#*grips head* I will NOT sexualize the sweet old man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gutsby · 3 months

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Finders Keepers

Pairing: bfd!Joel x Reader

Summary: Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old pink shirt of his lying around, you really can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Warnings: 18+. No plot, just porn! Age gap, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, choking, and a healthy dose of Daddy!Joel. Yes, I need to be locked away in a cage for how feral this man makes me.

A heatstroke would be a kindness in these conditions.

Seeing your best friend’s father frolicking around on the beach with his broad, bare chest on display, skin coated with sweat, and his swim trunks worn so tight you could practically taste the outline of his bulge with every step? That had been your own personal hell for the past hour.

Naturally, you’d had to fake a dehydrated spell and slip off to your villa for some much-needed sexual relief.

“Damn you, Mr. Miller,” you cursed, crawling across the bed with your fingers about to snake between your legs, “Why won’t you just pin me down and fuck me stupid?”

You knew the answer as well as anyone else that this man was totally off-limits—being your best friend’s dad and twice your age and all—but that wouldn’t stop you from touching yourself to the thought just the same.

The bottom half of your bikini was brushed crudely to the side as your fingers worked a furious circuit around your clit. Your hips bucked, head throbbed, insides churned with a fire you couldn’t even begin to describe, and all you could picture was Joel Miller lying there, eyes trained on you as he slotted himself between your legs and fucked you hard enough to break the bed in two.

You slipped your hand beneath a pillow, gripped the sheets under there in a fist, and closed your eyes. Then you yanked the fabric between your fingers and felt somewhat confused—and surprised.

When you looked to your left and lifted the pillow, you saw an odd pink fabric in your hand. You let it go and saw that it was a t-shirt. A big one.

No fucking way.

You would recognize that soft, heady, sandalwood scent anywhere.

It was Mr. Miller’s shirt.

You buried your nose in the material and inhaled as much of that sweet, delectable DILF as you could manage. Wanting him in you, on you, surrounding you completely with his scent so you could pretend he was there in that king-sized bed with you.

Before you could think, you threw the shirt on and grabbed the nearest pillow.

Fuck, you felt crazy. But by God, you were free.

You straddled the cushion between your thighs and rubbed your barely-clad cunt over the seam, whimpering to no one and nothing in particular. You closed your eyes and dragged your hips along that spot, humping it again and again, imagining it was Mr. Miller’s fat, throbbing member instead of a pillow and felt a rush.

“Oh, Joel— oh daddy, fuck me, please.”

You threw your head back and felt every bit the loud and obnoxious porn star as you rode to your heart’s content.

Your hand clamped down on the headboard and anchored your body in place, allowing you to grind your hips even harder. The sensation was crazy—nowhere near as insane as Mr. Miller’s own cock, you reckoned, but good enough—and the longer you rutted your lower half against that pillow, the closer you got to climax.

“I’m so fucking close, want you to cum all inside me.”

With one more protracted, lewd moan, you squeezed your legs together and were about to reach your release, when a sound at the far end of the room almost sent you, your pink t-shirt, and pillow flying off the bed in a panic.

Glass shattered on the ground. You tried desperately to throw the covers over your body and hide yourself.

To your horror, you saw a wide-eyed, petrified Joel Miller standing at the threshold of the room—holding a bottle of ibuprofen and, just seconds before, a cup of water.

The red-faced father of two turned as though he were about to leave, then, reconsidering why he had come up there in the first place, decided to try and play it cool.

“I…brought you some Advil,” he announced, awkward as a cow on roller skates.

You sat up and forced a smile. Tried to pretend like you weren’t just balls deep in a fantasy of him bending you over a table and railing you raw and senseless.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you languished in the world’s longest, and most uncomfortable beat of silence, before Joel’s gaze presently fell to your chest. He couldn’t help himself.

“Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down. You could try and lie, maybe save face in one desperate, last-ditch effort.

“Yeah. It just, uh…smelled,” you said instead.

What the fuck was wrong with you?! Surely the Mai Tais hadn’t been that strong to make you act so fucking dumb. But then again, this was your lizard brain talking, and there was no telling how weird you could get around a man as handsome as Mr. Miller. It was humiliating.

To your surprise, your friend’s father just raised his brows and smiled. A bit strained and uncertain, to be sure, but at least he hadn’t fled the room. You watched as his eyes trailed down the length of your body and stopped somewhere around the hem of his shirt, where the fabric gave way to your soft, bare legs. You couldn’t work out if he was intrigued or simply amused. Derisive, even.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for much longer, because Joel tossed the pill bottle to the side and made his way over to the bed.

Out of shock—and utter disbelief—you leapt back on the mattress and tried to make distance, but damn if Mr. Miller didn’t have some speed in those old bones. He easily snagged your ankle in one hand and dragged your body back to his. In the process, his oversized tee rolled up over your tummy and exposed your lower half to him, leaving you at an angle you never thought he’d see.

“So I smell?” he murmured, braving a hand up your thigh.

You actually wanted to die. In a good way.

You quickly recollected yourself and shook your head.

“No! No. Not at all, Mr. Miller, I just…I liked it a lot, actually,” you stammered, tensing when his fingers started to trace the skin of your thigh a little higher.

“How much?” Joel asked. This time he almost looked stern as he watched you react to his hand making its way to your heat. Particularly when he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your flimsy bikini bottom.

You couldn’t hope to hide the yelp that crept up your throat when he did. You’d just been humping a pillow, a half a breath away from orgasm, when he’d interrupted. Your whole body was sensitive, to say the least.

At length, Joel made circles with his thumb and watched you squirm when he brought his touch under your panties. He hummed, feeling you drenched between your legs.

“Oh, darlin’, this is awful,” he frowned.

You swallowed a whimper and raised your gaze to him.

“W-what? What’s awful?”

Right before he answered, Mr. Miller sank two fingers inside you, prodding them gently between your soft, fleshy walls and eliciting the softest of moans from you.

“How needy this sweet little thing is for me,” he tsked, curling his fingers to bring about an even louder sound, “How pathetic and wet and horny you’ve been getting for a dirty old man like me. Must hurt somethin’ terrible.”

He had you there. You were greedy and needy and soaking the sheets like you never had before, dripping more arousal the longer he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You watched Joel’s expression change, and suddenly he was retracting his hand and bringing it down to his shorts. Those tight, bright red, bulge-teasing swim trunks that had been driving you buckwild earlier.

His erection was considerably bigger now, swollen with desire and leaping out of his shorts the second he yanked down the fabric.

“I can make that hurt go away, honey. Just lay still.”

Were you a victim of the world’s most vivid, lust-filled lucid dream of all time or was this actually happening? You almost couldn’t believe when the strings of your bikini were loosened and your pussy laid bare before him, shortly met with the throbbing head of his cock.

“You do want me to get rid of that funny feeling, right?”

You almost snapped your neck nodding so fast.

Mr. Joel Miller was going to take care of you—make that terrible, tingling ache go away with his dick.

Before you had a chance to prepare, the man was pushing himself inside you. Searing your walls with that thick, veiny member you’d just been dreaming of before. You couldn’t believe how full you felt, how fantastic he smelled, how overwhelmingly present he was to make you feel as good as you could.

His thumb was back at your clit, pressing light as a feather as he wedged his cock further inside you.

