, and he closes his eyes, exhales through his nose, and lifts you up again, this time carrying you to his bedroom and setting you on your feet by the bed. He looks down at you with eyes so dark and gorgeous, then asks if he can remove what little clothing you have on. You tell him yes, and he pushes down the bottoms, which you step carefully out of.

When his hands move to the top, you hesitate, always self-conscious about this; he leans in and presses delicious kisses to your neck, your shoulders, slides the straps down, and looks up at you with caring, gentle eyes. You nod, and he pulls your top off, too, leaving you completely naked in front of someone for the first time in your life.

It’s such a rush, you wish he hadn’t waited so long to initiate this.

“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he says, and with the way he‘s looking at you, you actually believe it. He takes your face in his hands, kisses your lips, then moves down your throat again, your chest—he pays your nipples a bit of attention, flicking his tongue, scraping his teeth, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. “So perfect.”

He puts his hands all over your body, sweeping over your arms, your waist, and he presses kisses to your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You want his mouth where his fingers were, but you don’t ask; it’s almost like he knows anyway, when he looks up at you from his knees.

“Has anyone ever tasted you?” You shake your head, and he puts his hands on your butt, squeezes softly, and guides you to lay back on the bed. “I want you to tell me how it feels, okay?”

Normally, you’re quiet out of necessity, because when you aren’t here you have an apartment you share with a roommate—even though most of the time, you sleep here whether you’re strictly required to or not. You’re quiet here too, because you’ve never wanted Aaron to know how he makes you feel, although now you’re really wishing you’d have found out sooner that he feels the same way. Imagine all the cool, quiet nights you could have spent on this bed, in his arms…

Shaking yourself out of the fantasy—because reality is literally happening, and it’s so much better—you nod, and he carefully spreads your thighs, leans in to tease his tongue along your slit, light and wet.

“Oh. Aaron.” He looks up, reaches a hand forward to twine your fingers together, and you squeeze them, moaning when he dips again, this time pressing his tongue inside you where you’re wettest. “Oh my-oh my god.” He leans in to press damp kisses to your lower belly.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I want you to come on my tongue—come on my tongue, don’t be shy.” Again, he slides it inside, brings his free hand up to rub you, and it’s not long before you do as he asks, shaking and tightening your grip on his hand. You’re almost embarrassed by how loud you are, but he is nothing but sweet when he comes up, whispers in your ear how well you did for him, how pleased he is to be the first to make you moan like that, to taste you.

He kisses your mouth so you can taste yourself, and groans when you reach for his head, hold him closer.

“Thank you,” you murmur, shaky, when the kiss breaks, and he rubs over your lips with his thumb like he did before, smiles softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to take care of you; I’m just so glad you let me.” You move your hands to the front of his shirt and rest them there, hoping he’ll take the hint, but he just gets a glimmer in his eye that makes the butterflies flutter low despite your very recent release. “Don’t be shy. Tell me what you want.” You flush, don’t know how to ask a man—especially a man like Aaron—to get naked for you. “Oh, there’s that blush. My sweet, innocent girl. You haven’t even been properly fucked, of course you don’t know how to ask for what you want. But I’ll teach you.”

He sits up, hovering over your body, gets his fingers on the buttons of his shirt and starts to slip them free. He has to unzip his pants to untuck it, and the sight and sound of that makes you whimper—you immediately tense, feel shame at being so vocal, but he just leans in to kiss you, soft and slow.

“You can’t wait for me to be naked too, can you? You want to see what a man looks like, feel what a man feels like. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” It comes out roughly, almost too low for even you to hear; you clear your throat and try again. “Yes, Aaron.” It earns you a slightly harder kiss, and he climbs off the bed to undress the rest of the way; your eyes are drawn to his erection as soon as it’s exposed, and he looks at you with nothing less than lust in his eyes. It makes you shiver and want to open your legs for him again.

“You’re staring. Have you touched a cock before—stroked it with your hand?”

“No. Can I?” you ask, sitting up against the pillows, and he nods, moves next to you, and takes your hand. You’re intimidated by the size of him, all the more so when he wraps your fingers around it, covers them with his, and strokes.

“Feels so good, baby,” he rumbles, slinging his free hand around your hip and holding you close to his body. He is so… just good looking, so different from your ex-boyfriend, from guys your age, and you look up at his face while you touch him, hoping to bring him even half as much pleasure as he brought you. Your eyes flick back down, though, after a short time, transfixed by the wet head disappearing into your fist. “Hmm. Good girl. Do you want to try putting your mouth on it?”

God, do you want to try that. You want to know what it tastes like, feels like on your tongue; you nod, scoot back a little so you can bend over him, and he puts his hands on your head, slowly guides your open mouth to hover over him.

