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thebiscuitlabryinth · 1 month

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In the end, it doesn't matter. His plans, his intentions, his hopes, none of it matters.

In his dreams, it is disturbingly easy for Pure Vanilla to forget that the world is larger than the two of them, full of Cookies with their own plans and motives. In the careful cradle of his dreams, cocooned within Shadow Milk's constant presence, he hadn't even considered that there were other options.

Now, he is forced to confront them, and he can barely pay attention to anything. He isn't sure what happened in the first place, everything moving too quickly for him to process a thing. There is chaos everywhere, a flurry of colours and sounds and happenings whipping around him like a hurricane, the veil of darkness turning it all into a blur. The air is thrumming with unleashed archaic power, pricking his dough like pins and needles, and it all goes straight to his head, making him dizzy.

His grip on his staff is tight, leaning against it as he closes his eyes and borrows its gaze in the hopes of having a clearer view. It is just as indecipherable through his staff though, which means he isn't seeing things – the world really is coming apart at the seams, his nightmares unfurling before him.

And worst of all, Pure Vanilla is awake. He is wide, wide awake and cold with shock.

"There you are!"

Arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, the voice chiming delightedly in his ear. Pure Vanilla pulls away with a violent jerk of his body, not quite having the mind to be surprised that the arms let him, spinning around to face the other.

Shadow Milk stands, practically glowing with giddy joy, in a newly-crafted body of fresh dough, and it is strange to see him so solid. He stretches his arms above his head, leaning from side to side, before turning in a circle with a flourish, as if to show the body off.

"Wonderful, isn't it? And with this, Little Miss Guardian can't lock us back up again so easily! Certainly not with a dirty little trick like patching up some cracks." His voice is jovial, even as irritation flickers over his eyes at the memory of his encounter with White Lily. It disappears quickly, swallowed by tide of something that could almost be taken as childlike excitement. "Ah, it's so fun to have my own body again!"

It's the sort of happiness Pure Vanilla had hoped to see from him, but seeing it now, it just makes his heart ache fiercely, his chest seconds away from caving in. He is beautiful, a fact preserved even through the filter of his staff's eye, and everything is falling apart around him.

"What are you doing?" He asks, hardly more than a whisper, hardly able to manage those words anyway. It isn't the fact that Shadow Milk is out, physically here in front of him that makes him feel queasy. If it were only that, Pure Vanilla suspects he'd match him in his joy. It isn't even that he grabbed the first opportunity to escape, even if it wasn't following Pure Vanilla's plans for negotiation.

It is the upheaval sweeping around him, a complete lack of care for the surroundings and exactly as Shadow Milk was before, that is what hurts. Pure Vanilla had never lied when he said he believed in him.

"Celebrating, of course! This is my greatly anticipated grand return!" Shadow Milk announces cheerfully, taking an overdramatic bow before glancing at Pure Vanilla with a cheeky grin. His eyes glitter like stars, in that way that always mesmerises him. "Come on, Vani, dance with me!"

He reaches for both of Pure Vanilla's hands, not fazed by the fact that one is still holding his staff. He simply traps Pure Vanilla's hand between his and the staff as he pulls him towards him, using the momentum to whirl them around. Pure Vanilla stumbles, and without thinking, he scrambles to hold Shadow Milk back, his stomach and head churning uselessly.

It must show on his face, the horrible turbulance within him, because Shadow Milk's eyes all squint at him, some softly, others teasingly. He lets go of the hand not on his staff, instead wrapping his arm around Pure Vanilla's waist to offer him more stability. "What are you looking so gloomy for? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Not like this, you know that." Pure Vanilla whispers, his now free hand balling into a fist and falling weakly to rest against Shadow Milk's shoulder. His sadness leaks heavy into his tone, but he can't help it, can barely articulate himself. "I wanted you to be better."

Shadow Milk doesn't reply for a moment, still dragging him through the motions of a partner dance. He seems to realise Pure Vanilla isn't planning to open his eyes anytime soon, because his eyes slide over to make contact with him through his staff, his grin simmering down to a smile, still unbearably cheerful. "You didn't truly believe that would work, did you?"

It's a harmless question, in the grand scheme of things, in the whirlpool of everything happening around them, but it feels like a cracking punch to the stomach. Shadow Milk had seemed reluctant at first, but he had never outright refused his idea. By the end of it, he even seemed to be considering it seriously, but something said as bluntly as that must be his true feelings–

"So you lied to me." Pure Vanilla murmurs hollowly, the cracks in his heart filling with sticky disappointment, all towards himself. He can't bring himself to hate Shadow Milk for acting within his own nature, not when he should have known. "...Of course you did."

For the first time since he regained a physical form, Shadow Milk's smile drops completely, replaced with a fake pout. Though it seems lighthearted, the stars in his eyes spark with annoyance.

"I would never! How could you say such a terrible thing about me, after all we've been through?" Shadow Milk laments with exaggerated sorrow, throwing Pure Vanilla into an awkward twirl as his free hand rests against his own forehead like a hapless maiden. Pure Vanilla's brain seems to scramble at the sudden movement, barely gathering his bearings as Shadow Milk's arm returns to his waist. He thinks he may be sick.

"Remember, I said you could try your little plan out, not that I ever agreed to it." Shadow Milk reminds him in a low croon, lined with condescension. "I even told you I thought it was a stupid idea! I may be the Beast of Deceit, but I never directly lied to you. I'm a little hurt you assumed I did. I thought you knew me better than that!"

And Pure Vanilla can't muster a response to that, spirit growing soggier by the second, because it is true. His hope had led him into assumptions that were misguided, how can he blame Shadow Milk for that?

Somewhere in the background, there is the rumble of an explosion.

"You might have been able to convince me, you know." Shadow Milk adds with a gossamer thin smile, his voice growing more serious. "There was just one eensy-weensy problem with your argument."

Pure Vanilla trips over something behind him with a frazzled yelp, unconsiously gripping Shadow Milk's shoulder as his hat falls off, and Shadow Milk uses the momentum to lower him into a dip, bowing over him as he finally pauses their dance.

"You assumed that I need to be fixed," Shadow Milk spits the words through his teeth with a slight growl, curling his lip disdainfully as he pushes their faces far too close together, "but there's nothing to fix. We paid the price for having power the Witches' themselves gave us, all because of their cowardice and fickleness." He huffs, smiling with a lack of mirth. "Good punishments always teach a lesson, you say, but our punishment was unjust, decided on a whim. What lesson could it possibly teach?"

Pure Vanilla stares at him wordlessly, ears buzzing nervously. He feels vaguely like he is in freefall, his body tensing in anticipation of hitting the ground.

Instead, like a switch is flipped, Shadow Milk's stormy expression clears back into that pleasant merriment.

"But enough about all that," Shadow Milk says with faux politeness as he straightens up smoothly, jerking Pure Vanilla back onto his feet and sweeping him back into a circling dance, "now is the time for celebration! Relax!"

Shadow Milk draws Pure Vanilla even closer to him, almost pressing their bodies together, and Pure Vanilla, despite himself, is struck by the warmth of it. Shadow Milk has always been cold to the touch in his dreams but here, in this new body, he is too warm, radiating a heat that suggests getting too close will burn.

Shadow Milk hums a jaunty tune in his ear as they sway to and fro, and Pure Vanilla's darts his gaze around in an attempt to ground his thoughts. He must focus. He isn't sure where the others are – are the children safe? Where is White Lily? Shadow Milk isn't the only one who escaped, of that he is certain, so it is likely they are surrounded by danger on all sides, and that isn't even taking Dark Enchantress' forces into consideration. But if Shadow Milk is focused on him here, that is at least one less Beast for them to handle.

There you are, he had said when he found him. Shadow Milk had been seeking him out specifically, and surely not just for an innocent dance, so why—

Pure Vanilla glances down with sinking dread and realisation, jam turning cold.

"You're here for the Soul Jam, aren't you?" He murmurs, more to himself than Shadow Milk, but he must hear anyway, because his humming trails off. Pure Vanilla doesn't give him time to process the words though, yanking his staff up and suddenly there is light.

It is an extremely clumsy spell that misses by a mile – Pure Vanilla isn't awfully practised in offensive magic, and on top of that, his dough is shaking with too many emotions – but it does the trick. The bright flash startles Shadow Milk just enough for his grip to loosen, and Pure Vanilla wastes no time in scrambling back and away.

He gets a good few paces away before he is stopped by firm tug on his wrist, almost knocking him over. The beginning of real fear begins to well within him as he looks down to find himself caught by a dozen strings, shimmering like spun silk, all leading back to Shadow Milk's own hands as he approaches through the parting haze.

"I didn't know you had that in you. Bravo!" He laughs as he claps, seeming to be at ease, the attack doing nothing to dampen his mood. He comes to a stop nearby, wrapping the strings around his hand once, twice before pulling Pure Vanilla forward in a long, smooth motion that allows Shadow Milk to tuck his arm behind his back as he leans forward to meet him. "But to answer your question..."

Shadow Milk reaches up to grab the clasp that holds his Soul Jam as Pure Vanilla strains against the strings, knowing that despite any fondness he might have for him, he had never planned to let him have this. He braces for it to be ripped off, he braces for it to be gently pried away for him – he isn't sure which would be worse.

He does not brace for Shadow Milk to bend down and press a delicate kiss against its smooth surface.

"I'm here for the Soul Jam and you." He smirks against it, eyes flicking up from its sapphire shine to Pure Vanilla's stunned face, frozen in place. "That shouldn't be a surprise to you, after all our time spent together."

"You must be joking." Pure Vanilla chokes out before he can say any more, voice stuffy with conflicting emotions, gripping his staff so tightly he's distantly worried it may snap. His head is swimming, so much so that he worries he will faint, even though he's never been prone to it. "You don't mean that."

"I do." Shadow Milk replies with breezy confidence, his expression falling neutral as he straightens up just enough to press their foreheads together. It is not quite as impactful with Pure Vanilla seeing through his staff, but the contact between their dough still burns. "I like you. So, because I like you, I've come to collect everything."

Pure Vanilla is seeing through his staff, so he knows he is not imagining the solemn furrow of his brow, the slight pinch of his mouth, the lifetimes behind his eyes, the lifetimes he has fallen for. He is sure, almost instinctively, that he is telling the truth, and the mere thought makes his insides collapse into themselves like an agonising supernova.

"Please," he begs helplessly, strangely hoarse, abandoning his staff's eye and welcoming the darkness, unable to look anymore, "don't do this to me. It's–"

–cruel, but the word gets stuck in his throat. It is an accidental cruelty, and it hurts, hurts more than anything else, more than words can describe, even more than the all-encompassing ache of Dark Enchantress' first appearance, and the realisation that she shared White Lily's shadow. At least, then, Dark Enchantress was clear in her hatred, never allowing an opportunity for hope to fester. For all the pain that caused, the distance kept his head clearer.

But what is he meant to do now, knowing that Shadow Milk Cookie, for all he has done and will do, is sincere when he says he likes him? It is an irony that burdens him like a curse, but he almost wishes that it was a lie. It would be painful either way, but surely being tricked outright and mocked for it would be easier to cut clean from, to compartmentalise.

An ugly, painful sob rattles through his chest, and he bites down on it before it can leave his mouth, shoulders curling inwards like a wilting plant. Shadow Milk's arms loop around them, weighing them down further.

"Look at me." He calls, calm and low and stern, a professor's tone, and Pure Vanilla shudders with another swallowed sob.

"Look at me, Pure Vanilla." He repeats, a little louder, but it is the use of his name that catches his attention like a snare. Shadow Milk doesn't often use his proper name, not when it is just the two of them.

Pure Vanilla finally opens his own eyes, slowly and with difficulty, gummy with unshed tears and unable to make out anything beyond colourful shapes. Shadow Milk's face takes up his whole vision either way, and it makes his pain worsen. He can't look at him, not now, with everything that makes up Pure Vanilla jumbled into a mess and the world around them jumbled to match.

Surprising himself, Pure Vanilla sluggishly shifts to bury his face in Shadow Milk's shoulder, his shaking hands dropping his staff to clumsily grip his back in tight fistfuls. It surprises Shadow Milk too, judging by his slight jolt, but his arms tighten like a noose around his neck, pulling him close into a hug.

"You're awful." Pure Vanilla croaks, muffled and aching, squeezing his eyes shut again and soaking in the searing heat of the other, eating him alive.

Between them, the Virtue of Knowledge hums discordantly, its fractured pieces reunited at last. Shadow Milk chuckles, a sound Pure Vanilla feels rather than hears.

"If I'm awful," he says lightly, rocking them from side to side in a soothing rhythm, "then you must be too."

fin.

#sorry in advance guys. this one is An Experience!#unfortunately the things i'm good at are Torment and Emotions so here we are #also i wanted the ending to be ambigious because this was meant to focus on the relationship #rather than the surrounding. apocalypse. so you can imagine what happens next as whatever you want :)#shadowvanilla #pureshadow #vanilla milkshake #echo paradox au #the biscuit library

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paranormalactivity5 · 18 days

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♡Dirty laundry ♡

Warnings: PWP, Mdom/Fsub, oral sex (both receiving), spit, dacryphilia degrading, squirting, slapping, reader is bi/pan but it’s barely mentioned

A/N: I had to include the twd:towl reference because Daddy Rick and Mommy Michonne made me

WC: 2.5k

See gojo was usually an amazing husband, hot, funny, charismatic, and attentive, but of course, he has his faults, one of which being, he hates doing laundry, which pans out just amazing because you also hate doing laundry. You had a deal, you cooked and cleaned the bathrooms, he did dishes and laundry, now he was good at the first part, granted he never does it without a playful water fight, but he would still do everything to get out of doing laundry. when you realized that all the fancy late-night dinners after work and beautiful new clothes were distracting you, you had just got off early and decided to go home to cook satoru a nice dinner and you spilled some oil on your shirt so you went into your room to change, and then you saw it. I mean you had definitely seen your bedroom within the past week but the view was always crowded by lust or fatigue so you hadn’t saw it and when you did, you could have killed him. Clothes that had been thrown across the room on hot nights had not been picked up as you thought, just stuffed in a corner. He arrived home from work, immediately comforted by the smell of your cooking, but when he sees the look on your face he knows he’s been caught. Like he always does, he tried to talk his way out of it, which he is usually successful in, but not this time. When that failed he did the next best thing he could think of, he tried to use his body to get out of it, but oh was that a bad idea, because it gave you the perfect one. Just as he began to place open mouth kisses on your neck, muttering smooth apologies, it hit you, what could you do to truly make satoru gojo understand that you were serious? What would truly get it through his thick skull? Sex ban. When satoru heard that string of words leave your mouth he thought the world was going to end, don’t get me wrong satoru loves you for every part of you, your face, your mind, your soul, but he also really loved your body. He spent the next 3 hours doing every possible chore he could think of to no avail.

It had been 3 days since the ban started, and it wasn’t only affecting satoru, as much as you hate to admit it you need him just as bad as he needs you, and he knew that. He wasn’t gunna be the only one suffering throughout this ban he had decided, intentionally wearing as little as possible, sometimes opting for nothing, doing pull ups on the bar he installed a few months ago. It was now Sunday and you were ready to burst at the seam from built up tension, the premier episode of “The Ones Who Live” not helping, currently texting your best friend Karmen about how delicious Rick looked in that all black outfit and harness, your mind wandering to the image of satoru wearing those things. Just as the episode ended satoru walked into the room, he figured it was better to wait till your show was over. He dropped to his knees in front of your place on the couch. “Please my love, I’m sorry, I can’t take not touching you, not being inside you” He leaned in as he said the last part, you could feel his hot breath on your thigh. after a 3 day ban those words sounded like the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. The thing is, you were waiting for this moment, you had forgiven satoru the first night when he did every chore in the house, but you wanted to see him all worked up, you knew the pounding you would get when you finally gave in would make it all worth it. All your resolve crumbled immediately and you practically dove into him, teeth clashing in the roughness of the kiss, his hands gripped your waist, one reaching down to grab the swell of your legging clad ass and squeeze. Your hands rub the softness of his slightly grown out undercut, then they trail down the nape of his neck; it never failed to send electricity through his body, no matter how many times you did it

He dove forward, pushing you back onto the couch and crawling on top of you. The room filled with sounds of sloppy, needy kissing. His hand trailed down your body, making sure to take his time and show his love for your tits. He drug the tips of his fingers against your sides, sending shivers down your spine. Once his hand finally reached the hem of your leggings it stopped there for a second, and just the tips of his fingers broke past the hem and ran back and forth across your abdomen. Even when he was as worked up as he is, he would never miss a chance to tease you; you had a feeling there would be a lot of that as payback for putting him on this ban. He lead open mouthed kisses down your navel and onto the tops of your breasts.

He used his unoccupied hand to pull down the top of your tank top, which you of course had gone braless under. As your tits fell out his mouth immediately attached to your nipple “So beautiful baby. Fucin’ perfect” he mumbled, barely understandable with his mouth full of your tit. His other hand finally broke past the hem of your leggings and inched down till he reached your cunt, sopping with need for him. His long nimble fingers trailed light circles on your throbbing clit then dipping down to your weeping hole, and then back up, and then down, he continued this action for far too long in your opinion. Your head thrown back letting out whines and gasps “Please ‘toru….” you pathetically whine out. He releases his mouth from your nipple “Please what baby? Come on, you’re a good smart girl, and good smart girls use their words. So, what is it? Please what?” The sound of his voice when he says this makes you want him even more. So as embarrassing as it is, you comply. “You ‘toru…need you” you whine out, god if anyone heard this they’d think you were some pathetic slut; which, you were. Satorus pathetic slut. “Gunna have to be more specific honey…what do you want from me? Where do you want it?” He was always this way, he always made you say what you wanted from him, how bad you wanted him. You knew that this wasn’t just sexual, you knew that you saying how badly you wanted him healed his insecurities that he may not be enough for you. “Your hands, your mouth” “and where do you want them? You want them here?” As he runs his hand along your inner thigh. Fucking tease. “Want ‘em on my pussy ‘toru” You all but pout when you say it, at this point you were sick of the games, you needed him.