“C’mon, honey, let daddy in,” he murmured low, close to your ear as he sank his length between your folds, “Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered and grasped at his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist like a vice.

“Feel better than you expected?” Joel smirked.

“Yes, daddy. So fucking good,” you groaned when you felt his pubic bone brush your own. His thumb kept working your bundle of nerves as his hips began to stir.

“How long have you been touching yourself to me, hm?”

His question was simple enough but the hardest for you to answer in your present condition, Joel’s thrusts just beginning to pick up the pace. His balls slapped lightly against your ass, and his whole frame enveloped you in bed, shaking the frame with every stroke he gave you.

“Since— since the day I met you,” you managed in a breath. That breath melded quickly to a strangled moan when Joel seized hold of the base of your throat.

“That long and you never asked me to help out, darlin’?” his voice was almost taunting, his thrusts growing faster.

In no time at all, he was slamming into you full-force, hand still wrapped around your neck and lips curled into a smile. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d been dreaming about you too, as long as he could remember, from the very first day his daughter had introduced you to him.

It was wrong—he knew it just as well as you did.

But that didn’t change the fact of how good you felt wrapped around him, taking every inch of his cock as he pounded you into the bed.

“You’ll promise—” he paused to drive the head of his cock to your cervix and make you whine underneath him, “—to tell me, next time you have one of these feelings?”

“I will. I-I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good girl.” Joel kissed the crown of your head before he went back to fucking you rough.

You were almost embarrassed to say it was happening this fast, but that hot, euphoric feeling was building up inside you. You clamped your bottom lip between your teeth and willed it not to happen—not to make a mess of Mr. Miller’s cock so soon—but the sensation was stronger than you. And Joel saw it, too.

“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he grunted.

When you started to answer, you felt his fingers make their way to your mouth and push sharply past your lips. Made you suck his index and middle fingers as he fucked you and had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

And, to your surprise, he kept talking you through it.

“Keep fucking me, honey, keep milking this cock. You’ve made it this far—might as well cum all over me, huh?”

He looked cocky and self-assured—the same old Mr. Miller that you’d come to know and love. Only this time, he was helping you through an orgasm, all stretched out over his member and desperate for release. You dug your heels in the small of his back and sucked his fingers even harder, nodding your head when he told you to cum for daddy, cum all over this cock.

It was arguably one of the best orgasms of your life, getting pounded hard and fast while Mr. Miller groaned above you and shot his own load deep inside you. Unlike before, with that pillow wedged between your thighs, you actually screamed from the pleasure, bit down on the man’s fingers and bounced back and forth as you rode out your high in a firestorm of fervor and bliss.

In short, you were fucked-out and happier than ever.

Joel collapsed beside you, seemingly feeling the same.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, or when those smug, cunning features first appeared on his face, but suddenly he was up—propped beside you with a smile.

That handsome, grinning bastard trailed a finger to your neckline and tugged at the neon pink fabric of his shirt.

“So…when can I have this back?”

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

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saturnville · 11 days

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ii hands ii heaven, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black!fem!reader) warning: suggested sexual situations content: in which two newlyweds bask in the essence of one another. an: don't ask me what I know about LH44, I'm not gonna front and act like I know this man like the back of my hand. I saw some videos, watched some interviews, read some fics, and now we're here. just know I wanted to write & I pictured him for this fic lol. hope y'all enjoy

Soft mewls flowed from her parted lips like a waterfall. Her noises dove and crashed into the deepest oceans of their devotion. The intimacy of the moment was deep. They welcomed themselves to drown in it, leaving air at the surface and choosing to inhale the breath of adoration the other exuded.

With the soft light of dawn peering through the curtains, their bodies wove together like yarn, knotted together and unable to be untangled. As he whispered sweet sentiments against the shell of her ear, the remnants of the outside world faded away.

The desperation for one another flowed between them like lava, further igniting their passion and desire. They moved together in a unified harmony, exploring all the other had to offer. Tender affection and unrestrained passion were their portion. Each fiery touch, each delicate kiss was an unspoken promise of the depth of their love.

When the heat of passion began to cool, they stayed wrapped in the warm embrace of one another; damp bodies pressed against each other like glue. On their lips were smiles fueled by dopamine. Low eyes filled with adoration.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his breath warm against her lips. She giggled like a lovesick teenager and whispered back, bringing her trembling hand to his face, drumming her finger over his bitten and swollen lips. “Let’s get ready, yeah?”

She nodded slowly, her face lifting against the pillow as her head moved. She sat up slowly, her wince falling on the ears of her lover. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her and swept her off the warm bed. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby!”

He hummed softly and placed her on her feet. His tattooed arm opened the shower door and turned the handle. He waited for the water to warm before ushering her into the shore with a tap against her bottom. She scolded him playfully, “Hands to yourself.”

“I’ll try my best.”

What was intended to be a quick cleanse turned into a thirty-minute shower with heavy droplets against their bodies as she was pressed against the glass, heaving as the humidity invaded her throat. Goodness, they’d be so late.

They couldn’t keep themselves off of each other. His zipping the back of her dress led to his fingers brushing her hair off her neck and tracing the placement of her dark locks with his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her hands gripped the edge of the counter. He would be the death of her.

Her tongue darted out and slid over her swollen bottom lip. His hands began to wander over the perfectly fitted dress. It was the prettiest emerald green shade and complimented her skin's richness wonderfully. Every curve, riff, and ridge was accentuated. She looked beautiful.

“Okay, okay,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against his thigh. “We gotta go, baby, we gotta go.” She turned in his arms and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His chest, decorated with tattoos and the finest of jewelry.

“You look stunning,” he whispered, caressing her waist. “So pretty.”

She smiled bubbly and pecked his lips, “Thank you kindly.” Her hands smoothed out the thick linen of his suit jacket, the bling from her rings catching his eye. His heart leaped at the sight.

He hummed lowly and squeezed her bottom, smirking when his fingers caught the dampness between her legs. She gave him a look. He gave one back. “Mhm. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we get back. Let’s go, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“That’ll never get old,” she said, reaching behind to swipe her purse off the counter.

Her husband smiled softly and led her out of their shared bedroom. With a light kiss against her temple, he said, “It’s not supposed to. Let’s get out of here.” As they prepared to depart, the intimacy lingered like the sweetness of her fragrance.,

With whispered words, playful touches, and gentle kisses, they prepared themselves for what the outside world had to offer. Heaven.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton #lh44 #team lh44

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dd122004dd · 5 months

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Sweet Melodies and Seafoam Eyes

Request: Fem reader is a tribute in the quarter quell and is in love with Finnick. Instead of Katniss breaking the arena the games go like normal and it gets down to the final 2, her and Finnick. They can’t kill each other and want the capitol to allow both to be victors but after the Katniss and Peeta thing they have to show the capital that they really love each other and that its not a rebellious thing so they have sex in front of the cameras. It works and both are made victors but snow watched them and wants her to sleep with him.

A/N: It didn't 'feel' like old Snow would have sexual feeling at that stage for me personally. And also I felt a little creeped out writing a sexual scene with Snow, so I changed the ending.

