#look at those strong elegant hands *V*

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | raymond leon x reader

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 | since you've managed to outsmart (or, more accurately, seduce) your last four bodyguards, your wealthy father decides it's time to take a new approach: hire a timekeeper to watch you. after all, a man who dedicates his life to the law can withstand the wiles of a spoiled, lonely girl... right?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 4.7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | dubcon smut (rough sex, daddy kink, choking, slapping, creampie, breeding kink, glove kink, degradation), age gap (raymond is ????, reader is early 20s), slight dd/lg undertones, reader is a bit dark and manipulative hehe

You were rolling your stockings up your legs, one of the final stages in dressing for the party tonight, when your bedroom door opened.  “Hey, Ray,” you greeted with a purr as he stepped inside.

“Officer Leon,” he corrected you.

“Right,” you smiled, tilting your head.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

He scoffed, looking away, and you bit your lip— he was getting frustrated, in more than one sense of the word, and you were going to get what you wanted (like always). Boys are simply too easy.

This whole cat-and-mouse thing was starting to drive you a little crazy— none of the other bodyguards had taken this long to crack.  But really, the anticipation just added to the fun.

You stood up and turned your back to him, hoping he was eyeing the V-shaped portion of your back he could see with your gown still open.

“Will you help me zip up my dress?” you asked sweetly, making sure your hair was out of the way and looking back over your shoulder at him sweetly.  He sighed but stepped closer to you, but tugging on the zipper only lifted the bottom of your dress a bit— so he had to put his other hand on your hip to hold it in place as he pulled the zipper up, and you were thankful he couldn’t see your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.  His hands were so strong, you could feel it even through the gloves— and those fucking gloves, shiny black leather, he knew damn well what he was doing to you.  He just didn't seem to care.

"There," he said when he'd tugged it up to the top, stepping back, and you turned around to face him.  The dress was more elegant than you usually went for: you traded in your lace and bows in pastel shades for a dark purple silk that fell to the floor.

"What do you think?" you asked, biting your lip.  "Daddy picked it out for me."

"He has expensive taste," Raymond noticed, though he conspicuously didn't comment on your appearance.  He was very uptight, especially about professionalism.  You sort of got the feeling that if you could just pull one of his strings hard enough, he'd totally unravel: which is why you kept trying.

As he tried not to look at you, you gave him a slow look up and down.  "Is that what you're wearing tonight?" you asked incredulously, pointing to his high-neck black sweater and long leather trench.

"I'm working tonight, so yes," he answered.

Everyone thought Raymond stuck out like a sore thumb in your room— his angular, dark form against the soft baby pinks and white laces around your bed, a hardened cop amongst the porcelain baby dolls and fluffy stuffed animals and gold-edged tea sets: but you thought he fit right in, standing there amongst all your playthings.

~

The party was a bit dull— you were having more fun toying with your bodyguard than anything else.  “Try this,” you’d insist as you held up an hors d'oeuvre to feed him; he had to give in, he had to do whatever you said in front of all these people, but he glared at you as he leaned forward and took a bite out of the mini-tart.

You bragged to your father’s guests about your new bodyguard— or toy, as you called him more often.  “Daddy bought him for me,” you’d say, “and he has to do whatever I want.  Show them your gun, Mr. Leon!”

He only looked at you sternly again, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s sort of grouchy,” you explained to the amused dinner attendees.  He didn’t react much, still standing there with his gloved hands held in front of him, but you saw a little tightness in his jaw.

Best of all, you flirted with as many suitors as you could get away with in a night, just to bother him.  The tricky thing about a world without aging is men who’ve been around quite some time were still just as eligible for your hand as men closer to your age— you wondered if it would bother him more knowing that one of your father’s wealthy friends who had been alive at least 80 years was doting on you.  Didn’t matter either way: you let them all stand a bit too close, put their hand on your lower back— you laughed too hard at their shitty jokes.  All to make Ray jealous, but when you glanced over your shoulder at him, you could never catch a reaction.

After the guests had left and the staff had begun cleaning, you went back to your room to change.  You’d coyly asked Raymond if he would watch over you during that, too, but he didn’t answer because he knew you were joking.  It’s not like you were ever really serious… but you did want him.  Not just for fun, and not just to prove to your father that there was no use hiring these bodyguards— he was fucking sexy, obviously.  Definitely your favorite so far, and exactly your type… for how much he thought you were trying to tease and tempt him, he was the one driving you a little crazy.

Still, you kept your cool as best you could; you needed to keep control over him, and thankfully with him working for you, that was pretty easy to exert.  (Well, technically he worked for your father, but it was close enough.)

“Oh, Mister Officer,” you called out to him through the door as you sat on your bed, hearing him step closer.

“Yes?” he asked, voice slightly muffled.

“I just need your help with something,” you explained, but he still hesitated.

“Are you decent?”

Damn, he wasn’t that gullible anymore.  “Enough,” you replied, and he sighed before opening your bedroom door.

You were in your bra and panties now— but with your heels and stockings still on, of course; he lost track of his step for a second when he saw you, then frowned at you.  “That’s not what I would consider decent,” he said.

“Well, I need your help and I wasn’t going to put on a turtleneck just for that,” you replied.  “You’ve seen me in my bikini by the pool, anyways…”

And you’d made him apply sunscreen on your back as well; you smirked to yourself at the memory.  “What do you need my help with?” he reminded you of the original topic.

“Well, these shoes are too small for me now,” you said, “I didn’t realize how much I’d grown since I wore them last…”

You hoped he’d find that a little intriguing, as someone who himself hadn’t grown in… you didn’t even know how long.  He obviously never talked about it— for all you knew he could have been alive a hundred years, though he certainly didn’t act like it.  

You lifted a stiletto-clad foot forward towards him.  “Now they’re stuck.  Will you help me take them off?”

He sighed that trademark, frustrated sigh of his, and you fought off a smile.  “You can’t do that yourself?” 

You shook your head.  “I’m not strong enough,” you explained with a shrug.

Clearly not buying it but in no position to accuse you of lying, he knelt down in front of you.  Taking the shoe in his hand, he looked at you with annoyance in his eyes as it slipped off easily.  

“You’re so strong,” you cooed, wiggling your toes inside the pantyhose, then putting your foot down to hold out the other in front of him.  “Now the other one,” you demanded.

He took the shoe off of you, tossing it aside, and you let your foot brush against his thigh as you lowered it down— just long enough to make it not quite believable as an accident.

“Now my stockings,” you continued, and he got up and started to walk away.

“You’ll have to do the rest on your own,” he insisted.

“But who’s gonna help me undress?” you pouted, and he stopped walking halfway to the door, dropping his shoulders a bit.

“I don’t know, how about you ask one of those boys that was sniffing around you all night?” he suggested, and you smiled proudly.  Oh, you noticed that?  

“I can’t,” you sighed, “you know Daddy doesn’t let me have any boys in my room— except you.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “because I’m the one who keeps the boys out of your room.”

“It’s no fair,” you whined.  “It’s so boring up here by myself…”

“Please,” he groaned, finally turning around, “with all these things you have?  You shouldn’t have any trouble being entertained.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, “I shouldn’t— but I do.  There’s only one thing I really wanna do right now…”

You started to slowly and delicately run your fingers up your legs, spreading them a bit.

“But I don’t wanna have to do it alone…” you continued, blinking up at him as you saw his nostril twitch— could this finally be the moment you caught him?

In an instant, he stormed towards you and grabbed you by the neck.  “So fucking spoiled,” he growled, his black leather gloves crinkling softly as you whimpered and held his wrist.  “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?  You think your father didn’t tell me what happened to the last four bodyguards?”

“I— I didn’t fuck them all,” you defended, voice a little thin from the pressure on your throat, “the third quit on his own—”

“Because he knew what would happen if he gave in to you,” Raymond sneered.  “And so do I.  You think I’ll give up on a job like this that easily?”

That was one thing that made Ray different than the others before— they were all professional bodyguards, used to working for the elite class.  Most of them probably already had plenty of time, or could at least keep getting jobs of this caliber to earn a similar keep.  But Timekeepers weren’t especially well compensated, paid daily but only paid just enough to keep going until the next per diem.  He’d probably never had more than a couple days on his clock, and now he was earning a month a week just to babysit you.  That was why your father hired him for this, you finally realized: he’d said before that he simply hoped a lawman would have a little more integrity and not give in to temptation with you, but it was far more than just that.

Raymond let go of your neck and tossed you back onto the bed, but just when you hoped he’d climb on top of you and pin you down, he scoffed and turned away.  “You’re too young, anyways,” he said as he crossed his arms.

“Am not,” you denied.

“Your clock hasn’t even started yet,” he noticed.

“I’ve only got a few more years left,” you frowned, “but I’m still an adult.”

“Then fucking act like one,” he suggested sharply, and left the room with slam of your door.

You sighed, once again left frustrated with another unsuccessful attempt to get him into bed.  But, you smiled, too; because you knew this was a step in the right direction.

~

Your father tried not to travel much, since it was one of the few things that exposed him to the risk of death.  Wouldn't it be absurdly ironic, dying in a plane crash after living for hundreds of years and with nearly a millennium left on his clock?

Still, he didn't get all these years by sitting around in his house, he was a busy professional.  And his work sometimes required him to leave for as long as a few weeks.

He had you come and see him off at the hangar, Officer Leon not far behind as you kissed your father on the cheek and bid him safe travels.  

You loved when he left, it gave you a lot more freedom.  But Raymond didn't know that, he just knew you were a billionaire's youngest daughter left alone in a massive mansion, and you'd already had planned for weeks how you could use that to your advantage.

You knew he was outside your door, you could see the shadow of his boots through the crack between the wood and the plush rug.  Fighting off a little smile, you whimpered softly— but not too soft, he needed to hear it.  The first one didn't seem to work, so you dropped your head and did it again.

He swung open the door a second later, and though he seemed relieved to find you alone and not being kidnapped or something, he still had to ask: "Are you alright?"

You sniffled and wiped at your eye, acting like you were trying to hide your tears as if it all wasn’t a performance in the first place.  “Daddy’s gone away,” you pouted, “and left me all by myself… m’so lonely, Mr. Leon.”

“Officer,” he corrected, but his voice faltered when you looked up at him with big, needy eyes.

“I don’t wanna be all alone,” you whimpered, “I need somebody to take care of me… protect me…”

You rubbed your thighs together as you sat on the bed, toying with the lacy hem of your nightgown.

“Somebody big and strong,” you continued as he crossed his arms, “like you.”

His stare was icier than ever, yet those eyes still could’ve melted you if you let them.

“Will you be my new daddy while he’s gone?” you asked sweetly, biting your lip, and he tensed his jaw as he looked away.

“What do you get out of toying with me?” he asked sharply.

“Fucked, hopefully,” you smiled.  

“You know, I’ve known a lot of women,” he informed you; you had no idea where he was going with this, but you liked how it started.  “Rich, poor— prostitutes, politicians— young, or just young-looking.  But I don’t think I’ve ever met such a brainless, insatiable little whore as you.”

You stood up from the bed, stepping closer to him carefully.  “Really?” you smiled, taking it as a compliment, and that only angered him further.

“What is it that makes you think you can get whatever you want?” he wondered, his blue eyes like daggers as he glared at you. 

“Experience,” you shrugged, reaching up to trace a finger over his lapel, but he batted it away harshly.  “Ooh,” you breathed, “you’re a mean daddy, hm?  The type that believes in lots of discipline?”

He didn’t respond, even when you stepped so close that your body was nearly touching his.

“I can be a good girl,” you promised sweetly, “for you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he snapped.

“Let me prove it, daddy,” you purred, “just give me a chance…”

You leaned in, wondering if he’d let you kiss him— he hadn’t backed away, but he hadn’t relaxed out of his bodyguard posture, either.

“Just make me yours,” you pleaded under your breath, lips nearly brushing against his.

Before you even realized he’d given in, he slammed you back against the wall with a hand around your neck, the other instantly grabbing you between the legs, and you mewled joyfully.  “Fuck,” he snarled, like he was just as frustrated with himself as with you; his gloved hand roughly navigated up under your nightgown and into your panties.  

Two leather-covered fingers slid inside you, and you arched your back up off the wall.  

“Needy whore,” he grunted as he shoved his fingers deeper into you, making you whimper as your knees almost buckled.  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned happily, though he slapped you across the face hard with his other hand right after you said it, and you yelped as you clutched your cheek.

“I’m not your fucking daddy,” he spat at you.  “Such a goddamn brat— if I was your daddy, you’d have some fucking manners.”

“Teach me,” you begged, “fuck, please— I need to learn.  Teach me right now.”

He let go of you, and pulled his fingers out of you, and stepped back slightly as he shed the gloves and his long coat.  “Get on your fucking knees,” he growled, watching you slide along the wall onto the floor.  

You didn’t need to be told what to do after that, you simply smiled as you reached up to rub the bulge in his pants.  Unbuckling his belt for him, you had to catch your breath when you realized how big he was.  

He smirked when you whimpered slightly while taking it out, stroking him as he got harder in your grip.  “More than you bargained for?” he wondered smugly.

“Nothing a brainless, insatiable little whore can’t handle,” you promised just before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.  He gasped a little before humming in satisfaction, and you suckled as you swirled your tongue around his head, fitting what you could in your mouth and trying to coat the skin with your spit.

His hand suddenly held onto your hair when you started to bob your head, and he groaned when you choked slightly on the tip of him.  “Fuck,” he whispered, “yeah— like that, baby…”

You moaned around him, not just for show but a reaction to the satisfying weight of him on your tongue— and the slightly salty taste of leaking precum.  Your fingers brushed gently over his balls as you blinked up at him: you were pulling out all the stops, you wanted him to lose his mind over you even more than he already had.

He pushed your hair back, tilting your head further to meet your gaze.  You thought he might speak when he opened his mouth, but you gagged on him again and he just sighed.

Your hand wrapped around the rest of his length that you couldn't reach with your lips, stroking him in time with the way you bobbed your head; and your other hand couldn't help but reach down between your bent legs, pressing against your core— bare, as you'd already thought ahead and forgone panties— and making you hum at the smallest hint of friction.

You were just starting to set a rhythm with it, the bobbing of your head and the stroking of your hand and the way you swirled your tongue… but of course he had to throw you off and shove your head down, making you choke again unexpectedly, as he groaned at the feeling.  “S’what you wanted,” he reminded you, starting to roughly fuck your mouth.  “What you fucking wanted, right, little whore?”

You could only barely nod with him holding your head, and your clit throbbed just from the way he looked down at you with his teeth bared.

“Fuck, just need a cock to choke on,” he growled.  “Only way to shut you up, huh?”

He gave your throat a few more aggressive thrusts before pulling back, and you coughed and wiped your chin as you looked up at him.  “It’s not all I wanted,” you reminded him when you caught your breath, and he smiled at you in a condescending sort of way.

“Right,” he recalled, tilting his head, “you wanted to be fucked.  Poor thing.”

“Please, daddy?” you batted your eyelashes up at him, and he just laughed thinly.

“Nothing’s stopping you, princess,” he replied, holding his hands out, as if to suggest you come and take it.  You couldn’t resist an offer like that.

Standing up and grinning at him, you pushed him back by the shoulders and down onto the bed, straddling his lap.

He smirked up at you; “Really need it that bad, huh?” he mocked as you pulled your nightgown up over your head and tossed it aside quickly.

“Uh huh,” you agreed with a nod, “need you so bad— you’ll let me ride your big cock, right, daddy?  Please?”

But you were already lining him up to your entrance and sinking down, and you both groaned loudly as he filled you.  “God, it’s so wet,” he hissed, watching you gasp as you lowered yourself further.  “You get that wet just from sucking cock?  Fuckin’ slut.”

Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible.  “Fuck, daddy,” you moaned, “you’re so deep…”

“Yeah,” he panted in agreement, “can’t believe that little pussy’s taking all of me…”

You started to grind on him right away, holding onto his shoulders as you rocked your hips desperately.  “Oh my god, oh my god,” you chanted, “it’s s-so good, it feels so good—”

He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those steely eyes looking up and down your body as you moved.

You'd been sort of on edge the whole time, sucking him off and all— not to mention that the foreplay with you and Raymond had started, in your mind, months ago when he was first hired.  The satisfaction of finally having him exactly where you wanted him was nearly as good as the physical sensation… but it did feel incredible, the curve of his cock rubbing up against your spot with so much pressure that you shuddered all over.

His hands ran over your body, the strength of them more than apparent even when he was touching you somewhat delicately, and you moaned as his rough fingers punched your nipples.

You shifted from grinding down on him to properly bouncing up and down, arching your back to get the perfect angle as you both groaned.  "Fucking tight," he mumbled his praise.