When he heard this a smirk immediately splayed across his mouth. “atta girl” You were thinking about how you wanted to kiss slap that smirk right off of his face until he finally gave in and started rubbing tight circles on your clit, and his mouth met where you needed him most. You were letting out moans of pure lust, gripping and pulling his hair, in turn causing him to moan into your pussy, sending the vibrations through your body. Your legs begin to pull in, wrapping around his head. Before you can get too far in this action, his veiny hand grips your thigh holding it back. He’s still lapping and sucking at your pussy, going between tounge-fucking you and sucking on your pretty, sensitive clit, and you can feel the band in your abdomen beginning to tighten. Then he sucks your clit all while using his tongue to trace figure eights around it, and that’s what causes that tightening band to snap. White spots cloud your vision, and your back arches, your grip on his hair does not lessen, neither do the efforts of his mouth. At this point, you don’t know whether to push him away or pull him in. Before you can decide he rises, his face glistening in your slick, god, he always looked like an angel like this, when doing the most sinful things.

He climbs back up and kisses you hard, you can taste yourself on him; you understand why he loves the taste so much. You begin to push yourself up and now he is below you on the couch, with you in his lap. You suckle onto his jawline, sure to leave marks tomorrow, which satoru loved, he would say you were “marking your territory” (that joke turned you on more than you would like to admit). You ran your hands down his rock hard chest, the years of jujutsu training serving him well, you stop for a second to play with his hard nipple, He'd never admit how sensitive his nipples were. Your hand kept going down rubbing against his abs, you swear you could ride just them, you might just try, but that’ll have to wait, you have one thing on your mind right now, to please your your man. You toy with the strings of his sweatpants, it’s then that you notice the wet pre-cum stain on the front, he must have been grinding into the couch while he pleased you. now you were going to return the favor. You slip off the edge of the couch and drop to your knees in front of him.

“I was so mean to you, ‘toru, lemme make it up to you?” You look up at him with doe eyes “Please” he whimpers out and spreads his thighs. You pull his sweats down just enough to free his aching cock, a long shaft, not much darker than his creamy skin tone, a pinkish purpleish mushroom head, and trimmed white hairs on the base. You place a small kiss on the tip and then start tracing your tongue along his slit. He lets out a gasp as soon as your mouth makes contact with him, his hips involuntarily buck up. You begin to take more of him into your mouth, eventually taking him to the hilt, feeling the burn in your throat, and your eyes begin to water, but you fight through. You bring a hand up to lightly massage his heavy balls and start bobbing your head up and down. He moans at the action but still, you know what would really make it up to him. You pull back a bit, take his hand in your own, and place it on the back of your head, for the first time, his head comes forward and he looks at you for confirmation, you nod to the best of your ability. He immediately begins bucking his hips, and moving your head back and forth, starting off slow. As your throat loosens and adjusts to the intrusion he speeds up his pace, truly fucking your face now. “fuck…so pretty like this…letting me use that slutty mouth for whatever I please” You moan at his words, the vibration triggering a groan from him. Just as you begin to feel him get closer, he pulls you off. “Nuh uh, my first load in three days is going in your pussy”

He easily picks you up, and you wrap your arms around his waist and keep sucking hickeys into his collarbones as he Carries you up to your shared bedroom.

Once you make it into the room and past another load of undone laundry he lays you down on the bed, he pulls your leggings off, and sheds himself of his sweatpants. He rests your legs on his shoulders and places a quick kiss on your ankle. He begins to rub his fat cock between your wet folds, you’re practically dripping for him. “Fuck such a perfect pussy…look at her trying to suck me in. I knew you were dying without me, sluts like you can’t go that long without getting fucked” Even thought you could tell he wanted you just as bad, the arousal clear in his voice. “Please ‘toru….put it in, please fuck me” That's all it takes for him to finally push himself inside you, and you feel the beautiful burn of him stretching you out. He lets out an almost pornographic moan when he’s finally inside you, he’ll never get over the way your velvety walls feel wrapped around him.

He sets a fast pace of fucking you that had your eyes rolling back in your head. “Yeah? You like that?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. You try to answer him anyway, but you’re too fucked out to even think so all that comes out is a small “y” sound between moans. Tears begin to prick in your eyes from how good he’s fucking you, as soon as he notices this it adds fuel to the fire inside him. “Aww, you cryin’? Huh? Cryin’ for my cock?” You can only moan and whine in response. He pulls out, but before you can even complain about the emptiness, he’s got you flipped on your stomach, pulling you up into doggy, pressing your back down into a deep arch, and filling you up again. He’s fucking into you relentlessly, abusing that sensitive spot inside you. He slaps your ass, watching it jigglr from the impact then reaches forward and wraps his hand around your throat, applying pressure to your pulse points. “Open.” He orders, and you open. He lets out a cocky chuckle “Look at you, such a cock drunk slut, don’t even question me.” And as soon as he’s done speaking a fat glob of spit falls from his lips to your tongue. The second it hits your tongue you moan and your pussy clenches, this doesn't go unnoticed by satoru. “Yeah? Felt your pussy clench down on me, like being treated like a worthless whore? Yeah, I know you do” Your fists ball, white knuckling the sheets and an unfamiliar feeling begins forming in your abdomen.

The feeling is foreign but it’s not a bad one so you let it keep developing, plus you can feel satoru getting closer, his thrusts getting sloppier, and you can practically feel him throbbing inside you. As he keeps bullying into you, the feeling in your abdomen gets stronger and stronger until it snaps. You could swear you passed out for a second, liquid gushing from between your legs, your whole body shaking. You can hear satoru letting out a string of curses as he reaches his peak as well, the image of you and the feel of your perfect pussy clenching down on him sending him over the edge. He bottoms out, releasing his load, as his balls contract and he fills you to the brim. “Shit. Holy fuck that was hot, you’re doing that again” Oh yeah, you were in for it tonight

#paranormalactivity5 #fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #dom gojo

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glitch-after-dark · 9 days

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For the writing requests.

Sunstreaker, nsfw, G1 and the prompt is something to do with his narcissism (Mirror, clones, get creative)

A Solo Session | Sunstreaker Solo

Sunstreaker checked his appearance one last time in the mirrors. He’d set them up so he’d have a view from all angles to ensure he was always in the best position. They were on a pulley system that could safely be retracted and adjusted now thanks to Wheeljack’s assistance. A necessity so Sunstreaker didn’t have to spend his setup time herding a grumbling Sideswipe into helping him.

His polish, as always, was perfect and his paint touch up had dried without a hint of difference. He had been worried about mixing in human paint but they’d done an admirable job helping get the right shade. He brushed his digits over his chassis, enjoying the smoothness that showed no hint of the nasty scratch he’d had only days prior from Skywarp. He glanced upwards towards the ceiling where a full body mirror hung and slid down on the luxurious pile of pillows to a more splayed-out position, moving one to directly under his lower back to give a more pronounced arch.

A side mirror showed how prettily the curved lined made his body and the way it allowed his chassis to hit the lighting better.

He smiled. Perfect. He took the time to watch himself, languidly tracing the lines of his body, enjoying both the feeling of his silky-smooth bodywork under his servos and the sight he made caressing himself. The camera should start the stream automatically, and the playlist started with a ping from his system. A thrumming, lyricless rhythm that he could feel vibrating sensually against his system.

As he moved his servos downwards, grasping the round curves of his hips and stroking inward to nudge his legs into parting, he found himself humming along with the familiar music. His body reacted to it from habit, having long associated it with appreciation. He looked in front of himself, watching his blue optics darken at the sight of the view of his long legs spread with servos teasing closer to his panel, pausing to trace his seams and dig into them to tease the wires underneath, starting up the first sparking charges within him.

His fans came on with a vengeance and the sound and touches triggered his array, though he kept it firmly shut, watching intently as he started to move his hips to the rhythm of the music. He wasn’t the dancer Jazz was, lacked the practiced sensuality, but he moved with the rhythm smooth and assured and the thrusting roll of his hips as his servos followed the movement only further got him in the mood.

His array pinged again to open, this time with a distinct wetness starting to gather behind one panel and pressurization alerts behind another. He dismissed it again, optics dimmed to focus on his fingers, digging into the opening in his hips pulling at the wires barely able to be caught inside them. The sharpness of the sensation made his mouth drop open to pant and he darted his optics upwards to admire how his lips looked open and plush, slightly damp from the oral lubricant gathering there.

His tongue darted out licking over the softness of them and he shivered from both the sight and the slow sensation.

This time when his array pinged he didn’t deny it, gasping as the cooler air made contact with his warmed up components.

Sunstreaker couldn’t have stopped himself from planting his feet to spread himself as wide as he could, making certain he had the perfect view of his carefully constructed array. His engine turned over at the vision he made.

Plush gold lips with the inside peaking out with how they spread with arousal, the inside stripped black to map out the calipers of the paler yellow soft insides visibly clenching and rippling, glistening pink stained fluid dripping down his thighs, a perfect white-gold bright node lit up and peaking outside of the hood.

"Perfect," he breathed out angling his hips in a way to share the sight. "And all mine."

He felt a wonderful throb at the sound of alert pings popping up from the computer he left open and smirked. Oh, it would be fun to read later and the heat building in him felt all the sweeter for all the envy he knew his fans felt. It was going to be a long session, he could already tell.

Sorry for the delay it took me a bit to get the flow going, though it was fun. Hope you enjoy!

#valveplug #sunstreaker #ask fic

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bas-writes · 1 year

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Stubborn Lace

Character: Drake Reader: female (cis) Word Count: 718 CW: light n.sfw content, lingerie, scent kink A/N: reposted fic written for a past cancelled event

Drake’s pupils change shape and dilate, much like predator’s who spotted its prey. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t panic nor explode with vivid blush, his attention swallowed by the unusual sight. His eyes skim your figure with lust you are not so used to witnessing—a painfully slow wander from your breasts, lifted and exposed by the corset, with the line of your waist, underlined with tight lace and clasps, to your hips, finally, his favorite spot.

“That’s—” As if disbelieving his own eyes, he wipes face with a hand, peeks at you once again behind fingers. “That’s…insanely hot, Y/N.”

“Do you like it?” You turn, showing the back side, earning a sharp inhale from him as his gaze rests on your ass, trimmed with brief, fine panties.

“Do I…” He shifts in chair, a blush finally finding a way to his cheeks—but his face is nothing but embarrassment. “Goddammit, just come here, you tease.”

His lap is a place crafted for you, comfortable yet impatient, bucking up as soon as you straddle him and take a seat. Drake’s hands tremble when he caresses the line of your spine, but once they set on your hips and squeeze all the tenderness evaporates. Fingers sink into your flesh with dedication, the inhuman strength leaving bruises for sure.

You can feel his feral side wrangling with the gentle giant nature as he grinds and squeezes, appreciates the views and sensations you offered so willingly and attired nicely. The Zoan instinct wins, always does, with a single breath of your scent, his nose pressed tight to your neck, tongue tasting your skin before Drake, with a groan, latches lips to it, leaving the first, quite rough hickey.Trapped between his huge, muscular chest and possessive hands, you eagerly let the haze of pleasure engulf you. Drake is not easy to succumb to his desires without a fight against his shyness—you want to take everything out of this rare opportunity, no matter the delicious costs that will stay on your body for days.

Tight leather pants underneath leave you no doubt he’s as determined. You, already slick and needy, can’t wait to unleash it and get the whole power for yourself.

Grazing your neck and collarbones with hunger, Drake aims for the main course, teeth growing sharper the closer he inches to your

breasts. They tempt with their new shape, hugged so tightly by corset and begging to be freed. One hand sneaks up, fingers test the laces, look for a place to pull and reveal…

They look. And look. And look.

“Babe?” Grinding impatiently, you dart your eyes up.

Expected immense lust has disappeared under frustrated whim and bright-red blush. “Is everything alright?”

“I—” Your attention tangles Drake’s tongue, as if tangling the lacing tighter was not enough. “I got this. Really. Just give me— Fuck, I got it, I promise.”

“Maybe let me, if you keep pulling—”

“I got it.”

Of course, he pulls wrong. Groaning with irritation, he abandons your hips, now both of his hands working behind your back, first just trying to solve the puzzles of female undergarment, soon furiously wrangling with the pile of lace, elegance, and unknown anatomy. Bellies dance in your eyes when you hear the corset moaning under his attempts. The seam will give up sooner than lacing, that’s for sure.

Gnawing curses, Drake is all on the mission of freeing your chest, desperate to feed his lust and save the heat between you two, reduced to simmering so fast, too fast. Your irritated grind against his bulge doesn’t help, neither of you, only adding to his frustration and your aching emptiness.

“Maybe we will just—”

“I. Got. It.” He pulls one last time, hard enough to drag a gasp out of you.

And snaps.

Drake, not a gentle giant anymore, grabs the front of the corset and, groaning like an animal, tears it open, fine cloth nothing for his strength. A shocked yelp dies in your throat with another pull, on your hair, arching you for him, putting your now bare breasts on perfect display.

“I’ll get you a better one,” he promises, his voice so raspy it doesn’t sound human anymore, his pupils so dilated they turn his eyes black when he, finally, leans to feast on his long-awaited meal.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #drake x reader #drake x you #drake x y/n #bas writes #x drake #sinful #female reader

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sugarushsuga · 2 years

Text

New Year's Resolutions

Genre/Au's: Smut; Idol!Verse

Paring: Jimin x F-Reader

Words count: 8.084

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut, penetrative sex, protected sex, sightly exhibitionism, cheating.

Synopsis: New Year’s party with old friends make old feelings resurface. You don’t have many expectations or resolutions for the up coming year. Until Jimin brings a new light over all the old things left behind.

Author note: This fic has been sitting on my files for months now, I kept waiting to edit it since I wanted to post it on New Year’s Day. But since I’m on a pity and can’t seam to write to save my life, I just decided to edit it and post to not let the Angel’s birthday go by without a fic for him.

Masterlist

Breathing the cold air of the night you close your eyes and rest back on the soft couch. You don’t intend to stay out for long, just enough to recharge your social battery a little bit longer. It’s cold like every New Year’s in winter, the balcony has an amazing view from the river, where the fireworks show will be held when the clock strikes midnight.

But right now, there are still a few hours to go and so most of the party goers are still inside enjoying the heated room with drinks and food. Outside it’s only you and another two people who are further away smoking a cigarette.

You sigh tiredly. It has been weeks or maybe even months since you agreed to attend this New Year’s party, you even got pretty excited about it, a chance to dress up and meet up with your friends from school, the ones you are still in touch with and the ones you’ve lost touch over the years. One of them is the co-owner of the hotel and offered the place for the party.

And that should’ve been a hint that this party wouldn’t be anything more than an excuse for your old classmates to try to overpower and overshadow each other’s accomplishments and richness. You hate it. Not that you are doing bad, you just don’t enjoy rubbing your accomplishments on others' faces, you are sure everyone worked really hard to be where they are even if it’s not where they dreamed to be. You don’t understand what is the need to or why people want to show they are better or more accomplished. Who has a better job, who lives better, who already have kids, who is married, who is engaged, who has a boyfriend and, oh! Did you see? That one is single, poor classmate. Or, their significant other is not well accomplished.

Once again you feel out of place with them, just like in the old school days.

You swill the Champaign in your flute, taking a sip you rest your head back enjoying the way the cold December air burns your throat as it fills your lungs. Alone enjoying the freezing cold air, until a shadow blocks the light coming from the ballroom inside.

“Is your New Year’s resolution to freeze yourself before the new year actually starts?”

Opening your eyes, you see the tall man standing in front of you, the light making his shadow a tall monster over you. He has a back suit, no tie, top buttons undone, some chains around his neck, his hair perfectly styled back, shiny shoes, one hand in his pants pocket and the other holds a Champagne flute like yours. You’ve seen him dressed like that one hundred and a million times and you still get dumbfounded by the view. This time is even more breathtaking since it is not just a photo or video of him.

“Jimin,” you say, taking another sip of your drink.

“Your date is inside having the time of his life with our friends. He seems to fit in with them as if he has always been part of the group, and you are out here alone.” He says tilting his head.

“I’m not alone, Junhee and his date are out here smoking.” You say.

“They are?” He raises a brow. “Pretty sure I saw them walking in a couple of minutes ago.”

You look around the balcony and he is right, they are not here anymore.

“Why are you alone?” He asks, this time his voice is softer.

You sigh as you organize the words inside your head. “I- I’m tired.” Your sentence sounds a lot more like a question than an affirmative and you kick yourself mentally for it.

“Of the social gathering? Of meeting up with our old class? Of your date, or just really hiding from it all?” He asks with a hint of a smile on his lips as he sips his Champaign, half of his flute is gone now.

“All of those?” You mutter shrugging your shoulders feeling cold. You left your coat at the coat check at the beginning of the party.

“You know, you didn’t need to come if you didn’t want to.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other making the shadow over you dance from one side to the other.

“I did want to come, but once I got here, I wanted to leave.” You admit looking at the glass in your hand.

“Y/n,” his voice is sweet when he calls your name. “If you don’t want to be here you can always leave, there is no problem in doing it.”

You look up and Jimin is staring at you, his eyes intense and sweet, his angelic face is serious with genuine concern for an old friend. That's just so like him. To be selfless, to be concerned for everyone around him, to come outside in the cold to console an old friend who is putting herself down for comparing herself with the others inside.

If anything, you should be feeling even worse now that you are facing Jimin. If not, he is the most successful one at the party -of course Taehyung is tied with him, but since Taehyung is not the one here, Jimin is the most successful one present at this moment. BTS is at the all-time top, and nothing seems to be slowing them down at any time soon. And yet here he is, chugging down his flute of Chandon and watching you wallow in self-pity.

“You don’t understand how much I hate myself for feeling like this, I know they are no best and I’m no worst but, still I can’t help feeling like I have nothing I can ever brag about. I was never the best at any of our classes, I didn’t go to a prestigious university, I didn’t study abroad, I don’t have a company with billions of net worth… l, I just don’t have anything to ever brag about.” You press your eyes closed hating how you just poured all of this out to him.

“Y/n,” Jimin takes a seat by your side, his Champagne flute is now empty. “You don’t have to compare yourself to others, I know it is much easier said than done but it’s true. They don’t live your life and I’m sure there are people who’d like to be where you are right now, plus you do have some things to brag about the old days, you just don’t recall it.”

Scoffing, you turn to look at him. “Being good at claw game machines is no skill to brag about, Jimin.”

“Oh! That one is a good one, but I wasn’t talking about that.” He takes your glass and drinks your Champaign in one sip. “You were Taehyung’s first, real, kiss.” He points at you holding your empty glass.

You roll your eyes. He is right, but that is nothing to brag about, also most people would just think you are lying about it.

Some of your old classmates might remember it, but if you ever bring it up, they probably will just pretend they don’t, and without Tae to back it up you’d never bring this up. -Also, you’d never recall this happening in respect of his relationship, it was just a truth of dare game when you were still in high school.

