#like. it’s not up to you to finish the job but neither are you free to withdraw from it. you get what I mean?

[p0ison-moon]

(this is petty and unreasonable of me but also it’s real feelings so whatever) gosh I just love the cycle of antisemitic thing happens ➡️ all my goy friends put one (1) thing on their Instagram story about and don’t mention it ever again or ask me if I’m okay ➡️ the post they shared is from some Zionist org that thinks Palestinians don’t have the right to organize and advocate for themselves and call out Israel etc etc or whatever ➡️ I get angry but don’t say anything because I’m always the angry anti-Zionist and also the angry Jew and I don’t want them to feel like they’re never going to be good enough for me ➡️ repeat

[ellemj]

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 8

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-7 first for the full effect.**

Summary: You and Bucky go on your first mission since the one where you were exposed to the sex pollen. Only this time, you have a professional babysitter observing you both and a game that neither of you is willing to stop playing.

Warnings: mentions of previous smut and prelude to upcoming smut, profanity, teasing, brief mention of drug use as an analogy, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 6.3k

Author's Note: Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for giving this a read earlier today and convincing me not to scrap it, and for going back through my blog and listing out the warnings that I might've been missing. A true angel.

It’s been 7 days since your chemically-induced lust-filled night with Bucky in the safehouse. 7 days since he had his hands on you, since he was inside you, since he last kissed you. It’s been 4 days since your first partner talk session with Dr. Raynor. 4 days spent wondering what might happen if she comes to a sure conclusion that the two of you really did have sex that night. Will she suggest to Fury that your partnership be terminated? Will she spill the secret to the rest of the team? You don’t even know what you want the outcome to be, but thinking about it puts you on edge.

            Meanwhile, you and Bucky have been playing a very dangerous game. After that tense moment in the gym showers on Monday evening, you had a fairly normal team dinner upstairs. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Until the dinner turned into everyone piling into the main living area to watch some movie that Sam insisted was an absolutely necessary nightcap. Somehow, you ended up seated next to Bucky on one end of the sectional. You did a great job keeping your focus on the movie for the first thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Bucky very intentionally manspread on the couch that you felt like you were going to be needing an emergency exit. He made sure that the side of his thigh was pressed against the side of yours for the next ten minutes, and that alone made your body temperature increase to an uncomfortable degree. You tried nudging him with your knee, to get him to scoot away from you, but it only encouraged him to be bolder. He did the typical relaxed-male thing and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind you. The movement enveloped you in his scent and it was too much to handle. You were quick to excuse yourself and not come back to finish the movie. No one questioned it though. You’d had a lot of early nights since you came back from the HYDRA facility mission. Everyone else chalked it up to you recovering from the chemical exposure or maybe jetlag, but Bucky knew what you were doing. Avoiding him. He was having so much fun playing your little game, waiting for you to cave and give into your desires. You were kind of cheating by keeping yourself away from him. That’s not how the game is supposed to be played.

            You can’t avoid him today. Today, you’ve both been called in to be briefed on your first partner mission since the HYRDA facility one. Sam didn’t offer many details about it when he first asked you both to be in the conference room at noon today, so neither of you really know what you’re walking into. If it’s anything like your usual missions, it’ll be some breaking and entering or a smash-and-grab type situation. It’s what you and Bucky are best at. Getting in quietly, getting what you need, and getting out. And of course, you’re undeniably good at working together to take down any obstacles along the way.

            You step out of the elevator and make your way down the hall to the conference room, arriving twenty minutes before noon so you won’t immediately be thrown into the bustle of a briefing. You always show up early enough to read any mission files that have already been set out on the table for the upcoming op. You don’t like to go into these meetings completely blind. As you scan your palm to gain access to the room, you hear the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as it’s pulled away from the table. Seems like you aren’t the only one who decided to show up early today. You don’t know who you were expecting to find behind the closed door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Dr. Raynor.

            “Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.” Her voice is calm and collected, like she isn’t surprised at all that you’re standing right in front of her. You stare at her with a hint of confusion spreading across your face. Are you in the wrong conference room? No, there’s only one conference room on this floor of the compound. She must be in the wrong room. Dr. Raynor can see the wheels in your head turning as you try to figure out why she’s here. She decides to save you the trouble. “I’m observing your missions, remember?”

Ah, so this is the beginning of the babysitting.

---       

            Bucky wouldn’t say that he’s ever particularly nervous before going out in the field. If anything, he’s more calm than usual. He operates best when he’s under pressure, when he has tasks to complete. He can’t stand doing nothing for extended periods of time. He gets far too consumed with his thoughts when he lets his mind go idle. Yet, today he finds himself on edge. He doesn’t have to think too hard to figure out why, not with Dr. Raynor standing amongst the various SHIELD agents and analysts, watching as you both equip your in-ear monitors and get ready to make the drive to the gala that you’ll be attending undercover tonight. She puts him on edge, and not in a good way like you do. She makes him second-guess his decisions, she makes him more self-conscious. That can be a good thing at times, like when he’s being self-destructive. But in the field? He doesn’t need to be second-guessing himself when both of your lives are on the line.

            As Sam drones on, reminding you both of the main tasks to be completed during the mission tonight, your mind is elsewhere. Bucky seems so distant. He’s standing right beside you but he isn’t quite himself. He’s a little too quiet, a little too unfocused. You can’t tell what’s eating at him but you fear it’s the stupid teasing game you’ve both been playing all week. Maybe he let it get to his head.

            “Why do I feel like neither one of you are listening to me?” Sam suddenly asks, snapping his fingers around in the air to get your attention. You and Bucky both focus in on him.

            “It’s a simple op, Sam. Get in, put on a show, slip into the elevator, plug the device into the computer in the home office upstairs, then slip back out.” Bucky reiterates the plan, proving he didn’t really need to be paying all that much attention. Sam rolls his eyes, holding out a device that looks like a little USB drive. Bucky takes it and drops it into one of the pockets of his suit jacket. He looks good tonight. Who are you kidding? He always looks good. But tonight, he’s dressed in a black suit, complete with a black button-up shirt underneath and a black tie. Of course, he’s wearing his black gloves as well. As Sam tells him how important it is that he not lose that tiny little device, you find your eyes lingering on Bucky’s thighs. His pants hug them just right, exemplifying the toned muscles there and reminding you of how good he looks without any clothing obstructing your view of him. Fuck. You keep forgetting that Dr. Raynor is just a few feet away, analyzing your every move.

            It only takes a few more minutes of discussion before you and Bucky are climbing into a sleek black car and heading out of the garage of the compound. As soon as you’re out and onto the interstate, you let out a deep sigh, sinking back into your seat. You’re wearing the tiniest black dress that you own, it’s one of your favorites really. You don’t get many occasions to show it off, so you chose to put it on tonight. You don’t notice it at first, but when you lean back in the seat, your dress rides higher up your thigh and Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much that his flesh knuckles turn white on one hand and his vibranium hand nearly leaves a dent. He needs to cool down.

            Neither of you have your in-ear monitors on yet. You won’t turn them on until you’re nearing the gala, since it’s a forty-minute drive there. There’s no point in listening to Sam chat up whoever happens to be sitting near him, he’ll do that just fine without the two of you having to suffer through it. You love Sam like family, but the man likes to talk more than a teenage schoolgirl.

            “Where are you tonight?” You ask, referring to the way Bucky seemed so out of focus and distant back in the garage.

            “I’m here.” He says quietly, keeping his eyes on the road. You sigh and cross your legs. This time, you don’t miss the way Bucky’s gaze darts over to you, running up your legs as your dress slides impossibly higher up your thigh. Any higher and he might be able to tell what color panties you’re wearing tonight. He adjusts himself in his seat, shifting his hips a little and pressing his head back against the headrest. He looks uncomfortable, and when you let your eyes scan down his body, you quickly find out why. He’s hard. Not even slightly hard. Fully erect and clearly testing the strength of his pant seams. In a split second, you make a decision to continue the game. You were going to give it a rest tonight. With Dr. Raynor watching you both so closely and already thinking that you’ve had sex, you didn’t think it’d be smart to push your luck. But you got all dressed up. Why let it go to waste?

            “Bucky…” You say, in a sultry tone. Bucky’s knuckles go white again at the sound of you saying his name. You notice it this time. He fucking hates how easy it is for you to get a rise out of him. It’s not even his own fault. You avoided him so much the last couple of days. Seeing you now, dressed like this? It’s like he’s an addict and he’s been without his drug of choice for too long. He’s in the beginning stages of withdrawal and his next fix is staring right at him, calling his fucking name. “What are the boundaries tonight?” You ask. Though the question itself sounds professional, the way you delivered it is anything but. You asked it in a way that implies you want to know so you can test whatever boundaries he lays out. You have all of the power in this moment and he can’t stand it. Do you think he doesn’t know what game you’re playing?

            “We need boundaries?” He asks, flipping the script on you. You lose your wits for a moment, unsure of what the hell to say back to him. He was supposed to lay out a few boundaries like no kissing with tongue or hands below the belt, so then you could cross the lines anyway just to fuck with him. He wasn’t supposed to make it a free-for-all. You’re silent for a few seconds too long and he can’t stand it. “I asked you a question.”

Holy fuck. Where does he get off being so demanding with you? You hate it and love it all at the same time. It sends a raging heat straight to your core and you feel your panties dampening with arousal. Your mind follows your body’s cues and answers him the way he expects to be answered: promptly.

            “Yes.” You muster the words up, but they come out soft. He zapped your confident demeanor away with one little phrase. He tsks now, relaxing in his seat. He’s gained control back and he’s relishing in it. He steers with only his left hand now, moving to rest his flesh hand over the gear shift between the two of you.

            “What boundaries do you need tonight?” He questions. Your mind immediately goes back to the two rules you had in the safehouse that night, though you only ever said one of them out loud. No kissing, and no using his name. You broke both of those rules before the sun ever came up. Obviously your first rule won’t fly in this situation, given the nature of the mission. Your second rule could be useful, considering Bucky’s cover name is simply going to be his real first name: James.

            “I don’t know.” You admit, after careful consideration.

            “You’re not going to tell me not to kiss you this time?”

            “I don’t think we could get away with not kissing when we’re supposed to be convincing everyone there that we want to fuck.” You point out. Bucky laughs lightly, moving the car into the left lane to pass a very slowly traveling Kia.

            “We wanted to fuck last week but we didn’t kiss until it had already happened a few times.”

            He really just said that.

            “We wanted to or we needed to?” You ask, just to clarify. He chuckles under his breath as he moves the car back into the right lane.

            “Wanted to, needed to, we can go with whichever makes you feel better.”

            “You’re such an ass.” You scoff, crossing your arms. This small act pushes your breasts up a bit and Bucky can tell out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t dare to peel his eyes away from the road and steal a look, because if he does, he’ll crash this damn car when he can’t stop looking at you.

            “No kissing tonight.” He says. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he still doesn’t give you so much as a sideways glance.

            “Bucky, there’s no way we can pull off an assignment like this without kissing.” It’s not that you want to kiss him, but how else will you make it obvious that you want to fuck? You can’t risk botching the mission as part of your stupid little side game.

            “You can kiss anywhere except my lips.” He offers, acting like that’s some sort of compromise. As much as you want to argue with him, there is no fucking way you’re going to sit here in this car and plead for him to let you kiss his lips tonight. There isn’t a chance in hell.

            The rest of the car ride went by fairly quickly. Bucky pulled the car into the dramatic gated entrance of a mansion and stopped at the valet. You knew he’d already gotten into character when he turned to you before getting out of the driver’s seat and told you to stay put. He then waved the valet away from your side of the car, before calmly walking over and opening the door for you himself. It was almost attractive. But you know that wasn’t something he normally would’ve done. He’s just playing the part.

            Bucky holds out a gloved hand for you, which you accept, and then he helps you out of the car. Once you’re standing in front of him on your favorite black ankle-strap heels, he pushes the car door shut behind you and rests his left hand on your lower back. You tug the hem of your dress a little further down your thighs, since it rode up so much in the car, and surprisingly, Bucky appreciates that. Though he loved getting to see so much of your skin, he didn’t want everyone surveilling the mission to see it too. He also didn’t know if he could continue to think straight with how short your dress was becoming.

            As he guides you up the front steps of the mansion and into the double doors, his hand slips a little lower so it’s resting just millimeters above your ass. You feel your cheeks warming and butterflies waking up within you, but you tamp them down fast. This isn’t real. Fake it, get the intel you’re here for, and then get home and get the hell away from Bucky. That’s what you keep telling yourself.

            The only problem you were having was that Bucky was way too fucking good at faking it. He walked you right into the gala and wasted no time grabbing you a glass of champagne from a passing server. He found the two of you a nice corner to cozy up in, but made sure it was one that everyone could clearly see. He made sure that you weren’t hidden from plain sight. Then, as you took the first sip of champagne, he started in on step one.

            “You’re staring.” You whisper, his blue eyes following your every move. He’s standing close in front of you, the glass of champagne in his hand looking almost miniature, and his breath fanning across your lips.

            “I’m staring.” He agrees. Why is your heart racing? Jesus. This mission was a bad call. You turn away from him, taking the moment to scan the room. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Everyone is dressed beautifully, drinking champagne and chatting away. Most of these guests probably have no idea that the owner of this house is the type of criminal that he is.

            Dr. Raynor is watching the live surveillance footage of the mission play out before her from her seat in the conference room of the tower. She’s jotting down notes as she observes you and Bucky, thoroughly surprised by what she’s seeing. Bucky is excelling at feigning the attraction and making it seem like he wants you. You, however, look anxious. You’ve barely even spoken since entering the gala three minutes ago and she’s starting to wonder if you’re going to wash the entire op down the drain.

            Bucky keeps his eyes focused on you as you now stand in front of him. He can tell how tense you are. What he can’t tell is if it’s because you don’t want to have to do this with him or if it’s because you do, and that makes you nervous as hell. Of course, the latter is right.

            “Come on, you two. Let’s get things moving.” Sam speaks through your in-ear monitors. Bucky takes a step forward now, stepping so close to you that his chest brushes against your back and your cascading, softly curled hair tickles his chin. You smell like strawberries. It’s the same intoxicating scent that he had to wash off of his skin after your night together.

            “It’s just me.” He breathes the words out next to your ear, trying to ease your nerves. You let yourself relax against him a little, taking another sip of champagne and closing your eyes for a moment. It’s just him. The guy that’s saved your ass in the field so many times that you’ve lost count. The guy that you’d trust above anyone else, even as you give him shit just for the hell of it. The guy that gave you the best sex of your life, not just once, but five fucking times in a row. It's just him.

            “Okay…” You whisper, deciding that you can be as calm and level-headed as he’s being right now. This is going to be easy. You’re a professional, after all.

            It’s not until you find yourself with your back against a wall and Bucky’s hands on your waist that you think you might be in over your head. It started out slow, light touches and seemingly innocent whispers in each other’s ears while standing at the very busy bar. After quite a few people started to give the two of you looks, Bucky led you over to an area where a handful of couples were gathered, chatting amongst themselves. That’s where he chose to make a display of grabbing your ass with his vibranium hand, making you gasp and lean into his chest. Trying to play off the gasp as being intentional, you immediately attached your lips to his neck. Kissing and sucking on the soft skin there. Even his skin tastes fucking good. You can’t help yourself when you start having flashbacks to the night you spent together. Once you start thinking about how good it felt with him that night, you begin chasing that feeling. You want him all over you, you want him inside you again. Though you know you can’t have that, you know you can get pretty damn close to it before this mission ends. So, you up your game. This time, you don’t have to hide any evidence of what you’re doing, because you were assigned to do this. You use that as your excuse for sucking a little mark on the side of Bucky’s neck, leaving him with something to find in the mirror later. As your lips leave his neck, one of his hands travels quickly up your back and he tangles his fingers in your hair at the back of your head. He tilts your head back until you’re looking up into his eyes. You can feel the stares of the couples around you, but you remind yourself that those stares are exactly why you’re doing what you’re both doing right now.

            Bucky’s eyes dart from your eyes down to your lips. Your fucking lips. God, he wants to kiss you. He remembers how sweet your mouth tasted the first time you kissed him. Like he could ever forget that. He bites his bottom lip in restraint before leaning down and kissing your neck instead, licking and sucking along the curve of your jaw, making his way up to your ear.

            “I think we’ve put on enough of a show, don’t you?” He asks softly, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed at the sound of his voice, hating that that he’s right. It’s time to make your way upstairs, which means that the touching and riling each other up is nearly over with. You nod your head, but Bucky doesn’t like that. He likes when you speak up and answer him. He likes hearing how breathy your voice sounds when you’re worked up like this. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Shit. You feel a wave of heat spreading from where his lips are against your ear all the way down to your cunt. You take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open and looking over his shoulder. You see plenty of people in the crowded room taking their turns staring at the two of you.

“I think so.” You say quietly, placing a shaky hand on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back gently. You turn on your heel, reaching back and taking his hand in yours, before leading the way to the back of the large, open living area.

“Nice work. You’re going to find the opening to a big hallway at the back of the room. It’ll be dark, you’ll go all the way to the end and take the elevator to the fifth floor. Jesus, this place is huge. Why anyone needs to a home with five floors to themself is beyond you. You reach the hallway quickly, and Bucky holds onto your hand firmly, letting you guide him. The hallway itself has to be at least fifty-feet long, but eventually you reach the elevator. Bucky steps forward, letting his front press against your back as he presses the button to call the elevator with his free hand, his other hand still clasped in yours. Instead of stepping away from you after pressing the button, he stays flush against you. You feel his free hand land on your hip and pull you against him with such a slight movement that it’s almost unnoticeable.

You immediately feel it. His hard cock pressing into your ass.

“There’s one camera in the elevator, so keep up the show.” Sam instructs, just as the elevator is arriving and the doors are sliding open in front of you. The lights inside are dim and the walls are a shiny metal, but not fully reflective. Before you have a chance to step in, Bucky is pushing you forward with the hold he has on your hip. He wastes no time in turning you around. It’s exciting, the way he can so easily move you and handle you. It’s as if it takes little effort or thought for him to do exactly what he wants with you. He walks you backward until your ass hits the wall, and then he looks down into your eyes, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t move.” He says lowly, before stepping away and hitting the button to carry you both up to the fifth floor. As the doors close, he positions himself back against you, tugging on your hair and kissing your neck once more. You sigh as you secretly enjoy his touch, praying that he doesn’t realize just how real your heavy breathing and soft whimpers are. But Bucky knows they’re real. He’s heard you just like this before…whimpering, panting underneath him as he fucked his cock into you. It’s what’s driving him to leave marks all along your collarbone right now. It’s what has his cock so fucking hard that he worries his suit pants won’t survive the mission.

Temporarily forgetting that this is supposed to be an act, Bucky presses his hips into you, nibbling on your earlobe as you take in the feeling of his hard cock resting against your stomach.

“James…” You breathe his name out and he freezes. You feel his cock twitch in his pants and a devious smile plays on your lips. You’re so damn lucky that they let him use his real first name for this mission. You don’t know it yet, but you can have anything you want when you say his name like that. Any. Damn. Thing. He’s about to say fuck it and shove his tongue into your mouth when the elevator dings and the doors open to the fifth floor, revealing a dark home office. You push his chest lightly and he gets moving, turning around and leading the way out of the elevator.

“Security does a sweep of every floor once every ten minutes. If our timing is right, you should have about eight minutes to finish this. Just plug the device into the laptop and leave it for three minutes. It has to be plugged in for at least three minutes to complete the download. Then you’re all clear and you guys can get out of there.” Torres reminds you both through your in-ears. Bucky makes a beeline for the desk at the far back wall of the room, reaching in his pocket for the device and quickly finding the USB port of the laptop. He plugs it in and it lights up with a pale green glow as the intel begins downloading. You both stand there in silence, watching the device as if that will make it download any faster. After about thirty seconds, Sam speaks up again, a slight panic rising in his tone.

“You’ve got company in thirty seconds, security decided to sweep early.”

“Shit.” You mumble, your mind suddenly moving at a hundred miles an hour. Bucky turns to you and meets your gaze, and you immediately know that you’re on the same wavelength. You reach beneath the hem of your dress, tugging your black panties down and holding onto the edge of the desk as you quickly step out of them. You drape them over the device to cover up the green glow of the light, and then turn to face Bucky.

“Sit on the edge of the desk.” He tells you in a hushed tone, as his eyes dart to the fabric of your panties beside the laptop. You find yourself listening without second-guessing his demand. He steps in between your legs and you can hear the whirring of the elevator as it’s called down to one of the lower floors, likely to pick up the security guards that will be sweeping the office any minute now. You’re running out of time. Bucky begins loosening his tie around his neck, and then unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt in record time, as you reach your hands out and begin unbuckling his belt. Fuck, he’s enjoying this so much more than he should. When you unzip his pants, you nearly moan at the way you see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. You only get a peek though, because you don’t push his pants down even a little bit. Bucky looks you over quickly as he deftly slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. His eyes meet yours and you both know exactly what you need to do. You lay back on the desk and he pulls your thighs around his hips, leaving your dress in place so you’re still fully covered. Suddenly, you feel his clothed, hard cock pushing against your bare clit and you unintentionally arch your back off the cold desk, biting your lip and letting your eyes fall closed. Anyone seeing this on the SHIELD surveillance footage right now would think that you’re just really good at your job, really good at faking things undercover. Only Bucky knows that he just drew real pleasure from you.

“Get loud for me, we have to sell it.” He encourages you, bucking his hips into yours and leaving one hand on your right thigh while his other hand wraps gently around your throat.

            “Fuck, James.” You moan loudly, hoping the security guards can already hear you from the elevator shaft. “Right there, baby, oh my god.” This earns a loud groan from Bucky and his grip on your thigh tightens so much that you think you might be left with a bruise in the shape of his hand. The friction of him rutting against you like this is so fucking good that you let out another very real moan right as the elevator dings and the doors slide open behind Bucky. You both pretend not to notice them, trying to give the device more time to do its job. Bucky continues to mimic the actions of a guy slamming his cock into his girl, moans falling from your lips and perfectly timed grunts mixed in with dirty praises falling from his.

            “Hey!” A deep voice yells out, and you both gasp for show. You push yourself up on your elbows and look over Bucky’s shoulder. He keeps his body firmly planted where it is to shield you from the men who stand by the elevator. He’d be damned if he’d let them see you this way. “You two can’t be up here.” The man’s voice is serious and authoritative, but his security guard buddy has an amused smile on his face.

            “Oh my god, James, you said we wouldn’t get caught.” Your voice is full of fake embarrassment as you cover your face with one hand. He laughs before looking over his shoulder at the guards.

            “Just thirty more seconds.” Sam calls out.

            “I’d apologize but I’m really not sorry about this.” Bucky says to the two guards, making the amused one laugh and the authoritative one shoot his partner a warning glance. “Can we just have a few seconds to get ourselves together?” Bucky asks kindly, tilting his head in your direction as if to remind them that you’re a lady. The security guards are silent for a second, assessing the situation and scanning the rest of the office for anything in disarray besides the two of you.

            “You have thirty seconds to situate yourselves and get in the elevator.” The first guard barks, turning around to face away from you and gesturing for his buddy to do the same. Bucky steps back from you and you lower yourself to the floor, pulling your dress down and sliding the straps back onto your shoulders. Bucky quickly fixes his pants and belt before moving on to his tie and shirt buttons. You smooth down your hair a bit, leaving it at least a little messy for evidence.

            “Got it, you’re good to go.” Sam gives the all clear to remove the device.

            Bucky smirks at you and as the guards turn back around to face the both of you, he leans in close, reaching past you to grab your panties off of the desk. He skillfully grips the device within them, pulling it out of the laptop and shoving both the panties and device into his suit jacket pocket, making sure the guards witness his move.

            “Alright you two, time to head out.” One of the guards calls out, waving you toward the elevator. Bucky takes your hand in his and leads the way, the cocky smile that you’ve become so familiar with never leaving his lips.

            Though the guards would’ve allowed you to stay at the gala, it only made sense for you to leave, acting like you were heading out early to finish what you started in the home office upstairs. Bucky stands behind you, peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck while you wait for the valet to bring your car around. As the car comes into view, he cheekily slides his hand from your hip down to the slit in your dress, tracing the triangular outline with his index finger. You have to tell yourself a million times that this is just part of the job.

---

            Of course, the mission couldn’t possibly go fully according to plan. Do they ever? When Bucky began to drive you both back to the compound, you soon realized that you were being tailed. Sam was quick to direct you to a hotel, arranging to have a team of SHIELD operatives nearby for protection in case of any kind of ambush. You were sure that the guards didn’t see the device, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t want to check you out and make sure you were really just some lusty young couple.

            That’s how you ended up where you are now: laying on your stomach, still in your dress and heels, on a very comfortable luxury bed while Bucky showers. You have to fight the dirty thoughts flooding your mind, which is really fucking hard to do when the man that you want to do dirty things with is naked just a few feet away in the bathroom. Forcing your mind to stay empty leads to you drifting off to sleep as you wait for him to finish showering so you can have your turn.

            You’re startled out of your extremely light slumber by the feel of Bucky’s hands on one of your ankles. You realize that he’s undoing the straps of your heels as you lay on the bed.

            “Do you have the device still?” You mumble the question, not moving from your position or trying to stop his movements.

            “Mhm, I have your panties too.” He answers, sounding so pleased with himself. You think about kicking him, you could easily do it in the position that you’re currently in, but you’re secretly really glad that he’s taking your heels off for you so you let his teasing slide.