Warnings: Voyeurism (suggested), Hunger Games, Bried descriptions of death and bodies, smut

Her labored breaths reverberated around the arena as the pair stared at each other. The other tributes laid dead across the arena, only the two of them were left, the last two. She glanced at him, Finnick Odair, the Capitol’s sweetheart, his once clean and polished face was matted with grime as he stared at her with his green eyes, reminiscent of their home, their district. Lost in his gaze she recalled the sound of the sea as it crashed against the shore, she recalled sleepless nights spent along the sandy shore as they stared at the murky stars, clinging to each other as if the next moment they’d be ripped apart. In those hidden moments she fell for him, with whispered words in the dark, with stolen moments their love grew. Through blurry eyes she approached him, a small dagger in her hand, the same hand he once held, the same wrist he once kissed, promising the world.

“You know what to do,” she said, her voice trembling.

“No!” he exclaimed, tears running down his cheeks as he grasped her wrist, pulling the dagger away from her.

“It has to be me, there can only be one winner, you need to live, to go on,” she said.

“No, please, I can’t lose you. I need you; you can’t leave me. I’ve lost everyone, I won’t lose you,” he said desperately, grasping her arms as he held her against him, as if, if he held her close enough, she’d be safe from the looming sword of fate

“There’s no other option. They won’t trust us, not after Katniss’ farce.”

“There has to be another way- something- we’ll both come out of this alive or not at all.” He said, a determined look in the eye as he glanced at the camera recording the them. He glanced back at her, his beloved’s tear-stricken face as he glanced back at the camera, an idea emerging in his head, “If they won’t believe us, we’ll just have to force them to.”

She tilted her head, looking at him in confusion, “How?”

“Like this,” he said before crashing his lips to hers. Their lips molded together in a familiar dance of passion. His hands gripped her back as he pulled her closer to him, melding their bodies into one. He broke the kiss after a few moments as she stared up at him, a dazed look in her eyes as she slowly realized where they were. She glanced at the camera as his idea finally clicked into place, he wanted to prove that they were one, and there was only one way to do it. She looked at him with wide eyes as he slowly cupped her cheek, whispering, “Look at me, its just me, me and you, no one else, we can do this, we have to.”

His desperate eyes convinced her as she slowly nodded her assent. He slowly lowered her onto the soft grass of the arena, leaves sticking to her back as he kissed her, kneeling over her smaller form. She gasped as she removed his shirt, her hands raking down his golden skin, his warmth penetrating her fingers as she marveled at the man before her. Desperately her hands moved to his trousers, tugging at them till he finally broke from her, pulling his pants down. Gazing into her eyes, he found himself transfixed by her, her courage, her beauty, her, her, her.

Rolling her hips against him, she prompted him to touch her, his large fingers encircled her clit, gently massaging as he felt her slick against his fingers. He slowly inserted his fingers, taking his time to explore her for what could possibly be the last time. Before he could control himself, he pressed his tongue against her, barely able to contain his moan as he tasted her, her familiar tart slick coated his tongue as he lapped at her. Her breathless whimpers and moans drove him further as he lapped at her heat, his fingers pressing deliciously inside her as they moved.

Her body knotted tighter as his fingers quickened, her back arching as he brought her to the edge, her body shuddering under his, her breathless moans reverberated around the arena, as thousands viewed her flushed face.

Soon, her face was once again covered by blonde hair as Finnick kissed her deeply, the taste of her essence smeared across his lips as she tasted herself, moaning at the taste as she ground her hips against his, silently begging him to take her.

He was about to progress when a voice rung out within the arena, “I present to you, our winners of the 75th Hunger Games!”

The pair looked at each other through glassy eyes, they had done it! They’d both made it out alive. They were soon removed from the arena, a barrage of people congratulating them on their victory and cooing at them, telling them they were a gorgeous, if not sensuous pair together. Finnick accepted the compliments through gritted teeth as he pondered on what Snow would possibly say about their audacious display.

They were summoned to Snow after being cleaned and dressed. His office was the same way it had always looked, pristine and grandiose, it reflected the personality of the man who occupied it, it radiated cold, as if the warmth that channeled through their bodies was zapped out of them the moment they set foot into the room, it also reminded one of a doll house, a place where everyone played their roles according to the master that pulled the strings.

Snow sat on his seat across his desk, barely paying any attention to the two. After a few moments he broke the silence, “Quite a show you put on.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said awkwardly.

“It was no show-” Finnick tried to defend.

“Enough. I must admit, it was certainly more believable than Katniss and Peta. A tragedy, what happened to our young friends.”

“Yes, sir,” Finnick said, gritting his teeth as he forced the words from his mouth.

“You are the Capitol’s new sweethearts,” Snow remarked, after a moment of silence.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, sir, just that I adore this woman,” Finnick replied stonily.

“She has a certain charm about her, doesn’t she? Your precious pearl,” Snow said, looking at the woman, almost as if he was analyzing her worth in a single gaze.

Finnick glared into the cold calculating eyes of the man before him, dreading what he would say next.

“Perhaps her beauty should be shared, after all, a pearl is meant for everyone to admire,” Snow said, rising from his seat and approaching the young woman, “…for everyone to touch,” he said, lightly grazing his fingers over her shoulder as he walked around her as if appraising her worth, “for everyone to taste,” he said, standing in front of her.

A resolute ‘No’ reverberated around the room as Snow snapped his head towards Finnick, tilting his head slightly he repeated mockingly, “No? You forget yourself, Finnick.”

“Would the Capitol not prefer to see their new sweethearts together, married with adorable babies for the Capitol to fawn over, rather than have them in their beds?” she asked, breaking the tension between the two.

Snow looked at her, thinking her suggestion over, “Perhaps.”

“Well then, perhaps we ought to give the Capitol what they want, after all, it would be a true tragedy to deny the citizens, don’t you think so, President Snow?” she asked, furthering her point.

“Your pearl has wit, perhaps I underestimated her,” Snow remarked.

“Perhaps,” Finnick said, looking at her affectionately.

“I look forward to seeing you again,” Snow said, silently dismissing the pair.

As soon as they were in the safety of their transport, she let out a breath, shuddering as she felt fantoms hands touch her as she recalled Snow’s revolting fingers against her skin. She struggled to breathe as she recalled his words. Her body shook against the seat as she wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly as she tried to calm down, to no avail.

Slowly she could here the faint sound of someone telling her to breathe, slowly she regained her breath as warm arms enveloped her form and pulled her against a chest.

“Shh, you’re safe here, you’re safe now, we’re going home,” the voice said as he continued to soothe her. He slowly began humming a lullaby that he’d heard her hum on countless sleepless nights.

As the melody filled the air, she found herself slowly relaxing, her body slumped against his as her mind was lost in the sound of crashing waves, sweet melodies and seafoam eyes.

#finnick x you #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #tw. voyeurism #hunger games #the hunger games

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

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I was excited when I saw you were doing the older men but I was very tired last night and forgot to write a request, but I'm gonna ask now! Can I please request some cuddly, lazy sex with Rayleigh in the middle of this night?❤

“𝙻𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚁𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑”

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Soft!Ray, Cockwarming, Fingering, Reader is in her early 20s, Reader is chubby implied, A bit of fluff, Twt link mentioned

Steering in your sleep, you try to not wake your lover that sleeps peacefully behind you, you sigh.

All day. All damn day you have been…

in need to say the least.

Today you barely stayed focused on your daily tasks because seeing Rayleigh walking around in his tight v-necks, with every muscle so perfectly defined always made you distracted.

