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#i’ve been working on it for like. two weeks but i’ve been wanting to draw it for MONTHS
semischarmed · 22 hours
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River
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River was a walking enigma. 
Instagram, TikTok, Facebook- hell, I even tried looking for a yearbook. Nothing. I had nothing on the guy. Like an illusion, he merely appeared, did his work diligently and then promptly vanished. In fact, his most common phrase around the office was a “Sorry, I can’t- busy.” His distance seemed to put some people off. That only made me want him more.
When Chelsea threw a quitting party, he dropped in, chatted for a few minutes and then left without saying goodbye- except to Chelsea. He wasn’t rude by any means. I’ve only ever seen the guy be polite. I personally found it quite hot. His mysteriousness brought an allure about him.
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During another quitting party- a dinner for Mark this time, I tried to make conversation, asking him why he was named River. I actually asked the question in a few roundabout ways. Most I ever got was a “just what my parents named me- they thought I’d have brown hair”. I tried to pry for his hobbies, asked what he did for fun and he only responded with a “I watch baseball, go to the gym, watch TV. I guess”, before asking me about mine. The conversation was cordial, and probably a little boring, but I was captivated. This had been the closest I ever sat next to him. 
My breathing quickened, ever so slightly, as I watched his shirt struggle to contain the form within. I traced the vascularity in his hands, the craftsmanship in the sculpt of his neck, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut when he would reach to grab a napkin. There was a full plate of food in front of me but I was only salivating at one thing.
The conditions were not ideal- but what choice did I have? The guy was like a ghost. I laughed a bit at the irony. I sat right across, trying to filter the scents and the sounds of food and camaraderie to focus on him. This would take all my brain power. I steadied my breathing and sharpened my focus, as I continued to answer and ask mundane questions about some work projects we both had. I started my work, mimicking every microexpression, every slight movement. I tailored every word from my mouth- even my delivery to slowly match his. This had to be subtle, of course- I’ve found out the hard way in the past how creepy this process could look in public if done too quickly. 
River’s eyes blinked slower, like a haze was forming in his mind. I followed suit, weaving my slight impersonation in and out of our conversation. Like a pulse, I felt our movements begin to sync. Almost there. Now came the tough part, slowly drawing him out and isolating him without lo-
“C’mon, let’s all get shots- uh… River you ok bro?” Mark asked.
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He shook off his daze, surprised at himself before laughing off the weirdness. 
I was pissed the rest of the night, forcing myself to hide the permanent glare I would have worn for Mark. 
As the night drew on, River left early- of course, and I continued on, staying a bit longer to wish Mark well in one final toast for the night. 
That would be the last time in a while I’d be so close to him. The following drought was unbearable. For the next few months, no one quit. No big holidays were coming up, and our office wasn’t much for parties. Instead, I had to satiate myself with glances and the occasional short conversation.
= = = = 
“Does that work for you two?” My boss asked. I nodded readily, eyeing River’s response. Another nod.
Fuck. I practically jumped when the boss said those words. A presentation. A presentation with River. A chance.
I think I deserved an Oscar for my acting in the few weeks after we were both tasked with the presentation. A wrong font here, corrupted save there, a missed chart. I “worked” tirelessly on the presentation with River, making sure to leave enough mistakes and gaps to drag the process out. 
The guy was too polite, and I knew I had to use that against him. I ran the clock, watching the days progress into weeks and his brow furrow as stress deepened. Of course, I had to play my part, acting innocent at every step. A quick “sorry” for every mistake I planted was enough to ease suspicion. I even faked a confession about roommate drama causing my decline in performance. I thanked how private he was in that moment- I lived alone. Ever the hero, River was quick to take on the responsibility- even covering for me on few occasions. I knew I had to get inside this man.
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Then came the day before the big presentation.
“I- uh… okay. Maybe we can finish this at my apartment,” He stated, clearly uncomfortable. I held back a moan.
= = = =
“You can set your stuff down there”.
It was a bit boring compared to what I expected. He was definitely put together at work, so it was a bit surprising to see some mess littering his apartment. 
A few posters dotted the walls. Some basketball guy, I guess. An action movie. A generic college banner. His furniture boxy and grey, and the carpets running through the floors were in need of cleaning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his kitchen was pristine, practically sparkling, aside from a small collection of protein powders and supplements. 
“Uh.. sorry I don’t really have any snacks.”
He sheepishly opened the near-empty fridge and offered me a choice in drink. Some kind of pre-workout beverage and water. I took the water. 
“Okay, I need to head to the gym for a bit. You still have a few slides you wanted to add, right?” A Hoodie-wearing, duffel-toting River asked. I nodded, trying not to look too eager and straining to keep my eyes from staring at his well-defined legs. 
And then, there I was. Alone in River’s apartment. Alone with River’s apartment. I ran to his dirty laundry pile. 
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“Mmmphhhh” My eyes rolled back as I took the deepest inhale of my life. These were River’s boxer briefs. The same ones he had just worn. Doused in the scent of a day’s work. It was damp- guess River was a sweaty guy, though the long walk and couple flights of stairs to get to his apartment may have also been culprit. I was paralyzed in bliss, as I took in every note of his natural musk. 
It reverberated deep in my chest as I continued to circulate every ounce of River I could inside me. The underwear was practically glued to my nose and mouth before I finally relented and drew them away, gasping for air. Exquisite. 
My dick jumped at the sight of a single strand of his pubic hair, like flickering flame. A perverse smile planted itself on my face as I gingerly pulled my clothes off. I shivered as the cold, damp fabric that had just touched his bare flesh was now touching mine. I felt his hair on my flesh, now caked in his sweat. The elastic snapped around my waist as I released, a bit tight. My breaths fell shallow, ragged as I sat there basking in his cold embrace.
Next came the tank top. I mentally hit myself for not putting it on first, as it was a significantly less erotic experience. Still, as I slipped my arms through the holes that his once filled, my dick couldn’t help but twitch in approval. 
I ran to his bed, gripped his sheets, and stifled another moan with his pillow. This man had, until today, been a full on mystery to me. And now, here I was- deep in the recesses of his apartment, nestled in the indent on his bed, buried in fabric stained with traces his scent and natural grime. I was drowning in the all aspects of his daily life. It was an intimacy with River previously unheard of and practically a miracle I hadn’t cummed yet. 
The next few moments were sluggish, mind hazy and drunk in pleasure, as I wore my jacket and pants over the River clothes I had already had on me. I mentally thanked myself for wearing tighter clothing earlier today, as I felt them compress River’s undergarments tighter on my flesh. I walked back, sitting on the dining table and pretending to work.
A few minutes later, the door clicked open and a panting River waved. He no longer had a hoodie on and left nothing to imagination. I eyed the feast before me.
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I fucking knew it. This kid was ripped. 
I salivated as my eyes followed every contour of the body that would soon be mine. His flesh was flush and glistening with sweat.
“M-must have been some workout,” I mumbled. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.
“Yeah, fucking kicked my ass today,” River said with a short laugh. My dick twitched. River never swore, never gave off a jockish vibe at work, but here he was, beaten tired and unable to contain his natural state behind a facade of politeness. 
My lip quivered when his post-workout scent wafted into my nose. It was divine. True to his name, River had an earthy, deep musk about him. A delayed, almost sour afternote followed, the kind that clings to the nose. It riled me up, knowing this offensive, raw blast of testosterone had been working next to me for the past two years, hidden by layers of work clothes and pleasantries. River was cleaned, masked and sanitized for corporate America. And now I had a private showing to it. I was feral. I wanted-no, needed to be piloting this hunk for myself.
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My trance was broken when River dropped to his couch, laughing slightly. This wasn’t his normal laugh- it dropped all pretense and I recoiled out of reflex, thinking back to that same laugh that emanated from the football jocks back in high school. 
A lazy pair of eyes drifted up to meet me. “Sorry bro, just new a few minutes.”
I gulped. This was my chance. No need for precision, no need for focus. River was vulnerable. In any other circumstance, I’d be syncing to his movements, slowly, imperceptibly altering his as he would start following mine. Then I could pull him into my trance, lead him to a safe area as I continued the process. This was different. River served himself up on a platter for me, beaten to near immobility by his workout. No way was I gonna miss this. I stripped quickly, abandoning my original plan.
Without a word, I walked closer to him, grabbing his wrists. 
“W-what are you”. In that instant, i jumped on top of him, allowing my body to follow the contours of his.
He grunted in defiance while I began to grind in pleasure. “Ughhh! Fuck bro. I can’t! I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be River!” 
The process was quick- his drenched, energy drained flesh practically grabbed at mine, drawn by my own energy into itself. It was osmosis. I moaned as I saw the process start, and River’ meaty form encapsulate my own. His arms and legs splayed as he screamed at the intrusion. “What the fuck are you-“ He grunted in pain as he felt our two forms begin to meld. I laughed a perverted laugh, eyeing how deep I was inside him. His lack of energy had been his downfall.
I licked the inside of his head, feeling him shiver and whimper at the intrusion. I whispered venomously. “What am I doing?” I thrusted myself deeper into his muscled form, “I’m becoming River. I’m gonna wear you like a fine red suit.” I felt my facial muscles match his and pulled him into a smile he did not intend to make. “You boring prude. This body was built for sex. You’re starving this poor thing. I bet it’s backed up.” I whined in half-whispers. “Let me take you for a ride.” River moaned in horror, kicking his legs into the sofa in discomfort as his muscled back began to close over me. Possessing the ginger felt like a warm, dank hug. “You feel that?” I teased, this time his voice mimicking mine. He could no longer respond as it had become my mouthpiece. Instead, his head repeatedly slammed the sofa in resistance, forced to wear a smile that was not his own. 
I laughed, feeling our combined chest heave in deep pleasure as I jammed my fingers deep into each bicep. I drilled into each arm, relishing in feeling his muscle fibers slip past me. Power. He shook as he tried in vain to resist my fingers filling into his. Putting on those vascular hands like well-fitted gloves. “Fuck yeah bro… that’s the stuff. Dominate me. Command me. Control my every move. My nerves are itching for their owner. Put this ginger meatsuit on…” I mock in his voice. Tears welled in my eyes, as I felt him continue to slam our slowly merging head into the sofa. I purse our lips before moaning further. “Wear my clothes…” My legs wove into his, twisting and binding into one. “Wear my personality…” the bottom half of our merged face laughs, while my new eyes blink away angered tears. I felt his memories begin to flow and surround mine. His rage and desperation flowed through me. The slamming slowed, coming to a complete halt as a reborn River’s eyes blinked into a lewd, sinful glee. “Wear my life.”
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I stood up, piloting my new body towards the mirror. “You’re still in there, aren’t you?” River’s outward defiance no longer showed over his perfect flesh but his mind was a raging storm. “Good.” His body lit in searing pain, sore muscle tendon and fiber forced to flex. I felt the storm calm as he was stunned. I myself winced slightly before my arousal imprinted itself through River’s face. This was my pain now. I could feel every fiber of his musculature tearing and repairing themselves. Building back stronger with the pre-workout mix he had drunken earlier. Building back with me embedded deep inside. Our leg wobbled in pain, before I slapped it back into submission, forcing it to flex. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff.”
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I roared and patted my new chest and abs. “YEEAAAH!” Just one last piece of me was left. An intentional dessert I had left not internally bonded with River. 
I let his normally stoic face relay the erotic pleasure I felt in wearing this flesh. I then pulled a “serious” face, bringing pained biceps into a flex. “We gotta live up to our name bro… gotta let the river flow”. A greedy tongue licked the dripping sweat hanging off ginger hairs of his armpit. I wanted to savor this. The tangy, salty nectar lingered in our shared tongue before I began to make out with my new reflection. With a grunt, I slammed River’s pelvis into the mirror, groaning as my growing hard-on began to fill into his dick. At first contact, I felt our senses mingle and the cold metal of the mirror. I grunted, trying to reign in the lust. With our linked sensitivity, I could feel my original body’s dick worming itself into my soon to be River-flavored cock. I thrusted my rod up, relishing in the soothing bare metal beneath the perverse cock and cock sleeve combination.
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I grabbed at my new rod with one hand, while the other greedily dragged across my new body, feeling every new muscle and crevice and damp piece of the hunk. River thrashed inside me, disgusted at feeling his own flesh violate itself. At watching this new carnal entity that wore his face and name.
“S-someone’s gonna find out. Someone will fix this” He threatened in my mind. 
“No bro… you’re the perfect host. No one at work knows a thing about you”. I cooed in his voice. “When we quit, when I take this thick ginger cock for a joy ride-“ tug “No one…” tug “No one will know.” I groaned as the last of his dick bonded to mine. We were complete. “I’m River now!” I shouted before devolving into whimpers of pleasure as I felt River’s warm seed stream out of me. 
