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latenightdaydreams · 3 days

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I have an idea that Konig is Ghostface and he's been stalking reader for a while. He found out reader is a bookworm outside but literally a cunt inside. Like she never comes to parties, spend hours with her vibration instead. One night, Konig sneaks in her house and rape her fat unused pussy 😩😩😩

🤭🤭🤭YES😮‍💨

Ghostface!König x Nerd!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫TRIGGERS🚫

>cw: fem/afab, cnc, bondage, voyeurism, stalking

3.1k word count

👻

The first time König saw you was at the campus Valentine's Day party. You showed up dressed in a festive pink sweater, but then sat in the corner with a stank look on your face. His eyes followed you as you seemingly complained to the girl you came with, a friend? Either way, your breasts and sensual body shape caught his attention.

König walks up to a guy that’s talking to your friend, “Wer ist das?” He asks, pointing to you.

“She’s a bitch,” the girl's friend hits his chest as if to tell him to shut up.

“She’s just shy. She hates parties.” Christa, your friend, defends you.

They all stand there and watch you gather your things and walk out the door without saying bye to anyone, not even your friend. Interesting. What type of woman are you? He was intrigued and wanted to see more of you. See what those bouncy breasts look like outside of that pink sweater.

After this first encounter, he dedicated his time to following you around campus. First, only to figure out what your schedule was. What classes do you take, what teacher do you have, what building the classes are in, etc. Just the basics.

He stalks behind you, far enough behind that you’d never notice; but close enough to listen in on any conversations you had. Which was basically zero. You kept to yourself no matter what you were doing. If someone interacted with you, you’d have such a poor attitude about it. Snappy, short, lots of eye rolling. This went on for two months.

One day, König set up a forced interaction. Dressed casually and slicked his blonde hair back. He looks handsome, standing at 6 '10 and being pure muscle. He knows he is attractive; his personality just sucks, much like yours seems to.

He lingers outside your second class of the day and looks around as if he were a lost student. Once he sees you, he walks over.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Your eyes dart to him as you take out an air pod. “What?” Your tone is unkind.

“I’m lost and I don’t know which room-”

“I’m late for class.” You cut him off and walk past him.

König just watches as you walk away with a smirk on his face. He knows once he has you in his hands, he’d have fun breaking you. After that, he waits for you to leave class and follow you home. Since you would not get to know him the typical way, he would continue getting to know you in the shadows.

You walk fast, but he has no issues keeping up. Your hips sway hypnotically, keeping his attention. Finally, you stop at a cute one-story home. He watches as you take your keys out and enter your home. Waiting a few minutes before he walks up to peek into your windows. He looks around to make sure no neighbors are watching as he walks up to your house, crouching.

Eyes peering through the first window, he sees your living room. Your shoes kicked off by the door, TV turned on already, and backpack thrown on the couch. His eyes scan the room, trying to take in every detail.

Continuing on he comes to the next window. He sees you and ducks back, worried you might have seen him. After a few seconds of no screams, he creeps back to the window. There you are. Taking off your shirt and jeans, just standing there in your beige bra and blue cotton panties. Totally unaware you’re being watched as you check yourself out in your dresser's mirror.

Watching like a hawk as you open the top draw and pull out a pink little vibrator. König could already feel his pants begin to tighten. You walk to your bed, grabbing a towel that’s folded underneath the bed. Laying the towel out, getting your pillows situated, and moving the blanket. It’s almost like a ritual and König’s interest is definitely piqued.

He watches as you lie down on the bed. Your pretty pussy covered with a little bit of hair, as you spread your legs he can see the pink within your folds. Fuck this is gold…

König quickly undoes his pants as he watches you pick a setting before moving it to your little clit. Through the window he can hear how loud you’re being, your legs twitch from the stimulation. All the while König stands there feverishly stroking his leaky cock. Imagining him running up to you and shoving his cock in that tight little pussy…

Your hips begin to grind into the vibrator as your head drops back on to your pillows. Your left leg is starting to tremble… König watches without blinking as your innocent pussy begins to squirt. Fingers replacing the vibrator, you start rubbing your clit quickly. Your sweet juices are spraying everywhere. He bites his lip as he begins to cum, accidently cumming on the siding of your house. It felt as if he were a wild animal and just marked you, leaving his scent behind to deter other predators.

This became a ritual for König as the school year went on. He would follow you around campus, watch who you talk to, see how you interact with the world. Occasionally he would try to go up to you and just talk nicely, but every time you shot him down. As if you’re better than him. Then he would follow you home and masturbate outside your window as you play with your tiny cunt.

That was until summer break happened. You went away to work as a camp counselor for the summer, leaving König behind. With you gone, König felt lost. He spent most of the summer inside watching porn. Looking for actresses that resemble you, but none could match your perfect breasts or pretty pink cunt.

August rolls around and classes start back up. König walks into his social science class and sees you… perfect. You sit in the front, middle. Teacher’s pet know-it-all, of course you’d pick there to sit.

König sits in the very back, where he has a clear line of view in your direction. He watches as you rest your head in the palm of your hand. How you cross your legs and squeeze, as if you’re trying to stimulate some sort of pleasure. Little slut, you can’t even control yourself in class. All the obsession comes rushing back to him. He needs you.

Halloween rolls around. König is handed a flier for a costume party that will be happening at one of the sororities here on campus. His new friend Carl, your friend’s boyfriend, goes out with him to buy costumes.

They both walk through the Halloween store and talk casually. He tries to think of ways to ask about you without being so direct.

“Is Christas bitch friend coming?” König chuckles to make it seem less important to him.

“Y/n? Probably not. She never shows to support anything Christa does. When she does, she’s in a foul mood and just leaves. It breaks Christas heart.” He sounded genuinely upset with you and your behavior.

“What’s her deal anyway?”

“I don’t know. Little stuck up virgin bitch thinks she’s better than Christa because she’s waiting until marriage.”

Virgin. That’s why you only touch your clit; you don’t want to “pop” your cherry.

“Is she religious?”

“Probably. I never cared to ask. Let’s just hope she doesn’t show up and ruin it.”

“Yeah.” König didn’t want you to show up, but for a very different reason. He had something special in the works.

Reaching up, König grabs a Ghostface mask and holds it up to his face. “Hey, what about this?”

Halloween night, König puts on the black robe over a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt, and a small satchel bag that has duct tape and rope. A real knife in his hand. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at himself. Blonde hair longer and pushed back, dark circles under her icy blue eyes, and a twisted look on his face.

“You got this. You can do it.” He whispers as he slips the mask over his face.

König leaves his shared apartment on campus and walks down the street while the sun is just beginning to set. Other students rush past him, all heading to their own Halloween parties. Towering over everyone dressed as Ghostface, he had a few people jump out of fear. From behind the mask, he apologizes while laughing. As if he is a normal guy.

Finally, he approaches the steps on the sorority. Walking inside he sees that there are a few other Ghostface at the party already. König rolls his eyes under the masks. His attention turns to the staircase as he hears Christa and Carl arguing. Without being seen, he walks closer to listen in. It’s clear that she’s talking about y/n.

You bailed. Probably home studying or making yourself squirt. The thought gives König a chub. You’re exactly where he hoped you would be. At first, he was nervous this wouldn’t work out for him. No, you never change. Easy to track. Before he is seen, he slips out of the doors.

He blends in easily for once in his life. Everyone dressed up like freaks or sluts. The giant isn’t the main focal point today. Once he enters your neighborhood, he notices the empty streets, but very loud house music. All of your neighbors seem to gather, yet your home's lights are on.

Cautiously, he approaches your living room window. Boom, there you are, asleep on the couch. The TV on TLC, some random trash television show. He attempts to lift the window in front of him, but it’s locked. Moving down a window to your bedroom, also locked. König walks around the back and tries the back door, locked. The kitchen window is a little smaller, but he still tries it. Open.

Carefully, König climbs through the window. His massive body just barely begins to fit, but he manages. Slowly he climbs off of the counter that was right under the window, being sure to not kick anything off the counter and possibly wake you up.

Once stable on the floor he stood there for a while and looked around your kitchen. Your style was quirky, which was odd because you act as if you have no personality. Before waking you up, he goes into the bedroom and gets that towel you keep under your bed. He lays it out on the bed the same way you do. Even arranging the pillows and blanket for you.

Reaching into his bag under his black robes, he takes out the rope and tape. The rope he leaves on the bed as he walks out of the bedroom with the tape. He pulls some and he can be quick to shut you up.

With soft steps he makes his way to the living room. He can see your hands are in your hands as if you fell asleep masturbating. A virgin whore. He’s ready to just make you into his whore. Standing over you as you sleep; eyes drifting over your breast and the tiny bit of midriff that is showing.

Slowly lowering his face closer to you until he sees your eyes open. At first it’s as if you didn’t register what you saw. König tilts his head. Then you open your eyes again and begin to scream. Quickly he covers your mouth with the tape.

“Shhh,” his eyes go wild behind the mask.

You try to stand and get away but his massive body easily overpowers yours and slams you back down into the couch.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses as he cuts the tape with the knife. Pulling more, he adds an extra layer.

With ease he lifts your body from the couch, pinning your arms to your side so you can’t hit him. Your legs kicking as he brings you into your room; eyes going wide as you see that he set the bed up the same way you set up when you masturbate.

König giggles looking at your face, “I did good, ja?”

He grabs the rope and tosses you on the bed. As you try to stand up, he pushes you back hard, “Give up Maus, you’re mine tonight.”

Using his massive body to pin you down, he climbs on top of you. Your face down into the mattress as he grabs one of your arms and pins it behind your back before grabbing the other. He uses the rope to tie your hands together, tight enough to dig into your flesh.

“I’ll show you how to have a really good time.”

König stands and grabs your body, turning you to rest on your back, nuzzled in the pillows like when you masturbate. He walks to your dresser and takes out the small pink vibrator. You look up at him with wide eyes, it’s clear that he’s been watching you.

“Now, don’t move, or I might cut you.” He says leaning back over your body as he begins to cut your shirt from your body. Your full breasts come into view and he can’t help the temptation of reaching up and pinching your nipple. You try to scream through the tape, but the sound is muffled.

His attention drops down to the waistband of your pajama pants. Slowly he pulls them down. Seeing your cunt face to face instead of at a distance was breathtaking. Speechless, he moves his fingers through the soft hair that covers your pussy. Finally, he can feel you, smell you, taste you.

“If you move, I’ll gut you.” He threatens as he begins to settle himself between your legs.

He lifts his mask slightly and takes in a deep breath of what your pussy smells like. It’s almost sinful. He has to taste it. Slowly he slips his tongue out and swipes it through your folds. You squirm slightly but stop, remembering the knife. He swipes his tongue up again. If he knew you were this sweet, he would have broken in sooner.

Shoving his face into your pussy he takes a deep breath before sucking on your clit. He bites it lightly, causing you pain as your body jerks away. Not letting you move; he wraps his arms around your legs tightly to hold you still. Spit running down his chin as he aggressively laps at your cunt. He slurps your pussy juice before biting your labia. Again, you jerk in pain and König just laughs as he pulls his mask back down.

Once he stands from the bed he just looks down at your naked body. He begins to pull off the black robe, tossing aside the satchel. Stripping down to his birthday suit, but the mask stays on. His body is massive with a cock so heavy it hangs.

He grabs your pink vibrator and turns it on, gently holding it to your clit. His eyes light up as your legs begin to tremble. Muffled little moans escaping your lips. You can’t help but to feel pleasure, even though you’re in this situation.

“Good…kleine Hure.” He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside. Inching closer to you, he slaps his cock on your pussy a few times.

“Ready?”

You shake your head no and try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your legs and drags you back to him. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy.”

Looking down at your cunt he rubs the head of his cock back and forth over your clit. Slowly he slips down. With one hard thrust of his hips, he bullies his monster cock deep inside of your unused pussy. The tightness of your cunt was something only his hand had ever given him.

“Mien Gott, you really were a virgin.” He chuckled.

König grabs your legs and lets them fall over his arms as he holds your ass up off the bed slightly. His hips rolling rapidly into you, looking down he can see blood on his cock. A soft growl leaves his lips.

He lets your legs drop as he leans over you, one of his hands wrapping around your throat lightly. “My fat unprotected cock just ruined your pretty virgin cunt.”

You try to turn your head away from him as tears begin to roll down your eyes, but he doesn’t let you. He turns your head back to face him.

“Eyes open. I want to see the shame when I make you cum.”

You open your eyes as you have no choice but to listen. His free hand reaches down between your legs and begins to rub your clit. Trying to resist the pleasure was impossible, your legs tremble as your pussy feels as if it were torn in two.

He watches as you shake your head no. Your pussy getting tighter on his cock, he knew. He pulls out quickly, shoving his middle and ring finger into you. He presses down on the lower part of your stomach as his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

You drop your head back and he slaps your pussy, “Eyes on me!” His voice a low growl.

Lifting you head back up to look at him, your eyes cross from the explosion of pleasure you’re feeling. You squirt, hitting the Ghostface mask slightly, getting it all over König’s hands and arms.

“That’s what I want to see!” He excitedly slips his cock back into your pussy. His eyes watch as you wince in pain.

His hips move mercilessly into you. “I’m going to cum deep inside of this pussy. You’re going to get pregnant with my babies. You like staying home anyway, right?”

The look on your face as he talks down to you is full of fear and it’s just enough to get him off. He presses his cock fully into you, your cries of pain muffled buts still so beautiful. König cums deep inside of you. His seamen painting every inch of your velvety walls. A loud groan leaves his mouth as he tries to press in even further.

The look on your face is almost relieved as he cums, that means this is over with. So, you thought. He pulls his cock out, covered in blood and cum. In one quick motion he flips you on to your stomach, pulling you down the bed a little. He sits on the bed now, one leg on either side of you. König leans forward to pull the tape off of your mouth and drags you closer to him by your shoulders.

“You’re going to clean this.” He says slapping his cock on your face a few times. “Open.”

You don’t struggle, opening your mouth wide. The taste of salty cum and blood assaults your taste buds. His hand grasping a fist full of hair and shoving his cock down your throat. Your body thrashes, legs kicking as you gag.

“Get used to it, Maus. My cock isn’t leaving your throat any time soon.”

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cute-sucker · 1 day

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note: this is a continuation of ex-husband rafe headcannons !! please send requests about this relationship! would love to write more about this <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier and you hated every bit of it, specifically when you started to date again. it was like alarms went off in his head, as he started to show up more. you hadn't told anyone about dating anyone, but your therapist had recommended it.

she'd eased you into it, telling you maybe it was time to put yourself out there into the market. you had shook you head, and laughed at the suggestion, who would want you? a single mother with a obsessive ex-husband. but then suddenly you started to consider it. there was nothing wrong with it, so you accidentally brought it up to rafe.

you had been a bit tipsy, after downing a few fruity cocktail at rafe's work party. you still went to them even though the two of you weren't married. you tried not to notice the way rafe was still wearing the golden band around his neck, and the way his hand travelled to the low part of your back.

"hi," you whispered to him, leaning on him. he looked surprised, of course he was, anytime you saw him you were either scolding or glaring at him, and for you to be giving him your prettiest bright smile? that was something.

"hi sweets," he replied back softly adjusting your dress before dropping his gaze to your lips, and quickly back to your eyes. "what's on that pretty mind?"

you giggled, feeling happy as you looked up to him, "i think i'm going to start dating again. i think it will be good for me, what do you think rafe?" you asked him, before sipping your drink again.

you missed the way that rafe's eyes narrowed at your confession or the way his arms got tighter around your waist, hand going up to touch his nose. yet you felt a little unconformable, as you tried to wiggle away from his tight arms.

"yea? what gave you that idea?" he asked you quietly, yet his words felt razor sharp as he gritted his teeth, "who put that silly idea in your head?"

here you frowned, absentmindedly twirling your straw in your pink glass, "um," you started feeling your throat clogg up, "i don't know i thought-? why you think i'm not pretty enough? that i'm ugly now that i've had a baby."

"no, of course now sweets. but i just think it's a bad idea," he said biting his lip, tilting his head in that innocent way. it grated on you, and you rolled your eyes and you felt yourself sober up.

"fuck you cameron. fuck you," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes, before sniffling and you shoving your drink into his hands.

you tried to forget that. after all the both of you pretended it never happened, practically tip toing after one and other. he still came around once and while, trying to be sweet on you before you muttered something with an annoyed expression to get him off you.

and for a while you didn't see him, untill the day you were going on a date. you had a pretty dress on, dangly earings and a diamond necklace. all dolled up, you absentmindedly hummed under your breath feeling a bit nervous, only to hear the front door click open.

there he was. rafe cameron staring at you as you were making your breakfast. he quickly made away to put his arms around your waist, taking a deep breath of your perfume. "you smell good. all of that for me?" he teased, and you made an uncommitted hum.

"hey baby," he said to your baby girl with an easy smile, winking at your little girl who ran into his arms.

"aww you've grown, haven't ya?" rafe cooed to your little girl who jumped nodding furiously. she was holding some flowers in her hand, and had little pigtails. then she told him she had to show him how high she could jump, and he nodded raising his eyebrows in interest, but you didn't miss the way he scanned you and your party dress.

you wanted to give him a dirty look, but when he made your daughter happy like that there was nothing you could do but smile under your breath hoping that he wouldn't notice. you continued to prepare the pancakes, licking the chocolate batter and tossing in a few blueberries.

finally, he seemed to pluck up the courage to ask you. you felt your body tense up feeling anxious.

