#uneven bite after filling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wraithlafitte · 5 months

Text

even it up

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), graphic descriptions of injuries and repairing them, SMUT, unprotected piv, dean might have a pain kink (or a competency kink), praise (m!receiving), blowjob, riding, (reckless) choking, edging (m!receiving), begging, biting, overstimulation

word count: 4.7k

a/n: part 2 to bitchin'. sorry it took so long! i got busy with schoolwork, but the semester's almost up so we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon. thanks for your patience!

Silence filled the rental car as you and Dean drove to the location you'd tracked the missing vampires to. You had woken up tangled together, naked, dried bodily fluids a stark reminder of how far you'd fallen. You hadn't said a word to him all morning, and even Dean was devoid of his usual quips. At least you seemed to agree: last night was a mistake, and shouldn't happen again.

You parked the car in an unmarked, cracked parking lot a few blocks away from the abandoned house. Dean was out the door before you pulled the key from the ignition, rushing to the trunk to grab his weapons. You sighed and went after him, slamming the door behind you.

You stopped to the side of the trunk. "Dean."

"What," came his gruff reply from under the trunk lid. The sparse weeds growing through the pavement were suddenly very interesting.

"We should talk-"

Dean slammed the lid of the trunk, causing you to jump, and tossed you a machete, which you caught easily despite being startled.

"Let's just get the job done," he said, his face hard and unyielding as he made eye contact with you.

You looked away quickly, avoiding his stony gaze. "Fine," you mumbled. Those weeds sure were growing. Kind of how Dean had started to grow on you... persistent, despite the unforgiving terrain.

Shaking your head, you fell into step behind Dean as he started walking down the uneven sidewalk.

Your hands were deft as you picked the lock of the back door to the old, peeling green house. All the windows were boarded up, so you had no idea what was waiting for you directly behind this door, but if there was one thing you could count on, it's that if something did charge you, Dean would chop its head off. Not necessarily because he wanted to save you, but because he liked killing monsters. And you had a feeling that he had some anger he might want to take out on something deserving.

The lock finally clicked and you pushed the door open cautiously. It opened into a dirty mudroom, scattered with shoes and coats of all sizes and styles. Your stomach turned as you realized they must have belonged to victims.

Dean noticed it too. "Let's go," he said grimly and pushed past you into the building, machete held high.

You picked up your own machete from the ground where you had set it to pick the lock and followed Dean. He was quick, peeking past corners before whipping around and advancing down the hallways, pressed flat against the wall. You were less... dramatic about your caution, choosing to let him clear the way.

Dean stopped suddenly and threw an arm back, stopping you in place. For a second, you were distracted by the way his hand pressed back against you, fingers almost curling around your shirt, touching but not quite. A breeze through a broken window sent a wave of his Old Spice scent in your direction that almost overtook you. Then you came to your senses and slapped his hand away.

You peered past him to see what it was. You had come across a bedroom, in which three vampires were snoring away unwittingly. You recognized them from the warehouse.

Dean looked back at you and nodded, creeping into the room. You each went to a side of the bed and made eye contact over the sleeping monsters in front of you.

One, Dean mouthed, raising his blade.

Two, and you followed suit.

Three, and both of you swung. The blood of two vampires splattered the white sheets, and the third leapt up immediately, fangs descending. She stood on the bed, ready to pounce on Dean, when you pulled her legs out from under her. The vamp fell to the mattress, where you unceremoniously chopped off its head.

"Nice move," Dean muttered, wiping his blade and already walking towards the door. "Let's clear the rest of the house."

You checked the remaining rooms on the ground floor, while Dean hurried upstairs. You found nothing in the dilapidated rooms except some mice and rotting wood floors.

A loud pounding and scuffling sounded on the ceiling above you, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of metal hitting the floor. You turned and ran up the stairs two at a time.

Dean was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a vamp on the landing, his machete lying some distance away. Blood trickled down his temple. The ornate bronze candlestick the vampire wielded had a matching red stain.

The vampire hooked his beefy arm around Dean's neck and slammed him face first into the wall, shattering the glass on a picture frame that hung there. You seized the opportunity of having his back to you and rushed up behind him, hacking at his neck. Only his neck was so thick and muscular that your blade barely went through a third of it.

The vamp dropped Dean on the ground and slowly turned on you, your machete still stuck in its neck. Your eyes darted to where Dean's machete had fallen, and you scrambled backwards to pick it up, almost tripping on a rug in the process, but successfully retrieving it anyway. You brandished in front of you as you got backed into a corner, your last line of defense.

It had the audacity to laugh at you. "You think that's gonna work?" he taunted, bearing down on you and shadowing you from the meager sunlight coming through a window in an adjacent room.

In your periphery, you saw Dean rising from the ground, eyes fixed on the weapon stuck in the vampire's neck. You suppressed the urge to glance at him fully as he crept up behind the monster. He took hold of the machete handle and yanked.

It was no good. The vamp whirled on him, socking him in the jaw. You saw your chance. Dean was down for the count and the vampire had its back turned again. You ran up and swung with all your might in the opposite direction. The vamp's head rolled.

Dean looked up at you from the ground where he had fallen, panting hard. “You’re welcome,” he breathed heavily.

“For what? I saved your ass,” you reminded him, holding out a hand to help him up.

“If I hadn’t distracted it, you wouldn’t have been able to get it,” he said while standing, obviously trying to repair his ego.

You rolled your eyes and dropped his hand roughly. “Oh please.” You started down the stairs to head back to the car.

“At least we got them all now,” Dean commented, stomping down the stairs behind you.

You ignored him all the way back to the car and all the way back to the hotel as he continued to try to convince you that you hadn’t done all the work.

The sun was setting by the time you got back to the hotel, all shades of red and orange that reminded you of the blood you had spilled today. It reflected off the Impala, parked in front of the side door of the hotel. And it bathed Dean in a warm golden light that bounced off his freckled skin and made him look like he was glowing.

Ew, what am I thinking, you scolded yourself. He's just sweaty. He's a gross, sweaty man who you hate and never want to be intimate with again. He doesn't look sexy at all right now.

You were brought back to earth as Dean winced heavily while hauling his bag out of your trunk to transfer it to his car. His hand went to his ribs, tenderly feeling around for cracks.

"You should come inside so I can check you out," you said without thinking.

Dean looked at you incredulously. "Yeah, I bet you'd love to check me out, but I gotta go."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Not what I meant. You're obviously hurt, let me take a look. I can patch you up better than you can yourself."

He threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and slammed it shut. "Fine. If you'll let me leave after."

You prepared your first aid kit while Dean stripped off his top layers. You could have just gotten what you needed as you went, but you were preparing yourself for seeing him shirtless again... in the same environment that you'd fucked in last night.

You turned around, heart rate picking up. You were just making yourself nervous more than anything. You'd seen him shirtless thousands of times before. It's fine, it's normal.

And there he was.

Half-naked.

Sweaty.

Groaning.

Dean sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying to look down his side, where deep red bruises were already formed. They were accompanied by a gash on his chest, presumably where the vampire's claws had cut into his skin as it tossed him around.

You kneeled in front of him and began examining his ribs, making sure to be gentle as you ran your fingers over each bone. Goosebumps rose on his flesh in the path of your hands. "Well, good news, nothing's broken."

Dean gave a pained sort of grimace-smile. "Great. So I can leave." He made to get up off the bed, but you held down his thighs.

"Not so fast," you said. "Let me fix up that cut."

"It's fine, really, I can do it myself," he protested. He met your determined gaze and slumped back.

"Fine. Make it quick."

You poured some antiseptic on a gauze pad. "This is gonna sting."

"I know, sweetheart, this ain't my first rodeo," Dean griped.

You gave him an expressionless look like I-am-so-done-with-you and pressed the soaked gauze to the cut. Dean hissed through his teeth, fingers tightening into the blanket beneath him. You wiped away the blood and the grime, revealing how deep the cut was.

"I'm gonna have to close this up," you told him. "It's deeper than I thought." You begin rummaging through the first-aid kit for the suture needle you knew was around somewhere. A hunter's first-aid kit was a little more elaborate than most.

You carefully threaded the needle, tongue poking through your lips, then looked up at him. "Ready?"

Dean's expression hardened and he grabbed the t-shirt he had been wearing, wadded up one end, and shoved it in his mouth.

Your brow furrowed in concentration as you wove the needle through his delicate skin, meticulously joining the two sides. You worked as quickly and as steadily as you could, painstakingly making sure to sew him up in a way that wouldn't scar too much. Dean did his best to keep quiet, occasionally grunting in pain, his face scrunching up around the shirt in his mouth.

You reached the end of the cut and adeptly tied off the thread, snipping the loose end off. Dean spat the chunk of t-shirt out of his mouth and tossed it to the side.

You made eye contact for a moment as you covered the wound site with a bandage, then Dean shifted his eyes to the side. "Thanks," he said after a minute.

"You sure you want to go? Why don't you rest one more night before getting on the road?" you asked softly, placing your hand on his knee soothingly. His leg twitched under your hand.

"I should go...." Dean protested half-heartedly, not making any move to get up. Did he want to stay?

"Got somewhere to be, Winchester?" you teased. Testing your theory, you rubbed his thigh a couple times. His eyes fluttered half-closed and he looked at you darkly through his lashes.

"Don't," he murmured, uncharacteristically non-combative. His hand crept around your wrist, holding your hand on his leg.

You looked up at him from your place between his legs. "You say one thing, but do another," you said softly. "What do you want, Dean?"

Dean bit his lip and let go of your hand, clasping his together in his lap and dropping his gaze to them. You waited a beat, then grabbed his hands, pulling them to your chest.

"Look at me, Dean," you commanded. His eyes flew up in surprise. "Tell me what you want."

His expression changed from surprised to irritated to aroused. He grabbed you by the shoulders.

"You."

You grinned and stood up to clamber onto him, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, Dean's hands ghosting across your back and legs, helping you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible as you made out and rolled your hips down onto his hardening cock.

Dean groaned and broke away. "Let me fuck you," he rasped, pupils blown.

A lovely mischievous idea occurred to you. You pouted. "You'll hurt yourself. Let me take care of you." You slid off his lap onto the floor and turned away, pulling your own shirt over your head. "Get comfortable on the bed."

In the fake gold plated mirror on the wall, you saw Dean look you up and down hungrily. Then he quickly stripped the rest of his clothes off and sat against the headboard. You slowly lowered your jeans, then your panties, being as teasing as possible, knowing he was watching.

"Come here," he barked finally. You turned to face him, bra still covering your breasts.

"So demanding," you breathed, but went to him anyway. You sat down on his thighs and looped your arms around his neck again, pulling him in for a kiss, which he swerved in favor of mouthing kisses into your neck and jaw. You moaned a little as he paid attention to a sensitive vein. Your hips almost involuntarily rolled forward, meeting his lower stomach.

His hands, which had just been resting on your thighs, squeezed harshly into the supple flesh of your hips. You yelped as he dug his fingers into the bruises he had left the day before.

"You said you would take care of me," Dean said snarkily, staring pointedly at his cock between you. You smirked and wrapped your hand around its base, admiring the reddening tip. You slowly squeezed your hand up from the base to the tip, and were rewarded with a thick drop of precum leaking out and dripping down the side. Dean huffed, a dark flush spreading across his neck and chest.

You scooted down his legs until your face was level with his crotch. Making teasing eye contact with him, you slowly stuck out your tongue and licked his cock from his balls up, flicking off the tip. Dean growled, his skin and gaze fiery.

"Quit'cher teasing," he slurred, tilting his head back to knock against the headboard.

You found significant pleasure in weakening him, and although you'd have liked to keep teasing him, you wanted to make him come undone. So you took his cock into your mouth, sucking gently on the fat head, savoring the salty taste of him.

"Fuck," Dean whispered, head still back, eyes closed. You swirled your tongue around a few times, then started lowering your head, taking him further and further into your mouth. He reached for your head but you caught his hand and held it down to the bed.

You raised your head, letting his cock fall from your mouth, a string of drool still connecting the two. "Trust me," you said, raising your eyebrow.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," he groaned.

"Don't make me tie you down," you warned. "I will."

"I'd like to see you try- ngh!" You squeezed the base of his cock tightly and watched as it turned red and Dean squirmed beneath you, mouth agape and panting. He truly was a beautiful, lewd sight.

"Mind your stitches," you reminded him gently. "Lie still." You loosened your hold on his cock and began sliding your hand along it languidly.

Dean visibly relaxed, eyes fluttering open. You lowered your mouth back onto his cock, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and swallowing around him. Your eyes watered and stung, but the groan he let out was worth it. You repeated the process a couple more times, then pulled off and looked up at him. He regarded you darkly and lustfully as you grabbed his hand and brought it to the side of your face, allowing him to lace his fingers through your hair and grab a handful.

A handhold.

You nodded slightly and dropped your jaw, mouth waiting above his heavy cock. Dean's mouth slowly grew into a grin.

"Want me to fuck your face, huh? Guess that's one way you can help me out." He shoved your head down onto him. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat. "Fucking slut, letting a guy fuck your mouth just 'cuz you feel sorry for him." He began bobbing your head up and down. His grip on your hair made your scalp tingle.

You made a little moan of protest. It turned into the most obscene gurgling, gagging sound as he continued to use you like a human fleshlight.

You gripped his wrist and tugged his hand out of your hair so you could pull off of his cock. You looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I will stop."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, out of breath. "You practically threw yourself on me."

You smirked, moving up to straddle him, and pinned his hand to the headboard. "I think you'll find that, both times, it was the other way around."

Before Dean knew what was happening, you ambushed him with a handcuff snapping around his wrist, the other side looped haphazardly on the bedpost. It didn't matter that it wasn't secure. He didn't have enough leverage to lift it over the tall post and free himself.

While he snarled, distracted, you trapped his other wrist in the same way. You smiled down at him sweetly when his angry face turned to you.

"I did warn you," you said, grinding down on his lap. "But I guess I should've known better than to give you any control. It was always going to come to this, wasn't it?"

"You bitch," Dean said through gritted teeth, straining forward against his restraints.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck, his jaw, his earlobe. "Just say the word if it's too much."

You felt him relax underneath you, then he nipped at your ear. "How weak do you think I am? Do your worst," he sneered.

You rose above him, triumphant. "Oh, I will, baby." You ground your wet core against his cock, still slick with your spit. He ground his teeth more, trying not to react. You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged gently.

And oh, how beautiful it was that he let his head loll back, giving himself into your control, eyes fluttering shut. Then he seemed to snap to his senses and he opened his eyes, muttering, "Just ride me already."

"Patience," you whispered, and began kissing him. You kissed down his neck, across his chest (avoiding the stitches), down his stomach through the soft hairs that led back down to his pretty cock, laying on his stomach and leaving droplets of precum like dew in the hairs.

You blew softly across his length as you considered the best way to make him unravel for you. He let out a low groan, quiet and strained. You smiled to yourself and lowered your mouth back onto his cock, running your tongue lightly along the thick vein that ran up its underside, tracing the life-force that pulsated beneath his skin. He huffed softly in quick succession.

"Breathe," you murmured against his dick, and licked the tip gently, slo-o-owly. Dean made a pretty noise that was halfway a grunt and halfway a breathy sigh, and your pussy fluttered between your legs.

You clambered back up his body, your knees framing his waist as you hovered over him. His eyes were completely clouded by lust, an eager expression taking over his face. You took hold of his cock and lined it up with your body. His breath hitched in anticipation.

You cocked your head, smiling. "What do you say?"

Dean scowled. "Fuck you, I'm not begging."

"Oh, but you already have, Dean." You stroke his cock gently where it waits between your legs. "What's one more word?"

His eyes threatened to close against his will. He gritted his teeth, opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, and spoke. "Please," he whispered.

"Good boy," you praised, sinking down onto his cock slowly. You moaned loudly as you felt him fill you up again. It almost felt better now that you were taking your time with him. Dean moaned softly, arms finally relaxing in his bonds.

Your head dipped down and you kissed him. His mouth was soft and pliant against yours, not fighting, not working to dominate, and you had the fleeting thought that you had tamed him. You didn't know how, but in this moment, he was completely submissive. And you liked it.

You raised yourself up and drew off his cock until just the head remained inside, then slid back down slowly, like you had at first. Dean leaned forward, held back somewhat by the cuffs, to suck and press kisses to your breasts. You ground down on him, pressing his cock as far in as it would go until it ached, and your chest vibrated with Dean's responding groan.

"Please move," he begged hoarsely, hips twitching underneath you.

"Since you asked nicely," you breathed. You began rolling your hips against his steadily, watching as his pleasure flickered through his rugged features. It was a stark contrast to last night, when he had been scowling and making quips the entire time as he fucked you into the mattress. This was almost... loving. Or perhaps you were simply providing him a service. You did agree to take care of him, and maybe that's what he needed.

You reached up and unclasped the handcuff on Dean's left hand, somehow trusting that he would not go anywhere. His eyes flew open and his hand was on you like it was a magnet and your hip was the opposite charge. His hand massaged into the flesh of your hip, making a dull ache arise from the bruises of the previous night.

You looked into his eyes as both your moans filled the air. They were wide and asking, and since his hand was gentle on your body, and he had been on such good behavior, you released his other hand as well.

It was like a switch flipped. His right hand darted to your waist and dug in, the hand on your hip tightening as well as he took control of your movement. You yelped and he began pushing you faster, your thighs screaming with effort as you tried to regain control.

"Dean," you gasped, clawing at his shoulders.

He grinned, slamming your hips down on him until you were forced to fall against his shoulder. "You were too slow," he gasped between heavy breaths, the wind rushing from his lungs each time your hips met his.

You managed to push yourself back up, bracing your forearm against his throat. His gasps turned ragged as you cut off his air. His thrusts slowed as you regained control of him.

"Be good," you said harshly, catching your breath and narrowing your gaze. "Only good boys get what they want." Dean scowled as he realized you were parroting his words from the night before.

"Fuck you," he spat hoarsely, voice barely audible from the pressure on his vocal cords. You cocked an eyebrow and leaned a little heavier on his throat. His cock twitched inside you.

Letting up on his throat just enough that he could breathe, you picked yourself up and began fucking yourself on his cock again, this time fully in control as his hands just clutched at your hips. You swear he went bug-eyed at the renewed friction combined with his light-headedness.

You felt pressure build in your core as you watched Dean's face, red and straining, mouth hanging open as he gasped in a desperate bid for a full breath. All that came from his mouth were raspy moans and heaves. He seemed determined not to beg still. You supposed he had been faking before. That wouldn't do.

"Tell me when you're close, baby," you purred in his ear as you began rubbing your clit, the sensation causing you to clench around him tightly. You readjusted the arm on his throat so he could speak.