River’s softening, sore wood was forced back into full mast as I eyed the full extent of my- now his- depravity. Not wanting to waste a drop, I smeared my new lotion onto my new flesh, caking in layers of his drying sweat with layers of drying semen. I could only hear gagging in my mind as River was forced to taste his own produce. It’s my body now anyways, why shouldn’t it reek of sex and his natural musk?
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nattcatart · 1 day
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Emergency commissions!!!
0/612$
For some background I’m a 22 year old trans guy who is currently trying to make it through nursing school. I’ve had a really rough go financially and in life the last few months- I had to get emergency thyroid surgery in the middle of my first semester of nursing school- and my grandmother was murdered just two weeks after my recovery. This has led me to being out of work for a extended period of time due to the stress of surgery recovery- now having hypothyroidism and grief- all ontop of school. So I’ve been surviving this semester paycheck to paycheck without getting to get a lot of money in savings.
So my college just informed me that my scholarship will not be able to cover my summer semester- I am required to take summer classes to stay in the nursing program. The total that I’ll have to pay in two weeks is 612$.
I don’t typically ask for help like this but I’m at a loss at what else to do- so I’m going to open up emergency commissions.
Here are some examples and starting prices. The way I’m doing these commissions is the starting price is the lowest price I will accept for that commission style- and if you want to pay above that feel free! These commissions will be discounted due to the urgent need of this situation
I can draw pretty much anything! I mostly do dnd character art- and flight rising dragon art- but I’ve done a wide range of commissions in the past! I’m comfortable with furries- robots- humans- animals.
Prices start from highest to lowest!
Full scenes: 45+
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Painted fullbody basic background: 35+
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Character reference sheet/ fullbody with no background 20-30+
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Half bodies: 15+
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Headshots :5-10$+
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These commissions will have a long turnaround time! Can’t start working full time on them until after finals on may 13th. I will try my best to provide sketches before then ! Please don’t commission if this timeframe does not work with you!
Can do PayPal/cashapp for payment
If you can’t afford any of these options feel free to message me! I’m willing to do sketch commissions as well!! Thank you for reading this far down and let me know if you have any questions
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tarteggs · 4 months
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room 276
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jutsuuu · 8 months
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girl help I’m experiencing
#weird addendum but pls don’t reblog my vent posts??? why would you even want to????#everything has been So Much lately and I wasn’t gonna vent but then I remembered this is my blog and I can do what I want#one of my best friends left the country last week and he’ll be gone for like two years and I’m so sad without him around#I mean he’s been messaging me every day since he left but it’s still hard not having him here yknow?#and I’m moving into his place but it requires a lot of work before I can so I’m always exhausted#and my joints have all but given out on me completely so I’m always covered in KT tape and braces#which doesn’t gel very well with moving furniture and heavy boxes#and I have no money so I need to be job searching but I can’t do that until I move. BUT I NEED MONEY TO MOVE#on top of that my grandpa died and there’s so much family drama involving that it’s unreal#and weirdly the thing I’ve recently felt bad about is I’ve been neglecting my self imposed Fandom Duties#maybe not fandom specifically but like. creative duties#I want to write fic. I want to draw. I want to read and comment on other people’s stuff#I also really want to do more of my non fandom writing because I want to get something published this year. but i got no good idea aaack#or early next year#and I’ve just had like. no time at all to do any of it and the time I have had I’ve been too drained to do it#ughghghghghghggh#I think today I will drink and try to write something. as a treat.#after I go on a reblog spree to bury this because emotions are very embarrassing#anyway how are you?
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janamensch · 8 months
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Possessed Part 2⚔️
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sharkieboi · 2 years
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i’m simultaneously riding such an emotional high and being extremely depressed in that there’s so much in my life going well right now but also all i do when i get home is drink and go to bed
#shhh sharkie#like i’ve got so many creative projects going right now#i’m sewing im painting im playing dnd im making bracelets#but also i can’t bring myself to draw for october art challenges im just so art blocked there#and work was getting to a point that i was legit weighing whether to stick it out or jump ship#but a lot of things have clicked into place in literally the past week that im like no i actively want to stay and see this shit through#and i’m finally gonna be able to bring this bird home!!! i’ve been prepping my house and her house very extensively and i’m so excited!#i think having a lil creature in my house that i have to take care of but also is social and wants to hang with me is gonna be so good#and also also consistently being on T again has been making me feel so much better#but also like i feel like i’m just. not utilizing my time or connections?#i don’t hang out with my friends until they contact me first usually#i had a sorta date but it turns out she has a boyfriend but also they’re open but also she’s looking to be with women more now#but also i’m maybe an exception? idk??? and i haven’t texted her back and that’s literally my worst trait is im terrible at texting#so it’s on me but also idk what the vibes were???#i should just ask outright shouldn’t i.#either way. i feel like im fucking everything up but also im at my peak and i vacillate between those two emotions every twenty minutes.#someone just come smack me or smth
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faglaios · 1 year
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:(
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kentopedia · 5 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI
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fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words
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“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss. 
he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live. 
cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.
he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.
“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.
“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.” 
a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.” 
“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."
normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks. 
levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”
you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice. 
levi makes his way towards the door. 
“levi?” 
he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t. 
but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought. 
you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.” 
he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
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within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting. 
he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter. 
no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle. 
levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess. 
their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say. 
his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first. 
“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.
armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”
levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red. 
he should've known.
“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.
“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."
levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you. 
“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”
eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice. 
or so he thought, anyway.
historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness. 
“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”
levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.
eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned. 
it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety. 
“how long have you been together?”
“does she actually like you?” 
“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.” 
“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.” 
“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.” 
"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.” 
“five—” 
a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.
levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.
even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.
he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.
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gamermattsgf · 27 days
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“Cool spider…” // Tattoo artist Chris
Warnings: sextape / colleague relationship / favour for a favour trope / riding / petty Chris x reader / nose piercing!Chris / spanking kink / mommy kink / slight breeding kink / tattoo!Chris / praise kink / ownership kink / degradation kink / ‘good girl’ / creampie / unprotected sex / hair pulling / exhibitionist kink / scratch kink / tit play / overstimulation
Summary: you and Chris both work in a tattoo & piercing gallery, and your toxic ex just won’t leave you alone… so Chris decides to shut him up and put him in his place.
Author’s notes: I’m baaack. someone’s seriously got to stop me from making up fics on stuff that I’ve just randomly yapped about and blogged for fun. Me: posting about tattoos I’d think Chris would look good with. Also me: ‘-now hang on a sec that’s actually given me a great idea…’ *pulls out a notebook and starts vigorously writing shit down*.
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“Gotta know, I ate her, she's so sweet, now or later. I want that all the time, all the time I'll make you all mine” - Toes Down, Loukeman
. ♱ .
You sigh, checking your phone once again before flipping it back around to face the desk. You shake your head and put it into your hands to rub it slowly in exhaustion. This is the fifth time he’s texted you today and your patience with him was slowly thinning.
‘You good?’
Chris mumbles absentmindedly from his hunched over position at the counter. He has his shirt off - as he usually does - to keep himself cool as the ceiling fan whirls above your heads. You look at his back, and the way his light wash blue jeans wrap around his lean waist lowly.
His right arm moves languidly as he sketches out a stencil for one of his clients, the graphite of his lead pencil scratching against his favourite sketchbook soothingly in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the tattoo parlour.
You admire the jet black ink adorning his torso, that stretches from the bottom of his spine to cover the expanse of his shoulder blades in jaggedly aggressive patterns, the back tattoo attractively sat over his otherwise soft skin.
The muscles wrapped around his shoulders move as he draws, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of them.
‘Yeah… I’m fine’
You reply, not at all convinced by your own weak attempt of trying to mask your obvious distaste for the sight of the messages on your Lock Screen whilst you shuffle about trying to clean a needle gun.
‘Oh really? Cos’ I’m hearin’ a great deal of sighing for your corner of the room and not alotta action…’
Chris sarcastically snorts back, his voice containing buckets of care masked within the joking manner. He doesn’t even bother turning his face, far too absorbed by the current drawing of a tiger he was doing on someone’s chest in a couple of weeks time whilst he expertly shaded in the small black stripes of its rippling body.
You pause for a minute, debating on whether or not you should actually tell Chris about what’s been going on. It’s your ex. And Chris doesn’t like him at all. So how is he going to react when you tell him he’s been quite literally harassing you for the past couple of weeks?
Not well is your guess…
Even though you two are co-workers, you share an extremely close relationship and tell each other practically everything, which sometimes readily blurs the lines between your strictly professional work ethics.
‘Ugh fine, it’s Max, he’s just sort of been bothering me lately…’
This catches Chris’ attention, and his head perks up. Craning his neck he looks back at you with narrowing eyes of suspicious icy blue.
From this angle over his shoulder you can see the gleam of his silver nose ring, and his torso twists just enough to reveal a new tattoo. One that you actually did on him yourself.
It was a delicate but bold patchwork tattoo of a large black widow spider, its long spindly legs stretching across the expanse of his ribs and looking like it was using them to scale up his chest. You struggle to hide a smile at being able to remember doing it on him so well.
You can easily recall the faint buzz of the needle gun and Chris’ soft occasional groans as you punched in the bulbous back of the widow’s body onto his skin that rose and fell to the rhythm of his exhales.
It must have been a sensitive part of Chris’ body because his breathing had been raggedy and his eyes had been squeezed shut for a majority of the tattoo. You had faintly mumbled ‘cool spider… you draw it yourself?’ To which he had responded with a grunt and an affectionate ‘duh’.
Whenever his eyes had opened to look at you they had been dilated heavily, with either pain or pleasure, you’re not quite sure.
He glares over at you and shakes his head. ‘Not this fucking idiot again… what’s he done this time?’.
Chris’ patience for Max has never been there, and he’s often one to be petty about every single move your ex boyfriend makes.
Chris has never liked him and so rejoiced when he heard from you that the break up had been messy on his side of the bargain.
Max was trouble, and so you had done the right thing when breaking things off with him. However, Max wasn’t one to easily let go, and he had been pestering you to take him back ever since.
‘Just being his normal asshole self I suppose’.
You’re deliberately vague with Chris, because you don’t want him to get all riled up like he usually does. He had given up his sketch now and had fully turned to lean his back and elbows onto the counter, knowing that you telling him this information was far more important than the task at hand.
His eyes then flick to the door of the studio, where the welcome sign hangs in the centre of the glass window pane. All around the door are frames of hundreds of different tattoos, all in the different styles of each of the employees that work here. No one else is working today though, it’s just Chris and yourself maning the store.
Chris is a primarily black work realist, and so his designs take up quite a lot of time, their lifelike splendour forking cash loads of money into his bank account whenever a piece is completed.
Multiple clients of his have been here for months as Chris prefers to take his artwork in sessions so the healing isn’t as tenuous.
Quite a few of his previous works have been photographed and framed about the waiting area, just to showcase his impressive ability.
Your area of speciality is more in line with fine line tattoos, you prefer delicacy over all else and likewise, some of your bigger works have been photographed and framed about the shop.
‘You got any more scheduled clients with appointments today?’ Chris spontaneously enquires, and you can tell simply by his face that he is pondering some form of idea within his head that makes you nervous. You hesitate with your response.
‘…Emm- no, I don’t think so?’.
Chris nods mischievously and smirks with his mouth open and his tongue pushing against the side of his teeth playfully.
‘I’m gonna need a little bit more of an explanation than just ‘he’s being an asshole’ then, cherry…’ Chris sing-songs as he pushes himself from off of his slouched position and starts to exit from behind the counter.
The nickname ‘Cherry’ had caught on fairly quickly between the two of you, because Chris had thought that you honestly looked way too sweet to be working in a downtown, grungy tattoo shop. After his first usage of the fond name it had just kind of stuck and now always sounded like molten amber honey dripping from his mouth.
He puts ‘he’s being an asshole’ in knowing quotation marks because he already knows how much of an asshole Max is. He’s experienced it before whenever your ex has decided to show up to your place of work and be a nuisance.
You’re pretty sure you almost had to hold Chris back from planting a right hook into his jaw one time because he had knocked over a bunch of new inks the store had just purchased for everyone’s clients.
Chris’ jaw had clenched immeasurably and you had quickly veered in front of him to plant your palms onto his collarbones after he had taken a large stride towards Max.
You had held him back gently, telling him to take several deep breaths and keep cool whilst you dealt with it.
Well… your version of dealing with it was calmly escorting him out of the shop and reassuring him that you’d see each other later before meekly returning back into the reception area to face a fuming Chris who immediately rolled his eyes and spat a quick ‘I’m gonna ban that bitch from coming in here next time he shows his ratty lookin’ face…’
You had simply sighed, shook your head, and tenderly patted him on the shoulder.