“Jimin, is not like I can just bring this up, they won’t believe it or pretend they don’t remember, plus it has been almost ten years since then.” You scoff.

“Hm… true, what about… the fact you were my first time?” He asks with a shiny innocent smile making you choke on the cold air.

“Jimin!” You censor him.

“What? It’s true!” He presses.

“It doesn’t matter!” You press the back of your hands in your burning hot cheeks averting your gaze from him.

“But it’s true, it was my first and honestly the best time I ever had.” He chuckles at your reaction.

“Okay, I know you want to make me feel better, but there is no need to lie.” You fan your face looking away from him.

“Is not a lie.” He takes one of your cold hands in his warm one. “You know, I hated when you kissed Taehyung, because I had a crush on you. And that day we spent together was really the best one for me.”

“Jimin,” you plead, biting your lower lip.

“Y/n, what else do I have to do?” He tugs on your hand in a way of asking you to look at him and you do. “I’ve liked you for over ten years, I’ve dated other people, I had tons of sex around with other idols, with celebrities from all over the word and still, when I come here I rather spend my time freezing outside in the cold watching you drowning yourself in pity just because your boyfriend fits in with our friends much better than you ever did. Instead of standing there and hearing them all praise me, fill my ego after they had spent years saying that I was never gonna make it.” He rants, voice taking a harder tone as he goes on. “Even now when I’m admitting that I’m still head over heels for you, you push me away because you think that for some twisted reason you aren’t enough when I’m just saying that you are the only one I want.”

You don’t answer him. He is right in everything he said, and you hate it how you can’t put up walls around your heart when it comes to him. Jimin always had the ability to see through you, maybe that’s why you always have been attracted to him. He is the only one who can untangle the mess of feelings and thoughts inside your head. The only one who’s words hurt you but warms you all at the same time. The one you had to let go so he could pursue his glorious and bright future without any hold backs or worries.

At any point you were too pretentious to think he wouldn’t get where he is because of you. No. You always knew he and BTS would make it. But he wanted to date you and you wanted him to live his life to the fullest, to enjoy his every day, his every night, to find his pleasure anywhere he was at, and being tied to you would only hurt you both. Maybe things would end up in a bad way, with both of you hurt, so you let him go. Said that you only wanted to be friends with benefits and if that wasn’t enough you should try to only stay friends.

He kept in touch from time to time, a text message here and there, a few years without seeing each other due to his busy schedule. Friendly greetings on the few gatherings he managed to go to, always with someone else, usually Taehyung, standing in between you two.

This is probably the longest time you both had ever been alone since then.

“If you want to stay here drowning your sorrows in Chandon, fine, go ahead.” Jimin drops your hand as he gets up from the couch.

He places his blazer on your shoulders before he takes both flutes and heads back inside. The blazer is still warm from his body, you can’t help but pull it tighter around yourself and sniff the expensive fabric in an attempt to feel him closer to you.

You stay there wrapped in his jacket thinking about what he just told you, he is right about you putting yourself down in light of others, you always thought of yourself less than the others, maybe the reason why you never really fitted in has always been for your lack of confidence in yourself. Since you always saw yourself as less you never felt the honesty of others when it was aimed at you.

Just like you always diminished Jimin’s feelings for you, he always made them known and clear, but you just brushed it off as him trying to comfort you for not being great at anything, just an average person living an average life.

A commotion inside gets your attention, from the big glass wall that leads to the inside of the ball room you can see Jimin, Taehyung and some of the other guys drowning glasses of some drink you can’t make out from the distance. Seunghyun, your date, is taking part in whatever game they are playing.

Seunghyun is not bad, you are not in love with him, and you don’t think you’ll be. You do think he looks good, strong jaw and overall good looking, but he doesn’t make shivers run up your body or your heart race when you know you’ll see him. He sees you as an asset, you look good by his side, it makes him look good in the picture. Both your mothers have been friends for years.

The blind date they set up for you seemed good last month when you met him. You’ve been on 7 dates with him. Mostly dinners and the end of year company parties. He did try to make things more serious, but you don’t feel as if you are on the same page as him. You don’t feel seen or heard when you are with him, much less cared about.

As you walk to your late twenties your mother has been nagging you about finding someone to build a family with. You need to start dating someone who you can marry and have kids with, you need someone who you can care about, who will be by your side when you grow old. When she talks about this someone, she refers to your future son or daughter, as you both know well that husbands and fathers can just walk out of your life as if you never existed, but the kids remain.

But when you think of this someone she talks about, you picture a 19 year old boy, with rounder cheeks, dark hair, soft eyes and plumb lips. With an angelic voice and dark eyeliner. A boy who touched your body as if he was touching the most delicate art work ever made in history. One who kept asking nonstop if this is fine, that was always humming your favorite song, which turned into a man you see on tv, hears on the radio, is everywhere followed by millions.

When you look inside again the game is over and everyone is scared in groups chatting and drinking and laughing, waiting for the clock to strike midnight ending this year and starting a new, hopeful one.

You get up and shiver as the ice cold wind brushes through your body, slipping your arms though the arm of the blazer jacket. Your steps are shaky from the cold and also from the fear that guides you. You can’t feel the biting cold of the glass door as you push it open walking into the ballroom. Just the kids who are playing closer to the door that take notice of you walking in, everyone else too engrossed in their own bubble.

You look though the groups searching for the man who came with you, but your eyes seem to have a target of their own, they land on Jimin more times than you’d like to admit. He knows you are looking at him, at one time he stares back even raising his Champagne flute at you before taking a sip.

You take a flute from a passing waiter and walk around the room looking for your date. Trying your best to avoid the man your eyes and body crave for. After Jimin’s confession, you can’t pretend anymore that you don’t have feelings for him. He made it all come out from the place you buried it on the day you turned him down. And now you think it is just too much to be in a room full of people and him and pretend like you are just fine with things as they are. As if you aren’t boxing all the what ifs scenarios that your head tries to play with all the possibilities of the past.

“Y/n,” your spinning thoughts are paused by Seunghyun calling your name. “Have you meet Iljung’s wife, Chaerin? She also works on the finance market.” He says putting his arm around your shoulders, not noticing, or not commenting about the jacket you have, he places a new flute of Chandon on your hand and drives you to the couple.

Yes, you’ve met her before, on a few class meetings and on their wedding day. She is pregnant with their second child and it’s going to be a boy. They have a two year old girl called Chaeil, who looks just like her mom.

You do some small talk with them, Iljung and Seunghyun became best friends in the last few hours, as Jimin pointed out, he does fit in with your friends much better than you do. For the first time since ever, the thought doesn’t seem to annoy you, you actually don’t care about it.

As if pulled by a magnet your eyes land on him. Jimin is by the bar with Taehyung and a group of people, mostly women.

You are so immersed in your thoughts that you don’t hear when Chaerin calls you, twice.

“Yes?” You jump once she touches your arm.

“Can you go to the toilet with me? I need a little hand to open my jumpsuit.” She asks.

“Oh, of course not. If you excuse us.” You say drowning your Champaign before following her. You only realize she is wearing a jumpsuit now that she mentioned it. Most of the women in the party are wearing long dresses to keep their body warm.

“I’m sorry to ask this, but I’ve been wanting to pee for so long and Iljung can’t just come with me to the bathroom.” She says making small talk.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” You caress her back and walk with her to the bathroom. Once in there you help her with her jumpsuit, she goes inside a cabin and locks the door.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when I saw Jimin and Taehyung, I didn’t know you all had gone to school together. I was feeling so weird tonight, no dress looked good on me and then Jimin said that I’m the most beautiful woman in the party. I know he was just being sweet, but I can’t help but feel this sincere honesty in his words. It just made my sadness go away.” She says as the sound of her peeing fills the, otherwise, empty bathroom.

“Jimin, doesn’t say things just for saying, he always means what he says.” You hear yourself saying.

“You two seem pretty close.” She points.

“No, we aren’t, we are just old friends from school. Plus, that is what all his interviews say, you know it is so hard to not see or hear anything about BTS these days…” You chuckle nervously.

“Hm…” she hums, getting out of the stall and turning her back at you. You zip up her jumpsuit and fidgets with the button on the blazer sleeve.

Luckily Chaerin seems to forget the topic and move on, she starts talking about the food and how everything is so tasty, especially the cheese pasties, she was never a big fan of it but since the pregnancy… you tune out her words, nodding, humming and dropping a “really, don’t you say it” here and there. Your thoughts are consumed by Jimin.

Back to her husband and your date, they are now talking about real estate and how Iljung and Chaerin managed to buy this big house in a noble neighborhood for half of the market price. The pregnant woman joins the conversation very excitedly talking about the renovations they did and the kids' rooms.

Three champagnes later the topic remains, you nod and smile here and there agreeing to everything that is said, your eyes traveling from one side of the room to another from time to time following the angelic smiles and perfectly styled hair.

Taehyung approaches your group to bid his farewell and wish everyone a great turn of the year. He is leaving, not waiting for the fireworks. On the short conversation you had with him earlier - when Seunghyun was very immersed in talking with Jimin and some other guys at that moment. Taehyung confessed that he and Jimin were just dropping by to see the old friends, they were actually, turning the year on a private party that Hoseok was doing, a lot less people, much more private and no chances of being filmed drunk or put in a difficult situation. He also mentioned the fact that the significant others of the dating members would be there too.

“Hey, I just wanted to wish you all a happy new year, since I’m already leaving.” Taehyung smiles.

“Oh? Already?” Chaerin pouts. “Why are you leaving so soon? Are you not going to see the fireworks? Are you going to spend it alone?” She shoots question after question without taking a break to breath.

You give him a look of sympathy feeling bad that probably a lot of people there are wondering the same thing if not trying to find out where he is going to.

“No, I’m not spending it alone, I’ll spend it with my parents and sister. They are already waiting for me.” Taehyung gave her a polite smile.

“It was great to see you, we should meet up more often.” Iljung suggests and Taehyung nods in a way that says that is not going to happen.

“It was a pleasure to meet you. I'll be looking forward to the next class reunion to talk to you again.” Seunghyun offers to shake his hand.

Taehyung gives you an impressed look and takes a step in your direction pulling you into a hug.

“I had the impression you weren’t that serious with him.” He whispers in your ear.

“We are not serious, I’m not in love with him.” You say patting his back.

“That’s good, great actually!” He says with a mischievous smile as he breaks the hug. “I’m really happy to see you again Y/n, I’m looking forward to seeing you more often. I’m quite sure it’ll be sooner than we imagine.”

“Wha-“ you cut yourself realizing the others can hear you.

Taehyung smooths the blazer over your shoulders before giving both men another hand shake and a quick hug on the pregnant woman and waves his good-byes before moving to the next group and leaving the party in another five minutes.

Once again you can’t really focus on the conversation that your group engages, your eyes scan the party looking for the man that borrowed you, his blazer. You can’t find him, maybe he left together with his group mate, who makes you wonder why he didn’t say goodbye. Iljung is telling some old story about how he used to play football with Taehyung and Jimin and how the other members, trainees at the time, also joined.

Some other people join the group, mostly your male classmates, they all share stories about their adventures during physical education with your famous friends. Sometime during this talk Chaerin moves to stand by your side. You don’t notice it until she caresses the blazer sleeve where your arm is.

“This is such a nice blazer. Who does it belong to?” She asks directly with a low voice, so others won’t hear it.

“What?” you ask, trying to cover your surprise with confusion.

“Seunghyun still has his own, so it is not his. Suddenly you had it on, I didn’t see anyone giving it to you.”

“I- I don’t know” you reply trying to keep your face neutral. “I found it outside when I went to take some air.”

“Oh!” She nods. “Maybe you should look at the pockets, it may have something to identify who it does belong to, maybe the coat ticket.” She watches you expectantly.

Under her intense gaze you make the body tap dance, palming the pockets of the jacket, pretending to look for some identification of who the jacked may belong to. On the right outer pocket, you find some sort of paper, you take it out and look at it, just that is not the coat ticket, it is bigger and thicker, it has a number on it but not the coat number.

“See?” Chaerin says smiling, “everyone came with a coat now we can find who the blazer belongs too” she smiles wildly.

“Yeah…” your voice trembles and you hope she doesn’t hear it.

“Maybe it is from someone who is not at the party, I don’t remember seeing many guys without their jackets.” Chaerin keeps on blabbing as she tugs you by the arm leading you away from the group of men talking about football teams.

“Where are you going?” Stopping you watch her.

“Where else? To the coat check, let's solve this mystery.” She says excitedly.

“Hm… but, we have to go down stairs, are you gonna be fine?” You bite your lower lip hoping she takes your nervousness as worry.

“Oh, that’s true…” she deflates a little. “But on the other side there is the elevator we can take it.” She chips, changing her direction.

“But won’t people think it's weird we’re going down? They may think you are not feeling well and get worried.” You quickly add trying to find a way out. “What if-“ you say, coming up with a plan. “You stay at the party, and I quickly go down stairs, check who the jacket belongs to and come back up? That way nobody will get worried about you.” -and you won’t find out this isn’t a coat ticket- you mentally add.

“But what if people ask about you?”

You doubt anyone will do it. “Just say I went to the bathroom, it's in that direction anyway.”

She stops to think, biting her lower lip and tapping her chin. “Yeah, it’ll only take you about five minutes, right?” You nod. “Fine, but you come straight to tell me, okay?”

Nodding you turn towards the door that leads to the bathroom and to the stairs that leads to the first floor of the hotel. You take quick steps holding on the handrail to make sure you won't fall as you descend it. Once in the lobby floor you need to look around to spot the elevator, you weren't paying attention to the hotel interior when you came in with Seunghyun.

Once you spot it, you make your way trying to look confident and like you know where you are going. Pressing the button, you pray that no one at the party has decided to spend the night in the hotel or is leaving early, you don't want an awkward encounter.

When the door pings open you get inside as fast as possible trying to not twist your ankle in your haste. You press the 29th floor button and pray that nobody shows up before the door closes.

Once you are enclosed in a metal box, your nerves start to bite at you again. Your palms start to sweat, and you think you are shaking. Trying to convince your own self that it is from the cold, as you clean away the thoughts of what are the chances that he is there? that he hasn’t actually left? that he is waiting for you? What if he is there? What if he is waiting for you? Then what? What if he is there with someone else? Then what?

There is no time to think on the answers, the doors slide open making you look up. Knowing you need to get out your feet seem to glue on the floor, and you can’t move. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just dropped the blazer at the coat check saying you found it somewhere? They will go through the pockets and find the room key, they will ring the guests and tell them about it. The doors ding, signaling that it's closing and you take a step putting your hand in between them to stop it.

Stepping out of the elevator the room card burns inside the blazer’s pocket. Taking small and short steps you find yourself in front of the room. There are few rooms on the floor, as they are the master bedrooms. With trembling hands, you scan the card on the door’s lock. The green light blinks, unlocking it. You don’t know when your brain commands your hand to push the door open, but you do.

The lights are dim, the white dress shirt is thrown carelessly over the couch in the room’s living room. Other than the Valentino's expensive shiny black shoes there aren’t any more discarded clothes. The whole room is quiet, and you wonder if it’s because there isn’t anyone in there or if it’s because your heart beats so loud in your ears that it muffles all else. Entering the master bedroom, he’s there.

Black pants on a new jacket on, this one is blue with gold and many flowers embroidered on it, a glass of wine in his hand, his back faces you as he watches the night sky through the window wall.

“And here you are, hiding away, drowning your sorrows in Chardonnay.”

“Chardonnay is better than Chandon. I didn’t think you’d come” he admits looking at you through the reflection in the window.

“I shouldn’t have come.” You stare at his eyes in the reflection.

“You shouldn’t have.” He confirms. “But I’m happy you did.”

He places the wine glass on the table by the window and turns towards you. Your eyes follow the links of the chains around his neck going down his torso, traveling to the soft lines of his defined abdomen. A spark rises from your core and spreads through your body. You should leave, and yet you take a step in his direction.

“I thought you would spend the turn with your members.” You look around the room, there is a carry-on suitcase open in the further corner of the room by the bathroom door. The lights are on in the other room, the door ajar.

“That was my safe option, but this is where I’d really wanted to be. Even though I’m scared to make the turn alone in this room.”

“You can always go back down to the party.” You comment stopping by the table and looking down the window. The party balcony is softly illuminated, and is quite far away from where you are now.

“This is where I want to be, not down there.” Jimin repeats, eyes boring holes on your face as he stares at you looking down.

“My boyfriend didn’t even care that I was gone.” You turn toward him fidgeting with the room key in your hands.

“Y/n,” Jimin’s voice is soft, calling your name. “I won’t ever know what you want, what you are feeling if you don’t tell me.” He places a strand of hair behind your year.

You - the voice in your head screams at him. But your mouth says. “I have a boyfriend.” Still your head tilts and you press your cheek in his warm hand.

He caresses it for a moment, before his hand slides down your cheek, through your neck, his finger tangles with the hair on the back of your neck, his other hand finds it way around your waist. Stumbling you crash hard against his chest when he pulls you to himself.

Jimin’s plump lips are warm and taste like wine. The press of his lips is soft, contrasting with the way his hands grab at your body pressing you hard against his own. Your lips part, taking his bottom lip on yours, sucking on it, savoring the wine taste and the soft groan that comes from the man.

His lips part from yours only to come back, this time with hunger as his tongue passes by your lips finding its way towards yours, his wet muscle caresses yours in a dangerous dance. Your moan is swallowed by his lips. The hand on the back of your head guides you so he can deepen the kiss.

Your mind is hazy once he finally breaks the kiss. Maybe it is the lack of air, to which you take a deep breath, but maybe it is all because of the way he looks at you, eye hooded, dark with lust and that warmth of his genuine care. Your arms wrap around his waist, he trembles in your arms when your cold hands touch the bare skin of his back.

“Y/n” Jimin's voice comes out rough.

His Adam apple bobbing up and down as he shallows, you place a soft kiss on it, and then another on more to the left, and yet another following up to his jaw. The hand on your waist slowly slides down to your ass, his head rolls back exposing more of his skin is a clear invitation that you don’t even need to think twice.

Wetting your lips, they follow the muscle up his neck, licking and kissing their way to the ink behind his ear. You breath softly against the spot and his fingers dig on the fabric of your dress groping your ass. The bulge pressing against your lower stomach grows harder and so does the wetness on your center. You kiss the teasing mole on his collar bone.

