#like i do think minors in general are allowed to want and even have sex (with each other obvs) but when it's a minor i personally follow it

[levil0vesyou]

Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild

[clownd1ck]

trouble, j. miller | chapter one

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.

chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it

also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL

word count: 2518

(series masterlist)

you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.

you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.

you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.

can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-

“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.

“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.

the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.

“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?

you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”

“excuse me?”

“the books aren’t in the right order.”

there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?

“did you ask for them in a certain order?”

the girl gives you a look. “no?”

“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.

the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.

“you’re fired.” she states.

“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.

on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.

you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.

he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.

“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.

your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.

a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”

“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.

“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.

“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.

“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”

“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.

“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?

“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”

“what club?”

“apocalypse.”

you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”

joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”

you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.

joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.

“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”

nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.

____

“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.

“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.

“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.

“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.

“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”

you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”

you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”

you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”

joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.

“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.

“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”

“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”

brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”

“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”

“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.

he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”

the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.

“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”

you nod your head at him.

“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”

joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.

“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.

the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”

“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”

as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.

“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.

you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”

lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”

you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”

“i don’t have to pay you for them?”

adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.

you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.

this was your life now.

____

a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO

taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmel @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

[strniohoeee]

Stainless

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is a virgin who so badly wants to have sex with Matt, but she’s scared. However when they’re alone in the triplets house things take a turn���.this is for the two requests I got for a virgin reader having soft sex with Matt🥹

Warnings⚠️: This is soft cute sex. Virginity lose, and that’s about it 🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: J’s Lullaby(darlin I’d wait for you) Delaney Bailey

⚠️This is an 18+ story, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Matt and I had been dating for roughly 7 months at this point. These past 7 months have been the best months of my life. I was surrounded by 3 people I loved, and making memories that would last forever

About five months into the relationship is when Matt and I finally decided to tell their fan base. Since I was always in their videos, some fans started to notice some vibes between the both of us.

Honestly I was petrified to tell them because a lot of their fans were super protective over them, and I’m a sensitive girl. I didn’t want to get any hate. Surprisingly we received way more love, and the occasional hate from some 14 year old, but nothing to make me feel any type of way.

Constantly Matt and I would watch shipping edits of us, some that even showed how we acted like a couple months before we even started dating. We loved it so much

Other times I would watch edits on my own of us, or just of Matt, and the comments had my jaw on the floor.

“I know he gives y/n the pounding of her life”

“He’s a skinny white boy. You know he be laying that pipeeeee”

“Poor y/n…..I know he be tearing her shit up”

Although these comments made me laugh, they also made me blush from embarrassment because they couldn’t have been further from the truth. I was a virgin, and Matt and I had only really made out and got handsy. Usually I’d break away and stop it, and he respected it and never said anything about it.

I knew he wanted to have sex because he’s a 20 year old man, and I for sure wanted to have sex because?? We’ll have you seen Matt??

But in the back of my mind I was so fucking nervous. I had never ever had sex. I’ve never given a handjob, a blow job, a hickey…..I’ve never even seen Matt’s dick.

Many times I would crave this intimacy, but I always allowed my fear to get to the best of me. However I was more than ready to have sex with the love of my life, Matt.

Matt and I were alone at their house since Chris and Nick had an event that Matt really could care less for. We spent the whole day together, and now we were currently in his room watching a movie

The whole time I kept thinking about having sex with Matt, and what it would be like. If I’d be bad, nervous or just out right not cut out for losing my virginity.

“Matt…” I said waiting for him to look over at me

“Yeah?” He said looking over and smiling at me

“Can I ask you something?” I said

“Of course baby” he responded back as he paused the movie

“Do you want to have sex with me?” I asked him, and to this his eyebrows raised

“In general or right now?” He asked laughing a little bit

“In general” I told him

“I mean it’s not something that’s necessarily crossed my mind. Of course I get urges, and want to have sex, but it’s not something my mind is always on.” He responded

“Well how come?” I asked him

“I mean I just care about you, and making you laugh and smile, and spending time with you. I just love to be in your company” he said back

“Oh….well have you ever thought of having sex with me…like at all??” I asked him

“I mean sure. Whenever we’ve had heated make out sessions it has crossed my mind. You know? It’s like I think to myself could this go further” he told me

“Oh…” I responded

“Have you thought of having sex with me?” He asked

“Mmm quite often actually” I said being completely honest

“Oh?” He said starting to blush

“But I know I always pull away before it goes any further” I told him

“Yeah, but I don’t mind at all” he said smiling at me for reassurance

“I guess I’m just scared” I said

“Scared of what?” He asked me with a head tilt

“Well I’m a virgin” I told him

“Oh” he said actually shocked

“Yeah, and I just never felt like I could move forward. Not because of you! I know I want to lose my virginity to you, but because I’m so afraid of being bad, or too nervous that it doesn’t work out” I said to him

“I get that. Losing your virginity is very intimate, and for sure scary. That’s valid” he said to me

“I was thinking maybe we could have sex” I told him

“Yeah of course” he said nodding his head and smiling

“Tonight” I then responded

“Tonight?” He said surprised

“Yes. I think I’m ready for tonight” I told him

“Okay. Then tonight it is” he said leaning over and kissing me

Matt and I had been making out for a good five minutes

“Are you doing okay?” He asked looking into my eyes

“Yes Matt I’m doing great” I said giving him a smile

Matt had kissed down to my neck. Leaving light kisses that were making me burn up inside. He had removed his shirt, and I removed mine as well

“Can I take your bra off?” He asked me leaning back a little bit

“Of course” I said shyly

Matt reaches behind as I lift up, so that he could unclip my bra. Slowly pulling it off of me, and allowing my breast to fall exposed

I started to blush. Never allowing a man to see me this way causing me to get a little shy

“Don’t get shy on me baby. You look perfect” he said giving me a sly smile

Matt had started to kiss my neck, and slowly went down to my breast. Massaging both breast before taking one into his mouth

“Oh Matt” I said in a whisper as my eyes fluttered shut

He then went down to the valley of my breast, and started to kiss down leaving sloppy kisses on my stomach. I was aching for his touch.

He kissed both hip bones before looking up at me

“Can I take your pants off?” He asked, and I nodded

He started to take my pants off as I lifted up a little for him to get them fully off. Matt in return removed his sweat pants as well

He went back to kissing above my underwear. This feeling alone left my hair rising and my thigh quivering

Matt laid next to me, and started to kiss me soon breaking away

“Okay baby. I have to stretch you out” he said. I turned my head towards him and agreed

Slowly he trailed his hand down to my underwear. Slightly dipping his hand in to massage my pelvic area before completely sticking his hand down my underwear

“Open wider baby” he told me, and I allowed my legs to open up more for him

“Perfect” he said, kissing me, and then he slid his hand all the way down coating his fingers in my arousal before bringing them back up to massage my clit

I just gasped and opened my mouth as Matt and I kept looking at each other

“Feeling okay?” He asked

“I feel so good Matt” I told him licking my now dry lips

Math started to rub my clit in circular motions. Allowing me to squirm and moan at this foreign feeling.

“Okay baby this may hurt” he said before sinking his middle finger to my entrance. He was looking into my eyes as he slowly started to insert his finger into me

This was a burning stretch I’ve never felt before, causing my eyes to shut and my brows to furrow

“Ow Matt” I said finally opening my eyes

“Too much? I can stop” he said reading my face

“No no keep going” I told him, and so he did. He slowly started to rock his fingers in and out curving them up to hit my G spot

“Oh fuck” I moaned out

“That feels so fucking good” I said as he started to rub my clit with his thumb

Slowly he inserted his ring finger. This burn was something that almost made me stop him, but I wanted this way too much for him to stop now.

Once he got the second finger in he started to pump in and out at a come here motion

“Oh Matt….ive never felt something like this” I told him as my mouth fell open

“Does it feel good?” He asked

“So so good” I said whispering the last part

He was slowly fingering me for 5 more minutes before he decided to stop

“Do you think you’re ready?” He asked me

“I think so” I told him, Matt removed his underwear and my mouth fell open

“Matt….I don’t know that that will fit in me” I said almost laughing

“Baby don’t boost my ego. It will fit” he said blushing and biting his lip

“This will hurt, so I’m going to go slow, and if it’s too much I’ll stop” he said

“Okay thank you” I whispered to him

Matt had both arms on either side of my head and was looking into my eyes

“Ready?” He asked one more time

“Yes Matt I’m very ready” I told him

Matt grabbed his dick with his right hand and slowly started to push the tip in. Looking up at you to read your face. He slowly started to push the tip in, and as he started to get in is when you winced

“Fuck Matt that hurts” I said gripping his left arm with my right hand

“Want me to stop?” He asked

“No no keep going” I told him

He slowly started to insert himself into me. Paying close attention to my face. Soon he was all the way in, and he let out a sigh

“So perfect,” he said, moving my hair out of my face. Matt was allowing my vaginal walls to relax around him before moving

“You can move” I told him, and so he did. Slowly sliding back and then in. My pussy was still stretching and burning around his dick

He was letting out little moans that were making me so wet.

Slowly Matt started to pick up his pace. Sliding in and out of me in such a delicious way

“Fuck Matt you can go a little faster” I told him

Matt started to thrust into me a little faster and I was completely losing my mind. If sex felt this good, why was I waiting this long?

“Matt this feels so good” I said moaning

“You feel so fucking good around me” he said moaning the last part

Matt had gotten a little more on his knees, and allowed his arms to bend. Coming down closer to me our chests were touching, and his head was right next to my ear

I could hear his pants into my ear as he was thrusting into me

“Fuck Matt you sound hot” I told him pulling his hair at the back of his head

“Yeah?” He said in a breathy tone

“Yes…so so hot” I said as I continued to pull at his hair

Matt continued to thrust into me becoming a sweaty and groaning mess above me

“I’m going to start rubbing your clit, and you’ll be able to cum in no time” he told me before snaking his right hand down to my clit starting to rub

“OH MY GOD” I screamed out at the intense sensation I was feeling

“Too much?” He asked looking at me

“No no just right keep going. Fuck Matt I think I’m going to cum” I told him as I started to clench on his cock causing him to moan

Matt was fucking into me at a good pace and rubbing my clit, going in between slow and fast circular motions

“Matt Matt Matt” I said scratching his back and clenching down on him harder

“Come on baby! You can do it for me” he said rubbing his fingers faster

“I’m going to cum. Fuck fuck fuck” I said shutting my eyes and throwing my head back even more

“Come on. Come on give it to me” he said into my ear

“FUCKKKKK MATTT” I screamed out as I started to convulse and tremble. My orgasm completely washing over me. I was seeing white and my legs were shaking as I was cumming so hard. Slowly I started to come down my from my high with heavy breathing and dry lips

Matt pulled out of me when I stopped twitching around him. I felt weird without his dick in me. He started to pump his cock

“Fuck I’m gonna cum” he said kissing my lips

He pulled away and his lower abdomen started to contract as his mouth fell and his brows furrowed. He looked into my eyes as he came all over his hand and my lower stomach. Slowly coming down from his high and rolling onto his back next to me

“Matt that was amazing” I said looking over at him

“Was it? You don’t have to lie” he said catching his breath

“No matt. It was amazing, and you were so careful with me I appreciate it” I said rolling over to my side and kissing him on the cheek

“Anything for my pretty lady. I love you” he said looking over at me

“I love you too Matt” I said smiling at him

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Follow me let’s shower” he said and grabbed my hands

When I got off the bed my legs completely gave out on me and I almost fell to the ground

“Oh my god Matt…my legs are fucking jello” I said laughing as he grabbed me and helped me walk to his bathroom

“I’m sorry baby” he said also laughing

“I can now say Matt Sturniolo has made me weak in the knees physically” I responded laughing

“Shut up” he said all shyly as he turned on the hot water and let me step in first

We had showered together, and then spent the night watching movies until we eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

The End

I hope you guys enjoyed this one! And for the two people that requested this I hope I didn’t disappoint, and I’m so sorry it took forever for me to get this out 🥹❤️❤️

-J💅🏽

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about Price and the kinks he likes to indulge in

Pairing: John Price x Top Male Reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, SDH, cock cages, exhibitionism, oral sex, dom! Male reader, sub!price

Thinking about Price with a tiny cock who loves it when you coo at it, when you easily clasp his small length between your thumb and index finger while he’s perched in your lap and riding you, who loves it when you go as far flicking it or having to beg and plead for you to touch him until he cums from the sheer humiliation of it.

“Please please please” he stutters out, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed and drool dripping down his chin as he desperately grabs onto your wrist.

“What do you want pretty? You say trying to suppress the smile on your face as you allow him to lead your hand between his legs.

“Please please touch my dick” He sobs out, eyes squeezing shut and head lolling back.

“Your dick? But there’s nothing to touch here,” you say still trying to suppress the smile on your face before you continue speaking “oh you mean this little thing?” You say, going as far as clasping his small length between your thumb and index finger. “This what you wanted huh?” All it takes is a couple of strokes for him to reach his peak, body slumping in your embrace while repeatedly thanking you for being generous enough to touch his little cock.

Thinking about Price with a tiny cock, who you force to wear cock cages under his uniform. Price isn’t really one for indulging in his kinks while in public but the cock cages he wears are so small, barley noticeable. You love riling him up by whispering suggestive things into his ear or brushing a hand over his crotch just to watch him flinch. You’ll even go as far as suggesting unlocking it for him, have him be fully hard in public knowing no one will even bat an eye at it because who would even notice a cock of such small size.

Eventually you’ll whisk him away to some private quarters, sprawl him out on a mattress with his cock in your hand.

“Look at you pretty” you whisper into his ear “aren’t you embarrassed to be acting like this?” You say referring to the way he’s shuddering under your grip and sobbing into your neck while you’re stroking him. “All I have to do is make fun of your little cock and you’ll cum, isnt that tight angel?”

He doesn’t respond but you can feel his body going taut, blunt nails digging into your hip as he inches closer to his release. “Cum for me pretty, wanna see how good I can make this little cock feel” and really that’s all it takes before he’s spurting pathetic ropes of cum all over your hand.

Thinking about having Price down on all four, and sucking you off. You’ll be condescendingly stroking his hair with a look of faux worry painted up on your face as you watch the way tears roll down his flushed cheeks, lips stretched around your dick doing his best to take your entire length down his throat.

Every once a while you’ll be dropping a comment like “of course this is hard for you” you say while stroking his hair before your fingers dig into the thick mane and yank on it, “you’ve never done anything like this before, never seen a cock this big since yours is so small isn’t that right?” You say through a shaky laugh, hearing the way he chokes as you shove your cock further down his mouth and God he loves it so much, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as he pathetically ruts down onto the floor in desperate search for friction while choking on your dick.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Royal Pain In The Ass

Yandere Male Alpha x Male Omega Reader (CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, INCEST, non-con, male reader, a/b/o, ass eaten like it is groceries, blowjob, marking, biting, knotting, musk, general yandere behavior, necromancy, assassination, minor character death, angst, pain, violent sex, breeding, forced feminization, size difference) Word Count: 2.9k (This is probably the worst thing I have ever written, but I think I covered all the appropriate warnings. Sorry for any mistakes I did proofread, but I did not have this beta read.)

Your father, King Esmer, had been among the wisest and most powerful kings in all the world. He had led decisive victories in war, chosen brilliant advisors, and knew when to rule kindness and when to rule with a bit of a sterner hand. Overall he had been much loved by all the classes and had truly united his kingdom, alphas, betas, and omegas alike. But as he grew older many in the royal court began to fear that your brother, Prince Vairthold, would become a tyrant of a monarch. He had always been a bit of a demanding brat, but as he grew so too did his arrogance and entitlement, and when he presented as an alpha he became an accomplished warrior, his powerful muscles and keen instinct allowing him to become a terror on the field. It did nothing to staunch the growth of his ego. Your father could not see it, as blinded as he was by denial and love for his first born, so he would not hear of it when his advisors wanted him to choose another heir. Perhaps one more malleable and temperate such as you, his younger son, an omega. “He will grow into the role,” he would always say, “I had to learn and change a lot too when I first started. Besides, most lords just would not accept an omega ruler.” And that would be the end of the discussion. But once Esmer had passed his successor wasted no time in changing how things were to be done. They were, in the grand scheme of things, very minor changes at first. Statues built, mundane orders carried out, nothing too unusual or threatening. But within months your older sibling allowed a dark sorcerer in the court in a high advisory position. Dark magic was not something that had been allowed in any capacity previously, but your brother had searched long to create someone to place in this position. When he finally had the magic user that he so desired he became not just arrogant and demanding, but colder and crueler as well. He did not go out slaughtering people, though laws did become more draconian, with several inmates disappearing in the dead quiet of night. He also revoked many of the laws and rights that omegas had previously enjoyed under his predecessors, making them basically under the ownership of their alpha or beta relatives unless they were single and had no family. You, being an omega yourself, were almost never allowed out of your brother’s sight, even being forced to stay in his bedroom. The only time you were not with him was when he was off in the darkness of night consorting with his dark advisor, and even then he left the bulkiest beta knights he could find to guard the door and make sure you had zero chance of escape. Your older sibling had always been far too possessive over you, some people, including your late father, might have mistaken his behavior as merely how a protective alpha is supposed to act around their smaller omega family members. But you knew better, you could tell there was something impure about the way you caught him leering at you, something off about how he had kept away any and all courters, something wicked in the way his expression changed when you were in heat and he caught a whiff of your scent. He had never been particularly mean to you, perhaps a bit of bullying here and there, but ever since he had changed the laws and the status of omegas he had been a lot more gruff with you. Not tolerating any dissent. If you resisted he would not hesitate to slap you across the face, but if you cooperated and did not complain he would often reward you with little gifts for your good behavior. Over time you learned never to complain, and so far nothing terrible had happened, but you did not trust his intentions at all. You dreaded to think what would happen if you had your heat now when he was always so close. He had not just forced you to sleep in his bedroom but to make a nest for yourself there too. You knew what it implied and you did not like it one bit. But a few months into his rule, as he started ignoring his court less and less, right as your heat was starting, he died. He was assassinated in his sleep. You were not involved at all in his murder, how could you be when you were constantly under the watch of him or his guards, but you did not raise a huge fuss over it either. You had been freed. Just in time. But it was only a delay of the inevitable. Soon after you had been crowned all those who had been involved with the assassination died, one by one. It was as if there had been some curse on the act of killing your brother and there was fear and dismay among the court and kingdom as a whole. You had never really been raised to rule, you mostly went by the advice of your council, they may have been using you as a puppet king to talk through, but they were good honest people who had wanted the best for the kingdom. With so few of them left you were buckling under the weight of your responsibility. But it would not be yours for long. After the last traitor of your sibling had been done away with, a few months into your reign and right as your heat was starting again, your brother and his wizard, who had gone missing after your brother’s murder, came sauntering into the castle, right in front of the throne as you were holding publicly addressing the problems of your lower-born subjects. There were whispers and murmurs among the guard and the present nobles. He looked different, blueish grey skin, dark rings around his now violet eyes, and his bright blonde hair had faded a bit, but he was still unmistakable as anyone but Vairthold. The deceased king. You, and everyone else present, were shocked and speechless. Had he faked his death? Why did he look so odd? Terror and hopelessness filled your heart as you knew immediately he had been responsible for the deaths of those involved in the plot against him and you were sure you would be next. He ordered the guards to remove everyone from the room except you. They hesitated briefly but decided that if your brother was not dead, and he seemingly had the ability to kill anyone who had tried to stand against him, then he was still their rightful king and they better be quick about following his orders. Vairthold smirked at you as they did his bidding while slowly approaching you, causing you to slink back against the throne with your arms in front of you protectively. The guards had left along with his magic using companion, so you were alone with him and he could do whatever he wanted with you. He wordlessly plucked the crown from your trembling form and placed it atop his head instead. “Awe, don’t be scared, little prince. I was mad at you for not avenging me, but I know you are just a weakling little omega doing what you were told. I am sorry I left you like I did, you must have been so terrified, but I wanted to become a lich, and I had to get rid of all those who would have stopped me.” You could not bear to meet his gaze, your lip trembled in fear, and your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. A lich was an immortal abomination made of magic that few believed in. If he truly was one then this couldn’t get any worse. Except it could, because under all the fear and anxiety there was another scent that had just graced your brother’s nostrils. Your heat. He began nuzzling his nose at your neck and underarms. In a rare act of defiance, perhaps forgetting exactly what he was for a moment, you tried to push away his head with all your might but he just chuckled and pinned your hands to the side. He had never been this brazen before. “It’s good that you’re feisty sometimes, shows that you’re strong, bet you’ll make us lots of strong heirs. I’ll forgive you for being uncooperative this time, putting you in front of subjects today when you’re in heat is bound to make your head a bit off. I should kill them all.” At his mention of heirs you redoubled your efforts to push him off, to somehow wiggle out of his grip, there was no way you could let this monster put anything inside of you. “N-no, this is my throne n-now! Y-y-you have to stop!” It was a pathetic display really, but a bit surprising coming from you. He smacked you with enough force to sting, but you knew he was not really trying to hurt you, just trying to remind you of your place. “Awe, that’s too cute, if you wanted the throne all you had to do was ask~ I will let you use it later.” He quickly disrobed and ripped off all of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath his hungry gaze. All your squirming and panicked pleas did nothing to stop him bending down and assaulting your neck with sloppy licks and kisses. You could smell the musk practically radiating off of him, it was making you dizzy, his smell had never interested you in the slightest and it still didn’t You could tell by his pheromones that he was a virile and fertile alpha, in any other alpha it may be attractive, but it only made your brother more terrifying. He did not have the same opinion of your scent, it had been driving him wild for years, but now was the first time he could freely indulge himself. He alternated between sniffing and licking your underarms and neck, he had longed for this for years and no one could stop him now. After making sure that you both utterly reeked of one another, he got between your legs on the ground in front of the throne and put your legs over his shoulder. Your mind felt distressed to the core, but your body had different plans, you could not control how it reacted. Especially when under the direct affections of such a powerful alpha during heat. You felt disgusted with yourself when you realized your cock was rock hard and felt slick start to leak out onto the throne beneath you, but your brother was thrilled. The smell emanating from your desperate little virgin hole was divine and he wasted no time at all in pulling your ass close to his face and sliding his tongue right in. The flavor was even better, so full of your pheromones, the taste was so intimately yours and he knew he was the only one that ever had or ever would get the chance to savor it. It was a royal treasure that only he and he alone was worthy enough for. A small involuntary moan escaped your attempt at stifling it and encouraged him to keep going. You really couldn’t help it, you were so grossed out, scared, and overstimulated that you were crying even as you instinctively spread your legs wider for him to get better access. You could feel his warm tongue sliding all around your entrance, stretching and warming it up. He pulled his face away from your ass and sniffed and licked at your precious little nuts, they were so tiny and delicate, unlike his big alpha balls. The scent you had there drove him wild. He started sucking on them before licking up your relatively small shaft and sucking your cock until he felt you buck into his mouth and cum all over his tongue. He moaned softly as he swallowed it all down. “I’m disgusting. That was wrong,” you muttered under your breath as you stared blankly at nothing in particular. “How could someone so sweet and perfect be disgusting? How could you think something that felt so good could possibly be wrong? Don’t worry princess, I know something that will feel so good you won’t even be able to form thoughts like that~” That was enough to jolt you from your post-orgasmic daze and revulsion, as your brother leaned over you, greedy hands busy groping and caressing up and down your sides. “I’m not a princess!!” You shrieked as you rocketed upwards from the throne and headbutt your lustful sibling as hard as you could. The unexpected impact caused even a large alpha such as himself to stumble backwards. You did not waste a fraction of a second to exploit the opening and started to get up past him. But he was no stranger to physical combat and knew how to recover quickly. He grabbed your arm and pulled you over to himself with great force. He sat on the cushioned throne and lifted you easily, forcing you to face him as you straddled his lap. When you felt the force with which he was grabbing you and saw the violence in his eyes as a small trickle of blood flowed from his nose you immediately regret assaulting him. “Let me be VERY clear, I am the king. And you ARE my princess. And when we are married you WILL be my queen. And there is nothing you can do about it.” You instinctively whimpered softly at the anger of the bristling alpha. He ignored it and focused on putting you in your place, submitting to him and impaled on his cock. Vairthold lifted you up and slammed you down on his cock. You screamed loud as it stretched and hurt in ways you had not conceived of. You knew he had stretched you. You knew there would certainly be blood. Even your slick couldn’t make this painless when he was driving into you so forcefully while you were so tense. “This could have been a lot easier on you, but you wanted to play rough!” With his hands gripping your sides painfully he lifted you up and slammed you back down on his dick repeatedly, thrusting upwards into you each time for added force. With each thrust you whimpered and yelped out in pain, your mind breaking a bit by bit. It felt like you were being stabbed. His nails began digging in, bruising your sensitive flesh as he only escalated the force he was using, you thought you were going to pass out, you even began to welcome it. “Puh-plea-ease, p-please. I’m s-s-sorry. I’ s-sorry. I-I’m sorry.” You sniffled and stammered, tears and snot running unattractively down your face, though your “partner” didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Say... You’re... My... Princess…” He spat each word through gritted teeth, emphasizing each by painfully pulling you down on his cock. “I-i’m your p-pr-prin-ce-cessss.” You struggled to form the words but once you had the change was immediate. He began slowing down to a much more merciful pace before pulling your trembling form close to him. It was still extremely painful, given the abuse your hole had just endured, but you tried to not focus on it. You could not bear to look at him so you just buried your crying face into his chest instead. Vairthold took this as a sign that you were willingly seeking comfort from him as your alpha so he slowed down a bit more. As he slowly slid his cock in and out of you, a mixture of slick with a bit of blood leaking down his shaft, he licked, kissed, and nuzzled the sensitive scent gland on your neck to try to comfort you. You had hurt him, but you had submitted to your king, so you didn’t deserve anymore pain. “You’re being such a good girl for me, I am gonna put so many babies in that belly.” You sobbed a bit louder but made no movements against him. He stroked your back soothingly as his knot swelled up inside you, tying the both of you together right before his cock spasmed and began filling you up with seed. As he came he bit down on your neck hard, officially marking you as his mate. By the mercy of the gods you finally passed out, sparing you the pain of being conscious while tied to your alpha. King Vairthold licked your neck clean of the blood he had just drawn and cuddled you protectively, his instincts telling him to keep his mate safe at all costs. When his knot finally allowed him to, he slid out of your ass before bundling you up and carrying upstairs to your private chambers. He cleaned you off carefully and laid you in your bed, before sliding in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist. As he lay there with his princess in his arms he could scarcely wait for the preparations to turn you into a lich to be completed. He was going to keep you with him for all eternity.

[darlingofvalyria]

❝Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.❞

[ Never piss off your wife. She might acquire a living, breathing punishment for you. Aka, Daemon made a mistake and you're his punishment ft. Rhaenyra stay winning. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 1,985 ] | Daemyra x Sugar Baby!Reader

contains— sugar mommy x sugar baby, open relationship/understandings, toxic relationship??? allusions of cheating, established realtionship - nsfw: oral, p & v sex, v & v sex, pet names mainly: darling, sweet girl, good girl, praise, male masturbation shshhs - you piss the shit outta daemon (as you should), slight angst? - sort of daemon-focused since it's in his pov, but rhae's the only one allowed to touch you lol - no targcest bc its the modern world and that would be weird.

a/n— i dont want to talk about it, okay. comment/reblog/like at will ❤️️

Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.

With your soft noises encouraged to heighten in pleasure whenever Rhaenyra had you over- and after initial test drive of the first few times, stretched in months to weeks to days - she had you over all the time, at random times of the day. Any time the boys or his girls weren't by (being taken care of in the park, Harwin or Laena's visitation rights, Rhaenys wanting to take them off for Corlys weekend fishing trips)- your mewls turned unbridled shouts of pleasure now filled the high-rise.