You held on tighter to his shirt, really wishing you could see him without it, but there was something hot about him still being in his uniform… especially when you were totally naked.  It probably made him think he had more power over you, which was exactly what you wanted him to think.

Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you already, pulsing and swelling as you let your head drop forward to look down at him looking jus perfect underneath you.

He grabbed you by the neck, only to be unexpectedly sweet and pull you down into a kiss— but it was still a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine and tense up inside as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth.  And he didn’t let go of your neck, either, in fact he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.  

“So good, daddy,” you mumbled into the last moments of the kiss.  His hands moved down to your body, following your movements, and you pulled back enough to look at his face closely.  “You’re so fucking good, daddy,” you praised again.

He groaned and held your waist tighter, making you hum and smile.  "Little slut," he scolded through his teeth as you moved faster.  “Show daddy how you make yourself come.”

You beamed as he really accepted the title for the first time.  Sitting up higher and bouncing faster, you moaned loudly as you chased your high: shocks of sensation hit inside you, faster and faster the longer you continued.

You grabbed his hands off your hips and pinned them down beside his head, riding him harder while he smirked up at you.  "So desperate," he cooed— but you could hear in his voice that he was close, too.

Whimpering at the feeling, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you— it was sort of difficult to come like this, since you could only move so fast, but the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.

“Fuck, get off,” he warned, “gonna come.”

You grinned, biting your lip, and kept grinding your hips.

“Get up,” he demanded, but you just tightened your grip on his wrists.  “Fuck, are you—?”

“Shh, m’close,” you scolded, feeling him try to struggle under you— but he was flexing inside you, too, and you knew he couldn’t hold back forever.  He was obviously more than strong enough to fight you off if he really wanted, but it wasn’t about your body overpowering his— it was about you forcing him to give in to his instincts… to temptation.

“I swear to fucking god,” he groaned through his teeth, “if you don’t fucking get off me right now—”

“I’m coming, daddy!” you announced suddenly as you bounced on him even more fervently.  “Oh my god, daddy, m’coming on your big cock!  Yes!”

It felt great, don’t get me wrong, but you were definitely playing it up and giving him a real show as you tossed your head back, screamed out his name, dug your nails into his wrists— you wanted him to be totally helpless to you for just that moment.  “Fuck!” he groaned, and you laughed excitedly as his cock pulsed inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the mattress with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.  

“Oh fuck, come in me, daddy,” you demanded, rocking your hips and squeezing him tight for every drop, “wanna be so fucking full—”

He groaned through his teeth as it all started to die down a bit, scrunching his face up for a second before relaxing under you again; you felt his cock pump just a few more times, weaker than before, and you hummed proudly.

“God— oh my god—” he panted out, opening his eyes wide as he started to catch his breath, looking at you like you were crazy.  You just laughed and bit your lip as you finally stopped moving.  “What the fuck did you just do?” he snapped, but he still whimpered a bit when you deliberately clenched your walls around him.

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just really needed some come inside me— been really in the mood to get bred lately—”

You giggled as he grabbed you and threw you down onto the bed, turning you both over as he held your arms tight and pulled out— he blinked quickly, his lips slack and still a little stained from your pink gloss, as he watched his come leak out of your pussy.  “Fuck,” he snarled, clearly trying to use his anger and panic to hide how much it turned him on.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  Do you realize what fucking happens if you get—?”

“Pregnant?” you finished for him, licking your lips excitedly.  “Doesn’t it sound so hot though?  You knocking me up, getting me all nice and full with your baby, ‘cause I’m so young and fertile— and then you can be a real daddy—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spat, sitting back at little on the bed and running his hands over his face in dismay.  “You’re— oh god— I can’t believe this is happening—”

“Calm down, grumpypants,” you scolded with a smile as you sat up and looked at him closer.  “I’m on the pill, haven’t missed one in years.”

Ray’s terrified expression fell into relief and frustration simultaneously.  “Fucking— you could’ve told me that before,” he frowned, dropping his hands to his sides.

“But then I would’ve missed out on your little meltdown,” you laughed proudly.  “You looked cute like that, panicking and thinking you really got me pregnant.”

He watched you get up out of the bed and snag your silk robe from off of a hook on the wall, slipping it on as you walked to the bathroom.  You looked over your shoulder at him as you turned the door’s golden handle, smirking when you saw the dumbfounded look on his face.

“I think I could use a bath,” you explained, “care to join me, big boy?”

The look on his face was that sort of incredulous denial— like he couldn’t believe that you’d ask him that, expecting him to ever want to be near you again after pulling that stunt.  “Are you serious?!” he choked.

“Of course,” you laughed, “I’m not in a joking mood anymore.  Are you coming or not?”

He laughed in bewilderment and looked around for a moment, before sighing in relent.  “Yeah, I am,” he admitted, sliding off the bed to come join you.  You smirked to yourself; these boys are simply too easy.

[konigbabe]

LUCKY PICK

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader Word count: 3.1k Tags/warnings: no y/n; gambling; smut; public sex; pure filth; getting caught; p-in-v; unprotected sex; Toji's a little bit of a meanie; blowjob; pussy slapping (like once) Summary: Toji's frequent presence at the boat races doesn’t go unnoticed by your observant gaze. Every time you see him, however, luck seems to elude him, leaving him on the losing end; until you offer the man assistance in selecting a boat–lucky you, he wins. So he finds a way to thank you properly.

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Amidst the kaleidoscope of social strata, one thing that sticks out for you: his shoes.

While some attendees adorn themselves in lavish, bespoke suits, busy with their own affairs while the events before them serve as a mere backdrop, others, those less fortunate, come in more casual in hopes to earn some quick money.

He, on the other hand, is rather glaring with his choice of clothing. Too casual. Insouciant. Black tracksuit, something more fitting for a morning jog or a workout at the gym. The fabric seems slightly worn, a faint stain on the sleeve. His shoes, however, are the most intriguing part of his ensemble. They stand out. Like a flash of lightning on a stormy night.

In a sea of polished leather and high-end dress shoes, he wears a pair of scuffed, worn flip-flops. It's not just the stark contrast between his flip-flops and the elegant footwear of others that piques your interest. Rather the aura of confidence and a nonchalant demeanor that could easily be mistaken for arrogance.

Even for the outfit, he’s rather handsome. Raven hair tumbling down just to his ears, framing the chiseled planes of his face. The faint scar on the corner of his right lip only adds to the air of mystery surrounding him.

In contrast to the meticulously groomed individuals around him, his appearance carries an air of authenticity. As if he doesn't conform to societal norms but carves his own path instead.

He’s here often. Twice a week. A clockwork of unwavering routine. A regular fixture. Each time, he places his bet on the same number. It’s always three. No regard for any other possibilities. He’s staying the whole day, watches all the races and loses his money. Each and every time.

You stand on the stairs leading to the ticket vending machines, overlooking the racers warm up around the buoy. People passing by until he’s here again. In the same outfit, with the same aura of disregard, detachment.

He passes you as well. A solid wall, going straight, no disregard whether you move out of the way or not. Makes you take a step aside. You know he’s here to lose again. Letting out a grunt, an annoyed huff of air, your voice carries through the loud environment when his bicep brushes your shoulder.

"Here to lose again?"

It makes him stop. Look you dead in the eyes. You can feel the steel behind his eyes as he studies you. Tries to understand why someone like him – a man who’d been losing every race for months – is being confronted by someone like you, someone with nothing more than a passing interest in the track and its races.

For a moment, time seems to slow down as his gaze locks with yours. His eyes, like storm-touched steel, easily likened to polished basalt, peer out from under strong, dark eyebrows. Hooded. Locked onto yours. A thunderous downpour.

He stays silent for solid few seconds. Possibly aiming to intimidate you into leaving him alone. Yet, he fails as you stand tall next to him; not backing down or wilting away under his scrutiny.

"Who says I’m here to lose," he retorts, a touch of defiance in his voice. The hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he studies you, perhaps trying to gauge your intentions.

As you arch an eyebrow, you remark, "I haven’t seen you win yet. You've been betting on the same number, sir, every time I've seen you here. And from what I've observed, you haven't had much luck."

His brows furrow momentarily before he responds with a knowing smirk, matching your aura with his own brand of dry wit.

"Luck has nothing to do with it. Besides, one day, that number will hit."

His confidence is almost infectious, and despite the peculiar choice of his attire and betting strategy, there's an air of genuineness in his words.

"Then why don’t you bet for other numbers," your body pivots to face him, arms crossed over your chest, "try it," you hold your chin high, " buy a place-show, numbers four and six."

To your suggestion of trying other numbers, the man chuckles softly, seemingly amused by the idea, "and why would I do that?"

"You have better odds with the place-show ticket rather than the win ticket," you explain with a shrug, "and if you lose, you’ll have someone else to aim your anger at."

He smirks, nodding thoughtfully as if considering your proposition. "Ah, you're one of those logical types, ain’t ya? Always calculating the odds an’ playing it safe."

You chuckle at the characterization, appreciating his keen observation. "I haven’t lost in a long time. Plus," you blatantly look him up and down, "I have a feeling you could use some luck, and maybe a touch of charm wouldn't hurt either."

He raises an eyebrow, the faint scar on his lip accentuating the mischievous glint in his eye. "Charm, huh? What's in it for you?"

Flashing a grin at his question (it's a valid one, after all), you meet the playful spark in his laden eyes.

"Oh, nothing much," you reply, feigning nonchalance, a familiar mask that you wear to try to stifle the faint tremor of fear, "let’s just say if you win, you’ll owe me a favor."

One moment, you were sitting a few seats next to the man, a winning ticket grasped between your fingers; both watching the race unfold before your eyes.

Next, a subtle, self-assured grin spreads over his face as the winning numbers are announced.

("Would ya’ look a’that.."

"Who would’ve thought…")

And then, flicker in time. You find yourself in an alleyway, still at the stadium and next to a dumpster. Away from the fanfare of the racetrack. A putrid stench of decaying food still in the air overpowered by the potent, heady musk of Toji’s body as the concrete scrapes against your naked knees. Uncomfortable and rough.

Pants lowered down only enough for his cock to spring free; the tip glistening with pearls, a byproduct of his pleasure. Lifting your head slightly, you dip down to kiss the dew away as your hand, wet with precum and spit, moves over his length, pads tracing every curve and ridge.

Lips swollen. Jaw hurting from the tight fit, Toji’s fingers grip the top of your head; urging you to take him in deeper, feel him heave in your mouth. Careless to the fact you should need air. But at this moment, looking up and seeing his eyes already boring into yours, oxygen’s the last thing on your mind.

"That’s it," his husky froan reverberates in your ears as his thumb traces the arch of your eyebrow before his hand cups your cheek, cradles your face, "atta girl."

His words cause heat flooding into your core. A warmth to blossom from deep within. Feeling your heart thudding between your legs, you press your thighs together more. Fingers moving along the exposed, wet slit before pushing one in—

It’s barely a stretch. Disappointing.

—then two.

Letting his cock from your mouth, the sweetness lingering on your tongue as you move the top of your tongue along the underside of his head. Glistening, painfully swollen and painfully red. Hand gliding over the length, thumb pressing onto the sensitive slit, causing a stream of Fuck, Goddamn and your name stream from his bruised lips.

Spit-covered lips trace the underside of his cock, leaving a glossy trail behind. With a trembling breath, he taps your temple.

"Up."

You don’t even register his command before a hand encloses your arm, effortlessly lifting you on your feet.

"Wait," you squeal, a mixture of surprise and trepidation when he crunches down. Putting a hand instinctively on his shoulder to steady yourself, you feel the taut muscle, finely sculpted and responsive to his movements. Fingers gripping your ankle with determined strength; in one deft motion, he liberates your leg from the confines of the pant leg (and carelessly leaves the other be).

For a moment, you feel like a child again – pushed around, a small puppet, being dressed and undressed by another's hands.

It’s all happening too fast yet not swiftly enough.

His lips brush over your dripping core. Gives it a lick. A taste of your sweetness, humming in appreciation when your juices coat his tongue, lips, chin. And when you push your hips into his face, shamelessly chasing the feeling of his tongue – he stands back up. Palm making a benign impact with your swollen core, leaving you gasping from the sudden jolt of pain.

"Maybe ‘nother time," he speaks up. Hand grasping your ankle, resting it against his shoulder, heel digging into his collarbone, foot beside his face. Teeth grace your ankle, the wet tip of his tongue darting to lick a stripe over the fibula. All while his fingers spread the wetness leaking out of you, fingertips tracing your opening, teasing the entrance with his pads.

"Someone’s a lil’ eager."

You feel the blunt press. Too thick for his fingers.

The head of his cock spreads you open. You fight the urge to close your eyes, lean onto the brick wall barely touching your back. Instead, you force your gaze to remain on Toji’s face; his eyes hooded, barely open but piercing through you as he pushes forward. Slowly.

His hips push forward, fighting the resistance as you welcome the feeling. Heart racing, a groan leaves your lips when Toji grips your waist and pulls you onto him. Cock grazing your sensitive walls, you watch his eyes close in a blissful moment momentarily.

A feeling of triumph washes over you – you managed to capture the beast itself in its most vulnerable state.

Then he snaps. Gets impatient. And if it wasn’t for the hand on your waist, you’d certainly lose balance with the raw, almost inhuman strength with which he thrusts into you.

"Ugh—fuck, oh God," eyes closed, you succumb to the feeling; shallow, deep thrusts slowly speeding up, turning into something more resembling a pounding. Savage.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, fingers digging into the fat of your hips before moving upwards, cupping your clothed breast, thumb flicking your erect nipple, "told ya it’s Toji."

It goes like this. You try to steady yourself on one foot, clinging onto Toji’s arms as if he’s your beacon. Mouth agape, you rest your forehead on his collarbone. The hamstring in your leg feels close to ripping apart when his hand slides onto your thigh, providing a reassurance that makes the ache between your legs flare up with ardent fervor.

Toji pulls and pushes — forcing your body to twist, spinning you around to the point where your hands can rest on the wall. One leg’s still on the ground while the other is held against his broad chest. All while his thrusts remain merciless.

He fills you up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your depths, stretching you wider and deeper than before. Shameless squelching filling your ears whenever he bottoms out. Pulls out only halfway, his cock glistening with your juices and his precum when it almost slips free. Coaxing moan after moan from you.

"Damn," he stops, cock buried to the hilt and you feel the pads of his fingers swipe over your clit. Moving down, to the place you two are connected, "feel that?"

Wetness; his fingers dip between your folds, trace your core.

"Look at that."

And you look — wishing that maybe you didn’t. He scissors his fingers before your face, showing off the sticky substance connecting his fingers, glistening in the daylight. Heat shoots up your whole body when his smug face watches your reaction, a sly grin spreading on his lips when a moan comes out of you.

His thrusts come back without warning. Deep. He pulls you back into his cock.

It’s blissful. Euphoric. But painful.

"Can’t," you breath out, feeling close to cramping, "m’not that flexible."

"Oh really," he remarks. Yet, his grasp loosens on your body.

It feels like hours have passed with the way Toji ruts into you. Truly living up to the expectations one would’ve expected from a man his build and reputation.

Bend over, palms flat against the rough surface of the brick wall, Toji relentlessly pounds into you. The spongy head of his cock feels as if it’s breaching the opening of your cervix, mingling pain and pleasure in a confusing mix.

"Hey," a high-pitched voice startles you, Toji’s pelvis kissing the flesh of your ass as he buries himself to the brim, "What you doin’ there?!"

His hand moves from the arch of your back, fingers burning as they trace onto your hip. Squeezing, locking you against him.

"Takin’ a piss," Toji remains unfazed. Voice laced with a subtle hint of boredom while his cock pulsates inside you.

Taking a hand off the wall, you slap it across your mouth. Gentle fear of even your breaths being heard (and it doesn’t matter that you are good ten meters from the passerby).

"The toilets are right over there," the man shouts, making you question whether he’ll take a step toward you.

You’re aware that for a passerby, your figure is hidden behind the dumpster and unless Toji thrusts into you, it would look as if the man is simply relieving himself in the alley. Still fully clothed, only the front of his pants down enough for his cock to be free, one might think he’s telling the truth.

Silence falls onto you, forcing your head to turn to the side. Neck straining, you look over your shoulder – Toji’s unphased, nonchalant demeanor combined with the overly muscular physique visible even with loose clothes on radiates authority. Brutality. His demeanor serene; a tranquil lake at dawn. It would frighten you as well if you weren’t impaled on his cock.

His head lurches to the left, eyes locking onto the poor man's soul with an intense and penetrating gaze. It might be enough to scare the man away. To leave you alone.

