#wall cloth drying hangers to pull up and down

[certifiednatelover]

Obsessed C.STURNIOLO

smt between a hc and one shot. its left on a cliff hanger. this is just an idea i had while i was in the bath 🎀

Warnings:GIRL IDK READ IT

You let out a sharp breath, opening the closet door and slipping yourself inside before closing it quietly. You let yourself fall into the floor, back sliding against the wall as you place your hand over your mouth, silencing your cries. Your vision is blurry as your body shakes, listening to the sounds of doors opening and Chris’ footsteps walking around until the door of your room opens.

“Y’know, baby. I’ve been watching you.” “Ever since you left me.” He almost sounds sad. You say silent, steadying your breathing as your body finally stills. But you’re not the only one who’s silent. Chris’ movements stopped, his voice nowhere to be heard. You let your hand drop onto your lap, closing your eyes as your head rests against the wall. He left.

Your heart bursts out of your chest as the closet door swings open, a scream escaping your throat as he grabs you, pulling you out of the small space. He forces your back against his chest, his arm wrapping around your throat as he shoves a cloth into your mouth. You feel dizzy. Everything goes black and you hear something, something like a voice. “Found you....”

Your body falls completely slack, the cloth forcing you into a deep slumber. You hear a dark chuckle from behind you as Chris lifts you up, tossing your body over his shoulder as he takes you back to your room. He lays you down on your bed, taking off the cloth from your mouth and placing it back in his pants pocket. He runs his fingers along your face, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“So beautiful." He hums, running one of his fingers along your bottom lip. "my little angel"

----

“So you’re finally awake are you, baby~?” Chris laughs, tilting his head to the side as he looks at your bound, body. You’re tied up in his basement, your mouth taped shut and your limbs bound together. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. He smiles at you, tilting his head slightly as he gets a good look at you. “I’ve always loved your eyes, baby. They’re just so beautiful.~” He hums, walking over to you and pulling the tape off your mouth.

Chris smirks, using one of his hands to remove the gag from your mouth, tossing it onto the floor. Your throat is dry and hoarse from the cloth which was shoved in your mouth earlier. He looks at your frightened expression, his lip twitching upwards into a smile again.

“Look at you…” He says, a tinge in his voice, “So pretty and innocent. So fragile." He says, his breathing getting heavier with the last word. "Fragile, delicate, beautiful... All mine..."

A/n:I NEED STALKER!CHRIS ASAPPP

Yours truly, R.A.Y.Č.E.K☆🍓𖦹🍒𖦹☆

COMMENT IF U WANNA BE ON THE TAGLIST!!

taglist: @tillies33ssss@bazooka-cazooka@christhopersturniolo

[hubbvrd]

Helpful words | Travis Kelce

In which y/n is afraid of becoming a bad mother. She reveals these doubts to Travis, who does everything he can to prove to y/n that she will be a good mother

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After the last baby things have been stowed away in the closet, your gaze wanders once again through the finally finished baby room.

A smile forms on your lips as your hand rests on your round belly.

Over the last two months, Travis and you had done a lot of work in the nursery to create a beautiful room for your unborn daughter.

Now the room with the light pink walls and white furniture was finally finished and it couldn't be more perfect.

Even all the clothes that you had just sorted into the wardrobe were already waiting to be worn by your little Peanut.

Peanut was the nickname Travis had given your daughter as soon as he found out you were pregnant.

Since then, the nickname has been used by both of you whenever you address the little one.

You already had a name for your daughter, but you didn't want to announce it to your families until she was born, so it was still Peanut.

Your finger gently stroked the many different items of clothing that not only you and Travis had bought, but had also received as gifts at the baby shower.

It was about time to pick out the first outfit for Peanut, as it could be any day now.

Your hospital bag had been in the trunk of your car for weeks, but you hadn't yet been able to decide between all the cute outfits which one you should take to the hospital and dress your daughter in first.

"Honey?" Travis, who had just come back from running a few errands at the supermarket, called out because you were hungry for ice cream and your husband had run straight out to get it.

"Baby room!" you shouted back as you pulled out a hanger or two to look at the outfit on the hanger.

There was too much choice and each outfit seemed to get cuter so you just couldn't decide.

Why was that so damn hard? Even with your daughter's name or the design of the nursery, it hadn't even been that difficult.

A loud sigh left your lips as you closed the closet doors louder than you intended.

"Everything okay?" Travis asked directly as he stumbled into the baby's room, looking at himself with a worried and anxious look at the same time.

"I can't find a suitable hospital outfit for Peanut!" you sobbed as countless tears began to roll down your cheeks.

"Hey," Travis began as he crossed the last few feet over to you and then pulled you into his strong arms. "We'll find a suitable one."

His hand gently stroked your back as a few more tears soaked Travis' shirt slightly.

"How am I supposed to be a good mother if I can't find anything suitable for the hospital?" A loud sob left your lips.

The pregnancy hormones once again had you completely in their grip and you began to doubt yourself.

"Hey, sweetheart," Travis' voice rang out softly as he pushed you back a little so you could look at him.

"Huh?" you sniffled as you lifted your gaze and looked into your husband's eyes.

His eyes radiated calm and warmth, making you feel a little better, but despite all this, your hormones were still on a rollercoaster.

"You'd be a great mom." Travis wiped his thumb across your face to wipe away the tears that were still rolling down your cheeks. "You're going to do amazing, darling. I can already see how much love and security you give Peanut, even though she's not even here yet. You talk to her every day, sing or read to her. And just because you can't decide what to wear right now doesn't mean you'll be a bad mom."

The tears slowly began to dry as Travis' hand placed itself on your stomach and gently stroked over.

"Your mom is going to be a great mom, isn't she Peanut?" As Travis spoke, he squatted down to be more or less on the same level as your daughter.

It took a few seconds for your daughter to kick your belly like she was saying yes.

"See, even Peanut agrees with me." Travis looked up at you and gave you a soft smile.

And this situation once again caused new tears to roll down her cheeks. But not out of desperation, but out of love.

Those words from Travis and the light kick from your daughter caused you to become quite emotional now and once again you were clearly shown how much you loved your husband and your unborn daughter.

"Thank you," You whispered, while Travis wrapped his arms around you again and buried his face in your hair.

"The truth," he replied gently as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you stood there for a few minutes just enjoying each other's closeness and affection.

"And now let's pick out an outfit for Peanut together. With all your super cute stuff, it's going to be hard even for me to pick just one." 

Travis took your hand while he opened your daughter's closet with his other hand and looked through all the clothes.

And indeed, your husband felt the same way as you did. He couldn't decide either, so you both picked out your top two favorites and in the end, after a long back and forth, you finally decided on an outfit that your little Peanut would wear first.

And it shouldn't be too much longer before that day finally comes.

[finelinevogue]

happy holidays

summary- an insight to the most perfect christmas

warnings: you already know it’s just fluff

word count: +1k

It had been a busy Wednesday, teaching five lessons today. You thought going into secondary school teaching would be a lot easier than primary, but maybe you were wrong. English had been your favourite subject growing up, so being able to teach it back to younger generations made your heart completely happy.

Even though the day had been long, you knew that comfort was waiting for you when you got home.

Harry had pulled all the boxes down from the attic, as you had asked him to last night, now sat in the hallway and waiting to be unboxed.

“Babe, I'm home!” You called out, taking off your red scarf and coat to carefully place on the hangers beside the door frame. It had been freezing outside, so coming inside to a toasty warm house made you feel very cosy. You didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that your nose and cheeks were now tinted red.

Harry came out from the kitchen door, a tea towel strung over his shoulder, with a smile on his face as soon as he saw you. He made his way over to you, careful of the mindfield of cardboard boxes. He reached his hand out to brush some hair from your face all whilst leaning in to give you a welcome-home kiss. You cherished moments like these, where he was so soft and simple. He didn’t force the kiss to be anything more than a simple ‘i’m-glad-to-see-you’ and you just loved him even more for that. He was the perfect person to come home to at the end of a busy day.

“Good day?” He asked, pulling back but keeping you close.

“Busy, but good.” You smiled, following him through into the kitchen after he’d nodded his head at you. “Joe King actually did his homework for once and Dinah Mite finally remembered that i’m a ‘Miss’ not a ‘Mrs’.”

“You say that as if you’re offended that Dinah called you a ‘Mrs’?” Harry teased, knowing you meant nothing horrible by it.

“They can call me ‘Mrs’ when it’s official.” You raised your eyebrows at him. Leaning on the kitchen side you watched him stir the bolognese he was cooking some more.

After long days at school, Harry had decided to pick up his weight more around the house and so he started to cook dinner. You’d known each other for 4 years now and when you’d first met Harry hadn’t even known how to cook toast without burning it, so to see him now perfectly cooking a bolognese you were proud - and slightly impressed.

Due to Harry not having your standard 9-5 job, thanks to being a mega-rockstar, he was often home a lot and so he liked to help as much as he could. Your chores now only included washing the dishes and drying them each day, and Harry did the clothes washing, hoovering, dusting and cooking. He was happy to do anything to ease your life a little and make you as happy as he could. Seeing Harry in an apron and cooking cupcakes, when he’s written songs like Watermelon Sugar, did make you laugh though.

“Was that a challenge, Miss L/N?” He asked slyly, bending down to check on the garlic bread in the oven. The kitchen smelt completely divine.

“Pull out a ring, ask me and let’s see.”

“Nice try.” Harry rolled his eyes, tutting you because you thought he’d ever ask you to marry him like this. “Now, come taste this for me.”

You pushed yourself off the side and waltzed over to him and the stove.

You were very lucky. You had gotten to design your house yourself from the foundations to what colour paint you want on the walls. Everything had been yours and Harry’s choice, along with some professional guidance too of course. Your favourite part was your kitchen however, because you’d taken a lot of inspiration from Dakota Johnson and designed the most perfect vintage green, cottage-core inspired, kitchen. The best part was your sage-green Aga, which Harry was currently cooking the bolognese on.

Harry brought the spoon up to your lips, blowing it cooler for you first. He kept a hand under the spoon in case any dripped, whilst directing the spoon into your mouth and letting the sauce embrace itself onto your tastebuds.

“Mmm.” You hummed in delight, letting the warm and tomatoey sauce soak its way all over your mouth. “Perfect.”

“Yeah? You must be a bolognese sauce too then, ‘cause you’re perfect.” Harry cheesily said, laughing to himself as he got back to stirring and turning off the heat.

“That was awful.” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss to his cheek.

Dinner was lovely. You couldn’t have faulted anything about the meal, all because Harry was becoming a five-star Michelin chef. Both of you caught up with each other over dinner, whilst also discussing plans for Christmas. You take it in turns to spend each year with your families, because you’re both so close to each other's family that wherever you are it always feels like home. This year you were spending Christmas in Holmes Chapel, since last year you’d spent it at your family’s.

Currently Michael Buble’s Christmas album was playing on the record player as you opened the boxes, filled with Christmas decorations, that Harry had brought downstairs earlier today. Every year, you both argue when you should put your Christmas decorations up. Harry always argued for the first weekend in December, but you like to decorate December 1st and if it wasn’t obvious already - you’d won. The boxes were ridiculously full with crap that you end up buying every year from various Christmas markets. This year you were going for a red and tartan theme, with hints of silver, since last year you had gold decorations.

Since you were a little girl, Christmas decorating has been your favourite part of Christmas because it really symbolises the start of the festive season. Harry never really got involved too much when he was a child, but ever since he’s been with you he’d decided that it’s his favourite part of Christmas too. He doesn’t really care for the tinsel wrapped around the bannister on the stairs, the Christmas card holder hanging over various doors or even the wreath hung upon the front door. What he really cares for is seeing that shining smile of yours as you watch Christmas come to life in your home.

“Babe?” You called from the living room, knowing Harry was out in the hallway wrapping fairy lights into the tinsel on the stairs.

“Yeah, love?”

“Need your help for the star.” You responded, not being tall enough to actually reach the top of your Christmas tree. It smelt so nostalgic and amazing, having argued with Harry for a real Christmas tree because nothing beats the fresh pine smell of a real tree. Screw the artificial ones.

Harry came waltzing into the room after a minute, giving a little shimmy as a jazz band solo came from Buble’s ‘White Christmas’. You laughed as he came over to you, thinking to yourself that this whole evening could be no more perfect. You handed him the star, but suddenly the song stopped and changed and on came Buble’s rendition of ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ - which, unpopular opinion, you have to admit you preferred over Mariah Carey’s.

He grabbed the nearest object to him, which happened to be a snow globe, before singing into it along with Buble’s. He harmonised, like the beautiful musician he is, before singing in duet.

“‘Cause baby all I want for Christmas is you.” He pointed to you and you shook your head in laughter, watching him be the Harry you absolutely adored.

He made some dramatic gestures and slid closer over to you, making some god awful shapes as he tried to dance. You kept on watching him as he kept singing, enjoying the minute concert he was putting on for you.

“Make my wish come true. You know that all I want, for Christmas, is you.” He got closer to you, and took your hand to twirl you around in a circle. He ended up pulling you closer and twirling you into his chest. You smiled as you let him finish his last line, before cupping his cheek and leaning up to kiss him softly. You made sure he felt your love for him as you kissed him, without any mistletoe - just because you could.

“I love you.” You whispered as you pulled away from his lips, giving him a quick second peck before breaking apart from him.

“Might’ve been my best performance yet, actually.” He turned his lips down in pride of himself and put the snow globe safely back down.

“I think that rendition of ‘Santa Baby’ you did in that really skimpy–”

“Okay, okay. Shut up. Don’t need to relive that moment anymore than I already do in my nightmares.” He shut you up, both of you now remembering Harry dressed in a short little Santa dress as he was dared to whilst he sang Santa Baby. It was the funniest Christmas karaoke that you’d seen, having been dared by your brother when you spent Christmas at your family’s last year.

“Think it lives in my nightmares too.” You laughed, picking up the star for the tree.

“Oh alright, yeah, love you too.” He said sarcastically.

“You wanna put the star on?” You offered an apology, holding the star towards him, even though it was the part of the decorations that finished everything off.

“No matter the amount of teasing from you will make me take away your favourite part of Christmas from you.” He said, turning you around and lifting you up from the waist so you gained an extra few feet. You easily reached to put the star on top of the tree and it looked so perfect sitting up there. You smiled and nodded in approvement.

Next thing you knew Harry was letting you down, but only a little so he could swing you around and hold you up. You connected your legs around his waist, locking your arms around his neck as he held on tightly around your waist. He leaned in to give you a kiss on your nose, but you tilted your head up so he reached your lips instead. He chuckled into the kiss, not leaning back as you pressed yourself into him. He tasted like peppermint, which let you know he’d been snacking on the sweets you’d left in a bowl on the kitchen table. You hummed in delight as you breathed him in completely, before leaning back to look at your beautiful other half.

“Y/N?” He speaks quietly, as if there were other people around to hear.

“Yeah?” You rested your forehead on his, enjoying the feeling of being this close to him.

“Thank you for being my forever Christmas.”

[randomfoggytiger]

I have an idea!! We all love it when Scully borrows(/steals) Mulder’s clothes in fic, but what about Mulder borrowing(/stealing) Scully’s clothes?

Mulder had been a good boy, restlessly applying himself to complete recovery after waking with the scars of smoked-out beetles in his throat. A little over ten days in the hospital-- a record, barring their previous quarantines-- a little under one for the flight home, a little over two to sleep off the return trip, and (he'd assumed) a few more days, a few more meds, a few more teasing touches and everything would be business as usual.

Today had not been a good day.

He'd woken coughing up an ecosystem, lungs burning and head throbbing with each heaving inhalation. Scully had insisted he stay in bed, repositioning him away from the puddle of sweat pooling under his back and mopping away the gunk he spat into his hand. She'd pulled them both back from the vivid recollection of that hand spattered with blood two weeks ago: "Excess mucous production, Mulder-- the membranes in your respiratory tract are irritated. You'll be fine." And she'd willed it so, handing him the full dosage they'd tapered off yesterday and only leaving because he'd insisted she head in to work.

Three hours in, Mulder found his second wind through sheer desperation.

Scooting and sliding his way to the bathroom, the stink of sweat and acidic saliva oozed from every pore of his skin, collected in every fiber of his clothing. His clothes hit the tile with a half-damp plop; and he gripped the sink with one hand while splashing messy water rivulets down his face and back with the other. Too exhausted to pat himself dry, Mulder monkey-branched from the wall to the doorknob, bracing himself for the incoming change in temperature. His cough predictably hacked in rebellion-- not as violently as it had for reveille, but enough to halt his forward progress in fits and stops.

He refused to go back to the swamp bed, shivering towards the closet for something quick to throw on. Clutching the hangers feebly for balance, Mulder darted from shirt to shirt, wondering if he'd rather freeze than attempt to stretch one over his head.

Hello. That was new.

There was a giant men's coat tucked away in the far-left corner where he knew that Scully knew he knew coats no longer belonged. He scowled-- shivering, sweating, trembling body forgotten-- and made a grab for it, twisting the cuffs around to look for a stitched identification or insignia. There were none.

On closer inspection, it wasn't a giant men's coat, after all: it was a giant, fluffy men's robe.

Hungrily pulling it off the rack, Mulder wrapped himself up in a slice of heaven and resumed his shuffle to the couch. It defied all known laws of nature, leeching the sickness from his body, the aches from his muscles, the pounding from his head. He decided not to question it.

Mulder propped up against his favored arm rest, wiggling his toes until sleep began to fuzzily descend. Before the tide pulled him completely away, Scully's key clicked and turned the lock. Earlier than her usual lunch hour.

"Mulder...?" floated softly into the room; and, at peace, he dreamed.

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic

[ericsprincess]

take your time and turn off the lights

nc-17, Choi Chanhee/Reader, drunk sex, sexual exploration, fingering

~~~

Your best friend wants some education. 

~~~

“Can you please get a move on finally? I’m gonna pee myself,” whines Chanhee, leaning on the wall outside of your apartment, while you’re bent over in front of the door. You’re squeezing the key between your fingers, if only the keyhole stopped dodging. Chanhee is being of no help, well, except the fact that he’s holding your bag and heels in one hand, his bedazzled Hello Kitty vape in the other and has a dumb remark on everything. 

