#since it's a bit hard to tell in the harsh lighting yes his tie is orange <3

[quirkle2]

a man has panicked at this disco or whatever

[tatakaebomb]

could you pretty please do a koko x reader smut?? I was thinking of y/n purposely making koko jealous and then when they get home a bit punishment waits for her? like she gets spanked, humiliated, etc.

Hii! YES! I’m sorry i took so long to reply, i hope you enjoy though <3 - ren

tw : mean dom!Koko, impact play ( spanking ), unprotected sex, orgasm control, edging, humiliation, creampie, degrading, all that good stuff.

fluff at the end bc he would :)

NSFW 18+

wc: 1.3k

Here you were, sitting on Mikey's lap while the the club light's shine on your boyfriend's annoyed expressing, giggling at the obscene things Bonten's leader was whispering in your ear.

You smirk, watching Koko grow more frustrated by the minute as the back and forth between you and Mikey went on, the final straw however was watching you bite your lip in excitement at something the man said.

You almost felt kind of bad, watching him bite the inside of his cheek trying to stay calm as he tries to ignore you.

Koko deserved it though, you got all dolled up only for him to pay little to no attention to you throughout the night, mindlessly staying on his phone and leaving the club constantly to pick up phone calls. He left you with Mikey all this time, of course something was bound to spark up between you two.

You didn't have much interest in Bonten's leader, nor did you want to actually take it further than flirting, but you knew how Koko got when he got jealous and that in itself excited you.

Maybe its wrong to play with his nerves like this, and you realised that the second you got pulled off Mikey's lap and dragged outside into Koko's car.

"Koko, what the fuck?" You innocently say with a pout, crossing your arms as he begins driving away.

You continuously asked him questions, getting no answers got you more mad with each passing second he decided to give you the silent treatment.

His phone rings again as per usual while he parks the car in front of your house, the massive gates closing behind the car as he picks up his phone. You scoff, deciding you've had enough.

" Since you wanna stay on your fucking phone all night-" You get interrupted by his hand gripping firmly on your thigh, his death glare making you gulp.

"Sorry, just a second-"

He says into the phone before he puts it on mute to lean over to you, hovering his lips against your ear.

" Go inside and shut the fuck up”

You nod hesitantly before opening the car door, hearing Koko resume his call.

You sigh, opening the door to the mansion before stepping in, plopping down on the couch as you turn on the TV.

You hear the door creek behind you, and with no time to look back, you feel your hair being pulled as a hand wraps around your throat, forcing you to look up.

“ Now tell me, who gave you the right to interrupt me like that mm? “ Koko looks down at you, sinister smile creeping on his face as you struggle for air.

“‘M sorry Hajime” You choke out, your heart beating out of your chest as he lets go and loosens his tie and takes it off before taking a seat next to you.

You look at him confused until he grabs you, bending you over his legs with your ass up.

He shoves the material of the tie in your mouth as he lifts your dress up over your ass, grabbing roughly at the skin before giving it a light tap.

“ You want to fuck my boss, do you ? “

His calm tone contrasts the harsh slap that comes down on your ass causing you to bite down hard, the material muffling your cries.

“ N-No “ You mumble, gasping and grabbing on the lower part of his thigh when you feel another slap land.

“ But that’s what you were doing back then weren’t you ?” He caresses the skin on your ass gently, giving you a false sense of security before slapping it again, this time harder.

“Koko-“ You scream out, tears forming out the corners of your eyes as he chuckles.

“ Or is it you were just a desperate whore for my attention ? “

He slides your panties to the side, slowly parting your lower lips with two fingers as he coos in faux sympathy when he sees the arousal between your thighs.

“ How fucking pathetic, you’re dripping “ He shoves his fingers inside, causing you to moan as you fuck yourself back.

“Mm, yeah ? Greedy slut “ He takes his fingers out, causing you to whine loudly at the empty feeling, only to wince in pain when you feel the impact of his palm on your ass again.

“ You only get what i give you”

You cry out his name, lifting your ass closer to his hand in hopes of getting some friction.

Thats when you get pulled up by your neck, straddling on his lap as he begins grinding you down on his clothed cock. He wipes a tear out the corner of your eyes as he pulls you down into a kiss, and you moan out a “thank you” when he continues to give you the friction you wanted, your stomach curling.

You get pulled up by your hips at the very last second, and you look into his dark pupils a cry of desperation leaving your lips as you pout.

“ Dumb whores don’t deserve to cum ” He smirks, watching as your eyes beg him.

“ Please, please im sorry please-“ You mumble out, trying to escape his grip only to be dropped down on his hard bulge, a small groan leaving his lips as his hand hovers down to his zipper.

“ I don’t hear you” He grins, watching your eyes light up when he takes his cock out.

You chant begs until he lowers you down on his cock, taking his hands off you and crossing them, watching you grip tighter onto his shoulders.

You look at him, a small frown on your lips causing him to smile as he gives you one small peck.

“ Go on , move “

You don’t break eye contact, struggling to take him as you try bouncing up and down. He doesn’t lift a finger, watching in amusement as you moan broken cries.

“ ‘Please, ‘m sorry daddy~ “ You pout, watching his eyes light up as he grabs onto your waist, helping you bounce up and down on him as his lips latches onto yours. You moan into the kiss, feeling your orgasm build up again causing you to break it.

“ G’nna cum- shit “ You pant out, causing him to fuck up into you harder as your ass claps against him.

“ Fuck- cum you fucking brat” He groans with a light slap to your ass, sending you over the edge.

You throw your head back as you tighten down on him, toes curling as you chant his name as he fucks you through your orgasm.

You feel him twitch inside you, looking down at him as sweat formed on his forehead, cat like eyes hazily staring up at you as he lets out a loud grunt.

“ Shit- Y/N” He bites on his bottom lip, gripping your ass firmly as his strokes become sloppier, eventually dropping you down completely.

You tangle a hand in his silver hair as you feel him fill you up with his cum, tired pants leaving your lips once he finishes .

You bury your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the cum drip back down as he slowly pulls out of you. wrapping his arms tightly around your body.

“ You know those calls,” He begins, and you mumble a small“ mm” into his neck.

“Guess what, baby ?” His tired voice whispers against your ear as his head rests on your shoulder causing you to giggle.

“ What, your side bitches need money again ?” You roll your eyes, sarcastic tone rolling off your lips when he parts his lips to speak.

“ I just made us half a mil, dumbass “

He grins, and you pull up parting your lips in shock as your tired eyes stare into his.

“ R-Really? “ You ask, and he nods smiling, pulling you down into a peck and raising his eyebrow once he pulls away.

“Don’t ever try to pull that shit with Mikey again, i almost lost that “

You frown, pulling him into another kiss.

“ I just needed you “

He chuckles against your lips,

“ I know you did “

[jjaejeno]

red

pairing: jeno x reader

summary: vampire jeno... girl just read it 

word count: 1.9k

warnings: biting, mentions of blood, calling jeno sir, jeno calling you princess, snowballing, breeding kink, choking

Jeno is taking you to a gala tonight, nervous as you take another look at yourself in the dress he got for you. It’s a red maxi v-neck with a slit, hugging your figure perfectly. You look pretty damn good in this dress if you do say so yourself. Jeno looks absolutely amazing in his suit, mouth watering at the sight of him. The slit is a bit higher than you’re used to, but you look and feel sexy, especially with the black heels for tonight.

As you’re fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror, Jeno’s hands slink around your waist, telling you you look beautiful. He gets a whiff of your perfume, filling him with the scent of you, his favorite. You decide to go for an updo hair style tonight, showing off your neck, teasing him in just the right way. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, distracting you from what you’re doing. He holds you a little tighter, hand sliding down your exposed thigh.

“I knew you’d look good in this dress. Red is my favorite color on you,” his warm breath fanning your skin.

“Thank you baby, I love it.” Turning around to face him, you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss. He quickly deepens the kiss as he gets lost in your taste. His hand continues to smooth over your thigh, lifting it to hold around his waist. You love the feeling of his hands on your body, always needy for his touch.

Jeno pulls away slightly, tugging on your bottom lip. “I can tell you’re getting excited.”

You almost scoff, sliding your hand down his front to palm him, feeling his hard member. “So are you,” you shoot back.

“And what are we gonna do about that?” His question is laced with lust, already loosening his tie.

“Mmm, I have an idea…” your voice trails, batting your lashes at him not so innocently, checking your nonexistent watch on your wrist. He cocks an eyebrow at you, interested in what you have in mind. You drop to your knees, looking at him with those pretty eyes that he can’t say no to. He takes his suit off, unbuttoning his white shirt as you wait patiently on your knees for him. You run your hands up and down his thighs, watching intently as he finishes the last button, perfect abs now on display. His hands move to his belt, sliding his pants down and pulling his member out. You lick your lips at the sight, sticking your tongue out for him. He slaps the tip against your tongue a few times, sliding into your warm mouth so you can suck. Wrapping your lips around him, you move your head back and forth along his length. You know he loves eye contact while you suck his dick, groaning softly at how good your mouth feels. You move faster, using more tongue and hollowing your cheeks. One hand rests on his thigh as the other strokes what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Your knees start to hurt after a while, but you don’t mind. After a few minutes, Jeno warns you he’s close. “Don’t swallow,” he commands. You feel his warm cum spilling into your mouth, still moving your head back and forth as he closes his eyes. After pulling away from him, he cups your chin, holding your face up. “Let me see.”

You open your mouth, showing him you didn’t swallow just like he said. “That’s my girl,” he hums. Jeno pulls you up by your chin, kissing you, not caring at all if it got messy. His cum slides down your chin and neck, making you feel filthy but you love it. You swallow what you can as Jeno takes advantage of your lips, tasting himself on your tongue. He pulls away from your lips to lick your neck, God this is so hot.

He turns swiftly, grabbing your hips and slamming your back against the wall closest to you. He dives into your neck again, licking and grazing your skin with his teeth. The feeling of his sharp fangs sends chills down your spine, the thought of him biting you turning you on immensely. Jeno pulls the straps of your dress down, attaching his lips to your breasts. His hands are cold to the touch, nipples quickly getting hard as he kneads your mounds.

He sucks on one, swirling his tongue around the bud and lightly grazing it with his fangs. It makes you squirm underneath his touch, doing the same to the other one. You hold him by his shoulders, getting wetter with each second.

“You gonna let me fuck you before we go princess?” He kisses your skin softly, currently straining against his pants. “Of course sir,” he smirks at your affirmation, knowing you want him just as badly as he wants you.

He slips his hand in between your legs, coating his fingers in your arousal. “Damn, always so wet for me huh?” Your cheeks flush at his comment as he slides down to his knees to take your heels off for you. He knows how to tease you so well, dragging his fangs along your inner thigh as he lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. He stops short of your core, locking eyes with you as he bares his fangs again. Your heart is racing, begging him with your eyes to do something.

“Tell me what you want,” he licks your skin, driving you crazy. He knows what you want but wants to hear you say it.

“Bite me please,” you sound so sweet, he just can’t resist. You let out a sharp gasp, closing your eyes as he sinks his fangs into your inner thigh, the pain instantly making your knees buckle. If it wasn’t for his hand on your waist to hold you up, you’d fall over. It hurts but it’s such a different kind of pain mixed with pleasure, the feeling of him feeding from you makes your mind hazy. A wave of arousal coursing through you, you’re like putty in his hands, submitting to his touch. Jeno just can’t get enough of you, blood trickling down his chin. The taste of your blood makes him feel alive like no other.

Your legs feel like jello, body going limp as he continues to feed from you. Jeno stops, knowing his limits. He licks the bite marks to stop the bleeding, watching as your chest heaves. He has to hold you close to support you as he stands up again, wiping your blood from his chin. “I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He turns you around, pushing you up against the wall again. You brace your hands on the wall as he moves your dress and panties to the side, teasing his member along your slit. Jeno always manages to make your knees weak, grazing his teeth along your back. “Still want it?”

“Yes sir, always,” bending over and poking your ass out more for him. Jeno lands a harsh slap on your ass cheek, the sting making you moan softly. You spread your legs a little further as he slides himself along your folds, gathering your wetness on his tip. “Gonna fuck you so hard baby,” he slides right in, letting out a loud moan at the stretch. “I know that’s what you want.” He fills you all the way up, stuffing you full of his length. He doesn’t even give you time to answer before he’s ramming into you, hips moving like fury.

“Oh fuck, shit Jeno, I –” you can barely get your words out as he fucks you dumb. The grip he has on your hips is sure to leave marks, the sound of skin slapping and your whines filling the room. He loves the sight of you bent over for him, ass jiggling with each thrust. “Such a dirty little slut, you like it when I fuck you hmm?”

“Yes sir I love it, love it so much,” he’s so deep in you, reaching places that make your toes curl. Jeno is motivated by your moans, holding on to you tighter, fucking you even deeper than you thought possible. All you can do is say yes yes yes, about to lose your mind as he uses your body the way he likes. In the next second, Jeno is bending you over the arm of the couch, holding your arms behind your back with one hand, hips never missing a beat. You feel helpless, unable to move as he works your body so deliciously.

He props one of your knees up on the arm of the couch, pounding into you without a single sign of getting tired. You can’t keep up with his movements, screaming as he finds your clit with his free hand. “We still have somewhere to be princess. Why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me?” You feel like you could explode any second, Jeno knowing your body so well. He slows his hips down when your legs start to shake, whining pathetically as your vision goes white. He lets go of your arms, sliding in and out of you slowly as you catch your breath. You turn your head to look at him, moving your hips back and forth. Jeno watches you ride him, biting his lip at your tight walls.

“Cum in me please sir,” you beg, luring him in with those seductive eyes.

Jeno grabs you by the neck, pulling your back towards his chest. He glides his fangs across the sweet spot on your neck, making you shudder. His other hand rests on your belly, sliding all the way in to feel his member in your lower abdomen. “Gonna give you all of it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you princess? You want me to give you a baby?” He presses down on your abdomen, the act so simple but so hot. You love it when he talks like that, nodding your head a little too eagerly.

Jeno still has a grip on your neck, choking you as he picks up the pace of his hips again. “I’ll fuck you full of cum since you want it so bad.” You rest your head on his shoulder, mouth left open in a silent moan. “Your pussy is so good, gonna take everything I give you right?” Is that even a question, of course you are.

“Can’t wait to put a baby in here,” he shoots you a devilish smirk, the thought making your insides tingle. You grab his arm, needing something to hold on to as he abuses your core. “Bite me again please,” so desperate for him and he relishes in that. He tilts your head to the side, biting you on your shoulder in perfect view for everyone to see when you get to the gala. You squeeze his arm for dear life, his fangs feel like fire on your neck, lighting your entire body up. He closes his eyes, basking in the taste of your blood. His hips begin to stutter as his release coats your walls, turning you both into a mess.

Jeno stops drinking, licking the two new wounds and lapping up the blood that slid down your back. He pulls out, watching his cum leak out of you, squeezing your legs together to keep the mess to a minimum. You turn around to face him, thinking how incredibly sexy he looks with blood on his chin and lips. “I think red is my favorite color on you too,” you say with a wink.

[nessaxc]

___________________________________

Date Night || Gojo Satoru

Gojo takes you out to dinner, but the flirty waitress at the restaurant really gets on your nerves, so Gojo is determined to assure you that he only has eyes for you.

~ Words: 2.5k

~ NSFW 18+

___________________________________

"I'm glad I got to see you tonight, I've missed my princess," he leaned across the table to nuzzle his nose against yours gently, and you returned the same motion with a soft giggle.

"I've missed you too," you replied, "it's about time you made some time for me," you added.

"Well, you know, Tokyo keeps me busy," he told you with a chuckle, "but I had to take my best girl out, I know how lonely she gets without me around," he teased.

You giggled and propped your elbow up on the dinner table, balancing your chin in your hand as you held his gaze. He was smiling and shaking his head at you, mimicking your pose, only he rested both elbows on the table and cupped his face with his hands as he looked at you from across the table.

"You look beautiful in that dress by the way, but what else is new, huh?" he winked and broke eye contact for a moment to admire the dress that perfectly hugged your figure, "I'm glad you wore it."

You giggled again at that and twirled a small section of hair around your index finger, smiling down at your lap for a moment before you looked back up at him.

"I'm glad you wore that suit and tie. You should wear it more often, because you clean up pretty well," you grinned and leaned forward slightly to whisper, "by the way, you're really pretty too."

"Am I really pretty?" he joked and batted his lashes, letting his jaw hang slack with a smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth over the way you instantly cracked up laughing. He chuckled airily as he continued to look you up and down, and you had to turn away in attempt to hide the deep blossoming of your cheeks.

"Yes, you're very pretty," you said with a soft chuckle when you turned back to him.

..

"Good evening, can I get you anything?"

A young waitress made her way onto the scene before Gojo could respond to you, and she appeared to be addressing just him rather than both of you. She beamed brightly at him and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting out a hint of a giggle that you couldn't help but roll your eyes at.

"Some menus would be nice," he grinned up at her and she flaunted her smile right back at him, making it a mission to maintain eye contact for as long as possible and throw in a bat of the lashes here and there.

"I'll go get those for you right now," she bowed her head and smiled softly, but she didn't leave until she'd make a point of leaning towards him slightly to tell him, "by the way, that tie looks great on you, really compliments your complexion."

She was already flirting with him right in front of you whilst being so brazen about it, and it was really taking everything in you not to totally snap. You didn't want dinner to be spoiled by your temper, though, you could already feel yourself starting to lose your appetite because you were red hot with anger right now. You sat there silently and waited for her to leave, gritting your teeth and casting your gaze downward the entire time.

"Thank you very much," he thanked her before she walked away and when he turned back around to face you, he was greeted by raised brows, pursed lips and your eyes glimmering for the wrong reasons. You half-smirked at him and cleared your throat whilst picking at your nails to avoid looking up at him.

"I think she's expecting a tip from you tonight," you managed to make a joke out of it and mustered a small laugh.

He chuckled lightly and acted completely dismissive about it, waving it off as her following some sort of transcript, "It's just service with a smile, Y/N."

He insisted, but you just forced a smile on your face. You fiddled with the cutlery that rested to your side and toyed with the napkin as well, offering yourself a distraction rather than look up at him for the moment.

"Yeah, too many smiles in your direction, though, if you ask me," you sassed, and he laughed loudly at that.

"Babe, something the matter?" he raised an eyebrow curiously, an amused grin on his face. Before you had the time to open your mouth and retort, she soon returned with the menus.

She carelessly laid yours down in front of you while she actually handed Gojo his, making sure to brush her hand over his as she did so. You glared at her but your look went missed, and you were doing a pretty good job of keeping your mouth shut so far, no matter how badly you wanted to tell this girl to back off.

She started babbling on about something that he should try on the menu, ensuring to flash him her smile and bat her lashes some more. She was giggling like he had told the funniest joke, and you were clutching onto a fork tightly with a hand, thinking about digging it deep into her neck. Gojo was a bad influence on you. She brought her hand closer to his so she could flip through the pages and show him exactly what she was describing. You cleared your throat and decided to speak up, because this girl was getting on your last nerve.

"Could you give us a few moments to decide what we're having? Thank you," you gave her possibly the most painfully forced smile you could muster, somehow managing to keep a level head when she withdrew her hand and acknowledged you for the first time since she'd stop at your table. She simply nodded and smiled meekly before walking away, and Gojo’s bright blue eyes shot towards you to give you a look that was nothing short of sheer surprise at how sharp you'd been in your manner of speech.

"Did I miss something?" he cracked up laughing, "My little kitten's got a sharp set of claws, eh?" he remarked before his laughter starting to die down. "I thought she was a rather nice lady," he said with another chuckle.

He scanned over the menu to find a dish that stood out to him. You squinted at him and leaned into him, lightly bringing the menu down to have him look you in the eyes instead.

"Really, Satoru? I wouldn't class the light touches on the hand, the needless giggling and overall acting like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush as just 'being nice'," you snapped slightly, "she's flirting with you, a lot, and I'm sick of it."

"Oh, I see where this is going," he said with a knowing smirk that stretched its way across his lips a few seconds later. You noticed this and your hand targeted your menu in an instant as some form of shield to hide behind to avoid the stares he was giving you, and he lowered your menu down just like you had done to him.

"I think somebody's jealous when she really doesn't need to be," he sang and kept his eyes trained on your face. "So what if she's flirting a little bit? I'm not interested in the slightest," he told you, and you heaved a sigh before he continued, "you have nothing to worry about, my sweet," he said with a smirk, amused with your envy.

"Seriously? You mean that?" you asked, nibbling on your lower lip.

"Course I do," he said, "she could be on her knees begging for my cock and I would say no if that'd make you feel better about it," he finished, and you laughed at that.

"I'm not even feeling that hungry anymore," you said, "she's just so irritating," you huffed, and he looked at you like he was thinking of something until his brain hatched an idea.

"Forget about dinner, I know what will cheer you up, c'mon," he stretched his arm out for you to grab his hand, and you quickly took it in yours. He walked with you until you both reached the closest bathroom - the women's room.

"Um, Satoru, I don't think you're supposed to be in here," you quipped with a short giggle.

"Oh trust me, I am," he cooed. Once the door was closed, he lifted you up by your thighs and pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking your neck in little bites and harsh kisses, not caring about the purple marks he left in his wake.

"Satoru," you gasped his name out, much to his delight.

You let out a soft moan of approval through your own lips as you lifted your hips up in absolute desperation, wanting more of him, and wanting it now.

"I only have eyes for you, Y/N, you and only you," he told you as he continued to cover your neck in wet kisses, and you couldn't help lean your head back to give him easier access. Realizing that you both were still out in the open, he carried you into the bathroom stall, pressing you up against the nearest and sturdiest wall.

He tugged his pants down from his hips and quickly pushed his boxers down to his knees, just far enough to allow his thick and fully hard member to spring up. He nearly ripped your panties down your thighs and threw them to the floor, holding you up with one hand and using the other to glide up your thigh, one finger slipping up your wet folds. He grinned knowingly before he leaned in to growl in your ear, "Look at how wet for me you already are," he hummed, "mm, how bad do you want me?"

Just the slightest touch drove you absolutely wild, and you seemed to forget everything that took place before he brought you in this stall. You keened in the back of your throat and rocked your hips down against his finger, moaning out, "Fuck me, Satoru. I need you so bad. Please!" you cried.

"Well when you say it like that, I don't see how I could say no," he cooed. He grasped his member firmly until he was lined up to your entrance, exhaling loudly as he crouched down to push in. He took his time entering your body at first, watching the pleasure overcome your features. Once you had adjusted to his girth, he set a rough pace, taking you quickly in broad deep strokes that jarred your body and caused your head to slam back into the wall as you surrendered yourself to his movements, hips grinding forward in an attempt to keep tempo. He doesn't waste time going slow, knowing you both needed relief fast.

Grasping his shoulders tightly, you moaned, the volume increasing with each thrust until you were sure you would both get caught.

"That's it, let the whole goddamn restaurant know who's fucking you," he managed to say between his own moans and grunts. "You're doing so good, baby, so good," he praised.

You answered with an even louder moan, shoving your hips forward in a demand for him to go faster, grinding your clit against his pelvis whenever you could.

"Your cunt feels so fucking perfect, squeezing me like this, fuck," he ground out.

He obliged your command, snapping his hips into yours relentlessly, the sounds spilling from your lips urging him on.

"You look so good baby, you always do," he uttered through a pant, "you fucking drive me crazy." He quickly added, "Do you know how beautiful you look when you're all stretched out on my cock?"