            “Yeah, that was a nice move back there, grabbing them and the device the way you did.” He hmms in response, taking off your second heel and setting them both on the floor at the foot of the bed. You feel his hand softly pat the side of one of your thighs before he steps away from the bed and sits in the chair by the window. You roll onto your back and push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning back on your hands. You don’t know what you expected him to be wearing, but it sure as hell wasn’t only his boxers.

            “Like what you see?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and flashing you a suggestive smile. He’s relaxed in the chair, a bit slouched with his arms on the arm rests and his legs spread apart. You do like what you see, but he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud. You roll your eyes and push yourself off of the bed, dragging yourself into the bathroom where you find his suit jacket laid across the counter. You reach into the right pocket and pull out your panties.

            “They were wet.” He calls out, his voice carrying above the noise of the running water as you turn on the shower. You step back out of the bathroom and make eye contact with him, narrowing your eyes.

            “What?”

            “Your panties, they were wet.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heating up and for a moment, you’re embarrassed. Meanwhile, he’s basically beaming with pride. Fuck him. Why are you even embarrassed? He was rock hard, that’s no different than you being wet. You let out a deep sigh and start sliding the straps of your dress down your arms. His eyes follow the movement of your hands and his smug smile falters when he realizes you’re not going back into the bathroom to undress. Honestly, you’re getting sick of this game.

            “And your dick was hard.” You retort, staring at him. He shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant, but his gaze is still trained on your now bare shoulders.

            “Occupational hazard.” He says calmly. He’s such a fucking ass.

            “So, now that the job is over, you’re not hard anymore, right?” You question, letting your eyes travel down his tanned, muscular torso and settle on his lap, where he's most definitely still hard. He doesn’t respond but continues staring at you. For once, you’ve shut him up. His silence gives you a newfound boldness, and you start sauntering over to him. You see him stiffen in the chair and a small giggle leaves your lips. God, you’re so fucking pretty and you sound so innocent when you laugh like that. It almost makes him forget about the ways you let him destroy your body a few nights ago. Almost.

Next Part

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[hai7ani]

familiar / haitani rindou

Haitani Rindou turns 32, gets married, and he silently wonders why people are so nice to him now.

the old retired ladies promoting milk powders and selling fresh fruits in the grocery store rushes up to him at any chance they get. one time when browsing for milk formulas one of them had tapped him on the shoulder, pointed at a brand she was not promoting for but thought was amazing when her own grandchild had tried it, and then placed a bunch of other stuff in his cart that she thinks his wife would need. an example would be containers of freshly cut mixed fruits that her colleague had just prepared. you remember him telling you that her tone was a lot more different than the average grocery store promoter trying to sell you a product ー it was almost as if she was talking to her own son.

when shopping for flowers just like he does every Sunday suddenly the part-timer who is usually silent, does her job and only responds to customers' needs had stepped up to him and pointed out a few selections that she believes are lovely for expecting parents. she was even smiling when doing so. and you remember he came home to you that day with two bouquets of fresh flowers ー chrysanthemum and baby's breath ー one in each hand.

today when taking you out for dinner in the local family-owned restaurant the daughter had served you a warm bowl of beef bone soup. neither of you had ordered it for yourselves, and you were about to tell her that, but her mother speaks before you can. "drink it, love. the soup is good for you." she yells a little from where she sits at the cashier with a grin. when Rindou stands to pay after finishing up her husband then refuses to take your bill for the night. "it's okay, son. dinner's on the house this time." he pats his shoulder and pushes you both out the door. "take care, you two. the next time you come i'll cook tofu for you, alright?" it was directed to you and you'd laughed, a little embarrassed but feeling warm and fuzzy nonetheless.

and now you are listening to your own husband ramble on and on about his new mysteries while he massages your feet on the couch.

"i seriously don't get it. i've been going to these places for years now and they were never this nice to us. i mean, they are nice, but never this nice, you know? it's the first time we've ever gotten a free meal from Kobayashi's."

we. us.

you brush his hair back, admiring the light wrinkles that have started to form on his skin. "that's exactly it, don't you think?" you bring it up and he hums in confusion.

"perhaps the reason why they've been so nice lately is exactly because you've been going to these places for years now. they know you."

"huh?"

"if you think about it, they've watched you go from an ordinary man to a husband, then a father. watched you bring a girl they've never seen before to these places more often and suddenly we go together all the time, you have a ring on your finger and i am pregnant. perhaps it is why. a sense of familiarity, maybe?"

Rindou looks at you as if you are love and warmth and everything pink and red and blue and purple and-

you are right, actually. you'd went from a girl he met at a bar to becoming the love of his life, the woman who is now carrying the love you both share. and the ladies at the grocery store, the Kobayashi's, the part timer who's been around even after graduating university years ago? they've all watched him grow.

when Rindou was 17 and had gotten ambushed by a rival gang alone, it was madam Kobayashi who'd ushered him into their store way past the last call and offered to cook him a nice meal, had her medical student son patch him up, her husband to chase away the remaining guys who were waiting for Rindou to come back out. her daughter had been about Rindou's age then, hiding behind the cashier and watching as he ate in silence with a cut to his lip, another on his eyebrow. (to this day still no one except for you, her, and him, knows that the reason he'd gotten ambushed that day was because he'd stood up for miss Kobayashi when she was getting bullied by one of the delinquents. she still thanks him for what he'd done whenever you both finish up your meal and get ready to leave.) Rindou was 17 when he'd first discovered what it was like to care for people; to be a human before anything else.

the two ladies from the grocery store wasn't yet retired and working this job back then. the promoter lady used to be the janitor who was working in the office building of his first job. she'd watched him gone through periods of unknowing, confusion, stress, to become a solid man of status today. the lady who is selling fruits used to work as a professional tutor and had been the one to tutor Rindou and his brother on Mathematics. although she is mute and can't respond in words when her students have confusing questions to ask, the brothers still thought of her as a good teacher because of the way she taught, which is why they'd stuck around and refused to switch teachers despite their parents' disapproval. because she is mute, she can only count on her colleague to dump containers of freshly cut fruits into his cart while motioning for her to tell him things that she actually wants to say to him whenever he visits the store.

the part timer at the florist is a lot younger than he is, but she have been working there for a very long time. watched him when he was still an inexperienced bachelor pacing around the store wondering which flower would be good on a first date to buying the same flowers every Sunday because you'd liked the lilies that she recommended.

it'd be heartwarming for anyone to see the boy you watch grow around love, into love, finding love, to marrying her and becoming a father.

"...yeah. maybe."

[eff4freddie]

Free

No Outbreak AU!Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Words: 7.7k of basically porn lols

You confess to Joel one of your filthiest fantasies, something you've never told anyone before. He's a good man, but you underestimate just how much he will do for you.

Warnings: Minors DNI. Explicit. Free use. Public sex. Praise kink. Beer bottles and dirty dive bars. Tiny lil breeding kink if you squint. Like seriously guys, this is filth. I've gone a little shy of myself? Like wow we are learning some things about Freddie tonight.

Like most wildfires, neither of you were sure where the first ember landed. Joel preferred dive bars, liked the blues on the juke box, the fact that he would wear his flannel and jeans flecked with paint and wood shaving and no one would notice. He knew you preferred the fancier places, occasionally would make an effort, but knew you also didn’t mind sometimes slumming it with him, sometimes just leaning back into a booth and letting the neon red light leech over your skin. You’d never admit it to his face, never give him the power over you, but you didn’t really care where you were so long as it was with him.

You liked it when he lifted the beer to his lips, saw his throat work to swallow it down. It reminded him of the times you’d made him gasp, groan, as he worked his cock into your throat. It felt like an intimate thing, the chords of his muscles working just right there under his skin. Sometimes you reached out, ran your fingertips under his collar, made him shiver. He’d grab your fingers, put them on his lips, press a kiss to them, tell you off for lettin’ ‘em get so cold in the night.

On these nights, when Sarah’s with the sitter and you’re winding down from a long week of work, its these nights when Joel takes you out in a pretty dress or a shirt skirt, waits in his truck while you slip your panties off and puts them in his pocket, helps you down to the street with a hand gripping the back of your thigh. It’s these nights, when Joel’s worked up from the job site, when he’s stressed about Sarah’s teenage rebellious phase, when it’s been a while between drinks, that he’s handsy with you, pushing himself into a booth in a dark corner and pulling you down on top of him, perched in his lap with your legs spread over his so that he can face you out to the bar, open your thighs just as someone walks past, lets you feel the breeze on your cunt while you hide your face in his neck and burn, either from embarrassment or from how wet he’s made you, showing you off like this, you tucking his hands under your bottom to stop him slipping them into you while you try to concentrate on the specials board.

‘Shy, baby?’ he’d tease you, pulling your hair off your neck to bite at your jaw line, whisper dirty nonsense into your ear while you fought for some kind of decency, some way to cover yourself up, at least until you’d finished your first drink.

It was one of those nights, when he’d finally relented and let you eat your meal in peace, that he’d got it out of you, the confession that set the whole thing in motion, the idea taking root in Joel’s mind so swiftly that the tendrils of it spilt into his veins, spiralled down to his cock, made him harder than he ever remembered being.

You knew this about Joel. That it wasn’t a jealousy streak, or an insecurity, that it wasn’t even so much of an exhibitionist streak for him. It was just that he liked showing you off, liked knowing that of all the men in the room who were undressin’ ya, wantin’ ya, he was the one with his fingers buried in your cunt while you struggled to act like nothing untoward was going on. He liked the power of it, the power he had over you, and you wondered sometimes how far he would go with it. What would happen if you were ever found bent over with his cock buried inside you, his hands on your hips pulling you back into him, his teeth bared and his sweat dripping onto your back. You knew without having experienced anything like it that he would probably keep going, that he would like the watching. That he’d probably goad the audience into coming closer, commentate for them, let them see what he, and only he, was wringing from your body as it clamped down around him. The thought of it, the image of it in your mind, kept you awake at night, your cunt throbbing. You felt the pride in it, you supposed, that he desired you so dearly he wanted to show off that he had you.

You knew all of that when you confessed to him what you were thinking about, three beers in and his hand on your knee, rubbing little circles with his thumb, sliding his whole hand over your skin and back down again, not even noticing he was doing it. You watched his pupils blow wide, the far away look come over him as he imagined what you were describing, the way he swallowed, hard.

‘You want that right now?’ he asked, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, not quite believing he’d actually been given the bike he’d asked Santa for.

‘No, not right now, probably not ever,’ you said, flopping your head onto his shoulder and listening to his quickening heartbeat in his neck. ‘Just like to think about it, is all.’

‘Baby you can’t say that to me and not…you have to know what you’re doing to me,’ he all but whined, and you giggled.

‘You wouldn’t mind it?’ you asked, pulling up to look at him again, study his eyes, knowing that you were way out on a limb now. You saw not an ounce of hesitation on his face.

He barely got you out of the place before he had you bent over the bed of his truck, your hands clawing for purchase on the chrome as he drilled into you right there in the parking lot, your face buried in your arms in the hope that the darkness of the night was protecting you both from being arrested.

--

He didn’t bring it up again for another few weeks, both of your jobs getting too busy, Sarah getting too demanding and fourteen, the world conspiring against you to rob you both of your dirty Fridays. Joel was getting pent up, the idea of it bouncing around his mind too often for him to concentrate, but his bones were sore of a nighttime, and he only had the energy to relieve himself in the shower before climbing into bed and switching off the light. You didn’t mind it, had been together a long enough time now to know there would be ebbs and flows. He held you as you slept, he kissed you in the morning even as you tried to shove him off and scold him for his morning breath, promised to take you out when your schedules were clear and knew that he meant it, that he was a man of his sometimes limited words. Sometimes it just went with the territory of wanting him always, you knew, that there would be aching times of not-having.

So you were surprised when you came home from dropping Sarah off at her friend’s for the night and saw his truck in the drive, expecting him much later if the week had been anything to go by. You heard him in the shower and figured he was washing off another stressful day, intending to leave him to it, except that for a man with basically one good ear he was surprisingly adept at knowing where you were at all times, and he emerged, towel wrapped loose around his hips and dripping onto the carpet, to pull you by the arm in with him. You just managed to strip out of your jeans before he was on you, pulling your wet bra off your skin, slipping your underwear down your legs and throwing them into the sink.

‘Won’t need those tonight,’ he said, simply, as you gawped at him, the water running off his shoulders and into your eyes. You leant forward, resting your forehead on his chest. It had been an intense few minutes.

‘Where we going tonight?’ you asked, and he didn’t answer, instead pulling back from you and bending to lift your leg up, hooking it over his elbow. You leant back onto the cold shower tile, the water beating down on your chest, as he dripped your favourite body wash onto a loofah and ran it tightly over your skin, crouching down and slipping your leg over his shoulder to run it up and down the inside of your thighs, each time his fingers sweeping closer to your cunt, the heat and steam of the shower making you light headed as your clit throbbed for him. He was teasing you, working you up and you knew he was going to leave you like this, that this is how the whole night would go unless you did something about it, pushing yourself off the wall and crashing your pussy into his mouth, the sharp angle of his nose landing hard on your clit as he gasped.

It hadn’t been the plan but he wasn’t above improvising. In his head he was just going to tease you a little, make sure that you were up for what he had planned, but this was just as good, just as effective. He was careful not to let you come, careful to keep you right on the edge, the suds and the water running over his mouth and nose as he lathed at your clit, ran his tongue up and down your seam, not letting it dip inside where he knew you wanted him. He looked up your body, watched your hips shudder and the muscles in your tummy roll and contract as you tried to draw him in deeper. He grinned, a huffled little laugh into your pussy. You were furious when he drew back, wet hands trying to grip his hair and keep him there. He held you to him, wrapped you warm up in a towel even as you cussed him out, madder than a barn cat at having had your pleasure interrupted. You were perfect like this, he thought, watching you huff, wild for him. He reminded you to dress for a night out. He made sure your underwear stayed in the sink.

--

You were still pissed, but your curiosity got the better of you when he missed the turn off for the bar, heading instead over the railway track and further out of town. If you had been speaking to him you would have asked where he was taking you, but you were refusing to let him off the hook for his cruelty in the shower. Twenty minutes later, when he pulled up to a bar you’d never seen before, a couple of dirt bikes parked out the front and a few trucks in the lot out the back, he gave you a little tap on the knee. You turned to him, eyebrows shooting up.

‘Figured we better go where no one knows us, baby,’ he said, and he was grinning at you in a way that made your belly flip, an electric bolt shooting straight between your legs.

‘What are you up to, Miller?’ you asked, as he leant over and undid your seatbelt. He made you jump down out of the truck yourself, striding as he was towards the bar. The bright red OPEN sign buzzed over the door, the sound of it reverberating into the air beneath it where you stood, your nerves jangling in tune. Surely he wouldn’t, you thought. You pulled your short skirt down, worried now that without underwear a strong breeze would expose you to anyone passing by. He held the door open for you, darkness behind him and the sounds of clinking glass, tinny guitar over a shitty sound system, chatter and drunkenness.

‘Trust me, baby,’ he said, and you did, you knew you did. He held his hand out to you. You took it.

Once inside you could see a bit better. The bar itself was quite small, a couple of men sitting around it drinking beers and whiskeys. There was a row of booths under the blacked-out windows, a pool table in one corner. By the bar a hallway led down to the bathrooms. You shivered when you saw it.

He led you by the hand to the corner of the bar right next to the hallway, the single stool.

‘This is where I’ll be,’ he said to you, putting your hand on the bar to feel how solid it was, that it was real and that this was happening, to ground you. He pulled you forward, five or maybe six paces down the hallway, to a piece of wall right by the men’s bathroom. He backed you up against it, letting you glance over his shoulder to the stool where you had just been.

‘This is where you’ll be,’ he said to you, his voice heavy and thick and you recognised the want in it, the need. He spun you around, kicking your feet apart and holding your hands up above your head. You tried to breathe but couldn’t seem to get enough air, tried to expand your lungs but you could only puff and gasp, your stomach doing somersaults as he positioned you. He pushed them into the wall, the two of them held together under his palm.

‘You don’t move them from here,’ he said, stern and calm at the same time. ‘You look over your shoulder you’ll see me, but you don’t move these from here. Nod so I know you heard me, baby,’ he said. You nodded your head, your nose almost grazing the plaster of the filthy wall. He pulled your hips out so that you bowed slightly, your arse sticking back behind you. He ran his hands over the back of your thighs, leant down to cup your bottom as he ran his hands up and over, pulled your skirt over your hips.

Your heart was racing so hard you could feel it in your knees, your whole body thrumming as he exposed you to the room. You heard no shouts or protests, your eyes slammed shut and your face buried in your arm. You could feel cool air on your skin as he moved away from you, and you yelped, a bolt of panic shooting through you. You lifted your head and he was there again, his arms over yours as he covered you, brought his mouth down to your ear.

‘You can do this baby, I’m right here,’ he said, and you felt like you might scream or cry or come, you weren’t sure which or what you preferred, your mind scrambling to keep up with the fact that he was letting you play out one of your dirtiest fantasies, that he trusted you this much, that you knew he would keep you safe, would stop it from going too far if you needed him to, that you wanted this, that you wanted to give it to him.

‘Two rules,’ he said, when he could tell you were coming back into yourself, that you were listening. ‘Hands stay on the wall,’ he said, his voice rough and low as he stopped to chew on your earlobe. You could feel you were wet, could feel you were shivering. You hadn’t had a good look at the men in the bar. You weren’t sure if you were glad of it.

‘Second rule,’ he said, and now he was running his hands over your hips and down your belly to rub little circles into your clit. You shuddered, pushing back against him, felt that he was throbbing. ‘No coming ‘til I say so,’ he said, and then he was gone, your body cold and aching where he had just been.

You lifted your head and turned to watch him over your shoulder, your spine twisting to see without moving your hands, now resting palm-down above your head. You saw him calmly order a beer from the bartender, who didn’t bat an eyelid at you standing, skirt over your arse and bent at the waist, the seam of your pussy exposed to the entire bar, your thighs quivering as you felt the slick start to collect on your skin.

All you could do was try and breathe. Try to keep your knees from shaking, your legs from collapsing underneath you. You turned your face back to the wall, your nose resting on the brick, as you gulped down air and tried to swallow on a bone-dry throat. Maybe nothing would happen if you just stayed completely still, you thought. Wasn’t that how they survived the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park?

You could hear the toilet in the men’s room flushing, the tap running as the dude, mercifully, washed his hands. You knew you were seconds away from being confronted, that he would have to squeeze past you if he wanted to get back to his table, that maybe the others wouldn’t have seen you tucked away as you were down the side of the bar, but not now, not where Joel had positioned you. You closed your eyes, the humiliation of it mixing with heat in your cunt, and you couldn’t decide what you wanted to happen, couldn’t quiet your mind enough other than to count backwards from 10 and try to force your lungs to work.

10. You heard the door swing open, the rush of air ruffling the skirt over your lower back.

9. Footsteps striding out of the bathroom, stopping abruptly.

8. A short, sharp exhale of breath. A ‘what the fuck?’. Surprised, but not angry.

7. A long, heavy second or two of silence.

6. A slower footstep. Another. Towards you.

5. A hand, warm and foreign, on your hip as he moved behind you.

4. The thunderous sound of your voice in your head telling you to just stay still, stay still, stay still.

3. A nervous little laugh as he slid behind you, his hips to yours to get past you on the wall. His hand still on your hip but gripping, fingers squeezing at your flesh.

2. A soft swipe of your cunt as he clears you, his fingers gently fluttering over your seam as you stand, exposed and wet.

1. Your gasp, all of the breath you had been trying to get suddenly sweeping into your lungs, a needy little whine on the exhale, a shiver.

And a few moments later, laughter, a group of men on the other side of the bar, a hint of disbelief in it, a hint of awe. You blinked your eyes open, your body quaking. You couldn’t turn your head, wouldn’t turn your head to Joel, but you knew he was there, knew he was watching you quiver, knew he would stop it if it got too much, that you wouldn’t have to ask him, that he would just know. You felt heat on your cheeks and a twist of something in your gut. For a moment you wanted to skip forward to the aftermath, to Joel holding you in bed and loving on you, recounting the events that hadn’t even unfolded yet as you felt the heat of his skin and the strength of his arms, the muscles ripping under his skin as he kissed the shell of your ear and let you drift to sleep, wrapped up in him.

 Joel gripped the neck of his beer bottle harder than he intended, barely registering the cold on his hands. It had been his idea to set this up, he knew that, had rented the whole place out to make a safe space for you to play, had vetted the guys from the job site, had been careful to select the ones he knew would treat you right. Still, though. Still, he could see you were shaking, trying so hard to be good for him with your hands pushed into the wall, and he doubted for just a second, wondered whether he should call it. He could see you were slick between your thighs, could hear that you were breathing heavy. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t feel a surge of something a little like jealousy at the way the eyes of the guys travelled over your delicious curves, curves he had – up until this moment – reserved the sole right to traverse. He wondered if the guys would be able to stick to the limits once they had you under them. He was ready to pull you out of there the moment something got out of hand, but he worried, now and for the first time, that by then it could be too late.

You swallowed over your dry throat. You were trying to stay in your body, to close your eyes and give yourself over to it, but you were still struggling to quiet your mind. This is what you had wanted, and you knew Joel would never push you further than what you had told him you would go. You knew that. But did the other guys? You considered for a moment, the thought occurring to you like a lightning bolt, that Joel had worked you up in the shower precisely so that you would be horny enough not to run for the door the second he tried this. You almost wanted to laugh, except that you were too scared to lest you lose all control.

There were more footsteps, coming towards you from beside the bar, and you swore you heard a group of men cheering the man on. He wasn’t hesitating, whoever this stranger in the bar was, probably having spotted you from across the room. You kept your eyes on the floor, your head hanging low between your shoulders. From this angle you could see your ankles, the heels Joel insisted you wear even though you could barely stand in them, realising now why he wanted you off balance, why he wanted you unable to run for the door. Two pairs of trainers appeared between your ankles, a rough hand coming down to rest on your left butt cheek. It wasn’t a slap, wasn’t even a particularly hard grope, but you whimpered anyway, slammed your eyes shut and immediately wondered if it was better to look or not.

And throughout it all your pussy throbbed. Even if you were in turmoil it knew exactly what it wanted, was hungry for the attention and the desires of all these men, was having a fucking field day knowing Joel was watching you, wanting you, from across the room.

The man behind you slid two fingers over your seam, his breath on the back of your neck as he leaned over you. You shuddered, his skin rougher than Joels, as he prodded at you, eased your lips open and ran his fingers up along the flesh there. You realised he was collecting your slick, felt him pull away and his lips smack around his hand as he, presumably, sucked you off his skin.

‘Jesus, boys,’ he called to his friends over the other side of the room, and you startled. ‘She’s fuckin’ sweeter than honey and dripping onto the floor.’

Under the cheers you swore you heard Joel chuckle, and you shivered. You wanted this man to touch you again, almost whined when he instead moved back to his table. You were sweating, could feel that the small of your back was damp, felt like you had a fever, some kind of delirium, the pulsing of your cunt so intense it almost hurt.

You heard more shuffling footsteps, now, three or four sets, as you realised the table of friends were making their way over to you. You shivered, turned a wild eye over to Joel, who was sipping at his beer and watching you, nodding gently at you to keep you there. You kept your hands on the wall. You wanted to be his good girl.

‘And we can touch her wherever?’ a guy was saying, and you moved your face back to the wall, arching your back slightly, practically waving your cunt in the air.

‘She ain’t protesting,’ a voice said, and you recognised it as the man who had just touched you. To demonstrate his point, he extended his hand to your face and stuck two of his fingers in your mouth, and you sucked them willingly, tasting a hint of yourself on him. You felt your eyes close all by themselves, smiling as the man gasped.

‘Holy shit,’ someone else commented, and you were slapped hard on your arse then, the sting of it making you whine. A finger quickly followed, probing you open again, your copious amounts of slick easing the entry.

‘Like this?’ the voice said, and you realised he was asking you a question, and you nodded your head. ‘Yeah, you like this,’ the voice affirmed, a finger finally sinking into your cunt. You felt yourself spasm, throwing your head back and groaning, your hips rolling all on their own.

‘Tight little thing,’ someone said, and you grunted as another finger was added. You were being pushed into the wall, your face lying on the brick, your hands still planted above your head.

‘Ease it on her a little,’ a third voice said, and you felt another hand snake around you, this one cold on the fingertips, as it slid over your clit.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, the pleasure of it shooting through you. You could feel that you were clamping down on the fingers inside you.

‘She liked that a lot,’ the man beside you said, and he pulled his fingers from your mouth and dropped them to your tit, rubbing the nipple through the barely-there shirt Joel had picked out for you tonight.

You were whimpering, gradually losing control of the sounds you were making, of your little cries into the noise of the bar, and you could hear them snickering, laughing at your pleasurable distress, at the ache and thrum of your cunt, at the way you were so wet you were leaking down your thighs.

You were losing your grip on your thoughts, felt them slipping through you, unable to catch them as they dripped past. From somewhere a memory stirred itself up, sitting on Joel’s lap in the bar you always go to, his hand pushing on your clit from outside your panties as he shielded you from the rest of the patrons, whispering into his ear that you fantasised about being used by strange men, about being set up by him to be groped and fondled, to be watched as men took their pleasure from you, to have to wait for them to be done with you, to be bored of you, before you were released. ‘But they never get bored of me, not really. Sometimes they let me rest for a bit. But they want me that bad, they can’t stop.’

‘How long’s this all take, when you think about it?’ he asked, feeling even through the fabric of your underwear that you were dripping.

‘Sometimes hours,’ you whimpered, breathless just at the thought of it. ‘I’m free for their use, for hours. For hours,’ you said.

