#(and garter belts??? it was some decoration hanging off her skirt what the fuck.)
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oh! my nephew stayed here last night, and he told me that his grandma's partner - the most annoying, conceited, boring man I have ever met - said he doesn't like it that I always contradict him :)
I've met this guy maybe... 5-10 times total? and every time he manages to say something even more stupid than the last! it's almost impressive! like, he thinks he knows everything. and no one ever says anything, they just let him talk because it's not worth it (I know that because almost every one of them has told me this).
but I get too pissed off when it's something I care about. and I'm an adult now, I can talk back to shitty adults, I don't give a fuck.
anyway, I just think it's absolutely hilarious that he feels that way and now I'll do it even more often :) it's very fun when I ask him what his sources are for what he's saying and he just stammers some bullshit and tries to say that's not the point (pretty sure it's 100% telegram and tik tok, because that's the kind of useless old guy he is).
#some fun recent examples include... my niece gave back my rainbow high doll. he saw it and commented that it's disgusting that dolls#sexualise little girls like that because of crop tops and high heels and makeup and garter belts. what the fuck man. no one is sexualising#anything except YOU#that's a fashion doll. meant to be like 15. wearing fun pretty clothes and colourful makeup. if you look at that and think oh that's#too sexy. then I'm sorry but that's YOUR problem#(and garter belts??? it was some decoration hanging off her skirt what the fuck.)#he didn't like it when I said that no one ever says toys for boys have to be good role models :)#got realllly pissy when I wouldn't stop :) like hello dude you know there's something you can do if you don't want anyone to respond to your#fucking bullshit right? it's called THINKING. just keep that shit in your head#I'll keep doing this until he no longer wants to say dumb shit when I'm around :) (so. forever probably. but he's old he'll die before me so#it'll be fine).#oh and one time he tried to convince us that regular people in the UK are better off since Brexit. hello? dude you don't speak a damn word#of English. you barely know how to order a drink or something. how the fuck would you know#it drives me insane. he couldn't be any more mediocre and stupid if he tried. yet he thinks he's the greatest person ever#can't fucking stand him#and men like him in general. (yes it is only ever men. women like my mother are similar but they're never this fucking sure of their shitty#opinions.)#(in fact they usually give up way too easily. in my experience at least.)
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enchanted [bokuto koutarou x reader]
pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem reader
genre: smut (18+)
warning(s): explicit sexual content, nylon/lingerie fetish, thigh riding, penetrative sex, car sex, slight praise kink, creampie, brief mentions of drug usage, implied alcohol consumption, bo calls reader “bunny”
word count: 2.6k
overview: bokuto just can’t keep his hands to himself, and why should he when his precious girlfriend looks so hot in her costume?
notes: I definitely drew a hint of inspiration from geralt and yennefer for these matching costumes lol I mean they’re hotties so why not?? also, hope everyone has a safe and happy halloween this year :)
Inside the large house packed to the brim with partygoers, you’re only aware of the throbbing bass knocking the air out of your lungs, the heat creating a thin veil of sweat on your skin, and your boyfriend’s large hands on your waist. His fingers tighten against the black, lacy lingerie serving as the top of your costume for the evening before sliding down the slits of your long, silky skirt and tracing along the decorative edging of the thigh-highs held up by a garter belt hiding beneath the material covering your lower half. The sensation of his warm breath against the hot skin on your neck as he leans over your shoulder sends pleasant tingles down your spine, and you tilt your head toward him to press another kiss against his lips that has him humming affectionately.
Saying that the two of you hadn’t been able to keep your hands off each other since reuniting at the notorious Halloween party the men’s volleyball team threw each year would be a sore understatement. Though you and Bokuto hadn’t arrived together in the spirit of keeping your appearances a surprise, everyone in the entire house now knew that the two of you were an item if they hadn’t before. Aside from the time you’d spent meandering around to speak with a few of his other teammates, your attention had been largely focused on your him—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
With the way he looks in the dark trousers that strain around his muscular thighs and the white button-up shirt that’s all but buttoned up, you can hardly resist him. And it’s clear that he feels the same way about you given how he’s spent the entire evening with his hands on you, fingers wandering up and down the semi-sheer material of your delicate hosiery and the lace adorning the lingerie you wear beneath the cover of your dark cloak.