At the present, you squirm nervously when you see the way Chris walks right up to the door, before twisting the heavy duty lock on it and flipping the welcome sign to the side that displayed a big ‘closed’ on the front that was visible to passing strangers.
‘Chris it’s not that big of a deal honestly!’ You try and laugh it off as Chris spins back around. He then walks right up to you.
Grabbing one of the other chairs at the desk you were sitting at, he turns it around so that he can comfortably straddle it.
‘Uhh, well that’s where you’re wrong because it just so happens that my favourite girl’s ex is bothering her, and if she’s gotta problem with it… then so do I’ he sassily bites back, referring to you in the third person as he rests his taut forearms onto the spine of the chair, which gives himself something to lean on.
You have to ignore the way your stomach flips when he calls you his favourite girl, and you shyly flit your eyes to the floor whilst still fumbling around with the tattoo gun.
‘Well um… he just- he just keeps uhh’ you start, stuttering and having to sigh in utter frustration at not even being able to articulate your words properly.
Suddenly your eyes feel hot, and they sting a little. You are not going to cry in front of him. You panic when your voice wobbles and try to regain your composure as Chris looks at you with a worried expression.
‘Hey- hey… s’okay cherry, s’alright. Take your time, I’m here’.
Chris notices your flustered state and coos gentle reassurance at you whilst stretching one of his hands out to softly stroke the ball of your shoulder, right on the section of naked skin where the fabric of your top straps don’t quite reach.
You want to say that Chris is just being friendly, but somehow, the way he touches you tells a different story. It could have just been a harmless pat, but instead he had curled the knuckles of his hand and used them to soothingly skim up and down your skin, slowly, repetitively… almost sensually.
Chris liked any excuse to touch you. You were so soft and supple, a major contrast to his own skin. And he hated seeing a man like that crumple you up like a simple ball of paper and toss you into the trash.
You take one last stuttering breath before continuing.
Gazing at Chris’ soft smile and focusing on the calming gleam of his nose piercing, you find yourself relaxing once again as you take your time to look at each of his individual statement pieces whilst relaying your story.
His silver nose ring, his two lobe piercings that were decorated with spiked metal hoops, and his helix piercing, that came in the form of a small snake charm. It shone in the natural light of the room as it slithered up the expanse of his cartilage and provided a nice distraction for you.
‘I don’t know… h-he’s just saying these disgusting things about my body, and- and how I’m never going to find someone that will treat me better than him in bed. Just general filthy shit like that…’ you mumble, feeling absolutely humiliated and degraded at having to tell Chris about what Max has been saying to you as you sniffle and rub your nose.
As you explain yourself, the motion of Chris stroking your arm slows up significantly, and his little smile fades with every word you speak to him. His eyes narrow, something you noticed he does whenever he’s seething with rage.
‘Gimme your phone, I wanna see these texts’ Chris quips demandingly, using the hand that was once rubbing your skin to unfold itself and silently ask for your phone.
You sigh and hand it to him without much of a fight. You know that there’s no use in trying to argue with Chris when he gets like this. He’s driven, and once he has an idea there’s rarely anything you can do to deter him from it.
He unlocks your phone, already knowing your password, and starts to scroll through the endless shower of sexually abusive messages. You bite your lip as you look at him reading them over.
He sits on the backwards chair with his jean-clad thighs casually spread out, still one arm resting on top of the spine whilst the other one holds the phone and vigorously scrolls downwards.
You then flick your eyes to his face, and the way his rosy lips wet themselves as they quietly announce some of the words that he reads back to himself. The further down he goes the more furrowed his brows get.
Suddenly he shakes his head with an angry tick and slams your phone face down onto the table. You jump slightly at this, and blink at a Chris that had immediately shot to a stand.
‘That’s it, m’not dealing with this shit anymore. If he can’t leave you the fuck alone then I’ll make him.’
You look at him in confusion.
‘What’s that supposed to mean…?’ you shyly trail off but your question is shortly answered as soon as Chris bends down to level with you and seamlessly digs his palms into your thighs so that he can pluck you up from off of your chair.
You yelp a little in shock, your heartbeat thrumming against your ribcage before you quietly recover as Chris curls your legs around his hips. Upon touch, your hands instinctively fly to grip onto the back of his neck, his skin being warm and tepid.
The scruff of his long hair feels like satin tickling over your fingers and Chris groans in achievement as soon as he feels your thighs tense against his waist.
He’s been waiting for an excuse to do this.
‘Max is tellin’ you that you’re never gonna get a better fuck than him? Well I’m about to prove him wrong, s’that okay with you, cherry?’ Chris asks, not really expecting no for an answer as he starts to walk over the squeaking floorboards to the backrooms of the shop.
He knows exactly where he’s going and something deep within your core flutters at this assertive kind of attitude.
Chris has always been the extremely blunt and forward type of guy- if you looked pretty that day, he’d tell you, and make it obvious that he was attracted to you.
Today was no different, you could tell he had every intention of fucking you and making it extremely clear to Max just how good he was going to do it.
‘Y-yeah’ is just about all you can muster in your shaky state.
As you look down at Chris’ face, his chocolatey waves tussle in a rather wild-looking way whilst nestled about his pierced ears. Your fingers timidly skim about his neck, and one of them draws nervous patterns over the black bat tattoo situated behind his right ear that he had gotten for his brother a year ago.
‘That’s my girl’ he praises cockily as he barges through the beaded entrance way into one of the client operating rooms. There’s a black leather stretcher in the centre of the room and a stool sitting idle right beside it where the artist sits.
Chris goes straight for the client table though.
He smirks a toothy grin as he plops you down onto the spongy leather and you find it within yourself to crack an equally as excited smile. He nudges open your legs so that he can stand in between them and weighs his hands down onto your hips, pressing his thumbs into your bones and rubbing them fondly.
‘Did Max kiss you at all when you two fucked?’ He asks breathlessly with his cerulean eyes lilting down to your lips hungrily.
He’s itching to get all over you. He’s been dying to taste your tongue on his for ages and it just so happens that this posed as the perfect, sneaky way to do so.
‘Well, hm… not that much, but I guess a-’ you start to explain, but ‘not much’ is enough of a pathetic answer for Chris to fall forward and engulf your lips in between his before you can finish anyway.
Your little muffled whine of shock is swallowed by a Chris that attaches himself to your bottom lip quickly.
Winding one of his hands behind your back, he uses that - and the other one gripping your hip - to yank your body towards his. You two stay flushed together, and you can feel Chris’ throbbing prick against the seam of your pants already. He’s hard, and clearly pent up for you behind his low-waisted jeans.
‘That’s not good enough’ he mumbles, almost in a tongue-drunken stupor against your lips, criticising Max so that he can subtly defend his choice to kiss you.
Really, he had no need to, but fuck did he want to.
You don’t complain, in fact, you simply sigh at how close Chris is. You can feel his nose delicately skimming against your cheek the more he twists the side of his face to gain better access to you, and you can’t help but lust for the way his dewy lips wrap around your own.
The contrast between his cold fingertips brushing against your body and his hot tongue leeching out to slip into your open mouth makes you shiver.
‘N-no you’re completely right… that’s not good enough’ you coquettishly add on to the conversation you two have in between kisses. As you shit talk Max together, you only encourage Chris to take further jabs at him.
‘And what about these pretty little things here…? Did he touch these enough?’.
Chris’ nose trails down the line of your jaw to dip and run along the jugular vein of your neck whilst he pants desperately. He holds your sat figure into his standing leant one with one hand gripping your ass whilst the other one trails up to squeeze against one of your braless tits.
Wanting Chris to play with them, your blushing figure shakes its head and you swallow thickly. ‘No…’.
Chris hums a casual ‘huh’ in playfulness before the hand playing with it decides to slip itself under your shirt for better access. You heavily hiss and arch your back as soon as skin on skin contact is reached and Chris gingerly touches your peaked nipple.
‘You make me feel like such a pervert when you don’t wear a bra to shifts we do together because I stare at them all the time…’ Chris confesses as he gently kneads one of them within his big palm. Whilst he does this, his face buries itself into your neck to pepper sprinkles of sloppy kisses all over your skin.
‘What if I told you I do it on purpose… I like it when you look…’ you breathe with your head knocked back in pleasure. Chris stops his assault on your neck to gaze at you with raised eyebrows of shock.
‘Fuck. Max was an idiot for fumbling you…’
This makes both your heart flutter and your core drip. You like Chris’ praise a lot more than you like Max’s degradation, and make sure to let Chris know this by giving him another kiss.
‘S’mommy gonna let me suck on her tits?’ He ponders in a feigned babyish voice against your lips, the sweet lilt of his sensual tone almost making you melt into the client’s table.
Your needy reply of ‘yes’ is soon followed by an immediate response from Chris, who slowly reaches into his back pocket for his phone.
He slides it out and then presents it in front of your face with his brows raised.
‘And is mommy gonna let me film it so that I can send it to Max and let him see me having my treat?’.
Your eyes flick to the phone, then to Chris’ expectant face, absolutely drowning in lust at the thought of Chris wanting to film himself sucking on your tits. You nod without hesitation, and Chris smirks in victory.
He’s definitely using this to touch himself later.
Chris quickly fumbles around with his phone in excitement, scrubbing his home screen into his camera roll before he’s pressing the small red button to record himself propping it up onto the counter right next to where you were sitting.
You watch within a trance as Chris feeds his hands into the bottom of your top to sensually slide it right up your ribs. He then runs it over the top of your tits and leaves it to rest above them with a purr of ‘good girl’.
You feel your knees get physically weaker at the sight of Chris veering his face down into your tits, his mouth almost feathers against them as both of you look at the camera at the same time.
Chris has a little victorious smirk on his face, that he smugly flashes to his phone before turning back in and gently kissing your nipple.
He can’t stop his conniving smile as you seal your eyes shut and throw your head back, whimpering with your fingers combed into the back of his hair and tugging on it. Chris makes a show of poking out his tongue and licking you before he fully kisses one of your tits into his mouth to suck on it.
He moans a little starved whimper at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth whilst his tongue rolls and his teeth clamp down onto you.
His hands get grabby as you pant, listening to the way the microphone of the camera absorbs the sloppy sounds of him sucking on your skin whilst he kisses and licks wherever he can.
‘That feel good huh?’ Chris mumbles into you, and you whine in response with a stuttered ‘so- so good’. He nods cockily, eying the camera with your second tit already in between his teeth. ‘Yeah? This the best mouth you’ve ever had?’.
Struggling to fight off his smile at the comment he completely stole from Max, he knows it’ll make your ex’s blood boil, especially when you reply with an instantaneous shout of, ‘fuck- yes, I- I need more baby!’.
‘You want more?’ He drawls temptingly, pulling away from your chest that was now red and glistening, some sections littered with subtle teeth marks and some with purpling hickies.
‘I’ll give you more baby’ he laughs through his teeth before pressing his fingertips onto your core.
‘Hope you’re soaking for me, you’re gunna need it’ he quips before lightly trailing his hand up to the button of your zipper.
Your core clenches again when he pops it open, the insinuation that you need to be extra wet for him because of his size making you want to pass out in horniness.
He opens the front of your jeans before feeding his hands underneath your thighs so that he can pull you towards him and also force you onto your back to tug your jeans down.
After that, he watches the way you squirm when he sticks his fingers into the side of your sheer panties. In view of the camera, the pad of his thumb swipes up your slit as he checks your sensitivity himself.
‘Awe angel you are soaked… what a good girl for me’.
His sweet praise melts over you in the best way possible, and you can’t help but get shy and cover up your eyes to smile.
Sometimes you forget that the camera is there, but Chris never does, and he glances over at it constantly to smirk as if Max is already watching on the other end of the line before turning his attention back to admire you.
‘I’m gonna make that pretty pussy feel so fucking good momma’ Chris boldly states as he starts to fumble around with his chunky and glamorously rhinestoned belt buckle. The leather of it flaps and his buckle gives a metallic jingle whilst he undoes it, his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the downwards slant his head holds.
‘Please- I really need you’ you mumble breathlessly, spreading your legs even further in reaction to seeing the stretch of his cock against his white Calvin Klein boxers as soon as he lets his jeans drop to the floor with a heavy crumple.
From here you can see his thigh tattoo of a crooked spiders web, done in extremely fine ink, delicate but dark.
‘I know you need me baby I know- be patient alright?’ He shushes you with a reassuring coo, before sliding to the side of you and hopping up onto the table himself. He positions himself right in front of his still recording phone so that he can get the best angle for this.
