#think I'll have stuff for a while and then I'll do a lil break while I post those prompt fics from a couple months back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugawhaaa · 1 month

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Can I request a yeosang x reader fic where she's been sexually active before but never been eaten out and not with someone big like Yeosang. So she asks Yeosang what oral feels like or a big cock feels like and he shows her instead. Accidentally making her squirter which she didn't know what a think while he fucks her

YEOSANG ONE-SHOT

☆~TONGUE TWISTER~☆

Warnings:: SMUT

Pairing:: soft!dom!yeosang x sub!fem!reader

Genre:: oral (fem) fingering, praise, teasing, edging, squirting (2x) , lil bit of a size kink, creampie

W/C:: 3,017

A/N:: I tweaked a few things from the request but I hope you still enjoy it 🙏 also I think I am officially finished of my break <3 I probably won't be posting as consistently as I used to be I'm back 💪

🎧::

Yeosang knew that you were new to all this sexual stuff but he didn't really know how inexperienced or experienced you were. He knew that he was your first and he “took” your virginity. He didn't want to push you into other things too early like bdsm or even implying sex toys into your time together. He didn't know what your previous lovers might have done with you either. Anything revolving around oral he never knew if you had received or given it before.

It had been a few months since you and Yeosang had sex for the first time. He was patiently waiting, not wanting to push you or rush you into things again but he felt a little worried when it got to about four months.

When you crawled into bed Yeosang dragged you closer to him. You were a little surprised but assumed he just wants cuddles. You snuggled into his chest as he draped an arm over your body. “Hey baby. I wanted to talk to you about something,” Yeosang says softly, trying not to sound intimidating.

“Sure baby, what's up?” You tilt your head and he thinks for a moment.

“When we had sex, did you enjoy it?” The question catches you off guard. You were expecting something way less deep than that.

“Of course,” you chuckle before meeting his gaze, looking up into his eyes. “Why? Is there something going on?” You rub his chest and he laughs softly.

“No, no, darling. I was just making sure since you haven't asked to try it again,” he pats your head with a laugh before kissing your forehead.

“Oh…I was waiting for you to say something,” you chuckle awkwardly and feel a thick tension growing in the room. “Why bring this up now though?”

“I've just been thinking,” he says before rolling his tongue around the inside of his bottom lip. “You were a virgin before we met, right?” He confirms and you nod. “And I was wondering if you've ever experienced…” he pauses as he rolls circles on your forearm. “Oral?” He finishes his sentence and you feel your heart skip.

In truth, you never experienced someone's mouth on you before. You always dreamed about getting eaten out and how it would feel to have someone's tongue inside you, even if it was only the tip of their tongue.

“Well…I haven't,” you pause and bite your lip, waiting for his response. You can tell just from his body language that he wants to eat you out so bad right now. He would do it in a heartbeat but he needs you to say it.

“Would you like to try it?” He looks at you eagerly and you blush. You nod softly and he smirks before running his finger along your chin. “I need to hear your words baby. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to eat me out,” you look directly at him as you speak and he bites his lip.

“That's exactly what I wanted to hear my love,” he runs his hands down your body before shifting you so you lay on your back. “Just relax baby, I'll take good care of you,” he kisses your cheek softly before roaming his hands under your shirt, getting you all riled up. He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. He creeps his tongue into your mouth and circles his tongue around yours, flipping it as he does so.

You can't help but moan into the kiss. It was apparent he was experienced with his tongue and that was going to be the thing to make you break for him. He curled his tongue into yours and you whimpered softly. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, his hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. “Does that feel good?” He runs his opposite hand over your breast as he speaks. You nod with a smile.

“It feels strange but so good,” you chuckle and he smiles. He holds the side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he instructs in a low but calm voice. You do as he says parting your lips and opening your mouth slightly. “Stick out your tongue a little,” he rubs your temple as he speaks. As you poke your tongue out he slides his tongue into your mouth without touching your lips together. He runs his tongue over yours and you moan softly. He circles his tongue around yours again and you feel the heat growing between your legs.

You couldn't wait for him to do that to your clit. To your folds. To the inside of your walls. How much longer can you hold out before begging for him. He smirks before pulling back again. “Is my little doll eager?” He chuckles as he points out you rubbing your thighs together. You blush and look away. “It's okay baby, you can be greedy,” he leans down again and begins to lick along your jaw before kissing it. He sits back and pulls your shirt off to reveal your bare torso to him. He makes his way down to your breasts with little kisses and licks that make you arch your back.

Finally he reaches your tits and begins to suck and circle his tongue around your sensitive buds.

“Oh yes~” you moan softly and tangle your fingers into his hair. He chuckles against your soft skin as he pulls on your sensitive skin. The sensation was slightly painful but it had a strange tingle to it afterwards. His lips separate from your skin and he smiles.

“That feel good, baby? You comfortable?” He runs his hands down your torso as he speaks. You nod with a satisfied hum and he smiles. “Good,” he says before leaning back down to the other nipple, relentlessly attacking it as well. You let out a soft moan as he twirls his tongue around your nipple, using his flexible tongue ability to make you quiver.

“Please yeosang, I can't wait any longer,” you whine and he chuckles, popping his lips off of your bud.

“Alright, alright, I suppose I've teased you enough,” he chuckles as he leans back to take off your pants on panties. He moves slowly and gently, kissing you in between movements. “How wet are you hm?” He runs his thumb down your folds and you moan softly. His thumb glides swiftly and effortlessly. It was like you had put a whole bottle of lube on your folds. He can't help but chuckle as he sees your soaked state. “Oh my she is desperate, aren't you?” He says before pressing on your clit. You moan and bite your lip.

He sits up again and pulls his shirt off before situating himself just above your thighs. “Spread your legs baby,” you do as he asks instantly, not wanting to waste time. He blows softly on your clit and you whimper, clenching the bed sheets in your hand. “Relax baby,” he runs his fingers down your folds again. After what felt like an eternity he parted his lips, his tongue poking out as he creeped closer to your burning, aching core. You feel one last breath on your clit before feeling his tongue press against it.

His tongue was warm compared to the cold air he'd been blowing on you and the texture was just out of this world. It was like running the inside of a warm fruit on your folds. You can't hold back your gasps of amazement as he begins to flick his tongue up and down your core. Right from your clit down to your entrance. He didn't press through your folds yet, wanting to take things slow, but him flicking your clit was enough to make you squirm.

He smirks against you before beginning to suck on your sensitive skin and clit. Your legs threatened to close around him as he sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue. You grab a fistful of his hair and push your hips into his face slightly. He grabs the back of your thighs, allowing him to move more with more pressure and your legs jerk. He massages your thighs, silently telling you to relax. You feel him move back a bit before pouring out some spit onto your folds.

He spreads it around with his tongue, moving in flipping circles. Everytime your body tried to squirm away from his tongue his head would follow, never separating his tongue and lips from your body.

“Yeosang,” you moan softly as you toss your head back. He looks up at you, acknowledging the fact you said his name. He hummed softly against your folds as a response and you look down at him. “Please don't stop,” you whimper and he smirks before backing up to catch his breath.

“Wasn't planning on it,” he leans back down. He continues to roll his tongue over your folds. He then pokes his tongue at your entrance, the tip of his tongue slipping in as he rolls his tongue in a circle. You arch your back into his face and he holds you to his face. He goes back up to your clit, then tour folds, before slipping his tongue back inside you.

He continued this process before moving his head back and forth to and extra stimulation. He then eases one of his fingers inside you, curling it slowly. You moan uncontrollably as he pumps his finger into you and before you know it you feel the knot building in your stomach and as your body squirms Yeosang doesn't let you go. Every time your hips jerk around Yeosang follows you resulting in your orgasm approaching faster than expected but Yeosang doesn't stop.

Your legs reflexively lock around his head as your body shudders, your release pouring out of you into his lips. Yeosang continues pumping his finger into you, slowly adding another, as he flicks your clit. Something about the way he moved his tongue around your clit and to your folds made you want to scream in pleasure yet you couldn't breathe because the pleasure was that overwhelming. “Y-Yeosang,” you stutter out as a way to warn him of this orgasm. It felt different though. Like something more was about to be released and almost like…peeing?

No way were you going to pee, no that would be humiliating! Peeing on your boyfriend's face while receiving oral for the first time!? But you couldn't hold whatever this was in. It was uncontrollable and before you knew it the sound of liquid spraying out of you and hitting the floor filled your ears but it felt so fucking good. Your whole body was tingling in pure bliss and you couldn't hold back a smile as you laid there.

When you opened your eyes again you realized what had happened. Yeosangs face was quite literally, drenched. The hair around his face was wet and some of it even stuck to the sides of his face. Your fluids dripped down his chin and neck and you felt your head spin. This was a sight that you would never get tired of.

“So how was that?” He smirks before standing up. You were surprised by his abrupt urge to leave but he only grabbed a cloth to wipe his face. You lazily watched him as he dried himself off and looked at the liquid that coated his shirt, gluing it to his chest. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. “Do you want me to dry you off too?” He asks, gesturing the cloth to you and you shake your head. He smiles and sets the cloth down.

He lays next to you and props himself up with his elbow, admiring you. He runs his hand down your arm softly as he looks at you. “That was amazing baby,” he leans in and kisses your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He moves to caress your chest gently.

“I can't even describe it. Tired but full of this buzzing energy,” you explain. “There was just so much at once it feels like a blur,” you sigh happily and turn to him.

“Are you done for the night?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb and you turn to loom at him.

“Not yet,” you smile and roll closer to him. He licks his lips before nibbling on his lower lip.

“You're so hot baby,” he chuckles softly under his breath. He quickly undoes his pants and throws everything somewhere on the floor. “Come here my love,” he pulls you closer to him before beginning to bite your neck, claiming you. “How do you want me to fuck you this time?” He says with a slight growl. It was obvious he was beginning to get more comfortable with you in the sexual sense. “Want me to bend you over~? Or fuck you missionary so you can stare right into my eyes as I make you cum,” he growls between kisses and you whimper. “Or do you wanna try something new~?” His proposal sounded intriguing but were you ready for something like that? There was no rush but…

“I want you to fuck me however you want,” you blush as you speak, the words tasting nastier than you expected.

“Oh~? You're so eager baby, I love you,” he kisses your neck one last time before pulling away from you. “I want to make sure you're comfortable so tell me to stop at any point okay?” He smiles as he sits up. You nod and follow as he directs you. “Lay on your stomach and spread your legs. Rest on your knees a bit as well to hold your bum up a bit,” he encourages by holding you up by your waist. You blush at the feeling of his fingertips drawing so close to your heat. You do as he says and hold yourself up. “Look at you, being such a good girl,” he whispers in your ear and you feel goosebumps rise along your skin.

He then comes around behind you probing his tip at your entrance. “We'll go slow, tell me if you're uncomfortable,” he reminds you as he runs his cock along your folds, collecting your fluids.

“Yeah, I will,” you reply as you turn to watch him.

“Alright, here we go,” he aligns himself up accordingly before pushing in. You felt your eyes roll back as he filled you up, inching inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moan and grab the pillow, digging your nails into the soft fabric. Yeosang brings his hand up to your face, tucking back your hair and strumming his fingers through the strands.

“You're doing so good baby,” he leans down, resting his lower body on yours. Yeosang finally reaches the bottom of your pussy and rests there, letting you adjust to him. He gently rests his body on top of yours, his head resting on your shoulder. He whispers reassuring words and praise into your ear as you adjust to him.

“You can move now,” you say softly and he smiles before doing as you said. He lifts his hips before pushing back in with a gentle thrust. You moan softly at the feeling. You could feel him stretching you out and it was an addicting feeling.

“Relax baby,” he said as he rubs your waist softly, still gently thrusting. “You're doing so good,” he says before kissing your neck softly. The sound of your body's clapping against each other echoed in the room as he continuously hit your A-Spot. Your moans increase in volume and pace as he kisses your neck.

You drop your head down into the pillow, burying your face in the silky fabric as Yeosang thrusts harder. “How are you feeling baby?” He speaks in a low rasp next to your ear.

“Amazing,” you stutter out and he smirks.

“You like being stretched out by me?” He says in a teasing tone that makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Yes,” you say between moans and whimpers. He begins to move faster, thrusting in and out of you so quickly that you can't moan for every thrust, it was all so fast. “Y-Yeosang I'm close,” you managed to croak out as he pounded into you.

“Me too baby,” he sits up a little to thrust as fast as he can, making you squeal. “You're so tight, I can't wait to see you cum again,” he groans as he holds himself up. As he growls dirty words you feel yourself coming undone, unraveling before him. Your body shakes softly as you clench the pillow like your life depends on it. With one last cry of his name you empty out beneath him. Yeosang thrusts a few more times before slamming into you, pouring his seed into you.

He thrusts into you harshly for each surge of cum, filling you up entirely. Your body relaxes as the waves settle. Yeosang lays on top of you, trying to hold himself up as much as he can so he doesn't hurt you but after that peak he just reached he was struggling. “You're so beautiful, my baby,” he whispers in your ear as he rubs your back softly. “I love you,” he pants out and you smile.

“I love you too baby,” you smile with a chuckle. He then sits up, pulling out swiftly.

“Spread your legs again baby, let me eat that cream pie,” he hisses before resting his head between your legs. He lifts your hips up slightly as he eats you out again, from behind this time. “Fuck you taste so good baby,” he growls against your sensitive skin, dipping his tongue into your entrance. You whimper softly as he uses that twisting method with his tongue again.

You squirm, seeking his mouth all over your core again. Yeosang smirks as he notices your eagerness. “You want me to make you squirt again?” He asks in a teasing tone and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you whimper and he chuckles.

“Remember baby, just because it happened once doesn't mean it'll happen every time,” he explains softly. “So if you don't squirt this time that's okay, don't pressure yourself,” he kisses your ass softly before moving down to your slit again.

You hum softly, acknowledging his words as he licks up your folds. He sucks your folds into his lips before rolling his tongue over them. You moan into the pillow and Yeosang starts eating you out more aggressively, lapping at your juices. He creeps his hand around to your clit, rubbing it back and forth. He uses his flipping tongue method again and you instantly feel your core tightening again.

“Hey baby, I think I'm close again,” you whimper pathetically and Yeosang hums in acknowledgment. He rubs your clit faster as he pokes his tongue into your entrance continuously. His free hand however creeps up from your hip around to your puckered asshole, probing it softly with his finger for extra stimulation. You bury your face in the pillow as your walls clench around nothing, pushing out some of the cum from earlier that Yeosang likes up instantly. From the triple stimulation your body begins to shudder as you snap, coming undone. As you gasp for air Yeosang slides a finger inside you and starts pumping it without hesitation.

You gasp loudly and buck your hips from the sudden intrusion. As the tension in your gut forms again you bite the pillow and once again that feeling of “peeing” returns. You were worried once again that this could go badly but at the same time this all felt so good you didn't care how it ended. Before you knew you could feel the warm liquid spray out of you and Yeosang pulled back, wanting to watch this time.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he rubs your lower back and ass softly. Your body goes completely limp as your body releases everything. Yeosang still ended up being covered in bodily fluids but this time he didn't care, he just wanted to cuddle you. He lays next to you and roll over, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Was that too much?” He asks nervously, worried he hurt you or something but you shake your head.

“No, it was just…a lot,” you sigh with a smile and he pulls you into his chest.

“You were incredible baby,” he showers you in kisses before pulling the blankets up to cover you, trying to avoid the spot with a massive puddle. As your body falls limp under the blankets Yeosang lays next to you, admiring your beauty in such a peaceful state. “I love you,” he kisses your forehead. “Sweet dreams my love,”

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #yeosang x y/n #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang

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xjaylyn · 3 months

Text

PART 3 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: Its been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

a/n: It's a really long chapter like 2 chapters long because I will be out of town for a few days and probably wont have time to update. But I will try if I have some free time. Chapter 4 will be shorter.