"where are you going?" he asked softly, eyes watching you move in the kitchen, "you look too pretty to just be dressed up." you closed your eyes, letting out a tired sigh. you could almost feel your throat clog up as you balled up your fists.

you had to tell him. couldn't lie, because rafe cameron would figure out anything he wanted. there was a reason he was a good business man it was because he continued to go for what he wanted leaving other things in the process.

"i have a date today," you said slowly, sprinkling powdered sugar on the warm pancakes, and before he could open his mouth you quickly started to speak again, "daisy, come in sweetie! breakfast is ready."

the look he gave you told you things were not done.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

"so who's the guy?" he asks you with a measured look, and you try to ignore the way he's gritting his jaw, and the way he's eying you in that predatory way.

you sighed, putting away your plates. daisy is gone playing with the new toy that daddy got for her. how convenient, you thought, it was almost as if what was going to happen. as if he had planned this all.

"just a random guy."

"lucky guy."

"alright, rafe, just say it!" you hissed out, spinning to look him the eye. "just say what you came for."

rafe closed his eyes, running a hand over his hair, "listen. if it was up to me you would live with me, we'd still be married, and there would be a random guy!"

"well good thing it's not up to you then huh?" you spat back, pointing an accusiatory finger to his chest, "you made a decision when we were married. you. not me. you were gone for nights and nights for work, it felt as if i was drowning and, you screwed this up."

"you think i don't know that?" rafe muttered back, throwing his hands in the air, "you think i don't wake up every day knowing i lost the best woman in my life."

you felt tears well up in your eyes, "no, you can't say that. you can't say something like that. not after everything."

"fine. have fun in with your date."

and then he's gone again leaving you with your shattered heart.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚

rafe cameron being your ex-husband made nothing easier yet when you came back that night crying over the phone, telling him how he screwed up everything for you, he still picked up. he came over, nursing you back to health, his soothing warm hands on your back as you sobbed into his chest.

the two of you stay like that, a parallel of what could have been.

taglist: @bouearis , @kys4-20 , @rafeecameronsbitch , @mrsbarnesblog , @slytherins-heir

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beauty-brains-braun · 2 days

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Better

Hawks wants to get back together. Your best friend Bakugo has some thoughts on that.

mdni 18+

Pairings: Bakugo/fem reader, mentioned Past Hawks/ fem reader

Tags/TW: Smut, Aged-Up Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Jealousy

Your eyes tracked Keigo as he crossed the bar, stopping every few seconds to chat with one person or another. He hadn't spotted you yet. You'd really like to be looking elsewhere once he did but you couldn't seem to look away.

If you’d known he’d be here, you would have stayed home. Shouldn’t he have been off being an asshole somewhere else? How could he possibly fit this party into his busy schedule of preening and backstabbing? His head started to turn in your direction and you looked away so fast you felt your neck pop.

Katsuki Bakugo was sneering at you when you looked his way. “When are you going to get over that loser?”

“I am over him. He just infuriates me.” You lean a little closer to your best friend. “You wouldn’t be interested in flirting with me real quick though, by any chance?”

He snorted so hard, he almost choked on his beer. “No chance in hell, you better find Kirashima.”

You put your hand on his arm and laughed a touch too loudly, leaning against him. Kiri was not going to get the job done, Keigo had always been insanely jealous of your friendship with Katsuki and what would truly heal you was pissing the feathered man off.

“You have got to be joking.” Katsuki said, blinking incredulously. “This is you flirting? How do you keep finding boyfriends?” He held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe this is exactly why you only date losers.”

“Ouch” You put your hand to your chest. “Let’s walk that back several feet. I am excellent at flirting, I just usually have a partner who gives me something to work with.”

“You want something to work with?” He asked, setting down his beer.

“It would be ni-” You were cut off as he pulled from your stool, and spun you so your back touched the bar. You blinked rapidly in shock as your eyes met his crimson pair, sparkling deviously.

Katsuki’s arms brushed against yours where he caged you in and he leaned forwards, placing his mouth next to your ear. “Like this?”

Your throat was suddenly extremely dry and you struggled to respond, eventually just deciding to nod. A mistake because his mouth brushed your skin at the movement and lightning tingled up your spine.

He leaned back, just far enough to see your face, and you noticed his devious expression had been replaced by something else. Something you struggled to recognize.

A throat cleared nearby, startling you both. You looked up to find Keigo standing there, face twisted into a frown and eyes burning with annoyance. You’d forgotten he was even here.

“Keigo. What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he asked and you almost smirked at the tone in his voice. Pissing him off had not been hard.

“We are talking, unfortunately.”

“Can we talk privately?”

“Fuck off, Hawks. She’s busy.” Katsuki glared hard at Hawks and the other man’s eyes narrowed in response. You sighed loudly, suddenly annoyed with both of them. They had always hated each other, though in all fairness Katsuki hated anyone higher than him on the hero chart. Privately, you thought he’d pass Hawks soon but the thought had always felt like a betrayal.

“Let’s not start, guys. You’re going to ruin Mina’s birthday. Again. Remember last year’s incident? With the cake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but Keigo turned back to you. “Can we just go outside and talk then? Please. Just for a minute.”

“Fine.” You gave in, too tired to fight him. You’d never been all that good at saying no to him.

“This is not a good idea.” Katsuki growled, turning back to you, arms still caging you in.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, placing your hand on his arm briefly, before moving out of his hold and following Keigo outside.

***********

Forty-five minutes later you were in your shower, letting the hot water wash the day off of your shoulders. You were alone, exhausted, and a little too proud of yourself for successfully holding your ground. Keigo had wanted to get back together but you’d told him no. He’d hurt you too badly. He’d demanded to know if something was going on with you and Katsuki. You told him what you did was none of his damn business anymore. He had made sure of that. After your talk you were left more confident than before that you were over him but you’d just wanted to get out of there so you texted Katsuki and Mina and came home. You were going to have to do some serious groveling to Mina but that was a problem for tomorrow..

You were turning off the water when someone began pounding loudly on your front door. Wrapping a giant towel around yourself, you went to answer it. Confused as to who would be knocking on your door like they’d like to break it down, you pulled it open suddenly, blinking in surprise to find Katsuki standing there, fist flying uselessly through the air as he tried to keep banging on a door that was no longer there.

“Is something wrong??” You looked him over for an injury.

Katsuki glared at you. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” You asked, confused. “Are you mad I left because-”

“Yes, I’m mad you left! That asshole completely shredded your heart and you still leave with him? Where the fuck is he? I’m going to kick his ass.” Katsuki pushed past you into your apartment and disappeared into your bedroom.

Wait. He thought you’d left with Keigo? You followed him. “Katsuki, no one else is here. Not that it’s any of your business, actually, but I told Keigo to leave me alone.”

“Not my business?” He asked, voice raising slightly. “Who has to hear about it every single time your shitty taste in men comes back to bite you in the ass? Who has spent a decade watching you choose wrong again and again?”

Ouch. Your chest hurt suddenly and you turned away from him. Katsuki had always been there for you and it had never occurred to you that he resented it. “Sorry, I’ll just keep my poor choices to myself from now on.” You tried to walk away but his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” You turned to look at him, fighting tears.

“I’m saying choose better.” He pulled you closer seconds before his mouth crashed into yours.

The lighting you felt up your spine at the bar earlier returned, this time coursing through your entire body. You were frozen in shock, the last thing you’d ever expected was Katsuki to kiss you.

He pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you obviously aren’t interested in-”

You didn’t let him finish the sentence, pulling him back to you and kissing him this time. He kissed you back immediately, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you as close to him as you could get. His other hand, he brought up to cup your neck and you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. Your nipples hardened and you were suddenly very aware that the only thing you were wearing was a towel.

Katsuki’s mouth left yours and he trailed kisses down your jaw and to your neck, making you gasp. “Can I taste you? “ He asked suddenly and heat flared through you. “I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.” His crimson eyes were dark with lust and you found yourself nodding. The sight of him dropping to his knees before you would be cemented into your brain until you died. He reached for the edge of the towel and tugged firmly, eyes drinking you in the moment it dropped away.

“Fuck” he whispered. His fingers brushed your skin, trailing up your legs almost reverently to grasp your legs and spread them. His lips touched your skin, kissing your inner thighs, before he turned his head and his tongue found your clit then snaked down to your entrance, lapping up the juices he found there then returning his attention to your clit until your legs shook and threatened to collapse. He pulled away, looking up into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Katsuki got to his feet and kissed you so deeply, you could taste yourself on his tongue. He moved you both back a few steps and laid you down onto your bed before stepping back and removing his shirt. Your eyes drank in his muscles greedily and then he removed his pants. Your eyes dipped lower and widened at the sight of his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips which were suddenly so so dry and Katsuki let out a low groan at the sight before he was back on top of you. His mouth was everywhere. On your mouth, your neck, then your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting lightly while his fingers push into you, stretching you around them. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as you felt pressure building in your lower stomach until you snapped, cumming around his fingers.

He removed his fingers quickly replacing them with the head of his cock. He put his fingers into his mouth, licking your juices from them as he slowly pushed inside you.

“Fuck” he grunted, head dropping to rest on your shoulder when he bottomed out deep inside you.

“Please” you whined, grinding your hips, needing friction. Needing him to freaking move.

“Hold on, I- fuck- I need a second or this is gonna be over before it starts.” He let out a deep breath then finally pulled back, almost all of the way out of you and thrust back in. “God, you’re perfect. Just for me.” He fucked in and out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot every time. “So wet and tight for me.”

“Katsuki” you whined, feeling amazing but needing more. “Harder please.”

He let out a rough laugh and pulled out of you, drawing a cry of protest from you. “So needy for me, huh?” He flipped you over, pressing your back down into the mattress with one hand and pulling your hips up with the other. He slammed back into you, immediately setting the rough pace you’d desperately needed. “Answer me.”

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, not sure he’d have been able to hear you over the smacking of his hips on your ass every time he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a good girl for me. You’re sucking me in so good.” His chuckle turns into a moan as your orgasm hits you and your pussy clenches his cock, milking it. He falls forward, hands gripping your sheets as you cum around him and he fights to keep the same pace, to keep fucking you through your orgasm.

You dimly register sparks in the corner of your vision and the sound of Katsuki cursing, but can’t concentrate on anything except for the longest, most amazing orgasm of your life. It makes sense for you to see fireworks really. You slowly come down from your high and register the scorched handprints on your sheets and Katsuki pulling out to cum on your thighs.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I- shit.” He’s staring at your sheets in concern but you laugh, pulling him down next to you.

“Worth it.” You tell him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled at you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Should probably go ahead and get a few backup sets while you’re at it.” You teased.

“You think so?” He rolled over, nuzzling into your neck and nibbling at the skin there. “I suppose these are already ruined… We might as well take advantage.”

“Already?” You asked, laughing.

A knock at your door interrupted his reply and you exchanged a confused look.

“Maybe we were too loud?” You suggested but an annoyed knowing look had settled on Katsuki’s face.

He got to his feet, pulling on his boxers on the way to your door.

The sound of Keigo’s voice had you sitting up in surprise. You wrapped the sheet around you and made it to your bedroom door.

Keigo stood in the doorway to your apartment, staring at Katsuki in open mouthed outrage.

“She’s taken.” Katsuki snapped, slamming the door in Keigo’s face before he had time to respond.

Katsuki turned around, smirking when his eyes landed on you. “Now where were we?”

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x you

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finniestoncrane · 18 hours

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Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k i want to stand in the middle of a room and let him do what he wants and see what he wants and blush the entire time ;-; 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: porn with very little plot, dominant/demanding behaviour, fingering, biting, breast/nipple play (we got tit-sucking with the ghoul, fellas), cmnf, scratching, teensy bit of possessive behaviour

Your eyes flitted briefly to the door of the abandoned shack. It wasn't as if anyone was going to walk in on you both, but you were still nervous, embarrassed to do as he asked.

"C'mon now, darlin'. Can't get any further while you've still got that pretty, blue suit on, can we?"

Cooper had been waiting for this moment since he'd first decided not to kill you. What lay beneath that now tattered, once pristine, vault suit? What were you keeping from him? How unspoiled were you? And what could he do to ruin you? It was no longer a deep desire, a passing fancy. He needed to see your body, and he needed to make his mark on you.

With a flourish of his hand, he urged you on, indicating his growing impatience at your refusal to bend to his will with a roll of his eyes. You watched as his fingers skimmed over the barrel of his gun, visions of everyone else he had so flippantly shot crossing your mind.

"I ain't gonna ask you twice, sweetheart. Take. It. Off."

With trembling fingers, you did as he asked, fumbling with the zip before slowly pulling it down, your eyes flicking upwards to Cooper, watching him as he watched you. As you slid your suit off your shoulders, exposing your breasts, you noticed his pupils widen. And when you shimmied it down over your hips, letting it drop to the floor, your entire body on display now, he pressed his tongue out, wetting his lips in silence.

You could feel your cheeks burning, your hands reaching to cover your breasts, thighs pressed together in a bid to shield your sex from him. He wasn't going to speak, so you did.

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"A-aren't you going to... take something off. Your coat at least?"

"Oh, you have sorely misunderstood, missy. I'm not taking off a damn thing. You're the star of this show."

You felt like it, and not necessarily in a good way. It was like a spotlight was shining on you, focusing on your body. Cooper's attention drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were taking you in, hungrily. It felt almost sinful, the way he greedily admired you.

His mind was in a frenzy, a carnal fugue state brought on by just how smooth you were in comparison to him. Your skin, perfect, unspoiled, untainted. A burning desire to mar that perfection in a wanton display of lust and violence.

"Well... look at you. If I'd known what you had underneath all that... well we might be a few days behind schedule at least."

It was almost torturous to stand there as he scrutinised you, and yet you found yourself yearning desperately for him to not look away. There was just something so beguiling about Cooper, a charm that oozed out of his every orifice, that made even his more sadistic habits seem reasonable and, yes, even attractive.

You wanted him to touch you, to feel like he was a part of this. That you weren't just there for him to stare at. He seemed to be able to sense your need, as he was quickly in front of you, warm, dry hands reaching for your body and settling on it. It was strange, how delicate he was. But clearly your willingness for his touch, the way you leaned into him, spurred on his more wicked nature.

He began to rake his nails across your skin, first up your arm, the ragged texture scraping over the top layer, making white tracks on the surface. Then he dug in deep, fingers gripped at your upper arms, your back, your hips, scratches etched into your perfect body. Like he was signing a piece of his work before he'd even started with it.

"I had wondered how you would feel, so smooth, like silk... like I remember marble feeling as I ran my fingertips over it..."

Just as his words began to feel sweet, too complimentary for them to feel like they were being said by him, he switched back to his more commanding tone, his orders coming out in a deep, serious growl.

"Lean back on that old table there and spread those pretty legs apart, darlin'. I want to get a better look at all of you."

The way he stretched that word out.

All of you.

All.

And the way he waited, patiently but uncompromising as the looked to him nervously, cheeks darkening with your blush. It felt so dirty.

But you did it anyway, knowing you couldn't refuse him, and didn't really want to. You were rewarded by the sharp intake of air as he sucked in a breath and let it out with a whistle.

"Now that is a fine lookin' cunt, sweetheart. So pretty. So wet."

He shoved his hand between your legs, fingers immediately spreading your pussy lips to feel your wetness. There was a sense of frustration bubbling stirring within Cooper as he indulged himself in in your heat, how soft your swollen lips felt, like velvet against his dry fingertips. How the patch of unruly pubic hair was tickling his skin, delicately. That you'd held this back from him for so long.

As his fingers glided pasted your lips and spread your folds you couldn't help but practically purr at how gentle he was being, and that in turn had Cooper biting back a moan. The thrill of seeing you there, at his command, beneath his touch. He couldn't help but feel a little smug.

"Still got it, Howard."

Your body was trembling as he explored you, and you felt yourself begin to squirm when he turned his attention to your clit. With his rough fingers, he teased at your hood, pulling it back to expose the sensitive bud, smiling as you hissed when he tapped softly on it. Writhing against him, the heel of his palm pressed into you, you tilted your pelvis into him to feel it against your opening, moaning as he fingered your clit, but aching to feel something more, something deeper.

"You need something inside you, darlin'?"

Nodding, you clenched your body as he removed his hand from you completely, a pleading mewl letting him know how badly your body needed him.

"Careful what you're begging for there, sweetheart."

Your back arched immediately in response to his fingers inside of your cunt, massaging your inner walls as he hooked them up and struck the perfect spot inside. Sweat began to bead on your forehead, your mouth hanging open, agape and panting as Cooper began pumping his fingers in and out of you. He was unforgiving, watching in cruel delight as you spasmed, sweating and huffing as he fucked you hard with his firm, practised digits.

He relished in the way you clenched around him, spasming as his merciless rhythmmade you wail in pleasure. It was almost reckless the way he was fucking you with his hand, borderline clumsy, and filled with passion. But he pulled away from you with a deep grunt, deciding that there were still other parts of you he wanted to experience before you were too spent to let him keep going.