UGH! It was annoying how much power he had over you, his scent when he brushed past you, his strong arms that caught you when you tripped over yourself, his beautiful long hair, everything about Ray had you in a (horny) chokehold.

“Sleep.” You heard his deep groggy voice hit your ear as he pulled you in tighter, you squirmed “Whats wrong.”

You softly explain the “itch” you have been having all day and from that very moment you felt his smile grow,

Man, he loved you.

“‘Told you to always come to me when you’re feeling like that…remember?”

He didn’t give you time to answer his hands squeezing the bottom of your tummy before creeping down into your panties to feel the damage he already caused you, “You’ve been this wet all day, pretty girl?”

Rayleigh knew your dilemma, he knew about your past boyfriend, how he never allowed you to freely express yourself. He was a dumbass(Ray’s words), so from that point on he knew he had to fix what your ex lacked.

Sexual attendance.

His thick long finger tips swirled at your slipperly clit a few times before plunging inside you. Immediately squeezing down on him and arching your back he sshh’es you,

“Not too loud, pretty girl…it’s late. Don’t want anybody else to hear you, hm?”

You felt him pull down his boxers from behind, gripping the sheets in anticipation, you felt his dick slap against your ass, you bit your lip at the weight.

“Ray—mmmph!”

Your boyfriend turned your head to land his lips on yours, even in the dead of night his mouth was so soft and sweet to your taste.

You were eager to say the least, latching your lips around his tongue to suckle on, Rayleigh felt his hips snap into your lower behind almost as if he were slowly rutting against you.

The old bed began to creak back and fourth slowly to the rhythm of both of your movements,

“Y’ready?” He pulls away from you, smirking at your whines for more, you nod.

He knew his size was still way more than you’ve ever had to take so he braced you by kissing the back and side of your exposed neck, as he moved your leg upwards for more access, he was poking and prodding at your lower lips, before sliding his way inside you.

You gasp, “Ray~.”

With no more patience he throws your leg over his and fucked you from the side.

Each grind and thrust had your jaw slacked, his public hair rubbing against the top of your ass whenever he grinds against you in a circular motion, he swallows your moans with a kiss.

His large hand dwarfing your breast and giving it a squeeze, “Fuck, pretty—-girl…cum…cum for me.”

The creaks of his bed grew louder under you, the covers that were laid over your bodies were thrown off due to heat, he landed his lips on your neck, leaving a pretty mark on you.

You felt your orgasm wash over you both to the point you tried moving away due to how much you were shaking—it was always an overwhelming feeling to be filled up by him, Ray didn’t care though, his ponytail loosening and his body moving against you to help further your high.

“Just like that…” He huffed slowing down, your body was quivering, he chuckled seeing your face in the pillow gripping the sheets, so much to take in but yet you ass still softly moves on his cock. “There you go, pretty girl…c’mere.”

He laid you on his chest, still full you shiver to the feel of his cum oozing out of your pussy down his dick still inside you.

“Better?” He hummed rubbing and kissing your head, you nod weakly the weight of your eyes taking over to drift off asleep.

Rayleigh smiles, he’s so infatuated with you, throwing the blanket back on you both he pushes you upwards in his neck.

“‘Love you, doll….sweet dreams.”

#one piece #black reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #silvers rayleigh #op rayleigh #one piece rayleigh #rayleigh smut #rayleigh x female #rayleigh x reader

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atinystaypixie · 10 months

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Game of a Slutty Virgin - Pt. 1

I decided to go through with it! I will make this into a little series featuring the men of AOT. I really thank you for all the love that was shown on the intro to this!

Overview: "On the way up, you take note of his hands. His fingers are longer than yours and are slightly larger with a gentle grip on your hand. It’s not the necklace you are looking for."

Warnings: Fem reader, masturbation, blowjobs, fingering, other sexual stuff but no penetration, smut is at the end so feel free to skip if you want. Ignore typos and grammar mistakes plz n thank you

Word Count: 3.9k+

18+ MDNI!!

Y/n is black it is just not explicitly described yet just fyi🧚🏽‍♀️

A/N at the end

Part 2 Out Now

"Shit, you're so sexy", groans the man as you grind your ass on him to the beat of the music in the club. He has his hand on your hips and his face in the crook of your neck as he's getting hard from you rubbing against him. Standing taller than you with a nice smile, strong arms, and a deep voice. To many looking for a quick hookup, he would be perfect. From what you're feeling from the hardness poking your ass, he seems to be well sized down there. He even seemed like good company from the conversation you had earlier when he approached you. He bought you a drink, told a few jokes, and took you to dance. You can tell he wants to take you home for the night.

Unfortunately that feeling isn't mutual. He will be standing here wondering where you disappeared to after this song ends. Where the woman with the nice hips and alluring eyes in the little black dress could have possibly gone. You wouldn't have ditched him would you? Not after the flirty giggles, the hour and a half of heavy grinding, and the numerous fleeting touches? He spent most of the night with this pretty stranger. So why hasn't she come back to finish what was started? You had all the answers to every question that would plague his mind.

"If you would excuse me, I need to use the restroom." You giggle and turn to press a kiss to his cheek. A mark you have left your countless victims with. A kiss so sweet and light, yet it seers through their fog filled brains that's clouded with you. The mark that they will hold on to with the assurance the woman will be returning to them. The woman they will never have contact with again after she has aroused them in the sweetest way possible.

You bat your lashes and flash a smile before walking off to the restroom. The last smile he will ever see from you and the restroom you will never enter because you are making your way towards the exit when you see you are out of his view. Your body blends with the others in the club who are making out and feeling each other up as they enjoy their night. As you make it outside, you see couples hand in hand and many groping each other with the known thought of having sex as soon as they can. You think that it must be nice for them to be with someone and feel they can satisfy their sexual needs. You wish you could relate to them because your sexual needs were the exact reason you left the man to figure out that you weren't coming back. You knew from the time spent with him tonight that he wouldn't feed your desire even if you were really looking to take him home.

You had a list of answers to the questions you knew were now forming in his head. He was too soft. The way he was gripping your hips told you he had no real strength to treat you like you wanted. He was holding you like glass when his hard member was clearly not giving the same message. The way he grinded on you was too weak. He was moving back against you, but you could tell he couldn't handle you even though you weren't giving him the fullness of yourself. The way he talked to you wasn't causing your thighs to clench. A deep voice is nice, but it won't get you far. If he called you sexy one more time, you genuinely would have lost it. His flirting was limited and got old quick. He obviously thought you were the pretty and sweet type who was made of porcelain. You would need to drink the bar dry before you would want to take him home. Even if he did somehow make you truly consider keeping him for the night, you still would have left him in the end. You never came to this club with the intent on finding a hookup. Before you even walked through the door, you knew you would be rejecting any man tonight. Sex was never your goal for the night. It was just to enjoy yourself and tease some unknowing man until you were ready to leave.

You've been through this cycle time and time again. Whether it be on your college campus, in the club, or from one of the dates you pick up from time to time on dating apps when you are bored. Meeting men who fall prey to your honey voice and hypnotizing eyes. They all think they found some well mannered girl who they can show a good time thinking they are going to give you the best sex of your life because someone so gorgeous only deserves that. None of them realize that you have already sized them, chewed them up, and spit them out. You've talked to too many men and know too much of what you to not know when a man is more talk than action. Especially the ones who think they have figured you all out. The ones who know for a fact they can slut you out and make you into their own personal sex addict. The ones who you laugh at the most because they don't see the signs that you are already a slut. How would someone so innocent have her clothes fitted just right to be a deadly tease, eye contact so good that it makes her pick of the night nervous, and touch him just enough that he catches goosebumps and is drooling for even the lightest tap from her.