One hand gripped onto your hair and he tugged backwards just enough to show you dominance as he pounded into you with no mercy, the sounds of your high pitched moans bouncing off the walls, mixed with his deep grunts and the sound of hot skin slapping against skin.

"Look at you, you're always so fucking pretty, so fucking perfect like this," he told you. His hips moved in the most sinful way, filling you up just perfectly, and he seemed to find that special spot inside you so skillfully, making you cry out in ecstasy.

"You like that, baby? You like how good I make you feel? Good girl, moaning for me and showing the entire diner who's gonna make you come," he hissed into your ear as his thrusts became more erratic, slamming into you again and again as he kept his wild pace up.

"Mmmm!" you hummed. You threw your head back and arched your torso sharply, screaming out in pleasure when your body started to quake with the sensation of your orgasm barreling towards you. His fingers left little purple prints on your hips at how tight he was squeezing your hips, knowing you were both close to your climax.

"Show me how much you like it, come for me," he rasped.

He maintained the angle of his thrusts, continually hitting a sensitive spot within your body until you were convulsing in his arms, orgasm rocking you to the very core. He wasn't far behind, taken over the edge by the tight clenching or your walls around his member.

Exhaling loudly, he relaxed his body against yours as you both came down from your peaks. The wall was the only thing keeping you both up as you wilt, exhausted from your spontaneous lovemaking. Finding the energy to pull back, he kissed you gently, running his fingers through your hair to fix the disrupted locks. You smiled into the kiss, body buzzing from your orgasm and heart glowing at his gestures.

You both cleaned up as best as you could in the stall, he helped adjust the skirt of your dress before moving to fix his own disarrayed hair.

"You had no reason to be jealous, Y/N, like I said I only have eyes for your pretty little face," he nuzzled his nose against yours, and you did the same in return, laughing with each other.

"Thank you, Satoru," you said with a soft giggle when you stepped out of the bathroom stall with him.

"Anything for you, babe," he told you as he intertwined his fingers with yours, walking out with you, "now let's go eat," he started, "we can even put on a little show for her under the table so she knows not to mess with you," he suggested with a loud laugh.

"I like the sound of that," you replied with a broad smirk on your face. That wasn't a bad idea.

___________________________________

[charlies-gillespie]

a quiet wedding | charlie gillespie

paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie

summary: Charlie and reader get quietly married in an intimate ceremony with only their family and closest friends

requested: no

length: shorter

rating: PG

warnings: a few emotional moments (& very fluffy), a sexual joke or two

!! MY GIF - give creds if used !!

MASTERLIST

author’s note: prompts list is coming at noon est today. i got it done earlier than friday so it’s going up today

another author’s note: “je t’aime” means “i love you” in french. “je t’adore” means “i adore you” in french

It happened so quickly. From the day you got engaged to Charlie until today took about three months. It happened quickly but you know that you want to spend the rest of your life with Charlie. You wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal if you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life with Charlie.

The fans know of your relationship with Charlie, even though you both have kept your relationship mostly out of the public eye. After a slip up or two from you both, fans caught on so you both confirmed your relationship to stop the speculation. Neither of you said anything about the engagement or about your pending wedding. You wear the engagement ring on your necklace while in public and on your finger when alone with Charlie or your friends or your family.

It’s not that you don’t want the fans to know, but you’re both 22-years-old and really young. There’s nothing wrong with getting married young but there are a lot of people with harsh opinions out there, and you’ve always been sensitive to harsh comments even though you’re an actress and singer.

So, you and Charlie decided to get married in the backyard of your childhood home, away from any prying eyes. Your parents still live there and the backyard has a beautiful view of the mountain range since your parents live very close to the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania. The house is pretty big since your parents both make good money as doctors.

You get ready in your childhood bedroom. Your bridesmaids, who consist of Savannah and your sister, both stand in lilac colored gowns as Savannah curls your hair. She puts little white flowers throughout the curls to decorate the style a bit.

Your sister works on your makeup and you try to keep yourself composed. You’re marrying the love of your life today after a three month engagement but a four year relationship. You’ve waited so long for this day and it’s finally here. You can’t wait to say ‘I do’ to Charlie in a few moments.

“Okay,” Savannah says. “Hair is done.”

Your sister closes her eyeshadow palette and says, “And so is makeup. We’re ready for the dress.”

Curious, you open your eyes and look in the mirror. You smile at the sight. Your sister did a silver smokey eye look with a nude lip color. Your curls are loose with the little white flowers scattered throughout.

There’s a knock on the door as your sister lays the dress across your bed. Savannah goes and answers the door. “Mrs. L/N,” she says. “Come on in. We were about to put the dress on.”

You turn in your seat to see your mother in a light pink dress that ends at her knees. She wears a black belt around her waist and black heels. She smiles and when she smiles, you see yourself. You and your mother are practically twins. She holds a veil with a tiara on it.

“Wow,” your mother gasps. “You look so beautiful, darling.”

Your eyes are still on the veil with the tiara in her hands. “What’s that?” you ask.

She looks down and says, “Your something blue, something old, and something borrowed. There’s a little blue gem on the tiara. This veil was your grandmothers, mine, and now yours.”

Savannah takes the tiara from your mother, putting it in your hair and securing it with a bobby pin or two. “I love it,” you announce. “It’s beautiful.”

The girls in your room all smile at you. Your sister unzips the bag with the dress and says, “Okay. We have about twenty minutes before the ceremony begins so let’s go.”

The dress you bought is a white strapless mermaid style satin wedding dress, which means it hugs your body until it flares out at your knees. The fabric from your knees up is ruched, which makes it look bunched up in a way. A diamond belt sits on your waist to sparkle the dress up a bit.

You watch in the mirror as your sister works at tying up the dress behind you. The dress hugs your figure and shows off your curves.

“Look at you,” your mother says. “Charlie is a very lucky man.” You can hear your mother choking back a few tears.

With a little laugh, you say, “Please don’t cry because then I’ll cry.”

Your sister chimes in and says, “Please don’t ruin my masterpiece. I worked hard on that.”

All four of you in the room laugh when there’s another knock on your door. Your sister opens it. You look and see Owen in the doorway. “Everything’s ready when you are, Y/N. By the way, you look very pretty.”

“Thank you, Owen,” you say, smiling. “We’ll be down in a moment.” He nods and closes the door.

It’s a very small wedding. Your parents, older sister, older brothers, blood aunts, uncles, first cousins, grandparents, and their plus ones on your side. Charlie’s parents, younger sister, older brothers, blood aunts, uncles, first cousins, grandparents, and their plus ones on his side. Plus Owen, Jeremy, Savannah, Cheyenne, Booboo, Madison, Sacha, and several other cast members from Julie and the Phantoms that you and Charlie consider yourself close with were invited, plus their plus ones. There’s maybe fifty or so people here. Compared to the probably two hundred or so that would have come if you invited every single family member and friend the two of you have.

With a sigh, you leave the room with your mother, Sav, and your sister. You wait in the dining room. Owen, Jeremy, and your father wait in there already. You look out the window to see everyone making conversation in the backyard in their seats. The white arch decorated with flowers looks nice with the mountains as a backdrop. You can see Charlie speaking with the ordained minister that is officiating the wedding under the arch as he waits for you.

Your mother hugs you and says, “You look stunning, Y/N. This is your day. Enjoy it.”

“Thank you, momma,” you say, holding back tears of your own now. Your mom pulls back from the hug and kisses your nose. You smile and she walks away.

Jeremy pairs up with your sister and Owen pairs up with Savannah. Your father walks over with your bouquet of white and lilac roses. “You ready, Y/N?” You nod and look up at your father. He looks very nice in his suit and his hair neatly combed back.

The pairs begin to walk out and conversation dies down. Madison plays the piano because you asked and you thought it would make the day more special if she played you down the aisle.

Your father hooks his left arm with your right arm and begins to walk down the “aisle”. The aisle is a space between the two sections of seats decorated with white roses.

As you walk, your eyes are on Charlie. He has a big smile on his face as he watches you. His hair is in his naturally wavy state and he’s clean shaven. He looks handsome in his suit and tie with a little bouquet of white flowers pinned to his jacket. You can see his big eyes full of happy tears, which spill onto his cheeks even though he tries to hold them back.

When you get to the arch, your father hands you away to Charlie. Mads stops playing when you’re both under the arch and you hand your bouquet back to your sister.

The minister begins, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the love of these two people. If there is some reason to why these two should not be wed, speak up now or forever hold your peace.”

Your eyes don’t leave Charlie’s as no one objects. The minister continues, “If the bride and groom have any vows, they can speak now.”

“I have a few things I’d like to say,” you say, smiling at Charlie. The minister nods and you continue speaking. “Charlie, we met five years ago. We were there for each other before either of us found real fame. I promised you when we started dating that I would be there for you after either of us found real fame. This is me renewing that promise. I promise to love you, to trust you, to be with you forever no matter what. I promise to support any role that you take, or don’t take. I promise to be there for you when you get frustrated at anything, and I promise to love you through your worst days.”

Charlie sniffles a bit and the crowd “awes”. Your fiancé smiles and says, “I don’t know how to top that but here we go. Y/N, je t'aime. Je t’adore. There are so many ways to tell you that I love you and that I adore you in every way possible, but there are not enough ways to tell you that I love and adore you. We met five years ago and I knew then that I’d be standing here with you. I knew that you were the woman I was going to marry one day. We’ve been together for four years now, and I have never taken any day out of the past four years for granted. We’ve created so many memories together. We’ve recently been creating music together. I’m going to be super cheesy when I say it but I’m going to say it anyway. No music is worth making, Y/N, if I’m not making it with you. No memory is worth making, Y/N, if I’m not making it with you. No regrets. Je t’aime, I love you.”

You were able to hold it together until Charlie pulled out the “no music is worth making” line. You loved that line when he said it in the show, and he just pulled it out as he said his vows. You grow antsy, wanting to kiss him already.

The minister says, “Okay, the rings.” Owen pulls them out of his suit pocket. Of course Charlie had to give Owen the rings.

“Repeat after me, Y/N,” the minister says. You nod. “I, Y/N L/N, take thee Charles Gillespie to be my lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, til death do us part.”

With a smile on your face, you say, “I, Y/N L/N, take thee Charles Gillespie to be my lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health, til death do us part.”

You slide Charlie’s silver band onto his left ring finger. The minister says, “Your turn, Charlie. Repeat after me. I, Charles Gillespie, take thee Y/N L/N to be my lawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health, til death do us part.”

Charlie states into your eyes and repeats, “I, Charles Gillespie, take thee Y/N L/N to be my lawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health, til death do us part.”

He slides your silver band onto your left ring finger. Your engagement ring is on your right ring finger.

The minister says, “With the power invested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I pronounce you husband and wife. Charlie, you may kiss your bride.”

Charlie doesn’t hesitate after that. He cups your face in his hands and pulls your lips to his. The crowd cheers as you seal the wedding with a kiss.

***

The backyard is quickly turned into a reception area with a tent and everything. You don’t ever leave Charlie’s side the whole night.

You have your first dance with Charlie as a married couple, dancing to Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran. This was the song you both first danced to when you started dating so to come full circle, you made it your wedding song.

Your head is on his chest as he holds you in his arms. He looks down at you and says, “You look absolutely gorgeous, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve told you that enough times tonight.”

“Just because you can be cheesy, don’t mean you always should be,” you say, looking up at your new husband.

Charlie says, “Well, then to make it less cheesy, I think you look beautiful but you’ll look even more beautiful when that dress is on the floor and you’re underneath me naked.”

You playfully hit his shoulder and say, “Charles Gillespie. Now is not the time for sexual jokes.”

He smirks and says, “You married me. You’ll be hearing them all the time now.”

With a laugh from you both, you lean up and press a light kiss to Charlie’s lips. Both of you share these types of kisses all through the night, until you’re alone in your hotel room in Paris for your two-week long honeymoon.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

I finally finished it!! It only took a million years but it is done so pls enjoy it cause I worked really hard on it :,)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!myungjun, gn!dom!reader, anal (could be pegging but it's gender neutral so it can be whatever you want), degradation, choking (it only happens once for a split second), spanking, dacryphilia, blindfold, bondage, edging, bulging, master kink, use of a vibrator

Looks Are Deceiving

You truly did love your boyfriend with all your heart, and on any other day you would say he was a sweet angel that could do no wrong. Today, however, was not one of those days. You thought it would be fun to take Myungjun with you to a nice restaurant that had recently opened a little ways away but when he started to give you those eyes from across the table, you knew this night would go a little differently than planned.

     "But master~ You look so good tonight, how am I supposed to not think of you like that?" Your boyfriend said with a pout. He even tried to change your mind with a flash of his infamous puppy dog eyes you could never seem to say no to. While you wanted nothing more than to jump on him and give him everything he wanted, you also didn't want to be banned from the fancy restaurant you were currently sitting in. You let out a small sigh of irritation after swallowing the fork full of food you had shoved into your mouth.

     "Baby, I would love to take care of you right now but it isn't the right setting! So finish up eating and we'll get home, but if I hear you ask for it or complain one more time I won't touch you at all." Time seemed to freeze for Myungjun as soon as the words had left your mouth. He couldn't stop his jaw from dropping open slightly as he stared at you. Not touch him? Not touch him at all? You had to be joking. But as he kept watching you peacefully eat your meal he realized you were being dead serious. Your boyfriend let out an agitated huff as he picked at his food, only eating it with a roll of his eyes when you would send a glare his way.

     To be honest you had never really realized how often you would give into Myungjun until now. You hadn't really ever had a reason to tell him no, and how could you when he would ask with those big puppy dog eyes staring up at you? How could you have possibly known that would make him such a spoiled little brat? Never in a million years would you have thought that you would need to punish him for something since he had never seemed to break any of the rules you had set. Once you got in the car to drive home, however, you realized that he was a lot brattier than you had ever known.

     Almost as soon as you had gotten in the car he was begging for your touch again, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers as he told you all the things he wanted you to do to him. After he still wasn't able to get a reaction out of you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally.

     "Fine then! If you're not gonna touch me I'll just do it myself!" You weren't able to fully comprehend his words before hearing the zipper of his pants as he whipped his pretty little dick out, giving an over dramatic moan as the cold air hit his heated skin. As fate would have it the light ahead of you was red, giving you the opportunity to turn to your boyfriend and rip his hand away from himself. Before another complaint could leave his mouth you gripped his chin with your other hand, digging your nails in his cheeks and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

     "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He gulped at the anger in your eyes. "You think just because you're cute I'll give you whatever you want? Huh? You think that this-" you growled while shaking his hand that had previously been on his cock, "is the proper way to get my attention?!" 

     "I- I'm sorry mas-"

     "No! You wanted my attention, didn't you? Well now, you're gonna get it! But trust me sweetheart, this is not going to go how you think it will. Now fix yourself, I don't wanna see that thing until we get home, got it?" 

     "Y-yes master." He stuttered, squeezing his thighs together in the hopes you wouldn't notice how his dick twitched when you raised your voice.

—

     Myungjun's breath hitched in his throat when he heard the front door slam closed as you entered the house. He had been eagerly awaiting this moment, his mind creating many fantasies for him to feed into his desire the rest of the car ride home. You had given him the simple command of "Bedroom, now." and he did not need to be told twice. He was obediently sitting on the mattress once you got there, fully nude with white knuckles from how hard he was gripping his thighs. 

     "Alright sweetheart," you said, calmly walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, "we're gonna start off a little easy for you." He tilted his head as you pat your thighs, looking over at him expectantly. It finally clicked and he let out an over dramatic whine.

     "But master-" The harsh glare you sent his way was enough to shut him up, making him gulp before slowly draping himself over your thighs. You gave a small smile at the action, though it didn't reach your eyes.

     "Good boy! Now I want you to count loud and clear for every spank, alright?" He hastily nodded his head, his fingers digging into the fabric of the rug beneath him and bracing for impact. You tutted at him with disappointment, making him quickly mutter a quiet 'Yes master' to give you verbal confirmation that he understood. 

     The few quiet seconds that passed after that were almost unbearable. All Myungjun's senses were on edge, waiting for the moment he would feel the pleasant burn on his skin from where you'd hit him. When you finally landed the first blow of many, your boyfriend's jaw dropped open with a small gasp. It took him a few seconds but he finally stuttered out "O-one!" You made sure the second blow was even harder than the first, making his body lurch forward from the impact. "Two!"

     It continued like this for the next 12 spanks. You alternated between cheeks, sometimes even giving a harsh slap right where his thighs met his ass. He was panting and shaking on your legs and you were sure if you had looked there would be unshed tears glistening in his eyes. A part of you was worried you were being a little too rough with him but after landing the final hit you could feel a small spurt of pre-cum staining the dress pants you had worn. 

     "F-fifteen!" The number sounded pitiful as it fell from his lips, high-pitched and breathy as he started squirming around to subtly grind his cock into the side of your thigh. That dream was short lived, however, as you grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him up to sit next to you on the mattress. Your glare had him shivering as he struggled to keep eye contact with you. If you had noticed his pathetic attempt to get off, you didn't say anything. You simply pushed him back a little bit by his hair as you stood from the bed.

     "Back against the headboard." Myungjun didn't dare question your authority, immediately pushing back on his feet until he could feel the cool surface of the headboard against his back. While he was doing that, you walked over to the closet, digging around for a little bit before returning with your box of toys. You let him watch you with curious eyes as you pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a black, satin ribbon. Pushing him slightly down by his shoulders so his back was somewhat rested against the pillows, you clicked the cuffs in place around his wrist and secured them to the headboard. He tugged at them for a bit to test the sturdiness before you grabbed his jaw and made him face you so you could tie the ribbon carefully around his eyes. He whined at that one, pouting his lips as his vision went black.

     "Noooo! Master please, I wanna see your beautiful body as you destroy me!" He gasped as you harshly smacked his thigh.

     "You can do that after you've learned how to be a good boy. Only good boys get rewarded baby, you know this." His pout only deepened as he muttered about how unfair all this was. At the sound of you rustling through what he assumed to your toys his mouth snapped shut. There were a few moments of silence until he suddenly felt a cool object being tied against the head of his red and leaking cock. Once you seemed you had it secure, you grabbed the remote and twirled it between your fingers before letting the toy buzz to life. 

     Your boyfriend's body jolted as he felt the vibrator against the sensitive head of his dick, a waterfall of whimpers falling from his lips as he struggled to get used to the sudden pleasure. After a few minutes of you toying with the settings, his hips jutted up off the bed as he moaned helplessly. Sensing that he was close to his release, you suddenly turned off the toy. Myungjun whined in confusion as he thrusted his hips off the bed in search of friction.

     "No! Wha- master! I was so close!" He cried. You rolled your eyes as a sadistic smirk made its way to your lips.

     "Awwww, you didn't really think I'd let you cum so soon, did you? I told you baby," you said as you strutted to his side, letting your hands trace patterns around his chest before lightly resting around his throat, "only good boys get rewards." You gave a light squeeze as you finished your sentence, making him gasp and his head spin. He kept whining out complaints until you had decided he had waited long enough and started up the vibrator again. A disappointed whine left him again minutes later when you did the same exact thing again. You did it a couple more times until you could see the tears slipping past the blindfold as he begged for permission to cum.

     "Hmmmm, I don't know baby. Have you learned your lesson yet?" You hummed while teasingly running your nails up and down his chest.

     "Oh please master! I-I've been such a good- A-AH- good b-boy for you!  Please master, h-have mercy!" He whined, sobs tearing from his throat as his hips continuously bounced off the bed, desperate for a friction it wasn't going to get. You hummed, pretending to think about it before shutting off the toy again. He sobbed loudly, words indecipherable as he tried to beg for his release. You quickly untied the vibrator from his tip making him practically sob under your gaze. His cries catch in his throat as he feels the familiar head of your cock rub against his hole.

     "Now baby," you growled in his ear as you felt his hot breath coming out in short pants against your neck, "do you think you deserve to be stretched out before I fuck you open?" His lips trembled as you dug your nose into his skin, letting your lips softly follow it's trail.

     "N-no master…"

     "And why is that, huh?" He shivered as you grinded against him, letting him feel the lube you had coated it in while he was distracted by the vibrator.

     "B-because- because I decided t-to be an impatient l-little bitch and touch myself after you told me to wait until we got h-home." He whined, though you noticed how his dick twitched when he called himself a little bitch. 

     "Good boy! For giving your master such a good answer I'll take this off for you since I know you're just dying to watch me fuck you open, aren't you?" He vigorously nodded his head as he felt your tug lightly at the blindfold around his head.

     "Yes yes yes! W-wanna watch you destroy me, w-watch you punish me for being such a bad boy master!" You bit your lip with a growl, wasting no more time before ripping off the black satin cloth and thrusting the entirety of your length into him.

     Myungjun's back arched as his head snapped back into the pillows he was laying on. No noise escaped him as his jaw fell open, but after a few seconds a high pitched moan broke through the silence. His nails were digging into his palms as you started to move your hips, quickly picking up speed as the sound of slapping skin filled the room. Tears and drool were dripping down his face while his toes curled at the pleasure ripping through his body. He was trying his best to look up at you but every hit to his prostate (which you managed to find rather quickly) left his eyes rolling back in his skull so he could only watch the ceiling moving back and forth above him as every rough thrust made his body move with the impact. His task only proved harder after you lifted one of his legs over your shoulder, making you hit even deeper inside of him. 

     Finally, he managed to force his eyes to look at you. The sight of your gaze on him was enough to make him come undone, but he knew better than to do so without your permission. Your eyes were almost black with lust, a sadistic glint in them only proved to make the smirk you sported that much more intimidating. Your cheeks were slightly flushed from the energy you were exerting to make sure he would get to cum as soon as possible while a few loose hairs clung to your forehead from sweat. A shiver shot down his spine when he noticed your smirk growing wider as your gaze traveled lower, stopping at his lower stomach. The knot in his stomach felt like it was one second away from snapping as he looked down to notice the bulge of your cock against his lower stomach. All he could do was moan and cry as he blabbered about wanting to cum.

     "Oh master! P-ple- AH- please! Please please please please please! C-cum- I-I- oh god yes- wanna- I- oh please!!" You smirked down at his fucked out form, his eyes returning to rolling back in his head as his thighs shook around you. You hummed with a small smile while kissing up his thigh that was right by your head.

     "Go ahead baby, show your master how good they make you feel." The soft and caring tone of your voice strongly contrasted the filthy things you were doing to his body but it only proved to make him hornier as his entire body shuddered and he finally came. White ropes of his release covered his stomach, a little bit even ending up on his neck as you slowed the pace of your hips to ride him through it. You honestly considered making him go again but decided against it as you saw the tired expression that covered his face. 

     Slowly and carefully you set his leg down on the bed and pulled out of him, watching as he bit his lip with one last whimper. Releasing his wrists from the handcuffs you had put him in, you rubbed a cream over the red marks he had created from tugging at the material so they wouldn't bee too sore in the morning, making sure to rub it over his red bottom as well. You peppered kisses all over his face before muttering that you'd be right back and hurrying to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet washcloth to clean him up with. Once you had also gotten him a small snack and some water from your mini fridge you cleaned him off and laid down next to him, holding him close to your body and leaving light kisses over his skin.

     "How're you feeling baby? I know I went a little rougher than you're used to from me." You said with a chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his face. A lazy smile lit up his face as he snuggled closer to you.

     "Good. Sooo good." He mumbled against your neck, making you giggle and press a kiss to the top of his head. You felt his breathing start to level out against your neck as he began to drift to sleep. Staring at him like a lovesick fool, you kissed him one last time before following him to dreamland.