The dragon pendant of your necklace thumps against your sternum as you dance to the music pulsing throughout the house’s interior decorated with orange and purple lights, ghost and skeleton streamers, and other, random Halloween-related paraphernalia. His grip moves your hips against his in cadence with the beat, and your bodies are melded together so seamlessly that it’s almost as if you can feel every part of him against you. A gentle tug at one of your sides prompts you to turn around so you’re facing him, and, in spite of the chaos surrounding you, he’s the only person you see.
His golden eyes are clouded with a noticeable and recognizable haze as they gaze into yours before departing to roam over your figure. The way you look under the flashing lights, swaying to the music in a rather suggestive manner has him feeling enchanted. As if you’ve fully embodied the sorceress persona of your costume and cast a spell on him that made it impossible for him to keep his attention off of you.
You continue moving to the music as you wrap your arms around his neck, (e/c) eyes watching the way the matching necklace he’s wearing rises and falls against his exposed, heaving chest. Gripping the cloak draped loosely around his shoulders to coordinate with yours, you pull him closer to you, undeterred by the stagnant heat of all the bodies in the room. Clearly, he’s not the only one who’s spellbound by his significant other.
“Kou,” you mention in as low a voice as you possibly can, given the bass that swallows every sound in the room aside from the buzz of chatter and bouts of raucous laughter.
Breath tinged slightly of beer fans over your face as he replies, in a husky voice that has you struggling to keep your thighs apart, “What’s up, bunny?”
Your heart warms at the pet name that leaves his mouth seemingly out of pure instinct, and you allow him to pull your body flush against his as you move your face closer to his ear. “Can we get outta here for a bit?” you request sweetly before adding, “I want you. Badly.”
“Fuck, you don’t even need to ask, pretty girl,” he groans, hands sliding down to your rear to give it a firm squeeze. You know he’s been waiting all night for this, and it shows in his eagerness to take your hand in his so he can guide you through the throngs of costumed partygoers hanging around each area of the property. Too impatient to go upstairs and search for a free room—since he lives in an apartment with you rather than in the house with some of his other teammates—he, instead, leads you out the front door, past a group of vampires passing around a blunt and a very disgruntled Sakusa donning the mask he’d incorporated into his costume, and out to his car parked around the side of the property.
Holding open the back door for you, he ushers you inside quickly to keep you from being exposed to the chill in the brisk, nighttime air for too long before sauntering around to the other side. The instant both the doors are shut and locked, Bokuto’s pulling you onto his lap and pressing hot, passionate kisses against your lips. The tension building in your core has you unintentionally rutting against his thigh and moaning into his mouth as his tongue slides along yours while his hands knead the supple skin on your ass.
“Wanna ride my thigh, bunny?” he breathes. The way his normally bright and cheery eyes are narrowed at you and filled with lust has heat rushing between your legs in an instant, and you nod enthusiastically. “Take off my pants and make yourself feel good, then, baby.”
Your hands move to his belt, unbuckling it so you can undo the fly of his trousers and push them down. His large palms come to rest atop yours, and he lifts his hips so he can help you slide the fabric below his knees, giving you ample space to work with. The cloak over your shoulders is quickly shed, and his fingers are moving to the waistband of your skirt to relieve you of any fabric separating your now dripping pussy from the bare skin on his thigh. When he notices you reach to undo the lingerie bodysuit you’re wearing, he halts your efforts by grabbing your wrists.
“Leave it on.” The pace of your heart skips a beat as his hand slides between your legs to trail along the thin layer of wet fabric preserving your modesty. A small whine of desperation leaves your mouth that transforms into a squeak of surprise when he pushes the material aside, putting your glistening folds on display. “You look so pretty like this—all worked up over the thought of my cock,” he muses, nestling his face in your neck to pepper your heated skin with kisses, “You’re so sweet, bunny.”
A loud moan escapes your lips at the feeling of your sensitive clit meeting the firm skin on his thigh when he pushes your hips down toward it. Placing your hands on the upholstered surface of the backseat to steady yourself, you begin grinding against his leg, drawing more cries and mewls of satisfaction from your own mouth. Bokuto loves the way you look when you’re getting off, and he loves seeing you riding his thigh while wearing the prettiest lingerie you own. With a small hum of satisfaction, he allows his hands the freedom to roam across the soft material of your nylons before sliding them up to your breasts.