"I'm 'gon need your help here, lil lady. Start touchin' yourself, I want you to feel how wet you are."

His voice was dark, a guttural growl that indicated how serious he was, and you obeyed his instructions with wide, nervous eyes.

As you began to stroke your own clit, Cooper leaned over you, his breathy moans of anticipation tingling over your skin as he sunk into your chest. He slowly laved at your sternum, following it up as his hands cupped at your breasts, and then his mouth shifted to your nipple, closing over it and sucking as his other hand worked your breast.

His tongue darted over the sensitive bud, lapping at it with flat, broad strokes before he pointed it, tracing around the nipple as your breath rasped at the stimulation. You were quivering, your core tightening as Cooper worked your soft flesh, savouring the taste of your skin, the tang of your sweat on his stiff tongue. He was laughing against you, a crude reaction to your whispered gasps and soft whines. The cruel way he received your body and encouraged your orgasm made you wail out against him as your fingers worked you the way you knew best.

You could feel it coming, the precipice of your release. Gut tightening, eyes rolling back, your groans becoming whimpers

Cooper let out a cruel laugh as you took in a shaking breath, filling your lungs with warm, dusty air to prepare for your orgasm. And then your back arched, your knees buckling, as you screamed out in pleasure.

Enough electricity rippled through your body that you could have powered the shack without a generator. And it still coursed through you when your cries died out, jerking you, your body convulsing as you came down from the seemingly impossible high.

"I hope those scratches don't stay on your soft skin too long, sweetheart..."

Cooper winked at you, lips stretching into a sneer.

"... and put your suit back on quick. Now that I know what you've got under there, it's mine only."

#if this isn’t in the tags or it flops I’m out of here this website is driving me fuckin insane #fallout #fallout amazon #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

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ericshoney · 2 days

Text

Argument ~ Brothers!Sturniolo triplets

Warnings: Arguments, rude comments, angst.

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

Having four older brothers was sometimes a blessing but also a pain. They would all help you with school work and friendships, but also scare away anyone who got too close to you for their liking.

You lived with the triplets in LA. Being a year younger than them, it wasn't a massive age gap, but the boys made it their mission to keep a close eye on you at all times. You were their responsibility. They were protective over you.

You knew the guys were filming today, so you had planned to get dressed and head out for a walk. It was a nice day and you just wanted a stroll around the block as they filmed this week's car video. You picked just a t-shirt and some joggers, wanting to be comfortable with your stroll, you didn't think there would be a problem at all. Until you bumped into Chris accidently.

"Watch it, kid." He grumbled, almost spilling the Pepsi in his hand.

"Sorry." You apologised, wondering why Chris was moody.

He sighed as you started to the door. But his voice stopped you.

"Where are you going?" He called, as you stood at the top of the stairs.

"Just for a walk. I know your filming today so I was just going to take a stroll around the block." You answered.

"Without asking." He stated.

"Didn't realise I had to ask to take a simple walk." You said, the sass evident in your voice.

"Don't get sassy with me, kid. You know the rules." He replied, making you laugh.

"What rules! I'm going for a walk, Chris!" You shouted.

"Without asking!" He repeated.

"What is going on?" Matt called as he appeared along with Nick.

"Kid thinks she's the fucking boss here." Chris mumbled.

"I'm going for a walk while you all film." You said.

"Without asking!" Chris repeated once again.

"What's next I gotta ask to fucking go to the bathroom!" You shouted back.

"Woah, lose the attitude." Nick said.

"Yeah no need for that." Matt added.

"What about him!" You exclaimed, pointing at Chris.

"He's not wrong." Nick said.

"What?" You called in shock.

"I mean, if Chris didn't stop you and you just left, how would we know where you are or if something happened to you?" Matt asked, siding with his brothers.

"Your fucking joking." You scoffed.

"No, no we're not." Chris said.

"I'm not a baby! I'm nineteen! I can take care of myself!" You screamed.

"It's our job to keep you safe in LA. If your going to be such a brat just go back to Boston." Nick said coldly.

"You don't mean that." You said quietly, trying to hold back the tears.

"Mum and dad said we're to take care of you. But you think just because your here you can get away with anything. That's not how it works, kid. You gotta follow the rules." Matt responded.

"It's fucking daylight! I'm just going for a simple walk!" You shouted, the anger rising now.

"Go then! Go on your fucking walk! But don't fucking expect anything from us when you get back!" Chris shouted, heading down to the car to film.

You looked at Nick and Matt with tears in your eyes. You sighed and walked out the house, heading to the park that was close by. You sat under a large tree away from anyone and pulled your knees up, crying as you covered your face. You tried to think about why they got so angry. Were they stressed? Or were they just tired of you around?

Your mind wandered as your cries slowed down to a few tears and sniffles. You didn't notice the time until it seemed nobody was around. You checked your phone, seeing it had been over an hour since you had left.

You sat quietly, thinking of what to do. Should you go home? Would the guys still be angry? Should you call a friend? Or would they call your brothers? Or get a hotel? But you didn't have spare clothes.

So many more thoughts rattled through your head at once, that you didn't notice the three figures walking towards you. When you suddenly realised it was your brothers, your feet acted before your brain did. You shot up from your seated position, about to run, when Chris grabbed you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'm so fucking sorry! I....fuck. I don't know what came over me. I was just stressed and I know I shouldn't ever take it out on you. Fuck please, kid, I'm sorry." He rambled as he cried, holding you tightly.

"You....You hate me." You stuttered, as the heartbreaking sobs escaped your lips. The triplets all felt broken hearing you cry.

"No, no kid, no we don't. We're so sorry." Nick said, rubbing your back.

"Let's go home and talk about this." Matt suggested.

You nodded against Chris' chest. Not wanting to let go in case you tried to run again, Chris picked you up as you headed to the car. All of you got in as Matt drove home, the car was silent and you all soon arrived back.

When you went inside, the four of you sat on the sofa, nobody saying a word to start with. Your eyes stung with fresh tears, worried for more shouting.

"Hey...don't cry kid. We're so sorry. We just love you and as we said, it's our job to keep you safe. We've just been a bit stressed recently and know it's not fair to take it out on you. Fuck that was really wrong to do and we're going to try and manage better. We're so sorry." Nick said first.

"Do....Do you want me to go back to Boston?" You questioned.

"No, we love having you here!" Matt answered.

"It's my fault really. I'm sorry." Chris apologised again.

"As long as I'm not a burden, I'll stay around." You said.

"Fuck your far from a burden, please, we're sorry." Chris said again.

"I forgive you." You said, making your brothers smile and pulling you into a warm group hug. You knew they would be more careful from now on and you loved them too much to be angry.

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charmandabear · 3 days

Text

Office Hours - Chapter Twelve

Summary:

You finally work up the nerve to ask Astarion about his past.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags/Warnings: discussions of traumatic pasts, not just Astarion's, but Tav's as well, specifically partner abuse; depiction of a panic attack; mentions of (canon-typical) violence; spoilers for Heathers the Musical; somewhat feral kissing that honestly at this point shouldn't surprise anyone with these two

This chapter should be fine to read if you're not familiar with the plot of Heathers (movie or musical) but in case you want to read a quick summary, you can get that here.

I have officially retconned chapter 9 that Karlach got the home brewed beer from Lakrissa, not Aradin.

I can't believe I got the chapter out on both AO3 and Tumblr on the same day! It's been a few chapters since this has happened lol. As per usual, the screenshots are from @zipzoomzaria, although with me recently downloading the free cam mod I cannot take ENOUGH screenshots. I'll be uploading those soon.

Read it on AO3 ~ Masterlist

Astarion’s chest feels cool beneath your cheek as you slowly blink yourself awake. You listen to the sound of his breathing for a few moments – not a necessary impulse for him, just one he never unlearned. You eventually turn your head upward to see him looking at his phone. He notices you stir and a smile spreads across his face as he puts his phone down.

“Good morning,” he lilts, rubbing your shoulder gently with his thumb. You strain your neck up towards him, wordlessly asking for a kiss. He leans down and obliges, his chilled lips working against your warm ones, still sticky from sleep. You adjust your arms so you can wrap your hands around his neck and run your fingers through his curls. He presses his palm against your lower back, pulling your chest flush with his. His movements are unrushed, languid and sensual, and you’re just enjoying the soft feeling of his skin against yours.

“Morning,” you hum sleepily, slow blinking like a contented cat. He props himself up on an elbow and as his visage comes into focus, you realize just how put-together he looks. He’s already wearing his glasses and his hair looks as carefully coiffed as usual. You frown. “How long have you been awake?”

“How do you want me to answer that?” He quirks an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly like I sleep.”

Right. Elves trance instead of sleep. You probably could have paid more attention in your humanoid biology class in high school.

“So what do you do all night while I sleep?”

“Read, mostly,” Astarion says with a shrug. “Sometimes I grade. Just killing time, really.”

“Don’t you ever get, like, bored?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Sometimes. More often than not I simply enjoy being near you.” His candor makes you flush, so you deflect with a teasing laugh.

“Ew, you like being near me? Gross.” You grin as you pull him back down to you, your hands curling around his neck and you kiss him, soft and slow. He slides his hand under your knee and pulls your calf around his waist. Your usual insatiable lust for him is tempered, and you just want to bask in his coolness like you have all the time in the world. He pulls away, brushing your hair behind your ear, and looks at you over his glasses with those blood red eyes of his.

“What would you like, love?” he murmurs, and you yawn reflexively.

“Coffee, before anything else,” you reply, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You roll out of bed and adjust your bra and shorts that got twisted overnight. You pad into the kitchen with Astarion close behind you, and he perches himself on a barstool while you pull out the instant coffee and set the kettle to boil.

“Darling, no, instant coffee?” he sneers as you scoop it into your mug.

“Don’t be elitist, it doesn’t make sense for me to make a full pot every morning when it’s just for me, and Keurigs create a hellish amount of plastic waste.” You turn up your nose at him, and he stands to take the mug out of your hands.

“This is not elitism, this is self-preservation.” He dumps the granules into the sink, earning a quick “Hey!” from you. “I’d rather like to be able to kiss you without the taste of rotten dirt in your mouth.” He picks up his phone from the counter and pulls up DoorDash.

“My breath doesn’t get that bad,” you mumble and cross your arms obstinately.

“Perhaps not to a mortal, but trust me when I say this will be better for both of us.” You glance over his shoulder and watch as he loads up the cart with expensive artisan coffee beans, a French press, and a stainless steel coffee grinder.

“Astarion, I can’t afford all that,” you press, trying to take his phone out of his hands.

“Then consider it a gift,” he lobs back at you, holding his phone above your head so you can’t reach it. You plant yourself on a barstool and sulk for a moment before actually processing what he said.

“Wait, so you can tell when I’ve eaten or drunk something made with low quality ingredients?” Your brain spins the rolodex of all of the times you kissed him after having some trashy food.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he says with a regretful frown.

“And the night at the bowling alley when I was drinking that terrible beer?”

“Not particularly pleasant. But worth putting up with, because, well,” he clears his throat and flashes a coy smile, “it had been a while.” Your ears flush and he saunters over to you, planting a kiss just below your earlobe. Your hands rest on the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“But… coffee,” you pout, and he takes your hands and pulls you over to the couch.

“If you’re patient, my dear, it’ll be worth the wait,” he coos, sitting you down and pulling your legs onto his lap. “And speaking of waiting.” He brings your hand to his lips, running his nose along the blue-green veins in your inner wrist. “Do you mind terribly if I have my breakfast while you’re waiting for yours?”

Your breath catches in your throat as he gently grazes the point of one fang across the sensitive skin. “You’ve never fed from my wrist before,” you breathe, almost as though speaking too loudly might spook him.

“Does that make you reconsider?” His eyes flick up towards yours but his lips remain on your wrist, ghosting over the flesh. You shake your head, transfixed by his subtle movements. His lips stretch into a smile before he sinks his fangs into you, the sharp pain sending a twin bolt to your heart and your core before melting away into that sublime numbness. You’ve never watched him feed before, and you’re almost taken aback by how beautiful he looks. His lips pressed to your wrist, his hair falling into his eyes, his back expanding and contracting as his breath quickens. He must sense your gaze because he looks up, his red eyes sparkling. Your heart rate spikes, and it only takes a few seconds for him to smile against your wrist, reacting to whatever your sudden arousal changed in your bloodstream.

It feels too soon when he pulls away, despite the oncoming lightheadedness suggesting otherwise. Unlike his usual animalistic expression he wears after drinking your blood, he has a sated, almost goofy look to him. You giggle and swipe the red droplet from his bottom lip and suck it off your thumb.

His sleepy gaze moves to you, but when he sees you licking your blood off your finger, his features sharpen into the more predatory look you’re used to. He shifts your legs so that he’s towering over you, and you have no choice but to sink down into the couch on your back. He presses a knee between your legs and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. He descends onto your lips and you taste the blood that still coats his. You arch your back into him and he slides his hand beneath you, pulling your center closer. He slides his knee upwards, pushing your thigh with it, and rolls his hips into your now spread cunt. You groan into his lips, hands scrambling for purchase on his bare shoulders. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and you’re about to wriggle out of them when there’s a knock at the door.

You both freeze, then suddenly you remember. “My coffee!” you squeal excitedly, pushing Astarion off of you. “They probably just left it right outside the door, babe, can you grab it while I reheat the water?” You clamber over the back of the couch and over to the kitchen while Astarion shakes his head at your antics.

He pulls the front door to your apartment wide open and a startled half-gnome stands there holding a paper bag full of coffee supplies. Their eyes travel down Astarion’s half-naked form, lingering momentarily on the growing bulge in his boxer briefs. They flush a violent purple before muttering a quick, “Sorry,” and shoving the paper bag in his hands. They practically sprint down the hall as Astarion calls, “Have a lovely day!” with an impish wave.

“Astarion, you scared the poor thing half to death,” you scold as he closes the door, and he responds with a nonchalant shrug.

“Probably more exciting than anything else they’ll see today, I did them a favor.” He brings the coffee supplies over to the counter and hooks his thumbs into your shorts. “Now, where were we?” He presses into your back and kisses the crook of your neck.

“Can I at least have my coffee before an orgasm?” you groan breathlessly, and Astarion chuckles.

“Who said that’s my intention?” he hums into your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Historical evidence,” you throw over your shoulder at him as you shimmy out of his grip. You pull out the various implements and stare at them blankly. You shift your gaze to Astarion and frown. “You bought all this stuff, show me how to use it.”

“Fine. Sit.” Astarion pushes you onto the barstool and begins to open the boxes with the French press and the coffee grinder. You watch him while he stands over the counter, and your eyes trace over the elaborate scarring across his back. You suddenly realize you’ve never been able to get this good of a look at it, he’s usually so carefully guarded. You’ve been afraid to bring it up again since that first night he told you about it.

You chew on your lip while he assembles your coffee, anxiously weighing the pros and cons of asking him about it. You want to ask him more about his past, but you can’t even fathom what it’s like for him to have lived more than three times your entire lifespan and still have an eternity to go.

He hands you the mug and looks at you expectantly. You snap out of your mini reverie and look down at the coffee in your hand, a few shades darker than you’re used to.

“Thank you, although I usually put in a little more milk than that,” you admit sheepishly.

“With that offal you had been drinking, I don’t doubt it. Try it first, I’ll put in more if you want.” He puts his hands on his hips as you eye him suspiciously. You take a tentative sip, bracing yourself for the acrid bitter taste, but are met instead with something smooth and rich. Still bitter, but tempered by a creaminess that has nothing to do with the milk. You look up at him with a pleasantly surprised look on your face.

“Okay, I hate to say it, but you were right,” you groan reluctantly. He smirks and tilts your chin up to give you a tender kiss.

“Still as sweet as ever,” he purrs, and a light flush rises to your cheeks. Then your mind wanders back to your earlier train of thought, and your brow furrows.

“Um, Astarion, can I ask you something?” Your voice is a little dryer than you’d like it to be. His eyebrows shoot up over his glasses, and he nods. You take his hand and lead him over to the couch, curling your knees into your chest and holding your coffee mug in both hands. “Can you tell me more about… about your scars?”

Astarion exhales a breath of relief. Whatever he thought you were going to ask, it wasn’t that.

“Er, yes, well… How much do you know about vampires?” He looks at you carefully and you blink in surprise. Very little, and you’re surprised it didn’t occur to you to look up more.

“Besides the basics, I guess, no sunlight, mirrors, garlic,” you rattle them off in your head. He giggles when you say ‘garlic.’

“The garlic is a myth, but you’ve got the basics, yes. Haven’t you ever wondered why I’m able to bite you without consequences? Well, besides the dizziness, I suppose,” he adds with a sly grin.

“I guess not, no,” you frown, wishing that he would just tell you instead of this weird quiz.

“I am not technically a full vampire – I’m a vampire spawn. I was turned while on the brink of death by a vampire named Cazador Szarr,” he spits the name like it’ll poison him if it lingers too long in his mouth. “I was his slave for two hundred years, compelled to do anything and everything he commanded. Most of the time it meant luring victims back for him to feed.” Astarion’s eyes glaze over, and you slide out your foot to gently touch his knee. You’re at a loss on how you can possibly comfort him for something this traumatic, so you let him continue in his own time.