‘Why don’t you go ahead an’ take off those panties for the camera sweet girl… do it for me?’.
Chris’ whiny sounding voice is just so sugary and compelling. You’re pretty sure you would do anything he asked if it really came to that extreme because along with his voice, his lips and eyes really did the trick for you.
Chris stutters a breath as soon as he pushes his hand down his boxers to take ahold of his hot, silky cock, it’s skin already wet with precome at just how divine you had sounded whilst he was attached to your tits.
He tightens his fist to squeeze himself and throbs in his hand, his mouth dropping open and his shoulders heaving as you slide off the table and strip from your clothes fully.
As soon as you’re done, you can feel your wetness trickling and sloshing about your folds, and so you squeeze your thighs together when looking at Chris for his next instruction.
Chris hungrily gazes down to your panties that lie in a messy heap on top of your jeans. ‘Gimme those?’ He commands and gestures for you to grab a hold of your panties and give them over to him, which you do obediently and without question.
Chris grasps ahold of them and balls them up into his fist before smirking at the camera once again. ‘These are mine now… so’s your pussy’.
You turn red at this low and beastly remark, trying hard not to pounce on top of Chris for saying it. He talks so smoothly. It’s as if every word his mouth forms puts you under a lemony haze of pleasure and you just can’t get enough of it.
You just don’t understand how he can keep this up when you yourself already look like a fucked-out hot mess.
‘I’m all yours Chris’
You practically flee into his awaiting arms, and he hoists your bare and pink centre over his lap.
Kissing your tits again, he grips onto your fleshy thighs and moans a whimper whilst side eyeing the camera in ultimate possessiveness, just to make a show of it being him who’s sucking your tits, and not Max.
He’s going to feel so smug and proud of himself as soon as he sends this his way.
‘Can I have your cock Chris, please?’ You beg, stroking his waves of hair once again to butter him up - not that you’d really need to work all that much to have his cock in the first place…
‘Of course you can Cherry, you’ve been so good for me’ Chris replies as his fingertips stroke against your stretch marks, before he leans in and whispers ‘help yourself…’.
You glance down to the tent in his boxers with your lip bitten and a giddy little smirk on your face. After Chris invites you, you waste no time in pulling his weeping cock from out of the restraints of his boxers.
The hip tattoo he has of a Cupid with angel wings, a halo and a winking face soon makes itself known to you after you tug his underwear down a little further. The ink of the little boy’s heart-encrusted bow and arrow cheekily point right to the base of Chris’ cock, and so you crack a smile, shaking your head fondly at Chris’ inappropriate but witty humour.
He’s thick and throbs in your hand, his tip sticky and slick as it pulses a light pink taffy colour whilst a thick blue vein pokes itself out from the side of his length to travel right down to his base. ‘Fuck’ you breathe. Chris looks at you cockily and is very much pleased with your wanton response.
‘Want you to sit on it till it hurts and you can’t no more precious girl’ he mumbles as he hitches your hips up into his hands and lifts you above him. You nod with a little ‘Uhuh’, your stomach flipping and oozing to feel the stretch of him. He’s bigger than Max, and the thought makes you careen in pleasure.
You almost forget that you two are both supposed to be at work, because all of this feels so private and intoxicating, and the implication of Chris making it into sex tape gives you life.
As soon as you’re placed on top of him, you hold his base so that you can sink down properly, and both of you choke out whines at how fucking amazing it feels.
‘Shit… still tight honey… has Max really been using you properly or is his cock just that small?’.
Chris can’t help it. He gets off on criticising your priggish ex boyfriend because he truly fucking hates his guts. And damn does it feel good to be fucking you with the intention of letting the man himself know through the recording of it.
‘Fuck, I feel so full’ you speak into the air.
You then have to bite your hand so that you don’t draw tears because of the burning stretch Chris gives you. It’s almost unbearably uncomfortable for the first minute of bottoming out.
But then it stops being uncomfortable and starts making you squirm again at needing some form of friction to move yourself.
So you do.
Lifting your hips slightly, you slip back downwards and grind forwards at the same time whilst Chris looks up at you with star-ridden irises. They twinkle in the light and he pants heavily after every time you move.
He soon starts to naturally move himself, needing to respond to you in some sort of way.
He loves watching your tits bounce whilst you rise and fall onto his cock, the sticky slickness of it slapping within his ears and making him want to come all over your insides already. You squeeze him so fucking well, and he equally stretches you out to the limit.
The rough skin of his prick steadily rubs against your walls and ignites an explosion of sensitivity within your centre whenever Chris pushes himself far enough to hit your g-spot. He’s so big he almost bulges from your stomach.
‘Who owns this pussy, who does it belong to?’ He barks as you squeeze your eyes closed and scrunch your nose up, having to slam your head onto his shoulder because of your overstimulation in pleasure.
You stutter out a quick ‘ugh- y-you’ as you feel Chris’ fingers grab onto your hips because of their slowing roll. He digs them into your skin and starts to move you himself at an even faster pace which makes you whine even louder.
‘Sorry… not quite sure Max heard you- can you say that again for me Cherry?’ Chris meanly rebutts and makes your cheeks flame red after he actually takes his palm and harshly swats it against the side of your thigh. You yelp at the brash cracking sound the sweaty skin-on-skin contact creates, but nevertheless still cry a humiliated ‘you!’.
Chris praises you immediately after with a soothing ‘that’s right… good girl’, before starting up his sly and conniving antics once again.
‘And whose name are you gonna be screaming from now on hmm?’.
Chris’ little taunting hum is fucking petty. But also, just what you need to finally cum.
‘Yours Chris! Fuck- all yours!!’.
You’re almost shouting as you arch your spine and throw your head back in ecstasy whilst your legs quiver and an almighty wave of euphoria rushes over your whole entire being.
‘Awe baby… cumming already? I was just getting started…’ Chris coos cockily as he lets go of one of your hips to soothingly stroke against your back with a pretty pout on his lips.
However that pout doesn’t stay for long because it struggles to fight the smirk that quickly overtakes his facial expression at the thought of how quickly he had made you cum.
He glances at the camera once more, to admire the position the both of you were in with dilated eyes, before focusing back onto you and speedily forcing your hips up and down a couple more times to finish himself off.
You squeak and claw at him in overstimulated pain, whining for him to slow down, but all he does is gently hush you in comfort. ‘I know shhh, I know. Wanna make sure I fill you up nice and good though baby’.
His voice is so gentle, and in lulls you into a drooling stupor with tears in your eyes as you claw at his tattooed back with your sharp nails. That’s going to leave heafty scratch marks.
Chris is tempted to wipe them away, but doesn’t have enough time before he’s groaning loudly and his tip is uncontrollable squirting out thick ropes of cum.
He bounces your hips a couple more times to get rid of as much as he possibly can. He wants to see it practically leaking from out of your abused hole. After he thinks you’ve milked him dry, he lets go of your bruised waist and you crumple back down into his embrace.
He rubs your back as you try to desperately regain your breath with your core raw, stinging and slimy with Chris’ cum.
‘There’s my good girl… taking all of me like that. Swear I’ll give you my babies next time you take me that well.’ He absentmindedly praises you for the last time, and you find it within yourself to laugh in disbelief, shaking your head before you slap his shoulder and lean upwards to look at him in the eyes once more.
‘Okay… you’ve proved your point. Now stop recording so I can kiss you a little more.’
Your thumbs stroke the bags underneath his eyes, and his smile is so sunny that you’re sure it could have opened up flowers on a dewy spring morning.
‘Yes ma’am…’
. ♱ .
Later that evening, Chris had sat alone in the tattoo parlour.
He had told you that you could go home early and that he’d sanitise the rooms and lock up as a special treat for you.
You had done as you were told and left a while ago, which left Chris to watch back the sex tape that you two had made earlier with a mean and satisfied smirk slapped over his lips.
He had rewatched it about 3 times, admiring the way both of you had moved with the volume all the way up to listen to your heavenly sounding whimpers. He had replayed his favourite bits a great deal and was fucking obsessed. He couldn’t help himself.
He had then exited the camera app and went straight into Instagram, searching up Max’s account profile to slide into his DMs.
With one final smirk, he had bitten his lip victoriously and selected the video of you and him together before attaching it and typing one final thing before clicking the send button and locking his phone.
Might wanna think next time you make bold allegations about how she’ll never find a better D x
. ♱ .
Author’s notes p.2: guys I’m actually so sorry for disappearing off the face of Tumblr for fuck knows how long without an explanation. Truthfully there isn’t really much of an explanation apart from the fact that I’ve simply been too busy to write (and have also had major writers block atm- hence me and @luv4kozume collab taking so long lol). BUT I’m back with something that has actually turned into one of my favourite pieces of writing on this blog, so I hope it’s been worth the wait!! I love all of you guys for asking where I’ve been and equally as much for missing me. I’ve missed writing for you guys so much and am absolutely obsessed with tattoo artist!Chris, also don’t worry you guys, you’ll get cherry popper 3 one of these days lmao… Anyways, until next time cherry pies!! 🍒
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soobnny · 3 months
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coming home — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan surprising you by coming home. could be a part two to ‘one more month’
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The plan had been to surprise you.
It’s been months since Chan’s been home, and all the days leading up to him coming back have been spent thinking about how much he’d like to hold you and kiss you without the restrictions of his work. He hates having to leave you. Hell, it’s always been the hardest part of what he does—saying goodbye to you.
He’d been thinking of all the ways he could be a better boyfriend to you, starting with a dinner reservation at your favorite restaurant, to make up for lost time. Video calls and text messages can only go so far, but they will never be able to replace you when you’re not around. Though, what had not been part of the plan, was for his flight to be pushed back due to a sudden schedule.
Chan supposes he should be grateful, but he finds it hard when all he wants is to make it home to you. The dinner reservation is canceled, and Chan’s flight arrives in Korea at around 2am.
It takes an hour travel before he’s at your doorstep, but the boy doesn’t want to wake you. He doesn’t think he has the heart to, not when you’d admitted to him a few weeks ago how hard sleep had been coming to you. Doesn’t want to disturb you of rest that he knows you desperately need amidst the credits you’re taking for college.
He sighs, taking out his duplicate keys and inserting them in the keyhole, twisting the knob and quietly walking into your apartment. He’s extra careful with his actions, slightly cringing when the door makes a small banging sound at being closed. He hopes it didn’t startle you awake.
Chan undoes the laces of the shoes you’d gifted him on his birthday last year, setting them aside just beside your own pair. He finds himself staring for a second, unknowing smile already forming on his face at the realization that you’re actually here. And in any second, you’ll be back in his arms.
“Chan?”
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight he’s subjected to. He supposes the slight banging of your door had woken you up, because now you’re standing in front of him, eyes still adjusting with a small yawn threatening to escape. He doesn’t think you’re fully awake yet, and Chan would’ve lunged to embrace you had you not looked so gentle and confused.
“Hi baby.” He can’t hide his smile anymore, not that he was trying to in the first place. He’s smiling in that lovesick way, eyes crinkling like crescents and cheeks growing more and more prominent when he notices the realization slowly dripping color on your face.
“Oh my god. You’re home.” Your eyes are a little wider now, staring at his eyes, his nose, his lips. You’re trying to decipher whether you’re still dreaming, but it’s impossible to draw that conclusion when he’s inching closer and closer to where you are, slipping his black backpack on the floor in favor of wrapping his arms around you. “Channie, I’ve missed you so much.”
Chan can’t seem to respond, not when he’s finally fully engulfed in you—the scent of your shampoo, your warmth from having been under the covers not long ago, your skin. Your apartment, and everything about you. So potently you. He hugs you for as long as possible, so much so that you notice a glimpse of his dyed hair tucked under the beanie he always wears.
“Have to shower. Go get warm under the covers again, hm?”
“But—”
“I’ll be back before you know.” Chan presses a sweet kiss on your lips, and he almost crumbles. He’ll kiss you better when you’re wrapped up in his arms a few minutes from now. And true to his word, he does come back in the blink of an eye, and you watch in fondness as he positions himself beside you under the covers, arms scooping you to lay down on him.
“Love you.” He whispers, eyes drifting to your face. He always does this when he’s with you, always so captivated by you and everything about you. You’re just so familiar, and it feels good to be coming back home to you. “Missed you a lot.”
“Will you stay?” You ask. Almost hopeful.
“Mhm.” He hums. “I’m staying, baby.”
It’s so easy to sleep with Chan next to you. You feel sorry for the way you drift back to sleep, but he doesn’t mind at all. His attention is still on you, and his heart twitches at how beautiful you are, and how there is never any pressure to be anything when he’s with you.
And he stays. He stays with his palms pressed on your back, and his lips placing gentle kisses on your face for a few minutes before he falls asleep. And he continues to stay when you wake up with his mouth finding yours. Chan stays, and he doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon.