The sensation of his fingers tugging down the sweetheart neckline of your top so he can roll your hardened nipples between them has you moaning out his name rather loudly. Out of your own desperation to please him as well, you reach for the noticeable bulge in his boxer briefs, palming his erection as you continue rutting against his thigh, coating his skin in your essence. Before you can slip off the fabric around his lower half, though, he’s hooking a finger in the necklace hanging in front of your chest and pulling you closer to him so he can take one of your nipples in his mouth instead.
“Kou!” you cry wantonly, feeling the heat in your core building at his actions in combination with the delicious friction against your clit with each drag of your hips along his leg, “Feels so good!”
“You love getting yourself off on my thigh, don’tcha, pretty baby?” The low yet gentle tone in his voice sends more waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can barely stay focused enough on anything aside from chasing your own orgasm to nod in response to his question. “Gonna cum soon?”
A “Yes,” escapes your mouth in a gentle whimper, but you add, “Want you inside me, baby; please. Wanna feel your big cock inside of me.”
“Yeah?” he growls, jaw instinctively clenching when your hands return to the waistband of his underwear to slide it past his hips. Giving him another nod, you move your face closer to his so you can press more passionate kisses against his lips in the hopes of making the desire you’re sure he already feels burn brighter. Sure enough, the sensation of your delicate, careful fingers wrapping around the shaft of his thick cock as you continue grinding against his thigh and dragging your tongue along his soft lips causes his grip to tighten around your waist.
Another one of your squeals bounces around the hot air inside the car when he lifts your hips from his thigh so he can position your entrance above his dick and slowly plunge inside of your familiar and welcoming warmth. You murmur softly, eyes screwing shut at the bittersweet sensation of his size stretching your walls to their limits as he pushes deeper and deeper into your core. His thumb traces your hipbone in slow circles to help you relax, since he can feel the tight squeeze of your pussy clenching around him—nearly forcing him out with each contraction.
“There you go, bunny,” he soothes, golden eyes trained on the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, “Mm, good girl! You always take me so well.”
Your walls flutter around him at the praise, eliciting a gentle groan from his throat. “Kou…” you utter quietly, your voice no louder than a breathless whisper as he bottoms out, “You feel so good, baby.”
The kisses he plants along your jaw are sweet and tender to match the slow pace you set when you begin riding him. Small grunts of pleasure fall off his lips and onto your skin each time your hips sink back down towards his, fully sheathing him inside of you once more. A small whimper bubbles in your mouth with each small thrust of his upwards, pushing himself just that tiny bit deeper inside of you and nudging your cervix. Your legs are quaking with both fatigue, pleasure, and yearning as you use then to move his dick in and out of you.
“A little faster, baby; c’mon,” he encourages, gripping the nylon wrapped around your thighs for a moment before placing his hands on your hips so he can help you set a quicker pace. Soon, the pleasure of his cockhead hitting your sensitive spot fills you with more desire, and you find yourself falling into the rhythm he sets, riding him faster and harder than you’d been before. “That’s it! You’re making me feel so fucking good.”
As you find yourself nearing your orgasm once more, your head rolls back and you release more feverish pants and mewls of delight. The sensations of your boyfriend plunging deep inside of you are wonderful, but you can’t seem to push yourself over the edge. Bokuto knows how close you are with the way your pussy squeezes him so desperately, and his own craving to ravish you floods his body in what feels like an instant to you.
Before you know it, you’re being pushed sideways onto the backseat, splaying your body out across it. Your legs instinctively fall apart to accommodate his broad torso between them, and your core stretches once more when he enters you again. The little space available in the back of the car has your hot bodies in close quarters, causing the windows to fog up even more—until they’re nearly opaque. Now, he’s thrusting into you harder and faster than you could’ve hoped to fuck yourself while riding him, and he feels so damn good.
“Fuck, Kou!” you moan, “Right there! I’m—ahh—I’m gonna cum. Please!”
The entire car shakes with the force he’s using to slam into you, hellbent on helping you reach your high. His skin slaps against yours and more praises rain down on you from his mouth, shaking with the intensity of his thrusts and effort. “You can do it; c’mon! Cum for me, bunny. Wanna see that cute, little face you make.”
Your mouth falls open moments later and your hands move to his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly between your fingers as a powerful orgasm washes over you. His name is the only word you can utter over and over again in a breathless chant while your body shudders and your pussy spasms around him. Seeing his precious girlfriend in such a state of disarray and ecstasy, pulling him close to her and crying out for him as she cums around his cock awakens an animalistic desire within Bokuto that has him driving into you at breakneck speed until he sees stars and feels the knot in his own stomach come undone.