[skylarmoon71]

Nick Jakoby x Reader Oneshot- (Bright)

“Oink, oink over here piggy!” 

The group of men standing in the doorway made you grimace. Damn they pissed you off. Nick walked pass them with his head lowered, trying his best to ignore the rude remarks. You’d just clocked in, and this had become a regular. Their tauntings. You really wanted to body slam all four of them. But you restrained yourself. “Don’t bother with them Nick, their dick heads. “ It was no secret that they hated the male Orc. Nick was by far the sweetest man on the force, and he wasn’t even a man. Which really said something for the unit. 

“I’m used to it, it’s fine.” you frowned. He shouldn’t have to get used to it. He was just as hardworking and diligent as any other cop. You nudged his shoulder with a smile as you walked with him. “Cheer up, in a couple of hours we have that awful dinner to attend. You have worse things ahead." Nick shook his head with a shy smile. “Is that supposed to make me feel better.” 

“Not really.” with a small giggle, you met your partner. Nick headed over to Ward, and your eyes wandered, just admiring him. You had no idea why people gave him such a hard time. It’s true that Orcs sided with the enemy in the past, but that was thousands of years ago. The world had changed so much since then, apparently not in the ways you hoped. 

Nick was so misunderstood and underappreciated. He had so much to offer if he was just given a chance. Not to mention he was a total sweetheart. Pretty handsome too. The final thought erupts a blush to your cheek, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“What’s got you all red in the face?” Jacob, your partner raises an eyebrow, and your face gets darker. “Nothing let’s get going.” he doesn’t quite believe you, and you try to steal one last look at Nick before you have to get going, but Jacob catches the action, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Shit I knew it!!” His yell catches the attention of everyone in a five mile radius and as the officers stare, you feel Nick’s stare follow. You cower, smacking Jacob who just waves everyone off. When their gazes have diverted, you glare at the man before you. He raises his hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to cause a scene. Not everyday you discover your partner has a crush. Damn Victoria owes me twenty bucks!” 

“Y-You betted on my love life with your wife!!” 

“Umm, hell yeah I did. Why are you even surprised?” he was right, you shouldn’t have been. You just roll your eyes, and soon the both of you are headed to the squad car. Jacob is still wearing that smug grin as you jump into the vehicle. “So when are you gonna ask him out?” 

“I-I’m not!” 

“You’re kidding, you have to (Y/N)!” Jacob has always been majorly supportive, but you’re still a little anxious. Your head lowers. “Y-You don’t think it’s weird that I..I mean I don’t  care if anyone says anything but I just..I..” The way you're struggling with your words, it’s not hard for Jacob to understand. “Listen, I’d never judge you for something like that. We’re partners (Y/N), practically family now. And honestly Nick is awesome, dude brings me scones every Tuesday cause he passes at my favorite shop on his way to work. He’s a hero in my book.” He lets out a few fake sobs to get his point across and you just groan at his childishness.

“Seriously though, Nick’s a really good guy. Everyone treats him like shit, yet he comes back and tells them to be safe. If it were me, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it that well. He could easily quit, probably just become the monster everyone keeps accusing him of being. But he wakes up and he does the job, all because he loves it, he generally cares about protecting people who don’t give a shit about him. It’s inspiring to watch. There aren’t many people like left in this world (Y/N), if you find someone like that, you should do what you can to hold onto them.” His finger ran over his wedding band, a smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I did.” His smile makes your face brighten, and you nod. 

“I’ll do my best. “ 

So maybe your partner wasn’t a complete idiot. 

That afternoon when you get home, you’re on a mission. Jacob’s advice is ringing in your head. He’s right. So you’ve decided this annual police will be your best yet. You were gonna go all out. You rarely ever get dressed up, too accustomed to dark suit pants and uncomfortable belts. You wanted something to catch Nick’s attention, then maybe it would give you the confidence to finally own up to your feelings and ask the guy out. You jump into the shower. 

“Time to knock them dead. “ 

~Three hours later~

“Quit fidgeting, you look fine.” Ward smacks Nick’s hands away from the tie. He’s been messing with it for the last ten minutes, mostly out of nervousness. This is his first time he’s worn a tux. He feels a bit ridiculous, but with Ward’s assurance, he can only hope he’s pulling it off. They stand at a table making small talk, mostly Ward. 

Nick offers a word here and there. By the looks he keeps getting, he can tell that his opinion isn’t really wanted by the people there. So he busies himself with watching the other people mingling around him. Everyone looks relaxed, sipping wine, helpling themselves to food. He’s never been a fan of this. Every year they hold these little banquets to treat the new recruits and commend exemplary performances throughout the unit. It’s a fun event for the most part. But his fellow coworkers never rest with their harsh opinions. It isn’t even verbal, just by the looks he knows. 

The sound of a few whistles catches his attention. There’s a small commotion at the doorway. He vaguely makes out the edge of purple, and that’s when he notices the man that walks in. But that isn’t what captures his eyes, it’s the woman he’s escorting on his arm. 

Golden orbs widen, and his ears twitch a bit too quickly. He wants to control it, but it’s hard, because the smile that lands in his direction knocks the wind right out of him. “Wow, your girlfriend cleans up nice.” Ward whispers. 

“S-She’s not my girlfriend.” he grumbles back. Now that you’re clear in his view, he can fully admire your dress. It’s a velvet luxe maxi dress. The color is a beautiful lavender. Thin straps at the shoulder, low cut displaying just enough cleavage. And a slit that stops mid thigh, with matching heels to complete the whole look. Your hair is loose, and a very light amount of makeup, highlighting your features. Nick thought you were gorgeous before, but somehow you’ve outdone yourself. He can’t look away, and he really should before you take notice.You settle at a table not too far from him, pulling the focus of a few males present there. With polite smiles and little words, Nick feels a bit envious. 

“Now’s your chance hotshot. Ask her out before one of those hyenas beat you to it.” Nick wants to convince Ward that it’s useless, there’s no way you’d go for someone like him. You’re completely different in every sense of the word. He doesn’t have a chance. As he opens his mouth he’s about to lay out his case, but a sweet lavender scent fills his nostrils, and he wants to question the origin, just then he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns, and the heavenly aroma hits him tenfold. Somehow you’ve walked over without him realizing. He’s supposed to be more aware, he’s a cop after all. Your glossed lips turn into a smile as you bat your eyes. 

“Nick..do you wanna maybe dance?” 

The slow sound filling the room, doubled with the couples now filling up the floor catches his eyes. He’s tongue tied, because you can’t really be asking him. Out of all the guys there, why him? Yes, the both of you have been friends for months now, but he’s sort of assumed your kindness was due to pity more than anything else. 

You're still watching him hopefully, and Ward gives an encouraging push. He stumbles, grabbing your shoulders lightly. When he’s steadied himself, he pulls back. “He’d love to.” Ward says. Nick doesn’t get a chance to put in a word for himself, because you smile, taking his hand and pulling him to the center of the dance floor. Nick is staggering behind, trying not to knock into anyone. When you get to your desired area, you turn back to him. Nick is stiff, the both of you are just standing there, a number of eyes on you. “I-I should probably just go, everyone is staring and I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable.” His eyes lift, and the way you look at him, it makes his heart hammer. What has he done to deserve your kindness, he has no idea. 

Deciding that you need to be the one to make a move, you take his hands and place them around your waist as you step closer. You can feel the slight tremble in his palms that are pressed to your body now. It’s so adorable. He’s still stiff as a board, but you know he’s trying. He’s probably so touch starved. It hurts to just think about it. Your hands are resting on his chest lightly, and you sigh, swaying with the music. Nick swallows, he’s a bit taller than you, and he’s trying his best not to look down directly at you. With you so close it’s hard for him not to pass out at how amazing you smell. Your hands slide up, going around his neck. His eyes finally meet yours, and the meaning in your eyes, it triggers something in him. “Nick..” you’re whispering, and it breaks his train of thought. “Yeah.” you lick your lips, and he wishes he could just kiss those plump lips. They are begging to be touched.  

“Do you possibly want to-” a hand pulling you from the Orc in your arms makes you jerk. Nick looks just as surprised. The officer standing between the both of you, suddenly it makes sense, and you're pissed. “Run along pig face, she’s tired of you.” Pollard rests a hand on your waist, pulling you into his side, and you shove him back. “You’re the one who’s interrupting, what the hell we were dancing!!” you're enraged. Not only has he messed up your plan to finally ask Nick out, but he’s also insulted him. Nick can see the displeasure on your face, and he’s about to suggest that maybe you leave. The last thing he wants is for you to get caught in the middle of this. He could take Pollard’s insults any day. But he doesn’t want any negative attention drawn to you. 

“Come on you don’t have to give anymore charity, we all know why you do this. You feel bad for little piggy here. Don’t waste your evening on him, how about you come with me. Have some real fun.” It’s almost laughable that he thinks you’ll drop everything and just run off with him. Nick now looks less sure of himself, a bit defeated. It’s then you realize that he must have assumed the same. You’re being nice out of some foolish obligation. You open your mouth to assure him, but stop. This time, words may not be enough. It’s time to take action. So with two swift strides you grab Nick by the lapels of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. Pollard gapes, and Nick is tense and wide eyed. 

“I’m dreaming…” He has to be. You couldn’t be..kissing him. Your eyes are closed, and you still have a firm hold on his clothing. A few more seconds pass and you pull back slowly. Your eyes move from Nick’s soft lips, to his topaz eyes. The bewildered expression is highly anticipated. 

“If you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” you take Nick’s hand, leaving a stunned Pollard, and a few surprised officers. You don’t even look back, you do however pass Jacob on your way out of the building. He’s grinning probably wider than you. When the door snaps shut behind you and you're free of the intrusive stares, you look at Nick. He’s still in a mid state of shock. “I’m sorry..” you mutter. 

Now that the events play back, you’re bashful. You didn’t even get to ask him out. Nick collects himself slowly, shaking his head. “N-No it’s fine.” An awkward silence follows. You want to say something to cut the tension, but Nick interrupts. “I should take you home.” He doesn't look at you when he says that, and now you're a bit scared that you’ve crossed a line and misread all the signs. Self conscious and mortified, you just nod. Nick’s car is parked close, as he opens the door, you jump inside. He does the same, pulling off. 

The ride is anything but pleasant. It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Nick is staring ahead, and the look he wears is unreadable. 

“I ruined everything.” You should have never done that, especially since you weren’t even sure of any feelings. He must be completely disgusted with you. You're thankful that the ride isn’t long, because in a few minutes he pulls up. You don’t make any kind of eye contact, just whisper a thanks, opening the door and stepping out. 

You want to cry, how did the night turn so horrible that quickly. As you close the vehicle door, you all but sprint to your house, taking out your keys and opening your front door. You don’t even bid him goodbye, you just focus on getting inside. You do, stepping in and leaning back as you shut the door. “Idiot!” you scold yourself. “I’m an idiot..” you bite your lip. How would you ever face him again. 

The knock at your door makes you jump, and you turn, opening the door hesitantly. You peek outside, a bit surprised. “N-Nick..” He’s staring at you, maybe wanting answers for all that happened. You step back, letting him inside. He’s the one that closes the door this time. 

“Why did you kiss me?” Blunt, to the point. From the look, you know he’s just as conflicted by all of this as you. Now might be your last chance. You’ve already kissed him, what was the harm in telling him the truth. It might help you both.

“Because I..It’s what I’ve wanted to do for months now. “ you confess. His forehead creases in astonishment. “Nick I’ve..I’ve had it bad for you for so long and it makes my blood boil every time I hear the way they talk to you! You’re so caring and selfless and goddamn hot to me and I wish everyone could see how amazing you are if they’d just give you an opportunity.” you’re rambling, but you don’t care. “That jackass Pollard ruined everything I had this whole night planned out, I was gonna wow you with this dress and then finally ask you out but then he came with his false macho bullshit and it just pissed me off and that’s why I grabbed you like that to show him that this isn’t some charity I actually am crazy about you and I..” you heave, for a minute there you forgot you should breathe. “I’m so crazy about you Nick.” 

He’s still just standing there, and now you’ve given him a chance to speak. From his expression, he doesn’t know what to say. You were so out of his league. 

“I don’t understand why you would..why..” that self conscious  look, you’ve seen it many times. 

“Nick, I want you.” he stops, eyes opening a bit wider now. “I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of.  “ you take a step forward, and he doesn’t move a muscle. “Truthfully, when I saw you earlier in this tux, I almost passed out. “ your hands reach out, going back to where they had been before Pollard stepped in. Resting right on his broad shoulders. Another thing about him that made you swoon was his build. He was nicely muscular. It just messed you up. He needs a moment to gather his breath. “Nick do you..want me?” 

“Of course!” his shout, as unexpected as it is, it makes you smile. He looks away at how desperate it sounded. “That’s good..” you don’t clarify, just lean in, and this time when your lips meet, he still doesn’t really prepare. It’s so tender, almost tentative. When he finally convinces his mind that it’s real, his hands wrap around your body, pulling you in. You sigh, and Nick responds, returning the kiss. Your head is in the clouds, You feel like you’re dreaming, if that’s the case you want to stay forever. You open your mouth, urging him to do the same, he does, taking control. 

You moan when he pushes you up against the door, now kissing you hungrily. One of his hands drift down to your bare thigh, and another needy sound releases. You can’t stop it and you don’t want to. His free hand presses to the door, and your hands grip at the clothes on his back. You’re trying to pull him forward, and he complies, pressing into you. It feels so great, his firm body trapping you there. There’s a low growl that comes from Nick, and somehow you’re even more turned on. Your hands have ventured back to the front of his tux, unbuttoning it quickly. It falls open and your fingers slip under the jacket, reveling in the taunt muscles. 

Gosh does he feel amazing. Nick feels you start to pull at the shirt, he forces himself to part. When you’ve separated, you’re both flushed and panting. Nick still believes maybe he’s at home sleeping somehow. The new scent that fills the air nearly makes his knees buckle. Your lust is so prominent, he can almost taste it. Your chest is still heaving, but you're slowly coming down from your high, so is Nick. It’s then you realize what was about to happen if not for Nick’s pause. You feel a bit embarrassed now. You hug yourself, blushing a deep red. 

“S-Sorry, guess I kind of got a bit crazy..” Nick smiles. “You don’t have to apologize.” He’d be stupid to make you feel bad about such a thing. He was just as equally responsible. Fact is, it took everything in him to stop himself. As much as he wants this to progress, he also wants more than just a heated night with you. He wants so much more. 

“(Y/N), I’d..really like to take you out sometime..” he mumbles it, still fairly insecure about it all. The way your eyes light up though, his fears are all gone. You don’t respond, and he doesn’t need one because you jump into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek, grinning like a child on Christmas.

“You don’t even have to ask, it’s a yes.” you  whisper in his ear. He holds you close, breathing in your scent. He wants to lock that away forever. He wants this to last forever. For now though, just being with you now, it’s enough.

[cherrywoes]

liar's dice. (gojo x f!reader)

title: liar's dice.

pairing: gojo x f!reader

rating: nsfw (18+)

a/n: nie! i did my best! i hope you like it! <3 i struggled a bit but i think it turned out okay. :) @sixeyesgojo

GOJO NEVER STAYED—not like he was now, indulgently tracing tiny little circles over your abdomen. Circles that turned into letters that turned into numbers that turned into words that turned into phrases; ones you couldn’t read, because he was perceptive, and ones you could only guess at the meaning of. He was tender, soft, casual where he normally wasn’t; bruises littered your throat and body as proof, rough imprints of his fingers into your soft skin, livid and visible, deep from the force. Not even your legs had escaped his destruction, teeth marks and the crescent indents of fingernails in your calves, your knees carpet burned to hell, and your scalp aching pleasantly from where he had wrapped those long fingers in the hair at the base of your neck and pulled, the agony oh so pleasant. He never paused to give you a tender embrace, like he was now, nor did he ever stop to lie with you and bask in the afterglow that you usually experienced alone. You didn’t think he knew the gentleness he was showing you, not with the way your jaw still ached and your core throbbed to the point of unpleasantness.

“What’s changed?” you asked him quietly, voice hoarse and cracking from overuse. You didn’t dare turn your head to look at him, wary to catch those gorgeous blue eyes filled with emotion—or anything at all that wasn’t pure lust. You weren’t sure if you could handle that. “Why are you staying?”

His fingers followed a sinuous path over your hip bone. “Is it bad of me to want to stay with you, [Name]?”

Not [Name]-chan, [Name]-san, or even [Surname]—just… [Name]. It sounded so strange, so wonderfully odd coming out of his mouth without an honorific. You twisted in his grip, sitting up, the sheet you’d thrown over yourself falling to your hips. Gojo’s fingers fell to your thigh, questing, and squeezed your knee in inquiry; once, twice, thrice, a queue he hadn’t used since you’d first started hooking up with him. A queue to feel you out, gauge your emotions when you couldn’t speak.

Cautiously, you reached down and covered his hand with yours, lips twisting, working out the right way to tell him that you didn’t trust this.

“Yes.” Your [color] eyes, red and swollen from tears of ecstasy and overstimulation, darted to him, something fierce and angry within. “Yes, it is bad—because you never stay, Gojo. You always leave and it’s cruel of you to stay, knowing that you’ll leave anyway for someone else—that I can never be good enough for you, not completely, because you go to others! And yes, I know it’s shitty of me to back out on an agreement I proposed, but I—if you do this, I can’t deal with it anymore. I just can’t. Lingering, staying, making me think you might have a smidge of something in that heart of yours for me, and just crushing me when I realize you never felt anything at all. That I’m a convenience when you want to get your dick wet.”

Tears, hot and stinging, welled up in your eyes unbidden and you brushed them away with a harsh stroke of your hand. Your mouth quivered and a knot formed in your throat; your lungs constricted; your chest felt heavy. You wanted to take an inhale, but you knew it would only produce a choked up sob, so you smothered it as far down as it would go, pressing your lips together so hard between your teeth that you knew they had to be bleeding.

“Oh.”

You scoffed, feeling a bead of blood dribble down your chin when your lips parted. “‘Oh’ is right.”

Unable to bear his touch, the firm hand on your knee, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed and ripped the sheet off of your body. You trembled, but you didn’t fall, the muscles in your legs reliable after a moment’s rest. Not waiting to see if he reached out to you, you slung on a vintage silk robe you’d picked up at an estate sale, tying it into a hasty knot around your waist. You didn’t want him seeing you naked again, so vulnerable after that confession, even though he had seen you nude beneath him just half an hour ago, writhing in the throes of your orgasm. You felt that if he said the words to break your heart, you might just shatter to his feet.

Your balcony had a perfect view of the city, and you used it to your advantage, picking out the silhouettes of those still awake even in the early hours, walking past the windows, either on the phone or cleaning. You tried and failed to swallow the knot in your throat as sheets rustled behind you and Gojo stepped behind you, never touching but hovering, his very aura an oppressive presence crawling over your skin. You were tempted to press yourself against the tempered glass to get away from it.

“I can’t lose you, [Name].” His fingers touched the back of your elbow gently, testing. When you didn’t pull away like he expected, he carefully slid his palms up to your shoulders, following the subtle curve of your collarbone. You closed your eyes, squeezed them tight, as his fingers moved over your pulse and rested there. “I realized it a few days ago, because in every girl I slept with, I looked for you in them. It also probably didn’t help I said your name instead of theirs, but… Besides the point! I’m not leaving you, [Name]. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Right.” You gently wormed out of his grip and stepped around him. The truth of the matter was, you didn’t believe him—not one bit. Not with how he was. To be so flippant, so ridiculous about something so serious to you… It was like him. But you didn’t appreciate it. You padded towards the kitchen, reaching for the doorknob to escape the confined space you both stood in. You twisted, hearing the click of the lock. “Whatever you say, Gojo—”

You were ripped away from the doorknob so quickly you had whiplash. Your mind spun as you were pressed against a wall opposite your bed, quite harshly, the back of your neck and shoulderblades digging into hardened plaster. Gojo placed a hand beside your head, the other palm pressed flat against your stomach, pinning you to the wall with nowhere to go. You knew what he was capable of; you had even witnessed in on one occasion when you were stupid enough to get too close to a curse.

“I’m not lying.” His breath crested over your face and throat, a warm wave as he exhaled. “[Name]... You have to believe me.”

“I believe you.” Your eyes narrowed dangerously. You were tempted to punch him, kick him, something to get him to stop pinning you down like this. “The fact is I don’t trust you, Gojo. You’ve given me no proof—”

A kiss, harsh and splitting your lips more than they had been, blood smearing across your mouth, silenced the growing argument brewing in your lungs. You felt him swipe his tongue over the laceration when he tasted blood, pulling his head back and regarding you with pleading eyes.

“You’ve never given me a chance to try,” he whispered, reaching over and wiping a bead of blood from your bottom lip. You allowed him to do so, resisting the urge to bite down and sink your teeth into his skin for causing you so much heartache. He’d probably enjoy it, knowing him as you did. “Let me try.”

He was unraveling your robe tie before you could say no, pushing the silk off of your shoulders. It slipped down your arms and body and puddled at your feet, leaving you feeling raw, exposed, and vulnerable in a way you had never felt before. He had cut a lamp on somehow, exposing the flaws of your body and skin to him even more prominently, even the wicked bruises and bites he had left on you—you immediately went to sweep the robe back into your arms, but he stopped you, knocking your arm away.

“Stop fighting it,” Gojo advised, slowly settling down to his knees. You watched the muscles in his legs and abdomen twitch and quiver, balancing his weight out, and the peculiar way he almost seemed reverent as he knelt at your feet, palm sliding up from your belly to grip your chin, forcing you to look down at him like an indolent god. “Let. Me. Try.”

The words shriveled up and died in your throat as he lifted your leg over his shoulder, pushing the rest of your weight against the wall, and pressed his lips to your thigh, feeling out the pulse there with his mouth. You flushed fresh with heat, new coils winding around in your abdomen despite your anger, and watched as he trailed his lips up your leg towards the apex of your thighs, never breaking eye contact with you.

He waited for you to stop him, breath cresting over your swollen lips, but you never did.

Your hands came down into his hair, already mused and messy, as his tongue slid across abused flesh. Slow and with no immediate goal in mind, he enclosed his mouth over the slick folds already growing wet for him, and gave gentle nips and licks to already sensitive and overused flesh. Each time he passed over a tiny bruise, your breath hitched, and he moved on, fingers pushing up and spreading you apart for his pleasure. You felt a well of embarrassment come up as he admired you in the light of the tiny lamp by your bed, but before you could manage a biting quip, he was pushing his tongue between his fingers and sucking your clit into his mouth. Tired and wrung out, you could barely produce more than a breathy moan, but for Gojo, that was perfect—he moved his fingers in perfect strokes to accommodate the harsh attention he gave your clit, feeling the muscles inside your pussy clench around air as you grew closer and closer to your peak. He could pick up on the little halts in your breath, the way you tensed and froze up, hips pushing against his face, and before you could release on his tongue, he parted from you, a string of spit and your wetness webbing between you.

“Gojo,” you hissed, watching him rise from his knees and hook a hand behind your head, supporting your neck. He was always like this, teasing you; but something felt different, something had… changed. “Why’d you do that?”

“I wanted to.” He pressed a kiss to your mouth and you were helpless but to return it, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Legs up, [Name].”

[Name] again—no variation. You were a lost cause, complying easily, sliding your legs up and around his hips. His length pressed against you, hard and leaking already, as he pushed you further into the wall until he was flush against you, staring into your eyes as if he could drown in them.