“And once, it meant lying still while he carved this into my back over the course of a night. He claimed it was a poem. He made a lot of revisions as he went.” He scowls at the memory. “I only found out that it was something written in Infernal after his death.”

“How did you escape?” Your voice is small, hardly able to comprehend what he’s telling you.

“Oh, that’s actually quite a fun story.” He lights up suddenly. “His six other spawn and I rose up to overtake him. It took years of planning, and we were under the constant threat of being caught. But we were successful, and we tore him to pieces.” His eyes sparkle with a bloodlust that you haven’t seen before and your heart pounds in your ears. You had said that you want to see the more predatory side of him, and you’re getting your wish. His face softens and his gaze refocuses on you. “That was about 100 years ago,” he concludes with a wry smile. He puts his hand on your foot next to his leg and pulls it into his lap, and you curl your toes against his hand.

“Well,” you exhale, still processing his entire story. “That certainly puts the trauma from my shitty ex into perspective,” you say with a pained smile, trying to make light of it.

“Suffering is relative, the enormity of mine doesn’t reduce yours.” He tilts his head as he looks at you, a silent question. He’s leaving it open for you to tell your story, but refrains from pressing.

“Well, it almost seems mundane in comparison,” you start with a heavy sigh, and he squeezes your foot lightly to encourage you to continue. “I’ve only had one even remotely serious relationship, and he was a piece of shit. Well,” you reconsider as you think of what those early days with him were like. “At first he just seemed like one of those ‘lovable asshole’ kind of guys, plus he had a Yorkshire accent, so clearly I have a type,” you say with a feeble laugh.

“No, a northerner? Darling, want better for yourself,” Astarion grimaces, and you glare at him.

“Like I said, I have a type,” you sneer. “But after a while, it became clear that he didn’t particularly respect me, I think partially because I was studying theatre and he was in STEM. He constantly talked down to me, he hated it any time I disagreed with him, and he would go out of his way to piss me off because he thought it was funny.”

You see Astarion wince, slowly putting the pieces together. You don’t particularly feel like rehashing the night you saw Taming again, so you continue.

“His friends weren’t terrible, though, and he was never as awful to them as he was to me, so I thought it was my fault. Like, if I were just somehow less annoying, or smarter, or more interesting, then he would suddenly stop being an asshole. There were some nights,” you swallow thickly, surprised by how difficult recounting this is. You thought you had worked through all this with Jaheira. “Some nights he was so persistent that I would just let him have sex with me so he would shut up and go to sleep.”

You feel Astarion tense beneath your leg, and he’s clenching his jaw so hard you’re worried his teeth might shatter. You quickly continue to try to put him at ease. “I sometimes wish I could go back to my 20-year-old self and just give her a huge hug and tell her that she’s worth more than that dick. But I’ve grown a lot since that relationship, and probably because of that relationship if I’m being perfectly honest. Wish I could have learned those lessons without an abusive asshole, but we play the hand we’re dealt.” You shrug and stare blankly at the dregs at the bottom of your mug.

When Astarion speaks, his voice is icy and measured. “And what’s this man’s name?”

“Aradin. Aradin Beno,” you answer, keeping your eyes cast down. Your gaze shoots up to Astarion with a sudden realization. “You’re not allowed to kill him, Astarion,” you warn. You would have been joking had you said that thirty minutes ago. But after learning exactly what he’s capable of, a genuine spike of fear runs through your heart.

“But why?” he says in a whiny voice. “I can make it look like an accident, I promise!”

“No, no murder!” You kick your other foot out at him, and he grabs your ankle in a single swift motion. His sudden movement makes your mouth twitch as you suppress the smile spreading across your lips.

“Does the prospect of me being a killer make you feel something, little love?” he drops his voice and your breath catches in your throat. You don’t want to admit just how much it does, so you choose to remain silent instead. You watch him with unblinking eyes as he prowls over you, taking your empty mug out of your hand and setting it on the coffee table. The way his eyes sparkle and the flash of his fangs tells you that he knows exactly what it makes you feel.

“Are you? I mean– have you? Besides the one, I guess,” you stammer as your heart threatens to pound out of your chest. He looms over you, pressing his thigh down between your legs.

“Would it be better or worse if I said yes?” His lips hover over yours, and the noise that slips out of your throat is a little embarrassing. He closes the distance and kisses you roughly, slipping his hand beneath your lower back and digging his nails into your skin.

You’re certain you would feel differently if you saw it in person… but the mental image of Astarion covered in blood after just having torn Aradin limb from limb sets you off. Something surges through you and you suddenly flip Astarion onto his back. You straddle his hips and crush your lips together, struggling to control your hungry kisses. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling hard. He claws into your thighs, pulling you down onto his rapidly growing erection, and you groan into his lips. You move your mouth down to his neck, biting down, and your whole body seizes when you hear his breathy moan in response.

He pushes up off the couch, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist while you cling to his shoulders, your assault on his neck never relenting. He carries you back to your room and throws you down on the bed hard enough to bounce slightly. He looks borderline monstrous as he crawls back onto you, pinning all four of your limbs down so escape is impossible.

Your breathing grows heavy as he ravages you, your hands messily grabbing at any part they can reach. He tears at your bra with his teeth and you moan loudly, panting uncontrollably. He bites your skin, not to feed but to mark you, to cover you in punctures and bruises that brand you as his. You arch your back into him, asking for more. You want him to tear you apart, to leave you broken and consumed. You whine, your breath wracking through your lungs.

But before long, your vision starts to darken around the edges. You feel your heart pounding in the well of your throat – not the way Astarion makes your heart pound, but the way your anxiety does. You get lightheaded and your muscles grow weak as Astarion, unaware of your change in faculties, bites down on the soft tissue of your breast.

“Wait,” you call weakly, and grabs your hair and pulls your head back, pressing his lips against your ear.

“What was that, love?” he growls as his pointer finger tugs on your shorts.

“Star, stop,” you croak, and his entire demeanor shifts. He pulls back to look at you, his red eyes round and shining with concern. You’re a little surprised when the tears fall from your eyes unbidden, streaking down your temples and into your hair. You start hyperventilating, shaking as you lose control over your breath. You shove your fist into your mouth, hoping fruitlessly that the pain might ground you.

After a moment of staring at you helplessly, Astarion pulls you into his arms and you curl up face down into his lap, choking out sobs as you grip his thighs. Your throat tightens and you feel like you’re being strangled by your own larynx. You gag as your stomach heaves, trying to expel itself from out of your mouth.

Astarion rubs your back, rocking you gently. A soft stream of “shhhh” and “it’s okay, love, you’re okay,” pours out of his mouth. He breathes in and out slowly, and you eventually find your breath enough to steady it, lengthening your inhales and exhales to match his. You lay there trembling for what feels like hours until you manage to push yourself back up into a sitting position.

“Gods, I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was about,” you chuckle feebly, wiping tears and snot from your face. Astarion starts to reach out to touch your cheek, but he pulls his hand back hesitantly.

“Darling, you don’t need to apologize. Are you… are you alright?” he asks, voice unsteady. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes until your vision goes starry, then take his hands in yours.

“I am, yes. I’m sorry. I know you said I don’t need to apologize,” you add quickly as he opens his mouth to protest. “Like, I’m sorry that it happened as much as I’m sorry that I probably freaked you out.”

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it, and you furiously shake your head.

“No, gods no. The opposite, actually.” You attempt to flash him a smile, but it just comes off as tired. “I think it just became too much too quickly. And I guess I’m not as… worked through… the Aradin stuff as I thought I was.” You frown at your clunky phrasing and he more confidently reaches out to stroke your cheek. You press your face into his palm, holding his hand to your lips as you take a few more long, grounding breaths. You finally drop his hand and look down at your torn bra, raising your eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, er… sorry about that,” Astarion smiles sheepishly.

“Honestly I’m more impressed than anything else,” you laugh as you start to try to scooch off the bed to get another shirt. Astarion puts his hand on your knee to stop you and walks toward your dresser. It takes him a few tries to figure out the right drawer, but eventually he pulls out a tank top and hands it to you. You inexplicably turn away from him as you put it on, suddenly self-conscious in front of this man who has seen you naked maybe a dozen times.

You pull yourself to the edge of the bed, your dangling feet not quite touching the floor, and reach out to him with grabby hands. He steps closer to you and lets you embrace his waist wordlessly. You press your nose into his ribs and take a steady inhale. His scent is so much more concentrated from this angle, all sweat and pheromones. He runs his hand through your hair and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes again. He feels the wetness on his skin and pulls away suddenly.

“What? What did I do?” He sounds genuinely panicked and it gets an honest laugh out of you.

“No, it’s nothing. I’m just…” in love with you. Fucking hells, you haven’t even let yourself think those words before. You push the thought down, so very far down – you’re not even remotely in a position to confront it right now. “Do you think you can hang out for a bit? You don’t have plans today, do you?” You take a shaky breath. “I just don’t think I want to be alone right now.”

“Yes, my sweet, of course.” He takes your chin and tilts your head up so you’re looking up at him. “But will you please eat something? You’ve had nothing but coffee and I’m sure the blood loss isn’t helping.”

You smile and nod, standing to give him a proper kiss. The sudden movement does, in fact, make you wobble a bit. He grips your arms and glowers at you as your eyes scan down his bare chest and legs.

“Do you want, like, clothes? Maybe I can ask Shadowheart to run to your apartment and get you a fresh set?” You don’t mind staring at him half naked, but you figure you might as well give him the option.

“Well, as a matter of fact, do you think she would mind terribly feeding His Majesty? He gets awfully cranky if he doesn’t have his regular meals.”

“Huh, I wonder where he picked that up?” you ask with a coy smile and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re one to talk. Go eat.” He pushes you through your bedroom door. “And yes, please ask Shadowheart.” You laugh as you stumble through your living room to the kitchen. You pick up your phone from the kitchen island and pull up her number.

-Shade, are you busy? Can you do me a huuuuuuuuuuuuuge favor?

-what

It’s a bit on the early side for her, so frankly you appreciate the answer at all.

-Can you run to Astarion’s apartment to grab some clothes? And also feed his cat?

The typing bubble pops up and disappears a handful of times. Then, she finally replies:

-...what?

-Please Shade, it’s important. pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaassssseeeeeeeeeeee

-Moon Maiden, yes, calm down. I’ll come over to grab his keys.

“Okay, she said yes,” you tell Astarion as you put your phone back down on the counter and grab a sleeve of cinnamon raisin bagels from the drawer. He watches you carefully as you assemble your breakfast, almost like he doesn’t trust that you’ll actually do it if he looks away.

It doesn’t take long for Shadowheart to walk into your apartment without knocking. She’s wearing an oversized Next to Normal t-shirt and shorts. Her eyes first settle on Astarion sitting at the island in just his underwear and she stares blankly. When her gaze shifts to you, and she sees your puffy red eyes, she turns back to Astarion in a fury.

“What the fuck did you do?” she hisses, and you throw out your hands to stop her from committing murder. She stops just short of getting slathered in cream cheese from the knife still in your hand.

“Nothing, no, he’s good, I swear. Perfect, even.” You glance back at him abashedly. “No, it was just… Aradin stuff.” You mumble the last few words, and watch as Shadowheart’s anger deflates and then flares twice as high.

“Oh? Do I need to hunt this piss kid down?” she seethes, pumping herself up for a fight.

“No, she has forbidden murder, I already tried,” Astarion drawls, and Shadowheart’s expression dulls to a scowl.

“Fine,” she grumbles, then turns back to you. “Where am I going and what am I getting?”

“I’ll text you his address, just a change of clothes. Oh, and where do you keep His Majesty’s food?” You start typing out the message and Astarion takes your phone from your hand.

“It’ll be simpler if I give you instructions,” he says as he types out what looks like a novel. “Make sure you go to the fish market on Bleeker, not the one on Mayweather. And if they don’t have the nice fatty tuna, you can get the yellowtail, but only if it’s been caught within the hour. If they don’t have either, then ask for Thodric, he’ll know what to get.”

Shadowheart stares at him with a mixture of confusion and revulsion. “The little rat’s getting Fancy Feast and he’ll like it,” she finally says when Astarion hits send. You shoot her another pleading look and she groans. “Fine. Anything else for Your Majesty?”

“Oh, His Majesty is fine, but could you also grab my maroon cardigan and–”

“Gods, really?” she snaps. You’re chewing on your bagel when you finally process what she’s wearing.

“Wait, isn't that shirt–” you begin and she whirls around, her loose silver hair swinging down her back.

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way back,” she barks as she slams the door shut behind her.

***

You and Astarion spend the day together mostly in comfortable silence. Shadowheart does, in fact, give His Majesty the fresh fish he so desperately requires, but she only brings Astarion a pair of jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. He grumbles a resentful thank you, even if she didn’t bring him the maroon cardigan.

You’re lying on the couch leaned up against Astarion, who has borrowed your tablet to grade papers while you answer work emails on your phone. You get another reminder from the chair about season selection and you groan.

“I swear, we’re not going to have a season next year if we can’t fucking agree on something,” you bemoan, dropping your phone and rubbing your eyes wearily. “Plus, the rest of them feel like we need to settle on a musical first and then build the season around that,” you gripe, crossing your arms like a petulant child.

“Well that’s nonsense, the musical is always just a garish over-produced spectacle,” Astarion scoffs.

“But it’s the thing that makes the most money, so we are kind of dependent on it, as much as I hate to admit it,” you concede reluctantly. “Alfira really wants to do Heathers, and I read it, I just can’t get behind it as much as the rest of the faculty. I want to make sure the classical play is in conversation with it, and I can’t think of an interesting choice.” You slide your eyes to Astarion with a smirk. “Lucretius suggested Hamlet and I would literally rather fling myself out a window than direct Hamlet.”

“Well now, I don’t believe self-defenestration is necessary,” he laughs. “But you’ve only read it? Aren’t you the one always going on about how theatre is meant to be seen and not read?” He mocks you a little too well and you smack his knee.

“Fine, I guess I’ll see if there’s a recording available,” you mutter, picking your phone back up and googling it. “Oh, there actually is. A proshot is available… on the Roku app? I swear to the gods, there are too many apps these days.” You sit up and turn towards Astarion. “Will you watch it with me? Pleeeeaaaassee,” you add in a whine when he gives you a pained look. “If we don’t like it we can make fun of it together, I promise. That’s a better deal than you’ll get from 95% of theatre people.”

He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s bad enough you’re going to make me see it in the fall, you’re going to make me watch it again now?”

Your heart leaps at how casually he mentions still being together in the fall, but you quickly shake the feeling off. Instead, you divert his attention by offering, “What if Karlach and Shadowheart watched it with us? Karlach should probably watch it too, honestly, and then you and Shade can commiserate together as non-theatre people.”

He glares at you for another moment before putting his glasses back on and huffing a great sigh. “Fine,” he relents, adding with a glare, “you’re very lucky that you’re cute.” You giggle with delight and text Shadowheart.

-Do you wanna come over with Karlach tonight and watch Alfira’s pick for the fall musical? You can bond with Astarion over your love of expensive wine and the annoyances of dating someone in the theatre department.

-🍷👌🏻

You laugh at her response and go back to leaning against Astarion’s side, a small shiver running up your spine as he squeezes you a little closer to him.

***

Shadowheart and Karlach come by later in the evening, Shadowheart with two bottles of wine and Karlach loaded with snacks. They move around your kitchen, taking out bowls and glasses, while you take a sudden new interest in the ingredients for Doritos.

“And is it like, highly processed ingredients?” you frown as your eyes scan over the lines, some of the words familiar to you and some of them not. Astarion shrugs.

“I haven’t kept a detailed list of what’s fine and what isn’t, if that’s what you’re asking,” he drawls, looking over his glasses pompously, and you huff.

“Well then I’m going to eat them just to spite you,” you threaten, attempting to open the bag of Doritos menacingly. The gesture falls flat when you crunch down on a chip and it crumbles down your shirt. He takes the back of your neck in his hand and pulls your lips to his, his tongue swiping up cheese dust. You flush and he pulls away, contemplating the taste.

“Well it’s certainly not the most pleasant,” he finally decides, and you dejectedly put the chips down and pick up the wine Shadowheart has just poured. Astarion looks down his nose at the bottle.

“Decent choice,” he intimates with an approving look, and Shadowheart gives him a sideways glance.

“Ah yes, I heard you were a bit of a wine snob.” She tries to match his haughty energy, and doesn’t do a half bad job. “I saw what you brought,” she says, referring to the bottle still on the counter from last night. “It looks… fine.” The corners of his lips twitch upward and you can tell that he likes her, despite their constant bickering.

You and Astarion settle yourself on the couch while Karlach and Shadowheart sit on the floor. Karlach leans against the base of the couch, one knee propped up and an arm around Shadowheart’s shoulders. You smirk at your best friend, remembering your conversation of her insisting that she likes to sit on the floor, despite the fact that the two of you always sit on the couch together. Astarion, legs crossed and arm around you, pulls up the Roku app on your TV and finds the Heathers proshot.

September first, 1989. Dear diary:

A spotlight comes up on a young half-elf woman wearing a bulky denim jacket, big scarf, and a long hippie skirt. Veronica, it quickly becomes clear, is one of the more unpopular kids in school, along with her best friend Martha Dunstock.