"This is it,"

Mike pulls into an apartment complex. At a glance, you can tell it's a quiet place, slightly run down; not many people living here. Getting out of the car, the duo follows Armando to his unit. Unlocking the door, Armando steps inside and turns the light on, it flickering slightly for a second before focusing. His place is small, about the size of a hotel suite, with a small kitchen barely able to fit two people. Tight space but enough for someone who doesn't own much but himself anyway.

"I just need to pack some things and we can head out... don't touch nothing," Armando says while walking into his room. Still standing by the front door, Mike and Marcus look around the place.

"Barely looks lived in... well shit, at least he has a TV," Marcus says, walking towards the small couch to take a seat. Mike steps towards the kitchen, opening the small fridge to see barely anything in there: only a couple of water bottles and simple ingredients to make a sandwich, but that was it. Closing the door, he spots something in the corner on the counter: two small cut-out pictures. One of Armando's mother, Isabel, and one of him. Feeling his chest tighten, he gently places the photos back in the corner.

Hearing Armando walk back into the small space, he steps out of the kitchen. "Nephew, what games you play on here?" Marcus asks, pointing at the PlayStation lying next to the small TV.

Armando looks at the man, raises his brow, "why is that important?"

"Because if it's Call of Duty I'll whoop yo ass, what's your tag?" Adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder, Armando turns his body completely towards his uncle, "What's your rank?"

"Diamond 3 rank 2," Marcus says, crossing his arms.

Scoffing with a smirk on his face, Armando just shakes his head. Dropping his arms, Marcus furrows his brows, "what? What's so funny 'bout that?"

"Nothing, but you ain't whooping nobody ass with that weak ass rank," Armando says, walking up to the door.

"Oh, you a lil disrespectful motherfucker, alright, we gon' see 'bout that," Marcus follows behind him, pointing his finger at the young man walking out the door. "Mike, he just don't know how I do."

--------------------------------------------------------

Four hours into the ride, the three of them sat in peaceful silence. Armando looks at the two in the front, Mike focused on driving and Marcus knocked out, snoring a little bit. Looking at his father, he decides to break the silence.

"What's the mission?" he asks.

Mike glances in the rearview mirror, "Apparently the biggest case the government has ever had... was told you might know something about it."

"I don't know why your people think I know it all, I only worked on what my mother told me to do... she's the one with the answers," Armando shrugs.

"Well, that's fine... we have someone that may know something to help us out... we're picking her up when we arrive in Miami."

Nodding his head, he looks down at the back seat noticing a file sitting beside him. "That's the case file, you can look through it and see if you find something you might recognize."

Picking up the file, he skims through everything. Besides the people he has worked with in the past, he's not sure about everything else. Shaking his head, he looks back up at his father, "Nah, I don't know."

Another silence falls upon the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to fill Armando in on the past 2 years. "Things have been normal since the last mission... thank you, by the way, for helping clear Cap's name-"

"I didn't have much of a choice," Armando interrupts, raising a brow.

"Yeah, well, thank you anyway..." Another silence falls between the two. Clearing his throat, Mike decides to try for a conversation again. "You have a baby sister," Mike mentions, glancing at Armando through the rearview mirror to see his face.

Armando looks up at him, making eye contact but doesn't say a word.

"Yeah, uh, she just turned one yesterday... cutest thing too... she loves anybody that gives her food," Mike laughs. Dropping his hand, he digs in his pocket for his wallet. Opening it up, he reaches back to give it to Armando.

Taking the wallet from him, Armando sees a picture of a baby girl. 'Cute.' Mike notices how Armando's face slightly softens. It wasn't a big facial expression, but you can tell it did something to him. Looking at the picture a little more, his attention looks down to another photo, it was old... one of him as a baby. Closing the wallet, he hands it back to his father.

"Congrats," Armando says, cutting the one-sided conversation to an end and looking out the window watching everything pass by.

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...MIAMI...

Finally arriving at their destination, Mike pulls into the private base, security guarding every corner. Stopping at the gate, Mike and Marcus show their badges. The guard nods and lets them through. Getting out of the car, the three notice Chief Paul Nicola and a couple of guards walking towards them.

"Glad to see you all are here. This way, please," Paul extends his arm out, leading the small group into the private building. "For the past six months, we have kept our informant in max security... she was found in uniform so she is to be kept chained up as we do not know exactly what she is capable of. She has agreed to only speak to the people working with her to negotiate a deal," Paul says while scanning his ID to enter a private area in the building.

Stopping at a door, Paul turns to the trio. "Please don't fuck this up."

Allowing the men to step into the room, there's only one source of light from a small window making it dim. In the center of the room, they see a table and a person sitting down completely covered head to toe in chains that are bolted into the floor—securely fastened to ensure no way to escape.

The trio takes a seat at the table. A guard standing in the corner walks up to unlock the headlock. The sound of the metal mask dropping to the floor echoes through the room. She has a disheveled look to her: curly hair matted and covering some of her features, faded bruises on her face, and a busted lip. Looking into her eyes, they see she is scared and nervous. She stares at the men in front of her uncertainly.

Marcus clears his throat and softly speaks up, "Okay... I'm Detective Marcus Burnett and this is my partner Detective Mike Lowery and Armando." He points to his left and right where Mike nods at her and Armando just stares. "We know you know something that we need to know to get this shit together. So what is it that you need us to do for us to help each other?" Marcus asks, cutting straight to the chase.

The woman continues to stare at the men in front of her before nodding her head towards the guard behind her. "Get him out first."

Looking up at the guard, Mike waves his hand in a shooing motion. "We'll be good, sir," smiling at the guard who hesitates for a second before stepping out. Hearing the heavy door close, she starts, "I need one thing guaranteed to me."

"Layla Batiste... I need one of you to free her... she should be in the 7th cell on the right. Free her and give her anything she needs to make a living," the woman says, her voice shaking a bit.

"Okay, and who is this Layla? Why do we need to free her?" Mike questions.

"My sister... just agree to do that and we have a deal," she pleads, looking at Mike. "And write it down too so you don't forget... Layla Bat-"

"Batiste, 7th cell on the right. Yeah, I got it," Mike says, leaning back in his chair. "Done. Now, what do you know? Actually, what is your name before anything?"

Taking a breath, the woman sits back in her seat. "My name is Rya," she says.

"Okay, Rya, what do you know?"

"Do we have a deal?" Rya presses.

"Yes, we have a deal. We free Layla and you help us. Done. Sealed," Marcus says, leaning forward on the table. Armando just sits back with his arms crossed, watching the whole ordeal.

"You were captured by our military in a uniform... what were you doing in uniform?" Marcus questions.

Rya looks at Marcus then looks down. "I have been a prisoner since I was 10... a way for my parents to pay their debt... he sends us on missions as decoys... I was sent there as a distraction and ended up being caught."

Armando raises a brow at her wording, leaning forward to make his presence known. "Who's he?" he asks, looking at her with a hard expression.

Looking up, Rya makes eye contact with the brown eyes staring at her. She can tell he is studying her, looking for any reason not to trust her and her words. "A man named Sergio... he's dangerous and powerful. His family for decades has been a part of this big project to take over the world. For reasons I don't know... I just know his kind is powerful... and it's not just him. He has the military, doctors, scientists, judges, governments in different countries working for him. Any influence you can think of, he has someone there working for him. It's a world operation that has been growing nonstop... he's just the center of it."

The three men look at the girl in front of them and then at each other, taking in the information given to them. Mike looks back at the girl. "So why help us... what's in it for you?" he questions. She pauses for a second. "No one wants to be locked up and held captive for the rest of their life... this is my only chance and I can't do it by myself. I need your help." She looks at the men in front of her, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Hey, we are here to help as long as you can help us... you said he has connections everywhere... is there any place that you know that we can look into to gather evidence or something?" Marcus asks. Rya nods her head, closing her eyes to hold the tears back. "He has these liquid drops he's creating that's a mixture of different drugs and chemicals... there's a place on the strip... an abandoned lot that no one looks into, that's where he makes some of it."

"You know the exact place and where these drops would be?" Mike asks. Rya nods her head yes.

Slapping his hands on the table, Mike stands up looking down at the young girl. "Well, let's take a look at his little operation and make some shit happen." The three men make their way out of the room. Paul, standing in the hall on his phone, looks up as he hears the door open. Quickly putting his phone away, he walks towards the trio. "So what do we got?" He asks, putting his hands in his pocket, looking back and forth at them.

"The man we're looking for is Sergio. His family is the center of this operation and has connections everywhere. She said there's a secret lab on the strip. Claims he's making liquid drops laced with different drugs. We're gonna check it out and build up the case," Marcus says.

"Okay, good, we have something... I'm going to release her to you guys. Make sure she is protected at all costs. We can't afford to lose her," Paul tells them before walking off.

"Well... now we're babysitting... great."

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Walking out of the building, Paul and two guards on each side of Rya, her hands and feet cuffed. She looks up at the sky, squinting her eyes, and takes a deep breath, finally getting fresh air and light after being confined in a tight cell for 6 months. Looking down, she sees the three men from earlier standing by a car, waiting for her. She wasn't lying when she said Sergio is a dangerous man... his nickname to the people was "The Devil". With the type of connections he has, it's considered damn near impossible to take him down. But still, with the right people and enough evidence... there's a chance. She can only hope she made the right choice and that those three are the ones that can help her.

Feeling a slight tug, her body is forced to a stop. The guard on the right unlocks the cuffs on her feet. Leaving the handcuffs on, he hands the keys to Mike. "The hands are to remain locked." Mike nods, opening the back door to the car. Rya gets in, the door closing behind her. Looking out, she can see Paul exchange a few words with the men before the car doors open and they get in.

"We're going to the station to meet with the team. There you can change and we'll run down everything. Okay?" Mike says, looking back at her in the back seat.

Nodding her head, she feels eyes on her and turns her head to the right, seeing Armando staring at her. She looks him up and down, raising her brow when he doesn't look away. She hears Marcus speak from the front. "Don't worry about him," Marcus says, looking at the two in the back. "He's in his moody teenage phase where he hates his life and everyone in it..." He whispers to Rya. Furrowing his brows, Armando breaks their eye contact by slowly turning his head towards Marcus. "He'll get over it... eventually he tolerates you," Marcus winks at Rya and looks at Armando. "You ever eventually shut the hell up?" Armando asks, causing Mike and Marcus to look at him surprised. "Whoooa," Marcus exclaims, looking at his partner. Mike looks at Armando, "Hey, too much."

Armando rolls his eyes and looks at Rya one more time before he looks away and out the window. "You hear how he talks to me, Mike?... Just no respect for his elders!" Marcus whines from the front seat. "Yeah, I heard him..." The two continue to go back and forth. Rya raises a brow at the dynamic between the people she was put with. Glancing over at Armando, seeing him in his own world, she leans over into the corner of her seat, laying her head back. 'What the hell did I get myself into?'

--------------------------------------------------------

...Miami Precinct...

Stepping out of the shower, Rya wraps her towel around her body and walks over to the locker room mirror. She was able to wash her hair and brush it out, leaving it down to air dry. Wiping the mirror, she looks a little more like herself. The scars and light bruises all over her body are still visible, serving as a reminder of what she had to go through. Shaking her head, she looks over at the folded clothes given to her and quickly puts them on. It's a simple Miami PD t-shirt and black cargos along with black socks, comfortable enough to move around in. Slipping on her shoes, she walks out into the foyer where everybody was waiting for her.

Looking up from the computer, Mike claps his hands and points to Rya. "Everyone, this is Rya, our informant. Rya, this is Rita, the boss, and Kelly and Dorn. They are our tech kids, formally known as AMMO," he says, pointing at everyone. They all wave at her with a small smile, causing her to nod her head in acknowledgment.

Marcus walks up to her with her handcuffs. "Sorry, but they said at all times," he looks at her apologetically, putting the cuffs on her.

"Alright, I have the map of the entire strip. I marked up the abandoned buildings. I just need you to point it out for us," Dorn says, walking up to the table in the middle and laying the map flat on it.

Rya skims over the map. "This one," she says, pointing at a building.

"You sure?"

"Yes, it's that one," she says, looking up at the team.

"Alright, here's the plan," Mike starts. "Rya, you are going to go in and grab a sample of the drops. Grab anything you think we might need that can be used as evidence."

Rya looks at Mike, her eyes widened. "By myself?!" she asks.

"No, uh, Armando will go with you to make sure nothing happens to you. The rest of the team will be watching on the drones, so there's no need to worry."

Calming down a little bit, Rya nods her head. "Okay."

"Armando, you good with that?" Mike asks, looking back at his son who was standing in the back of the room. Armando shrugs and walks off.

"Okay. Well, the plan is set. Let's get ready."

--------------------------------------------------------

...3 Hours Later...

"Alright, can you hear me?" Dorn asks, looking at Armando and Rya who both wore protective gear and their earpieces. Both of them nod their heads as they make their way out of the truck.

"Alright, we'll be right behind you guys. Just grab a sample and get out safely," Rita says, looking at the two before closing the truck door.

Armando starts to walk toward the building, not paying Rya any attention. Rolling her eyes, Rya follows behind, picking up her pace to catch up to him. "Alright, we'll enter first to make sure it's clear," she heard Dorn say into the earpieces. Watching the drone fly into the building a couple of minutes later, she hears Dorn clear them to enter.

Walking into the building, there were broken pieces of glass and boarded-up openings. "You know where the stuff is at, right?" Armando questions, looking back at Rya.

"Yeah, it should be a little further down in a locked room," she replies. Making their way around the building, the two end up at a dead end.

"It's a dead end," Armando says, looking at the wall.

"No, it's just made to look that way," Rya corrects him.

Armando looks at Rya for a second before looking back at the wall. Stepping back a little, he kicks at the wall, and it easily crumbles, revealing a laboratory full of different substances. Skimming the room before stepping in, Armando picks up a bag full of white pills. "Opioids?" Armando mumbles, setting the bag back down. Watching Armando look around the place, Rya sneaks her still cuffed hands into her pocket, pulling out a flash drive. Looking around, she sees a desk off in the corner with a computer on it.

"Where are the drops?" Armando asks, looking back at her.

Quickly hiding the flash drive in her palm, she looks back at Armando and clears her throat.

"It should be in a case or one of these tubes," she says, stepping into the room.

Walking around, she makes her way towards the computer, quickly putting the flash drive in and pressing a button to turn on the computer. Looking back up to make sure Armando was still looking around, she presses around until she sees a downloading screen. Quickly walking away from the computer to look around.

"What are you doing?" She hears Armando question, staring at her.

"Looking for the drops, it should be around here somewhere," she replies, glancing around and noticing a small black case sitting on top of a shelf.

Lifting her cuffed hands, she points at the case.

"There, I think that's it."

Walking over, Armando picks up the case and places it on the counter. Unlocking it, he opens it to see a bunch of little tubes full of a liquid labeled 'OPP.M'. Glancing at Rya, who is looking at the tubes, he grabs one of the tubes and puts it in his pocket.

"Alright, let's go."

Suddenly, a beeping sound goes off.

"What is that?" Armando says, and Rya looks over at the computer.

Quickly walking over, she sees an error displayed on the screen.

"Shit," she mumbles, quickly grabbing the flash drive. She feels Armando grab her shoulder roughly, causing her to turn towards him.

"What the fuck is that?" His face hardens.

"Guys, we have people coming in," Kelly speaks into the earpiece.