"I'm close," you continued. "If I come on your cock, can you take it? Or will it be too much?" You pouted in mock pity. Dean was barely listening, eyes rolled back in his head, mouth moving in something that might have been words, if he wasn't so pussy-drunk and oxygen-deprived.

The look on his face finally pushed you over the edge, and you fell on his mouth hungrily as your pussy spasmed around him, eating up his desperate whines and moans as they fell from his lips.

You didn't stop your pace, overstimulating yourself and building another orgasm while Dean... finally broke.

"Please," he gasped hoarsely into your mouth, teeth clashing against yours as he jerked forward, drawn towards you, needing to be closer and closer and closer. "I'm so close."

You smirked down at him and slowed drastically. He was going to feel everything you were subjected to last night. He whined and buried his face in your chest, hips wiggling in an attempt to thrust into you again. "What do you say?"

"I just did," he growled, scraping his teeth over your skin.

"You didn't," you said cheerily. "You know what you need to tell me."

He let out a drawn-out groan followed by what could be considered somewhat of a sob. "Fuck."

"That's not it," you chastised.

Dean gritted his teeth and looked up at you, meeting your gaze. But he couldn't hold it. "I need to come," he whispered, eyes dropping. "Please make me come."

You resumed your last pace, touching yourself and clenching down on him as your body reacted to the feelings. Dean let out a broken moan as you leaned on his throat again. "Fuck- fuck-" he gasped against your skin, more his mouth just forming the words than speaking, hot and wet and open. His entire body tensed and he stopped breathing for just a moment-

And then he came inside you, shuddering and digging his nails into your hips so tightly you thought you might bleed. You didn't slow until you were following him, wringing every drop from his spent cock as he begged you to slow down in half-human sounds. You didn't slow until you were overstimulating yourself too, and he was straining against your arm, all but crying as his face contorted, all gritted teeth and tense muscles and red cheeks.

At last, you seated yourself fully on him and just stayed there, finally un-obstructing his airway. Dean's hands fell limply to your sides as his chest heaved, panting heavily and looking at you with a glazed expression as his cock jerked weakly inside you.

You made a quick scan of his injuries. Nothing had burst or ripped. He was catching his breath. Satisfied that he was physically okay, you smirked down at him.

"Now we're even," you told him slyly, dragging yourself off of him and laying down beside him.

"Fuck you," he croaked.

You smiled and nipped at his jaw. "Think you better just stay the night, wouldn't want you to drive like this."

Dean hesitated, then decided to take the bait. "Like what?"

"All weak and worn out," you said sympathetically. "Driving tired from a good fucking is the same as driving drunk, you know."

He let out a sharp chuckle. "I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"Really?" you asked sweetly, propping yourself on one elbow to look at him. "Could've sworn it was something like that...." You pretended to think.

"I'll stay," Dean sighed, snaking his arm around you and pulling you into his side. "If you promise we can do this again before checkout."

"I don't know," you said. "We might sleep too long. We might have to take it out to the car."

Dean shivered at the thought of fucking you in his Impala. "I guess that wouldn't be so bad."

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #userwraith

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tommydarlings · 1 year

Text

puppy dog eyes | c.s

pairing: sub!carlos x dom!reader

warnings: smut, face sitting, brief mention of dacryphilia

w/c: 0.6k

summary: you just couldn’t resist your boyfriend's big, brown, puppy dog eyes — you needed them to look up at you while you’re sitting on his face. (based off of this request)

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +55 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

“What do you want carlos? Use your words,” you tilted your head in his direction, watching with narrowing eyes as he looked up at you from laying flat on his back on the bed you two share.

Carlos gulped as he gazed up at you with his big, brown puppy dog eyes, “you know-

“What do you want,” you repeated in a harsher way, smiling down at him as you removed your panties.

Your boyfriend sighed while you ran your fingertips along his naked chest, making him stutter a bit as he answered, “Want y-you to sit o-on my face,” he replied in a stuttering manner while you gazed up at you with this puppy dog eyes that you adore.

He was so cute with his slightly glassy, big, brown eyes.

You walked closer to him, looking down at him with raised brows before you spoke up in a taunting manner, “You want me to sit on your face, cariño?” You whispered before you bend down, balancing your face on your palm as you brushed some of his hair out of his face.

Carlos gulped and widened his eyes a bit as you touched his face.

God was he touch desperate.

Then he slowly nodded, silently answering your question, making you smile and bite your lip,

“Yeah? Would you enjoy that? When I rub my pussy over your mouth and nose, making you all wet while I’m holding your head in place by your hair, baby?” You said before you stood up again, making Carlos raise his brows and excitement.

“Don’t get too excited,” you mumbled after he nodded at your question you’ve asked before.

After some seconds of him excitingly waiting for you to fulfill his wish, you sat down on his chest, brushing his hair out of his face before you harshly grabbed them, crawling forward, putting your desperate pussy right in front of his mouth.

“C'mon, cariño,” you smirked down at him, tugging on his hair a bit, “thought you wanted to have a taste so bad,” you shrugged but quickly stopped your sassy behaviour since he let his tongue lick a stripe up your pussy, forcing you to throw your head back and moan.

“F-Fuck,” you whined in a hush tone, roughly fisting the sheets next to your boyfriends body while he only moaned and groaned into your pussy as he looked up at you with big puppy dog eyes probably begging for more.

You let your head fall forward, stuttering breaths of your yours filling the air as Carlos decided to raise his hands and grab your thighs, pulling your closer to his hungry mouth.

You briefly chuckled before you shook your head, “oh no, no, no Carlos baby…did I say you could touch me? No, I didn’t,” you told him in a harsh tone, making him whine into your pussy before he removed his hands again, harshly fisting the sheets now as well.

In a quiet manner, you cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran his nose along your pussy a bit, including his tongue sometimes as well while he looked at you with slightly teary eyes.

This man was a sight for sore eyes right now, god.

“Just l-like that, c-carlos,” you gulped before you moaned and pulled his mouth even closer by his fluffy hair, “that’s a good boy, just like that,” you mumbled, looking down at him.

You fell slightly forward, balancing yourself entirely on his head as you put your second hand on his hair as well, moving your hips in circular motions as you started to stutter, breathing getting heavier and more uneven as you felt like you were gonna fall apart — but in a good way.

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imwetforyourmom · 6 months

Note

hi can u do headcannons (or a fic idm) of like people pleaser!reader and bf!matt who like stands up for her or tells people off on her behalf?

I really hope this makes even the slightest bit of sense

thank you so much, I love ur writing sm🤍🫶🏼

people pleaser!reader x matt headcannons!

(I have never done hcs ever, so if its bad thats mb, also I didnt know if you wanted nsfw but I js didnt bc I dont rllt know how to nsfw people pleaser x matt but if tou want me to retry it dont hesitate to ask!!)

warnings: angst, swearing

a/n: I dont rlly know how to write people pleasers and such so thats why its short, but I can try again if you’d like, I also love this idea, thank you anon!! <33

- the second someone pushes you around and or walks all over you hes quick to shut it down.

“alright listen man, it was one thing when you told her to fuck off, but telling her to shut the fuck up is another. I need you to leave.”

- when matt notices that someone is using you to their advantage or even notices you going out of your way to please them on several occasions hes getting it done and over with, quick.

“okay. enough y/n, come sit with me. you dont need to do everything for that asshole, k?”

^ he made sure to say it extra loud so the guy heard what matt had said about him.

- after matt had told someone off for being rude to you, you sat down next to him with your head hung low and your eyes filled with tears of guilt.

“baby, whats wrong?” he asked, his arm coming over to your back and rubbing your shoulder.

“that wasnt nice of you to yell at him.. look at him, I feel guilty now.” you spoke, your voice slightly shaky as you motioned to the man whom was anxiously biting his lip with his mouth closed shut, after matt had told him to keep it shut.

“it also wasnt nice of him to yell at you and call you names, was it?” he grumbled, just looking at the guy made him angrier, especially knowing you felt bad for him.

- “no, no, if you want me to. I can!” you spoke, a soft smile on your face as you talked to the girl infront of you, in which the girl had a smirk on her face, catching onto your patterns.. doing anything for the sake of pleasing her.

matt, on the other hand, stood behind you and glared at the girl, his jaw clenching with pure irritation. matt cleared his throat, trying to get the girls attention. and once her eyes met his he brought his hand up and flipped her off.

- in ways of showing you he wasnt happy with what you were doing he’d do subtle motions with his hands or look at you a certain way. you’ve learned that his jaw clenched tightly shut and his eyes glaring at you, then a quick look at the person you were currently giving your everything, is a way of him indicating he wanted you stop what you were doing.

- watching you adapt someone elses personality to try and seem more approachable and less weird truly angers him, despite knowing he cant do anything about it. he feels you should know that you’re perfect just the way you are and dont need to be accepted by everyone, they should like you for who you are.

- “oh..” you mumble, your head hung low as somone insults you and your interests. you cant say anything nor do anything, its not in your nature. you just have to sit there and take it, in fear of disappointing them. and since matt wasnt with you, there wasnt any way in stopping the next few minutes of being insulted.

later that day, when you come home your cheeks are tear-stained, you have mascara running down your cheeks and your breathing is uneven.. theres no way in hell you’re hiding this from matt. you take gentle steps as you walk to his room, slowly pushing his door open and taking small sniffles.

with hearing the door creak open matts lips turn into a grin, that is, until he lifts his head up to the sight of you, looking like you just bawled for hours on end. he quickly tosses his phone on his bed and walks over to you, engulfing you in his arms. already knowing what was going on he didnt ask anything, instead just comforted you.

- “ok! im fucking tired of your shit dude! you’ve been bossing, walking all over her, degrading and just overall being a total dickhead to her!” matt yelled, finally getting enough of this kid being rude to his girlfriend. he stood up from his chair and walked over to carlos. he stood tall and high infront of him. y/n moved behind matt and grabbed his hand, holding it and lightly squeezing, at an attempt to calm him down.

“matt, baby, its okay. im fine. dont yell at him.” y/n whispered, your voice quiet as you spoke. you avoided eye contact with carlos. “no, its not okay! hes being a total asshole to you, y/n. you dont deserve to be treated like that.” he turned around to face you. his voice no longer being loud as he spoke with sincerity towards you.

- you being treated rudely didnt always end up with him yelling at someone. when he wasnt fuming with anger, he would grab your hand and hold it, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, then pull you into him, in a sense of protection and to tell you ‘enough’ without speaking.

- matt would act almost immediately when he even sees the beginning signs of you starting to act and do everything possible for the person you’re talking to. he would lean down in your ear and mumble quietly, “relax, my love.”

- again, he would make sure to be extra loud about shit talking someone when calling you over to him just to make sure that they know what matt thinks of them.

“cmon baby, that poor excuse of a friend doesnt deserve you.”

“hes being an asshole, my love. dont suck up to him.”

tags

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns

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spookyji · 1 year

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# emo beomgyu + messy fuck

(minors dni + nsfw !! f!reader, oral (m receiving), riding, unprotected + clothed, quickie, making out, lazy dom gyu, marking, so sloppy n messy fr lol, smoking/cigarettes)

emo beomgyu with long hair, headphones always around his neck, long legs clad in dark wash jeans, tie undone and loose shirt hanging over his shoulders,,, cigarette dangling from his lip as he fists your hair, you can do better than that, he mutters, do it like i taught you. such a shame he has such a big cock with your pretty lips wrapped around it,,, so better deep throat him the way he likes it, emo boy lounging on his beat up leather sofa as he groans, hand tightening in your hair as he makes you take him deeper, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke from his lips,,, and when he cuts in your mouth, your eyes widening as hot white coats your tongue, he can't help but wonder how he got such a cute girl to be his if he's such an asshole~

his cum dripping from your lip as his tongue tangles with yours, shoving aside your panties, yanked on top of him and clothes rumpled, not gonna wait for you before thrusting his dripping cock deep into your pretty folds, catching the loud cry in his mouth as his cock fills you up too quickly, cigarette and headphones abandoned on the floor,,, messy tongue and sloppy kisses as beomgyu tastes the remnants of his release, hot saliva coated lips and teeth, cold rings on his fingers as he gropes the plush of your ass, pussy wrapped around his cock so prettily,,, ride me, beomgyu smirks, his big hands caressing the plush of your thighs, head tipping back as he pants at the tight, hot sensation of your walls tightly slipping around him,,, fuck, such a cute sight to see his girl struggling to ride him properly, sloppy and uneven when your thighs are all sore, not used to doing it by yourself~ so whine his name, beg him to fuck you full, your gasping breaths on his collarbones as you whimper, tears threatening to spill over because you're so bad at trying to ride him by yourself <3

long hair draped over his shoulders, metal chain on his neck and clothes messily worn, his shirt ridden up to expose the fine lines of his abdomen, zipper and boxers pulled down, messy with cum and arousal dripping down around his shaft,,, your clothes rumpled, skirt flipped up, soaked, flimsy panties shoved aside, dripping pussy making such a mess in his lap, lips bitten and swollen with his rough kisses, fuck, beomgyu loves rough, messy fucks. can't do it yourself, can you? beomgyu smirks, his big hands coming to grip your hips as you whimper and shake your head, a string of drool from your lip to your chin, tear streaks down your cheeks. and what else can he do,,, after all, he's more than capable~

and beomgyu who sucks dark hickeys on your neck, licking the mark with hot saliva as he grips you tightly, thrusting up into your cute, drippy pussy roughly as you sob with pleasure into his shoulder, rough fabric rubbing against your cheek as his hard thrusts fill you up all the way, kissing your cervix with wet slaps against skin, rustles of clothes and the clinking of his necklaces and belt on fabric, hot pants and breathy moans heavy in the air,,, beomgyu's long hair brushing against your skin as you cry into his neck, high crashing down as he fucks himself through his climax, hot cum filling you up with creamy white, his deep, low groan of swears as his lips attach to your shoulder, sucking a dark mark as he bites down, muffling his noises of pleasure,,, headphones and cigarette discarded, because all he wants to do is breathe in your pretty scent n hear your gasps n whimpers, all fucked out on his cock,,, and don't think of moving any time soon,,, because gyu's too lazy n into cockwarming to even let you move <3

extra thought;;; emo beomgyu's into quickies,,, bet he likes to fuck in his car, big cock filling you up too full as his hand slams over your lips, be quiet, his car's old and the seats make so much fucking noise because they're leather, sweat and clothes thrown over the front seats as he fucks you dumb in the backseat,,, probably doesn't even bother to clean up his cum stains on the floor of the car//

hehe who doesn't love grunge emo gyu~~

#omg this gyu was smth else i miss freeze #gyu <3 #beomgyu smut #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours

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remember-to-be-gentle · 9 months

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Inspired by this tumblr post by @hawnks

Subject: JJK, Satoru Gojo

Title: Hate Me Tomorrow (Omega!Gojo x GN Alpha!Reader)

Trigger Warning: Dub con, omega verse, scenting, size difference, biting/marking, obsessive/toxic behavior, self-hatred, knotting, knot riding, begging, heat/mating cycles, grinding

The sweet, musky scent of Gojo's cologne and sweat enveloped you. Even the giant stuffed beta fish you were snuggling had no scent but his. His pillow fort was surprisingly spacious, granted, Gojo was nearly twice your size so there was a lot of him to fit. But being in here with him was nearly suffocating, and not just because of the light whiffs of omega scent rolling off of him or because he'd practically ripped off your jacket to snuggle into.

He'd called you suddenly, saying that he needed to spend time with someone. It made sense. Geto just died and there were only so many people who were willing to pick up the phone for Gojo, and even fewer he'd actually call. Especially when it was a secret he was an omega, pretending to be an alpha and you were an alpha pretending to be a beta.

The two of you were decent friends, hanging out after teaching at Jujutsu Tech for a drink or a quick round of gossip. He was one of the few people who knew you were an alpha and he an omega, an unusual kinship formed but it was never anything more. More importantly, you knew about his relationship with Geto. You couldn't say no.

Which was why your thigh was snug against his, smartphone balanced on your knee, his favorite plushie shoved into your arms. His head on your shoulder breathes fast but not uneven. It seemed like he was trying not to cry. Poor guy. The winter fashion review didn't seem to be helping him calm down at all. Nor any work gossip. You wanted to stay and help, but it was getting late. If he really wanted to, he could just pin you down, sometimes that thought scared you.

Gojo curled onto his side, struggling closer to you, your jacket wrapped in his hands like a security blanket.

It felt wrong to leave, but you needed to take care of yourself, too. "Hey, bud, I need to get going. Are you going to be alright by yourself?"

Gojo buried his face in your neck, silent. He leaned his weight into you, just enough to make it clear he didn't want to be alone.

Fuck. "I'm sorry. I'll come first thing tomorrow. We'll call out from work and go to the city or--"

His teeth scraped your neck. Possessive, dominant. Alpha behavior. Before you knew what was happening, he was ripping off your scent suppressor, inhaling like he hadn't been breathing for hours. Alpha pheromones leaked from your skin, invading your nose. "Gojo?"

Your stomach turned as your instincts awakened, the need to comfort an omega struggling with your own needs for autonomy. Your fingers dug into the beta fish plushie, filled with his scent.

He reached for his own scent blocker and you suddenly realized what was going on. With his neck practically right under your nose, his omega scent was free. And not just that, he was going into heat. The pillow fort was a nest and this was a trap. Gojo was primed to breed and he was going to use you to fuck away his pain. "This isn't healthy, Gojo, listen to me!"

But his patch was already off and the omega scent of him in your lungs, filling you, lighting every nerve on fire. Your cock swelled under your clothes, reacting to his breedable scent with vigor.

Gently, Gojo took the plush and pushed you onto your back, yanking off his pants as his pale face filled with color. His bandages were already slipping, the iridescent shine of his six eyes laser-focused on the swelling at your crotch. He crawled on top of you, already tugging off his shirt. "Just for today, please." He panted, his thin but muscular chest heaving as if just sitting here breathing was a near-impossible task.

His weight lowered onto your cock and you gasped, feeling his wetness through your clothes. His heat was so pleasant, feverish but warm, empty, and yearning. Blood pulsed lower and you gulped.

Slowly, Gojo rocked back and forth, moaning loudly each time your shaft met his clit. His back arched, nipples swollen and pink, and standing at attention. "Please," he begged. "Just me just for tonight. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please, ah, Y/N. Please, I wanna cum. Let me have it inside me."

It was getting harder and harder to think straight. He felt so good, the need to fill him up, let him fuck himself stupid on your cock growing. It would be better if you let him, a voice whispered. Another said, it's what you were made for. Just let him.

"Gojo," you gasped. You reached for him, tried to make him stop so you could think, but his fingers intertwined with yours and he was moving faster now, his breathy moans coming faster. His skin was so soft and warm, filling you with his heat until you thought you might burst. Blood pulsed in your cock, his pussy was sucking at you through your clothing. He wanted you so badly. You wanted... What did you want to do again? You had to leave but why?