You permeate the space like a cigarette stain; you didn't even need to be godsdamned present anymore. It starts with your perfume- it's lighter than Rhaenyra's but heavier in sweetness. Vanille. A touch of it that he's foul to recognise. Lipstick stains on his wife's neck, her blouse, where he can imagine your lips drag and bite and suckle because the kids are too young to understand and it's not like he's not one to leave his own marks, but there's a thunderous boil that drums in his veins when he realises you're leaving your own on his wife.

You fill the nooks and crannies like a plague, and you don't even care about him.

Worse, you taunt him.

And it's not like he could say anything to Nyra.

After all, the two of them had an understanding after he got caught with a minor dalliance of his own. It was a one time thing, and he only got blown, but it was enough for a talking to. A mutual agreement that was really just him pacifying his wife.

He really should have focused on the crooks of how upset she had been, on the gleam in her eyes when he thought she had simmered down. That her fire, though not as brightly lit, was still very much burning.

"You can have any sweet thing that you want, husband, as long as you keep them away from the kids. As long as you keep it quiet and away from me. I do not want the details." Nyra's mouth had curled. He remembered. She took up the space behind him, wine-kissed as she was, her fingers dancing on his shoulders and kneading at the tough centre of the nape of his neck. His eyelids fluttered and he barely heard her next words.

"In return, you will not make a fuss when I take mine, hm?"

Daemon had laughed. He remembered that. A soft, more air than sound laugh.

He took her hand to his lips and smirked up at her. Shark-like. Baiting. Daring. "As you wish, wife. In return, you can tell me all about it."

There was a strong part of Daemon that didn't think she'd actually do it.

Rhaenyra had smiled that smile that reminded him of godswoods and Valyrian necklaces, passed down from generation after generation. A silent vow louder drew from blood.

There was a strong part of Daemon who thought his wife was jesting, making a bluff, a toss of a coin.

Until you arrived with a sweet smile and a tinkling little laugh.

Until he had found his wife with her face buried between your legs, your hands— freshly done nails and glimmering rings, new, he later found out from the bank transcripts — and your back arched, your mouth gaping in a silent scream as you come undone.

It took a minute for you to see him, so stuck in that pleasure that broke and free-fell through you several times because 'Nyra didn't want to let up, calling you her sweet girl, her darling girl, that's it, you can take more, can you? aren't you my good girl?

When your thick lashed-eyes finally met his darkened lilac gaze, lipstick still perfect red, still perfectly plump and moist, your mouth curls into a charming little smile and said, "Oh, hello there."

Rhaenyra looked up, and at the smirk on her face, your spend all around her ruined lipstick and chin— Daemon knew she wanted him to see. Wanted him to know. It's a bullet shot down his spine, straight to his cock. It's a cold thrill and grasped fingers around his throat with rings nestled to make indents.

It's a violent blend of jealousy and lust, and the cocktail emotion rages in him, swirls and punctures.

There is a bite between Rhaenyra and Daemon, a fiery edge that often saunters the edges, crosses a new line. But each time, after each rough push, they come back to one another; a tether of becoming, of pulling taunt. Once again united. They are assured in each other's positions; you can play with anyone but you always come back to me.

Rhaenyra has won this one. She had snapped, pulled, and arose victorious.

But they always come together. And often, enjoyed sharing.

What Daemon forgets sometimes is that he is a younger brother, and really, Rhaenyra was the eldest and the sole eye of her father. When righteous selfishness burns with a petty need to make her husband suffer, it heels hard.

"She is mine, husband," she whispers at the edge of his lips, riding him through a slick, sex-haze after you had left. Her thighs slap against his own, his hands harsh on the indents of her waist as she rode him with no abandon, uncaring for his pleasure this time, selfishness the game this time, but the renewed roughness brought him to the early days of their marriage. That unbridled want, a clash of teeth and skin and raw, burning lust.

There is a growl and a hiss, a moan and a gasp; blood has beaded through bitten flesh and bruises are blooming. This is fucking from the high of a third party dancing on their marriage.

And Rhaenyra's refusal of you to him made him throb.

She had seen him high-strung, plotted him to be harder than a box of rocks, already harshly yanking his tie in anticipation of having his wife and you with your fox gazes and sire song, but Rhaenyra had turned away from him, ignored him, and slapped your thigh before kissing your cheek.

"Come back next time, darling, my husband is home." It was said in a tease, a lighthearted joke between two people he was not a part of, but he knew his wife; recognised the bite. The smugness.

And by god, you were in on it as you thrilled a laugh and slid your gaze to his, undressing and fucking him with your eyes as you bit your lip. Your words are to Rhae, a hand on her cheek and a thumb rubbing at the corner of her lip, but your gaze is devouring him. He wasn't a green boy, but you seemed amused and feral for the hard-line of his manhood. As if you can picture what he would feel like buried deep inside your guts, and enjoyed it.

"Am I just going to be yours then, hm?" you asked amusedly, finally turning to her.

Nyra turned her gaze then, to him, and smirked. "You, I will not share. A fitting punishment, don't you think? Some jewels are meant for one alone."

And you had laughed, the gall of you, taking your bag (new one too,a matching one with his wife) and walking right past him. Your scent- his wife's fucking scent, the smell of her cunt on you and his dick throbbed - devoured him as you left him with a wink and a quiet, "too bad."

You had not even gone inside the elevator of their penthouse before a growl tore through his chest and he had met Rhaenyra's thundering footsteps with his own, their tongues and teeth clashing for dominance, ripping apart clothes, wanting to bury each other in the other's skin.

Now, she reaches her peak with a yell and a full body shudder, her cunt clenching and squeezing, demanding his release, and he jolts with her with a swear of his own, his cum flooding her in thick, sharp bursts.

Even then, as Rhae smiled sweetly, post-peak glow simpering her fire, sweetening her kisses against the side of his face, his neck, running a tongue over the worst of the bruises and bites— Daemon thought, surely, now that his wife had reached post-coital bliss and forgiven him, punishment had been had? That he was free to have you, to play with you?

But no. You were off limits. Hers and hers alone. A punishment that keeps on giving as the echoes of you exist in his life in patterns he was starting to fucking loath.

The scent in the bath- the echo of the warmth of someone having used it recently, someone who wasn't his wife, in the pillows of his living room, the barest smudge of makeup as if your face had been pushed against them. In the snacks and drinks that he, nor his wife, nor their children, particularly like, fill up the corners of his kitchen. The lipstick stains on his wife, the running mill in the bank statements (the new necklaces, new dresses, new fucking lingerie he hasn't seen), and when he had finally had enough, shoving through his own house to talk to his wife that the least she could do while she was fucking you was be allowed to be there, he hears it then—

Your shouts of pleasure falling into sighs into giggles, and when he slows to his marital bedroom, you are there— breathing heavily, alive, real— naked and slicked, a goddess divine, with Rhaenyra inside you in more ways than one, baring her teeth in a victorious grin before falling into a laugh at his face.

"Am I allowed to have him now, is that it?" you ask, seemingly innocent. One of the new necklaces in his statements on your neck and nothing else. Chest moving in shuddering breath having just orgasmed and yelling it.

"Your choice, sweet girl," Rhae purrs, leaning back over your form to run a finger from the valley of your breasts to your stomach to your clit that turns your shudders to an outright jolt, then a sigh, when she starts fingering you in front of him. The squelch is obscene, and Daemon is hard, and he is not a fucking boy but he is starting to hate you as much as he wants to fuck the lazy smirk on your face, pleasure so obviously building once again. Soft sighs, mewls, escaping full, raw lips.

"I kind of... want him to watch a little. Just- ah! Nyra there, please - sit still and pretty." You smirk, giving him a pouty air kiss. The urge to strangle you sings in his blood. Hold you down and fuck you until you're better pliant, sweeter, fucking cooing for him. Fuck the spoil Rhaenyra has ingrained in you away.

You turn to the silver-haired woman on top of you, now on her haunches, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. She held his gaze as she pressed her tongue flat against before taking a glorious, heavy-gazed lick.

Daemon swallows.

"Is that- ahhh, okay? Nyra, hmm? Please?" You sigh ever so sweetly, kindly. Though you're ridiculously spoiled, you were a good girl, following so obediently. If his cock didn't feel like it was burning to be inside your mouth, he would have revelled in it.

You squirm, turning back to him to hold his gaze while his wife started to fuck you through her tongue and fingers.

Someone up there was taking a piss on him. He pulls out his cock, a grunt and a curse, because fuck it, fuck you in particular— as the two of you continued on while keeping eye contact with him.

He took one step closer and Rhaenyra hissed.

"Whatever you want, baby." Nyra smirks against your pussy as he tugged at himself, teeth bared. "You're his punishment after all."

[mixes-archive]

Hello! Can you write some hcs of könig with a short chubby so? I don't mind if there nsfw or sfw thank you!

König x short & chubby reader HCs (SFW & NSFW)

A/N: say less.

SFW

Mans is WHOOPED the first time he laid eyes on you

I’m 100% sure I already said this in my chubby reader HCs, but he absolutely prefers bigger people

That said, your height, or lack thereof, just makes you much cuter in his eyes

Can and will carry you everywhere. Claims it’s because your tiny legs couldn’t possibly hold up with him, but he just does it to feel closer to you and low-key show you off to other people.

BRO DO NOT LET ME GET STARTED ON CUDDLES

König will hug you in the most awkward, and sometimes backbreaking, ways possible

I’m talking 90° bend so he can lean his face into the crook of your neck or tiddies if you have them

Regularly leans his arm on your head and just lets his whole body weight drop onto you

He’s a bit of a pain in the ass

But at the same time he does really sweet things

For example, if you had a struggle finding clothes that fit and suited you, he would regularly gift you handmade clothes tailored to your measurements and taste

He can’t sew for shit, but his Oma fucking loves you and just keeps making them for you (he’s a tiny bit jealous that he doesn’t get handmade clothes all the time too). She also coincidentally has the exact same measurements as you, so you’re in luck if you like 60s to 90s fashion (very hip grandmama)

Defends you with his life and pride

Would kill anyone making fun of you (only he is allowed to do that)

Please also make jokes about his height, he’ll giggle like a schoolgirl and maybe kick his feet while you both make jokes at each others expense back and forth

“Hey there, short stack” (lovingly)“Beat it, giraffe” (affectionately)

Would NEVER let you be insecure, König is constantly raving about how good you look/ how much he appreciates you as a person/ etc…

Please wear Tracht, it will make him love you 10x more

Loves giving you massages (when you ask why, he just says: “klein und weich” with a completely straight face)

When on missions, König will constantly complain about “wanting to go back to his pretty parter” and how much he misses holding them in his arms. It’s very annoying, but also kind of cute

NSFW - Minors DNI after this point

Whatever your sex is, he would give anything to be in between those thighs

Treats you like a porcelain doll during sex because of your height

At the same time tempted to go rough to watch your body jiggle

Absolutely mesmerizing and impressed when you ride him

He’s a little worried at first because he’s pretty big, but that quickly fades when he sees how gorgeous you are, so vulnerable and exposed to him

Just constantly praising you, he couldn’t degrade you even if you asked him to

Doesn’t matter what your gender is, tight thigh highs turn him on sm

Will fuck you then and there if he can

Never not facing you

Addicted to your face, expressions and body in general

König would even hold back if you told him to go rough on you, because he thinks you’re gonna break if he moves wrong

Absolutely holds you in the air while doing it to “prove a point”

“Do it jiggle tho?” Is absolutely him I can’t describe it any better

[inklore]

🩸 — 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍!

since the spooky season is fast approaching, and as a little kinktober appetizer, @psychedelic-ink and i have decided to do a little writing challenge to get us all excited and in the mood to be gripping the sheets from the spooky thrills of course.

and to keep this fun we have given you many many options! we have compiled a twelve day prompts list you can go by, or if that's not your thing we have listed twenty three different pick and choose options to create whatever kind of fic you want, even if you want to do half the days daily prompts but switch out this prompt dialogue for that au or trope or kink, you can literally do whatever your heart desires!

THE RULES.

the challenge will go on from the 19th - 30th of this month. you can do as many or as little amount of days as you choose.

any fandoms are welcome, literally any characters, ships, but please no rpf.

no minors should be interacting with let alone posting for this challenge.

dark content, light content, dubcon/noncon, is all welcomed but please tag everything accordingly. grooming, underage, and incest however are not allowed.

there are no word limits but please use that readmore.

tag #hauntedhoedown so we can read and reblog your work!

DAY ONE: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

DAY TWO: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

DAY THREE: inspired by your favorite lana del rey song (if not a lana fan then any fav song of yours) + stalker / yandere au or love triangle gone wrong

DAY FOUR: artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

DAY FIVE: gothic au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.” + a masquerade au or a good ol' priest au

DAY SIX: animal shapeshifter au + "he's a monster" + "he's perfect"

DAY SEVEN: stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

DAY EIGHT: cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

DAY NINE: “do you like it when i bleed for you?” + the toxic exes trope or cult au

DAY TEN: zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

DAY ELEVEN: black swan au or inspired by your fav psychological thriller + “they die for love, you kill for it.”

DAY TWELVE: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

if following the above isn't your thing and you want to pick and choose yourself that's great! we also highly rec this random generator if you wanna live life by the edge, each category has 23 options to pick and choose from so customize the generator accordingly!

AUs:

steampunk / cyber punk

fairytale retelling

revenge

mythology / monster

virtual reality

gothic

taboo (see great options here)

slasher

game gone wrong

witchcraft

addams family

bonnie and clyde

spy / secret agent

assassins

x-files

circus / carnival

hitch hiking

basement wife

time travel

urban legend(s)

american horror story inspired

vampire / supernatural

pirate / mermaid

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

"do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."

"i can see how badly you want this, so i'm going to make sure you get it." 

“this fear you feel? it won't last.”

“you are mine, whether you agree or not.”

“why do you keep following me?”

"i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together."

"you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

"i'm so close, can you feel it?"

"tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it, no matter the cost."

"you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left."

"i want to see you bleed."

"they're dead...because of you."

“i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

“everything i've done.. every horrible atrocity, it's been for you.”

"it's just a little blood."

“don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”

“i would burn the world for you.”

"this is so fucked up." "you like it."

"finders keepers."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

"tell me you want me back. tell me i'm forgiven."

"you're a monster." "that's never stopped you before."

"i've killed for you, who else can say that?"

TROPES:

mob / mafia

soft!dark

dubcon / noncon

soulmate / fated mates

mind control / telepathy

cheating

final girl

once is not enough

haunted manor

dark academia

enemies to lovers

haunted object

vengeful ghost

coven

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

unrequited love

creation / creator vs monster

'i'll find you in every universe / century'

reverse harem

cursed / fuck or die

curiosity killed the cat

theatre phantom

fate worse than death

KINKS:

biting

corruption / authoritarian

somnophilia

begging

dacryphilia

breath play

knife play / blood play

jealousy / sharing / possessive

aphrodisiacs

hunter / prey

humiliation / degradation

mirror sex

deprivation / immobilized / bondage

costume

size

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

body worship

shotgunning / swallowing / facial

gagging

torture / surrender

hate sex / make up sex / phone sex

magical healing [redacted]

soft!dom / pleasure!dom

ETC PROMPTS:

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

1970s porno filming (turned into a blood bath)

touch her and die except who the hell are you and why are you obsessed with me?

a trip to the circus (or carnival) ends with you stuck there...forever

you just inherited this creepy mansion where people where murdered what could go wrong?

a ritual gone wrong and now i'm bound to a demon

if 'this person' ever found out about this they would kill both of us (literally)

oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

passionate professor tells me to prove my devotion to the craft / class by doing something insane

we're the last people on the planet and you will be mine

daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late

i got casted out of my world and ended up wounded and bloodied in your backyard, convince me why i shouldn't destroy your world out of anger

vampire has a taste for specific blood and looks like you have it

the creepy neighbor is too hot to be insane, right?

i keep seeing them in my dreams and i wake up with bruises and marks on my skin, it's definitely just wild dreams, right?

loving you is easier than hating you

got stranded in some little town that seems so cute, until night hits

'this person' ordered me to kill you but i actually think i'm in love with you

my lover is wearing the same costume as you and i can't tell the difference but i'm pretty sure it's them i'm fucking in this closet...pretty sure

confessing to a murder via a silly little ghost story around a campfire (but someone reads through the lies)

how far would you go for love? for the one you love?

in a past life you were the cause of my death so i'm here to exact revenge now that i've found you

we're at a fun little horror movie reenactment except people are really dying

we tried to make this writing challenge as fun and very 'choose your own adventure-like' as much as possible because we know how hard it is to stay motivated when doing these things.

so please feel free to use any and all of the prompts, tropes, kinks, etc as you wish. we're just super excited to see what ya'll come up with!!

so good luck and stay slutty spooky <3

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

summary: opening up about your insecurities is a daunting thing, but suna lets you know you’re in good hands

pairing: suna rintarou x afab! reader

warnings:  smut/ comfort, minors dni; skin-related insecurities (acne, scars, bumps, etc) with comfort, unprotected sex (use condoms, don’t get a kid or a std), pet names (doll, pretty), marking, very wholesome spice if you can say that jsjsh, also very self indulgent; i wanted to name it ‘under my skin’ first, so now i have mirotic stuck in my head

happy birthday, rin!! ♡

haikyuu masterlist

Flickering colours illuminated your dimly lit living room in arrhythmic sequences, the voices of actors paired with underlying music bouncing around the apartment. Next to you, snuggled up under a cosy blanket with you, was your boyfriend, his eyes fixed on the TV but keeping you close to his side with an arm curled around your middle. 

Leaning against his sturdy body, you sunk further into the hoodie you had stolen from his side of the closet earlier and you inhaled a noseful of the scent clinging to it, a familiar mixture of Suna’s body wash and cologne. Underneath you, you could feel his muscles flex and relax with every breath and every laugh and, inevitably, your mind drifted from the scenes on the screen to the man next to you.

There was no doubt about it, when it came to boyfriends, you somehow managed to snatch up the price catch all for yourself. Suna was attentive, caring and funny; he always checked in on you, brought food when he knew you hadn’t eaten, sent you photos, voice messages and even flowers when he was away for work and generally pestered you to take care of yourself. 

Besides all of that, he was also, of course, ridiculously beautiful. Be it his well-built body showing through every outfit he wore, whether it was loungewear, work out clothes or a suit, or the defined features of his face, the sharp slant of his olive eyes only being the highlight, he was sure to garner attention. And he did. Quite a lot, actually. The fantaken videos of him sighted on the streets or the edits you scrolled past on your timeline definitely proved your point.

Still, Rin never made you feel unwanted, the opposite, really. You could be lazing around on the couch when Rin made it seem as if you were posing for the cover of Vogue, bending down to shower you in kisses as his hands wandered like he had no control over them. Or the way he’d sidle up behind you, leaning his weight onto you like an overgrown cat just to show you dumb videos while you go about what you were doing.

Your own mind, however, was not always as kind to you as your boyfriend.

Case and point, as you looked up at him and studied his sharp jaw and smooth skin, your thoughts started heading to a darker place, one you normally kept under tight lock and seal. Certainly, no matter how genuine his compliments were, there was no way he actually meant any of them, only trying to make you feel better about yourself. After all, what would someone like him see in someone like you? 

A tap to the tip of your nose pulled you back into reality, blinking to see bright green eyes sparkling down at you. The arm around your waist adjusted its grip, allowing you to turn towards him better but holding you close again the second you had settled.

“What are you thinking about? The film’s not that deep of a thinkpiece.” The lighthearted tone and tiny smirk playing around his lips were contrasted by the inquisitive raise of a brow, letting you know he was quite serious about your answer. “And it’d better not be anything stupid.”

“Oh you know,” you vaguely gestured towards the screen as you avoided his gaze, “there’s just no way they could’ve made it out of that building before the bomb went up. That was so much longer than 30 seconds.”

There was a soft touch against your cheek where calloused fingertips tilted your head back towards him, not forcibly but determined. You were more starkly made aware of the heat radiating from his body as he leant further into you, the arm around your back giving you no chance to wind yourself out of his proximity. Under other circumstances there would absolutely be no way you’d want to in the first place. But you knew Rin was sharp enough to deduce exactly where your mind had gone if you gave him only the faintest of clues and you really didn’t want to disrupt your movie night with your insecurities.

“Very cute, doll, but you never pay attention to realism. Besides,” the ends of his hair tickled your face as his lips ghosted the shell of your ear, “do you really think I didn’t notice you burning holes into the side of my head? If there’s something you want, you only need to ask.”

“That’s what you got from that, Rin?” You laughed, pushing his head from the crook of your neck with the pad of your forefinger. “Could it be that you're projecting your own thoughts onto me?”

“What else could I be thinking about when someone this pretty has been clinging to my side the entire evening?” Your boyfriend hummed the question thoughtfully before your centre of gravity shifted. A surprised gasp later, you found yourself in his lap with your knees bracketing his hips, courtesy of the muscles flexing against the small of your back where he kept you pinned to his front. “You can’t blame a guy for getting ideas when you’re this cute.”

“You’re such a horndog, Rin,” you giggled, melting into his hold as his large palms smoothed out the material of his sweats covering your thighs, the repetitive motion relaxing as you lost yourself in each other’s eyes, despite having done so a million times before.

“It’s all your fault, doll,” Suna murmured and your gaze automatically tracked the movement of his mouth as it formed the words. Inspired by you, he mirrored the action and then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow and unhurried, your lips moving languidly against each other, giving you all the time in the world to bury your fingers in the hair of his nape. The swipe of his tongue asking for entry was accompanied by firm hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you so flush against him, it was like he wanted to become one entity altogether. You happily parted your lips for him so your tongues could tangle together in the same rhythm of his arms moving you to grind down on him.

When his warm hands explored the bare skin under his hoodie, however, it was like someone had sounded the alarm bells in your head. Sure, you’d been intimate with Suna plenty of times, that was nothing new, but so far, you’d avoided any positions where your back would be on display or his hands could roam too freely across it. Up until this point, you’d put up excuse after excuse and the brunet had respected your wishes but slowly you were running out of fronts to put up without addressing the real issue.

Over time, you’d gotten used to Suna seeing your face with all blemishes and impurities on display, more out of necessity than free will in the beginning. You couldn’t hide your face from him forever after all. In typical Rin fashion, he’d been so gentle and reassuring about it, thanking you for putting your trust in him and nearly making you cry in the process. 

Your back, however, was an area you could cover up way easier and that was how you kept it. The thought of him seeing the redness and scars littering the expanse of the skin there, running his hands over it and feeling the bumpy texture where other people’s would be smooth, it made you shrink in on yourself. As you wrecked your brain for a new excuse and got ready to push his hands down to your hips again, he withdrew them from the hoodie himself, making the garment feel much too big on you as he took his warmth with him.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now,” Suna began, his voice calm as one hand settled back against your hip and the other cradled your cheek. Your fidgeting must have conveyed your discomfort, because he started drawing tiny circles onto your cheek bone, the callouses from years of playing volleyball contrasting the softness of his touch, making you subconsciously lean into the movement. “I didn’t know how to bring it up but at this point I feel like I need to know… Is there a reason you’re so reluctant to show me your back? And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about, I know you better than that.”

“Ah, so you noticed,” you meekly replied, swallowing hard around the words stuck in your throat. “What gave it away?”

“You’re not the best at lying to me, you know. It was pretty obvious you were making excuses for something else.” You felt like a cartoon character getting hit with an arrow through the stomach. “I just want to understand what’s putting you so on edge, so I can fix it. Whatever it is, you can tell me and I’ll work hard so you can trust me. But I won’t know what I did if you won’t tell me.”

“What you did?” You echoed incredibly. “Rin, you’ve done nothing wrong, more like the opposite, honestly. You’re like the guy out of anybody’s dreams, of course I trust you.”

“Then what is it? I don’t want to pressure you but I hate to see you uncomfortable,” Suna’s voice was soothing like a fireplace in winter as his finger smoothed out the furrow of your brows, silently telling you to take all the time you needed, he wouldn’t judge.

“It’s just– My back it’s so ugly,” you weakly admitted, opting to hide your face in the crook of his neck when holding eye contact became too painful. For a split second, Suna went as rigid as you had earlier before gingerly setting his hand down on the top of your back and running it lightly up and down to test your reaction. “Everyone has this perfect, smooth skin but mine is full of scarring and blemishes and I… I don’t want you to see how hideous I– it is.”

“Oh baby, that’s not true,” he soothed. “You are so stunning, I could never think you’re ugly.”

“No, you would,” you disagreed, shaking your head. “I already don’t know how you can say that with so much confidence, I don’t want to ultimately prove you wrong.”“So instead you just made the decision for me?” Ah, his signature deadpan response.

“Huh?”

“You are so convinced of your own perception you won’t even entertain the thought I could see something else entirely. I’m a lot of things but not a liar, doll. When I tell you you’re beautiful, I mean it.” To show he wasn’t taking offence at your words, he tapped the tip of your nose again when you emerged from your hiding spot to peer up at him. Bouncing you in his lap as if to jostle the negative thoughts from the forefront of your mind, mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Do you really think I’d put myself into this position just to make someone feel better? Usually, I only try to fuck unbelievably attractive people on my couch.”

“Oh my god, Rin! You’re such an idiot!” You were well aware your boyfriend had the tendency to be shamelessly blunt and it still made you smack your palms against his chest, though your shoulders did feel lighter at his very characteristic way of encouraging you. “Also we bought this couch together, so it’s mine as much as it’s yours.”

“The point still stands,” he nonchalantly answered, trailing one finger down the dip of your neck as his half-lidded eyes tracked its path before finding yours again. You knew that look well and it made your earlier arousal flare up again. “You’ll give me a chance to prove you wrong, won’t you, pretty? I promise you won’t regret it.”

You hesitated for a moment before mustering up all your courage. Suna had never betrayed the trust you placed in him and he’d not given you any reason to doubt him this time either. “Alright, fine.”

“Thank you.” You could feel his smile against your temple when he leaned forward to place a small peck there. “Hmm now where were we? Oh, that’s right.”

Long fingers splayed over the back of your head to tilt your head up so he could reconnect your lips once more. Just like before, the kiss started off slow and built in intensity until you were gasping for breath, a thread of a saliva connecting you until it broke from the rocking of your hips. Having foregone a bra that night, your nipples rubbed against the soft lining of the sweater, perking up from the friction.

This time, when his hands snuck under your clothes, you didn’t move to stop him, instead letting the warmth of his palms spread across your back. Slowly but steadily his touch rose higher, his fingertips nearly massaging the skin with the light pressure he was exerting. At the same time, his mouth moved south as if he wanted to meet his hands in the middle, trailing a hot path of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw to just below your ear.

“The calluses of my hands, do they bother you?” A little disoriented by the low timbre of his voice and confused by the sudden question, you quickly made it known you liked them quite a lot, to which he chuckled. “See, at first, I was really insecure about it. Such rough hands handling something so precious, that didn’t seem right. But I learnt pretty quickly I was fussing about nothing, considering how you seem to love holding my hands or cumming all over my fingers.”

“That’s not a fair comparison,” you nearly whined, both at his choice of example and the way he bucked his hips up into yours. Your face felt as if it was set ablaze as his hands roamed and kneaded whatever part of skin they could find and your hips kept up a steady rhythm. “You have such nice hands, Rin.”“Something you made me aware of,” he smiled. When his lips reached the point where the collar of the hoodie wouldn't allow him to go any further, his hot breath fanned the expanse of your throat and his fingers played with the hem of his piece of clothing. “Let me do the same for you, yeah? Are you comfortable with taking this off?”