--

Now, with your hands against the wall in just the position you had described to Joel weeks before, you bite your lip. God, how long does he plan on keeping you here? You want to come already, want to push down on the hands behind you and flood them with your spend.

These men, though, these three, are just teasing you, and right when you start to rock your hips they pull away again.

‘Unreal,’ one of them says, as if you’re a work of art hanging on a wall in a museum, and you want to howl at them, want to grab their hands and put them back on your skin. You resist the urge, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Joel said no coming, so maybe you should be grateful. Even if you’re now quivering. Even if you’re not sure your legs will keep you standing.

You take a couple of shaky breaths, coming down enough to notice that your shoulders are starting to ache. You roll them, careful to keep your palms connected to the surface, trying to push the hair out of your eyes by running your face along your forearms.

You’re not sure how long you stand there. You try counting the songs on the jukebox but they all sound the same to you, and it’s hard to decipher when one stops and the next one begins. Every now and again there’s the sound of glasses being dumped into the trough behind the bar, clinking ice and peels of male laughter. Once or twice, someone walks past on the way to the bathroom and pat you on the arse, put a hand on your lower back and bend you further, pushing you until your sweet little cunt is more fully exposed. But no one is bold enough to touch, no one is as forward as the three men from before, and you’re feeling a twinge of disappointment settling in between the arousal and the shock. These scant touches aren’t nearly enough, and you realise that you’re pining for someone to come and tease you, play with your cunt or your tits until you’re gasping.

You chance a look over your shoulder at Joel and see that he’s turned away from you a little, his beer in his hand while he chats to a man beside him, and his casual disregard for your predicament infuriates you as much as it sends bolts of heat to your cunt.

You’re being ignored, you realise, and it makes your tummy do weird flips you don’t fully understand. You start to arch your back again, weave your hips in slow circles in the air. You don’t have a lot of mental capacity in this moment, so it’s only later you will consider that Joel had made sure you would beg for any attention, knew that you would be outraged at not being the centre of attention in this moment, that you would reach a new level of depraved heat just to get the eyes back on you. It had maybe been half an hour and you’d gone from praying no one would see you if you didn’t move, to trying to scent the air around you with your cunt, luring them to you like a siren on a rocky cove.

Now, though, now all you want is for someone to touch you, someone to ease their hands onto your skin and feel the heat of it, coo at how mean your man is, how silly for letting a pretty little thing like you out of his clutches. You realise you allowed to close your legs and you do, wrapping one foot behind your ankle so you can rub your thighs together. The skin slides easily and you sigh, gently.

You’re wrapped up in it, your ears tuning out the noise around you to properly concentrate on the thrum of your cunt, so you don’t realise there’s someone behind you until they’re basically on you, kicking your legs apart and arching you back again.

‘Naughty girl,’ the voice says, and it’s not Joel and you’re marginally disappointed but also it means this isn’t over yet, and you grin back at him.

‘Not sorry,’ you say, and you’re pulled back then, almost bent over in a right angle as your hands slide down the wall but stay on it, your arms now covering your ears.

You just barely hear a grunt, then something cold and hard is pushing at your lips for entry, and you realise that you are being fucked in a strange bar with a beer bottle in front of however many strange men, and you groan at the insanity of it, at the filth. He’s twisting it, his other hand finding your clit, and you’re throwing your head back now, your hair falling down your back as you arch, the glass so smooth and cold inside you that you wonder for a second if you’ve fogged it up. Its thrust into you three, four, five times before the man slips it from you, and you hear him take a swig of it, the taste of your cunt on the glass as he lifts it to his lips. He groans, rests a hand on the small of your back as he sips.

‘Sweet?’ someone calls out, and you hear him laugh.

‘Heaven,’ he says. ‘Come get yours before I ruin her.’

You hear chairs being pushed back, and looking down at the floor you count seven pairs of shoes assembling in a line behind you. You can hear some guys are still playing pool, the crack of the 8 ball as someone breaks. You look for Joel’s along the line of shoes behind you. You don’t see them.

There are fingers in your cunt again, two or maybe three, you’re not sure, and you have moved up a little, your tits pressed to the wall as they grope you from behind. It’s delicious, exactly the right pressure in exactly the right spot, as if someone has given them all a manual to your body. Someone lifts your leg under the knee and twists your hip so that you can rest your foot on his thigh, and then you’re even more open, even more exposed. You close your eyes, your spine twisting to keep both arms on the wall, but in this position one man can get underneath you on his knees and lick up into you and you gasp at the feeling of it, the warmth of his tongue compared to the cold of the bottle, and you’re really sweating now, want to rip your top off and pull the skirt from around your waist just to get it out of the way, but someone is using it to hold you still, the fabric bunched under your tits so that you won’t fall. With one mouth on your cunt someone else is behind you with his fingers inside you, and someone else is holding your tits in his hands, his thumbs squeezing and rubbing at your nipples.

Over your shoulder you can hear someone commentating for his friend. ‘Fuck, you thought she was wet before,’ they’re saying, and the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there, like you’re an object for them to play with, a doll, a toy, has you bucking against the tongue on your clit, against the fingers inside you. They’re setting you on fire, the embers catching on gasoline. It’s heaven and its torture and its so, so much.

Fuck, you’re going to come and you can’t stop it. But you have to, you promised Joel. You’re almost wailing now, trying to get the feeling out in some way so that you won’t tip over the edge, and the guys are laughing.

‘Listen to her hollerin’,’ someone says, and you can’t keep your eyes closed anymore, open them to see a bunch of men standing around you, all of them palming their cocks through their pants, as one man crouches under your form, his shoulder pushed hard into the wall to get under you. You can’t see the man behind you but one is off to the side, his eyes on our cunt as he bounces your tits in his hands.

‘Oh, hey beautiful,’ one of the men watching says when he catches your eye. He’s handsome, they all are, you realise, and they’re all in their early 30s and they’re all incredibly fit, and if you had any presence of mind in this moment you would consider that this was an odd coincidence, but as it is right now you just want their cocks in your mouth, want their come dripping over your tits and your face. The one behind you, with his fingers buried in your cunt, is grinding against you and for a deranged moment you consider freeing him from his pants and slipping him inside you.

‘She’s so fucked out,’ someone laughs, and you’re gasping, crying out as if that will stop you from coming, but it’s not enough, the cliff is right there. You’re rolling your hips, your mouth agape and gasping when you’re not howling for relief.

‘Like a bitch in heat,’ someone says. ‘Hey, tag out.’

All of them stop, hold you steady for a second. You’re panting, your legs weak as you lean your weight on the wall. You can feel yourself receding from the cliff again, can feel the throb in your cunt easing off just enough that you can think. Your leg is dropped back to the floor, and you are jostled back into position as the men rearrange themselves, and you realise they’re taking turns using you. Even without their hands on you, the thought alone could make you come. You want to turn your head to look for Joel but they’re crowding around you, and for a second there’s a drop of panic in your belly before it’s replaced again with wildfire. You know he’s there. Know he’ll stop it if he needs to.

‘Holy shit, she’s still so tight,’ someone says, slipping back into place in your cunt, and another man laughs. ‘Get the bottle again, stretch her out.’ Their hands are probing again, a man finger-fucking you from the front now, another holding you up from behind as they twist you off to the side. They’re all staring at your cunt, at where you’re spreading open to take them, marvelling at the intrusion.

‘How many fingers you reckon she can take?’ someone asks, and you buck your hips away from it, away from how obscene it is, from how irrevocably turned on in makes you.

‘Joel said not to mark her,’ someone says, and much later you will recall this, recognise this as the moment you might have realised he had set all of it up, including who these men were. As it was you were too busy trying to quell the rushing bliss thundering through you, trying to hold back the cracking dam with your pinkie finger and good will.

‘Scoot over, then,’ someone says, and you are moved again, your legs opened up a little further so that two hands can be inside you at once, their fingers moving just out of sequence enough that they rub at different speeds, forming a relentless piston, a wave of pleasure that’s going to drag you under, fill your lungs.

You can’t take it. Your eyes are blurring from unshed tears, the respite from moments ago disappearing under the weight of the bodies covering you. Are your hands still on the wall? You open your eyes a crack to check. You want them to throw you over their shoulders and slip their cocks inside you, one in front and one behind. You want to roll on the floor with them, have them line up and sink yourself down on them one by one like some kind of deranged Goldilocks. You want every last one of them to come on you, in you, to breed you, to make you theirs.

You can feel your back arching, can feel that you’re rearing up again, the pleasure twisting up your spine and elongating it, your head pulling hard up and away from your shoulders. You’re holding your breath, trying to keep the orgasm away, but it’s bolting up on you.

‘I can’t, I can’t,’ you’re saying, and you’re not even sure what you can’t do exactly. Can’t hold it back, can’t take anymore, can’t stop. Can’t come like this, not allowed to. Joel’s good girl.

‘Hey!’ a voice booms from the bar and you recognise it immediately, Joel standing up and moving towards you. He’s seen you struggling, has seen your hips rolling and heard your wails as you tried to hold back for him. ‘I said no comin’!’ he bellows, and you groan. Your knight in shining armour has arrived just to keep fucking torturing you.

‘Joel!’ you cry, whine, nearly in tears for the need of him. Suddenly you don’t want any of these guys, you just want him, want his smell and the sweet softness of his flannel, want his eyes on you and his whispers in your ear. Want his cock inside you, his come claiming you from within. He’s shouldering his way to you, pushing the guys out of the way, and then he’s with you, your heart racing as his hands are on your shoulders, turning you back to the wall.

‘So good f’me, baby, I know, I know,’ he’s soothing you and you realise you’re sobbing, your breaths coming in deep huffs.

‘Please, please,’ you’re calling for him, and you feel his arm around your waist, feel him scrabbling around to undo his belt and pull down his fly, at the same time as he’s lifting you up and pulling you down on his cock, the fit of him so perfect inside you, his skin inside yours. The guys are watching and you don’t care, because finally he’s with you again, finally he’s the right one, and you’re groaning and gasping, calling his name as he whispers filth in your ear.

‘None of these men get your come,’ he’s saying, ‘none of these guys. Just me that makes ya come, ya hear me?’ and you’re nodding.

‘I want you to make me come, Joel. Only you, only you.’

‘Can feel you grippin’ me, baby,’ he’s babbling, and he’s not sure he’s ever been so hard. He was so patient, watching the guys take you apart bit by bit, until your eyes were unfocussed and your mouth was hanging open, gasping and trying so hard to catch your breath. He could see it in the strain of your muscles, in the way you were panting and hollerin’, that you were holding off for him, that you were keeping yourself sweet and well behaved out of love for him, out of desire, and despite all the other men in the room that wanted you he knew in that moment you were his, that you were his good girl, his, his, his.

It hadn’t been his plan to fuck you like this, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you callin’ for him. He’d thought he’d just let you come on their hands or their faces, or that you would eventually break and he’d get to slap your arse a little as punishment, but not that you would nearly snap every bone in your body, let your sinew scream and strain, just to stay his good girl.

He surges forward, gripping you to him with one arm, and raises his other hand to cover yours, still pushing into the wall of the bar. He can feel that the skin is ragged underneath, that the exposed brick has grazed you from your effort of keeping your hands there, and he resolves to bathe you in warm water and lick every inch of broken skin the moment he gets you home.

But not yet. Right now, he’s pushing himself further inside you, lifting you up a little so that you’re just on your tippy toes on the floor, balancing on his cock so he can get even deeper inside. You’re keening, your whole body shaking, and you’re not sure you’re going to survive this but you really, really don’t mind going out this way.

You don’t even have words. You can barely get air. You just entwine your fingers with Joels’ where he holds your hands to the wall, tuck your chin to your chest and howl, the orgasm crashing over you and rolling almost immediately into another one, Joel behind you and fucking up into you while you know you still have an audience, while they’re coming onto the floor at your feet, jerking it to the idea of them being the ones to be inside you, of their cocks splitting you open and feeling your cunt milk them dry. You don’t care about any of them, don’t care that they want you so much they’ll settle for their own fists, because all you want is this man, this one inside you and coming deep into your cunt, this one who loves you, who carries you now in his arms with warmth and strength, who is holding you up as he ruts his spend into you, as he gasps and cries out for you, in this very fucking public dive bar just off the highway, where you know you can never step foot again.

--

He doesn’t let you sink to the floor, no matter how badly your legs want to give out on you, but is instead wrapping his hands under your knees, under your arms and lifting you to him.

‘Dirty down there, baby,’ he says, and you open one eye to see the streams of come decorating where you were just standing. The men have all disappeared, knowing that the fun is over, and Joel has wrapped his coat around you at some point, and your muscles are loose and stretched and shaking, suddenly cold from the chill of your sweat in the open air. You tuck your head under his chin, listen to the way he grunts, quietly, when he pushes open the door with his shoulder and carries you to the car. You feel him drop you into the passenger seat of the truck, feel him put the seatbelt on you and turn the heater up as soon as the engine starts.

You can’t move, your whole body spent. You realise by how dark the night is outside the car window that it has been hours. That he has given you everything you asked for, and then just a little bit more. You crack one eye open to watch him as he drives, the streetlights strobing over his face, the scruff on his cheeks, the pointed angle of his nose, the greys appearing by the day in his hair.

You feel your eyes drift shut again, the heat of the car and the warmth of his jacket soothing you down to sleep. He has given you something you only ever dreamed about, something you never even hoped to one day have. You don’t mean the guys in the bar.

Tag list:

@kyloispunk

@604to647

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 7

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, don't wanna spoil but just be aware!

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Good things don’t last. And both you and Simon were about to have a cruel reminder.

Simon stuck around after the two of you had shared the intimacy of a kiss. He didn’t let it go farther than just that, and neither did you. In fact, the rest of his time spent cooped up in your apartment was rather quiet and calming, despite the events that had taken place.

There was still fresh blood on his hands. He had let Ghost take over his senses and consume him in a blind rage, only to return to you as Simon, rage simmering into a flutter of calm. 

Simon felt like he was lying to you. And truthfully, part of him was. You didn’t know about the realness of his job or what he did. You didn’t see the knives he embedded in unexpecting men and women, or the droplets of powdered poison slipped into their glasses at parties. You were blissfully unaware of the true nature of his being.

Simon couldn’t exist without Ghost, but Ghost could certainly thrive without Simon.

Ghost could also live without you. No – he’d have to live without you, at some point. Simon just didn’t want to.

He was being selfish and he knew it. He was taking advantage of a woman who had no business being involved with him, yet his heart was unable to let you go and finish the job, the job he’s always been destined to do until death did he part.

Simon had been lying to you, and now, all of it was crumbling down on him.

Price’s text stared back at him from the brightness of his phone screen. It was like staring into the eyes of death, causing his chest to fill with a sickening tightness that made it hard to breathe.

“We need to talk. You know where to meet me.”

So he left you. He made sure you were fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, sheets pulled up to your ears, and he selfishly allowed himself a minute to stare down at your snoozing figure. So peaceful, you were, eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning beautifully across the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth was parted with puffs of air exhaling from your lips, ones he had pressed kiss after kiss against the night before.

Selfish.

The streets were busy as he walked, yet the impending doom that hung over him like a storm cloud muted the sounds and circled him in a bubble. He didn’t hear the chatter of people passing by, nor the cars that revved and honked from the roads beside him.

It was a cruel silence as he went, like his mind was shutting down all aspects of life in a cruel reminder of the ones he’d taken away.

Price resided in a remote apartment complex, one that showed just how much he worked for what he did. Killing people, just like him, but taking on a role on the side of watching over him as well as Gaz and Soap. Brothers they were, all of them, and now Simon feared he was fucking up the dynamic by being greedy.

“Ghost,” Price greeted as he opened the door. Simon gave him a curt nod and entered the residence, following behind Price.

The man in question was silent when he made way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He offered Simon none in return, and Simon knew it was his subtle way of showing disappointment.

“Let’s chat,” Price mused, gesturing with a hand for Simon to join him in the living room.

Simon sat with his fists on his knees, back straight as a board, as Price sat in front of him in a much more relaxed state, leaning back and resting an ankle on his knee. He sipped at the tea, eyes boring into Simon’s.

“You fucked up, Simon.” Straight and blunt, cutting right to the chase. It stuck into Simon like a bee sting. “Killin’ a man outside of a job. Killin’ him of your own free will.”

Graves. The memory of his body, stabbed ruthlessly in his kitchen, his blood puddling the floor in a red mess, staining Simon’s skin an ugly crimson that he spent lifetimes scrubbing off. Mutilated, mangled, completely unrecognizable, all from Ghost’s doing.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Price roared, displaying the layered frustration he had kept abay up until now. “This is your job, Simon, our job. You kill to get paid, not kill for your own pleasure.”

“I know.”

“You know, and still did it.”

“I fucked up.”

“Damn right you fucked up, Simon,” Price sneered. He stared at Simon with a look of anger, before it simmered down to one of muted frustration, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut, before dropping his hand back down. “You need to let her go.”

“Who?” Simon asked, and Price scoffed.

“Don’t be coy. Gaz told me everythin’. Had Soap follow you around when you killed that Graves guy, saw you go back to your little bird’s place. You know who I’m talkin’ about.”

Fuck.

He’d been sloppy, all because of you. Simon never, in all his time of being a hitman, missed the feeling of watching eyes following him around. He never missed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at the feeling of something or someone watching, observing, never missed the shiver running down his spine in a cold chill.

“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Simon–”

“I know–”

“--yet you’re playin’ it like it is. This is a civilian’s life we’re talkin’ about, and not only did you kill Graves without payment, but you haven’t clipped your damn bird of her wings like she wants.”

Every single word was a harsh slap to the face, and Simon hated to admit that Price was right. He had rejected the job offer you’d given him from the very beginning. You wanted to die, you wanted to seek safe haven, yet he took that away from you. He wanted to save you, wanted to show you that life had meaning in its own ways, yet where were his reasons to stay?

Simon was a fucking hypocrite. Both to you, and himself.

“You know what you have to do, Simon.”

Simon stared at Price with eyes narrowed in confusion. He studied the firm lines that littered Price’s face, the way his mouth tugged into a frown, nearly covered by his facial hair. The tea he nursed was now growing cold in the presence of his lap, one hand curled around the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

“You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” Simon scoffed.

“I am, and I will. You either let her go and forget she exists, or you kill her off like you were intended to do in the first place. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll have Soap do it. Your choice.”

Price was giving Simon an option, though really, it wasn’t a choice at all. Either way, Simon would lose you, and he’d be forced to toss you aside like worthless garbage, or be forced to see the life drain from your eyes.

He fucked up, big time. He shouldn’t have brought this upon you. How selfish could he be?

Ghost was the person he was destined to be. Ghost was who he truly was. Up until he met you, he was content with that. He was the best of the best, and performed his job like it was a mundane task. Simple. Easy.

You slowed him down. You broke down the walls he’d so carefully built, brick by brick, all because you were a direct clone of who he used to be before he tread down this path of sinful bloodshed. He was an idiot to think he could have you without suffering the repercussions.

You didn’t deserve that, nor did you deserve a man like him – so broken and bruised, his heart too shattered to glue back together, not even by the tenderness of your own hands.

Maybe death really was the best ending for you. But Simon was a greedy bastard and couldn’t allow a world to spin without a piece of you occupying it.

“I’ll let her go,” he finally agreed. His tongue felt as if it were sharp as knives, slicing the gums of his mouth open with every word. Metallic saliva coated his tongue, filling his mouth with vials of blood. “I’ll cut off contact. Erase her number, forget she existed, so long as you don’t lay a hand on her.”

Price stared at him with an unreadable look. It was like he was pondering, examining, trying to crawl his way into Simon’s little mind and take a gander on what he was thinking. It was intrusive, invasive, and Simon looked away.

“She knows too much,” Price replied, tone much softer and sympathetic than before. “None of us want to hurt her, and her bein’ involved will only risk her safety. I’m happy you found somebody, Simon, I am. But you knew what you were gettin’ into. We can’t fraternize with the innocent, or else somebody else will just end up killin’ her instead of us.”

Simon scowled beneath his mask, crossing his arms over his chest in a defense mechanism. He didn’t want to admit that once again, Price was right, and Simon would’ve been the asshole that would’ve eventually gotten you killed or hurt.

Good things weren’t meant for people like him. You weren’t meant for people like him.

You were a flower in a blooming field of color, while he was the parasite that ate away at your soft petals.

Simon left Price’s with a sour taste in his mouth. It was bile rising in his throat and threatening to combust. It tainted his tongue with sickening acid, and no matter how much he tried to swallow it down, it grew stronger.

He lost track of how long he’d stared down at the messages on his phone, all from you.

“Hey, Si! Where’d you go?”

“Tell me when you have to leave for a job next time, dummy.”

“I’ll pick up some food for you later when you come by!”

Every message was a slice in the arteries of his heart. It filled him with aching pain, one nothing could ever smooth over. You were the bandages that held him together, and what was he? The bastard who took advantage.

He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t click the block button on your contact, he couldn’t walk away like he should. Not without seeing you one more time – because that’s all he was. Selfish, selfish, selfish, a word that echoed in his mind on repeat like an irritating buzz.

Simon’s legs moved on their own accord, already mapping out the path towards your apartment. He knew you’d be home, he knew you were waiting for him to return like normal for his nightly endeavors in your presence.

He moved in earnest, strides long and swift, passing by people on the street without a second thought. He kept his eyes trained forward, not letting a single distraction stop him from seeing you.

Just one goodbye. That’s all he needed.

Making it to the front of your door, he found himself slamming his fist along it, the booming knock filling the hallway. He never knocked, it wasn’t his thing, yet here he was, mind so cloudy that it was the first thing he thought to do.

When the door opened and he saw your ruffled expression, he released a sharp exhale, one he thinks he’d been holding the entire run here. His chest visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching, hand dropping to his side once the door was tugged away from his knocking.

“Simon?” you asked, lifting a hand up to grab hold of his shoulder in attempts to keep him steady while he caught his breath. “You– are you okay?”

“I–” he sputtered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simon stared at you before pushing his way into your apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it up tight.

Millions of thoughts raced around his head, and all of them revolved around you. Not a single thought went unnoticed by your being, and they fluttered around anxiously, like butterflies rapidly flapping their wings and crossing over one another.

“Simon,” you called out again, and he snapped his head to look over at you. Your face was filled with concern, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes shifted down, watching the way you frowned. Even when you were taut up tight, you still made him feel dizzy at the sight of you.

Simon’s body moved on its own accord. It was like he lost complete control, instincts taking over.

He tugged off his mask in a frenzy, letting it fall to the floor, before he surged towards you and took your lips in his. The kiss was feverish, desperate. It had your body jolting backwards at the sheer force of it, but when you regained your composure, you quickly fell into his kiss like a helpless puddle of goo.

Limbs entangled with one another, his arms bracketing around your waist and holding you as if letting go would cause you to disappear forever. Your chest was pressed flush against him, leaving you no room to wiggle out, but you melted into him with ease, uncaring of the sudden display of need.

It was dizzying, staggering. It left your mind a fumbled mess.

“Si–” you attempted to croak, word getting cut off as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart,” he breathed, nuzzling his face into the span of your jaw, lips brushing faintly against the skin. “I just need you. Please.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, hand coming up to tangle in the short locks of hair on his head. They were soft against your palm, and you smoothed them down.

“How–?”

“All of you. Please, sweetheart, just– you trust me, right?”

Selfish.

“Of course,” you mused. You felt him smile against your neck.

“Then please.”

“...Okay, Simon,” you whispered, because how could you deny the very man who did nothing but care for you to his best ability? Who saved you when nobody else was there to pick up the pieces and mend you together with the craftiness of their hands? “Okay.”

Simon breathed a heavy sigh of relief before pressing needy kisses along the expanse of your throat. Your head lolled to the side to allow him more access, mouth parting to release quiet gasps of surprise.

Every movement of his was unlike anything he’d done. He was always so calculated, so accurate and careful, yet this time, he was sloppy and unsystematic. It was as if he were only allowing his mind to take over, rather than logistics and realism.

The two of you moved in a clumsy dance, with him guiding you back towards the space of your bedroom with his arms unwavering around you and his lips continuing a messy attack on your neck. When you somehow made it past the door frame and into the comforting safe haven of your bedroom, his hands slipped down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head in a hurry.

“Is everything okay, Simon?” you asked worriedly, and he smiled at you, a tinge of sadness lingering at the back of his pupils.

“Just want to spend time with my pretty girl. Can I do that, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him when his hands came to a standstill against your hips, thumbs lightly brushing over the supple skin. His expression was so soft, one he only reserved for you and nobody else. The lines along his face were smoothened into a tender look, and you couldn’t help but admire it with a smile.

“You always can,” you assured, missing the way Simon winced.

Simon rushed forward once again, and your mouths met in an uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. It was hot and heavy, demanding and eager, and it showed in the way he lightly pushed you back to rest on your bed.

One of his hands pressed into the mattress next to your head while the other glossed over your side, cold fingertips causing goosebumps to rise. You shuddered, resting your own hands on each side of his jaw, tangling yourself and getting thrown into his web of affection.

“Wanna touch you,” he rasped, fingers sliding down to the hem of the pajama shorts you had yet to change out of, toying with it but not daring to pry until your say so. “Please.”

You sucked in a breath before promptly nodding, and that was all he needed to slip his fingers past the waistband, dipping his fingers into the warmth of your cunt. He was greeted with sweet wetness, and he let out a quiet groan into the curve of your neck, pressing a messy kiss there.

The pads of his fingers scooped up a bit of your slick like candied nectar, before rolling it around your clit, causing your legs to jolt in surprise. Air filled your lungs, burning at the expanding of your chest, before being released in a blissful form of a sigh, eyes fluttering up at him.