Cursing loudly and moaning unabashedly, he releases inside of you in such a large load that his seed seeps out of your core before he’s even finished riding out his high. He could care less about the seats or your lingerie getting dirty, though, with how divine you feel and sound. His heavy pants fan across your skin once his pace slows, and there’s a few beats of silence before he opens his eyes and looks down at you once more. Chest rising and falling in deep breaths, (e/c) eyes slowly fluttering open and struggling to focus on him in your euphoric haze, droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and tender skin, he can only think about how beautiful you are—and will always be—to him.
“Fuck, (f/n),” he sighs, another one of those bright smiles of his spreading across his lips as he admires you, “I can’t believe I’m the one that gets to take you home with me.”
You giggle softly against his lips when he leans down towards you to bestow a few, affectionate kisses against yours. “Likewise,” you respond once he allows you a break for air, running your fingers along the strong muscles in his back.
He groans softly and lifts your back off the seat so he can sit up and pull you into his lap before wrapping his arms around you. “I don’t even wanna go back inside,” he comments as he places his head on your shoulder, “I just wanna go back home with you.”
“Aww, is the party animal all tuckered out now?” you tease and mindlessly card your fingers through his spiked, salt and pepper colored hair.
His grip around you tightens in response before he answers, “Nope, not at all.” The sensation of his lips dancing along your neck has you humming expectantly and closing your eyes as you lean into him. “Because once we get home—before we settle down, eat some candy, and watch a movie together—I’m gonna make you cum more times than you can count, bunny.”
treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist
taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)
general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus
bokuto: @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata, @cuddlysoftbear
#haikyuu x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto x reader#bokuto smut#haikyuu smut#ahkaahshi gets wild#ahkaahshi's mini kinktober 2020#x reader#reader insert#haikyuu fanfiction#tw alcohol#tw drugs#fran writes hq!!
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New Years ‘71 (George MacKay Smut)
@iongaa‘s incredible work is unmatched.
requested: yes/no (this is loosely based on this, I'm so sorry it has barely anything to do with it)
pairing: '70s!George MacKay x reader
warnings: filth, absolute filth, also incredible inaccuracy
word count: 4,534
a/n: remember when I said my Queen fandom days haunt me?
You brushed a few of your stray hairs off your forehead as you looked at your bassist tangled up with some random blonde on his dressing room couch. A smog of cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air, clouding some of the mirror lights. His shrouds of colorful patterns and beads were thrown about in a mess, hanging like rags from a few of the lamps and completely burying one of the massive armchairs. You shook your head at the state of the room, panic flashing into your chest at the realization that he could cost you the gig. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor until they were muted by the ornately decorated area rug as you crossed the room and tugged at his shoulder. He only moved to lay flat on his back, hiding his eyes in the crook of his slender elbow. You sighed, moving to the girl and shuffling her out of the room. Despite being slightly bewildered with makeup smudged beyond recognition, she was easier to stir. You shook the man before you again. Receiving no reaction you rolled your eyes, pinching his nose shut and covering his mouth.
He attempted to inhale but flung his arms into the air, slapping you out of the way. His dark curly hair bounced around his shoulders as he looked up at you, eyes wild and furious. "You psychopath! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He snapped after realizing it was you. He pushed himself to sit up, tugging one of the decorative blankets around his waist as he stood, his thin body slinking past you as he moved to get to the vanity across the room.
You crossed your arms over your chest and grinned at him through the reflection of the mirrors. Under the yellow glow of the small lights, he almost looked younger---innocent even---like he hadn't made a deal with the drummer that he would triple his body count by the end of the semester. He yawned and stretched his arms as you began to speak. "Happy New Years to you too," you grumbled, leaning against the counter to get a better look at the way he was applying his eyeliner.
"Happy '71. I hope they start drafting women," he jested, smirking at his own joke.
"Then I'll make sure to grass on you when I get there, dodger," you mocked with a raise of your eyebrows. His piercing eyes shot daggers into you, making you giggle and bump his chair as he smudged his lines before you faced the mirror once again. "We're up in ten so get a move on," you prompted, straightening your long, velvet skirt and heading out the door.