"Y/N, I'm cumming." His hips rocked faster, tummy rolling with downy white hair covered in sparkling slick. "I'm cumming on your alpha cock." He let go of your hands to lay across your stomach, his head buried in your neck to take in your scent, his own making your head spin as pleasure threatened to burst out of your cock. His teeth met your skin, nibbling and biting gently then hard enough to bruise until he let out a long, throaty groan as he came.

Instantly, your clothes were soaked, his hot slick smothered on your member. If you weren't fully erect before, you were now.

Still panting, Gojo lifted himself up just enough to tug your cock free from your clothing. He didn't wait, spreading his pussy with his fingers as he sank down on your tip. Slick gushed down your shaft as he cried out, swallowing your swollen head into his heat. You bit back a groan, fingers digging into the blankets making up the fort.

"You feel so big," Gojo moaned. "So good. I've only done this with Geto, so I'm going to have to start slow." He sank a little further, impossibly tight and hot and wet. "Feels so good," he huffed, rolling his hips and finally, sinking all the way down your shaft.

Your knot throbbed, seeming to sense that an omega was speared on your length.

Gojo humped himself on your cock, needy moans slipping from his mouth each time his hips met yours. "Feels so good, Y/N. I've only felt Geto like this before."

Before you could respond he pulled back to his full height, six eyes glowing in the warm darkness of the pillow fort. He spread his lower lips as he lifted himself up, clear slick drooling from his hole. His pretty, pink, clit a shining pearl at the apex of his thighs. "You did this to me. Look how wet you made me." Slowly, Gojo slid back down, pushing the head of your cock against his cervix. Again, he kept himself exposed and rose up, only to slurp your length right back down to the knot, aiming this time higher, into something spongy and mouth-wateringly soft.

"G-Gojo, I know you miss him but you can't--"

He raised himself up and dropped down, knocking a groan from you both. "I think about him a lot," Gojo panted. "About how empty he left me. In my soul. In my body. So please, let me fix one of those. Just for now. It's okay if you hate me, but I need you now more than I've needed anyone."

Gojo whined, flushed and excited. "Right there." He slammed back down on you with a stomach-churning squelch right into that soft sweet spot. "So good." He was riding you now, using you like a dildo to get himself off, his delicate fingers rolling his clit in circles. You couldn't take your eyes off him. "I want you to cum inside me, okay? Fill me up with your seed. Help me feel less empty."

Pleasure gathered deep inside you, begging to come out as your knot swelled. Shit. You shouldn't. He was your coworker, your friend. But omegas needed alpha seed, he needed reprieve from his heat and you were the only one he could call--because the person he really wanted was dead.

That thought shattered your high, grounding you back in the moment. "Gojo, I know you're still mourning Geto, but this isn't healthy for you."

Gojo settled on your stomach, chest heaving. His hands snuck under your shirt, impossibly soft and warm in your skin. Your cock twitched inside him, wanting him to squeeze and milk you dry but that wasn't what a good friend would let him do.

"I killed him, you know." His hands curled into fists by your hips. "He left me after taking my virginity and when he came back, I killed him on Christmas Eve because he didn't give me another choice. I'm awful, aren't I? Shoko hates me. She won't say it but I know she does. I hate me, too." The blue of his eyes shone as tears gathered, threatening to fall down his red flushed cheeks.

"Shoko doesn't hate you." You said soothingly. You sat up, so much smaller than him, and ran your hands through his hair. "It was an impossible situation, we all think you did the right thing. We--"

He didn't let you finish your thought. Gojo grabbed you by your shirt and slammed his mouth onto yours, his tongue filling you as if he could make you swallow every hateful thing he'd ever thought about himself. "If you don't hate me," he breathed against your lips, his spit wet and warm as it dribbled down your chin, "then cum inside me." He rolled his hips, reigniting the electric pleasure in your core. "Please. You can hate me tomorrow, but right now, I can't let you go."

The pulsing softness of his pussy contracted, squeezing you so tightly you thought you might burst. You gasped for breath when Gojo released you and then did it again. You wanted to move. You wanted to stop. You wanted...

Gojo pulled down the front of your shirt, rolling his hips roughly, chasing his end against your cock. He bit your chest, hard enough to bruise, marking you like an alpha. And that was enough to come undone.

You exploded inside of him, eyes rolling back as your core emptied against his sweet spot. Your hips rolled up into his and you shivered as you felt your knot pop into his pussy, slick sliding down your thighs and onto the blankets.

You struggled to breathe as Gojo laid himself on top of you, breathing fast. He rocked his hips against your knot, already trying to drag another orgasm out of himself. His arms slid under your back, pulling your chest to his. "You're all I have now, Y/N," he whispered, "so please, don't leave.”

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notaboypossiblyagenius · 10 days

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Dermatophagia — E. Prentiss.

a/n: short little blurb on baby emily because nobody ever talks about the feeling of impending doom that must’ve lingered after coming back to the U.S. from the Valhalla mission.

wc: ~600

warnings: nail biting, bleeding, pining so subtle it’s almost not there? no use of y/n, first thing i’ve written since 2022, very little dialogue, not proof read mwuahaha

feedback, comments, and reblogs are always super very appreciated:3

Emily watched as the blood pooled in the small divot between her skin and her nail, the stream of liquid soon expanding to fill the space. It served as a distraction, the repetitive process of picking, bleeding, healing became a reprieve from the feeling of impending doom that always managed to creep over her shoulder. She was too caught up in the sight to realize you’d joined her in the small space of her desk.

“Em, is that blood?” you muttered, reaching for her hand which proved to be useless as she quickly pulled it back with a startled look on her face.

“God! When’d you get here?” She said, turning her gaze from your unamused face to where you sat at the edge of her desk, arms folded over your chest. “We need to put a bell on you or something.”

“Haha, funny.” You replied, unfolding your arms as you reached out for her hand again, this time successfully. Your eyes scanned Emily’s finger which was now bordering mutilation, the skin around her nails uneven and torn. You never understood how she could do it, how in a matter of seconds her fingers could resemble the gruesome scenes you encountered day to day.

“Seriously, are you bleeding?” a redundant question from your end because it was very clear she was. Emily had to bite her tongue to keep the sarcastic comment that had developed like a reflex on a leash.

“Why do you pick your nails?” you asked, your eyes scanning the wound as you placed a napkin over the spot before looking back up at her. You were met with an anxious look, one that reminded you of a child who was scared of being scolded. She tilted her head from side to side, unsure of what to say, and as she did so her hair shifted from behind her ear in a way that made you want to tuck it back into place.

“I don’t know,”

“I don’t usually think about it,” she said, the way you hadn’t let go of her hand made her heartrate pickup, and she tried not to over analyze how you chose to place it on your lap. The contrast between her cold hands and your warm fingers holding the napkin in place made her want to seek out more of that warmth.

She shouldn’t be surprised you were helping her; you’d always go out of your way to swat at her hands whenever they began a path up to her mouth, or place a cup of coffee in them in an attempt to keep them from meeting their demise. She often wondered why you did so, as nobody else really bothered; yet, she never asked. Instead, she’d just allow it. She’d secretly relish in the fact that somebody finally noticed, even if she pretended to hate it.

“That much I've picked up on,” you said softly, a faint smile on your lips as you discarded the napkin that was now stained with blood. Your grip tightened slightly on Emily’s hand as you reached for the trash can, almost as if you were refusing to let it go.

For a moment, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts. Emily looked down at your intertwined hands and felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through her chest, something she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time. She wasn't used to being cared for—not like this. And while she could pretend all she wanted, the truth was, she liked it.

Maybe that's why she hadn’t pulled away, because for the first time in a very long time Emily wasn’t the only one looking out for Emily.

#emily prentiss #my own fics #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds fanfiction

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flowersandbigteeth · 5 months

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Meeting your Alpha in the King's Dungeon

A/N: This was someone's request, but I lost the request, so I'm sorry but here it is!

(Alpha) Riordan x GN Omega Reader

General Summary: You've been summoned to a magical world to soothe beast they call Alpha.

Word count: 6.5K

TW: cozy alpha/omega dynamic, kidnapping to another world, gentle alpha, mention of war and a small bit of violence, alpha/omega smut, nesting, knotting, and biting

You woke, your back cold. This wasn't you bed. You smelled something burning, maybe sage or thyme. It smelled herbal.

“Open your eyes, pretty, I know you're awake,” a nasally voice said.

Your eyes blinked open, and you squinted at the light. Sitting up, you found yourself in a well-lit room. It looked like a sort of lab with glass vessels filled with brightly colored liquids. Sunlight poured in the large windows. The glass was thick and uneven, making the world outside blurry. It had to be old and crudely cast to look like that.

“Welcome to my world, little omega,” the voice said.

You turned to see an old man in a purple robe, looking at you expectantly. He was rather short but had oddly long fingers. His face was gnarled with wrinkles, and his teeth were jagged and yellow as if they'd been broken.

“Omega?” you murmured, trying to make sense of the place.

You'd gone to bed as you did every night, yet you woke up here. Where was here?

“Where am I?” You asked.

“I'm sure you have many questions,” he chuckled, “but I don't care to answer them. You may not live long enough for it to matter, and I'm short on time.”

“What?” You gasped, instinctively hopping up, but your body was not yours.

The old man waved a gnarled claw, and you rose off the stone slab where he’d laid you and drifted behind him through a heavy wooden door.

“Hey, where the fuck am I? Who are you?” You snapped at him, wriggling, desperate to escape.

It was no use; whatever…magic he'd used on you kept you bobbing aloft just behind him. As he descended steep stone steps, he mumbled to himself.

“I'm sure I've gotten the signature right this time,’ he muttered. “The last specimen’s pheromones were muddled. Theirs is much more pure. It has to work.”

He stopped at a heavy iron door with a guard beside it holding a pike.

“Help me! This guy is kidnapping me!” you shouted to him.

The guard's eyes slid to you for a moment, and you detected the slightest bit of pity.

“Open the damn door!” The old man snarled. “The king will have all our heads if this doesn't work!”

The guard gave you another somber glance before finding a ring of keys on his waist and unlocking the door.

You did not want to go into the dark, smelly place he was taking you, but you floated like a feather on the wind right after him.

Around you, large shadows loomed behind thick bars. Red eyes peered at you from the gloom. It was quiet at first but then…whatever they were started beating at their cages, howling like beasts. You could only see flashes of sharp teeth and claws. Fear silenced you and you only let out a miserable whimper.

“Ah, here we are,” he said, stopping at one cell.

The creature inside roared his outrage at the sound of the old man’s voice.

There was the sickening snap of wood, and what must have been a bunk came flying at the bars.

“Now, now, Riordan,” he clucked. “I have a new toy for you to play with. Don't rip this one to bits this time, hmm? If this works, you'll see sunlight soon.”

The old man, swifter than he looked, opened the gate and tossed you inside. You landed in a pile on the floor and heard the ominous click of the metal lock behind you.

You crab-walked back towards the gate, terrified of what creature he’d trapped you with. Were you to be food? He'd stolen you from your bed just to feed this…thing?

In the dark, you could only see red eyes, glaring at you, set in a massive form. It must have been eight feet tall and two times the width of a linebacker.

“Please, please,” you whimpered. “Don't eat me.”

The creature parted its lips and you could make out massive, sharp teeth. Instead of pouncing on you, it lifted its nose, sniffing the air.

Staring at it, petrified with fear and confusion, you watched its red eyes dim to a soft glowing green…like sunlight filtering through leaves in spring. They were…pretty.

The creature took a heavy step forward, his wide feet emitting a deep thud. He seemed interested in you.

“H-hey,” you stammered. “That's a good…whatever you are…I'm a friend, not food.”

His eyes narrowed on you, and a large hand emerged from the shadows. You held your breath, ready to be torn apart, but he only patted your head, as if you were a kitten.

“Fascinating!” The old man said.

At his voice, the creature growled, then let out a loud roar that sounded more desperate than angry. You shrieked and jumped out of his way as he rushed the door, throwing his shoulder against the bars. A blue light flashed in front of you, and the creature flew back into the far wall, collapsing into a pile with a heavy thunk.

“I think it's worked!” The old man muttered. “He hasn't torn the arms off of the specimen. Further observations are necessary, but I must report this to the King!”

“Hey!” You shouted as he scurried away, careful not to touch the bars. “You can't leave me here!”

The old man ignored you, and with a slam, the heavy metal door swung shut behind him.

Around you, other creatures growled in the darkness, pacing the length of their enclosures. Unsure what to do, you tiptoed towards the shadowy figure slumped against the far wall.

“You okay, big guy?” You asked. “He didn't kill you, did he?”

Even though the creature was terrifying, you felt for him. No wonder he was in a bad mood being locked up in a dark, smelly cage.

He let out a low groan, and you extended a hand, brushing his hair. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see he looked more human than monster. His teeth were far too large to be truly human, and the features of his face were too rugged, with harsh lines and a pronounced brow. Still, he wasn't ugly. He had an attractive cut to his jaw, and his hair, though it needed a brushing, was soft and maybe blond. It was hard to tell in the dark.

A heavy hand grabbed your wrist, and you screamed, trying to yank your arm back. It was no use; he was too strong. Was this when he ripped your arm off? You braced for pain, but he only lifted his head and sniffed the inside of your wrist.

“You…smell…amazing,” he said.

His voice was low and rough, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. His eyes opened, and he looked up at you. They still glowed, but the red hadn't returned.

“Y-you can talk?” You gasped.

He let out a chuff devoid of humor.

“I was human…once,” he said. “I can remember now. I used to talk a lot.”

“If you're not human, what are you?” You asked.

“An experiment,” he growled, squeezing your wrist.

You whimpered, and he looked up at your hand, suddenly letting it go. He looked slightly ashamed.

“I'm sorry, I,” he muttered. “I'm nothing but a monster now.”

“Did that old man do this to you?” You asked. “Who is he?”

He tipped his head back against the stone wall behind him.

“The King's chief sorcerer,” he said. “He took us all from the army, injected us with Goddess know what, and we became like this.”

He clutched his head.

“I don't know how long it's been,” he moaned. “For so long, I could only see red, and then you came along.”

His eyes focused on you.

“I'm just a normal person,” you said. “I’m not sure what I could have done.”

He leaned forward, burying his face in your chest.

“Oh!” You squeaked.

“Your scent,” he murmured. “the world becomes clear when I’m near you. You chase the red away.”

His big arms circled you, and he pulled you into his lap, tucking his nose behind your ear. You felt the heat of his breath grazing your skin and shivered in his arms.

“I like you here,” he murmured. “Well, not here…but with me.”

“O-Oh,” you stammered. “Well, just your luck then, huh? Seems I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He let out another dry chuff. It was as if he'd forgotten how to laugh, but he was trying to remember.

“Where are we?” You asked. “I went to bed somewhere else.”

He hummed, thinking as he ran a heavy mitt over your head.

“We must be in the South, near the Capital,” he said.

“But where?” You asked. “I'm from Earth…(Y/C)? Heard of it?”

He shook his head.

“No, this is Swarin,” he said. “I've never heard of Earth or…(Y/C). Is it across the sea? Only pirates go that far.”

“I don't think so,” you said. “The old asshole called me Omega. Do you know what that means?”

At that, he nodded.

“I don't really understand all the alchemy behind it,” he said in a low grumble. “But I'm an Alpha. A monster. And you…are soft and delicate, an Omega. We…are compatible…I think.”

“Compatible?” you hummed.

“The sorcerer has been looking for Omegas. There aren't any in Swarin. He's brought down samples…but they never did…what you do.”

“What happened to them all? The samples?” You whispered.

He let out a low groan.

“I don't know, but I can guess,” he said. “I only remember screams…and blood.”

His deep voice cracked.

“What I did…” he sniffled. “What have I become? Why won't they destroy me?”

He pressed you to him like a teddy bear, and you felt moisture on your neck where he'd tucked his head.

Your heart raced, but you reached up and rubbed his cheek.

“It's….it's okay,” you said. “That wasn't you. The old man, the sorcerer, did this…you have no control. When I first saw you, you were out of your mind.”

“I would have killed you,” he sobbed.

You patted his head.

“But you didn't,” you said. “I think …I hope it's okay now.”

You both looked up as you heard the rusty squeak of the metal door open.

“This way, your Radiance,” you heard the sorcerer say.

“This better be good, Elias,” another voice grumbled. “God, this place smells like rotting meat.”

“Don't mind that it's the beasts. They tear apart rats for fun. Come, come. This way,” he replied.

A man with a crown appeared next to the sorcerer in front of the cell. He wasn't quite so old but had a white beard and a regal countenance.

“Look, your Radiance,” he said. “See how the beast is soothed? He clutches the specimen like a pet.”

The king looked at the two of you with interest.

“And you have a source for these…Omegas?” He asked.

“Yes, your Radiance!” He said, clicking his long nails together with delight. “I've found a world through the ether filled with Omegas. This is only the first. I can bring many here. Once we pair the Alphas, they will become useful.”

“They’d better be,” the King snarled, obviously annoyed. “This whole project has been a mess from the start. You promised me super soldiers, and what I’ve gotten is uncontrollable monsters. Can the thing speak?”

You frowned at his description of Riordan as a “thing." He was monstrous, yes, but he had been human once- he still had a soul.

“Riordan,” the sorcerer snapped. “Greet your king!”

Riordan let out a low growl that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

The King looked unimpressed.

“If you don’t cooperate, I will take your new pet from you,” Elias hissed. “You want to keep them, don’t you? If you are good, you will not be separated. You’ll have good food and sunlight. You’ll leave this dungeon, but you must speak like a man, not a beast.”

Riordan bared his teeth, but you patted his hand.

“Speak to him, Riordan,” you whispered. “It’s a step forward. You’re not alone now. We’ll figure this out together.”

His jade eyes flicked to you and then back up to the King.

“Your- Your Highness…apologies,” he ground out.

The King smiled and patted Elias on the back.

“Excellent work,” he said. “Secure the beast and bring him to our war camp for a demonstration in the morning.”

He looked a little sickly.

“I can’t spend another moment in this filth,” he grumbled, turning on his heels and marching out of the door.

The sorcerer looked at the two of you hungrily.

“You heard the King,” he said. “Time to return to the surface. Guards! Bring the collars!”

A handful of guards appeared holding two metal collars. One big and one small.

“Go in there and apply them!” He told them, and they all looked horrified at one another. No one moved.

“Go in now,” he snapped, clapping. “you're going to comply, aren't you, Riordan? Because you want to keep the Omega?”

Riordan narrowed his eyes, but you squeezed his hand.

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Maybe they'll give us some real food.”

You tried to sound positive. Riordan looked at you, then lowered his head.