Jimin doesn’t take his hands off of you, they travel up and down your body, grasping at the fabric of your dress, digging on your skin, trying to get more but at the same time waiting for your approval, for your permission. Caressing your shoulders, he removes the blazer from your shoulders and carelessly throws it on the floor, fingers reaching the zipper on the back of your neck. His eyes stare at yours in a silent question, his hands only work again when you nod.

The easy way he manages to undo your dress adds weight to his words from earlier, he did get more experienced over the past years. His fringes brush your shoulders again as they push the fabric off, his hands are warm and they tremble slightly, betraying his confident stance. You take your hands off him to help him rid your body from its confinement.

Taking a sharp breath Jimin drops your dress on the floor and stares at your body. “Fuck!”

A shiver runs up your body at the same time heat pools in your middle. His hungry eyes follow every curve of your body, taking their time over your bare breasts and the fabric of your blue-stay-at-home panties. A smirk spreads over his lips.

“You didn’t plan the night to go anywhere close to this.” The teasing in his voice has heat spreading through your cheeks.

“Jimin-“ you mumble looking away towards the night outside the window.

“I’m glad you weren’t planning on having sex with that asshole.” He breathes against your ear. Hands caressing the exposed skin of your hips, traveling up your sides, cupping your breasts, thumbs and index fingers automatically pinching and rolling your nipples.

Your eyes fall shut against your will, you don’t want to close your eyes, you want to watch Jimin, you want to see him devour you with his dark lusten eyes. Your lips feel dry from being parted from so long letting gasp after gasp out in approval of his ministrations over your body. His lips brush over your neck, hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine.

Plumb lips suck hard on your sweet spot at the same time his index finger slips past your panties band tracing a line down your pussy, your hands grab at the thick expensive fabric of his jacket. He brushes over your swollen clit. Your moan is obscene when he circles your drenched entrance. You clench around nothing.

“I could come just from feeling you up like this.” Jimin admits.

Your eyes travel from his angelic face down his body, stopping at the tightness on his crotch. Commanding your fingers to let go of his jacket you gently push it off of his shoulders, caressing the skin of his arms as the fabric falls off. Your hands make their way back up, caressing his lean muscular shoulders, lightly pressing the skin on his collarbones, down to his toned chest. Biting your lip, you look up at him. His dark eyes follow your every move, drinking every caress you offer.

You feel his sharp intake of air when your fingers caress over his nipples, slipping down to his abdomen, he flexes the muscles there, making you giggle softly. The few strands of hair underneath his navel are soft and disappear inside his pants. Just as he did to you, you look up asking for his silent permission.

Jimin nods.

Your hands shake as you hold the fabric of his pants and try to pass the button through its loophole. His warm hands cover yours, stopping all your movements. Is reassuring. It warms you inside, knowing that he won’t move further if you don’t want to. But you do, and for the first time in so long, you are confident that this is what you want.

You tiptoe to press your lips on his. Jimin is quick to respond to your kiss, hands cupping your cheeks and angling your head so he can deepen it. You fumble a little but manage to undo his pants, caressing his waist as you push the fabric of pants and boxers off his round muscular ass. You can’t help yourself but pinch his back side.

Jimin yelps and laughs with you. Kicking the mount of clothes away he lifts your chin pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Are you sure about it?”

You nod. He doesn’t move.

“Just like the sun will rise in the morning. I’ve never felt this right in my life.” You admit looking into his eyes, showing him the deepest desire that burns in you. Your heart has belonged to him for so many years that you always thought everyone could see it.

He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. Taking a step back, Jimin peaks your lips before heading to the open suitcase across the room, he throws a few more of his expensive perfectly folded clothes to the floor before finding a condom. Ripping it open with his teeth, Jimin pumps himself a couple of times before unrolling the protection on himself. The foil is also thrown to the floor.

Licking your lips, you swallow the saliva that gathers in your mouth as you focus on the muscle in between his legs. Once he is back in front of you his teasing smirk makes you blush and look away. Seeing your putty reflection in the windows you avert your eyes to the floor.

“Come on Y/n, I’m sure you don’t find these grandma panties sexy.” He jokes.

“They are comfortable.” You pout.

“They are a turn off.” Jimin keeps making fun of it.

“You don’t seem turned off.” You defy raising a brow and pressing your finger to the head of his proud standing cock.

“You know that just one look from you and I’m hard as rock.” He confesses making your jaw drop. Averting his eyes to your blue panties he adds, “if you want to stop, we can stop it, at any point. I won’t get mad or upset with you.”

“Jimin,” you call, waiting until he looks back into your eyes. “I don’t want to stop, I want you to fill my body, because my mind is already full of you. It has been for the past years.”

You push your panties down and the wet fabric clings to your pussy, stretching the clean lubrification once it's peeled from your skin. Jimin licks his lips as if he is watching a full meal set in front of him after being starved. You kick the wet fabric aside.

His right hand rests on your hips as his lips find yours once again. Your hands tangle on his dark hair, messing it up. The kiss is sweet despite the hunger burning inside both of you. Jimin, caresses your side, raising your leg to rest against his hip. You can hear the wet sound of your folds partying with the movement. He smiles in the kiss, and you tighten your closed eyes trying to control your embarrassment.

Jimin presses your back to the glass, and you jump in his arms as the cold glass shocks your heated body. His lips move to your neck, hot breath fanning your skin as his fingers caress your sides.

Keeping one hand at his neck the other hand helps him guide his cock. He presses it to your wet folds, using your natural accumulated lubrification to wet his protected hardness. Pressing his head to your clit you moan as he tugs on your bottom lip. You press his head into your entrance lifting yourself on your tiptoes.

Steady and slowly, Jimin pushes in, thrusts himself into you, savoring the warmth that welcomes him, feeling your fluttering walls around him. His head falls back as throaty moans escape his lips, a new wave of your arousal coats the protection upon hearing the sound coming from the man in your arms.

Kissing his neck, you bask in the feeling of being rightfully full. Jimin has bottomed out on you, his thickness is just right, enough to feel a comfortable stretch. He rests his forehead on yours, his breath fanning across your face as he makes eye contact with you. The first thrust is shallow, more a roll of his hips than an actual trust.

The next movement half of his cock is pulled out before he pushes it back in, it’s a slow steady pace, you close your eyes concentrating on the feeling of him filling you up whenever he thrusts into you. Your clit lightly brushes against his skin. That warm fluffy feeling filling your body, growing inside of you.

Jimin’s moans are soft, matching yours, more like breathing against your neck. He is feeding himself without a rush. He is savoring how your walls take him, remembering how you felt on your first time. You were both inexperienced but even then, he felt just like the right fit for you.

Tentatively you roll your hips during his trust, the harder friction makes you gasp louder. Jimin’s soft lips whisper sweet nothings in your ear, encouraging you to keep going like that. Whispering your name, saying how good you feel. Your lips keep on calling for him, pleading him to not stop. And he doesn’t.

Trusting faster on you his body starts to gleam with sweat, the warmth inside you grows hotter, your walls tighter, as the waves of pleasure spread through your body, his moans grow louder just like your calls for his name. He presses you so hard against his chest that you think you’ll get tattooed on it. You can fill your bugging stomach against him every time he trusts in you.

You feel a tightness inside of you growing, as the waves of pleasure grow stronger, you roll your hips faster, chancing your high, his cock is moving faster, until they are gone.

You stumble as you open your eyes. There’s some noise outside but you can’t make it out too astonished by how Jimin just pulled out of you.

“What th-'' you try to question him. He’s clearly also fucked up and annoyed by his own interruption.

Jimin cut your words with a hard press of his lips on yours. “Turn around” when you don’t move, still annoyed, he turns you by your shoulders. “Look outside.” He instructs, stepping behind you, he uses his feet to part your legs widening your instance. You feel him aligning himself in your entrance once again. He trusts in, swiftly and all at once this time.

“Fuck” you moan loudly as his head caresses your sensitive spot. Looking outside you see people gathering at the balcony way too many floors below you.

Jimin presses his body on your back and you arch it so he can hit your spot over and over during each one of his trust. Placing your hands on the glass to not hit your face on it the cold glass brush over your hardened nipples sending shivers over your body. His index finger finds your swollen and neglected clit. With expertise Jimin pinches your bundle of nerves making you jump in place before starting to caress it.

The tightness upon your stomach is back and much tighter than before. The waves of pleasure wash over you making your body tremble. Your pussy clenches at each trust of his hips, your fingers try to grab at the glass at the same time your toes curl, something explodes inside of you, warm and full of different colors sending electricity all over your body, making colorful sparks shine behind your eyelids.

Jimin’s thrusts grow erratic, and he buries himself deep inside of you at the same time another explosion happens. The shocks of pleasure are still running over your body making your pussy flutter and pulse around him milking off his cum inside the condom.

His skin is sticking to yours, his lips brush your temple. “Happy new year, Y/n.”

You take his hand linking your fingers with his. “Happy new year, my love.”

His smile is full of teeth, you know that because you can see it reflected on the window in between explosions of fireworks. You two remain there connected and in each other’s arms until the explosions end. Jimin takes a step back, easing himself out of you, to what you let out a sad sigh. You can heat the indistinct noise of the condom being tied as you watch his round ass going inside the bathroom through the window.

You hear the sound of the toilet being flushed before the tap water runs. You turn around just in time to see Jimin walk out with a damp towel. In another silent agreement he cleans you up with the delicacy that only an angel could have. Once he is done the towel is thrown back into the bathroom, which now has the lights off.

Pulling you along with him, Jimin dresses a new pair of boxer briefs straight out of his suitcase and pulls one of his Be a good Human colorful oversized shit through your head, before guiding you to bed. He climbs in first, moving to the middle and pulling you to rest on his naked chest.

“What now?” You ask with your cheek on his chest, hand caressing his skin.

“We enjoy this moment.” He caresses your hair. “We sleep together, we wake up together.”

“Jimin-“ you call.

“Tomorrow, you dump that douchebag, how can he not even realize you were outside in the cold for so long?”

“Jimin.” You say again.

“We’ll wake up, make love again, take a shower or maybe a bath together, eat some delicious breakfast together, maybe have sex, or make love again… I haven’t decided. Then you’ll start to date me.” He says pressing his soft lips on your forehead. “Oh, and we’ll have New Year's dinner with my parents.”

“Jimin,” you laugh, lightly slapping his chest.

“What?”

“What are your New Year’s resolutions?” You ask looking up at him.

“Hm…” he hums thinking for a moment. “Show the world a better side of me, my unique color.” He nods to himself. “What about yours? Besides, try to freeze yourself outside earlier.”

“All of those things you just said. Wake up with you, have breakfast with you, make love, have sex, dump Seunghyun, have dinner with your parents, be by your side, supporting you. Knowing that I’m enough for you with all my flaws. That’s my resolution.” You say resting your chin on his chest looking at him.

There is a heart stopping smile that spreads through his lips, his kiss is soft and short, but you don’t mind. You have a lot of time for more, a whole new year for kisses and Jimin.

Feedback is always appreciated.

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dmclemblems · 2 years

Text

im just thinking suddenly about gw/ag miklan and edelgard like

lol r u fckn kiddin me

they basically implied that the empire had their hands full on the western front (for the entire game in gw bc miklan never dies in gw, only matthias does)

and u got edelgard over here like I FIGHT FOR A NEW CRESTLESS SYSTEM SOCIETY IF U DON’T HAVE A CREST U WILL STILL GET POSITIONS OF POWER U DO SHIT BY YOUR OWN MERIT YEAHHHH

and a little tumbleweed blows by the entire western front like girl are you actually fucking serious right now are you literally murdering people left and right to change a system that right before your eyes has clearly already come apart at the seams in faerghus

like girl you’re literally behind the times get with it you RLY over here talking about a future for fodlan that can “only” happen if xyz but... it... already... happened... outside the empire... which means... if YOU are still having trouble fixing YOUR system AS THE EMPEROR with the supreme power of your country where YOU have the final say in shit... girl... that’s a fckn Y O U problem don’t drag the rest of fodlan into ur shit

now mind you in gw claude also manages to change the system in his country and fix their biggest problems (re: the roundtable during war), which means both leicester and faerghus ain’t havin’ a hard time fixing their systems or the overall crest problem in fodlan

nah that’s LITERALLY an empire based problem if y’all still havin’ a hard time over there bc the rest of fodlan is moving on without a hitch

“but the CHURCH likes their cwest system uwu”

cool seteth actually complimented miklan and has a good deal of trust in his ability at the western front and even got approval from rhea to send their personal soldiers to aid miklan in the defense of the sturdiest fortress in all of faerghus, possibly all of fodlan so what im telling u is that RHEA sent her own soldiers to AID A CRESTLESS COMMANDER WHO WAS PREVIOUSLY DISINHERITED AND DISOWNED and left their lives in his hands bc ya boi seteth has a good opinion of miklan BASED ON WHAT HE HAS SEEN/HEARD ABOUT HIM and ain’t even worried about his crest situation he lookin at the MAN not the crest or lack thereof (mind you this information is shown in ag, but all the routes show the story from a different perspective, which means seteth still had to talk to rhea about sending church soldiers to aid the west and defend from the empire which as i understand it, miklan had the highest authority or at least one of the highest authorities in that area, but rhea and seteth put their soldiers in the hands of a crestless man and seteth found him very capable)

so basically tl;dr edelgard’s entire reasoning for war falls apart completely because it’s literally only the empire having these issues still, two+ years (timeskip+time passed during the war) into all the lords taking full power in their countries. she basically goes to war with all of fodlan to conquer it just so everything is the empire, not to fix the system in “fodlan” because the only system that needs fixing at this point is the empire’s. instead of focusing on fixing the empire’s issues, she assumes the empire’s issues are everyone’s issues and goes to war over it because she can only see what’s happening in the empire.

NOW MIND YOU that two years was spent by dimitri by reforming the crest system and his own private army. he had miklan located before he even knew edelgard was going to start a war. he had him trained in military thoroughly by matthias himself (who has defended against sreng for many years and has the prowess to speak of) and successfully created a private army of commoners. everything edelgard is claiming she fights for was already done and sealed in faerghus BEFORE she even started a war and yet she didn’t even think about the continent outside of anything in her immediate view i.e. the empire’s problems which she assumed were fodlan’s problem, showing how tunnel visioned she is and how if the empire is having problems she’s gonna make it everyone’s problem.

so basically her only goal is to make the whole of fodlan under the empire’s flag and nothing else because the rest of the shit she claims to fight for has already been in progress elsewhere and she’s THAT ignorant to anything outside the empire that she’ll start a continental war over the issues within the empire.

mind you any nobility things in leicester like... nobody cared lmao the nobility protected the commonfolk and the commonfolk lived their lives literally like nobody cared about the system and everyone was fine. the lords at the roundtable argued and shit but like... usually it was just over their own territory and shit, it had nothing to do with crests and erwin was considered HIGHLY loved by his people regardless of having a crest.

erwin rly said like up yours @ edelgard and im here for it this guy is such a vibe and im trying not to like him so much bc of houses but im starting to fail the more i delve into his characterization in hopes ajkdhjasgdj erwin stOP

#Three Hopes Spoilers #is this an im angry at edelgard post? or is this... a miklan is superior post???#or is this... edelgard looks like a damn fool precisely bc our boi mikky is here post?!#edelgard's motivations make me so tired... and i can see why they make dimi and claude tired too #i don't like micaiah but at least she had totally legit motivations #and in fact i hate micaiah and love jarod but i totally acknowledge jarod is the bad guy here lmfao #jarod is like top tier shithead but he's funny about it and he gives damn badass speeches so like #at least with him im willing to fully admit i like him and completely understand he is not in the right #im not gonna defend his bullshit just bc he's funny and badass and has a VERY loyal and interesting sidekick #like those two all in their own are cooler than edelgard and literally they just are like #more interested in their reputation in begnion at anyone's expense and THAT'S THE THING #i like them yes but im not willing to defend their intentions bc i can SEE how crappy they are #edelgard is like... worse ashnard too bc she has the same exact motivations as ashnard to the dot #just in another world/universe/continent with a SLIGHTLY different system i.e. crests but the nobility system is the same #but then you have laguz who have the exact kind of system edelgard would want and they're co-existing with ppl who have #the opposite kind of system i.e. beorc and nobody ever went to war over that between them #they went to war bc ashnard has a same general concept as edelgard except ashnard owns his shit #and he doesn't listen to what other ppl/his actual enemies tell him and take it as the truth #he also runs his own shit and doesn't make excuses for it like... at this point im sad that edelgard couldn't be #as cool a villain as tellius' villains bc it'd have been great to have a badass female villain like them #in such a nuanced game like houses. it's sad that one of the only female villains just couldn't be written AS a legit villain #instead the writers tried to uwu her bc pretty sexy bisexual girlboss when rly they could've just put in an ashnard clone #and i'd have taken that shit over edelgard's headache any day like just toss female ashnard at me and i'd take that #i ain't about to make excuses for ashnard and jarod im gonna like them and im gonna tell the world how shitty of people they are lmao #tl;dr miklan being in this game and his role in it just proved exactly how ignorant edelgard rly is and how much she literally #does not care about anything except being the supreme ruler and can't accept anything else #bc the rest of the continent moved on without her and she didn't even notice apparently #so she just assumed the empire's problems were the whole continent's problems and they were literally not #miklan and erwin both honestly make me gape in disbelief at her sheer volume of ignorance

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diegodog2002 · 2 years

Text

The Wrestling Match

Mitch and Dave had been friends for years. They went to high school and college together. Both had done some amateur wrestling in college and were even on the wrestling team. Even though they were on the college wrestling team, neither one was very good at it. After college they went into the same profession, architectural engineering and design. Mitch designed track housing, while Dave designed custom homes. Both were very successful in their business ventures.

One evening Mitch was over at Dave’s house to watch some television after work and have a couple of beers, as they often did. Dave was dressed in his navy blue dress slacks, and Mitch in his black dress slacks. They had both kicked off their shoes and taken off their shirts and ties, leaving them in their tee shirts. They were watching a documentary discussing new home construction, and future trends. As the program progressed, they took opposite views on the presentation. They voiced their dissatisfaction on the opinion that was being said to one another. Dave told Mitch it was easy for him to see why he designed track houses, the work was easy, and there was not a great deal of imagination put into the design of track housing. Mitch retaliated by telling Dave the only reason Dave designed custom homes, was that the people buying the homes made all the decisions, and he could put the blame on the buyers if something was wrong or did not look right.