You’re both drunk, coming home from your monthly besties night out. It is a years long tradition for you and your best friend - on the first Friday of every month, you both doll up at your place, while sharing a bottle of wine, trying out outfits and putting on makeup. Then you hit up a club, both with no money on you - the objective is to just dance, have fun and let men pay for your drinks. But neither one of you intends to pick up a man to go home with - you can do that any other time, but this is an evening just for the two of you. So you stick together and leave the club together when you’re tired, crashing at either of your places for a sleepover. 

Today, you picked a club that’s closer to your place, that’s why you’re currently fighting with the lock on your apartment door. You had a really good night, you danced your shoes off, both with Chanhee and various hot men that caught your attention. Chanhee did the same, and judging by how drunk you both are, you both got plenty of attention (and free drinks) tonight. Maybe even a bit too much - at some point, Chanhee suddenly stopped dancing and dragged you off the dance floor to one of the sofas scattered around it and pulled you to chill down on it. As you were catching your breath from the dancing, you looked up at Chanhee with a question in your eyes. 

“There was a guy, I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he explained. Ohhh. Makes sense. You haven’t noticed anyone, so you were glad Chanhee was looking out for you. 

“Wanna make out to make him jealous?” asked Chanhee and you nodded, giggling, since you are always up for mischief like that. Chanhee smiled at you, you closed your eyes and seconds later you were tasting sweet cocktails on his tongue. You spent a lot of time just making out, enjoying the alcohol buzz, loud music and the warmth of another body. 

Now you’ve finally managed to open the door to your apartment, almost falling over when the lock unexpectedly clicked. You throw your jacket on the hanger, while Chanhee yells “Dibs on the bathroom!” and immediately runs there. You snort and go to the kitchen to make both of you a cup of tea to sober up a bit. 

You bring the cups to your room, while you hear the shower running. Chanhee has been to your place a million times, so he’s here like at home and doesnt need to be treated as a guest. You start taking off your clothes, preparing for your own shower, while sipping on the tea. You take off your makeup and just at the time you hear the shower being turned off. 

“I left you some hot water, because I’m that nice,” Chanhee walks out of your bathroom in your fluffiest bathrobe (that’s actually yours, not for guests), drying his hair with a towel. “Also I used your shampoo and it’s really good, so if you are missing the bottle tomorrow, don’t ask me about it.”

He looks up at you and stops in his tracks. “Oh, you’re already undressed.” He looks you up and down. “Nice lingerie. Did you plan to pull? You should have told me,” he asks, but his tone is strange.

“No, I just felt like dressing up,” you reply and hand him his cup. “Here is your tea.”  

“Thank you. Do you want to watch something or are we just going to sleep?” he asks.

You take a second to consider the options. You are ok with watching something, but you’re so tired from dancing and alcohol, you will probably drop 5 minutes into the movie. It’s been a long evening. 

“Up to you. But I am probably falling asleep very soon,” you laugh. 

You leave him in your room and go take a shower. The hot water falling over you is soothing and it makes you want to sleep even more. You quickly wash and dry yourself so you can run to bed. 

When you enter your room, Chanhee is already laying in your bed under the covers, scrolling on his phone. You drop your towel, looking for some panties and pyjamas. You’re never shy around your best friend and it’s not the first time you’re naked around him, so you don’t pay it any attention. He’s focused on his phone anyways. 

Finally, you find some clothes and get into the bed, poking Chanhee to budge so you can fit next to him, warm and cozy under the covers. You lie down and you feel so comfortable - alcohol buzz pleasantly ebbing off, you’re freshly showered and finally in your bed, even next to another warm body, which always makes you sleep better. 

Chanhee puts down his phone on the nightstand, turns to your side, huddles close and hugs you from behind. A bit unusual since he’s not big on cuddling, but you’re not complaining - you would not refuse any additional comfort now. 

“Hmmm..you still drunk?” you mumble into his arm. 

“Not as much..you?” he asks. 

“Less, too… But I’m really sleepy,” you reply, accompanied by a yawn. You fidget a bit to burrow deeper into his arms.

“We had a nice evening, didn’t we?” Chanhee asks, silently. His free hand, the one you’re not lying on with your head, is laid on your waist, petting you gently. He moves it to lightly rub over your belly. 

“Hmm..yeah,” you’re not even thinking much over the reply. You really did, as always. It’s not even a question. 

“You looked really pretty today,” he continues. “Actually, you always look really pretty. It made me realize a lot of things, lately..”

“Like what?” you mumble, already half-asleep. 

Chanhee hesitates. He slowly moves his hand up under your pyjamas, over your naked breasts.

That wakes you up. 

“Chanhee?” you ask, confused. You can feel his quickening breath. 

“Can I?” he asks, without any explanation. And maybe that’s okay - maybe you don’t need one. Maybe the explanation would not change your answer anyways. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, almost shivering in anticipation. You’re not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, but it’s your best friend and you know you can trust him with anything. If he wants to explore your body, he’s welcome to do so. 

Chanhee slowly rubs his hand over your tits, feeling up your hardening nipples with his fingers. He squeezes one of your breasts, then the other and goes back to playing with your nipples, until they are fully hard. He pinches one and it makes you wiggle, since you’re too sensitive, and you put a hand over his to let him know. He understands immediately and lets it go, circling his finger around it in apology. 

Letting your breasts go, Chanhee moves his hand higher, running the tips of his fingers along your collarbones. He leans his head a bit forwards and kisses your neck. You sigh in content. 

You’re starting to get aroused from the touching, feelings emphasized by the alcohol. Everything feels hot, Chanhee’s body behind you, his hand on your body, even his breath on your neck and you don’t have enough self-control to fight it. 

And it seems you’re not alone in this. You shift a little and that makes you bump into his hard cock with your ass so you push against it a bit and he gets the hint and moves closer. He’s not humping you, but you still like feeling his hard cock press against you insistently.

And you also really like to know that he likes it, that just touching your body makes him this hard.

Chanhee, however, ignores his erection and focuses on kissing and sucking hickeys onto your neck, while moving his hand under your pyjamas, touching, groping where he can reach and you’re getting so wet from it, you’re slowly losing your mind. You’re breathing heavily and you’re holding onto his other hand that’s embracing you. 

It’s almost torture, but you’re not going to ask him for anything. You want him to go at his own pace and if that means he might not want to do more than what he is doing right now, then you’re okay with that. Even though your panties are completely soaked. 

Thankfully, you’re in luck tonight. Chanhee’s hand moves downwards, brushing past your belly. His fingers stop at the waistband of your pyjama pants. 

“Can I?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe out impatiently. “Please, touch me..”

“But,” he hesitates. “Y/N… I-I’ve never… I don’t know if it will be any good...”

“It doesn’t matter,” you put your hand over his and push it under your pants and panties. “I’ll help you, if you need it.” you reassure him. 

Just the warmth and touch of his hand over your pussy is heavenly. He slowly feels around, pushing two fingers between the lips and finding out how wet you are. Maybe you are imagining it, but you would swear his breath hitches. 

He slowly rubs up and down, spreading your slick all over your pussy, making his fingers glide over your skin easily. He quickly finds your clit and gently rubs it, and it feels so good you whine at him to not stop. You’re even moving your hips a little to make it easier for him. 

He’s being gentle but firm, rubbing your clit in steady tempo, nothing quick and brutish like other men use to. Your orgasm is slowly building up and you know if he continues, you could come like this. 

Inexperienced? Maybe, but definitely attentive. 

But before you can actually get too close to coming, Chanhee has other plans. He shifts his hand further, touching around your hole, fingers right at the opening. 

“Please,” he breathes out into your neck, where his face is still firmly put, no doubt all red and aroused himself. 

You just hum in agreement, too out of it to speak, and he pushes two fingers in and whines. You realize that now his hips are really moving against yours, rubbing his cock on your ass as he’s trying to get at least some relief. 

He pulls them out and pushes back in and repeats it few more times, trying to fuck you like that, but the angle is not great in this position and he seems to realize that too. He can’t go too deep nor too fast like that. He lets the idea go and pulls them out definitely to get back to rubbing your clit and you’re almost thanking him. 

And now that he’s getting the hang of things, you can tell he’s not playing anymore. He’s rubbing your clit with perfect pressure and good tempo, clearly with the sole aim to get you off. 

You’re moving with him, barely realizing it, just giving into the feeling. You’re starting to whimper and moan as you’re getting closer and he quickens the tempo, not wavering even though his hand must be starting to hurt at this point. 

When you finally come it hits you like a truck, you’re almost spasming and he has to hold you firmly against himself as he keeps rubbing you. He slows down only when he sees your orgasm is finally ending, not wanting to overstimulate you. 

You blink, suddenly getting hit by reality. You would have never expected tonight ending this way, getting fingered and gotten off by your best friend, you think while catching your breath. 

But it’s not like you’re complaining, not in the least.

You put your hand behind yourself, on his hard cock leaking through the pyjamas, but he stops you. 

“Not now,” he says. 

“Tomorrow, if you still want to. When we’re sober.”

“Okay,” you nod and turn back so he can spoon you again. Now it’s a bit awkward, since neither knows what to say and you can feel his boner pressing against your ass. But at least, your tiredness is finally overcoming you, especially after having an orgasm. You yawn again. 

 “Let’s go to sleep?” 

“Okay…Good night Y/N,” he burrows his nose into your hair and holds you tight.

“Good night, Chanhee,” you close your eyes.

A minute passes in silence. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

And then you sleep. 

[somethinginthewayiam]

Part of the business

(gif off pinterest)

a/n: from here on out we're pretty much following the plot of season 6 with creative liberties.

pairing: Chibs Telford x plus-size reader

words: 2362

warnings: there is 18+ content throughout (minors DNI), mentions of alcohol, a bit smutty

Summary: Chibs waits in front of your apartment to talk business. You use the chance to also ask him where you two stand. He has his own way of answering you...

link to my masterlist and previous parts

It was a weird couple of weeks. The work at CaraCara seemed to fizzle down. There were only a few scenes shot per week by now. Lyla had started working for Diosa, an escort service. She wasn’t one of the girls but helped the owner, called Nero, managing the ladies and the house.

You missed seeing her at work every day but you spent some of your free time with her and you still saw each other at your yoga classes.

The other weird thing was that Bobby hadn’t come over to the warehouse in a while. You were managing the books on your own by now, but he had taught you a lot over the past couple of months. Managing the books for a porn production that was owned by the M.C. wasn’t always done by the book, but you were good at it and the voice of concern you had in the beginning got lower and lower by the day until it was just business as usual.

One day when you came home from work early, you were surprised to find Chibs waiting in front of your apartment door. You only stopped for a second when you stepped out of the elevator, a little thrown off by the sight and then continued walking towards him.

Chibs was leaning against the wall next to your door and looked up when he heard the sounds of your steps coming closer.

“Wow, since when has a Son time to wait around for a girl?”, you asked him when you came closer to your apartment door. “Hey, lass”, he greeted you with a kiss when you stood in front of him. When you pulled back, your eyes dropped down to the patch on his chest that looked rather new.

V. President

“I’m here for business”, he told you. “Can we go inside?”, he asked and nodded towards your door.

“You couldn’t afford my rates, honey”, you joked and wiggled your eyebrows at him, but unlocked your door. He followed you inside and closed it again. You put your purse on the little counter in your entrance and kicked your shoes off. You walked into your living room and he entered right after you.

Since you hadn’t expected any company, your laundry was drying on a hanger in the middle of the living room.

“Do you want anything to drink? A Beer?”, you asked him and continued on into the kitchen area that was only separated by a line of counters. “Aye, thanks”, he nodded and stood now in the middle of the room.

When you turned around with two bottles of beer in your hands, you found him studying the rack of clothes.

“I don’t know these, are they new?”, he asked and grabbed a pair of Bordeaux-red panties, holding them up in the air.

“You haven’t seen all my underwear. Also, I don’t have ‘em on for too long anyway when you’re around”, you told him, handed him his bottle and snatched the panties from his other hand to put it back on the rack. You shooed him over to your couch as he kept looking at the bras and panties hanging out to dry and wouldn’t focus.

You both sat down on your couch. Chibs pulled his phone out of his back pocket and put it on your couch table along with his riding gloves. You pulled your legs under and rested your arm on the backrest of the couch. You took a sip from your beer and put it on the couch table.

“Okay, why are you here?”, you asked him. “I guess you know by now that the club is in business with Diosa”, he said, knowing how close you and Lyla were and assuming that she must have told you why she left the production company. Even after Opie she was still deeply connected to the club and did what Jax needed her to do.

Instead of answering him, you just nodded your head. “Jax wants you to work there, too”, Chibs continued. At his words, your eyes got big. “But it’s an escort service. You guys are not seriously expecting me to like work-work there…”, you said and looked at him with squinted eyes while you felt a little knot forming in your stomach.

“We’re not pimping you out, if that’s what ya mean”, Chibs clarified but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Instead of a comment, you rolled your eyes at him, but you were seriously relieved.

“Jax wants you to take care of their books, too. At least for the club’s investment part of it”, he explained. “Too? Are you not shutting down CaraCara?”, you asked surprised

“Why should we?”, he asked a bit irritated. “Because there are less and less shoots, we have little to no contracts with performers left. Most of the time I’m just sitting around, rubbing one out”, you told him.

His eyebrows jumped up, almost touching his hairline. “Figure of speech, calm down”, you reprimanded him and his dirty thoughts.

“We’re not planning on shutting it down, we definitely want to keep it alive and running. And you’re a big part of it. The club trusts you, that’s why we need you to take care of our investment at Diosa”, he said and you sat up a little bit in your seat. To hear that the club trusted you and needed you to take care of their investment, made you very proud.

“But why do you need me for the books? Wouldn’t it be better if Bobby takes care of the new business?”, you asked. You were proud, not stupid. To have a newbie who wasn’t even a member of the club taking care of a new business seemed rather off for the M.C.

Chibs took a long sip of his beer before he answered you. “Bobby’s taking a little break from the club”, he simply said. “Bobby left the M.C.?”, you asked surprised and leaned forward, your eyes big. “He’s still a Son, but he’s not holding any position within the club right now”, he explained further. It was already more than you thought you would get from him. “Did something happen?”, you asked further and pushed your luck.

Chibs cocked his head to the side and threw you a look that said, “You know I can’t tell you”.

“Is that why you’re wearing the VP patch?”, you asked straight forward. Chibs sighed and you could see in his face that there’s a whole story behind that sigh. A story you will never hear.

You leaned over and took another sip of your beer. You still had some questions on your mind you were a bit afraid of asking but needed answers to.

“You becoming V.P., does that change anything?”, you asked him and played with the label of the bottle, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?”, he replied and you could hear in his voice that he didn’t know what you were getting at.

“Between us”, you mumbled, almost inaudible. It took you a few moments before you dared to look up as he wasn’t saying anything.

You were having sex for a few months now and your inner voice to define shit got louder and louder. He seemed a little distant all of a sudden and your heart sank into your stomach. The look in his eyes was gone as quickly as it had come, though.

Chibs got up from his spot and came over, sitting down next to you. He took the bottle of beer from your hands and put it on the couch table. Then, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. He placed one arm across your legs and kept the other arm around your waist. He leaned forward a little and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“We’re having fun, aye?”, he asked as he leaned back to talk to you, moving his head a little to get you to look into his eyes. A smirk pulling at the corners of his lips when you finally looked up and you couldn’t hold back a smile either at the goofy look on his face.

“We’re having a lot of fun”, you affirmed and put your arms around his neck.

“So…”, he said, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.

“So…we keep doing that”, you finally said with a shrug of your shoulders. You tried your best to make it sound like a statement, a decision that was yours, but it was a question more than anything else. You couldn’t event hold the eye-contact.

“And you’d be okay with that?”, he asked after a few moments, noticing your hesitance. His fingers found your chin and lifted your head up again so you would look at him, his eyes seemingly looking behind yours and straight into your soul.

You weren’t, really, but what was the alternative? Would you like it to be more? Sure. But risking to have nothing with him? No way. You would take whatever he was willing to give you for as long as your heart could take it.

“Yeah”, you simply said but still couldn’t hold the eye-contact for too long. You were afraid he would see the disappointment in your eyes.

“Really?”, Chibs followed up. “Yes”, you confirmed with a firmer voice and even managed a smile. To reassure him further, you leaned in for a kiss.

“Is it weird that you becoming V.P. kinda turns me on?”, you asked when you pulled back, your hand on the nape of his neck, playing with the soft hair at the back of his head. His hand on your thigh squeezed you slightly as a response.

He leaned forward, looking for contact again. His lips brushed against yours, your tongue darting out to lick his lips.

The kiss quickly got more intense and your fingers ran through his hair. Chibs’ hands found his way under your shirt and started to touch every part of your skin he could reach.

The next moment, one of his arms went under your legs while the other cradled your back and suddenly you were beneath him. You spread your legs to have Chibs move between them.

Your hips started bucking up, looking for contact while your fingers found his black beads-necklace, pulling him close to you.

Chibs’ hands pushed your shirt up your stomach and over your breasts, exposing your bra. He buried his face between your tits like he always loved to do. And you loved it because it turned him on so much.

“Filip”, you whined, moving your hands inside his kutte, running your fingers along the fabric of his shirt, starting to unbutton it. “Darlin’”, he growled at your ear and nibbled and sucked at the skin of your neck.

Your hands gave up on his buttons and moved down to the zipper of his jeans, opening his pants and reaching inside. You found his hardening cock, wrapped your fingers around it and started stroking him.

He moved his hips towards you, pushing into your hand. “Fuck, luv”, he growled again and grabbed one of your breasts with his hand that was not supporting himself on the couch next to your body.

“Fuck me, V.P.”, you moaned and bit down on your bottom lip as you pulled him out of his pants. A dirty smirk appeared on his face but only lasted for a second before it dropped again as your hand moved faster on him, adding pressure and changing the angle of your wrist slightly with every move.