“I will comply,” he said.

The guards slowly entered the cell, the one holding the collars first.

“Don't mind the collars,” the sorcerer told you. “They are a good thing. They keep you tied together with an invisible tether so your enemies can't separate you on the battle field.”

“What else do they do?” You asked, not believing the sorcerer for a moment.

“They also have the same energy as the bars,” he said. “If either of you misbehave, you can be punished.”

You looked warily at the soldier holding your collar, but you reasoned that the collar may be easier to escape than the dungeon, so you remained still as he snapped it around your neck. The cold metal was uncomfortable but could be tolerated.

The soldiers were eager to get out of Riordan's way as he rose, stepping heavily towards the gate with you in his arms.

The sorcerer looked pleased.

“Now to the baths,” he said. “You can't perform for the King stinking like you do.”

Riordan gave you an uncertain look, and you nodded just slightly.

“It's okay,” you whispered. “Won't a bath be nice?”

You watched his jaw twitch, but he followed silently behind Elias as he led you past the thick iron door. The baths were across the building you were in. Outside of the dungeon, it was quite nice, with potted plants and paintings of flowering meadows decorating the stone walls. Sun filtered in through leaded glass windows, giving you a glimpse at the land you’d been summoned to. From what you could see, there were more stone buildings with people going about their days.

“You have thirty minutes,” a guard barked sharply, drawing your attention back to the task at hand.

He opened a door, and steam scented like lavender drifted out. The room was tiled with a blue and white motif, with a large blue pool in the center. Riordan set you down, attempting to lift your shirt from your back.

“Hey! I can do that!” you snapped.

His eyes flashed, but not red, a rich gold, and he looked contrite.

“I can’t help it, Omega. My instincts tell me to tend to you.”

You huffed. You weren’t sure what to make of this dynamic, but Riordan seemed bent on caring for you. If it kept the red away, you figured you ought to allow it.

“Fine! Go on, but ask next time.”

You eyed him carefully.

“I’m not used to your size.”

A smirk grew on his lips, and a deep noise rumbled in his chest. It sounded like…a happy cat, but deeper. More of a rumble, like thunder from far away.

“Are you purring?” you ventured.

“I think it is natural to calm my Omega…the wizard told me many things I didn’t understand until now.”

He tugged your shirt from you, then your pants, and paused, his fingers skimming the underwear you wore. Though you weren’t used to being naked in front of a stranger, you couldn’t bathe in your underwear. You leveled him with a stern stare.

“Continue, but don’t get any bright ideas.”

He nodded, slipping the small garments off of you. When you were ready, he dipped you in the hot water, following close behind when he’d removed his own clothes. The second he got settled in the water, he scooped you into his lap and started to scrub you.

“What are you doing now?” you rasped.

Underneath you, you could feel all of his power; the massive muscles, hard planes against your soft skin, and something…large poking you in the back.

“You smell…like strange things. I will wash you, then I will scent you.”

You figured that if he had a better-than-average sense of smell, he would probably be able to smell the cheap soap you used, which was filled with chemicals.

“What does ‘scent you’ mean?” you asked as he lifted your arm.

As the smell of rot from the dungeon washed away, you were suddenly aware of a sweet cinnamony smell coming from Riordan.

“I need to mark my Omega, so others know you’re mine,” he said, seeming proud that he could recall such facts. “It will not hurt.”

“Oh…Okay…”

He was very methodical, making sure every inch of skin was cleaned. When he was satisfied you were spotless, his nose dipped to the crook of your neck, and he purred.

“You smell so good, Omega,” he breathed into your skin.

The thick shaft pressed against your body thickened and hardened, drawing breath from your lungs.

“We need to clean you,” you stammered, swirling around to straddle him.

His cock patted your most sensitive spot, and it took some effort on your part not to look down. He watched you with wide eyes as you carefully scrubbed his hair with the lavender-smelling soap sitting on the rim of the tub. When you rinsed it away, you found he had pretty wheat-colored hair. Scraping it back with your fingers, he looked a bit more tidy, though he needed a trim. He didn’t wait even a minute after you were done helping him scrub the years of dungeon nastiness away, snuggling into your neck, running the spot just under his ear down your arms.

You yelped, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm.

“Riordan!” you squealed, and he looked up, his cheeks ruddy.

“I have to rub my scent glands on you,” he informed you matter-of-factly before diving back in.

You tried to ignore the heat that pooled in your stomach as his cinnamon scent filled your lungs. Your breath drew short, and every sensitive spot on your body perked up under his touch. You weren’t sure if you were compatible with the giant, but your body certainly believed you were. As he rubbed himself against you, his cock gingerly brushed your stomach. Closing your eyes, you desperately tried to think about anything but sex.

Riordan’s head rose suddenly, cocked to the side.

“The guard is back,” he muttered.

A moment later said guard appeared in the door, grimacing.

“Don’t tell me you’re going at it in the bath, fucking beasts.”

“W-we weren’t-” you started to say, but your words were cut off by a growl.

“Don’t shout at my mate,” Riordan grumbled as he scooped you out of the water. Standing at his full height, looking down on the guard you saw the annoying intruder’s eyes widen, and he took an instinctive step back. Clearing his throat, he waved the pile of clothes he held at him.

“Come on,” he tried to assert, his voice cracking. “The King is waiting.”

You quickly dressed in the light cotton pants and loose shirt he’d provided, having to pause for a moment so Riordan could refresh his scent on the new items.

Though you could walk, you found your legs swinging in the air as your Alpha tucked you in the crook of his arm.

“Where are we going?” you whispered to him as the guard led you out of the building.

“We are at war…or we were. To a war camp, I assume.”

Around you, a pleasant, medieval village buzzed with activity. As you passed, people gaped at Riordan’s size. He was at least a foot and a half taller than the tallest among them. Your eyes danced around the archaic scene with wonder. Where had this wizard spirited you off to?

Ahead of you, a shrill grinding noise drew your attention. With five guards on each size manning lever handles the massive gate of the city opened to a sprawling wilderness. An overgrown cobblestone road cut through the forested hills, flowers blooming through the cracks in the stones. Dappled sunlight spotted the forest floor, lighting falling leaves like sparkling emeralds. In Riordan’s arms you felt him suck in a heavy breath.

“Nice to breathe fresh air, huh?” you asked and he smiled.

Despite the collars, this was far preferable to the stinking dungeon. Your body shook with the pleased purr emanate from his chest. Hours passed, marching along the winding trail. You could only assume it was early spring by the crisp, cool air and the early blooming daffodils growing from every spot of sun.

As you turned a corner Riordan grunted and you glanced up to see him frowning.

“What is it?” you whispered.

“I can smell the camp from here. It’s much closer than it used to be…not a good sign.”

You blinked at him.

“Do you think the war has been going on for all the years you’ve been captive?”

He nodded, jaw ticking, as he held you close.

“I smell blood and rotting flesh.”

You swallowed hard, sniffing the air. Your scene of smell was not any better than it had been and all that you caught was Riordan’s cinnomin and cardamom musk. The Omega emerging inside of you had you cuddling your head into his chest. It was hard to believe you were some magical creature, designed to compliment this massive beast, but your body and instincts were already caught up.

His purr soothed your anxiety and you wanted to roll around in his scent. You wouldn’t have liked them under any circumstances, but the longer you bonded with Riordan the more bloodthirsty thoughts about his captors filled your mind.

Freedom, your Omega crooned, Freedom to mate, to nest, to rear his pups.

Before you could catch yourself, you were fisting his shirt, the urge to rearrange it to your liking driving your fingers.

“Soon, Omega,” he purred. “Soon you can make your nest.”

The impatient, emerging Omega huffed at him. He chuckled, allowing himself a moment of amusement before his attention returned to the road ahead. The sounds of metal clanging and shouting soldiers signalled your arrival.

The camp was an ugly, dirty place. Smokey bonfires smothered your breaths and soldiers, some clearly injured, covered in blood scuttled around. Your guard guided the two of you through the hastily erected tents. Some were merely a bit of leather stretched between some odd poles. The one you stopped at was the finest of them all, made with lengths of canvas and gold and silver threads.

“Gold threads at a war camp? A waste,” Riordan scoffed quietly, following your eyes. “Money would be better spent on bandages and rations. The enemy doesn’t care for such indulgences.”

You blinked up at him.

“You know a lot about war?”

His eyes narrowed as he thought.

“I believe I ranked captain when I was taken.”

“Wait here,” the guard ordered before he entered the tent. A moment later the king emerged surrounded by his entourage.

He smiled up at the both of you, not a friendly smile. It was calculating and cool.

“Enjoy the walk, creature?” he asked, his lips carrying a smirk. “Nice to be out in the sun again, isn’t it?”

You felt the growl building in your Alpha’s chest and patted him to calm him. He glanced down at you and you flicked your head just slightly to tell him not to fight this. Instead, he gave the King a half bow, careful not to jostle you.

Pleased, the King smacked his hands together.

“Now is the time to work for your supper,” he announced. “You’ll be accompanying a regiment to flank the enemy in the hills. If you make it back and do as your told, there will be food for your return.”

“We will not be fed now?” you asked. “He will need energy to fight your enemy.”

The King scowled at you and one of his guards slammed his spear into the dirt.

“Learn to show your king proper respect,” he snarled.

You felt Riordan’s arm tighten around you, but he gritted out an apology.

“Please excuse my Omega. They are not used to our ways.”

He set you down, patting your head.

“Stay here where it’s safe. I’ll be back soon.”

The King laughed outloud.

“Oh no, your little Omega will be going with you. I’ll have no mishaps if you go rogue.”

At that Riordan growled.

“It’s too dangerous. They are not a soldier!”

This time the guard rubbed a strange crystal he had around his neck and Riordan spasmed as his collar shocked him.

“Silence creature, you’ll do as your King wills!”

You tugged on his shirt, asking to be picked back up. King’s edict or no, you didn’t want to leave Riordan’s side. He gave you a wary glance before he scooped you back up, panting from the shock.

“Aye, your majesty,” he finally said on a heavy breath.

The King gave Riordan a haughty look, high on the idea that this creature served him, only.

“Escort them to the battlefield!” he announced before returning to the comfort of his tent.

The soldiers around you looked wary, be it from Riordan’s great size or what lay ahead, you couldn’t tell. However, this time you smelled your destination long before you arrived. The scent of death was on the wind.

As you drew closer, the scent wound around the sound of screaming and metal clanging. In either realm, you’d never seen a battle before and it was nothing like the movies. All of the parts were there, dead bodies, swords, shields, sweating soldiers, but it was all so much more. At the back, some captain shouted orders, but nothing about this seemed orderly. The soldiers had long broken whatever formation they had been in and it was clear the enemy had them pressed.

“This is no good. The King will be overtaken by nightfall,” Riordan whispered to you.

The captain seemed acutely aware of this fact, a bit of hope in his expression when Riordan appeared.

“Into the fray beast!” he shouted. “Drive them back or we’ll all be skewered!”

Needing his hands, Riordan reluctantly put you down.

“Stay close, Omega,” he murmured, his large jaw setting.

Your heart pattered in your chest, holding on the the back of his shirt as he waded into the bloody mess. Enemies flew at him swords raised, but he threw them back with little more than a wave of his arm. You tried to stifle your screams, lest he be distracted, shuffling behind him. The enemy was thick, bearing down on the two of you from seeming every direction.

You jerked a dagger loose from one of the bodies you past, swinging it at a soldier who’d gotten too close.

The enemy’s face was hidden by silver armor carrying a massive sword. A desperate scream emerged from your chest as he bore down on you with the sharp end of the blade. Riordan turned to come to your rescue, but it was too late. The sword made contact with the collar around your neck, knocking you sideways. Riordan roared, grabbing the soldier and ripping his sword arm off. You gasped in the bloody mud of the battlefield, prepared to meet you maker. Only, you didn’t die…in fact, you weren’t hurt at all. The collar around your neck slipped off you, sliced clean in half.

Free, you sat up, eyes wide with confusion. Riordan, however, was quick and sharp, prying the sword from the disembodied arm’s grasp.

“Elven metal,” he gasped, green eyes glowing.

Before you could question him, you’d been tossed over his shoulder and he made a B-line to the forest’s edge. In the chaos, your guards hadn’t even noticed, busy fighting back the enemy the best they good. As soon as you were safely past the treeline, he turned the sword, which looked like little more than a cooking knife in his hand, to his own neck. The collar popped off with little trouble and Riordan massaged the sore skin where he’d been burned.

“What now?” you gasped, still eyeing the battle behind you with concern.

“Now we run,” he announced.

Before you could respond, he picked you back up and sprinted into the forest.

“Where are we going?” you asked as trees flew by.

“The mountains, it ought to be safe there.”

There was little you could do but hold on tight and peek over his shoulder to be sure you weren’t followed. You must have dozed off, because you woke in a strange place…on a bed. The sheets were itchy wool, but warm enough. In fact, you were quite warm. Blinking you looked around. A cheery fire roared in a stone fireplace and the scent of the stew boiling in a pot filled your lungs. You found yourself in a little cabin. There was only one room, but it came furnished with the bed you were on, a rocking chair, and a small table with a log bench.

“Riordan?” you called, though you were the only person in the room.

A few moments later the door opened. You could see it was snowing outside and a puff of icy air hit your face.

Your alpha brushed snow off his shoulders before he smiled at you.

“You slept a long time Omega,” he chuckled, handing you a pile of what looked like linens.

“What’s this?” you asked. “Where are we?”

“In the mountains.”

You looked down at the pile he’d set on your lap.

“What are these?’

“Some blankets for your nest. They’re not very nice, but I’ll get you better ones soon.”

“Where did they come from?”

“The orc village next door. After I dropped you off here, I went looking for food and stumbled on some very surprised orcs.

They have no great love of humans, so when I explained our situation, they asked if I would join their patrol in exchange for some supplies to get us started. With my size, they see me as one of their own, I suspect.”

“They don’t mind we’re staying in this cabin?”

He shook his head.

“It’s a patrol cabin, we’d be staying in it anyway. We can stay as long as we like, or move into the village if we want.”

He grinned, pleased he could provide for you. Your Omega side purred in your head and without thinking you started organizing the furs and blankets to form a proper nest. It came instinctively to you, where everything ought to go for maximum comfort. While you were busy with that, Riordan shuffled about the cabin, straightening things and finally spooning two bowls of stew for you.

“C’mon Omega,” he said, setting your soup on the table. “You can fuss more with your nest after dinner.”

"Your eyes are still green? I thought you'd go red without me."

His eyebrows jumped as he considered that thought.

"I think with your scent all over me, it held it off. Perhaps it will work even better when I've given you my bite."

Your cheeks warmed at the prospect of his teeth on your neck.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the warm food filled your stomach. After all you’d been through, you felt safe. The cabin was already filled with Riordan’s comforting scent. Belly full and your nest on it’s way to a proper state, your Omega mind turned it’s attention to other matters. Your eyes drifted over Riordan’s strong shoulders, down to his thick hands. You’d always liked hands and his long strong fingers, lined with stiff veins sent heat pooling in your core.

He looked up from his soup suddenly, sniffing the air and giving you a wicked smile.

“Are you ready for me, Omega?” he asked and you didn’t have to wonder what he meant.

Your body already knew. Purring, he abandoned his meal and gently set you in your nest, examining your features closely. Your cheeks burned under his careful inspection and some feral part of you wanted to tear off his clothes.

His green eyes flashed gold and a smug smirk spread across his lips.

“Present yourself to me, Omega,” he purred. “Invite me into your nest.”

Those words in his grumbly bass, flicked a switch inside you. Your logical self slipped into a fog of lust, your instincts telling you to undress. With trembling hands you tugged your shirt over your head, then slipped off your pants, finally your damp underwear went. As nature told you, you scooted to the back of your nest to make room for his big body, then tipped your head to expose your neck to him.

He thundered his approval with a deep growl.

“Sweet little Omega,” he hummed, crawling across the sheets to you like a hungry panther. Your first kiss was soft and sweet, but was soon followed by his greedy mouth, eating you up. Your tongues and teeth clashed. He seemed desperate to taste you, pushing you onto your back to pin you to the bed.

“Let me out,” he growled, his husky demands making your spine arch.

Your most secret place wept for him, smearing your desire across the blankets you’d arranged. You carefully unfastened his pants, his cock bobbing to greet you. Precum dribbled down the length of it and you gave it a curious stroke. It was so big, hot, and ready for you. Under your touch, he hissed in pleasure, egging you on. It seemed impossible that that would fit inside of you, but you wanted to try. You wanted to please him, seduce him, so he’d give you his bite.

The concept echoed in the haze enveloping your mind.

His bite? He’s going to bite me.

You weren’t afraid. You knew in some primordial corner of your consciousness that his bite was good. It was exclusive. With his bite you were his and he was yours.

When your gentle teasing became too much, he flipped you on your stomach, big hand fisting your hair.

“You were made for me, omega, but I won’t force you,” he informed you. “Tell me now. Do you want my bite?”

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, eyelashes fluttering at the pressure on your scalp.

“Be a good Omega and say the words,” he chided.

“Yes, Alpha…I want your bite,” you whispered.

“When we are like this, you will always call me Alpha.”

“Yes, Alpha,” you moaned, body lighting up as you did what was natural to you and submitted.

He let out a possessive chuff and you felt him nudge your legs further apart to accommodate his width. You were already plenty wet, but Riordan needed his scent in your most secret place, spreading his precum on your clenched channel.

His sticky fingers drifted over your body, covering you in his essence. You were his and he needed you to know it.

“All of this is mine,” he hummed in somewhat of a trance, stuffing his fingers into your mouth so you could taste him.

Unable to speak, you whimpered and sucked, the flavor of his spice on your tongue. While the fingers of one hand pushed into your mouth, the other tested your slick tunnel. Your muscles clenched at his intrusion, pleasure and need forcing you to push your hips back to seek your pleasure.

“Good omega,” he purred, pushing another finger inside, “You’re going to take me just fine.”

After thrusting and scissoring until your arms collapsed under you, your face pressed into the pillow and you ass sticking up, you felt the round head of his cock pushing against your core.

“Relax. You can take it.”

Tears slid down your cheeks as he entered you. He was large, extremely large, but your body performed some kind of Omega magic, stretching to accommodate him. He let out a gutteral grunt as he bottomed out inside.

“So tight and hot.”

He gave you one small thrust, to test you.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes, alpha!” you wailed into the pillow.

You’d had sex before, but it was nothing like the sense of sheer domination you felt with his massive cock moving in you. Your pleasure was his, your body was his, your mind was his.

“Show me your neck.”

You tipped your head to bare your skin to him. He settled a hand on the spot where your throat and shoulder came together, holding you open for him as he slowly revved up his thrusts. With every ragged drive your mind unwraveled.