That’s when he pulls back. Only an inch, mere centimeters but still enough to thrust back with rough intent. Body jolting forward, a surprised yelp gets muffled by your hand. Heat ripples through you.

He’s shameful, you realize. Salacious with his indecency.

The corners of his lips turn upward. Not enough for the passersby to see but from your point of view, it only fuels the sadistic image of the man behind you. The man whose cock keeps massaging your walls with shallow, almost non-existent thrusts.

How dare he.

"Whatever."

Loud footsteps echo through the alley before Toji’s fingers curl around your nape and he yanks. Hand pushing against the lower of your back, the other moving to the side of your neck as he twists your body into his own, pliant toy. Into a position he desires.

"Damn–," he breaths against the hairs on the back of your neck, chill breath washing over the shivering area, "does that turn ya’ on? Being watched?"

He pulls back at a leisurely pace. Unhurried. In and out.

"Fucked dumb on my dick–"

In and out.

"–while some loser watches your drippin’ cunt soak me."

Hitting that sweet, sensitive but delicate spot deep inside you; that even your fingers cannot reach. The one that makes you see stars, feel the heat in your core spread.

"Shut up," you basically snarl, pushing your ass into his crotch with fervor, forcing him deeper, causing his breath to hitch with his lips brushing over your burning skin, "shut up."

He chuckles at that. Licks a stripe over your shoulder. Moves to the side of your neck before his teeth sink into the earlobe, tugging.

"Could feel you squeezin’ me back then," the hand on the side of your neck inches forward; now resting firmly against the front of your neck, a silent reminder of the power it wields. The pressure is gentle but firm, a subtle yet unmistakable display of control. All while Toji matches your rhythm, thrusting at a pace that gets you closer to the sweet abyss.

Your hand moves from the wall, slides over the curve of your belly and find its place between your legs.

"Close ‘em," Toji’s thrusts grow in intensity. Forcing your body forward – to prevent falling, his hand on your back moves to rest against the wall, trapping your delicate hand underneath the roughness of his palm, the other holding you close by the neck.

"Ugh–wh–what," you barely breathe out, legs straining to keep the pace as the heat spreads.

"Your legs. Close ‘em."

And you do. Pushing your thighs together, a whole new sensation surges through your body as his cock fills you up. And it seems Toji feels the same by the way your name leaves his lips in a heavy groan, forehead resting against the crown of your head.

"Fuck yeah," he sighs, palm kneading the flesh of your ass. He’s pushing his hips against yours. Pulls you back into him with fingers itching to your aching nub. Finger flicking over it, making you shudder and moans to grow louder.

The coil in your abdomen grows tighter with each flick of his finger, kiss of his cock. Breath catching in your throat, you push back against Toji when the searing bliss washes over you.

He fucks you through it all.

"Gonna cum," you feel him thicken, pulse inside you. Hips stuttering, speeding and growing in intensity as he chases his own high.

"Not inside," you don’t struggle. Let him absolutely destroy you.

And he listens. Gives you few more fucks before he pulls out. Fists his cock, eyes watching your dripping, swollen pussy before you feel the sticky globes land on your core, slide down your clenching thighs.

He groans behind you. Hand resting on top of your ass, thumb caressing the skin there as you try to catch your breath. All while the man seems only slightly fazed by all the fucking. Makes you feel weak, pathetic — looking like you’d done a full workout while he’s standing behind you.

You stand back up. Wipe the cum off with a tissue you dig from your bag before pulling your pants back up, breath still slightly labored.

"Was this what I owed you?"

He fixes his pants, adjusting the waistband to hug the defined muscles of his lower abdomen, fleshing you his happy trail.

You shake your head to which his eyes narrow softly, "I want to hire you, Mr Fushiguro," hands fixing the mess on top of your head, you turn your back to The Sorcerer Killer, "take the win as your upfront payment."

[thepaperpanda]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 5 - An Aggressive Gentleness || Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Everyone knows Hangman is good, but you'll have a chance to discover that he simultaneously has a bit of a persuasive streak as well.

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v, spanking)

Word count: 2325

Author: Rouge

A/N: the the prompt for today is: Spanking

Jake "Hangman" Seresin was one of the world's greatest and most successful pilots. He was a known womanizer, and he had as many downed planes as broken hearts among all the women he dated.

Yet, ever since you joined his team, he couldn't take his gaze away from you; you were not only a beautiful, young woman, but you also had a strong personality.

"I know there's a big age gap between you and me, Y/N," he said as the two of you finished the bottle of red wine that night, sitting together on the pier over the ocean. "But I really want to take you out. Would you be interested in having dinner with me one evening?" 

As a result, you both agreed to meet for dinner a few days later.

Despite your expectations, the dinner ended up being much more enjoyable than you expected. It sounded too good to be true. You teased, playing with your glass, "Maybe Hangman isn't such an asshole as everyone thinks."

You could feel his knee against yours under the table as you sat there staring and smiling at each other, your hand in his.

Of course, it could have been an accident at first, but when it returned, went away, and then returned again, all doubt was removed. It was done on purpose as a signal, a kind of request, to emphasize the request for a date. Again, perhaps a little old-fashioned, but extremely intimate and alluring.

Jake let out a little sigh, observing your face carefully as he said, "Don't judge a book by its cover."

"If I didn't interact with you on a daily basis and while on duty, I'd say you're an asshole," you concluded, scrunching your face. "You are charming, but you are a total asshole. However, I don't regret our dinner together."

Jake was certain he knew the game because he'd played it before; he was obviously used to dealing with stroppy little bitches like you. He was well aware of what you were doing and what you were up to. He seemed to be able to read you, understand what you were thinking.

He kept gently rubbing your palm and pressing his knee firmly against yours as he looked you in the eyes. "You have the most enticing eyes, Y/N," he murmured as he gazed deep into them.

A cocky smile spread across your face as you made a small yhym sound and rested your chin on your palm. "Just like the last girl, I'm sure." 

Since it wasn't the first time you heard those sweet words, you already knew what they meant. This was a popular saying among guys as if it were a kind of spell.

"I can see through your eyes that you are a passionate, intense woman. A woman who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. I notice a lot about you." As he accelerated, his foot landed on yours and ran up the side of your calf. You were his type, there was no doubt. This became especially apparent when his knee pressed firmly against your closed knees at first, then even more so after a moment or two.

You sighed heavily and decided to stop him. "I have to be honest with you - sweet nothings don't appeal to me at all. I've heard these things too many times to believe them."

Jake drew your hand to his lips. "Come to my flat, Y/N, and let me love you there," he said as he licked the back of your hand and looked you in the eyes.

“If you stop acting so weirdly sweet, I'll go with you."

Jake gave you a brief nod in response.

You took a cab to his apartment. It was a second-floor walk-up flat in a fairly large town house, nicely furnished in that fading elegant style that appeals to the well-to-do and aristocracy.

Hangman turned on one lamp but not the others. The street lights cast a nice, dim, romantic glow on the large lounge. He made no pretense that this was anything other than a sexual encounter. He didn't make small talk, offer you a drink, or request that you sit. None of that was necessary; he and you both knew it. You were there for one and only one reason - to have sex.

As Jake kissed you passionately, he took you in his arms. There was no preamble or asking permission; it was a wonderful kiss. As he held you tight, he moulded your bodies together and his lips found yours. While your lips touched, your mouths were closed, but as you pressed them together they slowly opened. As he licked your lips, he ran his tongue along your gums, over your teeth and into your mouth. Unlike the Hangman everyone used to know, he was patient, slow, methodical, and amazingly erotic. You could feel Hangman's hands running up and down your back.His hands fiddled with your bra strap, the waistband of your short denim skirt, which was just a whisker below your pubis line and the top of your bum crease, and the hem of the white, loose, short-sleeved top. 

Jake took your hand and led you to his bedroom.

The room was quite small, but it had a double bed. Although it was dim, you could still see each other. Standing beside the bed, Jake held your hand as you faced each other. Bringing your palm up to his mouth, he kissed its top; he took one of your fingers and softly sucked it, earning a moan from you.

You didn't speak, you'd gone beyond words, they simply weren't needed.

It wasn't long before Jake let go of your hand and stepped back a few feet. With his eyes glistening in the dim light flowing in the room from a streetlamp, he began undoing the button of his heavy, cotton, khaki shirt. Having fully undone his shirt, his fingers were now undoing his leather pleated belt. He was so confident and so assured, which you found very sexy and enchanting. Still, he didn't take his eyes off of you. “You’re so fucking pretty, Y/N.”

Reaching downwards, you grasped the hem of your top. You saw approval in his eyes as his belt came undone and he slowly pushed his zip down. Between the opened edges of his shirt, you could see that his chest was toned and muscular.

You both dropped your tops as if on cue. Jake's eyes wandered over your chest, focusing more and more on your round breasts, almost making you squirm with desire. Through Jake's masterful gaze, you became more receptive to his unspoken persuasions.

The silence was broken by Jake. His erection was evident and clear and gave him absolutely no embarrassment whatsoever. As you dropped your bra, he sighed, "You're so fucking hot, Y/N. What are you waiting for? Go on."

Undoing the brass button on the skirt, you slid the short zip down. The skirt slid down your legs as you wriggled it over your bum and hips. A surge of high-octane arousal surged through you when you looked into Hangman's hungry eyes. You soon pushed your panties down your legs as well.

As Jake took off his boxer shorts, his hardened erection rested proudly against his well-built abdomen.

Seresin reached for your hand, the one holding your panties, as you stood completely naked in front of him. He gently pulled them away from you. His eyes bore deep into yours as he rubbed his nose on the gusset, taking deep breaths as he did so, making animalistic noises at the same time. After that, he used your panties in a rather extravagant manner, rubbing them around his balls and up and down his erection without any embarrassment at all. As if to say don't you dare complain, he stared intently into your eyes before cupping his balls in your panties and rolling them around before pushing the silky underwear back across his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to him, pressing himself against you, moulding your bodies into one. As he cupped your round bum in his strong hands, his cock squirmed against you. Jake squeezed and kneaded your buttocks all the while kissing you hungrily; he stroked your bum, pinched it, rubbed it, and caressed it.

As you got your hand between your bodies, your fingers tingled with desire as they ran up and down his erection. It was everything an erection should be; hard, warm, smooth and slightly throbbing. 

You then went to bed.

Jake carefully positioned you on your front and laid beside you. The hand that wasn't tugging your hair had slipped down your back and reached your bum. He stroked it and squeezed it. Jake whispered, "You have the most glorious arse I've ever seen," as he stroked it softly. All he had done when you were standing beside the bed was repeated, but he now focused more on your cheeks. After easing your legs apart, he parted your bottom's cheeks. He spent ages running his fingers up and down that sensual groove, on, over and past your extra sensitive entrance to your anus, on the base of your spine in one direction and into your fully soaked pussy in the other.

All hell broke loose within your body and mind. You could not help but notice as your body shook with the various sensations that you were cumming without any form of penetration, without your sensitive clit being rubbed or your pussy's lips being stroked. “Jake!” You managed to whimper loudly, nuzzling your face into one of his pillows.

Jake smacked your bottom several times. Not that hard and not that much, but enough to make your bum sting and for you to recognise what he was doing. Nevertheless, the combination of the pain from him pulling your hair, the stinging from where he'd spanked your bottom and the pleasure he was giving you with his fingers made you cum, very heavily indeed.

You hadn't even finished your orgasm fully when Hangman turned you over. After what he'd just done to you, your pussy was still tender, and your breasts and nipples were still pulsating. As he moved up and held his cock against your lips, you willingly opened your arms and wrapped them around his hips. 

The moment he bucked his hips, forcing his dick completely into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around his rock-hard erection, gagging yourself.

Jake's hand hit your bottom quite hard, so much so that it jerked your head from his cock as Hangman turned you to your side a little, to gain better access to your bum. In a matter of seconds, he hit you twice. 

Putting his cock back in your mouth, you grunted. Each thwack and smack was probably harder than the last. He spread them over both cheeks. Pumping his girth in and out of your mouth, you gagged, reaching out to massage his balls.

Jake grunted lowly as he hardened. Seresin hit you several more times after he realized you weren't opposed to what he had been doing. Now he was doing it harder, and it was stinging, but not too painful. It was amazing to see that each time he smacked your ass, and since he'd found a sort of rhythm, his cock began to jerk inside your mouth. His hardening and growth increased with each smack. “Fuck, look what you’re doing to me,” he grunted, taking a fistful of Y/H/C hair, tugging on it a little. He was now spanking you with a steady series of blows that covered every inch of each cheek and occasionally drifted down to your thighs. Between each blow, his hand gently fondled your asscheek. 

With that gentleness combined with the aggression of the spanking, you experienced sensations you hadn't felt before. While Hangman grunted and groaned and mumbled how wonderful you were and what a magnificent bottom you had, you sighed and moaned at the pleasure you were receiving, taking his cock out of your mouth with a loud pop sound.

Jake then fucked you. Straightforward, you on your back, him on top, your legs wide open and wrapped around him. Jake’s thrusts were fast and strong; his bed was swinging with each of them. It was quite quick and hard. Like the expert he was turning out to be, he didn't offer or ask for more foreplay. After what Jake had gone on so far there was no need for more and he seemed to be acutely aware of that. He didn't need to get you wet and you didn't need to get him hard, what you'd been doing for the past half hour or so had done both of those necessities. 

“Fuck!” You screamed, digging your nails into his back, rolling your head back on his pillow. “Fuck you, Hangman! You’re so fucking good!”

“I’m good, Y/N,” Jake grunted into your ear, instantly turning his head to suck hardly on your exposed neck. “I’m very fucking good.” You were obviously soaked and your lips were bloated from the blood that rushed to them during the previous orgasms. No complaints, just a straightforward hard and fast fuck and that, to be honest, was what you truly wanted. 

After cumming together, Jake laid on top of you, pinning you to the mattress with his weight, then rubbed your cheeks and neck with his kisses. “Do you want to stay for the night?” He asked simply, rubbing his nose against yours.

Nodding to him, you slipped your hands into his hair and massaged his scalp. "Yes."

Despite his nakedness, Jake kissed you one last time before getting up from the bed. "I'll bring a pillow and towel for you."

As his thick, sticky cum ran down your inner thighs, you rubbed them together and bit your lower lip. You definitely had the best fuck of your life.

[v-velvetykisscs]

Backstabber

ghostface! rafe cameron x you 

SUMMARY:  in which the outer banks’ masked killer “Ghostface” reveals himself to be rafe cameron, your boyfriend. you discover his secret and confront him and threaten to call the cops on him but he seems to have another idea in mind.  

WARNINGS: strong language, emotional abuse, violence, gore, death, toxic relationship, depictions of murder, angst, kidnapping. 

NOTE: this is my first rafe fanfic, hope you like it ! ♡

“Here are the latest news report on the OBX’s masked killer going under the pseudonym of Ghostface, taken from the titular murderer in the famous horror movie franchise ‘Scream’. Local authorities seem to have concluded that the homicidal criminal is targeting residents from the south side of Kildare Island for reasons which are presently unclear. The Kildare County Department also urges everyone to continue following the curfew put in place and to report anything out of place immediately to police.” 

You scrunched your eyebrows deeply as you listened in to the update given by the news anchor lady who spoke monotonously, her voice steady and her eyes flickering back and forth on the screen as she read the script in front of her eyes, delivering chilling piece of news in a tone devoid of emotion. 

You shuddered as your mind drifted to the thought of corpses of residents from The Cut, glazed eyes unblinking, the colour drained from their dirtied bronze faces blistered by the sun, darkened blood matting at the beginning of their foreheads, gashes entrenched deep into torn up flesh.

Shaking the unnerving image out of your brain, you relaxed further into Rafe’s colossal; firm chest, a hand rested on top of his torso, over the thin fabric of his white v-necked shirt, feeling the defined muscles underneath, picturing his figure as sculpted as a greek god marble statue, muscles flexing and thin veins tracing a path over his tanned hands up to his broad shoulders. You let your head slip further down his chest, listening to the drumming of his heart. The sounds from the news report on the large TV framing the elegant green plaster on the walls of the Cameron boy’s living room stopped abruptly. Blinking through thick eyelashes and heavy lids you looked into Rafe’s orbs: slate outer rings lined the teal hue of his irises, fading into dilated black pupils fixed you intently, his eyebrows perfectly symmetrical and straight, his lips drawn in a thin line as his line of vision was pulled down to your puffy lips then back up to your face, his own alluring features a hair’s width from merging with your own. Retracting his face from yours he grinned at you, cupping your cheek. His buttery soft fingers running the length of your cheek, coldness from the fat, golden ring around his thumb grazing your skin. He placed the TV remote onto the glass table in front of the couch, with his free hand. Remaining focused on your worried expression again, the tip of his thumb ghosting over your red lips. “I’ll protect you from this monster, I promise.” 