“Careful with your teeth, and keep me nice and wet, okay? We'll go slowly.” He pushes your hair back from your face so he can see you better, which is sweet, and you nod, close your lips around him, let him show you how he wants you to do it.

He feels so big in your mouth, and you remember to be careful, to be wet, like he said. He’s not making you take him deeply, just a couple of inches, and when you’re not so nervous it feels really good, the weight of him against your tongue, his gentle hands teaching you what to do. It makes you feel useful, learning how he likes to be pleasured, and you enjoy finding ways to make yourself useful to Aaron.

“Perfect, perfect. Just like that—you’re doing great, sweetheart.” You hum around him, pleased that it feels good for him, and you’re stricken with the urge to feel him spilling into your mouth, but he groans and offers something even more intriguing. “Would you like to come sit in my lap? I want to press into your warm, tight, sweet pussy; I promise it will feel good, not like last time.” You make another noise, something eager, and he pulls you off and gets his hands on your waist, brings you up to rest against his thighs.

“Will it hurt?” you ask, just in case. You hadn’t thought to ask that last time. “You’re big; what if it doesn’t fit?” You look up at him, and warm, tender eyes peer into yours.

“It won’t hurt, and it will fit, I promise. We’ll make it fit. Lean up.” You stretch up a little, press your hands to his shoulders, and he rubs his hands soothingly over your body, kisses your chest, and then dips a finger inside you; you grip him tightly, moan, hold still while he moves it in and out, then adds another. “How does that feel? Don’t be shy.”

“Feels-feels good,” you breathe, and he pumps them together which feels so incredible, so new. He brings his free hand to your butt and squeezes softly.

“Good girl. I’m adding another. You’re so wet, it shouldn’t be a problem, but tell me if it’s uncomfortable.” The third finger makes you feel like you’re full up, a little snug, but you know you’ll need to get used to it if you want him inside; you breathe, will yourself to only feel the good, remind yourself that this isn’t like last time. Aaron is being so good to you; he won’t stop being good to you.

“Aaron.” It’s a gasp, a plea, a question, and he answers it by pulling his fingers out, putting his hands on your hips, and lining his cock up at your entrance, lowering you slowly onto it. You pant, moan as it slides in; it feels tight to you, and you’re so incredibly full, but his hands feel like safety and you’re not worried. He’s always taken care of you; he wouldn’t hurt you.

“You’re perfect, you’re doing so good. You feel so good.” He squeezes you, stretches up to brush his lips over yours. “We’re going to make you come again; I’ll give you the best night of your life, I promise.”

“Of course you will. This is already the best night of my life,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he kisses you harder; you can feel his hands tighten, and it doesn’t hurt, only makes you want more, rougher. You feel filthy for wanting that, but it’s Aaron, and you want any and everything he wants to give; you also want him to take anything he wants to take.

He moves your body up and down, a show of strength that makes you moan, just a string of desperate sounds you’re a little embarrassed of; he appreciates the noises you make, though, if the way he grips you is any indication, his eyes determined as he makes you bounce on his cock.

“Oh, yes baby, just like that. How does it feel, sweet girl?”

“Mmh, good, so good, so good,” you sigh, your butt making contact with his firm thighs each time he brings you down on him. “Feels so good to be… to have it inside me.”

Aaron hums, frowns just slightly.

“Tell me what it is, baby. Your innocent little mouth can be dirty for me, this once. What feels good? What’s inside you?” His voice is a little tense, like maybe he wants to finish, but he doesn't change a thing, doesn’t hurt you so he can get there faster. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, curl fingers into his hair.

“Your… It’s your cock, Aaron. Your cock feels so good inside me.” You’ve thought the word, never said it aloud, but it makes him groan deeply, so you vow to say it again at some point just to savor that reaction.

“Yes it does, yes it does. Feels so good inside your perfect pussy, my perfect, sweet girl.” His hands move you faster, and you want to help now that you know this is how he likes it; when the two of you work together, it’s quicker thrusts, harder thrusts, your breasts bouncing along with the rest of your body and making you feel filthy, indecent. Amazing.

You lean in for a kiss, and Aaron turns it into something deep and decadent, delicious; you pass moans back and forth, holding tightly to him, the both of you breaking a sweat even in the cool air. You’re so close, so close to the ultimate pleasure you felt with his head between your legs, and you can hear your moans change, eager, needy things.

“Aaron please. Please.” You take his face in your hands, look into his eyes, bounce on him and kiss him and plead for release against his lips, and he holds you so tightly and climaxes, spilling inside you and pumping up into you, breathless.