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (3) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 3.4k
In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.
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You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on. 
You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore. 
As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return. 
Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch.  You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls. 
One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you. 
“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook. 
“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”
You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”
You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”
“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”
“I think it’s fun,” You said. 
“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”
You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”
“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”
“Maybe,” You spoke honestly. 
The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”
“We could paint together?” You perked up. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”
“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”
“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”
“I do,” You said quickly.
Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”
“I . . . “
“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”
“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”
He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”
“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”
It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you. 
You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”
“You don’t care?”
“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”
You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye. 
“We should take the boat out.”
“Now? Where?” 
“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”
It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”
Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”
Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”
“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”
The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you. 
You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”
You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other. 
You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”
You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it. 
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“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”
“It really is,” You agreed. 
“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.” 
The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way. 
As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were. 
Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”
You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door. 
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”
“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”
“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head. 
“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”
“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.” 
As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time. 
After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”
“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”
“How do you know?”
“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”
“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs. 
You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”
You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles. 
“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”
“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”
You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.” 
If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time. 
Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties. 
“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”
You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology. 
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Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”
Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers. 
“We could take his girl.”
Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”
Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him. 
“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”
“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”
“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”
Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him. 
“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”
“And after you’ve cornered the market?”
“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter. 
“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”
With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.
“I-I couldn’t find you.”
Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”
“She doesn’t drink.”
 Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment. 
Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him. 
“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.” 
 When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you. 
“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”
“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along. 
Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs. 
“How you liking Kildare?” 
“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”
“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously. 
Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him,  “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?” 
Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”
“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”
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A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)
PART 4
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.
***I'm giving something new a go. This is strictly through Simon's point of view as if he is directly talking to you; he is the only one speaking***
Word Count: 5.6 k
Warnings:
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The jingle plays repeatedly until the video call connects and the image of you pops up the screen, laying on your side propped on your elbow as you seem to be just waking up for the day. A few stray rays of sunshine creep in from the side of the picture and shimmer through the strands of your hair so that even in your sleepy, disheveled state you still look like a painting. Simon keeps his camera off for the moment, but his voice comes through clear as day over the speakers; the connection is actually decent this time around. 
“Well ‘ello there gorgeous. Surprised to hear from me? It’s been a fuckin’ minute, hasn’t it? I know it’s pretty early there, but I finally have a bit of time now that everyone’s asleep and I wanted to see ya.”
Simon keeps his voice low and hushed, trying not to draw attention to himself as he lays in his cot in the dark, the only light coming from the screen of his phone. His earbuds are plugged in so that he can hear everything with keen precision while keeping the others in his team from listening, just in case. 
“You been doin’ alright there, luv? Keepin’ it all togetha for me till I get back? I know this time it’s been a bit longer, but it ain’t gonna be forever. I’ll be back before ya know it and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”
There’s a look on your face, something he immediately notices. A glint in your eye, a twitch of the corner of your mouth, a shift of your body as you adjust yourself under the sheets. Your texts to him over the past week, wondering when he would have time to actually call, were getting more and more desperate sounding and now reading your body language through the camera he is able to put it all together.
“Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart? Care ta tell me what it is? Or should I guess? Cause I think I ‘ave a pretty good idea ‘a what’s goin’ on.”
He watches you bite your lip as you look away, a heat blossoming in your cheeks that flushes throughout your face. There it is, the sign he’s looking for. There’s only two reasons why your cheeks flush like that and you aren’t known to be drinking this early in the morning.
“Are ya missin’ me real fuckin’ bad, is that it?”
You look back up into the camera and give a distinct nod. He understands it well, as he has been pining for you since the day he left. That’s the other reason he has been trying to find time to make this call: he’s been missing his girl real fucking bad and needs some special time with you and only you, even if it’s just for a short video chat now that he is on the tail end of his assignment and he doesn’t have to put as much focus into his work.
“Trust me, you ain’t the only one, sweetheart. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to fuckin’ see ya and there’s things I’ve been missin’ too: that pretty face a yours, wakin’ up next to ya layin’ in bed, the sound of your hummin’ comin’ from the kitchen as ya make breakfast…”
He trails off a moment with his thoughts as he lowers his voice until it’s barely above a whisper, leaning his lips into the microphone built into his headphones just in case any stray ears are listening in. Simon thought he’d be able to get through a bit of small talk before starting in on this stuff, but it seems like your need for each other cannot be contained once you’re in proximity. 
You get him riled up without even trying. He clears his throat and continues the thought. 
“...and if I’m real honest, I’ve been missin’ other things too. The more intimate things like you naked underneath me, the sensation of your legs wrapped ‘round my waist, makin’ those sweet little sounds whenever I hit the right spot. It’s been fuckin’ eatin’ me alive out here, not been able to take care of it. I swear every goddamn time I’m away from ya it’s like I can’t help thinkin’ about ya nonstop. Can ya blame me? I mean, look at ya, luv. You’re a goddamn dream. Christ, I’ve been gettin’ hard just thinkin’ ‘bout what I’m gonna do to all those gorgeous curves the fuckin’ minute I get back.” 
He can hear your already staggered breathing hitch and it makes him smile; it’s cute the way you are always so down bad for him. Just bringing up a few stray thoughts and a mention of his cock and you are already burning. But maybe you were burning a little before that too.
“That’s what you’re missin’ too, yeah? Havin’ me there with ya, doin’ what we do best? Ya don’t have to tell me, I know my sweet girl gets fuckin’ needy when I’m not ‘round to keep her satisfied. From the way you keep messaging me, trust me I know. Bet it’s been fuckin’ lonely there all by yourself; betcha been achin’ for somethin’ to help ya get some relief. I know ya don’t like usin’ your toy all the time…Is that why ya wanted me to call?”
You stutter out some objections, hoping not to sound too desperate as you don’t want him to think that’s the only reason to answer his call. Simon isn’t bothered by it one bit; he can tell you need something to take the edge off. He can always tell… and he wants to help.  
“Ya don’t have to hide it from me, luv. It’s clear as fuckin’ day; I’m already makin’ ya flustered, I can hear it as ya talk. Don’t think I forgot whatcha told me a while back. How ya like the sound ‘a my voice. Ya said it makes ya wet. Is that what ya need now, baby? Need me to talk ya through it and help ya get off?”
You squirm again under the covers, clearly trying not to make it obvious that you are rubbing your thighs together. Simon has barely started the dirty talk and already your body is responding to him in that most primal way. Who is he to deny his sweet thing of what she needs? 
“Yeah, that’s what ya want, isn’t it? To listen to my voice while ya touch yourself? Cause I really fuckin’ wanna give my pretty girl some extra attention right now. Make sure she doesn’t go without me even when I’m away. And if this is the only way I can do it, I wanna make sure ya come. I need to hear it again ‘fore I forget what it sounds like when ya orgasm ‘cause of me.”
Goddammit, Simon’s getting worked up just from talking about helping you get off, so much so that his cock begins to twitch in his pants and he has to adjust himself in the bed with a deep, muted grunt, pulling at the fabric at his crotch to give him more room to grow. He watches you get more excited at the prospect of having his attention, even if it’s only for as long as it takes for you to climax. Any bit of his attention makes you feel like the most gorgeous thing in the entire fucking world and that’s why he gives it all to you.
“But I need ya to do somethin’ for me in return. Somethin’ to help me help you. Can ya do that for me, baby?”
He watches as you nod your head up and down into the camera with enthusiasm, not even waiting to hear what it is he is going to ask you to do. Clearly, you would do anything for him, all he has to do is name it. God, he loves you needy for him, let’s him know that he is treating you right.
“I need ya ta sit up, push your computer to the edge of the bed, and angle the camera down for me. Lower. A little more, that’s it. Good girl. Now, take off the blanket and let me see whatcha got hidin’ under there.”
The computer is pushed further away so that your body is in full view and the camera is now pointed directly into your lap as you remove the blanket hiding your lower half, complying without a single word. Once free, your tank top catches his eyes as it hugs tightly to your breasts while your tiny, cotton sleep shorts leave almost all of your thighs exposed; Simon is eating up every last pixel that he can see. 
Those thick, juicy lower limbs of yours are his absolute favorite and if he could be there now he would already be between them. This is definitely a good idea.
“Wanna be able to see that you’re enjoyin’ listenin’ to me. Ya want me to see it, yeah? Wanna show me how much ya miss me, don’t ya? Course ya do, sweetheart. You’re too fuckin’ good to me. Always makin’ sure I get my fuckin’ fill of such ya; my pretty girl.” 
Simon puts a little extra breathiness into his voice, accentuating his gravelly tone to make you blush like crazy as that wetness gathers at your core. He’s gonna pull out all the stops tonight to make sure that you will be content… at least for the next few days. 
“I think we need a bit more, yeah. Get a real good view. Take off your pants and spread your legs nice and wide for me. Let me see that beautiful little pussy that I’ve been dreamin’ of. Just like that. Little wider; there ya fuckin’ go. O-oh fuck, looks like you’re already drippin’ for me.”
The light catches a faint glistening from the slit between your satiny petals and he can hardly find the air to fill his lungs as his mouth begins to salivate. Acting off of pure instinct, your hand travels down between your legs and almost reaches your cunt before he comes to his senses and scolds the action by snapping his fingers into the mic. 
“Ah, ah, I know you’re achin’ bad, but no touchin’, not till I fuckin’ say. Does my voice turn ya on that much ya can’t even wait for me to really get it goin’? I’ve barely even started and you’re already unable to stop yourself. I wanna make this good for the both of us, but I can’t do that if ya get ahead of yourself. Just breathe a minute.”
An idea pops into his head, fueled by the intense throbbing in the crotch of his pants. He hadn’t thought that he would be getting involved like this, it is risky given his current situation, but his body is saying otherwise. There’s no stopping him when you are giving him such a feast for his eyes to devour.
“Maybe ya just need an incentive to take it slow. Somethin’ to keep your ass in line. I got somethin’ for that, baby.”
The metallic sound of a zipper being undone and a sharp hiss of air between his teeth is heard over the call before the camera is turned on. Simon points the phone at his face for a moment and pulls up his mask slightly to give you a quick smirk before bringing it down to rest on his thighs as he points it straight at his lap. Through the dimness that surrounds him, the focus adjusts and through the opening created at the top of his pants that big fucking dick comes into full view on screen. 
A rush of adrenaline floods his limbs as he hears you inhale sharply, a stray ‘fuck’ escaping your lips at the sight of it throbbing into the palm of his hand. It is swollen at the tip and jumps with his pulse.
“This is all for ya, darlin’; no one else gets to have this fat fuckin’ cock all to themselves, ‘cept you. Have ya missed it? Missed seein’ how fuckin’ big I am? Yeah ya have; I bet your droolin’ over yourself, aren’t ya? Mmm… my horny little princess, always so hungry for me. Are your lips itchin’ to wrap themselves ‘round it now that ya see it after all this time? You remember how well ya gag on it, yeah? My hand on the back of your head, pushin’ ya down as far as ya can go, your spit dribblin’ from the corners of your mouth, can hardly catch a breath as ya choke...”
Simon has to stop and reel himself back in or risk getting too worked up and he can’t take care of you if he’s out of his goddamn mind. That imagery has you quaking and he can see your body vibrating as you are itching to touch yourself and that’s when he knows exactly what he is going to do to get you off. Taking a deep breath he clears his throat, putting the control over himself to the forefront of his thoughts and starts again.  
“Well, if ya wanna keep seein’ it, I need ya to behave for me and follow my direction. You and I are gonna play pretend for a bit.”
Now more settled he gives his length a stiff stroke up and down slowly, making sure that the camera is glued to his movements. You can’t look away; those big doe-eyes are locked on as if you are wishing you could reach through the screen and touch him with any part of you that you could get to it first. It takes you a couple of minutes to notice anything other than the object of your desire, but as you look up Simon’s dark gaze meets yours through the shadow. 
“Ya like this, yeah? Me strokin’ my cock like this for you to watch? Ya know what’s gonna be even better? How fuckin’ good it’ll feel havin’ it buried deep inside ya again, fillin’ ya to the brim. Ya wanna be full of me again, don’tcha sweetheart? Come on, show me, use your fingers and let me see how much ya miss this fat fuckin’ cock stretchin’ ya out.”
You insert a finger through the lips of your pussy, thrust it inside your entrance, and begin rhythmically stroking against that sensitive bundle as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen to watch Simon stroking it right along with you. He gives you a minute to get started before he speaks again.
“That’s not enough if ya wanna pretend it’s me, pretty girl, I think ya need another two fingers in there at least.”