All of a sudden, a man fully covered in black with a gold star stitched on his vest comes in firing at the two. Armando swiftly dodges, pulling Rya with him. Getting pushed under the counter, Rya watches as Armando grabs the man, making him stumble. Taking his gun away from him, Armando shoots the man.

More men in black come into the room. Armando fights each one coming at him. Watching him get outnumbered, Rya runs out, taking her cuffed hands and grabbing one of the men from behind, choking him with the chain.

Turning around, she takes the man with her, using him as a shield as one of the other men tries to shoot at her. Dropping his body, she drops to her knee, sliding across the floor, picking up a gun and shooting the men coming towards her. Running out of ammo, she runs up to one of the men, dodging the bullets before hitting him with the butt of the gun.

Grabbing one of the glass flasks on the desk, she breaks it and picks up the sharpest piece. A man comes up to her, throwing a punch. She strategically maneuvers, causing him to fall forward and land on the desk. Stabbing the man a few times in the back, she then turns around and slices the neck of another man coming towards her. A few minutes pass of her and Armando fighting, the last body dropping. She looks up at Armando, slightly roughed up and out of breath, already staring at her. Looking down at her bloody cuffed hands, she drops the piece of glass.

"What the fuck?" she hears Mike in her earpiece. Taking a breath, she looks back up at Armando.

"We got what we need, let's go," she says before turning around and walking out of the room, Armando following behind, glaring at her.

Making her way out of the building, she sees the doors of the truck open up, the team looking at her and Armando coming over. Stepping into the truck, she makes her way over to Dorn's computer and screens. "hey thats my seat" Dorn says pointing at her.

"What the fuck was that?" Marcus says, furrowing his brows and looking at Rya with his arms open.

Armando sits on the seat, unstrapping his vest. "Clearly your informant isn't just an informant," he says, glaring at her.

Rolling her eyes, she pulls out the flash drive from her pocket and swiftly inserts it into the computer, a bunch of files popping up. "Hey, who the fuck are you? Because that wasn't the same helpless girl that was crying and shit, pleading for us to help her back at the prison?!" Marcus says, pulling her shoulder back, forcing her to face the team, all looking at her with confusion apparent on their faces.

"You got some explaining to do," Mike says, crossing his arms.

Staring back at the team, Rya leans back in the chair. 'Well, shit.'

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!):

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno

#armando aretas #armando imagine #armando x reader #bad boys #armando aretas x black reader #armando aretas x reader #bad boys second chances #jacob scipio #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #will smith #martin lawrence #armando aretas x black!oc

266 notes · View notes

valsdelulucorner · 4 months

Note

LOVE THE MERMAID AU FOR OBEY ME

Love em so much 🥹

Idk what to even ask about or say to be honest. my brain turns so empty when i get in the ask box haha 😅

If your asks and stuff are open then Uhmmmmmmmm i think maybe.... ... If you're not taking requests then don't worry about this! I love your stuff and also i get that burnout and needing a break from social media stuff is a thing!

Also i genuinely can't think right now... I kinda hoped that if i kept typing I'd come up with something, kinda like how sometimes rambles help with word flow but eh hhhhh.

I definitely like mermaid au obey me stuff.... And i like making arts and crafts... So maybe reactions to reader making lil stuff from either the island or shipwrecks for the mer brothers?

Also I definitely want you to know i love your stuff and i really liked your Rook Hunt drawing and i LOVE THE MERMAID AU and I'll be back if i come up with anything to say (can't tell you how long i spent just typing random words and rambling and then deleting them trying to get my thoughts and words to flow 😅 I'm so tired)

please, this made me cry😭 you are so sweet, i really do appreciate this. I've been through abit of a rough patch with college so this just made me feel better<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mer-brothers with a artsy MC

Ever since MC got stranded on the island and made friends with 7 mer-folk, they found out there wasn't much to do whenever they were alone and away from the brothers. So one day, MC decided to entertain themselves by going exploring, heading deep into the forest in the middle of the island only to find some players, a messy journal, a surprisingly dry pencil, a few little things of paint mixer, a sharp poking tool, and a whole box of un-rusted wire.

MC was over the moon after finding the box of supplies, eagerly taking it back to the cove through the land entrance. The brothers were just coming back from a bountiful hunt out near the reefs, each bringing in some sort of edible sea creature behind them. Mammon was the first to notice you fiddling with a box of stuff and left his meal in his designated pool, the fins on the end of his tail hiding it from a hungry beel.

His head was tilted in confusion as you fussed over a ratty looking box, wasn't the sparkly treasure chest he brought back to the cove not good enough that you had to resort to a old wooden crate? It wasn't until caught a glimpse of you already starting to bend and twist the wire that he started to get more curious, hauling himself up onto the rock and crawling over to you.

The others only notice this when they hear mammon start to stutter out words, looking over to see you holding his wrist and hand while holding the wire carefully for measurements. It doesn't take long until they are all up on the rock near your little box to investigate what you are doing, all of them asking questions here and there while you bend and twist the wire to fix around Mammons wrist comfortable. It was this moment that opened up a lot more opportunities to keep yourself entertained when the brothers where away.

The brothers would come back and randomly find little rocks painted with home made paint you made with random crushed materials mixed with paint mixer. They would find little charms, necklaces, rings, piercings and bracelets you made on your little ledge inside the cove. As much as they would like to look at your drawings, they would have to wait for their hands to dry before touching the paper.

It was when they found out you carved a little whale out of whale bone with a sharp rock where they started to try and find more arty supplies for you whenever they go out and hunt. They love seeing your little creations, they would be even more amazed if you made them a little piece for them to keep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer- He gets some cute little waist jewelry from you made from pearls, rope, and small bits of wire. He enjoys it because it helps keeps up his waist cloth like a belt, plus it makes his waist nicer. He thanked you for it and was pleasantly surprised when it kept his waist cloth up

Mammon- He was the jewelry tester so he got a lot of piercings and waist jewelry out of wire and treasures he finds. He constantly wears your little creations and even brings you little gems and treasure he finds pretty, risking it for you to make some more jewlery

Leviathan- He gets a little bracelet made of wire, shell, and little gems which complements his Ruri Chan bracelet that he found. His face turned beat red when you gave it to him, he hasn't taken it off yet

Satan- He gets some fin jewelry made from pure wire, with just one or two little green gems mammon found for you to use. The pieces fit perfectly on his sharp fins and was probably the longest you've spent on a piece for someone. He smiled softly when you were taking the measurements, he looks beautiful yet deadly

Asmodeus- He got a little necklace made from whale bone, rope, and pearls, and cute little pink gems. You carved a little flower from the whale bone and used the pink gem for the middle of it, the pearls mixed in and intertwined with the rope. Squealed when he saw it, he loved it so much and had you help him put it on

Beelezubub- You made a little tail charm for him made out of rope and shell (giving surfer dude), little pieces of wire mixed into it to make sure the shell stays on. He smiled as he now matched with belphie with the tail charm, and it doesn't get in the way of hunting so he loves it

Belphegor- You made him a necklace made out of the same material as Beels tail charm, the shells being purple instead of a orangey brown colour. He didn't realize you put the necklace on him at first until he went out hunting with beel, smiling softly as his precious new necklace caught him easy prey

Overall, they love to see your little creations and how they decorate the little cove they call home. How glad they were that Lucifer saved you that day and brought you to the island

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love getting requests like this, its just so sweet<3 This was so fun to write about, i loved the Idea of arty MC. Sorry this fell more into wire crafts and jewelry, my friend has been showing me some really cool earrings and they became a big inspo

What should I do next?

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wannabehockeygf · 16 days

Text

cut my hair - matthew tkachuk

part of the think later fic series

"Just wanna cut my hair Lose myself Make you sweat Go out and get messed up Find myself in your bed"

***

request: “heyyyyy me again. Would you be able to do another Matthew Tkachuk for cut my hair? a lil angsty and smuty with a happy ending. Thank you!”

summary: after being dumped, you make it your mission to have him regret everything. word count: 9.2k pairing: matthew tkachuk x fem!reader warnings: 18+ NSFW! Unprotected sex, talk about sex in the past, a lot of slightly kinky shit (biting and stuff like that, not too crazy), creampie, alcohol, sex in public (but sort of hidden?) degradation & degrading talk, toxic relationship. notes: - i actually started this a few days ago & then i got a request for something similar so i tweaked it. girl u read my mind.

-^ my loyal requester. please don’t worry about sending too much in, trust me I love you for it, but don’t expect things too quickly ❤️ - ^^ this is barely edited or proof read. i tried but there's gonna be repetitive shit & i'll probably end up tweaking it but here it is yayyy - haven't written smut in a while 😋 - guys as much as i love chucky & quinn i really would like to write about people from the team i support the most...(the leafs if you somehow couldn't tell?) so i'm gonna be focusing on them for a bit & if you would like to request one (or clayton keller, he's my exception) please do! - ^ that being said, i will start working on qhxga pt.3 soon. - in light of everything going on, i would like to clarify matthew has not drinken anything in this despite him being in a bar & this being fiction. PLEASE don't drink and drive. ***

You’re mad.

You’re mad about a lot of things. Which is weird, because usually, you’re not mad, you just bask in your misery all day.

You’re too touchy-feely for your own good. The sad girl act is getting old, and you know it.

At least, that’s what he told you.

“You’re so fucking dramatic! Like, holy shit, can you just let go for once and have fun? Because that’s it. That’s all we’re doing, we’re having fun. I don’t give a fuck about your feelings, I’m not the guy you’ll marry!”

The lump in your throat seems to grow by the second as you try to speak. “So what, you’re saying we should break up?”

Matthew scoffs over the line, and you can basically imagine him pacing his apartment, tugging at the curly strands of his hair as if it could make him think more clearly. “We were never dating! But if you really want to see it that way, then, fuck yes, let’s break up.”

The phone call ends with a click, but the sound echoes in your head like a slammed door. Matthew’s words hang in the air, and for a second, you just stand there, staring at your phone screen as if expecting an apology to pop up. But it doesn’t. Because he never does that.

You feel the burn of unshed tears behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Not this time. His voice still rings in your ears, mocking you. You’re so dramatic. Maybe he’s right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. You chew your lip, pacing your small apartment. Your reflection catches your eye in the hallway mirror—your long hair falling in waves past your shoulders, the way Matthew always said he liked it. Suddenly, the sight of it makes your stomach twist with resentment.

He doesn’t care about you. He never did.

The anger rushes through your veins, fueling you, pushing you towards the scissors in your bathroom drawer. You grip them tightly, the cool metal biting into your palm as you lift them to your hair. He liked it long, huh? A bitter laugh escapes your throat. Without giving yourself time to overthink, you hack off the first chunk, watching it fall into the sink. It feels… freeing. With every cut, it’s like you’re snipping away the pieces of yourself that he’s picked apart. The version of you that wanted him to love her. Gone. The version that begged for scraps of his attention. Gone.

When you’re done, you barely recognize yourself. The hair that once framed your face is gone, leaving behind a sharp, choppy cut that makes you look fiercer, harder. It feels good.

The little black dress hangs in the back of your closet, practically taunting you. You haven’t worn it in months—Matthew hated it. Said it was too much, too revealing, that it would draw attention. But tonight, that’s exactly what you want. You pull it on, the soft fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. You glance in the mirror once more, a smirk curling your lips. Let him see what he’s missing.

“Let’s see who’s too dramatic now,” you mutter, grabbing your purse. The night is still young, and you know exactly where he’ll be. The bar on 5th Street, right near your apartment—his favorite, your least favorite. It always smells like spilled beer and desperation. Fitting, considering that’s where you met him.

Your heels click against the pavement with each determined step outside. You’re buzzing with anticipation, nerves, and spite. It’s like electricity under your skin, the kind that makes your hands shake but your heart pound in excitement. There’s something so satisfying about this, about showing up like this, looking like you don’t give a damn when, really, you give so many. Too many.

You try not to think about what he’ll say when he sees you. You can already imagine his eyebrows shooting up, that condescending smirk tugging at his lips. “What the hell did you do to your hair?” he’d say, because that’s Matthew—always focusing on the superficial, on the surface, never diving deeper. But tonight, you don’t want him to dive. You want him to drown.

The bar looms ahead, its neon sign flickering like some kind of cheap welcome–you know he’ll be here. You hesitate for only a second before pushing the door open, the familiar smell of alcohol and sweat hitting you like a wave. Your eyes scan the room, searching, until you find him. He’s leaning against the bar, laughing with some girl, unopened Corona in hand. He doesn’t see you at first, but you see him.

Your stomach twists in knots, anger and nerves swirling together. For a brief moment, you wonder if this was a mistake. If you’re being too... well, dramatic. But then his voice from earlier echoes in your head: “I don’t give a fuck about your feelings.”

Your spine straightens, resolve hardening like steel.

You walk toward him, every step feeling like an eternity. He turns, and there it is—his eyes widen, confusion flashing across his face before that stupid smirk settles in. He looks you up and down, taking in the dress, the hair, the new you. You can feel the anger bubbling up again, but there’s something else lurking beneath it—a twisted satisfaction at the way his mouth hangs open slightly, like he doesn’t know what to say. You arch a brow, waiting for the inevitable comment. He doesn't disappoint.

“What the hell did you do to your hair?”

There it is. Just like you predicted, and somehow, it still stings. Of course, he’d focus on that first. Not the fact that you showed up here looking like a goddamn queen in the dress he hates, not the fact that you’ve changed in a way he can’t even begin to comprehend—no, it’s always the surface with him.

You cross your arms, throwing every ounce of defiance into your stance. “I cut it,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for noticing.”

Matthew’s eyes narrow, his smirk faltering just for a second before he recovers. “Yeah, I noticed. What, you having a meltdown or something?”

There’s the laugh. The one that makes you feel small, like you’re just a joke to him. Your blood boils at the sound, but you force yourself to keep your expression steady, hiding the tremor in your voice as you reply. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just got tired of pretending to be the version of me that you liked. Ever think of that?”

He blinks, thrown off by the venom in your words. For a second, you wonder if he’ll apologize, if he’ll say something that softens the sharp edges of this moment. But no. Matthew is Matthew, and his pride won’t let him back down.

“Jesus, you’re really something, huh?” His smirk deepens, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes now—something like recognition, like maybe he’s starting to see the version of you he never bothered to notice. The one that’s done waiting for him to care. “You don’t have to get all dramatic about it. We were just having fun, that’s all.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, each beat like a drum, loud and insistent. He’s standing there, smug and arrogant, as if he still holds some kind of power over you. Like you’re a joke. Like you haven’t just hacked off your hair and thrown on the dress that makes you feel like a goddess in defiance of everything he’s ever said.

And yet, despite the burn of his words, you can’t deny the pull. That stupid, magnetic draw that he has over you. You hate it. You hate him. But there’s something intoxicating about the way he’s looking at you now, a flash of something dangerous in his eyes. Something you recognize all too well.

“I’m dramatic?” Your voice rises, thick with sarcasm, but the pain seeps through, like a tear you can’t stitch up fast enough. “You’re the one who just broke up with me—or, sorry—broke up with me from the relationship that apparently never existed. So excuse me if I’m a little dramatic, Matthew.”

He leans back against the bar, taking another sip of his drink, his gaze never leaving yours. There’s that look again. You know it well—half-annoyed, half-amused, like you’re entertaining him somehow, like this whole mess is just another game to him. His lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smirk. "Well, if you're gonna throw a tantrum every time something doesn’t go your way, maybe this is for the best.”

Your hands ball into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as the anger bubbles beneath your skin, ready to burst. You want to scream at him, to tell him he’s an asshole, that he’ll never deserve you. But the words lodge in your throat, tangled up with the hurt, and instead, all you can do is glare at him. God, you hate him. You hate how he knows exactly what to say to get under your skin, to make you feel small, even now.