“Yeah,” you quietly affirmed, nodding your head at his request. With his help, the soft material slipped over your head and arms before being tossed somewhere next to the two of you and you fought hard to return your hands to his shoulders in lieu of covering up your bare body. 

“Shit, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing these,” Suna groaned, cupping your breasts with appreciative hands, forefingers and thumbs immediately working on rolling your pert nipples between them as the other digits fondled the surrounding area. “Look how perfect these look in my hands, like they were made to be held by me.”

A soft sigh of his name escaped you as you tilted your head back at the sensation of his warm hands contrasting with the temperature of the living room. It drew his attention back to the exposed column of your neck, focusing on the task of sucking a pulsing bruise against the spot that he knew made you weak. 

However, what you didn’t expect was him reaching around you to ghost his finger up the length of your spine, sending electricity right through you. Combined, the actions effortlessly pulled a gasp from you as you arched your back against his chest, which resulted in you pressing down hard against his bulge. His groan reverberated against your chest, a beautiful and husky sound which made you crave to hear more.

“Did that feel good? I bet it did,” Suna whispered against your feverish skin, fingers splaying out in the dip oy your back to keep you steady. “I can make you feel so much better, you know that. Just say the word.”

By now, your panties were probably soaked through as your clit pulsed with need, hips rocking in search for more friction but not getting enough to satisfy that itch inside of you. With how your heart was hammering against your ribcage, you could’ve bet Rin was able to feel it too, even through the material of his shirt. Balling the material in your fists you whimpered, “Rin, I need more, please.”

He grinned against your shoulder, pressing your chest tighter against his and grabbing the fat of your thigh with his free hand. Without any strain, he flipped you over so your back hit the couch cushions and he towered over your form, your legs still spread around his waist.

Running his hands down and back up the length of your legs, squeezing your thighs and calves appreciatively, his touch made goosebumps spread all across your body, no matter how seating it was on you. When his fingers reached the waistband of your sweatpants, playing with it as he leaned into your space, his heavy gaze met yours once more.

“Can I take these off?” No matter how clear it was you wanted this too, Suna would always ask. This night too, you willingly lay yourself in his hands as you lifted your hips to help him shimmy your pants off you, tossing them in the vague direction of the hoodie without taking his eyes off of you. He especially didn’t want to miss the string of slick sticking to your panties as they followed suit.

Drinking in the sight of your nude form, he traced a reverent finger over the seam where your legs met your hips, purposefully applying only a hint of pressure, knowing the featherlight touch was driving you positively insane. Slowly circling further in, he then caressed your outer lips covered in soft pubes, collecting your arousal with an experimental stroke over your slit but intentionally missing where you wanted him most.

“Rin, don’t tease,” you whined, squirming against the couch cushions.

“Sorry, doll, but you just look so pretty like this,” he mused, bright eyes showing not a hint of remorse. “I just have to indulge a little.”

And indulge he did. When he finally grazed his thumb over your neglected clit, his touch seemed to scorch, which only served to fuel the desire inside of you and it inevitably coaxed a wanton moan from you. Incredibly adept at reading you and keen to hear more of your sweet noises, Suna easily slid his middle finger into your hole, that at this point had been clenching around nothing. With how wet you were, he was met with no resistance at all and soon complied with your pleas for more and added his ring finger to the first.

“Shit, baby, you’re clinging to my fingers,” Suna voiced his thoughts as he smoothed one hand down the length of your leg once more to grab your ankle. Keeping up the steady pumps of his hand, curling his digits right into the spot that had your leg spasming in his hold, he turned his head to kiss the joint in his hold. However, he didn’t stop there. 

As if your leg was a fuse and he was the fire, Suna leisurely crept his affections higher, over your calves and past your knees, until you really felt ready to explode. Dimpling the flesh under his fingertips, he tightened the hold on your thigh so he could suck a myriad of hickeys on its expanse, unbothered by your incessant writhing. 

His hot breath fanned your core as his plush lips mapped out the juncture of your leg, paying careful attention to the area littered with stretch marks and covering the cause of some of your insecurities with his own marks. Like he wanted to claim your body as his, not that of the doubts in your mind. When he was satisfied with the blotches of red forming on your skin, he finally pulled back to admire his work.

“Have I been neglecting you lately?” Suna whispered, almost drowned out by the squelches of your pussy as he scissored his fingers. Looking up at you over the length of your heated body, he replaced his thumb with his kiss-swollen lips, placing a sweet peck against your clit and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it. You should never feel like this about yourself.”

“It’s not your fault, Rin,” you breathily reassured him only to be shushed by idle fingers dancing across your lower stomach, then precisely pressing down where his other hand was crooking up into.

“What kind of boyfriend lets his baby feel anything less than gorgeous?” Snaking one arm around your arched back, his long fingers covered a large part of it and held you steady against his chest as the coils in your stomach wound tighter and your toes curled at his sides. “I wish I could show you what I see. But since I can’t, I’ll have to settle for conveying it like this.”

His thumb had taken up its former spot again, resumed drawing firm figure eights on your clit and your nipples rubbed against the front of his shirt where Suna curled over you to reach your lips with his. Under the influence of his messy kiss, you felt like you were set ablaze as your boyfriend encouraged you to let go for him.

Someone might as well have replaced your blood with molten lava as your orgasm washed over you with fiery intensity and sweat pearled on your temple. Your arms slung around his body as your hands searched for whatever they could grab to hold on, be it the muscles of his shoulder or his dishevelled dark locks. Your lungs were already burning with the need for air but if you stopped kissing him, stopped vocalising your pleasure right for him to swallow it up, you thought you might die.

Suna kept up his ministrations until you were trembling like a candle in the wind before he even considered pulling his fingers from you. With half lidded eyes you watched as he brought the digits up to his mouth, cleaning up your mess with slightly exaggerated lewdness and moaning at your taste.

As he sat back up, he kept you flush against him and returned you to the position that started this all. Only this time your heightened sensitivity made you hyper aware of his arousal underneath you. 

“How are you feeling, pretty?” Nosing the crook of your neck lovingly, Suna nibbled on your salty skin where your quickened pulse thrummed underneath. His strong hands massaged your sides as you caught your breath and willed your chest to stop heaving. “Do you want to keep going?”

“You can’t do all of that and then deny me this,” you laughed breathlessly as you rolled your hips into his prominent bulge which caused him to inhale sharply. On top of everything, your boyfriend was also fucking hung, something his sweats didn’t hide in the slightest. “But I need you to take this off first.”

“Your wish is my command,” he chuckled, shrugging the shirt over his head unceremoniously, his biceps and triceps flexing in the process. While he busied himself with untangling himself from his pants, you ran an appreciative hand over the firm planes of his abs and up his pectorals. “Like what you see?”

“You know I do,” you mused, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Got so lucky with you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Suna smiled, letting his hands roam over every dip and curve of your body as he urged you to straddle him again. Wasting no time, you started rocking yourself over his length, gasping every time his head caught your clit while you covered him in your arousal. After starving himself of stimulation earlier to focus entirely on you, your boyfriend shuddered at the contact. “You already feel so good doll, how am I supposed to last like this?”

“It’s okay, I want you to feel good too, Rin,” you stated but your movement was promptly stopped by two heavy hands on your hips. There was a subtle flush decorating his complexion and your heart skipped a beat. Was he really this affected just because of you? “As tempting as that sounds, tonight is all about you. No room to argue.” There was a tender finality in his tone, one that made clear he really wouldn’t budge on the topic, so you relented and melted into his hold. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Yes, this wasn’t the first time you’d been intimate with Suna, but it still felt like it. Every time he sunk his cock into you the stretch had you tossing your head back. From the way his thick tip slowly breached the tight ring of muscle, to the pleasant friction of his veins sliding against your walls and the satisfying feeling of being stuffed full, you believed you’d never get used to it.

“You always take me so well,” Suna panted as he bottomed out, fingers flexing against the pudge of your ass as he willed himself to patience to let you adjust to his girth, no matter how heavenly your warm cunt felt enveloping him. 

“Fuck Rin, I need you to move. Please, I–” Your brows were furrowed and you supported yourself on his chest as you started circling your hips against his while his cock pressed against all your sensitive spots so nicely.

And who was he to deny you when you asked so sweetly? 

Starting with slow and deliberate thrusts, you both knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. While Suna normally prided himself on patience, even his was running thin by now and soon after, the rhythmic slapping of your thighs on his echoed around your apartment as he effortlessly moved you up and down on him, each thrust seemingly deeper as the previous one.

Not able to keep yourself upright for much longer, you slumped against his equally sweat-slicked chest and surrendered yourself completely to his actions, opting instead to claw at his back every time a particularly well aimed stroke had you clench your eyes shut. It was the best kind of torture and if you were exposed to it for too long you might actually go mad.

With your head nestled in the crook of his neck it gave Suna the perfect view down your back, admiring the way it bowed so graciously against his broad body or how your ass bounced with each slap of his thighs. How you were able to see anything but your beauty was something he just couldn't get behind; not because he was without insecurities but because no part of you could ever be a flaw in his eyes. Not when it made you who you were.

His fingers fluttered over the curve of your spine again, eliciting a more visceral reaction as your body shuddered and you pressed yourself tighter against him, trying to evade his searing touch while simultaneously craving more of it. Your whole body felt like you were boiling from the inside out, every part his scorching hands touched sizzling with nerves.

The constant grind of his pelvis against your clit had your walls gripping his length like a vice, making it increasingly harder for your boyfriend to pull out, let alone hold his own release back for much longer. Dipping his head down with a groan, his lips connected with your shoulder as his fingers kneaded and fondled wherever he could reach. Perhaps by the time you woke up tomorrow you wouldn’t see the blemishes you agonised over but the imprint of his fingers on your waist or the love bites littering your shoulder.

“If you don’t like these marks, I guess it’s on me to cover them with my own,” he mumbled lowly, perhaps more to himself than to you. Either way, the deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear followed by the sound of him reattaching his lips where he had left off shot down your spine like a lightning bolt. “You’re close, aren’t you? C’mon, you can do it. Show me how beautiful you are when you cream on my cock.”

The effect Suna’s voice and words had over you should maybe concern you. But you didn’t care as you came for the second time this night with a cry of his name on your lips, weightless as your boyfriend rode out your orgasm while chasing his own. Just as you came down from the aftershock of pleasure, Suna pushed inside of you as far as he could and painted your insides white.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything, content to stay lost in the feeling of the other as two sets of hands explored the shared silhouette of your bodies. Kisses were exchanged or randomly placed wherever you could reach, Suna caressed your sides and you swept sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

“So,” Rin broke the comfortable silence, “are you still hellbent on arguing with me on this?”

Picking up his hint of playfulness, you decided to lean into it. “Hmm I dunno, the jury’s still out.”

“I thought you might say something like this,” he chuckled, pinching your side between his eyes, resulting in you yelping in surprise and sending him a half-hearted glare which was only returned in mischief. “Good thing I already planned to bend you over the back of the couch and paint your back. Bet you’d look lovely, even if you can’t get any more gorgeous than you already are. Same place and time tomorrow work for you?”

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” You laughed at his shrugged ‘Might have mentioned it before’ before leaning up for a brief peck. “But sure, I’ll clear my schedule for you.”

After your movie night had effectively been rebranded into a shared bath Suna had drawn for you, you let the warm water rinse away most of the soreness you felt in the moment. Despite the tub being a rather snug fit with your professional athlete occupying a big chunk of it by himself, you let yourself relax against his chest.

Rin had taken it upon himself to gently scrub your body down for you, being extra careful with any of the spots he might have been a little rougher on. When it was time to dry off, he took his time to shower your back in kisses; every mark he left, every scar, every blemish, he covered them all equally in his affection and adoration. 

“I love you,” he murmured when his eyes met yours through the mirror and he tangled your fingers together. “I would never dream to change a single thing about you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, like it was a secret only meant for his ears. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“It’s nothing you have to thank me for.” Suna brought your hand up to his lips to leave a lingering kiss there too. “I’m just doing what any good boyfriend should.”

Later in bed:

“How much did you have to hold back from saying ‘I’ve got your back’?”

“You have no idea.”

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[mariaxxxxx]

Blackberry (Steve Rogersx fem!reader)

Summary: You shouldn't have had too much to drink at that party, honey. (+18)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, menstrual sex, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

series masterlist

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: The following chapter has graphic descriptions of non-consensual sex. I ask that you carefully observe the warnings to avoid triggers.

The party at the Stark mansion was a success as always. The cream of society was made up of businesspeople and new candidates for a seat in the American Congress. Dresses and hats fluttered in the cool spring breeze. You devoured a bowl of sugared blackberries, leaning against the bar counter, while watching your parents talk with friends animatedly about some topic involving economics and money. For God! You were so bored not even one of your friends decided to join you in this den of ostentation and hypocrisy.

And nothing, no matter how exciting it was to be in a superhero's house, could appease the enormous boredom that consumed his insides. Not even alcohol could keep you company at this point, your father would die before allowing a drop of alcohol to wet his tongue, so you were left with sugary blackberries that proved to be a good aphrodisiac on a hot afternoon.

You swallowed the last blackberry and left the empty bowl on the counter. He walked to his mother and whispered ‘’I’m going for a walk’’ in her ear and left the room before his mother could retort. You easily dodged the hundreds of guests and headed to the farthest drinks tent where an efficient bartender was juggling. The tent was outside, near a clump of trees, away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

“A blackberry margarita, please.” You asked, leaning slightly over the ivory surface.

"Identity." He asked.

“I didn’t bring it, but I guarantee that I’m of legal age.” You smiled as convincingly as you could, but he didn't seem inclined to help you. You rolled your eyes. “I’ll give you 100 bucks for the drinks.”

The bartender looked at You in disbelief. You felt internally angry; The childish features still hadn't left his face like the cute cheeks and plump lips, and that always got him into trouble.

“Not happening, girl.”

"Please! This party is a big mess, if you know what I mean. I need to stuff my face or I’m going to go crazy.”

Again he looked at her in disbelief. He was probably one of those people who only saw parts published in gossip magazines about young heirs who got into trouble.

"It went badly."

You sighed. Your father didn't even let you bring your cell phone. It was not polite, in his opinion, for a rich girl to interrupt an important conversation because of a message.

“A straight whiskey, please.” The deep voice next to him. “And a blackberry margarita.”

Without having to present ID or leave a tip to guarantee efficient service, the man, the damn Captain America, got both orders at incredible speed. The only thing You could think about was how tall and handsome he was.

"Here." He handed her the drink. “I got the impression that you forgot your identity and are being massacred by the damn bureaucracy.”

You smiled; by the drink and the wording so changing coming from a man considered by many to be an American God.

“Thank you, Captain.” You said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Steve. Just Steve.” He said taking a generous sip of his own drink. “I hope he really is of age. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

"Right. Steve. Just Steve.” You repeated with a mischievous smile. “I promise I will show you my ID as soon as possible.”

“What’s your name, pretty girl?”

You found yourself smiling and blushing at such a flippant compliment coming from such a divine man. You told him your name.

“A beautiful and delicate name. It suits you." He took another generous sip of his Whiskey and you took advantage and drank some more of your drink. It was sweet and went down as light as water.

“How can I thank you for the drink?” You asked.

"Talk to me."

You drank more of your blackberry margarita.

"About what?"

"Anything. Just… entertain me at this boring party.”

“Anything…” You took another sip. “As long as we can help ourselves to one more of these.” You got ready for your now empty glass.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Steve said, finishing the whiskey with a hint of a smile on his lips.

At some point, between conversations and glasses of margarita, Steve convinced you to show him every corner of the mansion. You accepted, looking excited about taking a tour with such a handsome man by your side. You and Steve left the tent, avoiding curious glances and boring conversations. He showed you the room where the Avengers met, the works of art that Tony insisted on buying, the training room and finally a long corridor with similar doors. He opened one of them and you entered a large room without windows, with a large sofa in the center, a minibar, a large TV that took up the entire wall and a strange device that you thought was a stereo.

It was large, clean and richly decorated. It felt like a sanctuary for leisure time. Steve pointed to the sofa and you sat down, he went to the minibar and returned with a bottle of reddish liquid. He sat down next to her.

  “Do you want to drink more”? He reached out his hand, wrapping his long fingers around the bottleneck. He extended this to You as if it were not a trap that You were about to willingly fall into. “It’s a liqueur made with blackberries. I got it from a senator at a party at the White House. I noticed how much You like the fruit and I would like You to try it.”

You had already had too much to drink. There were glasses and more glasses of margaritas, and you already felt your body a little soft, but you couldn't refuse the proposal of a man as beautiful as that. The man who sacrificed a lot for this nation. It's just a drink, You thought. Getting drunk next to Captain America, who is a hero, is a much better idea than getting drunk alone in a mansion. And you loved blackberries.

"Yes please." You mumbled, and Steve looked so proud of your response. He poured you a generous dose of drink. You drank. It was strong and very concentrated, very different from your sweet and light margherita. You didn't care you just drank more while Steve looked at You with a big smile. Beautiful. It was a beautiful smile.

One drink turned into two, then three and four.

“You’re blushing.” He smiled, he said drinking some of the liquor. “Your first kiss wasn’t that bad.”

You didn't notice. But You started sharing very personal things with Steve; You told him how your first kiss, as a child, was a disaster with a classmate you liked. You said how it was drooling and clumsy.

"It was horrible". You made a cart.” I did it because my friends wanted it. I should have waited longer.”

You don't feel it, but your knees spread of their own accord as a warm hand, not yours, lifts your dress a little and exposes the inside of your thigh and begins to massage in gentle circles as you finish another glass, laughing hard. , the heat growing whenever he got closer.

“A girl as beautiful as you should have someone.” He says in a reprimanding tone. He was close, very close. You drank more.

“No” You laugh, louder than usual, You feel so good, so light. But you feel a wave of disappointment wash over your body when you remember that you had no one. She couldn't even remember the last time she was touched or praised by the opposite sex.

“With such a beautiful face like that, it’s hard to believe.” He smiled. “Such a beautiful body and...”

He pauses.

“And…” You encourage him to continue.

“With breasts as beautiful as yours, I’m sure everyone…” He stops, looking embarrassed, his hand on your thigh about a little more. "Forgive me. This is inappropriate.

"No." You say quickly, urgently, although more slurred than usual.” I don't mind. You can praise them.”

"No?" He asks, his voice perfectly steady, with fake surprise behind it. Had you and he already had so much to drink because he didn't seem any different? “Would you mind showing them? I would love to see."

You shake your head and mumble no. With one hand, the other held the glass of drink, You released the bows on your dress that held your breasts, You didn't wear a bra, you didn't need them to make your breasts look beautiful, something you were secretly proud of. Her breasts bounce out towards him.

Steve reaches out his hand and gives it a nice squeeze. You let out a small moan at the intimate touch.

“I want to suck your six.” He blurts out.

His smile disappears, mostly in shock at such a bold revelation. But a part, a big part, of you feels flattered that Captain America wants to play with your breasts and all you wanted at that moment was for him to touch you.

"All good." You mumble in a slurred, broken voice.

Steve pushes your body until his head is between your breasts. You feel him take a deep breath, smelling you, his right hand grabs one of your breasts. He tilts his head and wraps his lips around your closest nipple.

The sensation is strange, it tickles, cold, but it warms up quickly. You had never felt someone do it like this before, it was much more like a brief lick or a clumsy and seductive suck like many boys did. But with Steve it was different. He was grasping as if trying to extract fluid that will never come out. He moans lewdly. You drop the glass and place your hand under his blonde locks, pressing his head against your breasts.

“Steve.” You let out a moan as he takes a long nip before releasing your breasts in a wet pop.

  “Where is your glass?” He asks.

You don't respond, because you're too oblivious to pay attention to his words. His body was hot, his vision blurred and his nipples hard and sensitive. You were oblivious when you felt Steve put a full glass in your hands, he mumbled a drink and you obeyed, wanting to leave him satisfied.

You drank more. Maybe four or five or six more glasses. You do not remember. The last one ended up kind of spilled because you couldn't hold it while Steve helped you take off his dress. You feel his head being placed on a soft pillow or perhaps a cushion, You couldn't tell; his vision was blurred and his senses were weak. Warm hands slide down your legs to your panties and gently remove them. Your blurred vision is bathed in the sight of Steve shirtless on top of you. Beautiful. He was so beautiful.

You're moaning and shaking with nervousness, or at least you would be if his grip wasn't holding you in place. Her pussy burned with heat and desire, it was like rough sandpaper that moved in and out, swinging a seesaw from hell.

“It hurts.” You mutter. You were a mess and you know it, the words come out slow and slurred. Humiliation rises deeper than pleasure can reach, and disgust crawls over your skin with a sheen of sweat. He had touched her before. Stimulating your clit until you came on his long fingers, but it wasn't enough, it never would be. He was big and thick, with powerful hips that caused her great pain with each thrust.

You weren’t expecting it when he tilted his hips just to rub the fat head of his cock against your aching pussy. You moan at the small shock waves caused by the brief contact with your clit, but he smothers your moans with a wet, hot kiss, taking away your oxygen. He shoved his cock back inside her ripped hole.

He moaned against You, his mouth open panting, as if he was feeling something that You didn't. The intrusion not only stretches, but burns and hurts. Dry fiction mixes with rough movement. The tears flow, You feel the wet trail they leave on your cheeks. The disorientation left You dizzy and contained, a prisoner of your own body, but that didn't stop Him from exerting his strength against You. He was heavy. Upon noticing your whimpering, the hand that was on your hips goes up to cover your mouth, spreading tears and saliva everywhere.

“It’s okay, my love.” He said between moans. “You are so beautiful and as sweet as berries.”

The blackberries. The damn blackberries were the ones who brought her here. Steve gives another powerful thrust, preventing any further thought. You scream into his hand. He begins to fuck with desire, with strong thrusts, riding his own release. You moan, writhe, scream when a sensation begins to blossom at the tip of your toes that rises to your abdomen causing your muscles to contract slightly and then relax. Steve doesn't stay far behind, he pulls out of your pussy and with one last thrust spills all of his semen inside of you.

You are sleeping too deeply to understand, but not too deeply not to hear. You hear some loud footsteps, a door closes, before you feel someone approaching.

"Mommy." You speak as you sit up, try to open your eyes, your mind is still spinning. A great light hits your eyes and you close them quickly. Little by little you open your eyes slowly until you get used to it.

You wish your mother had killed the man who enchanted you with smiles and drinks so that you would give yourself to him, you may fear that strange conversation and the lectures, but you longed for your mother's safety and her lap. But it wasn't his mother who was sitting next to him. It was him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He says as he brushes the strands of hair out of your face. “Your parents are a little upset now, but they will get over it little by little, you'll see. They will be happy for their little daughter who has won over the national hero and is about to walk down the aisle.”

"What are you talking about?" You say roughly, trying to get up, but the quick action made your body weaken. Steve picks you up and sits back down on the couch.

“I will take care and spoil you a lot, my love. You will see. I will fill you with gifts and love. We're gonna have a lot of fun." Steve says with a scary look on his face.

"You are crazy." You say in tears. “My parents will...”

"Do not worry about a thing." He pulls away and stands up, walking over to the minibar counter where a red bowl awaits him. He pities her and returns to You. “I'm already taking care of everything. All You need to do now is eat.”

Fear flooded your body You had already trusted that man and look what happened, but You had already seen too many documentaries and police series to know how much this type of person hated being contradicted. Maybe being his sweet, obedient girl would provide you with some benefit. With your body shaking, you stretched to see the contents of that bowl. A sound of disgust escaped his mouth when he realized they were blackberries.

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Crossfire - Pt 1 Jack Reacher (Alan Ritchson) x F/AFAB! Reader.

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given. Specific Warnings: This is pure smut with story (but it’s mostly about the smut), Size kink, teasing, mutual pining, angst, P in V unprotected (birth control and trust re STI’s(get checked up and keep your partners informed frens)), drinking, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of war/war fighting, mentions of PTS/PTSD, trauma, military terminology, strip teasing, rough sex, size kink, (small) praise kink, feisty Reader. No mention of Y/N, Reader has nicknames, Teach/Bambi, was in the army with reacher, still doing covert stuff as a mercenary. This is a one shot, but might look at more instalments if people like it. Wordcount: 5,829

Summary: You run into Reacher after years apart. The flames that once burned inside you are ash, but the way he looks at you could start a forest fire.

Author’s Notes: I love Alan Ritchson and having watched Fast X and Reacher recently well… There’s an itch I want him to scratch.

Crossfire

The shitty inner-city bar was loud, too loud. Your ears ring as you watch the banker-bros and their dates laughing it up as they dance without rhythm to the modest-at-best live band. You worry at the label on your third beer bottle. The discarded shredded paper piling up as you try and calm your nerves.

“You doing alright there Teach?” Frankie, Frances Neagley, asks as she slides into the high stool opposite you. Her hair is pulled back in a tie, her olive drab denim tucked close against her as she twitches as people move too close to her, yet not close enough to touch her.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You sigh, shaking your head at the nickname that had stuck since West Point between you, Neagley, and Reacher.

“Do you prefer Bambi? We can call you that if you want?” Reacher’s deep rumble sets off a warmth in your spine you’ve tried to push from you mind for years. You swivel on your stool to take in the bull of a man that is raking his analytical blue-green eyes all over you. You mirror his analysis, taking in the new scars, harder lines on his face.

He’s aged faster than his years.

You think to yourself as you flip him the bird.

“That was one time, Teach at least has provenance.” You scoff, hating both nicknames but at least Teach was rooted in renown.

“How you holding up?” He asks you. With the way he’s looking at you, he’s clearly aware of the mercenary missions you’ve been on, even though he had been out of the force for some time. You’re unsurprised but it still bothers you how honed in on your life he always is.

“Nothing to report Sir,” You hiss, emphasising the last word to dig at him, “If you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” Reacher has his hooks into you, always able to press your buttons.

“Hey,” Frankie interjects, shooting Reacher a venomous glare before turning back to you, “You can leave if you want, but don’t let him be the reason, he’s not worth it.”

“I’m standing right here.” Reacher says matter-of-factly as he looks between the two of you.

“You’re kind of hard to miss,” You scoff, rolling your eyes but you look back at Frankie and relent, “Alright, Reacher, stay out of my way, I want to have a good time tonight.” You glower at him and the softest, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth has you cursing your own stubbornness. You should never had agreed to meet, and even then the moment he turned up you should have bugged out and high-tailed it home.

“Yes Ma’am.” He says softly before stepping away and blending into the swirling mass of the crowd. You try not to allow yourself to be impressed at the ease at which he could do that, considering his bulk and height.

“You two ever actually fuck?” Frankie asks you and you almost choke on the dregs of your beer.

“No, never, fucking hell Neagley, you trying to kill me?” You splutter, well aware that you’re far too flustered. Reacher notices it too and you see the vein on his neck pop as he stifles a triumphant smile.

“You should have, would’ve made things easier.” She shrugs as she takes another swig of her beer.

“That’s rich coming from you.” You needle back, knowing well that your relationship was tight knit enough to make that joke.

“Fair, but you’re a slutty little bisexual, either fuck him and get it over and done with or get over yourself.” Frankie says with a twitch of her lips. She has you there. The only thing that ever stopped you from fucking Reacher was your own ego.

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you gesture between your empty drinks before asking the obvious, “You want another?”

“As long as you’re buying.” Frankie says with a dazzling smile.

“Always, be back in a flash.” You say with a smirk. You love Frankie, you’d even, sort-of kind-of, dated for a while when you left the service, but Frankie being such a haptephobiac scuppered things for you both. You loved each other dearly but you’re a tactile, sexual person, and having to supress your own instincts wasn’t healthy for either of you. But it didn’t stop you loving one another, and that was something neither of you denied, you just expressed it differently, and that was ok.