Chibs needed both hands to support his body on top of yours while you jerked him off. By the speed of his breathing, you knew that he was getting close. “Come for me, baby”, you urged him on, moaning with him. “Ugh, fuck”, he breathed out and his whole body started to tense up.

And then his phone rang and the loud noise cut through the room.

“Fuck!”, Chibs yelled out in frustration. Your hand had stilled at the interrupting sound. You both looked over at his phone on the couch table. Then you looked at each other again. “Sorry”, he mumbled and you pulled your hand from his pants.

He pushed himself up into a kneeling position and reached for the phone.

“Yeah?”, he blurted into the phone, seemingly angry and tucked himself back into his pants which wasn’t that easy with a hard-on. He got up and started pacing as he talked.

You also sat up and pulled your shirt back down. You grabbed your bottle of beer and took a sip while Chibs was on the phone.

“I have to go, club business”, he announced as soon as he hung up. A word of protest was on your tongue but you swallowed it, there was no chance it would work anyway.

“Alright”, you said as you got up as well. You walked over to him, put your arms around his neck and got on your tiptoes to kiss him. “You take care of your business and I take care of my business”, you said and wiggled your eyebrows at him. He looked at you a bit confused.

“You’re leaving me high and, well, not-so-dry”, you said and looked down at your crotch and back at his face. He couldn’t hold back the smile at your comment but also looked disappointed that he wouldn’t be there to finish what you had started.

You pulled him down by his necklace again and kissed him. “Okay, ride on cowboy”, you said just a moment later, let go of him and slapped his ass. He bent down to grab his riding gloves off the couch table and kissed you again before he walked over to the door.

You followed him and held the door open when he walked through. “Hey Chibs”, you said and he turned around. You pulled your shirt up and exposed your bra to him once more. “One for the ride”, you said with a cheeky smile, stuck your tongue out at him and shut the door in his face with a giggle.

next part Better offer

[bambikisss]

Finding Australia

PART TWO TO : BANK TELLER

-> After coming back into Chan's life after the heist, he tries to keep you close and out of trouble.

Story warnings: mentions of Stockholm syndrome, Alcohol, depression

Mature warnings: choking, biting, spitting, overstimulation, tying up.

You can't just keep going in and out, baby. You're mine. I refuse to let you go.

You never thought after the heist that you would pursue a normal life.

You thought you'd either be caught and spend the rest of your life in prison or succeed and live in hiding for the rest of your life somewhere. You had no plans on staying in Korea and dating your hostage.

But yet, here you were sitting in his luxury apartment drinking wine while he looked through his work folders.

Life is funny that way, in a way.

As you leaned over to run your hand through his hair, he sighed, leaning back to meet your hand as he closed his eyes. Work had been more demanding as of late and he was obviously tired. He could feel himself falling asleep just from you running your hands through his hair, pulling away to face you. He was shocked that you were in front of him right now after thinking he'd never see you after the hostage situation. He leaned over to kiss your hand, smiling as you took a sip of your wine, the gold-rimmed glass touching your lips. "I think someone is sleepy," you mused, Chan, chuckling as he stood up, holding his hand out to you to lead you back to his plush bed, laying you both down.

He kissed your forehead, taking the wine glass from you to place on the nightstand as you laid your head on his chest, the rain outside hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows, the moon streaming in. It looked like a scene in a movie or someone's life they wanted to live.

Chan rubbed your back, snapping you out of your daydream. He leaned over to kiss your forehead, chuckling as you smiled. "I never thought my kidnapper would be so happy to be cuddled up in a bed and kissed by the person they kidnapped."

You scoffed lightly, looking up at him as he pulled the covers over you both. "Never thought the person I kidnapped wanted me to still be in their life afterwards." Chan soon mirrored your smile, kissing you sweetly before sighing and closing his eyes as he fell asleep. You let your finger move across his rested features, admiring how they looked in the moonlight. When you kidnapped him and sat in the room for four days, you never got to see his features up close due to the room's darkness. Now that you had ample lighting, you took any and every opportunity to admire him. You admired how his eyes slightly crinkle when he smiles, the way he licks and bites his lips when he's focused, then applies chapstick afterward. You studied his routines; he gets home from work, takes off his clothes, and puts them on together on a hanger to go be dry cleaned at the end of the week, all to be pressed as well. Then, he'll go shower using gel shower soap that smells like a fancy wine bar, then pours himself a glass of wine before making dinner, then sits down to do some work as he eats.

He was sweet to you and catered to you in every way possible. You had truly fallen for him, and so had he.

Chan promised that he would keep you safe and to do so, he never referred to the robbery or your past life beyond the walls of his apartment. He would drive you to and from work and bring you food. He wanted to keep you safe and near his heart at all times.

So when he came into work the next morning and noticed his old boss sitting in one of his chairs waiting for him, he froze. He hadn't seen him since he quit the week after the robbery. He cleared his throat, leaning back to tell his secretary that he was in a meeting and to not let anyone else into the room before closing the door, making his boss turn around.

"Ah, Chan. How have you been? I see that you have moved on to bigger and better things."

Chan made no comment, walking to sit down at his desk before sighing, folding his hands together as he leaned back in his chair. "I noticed your hair is no longer black. I didn't know my number one bank teller was into bleaching his hair."

Chan had bleached his hair after he changed jobs, you helping him as his own hair stylist was out of town for a month.

His old boss took a minute to see that Chan was not in the mood for old banter, sighing before deciding to get on with his point. "I was able to get some footage from the robbery of all of their faces without the masks. I'm going to the police with it and getting my hands on the money that they're shoveling out to find them."

That caught Chan's attention and made his heart stop.

The police had set out a bounty of 1.4 million won for any critical information that anyone had about the robbery. The police had been chasing them since it happened and had even taken every employee for an interview to see if they could get a clear description of the events that happened and the robbers. However, everyone had either forgotten about how they looked or was in too much shock to remember anything.

At Chan's silence, he leaned forward to stare at him. "Come on, Chan, you should be excited about this. Those criminals are going to be behind bar-" "Are you ever going to move on, Mr. Park Myung-hoon" Chan didn't mean to sound so cold and condescending, but his mind immediately went to you. If he had footage and you were on it, they could come after you as your appearance may have changed, but not your face shape and voice.

Myung-Hoon raised an eyebrow at Chan's tone of voice, crossing his arms. "Are you suffering from Stockholm syndrome or something? Do you not understand what this kind of evidence could do?" Chan's eye twitched at his comment about Stockholm syndrome, rolling his eyes to soothe his growing annoyance. "Chan, come on. Did your kidnapper give you some kind of kiss or promise that is driving you crazy? Did she offer you some kind of washed up pussy-"

"Enough. Shut your mouth or you can get the fuck out of my office."

Myung-hoon and Chan had a stare-off, Chan's voice now showing his annoyance as he repeated what he said. He would not take any sort of disrespect about you, not thinking about how it looked to his former boss. Myung-Hoon puts his hands up in defeat, standing up before sliding his business card over to him on the desk making Chan raise an eyebrow. "I'll let you know when I'm going to send it to the police. If you want to come with me and you snap out of your...feelings, call me."

Chan bit the inside of his cheek as he left, his eyes going to the card before he grabbed his phone, texting you immediately about his plans. You sent nothing back, but you read it, Chan seeing the notification. He hoped you had an idea, sighing before he focused back on work, thinking about you in the back of his mind all day.

He rushed home after work, eager to see you and help in any way he could, bursting through the door, hoping to see you sitting on the couch as you always were when he returned home, but was met with an empty couch, you nowhere in sight. There was no trace of you anywhere in the apartment, making Chan's heart drop as he looked around. The bed was still freshly made and there were no dishes in the sink from you.

You were nowhere in sight.

Chan sighed, calling you multiple times with no response. He rested his elbow on the counter, his hand running over his face as he stared at his phone. He had sent you multiple messages, all with no read receipt from you. He felt his body begin to become weak and his eyes start to well up. He felt the same way when he returned home for the first time following the robbery. He would never admit it, but he fell into a deep depression following that until you came into his office. Now, he was falling back into the feeling. As he leaned his head back to stop his tears from falling, noticing a note on the bathroom counter. He rushed to it, opening it quickly to hopefully get an idea of where you were.

Chan, I know about your boss's plan. I can't stay here. It's too much of a risk. I hope one day soon we meet again. I love you and no one will ever replace you in my mind and heart. Goodbye Chan.

Chan's hands began to shake as his tears hit the paper, his eyes rereading the paper over and over again. You were gone. Again. He wouldn't be able to see you anymore; he can't come home to you, he can't kiss you, he can't sleep next to you anymore.

You were gone.

Chan didn't usually allow himself to cry, but he made an exception for the moment, falling to his knees as he sobbed. The rain that aggressively hit the windows blocked out the sound of his sobs as he lay on the ground. He couldn't accept that you were gone. He thought that he may have Stockholm due to how much his heart was hurting, but he honestly didn't care.

He thought about you so much over the next few months. He was going through the motions of life so as to not disturb anyone else. He kept up his outward appearance and tried to keep up his emotions, but cried when he returned home.

So, he decided to go visit his mom in Australia for a bit. He hadn't seen her in so long and missed her dearly. Whenever things went horribly, his mom was the first person he'd go to growing up, so why not now when he was an adult? He took two weeks off of work before going down to see his mom, embracing her at the airport before following her to the car, laughing as she rapidly fired off questions to him. When she asked if he had a girlfriend as he placed his luggage into the trunk, he paused, gulping before replying with "no mom, not anyone you could meet yet anyways."

He tried his hardest to no longer think about you as he helped his mom out around the house and spent time with her. He helped his mom make kimchi and bake for her neighbors, his mom not skipping out on the opportunity to try and get him with her neighbor's daughter. He tried to get to know her like he got to know you, but found himself comparing you to her. He felt disgusted by how he was acting about it, but he couldn't help but think about you whenever she tried to flirt with him. He felt nothing when she touched his arm, and felt nothing when she asked him to come to a masquerade party that a friend of hers was holding. He, of course, tried to refuse but his mom cut in, saying that he would go.

He sighed as he stood in front of the mirror in the opera house, splashing water on his face as he tried to calm down. "Come on Chan. She's probably forgotten all about you at this point. It's time for you to move on." He stared at his reflection as he calmed down, putting on his mask after a bit before walking out to join his "date," smiling at her matching mask. He followed her to the room the party was being held, the room filled with bars serving expensive drinks and people wearing expensive suits and dresses. The room was filled with people who were in the top 1 percent. Chan wondered how he met her friend, following her to the dance floor. He spun her around as they danced, Chan actually having fun for a while before her friend pulled her away to dance with her, Chan wandering off to one of the bars.

After he ordered his wine, her looked around the room, no longer seeing his date. He figured she went outside with her friend, deciding to go look for her as he reached for his wine, a beautifully manicured nail poking his hand as he made contact with the glass. He chuckled softly as both hands moved away from the glass, Chan turning to face the figure.

"My apologies." Chan smiled, admiring the figure's outfit. She wore a beautiful white dress along with a white bunny mask that only left her mouth shown, which had beautiful red lips quirked into a smirk. She extended her hand, shaking his as her other hand grabbed the glass, pulling Chan close as she whispered into his ear.

"Nice to see you again, Channie."

Chan's eyes widened as he listened to your voice, his head snapping to face where you were now walking. He felt stunned as he watched you walk into the sea of bodies, finally rushing after you after your body disappeared. He weaved through the bodies, looking for you as the music and lights filled his senses. He knew you were somewhere in the sea, he just needed to find you.

And find you he did.

He found you at the top of the steps, making your way outside as you turned your head to face him, winking before closing the door behind you. It was like Chan was in a trance, following behind you as his date called out for him. He paid her no mind, following you outside. His eyes scanned the softly lit backyard area, the water crashing against the rocks nearby as the fairy lights lit up the seating area. And there, he saw you. You were sitting down on a couch facing the water, your lips allowing the taste of wine to fill your mouth, leaving red lipstick on the glass. For the first time, Chan felt jealous of an anandamide object. He walked down to where you were seat, sitting down next to you as he removed his mask, placing it next to yours that was on the lush grass. You made no movement to face him, only taking another sip of the wine before handing it to him, allowing him to drink the rest of what was left, which he did. His lips touched where your red lips had left a mark, facing you as he did. Neither one of you spoke no words to the other, just staring at one another. His eyes scanned your face, noticing how the makeup you wore only enhanced how you looked. Just like how he remembered you looked back in Korea, you look the same in Australia.

You chose to speak first, a smile on your lips as you spoke. "I missed you. You look well."

"You look the same," You giggled at how shocked Chan sounded, nodding. He softly held your hand, happy to see that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him as his thumb moved against your wrist. "I..I have so many questions. I don't know where to start." Chan couldn't formulate how much he missed you into a proper sentence, his mind clouded as he stared at you. Without thinking, he leaned over to kiss you, your lips combining into a perfect puzzle as he pulled you close. He let his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so you were straddling him, his lips smudgining your lipstick as he dragged his lips down your cheek and jaw to your neck, smiling as you gasped at him leaving hickies along your neck.

"Chan" he moaned at your whine, Chan picking you up as he stood up. He kissed you once more, not wanting to stop touching you. You tossed your head back, stopping him from reattaching your lips together.

You held his hand as you led him to your car, having him get into the passenger before you got into the driver's seat. Chan was surprised that you had an expensive car, asking you about it as you sped down the highways. "I live an expensive life now, Channie~" Chan sighed softly at the nickname you gave him, his hand resting on your thigh as you pulled up to your apartment building. You led him inside, not caring about your once perfect lipstick now smudged and also on Chan's lips, taking him to your penthouse.

Chan took a minute to admire your beautiful home that was filled with artwork and beautiful furniture. Before he could ask about it, his eyes moved to you slowly removing your dress as you made your way to the bedroom. Chan followed the array of clothing you left in your wake, removing his own to place next to your own before leaning against the doorway, staring down at you. You rested on the bed against the plush pillows, staring right back at him with dark eyes. He smirked as he licked his lips, making his way over to the chair where your robe rested, taking the ribbon from it. "Look at you. All laid out on this bed, waiting for me to fuck you like the slut you are. It seems like you haven't changed from the when we met."

You smirked as Chan crawled up the bed to you, roughly tying your hands behind your back before pressing you down against the bed. His lips moved across your neck, his hands moving around your body as he listened to you whine his name. Chan was in no rush to give you any sort of power, sucking marks in his wake before kissing you roughly, his fingers playing with your clit, making you arch to him. ''Oh, so now you want me to touch you. Words baby. Tell me what you want."

"Oh my fucking god Chan, if you don't-"

Chan cut you off with his lips, pushing a finger into you, the kiss muffling your loud moan, Chan swallowed your moans as he added another finger, moving it quickly. He pulled back, staring down at you as he curled his fingers, a smirk on his face from how loud you were. "Great to know that no one was playing with my pussy while I was gone." Chan pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty and near your high as he licked them clean.

You watched with an open mouth as he moved so your legs were wrapped around his waist, leaning forward so his hands were beside your head. "Now, without cursing and like a good girl: Tell me what you want, princess."

You gulped at Chan's tone of voice, missing his commanding, stern voice while you both were separated. You struggled against the ribbon that held your wrists, your ego coming out as you scoffed, leaning your head up near his as you spoke. "Fuck me."

Chan raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as he kissed his teeth, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat before pinning you back down against the bed roughly, pushing into you at the same time, making you scream. Chan waited until you adjusted to him being in you, loosening his grip around your throat as his thumb moved across your bottom lip. "I gave you one simple task and you couldn't do it. Now, I'm going to have to retrain you to remember who you belong to."

Chan didn't give you a chance to speak as his hips began to move fast in and out of you, leaving you breathless as he occasionally applied pressure to your throat whenever he hit your spot. Chan leaned down to bite your shoulder, holding in his groans as his hips moved quickly, practically breaking you in half as he moved. He leaned back at the sound of you whining that you were going to cum, Chan chuckling darkly.

"OK, and? I don't care baby. We're not stopping till I do." He smirked as you came around him, Chan licking his lip at your wetness dripping down onto his balls and thighs, his eyes meeting yours as you begged for him to calm down. He did slow down, his hips rolling to meet yours, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Are you going to be good now, baby?" He asked, his voice deep as he talked down to you, stifling a laugh at the sound of your horse voice saying yes. He nodded, his hand moving from around your throat to press his thumb and index finger to your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth, Chan then spat into your mouth, kissing you messily afterward.

"Fill me up, Channie~" Chan paused at your voice, rolling his hips into you as he whined, nodding. "I'm gonna do it, baby. Just for you." He repeated as his hips picked up speed once more, moving roughly as he raced to meet his end, you whining at the feeling of overstimulation. Chan quickly reached behind you to rip away the ribbon, allowing you to run your hands over him and dig your nails down his back, urging him to cum in you, which he did after winning your name softly, his hips halting into you. He paused, breathing heavily as he looked down at you, sticking his tongue out as sweat rolled down his abs. He kept his eyes on you, admiring how you glowed. He pulled out, falling next to you as he kissed your thigh, making you giggle.

Always after any sort of sex, Chan worshiped your body. He would lay you down as he kissed your body and massaged your body. He wanted to show you how much he loved and worshiped you.

After he kissed all over your body, you let your thumb rub his cheek before wrapping the top sheet around your body, making your way to the bathroom, Chan following behind you.

"Where did you go?" Chan suddenly asked, making you stop in your tracks. You turned on the bath, not saying a word before holding out your hand to him, pulling him into the bath with you as you let the top sheet leave your body. You both got in, your back resting against his chest. You waited a minute before speaking, pressing a kiss to his jaw before you spoke. "Once I heard what your boss was doing, I quickly packed up and moved here. I had enough money to get this place and the car..you know, start new. I was going to call you and tell you, but I didn't know if you were working with your boss in bringing me in or not."

"If I was, wouldn't I have turned you in the minute you entered my office?" You nodded at Chan's question, smiling as his lips met your shoulder. "I missed you so much, Y/N. I missed you so very much."

"I missed you too, Chan. You have no idea." You whispered, closing your eyes against his chest.