But as much as you want to storm out, to prove that you’re better than this, you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot, locked in place by the storm brewing between you. The air feels electric, like something is about to snap, and you can feel it—this pull between the anger and something else, something darker and heavier.

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you two. The smell of his cologne—woodsy, warm—hits you, and it pisses you off even more because it brings back memories you don’t want. Late nights tangled in his sheets, the way his lips felt against your neck, the stupid, tender moments that don’t match this Matthew standing in front of you, smirking like none of it mattered. Like you don’t matter.

“God, you’re such a prick,” you mutter, your voice low, barely more than a whisper. But he hears it. His smirk falters for just a second, and in that moment, you see it—something cracks behind his eyes. A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even guilt. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Oh, I’m the prick? That’s rich coming from the girl who’s been throwing herself at me for months,” he fires back, his voice dripping with mockery. His words sting, but you don’t flinch. You’re done letting him hurt you. Not tonight, but then he keeps then talking. “You wanna know why I never saw this as anything more than fun? Because you pull this shit. Every time. You get all clingy and needy, and it’s fucking exhausting."

You stand there, staring at him, his words a knife twisting deeper and deeper into your chest with every syllable. Clingy. Needy. Exhausting. They echo in your head, bouncing around like cruel little taunts, each one sharpening your anger until it feels like it’s going to spill out of you, red-hot and uncontrollable.

Clingy? You’ve been "clingy?"

You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, but instead, the sound that escapes you is more of a strangled scoff. How dare he? How dare he act like you’re the problem? Like you’ve been the one hanging on too tight, when all you ever did was try to be close to him. All you wanted was to feel wanted by him, but apparently, that made you exhausting.

The room feels smaller, the air heavier, like the world’s closing in on you. Or maybe that’s just your body’s way of processing the tidal wave of rage, hurt, and—goddamn it—desire that’s pulling you in too many directions at once. You can barely think straight, your heart pounding in your ears as his smirk only deepens, like he knows he’s hit a nerve and is more than happy to twist the knife in further.

Exhausting? You can feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, heating you from the inside out. No, you’re not exhausting—you’re furious.

He has the audacity to stand there, cool as ever, his gaze sliding down your body as if this entire thing is nothing more than a minor inconvenience for him. You want to slap him. You want to scream at him. You want to walk out of this bar and never see him again. But instead, you’re rooted to the spot, because there’s something else simmering beneath the rage—a sick, twisted pull that’s keeping you here, stuck in this toxic mess of a situation, and it’s only getting harder to ignore.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you swallow hard, trying to compose yourself before you lose it completely. “Clingy, huh? Is that what you call wanting a fucking relationship? Needing someone to actually give a shit about you?”

Your words are sharp, biting, but there’s a tremor beneath them, the anger barely masking the hurt that’s been clawing at you since the phone call. Matthew doesn’t miss it. His eyes flicker, just for a second, like he almost feels bad, but then his expression hardens again, that irritating, cocky grin sliding back into place as if he’s made of stone.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t act like the world’s ending every time I don’t text you back, we wouldn’t be here,” he retorts, his voice laced with mockery. He takes another step closer, his body towering over you, the heat of him pressing into your space, but you stand your ground, refusing to be the one to flinch first. “You get so goddamn dramatic about everything. I didn’t sign up for that shit.”

His words should make you snap, should make you storm out of this bar with your dignity intact, but instead, you’re frozen. Your heart is hammering in your chest, but not just from anger. No, it’s that stupid, horrible, unbearable attraction. The one that makes you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. The scent of his cologne strengthens, the same one that used to cling to your sheets after he’d sneak out in the morning. The same one that’s tied to every bad decision you’ve ever made where he’s concerned. And God, you hate him for it.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, voice low and tight, but your throat is closing in around the words. “I’ve been throwing myself at you? Right. Like you weren’t the one showing up at my place at two in the morning, wanting to ‘hang out’ when we both know what that meant.”

His smirk falters again, but not for long. He steps even closer, close enough now that you can see the flicker of something darker in his eyes. A spark that you know all too well. The same one that got you into this mess in the first place. You shouldn’t still be here, you shouldn’t still be entertaining this bullshit, but it’s like your body and mind are at war, and your body’s starting to win. Your fists clench at your sides as he leans in, close enough that his breath brushes your skin when he speaks.

“You loved every second of it,” he says, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “Don’t act like you didn’t. Like you didn’t beg for it.”

That’s it. That’s the final straw. Something inside you snaps, and before you can think better of it, your hand lashes out, shoving him hard in the chest. He barely stumbles, but the shock in his eyes is enough to make you feel a small, fleeting victory. “Fuck you, Matthew,” you spit out, your voice trembling. “I didn’t beg for shit. You’re the one who kept coming back, like some... like some goddamn parasite!”

The second the words leave your mouth, you expect him to snap back, to yell, to argue. But instead, his eyes darken, his jaw clenches, and there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now—like he’s two seconds away from either tearing into you or kissing you. And you hate that you can’t tell which one you want more.

The air between you is thick, suffocating. You’re breathing hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and he’s right there, barely inches away, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. And then, as if some invisible thread snaps between you, he moves.

In an instant, his hands are on you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and before you can protest or even think, his lips crash into yours.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s desperate, angry, a mess of teeth and tongues and heat. You want to push him away, to scream at him, to throw something, but instead, you find yourself kissing him back just as hard, your body betraying every rational thought in your head. It’s like everything inside you is on fire, all the rage and hurt and lust combusting into one reckless, overwhelming need.

His hands are rough as they grab your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasp into his mouth, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt as if you’re trying to ground yourself, to keep from getting swept up in the tornado of emotions swirling around you. But it’s no use. You’re already lost in it.

The kiss deepens, and you can taste his signature mint gum on his breath, can feel the urgency in the way he’s touching you, like he can’t get enough. Like he needs you as much as you hate needing him right now. Your back hits the bar, and he presses into you, his body solid and warm, and it feels so familiar, so maddeningly familiar that you could scream.

This is wrong. This is so, so wrong.

But you don’t stop. Neither of you do. Because even though you know this is a bad idea, even though you know you’ll regret this in the morning, right now, it feels like the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping tightly, and you moan into his mouth, your body arching against his. The sound makes him groan, low and rough, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild, his lips swollen from the kiss. “You wanna get out of here, princess?” he whispers, his voice rough, “Or did you want to put on a show for everyone? You were obviously planning on it, with this slutty little thing.” he punctates his last words by snapping your visible bra strap against your shoulder, making you gasp.

Your breath hitches at the sting of his words, but there’s a part of you that thrills at the edge of humiliation, at the way he’s using your vulnerability against you. It’s twisted, but it’s like a key unlocking something deep inside you. You’ve been fighting so hard, trying to stay in control, but with him so close, with him touching you and talking to you like this, everything unravels.

“Get a grip, Matthew,” you manage to snarl, though the tremor in your voice betrays you. “You don’t get to act like you’re above this when you’re the one who dragged me into this mess.”

His eyes flash with something dark, almost predatory. “Dragged you? You came running. Don’t pretend you didn’t want this, didn’t want me to notice you. This whole act—” he gestures vaguely at your dress and hair, “—is just you trying to get me to see you. Well, guess what? I see you. And you know what? I don’t fucking care.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you can’t back down now. You’re in too deep, and the anger mixing with your lust makes you reckless. “I don’t need you to care,” you snap, grabbing his collar and pulling him closer. “I just need you to fuck me right now. Show me how much you don’t care.”

His lips are on yours again before you can even think, stealing your breath and your sanity all at once. You hate him for it. God, you hate how easily he can undo you, how quickly he makes you forget why you’re angry in the first place. But even as the thought crosses your mind, you’re kissing him back, harder this time, as if the sheer force of it will somehow knock sense into both of you. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

Your body presses up against his, the heat between you almost unbearable, and you can feel him smirking into the kiss, the bastard. You want to wipe that cocky look off his face, but at the same time, you want to see just how far he’s willing to push you. It’s like every nerve in your body is buzzing, caught between wanting to slap him and wanting to strip him down and ride him until neither of you can remember your own names. The worst part? You’re not sure which one you’ll end up doing first.

He bites down on your bottom lip, sharp and deliberate, and you gasp, the pain only fueling the fire inside you. "That all you got, princess?" he mutters against your mouth, his voice a low, mocking growl. It’s the same tone that’s always driven you insane, always made you want to throw something at him—and now, it’s making you wet. Great.

You narrow your eyes, wrenching yourself away from his mouth long enough to glare at him. “Don’t call me that,” you spit, hating how breathless you sound, hating how much you’re giving away with every ragged inhale.

He just grins, the kind of grin that makes you want to slap him, but instead, you find your hand curling into the front of his shirt, yanking him closer. “What, don’t like your cute little nickname? I thought you loved attention, baby.”

“I don’t need your fucking attention,” you shoot back, though the lie burns your throat on the way out. “I just need you to shut up and make yourself useful for once.”

He chuckles darkly, his fingers digging into your hips with bruising force, and something about the way he’s looking at you makes your stomach flip. You hate how easy it is for him to get under your skin, how quickly he can strip away all the walls you’ve built up around yourself. “Useful, huh?” he repeats, his voice dripping with mockery as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Funny, I don’t remember you complaining the last time I had you screaming my name.”

Your breath catches in your throat, but you refuse to let him see how much that rattles you. “That was a fluke,” you mutter, though your voice wavers. “Let’s not pretend it meant anything.”

That was a fluke? Did you really just try to sell that lie? The memory of his name leaving your lips—no, leaving your throat in a desperate, pleading gasp—burns behind your eyelids. You can still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the way he pulled sounds from you that you didn’t even know you were capable of making. And now, here you are, trying to convince him, and yourself, that it didn’t mean a thing.

Pathetic.

The silence stretches for a beat too long, your throat tight with the effort of holding back all the things you want to say, all the venom you want to spit right in his smug, infuriating face. He’s just standing there, practically vibrating with amusement, like he knows he’s won this round. And that—that’s what sends your anger spiking again, turning into something molten.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, and you shiver despite yourself. “Fluke, huh?” His voice is low, dangerous, and you hate that it sends a ripple of something dark and wanting straight through your core. “So, if I touched you right now—if I slipped my fingers under that pathetic excuse of a dress—I'd find you soaking wet by accident?”

You hate him. You hate him so much, it hurts.

Without thinking, you pull back just enough to whisper, “Let’s get out of here.” Your voice is rough, breathless, and you hate that he’s the reason for it.

His eyes flash with something dark, something feral, and he smirks down at you, his lips swollen and red. “Yeah?” he taunts, his hands still tight on your hips. “You want me that bad?”

You grit your teeth, hating how he twists everything, how he always knows exactly where to hit. “Fuck you,” you bite out, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Take me somewhere, or I’ll find someone who will.”

His grip on you tightens dangerously, his eyes flashing with anger and something else, something possessive. “Over my dead fucking body.”

Before you can blink, he’s pulling you away from the bar, his hand gripping yours tightly, practically dragging you through the throngs of people. You stumble after him, your head spinning, your body still buzzing with adrenaline and anger and lust. The music pounds around you, the heat from the crowd suffocating, but all you can focus on is the way his hand feels in yours, the way your heart pounds in your chest like it’s trying to break free.

It’s reckless. It’s insane. And it’s exactly what you need.

The air outside should be cooler–but it’s not. It’s humid, sticky, and uncomfortably warm, Florida summers coming into full effect. The night threatens to swallow you both whole as he hauls you down a side alley, the noise of the club fading but the adrenaline still roaring through your veins. Every step you take feels like it’s leading you further into the eye of the storm, and even though you know there’s no going back now, you can’t stop. You don’t want to stop.

“What’s the rush?” you sneer, yanking at his hand, though not hard enough to actually break his grip. “Afraid I’ll change my mind?”

He glances back at you, that infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his swollen lips. “Nah, princess. I’m just getting us somewhere quiet so I don’t have to listen to your whining while I fuck the attitude out of you.”

Your throat tightens, a hot flush crawling up your neck as you realize where this is headed. A dingy alley behind a club, dimly lit and reeking of stale beer and cigarette smoke—this is where it’s going to happen? Your body is screaming at you to care, to turn around and leave, but your legs keep moving forward, drawn to him like a moth to the flame.

He pulls you into a narrow alcove, barely wide enough for both of you, and the second you’re tucked inside, he’s on you. His body presses against yours, firm and demanding, and it’s all you can do to keep your knees from buckling as his hands grip your waist like he owns you.

This is ridiculous. How did you end up here? Again. Every damn time. You swore after the last time that you were done—that you wouldn’t let him crawl back into your space, under your skin, and wrap his filthy, bruising grip around your heart. But here you are, yet again, like some stupid moth drawn to the inferno that is Matthew Tkachuk.

You want to shove him away, to scream in his face that you’re not the girl who falls for this. Except, you know better. You are exactly the girl who falls for this. The one who caves when he looks at you with those maddening blue eyes. The girl who lets him wreck her in alleyways behind clubs in the sticky heat of a Florida night, knowing damn well how this will end: messily.

“Still pretending, huh?” His voice rumbles low against your ear, mocking and sharp. He’s pressed so close you can feel every word vibrate through you, igniting your nerves like a lit fuse. "You keep telling yourself you hate this, but you're so fucking obvious. Look at you—" he pauses, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls your body tighter against his, "—practically melting into me. If you were any more desperate, you’d be begging."

The insult should sting. It should make you slap him, curse him out, anything—but instead, a fire blooms in your chest, fierce and hot, because the bastard’s not entirely wrong. And isn’t that just the worst part? He knows how to press every button, dig under your skin like it’s his damn playground, and worse yet, you let him. Every. Single. Time.

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that?” Your voice is breathless, each word shaky and ragged, but at least you still manage to get them out. “You think you’ve got me figured out? Please. The only reason I’m here is because no one else in this godforsaken place knows how to shut you up.”

The second the words leave your mouth, you regret them—not because you don’t mean it (you do)—but because it only serves to fuel him. That cocky grin spreads across his face, slow and deliberate, like he knows he’s won something. His eyes flicker with amusement, the kind that makes you want to punch him in the throat.

“Shut me up?” he repeats, one brow arching. He leans in, lips brushing your ear as he speaks, voice low and dripping with arrogance. “Funny, you didn’t seem so eager to shut me up the last time I had you moaning my name loud enough to wake up half the fucking city. So, what’s the plan this time? You gonna play hard to get until you’re dripping for me again?”

Heat rushes to your face, your pulse racing at the way he’s goading you. The memory of that night comes rushing back with startling clarity—the way he made you unravel piece by piece, the sounds he dragged out of you, your body shaking in his hands. No. Not again. You grit your teeth, fighting back the whirlwind of feelings that threatens to consume you.

“God, you really are delusional,” you bite out, shoving at his chest, though it’s mostly for show. His body barely moves under your weak attempt to push him off. “I’m not here because I want you. I’m here because I pity you. You always need someone to tell you what a good job you’re doing, don’t you, Tkachuk? Can’t go five minutes without being validated.”

It’s a low blow, you know it. But you’re playing dirty, because that’s what this is—dirty, ugly, and twisted beyond recognition. His expression darkens for a split second, and you think maybe you’ve gotten through that thick skull of his. But then his grip on your waist tightens painfully, and suddenly you’re pinned against the wall, your back pressing hard against the brick harder, the air punched out of your lungs by the force.

“Oh, I don’t need validation from you, princess,” he snarls, his face inches from yours now. His lips curl in that infuriating smirk, all teeth and malice, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I get that plenty from everyone else. You’re just the one who can’t seem to keep your legs closed when I’m around.”