"Go suck Nixon's dick," he called after you as the door clicked shut, making you chuckle as you brushed your hand along the wood paneling on the walls in the back of the bar. You found the rest of your band huddled around an empty drum box playing cards and smoking cigarettes. Bar gigs somehow made you more nervous than when you played for masses at festivals, it was something about how intimate the shows seemed to be, or maybe it was the lighting. Either way, the crowd seemed to be at your ankles and ready to nitpick the lot of you. As it grew closer to the beginning of your set, your bassist finally joined you, plucking his instrument from the pile and running his long fingers against the strings a few times. Your guitarist stretched his legs dramatically, his floral shirt hanging open to show off the ridiculous belt buckle crowding the top of his jeans. Your drummer spun one of his sticks in his hand, tapping out a beat with his foot as if he was practicing keeping time.
The static of the microphone pulled your attention from the men and the room behind the curtain grew quieter, your heart beginning to pick up in anticipation as the owner announced your group. You twisted the rings on your fingers as you collected your nerves and plastered on a smile before taking the stage. Looking over the cheering room---a good portion were women swamping from their husbands or sorority girls hitchhiking from one of the local colleges to see your bandmates---you could practically smell the sickening-sweet stench of over-applied cheap perfume mixing with cut-rate beer. You wet your lips as you took hold of the microphone. "Happy New Year, everyone. I hope you're all getting lucky tonight," you joked, receiving several hollers from the crowd before the bass line of the first song began to pick up. Your eyes darted up from your feet---where you were previously attempting to look like you were counting but in reality, you had yet to warm up to the crowd---only to zero in on a man towards the back of the room, bobbing his head slightly to the riffs being added.
You grinned to yourself mildly as you began to sing along, your sights focused on him in an attempt to memorize his features. You were sure at that moment he was the most attractive man you had seen in your life. His red hair was muted under the dim lights, but his clear eyes were bright in comparison to his dark jacket. His broad frame fit nicely in his clothes. His gaze traveled your body, seemingly stopping at the slit in your skirt running up your leg and the garter peeking out from the gap in the fabric. You fought against the smug expression threatening to break across your face as you realized just how much he was surveying you. He cut through his studious expression by tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. You swayed to the next song faintly, determined to dedicate tonight to this mystery man.
As your set dragged on, you ended up kicking your ridiculous shoes off and leaning momentarily against your guitarist during a particularly seductive song, your eyes never leaving the man's. He peered at you over the top of his glass, an eyebrow raising in your direction as the crowd circled closer to the stage to grasp at the flared pant legs of the bassist. You began to feel the heat from the lights above you as sweat began to pool against your temple. You already knew your makeup would have been ruined, but that didn't seem to bother your spectator. If anything, as you began to loosen up on stage, it drew out more of his attraction.
Finally wrapping up the show, you stepped off the small stage and accepted the small towel handed to you by one of the roadies particularly attached to your drummer. You made your way through the gushing crowd of people flowing to see the guys towards the back alleyway. The cool night air hit you like a truck as you shoved open the heavy door, sighing in relief. The streetlamps were a beacon of hope to the bypassers attempting to get home at such a late hour, their halos of light giving the landscape a glow that only Giacomo Balla could do justice in recreating. You slumped against one of the brick walls, looking up at the sky threatening to crack with lightning.
The door opened again revealing the man from before, your eyes widening moderately. He chuckled a bit, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and stepping into the downpour of light coming from the bulb above the door. He placed the cigarette between his next to perfect lips and you had never been more jealous of an object. He became a silhouette as he turned towards the street. You watched him carefully as he dug around in his jacket pockets, you stepped towards him almost numbly, offering your lighter to him. He smirked, bringing his large hands up to cup your hand softly, shielding the flame from the gentle breeze. His touch sent flames licking against the inside of your throat. As the end of his cigarette burned like a fresh ember, he swiveled back into the light, taking a long drag. His features became clearer to you as the shadows sculpted his cheeks and highlighted his eyes. Your brain finally clicked into place, realizing now that he had been to a few of your shows in the past.
"You following me or something?" You jeered, settling your hands on the brick behind you as you leaned on them. Catching a full glimpse of just how tall he was alongside his broad shoulders made your cheeks flush. Despite the layers of his dark sweater and jacket over his collared shirt, you could tell he worked out.