By the end of the program some heated verbal exchanges had occurred, and both men were on their feet demeaning the others professional abilities. They had both consumed enough beer to repress their inhibitions, so name calling, swearing, and belittling was inevitable. Dave reached over to Mitch and grabbed his tee shirt the sleeve and pulled it toward the center of Mitch’s chest, causing the tee shirt to rip at the sleeve, down the side, and around the collar. Mitch’s chest was exposed. Mitch was in very good shape. He took pride in keeping fit. He had a light coat of soft blond hair covering his chest and forearms. Mitch was startled by having his tee shirt ripped open, and without even thinking what he was doing, he grabbed Dave’s tee shirt by the ‘V’ neck collar and ripped the tee shirt down the front of his chest, exposing Dave’s well-defined chest and pecs. Dave’s chest was clean-shaven, which showed off his many hours of gym workouts. He liked the feeling of having his shaved chest rubbing against his tee shirt; it always made his nips hard.

Dave and Mitch lunged for each other in one of their old wrestling moves and immediately fell to the floor thrashing around. Dave got Mitch into a position where Mitch was on his back, and Dave was straddling him. Mitch’s knees were bent, and his feet were flat on the floor. Dave’s hands were on Mitch’s knees. Dave pushed Mitch’s knees apart. Mitch groaned in pain as his groin was being stretched. Dave heard something rip. He stopped and looked down at Mitch’s crotch and did not see that anything was ripped. He continued to stretch Mitch’s knees until they were almost on the floor. Mitch had to do something quick, as the pain was becoming intense. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows. He put his weight onto one elbow, and with his free arm, managed to knock Dave off balance. Dave fell to the floor.

Mitch quickly got up and was able to take hold of one of Dave’s legs before Dave was able to move. He bent Dave’s leg and pressed it to Dave’s chest. Unbeknownst to Mitch, Dave’s pants were snug on him. When he brought Dave’s leg to his chest, Dave’s pants could not take the stress. RRIIPP! Dave’s pants tore horizontally slightly near the rear seam. Mitch looked down, saw the tear, and started laughing. He put his hand on the tear. RRRIIIPPP! He ripped Dave’s pants across the butt from the rear seam to the side seam. “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” Dave shouted.

Dave wriggled away from Mitch and stood up. He put his hand to the back of his pants and was able to feel the leg band and exposed briefs at the rip in his pants. Dave looked at Mitch quick enough to see that Mitch was going to head-butt him. Dave stepped aside, and tripped Mitch. Mitch fell to the floor, flat on his stomach. Dave knelt on the back of Mitch’s knees to keep him down. He reached down and grabbed hold of Mitch’s pants from between his legs. He pulled up on the fabric. RRRIIIPPP, he tore Mitch’s pants open. The fabric of his pants tore like tissue paper, but the seams remained intact. The material at the crotch and the inseams were torn apart. Dave looked down at the gaping rip he had created in Mitch’s pants and saw what he heard ripping earlier while stretching Mitch’s knees was actually Mitch’s baggy boxer shorts tearing. Mitch’s balls were showing through the rip in the crotch of his boxers.

Mitch managed to turn himself over and reached under Dave. He took hold of the tear in back of Dave’s pants. As he was doing this, Dave attempted to stand up and step back. The combination of Mitch holding Dave’s pants and Dave stepping back only caused the back of his pants to completely shred across the back, from side seam to side seam. The seat of Dave’s pants was torn open completely, exposing the back of his briefs. The torn fabric hung like an open flap. Dave turned his back to Mitch in an effort to get away and end the foolishness. Only to hear Mitch say in a mocking tone “Nice underwear!” Dave’s briefs were white baggy fitting cotton briefs. The kind of briefs a guy’s mother would have bought, and he wore in school, but never admitted to wear as an adult. They were usually either Fruit of the Loom, Hanes, and heaven forbid your mom bought the cheap brand from JC Penny.

That was all it took, Dave flew down onto Mitch and attacked him. After Dave delivered some good solid punches to Mitch’s stomach, he decided to take revenge on his pants. Dave sat up and grabbed a handful of fabric near the zipper of Mitch’s pants and yanked it. The frail fabric tore open fully exposing his boxer shorts. In return, Mitch took hold of one of Dave’s front pockets. He pulled on the pocket at the same time he was pushing Dave off him. In doing so, Dave’s pants seemed to explode and tear apart from just below his waist band to his knee.

Both men were swift to get to their feet. It was a standoff. Their strength and abilities were evenly matched, and they knew it. Dave put his hand out to Mitch to end their clash. Mitch began to extend his hand, but instead, suddenly took hold of the torn front of Dave’s pants. With one good yank, he completely ripped Dave’s pants apart. Dave’s pants fell to his ankles. In return, Dave took hold of the front of Mitch’s pants, and with the same motions, tore the front of Mitch’s pants. They fell to his ankles also. Mitch was standing there in his crisp white cotton boxers that had little antique cars and trucks all over them. The rip in them was clearly visible. They had torn just below the fly opening to the lower crotch seam. This time though, it was Dave who pointed. He laughed and said, “Nice boxers Dude!”

Once again, they lunged for each other and began thrashing on the floor in their underwear and torn tee shirts, kicking off the remains of their slacks. They rolled over and over and tore the remains of their tee shirts off. Without realizing it, they began rubbing their cocks together through their underwear. They felt each other getting harder and harder as their weight shifted on top of one another. Both of them pretended to make attempts at getting the other guy off him, but in reality, they were enjoying this man-on-man action. At one point, when Dave had rolled on top of Mitch, he paused there for a moment. Dave sat up and straddled Mitch’s groin. He put both his hands into the fly opening of Mitch’s boxers. Dave pulled the fly open, stretching the non-stretch cotton fabric beyond its limits. RRRIIIPPP, Mitch’s boxers tore open along the fly, and completely tore the crotch seam down and through the boxer inseams. He did not stop there. He continued to stretch, pull, and rip the fabric until the boxers were torn loose from the elastic waistband.

Mitch pushed Dave off him and stood up. Mitch’s thick ample cock was at attention, and Dave could not help but notice. Mitch knelt down between Dave’s legs. He could see that Dave’s cock was hard and straining against the front of his now tight briefs. Mitch rubbed and caressed Dave’s throbbing member through his briefs. When Mitch was satisfied that Dave was good and hard, he took hold of Dave’s briefs by the fly, and pulled the fly in opposite directions. Dave’s briefs gave out with one continuous RRRIIIPPP, and were completely torn off his body, leaving just the waistband intact. Dave’s large mushroom headed hard cock sprang up like a flagpole. Mitch saw that Dave’s chest was not the only area of his body that was clean-shaven. Dave was completely shaved clean. The only hair was on his head. Mitch ran his hands up and down Dave’s body, paying particular attention to his cock and balls, and by the lack of any stubble, Mitch surmised that Dave had very recently shaved. Mitch pulled the torn briefs from under Dave. He put the briefs up to his face, in order to get the full musky scent of Dave. He then looked down at Dave to see his handy work and admire Dave’s throbbing dick.

Somehow in all their years together, they had never seen one another naked, let alone with an erection. They stared at one another for a few moments, before Mitch tossed Dave’s briefs aside, Mitch got back down on the floor, and put his head in Dave’s lap taking Dave’s erect cock into his mouth. Dave reciprocated by taking every inch of Mitch’s cock deep into his throat, seeming to want more. They sucked the others hard cock with passion and expertise. In their lust for each other, they realized that neither one of them had ever had such a hard and sustained erection. The two of them had a great rhythm going, until neither one could hold out any longer. They both blew their loads at the same time, with the force and vigor of a teenager. They felt the hot cum as it traveled the length of their shafts. They shot their loads hard and long, overflowing each other’s mouth.

After both men had sucked the other dry, and swallowed every drop of their sweet nectar, they just lay there for what seemed like an eternity. Mitch finally said, “I’m exhausted.” To which Dave’s reply was, “What was the argument about?” “I don’t remember any more!” Said Mitch. “We need to practice our wrestling more often!” was Dave’s response. They both responded “yeah!”

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capseycartwright · 2 years

Note

5. Running their thumb over the other’s hand for the touch prompts?

Buck used to think love should be loud. He’d been an impressionable teenager, and growing up with Maddie, he’d been fed a steady diet of romance movies, and in all of them, love had been loud – loud declarations of forever after, confessions shouted across train platforms and from open doors, love always loud before those characters got their happy ever after.

He’d spent his life searching for a loud love like that, and even when he found what he thought was the loud love he’d been looking for, it had done nothing except make him uncomfortable. Taylor had loved him loudly, in her own way, kissing him in front of all of his friends and showing him off to her friends, and Buck had hated every second of it. It had felt as though it was all for show; that the loudness was meant to prove to the world that Buck and Taylor were a forever-after kind of couple, even when they’d been breaking apart underneath the façade of their relationship.

Taylor had loved him loudly – and Buck had luxuriated in the silence, when it was finally over, broken beyond repair and never meant to last, the two of them forcing a connection into a relationship when it was never meant to be that way.

Buck used to think love should be loud –

And then he fell in love with Eddie Diaz.

Loving Eddie Diaz was nothing short of a revelation. Eddie had kissed him for the first time one quiet evening in the Diaz household, in the midst of one of many conversations they’d been having in an attempt to heal the fractures of their friendship, and Eddie had quietly whispered I love you into the seam of Buck’s mouth and in that moment, Buck knew he was h o m e.

Eddie loved quietly. Buck of old would have thought that was a problem – would have assumed that you could only ever be loved quietly if someone was ashamed of you, because what other reason was there to be quiet?

But – Buck would have been wrong for assuming that. Eddie was open about his love for Buck – had been from the moment he’d kissed Buck in the kitchen and the rest of their lives had begun. He proudly declared to anyone who asked – or didn’t ask – that Buck was his boyfriend, his partner.

(Buck hoped they’d add husband to that list, soon.)

Eddie loved quietly, reassuring in his steady presence next to Buck. He loved quietly, and earnestly, and without pause, and Buck only ever needed to glance to his right to know Eddie was there, the love Buck felt like he couldn’t contain inside of his body reflected in the other man’s expression. It made Buck’s insides turn to goo, frankly, and he couldn’t pretend as though he didn’t love it, love the way that one look from Eddie reassured him that this was a forever-after kind of love.

Eddie loved quietly. He said I love you every day – softly, at night, when they were curled up in bed, or with a smile over breakfast as they herded Christopher out the door – but more than that, he said I love you with everything he did for Buck. Making him coffee in Buck’s favourite to-go mug, just how he liked it. Always lying out a set of clean pyjamas, right from the dryer, when Buck got in late from a shift and reluctantly took a shower. Nudging his leftovers to Buck without a word, always seeming to know when Buck was still hungry.

Eddie loved him quietly, honestly, reassuringly. Even now, in the middle of Bobby’s fiftieth birthday party, Eddie watched, and noticed, clearly spotting that Buck had been lost in thought and coming over to check he was okay, weaving his way easily through their friends and family.

“You okay?” the question was simple, as Eddie stood in front of him, blocking Buck from view of the gathered party-goers – just in case he wasn’t okay. The question was simple, but the meaning wasn’t, Buck realised, the depth of his love for Eddie swelling in his chest and making his eyes water as he looked at the quiet, kind, earnest man standing in front of him and realised that there was nothing else he wanted to do for the rest of his life other than love Eddie.

Buck nodded, swallowing the urge to literally propose in the middle of Bobby’s birthday party. “I was just thinking about you.”

Eddie’s mouth quirked up in the beginnings of a smile as he replied. “Thinking good things, I hope?” he inquired, mind clearly at ease as he moved, leaning into Buck’s side and taking Buck’s hand in his own, twisting their fingers together. Eddie did that a lot – held Buck’s hand. Buck hadn’t expected his best friend to be so physically affectionate, but he was, and more than anything, Eddie liked to hold Buck hand.

Gently, Buck rubbed his thumb over the edge of Eddie’s finger, giving his boyfriend’s hand a squeeze. “Always,” he reassured, and the bright smile Eddie gave in return was enough to keep Buck happy for days.

Buck used to think that love should be loud –

And then Eddie Diaz came along and loved him quietly, steadily, and Buck realised it was the kind of love he’d needed all along.

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911fic #in which lorna writes fic #in which i ramble #in which i write #idk what age bobby is and i'm not checking

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

everything happens for a reason part one - zuko x fem!reader

I am not your concern

masterlist | part 2

summary: as a servant in the fire nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. but as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to learn a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.

a/n: im so excited about this guys you dont even know. i have so much planned and i hope you all love it as much as i do - just for reference, in this first chapter y/n is 9 and zuko is 10

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): mentions of a raid, reader and zuko both being little shits lmao

chapter title comes from not your concern by the hush sound!

Y/N sprawled out on the grass and sighed contentedly as the sun shined down on her and her mother. Today was easier than most as they had been given the day off, an occasion that was rare in the royal palace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent aerating their surroundings. Her senses were blessed with a mix of sea salt and fire lilies, an ever present reminder of the two worlds she walked in.

“Y/N,” her mother chided as she glanced down at her daughter from her sewing. “You shouldn’t lay in the grass like that. You know how hard those stains are to get out; I don’t need even more work on my plate.”

“Yes, mother,” she sighed as she sat up with mock exasperation. “I just feel like I should take advantage of this! We spend all day inside, and now that we’re out here you’re worried about things like stained clothes.” Y/N pushed herself to her feet and spread her arms out as she spun in a small circle. “Life is short, and I already spend all of it sewing and healing. Don’t you think I deserve some grass stains?”

“Did you find your way into the poetry books again?” she joked. “Of course I think you should have fun, but you know how things are here. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She continued to twirl, the soft breeze a welcome sensation on her skin. “I know, I know, but you don’t need to worry! I can—”

“Dear, watch where you’re going!”

Her mother’s warning didn’t reach her in time, a fact that became known to Y/N as she collided into the boy in front of her. A small gasp escaped her as recognition filled her now wide eyes.

“Prince Zuko!” she exclaimed, nervous hands finding their positions as she bowed. “Please forgive me for the accident, I didn’t realize you were there.”

Y/N had never spoken to the young prince directly — she mainly shadowed her mother while she did her work around the palace or honed her healing abilities under the watchful eye of Rika, their most skilled healer — but she knew enough to understand that she was to never disrespect the royal family in any way.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile, alleviating the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either. I actually came here for some help.” As she straightened her back, she noticed the bundle of fabric he was holding. “Are you Kura?”

“Oh, no. That’s my mother.” She pointed behind her where her mother greeted the prince with a respectful nod and smile of her own. “Did you come to get something fixed? She’s the best seamstress in all of the Four Nations.”

“My daughter flatters me,” Kura chucked. “What is it that you require, Prince Zuko?”

“She’s right, actually.” He held up the bundle of cloth which Y/N now recognized as one of the many outfits he owned. She didn’t consider herself a jealous person, but the prince’s extensive wardrobe was an exception to that rule. She had one set uniform for her work supplied by the Fire Nation, and a threadbare set for everything else that her mother had bought for her after saving up what little copper they had to spare. Y/N didn’t mind it too much as she was able to practice her sewing whenever the seams broke, but she was sure that her handiwork made up more of the outfit than the original by now.

“I tore one of the sleeves while I was training with Azula,” Zuko expressed with a frown. “I showed it to my mother, and she said that Kura would be able to fix it. I had to go through every single servant to find you, so I really hope you can. ”

Kura set her current project down and took the cloth from the prince, examining it with the skillful eye of a seamstress before meeting his eyes with another smile. “Of course, dear. I should have it ready for you by tomorrow; my daughter will deliver it to your quarters around midday.”

“Do it well,” he demanded. “I can’t focus on my training if my clothes are falling apart.”

“Hey!” she spoke up, scowling as she crossed her arms. It was like every shred of sense Y/N had disappeared the moment he talked down to her mother. “This is our day off, so you should be thankful that my mother is taking time out of her day to do this for you. Be nicer to her.”

“Y/N!” her mother scolded, her tone frantically apologetic as she turned back to the prince. “Please, forgive my daughter. She speaks her mind far too often, she doesn’t mean any disrespect.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful expression found its way onto the young boy’s features, his eyes trained on her own displeasure. “My father always talks that way to the servants and I guess it came off on me. I’m sorry. It’s not nice.”

“Apology accepted,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to tell all my friends about your work.” The young prince smiled and walked off, though not without a curious second glance at the girl who righted his wrong.

As soon as the prince was out of range, Kura began to berate her daughter. “Y/N, by now you have to understand that under no circumstances may you ever speak to a member of the royal family like that! Do you know what kind of punishment you could’ve gotten if anyone else was around to hear that?”

She sighed and settled back on the ground, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. “I know, mother, but he needs to learn manners, prince or not!”

“That’s not how it works here. Our job is to serve the royal family without question. Sometimes they say mean things, but we can’t do anything about it. Apologies are not yours to demand or accept.”

“That’s not fair,” she mumbled as she wrapped the strand of grass around her finger. “Back home I could say whatever I wanted.”

“I know, honey, I know. But we’re not at home anymore, so the rules there don’t apply. We have to follow the rules that are put in place here. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me?”

“Yes, mother.” It was a phrase that seemed to always be at the tip of her tongue now that constant apologies were littered throughout her days, usually accompanied by a sigh.

“I miss home,” The murmured sentiment was almost too soft for Kura to hear and her heart sank. Her daughter’s gaze was trained on the ground, idle fingers tapping against her legs, and she put a momentary pause to her sewing with a sigh.

“Dear, don’t you have a healing session today with Rika?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled. “It’s my day off, which no one seems to remember.”

“Y/N.” Kura’s voice was more firm and she now understood that it wasn’t so much a suggestion as a demand. “I think you should pay Rika a visit.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh and stood up in a far more exaggerated gesture than necessary. “Alright. I’ll see you later tonight, mother.” And as Y/N began her walk back to the palace, a sour feeling brewed in her chest.

Kura watched on, unable to prevent the fear that permeated her thoughts. They were fortunate that the young prince was generous, but along with his mother they might’ve been the only two who shared those views in the royal family. She hated having to constantly admonish her daughter — the girl was too young to constantly live in fear, especially having already been through so much — but in the Fire Nation they couldn’t afford to do anything less. A spitfire girl like her daughter was constantly treading on thin ice, and it was all she could do to keep her safe.

Kura feared the day when she wasn’t there to protect her.

After a short walk that consisted of muttering things to herself and taking her anger out on the pebbles unfortunate enough to be in her path, Y/N found herself back at the palace. She let herself into a side entrance meant only for servants and set on her way to the infirmary when she collided with someone else — an apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she recognized it was Prince Zuko once more. She truly had rotten luck.