You hate that his words stirs something in you, some deep, primal urge you’d rather ignore. He can see it too, the way your breath catches, the faint flush that creeps up your neck. Every scathing insult, every venomous remark felt like a bruise that you both pressed harder into because neither of you could seem to stop. And worse, some traitorous part of you doesn’t want to stop. You’re furious—at him, at yourself, at how easily you let him turn you into someone else entirely. Someone who gets off on the ugly, spiteful mess you make together.

But what do you do when that mess feels so fucking good?

Your thoughts swirl, a chaotic storm, as his eyes bore into yours, dark and predatory, daring you to do something—anything. God, how do you always end up here? You swore you were done. You told yourself that the last time he fucked you against a wall like you were something to be used and discarded. You’ve never been able to stay away, though, and the worst part? He knows it.

“You’re disgusting,” you hiss, the words tearing from your throat as if that could somehow free you from the pull he has on you. “You think you can talk to me like that and I’ll still—” But your words die in your throat as his hand slides up your side, fingers pushing over the straps of your dress. The sensation makes you jump, a sharp gasp escaping before you can bite it back. Goddamn him.

His lips curve into a wicked grin, eyes narrowing like a predator who’s caught the scent of blood. “Still pretending you don’t like this?” he breathes, his voice a slow, dangerous drawl that rakes over your skin. His other hand trails lower, brushing the inside of your thigh, and your body betrays you—your legs quiver, and he feels it. Of course, he does. “Tell me again how much you hate this,” he mocks, his lips grazing your ear, the words sending a shudder down your spine. “Go ahead. Convince yourself you don’t want my hands all over you right now.”

I hate this. I hate him. You keep repeating it, as if the words could solidify and become truth, as if you could convince your traitorous body to listen. But no matter how hard you try to summon any real anger, all that rises is a wave of heat that feels like it's going to swallow you whole. You feel him smirk against your skin, his breath hot on your neck, and it makes something in you snap.

"God, you're so fucking predictable," you sneer, even though your voice trembles. "Always gotta prove you're the big man, huh? Does it get tiring, being this pathetic?"

You’re trying, trying so hard to dig your heels in, to maintain some sense of power in this wretched game you’ve both played a hundred times before. But you know—he knows—it’s crumbling fast. His hand is already inching higher, under your skirt, rough fingers ghosting along the inside of your thigh, and every ounce of resolve you cling to feels like it's slipping through your fingers.

Don’t react, you tell yourself. Don’t give him the satisfaction. But then his fingers brush the edge of your panties, and your whole body jerks involuntarily, a shuddering gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. And there it is. The crack in your armor, the proof that despite all your sharp words, your body is already begging for him.

"Still got that smart mouth, huh?" His voice is velvet laced with venom, a dangerous drawl that makes your skin tingle. "It’s funny, you talk such a big game, but I’m pretty sure I can feel how much you want this. You’re soaked."

His words slam into you, making your cheeks burn with humiliation, but there’s no denying it. You can feel it—the heat pooling between your legs, the dampness that betrays everything you’ve been trying to deny. It’s pathetic, really. How he can reduce you to this, turn you inside out with just a few touches and that goddamn voice.

“I fucking hate you,” you hiss, pushing at his chest again, but the movement is weak, half-hearted. You’re shaking—whether from rage, lust, or some twisted cocktail of both, you don’t even know anymore. But he doesn’t move, not even an inch. Instead, he presses closer, so close you can feel every inch of him against you, hard and insistent.

“Yeah?” His lips curl into a smirk, eyes dark and glinting with amusement. “Funny how hate looks a lot like you grinding on me, sweetheart. You sure you don’t want to rethink that?”

Your body answers before your brain can. Without meaning to, your hips roll against him, just a slight shift, but enough to make his breath hitch. And God, the satisfaction that flares in your chest at that tiny victory is intoxicating. But it’s short-lived, because suddenly you’re hyper-aware of where you are—pressed against a brick wall in the sticky heat of a dimly lit alley, where anyone could walk by at any moment.

Your pulse spikes with a new kind of anxiety. “Wait,” you breathe, suddenly feeling exposed, raw. You push at him again, harder this time. “Not here. Someone could—”

But Matthew doesn’t even blink. If anything, his grin widens, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your ear. “Oh, what’s this? Now you’re getting shy? That’s cute.” His fingers rub your thigh, a deliberate, maddening slowness that makes you want to scream. “Don’t tell me the idea of someone catching us is what’s really got you worked up.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a dizzying mix of arousal and panic swirling in your veins. You’ve never been this close to losing control in public before, and the idea of someone seeing you like this—needy, desperate, coming undone under Matthew’s hands—it sends a jolt of fear straight to your core. Although you’d deny it, there’s a tiny part of you, buried deep, that doesn’t hate it.

“Matthew, I’m serious,” you manage, though your voice is strained, shaky. “We can’t—”

“Oh, now you care about getting caught?” he cuts you off, amusement dripping from every word. “Come on, don’t act like this is the first time we’ve done something reckless. Admit it—you like it.” His hand slips underneath your panties, pressing against the heat there, and your knees nearly buckle. “You like knowing someone might see what a filthy mess you are for me.”

A soft, involuntary whimper escapes your lips, and it’s like throwing gasoline on a fire. His grip tightens, his body pressing harder against yours, pinning you firmly in place. You can feel him—all of him—and it only makes the ache between your legs worse. Your body is betraying you at every turn, no matter how much your mind is screaming at you to stop.

“Filthy mess?” You force out a bitter laugh, your chest heaving, trying desperately to regain some sense of control, but your body is betraying you at every turn. You can feel the wetness between your legs, undeniable, a humiliating testament to just how much he affects you. “Coming from the guy who begged to get his dick sucked the last time? Please. You’re so easy, Matthew. One touch and you’re practically falling apart like a teenager.”

His eyes darken at the insult, that dangerous spark flaring behind them, and you know you’ve hit a nerve. But instead of backing off, he leans in, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks, his breath hot and ragged. “Keep running that mouth, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Your pulse quickens, your stomach twisting at the way his words seep into your skin like venom. You hate that he’s right—hate that he knows exactly how to unravel you with just a few touches, a few sharp words. His hand moves again, slipping further down, his fingers sliding over your slick folds, and you can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes your lips. It’s involuntary, humiliating, and the satisfaction that flickers in his eyes makes your blood boil.

His fingers press harder, slipping inside you, and a sharp jolt of pleasure surges through you, your knees nearly buckling from the intensity of it. You bite your lip, hard, refusing to let him hear how much it affects you, but the way your body trembles against his tells him everything he needs to know.

His lips curl into a wicked smile as he watches you fall apart, his thumb brushing over your clit with a gentle, almost mocking pressure. The sensation sends a sharp jolt of pleasure straight through you, your knees buckling under the weight of it.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You're all bark, no bite. Always talking like you're too good for this, but look at you. Practically fucking yourself on my hand."

Your breath comes in ragged gasps now, your body shaking with the effort to hold back the moans threatening to spill out. The shame and arousal twist together in a tangled mess, leaving you dizzy and disoriented.

“I fucking hate you,” you spit again, but the words sound weak, hollow. You’re losing this battle, and you know it.

“I know, baby,” he coos, his voice soft and patronizing, fingers curling inside you just right, and fuck, you can feel yourself slipping. “You hate me so much you’re about to come on my hand.”

Your vision blurs, the world around you narrowing down to the feel of his fingers, the press of his body against yours, and the way every filthy, degrading word he speaks sends heat pooling low in your belly. You’re so close, teetering on the edge of something dark and all-consuming, and you know—God, you know—you’re not going to last much longer.

But Matthew isn’t done with you. Not yet.

His free hand slides up your body, fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress, tugging it down just enough to expose the curve of your breasts. His mouth is on you in an instant, teeth grazing your skin as he sucks a bruising mark into the delicate flesh. The sensation is enough to send you over the edge, a sharp, desperate moan ripping from your throat as your body convulses around his fingers.

“There it is,” he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he presses you harder against the wall. “There’s my good girl. You can pretend all you want, but this is who you are. Mine.”

The word echoes in your mind, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding, breathless and trembling under the weight of his touch.

“Yes,” you gasp, barely able to form the word, your body still trembling. “Fuck, yes.”

You’re still reeling from the orgasm he ripped out of you, your legs barely able to hold you up as Matthew unbuckles his belt with that smug smirk never leaving his face. The sound of the metal clinking should send alarm bells through your mind, but all you can focus on is the throbbing ache between your legs, the way your body is still trembling in the aftershocks of what just happened. You can feel your own wetness on your thighs, sticky and undeniable, and it’s infuriating how much you want him again already.

Your breath is still ragged, and there’s a knot of panic building in your chest as you realize what’s happening next. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before—Matthew getting you worked up, wrecking you with just his fingers or his mouth, then leaving you raw and aching. But this? This is different. It’s so public, so reckless, and you’re spiraling, caught between the shame and the all-consuming need that makes you feel like you’re drowning.

His hands are rough, impatient as he slides the leather through his belt loops, and the sight of him makes something inside you twist. “What, can’t wait to get your hands on me?” He mocks.

“Shut up,” you snap, the words sharp, but your voice is ragged, breathless. You’re trying so hard to hold onto some semblance of control, but it’s slipping through your fingers faster than you can catch it. “Just—do you have a condom?”

For a second, you think maybe, just maybe, you’ve managed to cut through that smug, self-satisfied exterior. His hand stills on his belt, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you, and then he snorts, a low, condescending sound that makes your stomach twist. “A condom? Really?” He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck as he speaks, voice dripping with arrogance. “I don’t give a fuck.”

You blink, taken aback by how blunt he is. The rational part of your brain is screaming at you to push him away, to tell him to go to hell, but the rest of you—the messy, broken part that always falls for his shit—is already caving. There’s something dangerous about the way he says it, like he knows you won’t stop him. And God, isn’t that the worst part? He’s right.

“Of course, you don’t,” you hiss, trying to muster up some semblance of dignity even as your body betrays you, heat pooling low in your belly again at the thought of what’s coming. “But we both know you don’t want me to have your demon babies.”

His laugh is low, dark, and filled with derision. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, fingers working the zipper of his pants. “You’re still going to let me fuck you raw in this goddamn alley, though.”

Your mouth opens to protest, to tell him he’s wrong, that you’re not some pathetic, needy thing desperate for his attention, but the words die in your throat when his hand slips back under your skirt, gripping your thigh and hooking your leg around his hip–then pushing your panties to the side. You bite back a moan, your body trembling with the need for more, and the smug look on his face tells you he knows exactly how close you are to breaking again.

Before begin to think anything else, he’s lining himself up, his breath hot against your skin, and without warning, he thrusts into you, hard and fast, burying himself to the hilt. The sharp, overwhelming sensation rips through you, a gasp tearing from your throat, and for a moment, all you can feel is him—filling you, stretching you, claiming every inch of space you swore you wouldn’t give him again.

It hurts. It always does with him, at first—he’s too rough, too insistent, too much—but you’ve always liked the pain, haven’t you? That’s the sick, twisted truth of it. The burn, the way he takes without asking, the way he knows exactly how to push you to the brink—it all leaves you breathless, dizzy with need.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying to hold onto something, anything, but you’re unraveling, piece by piece. His hips slam into yours with a brutal, unrelenting pace, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the narrow alleyway. You can feel the dampness of your sweat mixing with the sticky night air, your skin slick against his, and it’s filthy. All of it. Filthy and wrong, but God, it feels so good.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you spit out between breaths, voice trembling from the force of his hips slamming into yours. His pace is punishing, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body, and you can’t help the way your nails dig deeper into his skin, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Matthew grunts in response, his breath ragged against your neck. His lips skim over your ear, and his teeth nip at your skin, making you shiver despite the oppressive heat. “Says the girl getting fucked against a wall like a desperate little slut.” He’s ruthless with his words, throwing them like knives that slice straight through you, but the sharpness only spurs you on.

You bare your teeth and bite down hard on his shoulder, not holding back, feeling the satisfaction of his skin giving way beneath your teeth. It’s a desperate, feral reaction—your body’s twisted way of regaining some control. He hisses, his muscles tensing as your bite sends a shockwave through him. You know it hurts, and you want it to. You want him to feel a fraction of the chaotic mess he’s making of you.

But it only makes him rougher.

His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back hard enough that it stings. “Oh, you like playing rough now, huh?” His voice is a growl, low and dangerous. His grip tightens painfully on your leg as he slams into you harder, forcing you to choke on your next breath. “Biting me, clawing me like a desperate little whore—pathetic. You’re just pissed ‘cause you know how much you want this.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you lie, gasping as another wave of pleasure courses through you, your body responding despite your brain screaming at you to stop. It’s pathetic, truly—how your body betrays you, how you’re falling apart in his hands, coming undone at the same pace that he’s pulling you tighter against him.

He laughs, breathless and cruel. “Liar.” His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, and you’re instantly undone by the sensation, your hips bucking against his despite yourself. “You’re squeezing me so tight, it’s like you’re trying to keep me inside you.” The smugness in his voice makes you want to slap him, but you can’t even think straight, not with his body driving into yours, his fingers working you over like you’re nothing but a puppet on strings.

Your response is unintelligible, more of a broken moan than actual words. You try, desperately, to hold on to some part of yourself, to remember who you are beneath all this anger and lust, but it’s slipping, unraveling with each thrust, with each word he spits at you. Your nails drag down his back again, harder this time, drawing a hiss from his throat, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even falter.

“You can keep trying to hurt me, sweetheart,” he says, voice rough, “but it just makes you tighter for me. Keep going—I can take it.”

You bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood, trying to stop the sounds that are escaping you. The alleyway feels suffocating, the heat of the night clinging to your skin, making everything feel more intense, more raw. The smell of sweat and sex mingles in the air, and you’re hyperaware of every sound—the way your bodies slap together, the wetness between your legs, the soft, desperate gasps that you can’t control.

“You’re going to regret this,” you manage to say, your voice trembling as you try, for the millionth time, to regain some semblance of control. It’s a weak threat, and you both know it. Matthew’s grin stretches wider, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“I’ve never regretted a thing with you,” he growls, his pace quickening. He’s relentless now, hips snapping into you with a force that makes your head spin, his thumb working over your clit faster. "Keep biting, sweetheart," he says through a tight grin, his pace never faltering, "I’ll make you scream for it."

And God help you, you do. Every thrust has you trembling, gasping, barely able to think beyond the white-hot pleasure searing through you. It’s too much, too fast, but you can’t stop yourself—you’re pushing against him, meeting every punishing stroke like you’re trying to match him in this sick, twisted game of dominance.

Your breath hitches, your body arching against his as that familiar, unbearable pressure starts to build low in your belly. You can feel it—feel yourself slipping, unraveling, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. His name slips from your lips, ragged and broken, and you want to hate yourself for how desperate you sound.

"Already?" he taunts, his voice low and dripping with condescension. "Didn’t take long this time, did it? Always so damn easy for me."

"Fuck you," you manage to gasp out, but it’s weak, barely above a whisper, because he’s right. You’re already falling apart around him, your body betraying you in the worst possible way.

"Too late for that," he growls, thrusting into you harder, and the sharp slap of his hips against yours sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you. "You’re already fucked, baby."

And that’s when it happens. That tight, coiling knot inside you snaps, and you fall—hard. Your whole body clenches, thighs shaking as a violent orgasm tears through you, your head tipping back against the brick wall as a choked, guttural moan rips from your throat. You’re shaking, barely able to breathe, and he doesn’t stop. Not even for a second.

Matthew’s grip tightens on your hips, bruising, and he’s still moving, driving into you with a brutal intensity that makes your whole body ache. "God, you’re such a fucking mess," he mutters, his voice rough and breathless, and you can hear the strain in his tone, the way his own release is close, just out of reach.