You placed a warm hand that had been buried underneath the blanket draped over both of your lower bodies over his chilly palm.

“I just can’t believe some sicko is roaming these streets, terrorising people from over at The Cut. I mean those dudes are pretty harmless to say the least-” You admitted, wholeheartedly.

Rafe’s eyebrows knit together at your words, ogling you silently before interrupting you unexpectedly.

“Those people are thieves and abusers, they take whatever they want from us for their own twisted enjoyment. If you ask me, they’re only getting what they deserve.”

His voice was loud and gritting, spitting out the words “thieves” and “abusers” like they’re venom on his tongue. You perked up from your position, withdrawing yourself from the warmth radiating for Rafe’s body taken aback by his accusatory and judgemental tone. You knew about the way that Rafe felt about people around The Cut and always tried to convince him to see them otherwise but what he’s just suggested felt like a little too much. You knew that Rafe had always been vexed by the rogue, free-spirited Pogues, much more now that his sister was involved with them but you never thought his dislike for the less fortunate outside of Figure Eight to run so deeply.

“Nobody deserves a knife in the back Rafe”, you retorted.

There was a long pause as you waited for him to respond, the glare he gave you pinned you in your spot. His lips twitched to turn upwards into a crooked smile, eyes flashing bright momentarily, revealing a hint of something deeper impenetrable and unfamiliar to you. His eyelids squinted back down as he eyeballed from one of your eyes to your lips then back up to your other eye in a triangular manner. His hands glided over the blanket to lay behind your seated smaller frame, his forehead against yours. He moved a strand of your hair behind your ear and whispered,

“Maybe you’re right.”

Rafe smashed his lips onto yours with fervent passion melting into sheer roughness as he gripped your hair back, eliciting a moan from your lips which he used to grant himself entrance into your mouth. Tracing his tongue over yours, he left a translucent web of saliva trailing down your mouth, going back in to bite your bottom lip softly, tugging at it sensually. His lean and tall frame slithered in between your open legs, hovering over your flushed body.

Despite the pleasure and excitement beginning to pool between your legs, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking back to the unrecognisable look that flashed through his aquamarine-coloured eyes. He was acting off, way off.

Rafe peppered a careful; meticulate trail of kisses from the outer corner of your mouth and across your jawline, rounding his swollen lips around the tender spot on your neck when you gently pressed your hands against his chest. You searched for an excuse but your brain was muddled, as tangled as wires, your nerves worsening as you observed the expression of confusion and hint of disappointment on his face.

“I need a shower. If that’s okay with you?” you asked hesitantly, in truth you had felt like your skin was slightly grimy and sticky but hoped that he would buy this. 

He smiled softly, tracing a finger along the line of your collarbone, his eyes flicking down to the exposed flesh and back to your eyes, his lids half open and a lustful smirk growing onto his mouth, his dimples appearing on either sides. 

“Of course baby, take your time.” he replied instantly.

You nodded, getting up slowly and gave him one long look before going around the sofa and up the stairs behind it, leading to the rest of the floors within his majestic mansion house. Your feet padded against the floorboards of the wooden staircase, a hand on the banister as small creaks resounded with your every step. You mount the last stair, arriving on the second floor and walk across to the white door leading into Rafe’s room. You close the door soundlessly and lock it, pacing to the ensuite bathroom in his expansious bedroom. You turned the shower knob briskly and turned around to walk back in the bedroom, your eyes darting around the monotonous room. No paintings hung from the blue venetian walls and there were near to no decorations. Only a solid mahogany dresser, a teak bedside table next to a king’s sized bed, decorated in white and light blue satin pillowcases and a grey fur blanket draped over the white undersheets; a bookshelf stripped to only a few books. You dash across the room to the dresser and open one of the drawers fumbling around for anything wedged between his clothes and desperately trying to put things back in the way they were. 

Skimming through the next two, you close the drawers looking under the teak little table and press your face onto the floorboards, squinting at the darkness under Rafe’s bed, you put your hand out to feel under but there is nothing concealed under it. Wiping the dust off on your washed out denim short shorts you go for the bookshelf last, sliding the glass pane protecting the books open. You open the few books there are one by one until your fingers take hold of a hard paper back. You open it to see a rectangular hole has been cut through the pages and within it a sealed plastic pouch filled with white powder sits. You take it out to inspect it, your heartbeat quickening and face becoming flush with anger.  You placed the book back onto the shelf and stalk across the room loudly, your footsteps resounding, you nearly slip on a floorboard. 

A loose floorboard.

Your eyes slip down to the plank underneath your naked foot and see that it is wriggling. You bend down, sinking your fingers down onto the gap and sliding it off with force. It budges slightly and dislodges off. 

The hairs on the nape of your neck and arms stand erect as you feel the colour slip away from your face and your heart drop straight into your stomach.

 Trembling, you pick up the mask up and bring it up into your hands. 

The doorknob rattles, making you flinch suddenly. 

“Baby are you alright in there?” Rafe’s voice from outside asks loudly, his voice laced with worry.

Instinctively, you respond in a dulcet tone. 

“I’m fine!”

“Will you please let me in?” the golden doorknob rattles more feverously than before, instantly giving away his desperation. 

You silently place the floorboard back in its place after putting the evidence back in - reassuring yourself you would come back to take it - and crane your head up to look at the window besides his bed. It’s too high to try and make the jump and you have nothing to use to make a makeshift rope. 

You’re left with no other choice. In a mock sweet tone you shout back at him.

“Coming!”

You rush across into the bathroom, opening the cabinet behind the mirror above the sink, grabbing the vintage cut throat razor on the shelf. You grip it tightly behind you, your knuckles turning white around the wooden handle, slipping it into the back pocket of your shorts, covering the shining silver edge by pulling your tube top over the blade. You breathed in shakily before twisting the doorknob and being face to face with a worried looking Rafe, his brows and corners of his mouth frowned. 

“Are you okay? I heard some loud banging noises in there.”

“I’m okay.” you assured.

“I just slipped and sort of twisted my ankle” his eyes flashed with concern at hearing your lie.

“Let me take a look at it” he offered immediately, guiding you to walk over to his bed. You sat as steadily as you could manage and let him bend onto his knees. Inhaling deeply with a fake wince you watched as he held your ankle in his large hands, caressing the skin.

“I don’t see what-”

In an instant, you had him pinned on the spot with the sharp edge of the razor blade pressed lightly against his neck. His eyes instantly gazed down at it and up at your face with a look of horror as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. His neck craned up to look at you at an awkward angle as you scowled at him. 

“You murdered those innocent people.” your voice was trembling and accusatory as you loudly sermoned him. You hesitated as you admitted your thought. 

“I’m going to tell the cops.”

His eyes pooled with unshed tears, threatening to cascade the length of his narrow cheeks. He blinked, a tear meandering down to the corner of his mouth as he nodded as subtly as he could, aware that if he moved any more the blade would nick his perfect skin. His face contorted slowly into a sneer and he chuckled silently at your daring attitude, as he stood up from his position on the floor between your legs, forcing you to stand with him carefully. Despite learning of his real nature, you couldn’t help but be afraid of truly hurting him despite the warning the cold edge of the blade on the flesh of his neck held. Deftly plucking the makeshift weapon out of your hand he discarded it onto the furthest side of the room, out of reach as he gripped your wrists tightly, making you howl in pain as you twisted over as he pulled you down. 

“I was hoping you’d never have to find out.”

You wriggled your hands around Rafe’s, finding the weak point in his grip and tugging at the space in between his hard thumb and index finger clutching onto your hand and tugged again, freeing yourself from his strong grip.  You elbowed his face and ran for the door, throwing it open.

“Bitch!” He screams.

“Y/N! Get back here!” he implored with a raspy shout. 

 He recovers quickly and as you bolted across the corridor before he gripped your ankle causing you to tumble over onto the hard floor, your hands flying to cover your face. Shifting around to face him, slowly climbing the length of your leg you shook him off frantically like he was a venomous python on you and kicked the side of his thigh which destabilised him off you for a fraction of a second giving you the chance to spring up from the floor and down the stairs, through to the kitchen. You slid on the marble flooring, scrambling to get to the kitchen island and unsheathed a kitchen knife from the wooden block and turned just in time to see Rafe standing over you, you yelped out and recoiled quickly, creating as much distance as you could from him. He approached you slowly, raising his hands slowly in front of him as if to show you that he was unarmed and to prove that he didn’t mean to hurt you. Unfazed by his silent reassurance you backed up until you hit the edge of the counter your knife pointed out toward him in warning.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just stay away from me.” you begged desperately bargaining to make him let you go unscathed. He hushed you slowly with a repeated shh sound, subconsciously coaxing your body to relax into his familiarity.

“It’s okay, I know.” , he whispered, ghosting his fingertips over the top of your hair, picking up a strand delicately.

“I know you won’t.”

Those were the last words you heard from him before a brute force came flying onto the side of your temple, knocking you off your feet as your vision turned black. 

[auroraescritora]

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER X

Hi, how are you? Just in time, huh? I'm trying not to split up the story too much. So, I hope it's acceptable. Feedback is always good.

Enjoy it!

Previous chapters: CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / CHAPTER III / CHAPTER IV / CHAPTER V / CHAPTER VI / CHAPTER VII / CHAPTER VIII / CHAPTER IX

"Are you ready? I didn't tell you we were coming." Percy took his hand and pulled him out of the car.

Nico couldn't believe he was back in the house where his best memories were made. This was the house of his childhood, the place where he had discovered that love and affection were still possible after his mother death. It was the place where Nico had discovered that love could come in many shapes and sizes and be expressed in simple or complicated ways.

"Maybe we should come back later?”

"She'll be happy to see you.”

"Are you sure?”

"Nico, this is your home too. It always will be.”

Nico had to take a deep breath, stopping in front of the front door. He felt so guilty! Percy wasn't the only person he had left behind. Sally had also been one of them. His second mother, the person he could tell everything after Percy, always offering him a tight hug and an open kitchen.

"Percy, I--”

"Shhh." Percy held his hand, smiled at him and finally pushed open the door of the house, leading him inside. "Mom! We're here!”

It didn't take long. Soon they could both hear the sound of heels on the white granite floor, and appearing from one of the doors that Nico knew to be in the kitchen, Sally came almost running and with so much energy that for a moment Nico saw himself in the past, the first time he had come through that same door, seeing the simple but elegant decor. Cream-colored sofas, almost white blue walls, puffs and blankets scattered around the room and a large television. The smell was the same, the same fragrance of freshly made food, sweet and sour, making him smile immediately.

"Nico, my son." That was all he heard before Sally's attack came, thin, strong arms encircled him and long, dark brown hair fell over him, Sally's perfume was still the same.

"Gods, look how much you've grown! And those cheeks, hm? So pretty.”

"Mom!”

"Percy, look at him. Have you sorted yourselves out? I hope so! You've been gone for three days! That's the least I can hope for.”

"Sally." Nico finally said, smiling, and leaned towards her, receiving another hug from Sally with pleasure.

"I can't believe I'm getting my assistant back! Our menu has suffered with you gone. How about we discuss it tomorrow? Are you staying with us today? What a question! Of course you are.”

Sally took his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen and Nico looked back, seeing Percy shrug. He knew it would take time for Sally to grow tired of him now. And as the saying goes, "like mother, like son", or something like that. And since there was no point in fighting with any of the Jacksons, Nico let himself be carried away by Sally, not that he minded; it was always fun to spend a few hours in Sally Jackson's company, delicious food, relaxed conversation and a friendly shoulder to vent on.

***

It had been a long time since Percy had walked the streets of his neighborhood. They weren't what they used to be, from quiet and humble to full of tall buildings and noisy cars due to the subway line located a few blocks from his house. The good thing about all this was that now there was a store or a market, or even a shopping center, on practically every corner. Which was exactly what he was looking for. Walking nonchalantly, Percy went straight to a stationery store and soon found what he was searching for, a dark leather journal with a delicate and beautiful appearance, just like Nico. 

He paid for it, walked around the mall and found himself standing in front of a familiar Jewelry store, remembering going into that place years ago and buying something special, but never going through with his plan. Now, a few hours later, he was on his way home. Imagine his surprise when his mother's helpers came in with bags after bags of food and pots and pans. Percy wasn't even surprised anymore. In fact, it was a familiar sight, but one he hadn't seen since Nico had left, the house full and the scent of sweets and snacks permeating the air.

Well, it looked like his present would have to wait.

Without being seen, he went to his room, left the bag on the bed and opened the first drawer of the dresser, finding the rings he had bought. Could this be the moment he had been waiting for? After all, they had already made it clear that they loved each other, so why not take the next step? He had learned that the best thing to do was never to assume anything, and if he didn't speak up, how would Nico know? Percy couldn't wait to see Nico's reaction.

So, exchanging the rings for the diary, he took the box with the rings and put the diary in the drawer, feeling confident. Percy left the bedroom and headed towards the kitchen, almost running into a girl wearing an apron from his mother's restaurant. She apologized and hurried out of the house, without the usual flattery. He hoped this one would last longer than the others. It wasn't that his mother was a bad boss, the problem was that most people didn't have the same enthusiasm as she or Nico had when it came to cooking.

Percy finally entered the kitchen and was faced with a full feast. He saw roasted, fried and boiled meats, grains and pasta of all kinds, not to mention sweets and salty foods that weren't all that healthy.

“Are we having a gala dinner or what?" He had to ask as soon as he entered the kitchen. It was kind of funny. Sally and Nico were there, along with several helpers, covered in flour and other things Percy couldn't identify, all wearing identical aprons and moving around in such an organized way that they looked like worker ants.

"You're right, darling!" His mother exclaimed. She wiped her hand on a towel, as energetic as he'd seen her in a long time, or at least not at this "child who ate too much sugar" level, and hugged him tightly, before walking back into the kitchen to check the oven and make sure everything was in order. "Call your friends! Call your friends' friends. No, better yet, call your friends' parents too.”

Percy wasn't sure about that. Did he even still has that many friends left? Percy shrugged, about to do what his mother had asked when Nico appeared in front of him, trying to find a place to put some sort of whitish cake on the table.

"I will help you.”

Percy moved some things around and finally found a space, taking the dish from Nico's hands and placing it on the counter.

"Here's my baby. Where have you been?”

"I'm not your baby.”

“ You are not?”

Was now a good time? No matter how Nico was dressed, in his school uniform or in his tight pants, and even now with flour from head to toe, Nico would always be the prettiest and cutest thing Percy would ever see, especially when he tried not to be embarrassed by this public display of affection.

Percy put his hand in his pocket, touched the box and watched for a moment, seeing Nico lower his head, his black hair protected by a hairnet, allowing him to see the blush spreading strongly across his dark face and down his long, elegant neck. Percy didn't hold back, he grabbed the back of Nico's neck and pulled him close, kissed him slowly and longingly, and only stopped when he heard a moan and the sudden silence that followed; the murmurs around them stopped and so did the sound of banging pots and pans.

"Per," Nico whispered in an almost non-existent voice and grabbed his arm, his face now on fire. So shy and so sweet, Percy could feel the sugar on Nico's tongue and the sweetness in his gentle touch. 

But just when he thought Nico would pull away, as he often had in the past, Nico just stood there, clinging to his arm, looking at him without knowing what to do. Maybe this wasn't the right moment, because if Nico had reacted like this to just one kiss, caught off guard and all anxious, what would Nico do if he got down on one knee in the middle of the kitchen? 

Unfortunately, when something like that used to happen, Nico wouldn’t know what to do. He would freeze from head to toe, and as if he had no script for this kind of situation, Nico rather do nothing for fear of making a mistake.

"Beautiful. Give me a hug, hm?”

Nico blinked slowly and bit his lips, looking unsure. In the end, Nico did as Percy asked. He put his arms around Percy's waist and hugged him tightly for a long moment, hiding his face against his neck, Percy hugged him back and stroked Nico's long hair, comforting him.

"Right.” Percy raised his head and, still hugging Nico, looked around at each of his mother's helpers, which had the desired effect.

Everyone began to move as one and the atmosphere returned to normal. He thought about apologizing to Nico, but the thought of Nico understanding that kissing him in front of other people was wrong made his stomach churn. Nico was a very perceptive being, and if he understood that he was doing something wrong, Nico would never do it again, like the time they were talking to some people, Nico laughed too loudly and someone scolded him, after that, it took him months to see Nico smiling in public.

"What you got for me?”

"Have you ever had Japanese cake?" Nico seemed relieved by the change of subject and let go of his waist. He took Percy's hand and led him to a light, spongy cake, unlike anything he had ever eaten.