Y/N shot quick glances around to ensure that they were alone, then lowered her voice just for extra security. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I don’t care. Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can just go around bumping into people!” she whispered angrily.

“But— you were the one who bumped into me the first time!”

She could feel her face heat up from embarrassment and she crossed her arms. “Just— whatever! Do you want something or do you just like popping up in places you're not supposed to be?”

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ve never really seen you around before, and you’re interesting.”

Y/N scrutinized him trying to find out if he was tricking her somehow, but after staring at him for a solid ten seconds she finally caved. “Fine,” she said, already beginning to walk. “But you’d better make it fast. I have to get to a healing session.”

He took a few quick steps to catch up to her and frowned. “I’m the prince. Technically I could order you to stop and you would have to listen.”

“Yeah, well when it’s just the two of us, you’re just another boy. I don’t have time to talk to boys for hours.”

His brows creased for a moment as he thought about it, then ultimately shrugged once more. “Okay. You said you were going to a healing session- does that mean you’re a waterbender?”

She nodded, and Zuko waited for her to explain further. He heaved a sigh, realizing that he was going to have to carry this conversation. “Well.. what’s a waterbender doing in the Fire Nation?”

She fixed him with a puzzled look. “I’m a servant. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know that,” he frowned. “But most of the servants here are from the Fire Nation, and there are hardly any around your age. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

Y/N sighed heavily — she now knew that the child prince of the Fire Nation had zero sense of boundaries, and if she wanted to get him off her back she had to answer to his satisfaction. “My mother is a waterbender from the Northern Tribe. She left home when she was young to travel the world and help who she could with her healing, and eventually she fell in love with an earthbender. That was my father — they ended up marrying and settling down in his village where they had me a few years later. Last month, my village was raided by the Fire Nation, and my mother and I were captured after they discovered we were waterbenders. And now I’m here, being annoyed by a prince.”

Zuko frowned once more — it seemed if he continued hanging out with this girl the expression would be stuck permanently on his face — and he suddenly felt ashamed for pushing. “I’m really sorry,” he muttered. “I had no idea.”

She heaved another sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, well they probably keep a lot of the bad things they do from you. It’s easier to send raids to destroy families when your children don’t know.”

“What happened to your father?” he questioned.

Y/N’s body stiffened, and she had never been more thankful to see the infirmary door. “Save your questions for next time,” she grumbled.

Zuko’s eyes lit up, her earlier stumble going unnoticed, and a small smile found its way across his lips. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

She managed to cover up her own growing smile with an ambivalent shrug. “As long as you don’t bump into me again.” Y/N opened the door and gave him a polite parting nod before disappearing inside.

“Good afternoon, Master Rika,” she said with a small bow. “I know this is unexpected, but my mother insisted that I come here to—”

“Let me guess,” the older woman interrupted with a raised brow. “Kura got tired of you and sent you here to annoy me instead?”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pushed the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows. “When have I ever annoyed you?”

“That’s a question you don’t want me to answer,” she joked as she rummaged through the closet to get supplies. “Besides, what was that smile for? Meet a boy on your day off? A girl?”

Her eyes widened momentarily and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks intensely. “I don’t ask you about your life while we heal, you shouldn’t ask about mine!”

Zuko, who had been eavesdropping by the door in an extremely un-covert fashion, felt an even bigger smile. The girl was prickly as a cactus, but he found himself strangely drawn to her — not in spite of it, but because of it. He was so used to anyone he talked to outside of his immediate family and friends bending at the knee to fulfill his every will, and it was exhausting at times. But this girl — Y/N, as he had learned — was the complete opposite.

He started to walk away, sure that he was late for some kind of session of his own. Zuko found himself thinking of the glimpse of a smile he got, already finding himself scheming up ways to make it return.

And despite her request, he was almost certain he would try to bump into her again.

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko fic #zuko #avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #a:tla #avatar fic #atla fic #self insert #reader insert #avatar x reader #sadie writes

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lacheri · 3 years

Note

Okay so... you might not even take requests but I’ll give this a shot anyway bc I love everything you write. I fucked up at work big time today and I feel tremendously anxious and guilty. Which made me think... Levi scenario with gf reader messing up on the field? I know he’d prob be harsh af at first but maybe... some fluff in the end? ): only if you want ofc.

hi nonnie! sorry for taking a few days to write this! but I hope u like it <3 (sorry to hear about your bad day btw ):)

accidents and apologies

pairing: dom!Levi x sub!fem bodied reader

content: canonverse, impact play, mild choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex/creampie, oral (f receiving), some humiliation/degrading, reader is clumsy and Levi is mean, minors DNI

wc: 3.2k

Fat tears sat in thick clusters on the brim of your lash line, a hiccupping sob racking your body. You were as good as dead, having possibly made the biggest fuck up of your military career thus far. Titans seemed like ants in comparison, the fly that buzzes by your ear that irritates you to no end. Levi’s odm gear sat in pieces on the floor, and somehow this loomed over you like the Colossal titan, maybe even larger.

The polish container sat forgotten on your captain’s desk, the wipe slipping from your trembling hands. Your bottom lip quivered, your lungs filling with air quickly as you slumped to the floor next to the shattered metal. Your off duty position of being Levi’s assistant was practically over, it had barely even begun. You had begged for this job for weeks now, only a few days into being his helping hand, you reflected on how poorly of a job you’d done.

It wasn’t enough you had gotten Levi’s tea wrong this morning, adding sugar to the steaming mug, thinking he’d like a change in taste. He didn’t, immediately spitting the liquid out, cursing you into guilt on the spot. To try to make it up to the ravenette, while he was on his lunch, you sat at his desk and began to organize his paperwork by date of importance. You felt pride as you finished with the three piles of stacks, putting fresh ink in his pot for his quill. However, Levi was horribly furious to see what your regret had manifested into. How were you supposed to know he liked his documents organized by date of assignment, not what was most important?

This was the cherry on top, Levi leaving for dinner, mentioning that his gear did need some polishing. Surely, you wouldn’t fuck this up, he thought as he closed the door to his office behind him. How wrong the man had been though. Within minutes, your fingers became slippery, losing your grip on the cold metal as watched in horror as it clattered to the floor, breaking on impact. It didn’t make much sense, how could it have broken? Wasn’t the gear meant to outlast a titan’s grip? Especially Levi’s trusty gear, you couldn’t fathom how his gear was now laying in pieces on the floor.

You sucked back your sob as you heard the creek of the door, your heart falling straight down to the pit of your stomach. Of course Levi would be back before you recite your apology a thousand times over in your head. You heard the thud of his boots hit the floor as he walked over, seemingly calm.

“Oi, what are you doing on the floor?” he barked out, you could feel his presence looming from behind you.

You turned your head up, his face blurry from the rush of tears in your eyes, “Sir, I am so sorry.”

His grey eyes flickered in front of you, finally taking notice of his broken gear. His lips twitched in a deep frown as he sucked in air through his nostrils harshly.

“Get up, cadet,” Levi spoked venomously, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

You hurried to your feet clumsily, trying your hardest to quell your cries from your throat. You faced him, head downturned, attempting to steady your racing heart rate and the tremors in your bones. Whatever control you thought you had slipped from your grasp the second your captain’s lips parted.

“Never in my life have I met someone as insolent as you,” the harshness of his words kept your eyes on his boots, fresh teardrops rolling down your cheeks. Levi was not going to speak to the crown of your head though, and his hand gripped your chin to force your eyes up, looking directly into his own. “You’re going to look at me while I talk to you, understood?”

You nodded, but this was not what Levi was searching for, “Your words, cadet.”

“Yes, sir,” it came out of your mouth as a squeak.

“You want to explain to me why my odm gear is broken?”

“It slipped,” you hiccupped, violently shaking under his fierce glare. “I couldn’t catch it in time. Captain, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he bemused darkly in disbelief. “This is the third time today you’ve fucked something up, and you’re just sorry?”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you were on the verge of hyperventilating as you stuttered your words out.

“Well, now you owe me new gear, and you’re going to personally pay for the expense,” Levi’s hand left your face as he backed away from you, sitting down at his desk.

You looked on in confusion, “Sir, I don’t have any money?”

“Then I guess you’re fired,” Levi tilted his head back as if bored now with the conversation. “You’re relieved of your military duties as well. We can’t afford to have someone as brainless as you in the Scouts.”

“Captain, please,” you raised your voice, arms wrapping around yourself to contain your shaking.

Levi’s eyes darkened, leaning forward to press his elbows on his desk as he leaned his head onto his intertwined fists, “Leave my office, now.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had no home to return to, having left it behind long before you joined the Training Corps. This was your life, your purpose, your friends were here. You finally felt like you had a place in the world here in the Scouts.

“I’ll do whatever I have to!” you begged, not moving a muscle. “Whatever I can do to stay!”

“Are you deaf or just an idiot?” Levi pushed onto his feet, striding over to stand right in your face as he spat. “Leave my fucking office, that’s an order!”

Your bottom lip trembled, and you felt so fucking pathetic but couldn’t stop yourself from one last attempt, “Please, sir. Don’t kick me out, please let me make it up somehow.”

Your brain took a moment to catch up with what had just happened as you were suddenly staring down at the wooden notches of Levi’s desk. He had grabbed your wrists in a fierce swiftness, pushing you face down, his hands now positioned against your spine to keep you in place. His right hand reached around to fumble with your belt, and your heart began to race for other reasons.

“Captain?” you stuttered, feeling him begin to pull off the belts stationed on your thighs.

“You think you can just beg me in that voice, looking like that, and expect me not to lose control?” his voice was thick with anger, but instead of fear, it tickled bouts of arousal in your lower stomach. “Answer me.”

“No?” it came out as a question, you pushed your thighs together as you felt a pulse run through your core as his fingers tickled the exposed skin of your lower stomach. “Sir, I’m confused, what’re doing?”

“Like you have no idea what you do to me,” Levi chuckled without humor. “You begged me to be my assistant even though you knew you weren’t going to be a good one. You think I wouldn’t notice, your little crush on me?”

It was true, so entirely true. Levi had been the object of your affection for such a long time now, taking every opportunity to get as close to the man as possible. If you were being honest with yourself, this fantasy of being bent over his desk was a constant distraction in your mind. He was right, you were shit at cleaning, you were probably the most clumsy person you knew, you really had no qualifications to be Levi’s aide, yet you still asked for the position.

“Then why’d you hire me, Captain?” the bratty words left your lips as it dawned on you, Levi had found you appealing regardless of your lack of qualities.

With a quick motion, your pants and panties were bunched around your knees, Levi’s palm meeting the now exposed skin of your cheek in a caress, “The same reason you’re fucking soaked right now, cadet.”

You stayed in position as Levi brought his other hand to your opposite ass cheek, fingers kneading the fat as he spread you open to his hungry view. He was right, you were dripping. His pointer finger ran down the seam of your ass, laying a soft touch to your hole, watching it flutter in excitement. He couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face, removing his touch entirely.

You whined, pushing your bottom closer to Levi’s hands, desperate for his touch. Your hips were slammed against the edge of his desk, his fingers digging firmly into the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back together. You felt a jarring sting on your backside, yelping in response as you could make out the distinct imprint of each of his fingers.

“You want to show me you’re really sorry?” Levi’s voice was low and raspy as he soothed his palm over the reddened mark he had made. “Tell me after every slap.”

You were able to brace yourself this time as you felt the strike of his hand once more on your opposite cheek, unable to contain your moans at the contact. You squirmed as you felt removal of Levi’s touch leave you, only to bite down on your tongue harshly as he swatted the back of your thighs much harder than he had on your ass.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he spoke ruthlessly as another slap hit your thighs.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, gasping for air from the impact.

“Again,” his hand smacked the fat of your ass again, his other hand smoothing over the harsh red blotches against your thighs in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“‘M sorry!” you were whining, knuckles white from gripping the opposite edge of the desk as you arched your ass up into his hold. Part of you was genuinely shocked over how much you were enjoying this, thoroughly aroused mentally and physically.

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front him. The handprints scattered across your lower half had his cock springing to life, hard and painfully erect. His hands traveled down to your pussy lips, using his thumbs to spread you open. Your hole was drooling, Levi let out a deep groan at the sight. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to have a taste.

You let out a sputtered moan as you felt the tip of your captain’s tongue lick a stripe from your hole to your clit. You pushed your hips further into his touch, thankful he resisted in shoving you back into the edge of the desk this time. His fingers held you open and apart, his taste buds rolling circles into your clit before returning back to your flitting opening, shoving his tongue in your walls. You could feel it fold in half, almost in a cupping motion as he bobbed his head, lapping as much as he could.

“Oh my God,” you whined, thrusting a hand behind you to grasp at his hair. His palms circled to the fronts of your thighs, digging his fingers into the fat as he pulled you somehow closer as he buried his face further into your dripping heat.

You were seeing stars, in between the mix of the pain and pleasure, your brain was completely empty. Levi’s right hand left your left thigh for a moment, coming back with a softer slap, inching his fingers to your center. His pointer finger swirled your clit relentlessly, and your breathing hitched as you were brought to even higher heights than before. His thumb joined not long after, pinching and pulling at your bud as you yelped.

You could feel the beginnings of your impending orgasm as Levi twisted and lapped your walls. The burning churn in your lower stomach became almost unbearable as Levi’s fingers worked faster at your bundle of nerves, full of purpose and intentions. Levi could feel the sudden change, your pussy clenching tighter and tight around his wet muscle. Your arousal was thicker, almost muskier as he inhaled through his nose, and Levi could swear he could drink from your core as if you were the finest of wines.

At the first blinding rush of pleasure, your body preparing itself for the intense promise of release, the ravenette removed all touch. You were gasping for air, your entire body’s nerves tingling uncomfortably. You were aching, desperate for anything.

“Look at you,” the return of Levi’s palm slapping your ass was welcomed with a smile on your face, thankful for any form of touch. “Falling apart that easy?”

You mumbled out a 'sorry', remembering his earlier warning. Apparently this was the word Levi was searching for, spinning you around and attaching his grip to your hips, slamming your sore ass on his desk, shoving his paperwork to the floor. Your eyes widened dramatically, seeing Levi’s cock fully exposed out of the zipper of his trousers. He was thick, his tip red and angry as he moved his fist over his length, a quiet groan leaving his parted lips as he relieved some of his own pent up arousal.

“Open,” he demanded, removing his hand from his dick, extending his palm to your pouty lips. You complied, letting your mouth loll open as Levi’s fingers pressed against your tongue, rolling them around to coat his digits.

He pulled them out with a pop from your lips, returning his now dripping hand to his erection, covering the entire member in your saliva. He gripped the backs of your knees after he deemed himself properly lubed up, dragging you right to edge as he positioned himself.

His grey eyes flickered up, fiery and full of lust, his voice hoarse, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you mewled, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the wood to steady yourself.

Without a moment of hesitation, Levi held your legs up as he slid his fat tip along the slick of your folds. It was so wet, so sloppy, you couldn’t contain the whimper leaving your lips as he pressed into your sopping hole. You could’ve sworn you felt your soul attempt to leave your body as he slid in, resting his tip right against your sweet spot once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the mind blowing pleasure. He hadn’t completed a full thrust before you were begging for more.

“Please, please, more,” you managed out in between gasps, Levi rolling his hips backwards.

“You want more?” he chided, ramming himself so hard, the two of you bounced from the impact. You nodded, unable to voice a single word, drool threatening to escape your lips. His fist left the comfort of your bent knees, coming up to squish your cheeks together, a dribble of spit glistening against your pout, “You’ll answer me when I ask you a question, brat.”

“Yes! More!” you strangled out, muffled from his grip on your face. He let go, placing a very soft pat to your cheekbone, almost as a reward.

“Atta’ girl,” Levi’s gaze turned dark as his eyes traveled from your eyes to the column of your neck. How pretty would you look with his fist wrapped around your throat?

The thought was threateningly persuasive as Levi found himself doing just that, squeezing the sides of your neck as he began to piston his cock between your folds. The sounds of slapping skin and your pussy squelching had you panting loudly, Levi’s fingers pressing harder into the sides of your throat. It felt so good, good wasn’t even the word to describe it. In fact, there weren’t any words in your brain at all, too consumed by the visuals of the ravenette plowing hard into you.

His hand left your throat upon seeing your eyes begin to flutter, his concern for your ability to breathe over taking his lust. Instead, he circled both his arms under your back, bringing you up into a folder position against his chest. He placed open mouth kisses along the curve of your shoulder, licking and sucking at any skin he could reach. Your ankles hooked around his waist, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from slipping a hand to your aching clit.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded into Levi’s neck as your middle finger rubbed hard at your clit, your thick slick coating the pad. You got curious, letting your hand trail further down, exploring the motion of his cock pummeling into you.

“Put your hands on my back, and maybe I will,” he growled out, displeased that he wasn’t the one bringing you total and complete pleasure.

You followed his orders with speed, his head navigated out of the crook of your neck, capturing your lips with a hasty passion. He tasted sweetly sour, the lingerings of your essence resting in the crevices of his lips, but still, you couldn’t get enough of his kiss. When his hand finally left the middle of your spine, and began to travel down to your center, you could feel the bubbles of climax igniting back in your stomach.

“Levi,” you moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved at lightning speed against your nerves, timed nearly perfectly with the pattern of his thunderous thrusts. The desk was squeaking loudly against the floor as he continued to pound into animalistically, moving it slightly with every move.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna’ cum,” you swallowed his words as he somehow sped up his movements, driving you straight to your climax.

You couldn’t even warn him, you barely had time to realize you were cumming yourself. It almost hurt how tightly you had clenched his cock as the pleasure nearly blinded you, unable to hold back swears and moans. Levi kissed you harder, and upon feeling your contractions swallowing him whole, your plush walls pulling his tip right up against your cervix, his hips staggered and his knees buckled.

Levi’s brain went blank as his orgasm was ripped from him, “Fuck, fuck!”

Levi should’ve felt embarrassed at the noises that left his mouth, whimpers and soft moans exiting his throat as he came hard. It was almost too much, the feeling of your wet heat wrapping around his most intimate part, the closeness of your bodies, although still fairly clothed, had his heart hammering in his ears.

When you came down from your highs, all you could was stare at each other in astonishment, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. He rested his sweaty forehead against yours, fluttering his eyelashes shut as he kissed you gently. You let out a sleepy giggle, your body entirely spent. His hand finally left the sensitive skin of your clit, wrapping your fingers around the back of your head as his kiss deepened.