After taking a bath and talking more, you went back to the bed together, cuddling as Chan texted his date, apologizing about ditching her before he returned his attention to you. "What are we going to do now?" He asked, making you shrug. "I don't want to risk going back to Korea as Professor told us we should stay away until your old boss focuses on something else."

"What about if I move here? I've been looking for a change of scenery and my mom had been bugging me about visiting more often."

He wanted to be with you and would do anything it took to be with you. Even if it meant leaving his whole life behind in Korea to move to Australia and stay with you.

So, he did and never looked back.

[casitafallz]

LTRL AU | Packed Issues

As it turned out, breaking and entering was very easy.

Isabela had started first by having Fran check out the house to make sure it was empty and that the area around was quiet. A few houses had windows facing towards them but…Isabela used her gift to grow the nearby bushed just a little bit to mask the direct line of sight then a series of bush-trunk-like steps that gave her a direct access to his bedroom window.

Fran had given her a set of old clothes which were burgundy and green and a scarf which she kept around her head when she built the steps up, not that it was overly high given it didn’t have a second floor. No one robbed a home in familiar clothes.

“All he wants is three changes of clothes, sandals and the big book under his bed with the decorative box next to it.” Fran reminded as she began her ascent up.

“Okay.” Isabela didn’t wait for anything less than a warning before she lowered herself carefully down and got to work; straight to his wardrobe where inside was his clothes and a bag. She grabbed that before she realised one thing; it was full.

She frowned carefully, opening it up to see it already packed, his clothes by the stale scent. Did he prepack and forgot? She could see a few empty hangers and more empty spaces on the shelves…at least it looked emptier than it should. She just took that instead and dropped it out the window.

“Oh you’re faster than I ex—ow!” Fran swore softly.

Isabela dropped softly to peer under the bed where she wrinkled her nose at the mess underneath before she began to move some of the lost laundry before the box was the first thing she uncovered.

It was… about the size of a show box and handcrafted with beautiful carvings etched into floral patterns on all of its sides. As tempted as she was, Isabela didn’t open it and just tucked it off onto the side before she found the huge freaking tome of a book.

She shoved the mess back into place, struggling to the window with both but withdrew all her plants away as Fran shut the shutters again and they quickly hurried back towards Fran’s.

Only for Fran to lead her to the backyard where she saw a wagon set up behind a wall; out of immediate sight.

“So soon?”

“It’s my Abuelo’s wagon he had to carry stuff when they fled. They kept it in good condition so we use it. Just load up here for now. All I’ll need is to get the donkey and we’ll be good to leave.” Fran shrugged, setting the bag into the top then took the offered box and book and opened up a small compartment and tucked to book inside for safekeeping.

“You gonna steal one?” Isabela guessed with a smile.

“Yep, why stop at robbing Mateo’s house?” Fran winked before pulling a tarp back over the few bags in, “Why don’t you start getting stuff to pack? Or some supplies made in advance?”

“Ugh….yeah.” She knew that was what she should go and do but…that risked going back home. Abuelita would no down try and talk her down but… she didn’t want to deal with that right now. “Have you got any sacks and baskets I could use?”

Fran paused for a moment, “Not…many. We use our baskets every day. We tend to only have Maize and potato sacks at our disposal.”

“Can you get them?” Isabela asked hopefully. “I can’t produce the dried-out kernels but I produce it all on the cobs whole.” They didn’t have time to dry them out and make it easier to transport with most of them… she had to grow the whole plant first to do so. She hadn’t learned how to just make the maize kernels by itself, or wheat either. So it was a lot of manual work that neither of them had time for.

She was sure once they had found a place, to get a garden they could use it as backstock and for show. But coming in, they had to prepare and…sure fabric would be long-term. If she could get raw fruits and veg made, then they had an immediate start-up for quick cash.

“Okay. Go home and pack. I’ll bring the wagon around at eight tonight.” Fran patted her arm, though waved her off in her typical manner to get going.

-

Mirabel sat quietly in her room, the gift she had been planning to give just…sat on her knee but her insides continued to roll with her anxiety it wasn’t just about learning Isabela was just going to up and leave them all but…this was the first…real argument she had had with her sister.

The last time almost ended with her death.

This time, it hadn’t. But her heart still raced about it.

She still felt…angry at her Hermana. She was…going to leave them all. Her statement felt like it had value because…Isa was part of the family. Sure, it was a little broken but…they were still a family. Not only leave them but…also meant the baby wouldn’t be born into their family here either; he wouldn’t get to see how loved he would be growing up with them…Antonio—god she was already dreading when Antonio would find out. His little heart was fixed on befriending that baby as his own best friend.

Leaving meant making their broken family more broken. No way to repair the damage and… for what? Mirabel couldn’t understand it still. Things were hard but Isabela had coped well; she had what she needed here… Abuelita was the best and… they had time.

A soft knock pulled her mind to see Luisa pottering in carefully with Tio Bruno. In her hands, she had a tray with a reflective green shine off it that told her what it was.

Mirabel’s eyes lingered on it. “Take a seat. Is it fixed?” she offered the chairs

“Not fully but Tio’s an expert at puzzles,” Luisa spoke, setting it down.

Mirabel’s breath paused as she finally set eyes upon the image but her heart ached to see such a small, and beautiful baby boy, looking otherwise oblivious in his crib and looking to be seconds away from sucking his hand and—oh, he was wearing her knot hat. The effect was slightly ruined by the cracks that ran through down through his left ear.

“We’re glueing it down onto the tray base than just to the edges,” Tio spoke, pulling out a bottle of glue from his under his ruana. “I’m…really not up for making a new one just yet but I’m happy to fix this one.”

He went to sit on the floor but Casita shifted the boards to fling a chair under him, almost falling off in the process before he righted himself and carefully took the tray and moved back some of the loose pieces that had slid.

Luisa looked a little lost,  fiddling with a single piece of the vision’s edge between her fingers but her mind looked to be a world away.

“Tio,” Mirabel started, “did you know Isabela was leaving?”

Bruno’s fingers paused a little, his eyes flickering up to her face nervously. “I did.” His tone was careful.

Mirabel raised her eyebrow at him. “Seriously?!”

Bruno set the glue down, eyeing the door for a moment. “You’re mad about that?”

“She’ll break this family apart if she leaves, Tio.” Mirabel whined, “Why didn’t you tell us? Ma or Abuela?”

“I told your Abuelita.” Bruno wiped his hands down the front of his ruana. “I trust her with discretion more than my mother.”

“Abuelita’s supporting her leaving.” Mirabel gave him a look, “You told her and she’s giving her permission to just…go.”

Bruno shrugged, far too casually. “I know. But having anyone go off on her would speed up her leaving or worse, believe never coming back is the best option.” He gave her a look, which made her shrink back “Señora Rojas is a smart woman and do you think she would be supporting Isabela’s choices blindly?”

Mirabel opened her mouth to answer but Luisa spoke first.

“No?”

Bruno nodded approvingly to Luisa. “Señora Rojas knows more than you two. Do you understand why Isabela is leaving?”

“She wants to get away from us?” Luisa offered, “We thought…she got sick of her punishments.”

“She’s dealt with the punishments for almost eleven months now, Luisa.” Bruno reminded, surprisingly with an edge that reminded her of Abuela when she was slightly inconvenienced. “It’s not about the punishments. The family may be a factor but it’s not the cause.”

Mirabel made a discontent noise, folding her arms back around herself. “Didn’t sound like it.”

“Everyone says things that they don’t mean when they’re emotional,” Bruno stated. “I know why she’ll be leaving and…I think it’s the best course of action—"

“Tio!”

“—With that, I know.” He finished, not raising his voice like she would expect an adult would with an interruption. “I know you don’t want her to leave but this…this is important. I know you want her to stay and I know you want the baby to be born here and that you can all love him and…I want that as well. If she stays…there’s a worse future which means you still don’t get that.”

Mirabel’s head rose back to face him. Her mind stalled a little on that last bit. A worse future? What could possibly happen to make it worse? Her mind jumped to the possibility of…the baby being stillborn. That’d hurt everyone. Yeah…that…would be a bad future.

“You don’t have to agree or believe me but…Isabela leaving is her best course of action. For her sake and for the baby’s sake.” He reached for the bottle of glue, “At least then she’ll come back…or have the option to.” Bruno held his hand out for the piece Luisa had in her hands and stuck that down. “I’ll leave you two to finish now the important ones are done. Your Abuelita will be here after dinner to talk to your parents.”

-

Isabela was glad to finally push down and bind the cotton down with her vines to compress it further, binding and compressing down the last bit of the cotton before she shoved the sack over the top and bound that down to allow the internal vines to decay and release without causing the decompression that would split the bag. The vines strained but she was glad to see it hold, having done for a multitude of vines that were swirled together to increase strength integrity in the bind than having them snap as that rope did.

Cotton was now done. Flax for linin was tightly wrapped as well, many seeds were in little bags and stored in a small box for ease of transport. That was set ready to go with the rest of her clothes that she had packed along with the baby stuff she already had. She left a few old presents from selected family members on her desk in a pile because…she didn’t want to open herself up for anything.

Tio Felix had since passed along his gift for the baby so, that she did have packed as well with the baby things which…was only tucked away at the bottom of her bag since there wasn’t as much stuff to carry with him just yet. She packed a few changes of clothes; leaving her pretty dresses behind for good, her makeup but she opted for more practical packing; her tools and equipment. Her looms were covered and bagged. Her spinning wheel was set to be moved. Her bedcovers and pillows, she opted to take as well because that felt like some oversight when they should have some comforts on their travel.

“Isabela.” The voice interrupted her mulling.

Isabela didn’t turn to face her Abuelita but simply belted up her bag. “If you’re here to convince me to stay, you won’t work.” She stated.

“Two more days, Isa. Please.” Abuelita appeared at her side, her withered hand coming to touch her arm.

“No.” Isabela shook her head. “Now that Mirabel knows, I can’t just wait for the rest of the family to suddenly try and stop me…or worse try and throw shit into my face to guilt me into staying.” Not like Mirabel. She didn’t want that. Not again.

“I have yet to talk to the family…. I made sure to ask your siblings to say nothing on the matter until I could talk to them.”

“That…that doesn’t change anything,” Isabela gave her Abuelita a long look. “No matter how long it takes me to leave, their reactions will be the same and…I don’t want to deal with that. Not to mention, when Tia founds out, she’ll flood the place and make it impossible for me to leave in time.” That was another challenge she didn’t want to face. Not after Tia’s blatant interest in seeing Camilo get off his punishments or talking up Sara’s ass. She didn’t need her to pretend to care or get emotional about her going. She had much of a hand in this as the rest.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind.” Isabela set her jaw, “I’ll prepare a few letters for the family but I won’t meet with any of them.”

“Isa… they deserve more than just letters. You’re cutting them off by leaving without talking to them.” Abuelita looked just as concerned, “if you come back, nothing between you and the family will be healed.”

Isabela shrugged. “Right now, I don’t want to talk to them. They had their chances to do so for the last year and when it’s not convenient for them… I’m the one in the wrong?” Isabela pressed, “Abuelita, please. It took you pulling me out of Casita every other week for things to improve but that wasn’t enough. Not to mention, Antonio has access to birds who can do what he wants so really, not all the lines are dead after we’re gone.”

Abuelita’s lips pursed. “Do not leave without talking to me first.” There was a touch to her arm before she walked out, the front door distantly shutting.

The last bit about Antonio and his animal friends, Isabela had surprised herself on saying but…it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before given how it would be impossible for normal mail service to and from Encanto to where they could wind up. Animals, or trained animals at the least were the next best option; Antonio was the only one who could achieve that if she wanted…any shred of contact with her family.

Certainly for Abuelita and Abuelito… Antonio himself if he wanted to see his best friend grow up….assuming the kid would tolerate not actually meeting the baby just yet. The others? She didn’t know. Tio Felix would no doubt oversee anything she sent to Antonio but...Tia Pepa?

Nope.

How things had truly fallen between her and Tia. How close they used to be, Isabela remembered their dancing lessons mostly; how fun it was and how happy it made Tia. Moments of freedom between two trapped souls. Now…

Isabela turned around, coming to the side where the family photo she had was resting face-down before she picked it up, taking a final look to see most people accounted for in the picture—thank the lord she didn’t get a copy of Antonio’s birthday photo. This had…every one of her maternal side. She tossed that into her personal bag before she went in search of another few photos to take with her.

There were a few of her Tia Sofia’s family, but she opted not to take that; she wasn’t overly close with them after all. Word of mouth would be good enough for her son to learn about his other cousins. Her grandparents though were far harder to find. Their wedding photo was beautiful but certainly not one she was going to take. With no photos in frames of appeal, Isabela went to Abuelito’s study for his photo albums.

There, she found the perfect one; both of them in a single frame some years ago when they had their wedding anniversary; married for forty years. Looking very happy and still arm-in-arm. She felt a little envious but…maybe one day she could have that sort of love as well.

She had better chances now than before.

Isabela tucked that photo in between one of her books and added that in and continued to sort through her room.

-

“Vera, it’s okay.” Ruben’s voice was soft as she paced around the backrooms of their shop.

“No, it’s not. Isabela won’t even try with her family to actually talk and… I can’t convince her to wait. If I talk to the family now, they’ll get on their high horses and try and stop her…or worse, guilt her. I can’t…I don’t know how to tell them.” Vera admitted, “Everything else, I can handle but… this?”

Ruben set aside the set of pants he was adjusting and reached for her. “It’s hard because we know she has to leave and why, mi Vida.”

Vera hummed in agreement; they had to let her go but…how it looked to others meant it looked a tad hypocritical. She was always a ‘stand your ground and fix it’ than ‘run from your problems’ attitude. Telling the family she dies if she stayed felt like emotional blackmail she wasn’t willing to put on the family but there was no good reason aside from the shallow, superficial reasons they’d assume.

At least, none that would work prior to her leaving. After she was gone… it could be easier with fewer risks of running off to talk her out.

“It looks like I’m helping her pack and getting her lunch together for the trip!” Vera huffed, running her hand down the front of her dress though allowed herself to be tugged into his warm embrace. “I don’t…I don’t want her or anyone to leave with open wounds here.”

“You can’t help them all the time. Some things can’t just be resolved by us. This is something Isabela needs to do with her family.” Ruben rubbed her back, “Some things aren’t for us.”

“But—“

“We’ve done as much as we can.” Ruben pulled back. “As long as Isabela is safe…that the baby is safe then all we can hope for is that they come back at some point. Things are too rough between Isa and the family and… her injuries aren’t without reason.”

Vera huffed out. “I know.” She hated to admit that.

“Let her leave. I will close early and we can both talk to her before she goes, after which, we can talk to the family. They will be blindsided and hurt but… maybe that will motivate the family to get into action with the mess they still have. “

Vera’s shoulder’s slumped a little in dismay but… she knew Ruben was right. The worse lessons come at the biggest costs. Isabela had to go…. And as Isa had said, they weren’t without communication options.

[tears-and-smiles-ao3]

Petals In A Storm

Chapter 5: Exploring the keep

Fic masterpost

The room was sparse. A meagre double bed with thin sheets, a wooden wardrobe over in one corner, a chair in the other. It was as cold as Yennefer had described.

Now that they were finally alone for the first time in weeks, Jaskier felt like he could breathe properly. He threw himself onto the bed, his face smushed into the harsh linen. He sighed dramatically, then groaned and turned over.

“Fuck, that was horrible. I never want to do that again.”

He meant the portal specifically but the journey itself had been exhausting, more than the average journey on the road. They’d been dragged along here, somewhere Jaskier had always wanted to come to, but now it was soured by everything that had happened between him and Geralt.

It hadn’t escaped his attention that the witcher had walked away without waiting to see if everyone had arrived safely.

Sighing, Jaskier turned again, his hand running up the rough material of the sheet. He just wanted Geralt to care. Why was it so hard for the dumb idiot to wait a few more seconds?

Sam was putting away their clothes into the wardrobe, somehow not feeling as bad as Jaskier. He hummed as he plucked items from their bags and placed them on hangers.

“Would you hold me?” Jaskier asked, pouting. The smile that spread across Sam’s face made Jaskier feel lightheaded, or maybe he was still feeling weird. It didn’t change how secure he felt when Sam sat on the bed and pulled him into his arms.

*

Jaskier had fallen asleep, it seemed. He’d only realised this when he woke up in the bed alone, blinking in confusion. He reached out for Sam but he wasn’t there and Jaskier felt his heart rate increase rapidly.

He sat up quickly, began to push back the covers, then paused. Had Sam put the cover on him? He must’ve done it. Jaskier shook himself and got up, grabbing his coat. He needed to find Sam.

The door creaked when he opened it and he looked out into the corridor. His head turned back and forth before he decided to walk down the left one first. He had lived in a city for much of his younger life, so this must be a piece of cake. Right?

Wrong. Jaskier only realised he had been walking in circles when he saw the same cross-stitched banner of witchers standing in front of a castle at least three times. He knew it was the same one because there was also a small etching on the stonework that said ‘Lambert was here’ below it. He stopped and stared at it. Presumably this was the keep: Kaer Morhen. Was this a real past event or just an imagined one? 

“Lost?” a deep voice called behind him. Jaskier turned fast to see a hulking man leaning against the wall at the far end of the corridor that he had just walked down. Despite it still being light outside, the hall was dimly lit and he couldn’t make out his features.

“Maybe,” Jaskier shrugged, mirroring how the man leaned against the wall. “Who are you?”

“A witcher,” the mysterious male voice said. “And you are?”

“Bard, at your service,” Jaskier declared, bending forward into an elegant bow. When he rose, he saw that the witcher had walked closer. He could see him better as he passed a candle, illuminating his shape. His arms and chest were big, full of muscles that Jaskier immediately longed to have pinning him down. His short dark hair parted down the middle and tucked loosely behind his ears.

It was his face that really fascinated Jaskier. Red rivets winding down the right-hand side of his face, like rivers on a map. He wanted to touch them, let his fingers run over them.

His clothes were brighter than Geralt’s usual attire; a red jacket with black leather stripes and a grey shirt underneath. His broad shoulders were covered in small metal spikes and his thick thighs concealed in black. The whole ensemble made Jaskier’s mouth run dry.