Your fingers scramble against his back, your nails raking down the muscles there in a desperate attempt to hold on to something solid as your mind spirals. You can feel the raw scratches your nails leave behind, but it’s not enough—it’s never enough to satisfy the gnawing need to make him feel this too. You can feel him, hard and throbbing inside you, and somewhere in the haze of it all, you hear him grunt, low and rough. “Where do you want it, huh?” His voice is breathless, but there’s still that edge of arrogance in it. “Tell me. Where should I come?”

You should tell him to pull out. You should tell him you’re not that stupid, that you know better. But the words that come out of your mouth aren’t the ones you intended.

“Inside,” you gasp, before you can stop yourself. “I don’t care. Just—fuck, Matt, do it. Please.”

His eyes darken at your words, and you swear you feel him twitch inside you, his grip on your hips tightening as he slams into you one more time, burying himself deep. With a rough, guttural groan, he lets go, his body tensing as he spills inside you, the warmth flooding your core in a way that makes your already oversensitive body shudder.

For a moment, neither of you move, both of you breathing hard, the sticky heat of the night settling back in around you. You’re still pressed against the wall, your legs trembling, his body heavy against yours, and for a second, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he’ll say something that makes this less horrible. Maybe he’ll apologize or admit that this is as fucked up for him as it is for you.

"Need a ride home?" he asks, his tone almost casual, like he’s offering you a lift after a night out with friends and not after he just fucked you against a wall without even a second thought.

You blink at him, still too stunned to answer right away. "Are you serious?" you snap, your voice laced with disbelief. "After everything, that’s what you say?"

He shrugs, unbothered by your tone. "What? You wanna walk?" His eyes flick over you, taking in the disheveled state of your dress, your mussed hair, and the bruises already forming on your hips. "Thought you might want to clean up a little before you try to get into an Uber looking like that."

The nerve of him, acting like this was nothing, like he didn’t just wreck you in every possible way. "You’re such a piece of shit," you hiss, shoving him hard in the chest, though it feels more like an afterthought than anything else. You’re drained, physically and emotionally, but of course, Matthew doesn’t care.

He just laughs, low and dark, brushing off the shove like it’s nothing. "Yeah, well, you still let me fuck you, so what does that make you?"

You hate him. You hate him so much you can barely breathe through the anger, but all you can do is be dragged by him out of the alley, with a promise of nothing.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey fanfiction #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk x you #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #florida panthers imagine #mt19 #mt19 x you #mt19 x reader #Spotify

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itspeachyp0p · 7 months

Text

The brainrot I have for tattoo artist! Eren is unreal

Notes. Gender neutral! Reader, suggestive, light smut, MDNI.

Tattoo artist! Eren who keeps a sketchbook, pencils and pens on hand for when he gets a new design idea. He gets inspiration everywhere and has versatile style.

Tattoo artist! Eren who’s wall is covered in the most badass designs mixed with cute ones like Sanrio or Studio Ghibli. If past clients let him he keeps copies of the art to hang up.

Tattoo artist! Eren who has a few old stick and poke tatts littering his skin mixed with the professionally done ones on his arms and right calf.

Tattoo artist! Eren who used to practice doing tattoos on Mikasa and maybe two on Armin before he chickened out. He purposely did a shitty one on Jean after the two had some stupid argument over if the tats Eren did on Mikasa were shit or not.

Tattoo artist! Eren who started flirting with you when you came in to schedule an appointment and was set on getting you in his chair.

Tattoo artist! Eren who chuckled when you're so indecisive about where you want to get inked first and goes over every spot from most painful to least. He even tells you about numbing creams to help.

Tattoo artist! Eren who calms you down when you get nervous on the day you’re getting inked, and pulls a few strings to get the private room for you. "Just take a few deep breaths for me, sweetheart. It won't be so bad" is all he tells you in the gentlest voice when putting his gloves on.

Tattoo artist! Eren who gives your thigh a teasing squeeze, def feeling you up a but masking it as just checking out the area to size your tattoo right. He goes through three size choices, running his latex clad fingers over the skin of your thigh.

Tattoo artist! Eren who’s so damn close to touching your ass as he asks you which size of tat you want and waits so patiently for you to decide.

Tattoo artist! Eren who rubs little circles on your hip to soothe you when you start to cry and say it hurts when the tattoo gun starts etching out the design. "Shh, shh, don't hold your breath. You don't have to watch, just lay there and close your eyes."

Tattoo artist! Eren who tries so hard to distract you with talking, little massages, and even lets you hold onto his arm that's resting on your hip but he's thinking about how pretty you look with tears rolling down your face and wonders if he could make you cry in a different way.

Tattoo artist! Eren who tells you with praises about taking it so well and being good when you say you need a break and teasingly asks if a kiss would make you feel better.

Tattoo artist! Eren who's caught off guard but complies when you say yes and he places a few kisses on your face before asking to kiss you on the lips. If you say yes again, you'll be rewarded with the softest kiss, fleeting to tease but it makes you feel better.

When it's done and wrapped, and aftercare is talked over Tattoo artist! Eren gets your number and a date with you later once you're not sore and hurting.

Tattoo artist! Eren who weeks later is holding the underside of your knees as he fucks you nice and slow on his art table in his apartment, so careful not to dare ruin his ink on your thigh while he ruins you.

Tattoo artist! Eren who gets his own high from making you cry for different reason, servicing all your needs when he comes to your place from a long day. "I know you have one more in you, c'mon sweetheart, cum one more time for me."

Tattoo artist! Eren who would be so jealous if you ever attempted to let someone else do your other tattoos if you want more. He wonders why you would ever consider someone else when he's right there and will do it for you.

Let's be real, we know Eren is a lil possesive, Tattoo artist! Eren kind of thinks of his work on your tattoos as a way to make it clear you're in a relationship. "Someone else?? No, no way, I'll do it. Let me get my stuff and we'll head to the shop."

Reminder that requests are open .ᐟ

#eren jeager x reader #eren jeager #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x you #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #eren jaeger smut #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #writers on tumblr

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cummin-n-cryin · 2 years

Note

Idia x female reader

Where there eating pomegranates and he wonders if she’s sweater then pomegranates?

Fluff to nsfw

Can the reader be a virgin

Sub reader

Soulmate au

~Thank you for your request!

The Sweetest Taste

MINORS / BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Idia Shroud x fem!reader

Tw: lil angst at the beginning, virgin reader no mentions of hymen stuff, Idia is implied to be a virgin, afab reader, NSFW, idk what else

Wordcount: 2,700

Side Note: Sry this took so long! I wasn't quite sure which soulmate au you were talking about as the only one I rly know of is the red string of fate version so I'll be going with that sry. I hope this was ok! (; ^⁠ω⁠^)

~Idia Shroud~

Idia had given up a long time ago on finding his soulmate.

A red string wrapped around his finger. It led off somewhere far into the horizon and on the other end, awaiting him, was supposed to be the love of his life, his soulmate. However, growing up on the Island of Woe, a cold and depressing place where millions of souls are held and where those who to might have once had a red string wrapped around their own finger are now held, it was hard to imagine himself with a lover.

At least until now.

After so many years, he had finally found you or, well, you found him. That red string he's stared at for so long with so much wonder, hope, frustration, and sorrow. Seeing it wrapped around your finger still surprised him whenever he saw it.

It's a little crazy that his soulmate was from a whole other world and ended up getting isekai'd to his. But deep down he was so happy to have you as his. It seems the Fates were kind to him for once...

I mean, who would've thought Idia, the loser, introverted, gamer, otaku, would get a girlfriend? Certainly not Idia! Especially someone so pretty and kind as you were. You were so understanding of him and his social anxiety. You actually listened to what he was saying!

You respected his space and didn't push his boundaries, unlike certain loud extroverts...

Simply put, he was very thankful for you. He was thankful for your kindness, patience, and understanding. He knows he can be difficult to deal with at times and he honestly doesn't think he's that great of a boyfriend with how much time he spends looking at a screen than looking at you.

But you always seem to let him know that it's okay and that your not bothered by it. You love him and his awkward self! It's just one of the many reasons you've fallen in love with him after all. He's you're cute, weirdo, gamer boyfriend and you love everything about him~

He couldn't help the blush that would bloom across his face whenever you said such kind things like that to him. His hair glowing a soft pink to match. Though, in the moment, he could only stutter an awkward thank you in response. Later however, when you weren't in his room with him, he couldn't help but to remember your words, becoming giddy as his heart grew warm thinking about it.

You were so nice to him. He really didn't think he deserved someone so amazing as you.

It was during one of his many gaming sessions that you came inside his room with a surprise for him.

He had put his controller down deciding to take a quick snack break only to turn around and let out a high-pitched scream. He was so distracted by his game that he didn't hear you come in.

After an awkward moment where he apologized for screaming and you lightly laughed at him, you finally presented your gift to him.

A pomegranate...

Idia was quiet for a few moments. Listening to you talk about how you found it and how you wanted to eat some of it with him.

He couldn't help but wonder, did you know about the story surrounding the pomegranate? You probably didn't, considering you were from another world...

You definitely didn't know, right?

I mean, why would you? This was just a simple gift! Yeah, that's all.. heh...

Of course, Idia wouldn't deny your request to eat the pomegranate together. After all, he was a bit hungry.

Not wanting to awkwardly sit in silence while eating, you both struck up a conversation. You asked him about the game he was playing which led him into a very lengthy explanation of the game, it's lore, and the characters. After he realized how long he was talking for he apologized. You simply laughed it off calling him cute as you told him about your day and the shenanigans Grim had put you through.

He only pretended to listen as you spoke. It wasn't because he was disinterested in what you were saying! It was just that he couldn't stop thinking about why you wanted to eat a pomegranate with him..

He couldn't help but think about the story of Persephone and Hades. How with each seed eaten was a month that Persephone had to spend with Hades. In a weird way, he thought this was kinda like that. Only..

You both had almost eaten the entire thing...

It made him think about how many months that would be. How many months you'd have to spend with him. Willingly of course! He'd never force you to do anything.

But, it made him realize that he really would like to spend the rest of his life with you. And as he watched you put another seed into your mouth, it only confirmed his thoughts.

He was so entranced by the way your lips moved as you spoke and ate more and more of the pomegranate. Before he realized what he was doing he was leaning closer to you.

Every time he saw you put another seed into your mouth it felt like a silent promise to stay with him and the thought that you would like to spend the rest of your life with him made his chest grow warm.

As he subtly moved closer to you, the thought of your lips overwhelmed his thoughts and he couldn't help but to think of what your lips tasted like. Would they taste like the pomegranate you both have been eating or perhaps even sweeter?

Well, he didn't wait for the answer. As once you seemed to notice just how close he was to you, he finally leaned in and kissed you.

His lips gently pressed against yours and he got his answer.

You tasted much sweeter.

A new kind of warmth bloomed within him as he pulled away from you. But it was quickly drowned out as he suddenly realized what he had done. He became frightened of your possible reaction. Though you only smiled before trying to pull him back to kiss him again.

The warmth returned as kiss after kiss was shared between you two. It was a bit awkward as you both tried to figure out what you two liked.

Soon Idia became bolder. His hands trailed down your arms. Using his left hand, he lightly grabbed the hem of your shirt playing with the fabric.

He pulled away from your lips. If the warmth in his skin and the heat traveling to his pelvis were anything to go by, he knew he wanted to go further. But, he wasn't going to do anything you weren't okay with.

Growing nervous, he tried to form the words in his mouth, "Do you.. Uh- Do you want to?" He murmured as he continued to play with the hem of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers as he tried to calm himself down.

Thankfully, it seems you understood what he was trying to ask. You were quiet for a few moments as you thought about it. You then responded, "I would like to but.. I've never done this before."

You're.. Oh...

"That's okay! Um- here you just lay down and I'll do the rest okay?"

You paused for a moment before nodding laying back onto his bed.

Shit... Maybe he should have thought about this more. He'll need to remember every romance manga and hentai he's read! There must be something in there that can help him! He just needs to calm down and think.

Right, he can do this! He can do this!

Taking in a breath to calm himself down, he went back to what he was doing before. Running his hands across your body he leaned down to kiss you again.

He almost moaned at the feeling of your lips against his. He didn't think he'd miss them so quickly. After a few moments, he pulled away from the kiss gripping the hem of your shirt again. This time though, he started to drag your shirt upward. You shuffled around to help get the shirt off and....

Yeah, those mangas aren't gonna help him here. Seeing you topless was something he would only dream about, as shameful as it was to admit. Now that he's actually doing this though, it's much more nerve-wracking than he thought it would be.

He just needs to relax, to keep breathing and not let his anxiety get to him. So he continued. Growing a bit more bold he ran his hands up your torso ending just at the bottom of your bra and running back down to your stomach.

He reached the hem of your pants. Grabbing it before deciding to pull that off of you. With new skin revealed, he touched you as he admired you. He never believed that someone so beautiful could ever love him.

Not wanting to leave you uncomfortable, he took off his own clothes. Pulling off his shirt and pants, he was left in just his boxers.

He looked back down at you and seeing the look of adoration in your eyes he became more confident in his actions. Reaching up, he fumbled with the bra clasp before finally getting it off.

Seeing your tits he went and grabbed them. The sound you made as he lightly squeezed them made his dick throb. Wanting to hear more, he leaned down and put one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it as his hand played with your other breast.

He felt like he was slowly losing control. Lust clouding his mind, he couldn't stop himself from lightly rocking into you as he fondled and squeezed your breasts. He was heating up more and more and your mewls and gasps only encouraged him further.

Eventually, he grew impatient. His cock was fighting for its life in his boxers and it was starting to hurt. His mouth made a popping noise as he pulled away from your breast. Reaching down towards his boxers he started to grow nervous again. His hands shook a bit as he grabbed his boxers and pulled them off, freeing his aching cock.

Reluctantly, he looked up to see your reaction. You stared at him with curiosity and his face grew red from nervousness. Taking in a deep breath he tried to forget you were looking at him.

He reached up to your underwear and with your help, pulled the fabric off of you. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of your pussy. He knew that he needed to prepare you properly first before he could stick his dick in you. Luckily with him being a sad little gamer boy, he just so happened to have what he needed.

Getting up he went to a drawer and quickly searched through it. When he saw your confused expression he reassured you, giving you an awkward smile as he continued rummaging through the drawer. After a moment, he found what he was looking for, a bottle of lube and a condom.

Quickly, he made his way back over to you. Sitting on the bed, he settled himself between your legs. He opened the bottle, pouring some of the slick liquid onto his hand before setting the bottle on the floor nearby. He took in another breath as he reached down and touched you.

You let out a soft moan as he touched you. Feeling a bit braver from the positive reaction he continued, stroking your folds and rubbing your clit. He eventually found your entrance, poking and prodding before he stuck a finger in, feeling around your wet walls. He soon added another finger, scissoring your insides. Feeling your warm wet walls squeeze around his fingers made him eager to know what you'd feel like around his aching cock.

After a while of scissoring you and applying lube when needed, he looked up to see your face. Your eyes opened and closed as you softly moaned. Seeing you so blissed out because of him made Idia's dick pulse. He needed to be inside you so badly.

He grabbed the condom, tore it open and put it on his dick. He picked up the lube again pouring some on his hand he then tossed it aside before covering his dick in the liquid. He positioned himself near your entrance. Hearing a gasp from you he quickly looked up at your face.

You wore a worried expression on your face. Idia growing concerned asked, "If you want me stop I will. W- we don't have to go farther if you don't want to..." The last thing he wanted was to make this a bad experience for you.

You took a breath before responding, "Please keep going.. Just be careful, okay?"

"Of course, anything for you." Idia leaned down softly kissing you before he lined up with your entrance again.