Simon is trying to stay calm, but it is taking every ounce of his willpower to watch you touch yourself and not immediately blow his load while grunting loudly at the feeling of coming so fast; still, he tries to keep his voice down so no one near can hear him. Slowly you insert another digit and then another so that your first three fingers are now resting just inside your hole, but again that isn’t enough for him. He wants to make this as real as he can. 
“Ya need to go deeper, all the way to the knuckles. Ya know I like to fuckin’ have it down to the base until ya can’t take another inch. Need this to be accurate, like I’m really there with ya.”
You comply, pushing up inside you until the entirety of your fingers are gone and you cannot get anymore in. Simon moans deep in his chest, pleased at how well you are following his orders. It takes some force, but the stroking of his hand sticks to a steady rhythm as he sets the speed for what’s to come. 
“Good girl, that’s it. Now slow it down, keep it steady, and listen to my voice, ya got it? We are gonna do this together. I want ya ta picture me crawling into bed and movin’ right up against ya. My hand turns your head towards me so I can start kissin’ those fuckin’ sweet lips of yours. So warm, so soft, the longer I kiss ya the more I need until I run my fingers through your hair so that I’m holdin’ the back of your head in my grip as I shove my tongue nearly down your throat. I’ve been starvin’ baby and soon I have our mouths pressed so tight together ya can hardly breathe. Just eyes closed, tongues tasting each other, gettin’ absorbed in the way they feel until our mouth’s are fuckin’ raw and burnin’. Only then do I start goin’ down your jawline and neck, so much deliciously smooth skin for me to taste.”    
The sound of tiny, breathy moans hits his ears and his heart thumps heavily in his chest. He hadn’t lied when he spoke about how he misses your music and the sound of it now has him in a goddamn stranglehold. Mix that with the live feed of you thrusting your fingers in and out of your tight hole as the natural lubrication starts to drip down your fingers with each stroke and he has to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself sane.
“Gotta make sure you’re whinin’ and beggin’ me to give ya more before I move on. I’ll pull your top over your head so I can get at those gorgeous tits of yours. Fuck… gonna smother my face between them as I give them the care they need, kissin’ and bitin’ all that soft flesh to leave marks where I’ve been. Each one is gonna be in my mouth so I can use my tongue to flick ‘round your nipple as ya run your fingers through my hair to egg me on until ya can feel it in your clit.”
As he speaks he watches you fall back against the pillows and lift up your t-shirt to expose half of your chest. From this angle he catches a glimpse of the underside of one of your breasts, the edge of your nipple just within view before you cup it in your hand to massage the tissue against your palm and pinch the nipples as if you are trying to make his words come to life. 
“Can ya feel it baby? Can ya feel my hot fuckin’ mouth all over your tits? Christ, I swear I can taste them now; I want ‘em in my goddamn mouth so fuckin’ bad. Got my mouth waterin’.”
He has to swallow hard to stop himself from choking on his own saliva as his lips tingle, recalling the sensation of them against your skin as his hips begin to snap his cock up into his palm harder. 
“Ya know I’m gonna be so worked up that your not even gonna know what’s happening as I shove ya onto your back so that I can move down the bed and rip ya outta your fuckin’ pants. I need ya completely fuckin’ naked so that I can spread your thighs wide open. Gotta make sure I can get between them; wanna have plenty of space to play.”
Again you mimic his words, opening your already spread legs even wider the same way you’d have to do if he were to get in between them. If Simon’s heart thumps any faster it’s going to burst out of his chest; watching you act out this made up scenario is more erotic than he could have dreamed it would be.
“Imagine the feelin’ of my lips kissin’ up the length of those gorgeous thighs. With how much ya been missin’ me they’d already be so fuckin’ sensative that you’d be squirmin’ as soon as I make contact with my mouth. Maybe I’ll even give them a nibble, just for good measure. Ya always do look best wearin’ all my marks everywhere.”
His grip around his cock tightens as he listens close and catches your hummed reply before it sounds like your mouth falls open so that you moan a bit louder as your movements on screen begin to quicken and your hand switches positions to your other breast. Your fingers are starting to furiously pound into you, the pace picking up with each passing second as your desperation spills over at the sound of his voice describing all that fucking pleasure. But Simon is there to reel it all back in.
“Ah, ah, look up at me princess. Slow it back down there. That’s it, nice and steady for me. Don’t want this to be over too soon. Keep your eyes on my hand and follow my pace. We’re gonna get there together, alright?”
Picking your head up so that you can see the screen, your eyes focus on his hand and your strokes settle back to match his, though it does not go unnoticed how you do that little whimper of protest. It’s not easy being the bad guy in this situation, but Simon knows the more denial now, the harder you’ll come and the longer you’ll stay satisfied. And if there is one thing he will never stop doing is making sure his baby is satisfied. 
“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweet thing. I promise we are almost there, just a bit more. Now, where was I? Oh yes, teasin’ those gorgeous thighs of yours. See I can’t move on until I’m happy with my work and I want those little red and purple blotches to be coverin’ all that pretty skin. Ya like when I claim ya like that? Makin’ it obvious that you’re mine? Anyone who sees that is gonna know that you’re bein’ taken care of.”
An open-mouthed moan and a nod of your head is all he’s getting now as you are too out of your mind to form words anymore at this point. Your half-lidded eyes gaze back at him as if you are trying to will him to come through the screen and pound you into the mattress; goddamn he’s going to fuck you so good when he gets back.
“Since I’ve decorated those beauties, I think they’ll need to be displayed and I can’t think of a fuckin’ better place than perched right on my shoulders. Besides, ya know what’s comin’ dontcha? That goddamn sweet little pussy has been callin’ to me since I got down there and now it’s finally time to give it the attention it deserves. Such a pretty thing, those soft petals of yours. You know I’m gonna have to give them a few kisses for good measure.”
Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad now the tastebuds along his tongue prickle as tries to capture that specific sweet, tangy taste in his memory. Why in the hell do you have to be so goddamn perfect?
“You will be pleadin’ with me, callin’ my name over and over until ya feel it. My warm tongue pushin’ itself against your lips and spreading them apart to move in between them. God, that first fuckin’ taste of ya is always my favorite, sweetheart…like goddamn honey. Gonna drag my tongue up the entire length of your cunt to make sure I get as much of ya in my mouth that I can. Then I reach your clit and that’s where I stay. I’ll be suckin’ and lickin’ to my hearts content while you buck against my face all you want; I like it when ya get rough with me. Nothin’ is gonna get me off of ya though, I got ya fuckin’ secured to my face with a tight grip that isn’t gonna let up no matter how ya move.”
The sound of you whimpering fills his ears and it makes his head feel like he’s floating. Your hips are bucking against your hand desperately and he knows you want to go a bit faster, but you are sticking to his set speed like a champ. He takes a couple of minutes to just watch you, wanting to etch this moment permanently in his brain, before he continues.
“I’m waitin’ for it, that moment ya go silent. That’s when I know it’s about to happen and I brace myself to feel your thighs crush against my head and block in my ears like a vice as ya come on my tongue. Do ya know how much I fuckin’ love when ya do that? Bein’ locked to your pussy like that, I would fuckin’ suffocate on ya and not even think twice. Keep me strapped to ya as long as ya want, baby, I’m gonna sit through it all until ya have nothin’ more to give to me. My tongue don’t tire easily, as ya already know.”
Your head falls back, but Simon can still hear you clearly repeating mindlessly your enjoyment of everything that he is talking about with moaned ‘yes’s and whined pleas to Jesus. 
“Can ya picture it? Me sittin’ back up, your cum all across my face? I will probably look like a wild beast with my mouth shimmerin’ and sticky, but I don’t fuckin’ care. Ya make me feral, so deranged that nothin’ else matters ‘cept you. Everything will go faster then: me gettin’ to my knees, pullin’ your hips onto my thighs as your legs still sit on my shoulders, my tip pressin’ against those damp petals covered in my spit and your cum. Eatin’ ya out gets me hard enough there’s no need to wait. Imagine the way it’ll feel when I’m pushing my tip through the threshold and stretching ya out completely. You’ll be cryin’ out as I help ya fit me all in…right down, all the way, fillin’ that cunt.” 
He’s panting now, the vision created in his mind so vivid that as he stimulates himself it feels too real. Of course his hand would never compare to your pussy, but with everything happening it is as if his brain is being tricked into believing that he is fucking you.
“Ya know I ain’t gonna waste anytime, not when I get ya wrapped ‘round me. It’ll be so wet and tight that I just begin poundin’ and poundin’ so hard that it has our bed squeakin’ underneath us from the fuckin’ force, slammin’ into the wall, makin’ your tits bouncing up and down as I go all in, your eyes waterin’ as get so fuckin’ deep it’s almost painful. Goddammit, baby, I want to see your eyes roll back in your head as it overwhelms ya.” 
His abs are clenching, simulating the act in real time as his limbs begin to feel heavy and the coil inside his stomach tightens. Heat is now rushing through his veins like hot water, making him warm from the inside out and it only fuels his imagination more.
“Or maybe I flip ya over and help ya up onto your knees, pullin’ outta only long enough to get ya situated holding onto the wall. Visualize me tuggin’ your hair in my fist to make your back arch so I can thrust right back in. Ya better make sure ya got a steady brace cause I’m gonna reach ‘cross your body and down the front of ya to that swollen clit, strokin’ it with my fingers as I thrust into ya from behind and I need ya to push back onto me. I wanna be able to whisper in your ear all them filthy things like how no one else can make my cock feel this good and how this pussy belongs to only me.”
It’s too much, too much buildup that he is not going to be able to hold off for very much longer. This is going to have to end one way or another and soon it is not going to be a choice anymore. His hand picks up the pace. 
“Go a little faster. That’s it, faster, baby, faster. I’m about to fuckin’ blow and your gonna come with me. Come on, come on… f-fuck… you’re so beautiful like this. No one looks better a fuckin’ mess than you do. And I wanna make ya so goddamn filthy baby. Where ya gonna want me to come, hmm? On your face, on your tits, your stomach… or maybe I won’t pull out at all. Stuff ya full until it’s drippin’ outta ya and I can watch once I’m done. You just imagine it where ya want it most, sweetheart.”
His hand is furiously stroking around his cock with an iron tight grip, running from tip to base, coating his hand in precum so that the next stroke is even smoother than the last. Faint whines escape his closed lips as he tries to stifle the sound by clamping his mouth shut. The entirety of his chest feels like it’s on fire and setting the phone down a second he rips the damned t-shirt he still has on up off his torso and over his head, only releasing his cock for the split second it takes to throw it off that arm and onto the floor. Quickly he grabs the phone and sets it back up. 
“You’re close, yeah? Ya got this, just keep lookin’ at me with those pretty eyes and stay with it. All ya gotta do now is just let go. Good girl, that’s it, let go for me. Come for me, baby, let me hear it.”
Simon watches your thighs shaking and toes curling into the mattress as you call out his name in a pitiful cry and your entire body vibrates, nearly shooting off the bed as you come and come hard. The welling of pressure deep inside him reaches its peak and with the sound of your cry it causes his body to clench, sending him rocketing over the edge violently as a muted grunt echoes in his chest. He angles is cock upward towards his stomach as the warm ejaculate pumps out of his tip, coating the muscles and hair along his abdomen as he milks himself through it until he has no more cum left to release.   
Vision hazy, legs vibrating, cock still twitching as his grip loosens, Simon takes a few minutes to simply breathe. The phone gets ignored for a moment as it lays resting on his thigh. Once he is able to calm enough to function, he picks back up the device and stares into the screen. You are laying flat on the mattress now, chest heaving up and down. Your legs are still splayed open and he can see the glorious product that he helped create catching the light as it coats the outside of your lips.  
“Fuck, ya did so well for me, sweetheart. God, that was fuckin’ fantastic.”
You roll to your side and look into the camera with a crooked, sleepy smile and he mimics it with one of his own. That should be all, everything that he had wanted to happen had in the best way, but there’s one thing he has left to do, one thing he wants to see before he lets you go. One last thing to replay in his mind to give him something to daydream about along with the rest.
“Bring the camera up closer, wanna see your beautiful face all flushed. There’s my sweet girl. Looks like I’ve made a mess of things for ya, but I don’t think ya mind much. I do want ya to do one more thing for me, though. I need ya ta clean up since I ain’t there to do it myself. Nothin’ too strenuous, just take your fingers and stick ‘em in your mouth; get all those juices off with your tongue. There ya go, lick ‘em clean, don’t ya waste any of that fuckin’ goodness.”
You do exactly as he says, using your tongue to pull your fingers between your lips where you suck and lick with gusto until they come back out completely clean and you show them to him with a smile. In that moment you are a goddess, the most gorgeous being he has ever laid his eyes upon, and Simon can only stare on at you in awe that he is so fucking lucky to have such a creature all to himself. 