“Gojo,” you whispered, partly a whine, tightening your legs and simultaneously grinding your pussy against the length of his shaft, hot white heat jumping up your belly at the sensation. “Please…”

He reached down and, in one smooth motion, entered you at your plea. You moaned at the stretch, fingers digging into his shoulders, and he was torturous as he set a slow pace, intentionally hitting every spot you could think of with each stroke; you could feel another orgasm building behind your navel, faster than you had ever had before, and you wanted to close your eyes, but found yourself mesmerised by his instead, the blue jewels riveted upon your face in fascinated observation.

You realized, belatedly, that you could actually see how he looked at you in the dark because the lights were on. And he could see you, in full form—and somehow, not even your orgasm could rip the intense focus between you apart, though you tried, your exhaustion catching up with you.

“You’re not leaving,” you affirmed, barely a whisper.

“I’m not,” he affirmed.

And so, from then on—he stayed. Just like he promised.

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 4

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

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Chapter 4

1997 (One year later)

The convention center had been beautiful under the blue Minnesota sky when Liam had arrived, and it was still beautiful now with its windows backed by heavy showers of falling snow that threw diffuse, moving light onto the walls inside the conference room. Beautiful and alarming.

Liam’s university was located in Florida. Florida was quite nice in January, and besides, there were theme parks. Didn’t people always like theme parks? But instead, the conference was being held in Minnesota, and this was the final day. In an hour, Liam and his colleagues, other faculty of the history department, were supposed to start the twenty-some-hour drive home.

“Could have been at Disney World,” Kurt remarked, startling Liam. Liam had been too busy watching the storm to realize Kurt had come up beside him.

“What on earth?” Liam asked, quite rightfully surprised, not by Kurt’s sudden unexpected presence, as he was used to that by now, but because Kurt was not a history professor, and therefore didn’t have a reason to be at the conference.

“Thought I’d drop in,” Kurt said. “See how things were going. Anyone interested in your research on Tollense?”

“Everyone. It’s very exciting.” Liam kept his voice low. “Am I talking to myself, or can everyone else see you?”

Kurt smiled at him. “I wouldn’t give you that kind of reputation. I’m visible.” Liam could see it was true, as Kurt’s good looks were attracting a few appreciative glances. “Are you ready to come home?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, we’re due to head out soon. Not that we’re really looking forward to it.”

“Well, your co-workers can head out whenever they like. I’m taking you home.”

“What?”

Kurt looked surprised by Liam’s surprise. “You’re from Florida. You have no idea what to do with snow. They’re pulling locals off the roads, Liam. I'm not letting you drive in this weather.”

“But you don’t even know how to dr— wait.” Liam felt a bit of a shiver crawl up his spine. “Oh, no. I’m not teleporting home.”

“I’ve been doing it for thousands of years. With humans. You know that. It’s perfectly safe.”

“No.”

Now a bit of hurt flashed over Kurt’s features, and like all his dark expressions, it was vaguely unsettling. “You don’t trust me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just don’t want to teleport.”

“Why on earth not?”

Liam hated to lie to Kurt. Partly, it was because Liam was not entirely sure that Kurt couldn’t somehow tell that he was lying. Kurt claimed that he couldn’t read minds, but he was a vampire who could teleport himself from Florida to Minnesota, and Liam would not have been at all surprised to find that Kurt was aware of the snowstorm confronting Liam without having checked the weather.

But it was also true that Kurt was Liam’s best friend and it seemed wrong to lie to him. Except Liam couldn’t tell him the truth about this, because that wasn’t going to help anyone. It was better if Kurt didn’t know that Liam was in love with him, that for over a year now, Liam had been obsessed with the memory of Kurt kissing him, slow and sweet, and that the last thing Liam needed now was for Kurt to pull him close and show off his impressive supernatural abilities in a rescue. Kurt had made it clear that he never allowed himself to fall in love with humans that he met, and Liam had to be protective of his heart, already cracked and in danger of breaking.

“Look, if you are so dead-set on it, you can use your mind-control powers to convince me,” Liam joked, and immediately realized that was worse than lying, because Kurt flinched.

“If I do that,” Kurt said, in what sounded like a carefully controlled voice, “I will lose you anyway.”

“Wh— you’re not going to lose me. I’ll get a hotel, then. Drive home later.”

“I don’t want you driving to a hotel!” Kurt looked exasperated. “Liam, you are the most adventurous person I know. Why not this?”

“Oh, I’m hardly—”

“Yes, you are. You’re like an explorer, always hungry for something new and unusual. You’re brave, and not terribly cautious, which is bad for your driving habits, but it’s perfectly safe when it comes to me, because I am never going to let anything happen to you.”

Kurt had stepped close, and Liam could tell how upset Kurt was because Kurt was losing his grip on the human appearance and mannerisms he tried to put on. Right now he looked sleek and strong and shadowy. He didn’t reach for Liam with his hands, but Liam could feel something surrounding him, like a faint cool mist. It felt oddly familiar, and Liam got the impression that the mist might actually always be there, a piece of Kurt holding onto him, and Liam had just never been consciously aware of it before.

And then everything suddenly snapped back into place: Kurt looked ordinary again, and Liam realized with a shock that a couple of his colleagues had approached them.

“What do you think?” asked one of them. “We’re talking about getting a hotel.”

“I have a ride home,” Liam said faintly. Everyone looked at him in surprise, including Kurt. Few of Liam’s fellow faculty had met Kurt, partly by Kurt’s design, because he wasn’t terribly social, and partly by Liam’s. Liam was aware that his very close friendship with a very handsome man was likely to give him a certain other reputation, one that was quite deserved (though sadly not much practiced), but not very wise in the current political climate.

Nothing for it now. “Chris Mullens, Doris Sullivan, this is my friend Kurt, ah, Smith. He was in town for something else and is heading back to Florida today. He offered me a ride.”

“Is it safe?” Doris asked, looking concerned.

“Kurt’s a very good driver. Got a— a car like a tank.”

Doris laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder, and to Liam’s surprise, Kurt seemed to bristle at that, almost literally, and the whole room seemed to go with him, the air around them feeling oddly sharp. Liam understood that Kurt was concerned that he’d change his mind and be convinced to travel with his colleagues, but it undoubtedly looked like something else from the outside— a sort of possessiveness.

“What a nice friend,” Chris said lightly, looking at Kurt in a way that Liam did not like at all, as if Kurt was not a person but a problem, not a good-looking man but a tempting trap. Liam’s personal belief was that men who were so vehemently opposed to homosexuality were probably terrified that they themselves might be vulnerable to such a “trap,” but it was better if that went unsaid.

Kurt rescued him, of course. “Yes, Liam and I have been friends for a while. I used to date one of his students, Martina.”

Chris’s face cleared a bit, losing some of its distaste. He had apparently not heard of bisexuality, or whatever word might describe Kurt. “Oh. Sure.”

“Ready to go?” Kurt asked Liam. He barely waited for an answer before steering Liam out of the room. They walked down an empty hallway where the storm winds were pushing hard enough to make the windows shift in their frames. Kurt spoke in a gentle voice. “Give it a few years. The world is becoming more tolerant again. Humans keep discovering their natures over and over.”

“This must all be very trite to you.”

“Not in the least.” Kurt’s eyes were sharp on him. “Do you think Chris is the one sending you those threatening letters?”

Liam scoffed. “He barely knows how to tie his shoes. Worse than even the typical history professor.”

Kurt looked unconvinced. “I’ll keep an eye on him all the same.” He held out a hand to Liam. “Let’s go home.”

Liam looked down at Kurt’s hand. A pale blue vein ran delicately along his wrist, and Liam wondered what flowed there, if anything. “What about my luggage?”

“I already picked it up from Dr. Sullivan’s car. It’s at your place.”

“You’re awfully confident that I’d say yes to this.”

Kurt sighed, exasperated. “I can’t believe you haven’t asked me sooner. I thought I’d be taking you to the Louvre every weekend. Or Rome. At least Antietam.”

Liam laughed. “I should have.”

Kurt smiled, looking at ease for the first time since he’d arrived. “You should.”

“Next weekend then.” Liam finally took Kurt’s hand, and their fingers fit together easily. As always, Kurt was slightly cool to the touch.

The convention center faded away into a sort of bland white light. Liam felt like he was floating, but still with his feet planted on the ground. He looked down and found his own office floor beneath his shoes.

“Stay still a moment,” Kurt warned. “People can get dizzy when they’re not used to it.” He dropped Liam’s grasp and put a steadying hand on his arm instead. And now was the moment Liam had dreaded: Kurt was so close, so strong, and so hauntingly strange.

“We must seem so very fragile to you,” Liam said.

“You are fragile.” There was a harsh coldness in Kurt’s voice.

“So how did you learn to do that? To teleport?”

Kurt shrugged. “Just always could.”

“Always?” Liam frowned. “I thought a vampire’s abilities were based on age.”

“They are.”

“But if you’ve been doing it as long as you can remember— since at least Tollense— doesn’t it follow then that your origins would have to be a great deal older than that?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes, considering.

“Or else,” Liam said, “maybe you’re not a vampire.”

“I drink blood.”

“A lot of creatures— uh, beings— are said to drink blood. I’m sorry, it must be so frustrating not to be able to remember.”

Kurt looked at him with a sort of gratitude, but then he turned away, toward the door. A second later, there was a knock, and Kurt finally let go of Liam’s arm.

It was one of Liam’s graduate students at the door, Jonah. “Hey,” he said. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Just have a couple of questions. I thought I heard you talking. Do you have company?”

Most of the students never met Kurt either, despite the fact that he was around quite a bit. Liam had learned by now that Kurt only appeared to those students he thought he might start a relationship with. Kurt had been alone since Martina had graduated, and Liam assumed it would only be a matter of time before he picked another student, someone to provide him with blood and share his bed. In between lovers, Kurt drank blood from animals, but he had told Liam that it was much better to have a human source. Kurt chose those people whom he thought would be open to the idea of a finite relationship with a vampire, those who wouldn’t be afraid of him but also wouldn’t want to stay with him indefinitely. Because Kurt never got attached.

“Let’s find out,” Liam said, and opened the door wider. His heart sank immediately when he saw that Jonah could see Kurt standing by the desk. Liam thought back for a moment to Kurt’s reaction when Doris put her hand on Liam’s arm. But Kurt wouldn’t get jealous, of course.

Liam definitely was.

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My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

[karlheisenberganyone]

This is my first post so I’m sorry if it’s bad lmao but yeaaa, this is kinda my first smut post ya knowww- but yea if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also I’m only doing this cause I’m bored asfffff 😫😫 also I might only post smut cause that’s what I’m best at cause I’m one hörny bish lmfao. So yea no one under 18 read I guess.

SMUT UNDER THIS PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Karl Heisenberg x female reader smut 18+

“Only for a bit”

Warning: cursing , kinkyyy, getting tied up, choking, pet calling (sweetheart, kitten) you also using names like sir. Just sexy stuff 😩

Enjoy <3

You were one of the 4 daughters of Lady Dimitrescu. You, Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra were treated very well, with rich delicious wine and goods. You were different from them though. All 4 of them were vampires, but you, you are an ordinary human being. Instead of eating human meat and drinking human blood, you ate normal animal meat and drank fine wine or water. It wasn’t difficult living with this family, you actually really enjoyed it. You had a wonderful mother and wonderful sisters. You felt loved and accepted in their family. You have lived with the Dimitrescu’s since a very younge age. You were brought into the family by Mother Miranda, who apparently found you in the abounded village a few miles away.

Today there was also a very important meeting being held up, and mother insisted you came over to accompany her, which you happily accepted. You were now In your bedroom, getting ready, but stopped when you heard a knock. “Sister, mother told me to bring you this dress she got made especially for you” you heard Bella say behind the door. “Oh ok, thank you very much and tell mother I’m very grateful” you said opening the door and taking the box with the dress in it. “I will, also mother wants you ready in 20 minutes” Bella said disappearing into a swarm of flies. “Ok!” You said loudly but not too loud.

You opened the box to see a gorgeous emerald green dress, with a bunch of gold swirls on the front with green gems. You slowly and carefully put the dress on and then go style your hair. You weren’t really used to these long dresses, and looking very elegant. After 20 minutes, you walked down the stairs in your heels, slowly to not fall over and make a scene of yourself. “You look absolutely stunning, as always dear” you heard your mother call out to you. “Thank you mother, and I’m very grateful for this dress. Bella told me it was specifically made for me” you tell your mother with a soft smile. “Only the best for my sweet beautiful daughter’s” your mother replied back with a soft smile. “So are you ready dear?” Your mother asked turning to look at you. “Yes mother” you said, taking your coat off the hanger and same with mother.

It was early autumn, and it was getting a tiny bit chilly. You walked down the paths, walking past many trees turning all different colours to show it was autumn. It truly was a gorgeous sight to see. After a few minutes of walking, you get to your destination. Mother opens the front door to find Donna sitting peacefully, greeting you and mother, while her doll running around laughing maniacally. Moreau was quietly lighting the candles to bring a bit of light inside. And Heisenberg no where to be seen yet. After all you were 30 minutes early. Mother sat down in her regular spot, talking to Donna about how she has been and catching up. You, you went to talk to Moreau about how well he has been. After 10 minutes of sitting down and talking to Moreau about video games he has, the door was harshly opened by a heavy boot, belonging to no other than Heisenberg. Everyone brings their attention towards the man himself, looking at his toothy white smile, greeting everyone by tilting his hat a bit and walking towards his seat. “So the dog decided to come over” mother started. “Oh shut up you bitch, I always come here for meetings, usually a bit late, but today is different!” Heisenberg said glaring at her through his glasses, and then looking at you, you looking back at him with an angry expression. “What are you frowning at kitten?” He asked you. “I do not like it when someone calls my mother in appropriate names” you said with a harsh and calm tone. “But your “dear mother” has called me a dog so I have full right to call her a bitch” he said putting his hands over he chair, and crossing his legs. “Not like she isn’t right” you mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear you, and your mother laughing quietly.

“You wanna fight or something kitten?” He asked you leaning forward now. “No, I just don’t like my mother being called harsh words that aren’t true” you said glaring at him. But when he was about to argue, Mother Miranda has arrived, leaving Heisenberg to close his mouth and groan loud enough for you to look at him.

After about an hour or so, the meeting ended. “Y/n, dear, please do me a favour and walk home. I must talk to Mother Miranda about something very important, and I won’t be coming home any time soon” mother said. You give her a reassuring smile and a nod, putting on your coat. You weren’t scared of walking home, because you knew how to fight. You could kill and fight with no problem, after all you do live with vampires. You walked out the door, and first thing you smell is the strong smell of cigar and whiskey, telling you Heisenberg was right there, and you were right. You turned your head towards him watching him smoking his cigar with a “really, here?” look. You shake your head a bit and start walking home, but before you could go you heard him talk. “I didn’t let you go anywhere kitten did I?” He asked you, you turning around to look at him. You took a deep breath and said “no.1 I ain’t no kitten so stop with that kitten shit, and 2nd of all you ain’t my parent so I can do what I want” you said with a little smile and started walking off home.

But Heisenberg didn’t give up easily. He started following you. You turn around rapidly. “What do you want?” You asked. Heisenberg just watched you. You could feel him eye you up and down even with those glasses on. You sighed out loud and started walking again, not caring that he was right behind you anymore. “You know what kitten, come with me to my factory, I wanna show u something” he said suddenly. You turned around once again and looked at him. “Why would I go to your factory?” He sighed “Come on pet, do ya have anything betta to do? No, so come over to mine. At least I’ll have some company”. The thought of you and Heisenberg being together alone made you kind of excited. You liked this man for a bit and loved teasing and annoying him, and he loved doing the same thing.

“Fine, but only for a bit” you said, letting him go in front and lead the way. It was a small walk and you got there real quick. “So here we are, my dear factory” he said showing off his mechanical creation’s. After giving you a walk through the factory, you asked why he invited you over. “Well I had a few questions” he answered, and now ur curiosity wanted to know what he had to ask. “You look curious kitten, would ya like to know?” He asked which you responded with a nod. “Well kitten, why did you chose to listen to me and come over?” Was his question first. “I dunno, I was bored so yea” you responded. “2nd question, what’s your type?” You looked at him with a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know that?” You asked. “You really wanna know kitten?” He asked lowering his voice a bit, which makes you shiver in pleasure. “I would like to know, but is it worth it?” You asked. “Well you will have to wait and see” he said. “Come over here” he said taking his glasses off and hat, and you obeying him and come near him. You could see the lust and need in his eyes making you feel warm and tingly.

“I would like to know why you want to know my type, Heisenberg” you said getting closer to him. “You really wanna know dear?” Seeing the lust in his eyes. “Yes I do” you said, a teasing look on your face. “Cause I wanna see if I’m of any of your standards dear. I wanna see if I can claim you as mine” he said coming closer to your ear, whispering in a deep raspy voice, which made you feel wetness come over. “And what would you do to me if you were of my standards and could claim me as yours?” You asked, teasingly wanting to know his answer. “Oh I’d do a lot to you kitten~” he purred into your ear. “Could you tell me what exactly?” You asked. “Right now, I’d like to rail you right here right now, make you scream my name until you can’t speak no more, listen to your moans like some music, fuck you so hard you start shaking, tie you up and make sure you can’t fuckin escape and make you endure the pleasure” he said making him squirm under him, making you feel like a hot mess, with only words. “Can I touch you?” He asked. You nod, immediately, begging for some friction. He slowly put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then taking your chin in one of his hands, and giving you a fast kiss, which soon turned into a heated make out session, his hands travelling around your body, while yours on his shoulders. Picking you up, he places you on the table behind him, throwing everything on the table onto the ground, placing you on top of it not stopping the kiss.

He soon started taking your dress off, unzipping it from the back, slowly to not make no damage. The kiss getting hotter and more heated, tasting the mix between cigar and whiskey, making your knees weak. After taking off the dress, he starts trailing kisses and bites down your jaw and kneck down to your exposed chest. He looked at you with a questionable look, and you gave him a quick nod to show him it was ok. After pleasuring you with your tits, and not getting a lot of moans out of you, it didn’t satisfy Heisenberg.

He laid you down onto your back and took of your panties. He gave you another look, and you nod. He slowly looks at you panties. “I haven’t even touched you that much, but look how fuckin wet you are kitten! And because of me and only for me” he said spreading your lips. He lowered himself biting at your thighs earning a few needy moans. It took him ages to finally give you a bit of pleasure by spreading your lips, and him finally using his mouth and tounge finally licking your clit, making your back arch and moan his name. That made Heisenberg go faster and add more pressure, which made you a moaning hot mess, for him and only him. “You taste fuckin delicious kitten” he said in pants. He then brought his 2 fingers, and slipped them inside you, curling them, making you feel more pleasure. When you felt your orgasm coming, Heisenberg stop what he was doing making you whine . “Come on, Heisenberg, I wanna cum so badly, please lemme cum” you moaned. “But kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He said taking his shirt off, boots and then undoing his belt.

When he undid his belt, and unzipped his pants, you could see his hard erection, making you wetter. “Enjoying the view princess?” He asked while taking his dick out. You just gave him a needy look and that gave him the hint to put it in. But before that you saw metal scraps flying past him taking your hands and pinning them at the top of your head on the table, making you unable to move your hands. This distracted you, so you didn’t notice Karl moving forward getting in place to rail you. He pushed in, which made you wince in pain letting him enter you bit by bit. You didn’t notice how big he was, feeling him fill you to the brim. “Is that all you can take kitten? Well fuck you still have a bit to go. You are so tight for me baby” he said moaning breathily.

“I cant take anymore Heisenberg, it’s too much” you moaned your legs trembling. “I’ll make you take all of it” he said pushing the rest of his length deep inside, making you arch your back in pleasure, making you gasp hard. He let you adjust to his size for a few minutes until he started moving his hips. At first he went with a slow passionate pace, but seeing you arch your back moaning for more, he picked up speed and strength, taking his dick nearly out, and slamming back in, making you gasp and moan. “Kitten, I want to hear you loud, don’t hide any of your sweet noises” he said breathlessly. You gave him a light nod before him slamming himself into you again, making you nearly scream his name out, him hitting every perfect spot.

He took one of your legs, onto his shoulder, making him go deeper into you, making you a moaning mess. He then took his glove off, by teeth and started rubbing your clit, building another orgasm inside you. “Already another orgasm pet? You have to beg for this one a lot harder sweetheart” he said rubbing your clit harder and slamming harder into you. “P-please sir please let me c-cum, I’ll do anything, please let me cum, please” you begged in between moans. “Tell me how good I make you feel” Heisenberg same slamming into you faster, watching your face curl into pleasure. “You make me feel so good sir, please haah your dick makes me feel so good sir, you are so good sir” you said with tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Good girl, so fuckin good for me and only me” slamming hard into you, your legs trembling nearing your orgasm. “Karl I’m about to-“ you slightly screamed, but Heisenberg stopped you by wrapping his hand around your neck, his other hand still rubbing your clit, making you cum hard on his dick, squeezing him, making him go harder, chasing his own orgasm moaning fuck and your so fuckin tight. And then he slammed one more time, spilling his seed deep inside you, filling you up. After that intense orgasm, Karl fell on top of you trying to support his weight with his hands on each side of your head. He let you go off the metal scraps, and you put one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. “Fuck, I should’ve done this sooner, don’t ya think?” He asked slightly laughing. “You should have, but better now than never” you said and with that he lowered down to give you a soft passionate kiss, making you melt right under him.

“You should go home kitten.. you can maybe stay a bit longer next time” he mumbled softly, not wanting to let you go, but also not wanting you to get in trouble and hurt. “I should” you said getting up, cleaning up and dressing up. He just put on his trousers and belt and watched you while lighting a cigar in his mouth. You were about to head out until Karl took your wrist and kissed you a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you again kitten” he said with a grin letting you go and opening the door for you. “Next time then. Bye bye” you said and he just waved. What a crazy day you told yourself walking home aching but happy.

[malfoymanortings]

fluorescent adolescent PART 2

summary: Fred Weasley has been drawing the eldest Malfoy daughter since his third year of Hogwarts. Elara Malfoy has fancied Fred Weasley since her fifth year at Hogwarts. It is during their final year, that the two of them do something about the mutual attraction.

pairing: Fred x OC older Malfoy sister

not related to flames and snow!! just a different perspective on Fred x older Malfoy sister.

let me know if you guys want a part three. also, this was my first time writing smut so hopefully it was good!

Elara Malfoy had a thing for Fred Weasley. 

She wasn’t quite sure when it had started, maybe in third year when he had stumbled into her path reeking of gunpowder; he had taken that opportunity to bow to the “Slytherin princess” and apologized profusely before being dragged off by his twin. Daphne Greengrass, her closest friend, had scoffed and told her the blood traitor was mocking her. 

But although Elara agreed, she secretly felt it wasn’t a joke to Fred. 

So yes, it was her narcissism that made Fred Weasley seem so appealing to her, as the thought of the boy calling her the Slytherin Princess (I am so sorry I knocked into you, goddess, it won’t happen again, I swear it!), made her liking of the boy grow. Of course, that was a secret she would have to take deep to her grave with her, unless she wanted to be disowned and removed from the Malfoy family. Elara had already worked hard to be part of that family, as her father was a rotten man with disgusting ideals and the worst view on punishments for a child. She didn’t spend her childhood taking beatings for both her and her brother to prove her worth just to throw it all away over a boy, a blood traitor nonetheless!