When he finally slid his softened length out of the depths of your pussy, you were hissing at the fluttering of soreness intruding your pelvis. Levi shot you an apologetic look, kissing your forehead.

“Does this mean I can still be your assistant?” you mumbled, a small smile on your face as Levi reached down to pull his pants up.

His head tilted back as an uncharacteristic laugh bubbled out, flashing you a mischievous smile, “Get yourself cleaned up, and meet me back in my office. I still don’t believe you’re actually sorry.”

#levi smut #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi fanfic #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi x reader #tw: impact play #tw: degradation #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot x reader #tw: choking

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harrywritingsbyme · 3 years

Text

A Show

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: I can’t get enough of these Subby wife!Y/n concepts!! I also love love love a good camgirl!Y/n and camboy!Harry read...so I combined the two! This one is hot as fuck...enjoy🙃

3.9k words

When it came to you and Harry, the two of you were always putting on a show. From the outside looking in, the two of you looked like a young and happily married couple. And without a doubt you two were just that. Neither of you could stand being away from one another for long periods of time and the both of you could just burst at the seams with how much love you two had. It’s just that you guys’ relationship had a couple more layers that weren’t exactly obvious to the people around you two and would definitely raise eyebrows if they were.

For starters, you and Harry were in a bit of a dom/sub relationship aside from your “foundation relationship” so to speak. As your relationship together blossomed, you and Harry ventured out into trying things that you’d never even considered doing in the past. After expressing your desire to give being a submissive a try, you and Harry tried it and never looked back. Of course you two weren’t in this space 24/7 and you liked to switch it up from time to time. But for the most part, you were perfectly fine with being subby with Harry as your Dominant. Sure when you two were out and about, you both exhibited some of those dom/sub tendencies, but it was nothing like how you both were at home. If you were feeling small, you were always in his lap or on your knees beside his legs, constantly begging for touches, cuddles, kisses, and his cock. And depending on how good of a little girl you’d been, Harry never minded to give you all of those things whenever you wanted. But if you weren’t a good little girl, he’d either take you over his knee and spank you, making you count out each one, or he’d decide against giving you his cock, no cockwarming and no sex. Also when at home, you’d always be in either a pretty little set of lingerie, or a cute little outfit that you’d picked out. Either way, Harry had complete and easy access to your body at all times. From the onset of you guys’ relationship as a whole, you gave Harry permission to take you anywhere and anytime he wanted. So if you were standing at the kitchen counter, Harry could simply come up behind you, pull your panties to the side(if you were even wearing any) and push his cock into you. And of course, if you weren’t feeling it, you’d simply use the safe word and he’d stop immediately. For you and Harry, this was heaven. And neither of you could get enough of it.

Another thing that wasn’t in the forefront when it came to you and Harry was you guys’ mutual exhibitionism. It was something about the risk that captivated you two and made you want to keep going and up the ante a bit. Now you and Harry are very good at not getting caught. The two of you are pros at keeping your little sexscapades under the radar, proceed to go about your business afterwards as if nothing happened, and have everyone around you think that as well. But whenever there was an opportunity to feed into that exhibitionism, you two always did. For example, last summer Harry planned an amazing trip to Italy for the two of you. He managed to secure a suite on one of the higher floors that was absolutely amazing on the inside, with an even more amazing view. The room had a balcony facing the water and you both took advantage of it all week long. Not only did you two cuddle up in your bathrobes in the morning when you guys ate breakfast or after a night out of taking in the city, you and Harry also had some very loud and intense rounds in that balcony. He’d be giving it to you so good out there. And as he slammed himself into you, he’d constantly whisper into your ear to scream and let the people down below know how good he was making you feel. When you two were at home, he’d make sure to make you moan and scream as loud as possible while telling you that he wanted the whole neighborhood to know what he does to you and how good me makes you feel. When doing movie nights with friends, you’d always cockwarm under the blankets. And if it couldn’t get any worse, Harry had one very large window in his office at work. This meant that whenever you popped in to pay him a visit, the number one, go to spot was right against the glass. Even though no one could really see what you two were doing, there was still a thrill that came from going at it against the window. There was also a thrill when it came to the possibility of someone knocking on the door. Even though getting caught would be horrifying and humiliating, whether it was from down below, or from beyond the office door, it was still a turn on for you both.

Now the third and final layer was a combination the dom/sub side of the relationship and your mutual exhibitionism. The two of you had a pretty sizable following on only fans. At first it was just you. But after things between you two got really serious and you told Harry what you were doing, you wanted him to join in on the fun. It was definitely a bit of a shock to him at first, but after mulling it over and listening to how much more jealous he’d be if he wasn’t included, Harry caved. And seeing how diligent you were about having a measure of privacy when it came to your identity was the icing on the cake. In the beginning of you guys’ “partnership”, Harry’d make an appearance every once in a while, the majority of the time popping in whenever you were live and watching you play with yourself or go on and on about how good daddy aka Harry, made you feel. This sort of pattern lasted all the way up until you guys moved in together. Once you two lived in the same space, Harry was a regular on there with you and he even had some times to himself. This platform that you once had to yourself grew and was even better than before. All of your numbers increased across the board and you both were very happy about that. Harry tended to be more happy about it out of the two of you though; he’d constantly tell you that they come to so see him and to see him rail you with a smug smile plastered across his face as he says it. And to be honest, he was kind of right. Your numbers were good before but they skyrocketed once he came into the picture and the most popular content was the content with the both of you in it. Now even though you two were enjoying yourselves, there was still a balance between public and private times. The both of you loved showcasing your amazing sex life and continuously feeding off of your mutual exhibitionism, but you and Harry also loved ditching the camera and the fans and just being alone together in that space as well. The sex was always mind-blowing, but it was taken to another level when it was intimate. The volume of intimate moments always outweighs the public ones and you two liked to keep it that way. The two of you went as far as to make a little schedule for what content you guys wanted to put out and when. And for the most part, you and Harry stuck to it.

Except for today though.

You were being a brat for the majority of the day. From the moment Harry sat down in his chair at work, your little messages game began. The first one was a simple one telling him that you were missing him already, which he thought was absolutely adorable and made him want to go back home and spend the day with you. After replying with a sweet message, he was able to go 3 hours without receiving any messages from you. In that 3 hour time period, you got some extra sleep and you got some things done around the house that needed to get done. And once you got all of that taken care of, you were on fire and you were riling Harry up. As you were doing a bit of self care you were sending Harry photo after photo, and explicit message after explicit message. He couldn’t get you to stop and he couldn’t stop himself from hardening in his pants. Every picture, message, or even the occasional short little video was more explicit than the last if that was even possible. You were going on and on about how couldn’t wait until he got home and that you needed daddy inside of you. It was so much that Harry couldn’t even leave out to get lunch. He was so hard that he locked himself inside of his office for lunch and took his cock out of his pants to let go of some of that mounting pressure. And even with that, it still wasn’t enough. As if things couldn’t get any worse for Harry, he was so close to finally getting off and coming right home to take care of the situation with you. Where was the problem? The time was moving incredibly slow as the day wound down and the workday came to an end.

Meanwhile, your little teasing session went on all the way up until a little after five o’clock. You sent your final tease to him when the time hit 5 before going into the room that you two had set up specifically for filming. You got the computer all ready, and your new toy from the box. The schedule said that today was your day to do a live performance of you playing with yourself. So you picked out a cute set of lingerie from your collection and put it on before making your way over and onto the bed in front of the camera. You then do a little test in the camera beforehand to see if everything looks good before starting your live stream. And in an instant you were flooded with viewers. Before just jumping right in, you have a little banter with your audience. You tell them in detail about how you’d been a bad girl for daddy today and that you were waiting for him to come home and deal with you. As you do this, you’re toying with your panties and playing with your breasts that were confined to the lacy bra you had on. You then go on to tell them that you were going to play with yourself anyway and just hope that you weren’t going to get into too much trouble, even though you knew for a fact that Harry was going to punish you for what you did to him today. In no time, your panties and bra are off and your legs are spread to expose the sticky area between your legs.

“Do you guys like this new dildo my daddy got me? It’s not as big as him but it’ll have to do.” You say happily, bringing the toy down to rub it against your plushy and very sticky cunt. You begin to tease yourself, pushing it up and down your folds and right against your entrance. Before pushing it into your entrance, your bring the toy up to your mouth to slobber all over it and make sure it was nice and ready. You then start to slowly push it inside, and as you do, your moans get louder from the way you were being filled up with the toy. It was nowhere near Harry, but it definitely felt good.

Now while you were on camera fucking yourself with the dildo, Harry was trying to get home. All of your teasing caused him to slip into his dominant space and he planned on really giving it to you and making sure that you knew how brats were dealt with. He was filled with anticipation and excitement to get home and right into you. Harry tried his best to avoid any traffic so that he could get home as fast as possible. Luckily for him, he managed to avoid a good amount of traffic and get home in less than an hour. He practically throws himself out of the car and into the house where he shrugs his coat off and charges upstairs to you. When he makes it up the stairs, he can already hear your moans echoing from down the hall. He pretty much sprints down the hallway towards the noise, his movement coming to a halt when he finds you spread out on the bed while pushing your toy in and out of your pretty little hole and moaning your little heart out. His mind just goes to giving it to you hard and without any type of mercy. You had the audacity to tease him all day long then play with yourself while you waited for him to come back home. He could see that you were filming but he could honestly care less, if you were going to be a brat, you were going to pay for it. Harry makes his way through the doorway and goes straight to the box that held some of you guys’ toys. Your actions immediately come to a halt when is steps enter the room.

“Daddy’s home!” You announce excitedly, keeping the toy inside of you and lifting yourself up into your claves. While you sit there anxiously waiting for him to come over, Harry picks out the shiny handcuffs that were inside the box. Without saying a single word, Harry completely undresses himself from behind the camera. Even though they couldn’t see him taking his clothes off, they could hear it and they were able to get a good idea of how good he looked from the way you were rocking back and forth on the toy below you. “Missed you so much t-“ You begin, being cut off mid sentence with a hand around your throat.

“How about you shut up?!” He snarls back to you, dropping the handcuffs onto the bed and turning your around into a new position before pushing you back against the bed. He then moves onto the bed, immediately straddling your body to keep you down. Since you were in a new position, Harry adjusts the camera a bit so that the audience could get a better view of you both. “It’s funny how you think that you can just do whatever you want and not get punished.” He chuckles down to you, pushing down on your throat one final time before releasing you. “Think that you putting on your little show is gonna stop me from teaching you a lesson and taking you however I want?” He asks rhetorically, as he picks up the handcuffs and brings his free hand to your wrists. He gathers them in one hand, bringing them above your head and securing them with the handcuffs. “If you wanna be a fucking slut and send me all types of obscene things while I’m at work and then get online and fuck yourself with a dildo, then I’m gonna treat you like a little whore. Understood?” Harry growls above you.

“Yes sir.” You whisper shakily. Your heart was racing and your body was tingly. Even though it was expect that he’d establish dominance over you and do whatever he wanted, everything was live. That meant that everyone was watching as you got punished.

“Now as your first punishment, m’gonna make you gag on my cock.” Harry says, bringing himself further up your body so that his cock was even closer to your face. He then wraps his hand around his girthy shaft and lifts his cock a bit to tap at your lips. Once they open, your mouth is immediately filled with his cock. Harry pushes in and lifts himself a bit so that you’re taking all of him all at once. He wanted to be in your mouth and in your throat. “Look so cute with a mouth full of cock little girl.” He admires through a moan, finally feeling the pleasure he was in need of all day long. After calming down a bit, Harry begins to move himself in and out of your mouth, each time pushing down on your face a little harder and keeping a hand pressed down onto your wrists. The sounds of your little whimpers and gags were euphoric for Harry. He liked knowing that you were stuggling a bit and he wanted the audience to know that you could take anything he gave you. As he continued to thrust into your face, your messages were being flooded with people telling him how he was lucky to have such a pretty set of holes and how good of a girl you are for taking his big cock down your little throat. “Fuck! Such a good little hole f’me.” He sighs, pushing back down into your mouth and grinding his hips down into your face. After a couple more thrusts into your mouth, making them a bit harder than the ones before, Harry decides to pull out of your mouth so that he can push into the hole he was most excited about. Since you were lying on the bed, Harry made sure that the camera was positioned in a way that only showed the lower half of your face. This meant that the viewers could see him pull his slobbery cock from your wet mouth and him on top of you. “Look so pretty babydoll.” He admires, taking in your tearstained cheeks and glistening mouth. “Gonna make you nice and filthy once I’m done with you.” Harry promises, gripping onto his shaft to give your cheek a little tap. He then lifts his body off of you and makes his way down between your legs.

“Need you daddy.” You whine, squirming against the bed as he kneels between your legs and stares at your filled pussy.

“Aww, does my pretty little slut of a wife want her pussy fucked?” He patronizes, swiftly pulling the toy out of your cunt.

“Yes daddy! S’achey down there.” You cry out to him, feeling yourself slipping into your subspace.

“Should stick it in your ass and fuck you like a real whore?” Harry suggests with a cynical chuckle, ignoring your cry out to him and bringing the dildo down to tap it back and forth against your puffy cheeks.

“Please daddy!” You beg, turning your head to the side to take the toy into your mouth.

“And suddenly, my desire to push this into your ass is gone.” He promptly states, dropping the dildo next to you and pushing you body back a bit, moving your face completely out of view. He then pushes your legs back a bit more so that you’re spread even wider for him. “Now are you going to take your pounding like the good little slut I know you can be?” Harry asks, bringing his hand down to deliver a quick swat to your sensitive cunt.

“Yes sir!” You promptly whined, needing to feel him inside already. And with that, Harry lines his cock up with your entrance and slams right into you. When he does this, your eyes roll to the back of your head and the biggest moan leaves your mouth. It felt so good to have his big cock inside of you. He was so big that you felt him in the pit of your tummy. You loved that. Now instead of giving you any time to adjust, Harry doesn’t stop; he goes straight into pounding into you. He couldn’t stop himself, your cunt just felt too good around his cock for him to stop ramming his cock in and out of you. Plus you were being punished which meant that you took whatever he gave. While Harry continued to fuck his cock into you, the audience was going wild. You two were getting an insane amount of tips and messages encouraging Harry to keep on fucking you and to go even harder, and messages for you saying how cute your pitiful moans sounded as you took his cock into your stomach. Harry was making you feel so good right now, his cock was going so deep inside and he was just slamming into you over and over again. You were on cloud nine.

“Y’look like a proper slut now.” Harry hums through a string of pants, taking in your appearance below him and bringing his hand back up to your throat that in turn silences your once loud moans. “Tearstained cheeks, drool coming out of that mouth, a hand around your throat, and m’cock in this delicious cunt of yours.” He points out, beginning to change the pace of his thrusts to more of a one at a time type of pace. He was still delivering those deep and hard blows, they were just a bit slower. As he continues on, Harry shifts his weight onto the hand that was around your throat and brings his now free hand up to the side of your face. Keeping his eyes locked in on yours, he gives you a soft squeeze before drawing his hand back a little to give you a nice slap. It wasn’t extremely hard, but it wasn’t weak either. It was enough to be for pissing him off. As he feels his release getting closer and closer, Harry does a couple more things to make you a bit filthier. He gathers some of his saliva in his mouth and he spits down into yours. From your eyes alone he could tell that you wanted to sallow, but you couldn’t since he had a tight grip on your throat. He then proceeds to do this twice more, aiming for your breasts that he’d neglected this go around. “Fuck m’gonna cum!” Harry grunts, feeling the warm and bubbling sensation mounting in his lower stomach. And before he could even comprehend how amazing he felt, Harry was erupting inside of you. The audience could hear his moans as he came inside of you. Meanwhile, you were on the brink of your release, but given the fact that you were being punished, you weren’t cumming any time soon. You hadn’t cum yet you could feel a tiny bit of a soreness forming in your lower half. As Harry pumped his cum into you, the messages just cheered him on to fill you up with his seed. Once he’s all done, Harry pulls his cock out of you, allowing all of his cum to pour out of you. He then releases your throat, causing you to break into a fit of pants as you try to catch your breath. “Came a lot in there.” He observes, tapping his fingers on your lower stomach before scooping up the cum that was dripping out of you and bringing it to your pebbled nipples.

“Now were gonna sign off now, but don’t worry, we’ll record the rest.” Harry hums darkly before ending the live stream.

You were going to be in for a very long, punishment filled night. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d be ruining you tonight.

Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

libermachinae · 3 years

Text

Notes: baby robot

—

“602 RPS. Fuel pressure 124 over 75. Circuits holding—”

“Prowl, come.”

Prowl glanced up from the monitor for just an astrosec. Mesothulas was standing in front of the CR chamber, leaned so close he was nearly touching the casing, well beyond the limits of safety protocols. Even from up here in the observation deck, Prowl could see the way he quivered, fingers flexing as though he really intended to brush them over the freezing pod. He’d spoken without looking away from it, optics fixed on the narrow porthole, its view blocked from Prowl’s gaze by the glare of the lab’s lighting.

When he looked back, RPS had dropped to 598.

“I can observe plenty from up here,” he said, logging the change along with the rest of the readout flashing across his display. The system would do it automatically, but keeping his own logs allowed him to feed the data directly into his risk analysis programs, their last safeguard against any unexpected chain reactions. Reversal and shutdown commands remained queued and at the ready.

“But he can’t see you,” Mesothulas insisted, still with his gaze on the pod. There was a mechanical growl deep within the machine, systems warming to protect them against the coming temperature snap.

“I’ll introduce myself later,” Prowl promised. He had a script prepared, easily integrated into the standard basic function tests he’d plucked from the ruins of Petrex’s last construction center. It would serve to demonstrate the construct’s ability to differentiate itself from other people and recognize when it was being addressed, provided current readings held steady and they actually made it that far. “I need to keep monitoring in case of—”

“In case of what, Prowl? Our design is without flaw. He’s perfect.” Mesothulas did touch the pod then, yanking away and shaking out his hand when the cold bit back. “We’ve already run every test, accounted for every variable. You said yourself, nothing will go wrong.”

“Because I’m up here, making sure it doesn’t.” There was a hiss as the internal ventilations started to draw out the freezing gasses, and a fog appeared over the porthole as moisture in the air responded to the change in temperature. Mesothulas leaned close again, and this time Prowl decided not to bother worrying about it. “I don’t understand why this is an issue. We haven’t installed its datalogging software yet; it won’t remember any of this.”