“Fuck, I’m one lucky bastard,”  he says, barely audible.
There’s a bit of rustling that he can hear now coming from somewhere close and he knows his time is up. At least he got to finish what he started giving you everything that he can, though he does desperately wish he could stay on the call with you a bit longer, but he knows if he doesn’t end it now he might never do it and he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing you like this. Gotta pull the bandaid off quick or else. 
“Hate to end this here, but it seems like our time is up. Wish I could stay, but ya know how it is. If I don’t go now I ain’t ever gonna do it. We’ll talk again soon, promise. You have a good day, pretty girl, alright? Dream of me later tonight, yeah? Cause I’m fixin’ to be dreamin’ of you.”
You blow him a kiss and with that the call ends; he is left back alone in the silence of the night in his bunk- alone. He grins to himself as he puts his phone away and cleans himself up, thinking about you laying back in bed exhausted, but content, all because of him and his efforts. And he wonders if maybe, just maybe, he’ll get the chance to get you off like this again before his deployment ends. 
God he fucking hopes so.
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jyoongim · 2 months
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Hiii
Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.
She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul. 🌶️🔥
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Title: A Price to Pay
part 2
You frowned at the check your boss had handed you.
Too little. You looked at your boss, a nervous smile on your lips as a laugh bubbled out of your throat ”haha this is half of what i should be getting. That’s funny, where's the rest? Am i getting that in cash or some?” Your boss laughed “HA! No thats what you’re getting for the week‘
Your eyes damn near popped out of your head.
 For the week?
This was your pay for the entire week?
Oh hell no!
You poked a finger into the mans chest “What?! The whole week? I’ve been singing my ass off in this shit hole for two weeks! Where are my commissions?” You were angry! 
He gave a low laugh as he pulled out a cigar ”You think just because you’re my best in this joint that I wasn’t gonna get the Final Cut? You better take it before i hand your ass nothing”
You sniffled as you wiped at your runny nose.
The yellow paper with EVICTION stared at you as you felt another wave of tear hit you.
Why? 
Why couldn’t you just make enough to stay afloat?
Why did you have to suffer?
Why didn’t fate grant you mercy?
You had been busting your ass for months trying to make enough money to just pay the damn pills.
You were the best singer on your side of town and that shit hole needed a singer almost every night and when big shots went there. The money wasn’t terrible, it beat standing out on the pier at night, waiting to be taken to gods know where.
You laughed dryly, you would gladly get pimped out if it meant that you could still afford food to eat.
Why was life so cruel?
You had worked so hard and it felt like it was all for nothing.
You could hear your momma in your head
”You wanna dream big? Then never let life beat you down. Take it by the balls and make your dream a reality”
The next thing you know, you found yourself pulling out your mother’s old grimoire and drawing symbols on your bedroom floor.
what the hell were you doing?
You used to scoff at your mother when she did spells. 
Because magic wasn’t real…right?
But it felt like you had no other option as you threw some herbs into the small fire pot.
Momma used to tell you about all types of things that were possible with a little magic. That you always had friends on the other side who could help if you knew what you doing.
And you indeed had no fucking clue.
But you were tired, angry, and desperate and wanted to do something about it.
This was your life!
You felt your body tingle as you chanted the incantation.
The room turned cold and the fire from the candles blew out. The building started to shake as you spoke the last verse and suddenly you were thrown back from an explosion in the middle of your pentagram.
You watched in terror as the floor glowed red and rising from the smoke was a very large demon.
You panicked as it began to stand, gulping at its full height.
Oh what did you just do?
—————————————————
Alastor blinked as he stood. Fanning the smoke away from his face, he grimaced once he saw the pentagram, candles, and herbs. Who dared? His ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. He turned his head and red eyes caught sight of a mortal woman standing against the wall, eyes wide.
He took a step towards her, head tilting as she cowered away. He huffed as he got to the edge of the protection boundary. He gave her a smile, sharp teeth glistening with narrowed eyes 
“Hello my dear”
——————————————————————
You took in the tall demon that stood in your bedroom.
He was dressed like one of those fancy gents.
Red and black tailored suit with a cane.
You watched as he curled his lip when he saw your protection boundary. You felt your body freeze as his eyes met yours.
Red.
Glowing red. 
He was rather handsome looking for a demon. 
He reminded you of-
“Deer” you squeaked, causing Alastor to tilt his head, ears flicking.
oh come on! You can’t be scared of something that you’re in control of!
”Hello my dear” you heard him say. He stood on the cusp of the salt boundary giving you his full attention.
That smile of his was very uncanny.
You shivered.
You found your nerves and puffed your chest out
”Hello demon-sir”
”Alastor” you blinked at him “w-what?”
He never lost that smile “The names Alastor. Pleasure to meet you” you were at a lost for words.  Alastor took your silence to look around, your spellbook caught in his attention before he took you in.
You cleared your throat “I summoned-” “conjured” “You to um make a deal?” You said uncertain
Alastor smirked “oh reallly? And what makes you think Ill make a deal with a human like you?”
You frowned ”You don’t have a choice! I summoned YOU here you have to do what I ask!’
He laughed darkly “Oh my dear that isn’t how things work” he looked back at the salt ”lets chat”
You didn’t trust him, but he seemed friendly girl don’t do it
you inched close and with a sweep of your foot, dusted a bit of the salt to let him through.
Alastor stepped through and now you were being towered over.
Alastor took you in.
what a small thing you were. He was sure you had no idea what you were doing or dealing with.
But if it was deal you wanted, he will grant that.
”What do you want?”
You wrung your hands nervously as you spilled your sad excuse of a life and your far fetched dream.
You felt a surge of determination as you finished your little rant “That’s why I need a deal! I deserve to rise to the top! I’ve worked my ass off for years and nothing! Why-Why should I settle for this? My life deserved to be full of glamor and money! I deserve that right? Right! S-s-so what do you say”
Oh what an innocent thing you were.
Such a fire that had nowhere to burn.
Perfect 
Alastor feigned mulling it over, your face dropping as he walked away from you.
”A deal works both ways my dear”he started as he turned back to you “What will you give me in return?” His smile stretched across his face as his calm facade faded.
You gulped but you were not gonna back out “Ill give you anything j-just please I don’t care what I have to do!”
He was in front of you in a flash, making you take a step back nervously 
“Anything?” A clawed hand squished your cheeks hard as he leaned his face to yours
”prove it” he purred
You blinked.  How the hell were you suppose to do that?
Nothing in this world is free. Your momma taught you that and your warning bells were screaming.
His thumbs was running over your lips and you opened your mouth to suck it.
You could die right now. Was this worth it? To give up your dignity to a demon?
Alastor growled and in a swift motion, you were on your bedroom floor, heart thumping in your ears as you looked up at the demon on top of you.
Alastor’s free hand swiped down your body, tearing your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked.
You felt a soft heat curl in your stomach.
Alastor laughed darkly as he took in your naked form. His hand dipped down and thumbed at the small bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt.
Oh he was going to have fun with you
”One year.” He said as he dipped a finger into your tight heat.
You gasped around his finger.
”You’ll get your fame. You’ll have riches and power beyond your imagination. A top star. It’ll all be yours. But in one year you are mine. Your soul and body. Do we have a deal?” He was slowly fingering you, relishing in the softness your cunt offered as it squeezed around him.
Your body and soul in exchange for glory.
Did you still want this?
”yes” you whimpered
A green glow emitted around the two of you. Alastor eyes glowed and his antlers grew as he plucked his thumb from your mouth and slammed his lips onto yours as he rubbed your clit as he slammed his fingers into you.
”mmmhmm hmmm!’ You cried into his mouth as your orgasm hit you.
Your cunt clenched around him, creamy slick drowning his hand.
Your body buzzed as he retracted his fingers, watching in bliss as he licked your cum off his fingers.
”Oooh such a sweet cunt” He Purred at you as he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your bed.
”Ill always keep close watch my dear, so don’t think you can back out of this” he said, you blinked sleepily as you felt the coldness of a necklace clasped around your neck.
“One year my dear”
Your world faded to black.
pt 2 coming soon..hehehe
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sluttywoozi · 5 days
Text
April Shower | jww x f!reader
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Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight
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Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention
Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track
AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 
This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 
His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 
He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 
Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 
There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 
It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 
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Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 
With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 
He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 
He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 
Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 
He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 
Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 
“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 
He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 
He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 
He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 
He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 
The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 
Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 
Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 
He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 
The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 
Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 
Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 
Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 
“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 
He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 
“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 
You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 
The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 
He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 
“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 
“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 
He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 
He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 
Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 
Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 
He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 
All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 
He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 
“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 
“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 
You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 
Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 
He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 
Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”
“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?
“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 
You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”
“Ohhhh.”
Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 
“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.
He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 
The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”
“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 
He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 
“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 
“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”
“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.
“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 
Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 
He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 
You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 
Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 
He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 
He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 
He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”
“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 
“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.
He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 
But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 
You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 
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Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 
So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 
He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 
Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 
Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 
He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 
He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 
“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 
“Oh!” 
He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 
“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 
“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 
He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 
“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 
“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 
“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 
You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 
“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 
A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 
He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 
“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 
You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 
But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 
He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 
He’ll be busy tonight, after all.
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Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 
He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 
He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 
An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 
A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 
This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.
The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 
It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 
His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 
“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 
You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 
“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 
Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 
He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 
Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 
He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 
“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 
“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”
“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 
He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 
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You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 
It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 
It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 
You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 
He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 
He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 
By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 
Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 
“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”
You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”
He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 
He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 
“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 
He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 
That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 
“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 
“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 
“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”
“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.
“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”
Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 
His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 
It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 
He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 
“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 
He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 
When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”
Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 
“Of course I do.”
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Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 
“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 
“Maybe he missed you?”
You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”
“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 
You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 
He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 
Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 
The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”
He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 
He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 
He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 
Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 
The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”
“Black is great, thank you.”
He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 
You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 
“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 
Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  
“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 
“What are you like in bed?”
Oh. 
Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 
Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-
He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.
“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 
“Is there anything specific that you like?”
This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 
They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 
“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.
“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”
You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 
You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 
You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 
“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 
“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 
He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 
“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 
“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 
I like everything you do. 
You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 
The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 
That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 
“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 
“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 
“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.
If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 
He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 
That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 
So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 
He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 
This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 
He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 
He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 
“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 
You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 
“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 
“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 
“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”
You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 
“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 
He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 
You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 
He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 
It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 
You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 
He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 
You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 
His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 
You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”
He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 
He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 
His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 
He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 
He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 
“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 
Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 
Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”
“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 
His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 
“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 
“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 
He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 
“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 
Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.
“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 
It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 
“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 
He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 
“Lay down for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 
But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 
Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 
He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 
You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 
He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 
It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”
You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 
He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 
“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”
It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 
“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 
He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 
The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 
You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 
He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 
He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 
You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 
You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 
Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 
He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 
You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 
He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 
He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 
Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 
He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 
He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 
He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 
He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 
He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 
“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 
But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 
He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 
Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 
You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 
“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 
He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.
Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.
“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 
He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 
You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 
“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 
“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 
“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 
He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 
It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 
He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 
His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 
That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 
When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 
He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 
You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 
Like mother, like son.
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 
This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 
He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 
You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 
He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 
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AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖
“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"
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My Masterlist
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first-edition · 2 months
Text
Bent Over
Summary- You may be Bucky’s assistant but your still is pretty wife. When the other board members take a liking to you bucky puts them in their place by showing them exactly who you belong two.
Cw- literally just smut basically, P-in-V, Unprotected, doggystyle, hair pulling, choking kink, Sargent! Authority kink, reader has long hair and wears heels, Afab reader, brief mention of drool, dirt talk, public sex, exhibitionistm kink, dom/sub, Dom!bucky, CEO!bucky, assistant reader, spanking, pet names, brief clit play, bucky fucking you raw over the meeting table with others watch. SLIGHTLY PROOF READ.
A/N this is by far the most….UNHOLY thing I’ve ever written in my 11 years of writing fanfiction and smut so i encourage you to read the content warning above and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
ENJOY
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You've worked for Bucky for hydra company since you were born. You previously worked for your father Alexander Pierce when you turned 14. But when his assistant double crossed him and killed him, that same assistant, James Buchanan Barnes took over the company at 18. At first you hated him having nothing left, not like your father was good. Of course the company should've gone to you..and well it did but at 14 years old it wasn't yours to run. 
You two would bicker and often hand in hand fight regardless of being his assistant. Many year later and many fail assanation attempts on him you married him. You've been James's assistant for 11 years, and you've been married to him for 3. Your bickering had ended in a lust induced fight that led to feeling being expressed at gunpoint then a rough night that left you partially, and deliciously crippled the next morning, which prompted Bucky to make you breakfast in bed and draw you a bath. 