Nico cut off a piece and put it on a plate for him. As soon as he took a bite, the cake melted on his tongue, something so delicious that Percy couldn't explain it, so he just moaned, closing his eyes in pleasure.

"That good?”

"Everything my baby does is exemplary.”

"Thank you.”

Percy stopped eating and paid attention to Nico. In fact, he stopped and watched him. Nico looked happy and content in his apron and flour-stained clothes. He looked like a little chef, proud of a job well done.

"I saw it in a restaurant in Verona and wanted to try it.”

"Beautiful.”

"You should study cooking." This time it was Sally who spoke, finishing a chocolate tart and watching them discreetly. She approached them and put one of her hands on Nico's shoulders. "Have you thought about it?”

***

"You should study cooking. Have you thought about it?”

Nico blinked slowly, trying to concentrate on anything other than the way Percy was looking at him, who almost missed the moment when Sally approached the corner where they were standing.

"Hm?”

"Have you decided on your graduation course?”

"Ah." Nico glanced at Percy out of the corner of his eye, but focused on Sally. "I don't know. Hades wants me to do administration.”

"Why not something you're talented at? Like music or cooking? Arts?”

"I... I'd like that very much. I don't know if Hades would allow it.”

"You know, the other day this nice, polite man brought his family over for dinner. He said that the place where he works has an excellent cooking course." Nico took a good look at Sally, trying to figure out what that meant. "Why don't you do a double degree? I have his contact if you're interested.”

"It's also close to home." Percy added.

Nico stopped everything and leaned on the edge of the bench, trying not to get his hopes up.

"I couldn't.”

"Darling, you don't have to worry about the details. Have a look, will you? I'll take care of everything.”

"No, Sally. You don't have to... I never--”

"It’s okay, darling. Money is not a problem." Then Sally smiled at him all radiant and caught him off guard once again, hugging him tightly. "No matter what you choose. We'll support you, now and always.”

"Oh." It was all that escaped his throat, a choked, muffled sound against Sally's shoulder. His vision blurred, and his throat tightened, but his heart beat strongly, a delicious warmth heating his chest as Percy's hands touched his shoulders, embracing him and Sally at once.

"Mom is right. We'll support you no matter what, even if I have to go to Italy with you.”

"Did you plan this? To surprise me and not let me think about it?”

"Nico, of course not, silly!" Sally exclaimed energetically and grabbed his shoulders, her big light brown eyes hitting him right in the middle of the chest. "Percy did some vocational and aptitude tests last year and since then we've been looking for the best options. You have to do them too, they're pretty accurate. Does next week sound good? Ah, we have so much to do!”

And so, as if talking about his future was something ordinary, Sally  continued again, mixing something in a large glass pot with a spatula.

"That's right, then. College decided. Will we have a wedding?”

"Wedding?”

"Of course! The sooner we set the date, the better! What about a house? You'll be near us, right? And... Percy didn’t talk to you yet?”

Nico didn't know if he was ready for such a big step, he didn't even know if he could finish high school without self-destructing himself, let alone… marriage.

"Mom!" Percy grumbled. "She's joking. Don't listen to what she says.”

It was Percy who said it, but his gaze was intense on him, thoughtful and analytical. And... maybe... maybe Sally wasn't joking,  if it were for the disappointed expression on Percy's face.

"Since when have you been planning these things? “

"Since…”

"Since when?”

"Ever since I realized that waking up next to you was the best part of my day.”

Nico thought there was something strange in his eyes, they wouldn't stop watering. It must have been sinusitis. Yes, that was it. Maybe an allergy.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Percy insisted, and suddenly the world disappeared and only the two of them mattered; the sound of banging pots and whispers disappeared, even the hurried murmurs around them vanished.

"What was I supposed to say? Are you asking me to marry you?”

This was the best and worst moment of his life. Percy smiled at him and reached into his pocket, pulling out a delicate velvet box. And then, the worst came, Percy knelt down on the floor full of flour and sugar, and opened the box, showing him that inside were two identical gold-plated rings with a small diamond in the center, one large and the other smaller, with delicate engravings around the rings, the rings so delicate that Nico was afraid to touch them.

"You can't be serious!”

"I bought them before you ran away to Italy. I wish I'd told you sooner. I was afraid it would drive you away again.”

And without asking permission, Percy took hia hand and slid the smallest of the rings onto the ring finger of Nico’s right hand.

"This ring is proof of my commitment and fidelity to you. It's my promise to always be by your side and to always give you whatever you need and want. No matter what or where.”

"Percy, stop it! Right now! You don't want this." Nico pulled away from Percy's hands and tried to take the ring off, feeling anxious, but he couldn't get it off. Something inside him stopped Nico.

"Of course I want it. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Percy kept smiling and remained kneeling, as if paying for his sins in a prayer of love.

Percy crawled on his knees until he was close enough to touch again and offered Nico the box, saying: "It's your turn to put it on me. Will you marry me?”

"Gods!" Nico whimpered, that tightness in his heart and warmth in his chest spreading like hellish flames through his veins. "You'll regret this. You'll regret it so much. Then, don't blame me for what happens.”

"I take full responsibility.”

Sniffling, Nico knelt down too and did the same as Percy, placing the ring on the ring finger of Percy's right hand and observing their hands together. Not even in his wildest dreams could Nico have imagined something like this.

"Satisfied now?”

"And my kiss, hm?”

Still feeling anxious and shaky, Nico jumped into Percy's lap and kissed him with everything he had, being greeted by the strong embrace of the person Nico loved most in the whole world.

[elvenbeard]

“svelte” for the micro stories prompts if you’re still doing them?

Thanks so much for asking!! As a warning: this got a bit steamy on accident towards the end xD Also... I had to ask my English-nativespeaker-friends for help with that word, because I've never heard it before and I hope I used it somewhat correctly in the context xD

45 - Svelte

Kerry had recently found a new favorite pastime: drinking his first coffee of the day outside on the balcony while watching V swim a couple of laps in the pool. V had picked this up just recently, every couple of days, to gently try and build up some stamina again.

V had told Kerry once how much he’d come to enjoy swimming again after his top surgery… And Kerry could see it. Svelte and elegant but strong and determined in his movements, V was gliding through the water like it was the most natural thing for him, smiling even when he had to pause and catch his breath. It was in one of those moments, V leaning against the edge of the pool, that he looked up and his eyes met with Kerry’s. His breathless smile turned into a wide grin, and Kerry couldn’t help himself but instantly smile back.

“Morning,” V called up to him, “Hope I didn’t wake ya?”

“Nah,” Kerry shook his head, “Had coffee already?”

“No, not yet. Not without you,” V smiled and then swung himself out of the pool in one fluid motion. Kerry had to focus on not accidentally dropping his mug as V walked towards him moments later, wet skin glistening in the morning sun like silver.

“Sorry, didn’t bring a towel,” Kerry shrugged, and V chuckled.

“Still on brand, I see,” he said and pulled him into a hug, “Guess I gotta dry myself off against you then…”

Kerry hugged him back as best as he could, still trying to hold on to his mug, but again almost dropping it when V “accidentally” brushed his hand along the bulge in his underwear.

“Hm, what’s going on here?” he purred against Kerry’s neck, sending warm shivers down his spine.

“Dunno,” Kerry replied, voice raspy, “Why don’t we go inside, and ya take a good look at it?”

V started laughing, didn’t let go, but instead started kissing that raw, sensitive spot right where Kerry’s voicebox implant met his organic skin.

Yeah… watching V’s morning laps at the pool was becoming Kerry’s favorite pastime for more than one reason lately.

[josiebelladonna]

kinkmas | black moon | day twenty-four

chapter title: “helium”

pairing: alex skolnick x fem!oc

tags: glove kink, alex being gentlemanly and v cute at the same time

ao3 link | kinktober/sister piece “eclipse”

minors dni and i’m still cold ❄️💋❄️💋

He never claimed to be a strong man, especially when Christine woke up and she found herself back in the tent in the woods. She lay there in the sleeping bag with one hand on the pillow right next to her head: she swore that Alex had been there before, and that she knew that she would wake up to the feeling of his body right next to her once again. Instead, she awoke to the ghost of his warmth in the sleeping bag next to her and the metallic thwack of an ax head right outside of the tent doors.

There was a second metallic thwack, followed by two pieces of wood falling onto the ground outside.

Christine pushed the top of the sleeping bag back off her body, and she clambered her way over to the tent doors: her hair still dripped wet from the shower before then. She unzipped the doors for a peek out to see Alex there before a low barren stump and a slightly smaller log on its end at the top. His long black hair had been tied back into a loose ponytail at the back of his head, and he wore a white flannel shirt over his long underwear, big black scuffed boots, and black leather gloves on his hands.

She thought about the way his hands looked when she drew them back in the loft, and they looked so much sleeker and more elegant in sturdy black leather.

He held a big, long ax with a silvery head in his hands. He held still for a moment, and the way that the crisp, golden morning light filtered down onto the curvature of his back made Christine hold her breath. From behind, he never looked more masculine, stronger, more himself. The flannel hugged the extra flesh on his waist and his hips, and with his long black hair, he genuinely looked as though he had emerged from the ocean and become a human boy again. From behind, he looked so sensual and so protective of her, especially with those black leather gloves and that long ax in hand.

Alex then swung the ax high over his head and down onto the log.

He split it in half with one solid thwack. Christine glanced about the area with the expectation of seeing tall lumbering pine trees around them, but she was instead met with the sight of scraggly Joshua trees.

“Alex?” she called out to him, and he turned and peered over his shoulder to look back at her: he had put goggles over his eyes out of safety from stray flying splinters.

“Oh, hey! I was wondering when you’d wake up!”

“Where are we? How long have I been asleep?” she asked him, and she shivered from the crisp forest air all around her. The snow was without a question in mind upon them again, and even though the ground around them was dark and coated in pine needles, he had thought ahead of it all.

“Not very long,” he told her as he stooped down and picked the logs up from the ground. “I woke up about twenty minutes ago feeling cold, and I knew that we needed something more for a fire later tonight. I knew you were cold because you were all snuggled up against me tight. I got dressed, came out here and found the ax with the logs, and then the goggles, and I got to it.”

He turned to her, still with those gloves wrapped around his hands, but he took the goggles off and gave his ponytail a little toss about with a shake of his head.

“As for where we are,” he began again as he doubled back to her. “No clue. My guess is somewhere out in Palm Desert? I recognize the Joshua trees and the sand dunes over there—” He gestured behind him to the low, rolling sand dunes on the sunlit horizon.

“Wow,” she remarked, and she slithered out of their tent: she glanced down at her body to find her long underwear back on as well as her boots off to the side.

“My guess is the snow in the forest was too much,” he suggested.

“Yeah, that’s my guess, too,” she added with a shiver. “You don’t think of the desert as getting all that cold.”

“You really don’t,” he said, and he flexed his fingers: the black leather crinkled under the bent of his fingers all the while. “When I came out here, I was amazed by how quickly my hands grew cold. Put these on and—problem solved.”

“You look really sexy with those gloves on,” she told him. “And I like you with flannel, too.”

Alex flashed her a smirk as well as a raise of his eyebrow, and then he returned to the small wood pile behind him.

“Want to get some coffee?” he suggested.

“Please.”

Indeed, they had found their way out of the thick forest and into a small pocket of the high desert, which Christine soon discovered was several miles up a creek from Idyllwild, in the desert mountains of Southern California and a cold oasis in an otherwise lukewarm part of the state: frozen fog coated the pine trees high up on the southern flank of Mount San Jacinto over them; the sun caressed over the blanket of ice up there to make the trees look as though they were made from sugar plums and tempered chocolate instead of wood.

A small hike down to the little coffee house downhill from there and they had their coffee on hand.

“I never thought I’d be spending Christmas out in the high desert of California,” Alex confessed to her as they began back up the trail along the hillside. “Especially with how festive New York gets.” He was starting to sound like his real-life self at that point, and Christine knew that her dance of the mind was about to end soon.

“Yeah, same here,” she admitted to him. She tugged down her jacket over her waist: still very full and round, even in dreamlike form. Alex lingered back a bit so she could catch up to him.

“Reminds me of the first part of our adventure,” he confessed. “We’re going up the hill from the apple orchard.”

“Except this time, we’re surrounded by Joshua trees. That's not to say that Joshua trees aren’t barren, though.”

Even though they weren’t as high up as the pine forest up at the top of the mountain, he seemed to breathe harder from walking up the trail. No way was he out of shape, even with the few extra pounds he had gained from Hanukkah. Indeed, she noticed that she was rather breathless herself.

“The air is thin up here,” he confessed as he finally stopped for a second: he held his cup of coffee down by his hip and he set one foot up on the rock next to him. He looked like an actual lumberjack straight out of the forest. “Remember, the guy in the coffee house told us that we’re about eight thousand feet up?”

“Well, it’s thin to you in particular,” she pointed out. “I’ve been to the Whitney Portal and it’s ten thousand feet up.”

“Wow.” He sipped on his coffee with his eyes closed, and then he turned his head for a look out to the desert sun as its golden rays peeked over the ridge to the right. Christine turned for a look herself, and she shivered at the sight of the sunlight coupled with the cold black stone of the mountain. She turned her head for a look up to the cold, frosted summit of the mountain above them, and she started to hum “White Christmas” to herself.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,” Alex followed along in a low baritone of a voice, and Christine gaped at him.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” she confessed, and he shrugged.

“When I was little, I would sing to the Beatles,” he told her. “The first song I ever sang along to was ‘Here Comes the Sun’. You know—” He turned back to the ridge behind her. “’Here comes the sun, little darlin’... here comes the sun.’” He licked his lips and took another sip of coffee. “I can’t carry a tune in a wheelbarrow, though. I always sound so goofy when I sing.”

“Maybe tune yourself and reel yourself in, you could probably have a very nice voice, Alex,” she told him. “I can hear it in there.”

He showed her a smile and took another sip of coffee.

“Let’s have some breakfast, shall we?”

“We shall.”

They pressed on up the trail back to their campsite and Christine offered to make them a humble breakfast of oatmeal and sausage links once they had started the fire there in the pit. It was a lot easier out there in the desert than in the forest, much to Alex’s alarm.

“Damn, this is a hot fire!” he exclaimed once the flames lapped high over the edge of the pit; they had grown so hot so quickly that he fell back onto the seat of his pants in surprise. But Christine hummed to herself as she cooked the links in a little frying pan over the fire and then the pot of oatmeal on a hot plate. She stirred the pot and served up a little bowl full of oatmeal with some brown sugar and blueberries for him, followed by a bowl with brown sugar and raspberries for herself.

“I kind of want to chop us some more firewood for later on,” she told him once they nestled down before the fire together.

“As long as I get to make us dinner,” he said with a wag of his spoon towards her.

“Yes, please,” she proclaimed.

The fire still raged on, and all the while, Alex never took off those black leather gloves.

When the sun moved over the ridge and shone down upon them, Christine picked up the ax with her bare hands and proceeded chopping with the fire at her back. It was much heavier than she had assumed, and coupled with the high elevation, she found it a bit difficult to hold the ax straight over the log on the stump before her.

“You got that?” he asked her.

“I’m trying,” she confessed as she raised the ax and swung down onto the log. She missed the top by an inch, such that the ax head itself fell onto its side next to the log.

“Here—”

He shuffled up behind her, and he slid his arms over her own. He pressed his body against her back to steady her against the unforgiving, high desert mountainside. That smooth black leather caressed over the backs of her hands to better steady her.

“You got it?” he asked her right into her ear as she held onto the ax handle, right near the head.

“I do, yeah,” she replied; he was as out of breath as her.

“Okay.”

She lifted the ax handle up over their heads; his fingers slid down her wrists for a split second, that is until she brought the ax down onto the log. He held onto her again as the blade came down.

The blade split the log in two, almost perfectly down the middle. Both halves fell off to the sides with a low sound of lumber falling. She turned her head to see his face right up to her own, complete with a sweet smile plastered across.

“We did it,” she declared, breathless.

“Correction, you did it,” he told her. “Think you got it from here?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“I’ll be right behind you if you need any help,” he vowed to her with a wink, and he pressed his lips to the side of her face before he sat back down again. The warmth bloomed in her face at the feeling, but she knew what she had to do for the two of them.

“Oh, Chris?”

She turned around to find Alex holding out the goggles to her.

“Really, put these on,” he told her. “You never know if you might get hit by a splinter.”

“Thank you.” She took the goggles and put them on over her eyes, and then she got down to it.

Indeed, swinging that ax brought out an unfound strength inside of her. Even with her heavy weight, she could feel the power within her to chop wood for them: she did the same thing that Alex had done earlier that morning, in that she stood in anticipation before the log and quickly raised it and brought it back down onto the log for the perfect split for several logs.  