You make your way to the bar, waiting patiently as the other, dressed up women got served before you. You’d grown used to it, you never dressed up, not for weddings, not for funerals, not for anyone. It had it’s perks, but in a bar, it meant you were served when you were served. You drum your fingers on the edge of the bar after a while, slowly getting tired of waiting.

“Hey,” Reacher’s low rumble makes you shiver as his large form cages you in. His navy shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as you see the firm, thick cords of his forearms hem you in as his large hands rest on the bar, “How’s Civvy life treating you?” He breathes into the shell of your ear as you shudder beneath him.

“Shit, I can’t be as lucky as you and land myself in the middle of murder investigations and big ol’ conspiracies like you J.” You say, using the nickname you know he hates.

“It cost me a brother, so I don’t know if you can call that luck.” He growls against your skin as he inches forward slowly. You feel the brush of his fucking marbled pecs against your shoulders as he tries to draw you in. This was a dance you had both done many times, riling the other up, pushing the limits to breaking point. But there was always an angle, exploiting each other’s vulnerabilities to get what you wanted, or needed.

It’s the toxic part of your relationship with Reacher you never allow yourself to admit to, but it’s also the only thrill you get anymore. Years of the brass putting warfighting over warfighters meant you were numb to just about any stimulus. Except Reacher.

“Fair,” You nod, trying to keep your mind clear as your whole body screams to push back against Reacher, goad him on so he can finally give you what you’ve craved for over a decade, “But we both know you’re not here for sentimentality and feelings.” You breathe, trying so damned hard not to grind back against him.

He wants something, whatever this is will cost you.

“Correct.” He grumbles before a hand falls from the bar, resting against your hip instead, “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away.” He pants against the clammy skin of your neck as you try to wrestle control from the primal part of your brain that would let him rail you right now, against the bar in front of everyone.

“Why now?” You ask, the logical part of your brain interrupting at just the wrong time, you want to take it back, let Jack play his game, maybe let him win for once, then let him fuck you into oblivion but that simple question shatters the illusion. 

“Never mind, have a good night, see you ‘round Teach.” Reacher’s tone is clipped as he detaches from you with surgical precision. His body melds back into the crowd instantly as he flees from you retreating back to reality once more.

The bartender finally reaches you and you order your drinks, skulking back to find Frankie gone too. You check your phone and see that she’s bailed. You sit for a while, not touching the drinks for some time, trying to reconcile the night in your mind.

You down your beer and leave Frankie’s drink on the table before ordering an uber. You wait outside and almost scoff at the fact it took you less than a minute to realise Reacher was tailing you. He’s good, but so are you. You spend your nights checking for every sniper position, any potential ambush site. PTS, having the audacity to exist as a woman in the army, and pre-existing anxiety meant you were always hypervigilant.

You head back to your apartment, abandoning the Uber plan as you nip down dark alleyways. Every time he’s there. Sometimes a step ahead, often two or three behind as you watch him grunt in frustration from a rooftop as he reaches a dead end you guided him into.

*

You flop down on your shitty little sofa as the water still beads at your skin from the shower. You know he’s here, already inside your apartment. The tape you leave over the seams of your sash windows peeled back and replaced almost perfectly, but the room felt off, so when you prodded the adhesive tape it had flaked back without resistance. You had checked the bathroom first, wanting to shower uninterrupted, but you left the door ajar, just enough that if he wanted to, Reacher could see your naked form as you washed vigorously in your wet room.

You look around the studio apartment, the bare wood floors and deep red brick walls helped keep your anxiety in check, dirt shows less, stains easier to cover up. There is so little in the sparse room you’re starting to wonder if you were being paranoid. Then you hear the shift from the mezzanine bedroom. You gaze moves to look up through the balcony, eyes shifting along the dimly lit platform.

“You want a beer Jack?” You ask at the space under the bed you couldn’t see from here, position he was most likely in and you hear the soft grunt at the use of his first name. There’s a pause, where you can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he decides it’s worth staying hidden for any longer.

“Fine.” He huffs as he rolls out from under your bed, exactly where you thought he’d be. Your bed is one of the few places anyone could hide in your apartment and you kept it that way for a reason. You pad over to the kitchen and grab a pair of import beers from the fridge, taking your time, hoping your loose linen shorts and thin tank top would entice Reacher to crowd you from behind again. But you’re left hanging as you hear the creak of your dilapidated groan under Reacher’s weight.

“So, what do you want?” You ask, nudging thew fridge door shut with your hip before you saunter over to sit on the coffee table, Reacher, even if he wasn’t currently sprawled across the whole length, would have taken up too much space for you to be comfortable.

“You.” Reacher says without pause, his sea glass blue eyes raking over the ample amounts of bare skin you have on show. You pop open the bottles with the end of the lighter on the coffee table next to your ashtray full of burnt-out joints, as you lazily take in the way Reacher’s tight jeans hug his strong thighs. The way his biceps strain against the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt has heat flooding straight to your core.

“Denied, anything else I can do for you?” You ask as you hand him the beer, his large fingers brush against yours and you have to battle with your self-control to pull away. Your skin is on fire, your heart in your throat as you feel the pressure of over ten years of pent up desire blotting out the rational part of your mind.

“Can I crash here?” He asks before taking a long swig of beer, you watch shamelessly at the way his throat muscles contract and flex as he swallows.

“Nope.” You breathe, your walls already crumbling as you actually consider saying yes.

“What’s up your ass Teach?” Reacher groans, his eyes hard as he sets the beer down on the table before shifting up into a sitting position, his knees brush yours and you feel yourself clench around nothing. The friction of his jeans against your bare skin, the intensity if his look, his hard stare, all of it riles you up and you have to force yourself to think straight.

“Just getting tired of whatever this is.” You gesture between your chest and his, the truth of your words biting as you steel yourself. You don’t want to fuck this up, you’re in the right place for the first time ever to actually let him in, but you can’t shake the decades of cold hard walls you had festooned around you.

“Understood, see you around,” And he says your name, soft, tender, vulnerable against his stoic, harder than titanium, façade he puts up for everyone. Everyone but you.

Reacher makes it two long strides, which was more like four of your own, before you grab him from behind, wrapping him in a bear hug as you anchor yourself to him. You notice the twitch of involuntary movement as your unexpected contact triggers his fight reflex. But he stills immediately, hands balled at his sides. You press your face into the span between his shoulder blades, inhaling the familiar cotton-fresh, pressed linen and neutral soap smell that you always associated with Reacher. No perfumed frills, as always he was utilitarian, clean, safe.

“Stay.” You whisper into his shirt trying not to sound as needy as you felt, but it’s painfully clear how much you needed this, you can’t hide it from yourself, and you certainly could never hide your feelings from Reacher, no matter how hard you both tried to ignore them.

God he’s warm.

“‘Sure? Seemed pretty clear you wanted me gone.” Reacher says as he places his strong hands on your forearms, as if to move them, but the moment his fingers brush your skin you feel the flash of desire in your chest, striking down your spine like lightning. The hitch in Reacher’s breath tells you he feels it too.

“Look at me.” You order, and without hesitation he turns in your arms, his hands sliding up to touch the bare skin of your biceps. The friction is maddening as you try to suppress the urge to jump him, to wrap your legs around his torso and fuse your lips to his.

“What?” Reacher says with a grunt, his jaw is tight with tension, eyes burning with desire in the low light of your apartment. His thumbs brush the skin of your biceps as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Kiss me.” You breathe, all thought, every ounce of bravado and cold, self-imposed emotional exile thrown to the wind. He hesitates for a split second before he claims your mouth with his own. It’s slow, cautious at first, barely a brush of skin on skin but that’s all it takes. It’s like kerosene poured on a bonfire, explosive, pressured, and unbearably hot. Nothing can stop this blaze now, and you were past being worried about getting burned.

Jack cups his right hand around the back of your neck, cradling it perfectly in his large hand as the other falls to your hip, pulling you against him, fisting the flimsy linen shorts in his hand as he groans down into you. His tongue presses against the seam of your mouth and you open willingly, moaning as his thick, hot tongue dominates you.

“Bed.” You mumble against his lips, pulling away to look up into his lust blown eyes, then you see a flash of mischief in his eyes. Before you can challenge him you’re being thrown over his shoulder. You yelp, embarrassment flooding you as you hear it, cursing yourself for getting caught off guard. Reacher chuckles, charging up the stairs two at a time before practically throwing you on the bed. You bounce lightly against the paisley blue sheets and glare at him, trying to muster every ounce of venom built up over the years for this man. But all you can manage is a pout, which only makes Reacher smirk triumphantly down at you from the foot of the bed.

“Clothes. Off.” Reacher growls the order and a flash of defiance makes you bold. You shift onto your knees and cross your arms, staring up at him with an eyebrow cocked in challenge.

“Make me.” You respond with a scoff, you might have obliged if he had asked nicely, maybe.

“Brat.” Reacher growls before slipping off his watch, kicking off his boots, and taking off his belt. You flush a little as you realise he’s removing anything damaging, sharp, or otherwise uncomfortable. They fall into a pile to his right before he looks you up and down, analytical as always as he prepares to strike.

You expect him to lunge at you, go in for the kill shot and use his brute strength to make you submit but that’s never been the game between you two. It’s always been about the chase, the delayed gratification, the thrill of drawing it out. The bed shifts dramatically as he lowers himself onto his knees.

Fuck, he’s big.

You think to yourself as he kneels, thighs spread as he towers over you. You shuffle back, feet brushing against the pillows as he slowly inches closer. His large hands fall to the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping them open one by one. Each painfully slow motion reveals more and more of his muscular form. Sure, you’d seen Reacher naked before, hell you think you’ve seen him in every state of undress, including when you had to fish out a stray bullet and patch him up in Moldova. But this was different. This was for you.

“Trade?” Reacher says as he reaches the bottom button, his navy shirt hanging off his shoulders, exposing the scarred, rippling torso you knew so well. You could map every scar on his body, or so you thought, new, fresh, still-pink lines and indentations on his skin made you shudder.

“Trade for what Jack?” You say, trying to get under his skin as much as he had already gotten under yours.

“My shirt for yours?” He asks, eyebrow raised in challenge. You know if you refuse you’ve lost, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting you naked too quickly.

“Your shirt for one article of clothing of my choosing?” You barter and he cocks his head quizzically but nods slowly. You smirk and slip down the straps of your sports bra before unclasping it and throwing it away. It was the same colour as your tank top so it hadn’t been obvious it was there until your breasts spill out against the tight fabric of your tank top. Reacher’s eyes go glassy as you see his position shift on the bed, even in the low tungsten lighting you could see the bulge in his dark jeans.

“Impressive.” He breathes, you aren’t sure if he meant your trade, or your breasts, but it didn’t matter. The praise had you open mouthed and trying not to squirm as he inches closer, shouldering off the shirt. He goes to throw it on the floor but you snatch it from his hand, quickly pulling it over your shoulders. It swamps you and you bury your nose into the collar to inhale the crisp, clean smell of Reacher before looking back up through your eyelashes at him. His hand trembles as he swipes it back through the short hair on top of his head.

“What next?” You purr, taking in the broad expanse of his shoulders, his thick neck, and the soft yet defined muscles of his chest and abs. Reacher wordlessly pulls down his zipper, slowly shifting his jeans down over his thighs, letting them pool at his knees as he watches you like a hawk. You exhale aggressively through your nose as you see the dark patch of pre-come on his grey boxers, his cock straining against the tight fabric. You knew he had a big dick, but seeing it erect, erect for you has you pushing your thighs together as your cunt aches to be touched.

He stays like that for a few more agonising seconds and you’re almost at breaking point, about to relent and strip bare for him to take you right there when he finally hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and manages to take them off in a graceful motion, without moving from his knees.

You don’t wait for the next instruction, you had a plan, you mimic his actions in removing your shorts, pooling them at your knees to reveal the white cotton panties that hugged your mound. They were slick with your own arousal, making them cling to you in a way that made you ache further.

“Fuck.” Reacher hisses as he wipes one large hand over his face, sweat beading on his brow as his eyes roam your body, of course he notices the way your panties cling to you, the way your mouth is parted and eyes blown out with desire. He notices the peaks of your nipples painfully hard and pebbled under the thin fabric of the tank top.

“Looks like you’ve only got one piece left to trade Reacher, going to have to pick what I take off next.” You breathe as you bite on your lip, your eyes piercing his as you notice his Adam’s apple bob violently as he swallows hard.

“Me first.” He rasps, thumbs sliding beneath the waistband of his boxers, revealing a smattering of light brown curls as he lowers his underwear slowly, letting his cock spring free with a bounce. You exhale through your nose to try and alleviate the desire building at the base of your spine but you can’t help the whine that accompanies it. He’s larger than you remember and, but then again you’d never seen him hard, and the pearlescent bead of pre-come leaking from his thick, ruddy tip had your hands balling into fists at your side. You notice the slight upwards curve of it and try not to think about how it was going to feel tight inside you.

He watches you with a smug grin, clearly feeling like he had already won but you look away from his beautiful cock and back up into his hungry eyes.

“What next?” You ask, voice pathetic and breathy but you weren’t ready to buckle yet. Reacher swiftly takes off his boxers before shuffling closer, looking between your cotton panties and your peaked nipples as they strain against the fabric.

“Top.” He murmurs, he’s so close now you can smell the perspiration over the usual freshness of Reacher and it does nothing but increase the ache between your thighs. You had hoped he’d say that, you don’t waste your time now, shrugging off his shirt before, peeling the material over your head with a huff as you lose your vision for a split second. The bed shifts beneath you and when you pull the tank top over your head you see him, towering over you, knees almost touching as he tilts his head down at you with a wide smile on his face.

He says nothing but slowly leans forward, his chest millimetres from your face as he reaches behind you to pull his shirt back over your shoulders. You shudder as his fingers brush the bare skin of your shoulders before looking up into his blue-green eyes as you see the strain in his neck muscles as he tries to hold back.

“Looks like you lost Reacher, I’ve still got my panties on.” You breathe as he rocks back down onto his knees, his fingertips trailing down from your shoulders before he reaches your pebbled nipples. He brushes his knuckles against the sensitive buds and you arch forward at the touch, the pleasure blinding as his rough skin scrapes blissfully against them.

“Who said getting naked was the goal?” He asks, his hands trailing down to your thighs, gripping the flesh of your ass in his hands as he leans down into you, his strong nose brushing against yours, lips hovering just short of your own.

“Then what?” You breathe, your right hand rests atop his on your ass, you trail your middle and index fingers down from the hollow of his neck, following the valley of his sternum and tight stomach before ghosting along the patch of curls just above his shaft.

“I think you know.” He breathes, pressing his forehead against your own as he wrestles internally for control.

“Hmmm, think I need you to spell it out for me Reacher.” You counter, removing your hand from his torso to slide it up your thigh instead, tracking slowly up to the seam of your panties where they curve over your mound.

“Fuck.” He grunts but clearly not giving in so easily. You smile and push up on your knees, forcing his hands up as you unfold your legs, flopping back against the pillows under him as you cant your hips up towards him. His hands shift up from your thighs as you move, pinning you down by your hips as he moans above you. You hook your ankles over his calves and look up into his dark eyes with your best bedroom eyes, batting your eyelids as you pull your right hand up to your mouth, pulling your panties to the side with your left. The air hits your soaked pussy and you shudder at the sensation. Reacher’s eyes don’t leave yours, not daring to look down.

“Teach.” Reacher growls in warning but that only spurs you on more. You push your two fingers into your mouth slowly, all the way to the knuckle, hollowing your cheeks out as you suck hungrily on your own digits. He watches you, entranced as you pull them back out, saliva glistening between the digits as you lower them to your clit. Reacher says nothing as he follows them down, he’s practically vibrating with tension now.

You slide your fingers through your drenched folds, whimpering at the sensation as you gather your arousal over your fingers, you bring them back up to your lips but before they get there Reacher snatches your wrist in his hand. Without pause he pulls them into his mouth and groans around your fingers as he laves his tongue between them, savouring your slick like a man starved. Your fingers leave his mouth with a pop and he breathes your name as he cups your cheek with one hand, the other tight on your hip, you were sure it was going to bruise but you didn’t care. He repeats your name again through ragged breaths.

“I give in, can I please fuck you?” He asks and triumph takes a backseat in your mind as you feel the heat rush through your veins.

“Yes.” You breathe against his lips and he presses his tongue into your pliable mouth. You can taste yourself on him and you moan as the hand on your hip pulls you flush against him as he devours you. His length grinds against your slit, rubbing blissfully at your clit as you buck up into him. You want his cock so bad, you wriggle and whimper against him as he continues to lick into your mouth with fervour.

“Need another taste.” He mumbles as he pulls back, dropping onto his elbows as he wastes no time pressing his thick tongue deep into your desperate little hole. You cry out and buck up into it as he laps up your arousal. He shifts up to your clit, swiftly replacing his tongue with two of his large fingers. You cry out as the stretch burns but it’s soon assuaged by the way he sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue in rapid, punishing circles as he fucks you with his strong fingers, his knuckles rutting against your core as you feel the burning heat of your orgasm building. He laps greedily against your clit as he picks up the pace thrusting into your cunt with his fingers.

It’s blinding, like a supernova spreading from the base of your spine, blowing through your cunt and splintering at your toes as you convulse around his digits. You quake as he continues to piston in and out of you as you ride through your orgasm. He watches your face twist and contort, occasionally flicking his tongue against your clit to elicit another shudder from you.

“Jack.” You plead, cupping his jaw as you gently push him away.

“Sorry, ‘just looked too good, twitchin’ f’me.” He babbles, your slick coating his hard jaw as he looks down at you with reverence. You pant up at him but you’re still not truly sated, you want more, so much more. You reach down to his cock and grip him tightly at the base, Reacher’s eyes go wide and he smiles down wickedly at you.

“You sure?” He asks, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, teasing his tongue against the skin there.

“Please.” You beg, you need to feel him, need him to split you open. Reacher groans softly and nestles down between your legs, one hand on his cock, the other holding you steady by your hip. He swipes his head through your folds before pausing in realisation.

“Do you have a condom?” He asks, voice strained as he tries to be good, to do the right thing.

“Reacher I’ve not had sex in months, I’ve had clean bills of health since, and I’m on the pill, unless you’re packing an STI,” You look up at him this time with a face of judgement, “Which I will be pissed we’ve gotten this far and you haven’t said anything,” You add and he grins down at you incredulously, “I’m down if you are.” You say, looking between where his thick head is already stretching your entrance and his handsome face.

“Hundred percent sure?” He asks once more, twitching as he tries to restrain himself.

“Reacher, just fuck me already.” You growl. Reacher obeys and presses his tip inside, the stretch so much more intense than his fingers but you’re already so wet it’s no more than a pleasant burn.

“Fuck, so tight.” He breathes, easing further in as you buck up into him, your legs wrapping around his waist, ankles crossed to pull against his lower back. He groans as he finally lets go, thrusting deep into you as you cry out in bliss. He fills you so tightly it’s overwhelming, you squirm under him as he brings a hand down to swipe his thumb against your clit.

“Fuckin’ Beautiful.” He growls as he starts a steady pace, his balls slapping gently against your ass each time as he bottoms out. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he fucks down into you, spurring him on his thick cock rakes against your fluttering walls as every thrust threatens to unravel you.

“Reacher, fuck.” You groan as his tip hits your g-spot, making you writhe and clench, your right hand falls from his shoulder as you drop it down to swat his hand out of the way. You circle your clit with two fingers, matching his pace with ease fro this angle. He growls at the sight of you touching yourself as he fucks into you harder now, both hands on your hips as his rhythm falters.

“Can I-?” Reacher begins to ask but you cut him off, scraping angry red marks down his chest.

“Come inside me.” You command and that, combined with the sensation of your nails biting into his skin has Reacher stuttering his hips against you as he paints your walls with his spend. You come seconds later, pulsating around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, not slowing until you’re fully spent.

He rolls off you, almost falling off the modest double bed, only for you to catch his arm as you move over to give him some room. His cum is leaking out of you but you don’t care, sheets can be washed, or burned, but this moment with Reacher is precious.

“You ok there Teach?” He asks breathlessly as he turns to face you, pulling you against his chest, looping his strong thigh over yours caging you in against him.

“Seriously? Did you not hear me? Ok would be an insult to you.” You say with a laugh, prodding his sternum lightly with your finger.

“Fair point.” He says as he runs his fingers up ad down your body, tracing every curve, every scar, noting the places where you shudder. You place soft kisses to his chest, dragging your nails of your free hand up and down his back. It’s the most tender moment you’ve ever had, with anyone and the fact it was Reacher who was giving it to you was bizarre but you don’t care. After a while you feel yourself drifting off, but you know you need to wash up, even if you had only just showered.

“Reacher, gotta pee, c’mon.” You grumble against his skin and he sighs.

“I know.” He says softly as he places a kiss to the top of your head, but neither of you move, both terrified that if you let go it will shatter the illusion, the perfect moment neither of you wanted to lose.

“Reacher?” You whisper, anxiety bubbling in your throat as you prepare to ask the question that almost ruined it earlier.

“Hmm?” He responds sleepily, it he props himself up on his elbow and blinks the sleep away as he hears the concern in your voice.

“Why now?” You ask softly, trying to maintain eye contact, not wanting to shy away from this.

“Because,” He says softly, cupping your left cheek as he looks at you in earnest, “I’ve lost a lot of people I love, and I’m tired of pushing the people I love away, because I’d rather live and lose than never live at all.” He says and you can’t help but stifle a giggle.

“Did you just paraphrase Shakespeare at me?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“It’s Tennyson, actually.” He grunts but the smile doesn’t leave his lips. You roll your eyes, he always was more into poetry than you.

“Do you want to crash here?” You ask softly leaning up to meet his lips, the kiss is soft, passionate, yet not the same as the hunger from before.

“Thought you’d never ask, c’mon let’s get cleaned up, I’m exhausted.” He mutters against your lips before hoisting you up into his arms, swinging his legs over the bed before carrying you to the bathroom. You grumble something about manhandling being degrading but he just laughs, because he knows deep down you like it. And you do too.

“Nobody knows it, but you’ve got a secret smile, and you use it only for me.” - Semisonic (Was listening to this while about mid-way through this and I just thought it was appropriate. Let me know what you think! I really liked writing this and would love some more Reacher stuff as it's pretty sparse as far as I can see? As always, likes and reblogs and comments are SO appreciated.

[seventeenytiny]

✿ Spring Fever✿

Smut: Minors DNI

You and Hyunjin go for a walk through a local nature trail and things get pretty heated.  Contains: public sex, fingering, female reader, slight name calling, squirting, unprotected sex (assume reader is on birth control)

Word Count: 1500

Author’s note: I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of Hyunjin and public sex. I apologize for this being a bit rough, I have no excuse, english is my first langue, I just suck at writing right now :))).  

You take a deep breath, welcoming the fresh air into your lungs. The sunlight that you have missed all winter warms your skin as you listen to the birds chirping. You could hardly believe how much happiness blue skies could bring you after months of endless gray. You hold Hyunjin’s hand tightly as the two of you walk down the path of your favorite nature trail, placing kisses on each other's cheeks, simply enjoying the moment. The trail was quiet, it was a bit of a hidden gem in your town, not everyone knew about it. Long, overgrown grass surrounded the edges of the trail, offering a bit of privacy.

You notice a small trail that leads off the main one, a tiny clearing in the long grass, most likely made by a deer.

“Hyunjin, look, there's a little trail there. Can we go see where it leads to?”

He smiles and nods. “I think there might be a little pond that way, maybe we can find some frogs.”

Hyunjin takes the lead, pulling you behind him, protecting you from any cobwebs on the long grass. You admired his strong figure leading you, how could someone be so perfect? Hyunjin was hard to resist, you couldn't help yourself as reached forward, grabbing his ass. He takes a deep breath and stops. You can sense a change in demeanor, he stares straight ahead, his voice low, “You’re going to regret that.”

You don’t even have time to respond before he’s pulling you along again. His words send a tingling sensation straight to your core.

The two of you finally make it through the grass, the trail opens up to a small clearing and a large pond. You walk up to the edge of the pond, taking in the breathtaking view as Hyunjin holds you from behind.

“Look at the ducks over there. Aren’t they adorable?” you pointed out.

“Yeah... they’re cute,” he mumbles. While Hyunjin would generally be very interested in such a sight, his mind was elsewhere. He let you know what he was truly thinking about by slowly grinding into your ass. You tensed up for a second after feeling how hard he was before slowly relaxing into it. Hyunjin’s hand began to travel the front of your body, one hand grabbing your breast, the other pushing your hips closer to him. You relaxed completely against his body, letting him do whatever he wants. You tilt your head to the side to allow him to suck on your neck, knowing there would be little red marks for you to have to deal with later.

“Such a naughty girl... letting me touch you like this out here,” he whispers, his voice deep and sultry.

Too shy to answer, you pull away from his grasp, desperately grabbing his face to press your lips onto his. Your lips move against one another, his tongue slips into your mouth as he grabs your ass. You moan into his mouth, enjoying every second of his touch. You find yourself attempting to grind on his upper thigh, desperate to feel something down there.

Suddenly he freezes up, his hand goes up to your mouth to keep you silent. He leans close to your ear, “Be quiet, Princess.”

The two of you stay in that position for what felt like an hour, although it wasn't any longer than a minute. You wait until you hear the voices of the people walking by pass. The two of you had gotten so carried away, simply forgetting you were in public.

Hyunjin wastes little time getting back to work, his hand slips under your dress, feeling your wet panties. “Does my little Princess get turned on by the thought of other people catching her being a slut?” he coos into your ear.

His words make you melt, you’re so turned on but too shy to respond.

“I need to hear your words, Princess. Does the idea of me fucking you out here where anyone can see turn you on?” His finger slides past your panties, entering your soaking wet pussy. A quiet ‘yes’ slips past your lips, but that's not enough for him.

He slides another finger into you, thrusting them in and out, “What was that baby girl? I can’t give you anything more unless I know being a slut like this turns you on.”

“Fuck, Hyunjin, yes I love it, please just fuck me, I’m begging you.”

“That’s what I needed to hear baby girl, take your panties off for me, please.”

You quickly slip off your panties as he undoes his pants, he pulls them down just enough to release his cock. You watched with eagerness as his hard cock springs up from the confines of his pants. He gives himself a few pumps before he pushes you up against a nearby tree. He looks around to make sure no one is nearby before he lifts your skirt up, teasing your entrance with his cock.

“I need you to be quiet, okay Princess?”

You nod in reply, both of your hands are up against the tree to help keep you steady. He places one hand over your mouth to help stifle any possible moans, his other hand around his cock as he guides it to your entrance. He pushes into you, you're thankful for the hand that covers your mouth as you let out the most sinful sound.

“Shhhh I know it's hard baby girl, you gotta be quiet.”

After giving you a second to adjust to him, he begins to move. His cock stretches you out in the best way possible. You manage to keep quiet, the only thing you can hear is the wet squelching sound as he thrusts in and out of your pussy.

Hyunjin whispers into your ear, “Listen to how wet you are, you really are a slut, letting me fuck you wherever I want.”

“Hyunjin... you're going to make me cum if you keep talking like that.”

Your voice is already unsteady, losing yourself in pleasure. Hyunjin reaches around you, drawing little circles on your clit as he continues to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to cum already? I had no idea how kinky my little Princess was...”

He continues on for a bit before picking up the pace, his hips snapping into yours at an all-new speed.

“I’m gonna cum...”

“Do it, I got you, Princess.” He places a kiss behind your ear, his warm breath tickling you, your mind starts to go blank.