It was hard, though. Especially when she knew he stared at her all the time. Especially during the Yule Ball, when he had looked so delectable and had taken the gorgeous Angelina Johnson as his date, it was ever so hard for Elara to swallow her jealousy. Theodore Nott may have been handsome, but he was nothing next to Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley was stunning, and had the personality that was rare to find.

Fred Weasley was annoying and witty, hilarious and clever. George and him were the best pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, in her opinion. Of course, they normally targeted Slytherin’s as their intended victims, but usually it was well deserved, Elara had to admit. The man was so open yet closed off, as Elara had never dared speaking to him. 

Her brother Draco had a big mouth, and the last thing she needed was for him to gossip with father and tell him that Elara was even speaking civilly with a Weasley.

Yet when the opportunity in Potions class presented itself, Elara agreed upon meeting Fred Weasley at the astronomy tower around midnight. She dressed carefully that night, her best matching lace set, covered with fishnets and a black skirt, white blouse combo. She left her hair down, rings on her fingers, and applied a generous amount of her perfume to tie it all together. 

Elara headed for the astronomy tower exactly at midnight, taking care to make sure no one saw her leave. She kept her wand up the sleeve of her robes, at the ready just in case she ran into any sort of trouble. Like that idiot Umbridge, what a nasty woman. If it weren’t for her father being so close with the Ministry, she would spit at the woman. Instead, she had to play nice and act like the disgusting toad wasn’t vile.

Fred Weasley seemed impatient, pacing back and forth and glancing at the watch on his wrist.

 Elara stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring him openly for the first time. He was dashing, there was no doubt that the Weasley’s had impeccable genes. He seemed to have gotten a haircut over Christmas break, as it wasn’t as long as she preferred it. He kept flexing his fingers around his wand, and Elara wore a smile as she imagined those same skilled fingers wrapped around her throat.

“You didn’t think I would forget our engagement tonight, did you?” Elara came out from the shadow of the stairwell, smirking when Fred jumped.

“Well, it’s bloody past midnight, innit?” scoffed Fred, stilling his pacing and crossing his arms. 

Elara walked into the room slowly, glancing around the tower and keeping her tone light. “You just said around midnight. I don’t recall you specifying what exact time you wanted me here.”

“Next time I’ll be more clear, then.” Fred took on the same tone she had, and he smirked back at her when her eyes narrowed at him.

“Who said there’s a next time?” quipped Elara, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall farthest from Fred.

“Oh darling, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me for more.”

With that rather bold statement, Fred walked over to Elara who watched him appraisingly. 

“I rather doubt that, Weasley.”

Fred harshly placed his arms on either side of Elara’s body, his body heat warming her. “Beautiful, if you could just shut that pretty little mouth of yours, you wouldn’t piss me off so much.”

Elara raised an eyebrow, slightly embarrassed that she could already feel wetness between her legs. “Where’s the fun in that, Weasel?”

Fred slammed his lips against hers then, and Elara snaked her arms around his neck. His lips felt like fire against hers, spreading a heat through her body as quickly as a brushfire. His hands ghosted down her waist, sliding behind her hips to grip her bum. Elara bit down on Fred’s lip, harshly dragging his lower lip through her teeth, and Fred moaned audibly, slapping her bum with one hand while the other squeezed harshly.

He trailed his lips down her neck, nipping softly at the skin he had lusted over for so long, dusting kisses across her collarbones. His teeth grazed her skin, making her shiver and let out a moan against her will.

“That’s it darling, be loud for daddy.” encouraged Fred softly, his hands ghosting her inner thighs.

Elara’s breath caught in her throat, and she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. She would be damned if she called Fred Weasley daddy.

“Do you want me to touch you, love?” asked Fred, moving his hands up to unbutton her shirt. It fell to the ground, and Fred stared at her creamy breasts hidden from him with a lace bra that seemed to be teasing him.

“Yes.” Elara was breathless, almost embarrassed at how desperately she wanted him to touch her.

“Yes, what?” Fred kissed her jaw, his hands moving down to play with the hem of her skirt. 

She knew he wasn’t going to go further until she said it. “Yes, daddy.”

Fred grinned at her then, and her skirt came down along with her fishnets. He knelt down, pressing sloppy kisses to her thighs as he forced them open. Elara’s legs grew weak, something Fred took notice of.

“Lay down, love.” with a wave of his wand, Fred had conjured up a soft blanket for them to lay on. Elara sat down, before Fred had pushed her down to continue his onslaught against her cunt.

Once again forcing her thighs open, he snapped the waistband of her panties. “Darling, I appreciate the thought you put into these, but next time, come ready for me, alright?” 

He tugged off her panties without waiting for a response, and then ran his hand across her bare pussy. Elara gasped, bucking her hips up, and Fred laughed.

“You look delicious,” Fred ducked down, his breath fanning across her delicate skin. “Good enough to eat.”

He gave her a teasing lick, and again Elara’s hips bucked up on their own accord. Fred placed a large hand on her lower stomach, holding her in place. His other hand held her legs open as he licked and sucked her clit, his tongue sliding in and out of her pussy. Without warning, his mouth left her, and his fingers replaced the warmth of his tongue. First it was one, and then he slowly added another, curling his fingers as he made eye contact with her.

“Fuck,” Elara whimpered, pleasure flooding her body. It was almost too much for her to deal with, the way Fred Weasley was going down on her.

He increased his speed, and Elara arched her back, moaning loudly when he began nipping at her hips, sucking on the soft skin and placing harsh kisses as his fingers pumped faster and faster inside of her. He placed his mouth on her clit, keeping the fast pace with his fingers, and Elara gripped the blanket as a stream of moans left her mouth.

She could feel herself getting close, a coil in her stomach as Fred kept sucking on her clit. As she felt herself nearing the edge, her legs clenching around Fred’s head as she was about to cum, he suddenly pulled away, giving her a cheeky grin with lust filled eyes.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” Elara asked breathlessly, brushing away at the strands of hair that stuck to her forehead.

“Darling, if you want to finish, you’re going to need to beg daddy.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

Fred trailed kisses up her stomach, skillfully reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts free, Fred took a hard nipple in his mouth, the other one he explored with his hand.

“Bite me,” Elara said breathlessly, bucking her hips up to the erection that was pressed against her bare pussy. “Bite me daddy.”

She felt Fred smile rather than saw him, and let out a loud moan as Fred Weasley bit down on her hard nipple, pinching the other one with his fingers. He started grinding his hips into hers as he bit and sucked at her tits, and Elara once again had to grip the blanket in her hands.

“Please, daddy,” Elara gave in, running her nails down Fred’s back. “Make me cum.”

Fred paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. He gave her a quick grin, before quickly ducking back down to suck at her clit again. Once again, the familiar feeling was building up in her lower stomach, and as Fred pumped his fingers in her pussy and his lips sucked on her bundle of nerves, she finally found release, her legs shaking as she came on Fred Weasley’s face.

“You taste so sweet,” his voice was low, his tone cocky. “Now, my turn.”

Fred slipped his boxers off, and the bare skin of his hard dick brushed against her pussy as he teased her entrance with his head. Elara dragged her nails down his back, and Fred thrusted into her with a groan and made Elara gasp as he began pumping in her.

He spread her legs to the side, resting each hand on either inner thigh, causing him to stroke deeply within her. He went softly at first, letting Elara adjust to his massive size, and then began thrusting his hips deep inside her faster and faster. He soon moved his arms on either side of Elara, and she wrapped legs around his waist.

“Fuck, Elara, you feel so damn good around my dick.” Fred moaned out, burrowing his head into her neck.

“Choke me.” said Elara in reply, letting out a moan as Fred hit a new spot inside of her.

Fred complied, much to her surprise. He wrapped one hand around her throat, squeezing harshly, the other hand propping himself up. The force of his thrusting made her tits bounce, and Elara parted her mouth in a silent moan as Fred’s fingers clenched around her esophagus. 

His thrusting became more sloppy, and she knew he was close to coming. Elara could once again feel the build up in her lower stomach, and she knew she was going to cum once more.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum.” the words came out a moan, and Fred pressed a harsh kiss to her neck as he picked up his pace once more.

Her walls clenched around him, and his name fell from her lips as her toes curled and her vision went white. She felt his dick twitch before he came inside her with a loud moan, pulling out his dick and laying next to her on the blanket.

Elara kept her eyes shut, feeling the odd sensation of her pussy twitching. It had been her first time, and it had been with a Weasley. 

After a moment, Fred propped himself up next to her, looking down at her still form. He admired her naked body, committing it to memory for later when he would be alone and drawing the way she looked as he made her orgasm. 

“You could stop staring anytime now.” Elara remarked lightly, her eyes still shut.

“You’re gorgeous.” replied Fred, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple. 

Elara opened her eyes then, shoving Fred away from her and standing. “Alright, that’s my cue to leave. This was fun, trust me, but I really ought to be going.”

“What, you’re just going to leave?” Fred protested, tugging on his boxers as he got up. He kept his eyes on hers as she quickly redressed herself.

“We just needed to get that,” she waved her hands. “Out of our system. Now, we can go back to our separate worlds.”

Fred shook his head, grabbing her hands as she was doing the last button on her blouse. “Elara, we can’t just go back to quietly fancying each other after that.”

Elara’s eyes flashed, and she yanked her hands out of Fred’s grasp. “Watch me.”

Elara tugged her robe on, and after making sure her wand was tucked away, she stormed out of the astronomy tower, leaving Fred Weasley standing alone.

[scuttling]

Silent Treatment

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Word Count: 3,160 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Anger, Fights, Dom/Sub, Vaginal fingering, Unprotected sex, Daddy kink, Established relationship Summary: The biggest, ugliest fight of Aaron and Sophie’s relationship actually begins at work, in the field—go figure. Note: This is a previously published, reformatted work. Link to A03 or read below! The biggest, ugliest fight of Aaron and Sophie’s relationship actually begins at work, in the field—go figure.

They are back at the local precinct after apprehending one of two unsubs when the shouting match portion of the fight occurs; in order to apprehend that unsub, Sophie went against a direct order to vacate an active shooter scene, could have gotten herself killed, and Aaron has been fuming about it since they got in the car.

“Morgan and Rossi are canvassing the neighborhood to see if we can get any new information on the second unsub. You two,” he gestures to Prentiss and Reid, “can interview Daniels. JJ and I will go to the store where the guns were purchased, see if we can get surveillance footage, any information they might have about Daniels and his partner.”

“What about me?” Sophie asks, her body tense, like she already knows what his answer will be.

“You’re staying here. You disobeyed me,” he says, low, because he really doesn’t want to get into it in the conference room, with their peers. It seems she doesn’t quite share the sentiment.

“You can’t bench me because I did something you didn’t like, Hotch,” she protests, crossing her arms, and Prentiss looks awkwardly around the room like she would rather be anywhere else at the moment. Aaron can’t help but agree, can feel his blood boiling, wants to make fists of his hands and punch something.

“I am in charge here, I can do whatever I want.”

“Oh, grow up,” Sophie replies, eyes hard on his. “What I did was smart. Who knows how many more people Daniels would have killed if I hadn’t stopped him. You would have done the same if you were me.”

“What you did was insubordination. You’re lucky I’m not suspending you.” She huffs a harsh laugh and steps toward him with fire in her eyes.

“You can’t suspend me, and you know it,” she grits out, finger pointed in his direction, and he sees red; he reaches up and grabs her wrist, hard, leans in close so there’s no mistaking the order this time.

“Find a ride back to the hotel. You’re done.”

“But I—”

“This is not up for debate.” He doesn’t yell, but he raises his voice enough that Sophie exhales in surprise, swallows hard. He instantly feels bad, feels his face soften, but she just yanks her arm out of this grasp and walks out of the room. Reid shoots him an uncertain look and goes after her.

They wrap up the case that evening, without her help, and the ride home on the jet is tense, silent. Sophie hasn’t spoken a word to him since she stalked out of the conference room to find a cop to drive her back to the hotel, and he’s at the point where he’s starting to wallow a little.

Maybe he was too hard on her. She did apprehend the first unsub, who was vital in locating the second unsub, and people would almost certainly have died if she hadn’t done that. She made a decision in the moment, using the tactical training that was part of the reason he hired her in the first place. And most importantly, she was right: he’d have done the exact same thing in her shoes.

When the plane lands, he reaches overhead and takes down her bag first; he turns to pass it to her, something of a peace offering, but she grabs it out of his hands and heads for the parking lot without a word to anyone.

“Good luck,” Prentiss says with a sad smile when she passes him, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

He’s definitely going to need it.

About halfway to their apartment, Sophie surprises him by looking over at him with a softer gaze than he’s seen all day. He keeps his eyes on the road, but peeks at her out of the corner, doesn’t want to speak too soon and cause her to retreat back into that angry, hurt state of mind.

He’ll give her time. He knows he owes her that.

He parks the car outside their building, and he can tell she wants to make a run for it, so he covers the buckle of her seat belt with his hand—gently, nothing she couldn’t brush aside if she truly didn’t want to stay there with him. It’s not his intention to hold her against her will.

“We need to talk,” he says matter-of-factly, making eye contact with her for the first time since they got off the plane. She sits rigid in her seat, arms folded in her lap.

“I don’t want to talk right now.” Her voice is raspy from disuse, and he brings a tentative hand to her cheek, brushes it with his fingers.

“Are you still angry? I’m willing to give you time to sort out what you want to say, but you can’t shut down on me.” She grits her teeth, exhales through her nose.

“Of course I’m angry, Aaron. You took me off the case for something Reid or Morgan would have gotten away with. That’s bias.”

“Reid or Morgan never would have ignored my order to get back to safety. What you did was smart, but it was also incredibly reckless.” She throws up her hands, as much as she can in the confined space of the car.

“Sometimes we have to do reckless things to get the job done. We’ve all been there.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, because it feels like they’re going in circles, like he’s beating his head off a brick wall.

“The fact of the matter is, I told you no, and you didn’t listen.”

“And if I had listened, and more people died? Do you think that’s going to affect your conscience, or mine?”

His phone rings—Rossi’s name lights up the screen—and he sighs, presses the button on her seat belt, releasing the latch. “Go inside, get undressed, and wait on the bed for me. I’ll be right up.” She studies him a moment, with uncertain eyes, climbs out of the car and slams her door behind her.

When the call is over and he steps into the kitchen, Sophie has the refrigerator door open and she’s rifling through the vegetable drawer, pulling out things that are in her way and throwing them down on the counter behind her. He closes his eyes, exhales long, and reaches out a hand to slam the door shut, startling her.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice calm as he looks down at her. She swallows under his gaze, sets down the bag of broccoli in her hand.

“Making dinner.” She looks over his shoulder, won’t make eye contact, and he sighs deeply. It’s starting to become a thing.

“I told you to get undressed and wait on the bed for me.” She doesn’t reply, and he catches her chin hard between his thumb and forefinger, tips it so she’s looking up into his eyes. Their chests are both heaving, and he knows that his face is a stony, impassive mask he’s never used at home before. “Do as I say.”

“But—”

“You know what words to say if this is truly not something you want. Right?” She grits her teeth, and her eyes are fiery, jaw clenched.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to say those words?” He wants to hold his breath, because there’s a part of him that believes she might say yes, take the out that he’s always given her, that she’s never used. She strings him along, takes a full thirty seconds to say one word.

“No.” He tries not to look as relieved as he feels, just squeezes her chin a bit tighter between his fingers and leans down, so he’s only inches from her face.

“Then do as I say.” She stares him down for a moment, looking like she wants to fight him on it, but she just jerks her head to the side, making him lose his grip, and stalks toward the bedroom.

She is, thankfully, sitting naked on the bed by the time he puts everything she took out of the fridge away. He’s not sure what he would have done if she hadn’t been.

She looks tightly wound, but not nervous, and that almost makes him smile; even after this fucking awful day, this stupid fight, she knows he will take care of her, never make her do something uncomfortable or that would hurt in a way she doesn’t want. He takes off his jacket, his shirt and tie, his pants, but stays in his undershirt and boxers so she knows he’s not planning to get off for a while.

“On your stomach,” he instructs, and she turns without argument, stretches out with her ass up, legs spread a little. It’s so inviting, makes him want to just shove his cock in and take her, but that won’t solve their problem, so he holds himself back.

He crawls over her and presses his lips to her ear, her shoulder, trails them down her back, and she’s breathing heavy, eyes closed, face turned to the side. It’s a good sign. He kisses her butt, her thighs, her calves and ankles, and then gets off the bed and walks around to his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. Drizzling it over her pussy makes her shiver, but she says nothing, does nothing but pant when he rubs her with his fingers.

He’s surprised to feel that she’s already wet, would have thought it would take some time to warm her up when she’s been so angry with him all day, but then, he’s been hard for some time now, so it makes sense. It just moves up the timeline of his plan, a little, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

He reaches down around her belly to place a finger on her clit, slowly teasing it, massaging it, and he can see her struggling to contain a moan.

If that’s how she wants to be, that’s fine with him.

His other hand rubs the lube against her opening, two fingers pressing in slow and steady. She is tight, maybe not as soaked and ready as she usually is, but turned on enough that she clenches around him when he’s in as far as he can go, when she can feel his other knuckles against her ass. He fingers her slowly, quietly, rubbing her clit with a wet fingertip, and he sighs contentedly, because it’s Friday night and he’s got all the time in the world to coax his girl back to him.

Five minutes pass by, then ten, before she finally makes a sound, and it’s gorgeous, a whimper of need that goes straight to his dick. He responds by fucking his fingers in faster, leaning down to press his lips to her back in a loving kiss.

“There you are. Do you want to come with my fingers in you?” She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even register that she heard him, but he knows she’s not asleep. “Can you reach back and touch me, please, if you want to come?” It takes a moment, but she lifts her arm and reaches for him, grabs a bit of his shirt in her hands. “Good girl. Thank you, baby.” He presses in quick and deep, glides two fingers over her clit in time with his thrusts, and the combination has her clenching around him, coming, nearly silently, and he kind of hates it. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re pruny from working on her for so long, and that, he kind of likes.

He kisses up and down the length of her body again, gets as close as her cheek, can feel her warm breath, but she’s still tense and angry, that much is clear. He gets up, goes to the bathroom, and washes his hands; when he returns, she hasn’t moved, except to make her arms more comfortable.

“My turn,” he murmurs in her ear, and he takes off his clothes, gets behind her on the bed on his knees; her pussy is shiny with lube and her own juices, and he hums at the sight of it, achingly hard.

His legs are spread, and he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her body toward him, opens her legs so they’re spread as well, her knees hooked around his. She is soft, willing, pliant, and it’s easy to line the head of his dick up at her entrance and pull her back onto it; the moan he gets in return for the little bit of manhandling puts the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Baby girl, it’s time for you to do as I say. Are you ready to behave?” She says nothing, but reaches a hand back to touch his thigh. He supposes he’ll take it. “I want you to fuck me, make me come in you. I’m not going to move at all, so you have to do it for me, okay?” She groans a little, but squeezes his thigh, and he covers the hand with his; she lets him, for a moment, before pulling away.

She takes his order seriously, fists her fingers into the sheets and rocks back and forth on him, her whole body working, her gorgeous ass bouncing against him. She is so beautiful as she moves, the muscles of her back visible, and her thighs, all that golden skin on display, and he has to exert so much control to not just put his hands on her shoulders and pound her until she’s senseless.

“There you go. Such a good girl for daddy,” he coos, and he does palm her ass, squeeze it, just because he wants to. “My good girl, smart girl. So well behaved. Keep fucking me, baby.” He can see that she works harder at his words, and it sounds so good—she’s so drenched in lube and slick that soft, wet noises echo in their bedroom—but she won’t speak, barely makes a sound, and he hates it and he’s just so fucking done with the day.

Then, like the sweet little miracle she is, Sophie starts moaning, loudly, pure, desperate, eager moaning, like music to his goddamn ears. She’s changed the angle of her hips, and he bets her clit is rubbing against the bedding, maybe her nipples too, and all that sensation has her too blissed out to stay angry—which, with the help of a little blatant domination, is maybe what he was looking for all along. He hums, rubs his hands over her hips, and she breathes a sigh.

“I’m fucking you, daddy. I’m… behaving,” she gasps, slamming her ass hard against him. “Are you gonna come, daddy? Please come, daddy, I promise I’ll listen. I promise I’ll be good.”

God, he missed that mouth.

“I’ll come if you make me, sweet girl. Are you going to make me?”

“Yeah,” she pants, rubbing against the sheets, humping back against him furiously, and he is close, but he likes the frenzy she’s worked herself into. “Yeah, you can come in me, daddy, you can trust me. Promise. I can do it.”

“Oh, I know you can, baby.” Giving in, he plants his hands hard on her hips, squeezing tight, and he comes, feels wrung dry by her frantic, unrelenting thrusts. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he groans, a little sensitive, but no way he pulls out until she’s finished, not now. “Let go, let go for me.” He can see a light sheen of sweat on her back, her neck, and she arches, shudders, and whines, bites the sheets when she comes.

He doesn’t slip out of her until she’s panting, trembling, and even then he just turns her around and kisses her for so long he gets dizzy from it. She clings to his arms, nuzzles against his throat, and he sighs in relief for the first time that day.

They cuddle and kiss for a while after that, probably too long, considering they’d gotten home around ten and still hadn’t eaten dinner or done anything but fight. Still, he can’t find it in him to be anywhere but in her arms after everything that happened. She rubs her nose against his, sweet, presses her lips there.

“I’m sorry. You were right. Whether or not I thought I was doing the right thing—I don’t make the calls on this team. You do. I have to trust that you weigh all the consequences before you give an order, and I didn’t do that today. I really am sorry.” He brushes her hair back behind her ear, kisses her mouth, gazes softly down at her. His heart aches with love.

“You were right, too. When I knew there was a guy out there with a semiautomatic looking for cops, my first thought wasn’t about Morgan or Reid or anyone but you. I was a little biased, and I was harder on you because of my own shortcomings. Not yours. I’m sorry.” He kisses her again, slower, kisses her nose so she’ll smile, so he can tease her a bit. “Not sure I deserved the silent treatment, though...” To her credit, she does look a little sheepish, and she pulls him close for another kiss.

“It was childish, I know. But then once you got me on the bed, it wasn’t a choice anymore. It became real, and I couldn’t figure out how to get back to you. You were so patient,” she praises, brushing fingers over his forehead, his hair out of his face.

“Because I love you,” he replies, resting his head on her chest; she scratches at the nape of his neck, and it feels so good he lets his eyes drift shut. “Don’t jab your finger at me again, though, you brat,” he teases after a moment; she looks down at him, and he opens one eye and laughs.

“I was pissed,” she explains, laughing with him, and she shoves at his shoulder. “And you get grabby, which you know only makes me more angry.” They settle back against the pillows, even though they both know they need to get up, get showered, get food. “You are hot when you’re mad, I’ll give you that.”

“Well you’re fucking impossible.” She rolls her eyes playfully and pushes him off of her, climbs off the bed.

“Yeah, well you love me, so. Deal with it.” He watches her as she heads for the bathroom, all perfect body and lovely hair and goodness, and she throws a look over her shoulder that makes it look like she thinks he’s an idiot. He really missed that look. “You coming?”

“I’m coming—wait, we should order dinner first. Indian?”

“Thai,” her voice echoes from the bathroom, and he sighs.

At least she’s not silent, anymore.

[ciderxi]

Yeosang- Stolen

Yeosang x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Smut, Pwp

Word Count: 2.3K

Fuck, Yeosang I'm telling you I didn't take it!"