And all the while, she hoped that Alex would make them a good dinner by the time the sun started to set over the low hills in the west.

“We should have matzo soup,” he suggested as he took out a silver bowl and some water. “There’s some chicken broth back here, and I can just make the balls up in a skillet over the fire.”

“Can you make it?” she asked him.

“As a matter of fact, I can! Not as good as my mom’s matzo soup, or my grandma’s, for that matter, but I can make it, though.”

Indeed, at one point, Christine watched him stir the pot of hot soup over the fire pit, but she knew that it could have some more heart to it. She had seen the size of his heart before: she crawled up behind him, and she pressed her chest to his upper back, and she slid her hand on top of his leather-clad hand. He turned his head to her and showed her that same sweet smile as before.

“That sweet female love,” he noted in a low voice.

At one point, he lifted the spoon out of the broth and blew on the surface. He then pointed it towards her. She sipped on it with her eyes closed and both arms around his body.

“We did it?” he asked her.

“Nah, you did it,” she corrected him as she licked her lips. “Mama and Grandma would be proud.”

“Mom and Nana,” he corrected her with a wag of his finger.

She let go of him so he could serve up the matzo soup in a pair of bowls. Once they both took their spots again, the sun began to hang low over the hills in the west and royal wintry blue painted the sky overhead to beckon nightfall. They raised their bowls to each other for a toast, and all the while, Christine noticed that Alex had never taken off those leather gloves all day, aside from making the matzo balls; but he almost immediately put them back on.

“You look all warm and soft and snuggly and—like you could choke me,” she added, and he raised his eyebrows at her as he took a bite of soup.

“Or maybe...” He set the bowl down in his lap, and he reached over for a caress of her thigh. Nothing more than long underwear to separate herself from him.

“Can we eat our soup first?” she asked him.

“Of course. The sun hasn’t gone down yet anyway.”

No sooner had he finished his soup when she brought her lips to the side of his neck for a gentle kiss. She was feeling warm again, especially with the nightfall upon them: off in the distance, red and green Christmas lights on stray houses glimmered against the beckoning darkness.

Alex took a bite of matzo ball, then set his spoon down in the bowl and reached his leather-clad hand up to her face to touch her. The leather was smooth and still clean despite having handled an ax and a cup of coffee.

“I’m feeling warm,” she told him in a husky voice.

“Me, too,” he answered. “Warm and homey.”

She groaned right into his ear until he downed the rest of the broth of the soup. He then turned to her and slid those leather-bound hands under her long underwear to feel her body: the cold leather sent chills up her spine; the high elevation sent her into a euphoria; the early darkness and the odd snap of cold made her forget everything. Alex brought his cherry lips to her own, and he felt up her body.

All the while, she knew that he was still hiding something, something special perhaps for when the adventure was about to end. And she was eager to hear it as he took off his right glove to feel the inside of her hood with a bare, long and lanky finger.

[poojamanillp]

Tips to Purchase the Best Jewellery For You

If you are purchasing a gift for a person or jewelry for your personal collection, this article shows what you must search for if purchasing jewellery.

Purchasing jewelry is a unique and thrilling process. Making wise choices can guarantee you receive the best worth of your money, whether you're buying anything for yourself or it's a present for a particular someone. Renowned jewelry designers offer some great advice to keep in mind when purchasing jewelry.

Image source Freepik

Establish a Budget 

Establish your spending limit when you go shopping. By doing this, you'll be able to reduce your alternatives and avoid going over budget. Keep in mind the quality doesn't always need to be expensive, so make sure to look at a variety of possibilities that fit into your price range. 

Recognize Your Style 

Occasionally, you'll come across an amazing piece of jewelry which appeals to you. Regretfully, your name won't appear on every stunning artwork. Despite how much you adore it, it is true. Even while a rose-gold gemstone bangle looks nice, you generally shouldn't purchase it if your wardrobe is mostly cool-colored. Instead, look for something using an emerald or sapphire set in white gold. Think about substitutes which you will wear frequently because there are probably options in comparable styles with other materials.

Decide What Kind of Jewelry You Want

Selecting the type of gold filled jewellery you want to buy is the next phase in the process of buying it. Are there many V-neck shirts in your wardrobe that would look great with a spectacular necklace? Can a bracelet dress up your wrist and offer you a refined, authoritative look in business settings? Decide what you will be wearing most of the time. Ideally, you should purchase a piece that will serve you well. Consider your existing, less expensive pieces rationally and purchase high-quality items of the same kind. 

Understand Occasion Types

Do you work in a workplace most of the time? Or do you work from home and enjoy going out on the weekends? These issues help you decide what kind of fine jewelry to purchase. Subtle pieces are crucial when you're out for jewelry for business. They enhance your ensemble and give you a refined yet polished appearance. Similar styles might appeal to those who desire to wear items on dates, fancy events, and elegant evenings out. You can get off with wearing more, though, if you want your fine jewelry to be the focal point in informal settings. Large rose-gold bangles as well as larger, brighter crystals are ideal for these events. When purchasing a piece, be sure to consider where and when you are going to use it.

Do Your Own Research

Spend some time learning about the many kinds of jewelry, metals, gemstones, and quality markers for each. Recognize the cut, hue, clarity, as well as carat weight of diamonds as well as the qualities of other gemstones that you might find appealing. With this info, you will be able to make wise selections. 

Think about your way of life 

Consider how the jewelry will fit with your lifestyle. Choose more durable items which can resist regular use if you have an active lifestyle. On the other hand, you might concentrate on more fragile and elaborate designs if you're purchasing jewelry for special occasions. 

Prioritize Quality Over Quantity 

Invest in a few pieces of excellent quality rather than a large number of cheap ones. Better jewelry lasts longer, keeps its worth better, and frequently has guarantees or warranties. Seek for designs with strong clasps, secure options, and fine craftsmanship. 

Make a Trial Before Buying 

Try on the jewelry whenever you can before buying it. You can evaluate how it feels and appears on your body in this way. Consider the weight, comfort level, and general design. 

Select a trustworthy jeweler 

It's important to get jewelry from a trustworthy jeweler who has a proven track record. Seek certifications that attest to the gemstones' genuineness and quality. To guarantee a reliable shopping experience, check reviews, ask for suggestions, and visit reputable jewelry retailers. 

Look for Timeless Styles 

Ageless designs are classy; trends change over time, but they always look good. Think about investing in timeless items that you can wear for many years. Classic styles, like an easy gold pendant necklace or a set of solitary diamond earrings, are adaptable and suit well with many different kinds of clothing. 

Learn about Upkeep 

Maintaining jewelry at its finest involves routine care. Find out about any special maintenance needs and the care guidelines before making a purchase. Particular metals or gemstones can require specialized cleaning techniques or recurring evaluations by a jeweler. You can make an informed choice if you are aware of the maintenance requirements. 

Examine the Metal 

Consider the precious metal utilized when purchasing jewelry from the best jewelry websites. Metals vary in their qualities and degrees of durability. Platinum as well as gold (in a variety of hues, such as rose, white, or yellow) are popular choices. When selecting the metal, take your budget, lifestyle, and unique preferences into account. 

Have Faith in Your Gut 

Finally, follow your gut and select jewelry that speaks to you. Jewelry is a way for someone to exhibit their unique style and personality. A piece is probably a wise decision if it speaks to you as well as gives you a sense of self-assurance and beauty. Follow your gut, and don't let trends or other people's ideas influence you. 

Conclusion

Purchasing designer jewellery is an emotional plus monetary investment. These pointers will help you make well-informed judgments and guarantee that the jewellery you select fits your lifestyle, financing, and sense of style. Happy buying for jewelry!

Courtesy: Poojamani Jewellers

[silvermanconrad5]

replica dior scarf 16

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[konigbabe]

the fruits (of my labor)

DAY 4 ⇢ Power Dynamic Pairing: deity!Satoru Gojo x fem!acolyte!reader Word count: 2.5k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; deity/acolyte dynamic; deepthroat; throatfucking; riding Gojo’s knee; p-in-v; orgasm denial; creampie; dacryphilia; japanese terminology and mythology; religious imaginery; allusions to manipulation and toxicity; inaccurate historical descriptions Summary: He's a deity, yet he's faithless. The only belief he invests in is between your thighs. Satoru Gojo enjoys the fruits of your labor that you've offering him of late. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023.]

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You look upon him, his tranquil eyes already on you as he lies on his back; the corner of his lip turned upwards. Legs spread for your naked body to nestle between, your own bloody and bruised knees digging into the soft, plush yaedatami; offering a momentary relief from the pain. Lips bruised and swollen from the stretch, trying to accommodate his girth. Almost cracking at the corners.

If you were told to describe him, only one word springs to mind – Kami.

Divine.

His gestures – possessing an elegance that rivals the dance of willow branches in a gentle breeze. His voice; a melodious biwa ballad. The way blue hues of his eyes resemble the heavens melting into the boundless sea and the moon's reflection on tranquil waters, a sight that both soothes and enchants –

Satoru Gojo was considered an enigmatic legend in your eyes; among the people from your village. A young boy of mysterious lineage, his parentage shrouded in uncertainty. Some deemed him a yōkai, an unsettling otherworldly presence, while others gravitated towards yūrei, a spectral spirit.

He stands tall and slender, a figure exuding undeniable firmness in every line of his body. Hair the shade of soft grey; it reminds you of the moonlight filtering through the forest's canopy near your mother's okiya house, a teahouse adjacent to the gate of your village. Soft and fluffy; as the memory itself. His locks beckoned, inviting you to run your fingers through them, much like those stolen moments when he allowed you to do so – aware of limb-loosing consequences if any other maiden caught wind of your affiliation with Gojo.

Eyes mostly hidden underneath a woven silken cloth. Only allowed to see the day's sun when all others have been blinded; only a selected few made aware of Gojo's countenance.

("It's in the interest of my own well-being," he mumbles against the tender curve of your neck. Teeth grazing the marks there.

His cloth mask's fastened over the bridge of your nose, denying you eyesight. Hands sliding beneath the scarlet hakama, altered into a flowing skirt, enabling him to grasp your bare thighs with a grip so tight it threatens to leave lingering imprints. He's wrenching his pelvis up, engorged cock sliding against the sensitive walls of your drenched core as he moves you up and down his lap.

Robe shamelessly untied and disheveled but still hanging from his shoulders; with your arms clinging to the garment for dear life, a lifeline that anchors you as he delves so deeply that it elicits a desperate mewl from your lips, pushing aside any lingering questions.

"I cannot allow commoners to pose threats to my safety. After all, I am but a Kami." His hand raises one of yours, placing your palm flat against his. In that instant, you feel it—the non-existent space between your palms expanding, pushing your hand away from his. An invisible barrier materializing and separating your limb from his. It makes your fingers tingle.

"Who would–umph–desire to hurt you, my honored one."

A forceful push surges from behind you — or at least it feels that way — propelling your body towards Gojo's body. Lips colliding with his, all tenderness vanishing from his actions. His strong arm encircles your waist, lifting you up and creating the sensation of flying through the air. In one fluid motion, he turns you both around, deepening the kiss when his tongue plunges between your gasping lips.

"No one would dare, angel.")

– His taste. Briny yet the pearlescent droplets of his prespend sweet. With your cheeks hollowed, nails digging into the meat of his thighs, you savor the saline tang of him on your tongue. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterline, threatening to spill down your cheeks; eyelashes fluttering as he thrusts his hips upwards. Hand on the crown of your head pushing down simultaneously.

The swollen tip of his leaking cock plunges into your throat, scratching the sensitive back of it, and causing an involuntary gag reflex, throat instinctively closing.

"Just like that," Gojo groans in response to the sensation of your tight throat suffocating his cock, his arm positioned behind his head while the other moves to cup your cheek. His thumb tenderly wipes away a tear tracing a path down your face.

You look upon him, his tranquil eyes already on you as he lies on his back; the corner of his lip turned upwards. Legs spread for your naked body to nestle between, your own bloody and bruised knees digging into the soft, plush yaedatami; offering a momentary relief from the pain. Lips bruised and swollen from the stretch, trying to accommodate his girth. Almost cracking at the corners.

Leaving only his tip inside, you suck; draw him in, the tip of your tongue swirling over his slit as you let all the saliva gathered in your mouth coat his head, letting it dribble from the corners of your mouth onto his cock. Using your hand to spread the slick, covering his entire length in the mixture with your tongue concentrating on the spongy spot under his tip, slowly moving down until your lips meet your fingers wrapped around his hilt.

With bated breath, you ease your throat open wider, feeling the mushy head breach the gateway to your trachea; the friction growing more intense as he pushes past your tonsil area. Swallowing carefully, you take him in until his pelvis presses flush against your nose. You add a low hum to the mix, your fingernails lightly grazing the taut muscles of his abdomen, feeling it tighten as he twitches inside you. Something swells in your chest, expands and tightens over the feeling. Pride? More like a fervent devotion that borders on reverence.

"You little akuma–" he lets out a breath, fingers tracing the bulging curve of your throat before you pop him out with a wet sound. You repeat after – take him fully down your throat, keep him there and humming; vibrations shooting up his every nerve ending.

And the sounds he makes – the groan he lets out is drawn-out and echoing. You kiss his cock one more time before nipping at his sensitive area just below his abdomen, muscles hardened and shaped into a v. A place stained by the nips of your teeth, nicks of your nails; a teasing breeze caressing the shoreline.

Face moving upwards, your lips ache to meld with his. Yet as his breath mingles with yours, his fingers snake around your throat, tightening their grip.

Gojo holds your face intimately close to his that you can discern the white sparkles seemingly dancing within his eyes.

So close that you can distinguish myriad shades of blue within his iris, reminiscent of the Pleiades, or the very hue of the sky on a day when wisteria blooms swell.

"What are you doing," his head tilts to the side, lips tracing the corner of your lip until moving to your jaw. Soft gentle nibbles in contrast with the tight grip on your throat as you remain on all fours above his body that's still adorned in his night robe but completely untied.

A light breath escapes your yearning lips, eyes searching his face for any imperfections, any blemish in his otherwise divine visage – but finding none. Heart pounding in rhythm with the intensity of the moment, you believe that he's capable of hearing the beats. Thump, thump.

"Akami," you mumble, eyes falling to his lips when the tip of his tongue peaks out to slide over them, "kiss."

You remain motionless, almost paralyzed by the heated tension in the air, afraid to make a move or even swallow. Your cunt drenched, folds glistening with need to be filled. It pulsates, thumping steadily as if your heart dropped between your legs.

Gojo's eyes, once filled with desire, now appear almost bored, as if he's testing your resolve.

"Do you believe you are deserving of a kiss from Akami?"

Your head sways from side to side instinctively before you even fully process his question. Thighs failing to press together to relieve some of the tension as his wide frame blocks your attempts.

"I would not pose such queries without belief in their pertinence, correct?"

You nod. His face contours, creases between his brows. Bending one leg, he brings his knee to your cunt. Pressing onto the pulsating nerve on top, making you mewl and moan from finally getting some release. Your hips shamelessly grind onto his offering knee, painting it in your juices.

"Speak," he corrects you, putting his knee higher — forcing your calves to strain in order to remain on the soft cushion.

"You are—mmph—," Gojo's eyes flick down to see the way your pussy parts for his knee, circling it and disturbing your chain of thoughts, "—you are correct, Go—gojo."

"Good," his thumb presses against your lower lip, forcing your mouth to part more before he pushes the digit flat against your tongue, "then undertake a deserving act."

Satoru Gojo refuses to allow your lips contact with his. Even after what feels like hours – when he's already painted your body in his pearlescent spent, now slickening your gummy walls and sticking to his cock like honey – he's continuing to pound into you with relentless strength.

And yet he still doesn't let you reach the sweet high. Unable to tumble into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body his canvas, on which he paints strokes of desire – a merciless dance on the edge of rapture; where you can feel the waves building and receding like a capricious ocean tide.

("Patience, my angel. You're too pure to be stained. My forsaken tenshi.")

Robe finally discarded, he has you positioned to bend over the side of the yaedatami; high enough for your back to arch forcibly. The stretch across your abdomen feels like a taut bowstring. Ass up, held aloft and elbows pressed against the floor. Your hands grope desperately for purchase – yet finding nothing in this empty sleeping chamber – as Gojo looms over you, one arm bracing his weight beside your head, the other cradling your cheek as he spreads you wide for his cock to plunge insanely deep into your leaking cunt.

His thrusts are relentless, each one driving his cock impossibly deep. So deep it makes you feel as if the tip of his cock grazes your cervix, a blunt pressure inside building with each pivot of his hips. It builds steadily inside you, like a dam about to burst. And the loudness of your moans only assures the man in your body's response to him – his body, his heat. His cock. All of him.