You feel the heat in your core build up as your legs start to shake, you decide to not hold back anymore, letting your orgasm wash over you. You can feel your juices running down your leg, more and more coming out with each thrust. You can’t believe you're actually squirting, you’ve never been able to do it before. Your cum continues to pour out of you as you get lost in pleasure.

Hyunjin feels your wetness coat his cock, soaking his jeans. He’s dreamed of the moment of being able to make you squirt, and now it's finally happening. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts into your ear as he fills you with his cum. He gives you a couple more thrusts as he rides out the pleasure before slowly pulling out.

He holds you tightly against his body as you regain your balance after your intense orgasm. He pulls away only to watch the mixture of his and your cum drip out of you into the earth beneath you.

You turn to him, only to see the front of his jeans wet from your orgasm. You start apologizing, but he cuts you off by kissing your lips deeply.

“Don’t even try to apologize Y/N, that was the hottest shit I've ever seen,”

You blush before kissing him again, “I love you Hyunjin.”

“I love you too Princess, let's get cleaned up.”

The two of you help the other clean up, you grab the panties you discarded earlier to try to soak up the excess dampness on his pants before using them to wipe yourself dry. You tuck the dirty panties into your purse to deal with later, deciding to finish the walk home with nothing on underneath. Hyunjin takes his zip-up hoodie off and ties it around his waist, using it to cover most of the wet stain on his pants.

The two of you look at the lake one last time before finishing your walk home. He wraps his arm around you and places a kiss on your temple.

“So do you wanna come back here for a walk tomorrow? Maybe we can actually look for frogs.”

You giggle, “I have a feeling we will never be able to come back to this spot just to look for frogs.”

Hyunjin grabs your hand and begins to lead you back to the main path of the trail.

“Oh yeah, you were right Y/N, those ducks were actually pretty cute earlier.”

[oopspeter]

We'll never have sex

SUMMARY: Returning from a year long mission should be a relief, but the terrors from those hard months have followed you back home. Struggling to find comfort in your old ways, a certain co-worker introduces you to his own salvation-- distraction.

WARNINGS: 16+ rating for mature themes, blood, allusions to torture, foul language, minor to medium injury descriptions, weapons and violence.

WC: 3.6K

NOTES: First fic! Please let me know what you think-- it hasn't been proofread very well.

"Are you taller than the last time I saw you?" You tease, in awe of his largely built physique.

"I guess everything finally loosened after being off of the ice for so long," Bucky says rather non-chalant.

"Has the giant stick finally fallen out of your ass then?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Never," he shakes his head with an equally matched smile.

"And decided to evolve from that 'lord and saviour' haircut?" You motion to his new trim.

"I've decided that look only suits the holiest of men, which of course I don't qualify for," he instinctively runs his fingers through the chopped locks.

The sound of a heavy heel echoes on the polished concrete, a grand entrance for the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hermit and the recluse!" His hands spread out like an awful gesture of welcome.

"I thought you were too old for modern hip-hop references, Anthony," you push your lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Puh-lease, as if gramps here even knows what I'm yapping about," Tony points his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky as he walks past.

Even though he was totally right, Bucky also refrained from producing any sort of a reaction.

"Here to spread anything useful or are you just trying to be a dick?" Your current distaste for the playboy was evident in your tone, but it was nothing new. Deep down inside you did feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, as did he to you.

Opening the large, stainless steel refrigerator that looked like it could hold at least six months worth of food at a single time, he snatched a bottle of lemon water before slamming the door shut again.

"Since you're back, Banner wants to do a few procedural run throughs just to check up on your health," he flicks the cap off of the bottle which goes flying into the bin. "Oh, and the Star Spangled Banner would like to see you as well-- not the Bruce Banner, but the Star Spangled one."

"You can just say Steve, you know that right?" You squint at him as he daintily sips from the mouthpiece of the bottle.

"Just proving my vocabulary has extended further than the most generic white-man name in America," he shrugs coolly, and you kinda' wanna punch him in his smug face.

The ex-soldier stands as still as stone beside you during your exchange with Tony, if you couldn't see the gentle rise and fall of his chest you'd think he was dead with the lack of noise emitting. Choosing to ignore him, the man takes the cue to leave the room, still feverishly sipping the bottle of lemony water. Once the sound of his heavy heels disappeared out of the kitchen and down the hallway, you noticed how Bucky's shoulders relax.

"Bet you're dreading being back, huh?" You allow to corner of your mouth to turn upwards slightly.

"I could say the same thing to you."

There's an unspoken tension in the air, something far from awkward but not any nearer to comfortable either. Had it been a year and a half since you last saw him? On his six month mission to Angola, at the fourth month you had been sent off on a mission of your own in the Pacific islands to track down an old HYDRA associate who had formulated a plan to obliterate the entire planet from his tiny laboratory in the middle of bum-fuck no where.. no biggie, right?

The seemingly short mission of yours turned into a solo, twelve month exhibition trying to chase a man who was half the size of yourself and almost as clever. Eventually when you caught up to him and the few friends he had made along the way, the year job was over in thirty seconds. Underwhelming.

Sure, you’d escaped death a few times, but not by the man who you’d been hunting. Turns out there were a few other undesirables along your path that you just couldn’t miss the opportunity to lock up. Maybe that was a bit of a roadblock, too.

“I don’t want to keep Bruce waiting, I’ll uh.. see you later?” It was a hopeful question.

“Certainly,” he nods his head in reply, and your heart skips a beat or two.

You blame the heart issues on being so emotionally disconnected from anyone for the past twelve months.

The appointment with Bruce was swift, you chat for more of the time than you did actually doing the check up. He prescribed you with a few pain meds, re-dressed some wounds you’d brought back with you and altered your fitness plan to better accommodate your new injuries. Bruce had a way when it came to making people feel safe, despite the fact any moment a big green monster could jump out and crush you.

There were the usual questions like, how has your diet been-- have you been getting enough sleep-- are the night terrors still occurring-- any unusual pains-- are you sexually active?

The answer has always been something along the lines of nutritious, not at all, all of the time, plenty and no.

It's hard to maintain a sex life being away all the time and locking yourself in your room when you are around, even harder trying to manage a relationship. Sure, you've dated before, dabbled in a love life or two before inevitably deciding it wasn't for you. It never will be for you.

It's far past nightfall by the time you actually decide to leave your room, walking barefoot through the long, cold halls of the tower before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your stomach growls to protest your hunger, throat scratchy and dry as symptoms of your thirst. The automatic lights flicker on the moment you walk through the threshold into the kitchen. A pristine, clean kitchen soon to become the next victim of your horrific cooking skills.

First of all you grab a glass from it's respective cabinet, running the water from the tap to fill it up. Your lips meet the mouth of the glass and you drink, quenching your thirst with a relieved sigh. The water here is refreshing, hygienic, in great contrast to what you've been drinking for the past year. Feeling the coolness in your palms you go to take another sip.

It's metallic, tastes like you've drunk straight from a muddy puddle. The water they have just thrown on your face definitely mixed with the blood dripping from your nose and clinging to your lips. Coughing up a mix of flehm and mucky water, you thrash around in the flimsy wooden chair you've been restrained to.

The room smells of mildew, wet dog fur, and something that is heavily rotting. You can blame the stink of decomposition on whatever is beneath that blue tarp tucked away in the far corner of the room. There's no light aside from a single bulb eerily hanging above your head like some old, cliché horror movie.

Your wrists hurt more than usual and this time you can't blame it on early on-set arthritis, but instead the finger-marks imprinted in a purplish green and the thick rope that rubs against them. The silhouette hiding in the dark approaches you in the light, the indistinguishable appearance morphing into that of a tall man with a mask that hid his face and resembled a smiling monkey. It would be the least menacing thing in the room if he wasn't wielding a knife as large as your forearm.

It's silent aside from the obnoxious drip from the ceiling on the tarp. Drip. Drip. Drip. The face of the knife shines in your eye, reflecting from the light of the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His feet drag along the crusty floor, it's evident he has a limp by the way he carries himself towards you. If you had a free leg or two you'd drive your foot straight into his knee to completely eliminate that problem for him, forever; but how tightly they had bound you prevented even a nudge of movement.

The masked man is close enough for your knees to touch, taking the tip of the sharp knife and dragging it across your cheek to leave a light mark that brings blood in it's wake. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of even a slight whimper which evidentially leaves him unsatisfied, because the knife leaves your face and dives into your--

"Hey, are you okay?"

The glass in your hand shatters completely, hundreds of shards diving and piercing the skin on your palm, the water that was left now drenching your socks. Were you holding it so tightly that the sudden fright made it break?

Swinging around with a crimson hand you find an equally shocked Bucky, lips slightly ajar as a physical indication of his surprise. Not even a moment later he's rushing over with a dishtowel to wrap around your bleeding hand, the white terry cloth quickly becoming stained. You can tell he's panicked by the rise and fall of his shoulders, yet you are struggling to even breathe.

The rotting and mildew is replaced by lemon disinfectant and lingering cooked onion. A dark, dank room now replaced by a pristine, white kitchen. The man in front of you is not a man who wears the mask of a monkey, but instead the one and only Bucky Barnes.

"Fuck, fuck," he has the towel wrapped so tightly around your palm. "We need Banner--"

"No!" You interrupt him, finally finding your own voice. "I don't want to wake him, please don't disturb him."

"Then what do I do?" You can tell he is trying his best to keep his composure and not snap at you for being so stubborn like he has so many times before.

"Get the kit from under the sink, wait for the bleeding to calm and I can take the remaining shards out of my hand," you instruct.

"I will take the remaining shards out of your hand," he corrects. "Keep pressure on it please."

His callous hand places your other hand on top of the towel, pushing the back of it down to apply the same pressure he was before. He's rushing to grab the kit from beneath the kitchen sink, taking his hand to shove all of the bleach bottles aside instead of carefully rummaging through.

You've already made your way to the island, taking a seat at the bar stool and leaning your elbow against the marble. It fucking stings. You have no idea how you transported all the way back into the room after shoving the memory so far down to the depths where you thought it could never recover.

You take in his evening look, those baggy grey sweatpants a signature at-home look of his. The creased t-shirt a dark navy and border lining a compression tee from the way it hugs his torso and biceps so tightly. There are bags under his eyes like there always is, and his brows are pulled tightly together in deep concern.

Your heart does that concerning thing again. Perhaps the bloodloss?

He stands beside you at the end of the counter, the fine marble a slight barrier between your bodies. He unzips the kit with such force you're surprised the entire thing hasn't ripped. He's panicked, you can tell.

"Hey," your uninjured hand reaches out to lightly touch your wrist. "Breathe, it's okay, I'm not dying."

Bucky pauses, and he isn't breathing-- until he does. His tense shoulders drop and his face finally relaxes, then he moves your hand back to apply pressure to the towel.

The silence between you is intense and lasts for what feels like forever. You can tell there's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to ask, and you've got a feeling you're not quite sure how to answer it either why. You're not sure why you broke the glass, or why you became absent for so long, or why you were back in that room again.

"Why are you awake?" He interrupts your escape into your own head.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer honestly. "Neither could you?"

Bucky shakes his head in reply. "No, I couldn't."

"Never can." You both say in unison.

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he doesn't look you in the eyes, instead stares at the red cloth covering your hand.

"You didn't mean to," you shake your head with reassurance, offering a small smile to show that you aren't upset with him at all.

"What if I did?" The corner of his lip upturns.

"Then we'd have a bit of a problem, wouldn't we?" Your tone is playful.

"How about we leave the sparring for after, when all of the glass is out of your hand y'know," he shrugs jokingly.

"Right," you nod your head in agreeance, pulling the towel back to reveal the palm of your hand.

It's definitely not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but not the worst either. There's only one significantly deep cut but the rest just brushed the surface few layers of skin. Bucky is quick to get to work with the tweezers, disinfectant and plasters.

As he works on mending your hand you can't help but look at his face.

Compared to the last time you saw him there's a scar or two more on his right cheekbone, a significant healed slash across the bridge of his nose, a few extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. The stubble on his jaw, chin and upper lip is well maintained and lacks intensity on his neck. The cropped look suits him, hints of grey coming through as a reminder of his aging body now that he has been off the all the chemicals and the ice.

Your eyes trace his side profile, from his hairline to his forehead, eyebrows to the tip of his nose, nose to his lips, lips to his chin and then back to his lips. They're pursed as a habit of concentration, blue eyes trained on the task at hand (literally).

Though it stings, it's practically painless with the way he leans into the counter to reach you. Your heart is skipping again, but this time you think you know why.

"Done," he claps his hands together. "I definitely recommend seeing Banner tomorrow though, even though I spend my weekends fixing myself up I sure as hell ain't a doctor."

"You did a mighty fine job anyways, Mr Barnes," you admire his handy work, though you definitely need that deeper cut a proper look at tomorrow. It'll definitely stop the bleeding and keep it all together for the meantime.

The tension resumes it's place between you, it's palpable.

Your stomach growls in the quiet room.

"Are you hungry?" He quirks a brow.

"Yeah, I was initially in here to cook," you nod your head and rub your forearm with your uninjured hand sheepishly. "Kinda' foiled now." You wave your now bandaged hand.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He's polite, and looks at you like an expectant puppy. You can't help but grin.

"Sure."

It’s a stones throw, or two, from the tower before you finally arrive at your destination. The roaring of his motorbike falls to silence as he uses his heel to push out the kickstand, leaning the bike on it and throwing his leg over to hop off. Reaching his hand out he offers to help you down, which you gracefully accept, placing your hand in the palm of his own and jumping out of your seat.

Dinner was gorgeous. Some little, family owned, Thai place hidden in Brooklyn, where the women knew Bucky’s name and the men shook his hand. They presented you both with a free entrée. It sure as hell made you forget about that little episode in the kitchen. The second the food met your tongue you practically melted into your seat, and Bucky laughed as if to say ‘I know, right!’

Conversation flowed easily, any moment of silent was just a cause of food being stuffed into your mouths. He didn’t ask why you couldn’t sleep, or why you were in such a state and broke the glass. Bucky knew you’d tell him when you were ready.

A shared plate of Khao Niew Ma Maung and a more than generous tip later, you find yourself standing outside of the door to your room. Laughter echoes down the empty, dimly lit hall as you keep at least a foot between you— not daring to even brush arms. His strong featured are illuminated by the shadows, and that funny feeling rests heavily in your chest.

There’s a blanket of silence that falls between you two, not wanting this quiet moment to end. You can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and if the super soldier hearing was true he’d definitely be able to hear the heavy beat of your heart.

“Thank you,” you break the silence. “I— tonight was lovely.”

Bucky hums. “It was.”

Neither of you move a muscle, an invitation lingering on the tip of your tongue.

You open your mouth to speak. “Do you—”

“Yes, please.”

Inside your room is sweet, the bed is made with the cosiest of sheets, books stack shelves accompanied by little trinkets you display proudly. Flicking a match you ignite your pumpkin-scented candle for a source of light, the blinds already automatically pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. If the crisp, untouched sheets were not enough of a sign that you couldn’t find rest, perhaps the growing bags under your eyes were.

Respectfully he kicks his shoes off at the door before stepping on your plush carpet, shrugging off his own jacket and neatly placing it on the back of your desk chair. He’s never been in your room, no one has besides Banner who stumbled in panicked to find you a shaking mess on the floor. That’s a story for another time.

You lay on top the bedspread and rest your head on the plush pillow, hands intertwining on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. Letting out a gentle sigh you feel the mattress dip to the right of your feet.

“You can lay with me, don’t be shy.”

He’s hesitant to do so, but you can feel the warmth of his body as he lays parallel to yourself. You can smell his cologne and it’s much nicer than your expensive candle.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he motions with his hand that you can see in your peripherals.

“You thought I’d be happy with the Stark furniture they so kindly gifted us all when we first moved in?” You put a certain emphasis on the word, which causes him to chuckle. The bed shakes under his weight, and the butterflies flutter.

“I think I broke the bed frame on the third day,” he shuffles beside you, you can tell there’s a smile on his face that matches yours.

“Holy shit, who did you do?”

“No— no— not from that!” He’s quick to jump in and defend himself, evidently flustered. “Turns out the billionaire couldn’t spare the few extra dollars to buy something that could hold 260lbs.”

“So what, you were just sleeping and it collapsed beneath you?” You turn your head slightly to glance at his face.

“I mean I kinda’ face planted on it after I got home from a frustrating mission, and it just splintered beneath me.”

“Oh god,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I was pissed,” he shakes his head, turning it slightly to look into your eyes. “I stormed through the complex and kicked open Stark’s door.”

“Did you get a new bed frame?”

“No, my mattress is still on the floor.”

“I think you need to make another complaint to head office then.”

“You bet,” he shakes his head with a heavy sigh, but the upturn of his mouth tells you that it’s the least of his worries right now.

There’s a certain tension in the air as his cerulean eyes drown in your own, nothing but the crackling of the candle wick and your combined breaths filling the void.

“Thank you, for taking me out tonight,” your eyes trace his jaw to his lips before flicking back to his own. “I—I wasn’t doing too well.”

“I know,” he nods his head in understanding. “I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs Nguyen so happy to see me walk through that door with someone other than myself.”

“Is that why she’d check on our table every five minutes despite the fact we were the only people dining there?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his chopped hair. “Seems so.”

For the first time in a very long time, you feel your lids getting heavy as your body sinks further into the mattress. There’s a warmth rather than that awful cool you feel so often, and it’s starting to become a challenge to keep your eyes open.

After what feels like an eternity of struggle you lift your head slightly to notice how Bucky’s lashes now rest on his cheeks, lips parted to let out quiet breaths. And suddenly in this moment you are safe, and everything is okay.

Your lips meet his forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Before you rest your head a little closer to his own and fall into a sleep you’d been praying for.

[genshinluvr]

Crave 6

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Dainsleif x Isekai'd!Reader x Kaeya

Summary: You're going adventuring to the ruins on your own! The men will accompany you on the first part of your exploration to get rid of the monsters that are roaming around and you'll continue your exploration after they eliminate the monsters. Just when you think you're in the ruins alone, two people make their appearance known after watching your little performance.

Note: Fun fact! I didn't plan on making and posting Crave 6 until after I completed the recent archon quest 💀 I decided to scrap the fic that was supposed to be posted this week and chose to write a Dainsleif and Kaeya smut because I missed them and because they look so good in the recent archon quest 🫶🏻 The order goes from the people that have been in the harem the longest to the newly added men/characters. This smut is probably not my best, so I'll make it up to Dainsleif and Kaeya by giving them (hopefully) better and longer smuts in their individual mini-fics (that is still part of the Isekai'd!reader series). As previously stated in the previous Crave "series," I tried to keep the story as gender-neutral as possible. All of my smuts do lean towards female!reader/AFAB!reader with gender-neutral pronouns. As usual, minors DO NOT INTERACT! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut (as per usual), threesome, fingering, chest/breast grabbing, hickeys, public sex, cervix fucking, double penetration, slight overstimulation (???), creampie, slight breeding kink (?)

Word Count: 9.5k

Crave "Chapters": [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7]

You peek your head into the living room of the estate, debating how you’re going to ask the men for permission to go out and explore Teyvat alone. Technically you don’t need their permission to go out because you’re an adult, and you’re capable of taking care of yourself when you’re out of the estate. You want to breathe the fresh air of Teyvat, bask in the sunlight, and have some alone time for yourself! 

While you don’t mind having the men accompany you, you think some alone time for yourself would be good once in a while. Plus, it’s not like you’re going to go out and wreak havoc on Teyvat or put yourself in danger! Well, the last part, you can’t promise them that since Teyvat is filled with danger in every corner. You can’t even trust merchants, or else they will scam you and take all of your Mora!

You walk into the living room, your hands crossed behind your back while giving the men an innocent smile. They all look up from what they are doing and look at you curiously. You purse your lips and stand in the center of the living room. Now that you have gotten their attention, you’re starting to question whether you should go on with the plan or not.

“Heyyyyyy, may I ask you all something?” You ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Zhongli closes his newspaper and places it on the coffee table in front of him, reaching for his teacup and taking a sip. “You can ask us anything, dearest,” Zhongli says after taking a sip of his tea.

“May I go out and explore Teyvat on my own?” You ask, waiting for their answers.

Diluc raises his eyebrows at you. “I’m sure you can go out on your own without our permission, sweetheart,” Diluc says, fixing his gloves.

You stare at Diluc owlishly, trying to process what he just said to you. You’re allowed to leave the abode without the men’s permission and their company? This is something you’re not used to because you hardly leave the estate on your own or in general unless it’s to attend your classes. Plus, in your world, your parents never allowed you to leave the house without their permission. Then again, your parents hardly let you leave the house in general, so the men giving you the freedom to explore Teyvat on your own is a foreign concept for you.

Childe looks at you with an amused look, the corner of his lips quirking up. “Why do you have that expression on your face, snookums?” Childe asks, laughing softly.

You press your lips into a thin line. “You guys aren’t going to prevent me from leaving the abode on my own?” You ask.

“Now, why would we do that? You’re an adult. You can leave the estate by yourself whenever you want without our permission. As long as you inform us that you’re leaving and your whereabouts,” Ayato says, running his fingers through his hair.

You look at the men suspiciously, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. You’re not sure whether you should take their word for it because you know how protective they can get. Plus, you said you wanted to explore Teyvat alone. You didn’t specify the area, nor did you mention whether it would be the city or the ruins. And you want to explore the ruins. 

Xiao narrows his eyes at you. “Where are you going to explore exactly?” Xiao asks.

Ah. There it is.

You cross your arms over your chest. “I’m going to explore the ruins!” You say confidently. 

The men look at you with wide eyes, unsure what to say. Did they not tell you that you can leave the abode without needing their permission? After all, you are an adult like them. You don’t need them to hold your hand every step of the way when you’re in Teyvat. Right? Although, you don’t mind holding hands with them in general. You were, uh, using it as a figure of speech. It’s not like most of the ruins throughout Teyvat are teeming with monsters, Eremites, the Fatui, and treasure hoarders! Some ruins are empty and devoid of life. You’re going to have a look around, not pick up an artifact and take it for yourself. You want to explore the ruins because you had been researching about the ruins a few weeks ago, and it piqued your interest. 

“Any particular reason why you chose to explore the ruins? We assumed you’re going to explore the cities and villages,” Al Haitham says, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at you skeptically. 

“I had been researching the ancient ruins at the House of Daena a few weeks ago, and the topic of the ruins has piqued my interest ever since,” you reply. 

Realization dawns on Kaveh. “Oh, so that’s why you were asking me so many questions about the architecture of the ancient ruins,” Kaveh says, stroking his chin.

You clasp your hands in front of you. “So? Can I explore the ruins on my own?” You ask.

“What ruins are you going to explore? There are many ruins scattered around Teyvat,” Tighnari says, raising his eyebrows at you while his ears twitch with curiosity.

Fuck. You didn’t have a specific ruin in mind. You were going to throw darts in the dark, and wherever the dart lands, you’re going to explore the ruins in that region. Now that you think about it, where can you explore without getting into trouble with the government of that region? You’re not entirely sure if you can explore the ruins in Sumeru or Inazuma because those two regions are teeming with Eremites, Nobushis, and Kairagis. 

“You don’t have a place in mind, do you?” Cyno deadpans.

You shake your head. “None at all, but I will be staying away from Sumeru and Inazuma. The regions are beautiful, but the enemies there are terrifying,” you shiver.

Heizou props his hands on your shoulders and pinches your cheek. “Good choice on staying away from Inazuma. It’s a beautiful region to explore, but only if it’s in a populated area,” Heizou says.

If you’re going to explore the ruins on your own, you’re going to need to be prepared in case anything happens. That being said, does that mean you have permission to walk around the ruins while carrying the teapot? It’s portable, so you don’t see why not as long as the men don’t randomly pop out from the teapot while you’re walking up a steep hill of the ruins. You don’t plan on climbing up precarious cliffs; you’re not going to risk it. 

“Do you want me to pack you anything to eat while you’re out adventuring in the ruins?” Thoma asks, sitting on the couch’s armrest beside Ayato.

You tap your chin. You don’t plan on being in the ruins for too long. Perhaps from in the morning to the mid to late afternoon? For some reason, you assumed monsters would roam the ruins at night when no one’s around, but you’re optimistic that the ruins are going to be devoid of life other than your presence. 

“Lunch would be nice! I don’t plan on being out for way too long. Also, I will be carrying the teapot with me, too, if that’s okay,” you said, pursing your lips.

Venti giggles and pokes you in the belly button, making you squawk before slapping his hands away with a small glare.

“I think it’s cute that you’ll be bringing us with you on your adventure to the ruins! We’ll be with you, but not actually with you,” Venti says, leaning in his seat. 

Baizhu raises his hand. “I’ll be packing a first aid kit for you to bring on your adventure just in case anything happens. I’m optimistic you won’t get injured, but you’d never know,” Baizhu says, shrugging his shoulders.

Ah, right. How could you forget about bringing a first aid kit with you? Even though you’ll be out in the ruins (the specific location of the ruin is still unknown), you’re grateful your boyfriends are helping you prepare for your exploration. It’s not like you’ll be exploring the ruins immediately after getting their permission. You still need to prepare and make sure to bring essential items without bringing too many things that’ll weigh you down.

Aether looks at you curiously. “Are you going to the ruins today, or will that be some other time?” Aether asks.

“Tomorrow! I’m not leaving today because I need time to get things ready for the exploration tomorrow, and I need to make sure I have sunscreen with me,” you said.

Itto sighs in relief and throws his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. “That’s good to know! At least we have some time to cuddle with you before you go on your exploration!” Itto says, resting his cheek on top of your head. 

“You’re so cute, Itto,” you coo.

Itto giggles and lays his cheek on your head, stroking your hair. Your bottom lip juts out, and you reach up and squeeze his cheeks lightly. This is going to be the first time you’ll be exploring Teyvat on your own, and you’re actually nervous about it. Not because of the unfamiliar setting but because you’ll be alone for the first time, and you don’t know what’s going to happen and how things are going to go while you’re out.

“So, do you have any specific place in mind?” Gorou asks, poking your thigh to grab your attention. 

You shake your head. “Not really. I’m leaning towards Liyue, but I’m not sure if Liyue is what I’ll be sticking my mind to,” you said.

“Oh? Does Liyue bore you?” Pantalone asks, looking at Zhongli from the corner of his eyes.

You stare at Pantalone quizzically and slowly shake your head. You’ve visited Liyue plenty of times, and it’s probably the only region you have visited the most because of the food and because Zhongli would invite you and the other men to have lunch or dinner at Liuli Pavilion or Xinyue Kiosk. 

You hold a finger up. “If I do choose Liyue in the end, I will be exploring Tianqiu Valley.”

Pierro raises his eyebrows at you, crosses his arms over his chest, and sits back. “Last time I checked, Tianqiu Valley is teeming with treasure hoarders, hilichurls, geovishap hatchlings, and many more,” Pierro says gruffly.

Well, shit. You completely forgot about that. Tianqiu Valley pops up in your mind first when thinking about ruins in Liyue, other than Guili Plains. Still, you decide to stay away from Guili Plains for the sake of your safety. And for the sake of your sanity as well. 

You shrug, getting out of Itto’s grasp. “Okay, then what about the Stormterror’s Lair?”

“Also teeming with monsters, my dove,” Kazuha gives you a sympathetic smile.

You press your lips into a thin line and stare blankly at everyone in the room. There are ruins that aren’t occupied with life and monsters, but they’re usually in domains. Now that you think about it, you can still go to the ruins you have named. All you have to do is be careful and not get caught by the enemies mentioned. 