“Wait, Veronica isn’t already one of the Heathers? And she’s already friends with Martha?” Shadowheart asks. The eponymous “Heathers” are the archetypical mean girls who rule over Westerberg High.

“No, is that how it is in the movie?” you reply. “I’m only vaguely aware of it, I just read the musical.”

“Interesting,” she muses, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah, she’s supposed to already be in the Heathers, and she doesn’t even speak to Martha until the last scene of the movie. I guess this way she gets a classic movie montage makeover.”

“That tells a very different story,” Astarion says, bouncing his foot slightly. “Following a protagonist who starts wealthy and popular rather than one who is an interloper into a position of power.”

“I wonder why they changed it,” Karlach says, and you nod in agreement.

“I can almost guarantee it was because of the success of Mean Girls and not simply a narrative choice they wanted to make,” you add, wrinkling your nose with distaste.

“Maybe,” Shadowheart takes a thoughtful sip of her wine. “Mean Girls was so heavily influenced by Heathers that it does seem like a nice homage.” She pauses for a moment, then giggles, “You know, I used to think that I had a crush on Christian Slater and I wanted to be Winona Rider, but it turns out it was the other way around.”

“Honestly, I think that tells me all I need to know about you,” Karlach teases.

Honey whatcha waiting for? Step inside my candy store. Time for you to prove you’re not a loser anymore.

The trio of Heathers pose centerstage, their synchronistic dance moves and bright color coordinated outfits creating a striking stage picture.

“Visually, it’s a nice stylistic choice,” Astarion notes, “but I wonder if the aesthetics will detract from the effectiveness of these three as antagonists.”

“Maybe,” Karlach says with a shrug. “But you know that Carm would have a field day with these costumes,” she adds, turning to look at you over her shoulder.

“Oh she absolutely would,” you agree, looking at their sharp blazers, plaid skirts, and thigh high socks. “But I think Astarion’s has a point, they’re almost too appealing to convey any real villainy. Plus, so many of these lines have become such an iconic part of pop culture that they’re almost meaningless. When the main Heather shouts, ‘Shut up, Heather!’ it feels more like she’s quoting a famous line than bullying her friend.”

“I’m sure Alfira will want to address that in the room,” Karlach nods.

Love this dead girl walking Love this dead girl walking Love this dead girl– Yeah– Yeah– Yeah– Yeah!!!!

After committing the social suicide of not bullying her unpopular best friend, Veronica decides she wants to go out with a bang – literally – and sneaks into the bedroom of resident bad boy JD. You still get an uneasy feeling about him as a character, but you’re trying to parse out your judgment of yourself versus your analysis of the text.

“Sorry,” Karlach shakes her head and holds out her wine glass, pointing at the screen. “Did we just witness that girl have a musical orgasm?”

“Surprisingly more common than you’d think in musical theatre,” you laugh, and Astarion pulls you into him until his lips are on your ear.

“Would you like to be my dead girl walking?” His voice is a husky whisper, sending a shiver reverberating through your body. You press your lips together and dig your nails into his knee to keep both of you in check.

-Oh my gods, I just killed my best friend! -Oh, and your worst enemy, so– -Same difference!

Veronica may have been the one to unknowingly hand a mug full of drain cleaner to the most popular and powerful of the mean girls, Heather Chandler, but JD was the one who knowingly handed it to Veronica.

“So they just immediately kill their primary villain?” Astarion scoffs in surprise. “Bold choice, I wouldn’t have expected it from a musical.”

“Oh don’t worry, she’ll be back,” you laugh. “Hey Karlach, who do you think should play Heather C?”

“Oooh, that’s a good question. I feel like it has to be Arabella, right? Who else has got the chops?” Karlach tilts her head to look at you.

“Arabella would also be really good as Veronica though,” you respond, shuffling through all of the theatre majors in your head. “Do you know if Mol is going to audition?”

“Maybe, but I think she wants to stage manage this fall.”

“Oh that makes sense, she’d be great at that,” you nod in agreement.

He’s hungry for a hunk Of the junk in your trunk

“Oh, weird. I don’t remember this song in the script I read,” you say with a frown. It was a while ago when you read it, but you’re pretty sure that this moment – when the high school jocks Kurt and Ram corner Veronica alone – felt a little more comedic and a little less sinister.

“Yeah, same,” Karlach says. “I feel like it was much sillier. Something about balls?”

“I think the hook was ‘you make my balls so blue.’” You try to force a laugh, but what’s playing out on screen is making you uncomfortable. The visual of the jock, Kurt or Ram, you can’t remember which, lewdly humping the air in front of a terrified Veronica doesn’t sit well with you. “This song being about date rape raises the stakes very differently from it being a blue balling joke.”

“Yeah, that’s so much more intense.” Karlach’s frown deepens as Veronica tries to pull her skirt down lower while the boys grab at her aggressively.

“I mean I get it, it’s a much stronger choice narratively, but we’ll have to be careful, give proper warnings and stuff.” You take a sip of your wine and Astarion gently rubs your shoulder.

“Okay, darling?” he hums in your ear. You nod but pull his arm around you a little tighter.

I worship you. I’d trade my life for yours. I’ll make them disappear.

There’s something so much more menacing about JD’s sung lines after having killed the jocks, Kurt and Ram, who tried to sexually assault Veronica. It makes your hackles raise, in part because you can see how toxic it is, but also because you can’t deny that it stirs something inside you. Just earlier today, you threw yourself at Astarion at the mere mental image of him murdering your abuser.

It’s okay if it’s just fantasy, Jaheira’s words ring in your head. Sure, someone saying that they worship you and committing homicide over it isn’t healthy in real life. But in a fantasy that isn’t hurting anyone?

But… how do you decide what’s harmful and what isn’t?

Can’t we be seventeen? Is that so hard to do?

After JD murders Heather Chandler and both Kurt and Ram out of a sense of misplaced righteousness, Veronica begs him to hold on to his youth a little longer and not let the trauma of his mother’s suicide make him grow up so fast.

You feel Astarion’s chest shaking slightly against your back. You glance up at him and his eyes are shining.

“Babe, are you crying?” you whisper and he glares at you.

“What? No. Shut up,” he spits as he wipes away a tear. You strain your neck and kiss his cheek.

VERONICA! Open the– open the door please, Veronica, open the door. Can we not fight anymore, please?

The repercussions of JD's streak of murderous revenge finally catching up with Veronica, she hides from him in her bedroom while he attempts to cry, scream, and sing his way back into her heart.

“This is the one,” you call out. “This is the song that’s all over TikTok with teenage girls saying that she should’ve opened the door.” The context is no different from when you read it – his violent outbursts mixed with unhinged sobbing still make for an energy that you don’t quite know how to respond to.

“I’m pretty sure they know it’s satire, it’s really over the top,” Karlach shrugs.

“Most of them probably do,” you say with a frown, remembering a concerning post that you saw somewhere that said ‘musical JD really loved Veronica while movie JD was just a manipulator.’

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Astarion says, pointing with his nearly empty wine glass. “You’re telling me that young girls like this behavior? Why?”

Shadowheart snorts. “Apparently there’s something appealing about a pathetic wet cat of a man,” she laughs, and Astarion pouts.

I wish your dad were good, I wish grownups understood. I wish we’d met before They convinced you life is war.

Veronica is pleading with a gun-wielding JD to not blow up the school during the pep rally when something suddenly clicks for you.

“Oh my gods, that’s the thesis statement, that’s what this whole show is about.” You sit up with the realization. “It’s not about mental health, or bullying. I mean it is,” you falter a bit, the wine sloshing around your brain. “But at the root it’s the parents’ fault. All of the adults in this show have been neglectful at best and selfish and bigoted at worst.”

“You know, if you want a good classical play with that theme,” Astarion shrugs, “then you should propose Romeo & Juliet.” Your jaw drops and you whirl around to face him.

“Holy shit, you’re so brilliant, I love you.”

Hey yo, Westerberg, tell me what’s that sound? Here comes Westerberg, comin’ to put you in the ground!

Your whole body freezes as the blood drains from your face. Somewhat delayed, you slap a hand over your mouth to keep you from accidentally revealing anything else. Astarion stares at you, his mask completely expressionless. Karlach and Shadowheart seem to remain oblivious to the monumental tension between you and Astarion.

Westerberg will knock you out And send you straight to–

Fuck.

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zoesmp4 · 14 hours

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WARMTH “and so, you drifted into sleep, finding solace in the warmth of his presence.” daryl dixon x fem!reader

tags: hurt to comfort, ass ending (i tried 💔), swearing, reader is on her period, short

a/n: first daryl fic woop woop!! everyone say thank you gracie cs she requested yet another good fic idea 😵‍💫 so it was supposed to be a fluff but it ended up being a htc.. oopsies.. but hope ygs enjoy!!

there were many perks that came from being a female. but periods? not one of them. you don’t know why your younger self was so eager to get it. to put it simply, periods sucked. they made you feel awful.

before the apocalypse it was already pretty hard for you. but now, it was incomparable. after all, it’s not like you had shit just laying around to help you.

so, whatever you thought was “rough” back then, it was way rougher now. when it was your time of month. you would get cranky, a stark contrast to your usual bubbly demeanor. on top of that, you also had to deal with the fatigue and endless mood swings.

the worst thing though, was the cramps. the constant waves of sharp pain pushed you to your limit.

they were also the reason you were currently perched on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, with your knees held up to your chest.

honestly, it had been a decent day until now. you did some stuff to help out, and caught up with your friends. you were able to partially take your mind off of the discomfort you were feeling.

but of course, the stupid cramps ruined it all. you had to excuse yourself before hastily making your way back to your room. you practically collapsed onto your bed the second you walked in.

and that’s how you found yourself in this situation. if anyone walked by your room, they would assume you were dying. or atleast, that’s what your countless groans made it sound like.

to your luck, you suddenly felt the urge to cry. “suck it up.” you told yourself, knowing that this was another dumb mood swing which was a normal occurrence during your period. but, you lost the battle between your emotions and you.

with the pain coming from your cramps, and the sudden sadness you felt, you couldn’t stop yourself. tears welled up in your eyes and cascaded down, mimicking a waterfall.

only a few moments later, you jumped slightly when you heard a loud knock at your bedroom door. the person didn’t even wait for your response before barging in. that sort of thing would’ve annoyed you if it was any other person, but it was daryl.

you felt slightly embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state, but he was your boyfriend. he’s seen you at your worst. he quickly walked over to to your bed, his footsteps echoing.

“what’s up with ya? heard ya weren’t feeling too good.” he said, sitting down on your bed. he placed the back of his hand onto your forehead, checking to see if you were sick. after noticing you didn’t have a fever, he wiped his thumb under your eyes to wipe away the hot tears.

“no fever. why do ya look like yer bout’ to hurl?” he asked. the vision he put in your head didn’t make you feel any better. daryl didn’t know that much about periods, but you couldn’t blame him.

you opened your mouth to reply, but instead you let out another groan. he looked at you with concern in his eyes. “what do ya need? what’s wrong?” he grunted out.

all you needed was something that would relieve these fucking cramps. you needed a heating pad, but of course, you didn’t have one. so, you did the only thing that could help you in that moment.

you gently pulled your boyfriend’s head down to rest on your lap. you sighed in small relief. the feeling of his warmth coming into contact with your body felt nice.

meanwhile, daryl on the other hand was full of confusion. “the hell ya doin’?” he asked. “shut up, just give me a minute.” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

he wanted to protest, but he held himself back. he knew this was helping you, and thats all he really cared about. “get to sleep angel.” he quietly muttered.

and so, you drifted into sleep, finding solace in the warmth of his presence.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem!reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead oneshot #daryl dixon oneshot #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #twd x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #the walking dead smut

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atzaurora · 19 hours

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먹다-"eat."

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let them eat cake

member: ot8

pairing: fem!reader x idol!members (9th member au)

type: imagine (angst, fluff/comfort)

warnings: !!ED!! dni if you cannot cope with any topic about disordered eating or eds in general!

a/n: I thought about writing about mental health topics for a while now and decided to give it a go now. I myself struggle a lot with unhealthy eating habits and it might never go away so I think it's a great comfort story for all the people who feel the same :3 please know that you can text me anytime and you are beautiful!!! now enjoy ^^

here's my masterlist!

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"shit" you mumble, stepping down from the scale again only to step back on right away. 2 kilo more than yesterday, only if you hadn't eaten like basically half of the fridge in one go. but you couldn't help yourself.

staring at all the snacks, your stomach empty for at least 5 days. you had to.

so you ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, mascara running down your cheeks as you stuffed food into your mouth, more and more, till you physically couldn't fit any more into your stomach. exhausted from everything you went straight to bed, after cleaning everything up, making sure none of the others saw what had happened to all the food.

you didn't wanna be like this, starved, low on energy, no motivation for even the smallest things but you couldn't do anything against it. but you didn't tell anyone, in fact, your management was more than happy about how your body looked which only made you keep going, -1,2,3,4,5,6... you needed to loose more, the desire to lose more, now too big to stop.

you could see the others starting to notice, the way Seonghwa had looked into your eyes after laying his hand around your wrist, he could feel how thin it was. "honey are you alright?" he had asked. "I'm fine, everything is great, why would you ask?" you bluntly responded, that answer already being on autopilot by now.

he left you alone after that response, he didn't want to bother you, yet he knew something was wrong. and he wasn't the only one, everyone looked at you worried after you spit out yet another "I'm not hungry" when they offered you food. but it still worked. no one was brave enough to speak up and say that they knew you were in fact not fine.

today was another day of dance practice. a quite intense one actually, which was not the perfect combination to a 5 days empty stomach. but you had to pull through. everybody went into the car, Jongho getting in last and shutting the door as he drove you all to the company.

in the practice room, everyone set down their things, turning on the music and getting in position. standing up already made your vision go black for a few seconds, you didn't even wanna know what would happen if you did such an intense dance. but you guess you are about to find out.

the room was a whirlwind of activity as everyone settled in, stretching and chatting, the atmosphere a mix of excitement and exhaustion. You placed your bag in the corner, taking a deep breath as you tried to ignore the gnawing emptiness in your stomach. You could feel the concerned glances from the other members, their silent worry a weight you couldn’t shake off.

"Y/N, you okay?" Wooyoung’s voice broke through your thoughts, his eyes searching yours for any sign of truth.

"Yeah, just a bit tired," you lied, forcing a smile. "Ready to dance."

You moved into position, the music starting to pulse through the speakers. The choreography was demanding, each step requiring precision and energy you didn’t have. As the dance progressed, you felt your limbs growing heavier, your vision starting to blur. You pushed yourself harder, desperate to keep up, 'don't you dare give in now' you told yourself, but your body had reached its limit.

Halfway through the routine, your legs gave out, and you crumpled to the floor. then nothing. not a sound, no light, just complete darkness. you took it too far this time. fuck. the music stopped abruptly, replaced by the sounds of panicked voices and hurried footsteps. your vision and hearing then came back after a few seconds but everything was blurry, seemed almost unreal.

"Y/N!" San was the first to reach you, his face a mix of fear and concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I’m fine," you tried to say, but your voice was weak, barely audible. The room spun around you, and you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, strong arms carrying you out of the practice room.

Everything became a blur after that, a flurry of worried faces and hurried words. You were taken to the company’s infirmary, where a doctor checked your vitals, their expression grave.

"She’s severely malnourished and dehydrated," the doctor said, looking at the others. "She needs rest and proper nutrition immediately."

Hongjoong’s face was tight with worry, his usual calm demeanor shattered. "How could this happen?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You were too exhausted to respond, your body shutting down as you were hooked up to an IV. The room was quiet, the silence heavy with unspoken fears. You drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling a hand squeeze yours gently. Based on what you could feel you were pretty sure it was Wooyoung. you knew how his hand felt in yours and this gave you at least a bit of comfort in this moment.

When you finally woke up, you were back at the dorm, lying in your bed. The room was dimly lit, and you could hear soft voices from the living room. You tried to sit up, but your body protested, every muscle aching.

"Hey, don’t move too much." Yunho's voice was gentle as he entered the room, a worried smile on his face. "You need to rest."

You looked at him, tears welling up in your eyes. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn’t want to worry anyone."

Yunho sat down beside you, his expression softening. "We’re more worried about you than anything else, Y/N. We’ve noticed for a while now, but we didn’t know how to help."

"Why didn’t you say anything?" you asked, feeling a mix of guilt and relief.

"We wanted to, but we didn’t want to push you away," he admitted. "We’ve all been so worried."

The door opened, and the rest of the members filed in, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. Yeosang stepped forward, his eyes filled with determination.

"We’ll look out for you more, Y/N. We’re going to get through this together."

Tears streamed down your face as you nodded, the weight of your struggles finally lifting. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but with their support, you felt a glimmer of hope. You weren’t alone anymore.

Mingi handed you a bowl of soup, his smile encouraging. "Start with this, okay? Small steps."