"Just like that–," Gojo's voice's raspy, throat strained from the sounds of pleasure he's given you, "stay down—ugh–"

His words cause your back to arch more; prideful in his praise. The pleasure profound, toe-curling and spiraling through your body.

"Gojoo–," you try to meet the aggressive roll of his hips, even if the position doesn't let you move too much, "please–'m so close–please…"

You're begging, whining for him to never stop. To – for once – listen to his acolyte's pleas for release. And just as he senses your cunt quivering, throbbing with the impending orgasm, he draws a sharp thrust. Body heavy against your bottom, bottoming out before pulling out.

His response is a single word, "No" escaping his lips. Sitting back on his legs, his eyes lock onto the sight of your cunt – spread open, his own cum trickling from the fluttering, empty hole, glistening as it strains your inner thighs; pussy puffy and swollen from overstimulation. Chest puffing out, he basks in the tableau before him.

"I shall have a painter immortalize such image," he muses, leaning closer. Fingers tracing the curve of your calves, gliding over the skin of your thighs, bathing in the slickness of your inner thighs. He swipes the blend of his cum and juices from your cunt, collects them on his fingers.

In a commanding gesture, he raises you up, positioning you to sit atop your legs, mirroring his own stance. His wet fingers dance along your parted lips as you grow more desperate.

"Please–," you beg more, licking the saline sweetness off your lips, throat parched, "please–."

Gojo doesn't respond – not immediately. Instead, he turns you to face him with your back. Pulling your body onto his sitting lap and thrusting his cock into your abused cunt without any resistance. Your body strains as your back arches, head falling back to rest against his neck as his hands grasp both of your biceps, securing you to his chest as he thrusts upwards.

"You reach your release only when I deem it," his lips trace your neck, biting the sensitive flesh as he moves you up and down his lap. You can feel his cock scratching that insatiable itch deep inside you, each punishing thrust pushing you closer to the edge. The emptiness that follows only stokes the fervor building within you, a desire that only HE can satiate.

And does he take his time…

Legs pushed against your chest, his body weighs down on you – folded almost in half. Tears of exhaustion and bliss course down your cheeks, his name on your lips. Moaning, gasping, arching your back as you lose yourself to the euphoria that builds inside. His cock pushes against your clenched walls, swelling and so close to releasing and coating your walls with his sore.

But Gojo holds tight to his resolution; muscles taut under your trembling body; your fragile body. You're his to do with as he pleases, after all.

"Ahh–close, Gojo–please," you plead, feeling his cock plunge into your core, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root, "I want to–ugh–I can't–"

He cuts you off with a rather painful thrust, the head of his cock bruising your cervix, it seems. Making you gasp at the suddenness and pain. It's afterward that he slows down, rapid thrusts becoming languid rolls of his hips. He moans, gruff and low in his throat as he pushes himself deeper inside of you with each movement.

"You cannot what?" His eyes gleam even as he gives you a momentary reprieve. The thrumming pleasure from being so completely filled subsides, but not entirely leaving altogether – just enough to remind you that Gojo's presence is still there.

"I can't–," you whimper in his ear as he moves onto his elbows, straining your hamstrings until you feel as if he's gonna tear your legs apart, "I can't…"

"You cannot what?" Gojo demands, his cock stilling inside you, only to resume as he leans you forward, "tell me, my faithful one."

"No more–please," your lips search for his; to which his head fives to your clavicles, nibbling the tender and sensitive skin there, "I need the release, please," you beg with a strained voice.

His eyes flutter shut, teeth catching hold on your shoulder, harder than they should, "beg one more time. Let me hear your prayers."

He's waiting for a particular syllable and sounds; the first syllable of his name. For it to flow out of your lips.

"Please–," your voice becomes but a mere exhale, body spent; falling to his mercy. Shaking as you beg for this man to take whatever he wants. The only reason you're even able to speak is to plead for release, having nothing else to offer but yourself freely to him. A twisted, filth-covered shinsen.

In the end, Gojo eventually does take your offering, grants you your release.

Being that way for several moons.

[tatakaeeren]

Levi Ackerman : Shingeki No Kyojin x SoftBanks Hawks Collaboration

[rayslittlekitten]

Emeralds & Pearls

A/N: So it took me a bajillion years to finally finish this. I had this specific idea and so the fic started strong and than I don't know what happened. I've been a huge struggle writing smut lately which is why you've been seeing a lot of angst and fluff. This didn't quite really pan out the way I wanted but it's finished. Hope you enjoy. Thank you @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading!

RATING: E (18+ONLY)

Word Count: ~3k

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Wife F!reader

Plot: You kickstart your romantic anniversary night with a necklace.

Contains: unprotected sex (P in V), oral sex (F receiving), fingering, spanking, pussy slapping, crotch-sniffing, light choking, body/partner worshipping?, pantyhose tearing (I think that is all)

Your husband is always lavishing you with jewelry, exquisite dresses and shoes, French lingerie, fur coats and when he can, fine dining, but you’re a woman with simple needs and tastes. All you really want is to be able to enjoy your marriage, but it’s hard when he’s more committed to Mickey Pearson. You know that a lot of him feels guilty for missing out on spending time with you due to the nature of his demanding job so he tries to make up for it by showering you with gifts, but you also know a part of him enjoys seeing you wearing some of those said gifts. You've seen the way he's looked at you when you put them on for him, but there is one thing that drives him particularly feral.

It's your wedding anniversary and you're getting ready to celebrate it while waiting for Raymond. You're sitting in front of the vanity, putting final touches on your face when you hear him coming through the front door. Your perfectly lined eyes dart over at the clock while cleaning up the edges of your bright red lips. It's a surprise he's actually home on time.

"Hi, my love!"

You hear him coming up the stairs and rushing past the bedroom straight to his office, as usual, to drop off the work he brought home.

You quickly scan your face in front of the mirror before standing up from your vanity chair. The thin heels of your six-inch Jimmy Choos hit the hardwood floor with each step you take towards the door. The sound of your steps echo as you take your time to walk down the hall towards Raymond's office.

"Are you ready, my love?" Raymond checks his watch. "I don't think we have too much time left. Our reservations are in forty-five minutes and we need to go across town. You know how the M25 gets around this time."

When you step into his office, Raymond quickly glances up at you for a moment and goes back to what he was doing, but then does a double take. He pauses his task and stares at you expressionless as you slowly put one foot in front of the other. His eyes travel from your cat-lined eyes, to your bright red pout, and then to the pearl necklace he bought you for your anniversary last year sitting just above your naked chest which you display proudly. His eyes darken. Your arms are covered in black satin from the tip of your fingernails up to your biceps. He scans below your waist and his jaw drops a little lower seeing your bottom half wrapped in sheer stockings and your feet in patent leather heels.

He continues to watch you quietly like a hungry wolf as you walk around his desk. You run your gloved hands over his chest as you get closer to him. His eyes drop down to your neck again and he brings his hand up to it, lightly stroking the front of your throat with this thumb. You know it drives Ray absolutely wild to see you adorned in nothing but an expensive necklace. Something about you wearing only something so elegant and precious while he defiles you gets his blood flowing.

You noticed in the beginning of your relationship, Ray would gift you these shiny diamond necklaces and thought he was just trying to impress you, but over time, you caught on to his antics.

"I think I'm a bit overdressed for the occasion," you tell him.

"No, you are perfect," Raymond responds while cradling the back of your neck. His eyes admire every single part of your face as if it’s the first time he saw it. He was so taken away by your beauty, and now he is a slave to it - to you. The moment you said 'I do', Raymond just wanted to make love to you, to his wife, right there and then, over and over again. The marriage license and officiation wasn't enough. He wanted to consummate the marriage and claim you as his wife. It's what makes your wedding anniversary extra special to him. While you may look more or less the same as you did the day you met him, to your husband, you are a goddess and with each day that passes that you are married to him, you become more beautiful and god-like to him.

You can feel the coolness of his wedding band against your sensitive skin. His lips ghost over yours as you lean your head away from his. He tries to kiss you again, but you move away. His other arm grabs your waist and pulls you flush against him, holding you in place before smashing his lips against yours.

Raymond's hand slides down behind you, squeezing your ass, and then he presses his crotch against yours. You can feel where all the blood in his body has rushed to. His lips leave yours and dips down to the side of your neck and shoulder. Taking his time, he kisses you all over, being careful to not disturb the pearls. Although now he's thinking about giving you another one as he's imagining you kneeling in front of him with pleading eyes.

For a man who seemed to be in a rush to leave, he sure is taking his time. He is giving equal amounts of attention to every part of your body, making sure to appreciate and worship every inch of your skin. You let out a small moan when Raymond's teeth grazes your shoulder. He doesn't quite sink them in, gently teasing you, although you know he would love to mark you. He wants everyone to know you are his.

Raymond's hand slips down from your neck to one of your breasts. His large hand kneads it as he continues to caress your neck and upper chest with his soft lips. Your breathing is noticeably heavier and you let out a sigh when Raymond backs you up against his desk and presses himself on you. The edge of the desk is digging into your backside.

"Raymond," you pant as you run your fingers through his slick back hair and neck. 

“Yes, my love?” Raymond hums and you arch against him when he pulls a nipple between his pink wet lips. His tongue swirls around the nub a few times before he completely puts his mouth over it and sucks on it. 

You moan in response. He moves on to your other nipple and repeats the same movements, giving it just as much attention. Your hips thrust into the open space between the both of you, needing some friction.

Raymond moves further down your torso and starts placing butterfly kisses all over your belly as his palms run over your hips. As he continues to kiss his way down your body, his teeth catch on the top of the pantyhose and snaps back up into place after it stretches down a few inches.

You look down and watch Raymond who is now kneeling, hover over your heat. You can feel his warm breath on you. The tip of his nose grazes the front of your stockings and he takes a whiff. He looks up at you as he licks you through the thin nylon. You throw your head back and moan, entangling your fingers in his hair.

Suddenly, he flips you around and you brace yourself on the desk. He pushes your ass up and spreads your cheeks. He shoves his nose and mouth against your hot core. He moans as he inhales your arousal, your intoxicating scent. If he could, he would bottle it up and sniff it all day. His face is pressed so close against you, his glasses shift around as he licks and kisses you through the damp delicate material. His hands knead your ass and he buries himself further as his mouth continues to devour you.

You bite your lower lip and push back, grinding yourself against his face, wanting more - needing more. Raymond then digs his fingers into the thin stretchy fabric covering your aching pussy. He bunches it up in his hands and then rips it apart, forming a large opening, exposing your naked wet slit. He practically shredded the expensive French back-seamed pantyhose.

Raymond goes right back in and sticks his face between your legs. You gasp when you feel his thick velvety tongue slip inside you. You clench up when you feel the tip of his nose poke your puckered asshole. He runs the flat of his tongue from your clit up to your dripping opening before he dips the tip of his tongue back in. He puts his mouth over your cunt and sucks on your lips. 

The obscene wet noises and your pants and moans fill up his office and that’s all he needs to keep him going. Your hips jerk when you feel his fingertips teasing your entrance. You push back again hoping his fingers would slide in further. You feel relief when he slips in two fingers all the way up to his knuckle. You clench around his fingers as he slowly works them inside you. You close your eyes and concentrate on the sensation of the penetration and his lips pulling on your clit. The stimulation is making you heady.

“Right there, Raymond,” you moan.

He keeps the pressure and pace consistent. Just as you’re ready for your release, Raymond pulls away, causing you to whimper. You turn back to look at him, but you yelp when you unexpectedly feel him slap your pussy. His hand comes down on it a few more times, leaving it puffy.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’m not done yet.”

You feel him smack your ass a few times and then sink his teeth into one of your cheeks. The sting and bite makes you hiss in delight. Raymond then flips you back around and hoists you up on his desk. He steps into the space between your legs. 

You pull his tie out of his waistcoat and pull him closer to you. You kiss him and grab his face with both your hands to deepen it, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue as you run your smooth hands over his rough beard. As you make out with him, you slide a hand down the front of his jeans, slipping them inside his boxers and grasping his length and running your silky fingers over him.

Raymond moans into your mouth and you nibble on his bottom lip. You pull back and pop your pointer and middle fingers into his mouth. You slide them in and out between his lips as you jerk him with your other hand. He gently grasps the tip of your gloves between his teeth and he tugs on it. You pull your hand away from him and the glove effortlessly slips off. Ray looks away for a moment to spit the glove.

You suddenly feel Raymond slip a finger inside of you and you moan into his mouth. Only after a few pumps, he slips another in. You pull away, throw your head back and moan again. You brace your hands on the desk to get better leverage as you ride his fingers. You bite your bottom lip as you feel him curl his fingers up, rubbing that soft spot inside you.

Ray brings his other hand up to your collarbone, teasing and caressing the string of creamy white beads. He grasps your chin and leans in to kiss you again. You shove your tongue into his mouth and he reciprocates with as much passion. You whine when you feel him pull out of you, but he quickly replaces his mouth with his fingers that were just inside you.

You suck on them, tasting your juices. He then wipes his fingers on your lips, smudging your lipstick even more than it already is.

“Lie back,” Raymond commands. 

You do so and watch Raymond swiftly unbuckle his belt and undo his fly. He pushes his pants and boxers down, freeing his heavy cock that’s been straining behind his zipper. He grips your thighs and shoves them open. He reaches down to align himself with you and rubs the tip up and down your drenched pussy, rubbing your clit along the way, before sinking into you.

“Oh, fuck!” you moan loudly as he starts moving in and out of you, slowly at first. It feels like torture.

“Please, Raymond,” You reach your hands out to him. 

“What do you need, my love?” Raymond leans down closer to you and pushes himself to the hilt. You sigh feeling him filling you up. You feel so full.

“I need you,” you manage to say as you run your hands over his chest, under the collar of his waistcoat. You want to feel him. You want to feel his body on yours.

You grip the gaps between the buttons on his shirt and pull it open, sending buttons flying everywhere. You reach up and press your palms to his bare chest. Feeling his warm smooth skin on yours makes you feel closer to him.

One of Raymond’s hands finds his way back to your neck as he punches his hips into you.

“Who does this cunt belong to?” Raymond asks.

“You,” you answer him.

“Tell me that,” Raymond wraps his fingers around your throat.

“My cunt belongs to you, Raymond.” 

“Damn right, it does,” he grunts. 

You grab the opening of his shirt and pull him down closer to you. You smash your lips against his. Raymond grips your jaw and deepens the kiss. He releases your face to push both your legs up and folds you in half until your knees reach your chest. 

He grasps the edge of his desk above your head, pinning your legs back and reaches deeper into you. He pounds into you hard and fast, hitting your g-spot as he does. You moan into his mouth as you feel your orgasm quickly bubbling.

“Don’t stop, Raymond,” you breathe out.

“Cum for me, my love. I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” Raymond grunts. “Your cock. This cock is all yours.”

He presses his forehead against yours as he slams his hips into you, making his desk jump and shift against the hardwood floors. You throw your head back and cry out as you let your orgasm take course through your body.

“Oh, my love,” Raymond growls as he reaches his own release, painting your walls white.

He stays inside you as you both lay there for a few moments to catch your breath.

“I love you so much.” Raymond pecks your lips.

“I love you too, Raymond.” You smile at him.

Raymond then gently pulls out of you, letting his seed leak out of you.

“Come on, my love. We have a dinner reservation.” Raymond pushes himself off of you and offers his hands. 

He pulls you up off the desk and you both head back to the bedroom to quickly clean yourselves up and pick out some new outfits. You slip into the green dress you had picked out for tonight and abandon the torn hosiery. You look into the floor length mirror to make sure everything is in place and your makeup is decent.

“That color looks so lovely on you,” Raymond eyes you up and down and then comes up behind you, placing his hands on your waist. He pushes your hair aside and starts kissing your neck.

“Raymond,” you tilt your head to the side and hum. “We’re already running late.”

“I have something for you. I think it would go so well with your dress.” He brushes his lips against your shoulder before pressing his lips to it.

He presents a velvet box to you and you take it. You have a feeling you already know what it is. You open it up and gasp seeing an emerald necklace shining at you. The large cut gems are set in yellow gold and surrounded by diamonds.

“Raymond…” you whisper as you run your manicured fingertips over it.

“You like it, my love?” 

“This is… too much. I can’t–”

“Nothing is ever too much. Not for you, not for my wife.” Raymond leans in and kisses your cheek. “Here, let me put it on you.”

He first removes your pearls and then takes the new necklace from the box. You watch in the mirror as he hangs it around your neck and clasps it in place. 