“M’gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmured against your neck.

Simon’s fingers continued to toy at your clit with a feverish motion, circling at a messy pace. It wasn’t steady, but it didn’t matter – it felt good, and it brought butterflies to swarm in your stomach, blooming at the newfound feeling.

He was so gentle in the way he treated you, yet balanced it out with subtle desperation that had your toes curling as he worked wonders against your cunt. He’d circle your clit, before dipping down to tease at the wetness that sopped out of your hole, just to slide back up to continue the torturous prodding against your sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Simon,” you breathed, voice cracking.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his voice laced with sultry sweetness to it. “That okay, pretty girl? Wanna ruin you, fuck.”

“Please,” you pleaded, and the shakiness in your tone had him kissing you once before sliding his lips down. His fingers slipped out of your shorts, and before you could protest, they tugged down the fabric, soft against your legs, before he dropped them on the floor.

His hands gently spread your legs, and without a single hint of warning, you felt the warmth of his tongue press flat against your clit while his finger eased inside of you. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a strangled noise, hand frantically grasping on to his hair and gripping.

It was like the heavens were opening in the clouds above, shining warm rays of light all over you and heating you up from the inside. It was a delicious feeling, the way he sucked and slobbered all over your cunt like a man on a mission, his finger fucking inside of you with earnest.

Messy sounds filled the room combined with your pitiful whimpers and gasps of his name, and they only egged him on further.

If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he’d make it count. Your pleasure was his, and nothing else mattered.

One finger quickly became two, and he created a rhythm between fucking you with his fingers and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. The stimulation had you keening, already teetering on the edge of insanity. Your mind was blank and void of anything but moans of Simon’s name.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he breathed into your cunt, making you whine. “Come on. Cum on my fingers, know you can.”

His voice sent vibrations straight through your body, and your back arched with a wail, thighs clamping around his head in a death grip. They shook with the aftershocks of your climax, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing down every bit of you until it became too much.

He only released you when your fingers tugged on his hair, and when he sat back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Simon smiled at you, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, pouring over with nothing short of admiration and awe.

You laid on the bed, breathless and sated, a sheen of sweat covering the expanse of your skin. It glimmered in the dim light of your room, and he pressed delicate kisses along the salty sweetness, making his way up your body.

“So good, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Told you m’gonna take care of you.”

You could nothing but nod dumbly, eyes half lidded as you watched him reach down between your two bodies to fiddle with the buckle of his pants. It clanged together, filling the air with glimpses of what was to come next, and when he got it undone, he wasted no time in tugging them down until he was bare from the waist down.

The sight was beautiful. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, a slight shine over the flushed tip from precum, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

This was Simon in all of his glory, and only you had been the lucky one to see it. What an honor.

“So pretty,” Simon breathed, causing your gaze to snap up from his cock and to his face. His mouth was parted as his large hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he looked at you. His breath fanned over your mouth from the close proximity. “So beautiful. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mind turned to mush at his words. You squirmed against the bed sheets, shyly looking away from him. His free hand came up to gently grasp your jaw, drawing you back to look at him, and his smile knocked the wind out of you.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he repeated, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

The feeling of the head of his cock lining up with your entrance had you gasping into his mouth, and he smiled against you, eyes unwavering from yours as he stretched you open.

It was an ecstatic feeling, one that filled you to the brim with elation. It burned inside of you with flickering flames of want.

He continued to push, and push, until he was flush with you, fully seated inside of your warm, slippery heat. There was a scratch that only Simon could itch, and he knew this. It was why when he began to move inside of you, he started off slow before burrowing into a needy pace filled with smothering desire.

Simon rested his forearms on each side of your head, hovering over you while his hips snapped into you, greedily taking everything you had to offer. It sent you into a puddled mess, mouth hung open as throaty moans escaped every time he took more and more. Your fingernails dug into his biceps, grounding yourself as much as you could with the way your body jolted back and forth from the force of him fucking you.

Fucking? Is that what it was? It felt much more meaningful than that. Simon kissed you with sentiment, thrust into you with aching longingness, praised you like a goddess in the sky and you were his saint.

His groans and grunts filled your ears like lovely symphonies, each note sending goosebumps to rise along your arms and neck. It was a beautiful song, filling you with the wonders of emotions. You couldn’t get enough.

“My pretty girl,” he sighed. His own words seem to turn him on further, as his pace increased, becoming an aggressive slap of skin with every thrust. His cock dragged mercifully along the walls of your cunt, his leaking tip hitting the spongy spot and causing your body to go lax as you took and took. “What are you doin’ t’me?”

“Simon,” you whimpered, and he chuckled out a breathy laugh. With his forearms still resided on the sides of your head, his fingers interlocked on the top of your head, holding you firm against him and keeping you in place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me. Don’t deserve you.”

You clamped around him, causing him to groan. His pace was becoming messy and sloppy, but no less relenting.

“I’ll make sure you’re cared for. Won’t ever have to worry ‘bout anythin’ with me around,” he whispered, and you weren’t fully processing the words. To you, it was mindless babble that you simply took in through the hazy state of your mind, nodding eagerly at every empty promise.

The two of you were growing restless, your bodies building a molten core of unleashed pleasure that threatened to erupt at any given moment. It was hot and scalding, burning the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, almost mockingly. You cried, fingernails digging into his biceps so harshly, the skin nearly broke with pebbled drops of blood. “Yeah? Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Your own body was betraying you, and you succumbed to the burst of bliss, chest pressing up against his, needy cries singing from your lips. Your eyes spotted with hints of black, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Simon didn’t allow himself his own pleasure until you had yours, so when he felt you clench around him in a vice, he let himself go, spilling into you and flooding you with milky warmth. It coated your insides like a beautiful painting, filling you with douses of his undying affection.

He slumped on to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. The two of you laid there in comforting silence, catching your breaths and processing the new intimacy formed between you.

While you were riding on a cloud of euphoria, Simon was being dragged into the deepest pits of hell.

Selfish.

What a horrible person he was. All he had to do was let you go, but he did even worse than he had done before.

This was worse than killing men and women. This was worse than killing Graves out of rage.

He was going to leave you behind, make you feel like you meant nothing more than a calculated fuck, and he was going to burn in hell for it. All because he fell in love with you, all because he couldn’t kill you.

When Simon helped clean you up and buried you in your blankets, he waited until you were asleep, sedated and happy. Your frown lines were smoothed over with a look of peace and ecstasy, and he traced along the flush of your skin until he knew it was time.

He carefully made his way out of the comfort of your bed, movements slow as not to disturb you. He gathered his clothes, sifting them on with a hint of resentment for his own actions, and he left.

Just like that, he left.

Simon blocked your number without so much as a goodbye text, or an explanation, telling you that you did nothing wrong. He didn’t tell you that he was the issue, that he was the one in the wrong. Didn’t tell you he fell in love with you, and now he was facing the consequences for it.

He typed out one final message to Price, hoping to satisfy the bastard for what he forced him to do.

“It’s done.”

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo frowns at his phone.

Or more specifically, at the test on his phone.

Around him, he hears the sound of his brothers tapping their own devices, much faster than he is. Looking up just makes Leo feel worse about his own progress - or lack-thereof.

Mikey’s the fastest, speeding through the test like nobody’s business. He’d been the one to make them all do this stupid test in the first place, so it makes sense that he’s having a blast.

Raph’s slower than Mikey is, but he’s still clearly answering the questions at a steady pace. Sometimes he looks unsure, but he powers through anyway.

Donnie often looks frustrated, which relieves Leo somewhat because at least someone is struggling like him. But that “struggle” isn’t nearly as big as his own, considering that Donnie is answering about as fast as Raph is.

Leo turns his gaze back down to his own test. He’s still near the beginning, he thinks.

He’d put the same answer for the past seven questions - the middle of the road answer, neither a “yes” or a “no.” Then, whenever he does come across one that is more one direction than the other, he second guesses himself and restarts the test!

Sure, there are a few he could definitely give a yes or a no to, but…never the “strongly agree” or “strongly disagree” that the test seemed to want from him.

He eyes his twin sitting nearby, the softshell absorbed in the test. Maybe Leo should copy what Donnie put for some of these…

“DONE!” Mikey’s shout makes Leo freeze in place just as he started to lean over.

“What?” Donnie squawks, “No way you’re already finished, you must’ve been cheating!”

“It’s a personality test, Dee!” Mikey stuck his tongue out, “You can’t cheat at those!”

…

Leo settles back into his seat.

Ignoring Donnie’s mutterings about how it was “just because it’s not an academic test” that he didn’t finish first, Raph smiles encouragingly at Mikey.

“Hey, good job! So what’d you get, Mike?”

Mikey looks back down at his test, reading aloud, “Says that I got the “Campaigner”!”

“What’s that mean?” Leo asks, his phone screen going dark.

“Apparently, I’m an “enthusiastic, creative, and sociable free-spirit”.” Mikey reads, smiling at them, “You think it fits?”

“Oh, to a T, bro!” Leo laughs, giving Mikey a thumbs up, making Mikey’s smile grow larger.

Inside, Leo was feeling a lot more mixed about this. He has no idea how Mikey knew himself so well. Maybe Donnie was right and Mikey did cheat, because how could he answer those questions so easily?

Leo’s phone burns in his hand. He keeps it locked.

“Wow, that really is you.” Raph says, his eyes flitting back and forth between his own test and Mikey, “Do you think it fits?”

“I guess? It’s fun to see at least!” Mikey shrugs with a grin.

“Hold on, I think…” Raph makes a noise of satisfaction, “Okay, done!”

“Sigh, now I’m relegated to the straggler group.” Donnie grumbles, his thumbs moving faster as he tries rushing through the questions.

“Ooh, what’d you get Raph?” Mikey asks, practically bouncing in curiosity.

“Says, uh…I got something called the “Consul”?” He squints his eyes to read more, “Uh, “caring, social, and community-minded.””

“Sounds about right to me.” Leo nods. Can’t be more “community-minded” than being a hero.

“Yeah, no one’s more caring than you, Raphie!” Mikey says, moving to lean across Raph’s shell.

“You do put the community in mind, that’s for sure.” Donnie states, not looking up.

Raph chuckles, a bit embarrassed, “Aw, thanks. It’s just some test, but it feels kinda good to hear that.”

Just a test. Right.

Leo unlocks his screen.

The test stares back at him.

Right. Okay. He can do this. He can.

The screen ends up going dark again.

Frustration builds up in Leo. Was he even halfway done with the test? At this rate, soon even Donnie will-

“FINISHED.”

Leo unlocks his phone.

“What’d you get, DonTon?” Leo asks as his thumb taps the top right of the screen.

Donnie puffs up proudly, a self sure grin on his face, “I got the result “Logician” which states that I, obviously, am an “innovative inventor with a thirst for knowledge.” Truly could not have described me better, if I do say so myself.”

“It is pretty accurate.” Raph agrees with a nod, “Even calls you an inventor, so extra accurate.”

“Super accurate.” Mikey jumps in, eyes shining.

“Yes, yes, almost like reading my own character synopsis.” Donnie’s grin had not dwindled since the word “innovative” had left his mouth.

Leo just nods along, eyes on his own screen as he skims the words. “Yeah, kinda creepy how close it got. Could have called you a nerd for extra accuracy, though.”

Donnie turns to him, eyes narrowing, “Have you even finished your test? I can think of a few words that’d describe you fairly well.”

“Test-y, huh?”

Before Donnie can strangle Leo, Raph cuts in.

“Ok, ok, calm it down, guys.” He rolls his eyes before turning to Leo. “But really, you’re not done yet?”

“Leo’s taking this self reflection seriously.” Mikey sports a faux intellectual expression as he gives a jokingly serious nod. “Maybe we all should’ve taken our time.”

“Says the one who sped through the whole thing in a record time.” Donnie mutters.

Leo waves them all off, “Nah, I finished it ages ago.”

He grins when Donnie immediately shoots him a suspicious glare. “Oh, you did, did you? Then what could you have possibly gotten, Nardo?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Leo clears his throat, “Neon Leon just so happens to be an “Entertainer.””

“Ah. That confirms it. This test is meaningless.” Donnie drones.

“Hey-“

“What’s an Entertainer like?” Mikey asks with a tilt of his head, still hanging off of Raph’s shell.

“Glad you asked, Miguel!” Leo exclaims, “It says that “life is never boring” around yours truly~”

He emphasizes this “result” of his by waving his phone with said “result” on screen.

It’s just an image he found of his chosen personality result, but they don’t need to know that.

Raph nods slowly, “Well, I guess that’s true…”

“”Never boring” is one way to put it.” Donnie hums.

“You are pretty fun, Leo!” Mikey says emphatically, because he’s great like that.

“Thank you, thank you, life of the party, right here.” Leo grins, pointing both thumbs at himself.

He’s careful not to go too overboard with it, or else it might tip someone off.

Not that it…really matters. It’s just a test. Like Raph said.

As the topic around him shifts to something else, jumping away from this brief activity as fast as any other among them, Leo finds himself unlocking his phone and pulling up the test again.

Unanswered questions stare at him. He knows what answers Lou Jitsu would pick. He knows what answers Jupiter Jim would pick. Hell, he knows exactly what answers his brothers would pick.

He doesn’t know what answers Leonardo would pick.

Leo stares at the test for a second longer, before he exits the site and throws himself into the conversation happening around him.

It’s just a stupid test, nothing to worry about.

Just a test…

[my-castles-crumbling]

Oh 😈 - A Jegulus Microfic

Based on a post by @lexithwrites - explicit, minors dni

He was in heaven. Or the closest he'd ever come to it.

"Yes, baby. Just like that," he murmured, feeling Regulus grind against him from above.

"Fuck, Jamie. You feel so good," Regulus groaned, again sinking on James's cock, making him moan and buck up into him again.

Regulus looked sinful. His hair was wild and wrecked, sweat was dripping down his lean chest. He bit his lip and pinched his eyebrows together has he moved, and held eye contact with James like it was his job, making James feel even more pinned by the beautiful man on top of him. It was erotic, giving up so much control, allowing Regulus to take him, physically and mentally, and make him feel so incredibly good.

He lived for it.

Regulus's thighs flexed and moved underneath James's hands as he rode his cock hard, his movements slow but deep, driving the two of them together so completely that James was sure neither was going to last long.

But then suddenly Regulus slipped. It was a combination of Regulus not having a secure hold on anything and James moving up against the delicious feeling of being so deep inside the other man, and all of a sudden, Regulus fell forward and his hand closed around James's throat.

James wasn't sure what made him do it. But he did it without thinking. He gasped, choked Regulus's name out like a prayer, the feeling of Regulus's fingers around him making him feel so controlled and so free all at the same time that his hips bucked and his back arched clean off the bed, almost unseating the smaller man as James's eyes rolled back and he came so hard he saw stars.

"Baby," he whimpered, tears streaming from his eyes as he writhed through the pleasure, Regulus quick enough to start moving on him as he finished, coming not long after with the help of his own fist.

But as they both opened their eyes and stared at each other, the shock of what had happened clear on both of their features, Regulus broke into a grin. "Oh," he murmured, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "Choking. That could be fun."

James grinned sheepishly, too fucked out to really care.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

NO MORE TEASING

Pairing : Cillian Murphy x fem! reader

Summary : You’re Cillian’s make up artist and set a ‘professional boundary’. Cillian decides to take what’s his when production is wrapped.

Warnings : Dubcon, fingering, blow job, dominating,

Word count : 1.9k

“You’re staring again” he grinned at you, those ocean blue eyes eating you whole. Indeed you were. The vanity’s lights illuminated your soft features, your focused expression and most importantly your plump lips which made Cillian’s blood flow like a river.

“I have to stare” you sighed with a blank expression. Your snarky response made him pull a face and you could feel him tugging at the hem of your top, his fingertips slipping underneath to brush against your skin.

“Ouch” he murmured as you continued fanning the brush over his cheeks.

Sighing to yourself, you continued your work. The silence was poetic. Cillian loved just watching you do what you do most passionately. The way your eyebrows scrunched together, how you bit your lower lip and the slight squint of your eyes. Most importantly he loved how you were staring so intensely at him, your undefying attention was stuck on him.

Finishing with one last sigh, you dropped your materials on the desk behind him and took a step back to imply that you were done, your hip poking out to the side a little. Cillian sighed and grabbed onto your hands softly, pulling you back towards him.

“I can’t wait to take you out after production is wrapped” he admitted, a gleeful smile on his lips.

“You say that with so much confidence” you scoffed slightly, pulling your hands free of his grasp after one tug. Cillian pouted as you walked across the room and poured yourself a cup of water from the dispenser.

Context, he asked you out at every chance he got, and a few more times in between that. For some insane reason you declined every time he practically begged you to treat you like a goddess. It was still undecided, if you wanted to go out on a date or whatever it may be with him. Maybe it was the age difference, or maybe it was because you just felt too insecure that he’d let you go mid production. How could you face him after that?

But Cillian was a catch, a charming gentleman who’s succession went miles. He was kind, gentle, passionate, emotional and intelligent. Everyone on set would kill to have a shot with the Irish bachelor. Yet, he was determined to have you, and only you.

People would be able to mistake your cheeks to have red paint on them by the way you would blush crazily every time someone would comment on the way that he looked at you. All of the women were jealous of you, the small town girl that managed to whip an A-list actor with the grace of your smile. Little did they know you were whipped just as hard for the dreamy stag.

“Come here” Cillian whispered, curling his finger towards him to summon you. As you approached him, he pulled your forearms closer to him.

Almost naturally, you straddled him and he stroked your cheek as he hummed. Neither of you could resist having another sneaky made out session. It almost felt like destiny with how you two had an empty trailer together. Tugging on each other's hair and rocking your hips over his, your tongues were fighting for dominance. Cillian won, effortlessly. These risky moments were fun, but the finest moments were when you talked emotionally and intimately to one another, discovering each other’s souls, developing a strong spiritual relationship with one another.

Suddenly, there was a bang on the door and a production worker called Cillian to set. You pulled away from him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “You should go” you mumbled, brushing his hair back and wiping his lips with the back of your thumb.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that right?” Cillian chuckled as you slid off of him.

“Guilty” you smirked and opened the door before he could try to make another sneaky move on you. Cillian sighed heavily and stood up, he stood before the open door and looked you up and down slowly, his hand brushing yours that rested on the door before leaving without another word.

Then just like that, the production was wrapped. Your work with Cillian was done, but you were still trying to figure out if your little affair with him was over as well. Liking Cillian was an understatement, you were passionate about him but the ideas of the media as well as your personal relationships frightened you. You wished you could just run away together, be free from the world, have peace with him. But that would never be an option.

There was a celebratory party with the cast and other production workers. Cillian urged you to go with him, but you declined his offer multiple times. He even offered to skip the party and take you out instead. But you forced him to enjoy himself with his friends. The idea of being with him, intoxicated, intimidated you. What if he just took advantage of you and left you without another word. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Here you were instead, comfy on your couch with an empty bottle of wine and a second half full, as you watched your favorite sitcom. Your head rested on your propped arm on the couch’s arm.

You couldn’t help but to miss Cillian despite it only being a few days. The two of you were still messaging, but he has to get ready to move to a different production set. You missed the way he’d admire you, that thick enchanting Irish accent of his, looking into his mesmerizing blue eyes. Perhaps you did want to give it a shot, give him a shot, even though you weren’t exactly sure what he wanted to offer you. But hey, when else will you get an opportunity like this?

Occasionally you’d look down to your phone and read the messages Cillian was constantly sending. About how boring it was and how he just wanted to be with you. The wine made you feel a bit cheeky.

You just want to fuck me.

The seen mark appeared immediately. But the typing box didn’t appear, you watched the screen until it turned dark. You couldn’t help but to feel anxious, and a bit hurt over being left on read. Tempted to message him again, you chose not to and turned off your phone, trying to focus on the show instead.

Almost an hour later, you were dozing off to sleep when there was a knock on the front door. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over to the door, who was here at this hour? But then your heart raced with excitement and suspense that it could be him.

You got up, brushed your hair back and waddled over to the door. Opening it slowly, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Hi” Cillian whispered, gently swaying by the door, he leaned against the frame as he smirked to you.

“Cillian” you gasped lightly, looking him up and down. He did look charming, the way his trousers snatched his waist and how his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you” he confessed, looking at your body slowly down.

“Cillian” you repeat yourself, in a warning tone this time as he stepped inside your flat. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“I have my ways” he shrugged his shoulders, his hands caressing your hips, a gentle moan escaping his lips.

“You’re drunk” you said sternly, but he didn’t care.

“So are you” he countered, his eyes quickly darting over to the bottles of wine on the coffee table.

Exhaling, you took a few steps back but Cillian took as many forward twice as quick. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall with Cillian breathing by your ear. The scent of Guinness heavy on his breath as his hands slowly but firmly run up and down your torso.

“Cillian” you whispered, slowly looking up to him.

“I like the way you say my name, but I think I’d like the way you scream it more” he groaned, a wide grin on his lips.

The passion sparked off each other as you crashed your lips together. His cold hands excited your nerves as he ran them up and down your skin underneath your top. Lightly moaning into his mouth, Cillian’s groin pressed against your abdomen, slowly humping against you. His erection was tenting in his jeans already. His hands grabbed the sides of your face as he began rubbing his groin against yours. You moaned out, eyes slowly rolling back.

“Get on your knees, love” his tone was quiet yet stern.

You fell to your knees quicker than you thought you would. Naturally, you obeyed your sexual desires and ran your palms down his crotch. He gave a gentle nod of approval as you unbuckled his belt. Assisting you to tug his jeans down enough to free his member, you gulped at his size. The room was dimmed but you could feel the veins that wrapped up his length.

“Come on, be a good girl” he encouraged you, stroking your cheeks.

Doing as he said, your lips wrapped around his size. A slow hiss echoed through the hallway as you took him inside your mouth, more and more. With your tongue wagging around underneath his cock, his hands slipped into your hair, guiding you to go at a quicker pace. You opened your eyes and he was staring right at you, his mouth ajar open as his fingers gently massaged your scalp.

“That’s right, taking my cock like a good little whore” he spoke in a slow low tone.

His words shocked you. You would have never guessed him to say such a vulgar thing so openly. Your eyes widened with uneasiness as he patted your cheek. Attempted you pulled your head back, you were stopped by his hands, holding you in place with a wicked grin on his lips.

“Always getting me all hot and bothered right before shooting. Such a fucking minx, torturing my fucking cock” Cillian growled, picking up the pace so his cock was hitting the back of your throat. It was impossible not to gag on his size, your jaw beginning to act at his thrusts.

“Almost there” Cillian mumbled. Shortly after that, he fulfilled his promise and shot his ropes of white right down your throat. You didn’t like semen, it tasted foul, so you whined at the taste as he held your head down on his size until you struggled to swallow it all.

Cillian pulled you back up and pinned you against the wall once more. A harsh kiss was planted onto your lips. “I won’t fuck you, not yet. I’m a gentleman, I want to make it romantic for you. But I do need to feel you, right now” he hissed, his hand slipping into your bottoms.

The sudden touch to your clit shocked your nerves and you moaned. There was this animalistic sound that came from him as he felt how soaked your cunt was. Easily, his digits slipped deep into your canal.

“Cillian” you moaned out his name over and over again.

“You like my fingers eh?” Cillian smirked, his thumb circling over your clit.

Biting the inside of your lower lip, you were trying hard not to come undone right there and then. But the both of you knew how quickly he was pushing you over the edge. Sucking onto the side of your neck, your thighs squeezed his hand as you screamed out his name. Your orgasm was a tsunami, you struggled to stand straight, but Cillian made sure to hold you up.

With a huff, Cillian slipped out his wet hand and grabbed onto your cheek with the same hand, making you look at him.

“You’re mine alright? No more silly games, no more teasing, no more denying me. You’re going to submit to me, you got it?” Cillian ordered.

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.

"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."

"We'll see."

You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.

Pretty?

Do you really think he looks pretty? 

-

Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 

At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 

"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 

"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."

"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 

"Anything I want?"

"Anything!" 

You. 

That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 

“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 

The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 

“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 

Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 

It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 

Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 

“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 

"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 

With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 

“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 

"What the fuck man!" 

"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.

He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.

As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.

"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 

You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 

"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 

You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 

Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 

-

It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 

“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 

“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 

“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”

No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 

“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 

He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 

For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving

[ggidolsmuts]

What Would Zeus Do (WWZD) - ARTMS

A/N: So I wrote this on a whim, kinda wanted to do another Stud(y)ing story for the start of the year, just so you know what to expect. I couldn't help but keep thinking about the whole Artemis and Zeus thing, it fit too well, and WWZD is too funny in my head. The Seasons Greetings images coming out was very fortunate timing, It also fits in the I Never Die, I Only Breed theme, consider this as "DLC" for that game.

You wake up in a room—there is a door, there is a mirror, you're in the bed. Wait, you finished the game, didn't you? You wake up and go to the mirror, only to see the words "NEW DLC" pop up. Best of all, it's free! You accept the DLC and it loads immediately, and everything changes.

You're in a room, except there is no floor, no walls, only clouds all around you. You can walk on air? You look around, only to see a much more gaudy and decadent bed, not unlike Minnie's throne bed from before, and a bejeweled mirror, encrusted with diamonds and sapphires and emeralds. It even has a name—Erised. On intuition you stand in front of the mirror, and golden words float to the surface.

Thank you for playing the game, and as our thanks, please enjoy this sandbox DLC. You play as Zeus, everything is in your godly power. Go forth and procreate!