You were met with another harsh smack against the curve of your ass. You let out a muffled yelp as you feel another red hand print begin to form. "I told you to stop lying to me!" He let out a low growl, massaging the place where he had just smacked. The stinging sensation causes you to hiss once more. "Now tell me where it is, and I'll let you off easy~"

Because Yeosang had misplaced his skateboard, you were now laying on his lap. The two of you completely naked as he 'interrogated' you about his missing skateboard.

"Yeosanggie~ You know I wouldn't take it, and I wouldn't lie to you either~" you hoped that the sweetness in your voice was enough to soothe him out of his blind rage. You feel his hand move away from caressing your ass, and sigh in relief, thinking he's calmed down. You smiled and looked back at him" I knew you'd beli-FUCK" You whimpered, feeling the familiar sting on your ass once again. "I guess you want to do this the hard way then" his words make you squirm nervously on his lap, trying to recover from the pain once more. "I'll just have to fuck the truth out of you then."

"Yeosang please I really didn't do it!" you whined against the bed, trying to wiggle out of grip. Don't get things wrong, you loved this side of him, but you didn't want to get punished because of something you clearly didn't do. You'd end up falling on your ass the second you even stepped on a skateboard. Why would you steal it? But of course Yeosang wasn't having it, He didn't spare you a glance before dropping you on the bed, your stomach colliding with the soft comforter. And your face landing just inches from the headboard. "Hey! I'm telling you I didn't take it, why won't you believe me?"

"Just like that time you didn't eat my chicken" he glared back at you, eyes full of rage. Letting you know that there was no way he was going to let you off easy, not this time. He lowered himself onto the bed, grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart. Eyes full of lust as already envisioned himself pounding inside of you. But he still wasn't satisfied, he wanted every inch of you melting under his touch.

"Yeosang it was just chicken, get ov-" Your words were cut off by the sting of hand, a small moan escaping from your lips. You wanted to plead your case again, but you didn't dare speak, knowing it would only upset him more.

"You liked that, didn't you?"

"NO! Of course not!" you tried to stabilize your breathing, not wanting to admit defeat so quickly. Especially since you didn't steal the goddamn skateboard.

Yeosang scoffed as he ran a finger in between your folds, the sensation causing you to move your ass in the air, subconsciously begging for him."You're already so wet for me. I bet you stole it on purpose, didn't you princess? You wanted me to punish you?"

Your eyes went wide as you looked back at him, the sight causing your heart to drop. His face merely inches away from your soaked entrance.Swearing that your legs would have given out had you been standing. The mere sight causes your heart to pound, drowning out his words. The sharp sting of his hand on your ass quickly brings you back.

"I said, on your back. Don't make me repeat myself AGAIN Y/n"

With that, you quickly slipped yourself over, now laying on your back, legs subconsciously spread, anticipating his next move.

He let out a satisfied hum, gripping your thighs to hold you down. "Fuck, you're so wet, and I've barely touched you" he looked up at you, smirking at the sight before him, his eyes practivally devouring you. Immediately he dove his tongue between your folds, feverishly moving his tongue up and down your slit. Pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit. His hands working diligently to keep your squirming body still for him. Moans filling the room as you tried your best to cover them. "Yeosang, they're going to hear us!" you pleaded, only to be ignored. his tongue still inside of you with his nose is bumping against your clit. He then moves up to wrap his lips around the little bud with a demanding suck, covering his chin with your wetness.His tongue feverishly licking up every

He moved his hands up to your waist, continuing to hold you in place while he worked on your clit. Loving the way you moaned and tugged on his hair.His tongue making his way into you, running circles around your clit as pumped two fingers into you. You were already so close to your high, letting your hips thrust up against him for more.

You were finally ready,watching as his eyes focused on yours the entire time. Yeosang pulled away from your entrance, grinning as you whined in dismay. "Yeosang.... I need you" You let out another shaky breath, rubbing your legs together for the tiniest bit of friction. He watched as you tried to move a hand down to pleasure yourself, scoffing as he easily pinned it over your head. "I'm not going to let you cum that easily. Not until you tell me where you hid my skateboard"

"Please..."

He was loving this, loving every word that came out of your mouth." Hm? What do you want Y/n?" He was winding you up, he wanted you to beg for his touch. His mouth was removed to your neck, licking, kissing, biting every inch of skin. Leaving new pretty marks to decorate every bit of skin.

"You know what I want" You whined, biting your lip in anticipation. The sensation of new hickies forming caused you to squirm beneath him. Knowing you definitely wouldn't be able to hide those

"Well, i guess if you don't tell me, i'll just tie you up and leave you here until you d-"

"Fuck me"

"Hm? I didn't hear you"

The pink shade of your cheeks quickly turned red, you were barely about to say it the first time, now he wants you to repeat it?

"I want you to fuck me Yeosang, please!"

"You're so needy for my cock, right Y/n? Do you want me to fuck you so they can here you screaming my name?"

His words immediately washed away all your shame, not caring if they heard you anymore, it's not like the rest of Ateez was full of virgins. Especially not San.

"Yes"

"Perfect" He positioned himself between your legs, his entire body now above yours. You watched as he positioned the tip at your entrance. His hungry gaze caused a chill to run down your spine.

You barely had time to breathe before he was shoving his cock inside of you, the familiar length still stretching you out like the first time "Fuck~" Your head fell back onto the pillow, needing another second to adjust.

Yeosang let himself bottom out of the first thrust, the encompassing warmth causing him to shudder. Trying desperately not to ravage you in that instant. Your hands gripped the sheets, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Yeosang~"

You shifted your hips up a bit and a shiver shot through you when Yeosang pulled out of you halfway and then slid back in slowly. He took your light moans as his signal to move, quickly slamming his hips into yours. The sudden movement caused you to hiss, gripping the sheets as if your life depended on it. The bed shook with every thrust, quickly alerting the rest of Ateez on what was going on. But you were too focused on the surmounting pleasure to care.

He removed one of his hands from your hip, letting it run along your body, giving your breast a firm squeeze. His fingers playing with your nipples before gently making their way to your neck. A barely audible moan left your lips as he wrapped his hand around your neck. His long hair draping over his eyes. His hips ramming into yours as he tightened his grip around your neck, only letting go after you meet his gaze. "Yeo-" a slew of lewd moans leaving your lips before you could utter his name.

Your back arched as you could do nothing but melt under his touch, too dizzy with the pleasure to do anything more. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, filling the room along with your desperate moans. Your skin felt like it was on fire, the pleasure jolting in your body being too much. He was watching you melt under his touch, and he was loving every second.

"You hear that?" he asked breathlessly. He gave a particularly hard thrust, forcing you to moan uncontrollable. Nearly gasping every time he hit your g-spot. "You hear how wet you are for me? I bet you wanted everyone to hear you scream my name,right?"

A garbled mess of moans was all that left your lips, unable to form a coherent sentence while he pounded into you.

He yanked on your hair roughly when you didn't answer, shoving his cock into you as far as he could and holding himself still while he panted above you. Letting out a low groan as he resisted the urge to keep pounding into you. "Don't stop" you whined, rocking your hips in desperation. "Please...I was so close, Don't make me beg"

"go ahead," he said breathlessly. peering up to look you straight in your eyes. "let everyone hear how much of a whore you are for me." he moved his hips at a torturously slow rate, forcing you to focus as he dragged his dick into your g spot. You wiggled your hips roughly against his. "Please..."

You whimpered, your mind too hazy to protest at this point. You needed him, and he had you right where he wanted you. Yeosang grinned at your reaction, immediately rolling his hips into you as deep as he could go.

"Say my name, let everyone know who owns you" he growled, thrusting again right into your sweet spot. Another abrupt moan escaping your lips. "Yeosang~"

"Louder!" the huskiness in his voice sent chills into your body, almost shaking as you felt the knot in your stomach build up again. The sound of his moans coupled with the slapping of skin only adding to it. "I-I" you couldn't force out any words, your moans and gasps cutting them off too soon.

"Fuck Y/n, I'm gonna cum" his voice was thick with lust, the pleasure forcing him to bury his face in your neck. Letting out husky moans in between shaky breaths. His moans become louder as you feel his thrusts become sloppier and more animalistic. Biting your neck, before attacking you in a kiss. Tongue exploring your mouth as he did his best to cover both of your moans.

"I fucking love you" He groaned out, letting his hips slam into yours once more. His seed spilled inside of you. His moans causing you to reach your high, wrapping your legs around his waist as he proceeded to give a few more thrusts. Making sure he pushed his cum deep inside of you. Your body shook as it came down from it's high, letting out a small whine. "Yeosang~" was all that you could mutter out. You had your legs still around his waist, too lazy to remove them. "Yeah Y/n?"

"I still didn't take your skateboard"

"Oh someone wants to for a round two?" he growled, his dick slowly becoming hard again.

"Wa-"

"YO Yeosang I borrowed your skate-" Wooyoung shouted as he cluelessly barged in, followed by the rest of the members. All certain that he was going to get chewed out for taking the skateboard. Only to be faced with the image of his best friend's sweaty and still on top of, and inside of you. "Jongho look away! Your poor virgin eyes!" Mingi screamed, his hands immediately racing to cover Jongho's eyes again.

"I'm 19! AND I'M NOT A VIR-" Hongjoong's hand shot up to cover his mouth, as Seonghwa shot him a horrified look. "We'll have to give him the talk after we deal with the pornstars here"

"YOU TOOK MY SKATEBOARD?!?!" a look of rage emerged on his face, ignoring your pleas to let you cover yourself. Too enraged to even think about getting dressed. Jumping out of bed and walking towards Wooyoung

"Hyung chill out, and put on some clothes!" Wooyoung tried to back up, but was blocked by all the frantic members screaming at Yeosang to put some clothes on. Now standing toe to toe with his 'best friend'. His still hard dick being wayyyy too close for the now horrified members.

"Do you have any clue what I just did to Y/n's ass because I thought she took my skateboard???"

"I heard it, he went hala hala on her ass!" Jongho proclaimed. Seemingly being the only one who knew what was happening the whole time.

"For fucks sake get out! I still have your cum dripping out of me! Yeosang let's go shower"

[samingtonwilson]

Sweet Creature

Summary: sam is in love with the girl at the front desk of the VA, but he has the ability to help-- so he will. (named after the harry styles song but not ENTIRELY based off it. takes place pre-TWS, through AOU, until right before CW) 

Pairing: sam wilson x reader

Warnings: language. NSFW, sexual content, 18+. very slightly angsty.

A/N: i don’t usually write smut and here i am, writing 2 sex scenes in one one-shot. anyway sam wilson is an angel who has been through a lot and is still full of love.

gif below isn’t mine.

She’s hired in autumn and it’s like color bursts with every step she takes. 

Dull grayscale fades into red and yellow leaves, orange and pink sunsets. The burning sun finally cools, grains of desert sand stuck to his every memory slowly trickle away with the chilly breeze. Jack-o-lantern grins hurt his cheeks less, words exchanged over lukewarm coffee now spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg come easier. 

He hears the whistling of birds at dawn without the thought of malfunctioning wings, sleeps in a bed of softness without an ironic longing for dirt and rock mattresses under attacking stars. 

He falls in love in autumn. And smiles.

A smile that’s gap-toothed and silly by winter. A smile that brings warmth and sweetness to bitterly frozen December mornings. One which he offers her as he slides a cardboard cup across her desk, a white napkin tucked underneath it. 

She sees him listen in winter. Sees him as he lets others bleed on him while he bandages himself in silence. 

She hears him give heavy advice with a lightness that makes the others chuckle, like glittering rays of sunlight tearing through the blanket of clouds which is spread by mid-afternoon nowadays. 

He demystifies plastic bags that resemble harbingers of death, dispels blame and shamefully missed opportunities in favor of forgiveness and acceptance. He offers ribbon to tie a broken heart together, balm to ease the tightness of guilt. 

And it’s all done real easy. Pain isn’t discounted. It’s merely no longer thought of as the sublime mountain range of Romanticism. It’s real and surmountable, it has a slow-acting— but acting, nonetheless— antidote. There is liberty to be attained. Enlightenment.

There’s hope. A word which had lost its meaning until it’s said with those hot cocoa eyes and that woolen smile. A word that hurts less each time it’s used. 

She watches him radiate heat in the form of realistic optimism in winter. And falls in love. 

They’re setting up chairs one morning in spring. Half-past eight, the smell of percolating coffee and a greasy pink box of donuts in cool air. Sam’s phone is connected to the AUX cord, it plays something bluesy. A little sleepy sounding, but infinitely smooth. 

It reminds her of his voice as he greets her each weekday morning, his smile a saxophone solo and laughter a symphony. 

“I’ve been thinking.” 

Setting a chair beside the one Sam has just unfolded, she smiles. “That’s never a good sign.”

Deep brown eyes narrow in playful annoyance. “Cute.” 

“I’m aware.”

“I want to take you out.” 

She stills, rubber caps fastened to the end of the chair legs like boots are suspended just above the floor. Her eyes meet Sam’s as he stands a few feet away. He wears an effortless, confident smile and she stifles one back. Albeit miserably. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about? Asking me on a date?” 

“Among other things.” 

Something about the way he says it, that soft glimmer in his eyes and slyness in his smile, makes heat rise to her cheeks. She doesn’t look away, though. Simply narrows her eyes and sets the chair down. “Yeah? Like what?” 

He leans in her direction to take a folded chair from the rack behind her. She can smell his cologne, feel the warmth which rolls off him in waves, and something in her seems to catch on fire. Softly, he replies, “Say yes and we’ll talk about it on the date.” 

“Bribes don’t work on me,” she says, nose wrinkled as it almost bumps against his. She smooths his collar with nimble fingertips, gently brushing the cotton of his button-up. 

He watches as she looks up at him through her eyelashes and he nearly loses his balance— clumsy at the sight even as he stands still. 

“Give me until the end of the day to think about it?”

“Take as long as you want,” he breathes before he can help it, practically putty. 

Her nod comes with a smile. Something gentle and sweet. Steps slow and casual as she walks to the door. 

“Sam,” she calls, fingers wrapped around the wooden doorframe. Everything about her posture speaks to a reluctance to leave, a reluctance to follow that stupid advice from her old college roommate to mask eagerness. She grins when he looks up from the coffee he’s pouring. “I want you to take me out, too.” 

He grins as well. The coffee pot is set back down and he slips his hand into his pocket. Casual. 

Right? 

He hopes so. “You free tomorrow night?” 

“Tomorrow night?” she repeats with a laugh. Colorful against the beige walls, scuffed tile floors. “A little eager?” 

A shrug. Casual. 

But the look he gives her? Far from. “Maybe.” 

She looks away with a frown of consideration. Sends a smile to one of the regulars of Sam's sessions as he slides past her to enter the room with a short wave in greeting, sun-creased fingers and anemia-paled nails a brief flourish. “How about tonight then?” 

The gushing red of the first date seems to bleed into the second. 

The days between pass with sly looks, smiles hidden behind coffee cups and wrapped around smoothie straws. It’s as if his eyes have remained in hers since that night over a dinner she can’t remember the taste of. That same glimmer, that same miserably hidden desire and elation she knows are in her eyes, too. 

He touches her more in those days when the sun lingers a bit longer and the petals of flowering dogwood blossoms stick to the bottom of her shoes. Deep amber toned skin meets hers when a thumb sweeps over her knuckles, when a hand is placed at the small of her back, when fingers tangled together are hidden between them as they walk to the Hall C vending machine together— whispers about no other vending machine having the ginger ale she likes. 

There’s longing in those touches and whispers. In the looks exchanged across the lobby of the VA. In his posture as he stands in her doorway, a single long stem white rose in his hand. And especially in his gaze as he scans the length of her, done up all pretty for a movie he doubts he’ll be able to pay attention to. 

It’s just as well, though, as they don’t make it to the movie.

She invites him in, mumbling something about needing to fasten an earring, and forgets about it as soon as he takes a step to invade the space she’s kept open for him all along. 

A gentle breath when she thinks her eyelashes might caress his skin before she can and her laugh is a little nervous when she plucks the rose from his gentle grip. “I should put this in water.” 

He nods, but neither of them move. It’s only a second that his eyes slip a glance to her lips. But in that second he’s conveyed the shakiness in both their chests and the rose is forgotten at her feet as his lips claim hers. 

Warm fingers curve around the nape of her neck, holding her steady as he pours every bit of longing and withheld desperation into the kiss. She grasps the softness of his thin sweater in her fists and pulls him closer, smiling against his lips when a groan is ripped from his chest. 

A blind kick— one which has Sam worried that he’ll put a hole through her wall— shuts the door and a graceful spin has her back pushed into the splintering wood she’d painted turquoise a week after moving in. 

The brass knob digs into her side but it’s entirely ignored. All she can perceive is every solid, stone-like inch of his body— hot like fire beneath burgundy cotton— pressed against her, his soft but urgent lips moving with hers. 

It’s another minute, hour, decade perhaps of firecracker heat before he breaks the kiss. He smiles at the weight keeping her eyes closed, forehead lazily set against hers. He visually traces the slight swelling of her lips, the smudged gloss he’s sure is smeared over his own mouth in a thin, shiny layer on her cupid’s bow and the skin below her bottom lip. 

She sweeps her tongue over it, as if it’ll help bring her back to Earth. Her eyelashes flutter up toward her brows. Irises a mere ring around pupils blown wide, she gazes at deep brown eyes just barely honeyed by overhead bulbs. 

He watches his thumb glide over her cheek, feather-light over her lips. Commits the image and feel to memory. 

There’s amazement in his eyes. Perhaps at the confirmation that she is just as soft as he’d imagined. Perhaps at the feeling of finally. And, through harsh breath, his voice is hoarse as he says, “The movie’s in twenty minutes.” 

Before she can reply, he presses a kiss to her left temple, her left cheek then her right. Another kiss at the corner of lips now pitched upward and smooth lips glide over her jaw, then just below. She cranes her neck for him. “I have movies here.” 

His smile is felt rather than seen and it inspires one of her own. A strong arm winds around her waist, tight and answer enough. But, once he’s kissed his way to her lips again, he voices one anyway, “Even better.” 

She closes whatever centimeters of distance separate their lips and sighs when his hands slide behind her thighs, lifting her so that she can hook her legs around his waist. Her arms wrap around his neck and, somehow, she feels as if they aren’t close enough. Not with the layers of fabric separating them, not as he stands only feet from her door. 

His step backwards is hesitant, slow. 

“Down the hall,” she tells him, lips brushing his, “first door to the left.” 

His eyes open, but struggle to remain so when she presses kisses everywhere he had. Barely a foot past the hall entryway, she nips the skin beneath the hard line of his jaw a bit harshly. A soft hiss through his teeth and her tongue soothes the sting. It has his steps faltering until he presses her against the wall to join their lips in a deep but quick kiss. 

Her bedroom door is ajar and requires only the gentle push of her fingers to allow them through. The setting sunlight streaming through her drapes paints patches of her white comforter a deep gold, shining over her mirror and closet door. 

Everything about the space is warm and inviting. From the rumpled grey faux fur throw blanket and the floral rug placed before her bed, to the melted candles in glass jars and sloppily made porcelain vases he thinks she must have thrown and glazed herself. 

He lowers her onto the bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows haphazardly thrown near the headboard, and firmly kisses her lips— but only for a moment. “Baby, are you—” coffee brown eyes pop open to meet hers. “Are you sure? We don’t have to—” 

“I know we don’t have to.” Her nose wrinkles before she smiles up at him, sun outlining her features. “It might be a little soon, but I’ve wanted this for a while.” 

He grins in return. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So have I.” 

She narrows her eyes. A jesting glare, a contradictory smile. “And you waited this long to tell me? Disgraceful, Wilson.” 

“I’ll make it up to you.” The pitch of his voice is lowered, he ducks his head so his lips skim the skin behind her ear. He hears the hitch in her breath when his teeth scrape a particularly sensitive spot and shifts his weight so his hips rock into hers. “Over, and over, and over.”

The grind is faint. Barely there. But her mind reels, her nerves spark. Voice a mess of sighs, she asks, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Guess you’ll have to be patient and see,” he says, but only once he’s nudged his nose against hers. Spared a long look into her eyes. Watched as her tender bottom lip is bitten.

His hands— such, such good hands, all warm and strong and safe— are everywhere. One grips the tip of her chin to mould their lips together, one skims bare skin just below the hem of her shirt. Fingers soft and the press of them gentle, blunt nails run up her side to follow the curve of her waist, tracing the band of her bra and just barely along the underside of a lace cup. 

He tips her chin upward to trail his lips to her throat. She gasps at the feel of a bite, the lap of a tongue just as his fingers pop the button on her jeans, and the muscles in her abdomen contract as he moves lower. 

His hands now push the knit fabric further and further up— slowly, inch by inch— until, in impatience, she lifts her shoulders and strips it away. Chin set just above her waistband, Sam grins at her. His low laughter is more felt than heard. “A little eager?” 

He’s met with a glower as she reaches back to unclasp her bra and toss it aside— and it only makes him laugh harder. However her frustration is merely a thin veil. A veil which has gone sheer the moment she struggles against a smile. 

Though there hasn’t been a loss of the heat in either of their eyes, their movements are now decidedly unhurried. The drag of his knuckles as he pulls black denim and lace the color of marigolds over her ass and down her legs once he’s tucked his shoulder under her thighs. The slow lift of his gaze as he seems to study every inch of her. The path of his lips and tongue from her belly button to her breasts to her lips. And the languid kiss that follows. 

Her leg hooks over his hip and, though she breaks the kiss, she speaks against his lips, “You’re a little overdressed.” 

Feeling him smile, she pushes against him and manages to roll him onto his back so her knees dig into the mattress. A playfully smug waggle of her eyebrows and she giggles— and, oh, he thinks his heart might burst at that. At the sight of her disheveled and a little scuffed from his ministrations. At the sight of her so bare and vulnerable, but so trusting and strong and happy.

He stares up at her, not hiding any bit of wonder or love, as she imitates the way he’d pushed the fabric of her shirt up her torso until he pulls it off the rest of the way. When she leans over him to kiss him once more, his hands cup her face to hold her there, barely registering in his mind how she unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans. 

Thoroughly kissed silly, she presses swollen lips to his jaw, his neck, shimmying lower until she’s knelt between his legs. A lift of his hips helps her remove the bothersome fabric and she gives him a slow study of her own. That deep shade of his skin— interrupted only by a few lifted scars littered over his chest— seems to glow and reflect the golden shade of sunlight. Early evening sunlight which brightens already sparkling eyes, an already shining smile. 

Just as she makes to lean down a bit, intending to teach him the feel of his hard length down her throat, he sits up, fingers comb through her hair to guide her lips back to his. 

His arm then wraps around her waist and he pulls her into his lap, those soft, deliberate fingers slipping between her legs. The kiss gains further urgency when she moans into his mouth. When she rolls her hips to grind against his fingers. When he slips in a finger, then two, as his thumb moves against her clit and she arches into him. 

A slight lift of her hips only to bring them back down, Sam’s lips are at her neck now. A stroke of his thumb, a curl to his fingers as they’re thrust deep inside her. Her whimper is broken, a little choked as her walls tighten around his fingers. “Fuck. God, Sam.” 

He looks up at her. Stares at the shadow her eyelashes cast over her cheekbones, the plumpness of her parted lips, that wrinkle of tension between her brows. His hand moves faster, impatient as if he can feel the tight coiling in her stomach, the heat slowly creeping through her limbs. 