As you make it to your car, you chuckle slightly to yourself thinking how you do all this without having ever actually had sex. No man has been between your legs and got to claim your awaiting gem. You get such a thrill from playing with men that you never actually slept with one. You aren't looking to sleep with one unless you are for certain he can fill your sexual appetite. Spending many nights with your hand wrapped in your thighs, you’ve found pleasure in many ways, the spots that are more sensitive than others, and the nasty things that make your pussy throb. Men tend to never pick up that you are still a virgin just like they never pick up that they won’t get you in their bed for the night.

You make it home and kick off your shoes. You shower and know you will be spending the night pleasuring yourself again. Your favorite vibrator against your clit, fingers twirling your nipples, and juices running down your thighs. Taking your time to adore every inch of your body because nothing brings greater pleasure than a worked up orgasm. You have a high sex drive and pull at least three toe curling orgasms out of yourself before feeling comfortable enough to go to sleep for the night.

The next morning you head to the cafe where you have become a regular. “There’s my favorite girl! How are you this morning? Came for your usual, pretty girl?” Your favorite barista greets you as he starts preparing your order. He knows it by heart with the amount of times you’ve ordered it. “Good morning,” you say in a cheerful voice, “I’m good! Thank you for asking. How are you today?”

“Better now that I’m seeing your pretty face.” He was always sweet, but you sure he is like that to every customer. You never hear anyone say they have bad service from him. “Enjoy your drink, doll. I’ll talk to you again when you come back through.” He tells you as he hands you your drink with a cute hand drawn smiley face on the coaster.

“Thanks! You always get me right. See you later!” You wave bye to him as you head out the door getting ready to attend class for the day. He makes the best coffee and you don’t want it unless he prepares it. You need the good flavor plus caffeine to make it through your boring lectures. The tasty drink also helps distract you from the sinful thoughts that run through your head during the day. You can’t help the thoughts of a strong hand gripping your hair as you get deep, rough backshots that have you gripping the sheets between your fingers as you cry in ecstasy. Thoughts of someone forcing you to keep your arc even though you are overstimulated and can feel your heat squeezing around his thick shaft. The morning drink helps keep your inner slut at bay long enough to get through the day till you can get back home to pleasure yourself.

“Y/n!” You hear your best friend yell as you make it to your seat for class. “Tell me! Tell me! Did you find some hot dick t to take home last night?” She asks loudly, causing a few people to turn around and some to snicker. “Can you not be so loud? And no, I did not thank you very much!” Sasha was your best friend, but she didn’t know the reason for you going out to try to meet men. She assumed that you were being picky and just had bad luck, not that you never intended on finding someone to fuck in the first place.

“Bad luck again? If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are just going out to waste time. You need to stop being so picky and just jump on the first good looking dick you see!” Before you could respond, the professor walks in and announces he will begin class. You feel relief because it will cause Sasha to stop questioning you.

After class, Sasha and you are walking outside and your sex thoughts are starting to get loud again. You couldn’t wait to go home and cum till your heart’s content. Teasing your breast softly then grabbing them with just enough strength to make it hurt. Tracing down your abdomen then back up before you dip down into the slick warmth of your-

“Hey! There is a party tonight by the way and we are definitely going!” Sasha suddenly announces making you realize you zoned out again. “Tonight? Where?” You question her because you really aren’t trying to have your alone time disturbed. You really needed to cum for hours tonight and aren’t interested in going to a party.

“It’s at Titans Frat. And no! You cannot bail on this one because you made me go to the last party by myself. I will be at your house by 9 so be ready. Byyee!” She says running off before you have time to object. This really isn’t good. You need quality time with your insatiable cunt and won’t get it because you have to take time to get ready and by the time you finish Sasha will be at your house. She is sweet, you love your best friend, but damn you really needed a long session tonight.

By the time you get home around 6, you start getting ready for the party you never agreed to go to but will be dragged to. You aren’t going to show you are depressed because you couldn’t play with your pussy all night. Even though your clit is begging you to rub her and your tight hole is begging you to finger her even if it’s just for five minutes, you ignore them and finish styling your hair and dressing in a cute crop top and skirt.

When you finish slipping on your shoes, you hear a car horn letting you know that Sasha has arrived. “Girl! We are going to go to this party and get you some dick!” You start to interrupt her by calling her name but it does no good, “and it will be some BIG dick attached to a FINE man!”

“Sasha!” You yell at her because you know not one man will be penetrating you due to you needing to be properly slutted out. However, what you tell Sasha is a different story. “I will not be getting any dick tonight. I am sure no one is trying to fuck a virgin tonight.” You go with playing the innocent virgin card in hopes of getting her to calm down.

She sighs before talking,”Y/n it will be okay. You will get your big cock one day.” This girl just doesn’t stop. “ ‘Cuz I know I am! Somebody’s son is going to be splitting these legs! If he ain’t trying to fuck my cervix, he need to get away from me”, you had never been so happy to see theTitans’ house although everyone is there at least once a week, “WE’RE HERE!” You tell her because she was talking so much that she almost drove past it.

Once inside, you are greeted with people already intoxicated and some more of your friends. You get comfortable in the corner with them and start talking as the music blares through the house. There is one unfamiliar face there and you make eye contact with him a few seconds before he moves around to introduce himself. “I’m Armin. I haven’t seen you before.”

You give him a small smile before responding,”I’m Y/n. I can say the same about you. You just transfer or something?”

“Transfer? No.” The blonde chuckles a little,”I’ve been here since the start. I usually stay in, but I decided to chill tonight. I’m friends with Sasha too. I saw you walk in with her.”

Speaking of the devil,”I see you met Y/n, Armin! You two are really cute together! Maybe you should get to know each other more? Yea?” Of course she was up to something. No wonder she was forcing you to come to this party. She was playing matchmaker.

“Well, I don’t mind. How about you?” Armin turns to look at you with a cute smile. “Yea, me either. Let’s talk then.”

After a few drinks and a couple of hours, you and Armin ended up alone as everyone else broke off to dance or hookup with someone they found. He was an interesting guy to say the least and you found out he was extremely intelligent. You can tell he got bolder with the alcohol in his system because he was closer and touching you more. You could tell he was interested in you and decided to feed into it. His blonde hair was falling in his eyes so you moved it and started playing with it. Armin smiled and took your hand before interlocking your fingers together.

“You want to go somewhere more private?” He suddenly asks while holding eye contact. Smiling slightly as if you were shy, you nod and let him lead you to a room upstairs. On the way up, you take note of his hands. His fingers are longer than yours and are slightly larger with a gentle grip on your hand. It’s not the necklace you are looking for.

When you make it to the room, he moves in slowly but you move slightly quicker because you aren’t interested in being here long. You might be a virgin, but you aren’t the type to act like one. Armin is kissing you back but it’s soft. You hate soft. He is more pecking your lips than making out with you and it’s making you wonder why he even invited you up if he was going to act like this. You can feel his hand travel under your skirt and grab at the plush of your thighs. You turn him around so that he is walking towards the bed and straddle him once he is sat. He starts kissing your neck which causes you to emit soft moans. You begin grinding on him as you feel him hardening in his pants. This causes him to groan and pull your hips closer to him.