There is a list of names, but not any of the common names you recognize in Greek mythology. It just says:

*Joseon Goddesses*

Jinsoul

Haseul

Kim Lip

Heejin

Choerry

Some odd names to be sure, you were expecting something closer to Hera or Aphrodite, but Zeus doesn't discriminate, and neither will you. You tap on the first name, and the Mirror of Erised becomes a door. You step through to find the first goddess.

"Hello, you must be Zeus?"

"Yes, you are Jinsoul?"

"Yes, shall we?" She unclasps her dress, and it falls off her body, revealing her divine figure.

"Yes, we shall." She removes your toga, and your chiseled body presses against her suppleness. You lean in and suckle on her bosom, and she cups herself, offering more of her teat to you. You tilt her backwards, and as you do clouds form behind Jinsoul, cushioning the tilt. You split her open, and the gorgeous goddess gasps and grinds, a leg hooked around your hip.

"Yes, lord yes!" Her black hair splayed against the clouds, you take her repeatedly, bringing her to climax as she shuts her eyes tightly. She walls grip you even tighter, and with a grunt you unload inside of her. You pull out, still hard of course, but you assume your job is done until she sighs and half puts on her dress again.

"That's it? I didn't know Zeus was wont to leave a lady unbred."

"What? Of course not, you will be with child."

"Oh no, I know my own body the best. And I'm only fertile, godfucked or not, when it's raining." Your seed still no doubt trailing down her thighs Jinsoul walks towards you, expectant, expecting to be expecting soon.

"You were waiting to tell me that weren't you? So you could have more than one round with me?"

"What's the harm in that, we both know how this ends." The edge of her lip curls up as you summon some heavier clouds.

"What would you prefer, a summer shower, a gloomy thunderstorm, or a misty monsoon?"

"I think a summer shower would be nice." With a wave of your hand the sun comes back into view, an appropriate amount of rainfall splattering both of you. The dress starts to cling to her, seeming to enhance her curves even more, arguably even more enticing than seeing her naked. Her nipples seem to stiffen as her dress gets more and more translucent. You grab the top of her dress and pull, ripping and peeling the front off like wet paper. She might have been outraged at the dress' distruction, but you don't give her a chance to complain.

"Shall we?" Jinsoul merely has time to nod as you thrust yourself into her once more. She is much more expressive and sensitive to your movements this time, her walls velvet and creamy, primed for fertility. Jinsoul sings in the rain, moaning melodically and huskily while you drive yourself ever deeper. Shreds of her dress start falling off, and Jinsoul gradually loses the shreds of coherence she had left.

"Oh yes! That's it, give it to me, I'm yours, I'm yours!" Every pump of your hips pushes Jinsoul to a tingling, toe-curling, throat-wrenching orgasm, the rainfall acting as an aphrodisiac for her. The cloud she's lying on has reclined, and now you're pounding her from above, like mere mortals mating. But the two of you are gods and goddesses, and each clash of your hips is as loud as a thunderclap, and every orgasm she reaches as thrilling and electric as lightning. The two of you go from singing to fucking to breeding in the rain. Every time Jinsoul peaks her walls grasps you heavenly, a soft velvet tug on your shaft—you respond in kind, with a warm surge of seed. Despite the warm shower overhead, your coupling is more akin to a hurricane—wild, wet, and destructive. With limitless stamina and inhuman abundance, you pump her with a womb's worth of cum every thrust, but with the high speed of fucking, with the rapid push and pull of your hips, all it does is leave your connection a complete mess of cum and juice, pooling between her legs, smearing it all over her now-creamy thighs.

"Bred?" Jinsoul can only nod, breathless, vocal cords rough and strained, the skin around her hips now pink and red from your fucking. By the time you pull out, there is more of your cum outside of her than inside, yet not once did you finish outside of her heaven-sent chambers. She barely notices you pulling out, that's how full she is with your seed. Thick white fluid continues to spill from between her lips, it is a wonder how she could hold that much, or how you could put that much into her.

"I will be with your child now, so you'll be my consort right?"

"You know that's not how Zeus works."

"Really? Aww, not even for your goddess Jinsoulie?" You wince at the sudden cuteness, not used to goddesses behaving like that, but you agree.

"Fine, I will be back."

You go down the list, stepping immediately into Haseul's domain.

"Hello Haseul." The goddess that greets you is more dimunitive in size, but curvier, her hips ripe for childbearing.

"Hello." She agrees with your silent assessment, removing her tight dress and moving towards you. "May I taste?" This time it is your turn to be taken at speed as her mouth engulfs your length, perfectly sized to hit the back of her throat.

"Mmm Jinsoul, delicious." Haseul murmurs, guiding you to a seated position before diving back in.

"You know the taste of another goddess?"

"We make do when someone such as yourself is not available."

"That is something I should, nngh, be sure to remedy," you groan as she licks all along your shaft, replacing Jinsoul's slick with her saliva. She uses her hands to stroke you, yet you do not give her what she wants.

"Will you not give me your seed?"

"It is not meant to travel this path."

"Yet I wish to go the path untraveled."

"It will require more work."

"I understand," Haseul pushes her breasts together, and with her soft globes around your cock and a warm mouth around your head, you allow yourself to be milked, fucking her tits and mouth simultaneously.

"Does this— Ah! Please you?" You catch her by surprise as she briefly stops to ask a question, and you splatter her face with a load.

"Now it does." Haseul smiles and gets back to work, and just as with Jinsoul, you allow yourself to cum freely, slowly filling her tummy with an unstopping stream of seed—milk from the work of her breasts. When she is finished getting a fill of you, Haseul has a cumbaby in her tummy, and she is ready and eager for a real baby.

"I am ready."

"Good, I am still ready." Haseul gets up and straddles you, and with a loud moan she sinks on your cock, only to stop two-thirds of the way in—how did she manage to fit you in her mouth?

"Y-You are huge!" she whines, trying, and failing to fit more of you into her.

"Your lower mouth is not as practiced as your upper one, I will help you." You grab Haseul by the waist and start moving her up and down your cock. She bites her lower lip and hisses in discomforting pleasure as you manipulate her on your shaft, and with a few kisses and some slower fucking, she relaxes and begins to enjoy the sheer stretch of her body around you. "There you go, feel good?"

"Yeah, yes, much better."

"It'll feel even better when you open up. Now cum for me Haseul." With your firm finger on her clit she cums willingly, and through the process of her walls undulating around you, you're able to push just that little deeper into her. And then you ask her to cum again, and again she does—each time she does so you get deeper into her, and each orgasm in turn becomes even stronger than the last, her pussy clenching around more and more of your cock.

"It keeps feeling even better! Ah! It feels amazing, like—oh my god, something's coming, something's coming!" Haseul squirms on top of you, the feeling in her abdomen growing to the boiling—no, exploding—point.

"Just let go." With one arm wrapped around her slim midriff you pull her down sharply, and with the other you apply a little pressure on her clit. Haseul jerks, screams, and then gushes all over your cock. Her slick splashes up your body, and mid-orgasm you're able to draw Haseul even further down on you, your head nudging the entrance to her womb. You watch her eyes roll, and her head lolls back as she succumbs to a double orgasm, spraying your stomach with even more juice and creaming over your shaft. She goes limp almost falling off your shaft, and you have to support her, holding her close as she shudders and comes back from her higher plane of pleasure.

"Y-You didn't, you haven't?" Haseul gasps, unable to piece together a coherent sentence quite yet.

"Not yet, I wanted to make sure you feel it." When you feel her fingers grip the back of your neck more firmly you begin pulling her up and down your cock, making Haseul the Goddess of Cocksleeves as you sheath yourself fully inside her each time. "You feel that?" you ask, grinding your head against her cervix and making her whine at the friction. "That feeling means you've taken me fully."

"It's hitting me really deep, it feels so different, but good?"

"I'm glad it does, we should celebrate your accomplishment." Haseul crosses her feet behind your back, and together the two of you saw her tight body up and down your shaft. Tugging on your neck, Haseul leans back, tensing her core, giving both of you a perfect view of her body rocking back and forth. "Look down, you look beautiful like this."

Haseul opens her eyes dreamily (When did she even close them? She no longer remembers and it doesn't matter), and what she sees almost drives her to an orgasm immediately—there's a visible imprint between her legs, changing in size as you continue to bring her down on you. She can see exactly where her pussy ends, the round end of your shaft bulging deep inside her, followed by that tingling sensation that makes her gasp and moan. Seeing herself get fucked in such a visceral fashion spikes her arousal, and she tightens around you.

"Finish in me!" Haseul pleads, her eyes trained at your connection, watching herself get literally stretched each time you shove yourself in her. "I want to see you cum, I want to watch you breed me!" She watches her mound bulge once more, and this time it doesn't go away as you hold her down and explode. Haseul watches herself get bred for a brief second, before the warm explosion inside makes her eyes roll into her head again. She whimpers and tightens around you in her own orgasm, and the two of you ride out your peaks as she accepts all of your load into her fertile body.

When she opens her eyes again the bulge has disappeared, a sense of emptiness between her legs as you gently pull her off you. It would become a hunger newly awakened, and Haseul is at your side even as you seek to move on.

"You'll be back, yes?"

"Of course. I would just like to meet the other goddesses first."

"Kim Lip?"

"Yes, that is me." A pale-skinned goddess awaits you, her hair similarly light-colored, unlike the goddesses before her. Yet it seems to shimmer, almost fluid in nature. She seemed delicate, yet as you wrapped an arm around her, playing with the strap of her dress, you could feel the strength and steel within her.

"May I have you?" you ask. She was a goddess to be charmed, not taken.

"Oh? You're not going to grab me and bounce me all over your lap, like you did with Haseul?"

"Only if you want me to."

"I do not."

"So I figured," you murmur into her ear, hoping to get her a little hot and bothered. "I ask again, may I have you?"

"Maybe, but now's not a good time of the month for me."

"Oh, are you on your—" Kim Lip tisks you and pushes your head with a finger.

"No silly, I'm a goddess, not mortal. Jinsoul is one of my sisters, we can be a bit... odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes. Her desires and fertility spike only when it rains. I am not dissimilar."

"I made it rain for her, I can command whatever weather you wish."

"Ah, I am not that straightforward. My desires wax and wane, much like the moon, so come back and ask me that when the moon phases are most favorable."

"You will have me move the moon and the stars for you?" Kim Lip laughs airily, the childish giggle almost ill-fitting her beauty.

"Oh I doubt you capable of that, I will have you wait for the stars to align."

"I am impatient." You raise a hand to the heavens, and with some focus, you alter the orbit of the moon. It has a tangible effect on Kim Lip, a light pink hue spreading across her face. Her hair turns even lighter, as if reflecting the brightness of the moon.

"W-What did you do?" she stammers, feeling the heat go through her body as the full moon bares itself in the night sky.

"I am impatient and I am capable, so I have moved the moon and the stars for you." You push the straps off her shoulders, and Kim Lip doesn't resist you as the dress slips to her waist. The flush spreads to the rest of her chest, tipped pink on her breasts. "I wish to have you."

"You are reckless, moving the moon like that will have consequences! The tides, they will shift, the mortals—"

"I care not for mortals, I want you." You capture her lips in a kiss, one that's not urgent, but just fervent enough to leave her wanting. Your hands explore her body, touching what you could of her. She grabs your arm, but doesn't stop you, merely holding you within reach.

"Make it a new moon, and you will have me."

"So be it." You raise a hand to the moon once more, and you watch it pass through the phases quickly before going dark, invisble in the night sky. When you look down at Kim Lip again, her hair has turned jet black, and her eyes are dark with need. The pink flush on her pale complexion has turned a darker crimson, and her lips are ruby red—this time she leans towards you, capturing your lips in her kiss.

"I'm yours."

You rip her dress off, and immediately she has a leg hooked around your hip. Her slick comes in waves as you rub your shaft againt her core, teasing her just that little bit more. You want Kim Lip to want it, and you are delighted when she reaches down between your bodies, pushing your shaft to oh-so-satisfyingly enter her on the next rock of your hips. You pause briefly as her eyes screw shut, but they quickly open again, her pupils dark as the new moon.

"Keep going, don't stop." You fuck her thoroughly—a needy Kim Lip is an ambitious lover, and her positions shift just as the tides do. One moment you are humping into her with short thrusts, the next she has you on your back, bouncing on your lap as she desires, your hands merely holding her thighs for support. Then she has you top her, her leg on your shoulder as you make her do a split, even as you split her open. Just as with Jinsoul you are cumming freely with Kim Lip, the two of you extracting pleasure from one another, her body readily accepting your load, only to have it spill out of her with a change in position.

"Am I fit to bear your offspring?" she asks, almost challenging you as you pound down into her.

"That was never in question." 

"Then take me under an eclipse, when the light and dark intermix, just as we do now, that will be most desirable." 

"You ask a lot of me," you grunt as Kim Lip pushes herself into a sitting position, staring down at you like the moon shines over Earth. 

"And I'll give a lot more to you." Looking past her at the moon, you try to ignore her wet sheath around you as you move sun and moon for her, and for a moment the galaxy revolves around Earth as you align everything for her. Kim Lip looks up at the resulting eclipse, and when she turns to look at you again she is glowing, her hair now a dark brown, mixed with streaks of light.

"It is beautiful, thank you."

"No more than you are."

"I want to see it as we continue." Kim Lip gets off you, going on all fours. Her intent clear, you take her from behind, pulling on her long hair so that her head tilts to the heavens. "Yes, just like that! Keep going like that!" Waves of force ripple from her thighs as you slam your hips into hers—no doubt you have wrecked the world with your callous movement of the universe, but all you care about right now is wrecking Kim Lip's world. Her body twitches as she cums, and the eclipse goes blurry when the pleasure becomes too great, when a small supernova bursts forth in her womb, breeding new life inside of her.

"You may also look at it like this." You release her hair and grab her arms, using them as reins as you continue to pound her from behind, leaving another splatter of seed in her.

"I am sore," she gasps, so you accomodate her wishes and lie on your back, pulling her on top of you. You thrust up into her from below, her breasts rocking in the eclipse's moonlight and her thighs glistening from the same light source. It is a lewd position, but just as the werewolf turns beastial under the moon, Kim Lip's cries become more ungodly beneath the celestial phenonmenon. She turns away from the eclipse to find her new obsession, her new object of desire—you.

"It's so good like this, never stop, never stop!" Her voice cracks as you burst in her once more. "Yes, breed me, breed me every cycle, I'll bear all your little offspring!" With triggered instincts you roll out from under Kim Lip, only to take her from above, to hug her and pound down into her the way she desires.

Kim Lip's glassy eyes continue to look up at the eclipse, her ears fed a constant stream of your whispers, happy ones of the offspring she will bear, filthy ones of how else you would take her, interjected with spikes of orgasmic ecstasy, of your seed filling her womb over and over. With one last sharp thrust you break the hug, eclipsing the eclipse, leaning down to kiss her passionately as you claim her one last time. Kim Lip trembles as her orgasm washes over her like a huge tide, your thick seed surging into her with finality.

There is a calm after the storm as she cuddles against you, stroking your chest like a satiated lover.

"You have to go to the other goddesses?" she asks, notable disappointment in her voice.

"Yes, but I will be back."

"Look up at the night sky, and remember to think of me."

"Of course."

You move on to the next goddess, and time seems to reverse when you see Heejin.

"You are dressed oddly, Heejin, I assume?" She's dressed in a very distinct fashion, her garment different from what you saw earlier.

"네, 전 희진인데? 넌 제우스이지?"

You don't understand her question, so you merely nod.

"나랑 교배하로 왔구나!"

You still don't understand her, but it probably didn't matter as she proceeds to discard her clothing before getting on all fours, much like Kim Lip did.

"아까 봤어, 난 이자세가 좋아!" She smacks her own butt for emphasis. It is all a bit weird, and you're wrongfooted by not understanding her at all, but you do as she desires and take her from behind. You thrust into her wildly, but it seems to have little effect on her, and she merely stays in place, accepting your thrusts with no reaction. Before long you cum inside her, but all that does is to worsen her mood, and she turns to glare at you.

"아씨, 이런 줄알고,리듬있게해!"

"Algorithm? What are you saying, I don't understand you at all." Heejin blinks rapidly before continuing.

"Oh, you don't speak my language?"

"I do not."

"My apologies, I was saying, you should do it with rhythm. I did not feel anything because there was nothing to build on." You still yourself and follow her instruction, pushing into her with a leisurely tempo, but Heejin is not satisfied.

"No! You're half a second off between thrusts!"

"What is this, a video game? You need me to be that precise? Why don't you show me how you want it then!"

Annoyed as you were, it wasn't a bad deal, and you get to watch Heejin's fine legs, hips, and ass push back on to you.

"You see? Like this! 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3!" You keep her count in your head, and soon you are able to match Heejin's movements, thrusting forward as she pushes herself back on to you. Soon she's softly moaning, and you have to resist the urge to go faster while she gets wetter and easier to penetrate.

"Can I go faster?"

"What why? This is good for me!" She punctuates this with a louder moan, and one of her legs kick up and shake as she cums without warning. "See?"

"But it doesn't do anything for me."

"That's not my problem, you're the one that came to me. So I set the terms, and I'm not letting you go now." Turns out, Heejin has just as much strength as Kim Lip, and she easily seats herself above you. "Let me have my fun first, and then you can go ahead and breed me, okay?"

Well, at least I don't have to move planets for her, you think to yourself, and you shrug and nod. Heejin begins to rock herself back and forth on your cock—she is tight and wet and pleasurable, but the speed she moves at does absolutely nothing for you. Everything about her helps visually—Heejin running her hands through her hair as she smiles and cums on top of you; Heejin grabbing her own tits, squeezing them hard when she cums on you again; Heejin biting her lower lip and winking at you when she cums a third time; but the lack of speed just means that Heejin leaves you with the bluest case of blue balls a god has ever experienced. She's not even edging you—you'd have to get close to orgasm for her to be edging you.

"Damnit Heejin, let me take my pleasure!"

"Just a couple more." She spreads her legs, rubbing her clit brazenly for you as she gets herself off. And just when you thought she is done Heejin turns around to ride you in reverse now, and all you can see is her back muscles twitching and feeling her pussy grip you when she cums. The only reason you're not going soft is because you're too hard to go soft right now, your balls feeling like the planets you just moved for Kim Lip. You grunt when Heejin falls back against you, and thankfully she whispers tiredly in your ear. 

"Okay, I had my fun, you can have yours now."

"Yeah? I can go fast, without rhythm?"

"Yes I'm— ah!" Heejin moans when you push up into her to test the waters. "I'm sensitive enough that I'll have fun too, just treat that as me warming up."

"That was warmup? All of that?"

"Would you rather I fake my orgasm while you just hammer away at me?"

"And here I thought Jinsoul and Kim Lip were the odd ones..." Heejin giggles as she gets off you, allowing you to direct her back on to all fours.

"They are, I'm just the weird one, and the stubborn one. You may be a god, but I'm the goddess, so if you want me, you do things my way or not at all. And you did do things my way, so now you get to get your way too." She wiggles her hips at you, two manicured fingers spreading open her lips.

"Come on then, daddy." A deep moan rumbles through her when you push in, and you finally get to fuck Heejin the way you want.

"Oh yes, pump away with no rhythm, you could never play OSU, or Superstar Loona as well as I can with rhythm like that! But it's okay, you'll be daddy for me right? Or since you're a god, does that make you god-daddy?"

"I kept quiet while you had your fun, you should shut up while I take mine." You put a hand around Heejin's throat, firmly choking the quips out of her. That seems to only help her along though, as her pussy contracts around you with the same rhythm that you choke her with, the petulant goddess seizing up in pleasure. You smash yourself into her repeatedly without a care, and you let yourself go in short order.

There is no Noah in Heejin's body, but even if there was, no ark would have saved her eggs from your thick cum flooding her womb, entering her in a flood of epic proportions, your wrath unleashed ecstatically into her fertile chalice. You grab her hair and tug at her scalp, and a low rasp escapes her as Heejin takes her final breath for a while. Another thrust into her, and you dunk her head down into the clouds, muffling her cry while you let another wave of cum rip through her.

And another, and another. You take your pleasure just like Heejin took hers. By the end of it she is sprawled on her back, coughing and hacking while you pull out and feed the last of your load down her throat. She leaks cum from both holes, properly disciplined and bred.

"Ack, ugh, come back, I'm not done with you yet!" Heejin shouts hoarsely as you walk away.

"Later, keep yourself entertained!" Heejin wipes your load off her face, only to put her cum-covered fingers back between her legs. Her sense of rhythm is completely wrecked as she cums easily from a few pumps of her own hand—she would be easily entertained until you come back.

"Hey!" You're immediately tackled by the next goddess as she swings her arms around your neck. "Hi hi hi!"

"Choerry?"

"Yes, hiiiii!" She smiles brightly at you. "Are you here to have fun?" Choerry sits in your lap, and she's kissing you eagerly, full of enthusiasm. You respond to the kiss, running a hand up her thighs. She hits your hand, bursting into giggles. "Omo, what are you here to do hmm?"

"I am... here to, you know, mmph—" Choerry hushes you with a hand to your mouth.

"If you want to do that, you'll have to do what I say, okay? Don't worry, I won't be like Heejin, leaving you to explode! You'll get to have fun too." So she's not as innocent as she seems to be.

"Sure, I'll play along."

"Good. Now, answer me this one question. Am I sexy?" She pouts and puts a finger to her lips, a cute expression on her face. You sense that it is a rhetorical question.

"You are."

"Who is?" She slips the cardigan off her shoulders.

"Choerry is."

"She is what?" Woops, her finger just slid a strap off her dress.

"Sexy."

"Good, now put it all together." She twirls the remaining strap around her finger.

"Choerry is sexy." The strap comes off, but she has an arm across her top, keeping you at bay even as your hands run along her shoulders and neck.

"Where am I sexy?"

"Everywhere." You pull her arm away, and the dress slides down partially, revealing her chest to you. Before you can dive in she places a hand on your forehead, pushing you back.

"Ah ah ah, you've only earned this peek."

"You said you wouldn't be like Heejin," you whine, almost as childish as the game Choerry's playing.

"I want you to be more exact, what part of me is sexy?" She puckers her lips, blowing a kiss at you.

"Your lips?"

"Omo really? I never thought you would say that!"

"What—" With a silky move Choerry gets off your lap and positions herself at hip-level to you.

"You should fuck it then, show me that you really do find it sexy." She helps you get over the surprise request, pushing her mouth over your cock. Choerry is true to her word, and quickly you blow a load down her throat, and she makes sure to pull out mid-spurt, ensuring that her lips have some of your frosting on them.

"Your face is sexy too."

"Really? Aww you're too kind!" She sucks you off again, this time making sure that you're aimed all over her pretty and sexy features. When you're done she quickly wipes the cum off her face before getting back in your lap, this time deliberately letting her dress hang off her waist.

"Where else do you find me sexy?"

"Your chest is sexy too."

"Really? Would you like me to squeeze them together like this?" She pushes them together, purposely and naughtily making an up and down motion with them—Choerry is anything but innocent.

"Mmhmm, yes, very sexy Choerry." She breaks out into a wide smile again and sinks back to her knees, this time trapping your shaft between her breasts. The soft squish and smooth skin of her moving globes are wonderful, and you cover her tits with cum as well.

"My hands are sexy too right?" You agree, and Choerry has the perfect lotion on her hands soon after, and she rubs it all along her arms. You are happy to play along with her as she pulls her dress up her legs.

"What about my feet?"

"They're pretty."

"Are they sexy?" She cups them together, the space between her soles perfect for sliding something, or some cock, through it.

"I suppose so." Choerry leans back and begins stroking your cock with her foot, and between her legs you can see her want glistening and shining through—you're going to have lots of fun with her. After covering her feet with more lotion, you comment on her thighs, and all pretense goes out the window. Choerry finally slides her dress off, showing off her creamy thighs and curvy hips as she clambers on top of you. Much like before she squeezes your cock between her thighs, and with a nod from her she allows you to start thrusting. You confirm just how wet she is as your shaft slides right against her lips, her slick coating your cock and making a mess of her thighs.

"You love this don't you?" you ask Choerry, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted, much like her lower lips below.

"I love it, I love feeling sexy. Make me feel sexier than Jinsoul and Kim Lip and I'm yours." She is equally as odd as her sisters, her eyes open once more, smiling brightly even as her darker desires are stoked and burning and dripping all over you—the goddess is innocently seductive. You grope her ass, squeezing a cheek and a giggle from Choerry. Her thighs close more around you, her legs twisting to give your cock maximum friction. She begs you to tell her more about how sexy she is, and you oblige her.

"So seductive Choerry, by now I would have plowed any of the other goddesses but I'm letting you make me wait. I can feel how wet you are, it makes you even sexier." You keep a tight grip on her ass, continuing to thrust up between her thighs. She whispers for more, and you give her more thrusts and more dirty whispers. "Everything about you is sexy, both outside and inside."

"You haven't mmm... you don't know about inside yet."

"I have no doubt you will be. I bet you're sexy when you cum too right? Cum for me Choerry!" Between the rubbing of your shaft against her and your filthy praise Choerry nips your neck to muffle a loud cry as she cums on your command, coating your shaft with even more slick. You grunt into her neck and join her in climax, spewing your load all over the insides and back of her thighs.

"That was great! Am I sexy elsewhere too?" Ever energetic, Choerry is eager to keep going.

"I heard your back is sexy too." She scrambles to get on all fours, and sexily she draws her hair over one shoulder, revealing her flawless back to you. "Perfect, your butt looks so sexy too." You rest your cock between her cheeks.