“So, um, I-”

“You’re new here,” Eskel stated, his eyes not quite meeting his own. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as Jaskier’s eyes raked over him. It was a curious interaction and Jaskier wanted to know more.

“I am, yes. Do I look that out of place?”

Eskel chuckled. His eyes locked with Jaskier’s briefly but they flickered away before he could see the bard arch his back against the wall. Instead, the witcher spoke to the floor. “I guessed. Do you want me to show you around?”

“That would be nice.” Jaskier purred, then bit his lips playfully when the witcher looked up at him again.

Eskel cleared his throat, his eyes diverted once again. “Let’s start through here.”

While the witcher held out his hand to gesture where to walk, Jaskier took the opportunity to strut slowly, emphasising every small step he took. If he was correct in his assumption that this witcher was both shy and interested, he was going to put on a good show. He swayed his hips, then looked back over his shoulder.

Eskel’s eyes flickered up, blinking as if the light was suddenly too bright for him. He looked affected and that made Jaskier grin. Leaning against the wall, he arched his back again, this time the witcher saw him.

“Um, that door up ahead, that leads to armoury. I don’t know how often a bard needs to go there, but there it is.” Eskel waved his hand out, motioning past Jaskier.

Jaskier beamed at him, pushing off the wall and stepping towards Eskel. He let a finger trace down Eskel’s armoured chest. “I am not defenceless, my good witcher.”

He watched Eskel. How a half smile appeared on his face for less than a second. How his fingers were still fidgeting despite his arms being plastered down by his sides like they were glued there.

Jaskier looked over at the door Eskel had pointed at. “So, what else?”

Eskel cleared his throat, then began leading the way again. They walked down another corridor, stopping at a few doors to look inside. There were all residential rooms, though most of them were in a severe state of disrepair. Jaskier didn’t really pay attention after the first two of these rooms, but each time Eskel opened a door, it gave Jaskier a chance to rub up against him. It was adorable how flustered the witcher looked.

Finally, they turned a corner and there were no more doors. Jaskier was almost disappointed, except it gave him an opportunity to eye up Eskel’s delicious thighs without being caught. Not that he cared about being caught.

“Here is the library,” the witcher explained, turning towards a large door and pulling it open. The door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in a few years.

“Now this, this is what I like to see,” Jaskier exclaimed, marching straight into the room. It should have looked like a large room but with the amount of books stacked everywhere, it felt cramped. Yet, Jaskier delighted in running his fingers across the old tomes. He desperately wanted to dive into them all if time would allow.

“There’s lots of information here. I haven’t read even a tenth of these books in all my long years.”

Jaskier snorts. “You make it sound like you’re ancient.”

“I am ancient compared to a human. Old as bones.”

“Yeah, right.”

The rest of the tour was fairly uneventful, except for Jaskier’s constant flirting. He continued to let his hands rest on Eskel, small touches on his arms or shoulders whenever he held open any door for him. He winked, he licked his lips, he even waggled his eyebrows. If it had been any other man or woman, Jaskier would have at least known if it was working by now. Eskel had been unreadable. Typical witcher.

“This is the closet where we keep all our furs. It can get really cold at night, so take as many as you need.”

“Oh,” exclaimed Jaskier. “How many furs do you have on your bed?”

“I- Um,” Eskel stammered. If a witcher could blush, Jaskier is sure Eskel would be scarlet right now. As it was, it looked like he was sweating, which was something considering this place was cold even in summer.

Picking up one of the furs, Jaskier spoke in a low voice. “This is a spare room, right? Why don’t you show me how to wrap up warm at night?”

“O- Okay,” the witcher stammered, and then picked up a handful of furs and followed Jaskier into the room.

He had assumed that the witcher would be on him as soon as they entered, but he just stood by the door watching him.

“This is a typical bedroom,” Eskel explained. He was standing so close to the wall, like it would stop him from collapsing. “Not much to see, but, well…” Eskel pointed to the bed and swallowed hard. Jaskier took the initiative, walking towards the witcher, pinning him with a flirty smile.

“And how many furs do you have on your bed?” Jaskier asked quietly while running a hand over the bundled material in Eskel’s arms. The witcher flinched but his eyes were fixed on Jaskier.

“Er, I usually have three furs. You probably need five at least.”

“Aren’t there other ways to keep warm?” Jaskier teased. He looked down at the bed, threadbare material covering the straw within, and then winked at the witcher.

Eskel coughed, looking at the floor again. He stepped forward without looking up, dumping the furs onto the bed and arranging them.

Jaskier came up behind him, reaching around to help pull down one of the furs. Eskel froze, his hands pressed down onto the bedding. “What else do you do if you’re feeling cold, witcher?” Jaskier asked, his voice like silk.

“Um,” Eskel stammered. “I usually have a drink. Alone in my room.”

Jaskier smiled, then crawled onto the bed. “And what, dear witcher, if you had company?”

The witcher looked at him, his eyes growing darker, but remaining where he stood, bent over the bed.

“I don’t usually have people in my bed.”

Jaskier frowned for a second, then opened his legs wider. “What about this bed?”

That did it. Eskel put his knee on the bed and leaned over Jaskier. He brought his head down towards him and Jaskier’s breath hitched a little. He expected the witcher to get down to business, like any other lay would do, but he hesitated, looking at his lips. Jaskier licked them, feeling his pulse quicken underneath Eskel’s stare.

“Can I kiss you?” the witcher asked.

It wasn’t quite what Jaskier expected and his hesitation seemed to have the wrong impact. Before Eskel could move back, Jaskier reached out and pulled the witcher towards him and crashed their lips together.

Eskel’s lips were soft against his own, much softer than he expected. He gripped tight to the witcher’s jacket and began moving them backwards up the bed. Jaskier shuffled and Eskel crawled up after him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Eskel asked, slotting his body in Jaskier’s open legs.

“Yes, I do. More than anything,” Jaskier reassured. He leaned up, kissing the witcher again and letting out little satisfied noises while his hands roamed down that magnificent chest. The muscles were bulging, strong and firm and everything that Jaskier wanted. He began unlacing the witcher’s shirt to get his hands on him.

Eskel was still focused on kissing him senseless. His kisses were tender, gentle as his tongue swiped inside his mouth. Jaskier felt breathless, but it didn’t stop him from trying to get the witcher’s jacket and shirt off his shoulders.

“I’ve got a lot of scars,” Eskel warned before Jaskier could finish his task. He pulled his shirt back down but let his jacket fall down his shoulders.

Jaskier just shook his head. “I don’t mind scars.” It was the truth. He’d seen the scars on Geralt, with more and more added each year. The lines defined him, Jaskier thought, it made him beautiful.

He was still shocked to see the mess of scars on the witcher’s chest and stomach for the brief second he saw them. Huge puckered patches covered most of his skin, some bits raised and other bits sunken. If Jaskier had thought his face was like a map, this was something else. They were like sprawling towns, seeking to expand and join up with each other. Towns that had been built on top of each other.

Eskel squirmed, clearly not convinced. “It’s awful to look at. Lets- Let me just focus on you.”

“No,” Jaskier shouted, a bit too loudly. He hadn’t meant to make it a demand, but when Eskel seemed to be curling in on himself, he quickly added, “I mean, only if you want to. I don’t mind scars and I mean that.”

The witcher did mind his scars because he tied up some of his laces, drawing a line under that option. Jaskier wanted to pout, see if he could get his way, but instead pulled the witcher back down on top of him.

Then they were back to kissing again and Jaskier let his hands run through the witcher’s hair. It was also softer than he anticipated. He tugged, eliciting a moan from Eskel, who rutted down hard against him.

“What do you want?” he asked softly.

Jaskier blinked up at him, confused. “What?”

“What kind of sex do you want? Do you want me to touch you or pleasure you with my mouth? Do you want to fuck me?”

Jaskier swallowed. He’d never been asked this before. “Anything, really. You decide.”

The witcher frowned a little, but then he rolled them over and kissed him again and Jaskier forgot all about it. Eskel’s hands gripped tight onto his ass, rocking him forward. He was straddling the witcher, his hands resting on the mattress beside Eskel’s head.

Eskel pushed him up to sit, smiling. “Give me a show. Take off your clothes.”

Jaskier’s eyes darkened. He liked it when all the attention was on him and he was only too happy to oblige. He knew his body still looked good, despite his years. All the walking that he had done, only eating what was caught for the night, had made him much stronger than in his teenage years. He had been in even better shape before his two years holed up in Oxenfurt, but he still looked good right now.

He began removing his burgundy coat. The leather creaked and squeaked as he let it slip off his shoulder. Biting his lips, he moved his hands up to his chest. His fingers began to pop each button on his waistcoat, one by one. He moved slowly, deliberately, with his eyes glued to the witcher’s. 

When he peeled back the waistcoat with both hands, his chest flexed underneath his shirt. He winked then, before letting the material slip soundly down his shoulders. 

His hands moved back up his chest, bringing them up to caress around his neck. He let out a little gasp, then began unlacing the ties of his shirt. As each one fell away, more of his dark chest hair was revealed.

Then, with fingers gripping lightly onto the bottom hem of his shirt, he pulled it up over his head.

Eskel’s eyes were dark with lust as he watched Jaskier’s whole performance. He rolled his hips, rubbing his erection against Jaskier.

“Now, what shall we do?” Jaskier teased. He leaned down, one hand cupping his face as he looked him deeply in his eyes.

In response, Eskel reached between them and began unlacing Jaskier’s trousers. “Let’s get you properly naked.”

Jaskier shivered as he shucked off the rest of his clothes. Eskel’s hands were warm as they ran over his skin, up his thighs, across his chest.

“Now, you, even if it’s just your cock,” Jaskier pleaded. Eskel looked at him for a long second before he nodded. He shifted his hands down to the laces of his breeches and pulled them loose slowly while Jaskier watched. Lifting his hips up into the air, he pushed his breeches down and then pulled his cock out. It was so large, wide and long, that Jaskier felt his eyes widen comically.

”Oh, boy,” Jaskier gulped, his mouth suddenly dry as he contemplated the sheer size. It was larger than any other cock Jaskier had seen. “Well, that’s…That’s a delight.”

“We don’t,” Eskel began, but Jaskier shook his head. He grasped the witcher’s hand and brought it down, urging Eskel to wrap his broad hands around both their erections and start stroking them together.

“We do, we definitely do.”

Tingles ran up Jaskier’s spine as they worked their joined hands up and down in tandem. It felt like an electrical storm brewing within and Jaskier couldn’t help the soft whimpers that left his lips.

He felt Eskel’s other hand run up his chest. His fingers latched onto a nipple and pinched hard. Jaskier gasped.

“You like that?” Eskel asked, his eyes watching Jaskier closely. It was true that he felt a little off kilter, unsure of what the witcher wanted, but he nodded. He wanted this, he really did. In fact, he wanted this like yesterday. He reached with his other hand, searching for his coat pocket to pull out a bottle of oil and then presented it to Eskel.

The witcher stared at the bottle, a frown on his face. It made Jaskier wonder if he had ever fucked anyone before. Surely he knew what the oil was for.

Instead of explaining, Jaskier opened the bottle with his teeth and took the witcher’s right hand in his. He coated Eskel’s fingers with a copious amount of oil and then guided his hand around and behind him. He leaned forward further, giving the witcher more access, ready for his fingers to breach him.

When Eskel didn’t do anything, Jaskier simply pushed down on his hand, sending the witcher’s fingers inside.

“It’s okay, I can take it. I want it,” he reassured. “Just use your fingers to gently stretch me out.” Then he took Eskel’s lips into a deep kiss, groaning as the witcher finally moved his fingers, slowly at first and then a little faster.

It felt strange being the one taking the lead, but the witcher was very responsive and soon had worked him open enough.

Leaning back, Jaskier pulled Eskel’s fingers out and then made him stroke his large, thick cock, coating it in oil. Then, he lifted himself up, positioning himself over the witcher’s cock, and braced himself to sink down.

The head of Eskel’s cock felt enormous pressed against his hole, but Jaskier wasn’t put off. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly as he sank himself down. It took a while and Jaskier kept his eyes closed throughout, focusing on his muscles relaxing, welcoming the witcher inside him.

A thumb gently stroked against his skin, Eskel’s hands resting on his hips. When Jaskier bottomed out, he opened his eyes and looked at the witcher. He looked debauched already. Jaskier clenched his muscles, squeezing around Eskel’s thick cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Eskel groaned out, and Jaskier smirked. This was going to be fun.

He began moving, his hips settling into a rhythm as he bounced up and down. His hands settled on the witcher’s chest, pushing a finger underneath the half opened shirt and seeking out the lines that marred his body. Eskel winced as if burned, but Jaskier wasn’t having any of that.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, watching as Eskel’s eyes looked up at him, almost reverential.

He continued moving, focusing on the cock deep within him, how full he felt, the drag of it against his inner walls. Being stretched obscenely wide felt amazingly good and he wanted the witcher to know that. Each time he sank back down, he let out a loud moan. The witcher just panted heavily below him.

At some point, Jaskier had let his head drop back and closed his eyes. He was so lost in everything he was feeling that he nearly yelped when he felt Eskel’s broad hands wrap around his cock.

Jaskier wanted this to last longer, but Eskel wasn’t making that easy. His large hands enveloped him completely, and he stroked him so tightly. Fuck, he could feel himself crashing towards orgasm far too quickly.

He opened his eyes and saw that Eskel wasn’t doing much better. His eyes were barely open, his face scrunched up in effort. It took Jaskier’s breath away and he clenched down, grinning at the effect it had on the witcher.

“Fuck, please, I want you to come first,” Eskel begged. Jaskier slowed a little, his eyes raking over the witcher’s face. He was used to pleasuring others and getting his later, if at all, but this was something different. It was curious but he couldn’t focus on it right now. Right now, he needed Eskel to come.

“Let’s race,” he said instead, beginning to ride the witcher faster than before. He could see the sweat drenching Eskel’s forehead, struggling to hold off. It made Jaskier wild with need, whining in pleasure as the witcher stripped his cock at speed.

They moved faster and faster, panting heavily as they crashed towards the inevitable. Jaskier felt Eskel let go first, his cock pulsing within, but he wasn’t far behind. Two strokes later and his body stilled as his orgasm violently shook through him. The world descended into a white blur as his nerve endings were overwhelmed in pleasure. It was the strongest orgasm he had experienced in quite a while.

Eskel was looking at him with soft eyes when Jaskier opened his once more. It was unnerving how they watched him.

“That was pretty amazing, even if I do say so myself.”

Eskel chuckled. “It was not what I expected from my winter at Kaer Morhen.”

That was curious. “Oh. I always imagined it would be fun to be here.”

“It really isn’t.” Eskel said. He reached out and pulled Jaskier towards him, kissing him deeply. “Thank you, I enjoyed this.”

Jaskier scoffed. “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled back, feeling the coolness of his spend across his chest and noticing how he had ruined Eskel’s shirt. “But we do need to clean up.”

*

Afterwards, Eskel had walked him back around the keep as they headed towards the great hall. Jaskier tried to take in what Eskel was saying to him, but it was never going to stick in his memory. He was going to get very lost the next time he went anywhere in this place.

When they arrived at the great hall, the evening meal was just being served. There were two long wooden tables that lined the room. Long benches lay on each side, and at the top of the right-hand table was a large steaming iron pot. A few bowls sat beside it.

Jaskier could already see that the witchers, who had taken up residence on the table on the left-hand side, were glaring at him. Sam and Yennefer sat alone on the other table. Ah, so it was like that.

“Well, it seems this is where we part,” Jaskier said, giving Eskel a wink. The witcher just walked away, sitting down beside his brothers. The red-haired witcher slid a bowl of food towards him.

Jaskier just shrugged and headed over to sit beside Sam.

“Hey,” Sam said, pulling him in for a kiss. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh,”Jaskier said, as he sat down, catching Eskel’s eyes on the other table, “just getting lost and having to be rescued.”

Sam laughed. “Sounds about right. You have a ridiculously bad sense of direction.”

“Yeah, I would make the world’s worst spy,” Jaskier replied, grinning widely. Sam returned his grin, too, but when he looked over at Eskel, the witcher was staring at his food. He shrugged. Maybe the witcher didn’t think it was funny.

Yennefer took a bite of her food. “No one wants a twit as a spy, bard.”

“Really, witch? I’m sure you’re right. Secrets can only be uncovered in silence, after all.”

He laughed as Yennefer snorted. It was nice to have her around. It felt almost normal if he didn’t look over at the other table, crowded with witchers like they were enemies at war.

Yennefer caught his quick glances. “Bunch of children,” she said. “I wouldn’t worry about them. They’ll get out of their ‘shy phase’ at some point.”

Sam hummed. “The old man is not so bad. He seemed happy to have my help in the kitchen.”

Jaskier smiled up at Sam. So, that’s where he had gone. It was nice to know he had found something nice to do.

“What did you make then?”

Sam pointed to the potatoes and the veg. “The potatoes. Vesemir wouldn’t let me touch the meat. Seems I’m not yet trusted,” Sam said, with a huge smile on his face. “I’ll break him down.”

“Oh, I know you will,” remarked Yennefer.

“How do you know?” Jaskier asked, his voice rising higher than he intended.

“I know,” Yennefer replied, her eyes sparkling.

Jaskier had barely finished his meal before the witchers were cleaning up the place. His plate was unceremoniously pulled from his clutch.

“Bit rude,” Jaskier commented to Sam, who just chuckled lightly. 

“I think you might need to eat faster while we’re here. They seem terribly efficient.”

“I think it’s time we head off,” Yennefer declared and walked out the main doors, with Sam and Jaskier following her lead. Still, Jaskier snuck a look back at Eskel, but the witcher had his back to the door.

[uwandapieceofme]

Newcastle, Take 2

As I was winding down my trip, I returned to Newcastle in the hopes of winning tickets to see Sam Fender perform at the O2 Town Hall. I booked two weeks at a cheap Airbnb near Northumbria University. The building had formerly been student housing, and the rooms reflected this, with bright green walls and functional furnishings— desk, chair, wardrobe, all made of plywood and sturdy plastic— with a bed shoved in the corner, up against the wall. 