Your alpha was fucking you. Your body gave him pleasure. Your cheeks burned with a sense of Omega accomplishment. You’d lived your whole life not knowing that this was what you were made for. Your heady mewls filled the little cabin as he rutted you. He curled his hands around your body, playing with your sex with his fingers. His touch drove you deeper and deeper into madness and you whimpered for more, pleading and begging into the pillow.

He pushed you higher and higher until you were ready to implode. Seeing the time was right, Riordan bared his teeth, sinking them into your neck. It was impossible to tell if he timed it just right to bite as you came or if the bite caused you to cum, but it really didn’t matter. Suddenly you were in the stars, a sensation beyond an orgasm rolling through you along with the heat of your Alpha’s cum spilling into you.

It felt good, and right, and explosive. You let out a yelp as colors sparkled in your vision and pressure built in your channel.

“Wh-what?” you could only stammer.

“Shhh, shhh, Omega, all is well. You’ve taken my knot.”

He rocked the engorged rock into you as he stroked the most pleasurable spot with your fingers. The pressure turned into bliss and you melted into him as he licked the bite on your neck.

“You did so good, taking my bite and my knot,” he purred, calming you. “You are a perfect Omega…so perfect.”

He rolled on his side, smoothly taking you with him so as not to disturb the shaft linking the two of you.

“I’m yours now?” you squeaked, thoughts still scattered.

It was the only thing you could put together.

“Yes, sweet one. You’re mine.”

You let your body relax, his scent perfuming your nest. You were safe, marked, and all was as it should be.

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targaryen-dynasty · 10 months

Note

Gif 16 for Daemon 🤓 and maybe size kink? You can add a kink if it fits the story! And I'm happy with any AU... you can decide!😄

Thank uu!! 💕

KINKTOBER SLEEPOVER.

No. 10 -> GIF.

Modern!Daemon Targaryen x fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, reverse cowgirl, overstimulation, size kink, dumbification, cream pie, daddy kink, praise kink, power imbalance, dacryphilia, slight gaslighting, pussy slapping, female reader, modern Daemon

WORDS: 1.4 K

NOTES: Hello and welcome to my modern!Daemon debut. Added a few kinks to this lmao. I hope it lives up to your expectations and thanks for requesting this Vanessa. 🤍

You had long stopped bouncing up and down on Daemon’s thick cock like a dumb bunny, reduced to nothing more than a squirming and whining mess with orgasm number three rippling through your body.

He had a strong arm snaked around your waist to keep you firmly pinned against his broad chest, fingers intertwined for you to keep yourself grounded, whilst his other hand had made itself at home between your legs, rubbing your clit with reckless abandon. It sent wave after wave of fire through your veins, the burning between your legs apparent by the way you squeezed them shut only for him to pry them apart right after.

Tilting your head forwards, you caught a glimpse of his thick cock splitting your poor pussy open, sheathed inside of you and filling you to the brim. That sight alone was arousing enough to push you into a frenzy, mind clouded by his domineering and intoxicating presence. He was so, so much bigger than you, always towering over you and caging you in like a little bird, but you could always leave if you wanted. If.

“Stupid girl makin’ such a mess for me,” Daemon rasped with his nose pressed against your cheek, his calloused fingers smearing the renewed wave of your arousal over your swollen folds, and he felt most of it trickling down his big cock and heavy balls.

It was astonishing he managed to stay hard for so long, since he had reached his own orgasm somewhere between your first and second. “Don’t you like this, baby?”

Uneven breaths shook your body, interrupted by a cry that followed the harsh slap his hand served to your pulsing pussy. The smacking sound of it colliding with your cunt made your wetness more apparent to you, sending heat straight to your cheeks. “I asked you a question.” His voice was sharp, demanding.

“I-I,” you stuttered, your mind too hazy to even process his words in the slightest. “No… Daemon,” you whined, unable to relax with his fingers strumming your clit, “it’s too-too much.”

Daemon mouthed along your jaw, licking up the tears that had brimmed in your eyes and ran down your cheeks. A mocking chuckle fanned over your damp skin, adding to the humiliation you felt. “Don’t call me that,” he rasped, sinking his teeth into your skin. The bite stung, yet it was not at all as uncomfortable as the stinging and burning between your legs. It was the familiar stinging from being stretched out by him, but he was still so big, you had to accommodate him somehow. “Say it, or I’ll get a lot meaner.”

His cock dragging along your sweet spot as he thrusted up into you once elicited a quiet mewl to slip past your lips, your face contorting in both pleasure and pain. “Mh… I-,” you whimpered, tipping your head back and taking in a deep breath. “T-Too much, daddy.”

Knowing you could make use of your safe word if it truly got too much for you, he didn’t stop the ministrations of his fingers, circling your clit and dragging them through your soaked folds.

Daemon groaned against the side of your face as your body subconsciously started to grind back and forth against his hand, sucking him in and practically choking his cock.

“Fuck,” he panted, seemingly needing a few moments to regain his composure. “Just can’t get enough of you and this sweet, little cunt of yours… always driving me mad when she’s squeezing me this tight.” At this point he was just rambling, the praise surging straight to your head – and down between your legs.

The interplay between the stinging pain and pleasure was driving you insane, bordering on the fine line to madness and being oddly addicting. Paired with his praise, the coil in your belly pulled tighter, and not too slowly.

“Your pussy is fuckin’ weeping for me, bunny,” he continued, spurred on by the clenching of your walls around him, “gripping me so tight, fuck, as if she doesn’t want me to leave.”

Daemon had you quivering on his cock, grunts and groans spewed with expletives tumbling over his lips. Your legs clamped around his thighs, locking him balls-deep in hopes of stopping him from thrusting up into you.

“Just one more, c’mon,” he drawled, his other hand releasing yours, darting up to grab your chin and force your face toward him. This allowed him to press his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, his tongue licking its way into your mouth, swirling around yours. The intensity had you squeezing your eyes shut, your whimpers greedily swallowed by him.

As he pulled back to catch his breath, you looked at him with half-lidded eyes, meekly shaking your head. His blue ones, on the other hand, appeared glazed over, hazy with lust as he fucked up into you.

Your mind and body were so filled with Daemon that breathy gasps and quiet whines were the only things leaving your lips, occasionally accompanied by daddies and oh gods.

But Daemon wasn’t having any of it.

He released your face, groping at your breast and pinching your nipple instead, while he dragged the tip of his nose along your cheek. “Oh, yes, you can,” he rasped, mockingly, the softness with which he had spoken before long gone. “Don’t you want to make daddy proud, pretty girl? Huh?” Oh, how badly you wanted to please him and make him proud. You always did.

You whined in despair, no chance for your lips to push into a pout with his thick cock driving deeper, a deliberate thrust of him forcing your pussy to take him.

The motions of his fingers stilled for a moment, and you basked in the feigned calmness of him finally stopping his attack on your clit – only for them to be replaced by the pad of his thumb, applying a bit of pressure as it circled over your little bud.

Your fourth orgasm hit so suddenly that Daemon was surprised. Fucking you through it, he buried his nose in your hair, his wanton groans adding to the pleasure that rippled through you.

“Look at that,” he cooed, his eyes flickering between your fucked-out expression and your tits, mesmerized as they bounced each time he forced his cock back into you. “Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, mh?”

You trembled under his touch as his fingers still continued their assault on your body despite the aftershocks slowly subsiding, not able to focus on his praise.

When you tried to push his hand away, he merely tutted, but was generous enough to give in to your wishes, since you had given him exactly what he desired.

It was not always about fucking you just to spill his seed for him. Sometimes, he just craved to display the dominance he held over you, using you however he pleased, and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of your wrecked, little body.

And tonight, he had done just that.

Releasing a shaky breath, your spent body toppled back against his sturdy frame, secured by his strong arms around your waist. Your heart hammered against your chest, threatening to explode at any given moment with how badly your body was shaking from four overstimulated orgasms.

There was a comfortable silence surrounding you two, only broken by his raspy voice piercing through it. “Up for a shower, sweet thing?” he crooned against the sensitive spot behind your ear before pressing a soft kiss to it, and you didn’t even have to look at his face to know there was a smug smirk adorning his chiseled features.

But with how well he had fucked you, he deserved to be smug about it.

“That sounds good,” you panted, reaching behind you to slowly curl your fingers into his soft, silver tresses, prompting him to gently bump his forehead against the side of your face.

Something reignited the flame inside of him at that moment. Something that came every time you focused your attention on him in a non-sexual way. It was clear he was not done with you yet – not when his half-hard cock still was throbbing inside of you.

However, a shower seemed like a good way to catch a little break for the sleepless night that lay ahead of you.

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d1s1ntegrated · 3 months

Note

body worship. lets give our fav villain (shigaraki) some body worship

shigaraki genuinely is a beautiful fucking person.

his hands are cut up, hangnails and callouses and rough spots. but that doesn't change the fact that they're soft, with slender fingers. so much experience in those hands, so much guilt to carry.

his silky, slightly tangled hair that smells like smoke and sleep and rain. in any state, it's cute, but when it drapes over his angular face and frames the delicately marbled features, is when it looks best.

his tired sanguine eyes, filled with hurt and grief but still so capable of finding love in little things: his friends, video games, the feeling of being known and accepted. so young and tender still, even after everything he's been put through. fluffy white lashes fluttering as he blinks, slowly and lazily.

his cracked, scarred skin. like splits of sunlight rippling on the ocean, or the texture of a hard-worked painting. he's not gross, or crusty, or a freak. he only ever wanted to be okay. it's still nice to touch. he wants to be touched.

he's only 21. twenty fucking one. he never knew what it meant to be a kid, or a teenager. only a machine, put to work but never to rest.

his strong arms and legs are the result of that work. muscles rippling under the pale skin, a testament to all things godly. you wouldn't be able to tell from the baggy clothing he dons, but he's stronger than you'd know. his shoulders wide and buff, trailing down his chest, torso, to a gentle but strong tummy, abs peeking through his t-shirts.

he isn't scrawny or skinny to any degree.

if anything, he's fucking ripped.

when he stretches, his shirt pulls up, to reveal a deep v-line and the sliiiightest amount of squish on his lower tummy, with a scattering of fluffy pale hair dragging down from his navel to underneath the waistband of his pants. an invitation. a map. a command.

to take in the image of him is to worship something more than god.

his smile is the best part. his teeth aren't perfect, but no one asked them to be. sharp canines, the bottom row uneven, and not pure white- he drinks way too much caffeine for that to be possible. it makes his real smile that much more genuine.

his smile is real when you call him beautiful. when you make note of his flaws and rewrite them as details, like chips in glass.

not to mention his other features. his sharp, angular nose. his thin but delicate lips. scars running deep like hills and valleys, it makes him all the more interesting. how it feels to kiss those lips, feeling how he bites them and peels away at the layers of skin. sometimes, it tastes bloody, but it's only a reminder that he's just as human. he tastes like energy drinks and candy and hunger.

he looks like comets and stars and all things bright, blinding, a painful comparison to how dark he feels.

did you know he has a birthmark on his left shoulder blade? did you know he hates how only one of his toes is crooked? or how badly his fingers hurt from having to only use a few of them? did you know that he cracks every part of his body every morning, that his back constantly aches, that he can't stand the way he sounds when he cries?

he may be a villain, yes. he may be sick and evil in the eyes of society.

but he's still a boy. he's still a man. he's still so much more than what he believed he was doomed to become. he's not perfect, but he is still human.

even in his worst moments he is beautiful, a tragic display of what humanity does to those in need.

tenko shimura, the prettiest boy.

thank u for the request <3 i love tomura so fucking much, and he deserves every ounce of worship.

#bnha #mha #myposts #tomura shigaraki #my hero academia #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #shigaraki headcanons #myhcs

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murdrdocs · 1 year

Text

INTERVIEW 003

with. ethan landry

includes. period sex, fem!reader

→ kinktober masterlist

Ethan is a freak who loves period sex.

At first, the suggestion comes from the sheer fact that he’s horny and you’re on your period. He’s trying to subtly imply that he wants to fuck you anyway, but there’s really no way to subtly hint at his desperations so he just settles with attempting to not seem too pushy, fearing that then you’ll break up with him and he’ll be sexless for who knows how long.

He’s all: “I don’t care about the mess” and “I heard sex helps with cramps anyway”. He doesn’t expect it to work, so he’s noticeably ecstatic when you do agree, kisses with too much fervor behind them and wandering hands a physical display of his excitement.

He fucks you like he never has before, blubbering out praises and a string of sounds rather than words. Gripping dents into your skin with the strong way he holds onto you, possibly more so as a way to try and keep his own composure than because he wants to hold you like that. Ethan sucks bruises into your neck and shoulders, and he bites down onto your skin when you clench around him, cunt sensitive from the double abuse it’s been going through lately.

You know he originally started fucking you as pleasure for you, but the ulterior motives were there all along and the sex ends up being more about him.

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you unconsciously gush around him, another flow of blood slipping out of your walls when you adjust your position a little. His blunt nails dig into the skin of your waist, sliding down all the way to your hips and around to your ass when he bunches the flesh in both large palms.

“Fuck. That, whatever that was, felt so good, baby.” His voice is wrecked, sounding gravely in the way it had before when he’d come to you late in the night, both cold and warm, filled to the brim with adrenaline from something unknown to you.

“Blood, E.” Your response is simple, wavering a little as Ethan’s pace increases, each thrust sending you further up into the bed.

He sighs blissfully, a reaction you’ll attempt to dissect later in the shower. He wraps your legs around his hips as he bends down, crowding your space and altering the once comfortable atmosphere into something a little more sinister, even when his voice drips with sweet sincerity.

“Do it again. Please?”

When you tell him that it’s not something you can control, he looks dejected for a second. But then you see the gears turn, and his big brown eyes light up when the idea becomes clearer. Ethan doesn’t tell you what it is, like usual, but you figure out what the idea could’ve been when he fucks you through the night, bringing you to an orgasm after an orgasm until the towel beneath you is more red than white and it’s even soaked through with the combination of your blood and arousal.

You catch Ethan admiring it when you’ve finished, satisfied with the amount you’d gushed around him. His sweat drips down his chest that rises and falls at an uneven pace as he attempts to catch his breath, a beaming smile on his face, perfect white teeth on display, and his eyes wide and brighter than you’d ever seen.

There’s something off about Ethan, but you can’t decipher it when you’re recovering from some of the best sex you’ve ever had with him.

#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑 #ethantobr!#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream smut

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goblinontour · 2 months

Text

Happenstance

or when it all came down for him

part 6 | series masterlist

warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rimming (m/f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), piv, fluff, angst, crying, lots of feelings, he’s a mess

word count: 14.7k

The morning light poured into Alex's kitchen, scattering rays across the room, casting a warm, golden hue that brought a sense of serenity to the space. The small table by the window, where the two of you sat, seemed almost magical in the soft glow. The sunlight filtered through the leaves outside, creating a delicate pattern of lights and shadows that danced on the walls, adding to the peaceful ambiance of the morning.

Alex sat across from you, shirtless, wearing a pair of faded shorts that had clearly seen better days. They were frayed at the edges, and the colour had long since faded from repeated washings, but they were his favourite pair, so comfortable that he refused to part with them.

He’d gotten a haircut a few days ago, and his hair still bore the uneven signs of the fresh trim. The sides were too short, while the top was a messy tumble that defied any attempt to tame it. You had to suppress a smile at how it made him look slightly boyish, though no less handsome.

He was an effortless vision of rugged charm, his skin glowing warmly in the morning light, muscles relaxed, exuding that casual confidence that drew you in. As he ate a piece of toast, you couldn't help but watch him, enamoured by the simplicity of the moment. There was something so special to you about seeing him in this unguarded state, doing nothing more than enjoying his breakfast.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, catching you in the act of staring. A small smile played on his lips, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. You took a sip of your tea to cover your embarrassment, the warmth of the drink soothing your nerves. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the sounds of the morning. A bird chirping outside, the distant hum of early traffic, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Despite basically living in the same house, as you'd spent nearly every night here for months now, you didn't often get moments like this. One of you always left before the other, rushing off to classes or some errands, rarely getting the chance to savour the quiet intimacy of a shared morning. It was nice, really nice, to finally have him all to yourself, without the usual interruptions or the ticking clock pushing you apart.

He cherished these rare, unhurried mornings. Watching you across the table, sipping your tea with that slight smile playing on your lips, he felt a sense of peace that was hard to come by before. He was used to the constant movement, the early mornings where he left you sleeping soundly, or the late nights when he’d slip into bed after you’d already drifted off. But this. This was different.

He admired the way the morning light highlighted your features, casting a soft glow that made you look ethereal. You were beautiful, always, but there was something about the quiet moments that made you seem even more so to him. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, with such genuine affection, or the way you seemed to savour every moment, as if you were storing them away for the days when life would inevitably get in the way.

Alex took another bite of his toast, unable to keep the smile from his face. He didn’t need grand gestures or elaborate plans. This was enough. More than enough. Just being here with you, in the comfort of his own kitchen, sharing a simple breakfast, was more precious than he could put into words. It was in these small moments that he felt the depth of his feelings for you, realising just how much you’d become a part of his life, his routine, his heart.

“You know, I've been thinking about something.” Alex said, breaking the serene quiet. His tone was casual, but you detected an underlying note of excitement.

“What?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. You took another sip of your tea, savouring its warmth.

“We should go back home for the summer,” he suggested, his eyes locking onto yours with a hopeful glint, “It's cooler up north. You could stay with me, I mean, at my place there, if you want. What do you think?”

His words hung in the air, filled with promise and possibility. The thought of spending the summer with him, away from the heat and hustle of the city, and especially not having to hide so much anymore, was incredibly enticing. You imagined the two of you exploring all the places you already knew, but now together, and sharing lazy afternoons in the cool shade

A smile spread across your face as you considered his proposal. The idea of seeing and experiencing the places that had shaped him through his own eyes was thrilling. More than that, it was the chance to actually spend time together properly, not just locked inside of his apartment.

“I think it sounds perfect,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his, "I'd love to go with you."

Alex’s face lit up with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adored, when the faint wrinkles started to show. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a gentle, familiar caress, a silent promise of everything he couldn’t quite articulate.

“Then it's settled.” he said, his voice warm and full of promise. “But…I have something else to tell you.”

You looked at him curiously, sensing a shift in the air. His eyes held a mixture of excitement and a hint of nervousness.

“What is it?” you asked.

Alex took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I’d like to take you home,” he said, his gaze unwavering, “As in, to my parents’ house. To meet them.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The idea itself made you incredibly nervous. Meeting his parents was a big step, one you hadn’t quite prepared for. You hadn't told anyone about your relationship, not one person. Would he expect to meet your parents too? The thought alone was enough to make you break out in a cold sweat. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how that would go. It was overwhelming, a cascade of anxiety threatening to break the serene bubble you'd built around your relationship. Your mind started racing, considering all the implications. The world outside this kitchen alone suddenly seemed too complex, too filled with expectations and judgments.