"You can do my ass, do it like you did my thighs." She squishes and spreads her cheeks, enticing you to do just that. Your hardness rubs against her rosebud as you start hot dogging Choerry while she touches herself. When she cums and some of her slick splashes on your balls, you grunt and splatter her back with your own thick slick, making sure to spread some of it over her butt.

"Now are you convinced you're sexy?" you ask—by now you've covered pretty much every surface of Choerry you can get at.

"Only on the outside," she teases, sitting in your lap. "What about inside, people talk about inner beauty, but what about inner sexy?"

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do." You line yourself up for Choerry, and she does the rest, letting out a decadent "Ah..." as she sinks on to you. It is a snug fit, and you get to enjoy Choerry's little gasps of joy and discovery while she squirms and grinds on top of you, just to get you in a little deeper.

"Mmm..." A much sexier moan escapes her when your tip nudges against her cervix, and the fit goes from snug to perfect. "Is the inside of me sexy?"

"It's perfect, you feel so good around me."

"Mm mm," Choerry shakes her head. "Say it's sexy."

You wrap an arm around her midriff, applying a gentle rocking motion to get her to move more, to start fucking herself on you as you feed her filthy little nothings.

"Your insides feel so sexy, like I'm going to melt in you. I don't want to pull out ever, and I won't, because your womb?" You jerk up a little, making sure she feels you pushing against it. "It's so sexy too, I'm going to pump everything into you."

"Tell me more, more more more! I want to hear many more people say it!"

"Sexy Choerry!" "Choerry you're so sexy!" "You're the sexiest goddess!" Choerry looks around, and she sees copies of you, all saying the same things. You can sense the smile in the kiss she gives you.

"You're the best!"

"And you're the sexiest." She's even wetter now, slick flowing down her thighs as she gets even more excited by the praises coming from your copies.

"Are they real copies?"

"No, they're copies, but not real."

"But are they touchable?" The dark lust springs once more from her eyes as Choerry gets to the point. "Can they fuck me?" 

You beckon one over, and Choerry pushes you down before hugging you tightly.

"Have him fuck my ass. It's all his, or well, yours!" You instantly feel a different type of pressure as the copy positions itself behind Choerry, and the nubile goddess is still as she feels the exact same cock in her pussy open up her ass. The two of you do your best to take her together, but it is difficult in the position, and you can't really do much but wiggle and grind your hips below Choerry.

"Ah, I feel so full... so sexy!" she moans, the pressure in her butt never going away as the copy thrusts slowly in and out of her.

"You are sexy, taking two of me at once? Amazing. But I want you to feel better." You stop things briefly to stand up, and in short order Choerry has her arms around your neck, her legs around your hips, and her butt in your hands as she is sandwiched nicely between you and your copy. 

"Gyaahhh!" The new position allows gravity to help Choerry get stuffed even better, and with one single mind at work the two of you bounce her stupid on top of both cocks, always making sure that she feels sexy by having one shaft push in as the other one pulls out.

"Ohmygod, it feels even better!" Her head rests against your copy's shoulder, and she makes out with it, giving you access to her neck and chest in return. You leave a few marks on her skin, something that the copies will never get to do, and with your godly branding complete, you get back to the main task at hand. Choerry's divine figure is rattled back and forth between the two of you, each taking turns to pound her deeper onto the other cock.

"Guh fuck... I, I can't stop cumming..." She's clinging to your neck, drooling on your shoulder, spittle flying randomly with each hammer of Choerry's body against the anvils. All the while your other copies are still at work, the praises of Choerry still resonating in the air. "I-I want to feel them too, want them to make me feel sexy."

You have Choerry lie down on your copy, it's cock still buried in her ass. You take up residence in her heavenly chambers once more before the other three copies move over. Two of them take Choerry's hands and wrap them around their own cocks, and she begins stroking them mindlessly. The last copy kneels and pushes his shaft against her cherry red lips, and she obliges with her mouth. Choerry has never felt sexier in her life as she services all of "you" at once, dealing admirably with your cock in each of her holes, yet still managing to stroke the two in her hands.

"You look so sexy right now Choerry, if only the other goddesses could see you." Her mouth is too full to reply, but she clenches around you harder than before. "Would you like them to see us?"

"Mm! Mm!" She looks at you and nods, jerking the cock in her mouth as well.

"Choerry!" "Oh my god!" "What are you doing!" "Ahahaha!" Jinsoul, Haseul, Kim Lip, and Heejin appear, exclaiming at what they see before them. Choerry pops the shaft out of her mouth to address them.

"See! I am sexy, not cute! I—mmph!" Your copy takes Choerry's mouth back for their own use, and the other four goddesses are left incredibly aroused at the display in front of them. Choerry's body undulates in an erotic yet haphazard fashion, yourself and each copy manipulating a part of her for your own pleasure—you push her hips down with each thrust; your copy drives her hips up as it fucks up into her ass; the one at her mouth jerks her head, a hand in her hair rocking her back and forth; the other two drive her arms, helping her stroke them faster by thrusting into her hands. Faster and faster all of you work Choerry, and it all comes to a head at once.

"Mm! Gluk! Mmmf! Ngh mmmmmm! Pffhhhuck!" All of you plunge into Choerry with finality, and the instant explosion of cum inside and across her body makes her orgasm that much harder. Her legs jerk and thrash about, her toes curl, and she squirts against your abs even as her own chest is covered with two thick loads. When she goes limp, the goddesses watch you and your copies pull away, leaving Choerry leaking cum from all holes and dripping cum everywhere on her body.

"Put it back in, I want more, I want more... No, don't, mine!" You turn to see the goddess walk towards you, and each of them reaches for a you-copy. "Don't take..." Choerry pouts, but you pull her into your embrace, whispering in her ear.

"Let them go Choerry, you were so sexy, you made them all horny." Your point is illustrated from seeing the goddesses in different positions—Jinsoul has her legs wrapped around you, letting herself get carried and fucked; Haseul is on all fours, letting you mount her; Kim Lip has her back pressed against a cloud wall, letting you pound her into it; Heejin is on her side, one leg raised lewdly in the air while you fuck her sideways. 

"Really? It was because of me?"

"Mmhmm, we should enjoy the show, besides, I want you to myself." You sit up against a cloud wall of your own making, allowing Choerry to lean back and draw your arms around her. You rub her clit lazily while she strokes you, just watching the orgy unfold in front of you.

"Did I look like that earlier?" she wonders aloud, as she see Jinsoul's expression twist in pleasure; Haseul's head jerks back and she let's out a cry as she cums; Kim Lip's biting her lower lip, low groans and little whimpers escaping every time she is pounded—her hair changes shades erratically, like she's losing her mind; Heejin rhythm is similarly off, sometimes moving fast, sometimes undulating slow, but always cumming, always drooling, her thighs and your shaft are shining with slick.

"You looked even sexier than that. You made them like this." Choerry kisses your jaw, murmuring as she grabs your shaft, nudging you into her.

"Make me like that too, breed me again." You lean forward, pushing the both of you on all fours, the perfect position to both breed Choerry and watch the others get bred. Your hands are greedy, one groping her breasts, the other grabbing her hips, holding her stably as you hump into her. Choerry looks on, watching her fellow goddesses get plowed and mated, each utterly satisfied at the pleasure you were giving them. She feels your warm hand on her belly, and she grabs it with a free hand, squeezing you as she tightens her pussy—she wants your load badly.

Choerry's scream is deafening when she goes over the edge with you, the warmth filling her overwhelming and delicious. She collapses in the clouds, eyes drooping in tiredness, all she sees is white—the white of the clouds, and the rivers of potent seed flowing out of Jinsoul, Haseul, Kim Lip, and Heejin.

Your run complete, the copies disappear, and you rest next to Choerry, smiling. She smiles back, seeming to glow, like sunshine incarnate. She gets brighter and brighter, and It is all consuming, the goddesses disappearing from sight—you're not fading to black, you're ascending into radiance. The last thing you hear is Choerry's laugh.

Large black words are the only distraction from the overwhelming brightness.

Replay DLC?

A/N: I threw in lots of references to each member, tried to portray them with their own exaggerated personalities. The Heejin Korean part was purely to make an "Algorithm" reference, don't worry about understanding it. If you get confused about the ground and walls existing, don't think too hard about it, it's all "god stuff", the ground is there if you need it, the wall is there if you need it (all in the form of clouds), cum that's on Choerry's body magically disappears, no need for clean up.

This is me mostly just writing and not worrying about the details I didn't want to worry about, so it is definitely more to the point and "get to the scene I want to write about". Hope it reads fine, thanks for reading and Happy New Year!

[star-eyed-angels]

Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Being Stray kids' Stress Toy (MAKNAE LINE)

The times you become Skz'z personal stress toy

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: What?! two updates in one week?!? Who am I?? Sorry for this taking forever, I was STRUGGLING with Maknae line. Like I knew what I wanted to write but the words truly would not come no matter what I tried. But it’s here it’s done and I really hope you enjoy!!

AGAIN THIS IS VAGUELY EDITED SO PLEASE BE KIND🥹

Warnings: free use (literally all of them), sub/dom dynamics, subspace, nicknames, teasing, creampie, orgasm denial, voyeurism, overstimulation, cock-warming, biting, mirror sex, filming, bondage, blow jobs, thigh job, handjobs (It's 4am I'm so tired and definitely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)

Read at your own discretion

JISUNG

Han is another part of the insatiable line, another member who wouldn’t pass up on a chance to feel you wrapped around him. Jisung’s favorite thing is cockwarming. It’s like a game, he sits you pretty in his lap and neither of you gets to cum until he finishes his lyrics. To the others they think it’s torture, but to him it’s heaven, he gets to have you sit pretty on his cock and it forces him to finish his lyrics faster. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

He swears it’s only cockwarming, enough to help him focus on finishing his lyrics. 

“Come on baby, just until I finish this part! It’s the last one I’m working on,” he pleads, hands skimming along your sides while you stand between his legs.

Each time you roll your eyes, because as soon as he gets his dick anywhere near you all other thoughts go out the window. 

“You and I both know you won’t be able to wait that long,” you say for what feels like the millionth time. You think you’d know better than to trust his words by now. But with the way he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, how could you ever say no? 

You find yourself sinking onto him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the way his cock fills you. Jisung lets out a low moan as you settle yourself into his lap, his own eyes fluttering. You rest your head against his shoulder, arms loosely hanging around his neck. 

When you’re settled he’s quick to get to work, mumbling to himself as he peaks over your shoulder to write. You do your best not to think of the cock between your legs. But for as much as you tease Jisung for thinking with his dick, you’re no better. 

Thirty minutes pass before it starts to get to you. You can feel the subtle twitches his body gives whenever your breath tickles his neck. Jisung isn’t faring much better. You clench around him every so often. Your breath hitching with each subtle shift of his hips. Eventually you’re panting into his heck, hips subtly grinding into him. 

“Baby you’re making this harder for me,” he pants, hands resting on your hips to still you.

“Fuck the lyrics. Just fuck me already,” you beg pulling him into a rough kiss. He doesn’t hesitate, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he begins to rock into you like his life depends on it. The force of his thrusts jolt you against the desk, making you scramble to balance yourself before you slide off his lap. 

“Sungie be careful, you’re gonna break it again,” you say through dragged out moans. The computer chair squeaks in protest, springs undoubtedly being put to their limit. You can’t blame them, so are you. Your hands sit behind you to balance yourself against the desk, whining at the way Jisung drills his cock into you. 

“I’ll buy another one, I’ll buy as many as I need to keep fucking you like this,” he rushes out. His hold on you is firm as he fucks you in his lap. The way he’s gripping onto your sides, fingers digging into the flesh because he knows you’ll love the marks it leaves. He drags you over his cock again and again, using you as his personal fleshlight.

“Can’t get enough of this pussy shit, ride me baby, there you go. Fuck take it like it’s yours babe,” he moans out when you sit up suddenly, taking control of your movements. It’s like your body has a mind of its own, your hips slamming down onto him. 

Your thighs burn with every movement, but it feels far too good for you to care. Your hands rest behind his head, one hand gripping the back of his curly hair while your other steadies yourself on the back of his chair. 

“Ji- fuck! Baby please need it, needa cum!” you cry out, thankful for the fact that the entire studio is sound-proof.

“Yeah? I’ll make you cum baby. Come on, cum all over me so I can fill this fucking pussy,” He growls, hand reaching down to pinch at your clit. The feeling sends you head first into your orgasm. You fall against Jisung as you cum, still rocking yourself against him as you feel him shake through his own orgasm. He bites his lip as he cums, still managing to let a few swears slip through. He falls back in the chair as he comes down from his own high.

“Told you you wouldn’t last,” you pant against his shoulder. He huffs out a laugh, jostling you against his chest.

“Lasted longer than last time, that’s a win in my book baby,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You only roll your eyes.

FELIX

Lix who makes you insatiable. You’re not quite sure how he does it. But one look from him and you’re teary eyed as you cling to him, begging for him to stay in you. It always starts with a quick text, telling you to meet him wherever he needs. No one bats an eye when you waltz in during practice, lix beckoning you over with a crook of his fingers. When you reach him, he’s pulling you into his lap, your bottoms already tossed to the floor. You’re not surprised when no one reacts at Felix’s moans as he fills you up.

“Sorry angel, just need to cum in you okay?,” he pants, hips already rutting up into you. You can only offer him a small hum, brain going a little foggy with him inside you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, tucking your face into the side of his neck as you feel the pleasure overtake you. 

“Promise I’ll be quick, angel,” he says, though he knows he’s lying. The thing with Felix is he knows what having his cock does to you. He knows he makes you desperate, mindless even. And he lives for it. The way you turn into a bunny in heat, Hips working desperately against his, though he’s not sure you even realize that you’re moving. Not with the way you stare up at him with a dazed look in your eyes. He can see the way all the thoughts float out of your head, all thoughts except fucking him that is. Hiccuping whimpers accompanying the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Five minutes, Lix,” Minho calls out from the other side of the practice room. You whine at Minho’s words, clenching around Felix, hands clinging onto him impossibly tighter. 

“How do you expect me to not stay in her all day when she’s clenching like that,” he grunts, hands gripping at your soft sides. You keen, your hips dragging along his in teasing circles. 

“Lixie,” you bat your eyelashes at him, mouth in a small pout. 

“Want me to stay in our cunt all day, sweetheart?” He says, hips lifting to meet yours.

“Yes, please Lixie. Please I’ll be good,” you beg, eyes sparkling with tears. How could he not give in to your pleas when you look at him like that?

Felix flips you onto your back, a soft gasp escaping you as he presses your legs to your chest, exposing your fluttering walls to him and everyone else in the room. He knows they’re watching, they always do when they get the chance.

“Greedy fucking girl, you just love being used don’t you?” he rasps, slipping back into you with ease. Felix sets an unrelenting pace, somehow hitting deeper inside you with this angle. 

“Yes! Love it!,” you cry out, face contorting into a blissed out expression. Your hands scrabble to hold onto something, settling on his arms as he holds you in place.

He smirks, glancing up to watch the way the members watch the scene in front of them. He lives for the way the members' eyes darken when they watch you. You’re far too gone to notice the way the members are staring holes into you. 

“You’re so far gone angel, you don’t even care that everyone is watching you, hmm?” he teases, tilting your face to watch the members. You whine, walls fluttering at the dark stares they all give you.

“Only care about getting this pretty cunt stuffed, doesn’t even matter where, either does it?”Felix coos, turning your attention back to him. 

“No, just need to be full all the time,” you slur, mind growing foggier by the second. Felix takes notice, picking up his pace easily. 

“I know angel, promise we’ll keep you full. Why don’t you cum for me, hmm? Show them how pretty you look when you make a mess, yeah?” he says, hand reaching down to rub at your clit. The pleasure is heightened with how sensitive you are. It doesn’t take long before you’re sent straight off the edge. You cum with a broken cry, tensing in his hold. Felix lets out an appreciative moan, filling you up with his own cum. You’re still shaking as you cum down from your high, letting Felix dote over you as if he didn’t just give you an earth shattering orgasm.

SEUNGMIN

There’s only one way to describe Seungmin’s time with you: sweet torture. Seungmin’s a hard dom through and through. When he agreed to the arrangement of using you that when you’re with him it's all about him.

For instance the outfit you wear as you stroll into the company building. Skirt barely covering the tops of your thighs, top showing off your plush sides just enough for his hands to fit over them, even the platformed shoes he bought you as a gift just so you can be closer for him to leave marks against your shoulder.

Seungmin loves watching you walk into the practice room all dolled up for him. He’s quick to pull you over to him, hands grasping at anywhere he can get his hands on you. You’re just as desperate as you reach up, pressing yourself as close as you can get. 

It isn’t long before he has you writhing in his grasp. The songs he was memorizing are long forgotten as he presses against your backside. He makes you cross your legs over the other, hands braced against the piano as he uses just your thighs to get off.

“Minnie! You’re being mean!” you whine, still twisting your hips to have him slip inside you. 

He clicks his tongue, pinching your side as he angles your hips higher, his cock now deliberately hitting your clit with every stroke. You can only moan, face contorting at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through your core.

“No, you’re just being a greedy slut,” he grunts. Seungmin smirks, leaning down to drag his lips up to your ear.

“This isn’t about you. Let me have my fun and maybe I’ll be nice enough to cum in you, okay?” he says, hips continuing their unrelenting pace. 

You whine, hands twitching with the need to grip him, but the pleasure is already making it hard to keep yourself upright. You know the second you let go of the piano, your body will crumple to the floor. Instead you lean your body back into his chest, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra.

Seungmin isn’t handling this any better.  He’s thankful your back is facing him, that way he can hide the way his own face twists in pleasure. Seungmin’s mouth hangs open in a low moan, cock twitching at the feeling of your soft thighs hugging his cock. He can’t help but love the way you look falling apart in front of him. A stark contrast to how you pranced through the door, offering him a bright smile as if you didn’t know exactly where you’d end up. Clothes half pulled off, hands clutching at the top of the piano, no doubt ruining the sheet music he’d spent hours adding notes to. And it's all for him. All he has to do is send you a text, and you’re ready to be used by him. That thought alone is what pushes him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he mutters out, the only warning he can give you, unable to stop himself from cumming. You gasp at the feeling of warmth leaking against you, still partially delirious from the pleasure.

“Minnie!” you sob as you look down, watching his cum leak across your thighs, hitting the top of the piano. His hips still buck against you, hands keeping you firmly in place while he rides out his own high. 

“You said if I was good-” you cry, falling back against him again, core throbbing with the need to have him in you. 

“You were good, but I never said when I would cum in you pup,” he laughs against your neck. He finally pulls himself away from you, leaving you to balance on your legs that feel like they’ve turned to jello. You shiver glancing up at him with teary eyes as you struggle to regain your composure. He only grins at your pout, hand reaching up to smooth out your top.

“Maybe later. Now fix your clothes and let’s go.”

JEONGIN

Innie, you’ve come to find out over the past few months is quite literally insatiable.

Jeongin for the most part doesn’t call on you for stress relief, and when he does it’s usually quickies in the form of handjobs or using your mouth right before he leaves for a shoot. But the first time you joined them on tour was something you’ll never forget. It was the night after their third show and he’d texted you to come to his hotel room. You’d found him sitting on his bed, towel lazily wrapped around his hips as he palmed himself. 

“Come here. Need you, now.” he calls out, flicking the wet hair out of his eyes. The way his sharp gaze watches you leaves no room for arguing. You stand in between his legs, ready to drop to your knees when he tugs you to him, manhandling you underneath him. You let out a quiet gasp as you look up at him with wide eyes. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, 

“What is it? Didn’t think I could be like Channie or Minho Hyung, hmm? His voice tickles your ear. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, his grin widens in response. His next words send shivers down your spine. 

“Trust me baby, I’m a lot worse."

The room is filled with the sound of Jeongin’s hips meeting your ass, but to be quite honest you can’t hear much of what’s going on around you. With your face pressed into the sheets, the only sound you can really hear is your muffled cries as Jeongin uses you. The robe belt Jeongin had woven around your wrists and ankles digs into your skin from the hogtie position he keeps you in. Your arms are tied behind your back, fists clenched at the small of your back. Your legs tremble with the need to close them, instead they’re forced to stay spread and bent at the knee. Your muscles ache from how long you’ve been held like this. 

You know you’ll be sore and bruised tomorrow morning, but with the way Jeongin thrusts into you can’t find it in you enough to care right now.

“Innie- fuck, Innie please,” you sob out, as he drives his cock into your sweet spot relentlessly. 

He grips the knot at the base of your hips, tugging on it until your front arches off the bed. 

“Go on, you can cum again. Just know I’m gonna keep fucking you until I’m done,” he says, his hips somehow driving into you harder.

The scream you let out is embarrassing. But the orgasm that rips through you has you shaking harder in Jeongin’s hold. Your walls spasming as you feel yourself gushing around Jeongin’s cock. You can feel the wetness that coats your inner thighs from you squirting. You’re still writhing in Jeongin’s hold. Little aftershocks make you cry into the sheets with each of Jeongin’s thrusts. He groans, hips slowing to a shallow grind as he watches you cum around him. He leans down, panting into your ear heavily. Despite the intense orgasm you just felt, you can’t help the way you twitch at his next words. 

“Look at that… I didn’t know you could squirt baby, how many times do you think I can make you do that for me before the sun comes up?” he asks, grinning at the way your body responds to him.

Dividers by : @/cafekitsune

[bisexualiteaa]

Getting interrupted 🤭

CW: smutty 18+! Suggestive themes, light mentions of/implied smut, getting caught, possible errors and possible OOC scenarios. Otherwise, enjoy! 🥰

John "Soap" MacTavish

- he was a sucker for someone in uniform, so it was no surprise that he would come and constantly visit you down at medical where you worked. It's how you both met and got together after all, so despite the pain and occasionally bad memories that came with it, it still held a place in his heart because you were there.

- he'd never admit it, but sometimes he would get himself hurt on purpose just to visit you, he always loved to see the smile on your face as you would shake your head and rest your hands on your hips before fixing him up perfectly, always having the cure to his every injury or ailment.

- sometimes these were the only moments where he'd get a chance alone with you, enjoying the way you'd always make a little time for him to talk and enjoy each others company for a little while afterwards.

- no one knew you guys were together, everyone knew he had a crush on you because, quite frankly, he wasn't very good at hiding it, but he didn't really want to either. But for the sake of your job, he didn't want to reveal anything should it get you in trouble.

- "you never stay out of trouble, do you?" You asked with a playful grin as you'd just finished stitching up a small gash on his arm. "If I stayed out a trouble, I'd never get the luxury t' see you" he replied with a flirty tone, making you chuckle. "Just be more careful please, I need you in one piece" you replied, kissing his cheek as you sat next to him, having just patched up his arm. "I will, don't worry your pretty head lass, I'll always come back t' you" he assured, making you smile and hum in appeasement before you leaned in, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss. His hand came to cup your cheek as you held his other one in your own, fingers intertwined as you shared in your moment together. When you two were alone together, the world finally felt at peace, no wars to think about, no stress weighing down on you, all you needed to think about was your Johnny.

- So it was no shock that your kiss took a turn to something a little deeper, a sigh leaving you as your free hand rested on his collarbone. "Careful bonnie, go on like tha' and I'll be walkin' outta here with a whole different problem" he said, making you giggle. "Wouldn't half mind fixing that either, too bad you don't know how to keep quiet" you quipped with a grin, making him laugh at your remark. "Cheeky bugger" he replied with a matching grin before pulling you in again, kissing you as if tomorrow you'd be gone.

- But sadly, even the best moments must come to an end, neither of you were expecting the way it had however.

- "Sorry to bother doc, got room to squeeze in a- woah!" Spoke Gaz as he pulled back the curtain, seeing your form loomed over the side of the exam bed, kissing his comrade. You gave a short gasp as you both jumped apart, blushing wildly after being caught red handed. "Shit, I'm SO so sorry!" You spoke, bumping into your cart in your panicked frenzy as you tried to back away and button your uniform back up as to not look suspicious, but it was already too late.

- "Sorry Gaz, appointment got prolonged. Doctors, am I right? Gotta poke around an' check everywhere for some reason" Johnny spoke, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a slight blush but trying to joke his way out of things, as per usual. Gaz gave a chuckle. "Explains why you come down here so often. Here I thought you were just trying to get a good record built up for disability, didn't know you had a Dr. Feel Good situation goin' on" he teased with a grin. "I'm gonna get in so much trouble.." You muttered, holding your face in your hands out of embarrassment. "Relax doc, your secret's safe with me. I promise. It's about time you finally went for" Gaz assured you before offering a genuinely happy smile to Johnny. "I know all to well of the draw of the uniform myself" he added, looking towards one of the other doctors, her offering a giggle and flirty wave his way. "Well I'll be damned" Johnny spoke with a chuckle. "And looks like she's got an opening, so you two just earned yourself some more alone time" Gaz said, making you and Johnny both chuckle. "I owe ya one" Johnny spoke before Gaz walked away, turning back to you as you closed the curtain again, alotting you both some privacy for just a little bit longer.

König

- You were in his room, laying in bed together, enjoying the time alone after months of him being away.

- It started out innocent enough, just enjoying a movie together, but one innocent kiss turned to two, and when wandering hands found their way down your sides to your ass, playful giggles soon turned to quiet moans and it wasn't long before things turned just a little more heated.

- You were on top of him, straddling his lap as his kisses began littering down your neck, his large, rough hands at your hips moving you back and forth against him. A quiet moan and sigh fell from you, both of you doing your best to keep quiet as not to raise suspicions.

- "How I missed you, schatz" he told you, making you smile with drunken love in your eyes. "Missed you too, Kö" you replied sweetly, your lips now trailing down his neck to his bare chest in a way that he swore injected fire straight into his veins.