Your work relationship is far different from home. At home he never lets you only want you whether that's wrapping his arms around you for a cuddle or being balls deep in your cunt. 
At work however he's the right amount of distance and so are you. It's become a mutual thing to not let anyone know in the tower that you and the big boss are married. 
You walk into the building holding a tray of coffees and an arm full of files. Your hair up in a ponytail, you wear a black knee high pencil skirt with a fairly loose but classy dark blue blouse, your black stockings paired with the jet black louis vuittons red bottoms bucky bought you last week. 
“I made the coffee run.” you say setting the tray down in the office room. 
Everyone who orders comes scrambling to their order without a thank you as usual. 
“You do a lot around her, don't you miss pierce.” you hear an older man's voice speak and you turn to see one of the board members and the other men on his team behind him. 
“Welcome Mr Cain you are early..i'll have to let mr barnes know.” you say pursing your lips in slight annoyance. 
“Yes well i'm not going to miss a chance at this pretty face now am I?” he says lifting your chin you pull away from him. 
“Excuse Me.” you say before turning back and walking down the hall area. They of course unauthorizedly follow close behind you. You stop at bucky's office doors as the desk girl presses the button allowing the doors to open you step in seeing bucky standing over to the window watching the morning view of the city as he shines up his metal hand, which your father gave him after a coup was sent on him he used bucky as a human shield. 
“Mr barnes. It appears Mr Cain has arrived early.” you says 
“Love the way you say my name sweetheart.” Cain speaks slapping your ass making you jump and wanting you punch the ever living outta him. 
“Hmm.” Bucky hums as he turns to see Mr cain. 
“Are the others here?” he asks you. 
“No sir…they will be arriving at 8. Like you asked.” you say knowing bucky will be pissed off at cain with being early and treating you as such. A small smile forming on your face. 
“You're 15 minutes early Cain. Were you offered coffee or bourbon? " Bucky says. 
“No james-” Cain begins. 
“Good.” Bucky cuts him off. He looks to you and holds out his hands for the files. You walk over to him handing them to your beloved husband. He takes a moment to look through the pages.
“Early Mr Cain but lacking in so many areas, your files aren't in the stock.” he says. 
“I had it transferred digitally.” Cain speaks proudly. Bucky tilts his head to the side slightly and nods a bit before handing the files back to you. You walk to the cabinet and bend down to sort them into the right orders. You hear a crash and a grunt knowing Cain is face down on the table and Bucky is holding him there. 
“Im old school Cain i like the files printed, i also like to be on time, not early, not late…on. Fucking. Time.” bucky huffs cain struggles against the cold black marble desk. 
“Understood?” Bucky asks. 
“Y-yes..sir..” Cain gurgles out. Bucky lets him go and stands up fixing his suit. 
“Good. I'll see you in um….10 minutes. Office room 8. y/n.” bucky says looking at you as you close the files cabinet. 
“Yes sir?” you ask completely unfazed but the situation as Cain picks himself up. 
“Send the maid in to clean up the mess and get room 8 ready for the meeting… also escort Mr Cain out and show twords the room.” he says you nod your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out cain following you. 
—-------
You stand on the side of the door way welcoming the men of the board into the meeting room one by one they all join in and in some way in their own eye fuck you, or get a touch of you in some way. 
They all take their seats and bucky walks in after them. You're about to close the door when he stops you. 
“I'll need you for this one doll.” He says he never calls you his personal nickname at work. 
“S-sir?” you ask 
“Come on love.” he says, taking your hand leading you into the room. He takes a seat at the head of the table as usual and you stand beside him. 
“So I realize that we are gathered here for the section rating. How our router facilities are going and what we are going to do about the one that got taken down. Simply kill the one in charge, the router taken down, and forty the rest." Bucky begins. 
“In the budget.” someone begins. Bucky holds his hand up. 
“The budget is not the problem. The problem is that we have to much money and aren't using it to put more into the structure..but that's not the problem i want to address today no…the harassment and sexualization of my wife is getting out of hand.'' Bucky speaks and stands up pushing his chair back. 
“J-james.” you speak quietly. 
“I don't know what you men think but i think that the only one here who gets to touch her is me…don't you?” bucky speaks undoing his belt, your knees feel of jello and a shiver goes up your spine. 
Bucky pulls you to him and presses his lips to yours deeply he grips a handful of your ass before pushing you back against the table, your back laying against it he pushing up your skirt and rips open the front of your shirt. 
“I think you all need a fuckign lesson about who my assistant is and your gonna sit their like good students and fucking watch.” bucky grunts out as your laced bra is exposed he grips your neck pulling you up to him and gently takes out your ponytail letting your hair fall. 
“What do you think of these dirty old men touching you honey?” he asks you. You bite your lip making a bucky smile knowing what that does to him. 
“Your hands trails down his front to his crotch feeling the bulge already full in his pants straining against the fabric. You pull down the zipper causing him to slip out, you take him in your hand giving his length a few good strokes before he pushes back against the table he moves your panties to the side briefly only to rip them off throwing them in the room. With out warning or prep he enters you roughly you mouth falls open and a moan escapes as he begins to fuck up into you. 
“n-ngh..James.” you gasp out in pleasure. 
“Come on princess, don't hide those pretty sounds from us.” he says a violent blush fills your face but the arousal going on between your legs blurs out any embarrassment. Your husband is fucking you out silly, on the table of the meeting room infront of the entire board and you are loving every second of it. 
“Come on doll you gotta l–let em know who you belong to. You the fuck put tha pretty ring on your finger?” bucky huffs. 
“Y-you did ahh. Fu-fuck.. You did.” you maon out in fragments as he pulls you bra down exposing your tits gripping one and continuing to fuck you his thumb brushing over your hardend bud and the stimulation in you cunt is enough for you cum once. 
“F-fuck james..ah” you grip his hand as your cunt squeezes around his cock. 
“Come on love you cant keep this a secrect you fucking cumming?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 
“Y-y-yes ah..m-more please.” you ask breathlessly. He pulls out of you for a quick moment before turning you on your stomach and taking you from behind. Your nails claw at the table as he pounds into you. 
“Come on honey gotta show em your gorgeous face dont yah.” he pulls you up you back against him his left hand around your neck making your eyes roll back in pleasure and happiness on the dominance he has over you. While his other hand reaches down to your clit rubbing and playing perfectly. 
“Ah! AH” you moan out a broken gasp as your knees merge in over stimulation. 
“Come on… take it like a good girl.” Bucky groans into your ear knowing that the other men can absolutely hear him. 
Your arms reach about your head holding onto bucky as best as you can, your tits bouncing freely, men both looking away and can't take their eyes off the display right in front of them. 
“Come one baby you gonna fucking cum for me again huh?” bucky grunts. 
“Y-yes ah fuck yes.. Please i- i want it so b-bad. Please im your..ah please sargent” you beg. Bucky knowing full well he has you in the palm of his hand now with how cock drunk he's easily gotten you. 
His hold around your neck loosens and he lets you back onto the table pressing his hand onto the small of your back feeling the arch making him groan. 
“Such a good fucking girl for me huh? For everyone here being so fucking obedient.” bucky barks out sending a harsh slap on your ass for you only making  you clench around his cock. Surging pleasure though him. Skin slapping against skin as he fucks you out.
“Fuck.” he huffs. He grips your hair pulling your head back, your drunken expression facing all the men drool dripping as your tongue hangs out. The pleasurable tears stinging the sides of your eyes blurring your vision. 
“I- im gonna c-cum ah- fuck.. Please please ah..” you messily beg. 
“Come on doll cum.” he demands out from you a few more thrusts later he has you cumming for the second time. His thrusts become weaker and sloppy as he curses with a rough few thrusts in you emptying his load into your pussy filling you up. He pushes his hair back as he pulls out of you. Bucky gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting you up against him your fucked you dazed happy expression is glowing for the others in the room. 
“obedience..is taught gentleman respect is earned. Any of you flaccid fucking shit faces touch her again or dare to question my authority with USLESS BOARD MEETINGS… Ill send someone to each and everyone of you and put a bullet or two right between your fucking eyes. Is that Understood?” Bucky speaks. 
“Yes sir.” they all say in broken unison. 
“Get the fuck out.” Bucky says they scramble out gathering their things and falling out the door before it's just the two of you left. You giggle out a tired giggle. 
Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, setting you down gently and brings his chair over. 
“Come here doll. You alright?” he asks you nod looking at him with lust filled eyes. 
A smile fills his face as his thumb brushes against your cheek. He sits you down in his chair. 
He takes off his jacket, placing it around you. “Come on honey imma take you home i don't think you can work today or tomorrow.” he smiles before kissing your lips. 
“W-we should do this again then yeah?” you ask as he picks you up bridal style. 
“Id be happy to fuck you infront of the presedent next week.” he chuckles. Making you laugh.
—-my requests are open—-
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greynatomy · 2 months
Text
rivals?
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alexia putellas x messi!reader
request here
with all the alexia angst being posted (my fault), here’s some fluff
———
In the world of professional football, rivalry between two players are always one that many fans are eager to watch.
In the men’s world of football, there was Messi and Ronaldo.
In the women’s, Messi and Putellas. Two of the most sought after female footballers of this time.
You and Alexia were known as fierce rivals on the field when competing for your country. You for Argentina, Alexia for Spain. Both of your competitiveness fueling debates among fans. Little did everyone know, behind the scenes, you both shared a secret that could rival the on-field intensity.
Away from the spotlight, you and Alexia were much more than rivals and teammates — you were married.
Your love story began when you’d transferred from playing in the Women’s Super League to Barça. From the first time she’d laid her eyes on you, there was an instant connection. At first she didn’t know how to feel about your transfer, only having played against you for the national team, where the rivalry grew and grew, but as you both played for Barça, the understanding and pressure you both experience helped you grow closer.
Late-night rendezvous, secret getaways, and coded messages allowed you to maintain your privacy. It was difficult to keep everything a secret, something you’ve both agreed on. Time moved quickly from the first time she’d seen you in a Barça kit to now, six years later.
You’re both cuddled up on the couch, watching a replay of the match you’ve just played, pointing out the things you and the team could have done better, when you heard some whining on the baby monitor searched up on the coffee table.
With a kiss to your head, Alexia got up to see what the fuss was all about. You watched on through the monitor, seeing how your wife delicately held and talked to your two year old, making you fall in love with her all over again.
“See look there’s Mami.” Alexia points you out, walking in with Rosa in her arms.
“Mami.” Rosa mumbles, arms reaching out for you, cuddling into your body once in your hold.
“How was your nap, bebé?”
All you got was a whine. Alexia cuddles back into your side as Rosa falls back into a slumber.
“I’ve been thinking.” Alexia starts.
“Uh oh. Mamá has been thinking.” You tease, earning you a playful shove.
“Seriously. Rosa turned two a bit ago and I want to be able to show her what her Mami and Mamá do or work. The environment which all the fans.”
Alexia starts to ramble. Saving her from spiraling, you place a hand over her mouth stopping her words.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
With a bright smile on her face, Alexia pulls you in a passionate kiss, careful to not wake your daughter up.
Three weeks later, Spain has a friendly match against Argentina. Everyone played hard no matter that it was only a friendly, the match ending in a draw.
As far as the public knew, you and Alexia were still rivals, enemies, or any other term they use, so whenever they see you conversing after matches, fans and media freak out, like right now.
What the fans didn’t expect was a small child running into your arms with laughter. Standing up with Rosa in your arms, Alexia wraps her arms around both of you, kisses being placed on her cheeks by both of her moms.
To say the fans and media were exploding was an understatement.
“Alexia, they need for media.”
Alexia settles herself at the table in front of all the press, waiting for the questions to come.
“Hola, Alexia. Great game today.”
“Thank you.”
After a couple of questions about the match, a little kid is seen throwing themselves onto Alexia.
“Mamá!”
A second person is seen chasing after the child.
“Sorry, sorry. She’s gotten fast.”
You run in, trying to grab Rosa from your wife, who is wriggling to make her harder to hold.
“You can leave her here.”
“You sure?”
She nods so you give them both a kiss on the head and walk out the room.
“Sorry about that.”
“Who do we have here? If you don’t mind us asking.”
“Bebé can you tell them your name?”
“Soy Rosa Putellas.”
The room let out a collective ‘aww’.
“So-so she’s your daughter?” A reporter stutters, stunned by the little girl.
“Yes.”
“And Messi’s?”
“Yes.”
The room full reporters burst, questions being asked over the others. Alexia just stands up, walking out of the room.
“I think you broke them.” Is the first thing you say when she walks into the locker room.
“Eh.” She shrugs. “Makes it fun.”
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