“How about this: you all can accompany me on the first part of my journey to the ruins and, you know, get rid of the roaming enemies, then all of you can retreat into the teapot, and my solo exploration can begin!” You suggest. 

Scaramouche drags out his sigh and pulls you over to him, letting you sit on his lap while he wraps his arms around your waist. Scaramouche places his chin on your head and closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I believe we spoil you too much,” Scaramouche murmurs.

You smile and giggle, snuggling up against him. “But you guys love it,” you said, poking him in the chest with your index finger and peeking at the other men in the room.

“That we do. But we’re not complaining about it,” Albedo says, smiling at you.

“You got yourself a deal. We’ll be with you on the first part of your exploration of the ruins of your choice. Once we eliminate the nearby monsters, we’ll let you continue your exploration. We will be in the teapot if you need us,” Dottore says, stroking your hair after grabbing Scaramouche’s face and shoving him away.

Capitano sighs and shakes his head. “You’re both adults, don’t start fighting like insolent children now,” Capitano says gruffly.

The two men next to you ignore Capitano’s comment. Scaramouche scowls and zaps Dottore. Dottore snorts and ignores the shoving coming from Scaramouche’s end. You sigh and let yourself zone out while Scaramouche and Dottore are bickering with each other like stray cats fighting over the last piece of a chicken nugget. You can hear everyone sigh simultaneously while Scaramouche and Dottore continue batting at each other.

Dottore ends up accidentally whacking you in the face while trying to reach for Scaramouche. Scaramouche moved out of the way successfully, but that didn’t give you enough time to process what was happening. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and you clutch your face.

“I swear, every time you men get into petty squabbles, I’m the one that gets whacked in the face or head,” you grumble.

Scaramouche pulls you to his chest, glaring at Dottore. “Look at what you’ve done! You hurt [Y/N]!” Scaramouche exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at the doctor.

Dottore ignores Scaramouche’s comment and smacks Scaramouche’s hand to the side before pulling you off Scaramouche’s lap. Dottore has you sit on his lap while he checks the area where he accidentally hit you.

You give Dottore’s bicep a reassuring squeeze. “It was an accident, so there’s no need to worry or apologize,” you say.

Instead of responding to your reassurance, Dottore presses his lips on your head while murmuring an apology. Capitano and Pierro share a collective sigh, shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their nose. 

“I think [Y/N] is less likely to be injured while out exploring the ruins alone than being in the same room as those two,” Capitano says before gesturing toward Childe, “and Childe, if the Balladeer and Childe were to bicker.”

Childe scoffs. “I didn’t even do anything, and you’re dragging me into this mess?” Childe asks, looking at Capitano incredulously. 

Pierro huffs out a laugh. “Oh, Childe, you and the Balladeer always get into petty arguments. Do you not remember when both of you were so occupied with bickering that you two didn’t realize [Y/N] nearly got run over by a sumpter beast?” Pierro raises an eyebrow at Childe. 

Oh, yeah, you forgot about that! You, Childe, and Scaramouche were tasked to gather some henna berries in the desert. Scaramouche and Childe end up arguing over whether the three of you should split to gather henna berries faster. While the two were at each other’s throats, Scaramouche chucks a henna berry at Childe and misses, only for the henna berry to hit a sumpter beast’s face, pissing it off.

You exhale through your nose. “I tried to outrun the sumpter beast, but it caught up to me so fast. I saw my life flash before my eyes, and I swear, I thought I was going to die that day,” you say, chuckling to yourself.

That day was terrifying because you nearly got trampled by a sumpter beast while Childe and Scaramouche were busy insulting each other. The three of you took so long to gather henna berries that Pantalone had to check up on the three of you, only to see nothing but chaos when he arrived at the area where you three were. Pantalone annihilates the sumpter beast with one swipe while you’re clinging onto his back, praying to the archons that you wouldn’t die by being trampled. 

The hilarious thing was when the four of you returned to the estate, Zhongli and Venti were standing at the door, waiting for your return. Venti informed you that he and Zhongli heard your prayers and was confused, worried, and horrified when a series of your prayers popped up in his head. Zhongli, on the other hand, was scolding Childe and Scaramouche on the side.

Kaeya chuckles, “It’s a good thing you’re not going to explore the ruins in Sumeru. We wouldn’t want you to relive that experience,” Kaeya says, ruffling your hair from behind the couch.

“Oh, archons, I hope I don’t have to relive the experience of being chased down by a beast bigger than all of us,” you say.

You stand up and dust stretch your arms in the air, yawning. It looks like you’ll need to sleep early tonight for your exploration of the ruins. Again, you have yet to decide what regions to explore. You wouldn’t mind exploring the ruins in Inazuma and Sumeru, perhaps you’ll do that in the future, but for now, you’re debating between Mondstadt and Liyue.

“We should help you pack a few essential items for tomorrow,” Ayato says, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs to your bedroom.

Dainsleif follows close behind. “Have you made the decision on where you want to explore the ruins?” Dainsleif asks.

You hum thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking about Liyue at first, but then I realized that I’ve visited Liyue quite often. Therefore, I am going to explore Stormterror’s Lair! It’s quite big, so there should be plenty of things for me to explore,” you answer. 

Venti laughs nervously. “If you’re going to explore the Stormterror’s Lair, please make sure not to touch any object you see on the ground,” Venti instructs.

You salute Venti. “Aye, aye, captain!” You give the anemo archon a thumbs up.

You’re not entirely sure what Venti was referring to when he instructs you not to touch any object you see lying on the ground. Still, you will follow Venti’s instructions and not pick up anything. You’re sure there’s nothing valuable at the Stormterror’s Lair. Even if there is something valuable at the Stormterror’s Layer, you don’t plan on bringing back any artifacts or souvenirs to the estate.

The men end up packing essential items for you to bring on your journey to the ruins. A first aid kit, a stainless steel water bottle, an extra water bottle, a bottle of sunscreen, and a few more items you didn’t think of because you have never gone out into nature by yourself before. Or in general. Thoma has informed you he will be packing you lunch when he gets up to make breakfast. At first, you did plan on leaving the estate to go to the Stormterror’s Lair early in the morning (before the sun rose), but you did not want to get up that early. So, you and the men opted to leave the estate around seven thirty in the morning. It’s still early, but not as early as the original time.

Dinner went on like usual, but once dinner was over, everyone began treating you like you were going to die soon. Your boyfriends spoiled the hell out of you by giving you endless kisses, cuddles, and affection. I mean, you’re not complaining about it! You love it when your boyfriends spoil you with affection and give you their undivided attention. While you hate having people’s attention, you love being the center of attention when it comes to your boyfriends.

Your yawning and stretching are interrupted when someone snakes their arms around your waist, letting their hands slide beneath your t-shirt to squeeze your chest. You squeak, let your arms fall to your side and turn to look at the person behind you with wide eyes. Itto gives you a cheeky smile and nuzzles against you, his hands on your chest underneath your shirt.

“Someone’s a little touchy today,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair.

Itto presses his lips against your neck. “As your boyfriend, I should be allowed to show my significant other my affections before they leave on an adventure,” Itto says, peppering kisses down your neck to where your neck and shoulders meet.

You giggle and stroke his hair. “Itto, I’m not going to be away for long! It’ll be a few hours! Plus, you and the others are also accompanying me on the first part of my trip,” you say.

Itto ignores your comment and continues to litter your neck with kisses, squeezing your breasts with his big hands. Before Itto can take things further, Al Haitham grabs Itto by the ears and pulls him away from you. Itto cries out in pain, and his hands slip out of your shirt while he tries to get Al Haitham to release him. 

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re going to miss [Y/N]. We’re going to miss them as much as you will, but they will be back the same day,” Al Haitham says, narrowing his eyes at Itto before releasing the now red-eared oni. 

Itto stares at Al Haitham with a deep frown on his face while clutching onto his red ear, muttering under his breath about how rude Al Haitham was for pulling his ear. You chuckle and rub Itto’s shoulders to comfort him. Itto wraps his arms around your shoulders with a pout on his face, glaring at Al Haitham from over your shoulders.

“You know, you’re pretty brave for doing that,” Kaveh says, propping his hands on his hips.

Aether and Heizou snort.

Aether points at Childe and Itto. “Those two aren’t afraid to pull a bold move on [Y/N] in front of us. You’re still kind of new to the relationship, but Itto and Childe being touchy with [Y/N] is normal,” Aether says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“We all learned to tolerate it, but sometimes they need a little smack to bring them back to reality,” Heizou adds, looking at Itto and Childe with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

You look at the clock on the wall and yawn after realizing how late it is getting. It’s a good thing you decide not to leave the estate so early in the morning. At least you and the men will be having breakfast before heading out to the Stormterror’s Lair. You don’t think you can bring both breakfast and lunch while you’re out adventuring in the Stormterror’s Lair.

“It’s starting to get late. I believe we all should get ready to go to bed,” you speak up, rubbing your eyes.

Holy crap, you did not realize you were feeling this tired until it hit you a few minutes later. Thoma carries you up the stairs while you rest your chin on his shoulders, trying your best not to fall asleep. You need to brush your teeth and prepare for bed. And by some grace of an archon, you’re able to stay awake for the next few minutes to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Once you lay on your bed, you’re nearly knocked unconscious. Your eyelids feel heavy; you’re drooping, and it almost forced you to sleep.

You snuggle against your pillows and blanket, falling in and out of sleep. The men drop by your bedroom to bid you goodnight and kiss your forehead. At least you’re able to stay up long enough to say goodnight to the last person. Once the last person, Tighnari, kisses your forehead after bidding you goodnight, you can’t stay awake any longer. You fall asleep a few minutes after Tighnari strokes your hair.

The next day, you’re woken up from your sleep by none other than Cyno himself. You groan and stretch in your bed, yawning and groaning. You blink at Cyno before sitting up, scratching the back of your head, and looking around your bedroom. 

Cyno chuckles. “Morning, sleepyhead. How was your sleep?” Cyno asks softly, stroking your hair while you lean against his leg.

“‘M tried,” you reply, closing your eyes.

Tighnari snaps his fingers in front of your face, startling you. “Don’t fall asleep on us now, [Y/N]. Today’s the day when you go out and explore the ruins, remember?” He pokes your forehead lightly. 

You nod in response. “I know, Tighnari. I’m just…. Trying my best to wake up right now. I’m still groggy from my sleep,” you say softly. “I’m going to need to drink some coffee when I get downstairs.”

You get off your bed and walk to your dresser to pull out appropriate clothing for adventuring. You won’t be surrounded by woods or grass, so you wouldn’t need to worry much about coverage. But then again, you’re not entirely sure what the weather will be like at Stormterror’s Lair. You shrug your shoulders and continue picking out a t-shirt and shorts to change into for your exploration.

You walk to your bathroom and quickly change your clothes, brush the knot out of your hair, brush your teeth, and put on deodorant. Maybe deciding to explore the Stormterror’s Lair was a mistake because getting up this early in the morning is awful. Yes, you have gotten up earlier for the Akademiya, but today was not the day. When you step out of your bathroom, Baizhu is waiting for you with Cyno and Tighnari.

“You look sleepy. Did you not sleep well last night?” Baizhu asks, looking at you worriedly when you approach them.

You rub your eyes and yawn. “I’ll be okay after I drink some coffee, Baizhu. I need more sleep, but I think once we’re at the Stormterror’s Lair, I should be a little bit awake,” you reply. You grab the three men’s hands and pull them to your bedroom door. “Let’s go downstairs for breakfast. I believe the others are waiting for us?” You ask.

The three men nod, letting you pull them downstairs with you. Even though you’re going to be out on your own for a few hours, the men aren’t exactly prepared to let you go out on your own. You’re an adult, and you can do whatever you want! They’re glad that you ask for them to join you on the first part of your exploration to eliminate the monsters roaming around the Stormterror’s Lair. 

But hey, you will be carrying the teapot with you on your adventure! You can return to the abode whenever you want or when you lose interest in exploring the ruins by yourself. Once the men get rid of the monsters roaming around the Stormterror’s Lair, there won’t be much to see other than the crumbling architecture.

You, Baizhu, Tighnari, and Cyno step into the dining room and see everyone sitting and waiting for the four of you to join for breakfast. Thoma’s eyes light up, and he gets up from his seat before walking over to the lunch box he has packed for you and walks to you, handing the lunch bag to you.

“I hope you don’t mind that I packed your favorite foods from each region. It sounds like it’s a lot, but I made sure that it’s enough to keep your tummy full,” Thoma says, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

You throw your arms around his shoulders and hug him. “Thank you, Thoma! I’ll put the lunch bag in my backpack now,” you say, pulling away from the hug and walking over to where your exploration backpack is sitting. 

Once you have put your lunch bag in your exploration backpack, you walk back to the dining room and sit between Dainsleif and Kaeya. Breakfast consisted of you and the men planning how the day was going to go. Of course, once the men have eradicated the hilichurls, mitachurls, samachurls, abyss mages, slimes, and ruin guards at the Stormterro’s Lair, they will all return to the teapot, and you continue your exploration of the ruins. While you’re excited about the exploration, you’re a bit anxious since many things can go down south quickly. 

Once breakfast was over, and dishes were washed and dried, you all set out to the Stormterror’s Lair.

Now here you are, sitting on the edge of a cliff that looks out at the view of the Stormterror’s Lair with the teapot in your lap. You watch the men split into groups to take down the enemies from a distance. You love watching the men in action; it’s entertaining and mesmerizing to you— especially when you watch them use their elemental skills or bursts. Your favorite is watching Zhongli use his burst from afar because of how terrifying and mesmerizing it looks. It’s huge! 

The sky suddenly turns dark, and you see the meteor falling from the sky, and a loud boom echoes through the ruins—your hair whips around your face from the massive gust of wind from the shockwave. 

“Are you guys done?” You call out once everything has settled down.

You get up from the ground and dust dirt off your clothes, fixing your hair and watching all of the men walk to the nearest waypoint to teleport to where you’re standing. You turn around and see the men standing there, dusting their clothes off and acting like they didn’t eradicate an entire population of monsters in the Stormterror’s Lair. 

You cover the bottom half of your face with your hand when you feel your cheeks warm up. Gosh, these men are so attractive. You don’t know how you managed to score all twenty-five of them for yourself. The men walk toward you; the closer they approach, the more your face warms up, and your heartbeat starts to pick up its pace. 

Zhongli tilts his head to the side, gazing at you worriedly. “Dearest? Are you alright?” Zhongli asks. Zhongli’s deep voice sends tingles down your spine; goosebumps appear on your arms, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Damn, now is not the time to act like a cat in heat. 

You audibly gulped, nodding in response to Zhongli’s question. “Yes, I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong with me at all!” You squeak. “Thank you, all, for eliminating the monsters that are wandering around the Stormterror’s Lair! Now I can peacefully explore the ruins without having to worry about getting smacked in the head by a hilichurl,” you say, rubbing your neck. 

Xiao places his hand on your forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re burning up, and I can feel it through my gloves,” Xiao says, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. 

You squeak, “Of course, I’m fine! I’ve been sitting under the sun, so it must be the heat from the sun that’s making me feel hot.” You fan yourself to make it look more convincing. 

Diluc sighs. “I guess we should’ve brought a hat for you to wear for your adventuring,” Diluc murmurs, closing his eyes.

“Oh, no, no! Don’t worry about me! I’ll make sure not to stay out in the sun for too long and to stand in the shadows or under the pillars to cool down,” you say. “Plus, it’s quite windy here, so you guys won’t need to worry about me overheating,” you smile at the men innocently.

The twenty-six of you stand there in silence, listening to the wind howl and whistle. It seems like none of the men wanted to leave you alone just yet. You know your exploration around the ruins isn’t going to be interrupted by ruin guards and hilichurls, so you brought your music player with you. Al Haitham has gifted it to you for getting straight A’s in the Akademiya and for getting an award for your grades. 

“We should get going; we don’t want to hold you back on your exploration,” Kazuha says, smiling at you.

Gorou frowns, his ears flattening on his head. “We’re going to miss you. Please be safe while exploring the ruins,” Gorou whimpers.

You pout and let go of the teapot, allowing it to hover in the air while you wrap your arms around Gorou’s waist. “I’ll be okay! I’ll see you all later this afternoon, I promise! I don’t plan on staying out late,” you say, pressing your lips on his cheeks. 

You release Gorou to give each man a hug before they all enter the teapot. You wave at them and look out to the Stormterror’s Lair, waiting for everyone to go inside the teapot. You’re excited to explore, but watching them leave kind of hurts. Once everyone went into the teapot, you grabbed the teapot and began your journey in the ruins that were once Old Mondstadt. You stand on the bridge that leads to the crumbling building and put the teapot down while plugging your headphones into the music player. 

You begin blasting music in your ears, picking the teapot up, and continuing your journey around the ruins. You entered the Stormterror’s Lair and surveyed your surroundings. It’s eerily beautiful. You would say that it’s quiet, aside from the sound of the howling winds, but you have music blasting in your ears that blocks out the sounds.

You close your eyes and let yourself get lost in the music. Twirling around in the center of the Stormterror’s Lair with the wind blowing in your hair, you hum and dance and sway to the music blasting in your headphones. Maybe you shouldn’t be dancing in the ruins, but you were caught in the music to notice two people lingering in the shadows, watching you enjoy yourself. You let the teapot float in the center of the building, stretching your arms in the air, sighing with contentment when the cool breeze blows through your hair, cooling down your heating neck.

You turn to walk to where the teapot is floating, only to bump into a chest, causing you to stumble back. You pause your music and look at the person with wide eyes. Dainsleif and Kaeya stare at you with amusement, the corners of their lips quirking up. You clear your throat and pucker your lips, taking your headphones off. You peek up from their shoulders to make sure the teapot is still there. You sigh in relief; the teapot is safe and sound. 

You look at Dainsleif and Kaeya. “Not that I don’t want to see you two or am disappointed in seeing you, but what are you guys doing here?” You ask.

Kaeya smiles and caresses your face. “We wanted to see how long it would take for you to notice our presence,” Kaeya replies, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

You blink at Kaeya and Dainsleif owlishly; your mouth is agape. “I thought both of you returned to the abode with the others,” you squeak.

Dainsleif lets out a thoughtful hum and runs his hands through his soft blond locks. “We did, but it was for a brief moment before returning to the Stormterror’s Lair,” Dainsleif answers.

You squint at the two men before you. “And do they know about your sudden disappearance?” You ask.

Kaeya and Dainsleif shake their heads simultaneously. You prop your hands on your hips with a huff of breath. How dare they follow you to the ruins when the others have retreated to the teapot after eliminating the monsters that were roaming around the Stormterror’s Lair. You’re not upset with them. You’re upset (well, upset isn’t the correct word, more the best way to describe how you’re feeling currently would be embarrassed) over the fact that Kaeya and Dainsleif witnessed you dancing and getting lost in the music that was blasting in your headphones.

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. “So, you two are stowaways,” you murmur, narrowing your eyes at them. “Stowaway isn’t the correct word since we’re not on boats or ships, but you two get the gist,” you say, tapping your index finger on your hips.

Kaeya laughs and pinches your cheek. “Come on, now, kitten. Do you not miss us?” Kaeya coos, raising an eyebrow at you.

You bat Kaeya’s hand away from your face and look away with your arms over your chest. “Of course, I miss you two and the others! But you two are here, and the others are unaware of it! It’s not fair for them,” you declare.

“You have been spending time with some of them individually or as a group of three. Are we not allowed to do the same?” Dainsleif asks.

Heat rushes to your face after hearing Dainsleif’s response. You have an inkling feeling that Dainsleif and Kaeya may or may not know where these hangouts tend to lead towards. Then again, you’re sure everyone in the estate knows how the hangouts typically end. Gosh, now that you think about it, if the citizens of Teyvat knew about it, they would be clutching their Sango pearls.

Kaeya takes a step toward you, and you take a step back. “Speaking of spending time with them individually or as a group of three,” Kaeya trails off, licking his lips, “what do you do when you hang out with them?”

“Uh, well, depending on who I’m with, we do things differently compared to if I were to hang out with someone else!” You squeak.

Dainsleif tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow at you. “And what did you and Albedo do compared to when you, Lord Ayato, and Thoma were in Inazuma together?” Dainsleif questions.

Dear archons. It’s like you’re being put on the hot seat. While these questions are easy to answer, you’re hoping they don’t press on any further. You don’t think your heart and pride can take it any longer if Dainsleif and Kaeya continue to press you on about the hangouts between you and certain individuals. Though, what’s there to be embarrassed about when everyone in the estate knows how the hangouts and “assistance” ends. Even if these little hangouts end with you and one of (or two of) the men balls deep inside of you, you did assist them with tasks. So, that’s something you can’t make up because it’s true! You did help them with their duties before finding yourself bent over a table or getting railed in the pantry of the Kamisato Estate. 

You poke Kaeya in the chest with your index finger. “Albedo and I were conducting experiments! As for Ayato and Thoma, I assisted them with their duties at the Kamisato Estate. Did you know that Thoma gets up at the crack of dawn to start on his duties at the Kamisato Estate?” You ask, scratching your chin. 

You don’t realize you’re rambling until Kaeya caresses your face in his hands and shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours. You shut your eyes and kiss Kaeya back, your hands reaching to grab his shirt, pulling him closer to you. You’re so occupied with Kaeya you don’t hear Dainsleif walking closer to you and Kaeya and standing behind you.

Dainsleif grabs your face and makes you face his direction, breaking the kiss between you and Kaeya. Dainsleif presses his lips against yours, and he clutches your hair while Kaeya trails his lips down your jaws and toward your neck, pressing light kisses and sucking on your neck. Your, Dainsleif, and Kaeya’s breathing becomes erratic the more the kiss continues. Kaeya and Dainsleif sandwich you between their bodies, allowing you to feel their erect cocks pressing up against your groin and ass. 

You break the kiss between you and Dainsleif, panting. “We can’t do it here,” you say breathlessly.

Kaeya sucks on the skin below your jaws. “And why’s that? You, Lord Ayato, and Thoma didn’t have an issue with having sex in a public bathhouse,” Kaeya purrs.

Your breath gets caught in your throat after hearing Kaeya’s comment. How in the world did he know about that?! Did Ayato and Thoma tell the others about your little activities when the three of you returned to the abode? Kaeya lets out a breathy chuckle when he feels you freeze underneath his lips after hearing his comment. Oh, come on, just because these men get to have their fun with you doesn’t mean he and Dainsleif can’t have their part of the fun.

You bite your lips to muffle your moan when Kaeya sucks on the sweet spot on your neck. You tighten your grip on Kaeya’s shirt and rest your head against Dainsleif’s chest. Dainsleif massages your hips and slips his hands underneath your shirt, sending shivers down your spine when his gloved hands make contact with your skin.

You gulp. “If you two are going to fuck me, might as well do it somewhere where it’s not out in the open where the rest of Teyvat can see,” you huff.

“Seems reasonable enough,” Dainsleif says.

Dainsleif wraps his arms around your waist and carries you toward the pillar. You clutch Dainsleif’s jacket tightly and shake your head. 

“Dainsleif, I don’t think this is safe. I don’t want either of us to plummet to our deaths while the both of you are railing me simultaneously,” you say, tugging on his coat lightly.

Kaeya chuckles. “If that’s what you’re worried about, then how about we do it in the center of the Stormterror’s Lair?” Kaeya suggests, walking over to the teapot and moving it to the side of the crumbling building.

Dainsleif kneels and has you sprawling out on the glowing center of the Stormterror’s Lair. You can’t help but feel titillated at the thought of being railed in the Stormterror’s Lair by Kaeya and Dainsleif. The men can step out from the teapot any time and catch the three of you in the act, or some poor adventurer can walk in on Dainsleif and Kaeya balls deep inside of you in the center of the Stormterror’s Lair. 

You whisper, “Having sex in the center of this…. Glowing floor is like having witchcraft sex,” you mutter mindlessly.

Dainsleif pauses above you and gazes at you with amusement, the corners of his lips quirking up at your comment. You and Dainsleif gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment before Kaeya kneels above your head.

“What an interesting observation, [Y/N],” Dainsleif says, leaning down to press a quick kiss on the side of your head.

Kaeya chuckles and reaches for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up to reveal your navel. “An interesting observation it is,” Kaeya says. 

You shiver when the tip of Kaeya’s fingers brush against your waist. Kaeya leans down and presses his lips against your neck, bunching your shirt up to your mid-torso and sucking on your neck, leaving hickeys behind. Dainsleif cages you between his body and the floor with his arms; he leans down and begins to leave love bites behind on the other side of your neck that wasn’t occupied by Kaeya.

Dainsleif places his gloved hand on your chest and squeezes them gently. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hold back a breathy moan when Dainsleif wraps both your legs around his waist, his hardened cock pressing up against your core. Kaeya slips your shirt off your body and turns your head to face his direction. He removes your hand from your mouth and presses his lips against yours.

Dainsleif continues to litter your neck with hickeys, occasionally grounding his hips against yours, sending shockwaves of pleasure down your spine when you can feel his cock rub against your swollen ball of nerves. Dainsleif pulls away from your neck, takes his gloves off before he reaches for your shorts, and slips his hands underneath the hems of your pants and underwear. You shiver when you feel his skin against yours.

Dainsleif takes your shorts off first, leaving you only in your underwear, almost completely exposed to both Kaeya and Dainsleif. You break the kiss between you and Kaeya, propping yourself up on the ground and narrowing your eyes at the two men with a huff.

“So, I’m going to be the only one naked while the both of you are fully clothed? How unfair,” you groused, sitting on the floor and hugging your knees to your chest.

Dainsleif stands up, towering over you. “Then what do you suggest?” Dainsleif asks as Kaeya stands beside him with his hands propped on his hips.

You grab their shirts and tug on them with a pout. “Start stripping, pretty boys. If you two want to repopulate Khaenri'ah and bring back your nation with me, you two might as well start stripping and fucking me now. Unless you two prefer Pierro and me to do that instead? There’s a small rumor saying he’s of Khaenri'ah descent as well,” you stroke your chin, biting back the shit-eating grin that was threatening to appear on your face. 

Kaeya and Dainsleif’s expressions turn sour for a brief moment before the two start taking their clothes off one by one. You watch their cloaks, shirts, vests, and gloves fall to the ground. The unfortunate thing was they weren’t almost fully exposed like you. They’re naked in the top half but still clothed in the bottom half. Judging by the looks on their faces, you can tell Kaeya and Dainsleif did not appreciate you bringing up the first Harbinger before the two of them rail you into oblivion. Hey, whatever gets their engine going, having your insides wrecked by the two of them sounds like a dream coming true. 

Dainsleif grabs your wrist and pulls you off the ground. Dainsleif wraps one arm around your waist, caressing your face with the other before pressing his lips against yours. You tangle your fingers in his soft blond hair. Kaeya presses his bare chest against your bare back, sliding both his hands up to your chest and squeezing them, grounding his erect cock against your ass.

Kaeya slides his hand down your stomach and slips his hands into your panties, rubbing and stroking your folds. You jolt in their arms, breaking the kiss between you and Dainsleif, your head resting on Kaeya’s shoulders. Kaeya inserts his index and middle finger into your entrance. You tense up at the intrusion, your nails digging into Dainsleif’s biceps. 

“Oh, fuck, Kaeya,” you moan breathlessly.

Kaeya nibbles on your earlobe, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace. “You like that, huh?” Kaeya asks, the corners of his lips curving up.

You bite on your bottom lip and nod. “I do, I really do—” Kaeya’s fingers reach the sweet spot inside you, making you squeal and tense up. “Kaeya!” You whine, feeling your entrance squeezing around his fingers.