- You were topless as you sat there straddling him, indulging in one of those moments of kissing one another deeply, only stopping at the feel of each other smiling before resuming. Light, breathy giggles and quiet sighs of pleasure leaving you as you both were caught up in the heat of the moment.

- That was when you both heard the knock at the door, making you both jump. "Shit" you said quietly but in a panic. "Hide" he replied, getting up to put on a pair of pants, allowing you some time to scramble to grab your shirt and any trace you were here and hide in his bathroom, staying dead silent as you did.

- You heard the sound of him talking to Captain Price as you were hidden, relief washing over you once the door had finally closed and he walked away. You peaked back out from the bathroom, seeing König look at you as the look of panic finally fell from his face. "Close call" you spoke with a grin. "Way too close" he replied as you came back to him. "Ya know, if you just came over to my place, we wouldn't have to sneak around and worry about getting caught" you mused, making him chuckle as he leaned down. "Maybe I like the thrill a little bit" he admitted, making you giggle lightly before kissing him once more, your arms draped over his shoulders as you did.

- "Just keep it down in there" Price's voice spoke from the other side of his door, making you panic once more. "König! This is why we should be at my house!" You said, face red as a beet from fluster, and König couldnt help but grin at your embarrassment. Price gave a laugh as he walked away.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- Everyone knew you were his, he made it very clear that he would break the neck of anyone who would dare try to have a piece of you, or even look in your direction with malintent.

- He didn't need PDA to show it either, when you both were out with his comrades, or out in public, a protective arm laid around your waist yes, but even when it didn't, all it took was one look from Simon for someone to deeply reconsider their intentions with you.

- So one night, when you were both coming out to his truck for a smoke from a night out drinking with friends, the liquid courage seeping through your veins, you decided to push his buttons a little.

- There he stood, leaned against his truck, having just finished taking drags off of his cigarette before putting it out with his foot. His balaclava was still pulled up to rest on the bridge of his nose, showing off the lower half of his face, so you took the chance.

- You smiled as he grinned when your fingers slid along his jaw and up under the balaclava just a little, keeping it up so that you could kiss him. The taste of smoke, tobacco, and whiskey mixed together in a taste that was just so *him.* You couldn't help the surge of butterflies that came through you as his hands rested on your hips, the way he kissed you always left your mind reeling as they were always so intimate, so shameless.

- "Just couldn't wait, could ya?" He asked, making you chuckle as you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up from the drinks buzzing in you as well as the heat that always burned in you anytime he kissed you. "You know what bourbon does to me, and you know what *you* do to me" you replied with a playful grin, making him chuckle once more as you said it, poking his chest to prove your point before dragging your finger down some. "I'm very aware" he replied.

- Your finger looped into his belt, giving a strong tug to pull him closer to you, your lips just centimetres apart now before you closed the distance once more. "You're playing a dangerous game, lovie" he spoke in a low tone, making your grin only stretch wider. "That so? Gonna put me in my place then?" You challenged bravely, making his eyes hold a different intensity. Hunger, a predatory one at that. "Get your ass in the truck. Now" he ordered.

- Needless to say, it was no shock to him that you both managed to find your way in the back seat of his truck, music playing just loud enough in the background to add to the atmosphere as your panting from the deep kiss filled the air in the car.

- You grinned far too devilishly as you rolled your hips in time to the beat of the song, enjoying your moment of power over him. But he was there to remind you that even if you were on top and straddling him, that did not, by any stretch of the imagination, mean you were in control. His hand came to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he tugged it back, making your head dip back as he did. You gave a sinful moan as he did, roughly thrusting his hips up into you. "Your misbehavin' has gotten a bit out of hand, love. Someone oughtta teach you some fuckin' manners" he damn near *growled* in response, making you whimper as his hips stilled completely. "Gonna be good f' me? Stop bein' a fuckin' brat?" He asked, making you nod your head yes vigorously, earning another yank on your hair and a powerful thrust up into you. "Answer properly" he ordered. "Yes sir, gonna be good for you, I promise!" you let out, his hand leaving your hair as he started his pace up again. "Then be a doll and take it" he spoke, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continued his brutal pace.

- Anyone on the outside wouldn't have known, the music, not too loud to be suspicious, but perfectly loud enough to cover your joint symphony of moans, pants, and grunts, paired with the sounds of skin against skin. So Soap being none the wiser, thought it'd be safe to go to Ghost's truck to tease you both for being gone for so long.

- Then a hand came to the foggy window, smearing enough of the condensation away to reveal the both of you in the back seat. What he wasn't anticipating was the sight of you on top of him, fully clothed thankfully, but it was clear what was going on. "Shit!" You exclaimed when you saw Soap's eyes widen before he looked away, knowing he'd be in deep shit for catching you both. Simon's eyes followed yours to the window, catching sight of the reason why you were hiding your face in your hands. A devious grin came to his lips, deciding to roll the window down some, not too much to show too much, but enough to send you into a panic. "Si! What the hell are you doing??" You asked, making the scot give a chuckle. "Was comin' t' check an' see if you two were still alive, but clearly you're takin' more than a smoke break" he replied. "Started off as one anyway.." You spoke with a nervous look, making him chuckle once again before turning around and walking back. "Try not to kill 'er" Soap spoke before walking back inside.

- You certainly learned your lesson that night, hiding your face that burned bright red as you left the back seat, Simon of course delighted in your torture as you both went back inside to sit back at the table, getting to take in all the knowing grins from his friends as they all teased you for the rest of the night. To Simon's standards of course, he'd never let anyone take it too far. ❤️

[dearestgojo]

It's Always The Quiet Ones

Boss Gojo x Secretary Fem Reader

A/n: In celebration of last night i finally finished this.

Warnings: 18+. Virginity Loss. Virgin reader. Dubcon. Cunninglus. Oral m & f receiving. Thigh riding. Facesitting. Pussy job. Handjob. Mating press. Full nelson. Creampies. Mirror Sex. Multiple Orgasms. Overstimulation. Nipple play. Oral fixation. Anal play. Fingering. Tit job. Slight name-calling. Facefucking.

Wc:  5.5k | JJK Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"You could loosen up a little," Satoru murmurs into your neck, large hands roaming your sides to your hips, pulling you down to the edge of the couch, "You're tense."

Of course, you are. Never in a million years did you think you'd been in this situation with Satoru Gojo, the man every woman in the office whispered about, the man rumored to be a playboy, and who ignored the lust-filled looks of the women around him. You'd been told from your very first day to steer clear of him, and you had for almost four months until you somehow caught his eye and became his secretary out of nowhere. The sudden change of position raised rumors among your peers even though nothing had happened, the gossip only growing when they found out that he had requested for you to fill in the once-empty post.  

The whispers didn't bother you, there was nothing to hide, and you had never talked to him apart from a few official meetings, document drop-offs, or the occasional office bump-in. And it wasn't like you talked much with anyone in the office, so why would it bother you when you kept to yourself? But now you're starting to think that while you might have not gained the position through ulterior motives your boss had done all of this with this exact goal.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you gasp when his lips wrap around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around it before he nibbles on it. Your back arches off the cushion, legs trembling around his waist, "Your my boss...we cou-ld get fired."

You are unsure if he hears you as he keeps himself busy, gently sucking on your breast, free hand tweaking your other bud, before switching and doing the same thing. The cold air of his penthouse hits your damp breast, and you feel your perked nipple harden as you stare up at the ceiling, your nails digging into Satoru's bicep and shoulder.

"No one has to find out as long as neither of us talks," he finally replies, coming up to look at you, a translucent string of spit that shines against the low light of the lamp connecting his lips to your breasts, "unless you truly want us to stop."

His blue eyes have darkened with lust, and you can feel heat spread across your face as he stares down at you waiting for your response, but his hot hand pressed to your skin and his thumbs drawing circular figures on your sides, make it difficult to think straight. The insides of your thighs burn, a somewhat unfamiliar feeling, while your heart races and your brain reasons why this is a bad idea. 

One, Satoru was your boss, and this could end badly for both of you. Two, you weren't sure if he was just using you for an easy lay. Three, you still had a stack of papers on your coffee table that needed to be done by tomorrow. And finally, you've never done anything like this with anyone.

"I don't know," you gasp, feeling him grind down on you once, the friction on your clit has your eyes fluttering shut and your breath growing heavier. 

Even with your eyes closed you can see Satoru's grin, his fingers dig deeper into your side, "You don't know what?" His breath brushes over the column of your neck, teeth nipping at the skin, hand slipping under the waistband of your pants, "Do you not want this?" His fingers slip further down, finger gliding down your slit, teasing your clit, peering up at your expression through his white lashes. 

Your eyes move behind your closed lids, your mouth forming a small 'o' as you feel him touch you through your panties. Satoru takes in the small whines and gasps that slip past your lips, smiling as he dunks down to nibble on your breast, rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your eyes fly open when you feel his fingers dip under the band, touching your folds directly, withering beneath him, shaking your head.

"I don't know," you hide your face behind your hands, "I-I've never done this."

Satoru's fingers pause, a low hum vibrating against your skin, and he murmurs, "No wonder." Without warning he plunges a single finger into your warmth, attaching his lips to the underside of your boob, the strangled whine that falls from your slips making his ears perk up. Your body arches off the couch, his fingers much thicker than your own, reaching that one spot deep inside of you, the fire ignited in you spreading across your body as he slowly thrust his finger. The vibrations of his voice makes you burn even hotter when he speaks against you, licking the sweat underneath your breast, "Still, you didn't answer. Do you want me to stop?"

You look down at the top of his head and watch it move as he licks the curve of your breast, slowly licking a strip back up to your nipple. His finger curves upwards, brushing against your sponge spot that has you trembling, feeling completely new. Your voice is hoarse when you answer, hands flying up to grip his white locks, "No, don't stop please!"

"Good girl," he grins, switching to your other nipple, and adding a second finger inside you. Satoru's lips attach themselves back to your breast sucking harder than he had earlier, catching the hardened bud between his teeth, the sound quickly filling the room. His fingers make come hither motions while slowly moving in and out of your heat, your thighs trembling around his hand.

"R-right there," you whine, taking in a deep breath.

You feel Satoru's free hand travel up your side, it pauses its ascension to flick your free nipple once, before continuing the rest of the way to the curve of your lips. Two fingers pull your bottom lip down, carefully prying your lips apart. You give him and open your mouth, two of his large fingers entering, hitting the back of your throat. You instinctively start to suck on them, moaning around them when the two fingers in your cunt speed up, the heel of Satoru's hand rubbing your clit.

"Fuck," Satoru groans feeling your cunt clench around his fingers while you coat the other two with your spit, "You sure you've never done this?"  He pulls his fingers out of your lips, trailing them down to your chest, leaving a wet trail behind.

You shake your head, whining as he curls his fingers up, "N-no. This the first time." Your legs shake around his hand, and your ears start to ring, "I'm gonna cum,"

"Yeah?" he wriggles his fingers, using his legs to spread you out further on the couch, watching as your split open by him, "Then cum all over my fingers. Make a mess."

Your body curves off the couch, your thighs squeezing around Satoru's as he presses down on your stomach with his free hand, fingers spread across your torso. Your ears ring for a long time, the world around you going white, heat enveloping you as you tremble beneath him. 

Satoru's fingers don't stop, he keeps thrusting them in and out, hitting the spongey spot inside you over and over. He relishes the way your cunt sucks his fingers in, covering them in slick as he pushes you over your limit. Making sure that he graves himself in your mind, that no one can ever make you feel like he is ever again. Ensuring that you come back to him in the future.

Your eyes start to refocus, the muscles of your thighs spasming, lips ajar gasping for air. Satoru gently pulls his fingers out of your pussy, bringing them to his mouth while he watches your breasts fall and rise. He moans as the taste of your juices settles on his tongue, sweet and savory, bringing his eyes to meet your hazed ones. 

"You taste so good," he groans, pulling his fingers out of his mouth, "I'll get a good taste of your cunt in a bit, but I need your help with this for now."

His hand comes down to grab onto yours, bringing it down to the large bulge in his pants, a large hand forcing your smaller one to grasp it. You swallow down, Satoru guiding your hand up and down, holding back his moans. You look up at him, gulping as you feel his thickness in the palm of your hand, "I don't think it'll fit."

Grinning at you Satoru brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the tips of your fingers, taking the middle one between his lips. You whine when he starts sucking on it, gently biting into it, pulling your finger out with a plop, he seductively grins down, leaning down over you, "We'll make it fit." 

He sits back up, tugging his pants down, freeing his hard cock from its confinements. Grabbing your hand, he pulls it back to him, encouraging you to wrap your hand around his hot cock, cursing under his breath when he feels the soft skin of your palm on him. He guides your hand with the first few strokes, low moans slipping past his lips, eyes becoming hooded. 

"Twist your hand a little as you go down, and you're going to want to rub your thumb here," he points to the mushroom head, "or here," he adds, holding onto your wrist while nudging your thumb toward the slit, hissing when you slide the side of it over it. "Yeah just like that," he pants, falling back between his shoulders, hips subtly moving into your hand. 

You slide your hand down his shaft, slowly twisting your hand, feeling him hot in your palm. Slick coating the inside of your thighs as you watch him twitch in your hold, the inside of your mouth watering as the pink hand turns into a flushed red, precum leaking out. The sound of his moans and praises have you clenching around nothing, your hips rolling up, desperate for some stimulation. 

Satoru looks down at you, tongue poking out from between his teeth, "Look at you, turning into a needy whore so quickly? Do you want my cock that bad?" His voice breaks, your thumb massaging the mushroom head, "F-fuck, don't worry I'll pretty my dick in that pretty pussy of yours. I'll stretch you out so good you'll never find anyone who can make you feel like I do. I'll mold your pretty little hole to the shape of my cock. You like that, yeah?" He leans over you, forehead pressed to yours, shallowly thrusting into your hand, swallowing heavily.

Your hand squeezes around his cock, whimpers leaving your throat when you feel the head brushing against your stomach. His hips rutting into your hand while he whines and moans above you, his eyes looking directly into yours. His breaths mixing with yours.

"Shit, I'm going to cum," he gasps, one of his hands coming down to pull your hand off, sighing when you release him, " It's too soon for that, though." His chest is rising and falling, rabidly, the highs of his cheekbones dusted in light pink. 

He pulls away from you to pull his pants the rest of the way down, tossing them somewhere in the room, and tugging his shirt off. His pale white skin slowly becomes more exposed, there are a few freckles spread across his torso, dotted here and there, and a mole right above his collarbone. When he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his arms, you notice the small dots that curve over his shoulders.

You mindlessly reach forward and connect the lowest speck, that's right above his hip, to the next, and the next, getting closer to his upper body where they're heavier in density. Satoru's muscles flex under your finger, his eyes following its path. You expect him to tease you, but he stays silent, letting you connect the small dots. He stops your hand when you reach his breastbone, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the knuckles, sticking his tongue out to lick between the fingers and the palm of your hand, pressing a small kiss to the center. 

"You're making me feel a little guilty about this. Like I'm taking advantage of you when you look at me like that," he murmurs, shifting his weight so his thighs rest on either side of your hips, "but not guilty enough to stop." Satoru leans over you, soft lips clashing into yours a moment later.

Your mouth welcomes the kiss, opening to let his tongue slide in, your tongue tangling with his. Small gasps tumble past your lips as his hands travel along the sides of your body, coming up to knead your breasts. It's a kiss filled with hunger, teeth clashing against one another, and heavy breaths that become one. You find your lips chasing after his when he separates your lips.

"Getting needy aren't we?" he asked, moving up your torso, your breast still in his grasp, his tongue poking out from between his lips. You're forced to lay on your back as Satoru staddles your stomach, pinching your nipples between his index and forefinger, smirking as you look at him confused. "Just relax," he says stroking his length before resting in the valley of your breasts.

You wriggle beneath as his hot cock touches your skin, saliva flooding the inside of your mouth, your chest rising and falling. A gasp escapes you as he kneads your boobs, pushing them together. "This feels a little weird," you huff, swallowing as you feel his hips start to move the head of his cock peaking out from the top with every thrust. 

Satoru groans, cursing under his breath, "Don't worry about it. Just lay back for a bit." He shifts his weight again, his hips pressed firmly against the underside of your boobs, his thighs squeezing around your ribs, his length rubbing between them. 

All you can do is watch as he slides between your tits, heat burning on the high of your cheeks. The sound of his heavy groans and breathing bounces off the walls of the living room, his balls softly patting against your skin. His weight feels heavy on top of you, hands softly kneading your breasts while moving his hips, he feels hot between them, precum dripping out coating your chest. He suddenly leans further down, letting go of one of your mounds while reaching over your head for one of your pillows.  "Lift your head," he orders out of breath, sweat dripping down his forehead. You do as he says, lifting your head enough for him to slide the pillow beneath your head, "Now be a girl and stick out your tongue."

The tips of your ears burn as you follow his directions sticking your tongue out, a grin spreading across Satoru's face, "Good girl."

His hips start to move again, your breasts pushed together, his thumbs pressing down on your nipples. The head of his cock brushes against the tip of your tongue, the taste of the precum spreading along your tastebuds. Satoru a moan comes out from the back of his throat, his heavy breathing filling up the living room. Your legs move to bend while you lift your head, more of his cock slipping into your mouth, a shaky moan leaving his lips as he feels your mouth wrap around the tip, "Careful with the teeth," he mumbles.

You attempt to move your head, feeling the lips stretch as his girth fills your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you slide it along the vein that runs underneath the shaft, Satoru shutters above you, hands squeezing your breasts.

"F-fuck, keep doing that pretty girl," he moans, hips suddenly rutting in between your boobs. 

The room starts to fill up with the soft sounds of his balls hitting the skin of your breasts and the squelching of the head of cock gliding in and out of your mouth. You breathe in through your nose, unsure of what else to do other than peer up at him while tracing the vein, your fingers gripping the cushion beneath you. 

With a moan Satoru lets go of your tits, shuffling further up your chest, forcing you to take more of his cock into your mouth. You gag around him, throat constricting as the head hits the back of it. Satoru whimpers, drool seeping out the corners of his lips.

"You look even cuter with my cock down your throat," he huffs out, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. 

Satoru's pubic hairs tickle your nose with every thrust, his large hands gripping the pillow under your head. His thigh muscles spasm as he twitches your mouth. The corners of your eyes sting with tears as he continues to hit the back of your throat, gagging noises echoing in your small apartment. You hollow your cheeks as he ruts into your mouth, the loud moan he lets out ringing in your ears. 

He's out of breath when he speaks, one of his hands coming down to caress your cheek, thumb massaging the corner of your lips, "I'm g-gonna cum." His eyes are half closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock twitching in your lips. His white hair sticks to his forehead, sweat dripping down his temples as his thrusts start to falter. The coil in the pit of his belly snapped suddenly.

He pulls out of your lips quickly, his hand leaving your cheek to help him through his release. Sticky cum falls onto your face, and you gasp in surprise as the hot substance lands on your skin. Satoru moans above you, thrusting into his hand while he coats his face with his semen, his other hand grasping tightly onto the pillow. 

Satoru is gasping for air as he comes down from his high, chest heaving and fingers massaging his shaft as he empties himself fully, small drops of cum falling onto your chest. His weight leaves your body, free hand coming down to gather the cum on the corner of your lips, using his thumb to push it in. Satoru grins down at you when you open your mouth to suckle on his thumb, licking the cum off before he retreats back to his spot from earlier. Not wasting a moment before he has you in his hold again.

He lifts you off and plops down on the couch, his thigh between yours. "You're really good with your mouth, you sure you're a virgin?" he asks, grinning up at you, pulling you down onto his thigh, forcing you to roll your hips on the rough material. 

You squirm in his hold, whimpering, "Y-yes. Too much," all while your hips roll against the taunt muscle.

His eyes gleam as he hears you, he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, large hands guiding you, "Just returning the favor." He can feel your swollen clit sliding against his skin, pulsing with need, and the wet trail of your juices left behind, "It's always the quiet ones that are the neediest in the end." The hold on your hips tightens, and Satoru's leg starts to gently bounce you on his thigh while reattaching his lips to your puffy nipples. 

He alternates between bouncing you on the center of his thigh and guiding you on rolling your hips, thumb flicking your clit every so often. He slowly builds your orgasm, feeling you clench and soak his skin, waiting for the expression that lets him know you're about to climax. His blue eyes dance with glee as he waits for that moment, watching your eyebrows draw together and your mouth start to slacken before he pulls you off him, your pussy fluttering around nothing.

You're left whining and complaining as he falls back on your cushion, pulling you with him. "Why'd you stop? I was close," you pout, not even noticing how high up he drags you to up his body until it's too late to complain. 

Your legs are spread on either side of his head, white hair peeking out beneath you, fingers spreading your lower lips apart. One of his hands is kneading the inside of your thigh, one of his long fingers experimentally sliding down your slit, collecting the slick that pours out. "You want me this bad, hug?" Your face feels hot when you hear him sniff loudly out your folds, "For how long I wonder?"

As embarrassment shoots up your spine, you try to wiggle out of his hold, "I-um- you don't have to do this. I'm going to end up squishing you if we stay like this."

But his arms quickly come out from under you to wrap around your hips, pulling you down to his lips, blue eyes staring up at you when he licks on long stripe up your slit. "Not going to happen, princess. You're not getting out of this that easily."

You open your mouth to suggest a different position, one where your preferably sit somewhere other than his face, but as soon as you open your lips he's devouring your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the swollen nub before he slurps at your entrance. The bridge of his nose rubbing your clit.

The noise bounces off the walls of your living room and out through the window, along with the frantic moans you let out as you attempt to collect yourself. But the lapping of Satoru's tongue proves too much for your brain, already fuzzy and lost in the feeling of a man eating you out like you were the last meal set before him. 

You're sure the neighbors can hear you. That they can hear the obscene slurping sounds that Satoru's lips make against your cunt. That they can smell the scent of sex seeping through the thin walls of the apartment complex. If you weren't so lost in the feeling of the burning feeling building up in the pit of your belly you'd be mortified that they know what you're doing right now. 

A loud gasp escapes from your puffy lips as two of Gojo's fingers join his tongue and his hand on your hips pulls you down further down on his face. "Feeling good?" he asks, voice muffled.

You try to form words, try to put together a sentence as you stare at the blurry lamp in front of you. Your entire body feels as if it's been set ablaze, sweat traveling down your temples and the space between your breasts, the salty liquid mixing with Satoru's leftover spit and cum. Some of the mixture makes it to your mouth. How are you supposed to think clearly when he's overwhelming every one of your senses?

The only thing you can do is let out a sound that falls somewhere between the word 'yes' and a pornographic moan. Drool comes out the corners of your mouth as you start to become cross-eyed. Your hand shoots down to grasp onto Satoru's hair when his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers curve.

Satoru makes sure to commit to memory the sounds you're letting out and the way your pussy is clenching and spasming around his fingers. How you taste distinctly sweet, and the smell your pretty little pussy. He takes pride in the fact that your neighbors can probably hear how good he's making you feel. That the perverted old man he saw eyeing you when you were opening the door earlier now knows you belong to someone. That you belong to Satoru. 

But he wants to make sure he gets the message loud and clear.

He removes his lips from your cunt with a soft pop, looking up at you, "Cum for me pretty girl. Let everyone in this building know your boss is making you feel this good."

You shake your head, the walls of your cunt fluttering around his fingers, and you huff out, "N-no, that's embarrassing."

Satoru grins beneath you, his fingers moving quickly and the heels of his palm hitting your clit, "Come on, pretty girl, you're so close. Just let go."

The sensation of his fingers moving in and out quickly is too much for you, and you cum on his command, a fact that boosts his ego. You tremble above him, unfiltered moans and whimpers filling up the room. The taste of your juices falls on Satoru's tongue as he helps you through it the white-numbing orgasm.

You don't know how much time passes but when you return to, Satoru is laying on your chest with a tit between his lips. One of his large hands cups the breast that isn't occupying his mouth, tweaking its hardened bud between his fingers. His hips rutting against you. Your senses slowly return to you.

When you feel something hot and hard move between your folds, you let out a loud gasp, and Satoru's sea-blue eyes look up at you. His lips curve upward still wrapped around your perked-up bud, catching it between his teeth and tugging it up. The surprised moan you let out tickles his ears, his hips rolling between your legs as your back arches off the couch cushions. 

"Lost you there for a second," he groans, looking down at you as the head of his cock bumps against your swollen clit, eyes watery.

You try to respond, but the back of your throat feels scratchy and dry. Only a hoarse moan falls from between your lips, and you peer down between your bodies to watch Satoru's cock glide between your soaked folds.

His length is heavy and hot pressed against you, spreading your lower lips around its girth. Your slick coats it more and more with every thrust, and you can feel your clit pulsing every time the head bumps against it. Satoru takes note of this and pauses to slap the head on it, relishing the way your squirm when he does. Enjoying the noise you make when the tip teases your entrance, barely pushing in, your wet walls fluttering.

He laughs from the back of his throat as he looks down at the wide-eyed look you are giving him, hands scrambling down to push against his hips. Bending over your body, he rests his forehead against yours, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His blue eyes are lust-blown, red dusts his cheeks and nose, and his voice is on the edge of needy, "Can I put in? Please let me make you feel good, pretty girl. Will you let me do that?" The head of his cock breaches your entrance a little, your response still caught in the back of your throat. 

Heat floods your senses, and your body arches up into his as he just barely pushes into you. Swallowly thrusting into you as he waits for your full permission to finally sink into your warmth. You peer up at him with watery eyes, jaw slack as you feel the stretch of just the tip, your head moving before the words leave your lips. 