He smiled mildly, the smoke drifting from between his pearly teeth as he sent you a small shrug. "What can I say? I'm a big fan," he answered cooly, his accent deep and alluring as his shoulder came in contact with the wall you were leaning against. He held the cigarette out for you, his fingers capturing your attention as you took the stick from him and inhaled. Your cloud of smoke hazed around the two of you as your eyes fixated on his, picking up on each of the brilliant colors mixing together to create something artists would weep over. You wanted to run your fingers through his soft hair and drag your nails down his chest. "I like watching you."
You handed him back the cigarette, your gaze darting to his lips once again, mouth watering with need. You wanted to taste him more than a man wanting water in a desert. "You're something of a spectacle yourself," you responded, lucky he couldn't see your features reddening with heat flowing through your veins.
He smirked, his jaw clenching faintly in the light making you feel as if you were going deaf as you focused in on his accent. There was something calculated about him that you were ridiculously drawn too. "I'm George," he offered.
"I think I prefer 'stalker'," you gibed, flashing him a coy expression.
His eyes blazed with minute cockiness. "I can be whatever you want, sweetheart," he quipped gruffly, making your body heat travel to your core. He moved to stand in front of you, finishing off the cigarette and grinding down the butt beneath the toe of his boot.
"How obedient," you cantered, wanting so badly to take the half a step towards him. To breathe the same air as the man would be a privilege. You yearned for him to reach out and tug away your flowy white blouse and ruin your life. You wanted to be at his mercy despite your confident personality suggesting otherwise. Submission was never something you had foreseen in your plans, but here you were willing to get on your knees in this filthy alleyway if he said the word.
He bit back a smirk, eyes angling downwards to your legs. "Why do you wear a garter?" He questioned, making your skin inkle for him to rip it off of you with his teeth.
"For fun," you responded coyly. You lifted your leg, the slit in your skirt exposing your skin completely to him now. "Do you like it?" You probed. He chuckled softly, stepping against the angle of your body and resting your thigh against his hip. One of his hands settled against the brick beside your head while the other toyed with the soft strip of fabric. The scent of agarwood and sage invaded your senses as his body came in contact with yours. He smelled like a forest you wanted to get lost in exploring. His soft sweater was heavy against your skin as his fingertips graced along your thigh. "You live around here?"
His eyes perked back up to yours almost suggestively. He was close enough now that you could pinpoint the few stray eyebrow hairs framing his gaze. You could almost taste the color of his lips as he sighed. "Yeah, I'm at the uni down the road," he answered simply, his hand reaching out to brush a lock of your hair off your shoulder.
You scoffed at his statement. "You're at the college down the- you mean Harvard?"
He chuckled deeply, his forehead furrowing at your tone. You moved one of your hands to barely rest against his chest as he stepped towards you again, propping a knee between your thighs, making your breath hitch as your leg lowered. You almost felt like you weren't given permission to fully touch him yet, a rule you were following under his watchful gaze. "What's wrong?"
His hand moved to your hip, threatening to spill down against your exposed skin again. "Nothing. I have a Harvard man between my legs," you clarified unevenly, no longer in control of your actions or words. He had turned your brain to mush just by looking at you.
His smug expression tilted at you before he leaned towards you, hovering over your ear. You willed against your impulse to breathe him in and claw your fingers into his skin. "Should I be somewhere else, darling?"
"Inside of me," you nearly whispered, more begging than jesting. His mouth brushed over your throat rather quickly before his lips crashed against yours finally, hungry and needy as you finally allowed yourself to touch him. You dug your fingers into his hair as he reached down to grip your ass, pulling your hips roughly against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the sensation of him closing more distance between the two of you made you want him more. The performance high seemed to return as your confidence flourished. You tugged at his jeans, ready to commit yourself to whatever he wanted.
He pulled away from you, your lips burning without his connection. He swiftly bunched your skirt up at your waist as you quickly unbuttoned his pants. You needed him and you needed him now. He wrapped his hand around the back of your knee, hoisting your leg up against his side once again before driving himself into you. You groaned as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him as he retracted from you only to press himself deeper into you. He let out a deep moan, his lips finding yours once again as he began to grind against you, snapping his hips against yours to draw out your pleasure. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth and curled your hips at his movements. Each of his sounds were the equivalent of a reward for you, you wanted to earn his approval and get him off almost more than you wanted yourself to. You were thankful for how much he towered over you as you wrapped yourself beneath one of his arms to grip onto his shoulder, pulling yourself up against him. He thrusted into you, angling himself so he hit a deeper spot within you at each of his movements.