Upon my arrival, I set up what few things I had, to make the room feel more homey: books and journal on a small shelf over the desk, art supplies and food in the two drawers underneath, clothes hung in the wardrobe. There was no laundry here. There wasn’t most places, which meant that when my clothes needed washing, I soaked them in the sink, for 30 minutes or more, whatever seemed reasonable. Then I’d take bar soap and scrub and wring and scrub and wring, until I had blisters on my hands. I hung my clothes to dry anywhere there was space: over the shower door, back of the office chair, suspended by black plastic hangers from the window ledge, the edge of the desk, and the door hinges. When they dried, they were always stiff and smelled funny, like damp and animal fat. Nothing ever really got clean, anyway, so I’d wear things as long as I could between washings, and put on clothes that had been drying overnight and were still damp.

I hoped and pined for sight of him every day— I’d almost managed to think about other things, and relegate him to a dark corner of my mind— but being so proximal once more turned me back into a desperate, lovesick idiot. Vague logic told me no man— certainly not a stranger I wasn’t likely to meet— could fix me. But my feelings had far outrun logic at this stage, and my mind spiraled in futile obsession.

My initial goal when I’d set out had been self-discovery. I’d realized in the months before I left that I didn’t know myself at all. What I liked, what I wanted, what made me feel what sort of way. I’d spent most of the past years just reacting to things, trying to avoid anything that caused me too much pain or anxiety which, as time went on, became just about everything. This fuzzy notion got chucked out the window pretty early on in my travels, in favor of guilty conformism. Never mind I’d been trying and failing to conform for most of my adult life. I was horribly lonely (I scarcely spoke to anyone my whole trip, except for transactional purposes), and I had all my family asking me to send updates and tell them all about my incredible travels. That was all the pressure I needed to abandon my integrity.

The good news was that I’d picked up reading again.

I walked into the Amnesty International bookshop and beelined immediately for the back wall, out of view of the store clerk, to avoid being noticed, watched, and asked that most horrifying of questions: “Can I help you find anything today?” As luck would have it, the clerk seemed even more hostile to social encounters than I, and disappeared in back, where she remained for most of my visit.

I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but my loneliness— and the lack of a television in my room— made me realize I needed someone else’s voice besides my own banging around inside my head. I wanted something to help illuminate my situation, but also nothing too threatening, as this whole trip had become a mindfuck of, “Why can’t you be like everyone else!?!” My initial search was guided solely by titles. What sounded intriguing? I pulled books out, admired their covers, read their dust jackets. I took my choices up to the counter: a movie magazine I’ve since recycled because I couldn’t be bothered to read it, and two books, The Minute Particular by E.G. Lee and Strange Meeting by Susan Hill. One was about a man’s spiritual journey and the other was about two men who befriend each other after being deployed during the first World War.

I started with Strange Meeting and was instantly hooked. I was back to the feeling I’d had when I read M.F.K. Fisher’s As They Were, which I’d gotten for myself as a Christmas present the year before. The way the words felt in my mouth as I silently shaped them was both rich and exciting. I was also happy to do more than stare helplessly at a blank page, or creep on his Instagram, or else look dully out the window and feel like shit. I hadn’t even gone that long without reading, but I suddenly understood its place in my life.

Besides reading (and shelling out three or four pounds every morning for a latte, since the room had no kettle and I refused to go without), I’d opened up to my sister about my feelings (after having DM’d him, like a fucking psychopath, trying to tank my dreams by making an irrevocable cock of myself). I’ve never been much of a sharer. I always felt uncomfortable telling my family what I was going through. Partially, I didn’t trust them, and partially, I just wanted to keep up the performance, only ever communicating when things were going well. I also tripled down on my commitment to becoming a musician (though I still wasn’t sure how to make it a reality).

There was also food to help me get through the days. At this point, exhausted as I was from traveling and my own incessant mental rhythms, I tried to release some of the pressure by letting myself stay inside most of the time. When I went out, it was to see a film, go on a walk, or buy something. Otherwise, it was for food. There were lots of interesting-sounding places nearby, as I was staying near the university campus, and the city centre was only a twenty minute walk. Up to then I’d been subsisting largely on digestive biscuits, cold beans, and some sort of produce— carrots, apples, grapes, or anything else that could keep without refrigeration. I was desperate for fresh, hot food. Ramen, tteokbokki (I’d been searching, unsuccessfully til now, for some that was as good as what I’d gotten in Utah), nachos, dumplings, ice cream.

When I finally got a plane back home, I cried, picturing the view from my window in the converted student accommodations. It was bleak, honestly: grass, a few young trees, a couple benches, and a covered bike rack that doubled as the smoking area. A green wire fence held back trees and nettles and overgrown weeds. Just beyond was a pitch, patches of bright green grass coming up through red-brown dirt. Still, I felt like I was losing something.

Partly it was fabricated fondness, a desperation for “anywhere but here”. But, too, it was nostalgia, having grown up watching Poirot and The Avengers, reading P.G. Wodehouse. Something about the people and the country felt more relatable than where I was from. I felt the need to visit every town and city, from Cornwall to Aberdeen, where artists and characters I loved had lived and worked. It’s flimsy reasoning for giving up your apartment and your job and hopping on a place. But as a person who’s dealt with anxiety and depression for a long time, I know to follow the excitement— however superficial and unfounded— wherever it takes you. Otherwise, you’d never fucking move.

[leggything]

My buddy and I had a bit of a friendly rivalry going on. We were both in the same cycling club and had made a bet on who could place higher throughout the summer racing season. I was leading by a few points by the penultimate race, I am the stronger cyclist after all, but I had tweaked my knee towards the end of the race and the club doctor insisted I end my season early. Of course my buddy, prick that he is, insisted that the last race would still count towards our bet, saying some shit about “cycling is about endurance,” like he wouldn’t be begging to call off the bet if I was still in the race.

Whatever. He could try to beat me but I wasn’t going to make it easy, and even if I couldn’t actually ride I wasn’t going to sit out the last race of the season altogether. See I had this bottle of solution gifted from a former partner that made it possible to merge someone with the clothing they were wearing. This person I was dating had a kink for being objectified, literally, and would use the solution to turn into my underwear or my workout gear. They forgot the solution at my place after spending last week as my socks and I figured they wouldn’t notice if a couple drops went missing.

So the night before the race I took my time doing PT exercises for my knee and slipped into the club lockers after the rest of the team went for dinner. My buddy forgot his lock as usual so I unlatched the locker to see his favourite racing kit hanging ready for tomorrow. I stripped out of my own clothes & stowed them in my locker and stood naked holding the black and red kit. Filling the eyedropper with solution I let three drops fall onto the crotch of the kit and quickly pulled it on before it started to dry. Feeling the pad pushing the damp fabric into my perineum sent a shiver through me and as I pulled the zipper up to my neck I felt an almost electric surge spark through the suit.

I had to act fast, I had seen how quickly the solution would act but I didn’t anticipate the euphoric effects of the process. All I wanted to do was rub my hands along the fabric of the suit as my body was sucked into its fibres but I had to focus. Stowing the bottle of solution into my locker I latched and locked it closed. Then, letting out an involuntary moan as every movement i made in the suit felt like the edge of orgasm, I squeezed my head and shoulders into my buddy’s locker and attempts to slip the arms of the hanger, with quite some difficulty, between the fabric of the suit and my shoulders. It was difficult to manager in the tight space but I was running out of time, the black fabric of the suit weaving it’s way down my arms as my fingers began to shrink away. Just in time I got the hanger secured and I felt myself swing back as my legs, which had been hanging outside the locker, disappeared into the suit. I expected to bang back into the wall of the locker but instead I swung lightly from the hanger, my body already hollowing out as the kit pulled it in. With what was left of my disappearing arm, I nudged the door closed and felt it latch shut, sealing me in darkness.

It was a bit of a head trip hanging from a hanger as a sentient piece of fabric but I tried to stay focused on the task ahead. My awareness had changed - I still had sight but my vision was slightly blurred and was distributed throughout the suit giving me wider awareness. I found that if I concentrated I could expand and contract my fibres slightly. Feeling my own fabric rub against itself caused a thrilling sensation to run through me and I couldn’t help thinking about how amazing it would feel to have my buddy’s body stretching me out and rubbing against me. I tried not to stay focused and not get lost in the fantasy, but what else is an empty cycling kit supposed to do in a dark locker but rub itself raw thinking about how it feels being worn.

The rest of the night stretched on but soon enough I heard the locker unlatch and felt a hand pull me off the hanger. I didn’t know what time it was but my buddy must have been running late because he wasted no time pulling me on and zipping me up. I almost lost my mind feeling his smooth thighs pulling me tight, my zipper holding me close against his torso and my pad caressing his— okay focus. I could see why my partner was into this, I might have to ask him to switch roles after I get him back his solution. But my buddy was taking his place with the team, I felt our teammates slapping his back as they traded words of encouragement, one of them tapped his ass affectionately and I felt my buddy’s cock chub up a bit against me. Filed that one away for a later razzing.

The gun went off and the team took off, my buddy jostling for a spot near the front of the peloton. I felt determination rippling through him, he would have to finish in the top two spots to gain enough points to win our bet so no room for missteps. But a misstep was exactly what I was hoping to create and, wrenching my attention away from how good my pad felt squished against him by the bike seat, I got to work. I focused every fibre of my being on squeezing his left thigh, trying to make him cramp. I held on for several minutes while his hamstrings pumped inside me as he snuck closer to the front of the race. No luck, the extra compression seemed, if anything, to help him pump harder. I tried to focus on his right shoulder instead, pulling tight around his shoulder blade and socket to tip him off balance but all I managed to do was to wedge myself tighter into his armpit. He was still pulling ahead, having broken out of the peloton and drafting the front group of four cyclists. I had to find some way to through him off before he climbed further.

Then I let my attention drift to the place I had been avoiding. His balls, nestled in my pad and his cock resting flaccid against my fabric. Just one blow to the testicles would be enough to take him out but I didn’t have that kind of control. I would have to be gentler. Instead of squeezing like I had with his muscles I gently tightened and loosened my fibres around him in a delicate massage. It worked immediately, his cock clubbing up slightly against my tight lycra.

It was strange how intimately I could feel his concentration break, his shoulder muscles tensing inside me as he realized with a mix of horror and perverted pleasure that he was starting to get hard. I loved how flustered I had made him and redoubled my efforts, squeezing myself rhythmically against his cockhead as it began to peek upwards and out from under my pad. I noticed with pleasure that he was starting to slip backwards and he did to, he tried to adjust his position on the seat to calm his growing distraction but the movement just threw off his cadence and gave me more opportunity to tease him. I was surprised how much I enjoyed feeling his muscles squirm against me, his cock twitching in protest and pleasure inside my fabric — not in a sexual way of course, I was just enjoying how hard I made him, I mean how hard I made the RACE for him.

Because of my distraction he was far behind the four leaders by the time we approached the straightaway into the finish, there was no way he would win the bet this way. But just as it seemed I had won I felt him stand up on his bike like he was climbing a mountain, pushing harder than he had the full race. It was obvious to me that he was trying to keep my padding from pushing into him and arousing him, but I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. As he surged up towards the leaders I flexed every fibre I had, pushing my pad against his perineum and cupping his balls, vibrating against the length of his cock but he kept surging, passing the fourth place cyclist and then the third with only 500 meters to go. I could feel his embarrassment soaking into me with his sweat as the cheering crowd watched him, fully erect inside me and standing upright on his bike where everyone could see. I pressed against him in every way I could as he pulled up aside the second place cyclist and buzzed over the finish line just a hair ahead.

I could feel his chest heaving with pride after the race as he gulped air and slapped the backs of his fellow cyclist. I could only feel disgust and disappointment as he reached down and touched my fabric, pushing his still hard cock down against his thigh in an attempt to hide it. But as he and the other medalists approached the podium, I saw one more opportunity to exact revenge. He may have won the bet but I wasn’t defeated yet.

As he climbed to the second place position I went full tilt on him again: rubbing myself against his nipples and massaging the length of his beautiful cock, I mean his pathetic cock, right. He let out an audible grunt of surprise and jerked his hips forward involuntarily, causing the other medalists to look over in confusion. I felt his ass clench as I pushed my pad up against his hole, trying to hit every erogenous zone. I knew he would be exhausted from all the edging during the race and it wouldn’t be long before he gave into me. Sure enough, just as he reached his hands cautiously away from covering his crotch to take the medal being presented to him I gave his cockhead one last rubbing and he gasped aloud, involuntarily lurching forward and grabbing the shoulder of the presenter to steady himself as a visible wet spot bloomed through my tight fabric to the shock of the presenters, medalists, and gathered crowd. Mission accomplished.

“What the fuck just happened?” I heard him think

“Oh my god he completely soaked me, I can even taste his cum.” I thought

“Wait, I recognize that voice,” I heard him think again, “who is that?”

“Wait, he can hear me think? How does that work?”

“Oh my god it’s you!” He thought, “couldn’t just accept defeat so you used inanimation solution to try to stop me from winning our bet. How pathetic.”

“Hey, I’m not the one standing in front of a crowd of people with cum leaking through your suit. How do you know about the solution anyway?”

“I’m not the one who turned into fabric just to jerk off their rival, you could have just asked. And as far as the solution, I’ve played around with it — obviously you haven’t or you’d know that either party coming to orgasm forges a telepathic connection between clothing and wearer.”

“You kinky bastard, when this solution wears off I’m going to beat your ass. Bet’s off man!”

“Sure maybe I’m a bit kinky, but it seems you might be as well. And as far as the solution wearing off, you won’t turn back until you’re off someone’s body for at least an hour - and I don’t plan on taking you off any time soon. In fact, maybe I’ll spill a couple more loads into you before I rinse you off in the shower.”

With that I fell silent and he stepped off the podium, embarrassed yes, but vindicated as well. And when I saw the open mouthed stares ogling my cum-soaked fabric, it felt like their looks of disgust were directed, not at him, but at me.

Many thanks to @fullgear1215 for the story idea and for the photos 😇

[unsupervisedpanda]

Embry Call x Reader

Be more

Huffing you yanked the tarp back over the old truck. You'd been working on it for over 4 months now with your cousin, Jacob Black. Of course that was Pre-Bella. At least that's what you called it. From before.

Now you're working on it by yourself. Or trying to. You couldn't understand it without your other half. It was like doing calculus without math. It didn't work.

Looking out to the sky you huffed again. It looked like rain. And soon. Walking back towards the house you walked into the red building, shrugging your jacket off.

"Hey Billy, you need anything while I'm up?" You called hanging the clothing up on the coat hanger.

"Nope. Jake isn't in here before you ask." He said rolling into the kitchen.

"I'd assumed that much already, Billy." You said before you heard a car door slam.

Peeking out the window you saw Bella storming towards the back. It had already begun to pour. Your eyes widened as you grabbed your jacket back up again.

"I'll be back." You promised closing the door behind you.

Running after Bella you slowed down when you saw her pleading with Jacob about something. You couldn't make out what she was saying. You could see the strain on Jacob's face and it only got stronger when he saw you jogging up behind Bella.

"Jake? Bella? Is everything okay?" You asked tucking your hands under your arms.

"Y/n go home." Jacob ordered, his voice cold.

"Yeah y/n. Go home. I need to talk to Jacob. Alone." Bella snapped never taking her eyes off of him.

"That's not an answer." You met his gaze and felt yourself falter.

"Just leave. This isn't about you." Bella muttered.

You were glad for the rain. It kept your tears from showing.

"Jake?" You asked but he just shook his head.

"Go home. Both of you." He growled walking away again.

Bella yelled after him but you just took a shaky breath in and turned around. You expected to just walk back into the house but Bella grabbed you by the shoulder whipping you to face her.

"What happened to him!" She yelled at you but you shook your head.

"I don't know Bella. I thought you happened." You snapped shrugging her off.

"I think it's best if you go home." You murmured pulling your hood up.

"Fine. Thanks for the help!" She hissed pushing you on her way to her truck.

Your lip trembled as she drove away and your eyes watered when you turned to see Jacob walking away, too.

You were alone. Your best friend had walked away from you. Screaming in frustration you stormed back to the house. To the driveway where your car sat. Billy opened the door, rolling out.

"Y/n where are you-" he stopped. "Are you okay?" His voice took a tone of concern but you just kept walking. You were pissed off and didn't want to take it out on him. You pulled your keys out unlocking the vehicle.

"Y/n! I don't think you should be driving." He called loudly but you ignored him.

Pulling open the driver's side door you slid in, slamming the door closed. Pushing the key into the ignition you started the car. Or tried to. It wouldn't turn over. Punching the steering wheel you screamed. Hitting the horn you screamed over it, again and again. You were so angry. So hurt.

You only stopped when your throat was too sore to scream anymore. Breathing heavily you heard a knock on your window.

"Go away." You sobbed, the emotions catching up.

"Sorry. Can't do that." A muffled voice said through the foggy glass.

Lifting your head up you saw Billy sitting there in his wheelchair. You felt terrible that he rolled out into the rain like this.

"Billy..." You started but just pulled the keys out of the ignition and waved at him to roll out of the way.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked after you stepped out of the car.

"I don't know. I'm sorry about," you gestured wildly, "this. I should've just come inside." You groaned.

He shook his head dismissing your apology.

"You're fine, kid. Let's just get inside." He said as he went to roll back to the porch but you smacked his hands away from the wheels.

"I got you." You scolded as you began to push him back to the house.

"Snippy." He laughed but didn't wave you off.

You nodded as you reached forward to open the door.

"You mind if I crash in Jakes room?" You asked after setting the man up on the couch and washing off the wheels of his chair.

"Not at all. You need to rest after crying like that. Take a bottle of water with you. You'll need it." He recommended nodding to the kitchen.

"Thank you, Uncle Billy." You sighed kissing his forehead.

Grabbing the water you walked into the bedroom. It was small but comfortable. Setting the bottle down you flopped into the bed after kicking your shoes off. Curling up you hugged a pillow to your chest sniffling softly. Your eyes were heavy as you breathed out softly. Closing them you fell asleep quickly.