You need more than this. You’ve been needing to cum all day and this stupid party is the reason you couldn’t. “Minnie,” you blink at him with a whine and faux desperate eyes,”please touch me.” You plead as you drag his hand around to the front of panties under your skirt. He looks at you with widened eyes and nods quickly. He flips you so that you are now laying down and that he is hovering over you. He rubs up your slit once to gather some of your juices then begins to circle your clit. You palm him over his jeans while eliciting small moans for his enjoyment. Armin begins moaning and circles your clit faster. You need to feel something in you though. He can’t just play with your clit. You unzip his pants and take out his dick from its confines. It has a pretty red tip and is decent sized. Armin hisses feeling your hands on him with no barrier.

You still need more. He hasn’t moved from your clit. Armin lets out a shocked gasp as you flip him and climb on top. His dick is aligned with your face as your pussy is hovering over his. You look over your shoulder and make eye contact, “is this okay?” He eagerly agrees before slipping your panties to the side and latching on to your folds. Swirling his tongue through your slit before stopping at your entrance and inserting his tongue, Armin starts thumbing at your clit. Applying pressure there as he fucks his tongue in and out of you moaning at the taste. You might have been too quick to judge because he is working wonders on your needy hole. You almost forget you were supposed to be sucking his dick. It’s leaking precum now and running down his shaft. You lick from the base up to his angry red tip getting a taste of the salty liquid. He moans into you, sending vibrations through you increasing the pleasure. You swirl your tongue around his tip before wrapping your lips around him.

You gently suck on his red tip before taking more of him into your mouth. You pull him almost completely out then deepthroat him all out once. This pulls another moan out of Armin. He moves his tongue from your sweet entrance and inserts a finger. His hands are nice, you saw that coming up the stairs, but his tongue is better. You push your pussy against his face hoping he will catch the hint, and thankfully he does. He uses his other hand to spread your folds more and attach to your clit. Rolling the bud between his lips then flattening his tongue against it causing your toes to slightly curl. He is really working wonders with his tongue. But, you are about to work more with yours.

Hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pull his dick out your mouth, you release him with a pop before licking a long stripe down his shaft. You spit on his tip and take him in both of your hands making a twisting motion on his hardened member. Gathering more saliva in your mouth, you place a sloppy kiss on the red tip before you start bobbing your head up and down on him. You move one hand off of him and push him to the back of your throat while moaning. “Fuck! Y/n, shit!” He stops his actions of your heat as his dick begins to twitch. You take this as a sign to start fondling his balls to add to his sensitivity which causes him to throw his head back from pleasure. You pull him from the warmth of your throat and skim your thumb over his tip before speaking, “Minnie, don’t stop please. I’m almost there.” You tell him with a soft pout. You refuse to leave without cumming tonight.

He realizes he has stopped and begins fingering you again. He’s making a mess on your pussy. Sloppy kissing your outer lips before running his wet tongue up and down your folds. He’s knuckles deep in you when you feel him wrap his arm around your hips and pull you even closer to his lips. If you were to look back, you would see the mix of your juices and his spit running down his chin. He lays harsh licks to your aching clit causing your hole to clench around his fingers curling in you. You feel your core tightening signaling you are cumming soon. Armin feels you clenching and pushes fingers harder in you rubbing your walls.

Taking his twitching member back into the wetness of your mouth, you suck him in with more pressure. He has pre-cum and your hot saliva dripping down the length of his cock and feels his release nearing. Both of you are working each other over and moaning into one another. With his cock in your mouth, you flatten your tongue and wiggle it while you gently fondle his balls again. “Y/n. Y/n! Fuck, I’m cumming,” he announces, but you don’t move to take him out of your mouth. You wanted to take his cum down your throat.

He continues fingering you, but you feel him tense when you hollow your cheeks and push him down your throat one last time. His hot liquid spilling in your mouth makes you moan as you wait for him to finish. This triggers your own release causing you sweet juices to splash in his face as you cum around his fingers. Both of you cumming and moaning help work each other through their orgasms. Each breathing heavy as you come down from your highs. You move from off top of him and move your panties back to the center of your core. You lay next to him for a second before you let out a slight giggle. “That was good Minnie, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,Y/n” he chuckles. “Fuck, you really drained me.” He lets out a sigh of pleasure.

It’s time for you to make your exit. You got what you wanted for the night: a decent orgasm. You start to stand up, “hey Minnie, I have to go. Got classes tomorrow.”

He looks at you and starts speaking, “oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you later then?” He asks. You know he means as in seeing more of you. You know he’s hoping to get to know you more. But, that’s not what you are here for.

You do your same little giggle and smile, the ones that mean you aren’t coming back. You do this and reply with a simple, “Mm!” An answer that’s not words, that can’t be counted as a definite yes. An answer men always take incorrectly from you. The answer you give him and kiss his cheek with before walking out the bedroom door and text Sasha that you would catch an Uber home knowing she was somewhere with a random man of her own.

You list in your head why Armin is wrong for you just like you do with the rest. He was good and made you cum, but his hands aren’t the necklace you were looking for. Fingers don’t rub the walls of your slick pussy right. And sadly, he didn’t even fuck your throat.

Another day, another man who’s dick you won’t be sitting on.

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

Again, thank you for the love on the intro to Game of a Slutty Virgin 💜! I hope you enjoy this part and the upcoming parts. Reader will get her cherry popped, but it will be by the man she picks at the end. The next chapters will be her having different sex adventures and trust they will not be limited to a just blow jobs and fingering. Stay tuned 🤗

#aot smut #attack on titan smut #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin x black reader #armin x black!reader #aot x black reader smut #aot x black reader #black reader smut #anime smut #pixie.aot fic

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milfgyuu · 1 year

Text

Vanilla III [M] FINAL

Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader Tags: 5.4k, F2L, Romance, Smut 18+ Summary: Joshua is a man with a plan and that plan involves a little dress-up, an old camera, and the woman he loves. It almost sounds sweet, doesn’t it?

One | Two | Three (Final)

Warnings: explicit sexual content 18+, minors dni!, bdsm practices, consent/rules/safe words established, mean-dom!josh, sub/brat!reader, unprotected sex (mxf), fingering (f), oral (f), manhandling, pussy slapping & spitting (?), breast/nipple play, nipple clamps, blindfold, taking explicit pictures, light bondage. throat/face gripping, possessive role/speech, demoralizing dirty talk, coarse language, multiple orgasms, pet names, moderate sir kink, aftercare.

You’re beginning to think you’ve become far too familiar with the foot of Joshua’s bed.

It hadn’t been more than ten minutes of being home from your date that he’d pressed you against the kitchen counter and told you to go wait for him. The morning had been spent with smiles and laughter. Stolen kisses and interlaced fingers over the table at breakfast and throughout the market. Now, your legs are tucked neatly beneath you, hands in your lap, head bowed as you wait for him to enter the room.

A chill runs across your bare skin and you savor it knowing Joshua’s bound to walk in any moment and incinerate you from the inside out.