You felt a rush of nerves, and Alex noticed immediately. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it sweetly, his touch grounding you, pulling you back from your spiralling thoughts.

“Why?” was all you could manage to say.

He wasn’t offended. He could see the hesitation in your eyes and understood. “I might have accidentally told my mum that I’m seeing someone,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, “And now she wants to meet that someone. And that someone is you, sweetheart.” He smiled, his thumb massaging your hand in a reassuring rhythm.

“Oh. Uhm...I haven’t told anyone.” you said, your voice small, barely above a whisper.

“I know.” he replied instantly, his tone gentle. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, but I’d like to.”

You didn’t say anything, still thinking of all the things it would imply. This would be like breaking the little bubble you’d built around your relationship, a bubble you’d managed to keep hidden for so long. Your relationship had been safe from the outside world's scrutiny and expectations. Stepping out of that felt like a leap into the unknown.

“She made fun of me when I talked to her on the phone the other day and it slipped out.” he continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “She said it was ‘about time,’” he paused, smiling to himself as he remembered the conversation, “that I’m getting ‘too old.’” He chuckled, showing the quotation marks with one of his hands while his other hand held yours, his fingers still moving in that same soothing motion over your skin.

You watched him, feeling the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his words. He wasn’t pushing you. He was inviting you, offering you a glimpse into another part of his life. It was a big step, but as you looked into his eyes, filled with affection and understanding, you felt a flicker of hope. It was clear how much this meant to him, and despite your nerves, you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at the thought of being included in this part of his life.

“It’s just…a lot.” you said finally, your voice trembling slightly.

“I know,” he said softly, his eyes filled with understanding. “And we don’t have to rush into anything. But I want you to know that you mean a lot to me.”

“Okay.” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ll meet them.”

His face lit up with a bright smile, and he squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you.” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You’re going to love them,” he added, his excitement palpable, “And they’re going to love you.”

You hoped he was right. This was a new chapter, one that held as much promise as it did uncertainty.

“So, should I book the train tickets, or do you want to get them at the station?” Alex asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

You looked at him, confused. “Why the train? You have a car. Old, like you, but working.”

Alex put a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “Old, like me? Ouch.” he said, his eyes widening in mock hurt. “I’m not that old.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “Oh, come on. You know what I mean.”

He pouted dramatically, his lips forming a playful frown. “I’m in my prime, thank you very much.”

You reached across the table, giving his hand a squeeze. “Sure you are, grandpa.”

He gasped, drawing back in exaggerated shock. “Oh, okay. Now you’ve done it. I’m deeply wounded.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. “Alright, alright. You’re young and spry. Happy?”

“Much better.” he said with a satisfied nod, his playful grin returning. “But seriously, I don’t like driving long distances.” he admitted, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m serious.” he said, trying to sound firm.

“Well, I’m not going on a train with you again. You know how that went.” you replied, the memory of the last train ride flashing through your mind.

Alex smirked, clearly remembering it well. “Well then, you can drive. And for the record, I enjoyed that train ride.”

You rolled your eyes at his relaxed posture as he slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly amused by the situation.

“I’m not driving your old car.”

“It’s not that old.” he chuckled.

“It’s a relic.” you teased. “I’m surprised it even starts.”

“It has character.” he defended, his tone mock-offended.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Okay, fine. I’ll drive. You’ll be my passenger princess. But only because I love you.”

His expression softened, and he leaned forward, pressing another gentle kiss to your hand. “Thank you.” he said, his voice sincere. “I love you too.”

You were finally in the car and onto the road. Finally. Alex had taken longer than you would’ve thought to pack everything. Sure, you would be staying there for quite a while, but he really didn’t have to overthink everything you might need. It was adorable to watch him though, pacing from room to room, remembering that little thing you might need, just in case.

He double-checked the toiletries, triple-checked the clothes, and even packed extra blankets, “just in case it gets chilly at night.” which didn’t make any sense. You stood by the door, shaking your head in amusement as he darted back and forth, grabbing yet another item that suddenly seemed essential.

When he finally declared himself ready, he loaded everything into his not-so-old car and you set off. Despite your initial doubts about it, his car wasn’t bad to drive at all. In fact, it was quite comfortable, and the familiar hum of the engine you’ve come to know from all the rides back home together became a soothing background noise as you navigated the roads.

Alex, taking his role as passenger princess very seriously, immediately started fiddling with the radio, putting on his playlist he made for the journey. Every ten minutes, he would ask if you wanted any water, until you had to tell him to stop. “I’m fine, Alex, really. Relax.” you said, shooting him a playful glance.

“Just making sure.” he replied with a grin, turning the volume up on a favourite song.

The landscape began to change as you drove further from the city, the buildings giving way to fields and trees. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, and the air felt increasingly fresher the further north you went. Alex sang along to the music, his voice mingling with the melody, creating a perfect soundtrack for your journey.

You glanced over at him, feeling a surge of affection. His excitement was contagious, and despite your initial nerves, you felt a growing sense of anticipation. This trip was a new step, a new adventure, and you were glad to be sharing it with him.

As the familiar chords of ‘A Song for You’ by Leon Russell began to play, Alex's face lit up with joy. “Oh, I love this song.” he said, his voice softening with emotion. “It’s one of my all time favourites.”

You glanced over at him, seeing the genuine affection in his eyes as he started to sing along. His voice carried the heartfelt lyrics with a tenderness that made you feel as though he was singing directly to you.

“I've been so many places in my life and time.” he sang, his voice strong yet intimate. As he continued, he glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It always gets to me.” he confessed, his eyes holding yours. “Makes me think of all the things we sometimes don’t say enough, love and gratitude and all that stuff.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice touching something deep within you. The way he connected with the song, the emotion in his eyes, it all spoke volumes about the kind of person he was. He felt deeply, and you knew it caused him trouble sometimes, but it was beautiful.

When he reached the chorus, his voice became even more tender. “And I'm singing this song to you.” he sang, his gaze never wavering from yours. You glanced over at him. His excitement was contagious, and despite your initial nerves, you felt a growing sense of anticipation.

His voice softened as he sang the final lines, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And when my life is over, remember when we were together. We were alone and I was singing this song for you.”

As the song came to an end, Alex leaned back in his seat, a contented smile on his face. “I’m so grateful I have you.” he said softly. “Do you like it?”

You reached over and squeezed his hand, your heart full. “It’s beautiful.” you replied. “And so are you.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hand back. “Thanks.” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I'm glad you think so.”

As you drove, the conversation flowed. Alex talked a lot about his childhood, sharing stories about the places you’d soon visit. His eyes sparkled with nostalgia, and you could tell how much this meant to him.

It was so cute to see him get excited, especially when he reminisced about the familiar spots you both knew. Even though you’d moved away when you were younger, you still visited sometimes, and it was incredible to realise how your paths had been so close without intersecting until you met him as your professor.

“You remember that little candy store on the corner?” he asked, his voice animated.

“Of course!” you replied, laughing. “I used to save up just to buy stuff from there.”

“Same here! I used to go there every Saturday.” he said, shaking his head in amazement.

You smiled at the thought, picturing a younger Alex, excitedly picking out his favourite sweets. “And the old cinema? The outdoorsy one, we went there every summer when we came up here.”

His eyes lit up even more. “That place was like a second home to me. First movie I ever saw at there was ‘The Lion King.’” Alex chuckled, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “And there’s this little bakery in town,” he said, “They make the best apple pie. We have to go there.”

“Apple pie, huh? Is that your secret weakness?” you teased, glancing over at him.

“Maybe.” he admitted with a laugh. “You’ll see. It’s so worth it.”

The miles passed quickly, the road stretching out before you like a ribbon. The car was filled with laughter and music. Alex occasionally reached over to squeeze your hand, wanting to touch you every chance he got.

You two finally arrived at his apartment, the familiar sight bringing back a flood of memories. It was here, in this space, that everything had really started. You remembered the first time you’d stepped through the door, the awkward tension that had quickly melted away. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Alex set the bags down and immediately shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. He began unbuttoning his shirt, a look of relief on his face. “I need to take a shower right now.” he declared. “Maybe you were right, I should probably get a new car. No AC is torture.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he said, rolling his eyes playfully. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist just as you were trying to take off your shoes. “Are you joining or what?” he grinned, his breath warm against your ear.

Before you could respond, he started kissing your neck, his lips trailing soft, teasing kisses along your skin. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, tracing random patterns on your tummy, sending shivers down your spine.

“Alex!” you murmured, half-laughing, half-sighing as you tried to keep your balance while removing your shoes. “You're not making this easy.”

“I never do.” he whispered, his voice low and playful. He turned you around in his arms, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his hands moving to cup your face gently.

You melted into him, the tiredness from the journey and the stress that was haunting you, of eventually meeting his family, all fading away in his embrace. His kiss was warm and inviting, filled with a tenderness that made your heart race.

Pulling back slightly, he looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of desire and affection. “So, what do you say?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur against your lips. “Shower together?”

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for him. “Go ahead, I’ll just be a minute.” you replied, your fingers trailing down his chest as he gave you one last quick kiss before walking away and into the hall bathroom.

You followed Alex into the bathroom just a few moments later. The sound of the water running could be heard from outside. When you opened the door, you found him already under the stream, his hair slicked back from the water pouring over his head. The droplets glistened on his skin, highlighting the contours of his body. He looked like a vision of effortless masculinity, standing there relaxed.

You took a moment to appreciate the sight before starting to undress. As you slipped off your clothes and placed them to the side, you caught Alex eyeing you up and down shamelessly. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of admiration and want.

“Stop it.” you said, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden. He’d seen you countless times, but the way he looked at you always made your heart skip a beat.

Alex's eyes softened, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I can't help it,” he murmured, beckoning you over to join him, “You're beautiful.”

You stepped into the shower, and he immediately wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close. The warmth of his body combined with the hot water was intoxicating. His hands slipped on your skin, gliding effortlessly from the water streaming down the two of you.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your ear. “This feels nice.” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

You leaned back into him, closing your eyes and savouring the moment. “It does.”

For a while, the two of you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, letting the water wash away the exhaustion from the journey. His hands moved in slow, gentle patterns over your skin, massaging your shoulders and back, easing away any remaining tension.

“You're too good at this.” you sighed, almost letting out a soft moan from how good his hands felt on your body.

“Well, I do have some motivation.” he replied, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want you to feel as amazing as you make me feel.”

You turned in his arms, facing him, and cupped his face in your hands. “You always make me feel amazing.” you said softly, pressing your forehead to his.

He smiled at you. “I know a pleasant way to make you feel even better.”

Alex's smile turned into a sultry grin before he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as the water continued to cascade around you. Breaking the kiss, he gently turned you around, pinning you against the shower wall. You gasped as your breasts pressed against the cold tiles, the contrast of sensations making your skin tingle.

He began trailing kisses down your spine, each touch sending shivers through you. His hands glided along your sides, feeling every curve and dip of your body as he lowered himself. When his mouth reached the small of your back, he bit softly at the flesh of your arse, making you moan.

Alex's hands gripped your hips, positioning you so he could get a better angle. He spread you apart, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Without hesitation, he dove in, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, savouring the taste of your arousal. The sensation was electric, and you couldn't help but push back against his mouth.

He didn't stop there, though. To your surprise, his tongue moved higher, teasing your other hole. He circled it slowly, the intimate touch making you tense and then relax, your body responding to the new sensation. Alex's hands pulled your cheeks open further, giving him full access as he buried his face even more into you.

The feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and vulnerability from being so exposed that left you breathless. His tongue worked skillfully, alternating between gentle licks and firmer strokes, driving you wild. You felt every muscle in your body tighten, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he continued his relentless attention.

He circled your rim with tantalising precision, each stroke eliciting a new wave of pleasure that left you quivering. Alex pulled back for a moment, his breath hot against your sensitive skin as he murmured, “You taste so good. I can't get enough of you.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, amplifying the intensity of the moment. He resumed his ministrations, his tongue now more insistent, pushing against your tight entrance. The wet muscle teased and probed, working you open with slow, deliberate movements.

As his tongue pressed deeper, you felt the tight ring of muscle begin to yield, allowing the wet intrusion to slip inside the slightest bit. The feeling was exquisite, the stretch leaving you gasping for air. Alex groaned against you, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as he worked his tongue further inside you.

Alex's hands roamed over your hips and thighs, steadying you as his tongue continued its relentless exploration. He licked and sucked, creating a delicious friction that had you pressing back against him, seeking more. He kept pushing deeper, stretching you with careful precision. Each thrust was calculated, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. The wet, slippery sensation of his tongue inside you was overwhelming.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his desire evident in every movement. He pulled back slightly. “You're so tight.” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with lust.

“It feels so good,” you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper, “So good, Alex.”

He groaned against you, your praise fuelling him. His tongue pushed back inside you, each thrust filled with his intent of making you feel as good as possible. You moaned his name, the sound echoing in the shower as he continued his relentless assault.

He pulled back again to catch his breath, and you chased the feeling, trying to push back against him and whimpering weakly at the loss of him.

“Tell me what you want.” he murmured, his hands grabbing at your flesh.

“Just don't stop.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Alex, don't stop.”

His response was immediate, his tongue diving back in with renewed intensity. It felt like he was stretching you further with each thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight hint of discomfort that left you teetering on the edge.

His hands gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. He twisted his tongue inside you, seeking out every sensitive spot and lavishing it with attention. The intensity of his focus was almost too much to bear, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You reached back, threading your fingers through his wet hair, holding him close as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His tongue circled your rim one last time before he moved back to your clit, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to make you come.

Just after a few more licks and suckles around your clit, the intense pleasure built up to a shattering orgasm. Your entire body tensed, and you let out a sharp cry, your fingers clutching Alex’s hair tighter as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you. He groaned into you at the sharp feeling, sending an added jolt of pleasure through your already trembling body.

He held you steady, his strong hands gripping your hips as you rode out the orgasm. His tongue and lips slowed their movements, gradually easing you down from the peak of pleasure. Each gentle stroke and caress kept the sensation alive, prolonging it.

As your breathing began to steady, he shifted to leaving soft, reverent kisses on your cunt, making you shiver each time he made contact with your overly sensitive spot. Your legs felt weak, barely able to hold you up, but Alex's grip on you remained firm and reassuring.

He eventually stood up, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration as he looked at you over your shoulder. “Good?” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You smiled, still breathless from the intensity of your orgasm. “Good? That was more than just good.” you replied softly, leaning in to kiss him. The taste of yourself on his lips sent another small thrill through you.

He grinned, a look of pure pride and satisfaction spreading across his face. He pulled you close, enveloping you in a warm embrace. “Let me get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his voice a soothing relief. He reached for the showerhead, gently rinsing the remaining suds and evidence of your passion from your skin.

As you finished up in the shower, Alex wrapped you in a soft towel, his touch tender and caring. “Come on, let’s relax for a bit.” he suggested, guiding you out of the bathroom.

You followed Alex out of the bathroom, both of you wrapped in towels, his hanging loosely around his hips. He guided you to the bedroom, and you both lay down on the soft bed, not bothering to change into something else.

As you settled next to him, you couldn't help but notice the telltale tent in his towel, his cock hard and straining against the fabric. You instinctively reached out to touch him, wanting to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given you. But he gently caught your hand, stopping you.

“Later.” he murmured, his voice a soft promise. He turned around, pulling you close to him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective grip.

You could still feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, a persistent reminder. “Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with concern and desire to make him feel good too.

“Yeah,” he replied, nuzzling his face into your hair, “It'll go down. I just want to hold you for a bit.”

His voice melted any lingering tension in your body. You relaxed into his embrace, feeling his steady heartbeat against your own. “Okay.” you whispered, snuggling closer to him.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the closeness, the simple joy of being held by him. As you lay there, you felt his breathing slow, matching your own, the rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. Despite the persistent press of him against your thigh, there was no urgency, no rush. Alex's arms tightened around you slightly, a silent affirmation of his own contentment.

You had finished unpacking some of the essentials you’d need more often, leaving the rest for another day. Alex had ordered some food for the two of you, and you ate dinner together in his living room, cuddled up on the sofa. He suggested going out, given how you always stayed in back in the city, but you said it was fine staying in and just getting something for now. After the long drive, you weren’t in the mood to get ready for an outing. There would be more than enough time to go out on another day.

Once you tidied everything up a bit and got ready for bed, it didn’t take long for things to heat up between you. Lying next to each other, your lips found his, and soon you were making out, the intensity building with each passing second. You instinctively climbed into his lap, feeling the familiar warmth of his hands roaming your body. He expertly removed your top without breaking the kiss for too long.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured, your hand slipping into his pyjama pants. You quickly realised he wasn’t wearing any boxers, making it easy for you to feel his cock starting to harden as you stroked him slowly.

“Mhm.” he murmured back, his eyes closed as he sought your mouth again, not wanting to lose the contact.

“I wanna try doing that thing from earlier again.” you said, your voice shy but hopeful.

A smile spread across his lips, almost a purr, as he rubbed his nose against yours. “You want me to eat your ass again?” he chuckled, his breathing getting heavier under your touch.

“No...I wanna do it to you.” you admitted, feeling a surge of vulnerability at your bold request.

His smile faded, replaced by a look of surprise and slight tension. “I’m not sure...that’s different.” he said, his body stiffening at the idea.

“Why? It feels really good. I think you’d like it.” you insisted gently, your fingers still working to keep him aroused.

“I- I don’t know...I’ve never…” he paused, sighing deeply. “I’ve never done something like that. Wouldn’t it be, I don’t know...weird?”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. You leaned in, kissing him softly, trying to reassure him. “Why would it be weird?” you asked genuinely.

“I don’t know...it’s just...it’s different, okay?” His voice was almost a whisper, and you could feel the tension in his body. He was so rarely this shy, and it made you love him even more.

You kissed him again, slower this time, letting your lips linger on his. “Different doesn’t mean bad. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

He looked into your eyes, searching for reassurance. “I know.” he said softly. “It’s just...I’ve never thought about it before. I never imagined I’d want to try something like that.”

You smiled, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s fine, we can do other stuff, but I just…Nevermind.”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No, it's okay that you asked. Really.”

You met his gaze, feeling a sense of relief. “We can take it slow.” you assured him, your voice gentle. “There's no rush.”

He nodded, his expression a mix of apprehension and curiosity. “I trust you.” he murmured, his voice gaining a bit more strength. “It’s just...I’m not used to feeling this way.”

You could see the thoughts racing through his mind, the internal struggle between wanting to try something new and the fear of the unknown. “What are you thinking?” you asked, wanting to understand his hesitation better.

He sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “I think that maybe I do want to try it. I’ve never felt like this before, but with you...I don’t know, it feels different. Like it might be something I’d enjoy.”

You felt a surge of affection for him, appreciating his openness and willingness to explore something new. “We’ll figure it out together. I’ve never done this either, you know.” you said, your own shyness matching his.

He nodded again, his body relaxing slightly. “Yeah, okay.” he said, his voice steadier. “Let’s try it. But please, be gentle.”

You kissed him deeply, feeling the excitement coursing through you. “I will,” you assured him, your hand moving to caress his cheek, “I’ll be gentle.”

He smiled, the tension in his eyes easing as he let himself relax into your touch. “Thank you.” he whispered.

You nodded, kissing him deeply before shifting off his lap. You helped him out of his pants, revealing his erection. He was clearly aroused by the whole thing, his cock standing hard despite his initial hesitation. And you loved to see it. It reassured you that he wasn't just agreeing to please you, but was genuinely curious and open to the experience.

You guided him to lie back, his eyes never leaving yours, a mixture of trust and apprehension in his gaze. You started by kissing his thighs, your lips brushing against his skin, feeling him relax under your touch. Slowly, you worked your way closer, your kisses getting more deliberate and teasing.

“I think it would be better if you turned over to your front.” you whispered softly.

He looked at you, his apprehension clear, but after a moment he nodded. “Okay.” he said quietly. The idea of being so exposed to you made him a bit nervous, but he figured it would be more comfortable than lifting his legs and having you see his face at the same time.

He rolled onto his stomach, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. You ran your hands gently down his back, feeling him relax again under your touch. “Just tell me if it’s too much.” you murmured.

“Okay.” he replied, his voice muffled by the pillow but filled with trust.

You continued on your way down his body, your kisses trailing lower until you reached the curve of his ass. His breath hitched, and you could feel him tense up again.

“Sorry.” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I'm nervous.”

You paused, kissing his lower back reassuringly, “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath, nodding slightly, and you felt him start to relax under your touch. You continued, your kisses growing more deliberate and soothing until his tension eased away completely.

This time, he didn’t tense up. You spread his cheeks gently, kissing the sensitive skin there, and he let out a soft moan, a mix of surprise and pleasure.

Your breath was warm against his skin. You flicked your tongue out, running it along his entrance, and felt him shiver beneath you, but you kept your movements gentle.

Alex gasped, his hands gripping the sheets. You took it slow, your tongue exploring him with care. You could feel him slowly start to relax again, his breaths coming in heavy, uneven sighs.

You felt a rush of excitement and nervousness yourself. You didn't fully know what to do, but you tried to guess what he would like, thinking back to what he had done to you earlier. You traced gentle circles with your tongue, exploring his most intimate spot with tentative, affectionate licks. His reactions were your guide, his soft gasps and moans spurring you on.

You pressed your tongue a little more firmly, trying to mimic the way he had lavished attention on you. It felt incredibly intimate, and you hoped he was feeling the same mix of pleasure and connection that you had felt. Each time he relaxed and let out a soft sound of enjoyment, it reassured you that you were on the right track.

The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced before. The warmth and softness of your tongue against such a sensitive area sent shivers of pleasure through his body. It was a delicate, electrifying feeling that made him acutely aware of every nerve ending. He felt very vulnerable. He had never let anyone touch him like this, and the trust he was letting himself place in you felt exhilarating.

The combination of actual pleasure he was feeling and the emotional connection made him feel exposed yet deeply cherished. He realised that this act wasn't just about the physical sensation, it was about the intimacy and trust shared between you. The way you explored him with such care that it made his heart swell. The mixture of apprehension and pleasure swirling within him only intensified his need, leaving him yearning for more of your touch.

You continued, growing more confident with each passing moment, savouring the way his body responded to your touch.

“It feels good.” you murmured between licks, feeling him shudder at your words. “I hope I’m doing this right.”

He moaned softly, the sound encouraging you to keep going. You worked him open with your tongue, pushing your tongue in just the slightest bit, you felt him tense and then relax, the intrusion turning into a new source of pleasure for him.

“Oh god.” he gasped, his voice shaky. “That…Fuck- keep doing it.”

You smiled against his skin, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his response. You continued your movements, your tongue pushing a bit deeper, the sensation of the wet muscle inside him driving him wild. His moans grew louder, his body trembling with pleasure.

Instinctively, he bent one of his legs on the bed, his knee lifting slightly as he arched his back, his body urging him to open up to you more. The motion gave you better access, and you pressed your tongue deeper, feeling the taste and warmth of him.

As he shifted, he could feel his hard cock brushing against the soft sheets, the friction adding to the pleasure he felt. His hand moved down between his legs, wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke it in rhythm with your tongue’s movements. He let out a low groan as he matched the pace of your pace, his movements slow and precise.

His breathing became more erratic, a mix of gasps and moans escaping his lips as he focused on both of the sensations. The heat of your tongue on his ass, combined with the steady rhythm of his own hand, pushed him closer. He bit his lip, trying to contain his sounds, though the pleasure was becoming overwhelming.

“I never knew...it could f- feel…this good." he managed to say between gasps.

You kept going, your own arousal building as you pleasured him. It was a new experience for both of you, but the trust between you made it feel natural, perfect even.

He could feel his cock pulsing in his hand, each stroke aligned with the flick of your tongue against his sensitive entrance. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and he found himself moving his hips instinctively, trying to chase the feeling of your touch, wanting more.

“Don’t stop.” he pleaded, his voice needy and weak.

You had no intention of stopping, not until he was completely undone beneath you. Your tongue moved with purpose, pushing him closer and closer to the climax you knew was building inside him. The way you could feel his every reaction made it even more intense.

His fist moved faster around his cock, stroking himself with an urgent need. He moaned louder, his voice breaking with pleasure as he felt himself teetering on the edge. With one final, deep thrust of your tongue, he arched his back, his body bowing with the intensity of his release.

He cried out as he came, his hips bucking against the bed. His hand moved in a blur, stroking himself through it as his cum painted the sheets beneath him in hot, thick spurts. You didn’t stop, your tongue continuing to tease and pleasure him, prolonging his orgasm until he was utterly spent, his body trembling with the aftershocks and his moans turning into breathless gasps as he finally began to come down from the high.

You gently eased your tongue out, leaving soft kisses on his sensitive skin as he lay there, spent and trembling from the intensity of it all.

When you finally pulled back, he looked at you over his shoulder for a second, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He managed a tired but genuine smile, his eyes shining with satisfaction and a hint of shyness.

Then, with a soft laugh, he turned back and buried his face in the pillow, hugging it to himself as if trying to hide. His body curled slightly, the vulnerability of the moment making him endearingly shy.

“Fuck- That was…” he whispered, his muffled, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You smiled, crawling up to lie beside him, your own body buzzing with satisfaction. “I’m glad you liked it.” you said softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back. “I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right.”

He turned his head slightly, peeking out from the pillow. “You were amazing.” he murmured, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “I never thought I’d be into something like that, but…wow.”

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words as he reached out, intertwining his fingers with yours.

A few days later, you had settled into the rhythm of your new ‘summer home’ so to speak. The place that had once felt foreign now felt familiar.

But today was different. Today was the day you would meet Alex’s parents.

As he drove you both to their house, you couldn’t help but feel a knot of nervousness in your stomach. Maybe more than just one knot. The drive was scenic, with the town blurring past, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

Alex, however, seemed completely at ease, his arm casually draped out the open window, his other hand steady on the steering wheel. The wind tousled his hair, and every now and then, he’d glance over at you and smile. Those smiles were like a pill, easing your anxiety. You had him. Remembering you had him felt a surge of reassurance.

As you approached the door, the nervousness you’d felt earlier began to ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm. You had Alex by your side, and that was all you needed. The rest would fall into place.

“So,” Alex said, breaking the comfortable silence, “Any last minute questions before we go in there?”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Nope. I’m ready.”

He gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and a quick kiss on the top of your head before knocking on the door. The sound echoed briefly, followed by the muffled sounds of footsteps approaching. The door swung open to reveal his mother’s warm, welcoming smile.

“Alex!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug before turning to you. “And you must be his lady now. Lovely to finally meet you.” Alex’s father appeared behind her, offering a friendly wave.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you as you stepped into their home. Alex kept his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside, his presence a constant source of comfort.

As the initial introductions were made and you settled into their cosy living room, you felt the last remnants of your nerves dissipate. Alex’s parents were kind and welcoming, making you feel instantly at ease.

Everything was going well until they eventually asked how the two of you met. You didn’t know what to say, or what Alex would have wanted you to say, so you let him answer instead. You could notice how he instantly tensed up, his shoulders stiffening as he debated internally what he should say.

You could feel his hesitation as he finally spoke. “We met at the university.” he said carefully, his voice steady but betraying a hint of unease. “She was my student, and...well, she still is.”

His parents exchanged a quick glance, the briefest flicker of surprise crossing their faces, but they didn’t say anything about it. Sensing how Alex didn’t want to dwell on the topic, they quickly jumped to a different subject.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief as the tension began to dissolve, grateful for the change in topic. Alex’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He glanced at you, a small, apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You squeezed back, letting him know it was okay.

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” his mother said brightly, steering the conversation towards safer waters.

Alex took a moment, his hand tightening slightly around yours. “Well,” he began, “We’re going to be staying here, at my old place, to get away from-” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if to clear away the thought. “Anyways,” he continued, offering a small smile, “She’s from here too, so…yeah.”

His parents smiled warmly, and his father nodded. “It’s always nice to come back home.” he said. “There’s something special about this place.”

You felt Alex relax beside you, the tension easing from his shoulders. The conversation flowed more easily after that, the initial awkwardness dissipating as his parents asked about your favourite spots in town and shared stories from Alex’s childhood.

By the end of the evening, you felt a sense of accomplishment and relief. Meeting his parents had been a significant step, and despite the brief moment of tension, it had gone well, you thought. As you and Alex prepared to leave, his mother pulled you into a warm hug.

“It was so lovely to meet you, dear.” she said sincerely. “We’re glad Alex brought you here.”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling. “I’m glad too.”

As you stepped outside, Alex noticed a subtle look from his mother, a mixture of concern and unspoken words. He turned to you and suggested, “Why don’t you drive us back now? Go ahead and get the car started, and roll the windows down so it can cool off a bit.”

“Sure.” you agreed, and he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before you walked toward the car.

Once you were out of earshot, Alex turned back to his parents, his stomach knotting with anxiety. He could tell something was wrong. His mother’s warm demeanour shifted slightly, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Alex,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “She’s lovely, truly. But are you sure this is right, considering you’re her professor?”

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks. All those thoughts he had worked so hard to bury came rushing back, a torrent of doubt and self-recrimination. He had convinced himself that what he felt for you was genuine, that your relationship was built on mutual respect and affection. But now, standing there with his parents’ concerned eyes on him, the uncertainty clawed at him.

Is it wrong? he thought, his mind spiralling. Are they suggesting I’m taking advantage of you?

Am I?

His father chimed in, “We just want to make sure you’ve thought this through. There are power dynamics at play, and it can get complicated.”

Alex felt his heart race, a mix of guilt, fear, and defensiveness churning inside him. “I love her.” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. “It’s not about power or control or anything like that. It’s real.”

His mother reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We know you believe that, Alex. We just want to make sure you’re both aware of the potential repercussions.”

He nodded, feeling a wave of frustration. “I’ve thought about it. Trust me. I’ve tried to be careful, to make sure this is right for both of us but…” His voice trailed off, the whole situation pressing down on him.

He could see you in the distance, waiting by the car, oblivious to the storm of emotions raging inside him now. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from any harm or judgement. But the doubts were insidious, creeping into his mind and casting shadows over everything.

As he walked back to the car, his steps felt heavy, burdened by the weight of his parents’ words. Sliding into the passenger seat, he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you. But the questions lingered, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

“Ready?” you asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah.” he replied, his voice strained. “Let’s go.”

As you drove away, he stared out the window, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He loved you, that much he was sure of. But now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had been fooling himself all along.

Back at home, you noticed Alex's mood had shifted dramatically compared to how he was before you left. As soon as you walked through the door, he went straight to the sofa without saying a word, his usual warmth replaced by a cold, distant silence. The drive had been uncharacteristically quiet, and now he had turned the TV on to some random sports channel, his eyes fixed on the screen but not really watching it.

You sat next to him, close enough to lean into him and press soft kisses down his jawline. Slowly easing your way into his lap, you brushed his hair out of his face, hoping to draw him out of whatever was bothering him. He felt the warmth of your touch, the familiar comfort of your affection, and part of him wanted to melt into you. But those nagging thoughts were still at the forefront of his mind, casting a heavy shadow over his heart and clouding his feelings.

You felt his lack of response, but you assumed he was just being moody or tired like he sometimes was and he needed a little push. Determined to lift his spirits, you started grinding your hips onto him, giggling softly as you kissed down his neck. Your hand moved to palm him over his pants, expecting to feel him harden under your touch. But he wasn't. And usually he would have been by now.

“Come on, Mr. Turner.” you whispered playfully, trying to tease him into responding.You kissed him again, trying to coax a reaction out of him. He tried pulling his head away, a move that felt like a knife to his heart because he didn’t want to reject you, but he couldn’t reciprocate either.

The playful use of his title only made things worse for him. The reminder of it reinforced everything that made this wrong in his mind. It brought back all the doubts, the guilt, the feeling that he was crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed. He felt a wave of nausea and self-loathing wash over him, his body stiffening in response.

“Stop.” he said, his tone harsher and more hostile than you’d ever heard it. He gently pushed you off his lap, his touch firm and reluctant. The tension in his voice and the force of his words struck you deeply.

You were stunned, feeling a mixture of hurt and confusion. He propped his legs up on the small table in front of the sofa, keeping his gaze stubbornly focused on the game playing on the TV. He didn’t even look back at you, his silence and cold demeanour making you feel almost discarded in a way.

“I’m going to bed.” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice, hoping he would at least acknowledge your departure with more than just a word.

“Goodnight.” he muttered, not even turning to face you.

As you walked back to the bedroom, you glanced at him one last time. He looked distant, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his calm exterior. You closed the door behind you, feeling a knot in your stomach, the weight of his rejection heavy on your heart. He was never like this.

Alex sat there, his eyes fixed on the TV but his mind a chaotic mess. Hearing the door close behind you, he felt a wave of anger directed at himself. He hated how he had acted towards you, how he had pushed you away for no apparent reason. You didn’t know what his parents had said to him that made him feel like this. But it wasn’t their fault either. It was him. He was the one who couldn’t get past those doubts, those fears that maybe he was doing something wrong, maybe this relationship was wrong.

“Fuck.” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching in frustration. The guilt and self-loathing were suffocating, and he wished more than anything that he could just turn off his brain and let himself be happy with you. The realisation that he was hurting you, pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold you close, only made the turmoil inside him worse. He felt trapped by his own thoughts, unable to find a way to reconcile his love for you with the doubts that had been planted in his mind.

You sat in bed, staring at the ceiling, and you waited for him, the sheets cool and unfamiliar without his warmth beside you. You couldn’t fall asleep. You had grown used to having him there beside you basically every night. And your mind racing with questions and concerns. Why had he been so cold all of a sudden?

You watched the light from the TV in the other room flicker through the slight gap under the door, the shadows dancing and shifting with every change on the screen, just a reminder of the distance he set between you. You watched as it played out, casting shifting shadows in the room, hoping he would come to you.

He did come into the room at one point and, instinctively, you pretended to be asleep. Why? You didn’t fully understand, but that’s what you felt like doing. Maybe it was because you weren’t ready to face whatever it was that had caused this shift in him. He was only inside for a short couple of moments, though. You could hear him moving around, opening and fiddling through the drawers, rustling through his things. It was probably the one where he kept his sleep clothes. He stayed just long enough to grab whatever it was he needed, and then he left.

Though you couldn’t see it, Alex did pause by the door, his eyes taking in the sight of you lying there. As he stood there, watching you from the doorway, his chest tightening, he could tell you weren’t really asleep. He had watched you too many times to be fooled. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the slight tension in your body. He memorised it all. He knew you were awake. He could see the tension in the way you lay, the slight rigidity that betrayed you.

He just wanted to slip right beside you so badly, feeling undeniably drawn to you, to the point where he felt empty without you. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and feel your warmth against him. There was a gaping hole inside of him that could only be filled by you. He was utterly infatuated with everything you did. The way you walked, the way you spoke, even just the way you breathed. Every part of you drew him in, made him feel complete in a way nothing else could.

Tell me what to do with all this love…

The silent plea echoed in his mind as he watched you. He didn't know if he was asking you or himself. The confusion and self-doubt were overwhelming, but the love he felt for you was undeniable.

Finally, with a heavy heart, feeling like he wasn’t only betraying you, but himself, he turned and left the room, returning to his spot on the couch. The TV's flickering light cast shadows across his face, but all he could see was the image of you lying in bed, waiting for him. He didn't know how to make things right, how to reconcile his love for you with the doubts that plagued him. All he knew was that he needed you, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. But would that be right of him?

The next morning, you woke up to an empty house. At some point, exhaustion had overtaken you, and you did fall asleep, but it was restless, punctuated by uneasy dreams. Now, as you moved through the quiet, unfamiliar space, you felt a growing sense of displacement. The place already felt new to you, and without him there, you felt out of place, like you didn’t belong there.

You went to the kitchen to drink some water and make coffee, trying to shake off the weirdness from the night before. The silence was odd, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves coming from the open window. The loneliness of the house pressed down on you, making you feel even more out of place. As you sipped your drink, the quiet enveloped you, a stark contrast to the usual rhythm you got into for your mornings with Alex.

Then, suddenly, you heard the sound of the lock turning and the door opening, breaking the silence. You stayed in your place, feeling a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, unsure what to expect. Your heart beat faster as you waited to see what he would do.

Alex walked in, his steps soft and hesitant. He came up behind you, his presence a familiar and comforting weight as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, a part of you relaxing. He must’ve been out for quite a while, you could smell the faint scent of sweat clinging to him. Maybe he’d been for a run. Possibly. But he didn’t say anything to you. Despite everything, his touch was still a comfort.

He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken words. As he held you, he wished he could find the right ones to explain, to make you understand what he was feeling, make sense of the mess inside him. But it didn't even make sense to him. He felt the need to apologise, to reassure you, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Instead, he held you tighter, his embrace a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

Holding you in his arms, he felt a mixture of relief and anguish. The scent of your hair, the feel and warmth of your body against his, the softness of you…it was everything he needed and more. He inhaled deeply, wishing he could have your scent permanently embedded in his nostrils, a constant reminder of the love you brought him. He wanted to tell you how much he needed you, how much he loved you, but all he could manage was to hold you closer, hoping that somehow you could feel it.