You roused to the sound of shuffling outside the bedroom. Some things clanked around and there were soft whispers outside.

"Jacob what the hell happened?" Billy whispered harshly.

"Nothing dad butt out!" Jacob snapped back.

"I'm not going to butt out! Something happened." Billy replied his voice calm.

"Nothing happened!" Jacob exclaimed loudly.

"Guys-" a new voice began and you began to wake up more.

"Stay out of it Embry!" Jacob snarled.

"Dude he's just trying to help." Another voice.

Groaning a little you yawned as you opened your eyes. Pulling the blanket off and shoving the pillow away you slid off of the mattress. The floor was cold as you shuffled around looking for a dry, new shirt. Digging around the bedroom you found a long sleeved black shirt.

Tugging your slept-in shirt off, you threw it on the bed before pulling your cousins shirt over your head. Scouring the room you found his old hair brush. From before he cut his hair. Sighing you grabbed it tugging it through.

You could still hear the males arguing as you slid out of the room.

"It's not my fault Bella came here!" Jacob was growling.

"No but how you handled it was terrible. She did something to make y/n act like that." Billy persisted.

Walking in you knocked on the wall next to you. Four heads turned to face you and you waved shyly.

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt but I'm starving. Could we talk like civil people while I make pancakes or something?" You whispered tucking your hair behind your ear, not able to look any of them in the eye.

"You look crappy." Jacob snickered and you glared up at him.

Then you smiled, walked over to him, and punched in the chest.

Crack!

"Holy shit! Ow." You whined inspecting your red knuckles.

"I didn't even hit you that hard." You pouted, shaking your hand as if to shake the pain off.

"Jesus. You weren't supposed to hit me!" Jacob groaned walking closer to check your hand himself.

"Yeah well you deserved it. You've been a jerk." You affirmed.

"Right. Well Embry, Quil, this is my cousin, y/n. Y/n these two idiots are my friends, Embry and Quil." Jacob introduced.

Glancing up you noticed how much bigger they seemed up close.

"Hi." You greeted putting your hand out.

Quil held out a hand and shook it with yours and you were shocked by just how hot it was. When Embry didn't respond you looked up at him only for him to fall to his knee.

"Oh my god are you okay!?" You fretted getting on your knees in front of him.

He didn't answer, instead he focused on his breathing. He didn't expect this to happen. Not so soon. Not ever really.

"Embry? Right? Are you alright?" You said softer this time putting your hands on his face.

You looked his face over before moving your hands to examine the rest of him. Your fingers grazed his skin lightly as you tried to find any reason for him to fall like he did.

"Embry?" Jacob growled behind you.

Finally looking up Embry met his gaze. His eyes were wide.

"Are you okay?" You asked again turning his face to yours.

"I'm... I'm great." He laughed huskily.

"Okay...?" You sounded unsure but stood up, brushing your jeans off.

Holding your hand out you offered it to him, and raised your brows when he actually took it.

"Wow." He breathed when he was standing beside you.

"What?" You asked looking at him but then noticed Jacob and Quil and Billy.

"Guys?" You tried again and Jacob snapped.

"My cousin!? Are you serious! My sister was bad enough but my cousin!" He groaned throwing his hands up.

Quil had wide eyes and Billy looked like he was either going to shoot Embry or hug him. You couldn't tell.

"Care to elaborate?" You glanced at the boy next to you.

"Depends on if I live that long!" He yelped when Jacob jumped at him.

"OH MY GOD NOT IN THE HOUSE!" You shrieked throwing your hands up.

"Not in the house damn it!" You growled again grabbing Jacob by the ear and Embry by the hair.

"Come on!" You huffed.

"Quil! Get the damn door." You demanded. The boy did so with no complaint.

When the door was opened you threw both boys out into the yard.

"You want to rough house? Fine! Just not in the house!" You exclaimed, exasperated.

"I'm going to kill you!" Jacob hollered at Embry pushing him.

"Wait! We both know I can't -OW- control it!" Embry yelped again.

"Wait! Jacob!" You screamed and then FWOOSH! big dog. Very. Big. Dog.

"Holy shit." You whispered before jumping into the yard and running towards Embry who was still on the ground.

"Stay back!" He yelled at you his eyes wild.

"But he-" you started but stopped when Embry began to strip.

Looking away you heard bones shifting, and when you looked back, another wolf stood where Embry once did. You went to walk towards him but the reddish one, the one who you now assumed was Jacob, stood in front you.

"Jacob." You gritted out.

The wolf refused to budge.

"Damn it. Stop being such a bitch." You snapped smacking him.

"You don't get to be all cousinly now. You left." You shoved him again.

"I don't care how big your teeth are or how big you are. I will snap your legs, then your arms, then I will break every rib, and finally I will move on to your fingers and toes. Don't test me." You growled yanking on his fluffy ear.

Then you shoved him away and tried walking to the Embry wolf again. However Jacob still refused to move.

"Y'know what that's it." You snapped.

Dropping to your knees you crawled under him and sprinted to the grey wolf. You didn't expect Jacob to be snipping at your heels when you did this though. You swore you could hear him curse at you.

Another thing you didn't expect was for Embry to run past you and meet Jacob half way. They nipped and bit at each other.

"Guys stop!" You screamed trying to get in between only to be grabbed from behind.

You yelped as the warm arm grabbed you. Glancing down you noticed that whoever grabbed you was well toned and tan.

"You can't get in between them, y/n." The voice spoke and you felt tears well into your eyes.

"But they-" you cried.

You tried to push the hands off but they held fast.

"Stop them, Quil!" You yelled at the boy who still stood on the porch. He glanced behind you and shook his head.

"God damn it! Stop!" Your voice cracked as you shrieked.

Both wolves stopped mid fight scrambling to right themselves. Jacob snuffed and Embry bit him in the rear leg.

"Stop it." You sobbed as you collapsed in the arms of whoever held you. "Just stop fighting."

Both wolves glanced at each other before the grey one stepped forward. His muzzle was soft as he licked your tears away. Sniffling you wrapped your arms around his big head and sobbed into his fur.

Whoever held you let you go, stepping back. The wolf stayed waiting for you to let go of him patiently. The red one harrumphed before slinking into the woods, probably to change.

When your crying slowed you gingerly let go of Embry.

"I'm so sorry for crying on you, on your fur, oh I'm so gross. Talk about first impressions." You choked on more tears as they started again but the wolf head butted you softly.

"I know. I know. Just, go change back." You smiled softly.

The wolf didn't seem convinced but listened. Jake walked over to you to offer you a hand up, but you smacked him away.

"Leave me alone you jerk." You pouted.

He gave you a look, clearly torn.

"Y/n," he started and you glared at him.

"What? You think you have the right to be all protective? You left me in the rain with, Bella. You left me to deal with her." You spit.

He went to reply but Embry came sprinting out of the woods towards you. He slowed down when he saw Jacob though.

"Jake?" He asked, a silent question.

"No harm, no foul." Jacob smirked at him and you punched him in the leg.

"Ow!" He yelped glaring at you.

"Go away." You huffed.

"No." He glowered.

"Fine." You glanced at him before looking at Embry.

"Again so sorry for crying on you." You apologized.

The boy smiled at you before walking over to you, offering his hand. Taking it, you smiled up at him as he pulled you up.

"You know your first impression was better than mine. I fell to your feet like the dog I am." He chuckled and you snorted.

"I guess you're right." You laughed.

"So you going to tell me what that was all about?" You asked.

He suddenly got sheepish again.

"Can I talk to you alone about that? Preferably."

Glancing around you saw Billy going inside with Quil and a few other boys. Minus Jacob.

"Yeah. I'm not fond of Jake here listening in anyway." You grinned at Jacob before grabbing Embry's hand and pulling him into the woods after you.

"Okay. Go ahead." You nodded at him to explain.

"Well y'know how we just like wolfed out in front of you?" He asked and you nodded at him.

"Well uh that's part of this thing that happens to some of us. And uhm when we y'know shift we get this partner. A for life kind of thing. It's like- I guess most people would say it's like a soulmate. Of course nothing romantic has to come from it!" He panicked blushing.

"It could be friends or best friends or just basically whatever that person wants. We call it imprinting." He explained still flushing.

You nodded and then pointed at yourself.

"Are you saying I'm like your imprintee? You giggled.

He nodded shyly.

"Yeah. You are. Of course it doesn't have to be romantic or anything. Like at all. I'll be whatever you want!" He gazed into your eyes intently and you smiled.

"Okay. Whatever I want huh? So I could have a big fluffy dog then?" Your eyes glimmered and he laughed loudly.

"I mean yeah I guess so." He smiled softly.

"Alright Embry. Let's say I want you to be more than a friend. More than a best friend, too. What if I wanted you all to myself?" You tilted your head at him.

He smiled. "Then I'm all yours."

"Okay then Embry. Let's be more." You smiled pulling him to you and hugging him.

You could hear him chuckle as he held you to his chest.

"You're like really hot." You murmured as he stroked your hair.

"Thanks. I thought so too." Gasping you backed up and swatted his bare chest.

"I meant like physically? Not appearance wise! Wait no! You're really attractive. Oh my god!" You rambled tucking your heating face into your hands.

"Wow. You okay?" He asked brushing your hair back.

"Just give me a minute." You sighed before looking at him.

His eyes twinkled kindly. His hair fell into his eyes softly and his lips were pink. Flushing you lifted your hands to his face and pulled him down.

You met his lips softly at first. Barely touching. He seemed unsure and didn't want to force anything. Slowly you kissed him again this time longer. He tasted like blueberry muffins. You smiled at that.

Then you felt it. Like clay you molded to him. It felt like everything clicked into place. This whole time you'd been waiting for him. He was your other half.

Kissing him again, this time passionately, heatedly, you poured everything into it.

He stepped back in surprise before kissing you back, similarly. You could feel the feelings seep into your lips.

Smiling you backed away.

"Wow." You whispered.

He nodded slightly winded.

"You're a great kisser." You sighed looking at him through your lashes.

"I think that was all you. I'm sure my heart is trying to beat out of my chest." He laughed his hand against his left side.

"Fair enough." You smiled at him reaching for his hand.

"Okay so, are we going to do this?" You asked pulling his hand up to cup your face.

"Yeah. If you want to of course." He murmured stepping closer his other hand going to your waist.

"I do. I really do." You laughed pecking his lips again.

"Then let's be more." He murmured against your lips.

[petri808]

If you're open for nalu requests, can you write a smut fic where nalu goes to a lingerie store because lucy wants to try on some lingerie and natsu ends up getting aroused? But if you can't it's fine just ignore this ask😊

Hi Nony, this is the last request I’ll do. Decided to save this for @thenaluarchive Sinfully Nalu event Mirror prompt. What did Lucy expect by dragging Natsu lingerie shopping?

“I’ve just got one more stop to make.” Lucy pointed towards the other side of the mall.

“Ugh…” Natsu’s shoulders dropped, “but we’ve been here for 2 hours already, Lucy, and I’m getting hungry.”

“I’ll spring for lunch. Anything you want.”

“I’m holding you to it,” he grumbled, but allowed her to pull him forward.

Natsu knew the mall well enough to know that the section they were heading towards were mostly women’s clothing stores— definitely not where he wanted to be. All these fancy clothes, and accessories, and… stuff that his girlfriend loved to wear. Sure, he didn’t complain cause it made her happy, he just didn’t wanna shop for it. Forever twenty something, Cache or Channel— whatever, “oh, uh-uh, no way,” he jerked them to a halt. “I ain’t going in there.”

“It’s just Victoria’s Secret.”

“Well Victoria can keep her secret. Lucy you’re crazy if you think I’m going in a women’s lingerie store!”

Lucy turned to face, then grabbed both of Natsu’s hands, holding them together close to her chest. “Please,” her eyes begged. “I need you to tell me what you think will be nice on me.”

Thinking about his girl, in lingerie, while standing in a mall was *not* the image Natsu wanted conjuring in his mind. But between the soft, puppy-dog expression, and her whimpering pleading— he was powerless to turn Lucy down. He sighed with a whine. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay!” She giggled, kissed his cheek, and took his hand again, entwining their fingers together. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Yeah, uh-huh, right… Painless.

As they walked down the rows and racks of lingerie, Natsu hummed in his head as a distraction. Bras, panties. Low cut, high cut, thongs, g-strings. Sets, individual pieces. Lace, satin, cotton. So many choices! He let the colors blend in his vision, the scents of brand-new clothing mixed with perfumes sold, or miscellaneous accessories. How do women pick anything when there’s so many options? Give him a t-shirt and jeans and he was good to go.

Every so many picks, Lucy would ask his opinion. ‘Yeah, that’s nice. No, that looks itchy. I like that color. Eww, it doesn’t match you.’ Finding her size in the styles she wanted wasn’t always easy, but after 30 minutes, Lucy had half a dozen or so items to try on. So, they head towards the fitting rooms.

Natsu stopped in front of the doors, and readied himself to stand around and wait—

“You’re coming in with me.” Lucy tugged on his hand. “I need your final opinion.”

Up until now, Natsu had managed to avoid thinking about anything even remotely related to sex, but now?! “Uh-uh, no way!”

“Please…” Lucy turned on the pouty lip-action and puppy-dog eyes again. “It’s not like you won’t see me in them later.”

Natsu gulped hard as the naughty images were unlocked. “Are you trying to kill me in public?”

“Pfft, no,” she giggled. “Stop exaggerating this.”

‘You have no idea, woman…’ “Alright, fine. But don’t blame me if anything happens in there.” Because if the twitch in his pants and slight bulge growing was any indication, it wouldn’t be what she’d be expecting.

“Tch.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Natsu, you’ll see.”

The dressing room was a lot more spacious than he was used to seeing. Men’s fitting rooms, at least the ones he’s been in are like closets with just one full length mirror, and maybe a small bench inside. This one could easily fit them both, with wrap around mirrors to catch every angle. It had a small, cushioned bench along one wall, and a couple of hooks on the inside of the door. But most noteworthy was the fact it was a fully enclosed room— not those partial-length doors at lower-quality stores. It was very, very private.

Natsu sat down on the bench and closed his eyes while Lucy fiddled with her options. He could hear the plastic and metal hangers going up on the hooks, as well as the sounds of his girlfriend shedding her clothing. His mouth suddenly felt dry… Lucy’s voluptuous body bared for him to see with only her regular panties left on— he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. ‘Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!’

“Ready— Natsu, silly,” Lucy giggled. “How are you gonna tell me if it’s good or not if you can’t see?”

“No.”

Lucy threaded her fingers gingerly through his hair. “Just one peak…”

‘Fuck…’ he groaned as the tightening in his shorts grew uncomfortable. “One peak.”

Natsu opened his eyes and immediately slammed them shut again from the screaming bra and panties glued to her frame. A sheer red with solid fabric only over the nipples and a strip covering her crotch. So much flesh revealed in these outfits, was there even a point to wearing anything at all?

“Great!” His voice squeaked out. “Looks fine.”

Her giggles only added to his demise. The sounds of more fabric rustling, and the twitch in his shorts… Natsu shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t. Lucy had grabbed about six of seven different pieces to try, and this was only the beginning. She was too damn sexy, and he swore, derived pleasure out of torturing him like this! Ugh, his cock was so hard right now…

“Okay, next piece,” Natsu heard her say. “I’m not sure about it, cause the color doesn’t seem to look good on me.”

Tch, it could be multi-colored polka dots and Lucy would still be a man’s wet dream. He cracked open one eye. It was a dark green, combo with frilled lace along the waistband. Natsu gulped hard as she did a turn around to reveal a thong and curvy swell of her backside.

“You do realize I’m biased, right?” Natsu blurted out. “Everything looks good on you to me.”

“Awww,” Lucy bent down and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I still think I’ll add this to the maybe pile,” she spoke as she started removing the pieces. “I think you’ll really like the next one I found; it has these cute flames on them.”

“You know what I’d prefer to see?” Natsu questioned, for he was done holding back.

Lucy stopped mid-way, bent slightly over with the thong down to her thighs. “What?”

Without answering her, Natsu got off the bench and started helping her take the thong off.

“Natsu, what are you—”

Once off, he moved onto her regular panties down.

“Nat— s-stop!” Lucy grabbed for his hands, but she couldn’t do much without twisting or tripping. “What are you do—”

“Keep your voice down.” He tugged those off too leaving her exposed from the waist down.

“Natsu this isn’t funny!” She seethed in an exasperated whisper.

“Neither is this,” he gestured at the bulge in his shorts. Guiding her against the mirrored wall as he spoke. “You said I could choose whatever I wanted for lunch, and I’ve decided to put you on the menu.”

Lucy whimpered when she felt the cold mirror against her bare skin. “But we’re in public.”

“I warned you didn’t I…” Natsu leaned in with a whisper, cheek to cheek. “Then I suggest you not make any noise,” his words wisp out, warm breath fanning down the barren skin as his lips burn a trail over her neck. Lucy dug her fingers into his hair, holding on but not stopping him as he moved lower.

His stops were brief, lips ghosting burning marks along her chest, a mountainous journey over the pillowy bosoms, a few licks against the pert nipples, and lower… down … snaking over her torso to what he was truly after. “Breathe, baby,” Natsu teased at her halted, bated breathing. “Just look forward and watch.”

She sucked in a gulp of air and stared forward at the mirrored image of Natsu going down on her. It was strange to literally watch every move he made like a voyeur living through another’s body. Lucy’s fingers tightened their grip on his hair in anticipation as he spread her legs a little wider…

“Mmm,” he mused in thought on how to get the best angle. “Hold to me,” Natsu suggested, and before she could reply, lifted Lucy’s left leg, and rested it on his shoulder. “Perfect…”

Natsu dove right in, latching his mouth onto the moist folds he knew so well, humming at the quick squeak his girl couldn’t catch in time. But he knew from the pull on his scalp exactly what she was experiencing. He kept one hand on her raised hip, while the fingers of his other toyed around the edge of her wet opening. His tongue pressed and circled around her clit, sucking, palpating, interspersed with soothing flicks and long strokes to lap up the growing sap gathering in the area. He closed his eyes as he relished in the warmth oozing over his face from her beautiful sex.