Your eyes catch on the blue trim of the gorgeous two-piece lingerie set you’d chosen at random from the bag sitting atop his dresser. He’d told you to choose any set you’d like and there was something so soft and sexy about the color and thin lace material that you knew he’d be particularly pleased you chose it so you changed quickly, eager to get started with whatever he had planned.

You can smell his cologne long before his shadow appears but you don’t look up, even when you realize his shirt is removed, hanging by one hand as he looks down at you proudly. Walking over to his closet, he deposits the shirt and then his socks, belt, and pants. He takes his time, as you expected he would. It’s all a part of the game.

Hearing the closet doors close, your eyes squeeze shut and you focus on the sound of his footsteps getting closer, forcing yourself to wait, and be patient. Be good.

“Look at me.”

His command is merciful but his tone reminds you that disobedience won’t be forgiven so easily and you raise your chin, opening your eyes carefully though you still have to blink through the blurry black haze from squeezing so tightly in anticipation.

He’s standing closer than you had expected him to be and it causes you to tip your head back so far it almost creates a kink in your neck but much to your relief he takes one step back to get a better look at the outfit you chose for him. “You had to know this would be my favorite,” he hums in approval, “Why don’t you stand up and let me see you better?”

Your legs sting when you shift to stand and it takes you a moment to gain the feeling back again. Joshua hums, unfazed and unwilling to lend you a hand. It’s amusing for him to watch you pick yourself up off the floor, so determined to follow directions.

A part of him wants to piss you off.

Your toes tingle like they’re filled with static and you go to rock forward to stand up but you’re suddenly knocked over, falling flat on your back. You look up at Joshua’s face full of mirth and you’re incredulous. “Stand up,” he says again.

You push up on your elbows and glare at him. “Did you just shove me…with your foot?”

He cocks his head to the side. “I barely knocked you over. You were moving too slow,” he raises a brow, “Are you gonna get up now?”

Your nostrils flare and Joshua’s smug satisfaction makes you try to get up again but as soon as you make it upright, he shoves you back down again, this time by hand, and pins you against the floor. His hands are ridiculously large and he’s not shy about using his long fingers to toy with the material of your bra. Toying with you.

“Changed my mind,” he smirks, “Stay down there for a minute.”

He purposely pops one of the straps against your skin and you wince at the sting as he steps over you and back toward the dresser. You can’t really tell what he’s doing from this angle but only a moment later he’s hovering over you again, your new polaroid camera in hand. He clicks it right away, capturing the surprise on your face and then he ignores you entirely, focusing on the photo being ejected from the camera.

He pinches the bottom of it and flaps it back and forth a few times, bringing the photo to life. It takes a minute or so and then he’s grinning, seemingly satisfied. He leans over you holding the picture above your face. “Look how pretty you are.”

Heat blossoms in your chest and when he bends down, straddling your waist, you take a deep breath. His hand starts at your stomach, gliding up the smooth expanse of skin until he’s hooking one finger in the material between your breasts, pulling on it in such a way that the material stretches and pulls them together, your flesh bubbling out of the cups.

He angles the camera and takes a shot of your torso between his knees.

The familiar sound of a photo being spit out rings in your ears and Joshua merely grabs it and tosses it to the side. A surprise for later.

“Maybe I should be the one thanking your father,” he murmurs, continuing his path upwards until his hand is firmly wrapped around your throat, he tips his head in a predatory fashion. “Do you think he expected it to be used like this?”

He squeezes and your mouth pops open on a moan. Joshua snaps another photo and mimics you, his mouth opening subconsciously before turning into a grin. His laughter is chilling in the sense that you’re reminded starkly how this goes. Joshua gives what he wants. Takes what he wants. And he will treat you like his own personal plaything.

His thumb presses against your lips and your tongue darts out, wetting the tip. He pushes in further, flattening your tongue to the bottom of your mouth and opening you up wide. His lids are downcast and you can feel him, rock hard against your stomach. It’s either bold or stupid, but you bring your hands off the floor and slide them up his thighs though you don’t dare to push them too high.

He puffs out a little air of amusement and retracts his hand.

This time when he stands, he actually offers you help up, and even though something in your head tells you not to trust him to not put you back on your ass, you take it and he hauls you to your feet. “Take it off,” he nods at your lingerie, “Slowly.”

He holds the camera up in front of his face, training it on your torso. As your straps slip over your shoulders he snaps another photo. It borders on tasteful - the way he only captures certain angles and sections of your body without exposing too much. Still, every photo belongs in a private album from their suggestion alone. Especially those with Joshua’s proprietary hands clearly evidenced on your body.

Fully nude you twist from left to right, anxiously awaiting his next move. He lifts his free hand and cups your chin, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip to tug it down. “Beautiful,” he murmurs to himself before turning around to place the camera on top of his dresser. Having two free hands is almost daunting because yes, he’s free to touch you, but what he might do with those wicked, skillful tools is still unknown.

Joshua doesn’t turn back around and instead takes his time sorting through one of the drawers. He takes things out and sets them aside as you attempt to stand on your tiptoes to see what he’s grabbing but he stills and barely turns his head over his shoulders.

“Sit down and have patience,” he says in a flat tone, “I’d put you over my knee but you like that too much to be a punishment, don’t you?”

His tone is so superior that it grates on your nerves but you do as you’re told. The way Joshua speaks to you when you’re alone would never fly outside the bedroom but here, in the safety of these four walls, it’s different. Here he will taunt, and tease, and push you to your very limits and then bring you unmatched ecstasy in reward.

You let yourself drink him in while he’s turned away from you. From the nape of his neck down, you marvel at his broad shoulders and follow the dip of his spine. Your fingers twitch at your sides, aching to dig them into the strong muscle of his back or his thick arms with their defined strength beneath taut, smooth skin.

“If you keep staring at me you’re going to make a mess on the sheets.”

Your face sours immediately. Asshole.

Before you can even dream of retorting, Joshua is walking back over to you with a few things in his hands, most notably, pristine white silks and a metallic tube of some sort. He sets them down on the bed next to you, along with a few other things, and the second you move to look down at them he snatches your face in one hand and glowers down at you.

“I was going to allow you to choose,” he squeezes hard enough to make your cheeks pinch, “Blindfold or not but it seems like I’ll be making that decision for you.”

The grip on your face vanishes instantly and he pushes further into your space, leaning over you until your head tips back and he drops a long hot kiss on your parted lips. “You remember what we talked about?”

You blink your heavy lids back and find him looking down at you, his pretty brown eyes searching yours. He’s referring to the conversation you had about blindfolding and how you initially were too nervous to be both blindfolded and restrained but that you were willing to try as long as you weren’t bound completely. You nod your consent. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs with a pretty smirk, “Give me your hands.”

With your wrists pressed together, Joshua weaves the silks around them, his nimble fingers making quick work of the restraint. He ties the ends in a pretty little bow and you exhale in amusement. Joshua smirks a little as he looks back up at you.

“Should you need to untie yourself at any point,” he guides your thumb and forefinger to grasp the end of the silk, “All you need to do is pull on the ends and it will come apart easily.”

He watches carefully as you follow his instructions and the silk falls apart. You wiggle your hands and fingers, and eagerly offer them back for Joshua to redo the binding. It’s hard to maintain composure when you’re so giddy to be tied up and fucked but he paints a flat, condescending face. “Oh look, baby knows how to follow basic instructions now. How cute.”

You bite your tongue before ‘Prick’ slips from between your plush lips and Joshua smirks as he secures the silks, knowing damn well that one pissed you off.