There was a lot he didn’t understand about Mesothulas, but most of the time that worked to his benefit, their different priorities allowing them to easily collaborate by taking over parts of each project the other had no interest in. It was rare for them to clash, and if it caused him to add a few extra lines to his spreadsheets as he accelerated his tracking speed, the construct certainly wouldn’t suffer for it.

“He, Prowl. He has his own spark.”

And going by the standards Prowl had grown up with, that put it in the animate category, a step above mechanized but not yet in the autonomous phase that signified life. But that was for spliced sparks, borrowed identities who only became individuals once introduced to a unique processor sequence. He and Mesothulas had gone back and forth on what this meant for the construct, whose spark had been struck from as close to nothing as one could, and Prowl was smart enough to know it was not a discussion worth bringing up now.

“And it’s important because we’re not just introducing ourselves: we’re introducing the entire universe to him. We’re his first impression of everything. I’m not letting you waste that opportunity.”

There was a hiccup in Prowl’s momentum as Mesothulas’ sentiments caused his processor to pick up a memory. Its low priority weighed against the negligible file size meant that despite considering deleting it as it lost relevance with each new change to his life, he’d kept it buried in his archive. The auditory component had become uncoupled during one of his early processor crashes, so all he had left was the visual, grainy with the degradation of multiple transfers and processor upgrades. The file played and his optical feed came online to two Cybertronians, one standing back with a datapad while the other stood closer, his optics fixed on Prowl. They were both talking, but Prowl hadn’t bothered to watch their lips: all his focus had been on their plating, his first thoughts a string of hexidecimal codes as he tried to track all the ways their paint reacted to light and shadow.

It was not a long memory. He’d dropped offline almost immediately, having overwhelmed his processor before his temperature controls had finished booting up, and after that he’d had a specialist team to finish his construction. Though he’d had access to the database, he’d never bothered to go looking up the names of the first two bots he’d seen. Their role in his life had been all but inconsequential, compared to the engineers who spent decacycles making sure his spark and frame could maintain the advanced tactical suite he’d been built for.

“I’ll make sure the construct functions long enough to see any of it,” he said, returning his focus to the monitors. 608 RPS.

He thought he caught a glint of yellow from where Mesothulas stood.

“P—”

“Vacuum seal releasing.”

There was a louder hiss as a plume of white mist escaped the seams of the pod door. Mesothulas jumped away from it, then moved back in as soon as it had dissipated, hands up like he wanted to help the door along as it pushed out and then slid aside on a silent track. More mist spilled out, blanketing the floor around Mesothulas’ pedes, but it was hard to tell whether his slight hop step was from pain or eagerness.

“Surge guards holding,” Prowl reported. “Autonomics steady. Entering second stage bootup.”

Mesothulas gasped and Prowl looked up, concerned, but found himself just as startled. Bioillumination was a hallmark of stage two and not in itself surprising. Even the brilliant intensity, light stretching beyond the confines of the pod, was to be expected, given that they hadn’t installed any code to regulate it yet. Mesothulas just hadn’t told him the optics would be blue.

“Sys-systems disconnecting from external fuel supply,” he stammered, feeling a rush of embarrassment before he composed himself. “Fuel pressure 121 over 74.”

Mesothulas made no indication he heard, and a moment later Prowl realized he wasn’t listening at all: he was talking to the construct, his voice a low murmur Prowl couldn’t hear from his place on the observation deck.

“Entering third stage. Somatic systems coming online.”

The construct turned to look at Mesothulas. Even turned away, Prowl somehow knew the scientist was beaming, his lesson from earlier the only thing keeping him from reaching into the pod and wrapping himself around his creation like he was wont to do with Prowl.

And then Mesothulas stepped back and to the side, pointing up at the platform still without his optics leaving the construct.

“And that’s Prowl,” he said, finally loud enough for his voice to carry. “He’s worked just as hard.”

Those blue optics turned to him. Prowl knew it was only the most basic coding compelling the construct to follow the movement of Mesothulas’ finger, its bare processor unable to even register him as a separate element from his environment, let alone a fellow Cybertronian. But there was something about being caught in that gaze, watching the lenses attempt to focus when there wasn’t enough data yet to tell them what to focus on, that caused him to raise his hand in an uncertain wave.

“You’ll get the chance to meet him later, I promise,” Mesothulas said, drawing the construct’s attention back to him. “Ostaros, we have so much more to show you. You can’t imagine.”

It couldn’t, Prowl mused, watching Mesothulas attempt to link his fingers with those of his creation and pulling away with a hiss at the subsequent reminder. But this period of emptiness would not last forever. Like the science that had formed its impossible spark, the construct—Ostaros—would come into being, something pulled from nothing, a person just as much as himself or Mesothulas. Prowl would introduce himself then, to whoever it was that Ostaros became.

#maccadam #transformers #taraprowl #prowl #tarantulas #mesothulas #springer #ostaros #my writing #ficlet #might put this one on ao3 #haven't decided

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cockasinthebird · 3 years

Text

It was awkward at first, which isn’t much of a surprise to Steve. This is a whole new world for him- how would he ever even go about dating or flirting with guys, least of all Billy Hargrove. Girls he understood, flowers and chocolate and driving them to the mall and carrying their shopping bags, classic textbook stuff that he’s actually quite good at if he had to say so himself.

Hi was all he managed to write to Billy.

Hey ;) was the response.

Nerve wracking, dizzying, nauseating. It left him a mess for that entire weekend, making him incapable of ever even responding to any of his other matches on the apps, because he couldn’t stop thinking about Billy fucking Hargrove. Yet he also didn’t know where to go from there, and when Billy didn’t see it fit to send him a second message, it just died out right then and there.

But there was no relief, no Oh thank God that he wouldn’t have to even try and find out what it’s like with Billy- what sex is like with Billy. Yet the thought of it stayed. Every night, morning, day. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, all ruined by a crown of golden curls, broad shoulders, his musky stench, that ugly tattoo… It doesn’t make any sense to him still, but now whenever he thinks about how firm and strong Billy was, bumping up against him on the court, the way he almost admired Steve in the showers right before calling him a pretty boy, and his voice when he said it… it’s all too vivid now. Whenever there was a moment for it, his idle hands would slowly find their way past the border of his briefs, but after only a few strokes of his half chub he’d pull back with a loud and exasperated sigh.

Come Monday morning and he’s sitting in his car, hands gripping too tight around the steering wheel, students flocking to the front doors of Hawkins High. Yet somehow through the mess of reluctant teens, Steve still manages to spot Billy without even really thinking about it, like a gorgeous needle in a hormonal haystack, jeans clinging to his sculpted ass, the fabric around his thighs looking about ready to tear-

Steve shuts his eyes, squeezing till it becomes uncomfortable in an attempt to forget that he knows what Billy looks like naked; how freckles dust across his features everywhere, how smooth he is, how he’s oh so perfectly waxed-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit.” Of all things that could have happened, Steve sporting a boner at school wasn’t rare but definitely the worst. Especially given the subject of his all too sudden desires.

He had never cared to think twice about Billy when he wasn’t around, and now he’s the only thing on his mind. He can’t go in there like this, can’t face him like this, Steve’s body is too sensitive to even the slightest hint of Billy apparently.

And he’s not going to jerk off in his car, that’s just… sad.

The fact that he makes it all the way home without a single speeding ticket is just dumb, lazy luck, and that he makes it to his bedroom before jerking off for the second time today is just impressive. At least he can still show some self restraint.

But only a little.

For when he’s done and ashamed of it all, he sluggishly drags his feet toward the shower, where as soon as the hot water hits his skin, he’s reminded of the locker room at school. And he’s reminded of all the times he has caught Billy stealing glances, only for those crystal blues to flee once they’ve been caught, maybe spit out a little toxic comment that’s barely heard in passing.

As he now looks down at his fully hard dick once more, yearning to a certain someone’s attention here in the nude, Steve closes his eyes only to be met by the prideful, girthy cock that even when flaccid Billy struts around with like he’s the king.

His lips pursed around a cigarette. His hands as they grasp the ball at practice. His fingers so nimble whenever he plays with a pencil in class. His smile that he flashes to all the girls. His tongue out to swipe as he grins at Steve.

“Fuck, ah-” he bites into his one hand as he cums into the other, white clashing with the pink of the bathroom tiles. And another, “Fuck!” as he slams the side of his fist against the wall of the shower.

Barely an hour passes before he’s hard and ready again, lying on the couch with old reruns of whatever on the tv, his eyes glued to the pics Billy has posted everywhere for his own conceited ego’s sake, and the hundreds of likes and comments he gets, of course.

But it’s hard not to like what you see, when you’re faced with self-confidence like this, and well earned at that considering his Adonis looks and frequent exercise routine. It wouldn’t shock Steve if he found out that Billy could lift him without breaking a sweat.

Actually it thrills him far too much to even consider, as he watches a video on instagram of Billy benching far more than what Steve weighs, and all the blood rushes into his already eager erection at such a speed he gets a little dizzy.

He almost misses the doorbell ringing in his intense, almost stalker-y field of view, and who the fuck even rings anyone’s door at almost 1pm on a Monday. A sigh and rubbing his eyes prepares him for the inevitable greeting of either mormons or jehovah's witnesses, or maybe he’s lucky to meet a travelling salesman who’s got a cure for crushing on people way outside your league.

The bell rings several times as he walks up to the door, and even after opening it up to the warm summer weather, it takes Steve several long seconds before he realises who’s standing there, toothy grin and denim clad with an arm up on the doorframe.

It hits him like a bullet to the heart, the shock of finding billy Hargrove here, in front of Steve who’s barely dressed and-

Billy’s eyes hone in on the obvious tenting of Steve’s green boxers, and that grin spreads into the widest, flashiest smile that Steve has ever possibly seen.

“Is that for me?” he drawls out, lustful and daring.

And it sets the poor trust fund kid aflame, his heart pumping so fast and hard he feels it pulsate in his dick. The blood rushing away from his brain must be making him dumb, because the only seemingly obvious reaction Steve can sort out is reaching for Billy and kissing that smug look from his face.

It doesn’t take Billy long to get in on it; he pushes his way through the door and closes it behind him, strips clean of his denim jacket before tugging off Steve’s shirt. It all happens so fast he can’t even follow, the taste of Billy’s spit and the feel of his teeth biting disorients him to a point where he can barely answer the question,

“Where’s your bedroom?”

With, “Upstairs and to the left.”

Suddenly they’re on his bed, the memory of them stumbling up the stairs as they undressed distant and nearly gone, as the throbbing of his cock has never felt louder than in this moment.

Of all the girls he’s been with, being with a man is… different. He’s nervous, almost nauseous with it, yet has never been more excited, turned on, or harder in his entire life. Hands are everywhere but where he desires them as they push him into the covers, smoothly runs up and down his chest and abs then all the way up to cup his jaw. His face feels wet with kisses and how eagerly Billy licks his lips to taste everything.

It’s a rushed mess yet it doesn’t go fast enough.

“Touch me,” he whispers without thought as he tries to keep up with Billy’s pacing.

“Yeah? Want me to touch you, pretty boy? Touch your hard, long cock?” Billy’s tone almost cruel and rough at the seams, his hands going down to grip Steve’s hips with near brutish strength.

“God yes,” Steve moans at the slight pain, “I want you to touch me so fucking bad- jerk me off, please.”

“Please?” Billy barks out a laugh at that, “Those bitches you fuck into all that nicety? Please and thank yous.”

“They love it,” Steve says with confidence that can only come from personal experience.

But it only makes Billy laugh more as he pulls away. He sits up on his knees, cock hard and thick where it stands at attention between his muscular thighs. “That won’t work with me, princess. Don’t gotta ask like a good guy for me to fuck you, just say it and I’m here.”

“How easy of you,” the words are out before Steve even thinks about it. The rivalry they have is still new and fresh, it can barely be helped, and for a moment he fears that he has ruined the moment.

Yet Billy doesn’t move away. He slowly licks along the arch of his upper lip, something deep and primal in the way he stares, and a hand runs through his golden locks to push them away from his irritatingly handsome face.

“Look who’s talking.”

In a rush that seems natural to Billy, he flips Steve onto his side before laying down behind him and pressing the head of his wet dick against the crevice of Steve’s thighs.

“Wait!” Steve almost shouts as the churning of his stomach makes him sick with worry about the more technical functions of… this.

“Don’t worry baby,” Billy’s voice all of a sudden like silk, a range so odd and unfamiliar compared to his normal boisterous attitude, “I’m not gonna pop your cherry the first time we do this. You got me too excited for that, don’t wanna wait while I prep you like you deserve,” he whispers against the shell of Steve’s ear, and it eases every single worry he had.

“Oh…” The pent up nerves in his stomach vanishes, like a knot coming undone, every single muscle in his body relaxes into the sheets.

Well, almost every single muscle.

“Yeah, oh,” Billy chuckles and rubs his nose against the back of Steve’s neck, kissing his back. “I can be a nice guy, too. You don’t gotta worry bout a thing, just let me take care of you.”

Today has been… a long, confusing mess. From the boner he woke up with after dreams of Billy, to the one in his car, the one in his shower, the one on the couch, to the way Billy so rudely shoved his way into Steve’s personal space, up the stairs, onto the bed. Rude and hectic from their first kiss till now. Now he’s… nice? Steve feels a fool for falling for it, but at least he’s aware as he lets down his guard and allows for Billy to… do whatever he pleases.

Is this how girls feel whenever a hot guy is nice to them? Whenever Steve is nice to them? Doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

So he nods and hums a light agreement.

“Good,” Billy hums, too, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl in the best way possible; the shivers down his spine almost delightful as they go straight to his dick.

And when Billy gently pushes his heated flesh in between Steve’s thighs, the wet pre lubing up the skin perfectly, it’s weird and foreign, but also impossibly erotic and thrilling, and suddenly all Steve can think about is how Billy’s cock would feel inside of him.

It’s no lie that that’s something he’s thought about before - not necessarily with Billy mind you, just in general when sliding into a soaking wet pussy, he’d often get almost lost in thought about what that feels like, and if this is any indicator of it, he’s even more eager for it now.

So eager he can’t help the long, breathy moan that escapes him as Billy moves into his embrace till they’re lying flush together.

“That good huh?” Billy whispers from behind, and Steve can only imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Rather than responding he moves, closing his legs tighter and grinding back against Billy, as to test his own boundaries with all of this - which has been something of a win, considering he really went from his first kiss with a guy to this within ten minutes or so. And the way Billy groans all pleasant and pushes harder into their meeting of skin jolts through Steve’s cock like a bolt of lightning making him spurt out pre.

“Yeah, keep your legs just like that,” Billy speaks uncharacteristically soft as he moves one hand down, his burning hot palm smoothly moving over a thigh and staying there for leverage, as he starts rocking back and forth. In and out.

Steve’s breath stutters and he can’t help but put a hand over his mouth. It’s not uncommon for him to be overly vocal and enthusiastic during sex, but this felt… almost embarassing, the kind of blithe and soft coos and moans rather than deep, throaty groans making his cheeks red.

“Don’t do that.” Billy moves his hand up to grab Steve’s and intertwines their fingers. “I wanna hear you. Let me know what I do to you.”

His cock throbs with urgent need at those words. Such a deep, baritone voice that excites Steve to a fever pitch, his body burning up where sweat gathers down his back between them. It’s gross and stimulating all at once, as Billy thrusts between his wet thighs and holds him close, he feels like a virgin again.

And maybe that’s why Billy is treating him so kindly. Not that he disagreed with the fervor earlier, how crude it was to be manhandled like that, but this? This gentle rocking of their bodies as they together find harmy in the rhythm, it’s intoxicating. Steve barely even notices when his own hand sneaks down to wrap around his hard length, so lost in the moment he can’t think straight, can’t stop the sighs and moans that spill from his body as he melts into Billy’s embrace.

“That’s it,” Billy speaks softly like summer rain, “God you’re so fucking hot. Can’t tell you how long I’ve admired you in secret, thought about every single mole and freckle as I jerked off at home. This is all I’ve wanted for so long, I thought I was dreaming when I saw you on the app.”

Steve wants to respond, wants to say something like, “How do you think I felt when we matched,” but his mind is a fog of euphoria, barely able to even hear what’s being so dearly and honestly said as he can’t focus on anything other than the slickness of Billy’s cock hitting the back of his balls, nudging him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Your thighs are so nice and soft, clenching around me just right, arh, you feel so fucking good, princess.”

When Billy speeds up, Steve naturally follows along.

“I’m so close.”

Steve, too. The pent up feeling that’s been quickly building to an unbearable pressure point is becoming too much, hot and ecstatic like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“Wanna cum between your legs so bad, baby.”

“Ah- please,” Steve finally finds words and it comes out like a pathetically needy little whine.

He wants to wait- wants them to cum together like he’s seen on porn as fake as that might be, but it’s a sudden and rampant thing, blinding him with fireworks behind his screwed shut eyes. A feeling that can’t possibly be expressed in any other way than a loud, prolonged, almost shocked moan, as he cums into his own hand that he jerks with ardent intensity.

Whilst not simultaneous, Billy is not far behind; urged on by Steve’s alluring keening he sped up his thrusting and grinding like he’s in a race for the finish line himself. And it would be kinda humorous if it wasn’t so hot how hard he slams into the gathering of warm, soaked flesh. Oh how he pounds into Steve with all his sweaty might, grunting and groaning till he cums with a loud and lustful moan, his hand still holding on to Steve’s with a near crushing passion to it.

And then there’s silence, as they breathe out together, muscles relaxing, dicks flaccid and sticky with cum. It’s warm and nice and cozy, but it’s hard to enjoy for Steve.

Is Billy actually this nice, or was it just a play to get off? Did he do to Steve what he does to every other bitch that he gets with? What now? What’s next? Are they gonna be a thing or just friends with benefits? Wait, are they even friends? Fuck buddies maybe? All the thoughts that he didn’t have time to be anxious about before comes rushing in fresh and clear in a post-climax-clarity moment, and it stirs the pit in his stomach alive again.

When Billy squeezes his hand gently, and asks, “What are you thinking about?” whilst nuzzling into the nape of Steve’s neck, kissing him lazily as if almost asleep.

It… helps. The thoughts aren’t gone per say but they’re in the distance now, and all it took was a simple question- a sign of caring.

Steve turns around in bed to look at Billy’s drowsy expression, before answering, “Thinking about taking a shower. You wanna come with?”

Billy’s nose furrows and wrinkles as he peeks out past ruffled curls. “Can’t we stay like this a bit longer?”

It makes Steve’s heart beat different.

“Sure.”

#Harringrove #my writing #lemon

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