“Thank you, Raymond. I love it.” You turn to him and kiss him. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” Raymond smiles.

“Oh wow, is that really the time? We’re never going to make it in time,” you tell him, seeing the clock. “We might have to order takeaway instead.”

“Don’t be silly, my love. I promised you a nice anniversary dinner. I’ll just tell them we’re stuck in traffic and will be a little late,” Raymond tells you.

“You think they’ll still hold the reservation?” you ask, centering the necklace and admiring it.

“Michael is a part owner. They’ll stay open past closing time if I tell them to,” Ray replies. You see him wink in the reflection and then he gives you a kiss on the cheek. 

His eyes darken again as they shift down to your neck and he licks his lips.

“We better get going now or we’re never going to leave,” he growls into your ear and then playfully bites your neck.

He takes your hand in his and leads you out of the bedroom.

“By the way, those were one of my favorite pairs of nylons,” you tell him.

“I’ll buy 20 pairs for you, my love.”

“I don’t need that many,” you chuckle.

“They’re for me so I can tear them off of you again and again,” Raymond smirks mischievously.

[syrma-sensei]

Okay, okay this is my first ask, so i'm going to give my best, so you can picture whats been on my mind since forever. SOOOO i hc that modern day erwin would just look 🌌expensive🌌 so you always have those elegant and soft button ups he always wears, and like the good girlfriend you are, you wear them. Bc you just like to wear his clothes, they smell like his expensive cologne and him, and they are comfortable, dress-like bc that man is so mf tall.

Would you say Erwin is the type of man who would just lose his shit when you wear his clothes bc of the reminder of how much larger than u he is? And how much easier it is for him to manhandle u during sex? Bc oh, the places my mind has been🥵 but i want to hear your thoughts on this one 👀

qkwsjiwejhshanvxlsl! Welcome my dear ❤️

OMFG! Gurl your imagination is sexy... and I fucking like it 👀

This man is indeed expensive and neat. I don't why many people headcanon that he's a sloppy slob. Maybe they got that idea because he's always engrossed in work and takes little care of himself, but I definitely think he is NOT. I mean of course, he's a mf workaholic, still, it doesn't mean that this man isn't all spruced up and elegant in every freaking aspect.

Back to our topic, this man's body scent is strong and virile, and it certainly hazes you. It's one of the aspects of Erwin filling your senses. His smell invades your nostrils, and does stuff to you. And you fucking adore it.

Erwin's 188 cm, which is pretty freaking tall, let alone his mascular physique. His button-ups certainly reach or a bit higher your knees. OF COURSE, he is a man who'd go mad seeing you loitering around innocently putting nothing but his shirt on. I mean, how he'd resist those legs all naked and bare, while your nipples are pretty visible underneath the soft fabric. His size kink would be much triggered, seeing your small hands covered with the rims of his shirt's sleeves. And if you left a couple of the buttons undone, making a V line to show off your cleavage, he'd go undone.

Given how cute and small you are in his clothes, it arouses his protective urges and drives him wild simultaneously. And it becomes stronger when he stands near you, where you have to crane your neck in order to gaze up at him with a wide grin plastered on your face.

“And here I was wondering where my clothings might be disappearing,”

Yep, you definitely have a nasty habit of stealing his clothes, and wearing them at home when he's away for work and stuff. His scent gives you a sense of security when he's not here.

You wrap your arms around him and kiss his lips, but cups your buttocks with his large hands a lifts you up effortlessly. But he may, which is more likely, just carry you up and toss you on his shoulder like potato bag, and he loves watching you squirm and whine about handling you in such way. But he knows you like it, he knows his little baby very well, and you know you like it rough most of the time; he flings you onto bed and hover over you, he sandwiches you between his huge frame and the bed, and you feel small. A doll tossed here and there according to his whims. Cuz he knows you would do anything for daddy, neh? <3

I'd also say that he might get in teasing mood, and would play along with your game till you end up begging him to fuck you, cuz he knows the slightest details of his girl, and knows how needy you are, he knows how to break your resolve and turn you into mess <3

However, Erwin knows what mood are you in always. When you want him to be soft and when rough, when you want him to fuck you senseless and when you want him to make love to you.

Yep, he likes to take care of your needs, no matter what he says. It's important to him not to leave his partner unsatisfied to the fullest, out of love and ownership. Cuz what kind of a daddy he'd be if he let his little girl think of other ways of pleasure other than him? No, you should only think of him, you should be all vulnerable and weak only with him; he's your source of confidence and power, and he's happy to have you, and that twisted delight of knowing that he can break you if he feels like it, but nope, he isn't a despicable one, but it's an aspect of his power over you, and you fucking relish in it.

And you, hehe, always offer yourself for daddy to use...

taglist: @koulakoukoula2003 @hopeless-daydream3r @vienna-fae @sinnerofthewalls @killerbananas

Tell me if you wanna be added to my Erwin's taglist 😉

[sugurizz]

The house is yours

Pairing : Zeke yeager x reader

Rating : explicit

Word count : 2,5k words

Summary : as a broke student, finding an apartment is not easy. But the cute owner decides to help you with it, in a way that you both get to benefit.

Warnings : soft dom! Zeke x sub!fem! reader, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, nipple play, slight spit play, vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, daddy kink

(Credits to the owner. I don't own the fanart)

After months of looking through ads, websites and even newspapers. finding a decent, comfortable and cosy appartment near the university was a dream coming true. After calling the owner and fixing a date to meet toghether and check the place, your roommate wasn't able to make it to the appointment so you had to go there on my own.

Being already anxious for the meeting, you put a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, a hoodie and your white sneakers before taking your backbag and going there.

After ten minutes or so, you were at the spot you agreed to meet at. You couldn't see anyone particular so you got your phone out of your pocket, ready to call the owner again in order to spot him.

It was then when you saw a tall, broad and handsome man- probably in his late twenties- picking his ringing phone from the pocket of his elegant beige trench coat.

A black turtleneck hugging his visibly muscular chest and arms left your mouth nearly open. That's definitely him - you thought to yourself - feeling your face already heating up, you swallowed hardly, prayed that you weren't really blushing,  took your courage and crossed the road walking towards the little coffee shop he was standing next to.

Standing directly in front of him didn't help at all. You were so overwehlmed by him. and to be frank, you didn't really know where to look. His whole presence was doing things to you, is it His charming glance? his icy grey eyes, ornamented with a set of thick blonde lashes shinig softly in the feeble sunlight? Or is it those silky soft blonde locks, joined in a nice haircut making his enchanting appearence even more perfect and complete?

"Hello, I assume you're the new renter. Very nice to meet you. I'm zeke yeager ."

"Likewise, pleased to meet you mr yeager. I'm y/n ".

You tried your best to keep calm and professional by greeting him. But the trembling handshake you gave him was showing the complete opposite.

"Shall we go see the appartment ? This way please."

Were you too infatuated by such grace? Or is he really such a sweet, soft and courteous gentleman? You couldn't really tell.

You took a quick glance at his gorgeous profile side. And you completely wished you could take a screenshot with your eyes. His prominent cheekbones added to his manly features. And his fine silver glasses gave him that elegant intellectual aura.

The silence was broken by a deep, gentle :" so.. you're both students.. right?"

" yes. good thing the house is around 10 minutes from the university. That should save us plenty of time ."

" glad to hear that, I actually studied there for more than 6 years, that was before I finally graduated and decided to move to (city name) ."

" I see. May I ask.. why did you move? " you demanded.

" haha don't worry. It hasn't to do with the apartment. It's just that.. You can say I'm an adventurous man." He answered with a bright smile.

" right. I guess it's always tempting to move and see something new..."

You never thought a conversation with a total stranger could be this smooth, warm and relaxing. It unexpectedly didn't feel like a forced out, awkward smalltalk at all. But more like a nice and slow getting to know each other.

"We're finally here." He opened the building's door, Letting you inside and pressed the elevator button.

" I see you like the place already.." He affirmed, a soft smile graced his features, leaving you bewitched.

"Y-yes .. it's pretty welcoming." You added.

Getting out of the elevator, the cute owner took the apartement keys out, opening the door and letting you in.

After checking all the house's functionalities and facilities and discussing the period of your rent. You were ready to pay the first month of the stay until you got surprised by the deposit price. You were so shocked that you had to pay around two thousand five hundrend dollars along with the actual rent.

" I'm not sure we can actually afford that.. " I said, feeling somehow disappointed and lost.

" I know, a lot of people complain about the deposit price. I wish I could make an exeption but the price is fixed by the building's owner. He has the majority of control over that."

" and.. I guess it can't be payed in installments. can it ?"

" i'm afraid not." He retorted, quite concerned by your defeated aura.

" that's really infortunate. I was looking forward to settle here. But anyway, it was good getting to know you mr Yeager."

Hiding your frustration, you were ready to leave when his calm, reassuring voice stopped you . " maybe , we can help each other out after all..."

You turned back, looking for a further explanation when he carried on :" I can get to pay the deposit for you. And you'll have to give me a service in return.."

"okay.. and the service is ...? " you asked, being both curious and excited.

The blonde walked to the door and locked it, his silver eyes never leaving yours.

"Mr yeager..."

" Oh can we stop with the formalities now little one. If we finally agree to make a deal we should get more familiar to each other. Shouldn't we ?" He let out in a deep virile voice, causing your heart to throb numerous times.

Walking closer towards you, he stood and leaned over, whispering in your ear : " If I said I'm feeling sad and lonely today, Would you agree to entertain me ?"

He was so close you could barely register his request. Close enough to notice his irises fixed on yours, staring at your soul and then travelling a little downwards, presumably staring at your lips. You were ready to explode when his big hand landed on your chin, long slender fingers carressing it and driving you so crazy you started babbling some nearly inaudible nonsense.

" i mean.. I.I could ... I don't know.. I-"

" shh, no need to get confused, I'm here with you". a calloused thumb landed on your lips, caressing them with a gentle yet insisting motion.

Your mind shut down, leaving you comptelely blank. God, you got lost in his eyes again. You kept staring like an idiot, letting his thumb make its way through your lips and next thing you knew you were feeling his finger on your sensitive tongue. You never did this before. But why did it feel so natural with him ? Why didn't you resist at all ? How did you agree to this ?  Questions kept bringing on other questions inside your crushed mind. The betraying heat kept rising to your cheeks by the minute, and you couldn't control your intense breathing anymore.

You felt like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. Your consciousness stopped reacting when his face started closing up to yours.

" I believe we got ourselves a deal then? "

" i.. I mean-"

The blonde's delicious lips crushed on yours in a swift motion, his huge hands left to pull you closer pushing you against his large warm chest and making you feel so small and helpless.

It didn't take long for you to feel his soft warm tongue playing with yours. His refreshing minty breath was mixed with a faint hint of cigarette. You couldn't help but enlace your arms around his neck, trying to regain some balance. The sloppy wet kiss  you shared ended with your mouths parting in a wet noise, a glistening string of saliva connecting his dark red tongue to yours, Leaving you breathless.

"You're rather shy and blushy princess... I like it." Zeke leaned close to your sensitive neck, started peppering kisses from your cheeks down your neck and all around your clavicle . His warm breath on your exposed chest made you shiver, feeling your wetness already pooling between your legs. You started rubbing your thighs toghether in a search for some relief. The sudden thought of the rent crossed your mind again.

" Zeke .."

" yes sweetheart, say my name "

" what about the rent ... what should I do now ?"

"little pumpkin is still afraid." You trembled when he leaned over to lick your earlobe before carrying " consider this house yours, princess " .

You couldn't hide your relief after hearing his words. You looked back at him, the perfect pale skin of his cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink. His cute ears were so red you thought they were about to blow off. His glasses were threatening to fall off the cute tip of his sharp nose. And you felt so proud seeing the mess you left at his golden strands. Some of them falling sexily on his eyes.

" I need this off" he tugged at your shirt , raising your arms gently and sliding it up your shivering body. It was so embarrassing you instantly hid your face. Letting out some insatisfied whines.

"gorgeous" he lets out, eyes contemplating your breasts, still hidden behind your bra. Still closing your eyes, you felt yourself being lifted in a bridal style. Zeke's strong arms placed you on the comfy couch of the living room. He stood up and took of his coat, throwing it away. His black pullover was next, revealing his toned chest, shredded abs and prominent V line . You wished you could keep this addictive view in yout mind forever. His godly body hovered around you like a shield. You leaned back , staring at the enchanting male before you, unbuckling his belt.

You were probabely too distracted by his beauty to notice the huge tent that was forming in his pants. His hand reached beneath his boxers, freeing his massive cock from it's confinements.

" like what you see ?" He winked at you, leaving you speaking gibberish again.

" zeke...it- it's not gonna .."

He cut you out, taking off your jeans in a quick move, leaving you in your black laced panties. " already soaked aren't we? What kind of a slut gets her pussy that wet just from a damn kiss?"

He rubbed his fingers against your clothed cunt before swiping your panties to the side. your clit was swollen and flushed, desperate for attention. The handsome male leaned until he faced your pussy. He spread your legs even wider, adding to your growing embarassment.

" goshh, look at how much slick is between your pussy lips,..filthy.." he slid his fingers between them.

Never leaving your innocent eyes, he puckered his lips, opened his mouth and spat on your naked pussy. You nearly passed out when he started french kissing it. Looking at it with such hunger and lust, he slid his longue tongue in your fluttering hole, driving his index and middle fingers in the process. His thick and now wet beard felt so good stinging your plush thighs.

" zeke ahhh, wait... omg zeke it feels.. Ahhhh " your moans started getting louder and louder. 

"Whine for me baby.."

His experienced fingers massaged your spongey insides, hitting spots you never knew your pussy had. You were drooling like a dumb baby, eyes rolling to the back of your head and breath hitching in your breast.

"Zeeeeke.. uh- i'm ahh i'm gonna cum, it feels so good... so good i'm cumming .."

"Yes baby, cream on my fucking tongue."

It wasn't long until you released all over his hand, his tongue was painted with cum. He shamelessly swallowed it, licking his fingers passionately as if he was tasting an elixir. He leaned to kiss you again, cum and drool still running down his messy beard. Its cute hairs tickling your cheeks and chin made you chuckle.

He took your dripping panties away, threw them somewhere across the room and slid his hands below your back, unclasping your bra.

" I need to take it off, but I really do like the cute ribbons though..." he complimented your cute bra.

" t-thank youu.." the shyness creeped inside you again. But it was replaced with surprise when he buried his head deep between your breasts like a starving baby. growling and grunting, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. He kept lapping at them, looking at you with burning lust, taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking the other under his fingerpads.

"Are you ready, sweet pie? Wanna take my cock for me ?"

"Y-yes"

"Yes who ?"

"Yes daddy ."

"It's daddy from now on, little one"

Feeling yourself , yu bent over for him, giving him a perfect view of your bare cunt.

" hurry daddy, I can't wait anymore..."

"As you wish, princess"

Within seconds, you felt his hands settling on your hips, his firm cock sliding slowly past your hungry hole.

" it hurtss, daddy .. it hurts..."

" shh, it's ok princess, you're too tense.. relax for daddy.."

The pain suddenly turned into a pure bliss as he bottomed down, making you moan his name like a lullaby.

"I'm going to move baby.." he said, cupping your cheek in his soft palms. 

His cock was ramming inside you so deliciously you felt your drool dribbling again, his strong silhouette leaning on you, hugging you with one arm and caressing your stomach with the other. Seeing his bulge through your tummy, you felt so full and loved by him.

" look baby, look how deep i'm inside you"

" please cum inside me daddy, I want it pumping in my stomach ."

your words sent him to the edge; hitched breath, loud growls and harsh slaps landing on your ass. It felt so good your tears started gushing along your face.

" hnnghhh wanna take ... fuck ahhh .. take daddy's seed inside you ? Tell me slut " he squeezed your face between his large fingers, earning a whine from you.

" mmhmmm ... ahhhh"

" use your words when you talk to me"

" I want your cum deep inside me, daddy"

His thrusts became hysteric, making you shake. both of you moaning loudly, not caring about anybody hearing.

"Ahhhnghhh shiiiit , fuck yeaaah" the golden daddy came in thick white strings inside you. Shoving it all up your womb. You give up, letting your orgasm wash over you in a shameless moan. All your juices mixed with his sticky huge load, starting to spill from your greedy cunt.

Unable to move anymore, you collapsed on the couch. Trembling and breathing heavily. Zeke doing the same, he went to catch his neglected coat and wrapped it around your naked body, along with his strong arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.

" I guess having an expensive rent has its perks after all". He teased, laying a soft gentle kiss on your forehead.

" yup, you get to have a daddy for free". You whispered.

Note : I would really appreciate the feedback on my work so feel free to comment down.