You took the bowl, feeling the warmth spread through your hands. You looked at the soup for a bit, handing it back to Mingi, who gave you a confused glance. "can you do it?" you asked quietly. "you want me to feed you?" he smiled softly "sure sweetheart." he lifted the spoon giving you small portions to swallow.

the others sat around you, their presence a comforting reminder that you were loved and cared for.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace. You had a long road ahead, but with them by your side, you knew you could face it. Together.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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lunajay33 · 3 days

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Not the Only One Part.2

•🌪️🍂🪵🏹•

Summary: Reader comes from an abusive family and is insecure about it showing up everywhere with bruises, but one night she comes across Daryl who is more like you than you know

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Content Warning: Abusive parents

Part.1

•Masterlist•

I woke up feeling sore all over, rolling over in the bed I notice Daryl still fast asleep, I try to get up slowly……quietly but as I sit up he groans groggily opening his eyes

“Where ya goin?” His voice still raspy with sleep

“Just gonna get more pain meds, I’m really sore, sorry I woke you”

“Ain’t gotta be sorry, bout time I get up anyways” he got out of bed and grabbed some more aspirin and a bottle of water that was on his dresser

“Thanks, I should probably head home now, don’t wanna over stay my welcome” I laugh pathetically

“Yer staying, like I said last night ya ain’t going back there, ya need a break, hell we both do” he said sitting down next to me on the bed

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Come on I’ll show ya” he took my hand and led me out of the house to the woods that were behind his house surrounding the lake

“Is this your way of telling me you’re going to kill me” I joke with him as he drags me through trees and bushes

“Ya caught me” he smiles as he looks back at me

We stopped at a clearing that over looked the lake with the morning sun shining down on the water, we both sat down just watching the serene moment, I gently laid my head on his shoulder eventually feeling him lay his against my head, in the span of a day he’s been there for me more than anyone ever has in my life, that feeling last night when he consoled me and made me feel like I wasn’t a burden or like all this isn’t my fault and he understood, it made my heart flutter and I want more of that, I want more moments like this with Daryl

“How is it we basically grew up a few houses apart when we could have helped each other this whole time”

“Don’t know sunshine, but ya ain’t alone now” he said as he picked at his fingers nervously

“I don’t wanna go back there, I can’t do it anymore and I don’t want you to hurt anymore either” he was silent for some time

“What do ya wanna do then?” My heart was beating fast with thrill but mixed with anxiety

“What if we just ran away, my aunt lives on a farm like an hour away and she lives alone, she always said she’s lonely and she has a lot of space, what if we just go there, start over together”

“I don’t know, ain’t we gonna be a lot to take in?”

“She calls all the time telling me to move with her, I always said no because well dad would go crazy but I need to go, and you’re so sweet she’d love to have you around, I can call and ask” he seemed to think it over before he nodded

We went back to his house and I dialed my aunts number waiting a few rings before she answered

“Hello?”

“Aunt Carrie it’s me y/n”

“Oh sweetie I didn’t recognize the number”

“Yeah I’m calling from a friends house ummmm I need to ask you something” I asked feeling my voice quiver, Daryl holding my hand in encouragement

“I’ve never told you because I was scared of what might happen but dads been hitting me, he has for a long time and this time was really bad, I can’t live her anymore and I have know where else to go, I know it’s a lot to ask but could me and my friend come live with you, we need to get out of here”

“Oh love you should have come to me sooner, you and your friend are welcome to come live here for as long as you’d like, I love you sweetheart”

“Love you too” we both hung up and I turned to Daryl smiling

“She said yes, we can live there for as long as we want” he pulled me into a hug mindful of my back

“Thank ya, ya can go pack and meet me back here and we can take my truck and go” with that we went our ways, I entered the house and no one was home, I took a suitcase and packed as much as I could as I was leaving the house I saw Daryl throwing some things in the box of his truck, I wheeled over and he helped load my stuff up

“Are ya sure bout this?” He asked brushing my hair back

“I want this Daryl, let’s go before someone comes home” we got in his truck and the engined roared as we pulled out, driving past the house that only brought awful memories, driving past the sign telling us we were now leaving town seemed to lift this weight off my chest and it seemed to have the same effect of Daryl

Throughout the hour drive Daryl played his music and we just enjoyed the comfort of knowing we got out, when we got to a dirt road I gave him directions, pulling up to the farm it was as beautiful as I remembered, huge green fields with roaming horses, a little pen for lambs and sheep that were hopping around, and there in the middle of all the land stood a big older house that just brought everything together, Daryl pulled up the drive way and parked, shutting off the truck

“Didn’t know it would be all this, thought it’d be somethin small, don’t know if I deserve this” my heart hurt at how he saw his worth, I thought he deserves all this and more

“Daryl this is our home now and what we’ve been through we deserve some peace, now come on let’s go inside”

It’s been a month since we moved to the farm and it’s been the most peace I’ve had in years, Daryl and I were sitting out in the field watching the sun set, listening to the frogs crook

“Are you happy here Daryl?”

“Ya know I am, best thing anyone could’ve given me”

“Do you think maybe we could be more than friends eventually” I asked extremely nervous that this might push him away

He looked down at me his face hard to read making matters worse

“Thought we already were” my eyes widen and my heart skips a beat, did I miss a something?

“What really? And when did this happen without me knowing?” I tease

“That night ya came to my room, had that nightmare and needed me, I knew then that ya were the one, thought ya felt the same” he said squeezing my hand

“So we’re dating, thee Daryl Dixon is my boyfriend” I laugh leaning my head back to his shoulder

“I’m all yers sunshine”

This was only a short sweet series I hope you all liked it🩶

Taglist: @l0kilaufeys0n7 @stoner420things69 @pinchofthetwd @thestonedwriter @daryldixmedown @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @superbowlisgay @daryls-wife @pinkratts @daryl-dixons-left-hand @mrrumplebottom @twistedprincess-92 @addi1978 @wongcena @darylspersonalwhore @starrqi @heidiland05 @livlaughlove03

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crybaby-bkg · 3 days

Text

Narration by Choso Kamo

Choso x f!reader Warnings: smut, public sex, public blow jobs, library sex, librarian reader, barista choso, reader wears glasses and a skirt once, choso picks reader up once, calls reader princess once, and unprotected sex. Word count: 6.9k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on Ao3!

Inspired by this post

To get a bit of some extra cash in your final year at college, you had applied to work at your university’s library. The job didn’t seem too busy, and your last few classes were supposed to be pretty light, so the workload was manageable by the time you were brought on during the summer. The most you did was reboot computers, and put the occasional stray book away by the students who still lingered during these times. But, when the fall semester started, so did the cafe inside the library get rebooted.

It was a small thing, tucked into a far corner for students to grab a coffee, or five, when finals started to roll around. The offered little pastries, and other delicacies, something the head librarian hated when the school installed it a few years ago. She complained about the mess some students would leave, how their grubby fingers would ruin the pages of old books. But you had never found an issue with any of it, and if anything, enjoyed the extra company of those who looked for something sweet to break up the boringness of their day.

Especially the company of one of two baristas. His name was Choso, the other guy you can’t really recall the name of, but you know he has one eye and is always mean mugging and grumbling to himself about something. His off-putting nature immediately made you wary of Choso, but the dark haired man seemed to be the complete opposite of his companion, despite the vibe he gives off.

“Extra caramel, and two sugars, right?” Choso asks you, ripping you away from your computer filing duties at the front desk. Your head whips up, glasses perched on the edge of your nose, your eyes still a little blurry from staring at the screen so much. When your vision focuses, do you finally take notice of the cup he’s offering to you. Its brown covering has your name scribbled onto the side of it, as if he would be giving this drink to anyone else in the library at this same time of day.

“You already know,” you laugh, winking at Choso from over your glasses. “You’ve been serving me this same drink everyday for the past three months now. Thank you,”

When you take the cup from him, your fingers brush. His hands are cold, always, no matter the temperature outside or how clammy the library gets when the air conditioning breaks for the millionth time. Choso’s eyes linger on where your fingertips meet, pulling away when he realizes he’s still holding your drink hostage, the apples of his cheek staining the palest shade of red. He notices your staring at him, that sweet little smile on your lips, and tucks his chin into his high hood, scratching at the back of his neck as his eyes lower to the front desk that separates you two.

“Any book recommendations for me?” He asks, goes about your regular routine. It’s something you’ve fell into step with; him offering you a free drink in exchange for a good read without it being marked in the system so he can keep it for however long. He always seems to get them back to you by the end of the week, so as to keep the head librarian from getting too suspicious about missing books.

You hum, pushing your keyboard to the side with one hand as you sip on your drink with the other. You wrap your lips around the straw in focus, unaware of how Choso’s plum eyes take every bit of you in; the smudge on your glasses lens, the stray hair framing your face, those black and white earrings you seem to favor, that sparkly brown gloss that makes your lips plump. He swallows thickly when you reach under the desk and pull a book out, guilty gaze snapping to the dark cover.

“I found this one the other day,” you tell him, flipping the book over in your hands as you skim the back of it for the blurb. “Just started it, but I’m liking it so far. Think it has a few sex scenes in it, though, if thats your thing.”

You try to say it as nonchalantly as you can muster, despite the heat that creeps up your neck with your words. Is it inappropriate? To recommend a book to your kind-of-coworker with explicit scenes that makes your thighs clench? To want to know if he’ll be equally as bothered as you are when you read it? To want to know if he’ll think of you during those scenes, the same way you think of him?

“Yeah, I don’t mind ‘em,” Choso states with a shrug, but the way his ears are turning pink tells you everything you need to know. He takes the book from you either way though, flipping it over in his pale palms, his lips pursed in concentration as he reads the blurb. By the time he looks up, you’re licking off a stray dribble of your drink from your bottom lip, eyes focused on your computer once more.

“Does it sound good?” You ask him without taking your eyes off of the screen, despite the fact that Choso can’t seem to take his own off of you. He only answers when you glance up at him with a small smile, your eyebrows raised in question.

“Yeah,” he nods once without further preamble, his own smile tiny and barely there.

“Promise not to spoil it for me?” You tease him, looking at him from over your glasses with a small smirk. Choso rolls his eyes into his head, groaning a little as he scratches at his cheek offhandedly.

“I did it one time,” he complains, but you cut him off with a finger wagged in his direction.

“One time too many!” Someone shushes you on the other side of the library, but you can only giggle behind your hand. Choso matches your smile, his own crooked and boyish and so goddamn handsome, that you have to look back at your computer, where you’ve been typing gibberish since he walked up to you.

“Still want me to bake you another chocolate croissant before my shift’s over?” He asks, his stance relaxed as he places his hands in his pockets, head cocked slightly to the side. You take him in, his plain white shirt and baggy black joggers and gray apron that hugs his waist so nicely.

“Please,” you mumble, chin resting in your palm as you answer him. “Jogo always complains whenever I try to take one without paying, and won’t make anymore when they run out.” You roll your eyes at the thought, frowning a little.

“Yeah, he’s an ass at times.” Choso agrees, leaning against the front desk now, slightly hovering over you, a sight that you more than welcome into your mind’s eye. More fuel for your fantasies when you start reading, you suppose.

“That’s why you’re my favorite, Cho’,” you smile at him toothily, sighing a dreamy little sigh, tucking your hands under your chin and all. Choso freezes at that, the pretty face you’re making, the sweet way you call the nickname he loves to hear float from your pretty lips. He subtly adjusts his pants as he throws you a faux glare.

“Am I?” He asks sarcastically, tucking the book you gave him under his arm, hands shoved in his pockets once more.

“Of course.” You shrug, before tacking on, “You’ve gotta pretty face and a nice pair of hands that make me so many good things.” You’re milking it, and he knows it, as he snorts softly with another roll of his eyes, pushing away from the desk as he glances at the clock above your head. His break is almost up, and it wouldn’t be a regular day if he didn’t spend the entirety of it with you.

“You just don’t wanna pay.” Choso points out, eyebrow cocked in challenge, but you concede with an over exaggerated shrug.

“That is also true,” you don’t deny him, which only makes the dark haired man smile crookedly at you. He nods once, beginning to walk away backwards into his little cafe nook before Jogo comes to the front to harass him into coming back on time.

“I’ll get started on them for you.” He emphasizes the last word, signifying that he’s not making them for just anybody, but only for specially little you. It makes you grin, blowing him a little kiss as you wink at him.

“Thank you,” you singsong, grinning even wider when he only rolls his eyes once more, grinning, before turning on his heel and stalking back to his station. You watch him go the entire time, wonder when you’ll grow some confidence and finally ask him out on the date you’ve wanted to go on since you had your first conversation with him. You think it’ll be one day soon, and can only hope that it’ll be as magical as the romances in the books you share with him.

…

A couple nights later, and everything has been the same; stagnant and fun, but agonizing in your want to be more than just kind-of-coworkers who gift each other books and treats. A little frustrated by the day and the lack of anything groundbreaking happening, you decide to treat yourself by buying one of your favorite authors new audiobook she just released. You had it in your budget to splurge just the tiniest bit, and you figured you could spend your extra money on extraordinary smut with an equally as amazing storyline.

Understanding A Life Like Mine

Chase has just turned twenty-three, and has no idea what he wants to do with his life. After being kicked out by his narcissistic father, and having no understanding of his own identity, he decides to explore the world. Determined to find value in life, he travels the country, and finds himself intertwined with a mysterious woman he had a one night stand with in one of the many club’s he’s visited.

Something has clicked between them, and its more than just a casual fling he tries to dismiss it as. With this new awakening, Chase begins this treacherous journey of finding value and meaning in human connection—in more ways than one.

You read a few of the reviews of the book, noting how most people say that the storyline and character development is just as good as the detailed smut throughout the book. Checking your account one more time, you hit purchase on the audiobook, plug your headphones in, and get started on preparing dinner for the night.

But, as the narrator begins to read through the acknowledgments and warnings of the book, you give pause. His voice sounds oddly familiar, in its husk and gravely tone. As you go back to the webpage to search up the author, he states his name right before beginning the first chapter.

Choso Kamo.

You feel your whole body freeze, eyes wide in confusion, eyebrows scrunched before they damn near fly off of your forehead in surprise. And this is the first fucking chapter?

“The way she sinks down on my cock is purely sinful. The plushness of her body molds to the shape of my fingertips, bruising her skin, a reminder to her for later when she’s sore and limping from the way I stretch her out. She’s pretty when she moans, her eyes half lidded and her gaping mouth smeared with red lipstick, a similar stain on my tip. I can’t control the thrust up into her, nor the growl that emits from my throat when she clenches down around me.”

You think your heart just fell out of your ass.

Choso is narrating this book? He does audiobook narration? Since fucking when? And why hadn’t he told you about it? You had recommended enough books to him, a few even written by the author that he reads from now, and he never thought to mention something like this? In a sense, you’re a little in your feelings about the whole thing. You know you two weren’t necessarily the best of friends, but you thought that you had at least developed some kind of connection that you two could share your common interests together. You remembered him mentioning once or twice a couple of odd jobs he had done to help his brother, and you wonder now if this was one of them.

But, on the other hand, something about his voice does…things to you. Things that make you have to turn off the stove and patter into your room, shutting the door and locking it in fear of one of your roommates hearing you. You just stand there for a second, eyes unseeing as you continue to listen to the audiobook and Choso’s grating voice as he narrates.

“She keeps riding me, her tits bouncing enticingly, and I can’t help but catch a mouthful. She moans when my teeth nip at her sensitive nipples, pulling her closer and closer to me until she can only desperately rut her hips against mine. I’m getting close, and by the way she’s spasming around me, I can tell she’s about to cum on my cock.”

You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t—really, he’s your kind-of-friend-kind-of-coworker! This would be immoral, right? Buying an audiobook that he narrates, just to get off to it? This wasn’t what you purchased the book for.

But, the more you listen, the more temptation starts to grab you by the collar, hauling you down, down, down into your bedsheets, your vibrator in hand. You press it firmly against your clit over your panties, trying to convince yourself that what you’re doing isn’t weird, won’t cause any tension or awkwardness in your relationship with Choso.

…

You couldn’t be more wrong. The next day, you show up a few minutes late to work, your headphones still jammed deep into your ears, seven new audiobooks (that you can’t afford) downloaded on your phone, their one thing in common being Mr. Choso Kamo to narrate them. You listen to it on low, hoping that nobody who comes near will be able to hear his deep grunts and wispy sighs and his demand for you to squirt on his cock like a good girl, just like that—

“Extra caramel, two sugars?” Choso suddenly appears in front of you, pale, veiny hand holding delicately onto your drink that he presents to you. You jump, guilty, snatching your headphones out of your ear, scrambling to turn your phone off. Choso looks at you a little weird, his eyebrows screwed up in concern as you shakily reach for the drink without ever looking at him.

“Thanks,” you murmur, glancing up at the handsome man, the black strip tatted across his nose, before you find your eyes jumping back to your still unlogged in computer screen.

“Everything okay?” Choso asks you, leaning his forearms on the front desk. He looks so cute, concerned like that, his head tilted, stray hairs falling from his twin buns into his face. His eye bags are deep, but the plum in his eyes seem to shine a little brighter under the too white fluorescent lights. His gaze is unwavering as he takes you in, bottom lip slightly pouted in concern the more you fidget under his staring.

“Yeah, just feeling a little under the weather.” You lie, thighs suddenly slippery as all you can think about is his fuckin’ voice, the things written in the books, how he always seems to take on the narration roles written in first person.