He breathlessly broke your kiss only to rest his forehead against yours, looking for a reaction from you before leaning away and tilting his head back in pleasure. Seeing his blissed-out, slack-jawed expression alongside his now rapid movements, made stars flash behind your eyes as the urge to cum built within you. He pressed his lips against your flushed cheek as one of his hands returned to the brick wall behind you, his lips traveling to the crook of your neck as he moved in an upward motion. His newfound momentum sent you clenching around him as you chased your own high, wrapping your leg around his waist. Another moan ripped through your body. "God, I love your voice," he almost growled in your ear, sending you over the edge unintentionally. He continued to ride against you, drawing himself to finish as you drew him back to kiss him again in a tangle of lust and bliss. After his release, he rested his forehead against his shoulder as the two of you fought to catch your breath. You almost didn't want him to pull out, it was like he belonged with you.
He detached from you, the two of you straightening your clothes. Your fingers reached up to touch your sore lips still buzzing from the feeling of his rough touch. You felt colder now as the mix of your and George's fluids ran down your thighs. You wanted more of him. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked down at your flushed stated. You were scared to leave the wall, your knees weak from the stimulation. He took hold of your forearm, pulling you against his chest and kissing you again, this time softer as if he was apologizing for the crudeness of his prior activities. You had the right mind to thank him instead. "Do you wanna come home with me?" He asked between pressing his lips against yours and trailing down your neck.
Excitement flourished in your chest. "Yes," you breathed and he took your hand, pulling you through the heavy steel door and back into the bar. The crowd of people had almost doubled since you had been gone. The smell of booze and sex filled the air as you stayed close to George, ready to be fit against him once again. Your bassist's eyes met yours as you traveled towards the front door and he sent you a questioning look. You waved him on and he winked smugly. George quickly got the two of you a cab, the ride to his apartment seemingly lasting forever. Your hand rested on his leg, with every jump of the taxi at a speed bump, your hand climbing further up his thigh. His arm wrapped around the back of your portion of the seat as the radio blared with a skillful guitar solo from The Guess Who. Your hand dipped to his inner thigh, squeezing slightly and he smirked at your actions, placing a kiss to your temple as his fingers brushed against your neck.
George's apartment was nearly on the first floor with massive windows in his living room overlooking the city. His shelves of records and books brought questions into your mind. Part of you hoped this wasn't just going to be a one night stand so you had the opportunity to ask him about his music taste or if he had differing political views than you did. As you stood in the middle of his living room observing his life through a clouded lens, he came from whatever he was doing, wrapping an arm around your waist to see what you were focused on. "Do you only read books that ruffle the Catholic Church's feathers?" You joked, eyeing a few well-loved classics sandwiched between various books on law and whatnot.
He chuckled, pressing his lips against your shoulder again before sweeping your hair to the side. "Keeps me sane," he joked, his arms further wrapping around you as he kissed behind your ear. You turned in his arms, running your hands up his torso and relishing in the softness of his sweater.
"Show me your room?" You almost begged in a hushed tone. Before you knew it, he was pressing you against his bedroom door, his lips melding against yours as you tugged off his sweater and began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Your blouse was quickly discarded with his final upper layer, his sculpted body finally under your touch. His hands traveled the length of your body, stopping at the zipper in the back of your skirt and shimmying you out of the garment, the material pooling at your feet as his kiss grew sloppier. Your need for him grew with each touch of his lips against your body. He led you further into his room, his contact with you never faltering as his practiced fingers skillfully unclasped your bra. You fell into his soft sheets, George standing between your knees, debating his next move before climbing back over you. He held your hands above your head as his teeth ran along your skin, his lips sucking and biting at your neck and collarbones, eliciting moans to fall from your mouth like a stream of curses. He leaned off of you, reaching into the small bucket on his bedside table and slipping a piece of ice into his mouth.