Heaven help her, Lucy couldn’t stop staring at that mirror… her gripped fingers to his hair and nails digging into his shoulder for dear life from the seasoned oral ministrations that slowly undid her sanity. Just his tongue alone… but the teasing fingers… Oh! Oh— Her thighs clenched to the sides of Natsu’s head as she felt one, then two fingers slipped through her walls. Lucy’s body arched slightly, and head tilted back as those fingers began swiftly pumping.

“Natsu…” Lucy moaned softly through sealed lips. She could feel his grin against her flesh, hear the squishing sounds, and smell the light scent of her extreme arousal. Damn him…

In a race against time, Natsu pumped fast and hard while his mouth and tongue devoured Lucy’s sex and sanity with an intensity to rival any known battle for supremacy. Each passing second, drawing the heated coil at her core closer to snapping. Her legs trembled, yet clenched and stiffened as his fingers pummeled, bumping the swollen sex being driven to his knuckles reach. He could feel Lucy start unraveling and held firmly to her hip bone as the jerky spasms rocked her body in orgasmic euphoria.

“Stop, stop, stop—” Lucy clawed at his back and neck as she whimpered from the immense pressure boiling in her body, and radiant moisture pooled in her eyes. “Please… enough, Natsu my legs are gonna give out.”

After giving her pussy a few more licks to clean up the excess juices, Natsu finally obliged and put down Lucy’s leg, then stood up while still supporting her as she caught her breath. He licked around his lips and cleaned off his fingers. “Best lunch in the world,” he grinned.

“Oof!” Lucy playfully slapped his chest with a short laugh. “Not what I’d meant. And now I don’t have time to try on the rest.”

“Why not?”

Lucy started putting on her regular clothes. “We’ve been in here for too long, it’ll be suspicious.”

“Tch, then just buy all of it if you like them, cause I’m telling you they’ll all look great on you.”

She glared at him. “Fine, but after pulling that stunt, now you owe me lunch!”

Natsu shrugged and grabbed all the hangers of clothing. “Okay, since you’ll need your strength later.”

“Later?”

The widest seedy grin bloomed on Natsu’s face. “You’ll see…”

[twinklelilstarkey]

Can I Maybe request a fight with mtkachuk but ends happy???

A/N: Of course. Hope you like it!

You and Matt had a fight. It honestly didn’t come as a surprise. The both of you were in a bad mood the whole day and all you wanted to do was stay home and be alone. And, well, that didn't happen. All because of your plans.

You had planned, weeks prior, with your friends to go have a big evening and dinner out together. The plan was purely for the enjoyment of everyone. It didn’t require a lot of moving or walking around or even driving, so, no complaining about that. It was just a big hang out in someone’s backyard, a late lunch while you talk about life, and, eventually, late at night, a drive to a restaurant to end the day and have the last group meal.

Again, it was supposed to be something light-hearted, but it didn’t take long for Matthew to get under your skin.

Even though the bad mood was from the both of you, he didn’t even care enough to fake a smile when to greet people. Oh, and you were pissed.

You sat beside him during the whole afternoon while he scrolled through his phone and ignored most conversation starters. You tried to overcompensate and be double as social as you normally are because of it.

By the time you got to dinner, it was safe to say: you were exhausted.

And Matthew? His phone had just died so he had nothing to do but actually talk to people. Your friends were nice enough to welcome the moody man into their group conversations but no matter how many pokes you gave his side or pinches on his arm, he just didn’t seem to understand what you wanted. Which was, of course, to be slightly nicer with everyone.

The drive home was complete hell. The first few minutes were just silent, yet as soon as you get to the first red light, a simple unnecessary comment from him and you just snapped.

You two screamed at one another the whole drive, and scream after scream, it surely just ended with you just hurting one another more and more with each sentence.

You remember flashes of the last minutes before getting inside the apartment. You remember slamming the door of his car, sobbing your way through the lobby of the building, and closing yourself in your shared bedroom to cry in peace.

Matthew stayed in the car for a while longer, he ignored the shivers that ran through him when you slammed the door and he heard you sob over the loud thump. He then just stared at the grey wall in front of him in the parking lot.

Minutes passed and you still hadn’t heard the front door reopen, yet you didn’t go to check on Matt. You continued laying over the sheets of your bed, with your wet cheeks and tight chest, as you stared and sobbed at the doors of your wardrobe.

Matt had actually gotten in the apartment already, but he was so silent with the door that he believes not even a ghost heard him walk in.

He took off his shoes and winter jacket, hanging it by the door. He then dragged his feet from the wooden floors of his home and made his way to the bedroom door.

His hand laid over the door handle and he stopped his movements when he heard another soft sob from the other side of the door. He lifted his hand and took a step back, staring at the dark door in silence.

He made you cry and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Matthew closed his hand into a fist and let it fall to his side. He couldn’t just walk in there and act like what happened just didn’t. Right?

He brought his hand over his curls and brushed them back in frustration. His eyes drifted to the ground as he thought of a solution but nothing came to mind.

And with that, he decided to walk back to the other side of the house, to the living room, where he slept.

This morning, the first thing you did when you woke up was to quickly lay your hand over the opposite side of the bed. Cold. Your eyes opened slowly over the bright sunlight and you let out a groan.

You had a headache that was completely out of this world, almost as if you were with a hungover. But guess that’s what crying until you fall asleep gets you.

You forced yourself out of bed and quickly changed into some comfortable clothes - some shorts and one of Matt’s old shirts.

Now, when you're washing your face, as you look at yourself in the mirror, you tense up.

You didn’t hear Matthew come home, yesterday.

You, in light speed, turn off the water and dry your face with the towel. You walk out of the bathroom and bedroom and start making your way down the hallway.

The house is silent. Too silent.

As you reach the front door, you eye the hanger by it. His jacket is there, and so are his shoes, right under it. His keys are in the little platter on top of the table right at the entrance.

He’s home.

A sudden feeling of relief washes over you and you decide to make your way to the living room. And that’s where you find him. Sleeping on his side over the large couch.

You take silent steps over to him and notice the soft scowl over his features. You also notice that he didn’t change clothes, he’s still in his jeans and hoodie. Probably not very comfortable.

No matter how mad and sad you were yesterday, you didn’t want him to sleep on the couch, or even not go into the bedroom to get clothes. This room is the coldest of the apartment and the couch is only good for short naps. You can’t even imagine how much his back will hurt when he wakes up.

You walk closer to him and decide to not fight off your wishes. You crouch next to the couch and eye Matt’s sleeping form. You raise your hand and brush his curls back, away from his forehead.

He shifts slightly at your sudden touch, yet you don’t pull away. Your fingers play with the shorter hair on the sides of his head and your fingers then move to caress his temple.

No matter how much he hurt you yesterday, you still love him. You guys have known each other for years, it’s not your first fight, so, it’s not as painful as one would imagine it. At least not on the next day.

Your gaze shifts over to his phone on the side table next to the couch. You reach for it, and, yeah, still no battery. Without taking a second to think, you stand up back on your feet and go over to the charger by the TV.

While you’re connecting it to the charger, a voice breaks the silence in the room.

“What time is it?”

You quickly stand back on your feet and turn to Matthew, who is still laying down but is squinting at the light in the room.

“It’s early.” You tell me, “Probably around 9.”

He nods to let you know that he heard you and you finally force yourself to walk over to him again. Matthew opens his eyes when you stand in front of the light that was attacking him and he stares up at you in silence for just a few seconds before lifting his hand up at you. You take it hesitatingly and he pulls you closer to him. To lay with him.

Matthew turns on his side to open some space for you between him and the couch and you finally do as told. You, carefully and slowly, step over his legs on top of the couch and take a seat before finally laying.

Your faces are close to one another. Your back is glued to the couch and your chest to practically touching Matt’s, yet you don’t hesitate to look up at him.

“When did you come home?” You ask, still with your hand in his.

“Right after you did.” He tells you and you frown a bit, “I was just quiet.”

You nod understandably and feel him start to move his hand on yours. For a second you expect him to pull his hand away, but he does the opposite, he intertwines your fingers with his before letting your hands fall between you two.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.” He breaks the silence. “I was an ass and you didn’t deserve that.”

You give him a small smile and a little shake with your head as if to dismiss whatever had happened yesterday.

“I should’ve apologized right away, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” He says it again.

“I forgive you, Matty. Don’t worry about it.” You tell him with a soft tone.

“I have to worry.” He tells you, “You were crying, Y/N. I said so much stupid shit. To you and your friends.”

You let go of his hand and lay yours over his cheek.

“You’re forgiven.” You tell him while looking into his worried eyes, “Just- just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” He tells you, “I promise. I’m never going to be that much of an ass ever again.”

You smile at him and look down at his lips.

You can tell just by the look he’s giving you that he’s still beating himself for it, probably feeling like his apology wasn’t good enough. He has reacted like that before, in smaller arguments, and did end up apologizing to you for more than a week straight - even though you forgave him on the second day.

Sure, his apology is not the long romantic one that leaves a girl swooning at how good he is with words or makes a heart melt, but it’s good enough for you. For all the years you’ve known him, you can tell when he’s apologizing because he needs to and when he wants to. It’s all in his tone and his expression.

He means what he says, even though it’s not much. And just in case you still have a little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you forgave him too quickly, don’t you worry, because he is not done. Expect a minimum of 20 more “I’m sorry’s” just for the rest of the hour.

“Another thing.” You start and he nods quickly, “Please don’t ever sleep on this couch again. Just go sleep on the bed.”

“I didn’t want to make you more upse-”

“You wouldn’t.” You tell him, “Believe me.”

He nods understandingly and you finally land a kiss over his lips. It’s a simple peck, but it’s one that Matthew was dying to get. It relieves some of the pressure in his overthinking mind, and he felt right away. Even if it’s just temporary, it gives him some sort of comfort.

When you pull away and give him a soft grin, his eyes stare back at you lovingly.

“I love you.” He whispers at you. “I’m sorry.”

Your grin stretches into a smile and you give him a very quick kiss.

Here we go.

“Love you too, Matty.” You tell him.

Hope this is good!! I’m kinda worried that this is too rushed but sometimes I just really don’t know how to make it better.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)

Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.

Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee​ for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this! 

Wordcount: 3125

Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.

Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?

She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.

Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.

Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.

So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.

Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.

When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.

Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.

“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.

You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.

His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.

“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”

“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”

“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.

“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.

“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”

“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.

“Awesome!”

Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.

“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.

“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.

“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”

I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.

“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”

“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”

You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.

“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.

“Yeah, why?”

“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”

“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.

“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.

“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.

“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.

“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.

Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.

“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”

He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.

You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.

“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.

“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”

You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.

“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.

“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.

“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”

“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.

You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.

He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.

You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.

As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.

Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.

“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.

“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”

He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.

“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.

He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.

“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.

“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”

“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.

“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.

xxx

If you enjoyed this work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting please. Feedback gives life to us writers!

[pudimsuki]

Shoto Todoroki+Mall(fitting rooms?) +NSFW

Fitting rooms | Todoroki x reader

Warnings: NSFW (18+ content), public place.

Hmmm... Spicy? Spicy.

Your boyfriend was a peculiar man, as many would say.

Everyone always expected a lot from him, especially with the start of his hero career and the legacy left by his father. Yes, a hero of the people. Talented. Strong. Serious. Stoic, even.

What no one would have expected, of course, was to see him fuck his dear girlfriend inside a fitting room in the middle of a public mall.

It started innocently enough. All you wanted was a little help with a stuck zipper that was out of reach. Todoroki, as the good partner he was, quickly rose from his position on the waiting benches, ready to help you.

"I can't open it", you whispered as he entered the same cabin as you. He looked you up and down, modeled on the dress whose sales tag was still sticking out of the fabric.

“Beautiful.” He said. His intense gaze on you.

You smiled, knowing he never said anything he didn't mean. “Thank you, Sho. Maybe I should buy it then, hum?”

“Do it, I’ll pay. I want to take you out to dinner tonight, you should wear it.”

You wrapped an arm around his neck, fluttering your lashes at his heterochromatic eyes. "Yeah? Anywhere special?"

"You'll see. Now turn around." He commanded.

So you did, smiling at his conduct. He gently brushed your locks off your back, placing them over your bare shoulder and guided himself to the top of your zipper, which he slowly lowered, revealing your immaculate skin.

You were ready to turn around and thank him before you went back to change into your own clothes, but his hands held you in place, long fingers pressing into your hips.

Oh? You raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it.

You could feel his warm breath on your back at how close you were, but still you remained silent.

Slowly ー way slower than necessary if you ask ー, he traced the line of your spine, the cool fingertips of his right hand creating a contrast to his breathing, making you close your eyes and arch your back slightly at the sensation.

You could vaguely hear the conversation of people in the store and the noise of other people entering and exiting the changing rooms surrounding yours, but that was far from your attention.

He touched the straps of your dress, running them with sensual speed down your arms, until they went through your wrists and hands. You didn't wear a bra.

With eyes still closed, you felt his soft lips touching the back of your neck, kissing the spot gently.

"Sho?" You whisper.

"You're just so pretty, love." He muttered over your skin, making you sigh in glee. Todoroki gripped your shoulders with both hands and began to trace your back with his mouth.

"We're at the mall", you tried to reason, already losing yourself in the sensations he always caused you. "Let's go home."

"Can’t. Need you now."

In mere seconds, your outfit was on the floor, leaving you in nothing but lace panties. You looked to the side, where a full-length mirror graced the wall and could see how Shoto towered over your back, tall, strong, and fully clothed, making you look even more vulnerable almost completely naked, your pert breasts reflected sideways on the glass and your hands resting on the wall for support.

You felt a wet spot forming on your panties at the sight.

“You’re still clothed.”

“And?”

You swallowed, mumbling. “And it’s not fair.”

Shoto just chuckled behind you, face close to the curve of your neck. His hands traveled through your waist.

“I think I'm spoiling you too much. Don't worry, tonight you can see what you want. For now, this will be just an appetizer.”

“For who?” You grumbled sarcastically.

“For me, of course.” He simply replied, his voice a tone below normal. Suddenly he presses your hips against him, making it clear the tent in his pants. You purred in desire, making him laugh once more. "Although something tells me you'll enjoy it too."

“Sho, please…”

“Shh, I’ll take care of you. Now, be quiet or people will hear you.”

You closed your eyes as you felt him circle your clothed intimacy with his fingertips and just nodded, hearing some laughter from other customers chatting near the dressing room.

"Always so wet for me." He praised, close to your ear.

He released you for a brief moment and you heard the noise of his pants being unzipped. You were about to take off your own underwear, but he was quick to grab your wrists.

"Hands on the wall."

You swallowed, obeying his orders.

He then lowered your panties over your feet, pulling them off completely. Before you could do anything, he was wrapping his arms around your figure, holding you close. The tip of his cock touching your ass.

Your piece of lace was crumpled in one of his hands, which he brought to your face. The smell of your own arousal rose in your nostrils.

"Open your mouth."

"What?" You questioned incredulously.

"Open it." He repeated. You couldn't help but feel your folds even wetter from it. "I don't want anyone listening to you and interrupting us."

You parted your lips, feeling the fabric being shoved through your mouth and touching your wet muscle.

Is this just the appetizer? You thought to yourself, but couldn’t form any other notion before feeling him press your clit, letting a muffled moan escape your mouth.

“Sorry, honey. I can’t wait now.” With that, he pulled your hips up, setting you at a desired angle before slowly thrusting into your unprepared, but still wet, hole. Your cry was muffled by the fabric in your mouth and you arched your back even more to try to accommodate the full length of him inside you.

“So tight.” He breathed. He was going to take all the time in the world with you after dinner. But right now, all he needed was to feel your warm walls tighten around him. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

You just nod your head, eyelids pressed together. Just the feeling of him was making your legs weak.

“Shoto”, you tried to say, even with the panties stuffing your lips, but he understood the message right away, already starting his lunges at a fast pace, a complete contrast to his earlier slow touches.

You moaned, and you knew immediately that the idea of covering your mouth was appropriate, since you were pretty sure someone would have heard your lewd sounds if he hadn't done that.

Shoto just groaned in your ear, making you even more alight.

You ground your teeth into the fabric, your saliva soaking your panties. How would you use that later? You had no idea.

He returned to circling your clit, as fast and hard as his thrusts.

You sought support on the wall in front of you, gluing your forehead to the surface.

"Look at you," Shoto panted, eyes traveling between your bare back and the mirror beside you, unable to decide which view was more pleasing, "so pretty."

Within minutes, you soon felt the knot forming in your stomach. You tried to warn him, but all that came from your clothed mouth was reduced to muffled cries.

“I know, love.” He said, knowing your body language like the palm of his hands.

You gasp, throwing your head back when you feel your knot exploding outward. Todoroki grunts and you tighten around him, but he doesn't slow the pace of his thrusts, seeking his own release.

You feel your legs soften and you moan with the overstimulation. When he finally comes, you have one hand gripped on his arm, which circles your body, keeping you steady.

The two of you are silent for a few seconds, just your breath filling the cubicle. You internally prayed that no one had heard the sex noise coming from your cabin.

Shoto finally turned you to him, pulling the intimate piece out of your mouth right away and delighting in your expression, spittle running down your lips.

He bent down towards them before you could dry them and kissed you fondly, as if to make up for his earlier actions.

"How am I going to get out now?" You questioned with wide eyes, noticing the liquids from both of you trickling down your thighs. Your panties were equally wet. "I can't use this."

"Well, there's nothing to be done." He simply said.

"It's your fault!" You hissed, trying to keep your voice down. "And don't say that when you're still fully dressed."

"Technically," he commented after zipping up his pants, reaching for the dress you had tried on and watching you pull your own clothes off the hanger, "you called me here. So we're even."

Oh, if looks could kill. He thought and couldn't resist the smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"I'll pay for the dress. I'll meet you outside."

"What? No, wait! Don't just leave me he-"

Too late, he was already sneaking out of the cabin.

You just stood there, mouth open in disbelief.

Perhaps the society of heroes would lose one of its rising stars today.

Cause you would kill him.

That was fun, haha

Hope you like it! Thank you for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account @angie-1306]