For a long moment, the two of you stayed like that. Alex's mind raced with thoughts, each one more confusing than the last. He wanted to be better for you, to be the man you deserved, but the doubts gnawed at him, making him question everything.

“I…” he started, but the words failed him. Instead, he held you even tighter, his arms a little more desperate. He would give anything to make things right, to have you understand the chaos inside his mind. Yet, all he could do was hold you.

You leaned back into him, your hand reaching up to touch his arm. You sat there, feeling the weight of his head on your shoulder, the tension in his embrace. You wanted to turn around and face him, to ask him what was wrong, but you also feared the answer. Instead, you leaned into his touch, hoping that your presence could offer some relief to whatever was going on.

The following few days were a careful dance around the unspoken obvious tension between you. At least Alex was talking to you again, which felt like a step in the right direction. However, each conversation was laced with an awkwardness, a silent agreement, that you didn’t actually really agree to, of avoiding the topic that hung between you. He only gathered the courage to speak to you when he sensed that you wouldn’t push him to explain. Deep down, he knew you should have. He shouldn’t get away with avoiding it. But the thought of talking about it felt hopeless, like it would break him.

You noticed his distance, the way he seemed to calculate every move around you. His touches were rare and hesitant, limited to a quick hug or a kiss on the forehead. There was an invisible barrier between you, a rupture that hadn’t existed before that night. Each day, you hoped for a sign that things would return to normal, but the uncertainty lingered.

Alex felt trapped in his own mind, wrestling with the guilt and confusion that plagued him. Every interaction with you was followed by the fear that he was doing something wrong, that he was hurting you in ways he couldn’t quite understand. The memory of his parents' words gnawed at him as a constant reminder of the doubts he couldn’t shake off.

Despite his internal struggle, he tried to act normal, to go through the motions of your daily routines. There were moments when he would catch himself staring at you, overwhelmed by his feelings, and he’d have to look away, afraid you’d see the change in his eyes. He wanted to reach out, to hold you close and let you know how much he loved you, but the fear of his own inadequacy held him back.

You, on the other hand, were caught between giving him space and wanting to confront the issue head-on. The silence was deafening, and the lack of physical affection felt like a gaping hole in your relationship. But you held back, hoping that he would open up to you.

Even with his best efforts to maintain some semblance of normalcy, the distance between you grew more pronounced each night. He still wasn’t sleeping with you. Literally just sleeping. He wasn’t sleeping in the same bed. Though, he pretended to. He came to bed, lying beside you, but after a while, you could always feel him leave. He tried to be quiet, but the absence of his warmth in the middle of the night was impossible to ignore.

You knew he was trying to avoid confronting whatever was bothering him. He knew that you knew, no matter how many times he would say that he just woke up earlier or couldn’t sleep. It was no use. The bed felt emptier without him, and the lies, as well-intentioned as they might have been, stung each time.

He would slip out to the living room, sinking into the sofa where he could hide for a little while longer. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he could feel the weight of his own insufficiency pressing down on him. He missed you, missed the comfort and the intimacy that came with sharing a bed. Everything would twist in his stomach, making it hard to breathe. He longed to return to you, to hold you and let you know that everything would be alright. But he couldn’t shake the fear that he was failing you, that he was somehow not enough.

You, lying awake in the bedroom, could hear the faint sounds of him settling into the sofa, the creak of the springs, the rustle of the blankets. The place felt too big, too quiet without him beside you. Each night, as you lay there, you tried to think of ways to reach him, to break through the wall he had built around himself. But the fear of pushing him too hard, of driving him further away, held you back. So you waited for him. Waited. And waited.

In the early hours of the morning, he would sometimes drift back into the bedroom, hoping you were asleep so he wouldn’t have to face the disappointment in your eyes. He would lie down beside you, trying to pretend that he had been there all along. But you always knew. His movements were too careful, too deliberate.

One evening, as you sat on the couch reading a book, Alex walked in and hesitated before sitting next to you. He glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and regret. “Hey.” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between you.

“Hey.” you replied, looking up from your book and offering him a small smile.

“I’ve been thinking…” he began, then paused, struggling to find the right words. “Look, I- I know I haven’t been myself lately. And…I’m sorry for that. I just…Can I come to bed with you tonight?”

You looked at him, seeing the vulnerability etched on his face. “I didn’t ever not want you there, Alex.” you said gently. “You don’t need to ask. It’s your house.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s my house.” he said, his voice tinged with frustration and sadness. “But it’s not about that. I want to know that you want me there…that you’re okay with me being there.”

Alex’s eyes searched yours, looking for some reassurance. He looked tired, evident in the lines on his face and the tension in his posture. His usual demeanour was replaced with a tentative, more or less boyish uncertainty. His gaze flickered between your eyes and the floor as he spoke, as if he couldn’t bear to fully face the possibility of rejection.

You could see it in his eyes, the fear that he was losing you, the contradicting desperate hope that you still wanted him despite everything. His voice wavered slightly, betraying him. “I want to be with you.” he continued.

You reached out, placing your hand on his. “I want you there, Alex. I want you with me.” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I’m okay with you being there. I need you there.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he squeezed your hand gently, holding onto it like a lifeline. He nodded, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. “Thank you.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I…I’ll do better. I promise.”

He looked at you, and you could see how much he was struggling to hold it all together. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he seemed to take comfort in your words, drawing some strength from your reassurance.

For a moment, the room was filled with a silence that wasn’t oppressive this time. You leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. The connection between you, though strained, was still there.

He held you, his heart pounding with the momentary relief and still lingering anxiety. He wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that he could overcome the doubts that had been eating away at him. As he sat there with you, he felt a glimmer of hope, a fragile but precious thread that he was determined to hold onto.

Later, you both prepared for bed, like usual. You could sense Alex’s nervous energy as he emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of old loose gym shorts and a well-worn, faded t-shirt that hung slightly off his shoulders. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to gather his courage for what came next.

When he finally joined you in bed, he hesitated at the edge, as if unsure of his place. He slipped under the covers, keeping to his side, his body stiff and uncertain. You could feel the gap between you, like a physical barrier of the distance that had crept in. It wasn't what you wanted, and you knew it wasn't what he wanted either.

“Come closer.” you whispered, your voice cutting through the quiet of the room. You reached back, turning slightly, your fingers brushing against his arm, urging him to move.

He glanced at you and, after a moment, he slowly scooted over, the mattress shifting under his weight as his body inched closer to yours. As he positioned himself behind you, you felt the warmth of his presence, his warm breath on the back of your neck, a comfort you had missed dearly. Cautiously, he started to play with your hair, his fingers tracing gentle patterns in it on the pillow. The repetitive motion was soothing, a small gesture that made you feel a bit better.

You reached back, taking his arm and moving it over your waist, pulling him closer. He responded, wrapping his arm around you, his grip timid at first but growing more secure as you shuffled back into him, pressing your body against his, moulding to him.

Alex's breath hitched slightly as you entwined your legs with his, rubbing against him, the soft hairs on his legs brushing over your skin. He tightened his hold on you, his arm resting firmly over your waist, his fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns on your stomach.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your back, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the gentle pressure of his arm around your waist…it was all so achingly familiar. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a delicate sense of serenity. The doubts and fears that had plagued his mind still lingered, but they felt more distant, taking the backseat, overshadowed by the sheer feeling of you so close, the scent of your hair, the feel of your skin against his, the way you fit perfectly into the curve of his body.

He marvelled at how something so simple could feel so right and wrong at the same time. He tightened his grip around your waist even more, his fingers splaying out over your stomach, holding you as if you might slip away. The thought of being without this was unbearable.

In the morning, very early, you stirred from sleep. The faint light of sunrise seeping through the gaps in the curtains cast a soft glow over the room. You blinked a few times, your eyes adjusting to the dim light, and became aware of the comforting weight of Alex's arm draped over your waist.

Still half asleep, you felt a slight, rhythmic movement against you. It took a moment for your foggy mind to process what was happening, but then you realised. Alex was still in the same position you both had fallen asleep in, his body pressed closely against yours. He must have been dreaming, unaware of his actions, but you could feel him hard against you, his arousal unmistakable as he unconsciously rubbed himself against you.

The sensation stirred something within you, longing. You just wanted to lay back in his tenderness. You missed this closeness, this intimacy that had been so absent in the past few days. You could feel the shape of him, the firmness, and it awakened a need in you that you had pushed aside for too long already.

You stayed still, savouring the moment, the feel of him against you. His breath was warm against your neck, his grip around your waist tightening slightly as he moved. You could sense his need, even in his sleep, and it mirrored your own.

Slowly, you pressed back into him, encouraging the contact, your body responding to his in a way that felt so natural. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position to align with him better, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you as his movements became more insistent, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation, the familiar rhythm of his body against yours, the heat of his skin, the sound of his breathing.

His body continued to move against yours, a soft, involuntary groan escaping his lips as he gradually became more conscious. The sound was low and throaty, a mix of desire and the remnants of sleep, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on your waist tightened momentarily, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you pressed up against him.

You turned your head slightly, whispering his name softly. “Alex…”

He stilled instantly, the fog of sleep lifting as he became aware of what he was doing. You felt him tense, his body going rigid behind you. For a moment, there was silence, then he let out a shaky breath, another soft groan escaping his lips as he processed the situation.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the word telling of his obvious arousal and frustration. His breath was hot against your neck, and you could feel his heart pounding against your back.

“I'm sorry.” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and something else. Guilt, perhaps. “I didn't mean to…”

You turned in his arms, facing him. His eyes were wide, filled with a mix of embarrassment and regret. You reached up, cupping his face, wanting to press a gentle kiss to his lips but he turned away before you could.

Suddenly, he got up from the bed, wiping his tired eyes and adjusting his erection in his shorts so it wouldn’t be as obvious to you as he walked to the bathroom, even though he clearly knew you were aware of the situation going on down there. He went into the bathroom with a quick, almost desperate stride, unintentionally closing the door harshly behind him. The loud sound woke him even more and brought him back to reality.

Inside, he braced himself by the sink, his hands gripping the edge tightly. He pondered whether he should look at himself in the mirror or not but decided it would be better not to. The sight of his own reflection would only deepen his frustration and guilt. He turned on the shower, the sound of the rushing water filling the small room.

He couldn’t stand to look down and see his erection straining against the material of his shorts, thinking of how he had been rubbing up against you. No. With a sense of urgency and frustration, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the knob to the coldest setting. He stood under the stream of cold water, hoping it would just go down. But he couldn’t help himself. The cold water wasn’t enough to subside the heat of his arousal. The memory of your warmth, the feel of your body against his, the soft way you whispered his name, it was all too much.

His hand moved instinctively, wrapping around his cock, and he stood there as the water poured over his back. The cold did little to help him. Instead, the stark contrast of the water against his heated skin only seemed to heighten the sensations. His movements were quick and desperate as he began to stroke himself. He leaned against the cool tile wall, his other hand splayed out for support. His breath came in short heavy bursts as he pumped faster and faster.

It didn’t take long for him to come, the pressure building rapidly as he moved his hand. The pent-up desire and frustration made the release quick and intense. His breathing was ragged, each exhale mixing with the rhythmic splashing of the water. He couldn’t even find the strength to hide his sounds. You could hear him from the bedroom. The sharp intake of breath, the soft, involuntary moans, the groans that grew louder as he approached his climax.

His head fell back as he came, the water splashing his face and mixing with the sweat and tears he didn’t even realise were there. He could feel his cum spilling out and saw as it was beginning to mingle with the water before quickly getting washed down the drain, leaving him feeling both relieved and more frustrated than ever.

As he stood there, catching his breath, the reality of the situation settled in. The cold water continued to pour over him, a reminder of his attempts to distance himself from you, and the failure of those attempts. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his own conflicted emotions bearing down on him. He wished he could find a way to make sense of it all. But for now, all he could do was stand there, letting the water wash away the evidence of his need.

A few days after that morning, the tension between you and Alex remained unspoken. Neither of you mentioned what had happened, and while you tried to back off, the emotional distance was becoming unbearable. You found yourselves in the bedroom together again, sat in bed next to each other, the faint sound of music playing from the other room from when you ate dinner.

You thought that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. Maybe he would warm up to you this time. You shifted closer to Alex, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He didn't pull away. You leaned in more, pressing soft kisses to his face and, again, he didn't seem to mind. Encouraged, you kissed his lips, an unsure, testing gesture. And to your relief, he reciprocated, kissing you back. There was a tentative quality to his movements, but the softness in his touch was unmistakable and it made your heart ache.

As he kissed you, Alex felt a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth of your lips against his, the familiarity of your touch, everything he had been missing. The longing he had kept at bay surged forward, mingling with guilt and fear. He wanted to lose himself in the moment, to let go of the doubts and everything, but they clung to him, a persistent shadow. He wanted this, wanted you, but it all gnawed at him, making him question if he deserved it. Each kiss felt like a lifeline.

Your desperation grew as you felt him respond. You climbed into his lap, kissing him harder, your tongue slipping inside his mouth. You tugged at his hair, the intensity of finally tasting him again overwhelming your senses.

Alex's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of arousal and an underlying sense of unworthiness. He felt himself getting hard beneath you, a physical reaction that clashed with his emotions. He wanted to give in, to let himself be with you completely, but something held him back. Alongside the physical desire was a persistent sense of unease. He still didn’t feel like he should allow himself to get horny around you, the lingering guilt making it hard for him to fully give in to the moment. He was torn between the intense need for you and the fear that he was doing something wrong.

You could feel his body responding, feel him growing hard underneath you. As you kept making out, grinding your hips and losing yourself in the moment, you started to notice his movements faltering. The rhythm you had built together began to stutter, and it then registered to you that something was wrong. Only then you noticed the wetness on his cheeks.

You pulled back to look at him, your eyes widening and your heart sinking as you saw the tears streaming down his face. Alex quickly covered himself with his hands, bending his head down in an attempt to hide. His body shook with silent sobs, the dam of emotions he had been holding back finally breaking.

“Alex…” you whispered, your heart breaking at the sight of him. You reached out, trying to comfort him, but he pulled away slightly, still hiding his face.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out between sobs, “I just… I-”

He shook his head, his shoulders shaking with silent cries. You felt a wave of helplessness wash over you. You wanted to fix it, to make everything right, but you didn’t know how. All you could do was hold him. You gently pried his hands away from his face, revealing the raw pain in his eyes. The vulnerability you saw there broke your heart.

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away his tears. “It’s okay.” you said softly, trying to soothe him. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

He leaned into your touch, his tears still falling, but the weight on his chest felt a little lighter knowing that you were there. He looked at you, his eyes red and filled with anguish, and for the first time, you saw the full extent of it, of everything he’d been struggling with.

He just cried, and you felt helpless, unable to find the words or actions to make it better. You held him, feeling the tremors of his sobs against your body, wishing you could fix it all.

After what felt like an eternity, he moved suddenly, pulling your top over your head with a desperate urgency. Confusion washed over you as he started to push down his own sweatpants. You tried to stop him, your hands on his, asking, “What are you doing?”

His response was wordless, pushing your hands away. He tugged down your shorts, flipping you over so you were face down on the bed. He couldn’t look at you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, a mixture of comfort and confinement. It would have been everything you wanted if it weren't for the sound of his crying still coming from behind you.

You could feel him against you, still hard, his body moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sensation was intoxicating, but the context made it bittersweet. You could feel the desperation in his movements, the way his hips ground against you. He adjusted slightly, his hand guiding himself between your thighs.

When he entered you, both of you gasped at the intense, familiar feeling. His gasp was caught in his throat, his breath hitching as he struggled to breathe through the sobs. You felt a mix of pleasure and pain, it felt good, but it was confusing.

He began to move inside you, his pace slow and unsure. You could feel his tears on your back, the occasional sob breaking through his heavy breathing. It was as if he was trying to find his answers in the physical connection, a way to drown out everything in his mind. His movements were a strange combination of tenderness and desperation, each thrust a silent plea for comfort and understanding.

Your own emotions were a whirlwind. You wanted to be there for him, to make him feel better, but the intensity of the situation left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You reached back, trying to touch him, but he was lost in his own world.

“Alex.” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s fine…you- you don’t have to.”

He didn’t respond, his focus entirely on the act, as if it was the only way he could express what he was feeling. The tears continued to flow, mingling with the sweat on his face. His sobs were quieter now, but the pain was still palpable.

Despite everything, there was a certain release in the act. You could feel him pouring everything into each movement, trying to find some relief, a way to cope with the overwhelming feelings inside him.

As the moments stretched on, you felt a shift. His movements became more steady, the desperation easing slightly as he found a rhythm. His grip on your hips tightened, his body pressing more firmly against yours. The intensity was still there, but there was also a hint of something else. Perhaps acceptance. Or a fleeting sense of peace.

Finally, he came, his body tensing as he shuddered, his breath hot against your skin. His sobs mingled with the sounds of his release as you felt him spill inside you, his grip loosening as the last of the pleasure coursed through him.

He collapsed onto you. His breath was ragged, his body trembling slightly. You lay there, both of you trying to process the moment. The room was filled with the sound of your breathing, the aftermath of his emotional storm.

After a while, he rolled off you, lying beside you on the bed. He looked at you, his eyes red and swollen. But he finally looked at you, fully.

“I’m lonely,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “Horribly lonely because of this love I feel for you, and I don’t know what to do with it. It feels like I’m right back at the beginning…But when we’re together, it’s like we melt into each other. Like we’re edged with mist…making an unsubstantial territory.”

His words hung in the air, unfiltered. You moved carefully back into his lap, straddling him again. This time, there was no rush, just a gentle persistence. You began to pull his shirt off, your hands moving with a slow, deliberate intent. He wanted to stop you at first, his hands catching yours, but you whispered, “Let me move.”

He let go, his hands falling to his sides. “Just lay back.” you said, hugging him close, pressing your naked chest to his. You felt his skin stick to yours, a mingling of warmth and sweat. “Why won’t you let me love you?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly.

“I want to,” he murmured, “I want to fill you with the sweetest love…all over.”

“All over?” you repeated, the words tasting like a promise.

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours. “All over.”

“Then don’t try to fight it.” you told him, your tone gentle but firm.

You felt his resistance waver, his hands moving to cup your face, pulling you into a tender kiss. This time, there was no desperation, only a deep, abiding love. His lips moved slowly against yours, savouring it. You could feel the shift in him, the way he began to relax into your touch, the tension melting away.

a/n: i know his change in behaviour seems a bit harsh and out of nowhere but i hope you can see what i tried to convey. it ends a bit abruptly but he’ll get back to normal soon. and sorry if there are any mistakes or bits that don’t make sense but it’s a lot and i kept staring at it for way too long😭

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fluff #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour #mr turner

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