Your eyebrows perked up as his actions before he held the cube between his teeth, running it down your chest excruciatingly paced. The feeling of the cold wetness against your skin chased by the warmth of his breath sent goosebumps spreading across your skin. Your eyes almost rolled as he moved down your body, your breath hitching as he outlined the waistband of your lacy underwear. The ice slipped down against your underwear next, George's eyes locking on ours as he ran the coldness over your clothed core. Your head was reeling at the foreign pleasure, your nerves seemingly even more sensitive to his focus. He swirled the ice against the inside of your thighs and you bit back a moan. You could see the smugness in his gaze as you were nearly unraveling before his very eyes without even really touching you. He traveled back up your body, the ice cube nearly melted before he slipped it into your mouth, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
"Hold that for me, darling," he cooed venomously, almost making your teeth crunch down on the cube. He slid your garter down your leg and over his wrist for the time being. He positioned himself back below your waistband, dragging your underwear down your legs by his perfect teeth, making sure you were watching each of his actions. The ice may have been keeping your tongue busy, but as George dipped between your thighs, his went to work on your sensitive heat. Your fingers ran into his hair as his lips sucked at your bundle of nerves, his tongue grazing ever so faintly against your center. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling you further against his mouth as you ground your hips against his tongue. He hummed slightly, the vibration of his voice echoing through your body, straight to your building climax, the second of the night at his hands. He began to swirl his tongue against you in a different direction, a new sensation adding to the mix of pleasure you were almost being blinded with. The concentration---evident in the furrowing of his brow---made you impossibly want him more. He was fixated at edging you toward your orgasm. His finger traced against where you needed friction the most, your body almost begging for him to slip inside of you as he played at the possibility of it.
Finally, he pushed a finger inside of you, making your back arch off the bed, your teeth clamping down on the reminisce of the ice cube and breaking it into pieces. You groaned as he began to pump it in and out of you, his tongue still delicately dancing around your core. His name slipped from your mouth as he added another finger, picking up his pace and curling them inside of you. He was beckoning your release as you began to feel tension building within you. His other arm moved to lay across your hips, holding you in place so you could no longer move against him, his eyes almost jesting up at you as you gripped onto the sheets beside you. "Stop resisting," he almost commanded, removing his mouth from you and increasing his speed, a prideful look in his eye at seeing how close you were once again. Heeding his demand, you released, your knees nearly clamping around him. You inhaled deeply, bliss washing over you once again as you watched him lick his fingers clean. His teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your abdomen before he leaned over you again, his lips crashing against yours. You moved his hand to grasp as your breast as you pulled his hips against yours, the feeling of his jeans creating new friction. You were spent but hell if you were going to tell him that.
In one swift movement, he had you on your back, pulling your hair back and tying it with the garter that was positioned around his wrist. You grinned slightly as his lips drew a road map from your shoulder to your spine, his rough hands massaging your shoulders before dragging you hips towards him again. You leaned on your side to watch him sit back on his knees to unbutton his jeans. "Be gentle," you leered, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your grin again as you watched him spit into his hand and stroke himself in preparation.
He chuckled. "I'll take care of you, love," he murmured softly through a smirk. You quipped an eyebrow at him in anticipation before he lifted your hips to him, turning you on your stomach again. He traced his cock against your entrance and you almost snapped back so he'd finally fill you again. Your mind wondered if your body even had another orgasm in it tonight. If it did, George would be the one to coax it out of you. He leaned his weight on his leg, resting a kiss on your back before pressing into you again, the feeling of him inside of you again came almost as a relief as you sighed in pleasure. You pushed your ass against him to get a deeper angle for him as he drove himself into you more.
You moaned as he began to pace himself, his lips near your ear as one of his hands held onto your side. You had never been in such a submissive position before, but as George picked up speed, you were more focused on the feeling of him rather than the visual of him. Hearing his voice purr in your ear sent off memories of being pinned against the brick wall, making you clench around him. He groaned as you moved beneath him. He gripped onto the side of the mattress you were also clinging to for dear life as each of his dirty thrusts sent sparks to your imagination. You felt him tense inside of you as he began to rapidly push into you, making your head go fuzzy as you bit your lip, only wanting to hear his moans fill the room. You let out a small whimper as you reached another orgasm, this one seemingly more intense from the overstimulation. George finished just after you, pulling your hips up further to ride out both your highs as his pace slowed reluctantly. Bliss coursed through your veins as you realized just how tired you were.
George's breath fanned over your back as he disconnected from you. You settled against one of his pillows, fighting an idiotic grin wanting to spread across your face. He tucked an arm beneath your head, pulling you against his side and lacing your fingers together. "I hope I'm sore tomorrow," you slyly joked, making him snicker beside you.
"If you are, I have ice," he quipped back, breaking the two of you into a fit of giggles. You could get used to this...
#george mackay x reader#george mackay#george mackay imagines#george mackay smut#george mackay oneshot#1917 imagines#1917 imagine#1917 smut#1917
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