Kaeya smirks and pulls his fingers out from inside of you, ignoring your whines of protest. Kaeya begins pinching and squeezing the engorged ball of nerves between your legs. Dainsleif starts unbuckling his belt with one hand and pressing you against his chest with the other. Kaeya follows suit, releasing your breast from his grip and unbuckling his belt with one hand. At the same time, the other hand continues to pinch and twist your throbbing ball of nerves. 

Your eyes widen when you realize Kaeya and Dainsleif are planning on taking you at the same time, in the same hole. You don’t think your entrance can stretch out that far unless it’s for birthing a baby. 

You grab Kaeya and Dainsleif’s biceps. “Wait a minute. Are you two going to be occupying the same hole at the same time?!” You squeak, looking at Dainsleif and Kaeya nervously.

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure Kaeya has prepped you enough for you to fit both of us inside of you,” Dainsleif says nonchalantly.

You shake your head. “Just don’t tear me to shreds,” you sigh.

Kaeya laughs quietly. “I can’t promise you that, kitten,” Kaeya pinches your cheek lightly. 

You sigh for the umpteenth time and close your eyes, resting your head on Kaeya’s shoulders. Dainsleif lifts your leg to his waist, tapping his thick, hot cock on your folds, coating them in your click. You shiver and mentally prepare yourself for Dainsleif to insert his cock into you. 

Kaeya fondles your chest, squeezing and massaging them. Kaeya releases your swollen bundle of nerves. You nearly shout in protest, but your objection gets caught in your throat when you feel the mushroom tip of Dainsleif’s cock nudge your entrance. 

Dainsleif looks at you. “Are you ready?” Dainsleif asks.

You suck in a breath and nod. “I can’t really back out of it. I did say I would help you and Kaeya repopulate Khaenri'ah,” you say jokingly.

After hearing your teasing response, a smile appears on Dainsleif and Kaeya’s faces. Kaeya presses his lips on your shoulders, holding your hand. You squeeze Kaeya’s hands and watch the pretty pink tip of Dainsleif’s cock slowly enter your sopping-wet entrance. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, and you squirm in Kaeya’s arms and squeeze your eyes shut. If you didn’t expect Dainsleif to stretch you out this much, then you’re definitely not prepared to be stretched out even more by Kaeya’s cock. Dainsleif presses his hips against yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Kaeya huffs through his nostrils. “No need to hog [Y/N] to yourself, Dainsleif. It’s rude not to share,” Kaeya says, stretching your right leg outward before positioning his cock near your entrance where Dainsleif’s cock is sheathed inside you.

Dainsleif rolls his eyes. “At least let them adjust to my size before you intrude,” Dainsleif grumbles. 

Kaeya holds his hands up as if he’s surrendering to Dainsleif. “Fine, I’ll allow you to have your little fun with [Y/N] for the next three minutes, but once the time is up, I’ll be joining in,” Kaeya says.

Dainsleif ignores Kaeya’s comment and begins to thrust into your warm entrance. You pull Dainsleif closer to you and wrap your arms over his shoulders, clenching your jaws each time the tip of Dainsleif’s cock hits the sweet spot inside you. Dainsleif grounds his hips against yours, his pubic bone rubbing up against your aching ball of nerves. A strained whimper escapes from your lips, your head falling back on Kaeya’s shoulders. 

Dainsleif tightens his grip on your waist and begins to hammer his cock in and out of your heat. The man before you lets out a string of moans, resting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, and rams his cock into you repeatedly. Each time the bulbous tip of Dainsleif’s cock batters your cervix, your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your toes curl.

One thrust nearly sent you over the edge, your entrance squeezing around Dainsleif’s dick tightly, and you let out a loud wail while digging your nails into his shoulders. While Dainsleif is occupied with ramming his cock inside your wet entrance, Kaeya takes advantage of Dainsleif’s distraction and covers his cock with your slick.

The loud squelching of Dainsleif’s cock ramming inside you echoes the Stormterror’s Lair, blocking out the sound of your and Dainsleif’s mingling moans. Your soft whimpers and whines of Dainsleif’s name drive him crazy, making him thrust harder and faster into your welcoming heat. Dainsleif grabs underneath your chin, tilts your head upward, and slams his lips against yours without stopping his thrusts. 

Kaeya stretches your leg outward, and Dainsleif slows his thrusts. Dainsleif comes to a complete stop and pulls away from the kiss, panting. Kaeya slowly puts the tip of his dick inside the hole where Dainsleif’s cock is nestled. Kaeya presses his chest against your sweaty back, pushing his cock inside you.

You hiss and squirm in their grasp, whining and whimpering about the painful stretch. Your face pinches up with pain, your body tensing up when your entrance is being stretched even more than you have anticipated. You dig your nails into Dainsleif’s back and Kaeya’s biceps, leaving crescent shapes on their skin. 

“You’re so tight,” Kaeya grunts, pressing his forehead against the back of your head and squeezing his eyes shut as he continues to slip the rest of his cock inside your entrance.

Your eyes blur with tears, and you whimper. “This hurts, this hurts. It’s too much!” You whine.

Kaeya lets out a deep groan when his cock is fully sheathed inside of your wet heat, his chest heaving with each breath he takes. Kaeya and Dainsleif let you adjust to having both their cocks inside of your stretched hole, occasionally shooting each other glares from over your shoulders. Once you gave them the signal to start, Kaeya thrusts up into you, nudging Dainsleif’s cock with his and your cervix with the tip of his cock. The three of you groan simultaneously when your entrance tightens around their long, thick cocks. Kaeya tangles his right hand into your hair, tugs on it, turns your head to face his direction and slams his lips against yours while hammering his cock into you over and over. 

“Oh, fuck!” You gasp against Kaeya’s lips when Dainsleif thrusts inside of you, making sure to rub his pubic bone against your throbbing nub.

Dainsleif buries his face into your neck, biting, licking, and sucking on your neck. Dainsleif and Kaeya decide to have an unspoken competition with each other. Whoever fucks you the hardest, makes you cum the hardest, and make you moan the loudest, is the winner. It’s petty and childish, but they don’t care because as long as they hear those pretty sounds coming from you, Kaeya and Dainsleif will continue to do what they’re doing to listen to it over and over again.

Kaeya and Dainsleif begin to plunge their cocks in and out of you at different paces, making you writhe in their arms, your legs kicking in place while they fuck their hard cocks deep inside you. Frustrated with you squirming around, Kaeya and Dainsleif grab your legs and spread them far and wide apart while continuing what they’re doing.

You pull away from the kiss, panting and whimpering while Dainsleif and Kaeya plunge their cocks in and out of you at a rapid pace. 

“Kaeya! Dainsleif! It’s too much!” You squeal, saliva trailing down the side of your lips. “I don’t think I can hold on any longer!” You whine, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Kaeya chuckles and kisses the side of your head. “Oh, come on, pretty. I think you can last a little bit longer,” Kaeya coos, clenching his jaws and pressing his hips hard against yours, groaning.

Dainsleif lets out a breathy chuckle. “Besides, aren’t you the one that suggests we repopulate Khaenri'ah?”

“Yeah? Aren’t you?” Kaeya asks, nosing your jaws and breathing in the smell of your shampoo and conditioner.

You whine and nod. “Yes, I am,” you pout, your bottom lip trembling the more Dainsleif and Kaeya thrusts into you. 

You can feel your impending orgasm, a tight coil forming in your lower abdomen, ready to unravel at any moment. You didn’t think Dainsleif and Kaeya could go any faster, but they somehow proved you wrong. Kaeya and Dainsleif drill their cocks into you, pressing their hips against yours hard, chasing their release. The walls of your sopping-wet entrance clench around their cocks as the tight coil in your lower abdomen tighten and snaps.

Your head falls back, your mouth opens in a silent scream, and your eyes squeeze shut as you cum around the men’s cocks. Dainsleif and Kaeya soon pump their cum deep inside you, coating the inside of your entrance white. You go limp in their arms, breathing heavily, and your eyes are glazed over. Dainsleif and Kaeya continue to keep their cocks plugged inside you to prevent their cum from spilling out of you.

“I don’t think that’s enough to repopulate Khaenri'ah,” you breathe.

Dainsleif snorts. “Oh? Do you want a second round?” Dainsleif asks, raising his eyebrows at you as he wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

You blink at the blond man and look around. The sun has yet to set. It seems like time barely passed when Dainsleif and Kaeya witnessed you getting lost in the music blasting through your headphones. Fuck it.

You shrug your shoulders. “I think we still have some time before we need to return to the abode. Plus, the Stormterror’s Lair is pretty big,” you murmur, deep in thought.

Kaeya’s eyes widen. “Are you implying we should fuck you in every place and surface in the Stormterror’s Lair?” Kaeya asks.

You purse your lips. “I mean…. We still have time, and there’s plenty of places to explore here,” you trail off.

Dainsleif and Kaeya look at each other for a brief moment.

“We’ll take you up on that offer,” Dainsleif says, wiping saliva off the corner of your lips with a faint smirk on his face.

You don’t know how many rounds you’ll need to repopulate Khaenri'ah with Dainsleif and Kaeya, but it’s an honor to test to see how many rounds it takes for you to lose your voice entirely and how much cum Kaeya and Dainsleif can stuff inside you before having to return to the estate.

Note: I'm thinking about making another fic like "The Lonely God," but I'm not too sure 🧍🏻‍♀️ I've been busy trying not to lose my mind because of university, but it's going to consume me soon 💀 I have a lot of story ideas, but so little time to work on them at once ;v; but it's fine. They'll be published one day when I have time to work on them. I think I might start a new smut series soon for the current isekai'd!reader series, but I'm not too sure 🤔 I officially have no more space to add more tags for my fics ;v; I wish Tumblr would let us add a few more tags for our posts ;v; Anyway! Please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kwelibeeery, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @alteeeeyang, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @urlocalheizousimp, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @bajifairyy, @heyimkay, @milkpeanuts476, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @wynncrites, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

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[ronearoundblindly]

The Root Of All Ransom (Finale)

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see previous or series)

Summary: Ransom figures out how to undo his disinheritance.

Warnings for language (I'm never kidding about how many f-bombs this boy drops), smut (blowjob, p in v sex that is consensually unprotected, general smuttery), vague contemplations of murder but we ain't going the canon route. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty else for you to read on my Light Masterlist. This is not your story!

I have somehow managed to put Ransom Drysdale deep in his feels. This is only OOC if you haven't read up to this point, but we do end on a soft!Ransom note. WC 6954 (oh my fucking wat???)

Ransom huffs out a foggy breath in the night air, cold in more ways than one. All the windows glow from the mansion, yet it looks completely different in light of what Harlan’s done.

Thrombey Manor is his birthright. He doesn’t love the architecture or the eccentric layout. He hates the furniture. He’s never really enjoyed anything about the place. It’s the polar opposite of his own house, but it was his in a way, part of his status, part of his baseline of existence. He’s not prepared for any other eventuality. Ransom built his life on a perfectly stable bridge that some idiot just blew up with C4.

No, no, not some idiot. His own family. The only member of his family he would think could never do this to him. Fuck Harlan.

Ran’s been flying high on a lie, and the magic money carpet’s been ripped away.

He has one lifeline, one option he’s grasping onto.

If he can manage this, nothing will change. He won’t lose the allowance. He won’t lose you. You’ll never know how unworthy he is. He can just have everything and never speak of this again.

Harlan. Marta. Inheritance. Killing two birds with one liquid stone.

Ran could do it. He will do it, but you cannot know. He can’t have you around. He has to push, to start giving you a safe distance, to leave you plausible deniability. If you suspect, you’ll leave him anyway. 

If he succeeds, worst case? He’s rich and alone. If he does nothing? He’ll be poor and alone.

One of those scenarios used to be acceptable, but not now, not anymore.

Pushing you away tonight might be the last time you ever look at him without pity, and he’s not ready for how heavy that sits in his roiling gut. He has to though. He has to make you leave, if only for the rest of the night—but it might be forever, his brain reminds him. Fucker. It’s not like Ran’s pleasant to be around. Getting away from him shouldn’t be a hard sell.

When you emerge from the house, however, what he hoped would sound sharp and dismissive sounds oddly open-ended.

“You could just walk from here,” he tries wishfully.

True to form, beautiful, pissed-off you sidesteps his expectations.

You take his coat, your coat, and the Birkin to the passenger’s side with a ferocious look.

“Get in the car,” you manage through tight lips.

Fuck. He misses you already. He hasn’t given up. He won’t, but his center of gravity is gone. He’s reeling from this.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale revolves around money.

His whole life he has stretched wide and greedy limbs to capture numbered, green rays of meaning. He hasn’t only lost the light of his sun now. No. Nuclear winter has just stripped him bare and knocked him on his ass. Ran cannot articulate all the reasons he’s so upset.

He values you and him together for relatively selfish reasons. From all he’s seen, you don’t need any more people in your life that exist so far below you. You don’t need ‘help.’ You need an equal, a free and independent equal. Ran isn’t even fucking close anymore.

With a stroke of a pen, he’s now dependent. It’s pathetic. If he stays without even the means to be your not-quite-equal, then he’s everything he hates. He’ll be clingy. He’ll be needy. He’ll be in the way. He’ll finally do it; he will annoy you.

He will bore you.

What a fucking world.

You snap him out of his dashboard stare.

“Do you want to talk about it now or at home?”

“Neither,” he quips easily. “I’ll drop you at the Carlyle’s.”

His eye twitches at his faux pas. You don’t have to correct him. He knows it’s your place, your name, your property, and your right to claim. He doesn’t need reminding.

His key twists in the ignition just as your hand comes up to his shoulder.

He can’t even glare at you properly because a tap rings off his window pane. Both of you jump in alarm because night fell hours ago. Who sneaks up on a car in the fucking dark?

Ran’s father is fucking who. Of course. The window peels down, and Ransom feels as if the last seconds of his life are draining away after the plug’s been pulled.

“Trouble in paradise, you two?” Dick asks with cheeky concern.

“No, Mister Drysdale,” you say politely, no hint of insincerity in your smile.

“Richard, please, honey. You’re practically family.”

Smug asshole, do NOT call her ‘honey.’

“Eat shit,” Ransom mutters overly loud again, but your sudden slow grip on his kneecap tells him to behave. Ol’ Dick has no right to call you ‘honey’ though. Ran’s not even sure what he’s allowed to call you, and he’s pissed, sure. He’s���something else, too; he’s obedient beneath your hand.

Richard ignores Ran’s attitude. “Listen, son, I just wanted you to know that whatever happens, your mother and I will always love you. In case…ya know, in case you ever doubted, and…well, we’re family. We stick together.” He even gives Ran a squeeze on the shoulder for emphasis.

Ransom has no fucking clue what his father intends with that entirely useless statement but doesn’t fucking care. “You know what?” He’s about to lunge out the window to choke that fucking prick. “Definitely eat shit.”

Your grip tightens, and Ran’s insides clench, knowing he toes a line.

“We should really go,” you add with a now painful, strained civility.

“Okay, you crazy kids,” Richard pats his heavy hand on the door frame. “Thanks for coming to the party and we’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Of course, Richard.”

Ransom rolls the window back up without looking at you. That sure as shit was not his father’s reaction to Harlan throwing millions at Marta fucking Candelabra. He can’t be near these people anymore, so Ran slams his foot on the gas, peeling out of the driveway, and scattering gravel in his wake.

Your sigh releases with the pressure on his knee. “I suspect it’s about his affair.”

As if that narrows it down. “Which one?”

“The first one as far as your grandpa knows,” you snort, “which hopefully Linda buys too from the way you’ve talked about it. Jesus, really? Slow down!”

Ran doesn’t want to slow down. The car is finally catching up to his racing thoughts and a plan coalescing. If Harlan knows about Richard’s affair, then his mother will absolutely divorce him, leaving Dick with nothing—and if you know that Harlan knows about it then—

“Hugh—” the hand has slid from his knee to his crotch, the heel of your palm gently digging into the stiff fabric of his jeans “—we should have taken care of you before…”

Fuck, that feels good.

You’re right, of course. Ran really should have planned a few minutes of privacy for you both to get off after the airport. Not that it’d have to be private for him (parking lot, terminal, or tarmac—he wouldn’t fucking care), but the thought flashes in his mind like the bright spots behind his eyelids that he might not get to fuck you again. That’s profoundly upsetting, and your grip on the outline of his swelling cock is profoundly distracting.

He swats at your arm, blood rushing to his tension-white knuckles only for a second, but you simply swivel in the seat to change hands, dragging down his zipper.

“Sweetheart“ slips out. Is he allowed to say that anymore? He should still act normal, right? Except he’s been a raging mess for a quarter-hour already and oh fuck. “What are you…”

Ran’s been wrong this whole time: you are a road head bitch.

He’s so taken aback by your spit-slicked lips cooly brushing the head of him that he nearly elbows your spine. The car swerves slightly as he strains to collect himself, to think of just one other thing instead of your fucking tongue sliding down his length to tease at his still-covered balls and—

Mother of fucking mercy, he has to pull over.

Only by some miracle, some blessed (or horrible) gap in his distraction, is he able to consciously choose parking off the lane just beyond the menagerie elephant statue because, otherwise, that pervy-ass groundskeeper could relive his long-forgotten past of grainy porn. Because that’s what this is turning into. Pornographic is the only way to describe the choked grunt Ran finally lets out as he slams on the brake and you snap the car into park just to get the gear shift out of your way.

“I’m only here three days,” you say around a mouthful of cock, bobbing a few more times before switching to your hand. “I’m not letting you ruin it by being fucking baby.”

“I’m not—fuck—“ he’s not expecting you to climb over him in the cramped car “—you don’t understand.”

“So you don’t want me right now?”

He shakes his head furiously, half in hope of collecting genuine thought, half in desperation for you to continue.

Space is so limited between Ran’s body and the steering column that your bent knees pin his arms to the door and the console. It should hurt but fuck if he’s gonna say anything while he watches you peel your panties to the side and line yourself up. 

“Gah, you just—“ he pants as his heart rate spikes. Instead of putting him in you, Ran’s paralyzed to stop two of your fingers from sinking into your soaked pussy. You’re drooling for him, mouth and cunt, and goddamn, he is so torn between pounding you into next week or tossing you out of the car to get on with his plan.

It’s about an 80/20 split in favor of fucking you.

And then he thinks…yeah, he could definitely get off and get you to the Carlyle’s—your place—in time to sneak back. So he just lets go, shoving his face forward to capture your lips, enjoying the wet sounds as you prep for him, and eating up your moans and curses. He knows you’re purposefully dragging your knuckles against his dick as you bring them out with each stroke. Why are you so fucking hot? Why can’t he just have this without Harlan’s help? 

He’s dependent.

Ran realizes he always was, but he fucking hates it.

Removing your fingers makes the bunched-up dress pool over your hips and graze his raging erection. Great, now your spit and his precum are smeared all over your clothes. Normally, that wouldn’t bother him. Normally, that would be even hotter. Now, Ran wonders how much that damn thing costs because he never even looked; he just knew it suited you.

A steady grip at his base and suddenly Ran can’t wonder about any fucking thing under the sun. Your walls welcome him inch by inch like he’s goddamn worthy of that silky squeeze, but he can’t say shit. All he can manage is craning his neck forward to mouth over your nearest breast, arms still pinned. Fuck it. More fluids on the dress. If you don’t care, he doesn’t care. Maybe. Maybe he’ll just care later. Maybe he’ll learn to look at the cost of things. Maybe he won’t have to when he succeeds at fixing this dumpster fire of a situation.

His teeth graze against a barely felt but hard-peaked nipple, and you gasp out another moan. You have to shift to wedge your leg down by his side and repeat with the other one. One of his forearms is tingling, asleep, so he switches his mouth around and uses the functioning arm to play.

You’re moving so slow, too slow.

“You fucking love to mess with me,” Ran growls, all but biting through the layers before yanking at the neckline, savoring the plush skin he exposes. “Love fucking me,” he mutters again.

“Yeah, baby, why do you think that is?” You use the name so condescendingly and roll your hips so deliberately that Ransom bites back a ‘fuck you,’ instead forcing out a strangled whine. You just drag yourself up and down until he answers, pushing his t-shirt and an errant tail of his cardigan out of the way. Your fingers gently scratch the flat plain of his abs.

“Say it.”

He knows the answer. He’s known for a while, but that’s not something Ran’s ever gonna be ready for. It’s just already the truth.

It’s as soft as a hum against your skin.

“Say it, Hugh. Tell me why.”

He can tell by how you’re getting sloppier with your movement, by how hard you grind forward against him, that you’re close.

“Because you love me.” Ran winces at how desperate he sounds. It’s almost a cry, but he can’t really resist repeating it. “You love me.”

Your hands bury in his hair, and he’s literally covered in you while trapped in this fucking steam room of a car. He can’t control anything he’s doing.

“You love me,” he says again.

“Yes.”

“You love me.”

“Fuck, yes, baby.”

You’re fluttering around his cock like a dream, shouting encouragement, and it just slips out.

“I love you.”

He has no idea if you even hear him because you come so hard that your back bends, slamming you against the steering wheel.

The horn blares in the quiet woods.

You wait for him to yank you forward and erupt into sated giggles while Ran is a whole different kind of paralyzed, hiding his face in your chest for as long as you’re simmering without care.

Your fingers card through sweaty hair, your heartbeat slowing more than his does.

“Think you need this,” you say in a breathy whisper. You pull away to cradle his face.

He’s terrified you’re gonna ask. You’re gonna want him to say it again, he thinks, and Ran’s not sure he can with your eyes boring into his, knowing what he knows, being what he is until the will is void.

“I want you to come, Hugh.” Your thumb traces across his bottom lip, gaze following before it flickers back up.

You sound so fucking innocent while your slick is smeared all over his low belly and seeping through his underwear. His boxers are kinda in the way but kinda immovable while in such cramped quarters. Pushed aside, they hinder only as much as your bunched-up panties do. Easy enough to live with.

You keep staring expectantly.

“Do you want me to stop—“ fuck NO “—or will you give me what I want?”

Ran’s whole chest clenches, and it’s only because he slams his mouth to yours that you can’t see his eyes roll in fucking ecstasy. Perfect. You’re goddamn perfect. He couldn’t deny you anything much less this, and he knows that if this is the last time, he has to take advantage.

Sliding down slightly on the seat (because everything operates in centimeters at most this close), he takes two giant handfuls of your ass and spreads you, lifting so he can thrust his hips up at a brutal pace. He doesn’t fucking care if his knees bang against unyielding metal. He doesn’t care that a vein in his neck might snap from strain. He just needs this one thing, and then he’ll let it go. He’ll be ready for whatever outcome Harlan’s death triggers.

Because Ransom needs money. He had money long before he had you. It’s what he needs the most in life. He loves money.

If losing you is what it takes to keep the money…

That’s the thought he can’t finish as control of the urge to come slips from his bruising fingers. His desire for his status quo is faltering. His equilibrium’s changed.

He does love money. He does.

Now, to Ran's surprise, he loves you, and he has no fucking clue how to love both. He doesn’t know if he can keep both.

But friction is friction. He’s surrounded by the feel and sound and smell of sex. It’s familiar and more than a little haunting to him if this is the last time, but Ran crests that mountain before any coherent thoughts form. He can’t trust himself to speak. He might repeat what he never should have said aloud.

The groan when he empties himself inside you is almost pained, swallowed immediately by your adoring and hungry kiss. He’s sweat straight through his t-shirt and his jeans are a fucking mess. Your dress is damp, stained, and wrinkled. You’re practically bonded to the leather seat, but he just absently runs the back of his fingers up and down your thighs while he comes down.

When you release his mouth, your arms settle across his shoulders, and he buries his face in your chest again, hiding, relishing, stalling.

Shit, he’s gonna miss this.

After a minute, you rest your forehead against his and lift your hips until his limp dick slides out of you. Through half-closed eyes Ran watches you bite your bottom lip, gnaw on it like he wants to, like he moves to—

“Is this about the will?”

Ran freezes.

“Did—Harlan told you, didn’t he?”

“WHAT THE SHIT.” Ran’s rage explodes, heaving you off of him and into the passenger’s seat. “YOU FUCKING KNEW?!”

He shoves himself back in his pants and scrambles for the damn zipper.

“Ransom, it’s fine. He just—“

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you warn me? Jesus FUCK.” He’s unlatched and kicked the door open before you even get a word out.

“Harlan is my friend and—“

But he slams it shut, leaving your words muffled while Ran fumes in damp fucking clothes in the frigid air.

His fists almost—almost—pound on the hood of his car as he bites out, “I could have killed him.” 

Ran’s pacing toward the tree line when you finally shuffle from the beamer, pulling your dress back into place.

“Harlan’s my friend and he asked me in confidence if it made sense.”

“I’m sorry, he asked you? As in, my grandfather might not have done this if you hadn’t thrown me under the bus.”

“It wasn’t just about you.”

“It makes sense to leave me destitute? And you knew! You lying bitch,” he growls, immediately wishing the word hadn’t popped out, clawing at his scalp in a punishing attempt to think. “You watched me throw all that fucking money away and didn’t think I deserved to know?!“

“I’ve met you. Why would you listen to me about how to spend your money? That isn’t something you do, Ransom.”

“That’s not the point!” And stop calling me fucking ‘Ransom.’ “I can handle myself.”

“Then I guess your answer is ‘that’s how you spent the money,’ by choice.”

“I wasn’t given a choice. You lied to me. You’re the one who didn’t trust me.”

Your stalk forward in the dry leaves, stopping just outside of arm’s length away. “What the hell did I just say in there, huh? I love you. I said I love you, then you go and call me a bitch, so who’s the liar between us, huh? Who’s got trust issues?”

Ran’s face scrunches in distain. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Guess,” you spit back easily. 

Well, he isn’t fucking saying it now. Fuck you. Fuck this. This is the worst-case scenario: poor and alone because if you know, he can never get away with his plan.

“Why do you always do that?” he growls with a venom that poisons no one but himself. “Why the fuck are you here then?” Why are you with him?

“I’m here to support my piece of shit boyfriend at a piece of shit family event because Hugh asked me to.”

Nope. The right name is wrong. It sounds much worse than he expected.

Ran doesn’t know what to do with all this sick energy churning in his gut except burn through it. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with his life.

“There it is. There’s the truth,” he yells, leaning into your face. “I know it. You know it. This isn’t going to work. We’re not the fucking same. We’re not even close—“

“I don’t want someone the same as me.”

“I’m a useless—”

“Ran.” Your hands fly to gently land on his face.

“—talentless—“

“Seriously, please.”

“—sack of shit and you—“

“HUGH!” The grip at his jaw slips as he jerks back.

Ran tenses, shoving his chilled fingers into his jean pockets, pushing the wet material in front away from his crotch. He goes awkwardly quiet.

Yelling. He remembers the yelling. He’s been comfortable with yelling for longer than he’s been comfortable with affection.

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up.” You cross your arms over you chest and shiver. “This. This bullshit is why I didn’t tell you, but so what? You don’t have your own money. How do you think Harlan and I started out?”

He gives a look that shouts back everything he can’t put into words.

“You’re not useless or talentless. You’re entitled. That’s all, and you can change that state of being pretty fucking easily.”

“How? What am I supposed to do? Be a houseboy who eats you out once a week?”

“A week? Well, I hope I pay better than that.”

“Oh, what the fuck,” he grouches.

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that. “You started these jokes!”

“You don’t have to rub it in—”

“—just rub it out, huh?”

He doesn’t want to laugh. It’s not funny. His fate isn’t a laughing matter, but like everything else tonight, he fucking fails. A smile twitches at his lips.

“Ok, asshole, you want to be useful? How ‘bout driving us home? I’m freezing.”

He starts to protest but is cut off by a flinging arm.

“If you don’t get in this damn car, you will be helping me balance to pee in those woods.”