Slowly, trying to be as careful as he could, he sunk into you. Inch by inch his hard cock settled into you. Idia gasped and let out a low moan as he felt your warm walls squeeze around his cock. The feeling was overwhelming, much better then anything he could have imagined within his own mind.

All those times he shamefully fantasized about having his dick inside you, hearing your cries and moans as he fucked you, could never compare to this.

Still, being as careful as he could, he continued. Whenever you made a noise of pain he stopped, waiting for your cue to continue moving again. Eventually, with enough time and patience he had fit his entire dick inside you.

He shuddered, knowing that after so long of you two being together he now had his dick inside you, inside his soulmate. He waited till you had adjusted to his size. You moved around a bit and after a few moments you had nodded at him to try moving.

He slowly dragged himself back, his cock rubbed against your walls and you both moaned at the feeling. Slowly he continued, pushing in then pulling out again. Eventually, the pain subsided and in between your moans you cried out, asking him to move faster.

Thrusting his cock in and out of you, listening to your gasps and moans as he fucked you made him feel euphoric. He lost himself in the feeling of your slick walls tightly squeezing around his cock. He felt like he couldn't stop himself.

His pace growing faster and faster, he grabbed your legs lifting them up to his waist, feeling you wrap your legs across his back, he held your hip with one of his hands putting his other hand on the bed to steady himself. With your hips raised more it made it much easier for him to quickly thrust his cock in and out of you.

The feeling of your walls would soon become too much for him. As Idia neared his climax, he moved his hand from your hip to your clit, rubbing you quickly. You're walls squeezed tightly around him and with a cry you came around his cock. With only a few more thrusts he came as well.

Panting as he came down from his high, Idia pulled out of you and after throwing away the condom he flopped next to you on the bed. He was tired. His eyes closed and he could feel you moving around.

His hand suddenly felt warm. Opening his eyes, he saw you were holding his hand, interlocking your fingers with his, you smiled at him. He observed your interlocked hands seeing the red string entangled between them. He then smiled back as he leaned over and kissed you. Even now you still tasted sweet.

"Well.. how was it?" Idia whispered quietly to you, growing anxious.

"It was amazing Idia." You whispered back to him as you hugged him.

You both continued to hold each other as you two soon fell into the depths of sleep. Idia was glad that you seemed satisfied. He was happy to have a soulmate so beautiful and kind as you were.

You really were just as sweet as you tasted.

#twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #tw afab

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talaok · 10 months

Text

Hot teach

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: you force Joel to go ice-skating

Warnings: none I think, just Joel being a touchy menace

A/n: I'm not gonna lie, I wrote this mostly for myself cause I went icekating today and a girl is obsessed and I couldn't help but wonder how it would have been with my man. also i do be a lil bit tipsy so forgive me if this isn't really all that great, i just wanted to write something cute to daydream about when im falling asleep

"oh c'mon babe you're not even trying!" you laughed, watching as he gripped the banister for dear life

"I am, trust me I am, this thing it's just hard" he grunted, almost falling in the process of trying to look at you

"Joel Miller" you stated, moving so you were in front of him "You've done harder things in your life" you said, raising an eyebrow, "now c'mon, take my hands and get away from there"

He sighed, looking down at those deathly ice skates attached to his feet

"darlin' if I die 'cause of this I'll be real mad"

"you won't die" you chuckled, holding out your hands for him "now c'mon, hold onto me"

And with great difficulty, and very very slowly, he managed to do it, he was finally away from the edge of the skate rink.

"there, see, wasn't that hard"

"I wouldn't say that exactly"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Now just like I taught you: bend your knees, then lift one foot, and try to gly"

You watched as he just stood there, looking at you uncertainly

"I'll be here the whole time, I won't let go" you promised, trying to calm his nerves

"sweetheart I don't know if I'm cut out for this type of stuff"

You smiled, reducing the distance between you

"You can do it, baby" you murmured, kissing his cheek "Just give it a try, trust me"

And so he did, almost falling, but he did nonetheless.

"there" you grinned "that was good"

"you ain't gotta lie now doll" he shook his head "Those kids over there are doing better than me" he joked, his eyes going to a group of 10-year-olds to your right

You couldn't help but laugh

"I meant for the first try" you explained "You just need a little practice"

That's how the next half hour passed: practicing.

He kept holding onto you as you skated backward to follow his movements while he moved towards you, and with time, he was even able to skate by your side, his hand still in yours and at a speed slower than a turtle's, but still, it was definitely an improvement.

Convincing him to go ice skating with you hadn't been an easy task, but (as always) you had done it. I mean, it was almost Christmas and they had built a big ice skating ring so close to your house, what else were you supposed to do but drag him to it?

"you're basically a professional" You smiled as you took a break, holding on to the edge of the rink

"absolutely" he laughed "I'm sure that kid I almost killed while falling would also agree"

"Oh yes" you giggled "I'm sure he would"

A moment passed, as you let the sound of laughter and Christmas music flow into your ears

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he murmured, his hand now holding your waist and making you face him

"where's that coming from?" you smiled, raising your hand to fix his hair, just for it to fall to his shoulder

"I've been thinking it all day, I was just a little preoccupied before"

"is that right?"

"sure is" he smirked, the distance between you now completely gone "You're hot when you teach me stuff, y'know?"

You laughed "Oh yeah?"

"yeah" he breathed, ghosting his lips "I've got the most gorgeous teacher in the world," he said, a moment before kissing you, like really kissing you, like it didn't matter that people and kids were all around you type of kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as his hands traveled lower to find your ass through your jeans.

"I know what you're doing mister" you purred, leaving a quick kiss on his lips again

"oh yeah and what's that?" he asked, not giving you time to answer before he was devouring you again, his tongue exploring your mouth ever so heavenly

"I'm sorry to break it to you Miller, but you aren't gerring out of this so easily" you smiled, crushing all his hopes "We've paid for another hour, and I'm not letting it go to waste"

"sugar c'm-"

"don't even try baby" You shook your head, leaving a soft kiss on his reddened nose "you still have a lot of practice to do" you smirked, "but hey at least you've got a hot teach"

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poetryandfluffycats · 1 month

Note

Hi! Can I request a one shot with an afab!reader riding sub!himeru while praising and being all sweet and comforting because he was stressed? Thank you in advance 💕

A/N: HELLO OKAY never in my life did i think id write this much for himeru of all people but uh, it is what it is i guess?? i went off the rails with plot

Pairing: HiMERU x fem!reader

Content: As Crazy:Bs producer, you have lots of duties that tire you out so when your day off does cone you look forward to taking a much needed nap. The world has unfortunately got other plans for you, however.

Warnings: NSFW, porn with plot, dry humping, oral over clothes(m receiving), riding, kind of sub himeru, minimal amount of biting, messy making out, shared orgasms, mentions of depressive tenancies, rinne + niki have screentime, lots of praise and comfort, ooc himeru(?) he breaks character like once

Words: 5.6k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Ring, ring, ring. The phone stored safely in your pocket was vibrating, alerting you to the incoming call you were receiving. With a sigh, you stopped in your tracks and pulled out the device to check the caller ID.

A part of you hoped it was a scam caller rather than a member of the unit you produced. Not that you didn't like speaking to the members of Crazy:B, you enjoyed their company more than anything! The reason was that today was your off day and you had hoped to spend it catching up on your missed class work and then sleeping for the rest of the afternoon, not dealing to whatever new problem the boys had encountered.

Luck wasn't on your side today, unfortunately. The caller ID read 'Rinne Amagi', the smirk of the infamous redheaded idol staring you down through his contact photo, as if taunting you to get ready for whatever nonsense was about to spill from his mouth.

Another, much longer, sigh left your throat as you tapped the answer button. Duty calls, you supposed. Surely whatever he wanted couldn't have been too hard for you to handle. "Hello?"

"(name)! My dearest lil' producer, hows ya day off? Doin' alright without me? Missin' my handsome face?" Rinnes voice was as smug and as loud as ever through the speaker, so much so that you found yourself pulling your phone away from your ear so you didn't go completely deaf.

His cheeky tone didn't go unnoticed by you, and you let out a scoff at his sheer childishness. "Fine, yes, and no. Don't butter me up, what do you want?"

"Straight to the point, I like that in a woman!" There was a laugh cut off by a loud cough and 'ahem', Niki most likely, before the man on the other end continued speaking. "Ah, well, ya see. HiMERU didn't show up to practice today, and he ain't answering when we call"

Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull you nearly saw your brain. Of course on the only day you had off in forever would be the day Rinne decided to come and give you an unskipable side quest. And for such a mundane task as well, something he could have easily done himself if he bothered to get off his ass. Seriously, how typical.

"We were hopin' ya could go and get 'im for us? Since ya know, yer the most wonderful producer in the whole world and ya love me so much"

"Sure I do... and why can't you go get him?"

"I got shit to do! Leader stuff, important stuff! Ya wouldn't understand. I'm real hard at work here-ow! Niki! Stop hittin' me dammit! That fuckin' hurt! Whatdaya mean 'don't cuss'? She ain't a baby!"

The line went silent for a few seconds, the only sounds going between the two of you being the muffled groans and slaps of Rinne and Niki fighting like toddlers. You swore you could also hear Kohakus sighs of disappointment from across the practice room.

It was a mintute or two before Rinne came back on the line, breathing heavier than usual and voice more strained. Niki 1, Rinne 0. "Got no time left ta talk! Go find that bastard and bring 'im back here, alright? I'm countin' on ya!"

"Wait, I never said I would-"

"Fuck! Shit! Niki, let go of my phone! No! Don't bite me!"

"(name)? Its Niki! I'll make you dinner if you go and get HiMERU-"

"NIKI!"

Click, line dead.

Your phone screen was now black, Rinnes smirking face replaced by your dumbfounded reflection staring back at you. Typical of you to become involved in Crazy:Bs shenanigans even when you weren't in the same room as them. That nap you had longed so gracelessly for was seemingly drifting further and further from your grasp, all thanks to the laziness of your idols. How wonderful

No use trying to escape your faith now, unless you wanted to endure the wrath of the group when they forgot the routine for the next live due to not practising at all. You did a 180 turn on your heels and began walking back in the direction of the dorms. When people asked what you did on your day off, maybe you could say you exercised?

/----------

"HiMERU? Are you in there? The guys want you at practice"

HiMERUs apartment door stared you down like a lion stalking its pray, mocking you like this was some sort of sick game. "Gonna come in?" It seemed to ask, or maybe that was just some voices in your head, "or are you just gonna stand there like a weirdo?"

You'd really outdone yourself this time. Half an hour later and you had searched half the school for the blue haired man. Before coming to his doorstep you had come to two different conclusions to his absence. Either, he had gained the ability to teleport and was somewhere on the moon, or, he had died and you had lost one of your best idols. The former, unlikely, but knowing the strange man HiMERU was it wasn't entirely impossible. The latter? You sure hoped not.

Despite your wishes of being able to go home and take a well deserved nap, you held your hand in a fist and knocked on the door once more, louder and harder this time. "I swear to God if you don't open this door I will break it down HiMERU! This is ridiculous! I could have been relaxing right now if it wasn't for you!"

As you spoke, there was a shuffling sound from inside the room, accompanied by a few soft thump-thumps of feet against the floor. Finally, the door opened, revealing the man you had been searching for.

"You are giving HiMERU a headache"

HiMERU stood before you in all his glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and a long sleeved shirt that due to the nature of his pants, showed off his mid-drift. Blue hair was a flattened mess atop his head, and you noted that he looked far less formal than usual. You had to mentally slap yourself before you stared for too long. "(name), you are aware you are not a wild animal, correct? HiMERUs door does not require barking to open"

"Practice, now. I don't care if you've got a headache or if you're in a mood, Rinne wants you there now" You ignored his snide remark, crossing your arms over your chest in attempt to look more authoritative. It didn't seem to work all that well, however, as HiMERUs facial expression remained unchanged.

"What if HiMERU had a lady friend over? Or perhaps a gentleman friend? Such loud noise would have disturbed imitate times with a special friend. What if HiMERU had been having some fun with his body?"

The urge to punch the man in front of you was stronger than ever before. Was he really trying to gaslight you into believing that he couldn't practice because he had been having sex? HiMERU of all people? You doubted he even had a dick, let alone someone to get it wet. Anyone else, sure, you could believe that. Not HiMERU, no matter how good looking the media made him out to be he was still a whackjob. Whackjobs didn't have sex.

"Were you?"

"No. HiMERU was reading a nice book and drinking some lovely herbal tea, he was simply making a point that you should be more considerate of others"

"I don't care-"

"You don't care about HiMERU? How crude, is this how CosPro treats its idols now? HiMERU will not be attending practice, he has other duty's to attend too"

The audacity of this man. Here you were, trying to be as nice as possible, just trying to get him to do his job, and he can't even do that! How much of an ego could one man have? Sure, you weren't perfect yourself, but at least you did what was expected of you, like right now even when you weren't meant to be working!

You could feel a vein pulsating in your forehead, your patience wearing thinner and thinner by the second. If you had to stand here for any long, you swore you would explode in several tiny pieces. You had to keep your composer if you wanted to keep your job, however, so you chose to remain silent instead of ripping him a new one. You narrowed your eyes at him, shooting lazer beams through his body with your pupils, praying to whatever God was out there that it would scare him into listening to you.

HiMERU seemed to get the memo, finally, his lips forming into a massive pout that nearly hit the floor, a bad look on the usually stoic idol you noted. "As you wish, producer. Please, come inside and wait whilst HiMERU gets ready" He moved out of the way of the door, outstretching his arm in invitation for you to come inside.

You took the invitation, kicking your shoes off and bowing your head slightly as you walked inside. You had never been inside HiMERUs apartment before, besides on the off occasion when you dropped him off. Considering who HiMERU was, a prim and proper diva who seemed to think he was far better than you, you fully expected for his apartment to match his personality. Clean, neat, not a speck of dirt on the ground. Maybe a few plants here and there, real plants that were watered everyday and cared for to the full extent.

As you soon came to realise, you had been wrong. Dead wrong.

"Holy shit..."

HiMERUs apartment was the polar opposite of what you thought it would be. The lights were off, curtains pulled shut, and a musky smell of tea bags long gone cold lingered in the air. A messily made futon laid out in the middle of the floor, blankets and pillows thrown atop it like it was a fort for children rather than a grown mans bed. Finishing touches to the pigsty of a room were the dirty clothes scattered across the floor-some of which resembling his idol uniform, but you couldn't quite tell through the mess-and a book opened in the middle of the floor.

"HiMERU would prefer if you kept your opinions to yourself" His monotone voice hissed from behind you, a sigh evident in his words. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like, be careful not to trip on anything"

How could he be so relaxed? You'd been in many idols rooms before, seen many of them doing things you hadn't expected before, some of which made you want to bleach your eyes out thinking back at them. But none of them had ever been this messy, you didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or just stand there in shock.

"I... huh? Is it always like this?" You squeaked out, eyes trained on HiMERU as he walked past you and into the kitchen, picking up a mug from the counter and taking a long sip.

"No, not usually" He admitted, leaning down with his elbows against the countertop and staring at you with that unreadable expression of his. Dead cold blue eyes trailed up and down your figure, and you almost felt as if he were dissecting your soul. "Does it bother you? Are you offended? Does mess make you upset? Are you going to cry?"

"What? No!" You shook your head. "I'm just surprised is all"

"A crying woman in HiMERUs home, that would be a sight to behold, wouldn't it? Please, sit down, HiMERU will be ready in a moment"

You were at a complete loss for words. The longer you spent with HiMERU the more he confused you, like a never ending puzzle that only got harder the more you tired to solve it, or a board game where every round new rules that contradicted the old rules were added. Was there even a word to describe such a man? A person whose identity was so clouded and muddled it was impossible to grasp them?