A whine escapes his throat as she practically shivers at a particularly slow, purposeful stroke of his thumb. “There we go, baby. Come on, I’ve got you.”

She says something. Something she herself doesn’t grasp. Stutters it, stammers it, slurs it.

Arm resting on his shoulders, her nails dig into his back harshly as the coil snaps. All at once. Walls fluttering, pulsing around thick fingers. Heat impossibly higher in trembling legs and tense arms. 

But it’s not enough. 

Not until, a slight burn and quiver in her thighs, she rises to her knees and grasps him at the base. She swallows over the thickness in her throat as she twists her wrist in a slow stroke of her own. Over his answering shudder, she says, “Condom.” 

A steadying breath. “I’ve got one in my wallet.”

He looks over her shoulder to the floor where the dark denim has been carelessly tossed and nearly whimpers.

Then she giggles. Presses herself closer and tilts a little to the left to reach into a drawer in the bedside table. She tears the package and seems to go purposefully slow as she rolls the latex down the length of him, smiling as her hand, loosely gripping him, sweeps back up and he softly groans. “Did you come here with expectations, Sam?” 

“Just precautionary.” 

Another laugh and a skeptical, “Uh-huh.”

So stiff she feels empathetic pain, she sinks down on him with little resistance. A bit of a lift, then down further. 

She, resisting the downward pull of her eyelids, watches him. As his eyes close, lips part, chest falls. All as he sighs. A loud rumble of relief from deep in his chest. 

He hits a point so far inside of her, it very nearly hurts. So thick, she feels she might have been split in two had he not taken the edge off so expertly. 

And he finds himself having to regulate his breaths. Not to choke at the silky feel of her stretched around him. Not to embarrass himself so quickly because it’s been so long. Since he’s had sex, yes— but especially since he’s felt anything near what she inspires in him, from wonderment to adoration, from blissful to so much love. 

“You doin’ okay?” through light laughter, she asks. Her voice is not much more than an exhale and there’s a soft squeeze around him. Not nearly at the strength of his fingers on her hips, though, bruising and stilling as she experimentally rolls her hips. 

She can’t help her smile at the hissed grunt he lets loose, at his own reacting laughter— dry, a little embarrassed. “Gotta give me a second, baby.” 

It’s only a few seconds— seconds she spends familiarizing herself with the heavy weight of him inside of her— before those same hands beckon movement. First by adjusting her legs so she crosses her ankles behind his back, then by pulling her impossibly closer.  

She pulls off of him inch by inch, sighs a moan at the slow drag of him, and whimpers at the snap of his hips, his voice gruff as he grinds out, “Fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

He punctuates the statement with a hard thrust, drawing a gasped whimper from her, and effectively takes control as his hands guide her hips forward and back. One hand, however, slides across her skin to her neck, his fingers curving around her nape and tangling through knotted hair to pull her into a messy kiss. 

She pants against his lips, kiss broken when his hips— definitely showing off— take on a somewhat circular motion as he thrusts. Her head tips back as he relearns the taste of her throat. 

His teeth scrape that spot he’d learned about just a few minutes— although it feels like a lifetime— ago just as his fingers slide between her legs, carefully passing over that bundle of nerves before pressing down fully with rapid movements. 

It’s as if that firecracker heat now sparkles up her spine, back arching into him as her vision seems to white out. Her walls tighten, her moans broken. 

“God, fuck.” His voice is harsh. Deeper than usual as he watches himself disappear inside her, each thrust more difficult than the last with the way she clamps down harder. 

He tries to stall the warmth that spreads through him, tries to hold himself back, but as his eyes trace every bit of her before focusing on the way pleasure twists her features, he thinks he might snap. Voice now verging on revelatory, he breathes, “So fuckin’ good, so perfect.” 

“Sam— Sam, I’m—” 

He doesn’t voice how thankful he is. Doesn’t praise the heavens aloud because fuck knows he wasn’t going to last much longer at all. 

He thrusts deep, hard. Sweet words mere babble against her lips, hips and fingers working quicker until—

His name is a mantra. The mingling of kaleidoscopic visions beneath shut eyelids and alight sandalwood incense nerves a kind of meditation. 

“Goddamn.” He slows but doesn’t stop working his hips against hers. The sounds from his throat blending with hers as he feels the quick squeeze and release around him, pulsing waves overtaking him entirely. “Fuck, fuck.” 

One last thrust. As far as he can go. And he spills white hot into the condom, words a mixture of curses and praises, declarations and damnations. She’d forgotten her own name in the throws of it all until he says it. Repeats it. A confirmation of reality to them both.

Silence apart from jagged breaths. Sunlight depleting, but she finds his skin still glows, eyes are still bright as he stares right back at her. 

It starts as a silent chuckle through her nose, one that is more felt as she shakes than heard. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip in an attempt to hold it in— this odd, messy laughter of happiness, and surprise, and so much love. It bubbles out of her anyway, especially as he grins in return. 

She doesn’t care about the goofiness of her laughter. The hiccupy punctuations liberally littered throughout. Doesn’t care about the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, along the bridge of her nose. The smudged makeup it sharpens. She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his lips, smiling when he follows her after she pulls away. 

“So are we gonna talk about that condom you brought?” 

A groan born of a snicker, he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His hands follow the curve of her waist, the indents of her discarded bra against her back and shoulders. Touches meant to memorize, rather than rouse. His thumbs sweep across her ribcage. “Told you. They’re just precautionary.” 

She gasps. Entirely too dramatic. “‘They’?” Her nails dig into his shoulder a little mean when he refuses to loosen the strong arm around her waist. 

He immediately lifts his head to glare at her and she glares back, far more convincing than he could ever be. “‘They.’ ‘They’!” 

She pokes her fingertip into his side. Once, then twice when his hold on her only tightens. “Did you have a big night planned, Sam? Huh?” 

Twice more and he sighs, pushes off the bed to roll the two of them over, smiles at the surprised squeak falling from her lips. He slips out of her as he holds himself above her. “You never know what might happen.”

“At the movies?” she asks. He’s sure he would’ve been able to hear the grin in her voice even if he hadn’t seen it stretching swollen lips. Another jab to his ribs and he hisses. “Just in case we fucked at the movies?”

In one hand, he grasps both of her wrists and pins them against the mattress. “Try it now.” 

Though his grip is loose enough for her to simply twist out of, she glowers up at him. But the glimmer in her eye, the way her toes trace up his calf stirs something still burning inside him. Tone deadpan, she murmurs, “Oh, no. What a terrible position you’ve got me in. What will I do now?” 

Though night falls quickly, draining the room of light but not desire, she sees her bedroom walls turn pink, her comforter now the hue of strawberry bubblegum. 

It seems to blossom more and more each night they spend tangled together beneath her sheets. On the kitchen counter after an early morning trip to the farmer’s market. In her car when the film is just too boring and she kisses him just too fucking much to stay in that fucking theater any longer. Against the wall beside his front door after he’d vanished with that new super-friend of his to chase down a ghost story on a busy highway. 

A pink balloon which pops before summer. Wilted scraps cast a shadow over cotton candy skies, browning once-green grass now gone unwatered. The sun burns tense skin and she fans herself with an informational brochure from the plastic pockets mounted to the wall. 

A summer like the frosty can of lemon-lime soda she drops after having just purchased it from the Hall A vending machine. Barely contained, set to combust at the first purposeful touch. Bent. Entirely wrong. 

She watches as new counselors take over Sam’s sessions. Watches as regulars fall away. Watches as CNN pundits berate a different Steve Rogers than the Please, just call me Steve who drops by monthly with a fresh donation check signed by Tony Stark— a Steve allegedly semi-responsible for the destruction of Sokovia. Watches as the story shifts to one of hope in the glowing hands— and on the wings— of new recruits. 

He stands outside her door that August evening. Shadows under his eyes, a scar below his hairline. “I can explain,” is his greeting. 

The green of a freshly mowed lawn stains her white canvas sneakers. Humidity leaves a sheen of perspiration over the high points of her cheeks. One of the Mickey Mouse band-aids the VA jokingly stocks in the break room first aid kit pasted over her knee. He stores the sight away, something nice to hold onto. “Can’t you always?”

He follows her inside, she knows she shouldn’t allow it. 

He stands too close, she knows she shouldn’t allow that either. “It’s been two weeks. You’ve called maybe twice. You won’t tell me where you’ve been.”

And she believes him when he says, “I can’t tell you where I’ve been. I told you, some things are classified.” 

“Jake Tapper on CNN says you’re moving to New York,” her voice is as small as she feels under the warm, safe hands he holds her face— and every bit of her heart— in. 

There’s little anger in the eyes she watches him with, almost none in fractured words. And he’s fully aware he’s undeserving of that. Of her neverending kindness, that small smile hidden under the long-suffering frown she’d offered upon seeing him in the hall, the home she provides. 

But not the warm apartment with the gauzy drapes and mismatched dining chairs— it’s the heart she somehow hasn’t taken back. Neither through the Steve needs me to find someone explanation which is meager at best, nor the I’ll be back as soon as I can goodbye each time he gets even the faintest lead on the assassin who owes him a new steering wheel. 

He isn’t sure why she’s stuck around. Or why she’s allowed him to walk in and out this way. He sighs and gives her the most detailed explanation yet, “Things are a mess upstate. Steve, Natasha, Stark… They’re scrambling. Trying to get everyone who can help together to avoid another Sokovia.” 

“You could’ve asked my opinion.” She wishes she could sound more stern to even herself. But her voice is a plea and overhead lights do for her filled eyes what the sun does for the ocean. Blinding glitter. “I wouldn’t have said no.” 

“I wanted to tell you in person. Talk to you about it face to face.” 

Though he’s made his decision. Made it the second Steve asked. And she knows it.

Because this is the same Sam with ribbons, balm, and hope. The same Sam who knows there is no liberty to hold when it isn’t made available to everyone. The same Sam who does what’s right no matter the personal cost— and what’s right is helping, simply because he can. 

She forgets that, beyond the barren walls and slowly emptying shelves of his home, summer still scalds bare shoulders and lemonade made from concentrate is still being sold by five-year olds from plastic lawn tables. Too busy boxing up his life. Too tired from nights— and early mornings— marked by urgency and premature goodbyes. 

It isn’t like the first time. Tears punctuate laughter. He holds onto her tighter and thrusts into her harder. Leaves marks as if reminders of himself he knows will physically fade but hopes remain emotionally. Each kiss an attempt to imprint the shape of his lips on the brightness of the soul she’s already embroidered his every touch onto with sharp needles and gilded thread. 

On the eve of his departure, he’s a sinner in confessional. Tells her everything as he rolls them over, a delicate entangling of their fingers while the movement of his hips is anything but. “I love you,” is said against her lips, repeated when he hears her breath stall. But this time as he looks into her eyes. “I love you. I have for so long.” 

He finds himself unable to stop. Strung out on each moan and gasped breath of hers and how long it might be until he can hear it again. How long it might be until he can feel her tighten around him again. “You’re so good. My sweet, beautiful girl. I love you so much.” 

She can’t speak. Not around the knot which has tightened itself at the base of her throat. The knot which only lets his name through, only lets please’s and profanity wrapped in the voice of an angel through. 

She loses count of how many times he says it. Only remembers the different inflections each time. From revelatory and amazed, urging and pleading, to firm, as if it’s indisputable fact. And that, coupled with the way he angles himself to drag against her clit with every bit of push and pull, causes her to fall over the edge twice— nerves overshot and almost painfully sensitive. 

He wants a third. Needs to give her a third. Something to remember him by. So his fingers shoot down between them, thumb hooked between her legs. Even as she grasps his wrist. Her eyes shut, her back arched and head thrown back. 

“You have one more in you,” his voice is rough. Slurred syllables, dragging consonants. His free hand grabs her chin, an attempt to physically bring her gaze back to his. But her eyelids remain closed. “Look at me.”

Eyelashes with remnants of the day’s mascara flutter up toward her brows. Hazy. Yet through it all— through the sparks shooting up her spine as she comes for the third time and through the tears which seem to have found a home above her lashline throughout the past week— she sees him. She’s always seen him. She always wants to see him. 

So as he paints her pulsing walls in warm white ribbons and tells her he loves her for the nth time, she breathes, “I love you, too. Also have for a long time.” 

A beat of silence. Shallow breath held. And he smiles. Silly and warm, like winter in summer. “And you waited this long to tell me? Disgraceful, baby.” 

She rolls her eyes— well-meaning and fond. A giggle that makes him lose his mind. Thumbs brush feather-light over his cheekbones. “Come back to me in one piece and I’ll make it up to you. Over, and over, and over.” 

He makes her a promise that night. 

One he echoes the next morning and every subsequent night they manage to catch each other on the phone. The promise which becomes a goodbye whenever, after a day or two of personal leave as far as SHIELD and the Avengers are concerned, he’s set to take her heart back to New York with him.

“I’ll always come back to you.” 

---

[putas-in-suffering]

Mermaid

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 18+ older

Warnings: Language, rough sex (slapping/manhandling), unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, female ejaculation, some non-con elements, degradation (name calling), Dark/Dom Miguel, think Miguel and Emily’s fucked up vibe in that one scene...you know the one 😏

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Part 2. Miguel finds out about your tryst with Bishop and things take a dangerous turn.

A/N: Sucias! We got a present for you! We got Part 2 for our previously published Bishop fic Terms of Endearment. Check it out because it does tie in with this one. Also, it has Bishop smut. This has our Cartel Daddy hella mad and hella ready to destroy the pussy. Prepare yourselves because Miguel ain’t about to take it easy on you. Enjoy and share with your fellow sucias! Feedback is the preferred drug for our addiction and greatly appreciated 💖💖

*Read Part 3 here!

(Gif credit to @angels-reyes​​)

You flinched again when Miguel slammed his drink down, the sound angry and stern. He’d been in a bad mood since the moment you’d arrived nearly an hour ago. He’d called you earlier today and requested your presence at his home. He said he wanted to talk something over and insisted on having dinner prepared. You’d hesitated, flashes of letting Bishop Losa fuck you in a storage closet racing through your head. You could tell something was weighing heavy on Miguel’s mind, but you’d let it go and acquiesced to meeting him. Before Miguel was your employer, he was your best friend. And as much as you wanted to call it a night, you went anyway.

After the factory, you’d made more rounds, overseeing the operation and reporting back to Miguel via text. Once you’d gotten the stoic invitation for dinner, you’d raced home and showered the Mayans MC president off your skin. You ignored the pull to relive those memories as your fingers grazed your body, halting on the areas that Bishop had gripped so fiercely. There weren’t any visible markings, but you didn’t need to see it to know it had been there. You could still feel it.

You’d redressed for your impromptu dinner in a silk golden dress. The sleeves were long, the waist cinched, the skirt flowing over your hips and stopping around your ankles. There was a slit down the side, breaking up what would be a normally stylish conservative dress. You had yet to wear it. It was a gift from Miguel for your birthday a few months ago. You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt the need to wear it, but you’d be lying if you said guilt had no part in it. What you’d done was reckless and irresponsible, and if Miguel found out…well guilt would be the last thing you’d feel.

Another harsh clang of silverware pulled you from your thoughts. You winced as Miguel took a forceful bite of his steak, chewing with all the intensity of a caged pit bull. Beyond pleasantries, you hadn’t spoken to each other. The air was obviously tense, the mood uncomfortable. Miguel had purposefully made it that way. And you weren’t sure why.

“You look beautiful.”

The words made you pause mid-chew. Your eyes found Miguel’s staring back at you, his gaze somewhat softened but no less intense. He cleared his throat as he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, sipping from the amber liquid in his crystal glass.

“Uh, thank you.” You replied dumbly, still caught off guard by his choice in topic.

“The dress I bought you?”

You nodded, watching as he lent back in his seat to appraise you. You shifted awkwardly, feeling something simmering just beneath the surface. The house was empty, the staff dismissed for the night. The space was dimly lit. The reflection of the pool just beyond the glass doors was the only light outside. It should’ve been relaxing, romantic even, but the rigidity of the night was fast bleeding out and all over the white linen cloth that adorned the table.

“I have quite an eye. Fits you perfectly.” He continued on, swishing the whiskey in his glass.

“You do.”

“Why now?” He questioned, brow arched in your direction.

You straightened, the food on your plate long forgotten as you reached for your own glass. You swallowed the bitter liquid, the burn doing little to ease your frayed nerves. You weren’t afraid of Miguel, but you were afraid of the things he could do. You’d seen him at his worst and while you never expected to feel that kind of wrath directed at you, you couldn’t say it was impossible. You’d obviously done something to upset him. And you had an inkling of what that might be.

“Just felt right. Thought you’d like to see it.” You replied with a smile, hoping to convince both him and yourself.

Miguel returned the tight smile with his own, nodding as he adjusted the gold cuff links on his left wrist.

“I’ve known you a long time. Verdad?” He asked, the tone letting you know that it wasn’t a question that really needed an answer.

You did anyway.

“Yes.”

“And just like I’m sure you know me, I know you.”

Again it wasn’t something that needed verification, but you nodded in confirmation.

“I’ve let you run things on your own. I’ve let you manage without my supervision. I’ve entrusted you with delicate matters.”

Your breathing began to escalate with every word he spoke. He was calm, his demeanor almost peaceful as he met your eyes. His lips were quirked into a smirk, but you could see the hard ridge of his jaw beneath the well-groomed facial hair. He was clenching the muscle. And you knew from experience what that meant. He was actively trying to contain himself. Your gaze quickly shifted to his fingers, seeing that he was circling them on the tablecloth. Miguel had tells like everyone else and they were beaming in neon back at you. He was mad, no…livid.

“Miguel, what’s this about?” You dared to ask. You didn’t want to play this game with him. You’d seen it enacted out on many before you, none of it ever ending well for the person opposite Miguel Galindo. But you weren’t just some lowlife. You were his friend, practically his family. How dare he treat you like a traitor? You’d given your life to his business…to him.

“I’m not stupid, sirenita.” He bit back, intentionally using your childhood nickname. He usually said it with affection, but such was not the case this time. He was mocking the title, mocking you.

“And you think I am?” You retorted angrily, done playing nice.

“You must be to have let a man like Bishop Losa fuck you in my factory.” Miguel seethed, leaning across the table so that you could see the veins of his neck protruding from the crisp white collar of his shirt.

You’d been expecting the words, but shock seized you nonetheless. Having Miguel confront you about your sexual exploits made you feel childish and small. He glared at you with such disappointment that you could practically taste the sour flavor in your mouth.

“You must be fucking stupid to forget that I have every inch of that place bugged and under video surveillance. Even the storage closets.”

As much as you tried to fight it, you looked down in shame. He was right. You were stupid. In that moment you’d let lust fuel your decisions. But that didn’t mean that he got to disrespect you and treat you like a common whore. You’d seen plenty of his men come through the ranks and fuck on the job. And while it was a problem, it was also mostly laughed off. Men will be men bullshit. Fuck that.

“Who I fuck is none of your business.”

Miguel laughed, though it was obvious he found no humor in the situation. He scratched at his chin, his eyes darting everywhere except to you.

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“I know it is.” You said as you jutted your chin, no longer allowing him to reprimand you like some teenager.

He startled you by rising from his chair, slowly walking to you with measured steps. He said nothing at first as he perched on the edge of the table beside you, looking down at you. Just how he wanted it. He reached for you chin, but you jerked away. He wasn’t deterred. He repeated the action and this time you let him.

“You let him defile you. Let him make a mockery of me while you laughed. Your loyalty is now in question.” He whispered. His touch was gentle, but his words cut like a knife.  And they stung.

You jerked out of his grip, eyes wide with disbelief. Miguel had never talked to you in such a way. He’d never treated you so viciously. He’d always respected you. Always looked out for you. He took care of you, making sure you always had what you needed. He never once made you feel as low as you did in that moment. He may not get his hands dirty anymore, but he didn’t need to. His words were his weapons. They always had been. You’d just never been the one to take the hit before.

“You can’t be serious?” You asked, shaking your head.

He said nothing. The flames of fury began to rage hotter within you as he stared down his nose at you, looking at you in a way that he’d never done before.

“Fuck you.” You gritted out, narrowing your eyes up at him.

His lips lifted into a smirk, his eyes shifting to the neck of your dress. You shivered, feeling his gaze on your cleavage. It didn’t last long, but it was enough to make you react in an unexpected way. Your body felt warm with something other than anger. Your nipples hardened against the dainty fabric of your dress, not a gust of cool air to be found.

“You don’t think what you did was damaging to me? To this operation?” Miguel questioned, the irritation back in his words.

“So because I get fucked, your entire business is at stake? Is that what you’re telling me Miguel? Because it sounds like horseshit.” You stood from your chair and hovered in his face, smelling the alcohol on both of your breaths. “You’re mad because I let Bishop Losa fuck me and not you. This has nothing to do with business. You’re jealous.”

The air was sucked out of the room the moment the words left your mouth. You could see the minute they penetrated Miguel’s armor, see the deep rage making its way to the surface. He was tense and stiff, his eyes unrelenting and unforgiving as they stared straight through you.

You’d crossed a line, yet again. But you weren’t going to back down. You’d never been one to do so and you weren’t going to start now.

“Admit that to yourself, Miguel. Admit that’s what this is about.”

Silence.

He only continued to stare with that same void expression, looking as if he wanted to strangle you. His hands flexed as if testing the idea. You shivered again, though it was far from fear you were experiencing.

“I didn’t think so.” You taunted, a victorious smile making its way to your painted lips. You turned to leave, done with the conversation and your employer. If he wanted to act like a juvenile, then you’d treat him like one.

You made it two steps before a heavy hand gripped your elbow. You yelped at the force of the hold and the momentum used to spin you around. You nearly lost your footing, your heels making it difficult to balance. A pair of arms braced you, but they weren’t about to offer you comfort. They tightened around your midsection as they hauled you against the wall. Your head slammed with a brutal thud and you winced at the pain that radiated from your skull.

“Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting Miguel’s cold, murderous orbs. His fingertips dug into your upper arms while his chest heaved against yours with raggedy breaths. You matched his breathing, the fear most definitely taking hold now.

“You’ve forgotten who you work for…who owns you. I make the rules. I tell you when and where. I make you who you are. Me entiendes?” He didn’t wait for a response. “If I had known you’d rather whore yourself out I would’ve had you on your knees years ago.”

The slap echoed throughout the empty house. Your palm stung, the force of your strike still radiating through your arm. Miguel’s cheek was red, but he showed no other visible sign of being struck. His grip was still iron-clad on you, his breathing still rapid and manic.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snarled as you pushed against his chest, attempting to escape his clutches. He didn’t relent. You punched him, hitting him square in the jaw like he’d taught you years before. He released you instantly, cradling his face. You took the chance and ran for the door, but your dress and heels made it difficult to get any sort of real traction. Loud, foreboding footsteps boomed behind you as he caught up. He struck out and made contact with your arm, once again ensnaring you in his hold. You fought back this time, putting up a fight as he struggled to subdue you.

Another slap. Only this time it was you who was clutching their cheek.

“You fucking bastard.”

You charged at him, fists clenched and ready to damage his perfectly etched face. He reacted instantly, reaching for the back of your neck while he held your wrists together in the other. He was close. The both of you breathing in the other’s air. There was barely a sliver of space between your lips as you dared the other to make a move. You could feel the distinct outline of him against your stomach. He was hard. The notion should’ve sickened you. Little did he know, you’d been wet from the moment he’d called you a whore.

“If I wanted you, I could have you. Remember…I own you. Always have.” He declared cockily, eyes roaming your face, searching for any indication that you wanted him to put a stop to this.