“Fucking gross,” Ran whines.

“Yeah, well, your ability to self-access is appalling too,” you jovially clap back, “but we’re working with what we’ve got.”

Fair.

Savage but fair.

He frowns and follows you into the car.

You talk his ear off on the way to his house, but he isn’t in the least bit annoyed. He’s engrossed. It’s all a type of flattery Ransom can hardly fathom: honest praise.

“I was miserably alone before you.”

He wouldn’t have pegged that based on how he saw you at all those events, but now that he considers how you’ve opened up about your frustrations and the exhaustion of being the center of attention, it makes sense. Ransom takes attention away from you. He loves that shit. He doesn’t even care if it’s negative attention. Hide behind his broad back and shine that spotlight on him; he’s game.

“You know what people you pay to be around you—people who want something from you don’t do? Argue. No one has a real conversation. No one has an opinion contradictory to yours. No one calls you out on your shit. It’s so…”

“Boring,” he whispers without thinking.

There’s a long pause until you continue softly.

“No one calls me out on my shit except you, only you.“ 

Your hand finds his. Though your skin is cold, he’s warmed by the touch. 

“So no, I don’t think my money will change anything. If money—mine or yours—were going to change you, it would have done it by now. I mean, sure, you could stand to be less of a dick sometimes, but you don’t have to. I already…”

Your voice trails off, and Ran knows. That’s just it. You love him and he’s a dick, the poor asshole who understands what the feeling is, the one who can’t say it, not on purpose, not yet. The tectonic shift in his life’s framework leaves him uneasy. As wonderful as you are, as perfect as this has been, he has to start over.

He has to build himself up from scratch. He’s been transplanted to an alien planet that he doesn’t have the means to make hospitable. Money was his means to everything. Money provided for him. Money protected him. Money separated him from others.

He never had space for two in his now-demolished castle of selfishness.

“I thought I’d be with someone so different from you,” you laugh without heart. “I’m…glad I was wrong.”

All he can manage is a squeeze of your hand.

“But Hugh, you’re proud of my success, not fucking threatened by it. You let me work, but you also know when I need a break and won’t take one. You’re devoted without being smothering because you have your own damn life, things you want to do. You aren’t intimidated by all this shit in my stupid world or the money. You don’t give a fuck what other people say.”

That’s true.

“You make me laugh,” you say quietly, and though he can’t see your face in the dark of the road leading to his neighborhood, he hears your smile. “You asshole.”

As he turns into the driveway, he glances over and winks. “I try my best, sweetheart.”

He watches that throwaway statement melt you, and then he realizes why.

Ransom trying to do absolutely fucking anything is a big fucking deal, and he has tried. He simply has no idea where to go from here.

He turns off the beamer and makes no move to get out.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Your hand releases his to glide up his arm and lace through his hair, lightly rubbing the base of his neck. “Help me,” you breathe.

“How the fuck would I help you?”

“Hugh,” you cock your head to the side, retracting both arms to brush your palms down the fabric of your (ruined) skirt, “you know damn well you’d like to control my whole wardrobe. You would do far better dressing me for all those functions than I do…and undressing me.”

He knows what you’re doing, but instead of smiling or laughing, he tightens his jaw and huffs. “Can I burn some of your—“ he does half air-quotes “—'wardrobe?'”

It’s so hideous. That one black dress you keep fucking wearing? No amount of dry cleaning will make that look new again. That’s getting flambéed.

You purse your lips. “Donate, but yes. I would consider that a huge help.”

“You’re serious.” Ran’s not sure whether he means it as a question or a statement.

“Yes. I am. Thank you for noticing.” You swivel to open the door. “Now, you can also help get my bag in while I use the restroom.”

The dance of readying for bed becomes you pointing out things you have now that you did not have before him. Taste being one of them, Ran thinks to himself. The important thing is he could say that to your face, but he’s strategically not pushing his luck tonight.

It’s true. Nearly every article of clothing and every toiletry now links back to his insistence that you have nice things that are for you, not just for life in general. You come before the rest of the world; you come before your work. That’s his gift. That’s what he’s good at, and you make it clear: you need him for that talent.

All of these nice things, all these reasons he seems good to you, and all this need for him have Ran feeling some sorta way when you crawl into his bed naked and reach to turn off the light.

He grabs your hand before you make it to the switch, forcing it back to the mattress, keeping you facedown. His heated breath and heavy body roll over you, teeth grazing your shoulder and moving slowly to your earlobe.

“You know what else I’m good for?”

His free hand slips between your thighs and finds what slick you couldn’t clean up. The knowledge that some of it is his cum still inside you makes Ran shudder. How would he ever have lived without this?

You sigh, your mouth falling open at the intrusion, and your eyelids flutter closed.

“Fuck,” you moan, high and quiet.

“That’s right, baby,” he hisses, mimicking your condescension from the car. Oh yeah, he’s gonna ruin more than that goddamn dress tonight.

He takes time to torture you with his fingers, his weight rendering you immobile. Ran sweeps falling hair out of your face with free reign to pepper open-mouthed kisses across the stretch of skin he’s claimed since that very first fuck.

You always knew what you wanted. He never thought you’d truly want him, certainly not for more than a day. After tonight, it’s inconceivable you want him still, yet here you are, burying your face in the sheets to muffle little cries as he humps your ass cheek to get harder and harder.

Good god, why do you want him? He fucked around, he yelled at you, he called you horrible names, he left you for weeks at a time in a foreign country alone, and yet you are here.

Then your words spring to mind. He argues with you. He has opinions. He makes you laugh. He treats you like the independent person you are. He treats you like your money doesn’t matter.

Because it didn’t to him.

Ransom realizes now that you treat him as if his money didn’t matter because it doesn’t to you. Nothing changed when you knew he wouldn’t have it anymore. Not a single thing. Somewhere over the last months, Harlan told you his plan, and the only perceptible difference to Ran was you falling in love with him.

Because you love him. He is so grateful he’s almost angry. You could do better. He can give you better.

By the time you come on Ran’s fingers, he’s completely feral thinking about all those little ways you showed your feelings, all the ways you showed him kind touch is not weakness. You also showed him that touch doesn’t have to be weak to be kind. He can be rough with his feelings for you, intense as they are. He can sink his cock into you, practically screaming that he loves you, too, but the words aren’t spoken.

He presses a thick forearm across your back to keep you pinned. He spreads his legs to widen yours. He thrusts in possessive and messy movements. No words escape. His range of motion is limited this way, but he gets all of your glorious noises. They’ve become his favorite sleep track. It’s hard for him to rest without hearing your happy, panicked pleasure beforehand.

You make desperate fists in the sheets and arch your ass up higher. He sees the unnatural strain in your body, all for him, all so he can have just that fucking tiny bit more of you.

He can’t stay in this position forever though. You’ll never come again like this, and he wants to see your face. The car was dark, but the lamp is still on. He can watch you fall apart with him deep inside.

“Turn,” he orders, enjoying how dazed and shaky you are as you struggle to control your muscles.

You’re a sight. Erratic breaths hardly settle your gasps. Pliable and ruined. Torn to whimpering pieces and stitched back together only to be split apart again.

He drinks in his handiwork, climbing slowly between your legs, delicately helping to cross your heels at his ass, and sinking back into your heat slowly, so slowly, like your teasing in the car.

“Hugh,” you mutter, and fuck, he has never heard you beg.

Ransom has always loved sex, but this is different. He meets your glazed eyes with floundering blue depths and wonders why he can’t just enjoy it as basic sex anymore.

He’s always loved money, too, and although he doesn’t want to take it from you, Ran feels the weight of your charity. Money was his sun, his whole world, but it was not enough. You provide more, warmth that lets him spread out in contentment, light that keeps him from withering.

Money doesn’t need his love; it’s indifferent.

You, on the other hand, you are fucking radiant, glowing and hot with his arm tucked beneath your shoulders to grab at your hairline. He makes you look at him. Your fingernails scratch at his back while your hips grind together.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles, nose almost touching yours. “Come on, sweetheart—“ Ran drops to lave kisses down your bared throat “—one more for me.”

This time, you have no words, only grunting uh and hng as he speeds up. Your noises get higher. Ran gets rougher, a brutal rhythm for a brutal realization.

He can’t hold back when he sees you like this; he’s gonna say it.

He gets close, so very close to breaking, but you fall first.

“Please—ah.”

You fucking writhe beneath him, your whole body spasming like your silky pussy ripples over the sensitive skin of his cock.

“That’s it,” he coos in your ear. “That’s right. Good girl.”

He has to chance meeting your eyes because he wants to see you unravel again. Ran always does whatever he wants.

He slows his hips to intermittent thrusts that sizzle your nerves over and over, pulling his arm out from under you to lift your chin. You’re open for him in every sense of the word, and he is fucked in every possible way.

He’s an amoeba of a man staring evolution in the face.

You’re his. It’s clear in the light that he owns you. He’s earned you, or at least, he’s trying to. That’s a big deal for Ransom Drysdale.

Quivering, your mouth hanging open, his thumb rolling over your swollen bottom lip, he gets one word.

“Daddy.”

Barely a whisper, partly a question, but mostly an invitation. He slides his thumb up into your mouth, only letting you suck on it for a moment before it drags out.

Ran never thought you’d ever say that. He never imagined you’d beg either. You’ve always known what you want and taken it. You have never needed anything from him.

“Please,” you say again, holding your mouth wider still.

Shit. He throbs at the prospect, and he’s too far gone to deny you this. He plants one small peck on your jaw before pulling out and clambering over your hips and chest.

“Ah fuck,” he moans when you suck on one of his balls, stroking him with a smooth and firm grip. “Love y—love your mouth…so much.”

Ran leans against his headboard, hand clamped over his trap in a desperate attempt not to blabber, but you continue. You’re in tune with when he’s ready, when you’ve taken the teasing far enough and he needs to come. His hips stutter to shove himself just a little farther down your throat. He collects his wits only enough not to choke you, muffling a cry.

You’re gentle with him as he loses his absolute shit trying to keep it together, thighs shaking, breath hindered, biting the fuck out of his hand.

“Sorry, I…” he tries.

“I…I—“ he tries again.

He just can’t fucking do it.

Ran digs his palms so hard into his eyes he sees stars. His chest is tight like it’ll explode any second. The relief of orgasm has evaporated instantly, and he just really fucking can’t.

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, shifting up onto your kneels behind him, “it’s okay.” Your warm arms encircle his chest, over one shoulder and under the other, and you pull his own pliable and ruined body toward you.

He collapses back on his heels, leaning against you.

“Hugh, it’s alright.” Your whisper makes his eyes sting. “I know.”

Ran raises his arms to hold your wrists. His head drops to kiss the back of your hand. He still stays silent.

“I know…”

Your bare legs stretch across his lap, and Ransom lets the hand warmed by his mug grasp your ankle gently. You’re off in your own mind, staring out the window of his living room, worrying your bottom lip. He watches while you don’t notice.

Ran never particularly liked the unknown, and after Harlan’s shit last night, he’s off surprises for a fucking lifetime. This, however, this with you, sitting in comfortable quiet, makes him feel perfectly at ease with an unsure future.

For someone so fascinating to him, you’re so normal.

Sure, you’re beauty trumps the view outside, you’re dedicated to your work, and you’re smart enough to run circles around anyone, but…

You’re just you, sitting with a hot drink on his couch in the morning, wearing one of his sweaters again. Could be a sixty-dollar sweater from a thrift shop—or six cents for all Ran knows about secondhand sales—or the six-hundred-dollar one that he stoopidly bought three weeks ago; it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing that matters to him now is who wears it. That garment means nothing without you in it.

You sip at your tea, and he follows, staring at you staring at the world.

You two spoke more about it last night in the dark about everything but that one little phrase that’s eating him alive, a tangled mess of yourselves and the sheets. Nothing has to change except where the money comes from. Ran gets what he’s wanted all along: control over your wardrobe and, essentially, your entire presentation to that world you’re staring out into. He is not, however, permitted to burn your favorite Little Black Dress, but for fuck’s sake he’ll get all of its seams checked and the damn thing refitted. He’s hoping if he makes enough fuss, you’ll choose to toss it just to shut him up.

Fucking rules. Ran hates rules. If you kept standards on par with your New Money maybe he’d follow your rules. He’ll get you in the good stuff: the good house with good furniture, the good clothing with good lingerie beneath, right down to the good wash and lotion.

You can keep your perfume. He likes your perfume.

Yes, he’ll get you into what he wants, when he wants, where he wants, and all that implies. Ransom always gets what he wants…because you let him.

It’s remarkable what you let him fucking do, too.

He slides his hand from your ankle to your knee, knocking you out of your reverie just in time for his phone to buzz.

He holds your legs to him while sneaking a glance at the screen. Linda. Fuck no, he’s not answering that. It’s not Sunday and he’s not ditching anything. Fucking wait. Fucking choke for all he cares.

Ran instead sets his nearly empty mug down beside your two phones on the coffee table and curls up in your corner of couch. You open your arms to tuck him into your chest, and sure, it’s cutesy and gross in a way that should make Ran want to gag, but who fucking cares when he’s this comfortable. He plants a kiss right on your nipple through the knit for fun, feeling you shiver, then listens to your heart.

His phone vibrates again, dancing closer to the stoneware he just put down.

His mother’s persistence is as admirable as it is annoying. Predictably, Ran’s bored by her usual shit and ignores it again.

Instead of pushing up his sweater to wrap an arm around your waist though, he shoves his now chilly fingers between your hot thighs and sighs. His ear rings with the airy sound of your laugh through flesh.

Then your phone dings, and he just fucking knows it’s her. His groaned protest goes unheeded as you swap your mug for the device and bring it to you.

Ran snorts, and you smooth your free hand over his hair.

“Hello—“ there are harsh but restrained mumbles but he can’t make out the words “—Linda, why on Earth would I be with a man the night he yelled at me like that?”

Because you love him, Ran thinks, but he hears garbled disappointment from the other end.

“And after how your brother and his wife acted—” more rushed excuses “—I don’t have time to go around looking for your adult baby. I have work to do and a plane to catch.” There’s obvious desperation in Linda’s tone, but you don’t care. “Goodbye.”

You let your phone drop to the rug, carding fingers through his hair before finishing with little scratches. Your nonchalance is still pure honesty. You wouldn’t waste time on him, not if you didn’t want him, and you did not let him speak to you that way for more than three sentences because you knew exactly how to shut him up.

“Vicious little bitch,” you mutter.

And…in all your perfect, honest, niceness, you called his mother a bitch—not to her face but you’ll get there, Ran’s sure.

He fucking loves you. He is really so fucking in love with you that it’s fucking gross. He’s disgusted and doesn’t fucking care.

After a big sigh, your hand finds his between your legs and moves it to cup your sex. “Where were we?”

Ransom shifts up over you at the same time as you slide beneath him on the buttery leather cushions. His wildly true and blue eyes meet yours with stern sincerity.

He’s looking at everything he ever wanted, and it’s not money. There are all sorts of things he can use to survive, loads of things he can replace, an infinite amount to take, but only one you, only one complete package. Not a thing. Not replaceable. Finite. Earned. New. Fascinating. Teasing. Messy. Sexy. A total hardass badass with a great ass.

Ran lays his hand heavier on that thin layer of silk, possession laced in the caress, and the words just flow right out.

“Marry me.”

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

Oh my god, gang, I can't believe I fucking did it. Truly, this fic has been one of the craziest things I've ever attempted, and honestly, I'm so damn proud. I'm proud that I wrote it, I'm proud that it's over, and I'm proud of whatever reception it gets. I murdered my soul for this and am delighted. Thank you all so much for reading!

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[whollyfree]

Do I Wanna Know?

Summary – You and Jake are friends with benefits. But surfacing feelings causes you to wonder if it could ever be more.

Pairings – Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count – 2.5k

Warnings – SMUT I have this in my bio but 18+ MINORS DNI !!!!! unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of oral (f!receiving)

A/N: WELLLLLLL it's been a while hasn't it? This is based on a request I got a while back that’s kinda loosely based on “Do I Wanna Know” by Arctic Monkeys. Hope y'all enjoy :)

You didn't know when the feeling began; the feeling of impending doom you felt whenever Jake waltzed into your apartment, using his spare key you so generously offered him for times like this. For times of need, when you felt yourself in longing for any kind of touch to ease the ache of loneliness.

But it was never meant to go this far.

You never meant to have butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard the noise of a key on the other side of the door. You never meant to look forward to taking in his soft, brown eyes that stared up into yours so delicately as his head buried itself between your thighs, his velvet tongue licking at you mercilessly as you gripped the roots of his chestnut hair for dear life.

How pathetic it was that the man only responsible for slipping his cock into you whenever either of you felt lonely became responsible for the constant jitters and the melting of your heart; for the yearning feeling that took hold of you by your throat whenever he strode out of your front door shortly after you both came. You wanted him to stay.

That's why his words struck you so as he hovered above you, fucking into you as he securely gripped each of your hips with his hands.

"I bet you think about me all the time, don't you?"

You were thankful for your furious blush that rose on your cheeks long before he was inside of you. If it hadn't been there, you were sure your face would pale and drained of all color before his very eyes; all of your secrets revealed from the lack of red in your cheeks and the panic in your eyes.

"What?" He doesn't stop moving even as the puzzled response leaves your lips. He wasn't even looking at you, staring down at the place where your bodies connected. You knew he liked to watch it, and on occasion, he asked you to watch it too.

"You heard me," he mutters, his breath catching as you subconsciously squeeze around him. He looks at you now. “I know you think about me fucking this pretty pussy all the time, don't you?"

And you did. More than he would ever realize.

You were relieved now. Relieved that you played stupid (mostly because you were) and for the fact that it was just dirty talk to push you over the edge. He was close and you could tell, but there was never a time where he would allow himself to finish before you did. He'd hold it for as long as he had to until you were crying out his name, your cunt strangling his length as he’s buried inside of you. You weren't used to it with past lovers and assumed he would be the same, but he wasn't. And maybe that was partly the reason why you felt as you did.

He cared about your pleasure too, maybe even more so than you did. You didn't even care if you finished; just wanting to feel the warmth of his presence, the touch of his callous fingers, and the teakwood scent of his that encased you whenever he hovered over you like this. But he cared, and oh how he cared.

"You think it's pretty?" You were befuddled, his every word cast straight into your heart with an arrow and pierced it. It hurt so good.

Jake scoffs as he pushes in a bit harder this time, making your eyes roll back. "Of course it's fucking pretty. Goddamn gorgeous, just like the rest of you."

He really shouldn't have said that for the sake of your internal delusion of actually having him fully. But much to his satisfaction, those words sent you into the very bliss and euphoria of your own orgasm. It had crept on you, dragging you down into its depths before you even had time to recognize what was happening. You claw at his back, pulling him closer as your nails dig into his skin.

He comes seconds after. He can't help himself; the feeling of you squeezing him so tight and making those sounds just for him is enough to grip your hips tighter. He shudders, a loud moan of your name falling from his plush lips as his hips falter. Pressing into you one last time, he spills inside of you, arms shaking slightly as he tries to regain his composure.

The sight of him above you, his swollen lips and rosy cheeks, his forehead wettled with sweat as his hair sticks to the damp spot, his eyes half-lidded and oh so fucked out makes your heart melt and your cunt flutter again. He hisses when he feels it and you can't help but smile.

"Something funny?" Jake asks you, and by the lazy smile on his face as he pulls out of you, you can tell he's not mad at your amusement.

You keep smiling. "No. Nothing at all."

The fact that he then got up to grab a warm washcloth to clean you up did little to stop the pull on your heartstrings. He was always so caring, so gentle.

When he feels satisfied that his work is done, he takes a moment, his back to you now as he sits on the edge of your bed. He looks almost as if he's contemplating something. You wait for him to speak and you really think he might as he turns around to look at you for a moment, but he doesn't. He turns back around and locates his clothes before slipping his boxers and linen pants through his legs.

You hate how beautiful he looks in that moment; it's unfair. He isn't playing fair as he stands there so gloriously, his tanned chest catching glimpses of sunlight as the sun shines through your blinds. He's simply buttoning the final two buttons of damned his shirt as your heart thrums in your chest at the growing feelings you have for him, and he isn't playing fair.

Just as Jake slips his boots on and goes to walk out of your bedroom door as he always does, you sit up.

"Jake," you blurt before your brain has time to catch up with itself. He turns around quickly, quicker than you had expected him to.

"Yes?"

And in that moment, you realize he's expecting an answer from you. You don't have one. Well, you do, but it's long and extensive and tied in a messy bow to the confines of your heart where you intend on keeping it safe...so you choose to forgo your gut feeling to be honest.

"Nothing. It's- never mind." You look away, almost ashamed that you can't even form the words.

Jake looks as if he's going to say something, his lips parting slightly and you swear you see his body lean in the direction of your bed where you're still bare and tangled under your own sheets. But he doesn't say anything to prompt you to say what you really want to.

"Ok," he nods. "Til next time?" He almost looks hopeful, a small raise of his eyebrow as he looks at you expectantly.

"Yeah," you give your best soft smile as you nod. He nods again before leaving your apartment, where the quiet and loneliness envelops you once more.

Why can't you bring yourself to say it?

-

It was a few days after this when you saw him again. Jake had invited you, his brothers and Danny, of course, as well as a few of his other friends to his new place for dinner as somewhat of a housewarming party.

It wasn't abnormal; the two of you were friends after all. You obliged his request, politely bringing a bottle of his favorite wine as a gift to christen his new place. However, Jake would be lying if he said he didn't have other ideas on how to christen his new home, all of which involved you. But you didn't know that. Not yet, anyway.

So there you sat at the table next to Danny, politely engaging in small talk with some of Jake's friends that you'd never met. Jake sat to the left of you, leaning back in his rightful throne at the head of his large new dining room table. He was the host, after all.

Dinner had been...odd. For you, at least. Josh, as always, was having a grand ole time, entertaining his twin's guests with a "can you fucking believe this" sort of story over and over. Jake was used to this and he truly didn't mind, even if it was his house and his party. He enjoyed when Josh stole the show, becoming a bit unnerved if too many eyes were on him at one time.

And in the excited spirit, Danny leans over to you, whispering. "Twenty bucks says Josh won't let Jake have another word in the whole night."

You smirk. "I say fifty."

You giggle and Danny moves away, feeling rather proud of his joke and grinning at your banter with him. You sip on your glass of wine, the wine you gifted Jake, placed to the top left corner of your plate when you feel his eyes on you. You glance at him as you raise the glass to your lips. He looks almost calm, but his clenched jaw gives him away.

He mimics you, almost mockingly so, as he brings his own glass to his lips. He takes a sip before turning his attention back to Josh and his extravagant story, jaw still clenched.

Once dinner ends, you offer to take the plates from everyone at the table. Jake fights you on it, of course, going on about how you're a guest in his home. Gathering the finished plates weren't your responsibility.

"Well, I'll help you, then," He relents and you take a moment before you nod in agreeance, even if he wasn't asking.

In the kitchen, you rinse plates while Jake takes them from you to put them in the dishwasher. It's quiet for a while before he finally says something.

"You're awfully stubborn," he speaks lowly, almost to where you can't hear him.

You chuckle, a smile gracing your lips. "You sound mad about it."

He smiles too, looking down as he places another rinsed plate into the dishwasher amongst the others. "Not mad. Just an observation."

You want to ask him: anything else you've observed about me? or do you observe me often? But you don't. It sounds borderline sad even in your head. So instead, you stay quiet, keeping that tightly bound secret attached to your heart just as you promised yourself.

As if he reads your mind, he breaks the silence again. "Was Danny bothering you tonight?"

Your brows furrow, but suddenly that jaw clench of his from earlier all makes perfect sense. You play along.

"No. Why?"

He smirks again, almost like he's biting his tongue at your response. You can't help but smile again, turning your back to the sink as you lean against the counter.

"So you liked it, then? You liked the attention he was giving you?" Jake finally looks at you and you swear your heart stops. His piercing gaze sees right through you, and against your better judgment, you challenge it.

"And if I did?"

He breathes out a laugh, almost shocked at your pushback. "You can't lie to me, Y/N."

You're taken aback, but you're unsure why. He can see right through you. "Who says I'm lying?"

He steps closer, towering above you even if not by much. His aura is anything but small even at his average stature. "I can tell. I see it in your eyes."

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest as he steps even closer again, even if this isn't your first rodeo with him. Even if he had taken you over his shoulder and carried you to whatever surface he could fuck you on until you couldn't see straight all too many times before, that one look he gives you never fails to steal the breath from your lungs and light a fire between your thighs.

"And I'll bet you wanted me to grab you from that chair and take you right there over that dinner table, didn't you?"

Jesus Christ. The way he speaks with such depravity renders you speechless as it does nearly every time.

"Jake..." you try your best not to look at him. If you do, the rising blush on your cheeks will give you away in an instant. You liked it.

You couldn’t help but like it when he talked to you like this. Speaking so filthy when the two of you are alone yet so outwardly polite and respectful when others were around; only allowing for hushed whispers of iniquity that beckoned you back into the darkness with him. It was exactly where you wanted to be.

"No?" His voice is almost teasing now. "Didn't want Danny to see me absolutely wreck you? All spread pretty and bent over? Didn't want that poor boy to realize he doesn't stand a chance with you? He couldn't handle you even if he tried."

"You know I don't want him, Jake," you finally look at him and your tone is soft. So soft it makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch in his pants.

"I know," he affirms. "You only want me, don't you, baby?"

You can't hide from him so close to you, not when there's a conversation. It's odd that having him buried deep inside of you, muttering sweet nothings as he coaxes you to an orgasm is a better hiding place than when he's standing in front of you, eyes staring holes through yours as he waits patiently for an answer.

"Yes," you finally answer. "In a way that makes me fucking crazy. You make me goddamn crazy and I can't get you out of my head."

It falls out of you before you have time to even stop it and now you're angry with yourself. The messily-tied bow that held your secret that you safeguarded so closely to your heart was now untied, dissipating into thin air. You can only hope it lands safely.

The silence for a moment is physically painful until he smiles. "So I was right then?"

You shake your head, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Jake smiles even more. "You do think about me all the time...just as I said the other day.”

You're truly at a loss for words now. He hasn't given you a definitive answer to your proclamation just yet. You don't think he will. You think he'll just ignore it and turn you back around to face the kitchen counter and take you from behind to christen his new house just as he'd like to. And even if his guests are just in the next room, you'd let him. But then he does answer.

"It's okay, baby. So do I," he reaches his hand to gently hold your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. "And not just about the way your tight little cunt feels around me, all snug and soft and warm. Or the way you taste…the way you moan my name so pretty it makes my heart hurt. I think about you; I think about your sweet smile, your rather adorable little laugh... the way you carry yourself... and even your goddamn stubbornness," he chuckles. "And I think about the way you look at me."

You feel like your heart is beating out of your chest and the air has been knocked from your lungs. "How do I look at you, Jake?"

He scans over your face for a moment to take it all in, as if you'll disappear before his very eyes at any given moment. He adores you...and you can't believe you could've possibly missed it in those fleeting moments of intense pleasure that he gives you. "Just like that. With that look...that look that's gonna make me fall in love with you all over again."

And later that night, when all of his guests leave and he takes you up to his bedroom, half unpacked boxes still cluttered around various spots of the hardwood floor from his move, he shows you how much he's truly fallen.

He took his time with you, kissing nearly every inch of your body that he could place his lips on. And he fucked you just as he’d been doing for the past month or so, but it felt different this time; maybe because it was different this time.

"Stay," he whispers softly in the haze of your climaxes, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek just as he did in the kitchen hours before. And so you stayed, wrapped up in the sheets next to him as he pulls you closer, lulling you to sleep.

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