You're painfully aware that this all might be just another conquest for him. You're just another notch to add to his likely long list, "Yes, please, fuck me," you whimper, your voice strained and the entirety of your being burning.

Satoru grins down at you, eyes shining in the light, reconnecting your lips. His large hand comes down to your thighs, caressing the expanse of it before dipping between them to toy with your clit while he pushes into you. His girth stretches you, and you expect pain but feel just feel an uncomfortableness settle over your belly. You let out a whimper as his hips settle against yours while he gasps and clenches the cushion beneath your head, his jaw tensing up and eyes fluttering closed.

"F-fuck, so warm and tight," he sighs out, spit coming out the corners of his lips. He looks down at you with a dewy-eyed lustful expression, his shoulders slackening, and rolls his hips into you once. 

You feel full. Your entrance stretched to lengths you didn't think were possible, the feeling has your eyesight unfocused and your body burning, insides churning in a way that has shivers traveling up your spine with the glide of his shaft in and out of you, thick veins brushing against your walls. Satoru's hips start to move more feverishly against yours, warm breath brushing against your skin, mixing with the puffs of hair you let out. Everything is starting to feel unfocused the more this pelvis bone brushes against your clit.

He suddenly pushes your legs up against your stomach, almost bringing your ankles to your ears, feeling even much deeper than he had a moment prior. The back of your thighs sting at the forced stretch of your muscles, but the way the head of his cock keeps brushing against a newfound spot deep within you has you forgetting all about it. The glide of his thick cock in and out of your gushing pussy has your brain turned to mush, the feeling utterly new and overwhelming, unadulterated pleasure now replacing uncomfortableness. 

Satoru's length twitches inside of you as your walls convulse. Warm wet slick coating him, leaving a white frothiness behind as he thrusts into with fever. The sight of your juices coating his length has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, knowing that he's the only man to have seen you like this thus far. The only one who would see the fucked out look you were making right now makes his chest swell.

Pressing his hips fully into yours, rutting his hips against yours, he groans out, "Fuck, pretty girl you look so ethereal right now. A fucking goddess." His fingers come down between your bodies to pinch your clit, "Are you going to cum for me again?" 

You nod, gurgled sounds leaving your lips as you try to respond, walls clenching around him. He grins down at you, kissing the corner of your lips.

"Good girl," he mutters, quickly pulling his wet cock out of you, pulling you up, and manhandling you until your back is pressed to his chest. He lays back on the couch with your legs hooked over his arms, one hand repositioning his cock at your entrance. You both let out moans as he pushes back in, his legs bending on your too-small couch. 

If you tilt your head to the side you can see your reflection on the tv. Your make has run down your cheeks and your hair is sticking your face, legs spread open facing away from the tv, something you're thankful for, you don't think you'd be able to take watching your pussy get split open like that. You can see Satoru's thigh muscles flex as he starts to thrust up into you, your breast swaying with the movement. 

The sound of skin slapping skin fills up the room quickly, the front of Satoru's thighs colliding with the back of yours. You can hear your pussy squelching over your wails and Satoru's grunts, sounds that quickly get muffled when Satoru stuffs two fingers into your mouth. 

"Quiet ones also end up being the loudest," he mutters into your ear, voice strained as his cock twitches in you, his own orgasm upon him. His thrust increase in force, the couch creaking under the weight of you, "Come on my cock, pretty angel. Cream all over it."

A few more thrusts and the low grunt of his command are all it takes to push you over the edge. Your body convulses in his hold, the back of your eyes going completely white for the second time. The chants of Satoru's name were muffled by his fingers. You watch yourself climax in the tv, tears staining the highs of your cheeks and eyes crossing. Warmth travels up your spine, spreading throughout your entire body.

Satoru follows close behind, his hips stilling against yours as his warm seed fills you up to the brim. Some of it seeps out the corners dripping down onto your once unstained couch. 

The two of your breaths are even as you slowly come down from your highs. You still feel dizzy from your orgasm when Satoru pulls out, drawing a whine from you that makes him laugh, sitting up with you still in his lap.

"Where's your room?" He asks, standing up on unstable legs, though more stable than yours. You point to the hallway, and yelp when he scoops you up bridal style and carries you in the direction you pointed, "Alrighty then, let's get you cleaned up." 

You feel flustered naked in his arms as if you hadn't just cummed all over his cock and your couch mere moments ago, "You don't have to do that."

Satoru looks at you and smiles a bit, "Course I do. Otherwise, it'd be even more awkward at work tomorrow," your heart sinks a bit, but you remain silent as Satoru continues his sentence, "We need to talk things out about what we are before then also. I'm getting a little tired of the old men at the office wanting to eye fuck my secretary when she belongs in my bed."

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[houseki-no-suffering]

Hey! I found a post of yours (specifically a phos analysis) from a looong while ago. Just curious to hear what your thoughts on the last chapters and the conclusion of the story are!

I recently finished the manga after putting it off for 4 years, and it was an incredible but such a bittersweet read. Maybe it's just me being a sucker for happy endings, but man, it really did not get happier </3

And you probably already know this, but did you know that Ichikawa released the last chapter the same day a comet flew by that looked exactly like the comet from the last chapter? Really cool stuff but I am emotionally destroyed haha

I suppose it was the only kind of happy ending HnK could have, and I don't think I mind it as much as other things that have happened in the last few chapters. It reads more HnK than anything that has happened in the past 1-2 years of serialization.

I appreciate the bittersweet notes (always have) and Ichikawa's words that this is how she wanted the story to end, it doesn't happen to every mangaka. Also, the comet bit is such a nice touch.

As for Phos (I suppose this is the post you meant?), I do believe that they got a happy ending.

If you think about it, instead of becoming a lunarian and being prayed away like the others, Phos' journey gave them the power and knowledge to rise above them. Thanks to their flaws (being brittle, having special inclusions, maybe being the most human of all the gems) they became human, the most flawed of creatures, and basically reverted to the purity of a child, a god, sin-less (even if this is a Buddhist story, so idk if I can actually speak of sin) and therefore free of everything that made humanity always dissatisfied, dangerous and unhappy. The others renounced existence, Phos found a way to reach paradise.

Humanity doesn't come out of this looking like a nice bunch of people to hang out with, and neither do the lunarians (gems included at this point). And yet, there's so much compassion in everything Phos does: a kind child, up until the very end.

I always speculated (and was not alone in this) that Phos' job would become to pray the lunarians/everyone away, find Cinnabar the job to kill them, become a Bodhisattva... in this, I believe, the story remained true to itself. What I believe no one saw coming was how shallow(?) it all seemed in the end.

Everyone came back, making Phos' sacrifices and suffering basically meaningless, everyone started getting along and solving centuries-old problems in seconds. Then, Ichikawa introduced so many new changes abruptly... It felt rushed, lazy and overly simple, when most of us loved HnK for its complexity and depth.

Maybe it was because Ichikawa wanted (or needed to) end the series with ch 108. Usually, when mangaka put a limit to the chapters they want to write, it really damages the story and I wasn't a fan of this even in this situation.

Aside from these issues, I appreciate how Ichikawa seemed to care about the character of Phos.

Maybe this all happened so that Phos could be happy, maybe this was the only possible way for Phos to be happy? It would be a little bit like in Devilman, where the world basically ends only so that Satan can understand love. Idk, little old Phos didn't seem that desperate a case, they just wanted truth, yes, this did cause some... issues, but other than that they're a sweetheart.

This is the leitmotif of the series, after all: Phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred.

They internalize a pressure and a need to feel useful (coming from gem society) and turn them into a necessity for change (unlike in gem society). Initially, they want to find a job. Then, they want to help Cinnabar find a job, then they want to help Ventricosus, then then want to become a fighter, then they want to help sensei, then the gems, then the lunarians...

Contrary to most of the other gems, Phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally. They start off as a self-less creature who believes that their life isn't worth anything. Therefore, they put it on the line time and time again and, eventually, lose it time and time again as they change form.

It's their journey towards truth and happiness: they change and lose pieces of themselves, forget things, renounce gem-ness in favor of humanity and then humanity for god-hood.

Phos changes until they find the form that makes them happy. Their purest, happiest form. They change so much that they come back to square one almost: they become pure Phosphophyllite, with no inclusions at all. Still fragile, still small, but selfless and cheerful. Carefree.

In a sense, HnK ends with Phos becoming Phos.

[starrystevie]

this is all @wynnyfryd's fault. inspired by my own post of complaining about work.

"rough day?"

steve can't help it, okay? every time that eddie rounds the corner to the in house coffee shop with those sad brown eyes and slumped shoulders, he can't just not intervene.

eddie perks up slightly, bringing his gaze from the floor up to steve's face peering from behind the espresso maker, and his frown worsens. "you could say that."

he sounds pitiful, really he does, and it could all be an overexaggerated act but it still tugs at steve's heartstrings none the less. eddie's suit doesn't fit him, the off white theming of the hotel doesn't fit him, the fake smile he puts on for the stuck up customers doesn't fit him. how eddie ended up in the luxury hotel world, steve will never know, but the one thing he does know is-

"could a cookie make it better?"

- that eddie's eyes lighting up at the promise of a warm chocolate chip cookie makes the monotony of being in a dead end job worth it. eddie gives him a smile somewhere between watery and strained that steve takes like a punch to the heart and already has the tongs out before he gets an answer.

"i'm just feeling run down," eddie starts, the ambient coffee shop soundtrack drowned out by the convection oven whirring to life on the counter. "my whole day has been one thing after another, running into red tape and things that i can't finish and it's just ugh!"

there's a thud. steve turns around to check that his famous chocolate chip cookies aren't burning to a crisp in the warmer for one second and eddie is already throwing his head onto the counter. steve has an arm out to pull him up by the hair before he can tell himself not to. instead of giving into that thought, he slides it across the counter so when eddie picks his head up and attempts to slam it down once more, it at least has a softer cushion than granite.

"hey, quit that," he tuts out and eddie goes from bonking his head on the back of steve's hand to turning it so his cheek is resting on it instead. his big brown eyes are peering up at him at an awkward angle and his cheeks are flushed from weird blood flow and yet he's still somehow the most beautiful customer steve has ever had at his counter.

"i just don't think this job is right for me anymore, y'know?" eddie's voice is a little muffled from where the side of his face is smooshed on steve's hand and it breaks his heart in the process. with his free hand, steve turns ever so gently to grab the cookie from the oven with his tongs, plops it onto a plate on the counter and slides it in front of eddie's face.

"i think if anyone could understand not being the right fit for your job, it'd be me.

he doesn't get an answer in the verbal sense. what he gets is a kiss on the back of the hand that sparks like lighting against his skin. eddie is still slumped over on the counter, his back curled over like an uncomfortable shrimp, but he has a glimmer of something in his eyes that makes steve feel as warm as the cookie on the counter.

"thanks for the cookie," eddie mutters and steve would be lying if he said his blush didn't match the one creeping up eddie's neck. "i'll see you tomorrow?"

"yeah," he breathes back. "hopefully when neither of us need cookies to feel better."

eddie unfurls, standing up straight and taking a bite of the cookie that leaves a dab of chocolate on his lip. he swipes at it with his finger and rubs it on his too nice pants and walks away, giving steve a bashful wink over his shoulder. "it's not the cookie that makes me feel better, stevie."

[newobsessionweekly]

Broken Blue

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Tim's anger and harsh words drives you apart. Despite his attempts to make things better, your stubbornness wins until an accident forces you to realize you need Tim and love him more than you want to admit.

Angst

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, blood, bruises, bandages, strong language and harsh dialogue, past traumas, insecurities, briefly mention of death, Not Proofread Yet

Requested: No Words: 4k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

Tim rested on a bed in the emergency room, his normally composed face now contorted in pain. Blood, sweat, and scratches from the day's chaotic events adorned his rugged features, evidence of the intense encounter with one of the suspects. A momentary lapse in judgment, cost him a trip to the hospital, to nurse a superficial wound and his pride.

He didn't want you to worry, knowing very well hearing the news would distract you from your duties and as a first responder, focus is crucial in your job. He just watched as his phone lights up with two texts from you. Despite the pain throbbing through his body, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a flicker of guilt flashing at his conscience for not responding. But he couldn't bring himself to burden you with his troubles, not when he knew you were busy saving lives of your own.

Y/N❤️ Takeout or homemade dinner? Y/N❤️ You ok?

He shuffled the phone back into his pocket after the doctor finished bandaging his wound. All stitched up and blood free, he sighed heavily, waiting for the nurse to finish her paperwork and release him back on the streets.

"You need anything?" Lucy asked from Tim's side, carefully testing the waters.

"If you can't help the nurse with that damn paperwork, then no."

Tim was beyond angry and his grumpiness reached a level neither of them had ever witnessed. The fact that he had let a suspect slip through his fingers while he grappled with another man ate away at him. Failure was not an option, especially not for Tim.

Lucy hesitated for a moment before tentatively broaching the subject, "Should I call Y/N? I mean, if you don't want to tell her yourself, I can do that. She should know."

Tim's jaw tightened at the mention of your name, " Absolutely not." he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I don't want her to worry."

The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds, each one feeling like an eternity as you anxiously check your phone for any sign of a response from Tim. But as the minutes stretch into hours, your worry only grows, gnawing at the edges of your mind like a persistent itch.

You try to push aside your concerns, telling yourself that Tim is probably just caught up with work. After all, Lucy or Sergeant Grey would've called you immediately if something serious had happened, right? But despite your attempts to rationalize his silence, you can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

Kojo senses your unease and nuzzles closer, his warm fur a comforting presence against your skin. You bury your face in his soft fur, seeking solace in his silent companionship as you absently watch your favorite TV show.

You glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, but the screen remained stubbornly blank. A pang of concern tightened in your chest as you checked the time, noting that it wouldn't be long until Tim returned from his shift.

You replayed your texts and the morning conversation with Tim in your mind, wondering if you had said something wrong or if he was upset with you for some reason. But deep down, you knew that wasn't the case.

The sound of keys clicking in the lock jolted you from your thoughts, and both you and Kojo jumped up from the couch, eager to greet Tim as he returned home. But as you caught sight of his face, your excitement turned to shock and concern.

His handsome face was now stained with angry red, purple, and blue bruises, the evidence of a day gone wrong. Kojo bounded over to him, tail wagging enthusiastically, but you remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from Tim's battered face.

"Babe, what happened? Are you okay?" you asked, trembling with worry as you took in his appearance.

"I'm fine. Just a little scratch," Tim replied dismissively, his tone harsh as he attempted to downplay the severity of the situation.

But when he knelt down to pet Kojo, you couldn't help but notice the slight wince of pain that crossed his face, and your heart clenched with concern. You caught a glimpse of the bandage peeking out from under his shirt, and horror washed over you as you realized the extent of his injuries.

"You're not fine. You're hurt," you insisted, concerned as you took a step closer to him.

But before you could reach out to examine his wounds, Tim's attitude shifted, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

"I said I'm fine. Please, Y/N. I've had a long day," he snapped, his words sharp and cutting.

You recoiled slightly at his coldness, hurt flashing in your eyes as you tried to reach out to him again.

"Let me take a look," you pleaded, softer this time.

But Tim pushed you away, rejecting your attempts to help. "I don't need to be babied. I can take care of myself. I went to the hospital, everything is okay," he insisted, his tone final as he shut you out.

Tim's anger simmered beneath the surface, tension radiating from his rigid posture and the sharp edge to his words. Each syllable was punctuated by a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, his frustration palpable in the way he paced back and forth across the room.

"I just want to help you, be there for you," you pleaded, desperate as you tried to bridge the growing void between you and Tim.

But he backfired at your words, his expression hardening as he turned to face you, his movements sharp and jerky.

"You know what, Y/N? Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need help. But not from you. You're just like everyone else, trying to fix me, trying to change me into something I'm not."

The venom in his voice cut through the air like a knife, leaving you shaken by the force of his words.

"Tim, that's not fair," you protested, your voice trembling with hurt. "I'm not trying to change you. I just want to help you."

But Tim's anger only seemed to swell with each passing moment, his frustration boiling over as he lashed out at you once more. "Help me? You think you can help me?" he spat, his words dripping with disdain. "You don't know the first thing about me, Y/N. You don't know what I've been through, what I've seen."

Your heart ached at the bitterness in his tone, the pain in his eyes mirroring your own. "I may not know everything about your past, Tim, but I know you," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know the man you are, the man I fell in love with."

But Tim's laughter rang hollow in the room, his expression twisted with self-loathing as he dismissed your words with a bitter scoff. "Fell in love with?" he sneered, his movements sharp and erratic. "You don't love me, Y/N. You love the idea of me, the idea of some perfect boyfriend who's always there for you, always has the right thing to say."

As he turned away from you, his shoulders hunched with the weight of his own insecurities, you felt the distance between you widen with each passing moment.

"You're just like everyone else, expecting me to be someone I'm not," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Well, newsflash, Y/N. I'm not perfect. I'm broken, and I always will be."

With a final, agonized glance in your direction, Tim retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him and locking himself away from the world.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, you felt the weight of Tim's harsh words bearing down on you like a crushing weight. You tried to push aside the pain, but you couldn't stop the them from spilling over. With trembling hands, you wiped the tears away, your body trembling as you struggled to make sense of it all.

It felt like a dagger to your heart, shattering the illusion of the love you thought you shared. You knew that it was time to leave, to give Tim the space he so desperately seemed to need.

Gathering your belongings, the weight of Tim's rejection pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket, you couldn't help but question everything you thought you knew about your relationship. Did he ever truly love you, or was it all just a facade?

As you made your way to the door, the weight of your decision pressed down on you like a ton of bricks. But you knew it was the right thing to do. Tim needed space, time to process his emotions and come to terms with the trauma that haunted him. And as much as it pained you to leave him behind, you knew that staying would only make things worse.

Behind the closed door, Tim laid on his bed, consumed by the weight of his own traumas and the burden of today's shift. Regret gnawed at him, a bitter taste in his mouth as he replayed his words to you over and over again in his mind. He knew he had crossed a line, said things he didn't mean, but it was too late to take them back now.

But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at his soul, the knowledge that he had pushed you away with his rage and irritation when he needed you the most.

Closing his eyes, he let out a heavy sigh. He wished he could go back, erase the hurtful words that had spilled from his lips in a moment of weakness. But he knew that was impossible. All he could do now was wait, wait until he was sure that his anger and frustration had subsided enough to face you again.

And so, he lay in bed, the minutes ticking by like hours as he wrestled with his demons. But deep down, he knew that no amount of time would erase the pain he had caused you.

Tim's excitement was palpable as he approached your doorstep, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Tonight has to be special, a chance for the two of you to spend some quality time together away from the chaos of everyday life.

He knocked lightly on the door, eager to see your face light up with delight as you welcomed him inside. But as the moments ticked by without a response, a sense of unease began to gnaw at him.

Pushing open the door, he stepped into your apartment, the familiar surroundings bathed in a soft glow that seemed to washout his excitement. The sight that greeted him sent a chill down his spine, freezing him in his tracks.

There you were, lying on the floor, your body still and unmoving, a pool of blood spreading out beneath you like a macabre halo. Panic surged through him as he rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he tried to stop the flow of blood.

But it was too late. Your eyes stared blankly into the void, empty, and Tim felt his heart shatter into a million irreparable pieces. "No," he whispered, his voice cracking as he held you close.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pressed kisses to your forehead, his mind stumbling with the weight of his loss. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked with regret. "I should have been here sooner."

But there was no response, only the cold silence of death that surrounded him like a heavy cloak. And as he held you close, his tears mingling with the crimson pool that stained the floor.

Tim's heart pounded in his chest as he jolted awake from the nightmare, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to shake off the lingering clasps of the dream. Frantically, he reached out for you, his hand searching desperately for the warmth of your body beside him, but all he found was empty space, cold and drained of the warmth he craved.

Panic surged through him, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts and fears. "Y/N?" he called out as he scanned the room for any sign of you. But the only response was the terrifying silence that filled the air, mocking him with its emptiness.

He stumbled out of bed, his movements clumsy as he made his way to the living room. "Please, Y/N, come back to bed," he pleaded, his voice echoing in the empty space.

But you were nowhere to be found, and as he searched every nook and cranny of his house, his anxiety only grew. "Kojo, where's Y/N?" he asked, the dog whimpering in response, adding to Tim's sense of unease.

Days dragged on with agonizing slowness for both you and Tim as he waited for any sign of a response. His phone remained stubbornly silent, your absence a constant ache in his chest that refused to fade. He sent text after text, each one filled with apologies and pleas, but you remained radio silent, a painful reminder of the rift that had grown between you.

Desperate to bridge the gap, Tim even mustered the courage to go to your place, but his hopes were crushed when you refused to answer the door. The rejection hurt like a slap in the face, leaving him feeling more lost and alone than ever before.

You found yourself seeking solace in the company of a familiar face and fellow firefighter: Bailey. As you poured out your heart to her, she listened with sympathetic understanding, offering gentle words of wisdom and advice.

"Maybe it's time to give Tim a chance to explain himself, to apologize," Bailey suggested gently.

But you remained stubborn, unwilling to entertain the thought of reconciliation until you had had time to process your own hurt and anger.

"I can't," you insisted, your voice thick with emotion. "Not after what he said to me."

But Bailey wasn't ready to give up on you just yet. "What if you met him at our place, with John and me there to... mediate?" she suggested, her tone hopeful. "It could be a chance for both of you to talk things out, to find some common ground."

But you weren't ready to entertain the idea, your heart still raw with pain and betrayal. "I appreciate the offer, Bailey, I really do," you said softly, "but I'm not ready to face him yet."

Tim sought solace in the familiar surroundings of the station, his footsteps heavy as he made his way to John. "Hey, Nolan," he said, his voice. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about Y/N, would you? Did Bailey mention something...?"

But John shook his head, his expression guarded. "It's not my place to say," he replied, his gaze fixed on Tim with a mix of sympathy and concern. "But I can tell you this much: she's hurting, Tim. More than you know."

Tim's heart clenched at the thought of your pain, his guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. "Okay... what should I do?"

John offered him a sympathetic smile. "Give her some time, Tim," he advised. "And when she's ready, be there for her. I have a feeling she'll come around eventually."

Tim's phone rang unexpectedly, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the air. His heart skipped a beat as he glanced at the caller ID, his fingers fumbling to answer the call. "Y/N?" he breathed, relief flooding through him at the sound of your voice.

"Tim, uh. Sorry to bother you so late, but…" your voice came through the line, strained and weak, and Tim's heart clenched at the sound. "Can you… pick me up from John's? Please."

The urgency in your tone sent a shiver down Tim's spine, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities. "Of course, baby. On my way," he replied without hesitation, his heart pounding in his chest as he scrambled to grab his keys and jacket.

You’ve been crashing on John’s couch for the past few days after one call turned unexpectedly bad. Gladly, no one else was hurt, but Bailey couldn’t just let you go back into your empty place. She insisted keeping you close to them, checking on you, after you stubbornly refused to call Tim. But you’ve had enough. Not seeing the man you loved from the bottom of your heart, not feeling his touch, not having him close when you need him the most. So, you mustered all your courage and broke the silent vow to pay Tim back in his own coin.

When John answered, Tim barely spared him a glance, his focus entirely on you. Relief flooded through him at the sight of the woman he loved, barely in one piece, but alive, and it was quickly overshadowed by the magnitude of your injuries. You looked so small and fragile, curled up on John's couch, your body covered in bruises and bandages, but still beautiful in his eyes.

Rushing to your side, he gently gathered you into his arms, careful not to worsen your pain. "What happened?" he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

As he gathered you into his arms, his touch gentle yet firm, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. Relief, gratitude, and love mingled with the pain and exhaustion that weighed heavily on your body. The warmth of his touch was a balm to your battered body, easing the ache that seemed to permeate every fiber of your being.

You recounted the events of the past few days, your voice trembling as you described the accident. Each word hurt, the pain of seeing you in such a state almost too much to bear. Tim's heart clenched at the thought of you suffering alone, and he cursed himself for not being there when you needed him most.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he scolded gently, a a surge of protectiveness washing over him.

But your eyes flashed with defiance, and you bristled at his words. "You're not exactly in a position to scold me for that, Tim," you shot back, your tone tinged with frustration. "You did the same thing."

"Is this some kind of revenge?" Tim asked.

You scoffed at the suggestion. "No, Tim, it's not revenge," you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

But as Tim furrowed his brows at you — something he often does when he’s not buying your words — your resolve began to waver. "Okay, fine, maybe at first it was about revenge," you admitted. "But I can't do this anymore, Tim. I need you even though I'm still upset."

Tim pulled you closer as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm here now, babe," he whispered lovingly. "I've got you."

As you buried your face in his chest, the weight of his words washing over you like a soothing balm. "How did you that“ you asked, “How did you manage to get through being shot all by yourself?"

Tim's embrace tightened around you, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. "I needed you so much, Y/N," he admitted, "I tried to reach you, to explain everything. Tell you I didn't mean a single word I said."

But before he could say more, you stopped him with a gentle shake of your head. "But I left you..." you whispered.

Tim's expression softened, his gaze locking with yours. "I don't blame you for that," he said softly, his voice filled with love and understanding. "I would've done the same thing if I were you."

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at his words, a sense of relief washing over you like a wave. "I guess we're even?" you teased, batting your eyelashes playfully at him.

Tim chuckled at your words, his heart swelling with love for you. "You're such a kid," he joked, "But I love that about you. And I love you."

As John and Bailey watched the exchange with amused smiles, John cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "Alright, lovebirds," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "As much as I've enjoyed your presence, Y/N, it's time to get off my couch."

Tim grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Let's go home."