You wouldn’t.

“I don’t belong to anyone. Least of all you.”

He licked his lips, a dot of blood already pooling to the surface where you’d hit him. The sight satisfied you.

“I feed you. I cloth you. I’ve made you everything that you are, sirenita. A whore playing dress up.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before he locked his lips against yours in a brutal kiss. You struggled against him, unwilling to surrender. You slipped against the marble floors as he backed you against one of the columns, pinning your body against his own. His lips attacked you, teeth gnashing and tongue probing for entrance. His beard scratched at your skin and left a sting in its wake. You realized he’d let go of your wrists. Your hands were tangled in his shirt. You’d meant to push him away, but you’d pulled him closer instead. Your nails dug into his pectorals until you were rewarded with a sharp hiss. He bit your lip in retaliation, the taste of iron landing on your tongue.

His hands ripped at your dress, the slit now torn wide to reveal the black lace you wore underneath. The neck of your dress fell open to expose your braless breasts to his assault. He wasted no time in taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking so hard that you whimpered and jerked away. You tugged at the roots of his thick hair, pulling him from your chest. He was still bent down, his neck craned so that he had to look up at you. You admired the change in position, feeling a rush of desire at the sight of him hungry and dazed for you.

You took the opportunity to switch positions, swinging him around so that he was now trapped between you and the wall. Your hands went to the buckle of his belt and began to release him from the confines of his designer slacks. Your mouth watered as his cock sprang forward. It was thick and heavy; hot and throbbing in time with your pulse. You made sure he kept his eyes on you as you licked your palm, coating it in saliva. He clenched his jaw as he watched you, releasing a strangled moan when you wrapped your hand around him. He began to succumb to you, his body overwrought with the need to release.

“Who’s the whore now?” You provoked, tightening your hand around him. He cursed and thrust his hips in response, but he was far from letting you win.

He grasped your chin, bringing your face so close to his that you could see the outline of his blown wide pupils against the near black of his irises.

“I’m going to fill that mouth so full of cum that you’ll be tasting me for a fucking week.”

You swallowed and clenched your thighs, his words making your walls contract in tantalizing tremors. You wanted that. You wanted all of that and more.

“You can deny it all you want, but I know…I’ve always known. That pussy is mine. It belongs to the Galindo cartel.” His hand wandered down and over your breasts, sweeping under the band of lace that concealed you from view. He found your clit and teased it, encouraging the overflow of your arousal that was sure to come. “And it gets wet at the thought of me fucking you until you can’t walk. Right?”

You bit your lip and gasped as he entered you, massaging the wet heat of your walls with expert precision.

“Answer me.” He demanded, finger sliding further into your depths.

“Fuck you.”

You were working hard to keep the effect of his touch off your face. You remained impassive and cold, but the further he explored, the closer he brought you to that proverbial edge.

“Oh, you will…”

In a flash, you were hauled into his arms and pushed into the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. He ripped at your panties with one hand, the ruined fabric falling away from your body to land in a heap on the floor. The lace had rubbed harshly at your skin as he tore it away, but the feeling was eclipsed by the harsh thrust of his cock into your unsuspecting body. The action caught you off guard, pulling a breathless curse from your lips. Your body tightened and twisted around him and his cock, trying to accommodate the intruder.

“I knew you’d be tight.” He confessed into your neck as he began to thrust. His hips met yours in a ruthless pattern, merciless and cruel. You could only hold on as he took from you, pushing so deep that he hit the natural barrier within you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You chanted as every line and ridge of his cock grazed beautifully so against your walls. Your spine twisted in both pain and pleasure, lights already dancing behind your lids. You tangled your fingers into his hair, scraping your nails against his scalp. He shuddered, the sensation traveling through his body and into your own.

He moved a second later, carrying you from the wall to the table you’d both been seated at only moments before. His motions were fast and unhinged, uncaring for you comfort as he slipped from your grasp. You both hissed, but didn’t have a chance to relish the emptiness as he turned you around, arching your ass into position.

“Bend over.”

You practically fell face first into the table as he pushed your head down. Your arms caught you just in time as you spread your legs and welcomed him between them. He shoved your dress up and landed a sharp slap to your right ass cheek, the sting reverberating through your lower half. You flinched and threw him a withering glare over your shoulder. His hands spread you, his cock nestled between your folds as he readied to enter you once again. Your thighs were slick, your walls now primed enough for him to slide uninhibited. He was taking without asking, without remorse, and you ate it up, daring him to give you more.

You moaned at the same time he grunted, his cock now back inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut against the onslaught of euphoria, feeling the web of climax begin to weave itself around you. You pulled at the tablecloth beneath you as Miguel thrust deep, his hips flush with yours as he penetrated your fucking soul. You could feel his eyes burning into you, no doubt  taking extreme pleasure in seeing you be such a slut for his cock.

“Are you going to cum?” He ground out, hands still holding your ass apart to watch.

“Yes…”

“Do it now.”

You whined as he began assailing your clit with his finger, rubbing so hard that you felt your eyes cross in your skull. The feeling was foreign, more powerful and unexplored. You shied away from it, unwilling to let go.

“Don’t fight it.” Miguel ordered, feeling your body flinch away. He only went faster and harder, intent on making you come undone.

You had no choice. You gave yourself over to it, letting him pull your orgasm from the depths and send it to the surface. You readied for the inevitable and cried out when your body began to convulse. You were only mildly aware of the gush of liquid that left your body as you were flung into space and launched into a chamber of weightlessness. Miguel’s praises and groans tickled your skin as he bathed himself in your release. He pulled his cock from your depths and let you soak him as he watched in rapt fascination.

“Fuck, just like that…” He said in awe, his cock once again sliding along your folds as your pussy  continued to contract against him.

Your face was pressed into the table, your ass still in the air and presented like some kind of prize. You panted with exertion as your limbs became lethargic and sated with the buzz of desire. It felt like an hour had passed, but in reality it’d only been seconds.

You were flipped onto your back, the whiplash making you dizzy. Plates and glasses toppled to the pristine floor as Miguel pried your legs open and resumed fucking you with wild abandon. Your eyes rolled and your toes curled as he fucked you through your post-coitus high. You were moving with every brute thrust, your body shifting up the table. You caressed your breasts as he looked on, growling in approval. His hair was tousled, his lip bleeding with his shirt untucked and pants undone. He’d never looked sexier.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He breathed as he doubled his efforts. He ravaged your body with a new ferocious energy, pulling away when the feeling became too much. He wrapped his hand around himself and pulled at your ankle with the other. “On your knees.”

You nearly slid off the table, your heels barely touching the ground before he was pushing you to kneel. You did as he wanted, meeting his devious stare with a bat of your lashes.

“Open your mouth.”

You complied, sticking out your tongue as he jerked himself off. The head of his cock released streams of thick, white cum seamlessly onto your awaiting tongue. He aimed it perfectly, ensuring it all ended up in your mouth and nowhere else. You could feel it already sliding down your throat as you waited for him to finish.

“Swallow it.”

He held your chin, keeping your mouth closed and running his thumb over your lips. You obeyed and swallowed down every drop, savoring the decadence. He looked down at you with a worshipful eye, an expression that was usually reserved for your professional accomplishments. You relished it, just as you did all the times before.

Miguel tucked himself back into his pants and then reached a hand out to you. You accepted his help and stood, albeit on shaky legs. You clutched the front of your dress together, the thing nearly shredded on your frame. You waited for him to say something, but he only turned and walked to the kitchen counter where his phone sat. He picked it up and walked back to you, his attention focused on the digital screen at his fingertips.

“I know everything that happens within my operation. Sometimes people have to be reminded.” He was back to being calm, not an ounce of irritation left on his handsome features. “I’ve done that with you. And now I’ll do that with Bishop.”

Your blood ran cold when he showed you the screen of his phone. Footage of what just transpired between you two played out, a security timestamp at the bottom of the screen making you aware that this was the real deal. Every moment, every obscene action and insult was captured for anyone to see. Humiliation rushed through you.

“I’m the only one that has access to this. But by tomorrow morning Bishop Losa will receive a clip of this footage. A message that he’s touched what’s mine and to never do so again.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped towards you. You remained unmoving, no energy left to fight with Goliath. He caressed your cheek gently, the patronizing tone now back in his voice.

“This is part of your punishment. Take it like I know you can. Okay?” He prompted. His gentleness was soothing, but a farce. He’d made his point and now you had to fall in line. You were just a solider, taking orders from the commander. And he was reminding you of that.

“Sirenita,” He called, the affection that’d been missing the last time he’d used the name now unmistakable.

You met his eyes. They were back to the mahogany color you’d grown to love. The darkness no longer shrouding him. He cradled your cheek, noting the way you winced when he touched the still tender flesh.

“Say okay.”

“Okay.” You finally replied, defeat coating the word.

“I’ll get this cleaned up tomorrow.” He gestured to the mess behind you, the dining table looking as if a bull raged through. “It’s late. Go upstairs and shower. I’ll be up in a bit.”

You went to refuse, but he stopped you with a kiss. You responded back eagerly, tangling your tongue with his and letting him taste himself. By the time he pulled away, you were both breathing heavily, hearts beating wildly.

“Things are going to be different. You’ll be with me for a while. No more solo missions.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show at his words. You were being demoted. From right hand to whore. You now belonged to Miguel in the one way you said you never would. You’d  refused him for so long because you knew the power he held over you…knew the type of life he could give you. It’d be everything you’d wanted and more. Addicting. Luxurious. Lawless. You’d get so lost in him that you’d lose yourself. You knew it. But you’d made a mistake and you had to repent. And you’d do so willingly.

You’d go from whore to housewife in an instant. You’d be his Queen before long…back to running things. Only this time you’d do so with your legs wide and your mouth open. If Miguel wanted a cartel whore, then he’d get one.

[ill-skillsgard]

Good Manners - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ smut/mentions of cheating/mature themes/strong language/spousal conflict. **Dominance, some bum stuff and mega fluff in this part**

Note: I kind of hate to say this, but I think I will retire HxM after a couple more parts. I’ll tie it up nicely, and answer all the burning questions before I do so, but I just wanted to warn you guys now instead of springing it on you without notice. I just have so many projects I want to get underway and tying up some stories is necessary for me to direct my focus. Don’t hate me! I know we’ve had a lot of fun with this series, but I see it winding down, and I hope you understand! 

Read past Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost

Henry threw open the door, taking long strides as he shed his jacket, dropped his keys on the kitchen island and zipped through to the living room where he found her channel-surfing in her pyjamas. From the corner of her eye, the tall man's sudden appearance startled a gasp from her.

"Henry! I didn't expect you home so quickly. How did it go?" She said, sitting up straight. 

"It doesn't matter," he muttered.

Henry swept her off the couch, attacking her mouth with his to stifle any further questioning. Fresh with anger and the residual adrenaline of finally admitting he had taken a mistress during the downfall of his marriage, Henry had grown tired of explaining himself. He was hungry and eager to display his dominance—the dominance that evaporated in Mary's shadow no longer.

When he was with her—his true love—there was nothing he wasn't allowed to do, no act she forbade. If he wanted to take her hard and fast, she welcomed the rush. If he wished to have her take care of him, that was also permitted. Tonight he wanted nothing more than to make her moan and squeal, proving to himself that he wasn't a pawn in a grand-scale game of manipulation. Henry was powerful, and it had been too long since he acknowledged his prowess. 

"Oh my gosh, Henry. Where is this all coming from?" She asked, breathless as Henry toted her to the bedroom and tossed her onto the king-sized bed.

"Quiet. No more questions," Henry said as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the fabric from underneath his belted trousers. "Tonight, you're mine. Your body is mine to do with what I please. 

"Yes, sir." 

He took hold of her chin, smiling. "Oh, yes. That's exactly what I want to hear. Yes, sir. More, sir. Harder, sir. And anything I ask for, you'll provide."

She nodded as he shed his undershirt and undid his belt. The glint of the buckle in the light caught her eye, and Henry noticed the way she squirmed and bit her lip. He looked down at the leather in his hand, and instead of discarding it like he usually would, he folded it in half, snapping the material together with a crack. She flinched. 

"What? Does the thought of getting whipped with my belt make your pussy wet?" He asked. 

"Yes, Mister Deaver, sir," she said, turning about and bending over. 

"I bet everything I do makes that pussy wet."

She smiled, wiggling her hips until Henry climbed onto the bed and pulled her bottoms up, cheeks peeking out from under the flimsy material. Henry tapped one cheek and then the other with the folded belt, a light warning of undeserved but wanted punishment.

While Henry teased her skin, she thought about what might have happened with Mary to set him off. He wasn't the type to take control without significant reason. The first time Henry had dominated her had been in his office after a day of training and mutual teasing. She remembered it clearly; everyone had gone home, leaving the floor empty. Yet even as high up as they were, she got off on the thought of someone seeing them through the window, an intern walking in to ask Henry a question, or an after-hours janitor happening upon them in the throes of ecstasy. 

Henry wedged the material of her bottoms even higher, leaning over to first kiss the area he meant to slap. Then he raised the belt and whipped her. It wasn't a harsh blow. He could have hit much harder, but she still mewled and thanked Henry. 

"Good manners," Henry praised, yanking the bottoms down around her knees. "And I see no panties. Only bad girls forget to put on their panties. Are you a bad girl?"

"Yes, sir. But I want to be a good girl for you," she said.

"You're well on your way, darling. Hold still."

She yelped from the firm smack of the leather across her bottom. An angry red welt rose, spanning both cheeks. Even Henry winced as he ran his hand over the reddening mark, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin.

"That was a good one," he said, chuckling.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered.

Henry dropped the belt and got on his knees before the edge of the bed. Framing her rear, he licked one half of the most recent strip of buzzing punishment, and then the other, providing cooling relief with his saliva. He pulled back, simpering and admiring the fullness of her ass, the disciplinary marks and the moan that left her when he trailed his tongue close to her openings.

"Do you remember the first night I fucked you? How much fun we had at the bar before I invited you up? Gosh... It took me so many drinks to find the balls to ask you. I thought I'd be too drunk to perform when I finally got you naked. But you looked so hot that night. Even in your little server's uniform, the white button-up blouse... Your hair all twisted up in a bun where you used to stick your pencil. I had already imagined fucking you so many times before then, too."

Henry kissed the crease between thigh and cheek, then gave her a satisfying smack. Grabbing her thigh, he guided her legs open, and her pussy came into view, but he wasn't ready to touch her quite yet.

"Even though I wanted things to work out with my wife, every morning I saw you, I wished I'd gotten the divorce underway so I could pull you onto my lap and squeeze all your beautiful curves. Some nights I'd argue with her, then come into that café just to get a glimpse of a woman who smiled every time she saw me. Such a little thing shouldn't have been so erotic, but it was, and God, I just wanted you so bad. I even masturbated to the thought of taking you at that bar long before you and I ever hooked up."

Henry's admissions made her cheeks turn pink, and her heart raced. She dropped her tailbone, encouraging him to touch her, but he only slid his hand up and down her ass, petting her while he spoke.

"Let me ask you something, gorgeous... Did you ever think about fucking me?"

She scoffed, not from embarrassment but from the absurdity of Henry not realizing how much she flirted with him during the times they had been strangers. "Of course, I did. How could I not? You always came in looking so handsome. I thought you were a model. And you were the kindest gentleman I'd ever met. I wanted to serve you much more than just coffee and scones," she giggled.

"Really?" He asked, kissing the small of her back as he squeezed her cheeks again.

"Yes, sir. Even though I knew you were married, I still thought of having those big, strong hands touching my body."

Henry chuckled under his breath. "And what else?"

She blushed. "Well, sir... I often wondered if you were as nice as you looked. Most of the men who dressed like you were entitled, rude... But you always smiled at me, and I couldn't help wanting to kiss you. I wanted to climb on your lap in the middle of that café and ride your cock. Sometimes, I even snuck away just to touch myself a little after you came in. I'd watch your hand gripping your pen, watch you purse your lips when you were lost in thought. Once, I even dropped something on the floor near you just so I could bend down and hope you were staring at me."

"Oh, that's naughty. Have you always been such a naughty girl?" Henry asked.

"Yes, sir. I think so. But you help bring it out of me," she said.

"I do, do I? I make you want to be bad?"

She nodded her head. "Yes, Mister Deaver. Can I tell you something else?"

Henry purred as he popped the button of his pressed trousers and pushed them down his thighs, readying himself to tease her even more. "You may."

"I had a feeling you were married. That first night, after you asked me to go upstairs with you to your room... You weren't wearing your ring, but I saw it many times before. I knew you must have had a wife, but I chose to play dumb because I wanted your cock so badly. It didn't even matter to me. I thought we'd just fuck once to get it out of our systems... But you were so amazing. I knew right after that I'd come back for more. I wanted to be mad at you for being a bad man, but I couldn't help myself."

Henry's groin roiled with excitement, blood shooting down to harden him. He disrobed and climbed onto the bed behind her, goading her pussy with the head of his swollen cock. "There's no other pussy in this world I'd ever want to be inside, baby. You're so perfect for me. My nasty little girl."

Playing confessions helped ease away the panic gripping Henry's heart. The reworked settlement and Mary's promise to drain him meant nothing as he pushed inside of her. The private investigator—if what Mary said was true—following them around to catch them in a lover's embrace only strengthened his need for her. He wanted to be seen touching her, kissing her. Henry looked down at the woman groaning from his penetration and bristled with affection. 

"Oh, Mister Deaver, your cock feels so good inside me," she languished.

"Fuck, I love you, baby. I love your tight little pussy. Your beautiful face. This gorgeous body. Mm, I'll never get enough of you. My perfect girl."

She bent her spine, pressing into his hips until she completely enveloped him. Henry clutched her thighs and began pumping into her, picking up speed until she whined from the harsh punctures.

He ground his teeth, unable to stifle his pleasure. "Fuck, I love your cunt baby. Love when it makes my cock all soaking wet. It's so much tighter than hers. You're absolutely perfect."

"Thank you, sir," she murmured.

Henry pressed his chest to her back, snaking his arm around her collarbone to bring her close. "You belong to me. You're all mine. This pussy right here? This sweet little hole belongs to me. Only me."

Each thrust knocked a bit of air from her lungs until she gasped. Henry touched her clit with two fingers, rubbing it sparingly as he pinched her nipples with the other hand.

"I fucking love you, baby. You know that? Not an hour goes by, I don't think of being with you, being inside you... I want you forever."

"I'm yours," she said.

"Do you love me?" He asked.

His strong pulses knocked the words out of her until he sat back on his haunches, bringing her with him to stir his hips. She moaned from the change in sensation.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Yeah? You really do?"

"Yes, Henry. I love you more than anything."

His hand squeezed gently around her neck as he leaned in close. "That's good, baby. I'll never tire of hearing you say that."

She smiled as he touched her clit again. His body pressing against hers made her feel small, chest and long arms enveloping her top half as he worked himself inside. Henry must have felt powerful that day, for he pulled out and toppled her onto her back, knocking her legs apart to hone in on her slick opening. He towered above, throwing her legs over his shoulders and driving her into the bed with his entire weight.

"Fuck, that pussy is so goddamn wet for me," Henry said with a gasp. "Can't believe all that delicious pussy juice belongs to me."

"Mm, can I taste it?" She asked.

Henry cocked his head as he continued slamming into her. "What?"

"Pull out and fuck my throat."

It took Henry a moment to reconcile with her request. Any other day, he might deny her, or cower from the idea of shoving his cock in her mouth. But today was different. She wanted him in all the ways Mary never did. The delight in her eyes still surprised him, and he gave her what she wanted because it was what he wanted, despite all the times he'd fashioned himself as too gallant. Too long were his intimate perversions denied that when he met her, he couldn't believe she languished in being treated like a plaything. 

As he used her mouth and moaned from the swirling of her tongue, her hands travelled up his thighs and didn't stop until she gripped his cheeks. The pad of her thumb met the expanse of skin underneath his balls, and the sweet pressure caused a stirring of sensation that was still foreign to him. He shuddered, dropping his chin to find her staring up at him with an evil glint in her eyes. Henry nodded.

"Oh, fuck yes, I love it when you do that."

His encouragement lit a fire beneath her. All this time, she assumed Henry only humoured her when she wanted to play extra dirty and touch his ass, but he secretly loved the feeling. The tension against his prostate ignited hundreds of dormant nerves that lit the way toward a powerful orgasm. Henry recalled the first time he allowed her to finger him, how nervous he'd been and how intense the sensation felt when she penetrated him.

Careful not to intrude too hard or too fast, she circled his hole a few times, assessing by the magnitude of his moans it was okay to press a little further. If her mouth weren't full of his cock, she'd ask, but Henry didn't flinch or whine the way he had the first time. 

He opened his legs wider and sat back on the digit teasing his entrance with a low, lustful groan.

"God, yes, baby, finger my fucking asshole while I fuck your throat. That's what I like."

The duelling pleasures had Henry bucking fast and coming faster. He didn't want the bliss to end, but her expert fingers and well-versed tongue pushed him to the edge and didn't stop there. Henry unsheathed his cock from her throat and spilled an impressive amount of cum over her chest. She even pulled him back in to drink the lazier stream of fluid that followed the many bursts that had him writhing and singing his pleasure.

"Jesus... You're such a dirty girl. I love it. Fuck, I love watching you lick up all my cum." Henry collapsed beside her, then gasped when he realized she hadn't orgasmed. "Oh, fuck! I almost forgot about you."

"It's all right, darling. How about you just rest and you can do me later? You look like you need a break."

Henry wanted to decline, but she was right. His ears rang, and his fingers and toes were numb from the recent climax. All he wanted was to hold her close and kiss her face while he came down.

"That was so good. You're amazing," Henry murmured.

"Feel better now?" She asked.

"So much better," he sighed. "But I have a question I need you to answer before we do anything else."

She propped her head up, disregarding the stickiness still dripping down her chest. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

Henry took in a long, steadying breath. He blinked a few times until the haze in his vision subsided, then looked at her with seriousness burning in his mismatched eyes. "When we finalize this divorce, and I'm no longer married to that evil fucking succubus of a woman... Would you marry me?"

"What?" She gasped. "Henry! You can't be serious."

"I am serious. Very serious."

"You want to get hitched right away?"

"Baby... I've known for a long time that I want to marry you. It just seemed so... distant, impossible. Like it would never happen. But I promise, if you marry me, I'll be the best husband ever."

She hugged him close, squealing into his neck. "I know! I know you'd be the best husband."

"The moment I walk out of the court, I want to marry you. It's not enough to just be your boyfriend. I want to put a ring on your finger and have a wedding and go on a honeymoon. I want it all. Ever since I was young, I wanted to be a husband and—"

Henry bit his lip. She pulled back and searched his eyes, still gripping him tightly.

"And?" She pressed.

"A father. I want to be a dad so badly."

Tears sprung in the corner of her eyes. When he saw the watery pools reflecting him, a similar wave of emotions overtook him. She blinked, and two streams fell down her cheeks. Henry pulled her close, kissing her as his own tears fell. When he pulled back, she was smiling.

"Is that okay? Is that... too much?" Henry asked, voice trembling.

She shook her head. "It's not too much, Henry. I love you. God, I love you more than anything. You deserve to be happy. And of course, I'd marry you. I want nothing more than to be a good wife to you."

"Really?" He asked as more joyful tears washed out his vision.

"Yes!"

"That's wonderful," he whispered, pulling her close again. 

She rested her cheek on his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart as he sniffled and wiped the tears from his face. 

"Henry?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I know you’ll be an amazing father."