… she grabs my belt buckle as we dance on the packed club floor, her eyes sultry, her mouth pretty (does Choso think your mouth is pretty, too?) … she’s even prettier when she forces me on my knees, my face between her thighs (would he like someone more in control, that guides his face this way and that?) … she tastes like stardust, like something miraculous, like something I can find home in (your vibe is turned to its highest setting, so high you think you may reach him amongst the stars)… my cock twitches with every clench of her hole, and she squeezes my head so hard around her thighs, I fight for breath (you cum from just his voice, hiccuping a little sigh when the chapter starts coming to a close) … I don’t mind an honorable death at the hands of her cunt (…you pick up your vibe once more).

“Want me to drive you home?” Choso pulls you out of your own head, his face really scrunched in concern now from the distant look in your eyes, the beads of sweat dotting your temples. “I can get Jogo to cover my shift until I’m back.”

But you shake your head before he can finish, shoulders hiked up to your ears as you try to shoot him an easygoing smile, that you think may look more pained than anything. You wave him away quickly, as you start typing in your login information, cursing yourself for how your check is going to get docked for logging in so late.

“No, I’ll be fine, Choso. Thanks so much anyway, though.” You tell him, taking your first sip of the drink he made you, sighing a little at the taste. Your eyes flutter closed for half a second as you sink into your seat, your smile less strained this time when you open your eyes and look at him.

Now he’s the one who looks strained, his face almost seemingly in pain as his eyes divert from your form as quick as your own had. You look down at yourself, wondering if you’ve somehow made a mess, if you forgot to button up your last button, before you realize you hadn’t even put on a button up shirt today, but instead a low cut tank because of the heat. When you look back at Choso, his cheeks have the lightest tint of red to them, and he suddenly can’t meet your eye anymore.

“If you say so.” He mumbles, before tapping the desk twice as he steps away from it. “Just let me know if your mind changes, okay?” He says, stepping off into his little nook before you have a chance to respond back. You watch as he goes, his shoulders a little hunched, the fluffiness of his hair making it bounce with every step, his toned waist that shows through how tightly he ties his apron.

You know why you looked guilty when you saw him, but why did he mirror your expression in the same way?

…

Another day passes, and you think you’re starting to put yourself into a financial hole with how many audiobooks you’ve purchased that Choso has narrated. Can you become addicted in less than forty-eight hours? Because you think you might actually be addicted to his voice, and you’re a little hesitant to find out what the cure may consist of.

Thankfully, Choso wasn’t scheduled to work today. Jogo had made that known the moment he came in, reminding you that if you wanted your sugary drinks, then you’d have to come to him to get them, and pay for them yourself. Which was absolutely something you would not be doing.

For some odd reason though, it doesn’t make you feel better to know that you won’t see Choso today. You should, seeing as how awkward the two of you were yesterday, should be relieved that you don’t have to scramble to turn off your audiobook every time he walks up. But, you miss him, your routine together, your banter, his pretty face, his even prettier voice. You find yourself a little bored as the day goes on, finals right around the corner, so you’re mostly just looking things up in the computer.

An hour before your shift is due to close, in walks Choso. He looks a little frustrated, his eyebrows downturned as he walks in with a bag slung over his shoulder, and his hands tucked into his pockets. You perk up at the sight of him near the front, putting a few books away, as you stand up and brush your hands on your maxi skirt.

“Cho!” You call his name in both greeting and surprise. “I thought you weren’t scheduled for today? The cafe closed two hours ago, anyway.” You cock your head at him as you place your hands on your hips, grateful that you never pressed play on your audiobook after someone asked you a few questions about a couple books they needed.

Choso looks sheepish, in his own way, his mouth puckered and frowning as he scratches at his nape. You notice that his hair is down today, how it flows over the broad expanse of his shoulders and down the top of his back. He wears a baggy black sweater and white shirt underneath, ripped black jeans and boots that look too heavy to walk in.

“Yeah, I wasn’t scheduled for today, but I needed to reserve a room in the back for a couple hours.” His eyes get shifty as he speaks, as if he can’t bear it to look you in the eye, like he must somehow know all of your dirty little secrets. So you cock your head at him, taking a few steps in his direction, wonder if now will be the moment he reveals that he knew you had been getting off to his voice for days now.

“Oh yeah? Can I ask what for?” You walk up to him, watch how his eyes drift down your form before they slide over to the other side of the library. You don’t comment on it, just walk past him to the front desk, leaning over your chair to start typing up on your computer.

“I just need to finish this one thing.” He says nonchalantly, despite the fact that he clutches his bag to him just a bit closer. “I was gonna do it at home like usual, but Yuuji is hosting a party and somehow forgot to mention it to me, and I need the place to be quiet.”

Yuuji was Choso’s little brother, and could be a bit of a brat at times, from the stories you had heard. Mainly because of how spoiled he was by his older brother, so it was no surprise that the younger boy had taken it upon himself to throw a party last minute. You glance up at Choso from behind your glasses, find his eyes lingering where your low top lays on your chest before they sneak up to meet your already focused gaze. He swallows thickly.

“You know you usually have to reserve these places a day beforehand, but I think I can pull a couple of strings for you.” You tell him with a wink, your own face heating at the realization. Choso was admiring you, taking all of you in, and you realize again—that he’s always done that. Has always stared at you with these lingering looks, has always been so kind, always complimented you whenever you did something new with your makeup or wore something kind of experimental for your style. Choso was…interested in you, wasn’t he?

Or were you just too full of yourself?

“I appreciate it.” His words snap you out of your head, and you nod absentmindedly as you click around on your computer. You look for available rooms at this hour with such late notice, and find one for him.

“Okay, looks like room four is available for about two hours before someone is scheduled to be in there.” You smile at him, nodding your head in the direction of the office rooms toward the back of the library. “It’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” Choso says with a small smile, clutching his bag to his form once more before he retreats to the back of the library. You watch him as he goes, your throat closing up on you when you catch a glimpse of a desktop microphone peaking out from the top of his bag, under his arm.

No way. No fuckin’ way he came here, reserved a room where you worked, at night when its mostly empty, just so he could record his narration for an audiobook? You wonder if this one will be as dirty as the others, if they’ll detail such graphic scenes that your Pavlov’d body will instantly grow hot, your inner thighs slippery?

Should you say something to him? Confront him about knowing what he does on the side? Ask him why he chose to narrate an author that you personally had recommended to him? He knew that you would occasionally listen to audiobooks—did he not think that you would find out?

Your mind races for the entire last hour of your shift, your bottom lip bitten raw from how much you’ve chewed on it. When the clock indicates that you can technically go home, you hesitate. Should you really go home, when opportunity has dropped itself right in front of you?

Biting the bullet, you quickly scurry over to the front desk computer, clocking yourself out for the day before you shove your bags into a dark corner, so the next librarian coming in won’t be suspicious about you still being here after your scheduled hours (she’s a nosy somebody).

Steeling yourself once more, you walk to room four, surprised to find that Choso didn’t pull down the privacy blinds for the room. It’s soundproof though, unfortunately, so you can only stand there on the other side of the window, watch how closely he leans into his microphone, hold it so close to him, like a lover would.

He wears a big pair of headphones over his ears, and you understand now, why he kept his hair down. It frames his face beautifully, inky black and soft as it caresses the highest points of his cheeks. His mouth, pink, curves over his words, his plum eyes scanning the computer in front of him as he reads the words into the mic. He’s a sight that you wish you can ingrain into your mind for the next century.

With a deep breath, do you knock on the window to gain his attention. He doesn’t hear it as much as he does see you from the corner of his eye, startling him. His eyes grow comically wide, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You smile at him, and you hope its as enticing as the entirety of him is to your own sight. Wiggling your fingers in a wave, you motion to the door, which he scrambles to stand up and open.

“What are you still doing here?” Choso asks you, guards the opening of the door with his body protectively. Is he embarrassed to be caught? He looks winded, as if he had run an entire mile to get to you, despite his steps being lesser than five. You look at him as innocently as you can muster, hands clasped behind your back as you tilt your head up to him.

“I just got off, and I was wondering if I could stick around with you for the night? Sit and listen, maybe?” You ask sweetly, try to hold back your laugh at how his eyes seem to grow even wider at your words. He splutters for a second, although no words come out, so you continue talking.

“Ya know, I’m a real big fan of your work, Choso. I just wanted to hear it in real time.” You wonder how deep the flush on his cheek goes; if he splatters over the curve of his Adams apple, or down to the apex of his chest, further where his stomach hardens. He looks so fucking cute like that, all wild hair from how he snatches off his headset, to the way he darts his eyes all around the library in case anybody overheard you.

He quickly pulls you into the room and slams the door behind you, pinning you to it with just a confused look. Although, you wished he was holding you by your shoulders, or maybe you pinning you with his hips, like that one character he read for in another book—

“How did you know?” He asks you, his low voice rumbling like thunder rolling in the sky. You can’t help but smile at him, laughing a little under your breath as you fold your arms over your chest, leaning even harder against the door behind you.

“I’m the one who recommended that Lucy Hill to you, dummy.” You tell him, referencing the author of the first book you heard from him, the one that changed your entire world. Choso freezes for a moment before he groans, running a veiny hand over his tired face as he mumbles something to himself.

“Look, you know I sometimes do odd jobs for extra money to help my brother out.” He starts, and you nod at him, ready to tell him that he doesn’t need to explain himself, but he continues on. “And I did one book a few months ago, but I ended up becoming pretty popular and became highly requested to narrate a shit ton of books.”

“Cho, its okay.” You tell him, placing a delicate hand on his cheek when he starts to look more and more like his inner turmoil is taking over. You don’t speak until his eyes meet yours, and you give him the gentlest smile you can muster.

“No need to be ashamed of it. Besides, you have the perfect voice for narrating the books that you do.” You tell him, your own voice slipping into something more sensual, your eyes growing the slightest bit hazy as you think back on how hard you came last night from listening to another book of his. At that, Choso watches your face contort, his bundle of nerves suddenly releasing, as he takes a step forward, leaning his face into your hand as he slowly drapes a single hand over your waist.

“Oh yeah?” He asks, his voice dipping, makes your head grow fuzzy. “How many have you listened to?” His smile is slight, teasing, almost as if the mere look in your eye is enough of a tell of how much you like listening to him. You fix him with a leveled gaze, brushing your thumb over his eye bag, smiling sensually.

“Enough to know that I’d like to aid you in your narration.” At that, Choso growls low and deep in his throat, rumbles your own body where he presses himself against you. He pins you to the door, finally, his thigh sticking between your own to hold up your body that has grown heavy from the look he’s been giving you.

“And how would you be doing that?”

“Ever heard of Hysterical Literature?” You grin at him, time suddenly moving in a flurry right before your eyes. Choso closes the blinds to the room; you lock the door behind you; he places his headset on once more; you sneak under the table in front of his chair; he sits; you tug his pants down; he unzips his zipper; you pull his cock out; he moans.

“Go ahead, pretty boy.” You murmur to him when you hear him clear his throat to start his narration. You peek up from underneath the table, watch how sweat starts to bead on his upper lip, how he keep glancing down at the way you nuzzle his shaft against the roundness of your cheeks. You’re a dirty sight that he knows will become the end of him. With a moments hesitation, Choso clicks something on his laptop, before he begins speaking into the mic.

“‘I fuckin’ hate you’, she spits at me, her eyes bleeding venom as she looks at me with such hatred, I fear my body will burst into flames any minute now. But I can’t focus on that—not when her pussy clamps down around my fingers when I moan at her words. ‘You’re a fuckin’ freak,’ she tells me. I pull my fingers free from her slick hole, clean them with my tongue, staring at her the whole time. ‘That’s what you love about me.’ I grin at her, laughing when her cunt squelches from her clamping down around nothing.”

You’re surprised Choso got that far in his reading without fucking up, seeing as how you’ve been leaving teasing little kisses up and down his shaft. You press your lips ever so gently to his weeping tip, licking your lips against him to taste the saltiness as quietly as you can muster. You hum under your breath, eyes fluttering shut as you go back for another taste and another, until you open your mouth to take him inside of you.

His cock jumps at that, and he stutters, before sighing softly. He rereads the previous sentence after a few clicks on his laptop, and you continue to take him down your throat until you fear you may gag. At that, you pull back, soundless, drool slipping from your mouth to his cock to the seat of his pants, messy and silent. You lap at his tip as gently as you can, your cunt throbbing at the musky smell of him, how his hand inches down to pat ever so gently at your hair.

You hold onto his thighs as you swallow him down as silently as you can, throbbing at the way he fills your mouth up. How he takes up so much space, how the thickness of his cock nestled inside of you in a way that makes you too hazy to think straight. You let out a moan by accident, and hear his stutter once more, before he has to reread another sentence from your little slip up.

“Sorry,” you whisper, more to Choso’s cock than to him, kissing the head once more in apology. His hips twitch almost violently, and he starts again, which makes you chuckle under your breath.

You suck around him, following his shaft further and further down, tilting your head to the side until you can feel his tip bumping your cheek. He caresses his tip through your flesh, softly, almost as if petting you for your good behavior, for swallowing his cock so sweetly with your velvety throat. You hum around him, as if in thanks, and can’t help but sneak a hand up your skirt to only slightly relieve the ache in your clit.

“She—fuck—she cums around my cock with a-a cry as—as she—” Choso is a stuttering mess now, and as you glance up, you can see the way his eyes are starting to cross, how his head tips back ever so slightly, unfocused on the work in front of him. You can’t help but laugh around him, pulling back to spit on the head, when you’re suddenly grabbed under the arm and pulled up from between his thighs.

“Fuck that book, I have to be inside of you now.” Choso growls out, picking you with such quick strength, that it steals your breath away. He carries you to the other side of the table, where his equipment can’t reach, and lays you down gently on your back. He looks at you as if you were a painting of something perfect, and you can’t imagine how you must look with your lipstick smeared and your mascara running from swallowing his cock.

“Can I?” Choso pleads, leaning down until his mouth fits desperately against yours, his aching cock rubbing against the fabric of the front of your skirt, dirtying it in a way that you’ll never want to clean.

“Please, fuck, please say I can fuck you now.” His deep voice goes a little high, desperate in the way he ruts against you, his mouth messy over your own. You can’t help but laugh a little at him, like some excited pup that can’t stop humping your leg. You grab the hair at the nape of his neck and pull until he frees from your mouth, his own sticky with lipgloss and shiny from the precum you transferred over to his lips.

“Fuck me, Choso.” You tell him, a demand in your voice that it makes him growl once more before diving into your lips to kiss you breathless. He doesn’t pull away as he carefully maneuvers your skirt up until it hikes up around your waist, blindly pulling your panties to the side until the warm air of the room greets your exposed cunt. Only then, does he look down, groaning so deep in his throat that you visibly clench at the sound, which only makes his knees weaker for you.

Choso pumps his cock once, twice, can’t help himself to pat the tip on your aching clit a couple of times to get a loud cry out of you before he positions himself at your entrance. He looks up between his fringe, dark hair clouding how red his face has become, as he bites his bottom lip at the sight of you.

“Put it in already,” you whine to him, hips trying to angle themselves to take him in without any of his help. But Choso, the gentleman that he always is, heeds your command without another second of hesitation. Fluidly, he pushes his cock in until his tip is swallowed by your hole. You’re tight around him, makes his arms weak as he collapses on top of you, a shudder going through him.

You cry out loudly, eyebrows scrunched up in the combination of both pain and pleasure. You lock your legs around his waist though, when just the tip isn’t enough for you, egging him on to give you the whole thing. Choso’s hips stutter as he fucks himself into you inch by inch, until his black, wiry pubes tickle your clit, his hips flush against yours.

You feel a little delirious now, with his heavy weight pressing you down into the table, with his warm breath panting and grunting and cursing into your neck, your cheek, against the curve of your mouth. He steals your breath with every inhale, his lids low as he pulls out a few inches before pushing back in, watching your expression all the while.

“God, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” His voice is grating, husky and low where he speaks against the column of your throat. You cry out, tightening around him, his voice seeping into you, all too familiar, except for the fact that you have the real thing in front of you now. You don’t have to waste battery life of your vibrator, or worry about your headphones dying on you anymore. You claw at his shoulders to pull him close, holding him to you, his mouth next to your ear, yours pressed to his own.

“Fuck, keep talking, Cho’,” you plead for him, rocking your hips down to meet his thrusts in tandem, and he only groans in response. You can feel him licking his lips against you as he holds you close to him, one arm wrapped under your shoulders, the other around your waist as he guides your hole to swallow his cock every time.

“I’ve wanted to bury my cock inside of you for s-so long now,” he stutters, voice guttural as he slams his hips against yours so hard that the table shakes. You can only hold onto him around his shoulders, ankles locked behind his waist as you let him have his way with you.

“So warm, so tight, fuck,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your shoulder to now squeeze between your bodies. Your eyes flood with tears from the intensity of it all when he starts thumbing your clit, his cock carving its way inside of you, your slick coating him with ever thrust.

“Cum on my cock, princess, cmon,” Choso demands you, his voice growing impossibly deeper, makes tears squeeze from your eyes as you hold on so tight to him, that he couldn’t move away from you if he tried (he never does). Instead, he holds you even closer, his thrusts short but quick, as to keep from leaving the warmth of your body for too long.