“Oh, good girl, you did that. You made me come, baby. Not so innocent anymore, are you?” You shake your head—you don’t feel innocent anymore, you feel good, you want more, want to chase the feelings you’ve felt tonight, including the one still building inside you. “Now let’s get you off. I want to feel it.” He digs his fingers into your hips, so hard you think it might bruise, but in your heightened state of arousal it just feels good; you keep moving until your orgasm takes control of you, makes you grip his hair hard in your fingers and slam yourself down on him.

“Yes, yes, mmm.” He brings a hand to your face, softly catches your jaw, and guides you to make eye contact while you ride him through it until you are both spent, sinking against the bed. He sweeps his hands over your body, kisses you softly, and you melt at his touch. “That was so incredible. Thank you.”

“I told you, you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to take care of you; been wanting that for some time,” he admits easily, touching your cheek. “I’m just glad I could give you a good experience after the bad one.”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Your voice is light, low, because saying things like this, talking about sex, is still so new to you. “I love being here for you, helping you with Jack, and anything else you need. Do you think you’ll want or need me like this again?”

“Oh, I don’t see how I could do without, if it’s something you want. Although I may have to return that swimsuit. It is pretty indecent,” he says with a somewhat guilty smile.

You figured as much, and for the first time tonight you feel very confident when you say, “No, I think I’d like to keep it.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[erodasfishtacos]

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

-

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

-

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

[lovingthereign25]

Marry me💍🤍

I sat in Roman's locker room on the phone with Becky who was my best friend , she was now on Raw which killed me not seeing her every week and not to mention that gorgeous little girl she had.

"I don't Becks things are too complicated right now, Roman is finally where is wants to be in his career. I don't wanna ruin what he have bringing up the our future" I say

"You're not complicating things by asking Y/n, for crist sake you've been together 6 years the fact that there isn't already a ring on your finger is disrespectful you've gone through everything with him" she says

It was no secret to Becky that Roman and I had been going through a rocky point in our relationship we fought alot which we never did before, sometimes he doesn't even come home he stays at his Mom's. And forget about bringing up marriage or children or anything that has to so with our future, it turns into World War 3.

"This is our future Y/n, I'm the champion I'm main eventing every night, I'm the future of the company hell I am the company" he would say

Just then he and Paul walked into the locker room.

"I gotta go Beck I'll call you later,give princess kisses" I say hanging up.

Ignored as usual, he walked right past me to sit on the couch across from Paul talking business. Just like the last few weeks I'm invisible. And I've had enough I wasn't gonna do this anymore I wanted the man I fell in love with back and the one sitting in front of me wasn't him.

"Paul, can you excuse us for a minute I need to speak to Roman alone" I say

"sur..." Paul began before being inturupted by Roman

"Y/n whatever it is can wait this is more important" he says

"No, Paul leave." I say

Without a word Paul nods his head and exits the room leaving me and Roman alone.

" This better be hella important Y/n or I swear " he says but I cut him off

"Roman, I'm leaving, I'm going home" I said

" You kicked Paul out just to tell me you're going home, like I wouldn't notice when I got there tomorrow morning" he says rolling his eyes

" Not our home Roman. My home. I'm going back to Colorado, I'm leaving you." I say grabbing my phone and coat

" Leaving?, Y/n you can't be serious. What's gotten into you?" He asks now he concerned after months.

"What's gotten into me?!?, This stupid character has gone to your head , the whole heel Tribal Chief thing is too much it's all you talk about, think about , Roman it's all you care about, I can't do this" I say fighting back tears.

"Baby, come on you know I care about you, it's just this is for us and setting up for our future" he says

"We don't have a future Roman, not with standing still that what our relationship is don't standing still we've been together 6 damn years and the only major step we've taken is moving in together, everything else gets put on hold for the WWE" I yell frustrated.

"So that's what this is about, you're leaving because I won't purpose, or knock you up, damn it Y/n , why can't you just be happy with where we are" he says

I didn't say anything I grabbed my bags and headed towards the door. I reached for the handle when I felt Roman grab my arm

"Don't do this, We can fix this" he says

"I don't think we can" I say tears now starting to make their way down my cheeks.

Before I knew it Roman had his lips on mine. He was kissing me actually kissing me, not the peck to my lips or cheek I've gotten used to .

One thing led to another and the next thing I know I'm half naked on the couch with Roman above me taking his shirt off. Exposed his perfect chest he knew I loved.

Sex is Roman was incredible, it was what I missed most , the intimacy.

"I love you Y/n " he whispers after he finishes inside me " I'll change. I'll give this all up if it means having you" he says

"Ro, I don't want you to give it up, I just want my boyfriend back , the man I fell head over heels for 6 years ago." I smile

" You got it . Done . I'm gonna put us above everything, you just have to do something first." He says.

"What's that?" I ask

"Marry me" he smiles.