Trying to guess what HiMERU was thinking about at any given time made you want to jump off a cliff, live, and then jump off another cliff for good measure. You were going to get Rinne back for this, he owed you big.

Taking a seat on the floor next to his futon, you crossed your legs over one another and watched as the blue haired man pottered around his dorm. He seemed to be moving in a daze, similar to a zombie or a sleepwalker. He would take a sip of tea for a moment, then stop to put away a dish, then drink some more tea, then inspect one of the plants on the counter, then back to his tea, repeat until you found yourself even further in bewilderment.

"You're weird" You commented, resting your chin on your knees and bouncing your heels up and down. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what, (name)?" HiMERU raised an eyebrow, finishing off his tea and placing his mug in thesink, now moving to rummage through a pile of clothes.

"I don't know, like... drugged or something? Like a dead man walking? Stranger than usual I guess" Your eyes darted from him to the book laying on the ground. It was a normal looking book, white cover with some black writing on it, thick but still slim enough to be a causal read. "Do you like reading?"

A small laugh came from HiMERUs lips at the question. "That book is not very good. The information inside is not factual and rather silly, things about mediation and healing your inner child. An interesting read, but a waste of HiMERUS time. He does not believe in those things"

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows now. "Then why buy the book?"

"HiMERU has had a rough week, he wanted to indulge in some self-care. Alas, you and your begging interrupted him"

You had half a mind to snap at him for that comment, but you bit your own tongue before the insults could come pouring out, instead opting to obverse his actions. Having been in the industry for awhile, you were aware of the basic signs of burnout, and HiMERU was the poster child for it

Dark circles under his eyes, sluggish movement, a general state of being out-of-character, the sudden urge to skip training and sleep instead. It wasn't unusual for idols to suffer from fatigue and stress, it came with the job after all, but HiMERU had never been one to let his emotions get in the way of work. For him to be this out of it, it was concerning to say the least.

"Are you okay?"

HiMERU froze mid action, hands hovering over a t-shirt in the pile of clothes, staring at you like you'd just asked for a thousand dollars. "Excuse me?"

"I asked if you were okay, are you?" You stood up from your spot on the floor, brushing the dirt from your pants as you slowly approached him, snatching the book from the ground and reading over the blurb. "I didn't take you as the type to read these types of books, you must be really stressed to pick this up"

"Before you were yelling at HiMERU to go to practice, now you are acting concerned for him? HiMERU said, he has had a tough week, that is all"

"There has to be some way I can help you. Look, you don't have to go if you don't want to, I'll tell Rinne you were feeling ill" You opened up the book, scanning through the pages and reading over some of the content.

The language was a tad confusing, obviously made by someone with a higher knowledge in psychology than you, but it was still readable. "Some of this actually looks helpful, maybe we should try some of it? Like, I could give you a massage, or I could-"

"Turn to page 77, please"

You nodded, turning to the page in question. On top of the page were two separate drawings, one a diagram of a mans body and the other a sketch of a man and a woman in the classic missionary position. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment at the images, but continued on reading the page. Underneath the drawings were a few paragraphs of text, some certain words having arrows pointing to different parts of the pictures.

Taking a large gulp, you shut the book and looked back up at HiMERU, pupils wide as plates from what you just read. You noticed that he was closer now, only a few mere inches away from your body. Had be always been this tall, this handsome? You couldn't recall.

"HiMERU? I don't understand, these are pornographic, what are you talking about?-"

"Page 77, healing through sex. It says here that orgasms can be a natural stress reliever, and that regular intercourse is healthy for a persons body and mind" One hand came up to brush your cheek, thumb stroking up and down in a way that made your heart flutter, "You wish for HiMERU to go to practice, yes? Then he expects something in return"

His lips were on yours before you had time to blink. You dropped the book in your hands, it hitting the ground with a loud 'bang!' and laying open on page 77. Wet lips moved against your own, hand the once stroked your cheek now moving downwards to grip your waist, spinning the two of you around to press you against the countertop.

What little emotion HiMERU showed in his face, his kiss made up for. It was filled with desire, passion, lust, all the things that were so silent but still screamed the same three words. 'I want you'.

He pulled away before you had a chance to deepen the kiss, the both of you panting with your lips swollen and glossy with each other's saliva. A lewd sight, sure, but who else was there to see? No one, just the two of you in the dimly lit apartment.

"HiMERU-no, I need you to help me. Please, please help me" His voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him. His desperation was all the same, however, and it was enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "I don't like to beg, you know, but you're making me lose it"

If you had have been standing on a tightrope, that would have been what broke the string holding you up. Those damn eyes, once filled like a endless void of indifference now spilling with want and need, the need for you to make him feel good, the need for you to relieve his tension by fucking him. How could you deny him?

"Let's move to the futon, yeah?" You pecked his lips once more, watching as his eyes lit up like a puppies. "We can take it slow, if you'd like"

The smile that overtook HiMERUs face almost made your heart burst wide open. "Yes... thank you, (name)"

You wiggled out of his hold, taking his hand and guiding him slowly to the futon on the floor. He sat down first, scooting backwards until he was sat just below the pillow, stretching his legs outwards to allow you to climb in between his legs and straddle him.

It was a position you never thought you'd find yourself in, and yet here you were, tugging at the hem of HiMERUs shirt and pulling it over his head. The skin underneath was pale and cold to the touch, causing goosebumps to creep up your arms. You ran your fingertips up and down his chest, lingering on the dip of his collarbone and the ridges of his ads. They were only little, like tiny hills on the plains of his over wise flat stomach, but they were sexy all the same.

HiMERU watched you with half-lidded eyes, glazed over and unfocused. His lips stayed parted, a whine leaving his throat each time your fingers traced over his skin. You leaned down to kiss him again, this time wasting no time in plunging your tongue straight inside the wetness of his mouth, sucking on his own tounge and feeling around on the inside of his cheeks.

HiMERUs hips buckled upwards to meet yours, earning a moan from you and a louder whine from him. His sweatpants strained with the growing budge in his crotch, poking against your thigh and leaving a small wet patch on your skin from the pre-cum leaking through. He must have been super desperate.

"(name)~" HiMERU whimpered as you pulled away, a sticky line of spit still connecting the two of you. You licked the excess saliva from your lips whilst a grin spread wide across your face. "Please, (name). HiMERU would you to-ah!-"

His pleas quickly transformed into moans as you rolled your hips against his, savouring in the pleasure of your clothed crotch rubbing on his now fully erect cock, The friction was like heaven, and the fabric of your shorts didn't do much to hide the wetness gushing out from your panties. You'd probably need to buy new ones after this, you thought, but that was a problem for future you.

HiMERUs hands flew up to hold your waist, guiding you backwards and forwards over his budge and rutting his hips in time with yours, the two of you humping like horny dogs in heat. A light pink flush had spread all the way from his cheeks to his ears, down his neck and even to the tips of his shoulder blades, the most sinful look of pleasure on his face as he threw his head back on the pillow.

"Do you like when I do this? You seem to be really enjoying yourself" You cooed, leaning down to suck a lovebite onto the underside of his jaw. "You're pretty, you know? Real pretty, real handsome for me"

The only response you got from HiMERU was another moan, louder and raspier than the others. The sounds made you clench around thin air and your thighs quiver with anticipation. Each time your core met his covered tip you could feel him twitch and throb beneath you, and every time the feeling had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Like an awaiting forest fire, the atmosphere was getting hotter by the second, the heat of both your body's pressed together creating a sensation indescribable.It was the most bliss you had ever experienced and you were yet to even be undressed. You were panting, HiMERU was panting, sweat was forming on your forehead and dripping down onto HiMERUS bare chest.

"More, HiMERU wants more" The man below you whined, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips to leave tiny marks for later. "HiMERU wants you to fuck him, don't make him-augh!-say it again!"

"Fuck.." You breathed, bracing yourself by placing your palms flat against his chest. You lifted your hips up, giving the both of you a short break to catch your breath before you reached downwards to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants. With a tiny bit of a struggle they were off, revealing the dark blue boxers beneath that were nearly bursting from the strain of his erection. He was huge. Certainly bigger than you had seen in porn anyway. "I-, fuck"

Your loss for words assumed HiMERU, who took a deep, shaky exhale before speaking again, that desperate tone still clear as day in his voice. "Are you impressed? Is HiMERU that big?"

"Yeah... it is. I can't wait to have it inside me"

You purred out your words, moving down to rest on his thighs rather than his hips, your face in eye-line with his throbbing budge when you leaned down. The entire front of the fabric was wet with pre-cum, it having spread all over the area due to his impossibly long length. Your lips came into contact with the tip, your tongue swirling around and lapping up the sticky stains.

It pulsated at your touch. HiMERU let out a groan of pleasure as you continued your ministrations, kissing, licking, and sucking him through the thin cotton. One vein that you could feel was particularly sensitive, causing HiMERU to basically jump each time you grazed your teeth over it.

"Wait! No, stop! HiMERU will cum if you keep doing that!" The bluenette suddenly cired out, his legs kicking you in the sides as he tired to pull you off. Of course, you obliged, but not without giving one last farewell lick to his tip. You sat up on his thighs and tilted your head to the side, studying his expressions carefully and awaiting his next words. "HiMERU would like to cum inside. He thinks that would be the best way to get rid of his stress, not finishing in his pants like a pathetic teenage boy"

You nodded, "so you want me to...?"

"Sit on it" You'd never seen HiMERUs puppy dog eyes until now. There was such a longing in them, desires hidden in the ocean of his irises that only you could bring out in the moment. "Ride HiMERU, use him like a chair. HiMERU just wants to feel you"

Denying him would be a criminal felony. Climbing back to straddle his hips once more, you grabbed a hold of his waistband, gently pulling it downwards to finally free his cock from its confinements. Once the fabric was completely removed and his cock had sprung free you tossed the underwear away somewhere in the room to be dealt with later.

To say the least, HiMERU was large. Slender, and long, with balls that were tight and full against his shaft, pent up and waiting to be emptied inside your cunt.

The vein you had been nibbling on was a blue colour that rivalled his hair and ran down and up the underside of his cock, stopping just below his head. Speaking of the head, it was glowing red, dripping with arousal. You were pround of yourself for having caused that kind of reaction, especially when it came from an idol you knew as emotionless and cold hearted. Your own heart pounded inside your ribcage as you began to strip yourself down. You tired to make a show of it, pulling your shirt over your head in slow movements that you prayed to God looked seductive rather than silly.

As if he could read your mind, "You look beautiful" HiMERU barely whispered the words, but they were still heard all the same by you. You thought he might be staring at your breasts, or at the spot between your legs as you removed your shorts and panties, but no. Instead of your body, his blue gaze was solely fixated on your face.

"Thank you, you are too. Beautiful, I mean" A small smile graced your face as you thanked him. With your shorts now gone and your pussy exposed to the air, you lifted your hips once more, slinging your entrance with the very tip of HiMERUS cock. "Are you ready?"

"HiMERU has been called many things before when he has been stressed. Annoying. Selfish. A nuisance. Never beautiful"

You didn't have much time to respond, or even react to his comment before a hand was on your shoulder, pushing you down and impaling you on his cock. It hurt, but not in the way that made you want to scream and cry, but more so in the way that made your walls clench around him, your eyes roll into the back of your head and your toes curl in your socks.

He filled you up to the brim, tip poking against your cervix and each vein and ridge moulding your walls into the prefect fit for him. A raspy whimper left your throat as you adjusted to his size. HiMERU allowed you to take your time despite the twitch of his hips just begging for any sort of friction, instead opting to rub gentle shapes into your shoulders while the both of you huffed and heaved.

"HiMERU is sorry, he couldn't help himself" HiMERUs lust clouded eyes avoided your own, staring at the wall behind you instead. "You won't judge HiMERU if he finishes early, will you?"

You shook your head, grinding down on his pelvis to give him and yourself some of that desperately needed pleasure. "Not at all. You're amazing, so good. You fill me so well, I don't think I'll last long either. And even if we don't, we can always go again"

A faint nod from HiMERU was all you needed before you lifted your hips, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself as you released him from your velvet walls, leaving only the tiniest amount of the tip in before slamming your hips back down. A loud "plop!" was made as your body smashed against his, the heat from your shared arousals filling your brain with no thoughts other than HiMERU.

HiMERU. HiMERU. HiMERU. HiMERU!

You set a gentle, but fast pace, bouncing your hips up and down in smooth rhythm, sounds of your wet cunt squelching and sloshing mixing in with the groans leaving HiMERUs lips. Him inside you felt like heaven. Hot and sweaty heaven. Your walls dragged along his cock like the prefect fleshlight, sending waves of electrical pleasure down his spine and all the way to the very tips of his toes.

Althought a little bit more stable, you were in a similar state to HiMERU. Each time you slammed back down onto him it felt as if all the nerves in your body were being twisted, pulled, and knotted in a way that had that oh so familiar warmth beginning to pool in your belly.

Praises spilled from your mouth, coating the inside of HiMERUs brain with words of encouragement and affection rather than whatever he had been feeling before. Right now, in this moment, you would have been lying if you said you didn't care for him, and not just in the way you would care for the other idols of Crazy:B.

One particularly hard bounce had you crying out, "HiMERU! H-hey, you know your a good boy right? So good to me, gonna make me cum, huh? You wanna cum too? I wanna see your pretty face when you're filling me up"

HiMERU only grunted in response, but you could tell your words had worked when he started thrusting his hips to meet yours. You could tell he was close, too, his eyes had become so dilated that his irises were only a thin string of blue around his pupils.

You felt bad for his neighbours, no, actually, you felt bad for anyone within 10ft of the building. The walls of the apartment were basically shaking from the sheer noise of you both, and what happened next didn't help that much.

HiMERU gripped your hips, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks, then pulled you flush against him. Chest to chest, skin to skin, you were as close as two people could possibly be as your lips found his in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. Your teeth clashed together in an ugly way, tongues went anywhere but where they were supposed to and if your younger self could see you now, she'd probably throw up at how your saliva dissolved into each others.

"(name!)"

"HiMERU!"

You weren't sure who came first, or even how long the two of you spent whining and moaning into each others mouths, but you felt HiMERUs seed filling you up, dripping out of you and for sure staining the futon. Your own orgasm washed over you like a wave, a tsunami wave that destroyed cities and uprooted trees, leaving you breathless and trembling atop HiMERU.

It took you a few mintutes to come down from your high, since your vision was clouded with white spots and you could almost feel the tiny sperm cells swimming around trying to reach your uterus. Thank God you were on the pill, over wise you would have been in deep shit. One day, maybe, if whatever just happened was to happen again, but that wasn't something you liked to think about.

"Are you alright?" You whispered as you pulled yourself off of HiMERUs now softening cock, laying down on your side besides him. "How do you feel?"

The man in question seemed to be in a daze, staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his eyes. You poked his cheek with a finger, quickly jolting him back to reality as a smile tugged at his lips.

"HiMERU feels good, thank you" The smile on his face was genuine. Sometimes you questioned whether HiMERU was real or not, whether his personality was as fake as your gut told you it was. Here, you could see how your gut was wrong. That smile was real, this feeling was real. "HiMERU feels he should get stressed out more often, no?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your bare chest, "Don't push it, I won't help you if your doing it intentionally!"

"Then a date? HiMERU will pay, all you will need to do is be pretty for him"

You smiled back at him, "I'd love too"

You spent awhile on that futon, just chatting and staring into each others eyes like any old couple would do. When you did leave, it wasn't without a goodbye kiss and a promise to meet up again soon.

And, you would've let Rinne off the hook for making you go over there in the first place, if it wasn't for the message you received later that night.

Rinne: what position he put u in??

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