With a cry, you cum around his cock, damn near squeezing the life out of him, makes his voice go breathy and husky, his chest vibrating yours from its deepness. He follows you only seconds later, grunting a curse into your skin as he empties himself inside of you, his hot seed filling you in a way that it makes your head feel hazy in contempt.

You both stay there for a while, trying to catch your breaths, panting and inhaling the others scent. Choso pulls back to look at you, swiping away a stray eyelash on your cheek before he kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly.

“Can we do this more often?” He asks you, seriousness bleeding onto his face. You can’t help but smile as you pull his cheeks down to kiss you, gentle and slow, a contrast to your earlier frantically shared kisses.

“Of course,” you promise him. “As long as you narrate my favorite smut scenes to me the whole time.” Choso groans at that, burying his face in your neck as you can’t help the boisterous laugh that flows out of you, holding him close to your chest. God, you loved being with him already.

thank you all so much for reading! kind comments/likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#choso treats! 🍬

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clonemando · 24 hours

Text

@rooksunday @whiskygoldwings This is your fault, please enjoy.

The campaign with Rex had been nice but Fox couldn't stay forever and when he returned to Coruscant Rex's teasing wouldn't leave his mind. Did his fellow Corries have some sort of secret spot they used for fraternizing he wasn't aware of because of his rank? Rex wasn't wrong, Thorn was one of the flirtiest clones he knew but he had never seen him make out with anyone in the Guard's office. Obviously 79's or random back alleys didn't count. Or maybe they did and that's what Rex hadn't accounted for.

The Guard was a stationary posting so they didn't have to hide in closets to kiss people. They could just put on some civvies and go find a spot not under surveillance.

Feeling more settled with that thought Fox was nothing if not thorough and still decided he had to examine every nook and cranny just to be sure. If there was a spot and they hadn't told him he wanted to dispel any worries his men had. He would never begrudge them their little luxuries even if they broke a million regs. Cody was the hardass, not him and would not let anyone think differently in his own battalions.

Over the next few weeks he canvassed the whole office and found nothing. No traces or anything. He was about to just accept his findings as proof of his original thought when he ended up at his own office early one day and heard some sort of noise from within. Frowning since he knew it should be empty he punched in his door code and then stared when he realized Thorn had Thire pinned to his desk and was basically devouring the poor other trooper.

Thire's eyes nearly popped when he noticed Fox thanks to his position and shoved Thorn off of him.

"W-what? Why do you want to stop? We don't have to- GREAT FORCE GODS! KRIFFING FUCK! I mean, uh... Hi?" Thorn jumped nearly a foot in the air when Thire turned him around and Fox just signed deeply.

"I should have known..." He shook his head as his commanders tried to straighten themselves out. He turned to leave.

"Wait! Uh, are we... In trouble?" Thire asked biting his own kiss swollen lip nervously.

"In trouble? No. But I am going to have to set my office on fire now. Maybe I can blame the Seppies and get away with it... I did love the view though. Can't have shit on Coruscant." He grumbled as he continued walking away and Thorn burst into relieved giggles.

#star wars #fanfic #the clone wars #tcw #sw tcw #my writing #clone troopers #commander fox #commander thorn #commander thire #thorn/thire #fox/rex #clone shipping #cloneshipping

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latenightdaydreams · 2 days

Note

https://twitter.com/jorgez86/status/1786091450238926874?t=qpE0itH41pxOOlJjXdrfNg&s=19

Can you write about Konig who can't stop touching his girlfriend's boobies?

I know I'm sending a lot of requests at the same time but I had to hold myself back to not text you because I know request closed for a reason. Please don't feel obligated or overwhelmed, I just send it and it's okay if you ignore my request, because you're a just human being!❤️❤️❤️

That woman is blessed with the sorest of all backs😮‍💨 Never feel bad for sending them! 🥰🥰

Just a Few Hours (fem)

MDNI 🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, groping, dirty talk

1.1k word count

💒

Big breast was never a requirement for dating. Sure, König loved watching porn with big breasts, but he’s found all breast sizes have their perks. Plus, he can’t exactly be picky. Tall, awkward, and not exactly handsome; he had trouble pulling anyone.

When home from deployment, König tried to find some sort of peace. He would go to the local park early in the morning before it became crowded with kids and cheerful people. It was one of the few moments in his life where things felt okay. The chaos could just stop.

Little did he know you, this big breasted goddess, also felt the same way about early mornings in the park. From the corner of his eye he saw you approaching, the slight jiggle from your breasts noticeable to him. Turning his neck to see you head on, his jaw literally dropped. Underneath your loose-fitting band t, your breast bounced so perfectly.

“Hallo.” The words fell out of his mouth before he even realized it.

You looked over to see the most beautiful icy blue eyes gazing up at you as he sat on the floor by a tree.

“Hi.” You smiled so sweetly his way.

One impulsive hello sparked a full two-year relationship. König genuinely fell in love with who you are as a person, your breasts just being a massive perk imaginable. No matter the situation, König can’t keep his hands to himself.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind, but today is your friend’s wedding. König drives the both of you as he sulks about the time he has to spend away from you. One hand on the steering wheel, the other cupping your breast.

“Schatz, I’m going to go crazy being without you for a whole day.” This middle finger lightly flicks over your nipple through the fabric of your evening dress. The dress required you to not wear a bra. König, of course, didn’t mind; but now he would be a fool the whole time.

“König, I’m literally going to be right next to you the whole time.”

“Ja, but I can’t touch you.” He glances over at his hand on your breast, softly jiggling it.

“You’re too much König.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Can you blame me? You’re perfect.” He reaches his hand behind the fabric and pulls out the breast he’s been playing with. “Other one too.” He demands you to take it out.

“König, you’re driving. Someone could see.”

“I’ll drive safe…plus the windows are tinted. Come on.” He doesn’t take no for an answer, so you oblige and take out your other breast.

“Mein Gott…” Every time seeing your breasts is like the first time again.

He moves his hands over and squeezes both of your breasts before his fingers play with your nipples. He gives attention to both of them equally. You let him continue until you got close to the venue, pushing his hand away to slip your breasts back into your shirt.

“Liebling,” Köing sounds so pathetic as if you took a toy away from a whining dog.

“Stop, act normal.”

“Act normal? I always act normal.” He mumbles under his breath as he pulls into the parking lot and searches for a spot.

Once the car is parked, he unbuckles his seat belt and turns his head to you. He watches your breasts move as you take off your own seat belt. Your eyes meet his and you can see that he is just paying attention to them.

“König, my door?”

“Oh!” He gets out of the car quickly and rushes over to the other side to open the door for you. He playfully bows, “My lady…”

You laugh and step out of the car. He holds his hand out for you to grab. You both walk forward to the wedding venue. The whole wedding was hell. König was not only forced to meet new people, but he was also expected to keep his hands to himself. As the couple exchanged their first kiss as husband and wife, everyone around began to cheer.

He watches you stand, and takes the lead. You all cheer as the couple leaves the room. König leans over and whispers in your ear, “Maybe we can have a quicky before they start the reception?”

“No.” You whisper back quickly.

König rolls his eyes and just keeps clapping. Once the bride and groom leave, slowly the rows of people begin to file out of the door. With everyone clearly not minding the both of you, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back to him. Slowly his hand crept up to grasp your breasts. His fingers pinching your nipple before you swat his hand away.

He looks down at you before inching back up towards your breast, squeezing hard so you can’t move him so easily. You try to suppress your laugh by nudging him with your elbow.

“Stop!” You hiss playfully.

“Liebling, I can’t stop.” He chuckles under his breath, squeezing once more before letting go so you can exit the venue.

Walking outside, on your way to the reception König keeps his arm over your shoulder. His eyes watching your breasts bounce out the corner of his eye.

“You know, weddings are a celebration of love. I don’t see why I can’t just carry you into the bathroom and show you how much I love you.” His fingers dance in small circles just above your cleavage.

“Their love, not ours.”

“I still don’t see the issue.” His voice laced with desire as he looks around to make sure no one was looking. He slowly slips his hand into your dress and cups your breast in his hand again.

“König!”

He quickly withdraws his hand due to your tone. “Sorry…” a small smirk forms on his lips, he loves it when you get like this.

“You really can’t keep your hands to yourself for one second?” You stop talking and look up at him.

“Wha-…” König tries to hide his smirk. “I can.”

“You’re so annoying.” You huff as you turn to continue walking.

“And you’re so sexy.” He pulls you back to him. “Stop being grumpy. You never have an issue.”

“We are never at a formal occasion, König.”

He lets out a deep sigh before leaning down to kiss your lips. “Fine, I’m sorry for not listening. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Thank you…” You smile up at him, tapping your lips for another kiss.

Happily, he brings his lips back to meet yours. His muscular arms wrap around your body and grip you against his body. Feeling your breasts press against him.

“When we get home, I want you to suffocate me with your breasts.” He whispers in your ear.

“How about, I let you fuck them. Only if you’re a good boy.” You match his energy.

König’s eyes light up as they open wide, a goofy look of excitement crosses his face. “I’ll be the best boy for you.”

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #konig x you #x reader #cod smut #smut #könig x you #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x y/n

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v1nuswrites · 3 days

Text

Chapter Three: Party?

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Summary: https://www.tumblr.com/v1nuswrites/749849029310021632/all-my-unconditional-love-carina-x?source=share

Please read the summary before continuing with this fic ^^

Chris x female! OC

Chapters:

Part One, Part Two

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Carina didn’t know why her friends had decided on that particular dare, but Chris' actions soon made blindingly clear to them that it wasn't going to work, and eventually, they gave up. However, that didn't stop people around the school from talking.

All Carina could hear throughout the day was whispering about her and Chris holding hands, most of them ignoring the fact that straight after he tripped her up. She'd already heard so many ridiculous theories by the time lunch rolled around, she practically collapsed onto the groups lunch table, making her embarrassment and annoyance clear.

The group only glanced at each other, Nick smiling sweetly.

"Everything okay?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Peachy" Carina gritted out, deciding to let it go, the gossip wouldn't last long anyways.

"I just can't believe anyone would think I would go as low as to date Chris" She couldn't help but mutter. However, her direction of thoughts was quickly altered as she noticed just how close Luca and nick were to each other.

Cute.

Carina turned to Matt. She soon noticed he was looking over at Chris on the other side of the lunch hall. Recently, he had begun to sit next to Soren with the 'popular' group.

"I can't believe Chris doesn't sit with us anymore" Matt said sadly. It was clear that the group shared the same feelings, excluding Carina of course. Still, she felt sympathetic for them, especially Nick and Matt. They hadn't been in separate friendship groups well ... ever.

"Oh by the way guys, Olivia Is holding a party to celebrate the start of Senior year, were all invited so you guys better show up" Maya threatened, clearly trying to keep the group positive.

"Sounds good" Nick replied. He quickly glanced at Luca in a questioning manner, silently asking if he would be coming. Luca nodded in response.

"I'm in" Carina nodded. She actually enjoyed parties most of the time, and she definitely needed to loosen up after the stress and embarrassment of the past few days. Maybe she could even use this as an opportunity to stop those rumours once and for all.

They all sent a pleading look to Matt, knowing he would be the hardest to convince.

"Come on Matt, it's the first party of senior year, you have to be there!" Nick tried to convince him.

"Pleaseeee" Maya and Carina began to beg.

"Fine" Matt gave in smiling.

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Carina looked at herself in the mirror as she zipped up her emerald green midi dress.

Her mother was right, it really did compliment her auburn hair. She didn't know how long she looked at herself in the mirror, mostly out of surprise, but her trance was broken as she heard a honking outside her house. She quickly added some finishing touches to her make up and left the house.

"Great, she's coming"

Carina could already hear Chris' outrage and she had only just stepped out the door. She couldn't help but grin; making him annoyed was one of her favourite hobbies after all.

"Everything okay Chris?" She smiled sweetly, but he could immediately detect its teasing edge.

"Fuck off and turn around" Chris seethed from the passenger seat. Carina couldn't help but think he looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"Oh that wouldn't be much fun now would it?" She replied. Carina honestly didn't recognise herself around Chris, she never acted like this with anyone else, and from what she had seen, Chris didn't either.

"You better stay away from me tonight, I don't need more rumours spreading, its embarrassing enough as is" Chris said as she got into the car.

"Trust me, staying far away from you won't be a challenge" Carina retorted as she sat beside Maya.

"That's enough! You two can get really annoying when you argue. Seriously, I think I'm getting a headache" Matt warned as he continued to drive.

"The Mattitude tonight is crazy" Maya whispered next to Carina and whisper like laughs could be heard from the very back seats - Nick and Luca.

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By the time they arrived at the party, it was at its height. Music was blasting from the speakers around the house and Carina wondered how the police hadn't already been called for a noise complaint. As they entered the house, it was chaos. People were making out in corners, others were taking shots from precious looking vases and a group of guys were sliding down the large staircase using a surfboard.

How innovative, Carina thought dryly.

As Carina walked into the kitchen with her friends, she realised that the backdoors led straight onto the beach, where even more people were. Carina had been to her fair share of parties over the years, mainly thanks to Maya and her many friends, but this one was for sure the biggest she had been to.

She instantly turned to Matt, realising he was picking his fingernails. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Want a drink?" Carina shouted over the music, hoping it would calm his nerves.

"Please, nothing too strong though" He replied.

As Carina looked around her, she realised Chris was gone. It hit her that he had likely gone straight to Emily, and Carina felt anger well up within her at the idea, but she wasn't sure why.

Ever since they had started high school, Emily and Chris had been dating on and off for years, seemingly relishing in the drama of breaking up and getting back together again shortly afterward. Carina couldn't stand it. She knew all about Emily. She knew how rude she was to everyone but those who she deemed 'good enough'. Over the years, she had tried to tell Chris, but of course he didn't listen to her.

Trying to distract herself from getting angry, Carina poured a cup of whatever she could find on the counter for herself and Matt, handing it to him.

Suddenly, Olivia, the girl who Carina distantly remembered as the host of the party, practically popped up from behind Matts shoulder, nearly scaring Carina to death.

"Want one guys?" She asked as she held out a tray of jello shots. Her voice was bubbly and bright, the kind of voice which would normally make you feel welcome, but Carina could instantly detect the melancholic edge it held. She decided now likely wasn't the best time to ask, she didn't want to upset the girl even more.

Carina had already finished her first drink, so she shrugged and said "Why not?", grabbing one from the tray.

They were delicious.

Carina wasn't sure how many of those jello shots she had, all she knew was they tasted delicious and there were sooo many different flavours... She was listing them in her head; grape, cherry, strawberry ....

Suddenly, she bumped into a strong frame sitting on the floor. She vaguely recognised the figure as one of the football players on the same team as Soren and Chris.

"I'm so sorry!" Carina gasped as she finally realised she had hit him.

"No worries" He laughed, turning his head to her and away from the beautiful view of the ocean.

"Why are you out here all alone?" She asked as she sat down next to him. Normally, Carina wouldn't sit next to a stranger, but the alcohol circulating her system had other plans.

He just shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "No one to sit out here with me I guess"

Carina knew this couldn't be true, distantly remembering he was quite popular within their school.

"Carina" She said simply.

"Joel" He replied.

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They talked for what felt like hours, but Carina knew it could have only been forty-five minutes. Joel was surprisingly great, and easy to get along with. It also helped that they had a lot in common.

She was enjoying herself until she felt a harsh grab at her shoulder, practically dragging her away from Joel.

"Time to go" The voice said casually.

She could recognise that voice anywhere, Chris. Immediately, she tried pulling away from him, but his grip was surprisingly strong considering the fact he wasn't hurting her at all.

"I wasn't done!" Carina exclaimed, annoyed Chris was ruining things for her once again. She immediately turned to Joel who was getting further away by the second. His face was one of pure shock.

"Bummer" Chris said, clearly not caring.

"I thought we agreed to stay away from each other!" She seethed, looking at him. She continued to try and tug her arm away, to no avail.

"You agreed to stay away from me, I said nothing of the sort" He smirked, knowing he had her trapped.

This was why they never agreed on anything.

Well, apart from that one time...

She shook her head to rid herself of the thought and stayed silent as Chris led her out of the house and into the car where everyone was waiting, not letting her go or softening his grip for a second. Carina silently blamed her sudden compliance on the alcohol.

She and Maya were dropped at Carina's house, Maya staying the night for a sleepover. Not that it would be much of one considering the drunken state the girls were in.

When they finally got to her room, Maya stumbled into a medium sized pink box on the floor, a gorgeous velvet ribbon neatly sat atop it.

"What's this?" She giggled as she asked Carina.

"Oh those are the love letters I wrote for Soren years ago, before he rejected me" Carina told her. The whole group knew about her and Soren anyway, they had all helped her through it, so she didn't really see the point in lying.

Maya opened it, trying to read one of the letters but failing, her drunken state causing all the words to swirl and move around the page. Carelessly, she dropped the letter to the floor.

Or, at least, what she must've thought was the floor.

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A/N: This is a bit of a longer chapter! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far :) I'm certainly having a lot of fun writing it and putting my own spin on all kinds of cringey romantic moments! As always, thanks so much for your support <3

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