The only problem is that Joshua is learning that he has the power to make the same things you’d never put up with, such as taunting and insults, stoke your fire in a completely different way when he’s got you like this. He knows you’ll bite.

“Baby,” you mock boldly, “Knows how to do plenty, sir.”

Joshua laughs but it’s entirely empty and then he’s got you pinned back onto the bed with his long fingers hooked into your neck. His palm radiates heat and covers the entirety of your throat and the thought strikes you that should he have claws he could very well rip it clean open without a second thought but as it stands, his very human, blunt nails, are enough for you to go deathly still.

“Go ahead,” he goads you without a care, “Drop the good girl act. You know you want to.”

He extends his middle finger and presses it against your lips. When he pushes between them you swirl your tongue around the tip of it. The act itself so vulgar Joshua’s cock twitches against your thighs. He releases a haughty laugh. “How do you expect me to believe you suddenly know how to behave when you act like that, huh? You think I’ll give you whatever you want if you use your hot little mouth?”

You fucking hope so.

He pulls his finger out of reach, purposefully dragging it and your own saliva down your chin and across your neck as he readjusts his grip. “If I want your mouth, angel,” he squeezes and looks into your eyes until they flutter, “I’ll take it.”

A wave of arousal crashes over you when he relaxes his grip and a new heat floods your face in the form of embarrassment. There is no way he doesn’t know how wet he’s made you with his thigh snug between your own, pressing into your cunt unbearably.

Especially with the way you let a moan slip out when he shifts onto his elbow above you.

The memory of riding his thigh, fully clothed in your childhood bedroom floods your mind and you press the tips of your fingers into your cheeks to rid the cramping from how tightly your jaw is clenched. Joshua rolls his eyes in amusement and hikes your bound hands above your head until they’re well out the way.

“Thinking about rubbing your pussy on my thigh again?” he teases and this time you refuse to engage. “I’m curious though…was it as good as you thought it might be? You know, back when you were humping your pillow and thinking about me?”

Your eyes pop wide open and your jaw drops. There is no fucking way.

“You read my diary?!”

Joshua shifts down a bit and bites into the flesh of your breast. You hiss at the sting and he drags his tongue over the mark. “You read it to me.”

He continues biting and licking his way across your chest as you try to figure out what in the hell he means when you remember one night months and months back, well before any of this began, you had way too much to drink at dinner with your friends and called Joshua to pick you up. He hadn’t even hinted to you that anything out of the ordinary happened aside from you almost falling asleep on his kitchen counter at one point.

“Wait - you’re telling me you just…let that shit slide and pretended it never happened?”

Joshua’s teeth tug at your nipple and your hands swing forward but he pins them right back down and growls, “Keep them there until I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe in awe.

“I hold onto important information until it’s useful for me.”

Until he had you all alone in the very same bed you used to roll around in fantasizing about him. How amusing it must have been to offer you the real thing when he knew how you used to play in the dark and pretend. He took one of your dirty secrets and brought it to life while you were none the wiser. Half of you wants to wring his neck and the other, less civilized part wants to spend the next twenty-four hours acting out every single filthy wet dream Joshua’s ever had in repayment.

“Keep looking at me like that and you’ll ruin all the fun.”

The deeply disapproving tone of his voice makes you roll your eyes. How dare you look at him like you love him or something?

“That’s more like it,” he tuts and then he’s reaching for something further down the bed and you don’t realize what it is until it’s slipped over your face and your vision is entirely obscured. “There,” his breath tickles your skin, “Now you can roll your eyes all you want, princess.”

“I can still talk back,” you retort. “What are you going to do about that?”

Joshua huffs out a short laugh. “Don’t be shy, love. Just say you want my dick in your mouth. I promise to act surprised.”

Whatever you’re about to say dies on your lips when you feel cool metal brush against your nipple and you cry out when it clamps onto the sensitive nub and then a beaded chain spills between your breasts in a ‘U’ shape and you brace yourself against what you know comes next. You’d only experimented with the clamps once but it was enough to know the sting of pain needed a moment to give way to the pleasure.

“Aren’t those pretty?” he tests your threshold by lightly tugging on the chain connecting the clamps. You bite your lip and chase that lightheaded feeling that creeps over you. Joshua gently glides his finger back and forth along the inside of that chain, maintaining light pressure. “Color?”

A flick of his finger jerks at the clamps and you choke out, “Green!”

He rewards you with a kiss that ends far too swiftly for your liking and then his weight disappears completely. You know now that he’s not going to leave you alone and so you remain still and wait for him to make his next move. After a minute, you feel him on your right side and then the sound of the camera’s shutter goes off, along with the subsequent buzzing of the photo being printed. You listen for him to set the camera down again and sigh when he runs both hands along the length of your torso.

He shoves one hand between your thighs and rubs the pads of his middle and ring finger over your clit. Your breath hitches and he nips at the side of your jaw. “You’re so fucking wet for me,” he groans against your ear, knowing the sound of it drives you wild, “You don’t even need me to touch first, do you?” he asks, even as he slips both fingers inside.

“Lov-...love it when you t-touch me,” you pant out, back arched off the bed.

“Greedy,” he sucks air through his teeth as he slips his fingers free and slaps your cunt, hard, before sheathing them inside again.

“Fuck!”

Another slap. “Such a foul mouth.”

He’s moving so quickly now, absolutely unrelenting, and you cry out for him to do it again.

He obliges you even as he makes another snarky comment. You ignore him when he laughs and you ask him again. You beg for it and it’s humiliating yet none of that even matter when he slaps your cunt for the fifth time and you spasm violently. Joshua moves quick enough that the moment your orgasm hits, he’s tearing off your blindfold and pushing his thick length into you with a grand amount of effort.

Your pulsing walls squeeze him and make it almost impossible to get through and the feeling alone makes Joshua openly moan. Your eyes flit to his and he almost looks embarrassed until you arch up into him and laugh. “That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”

Which is apparently the wrong thing, or maybe, the right thing to say because your lover hitches your thigh up and around his waist to drive into you so deeply there isn’t room to laugh, breathe, think…he’s all consuming in the way he owns you in this very moment.

Not like an object. A thing to command and control but a treasure.

To covet and worship above everything else.

Even with one of his hands pinning yours into the pillows above your head while the other is gripping your jaw so tightly that even if you wanted to break eye contact with him, you couldn’t. Even when he grits his teeth and scolds you. It doesn’t matter, not when he’s pouring himself into you just to watch you overflow into sheer madness.

“Is it amusing to you…” Joshua grunts, pulling his cock out just to slowly push it all the way back in, “...the way your hot little cunt makes me lose control?”

Your lips brush together as he speaks but it’s a mere exchange of harsh breaths and words, nothing more. Kissing him is fruitless, he won’t take pity on you and your needy attempts. Your eyes flutter shut on a sharp thrust and he squeezes your cheeks, shaking your head in warning.

“Open your eyes,” he tilts your chin up, “Now.”

You want to listen. You want to look at him…you can’t. It’s as if your lids are sealed shut and Joshua’s relentless pace is making it near impossible to access the part of your brain that controls movement. It almost comes out a little panicked when you stutter, “I c-can’t…I’m trying b-but I can’t!”

To your utter horror, Joshua pulls out and you can’t feel him anywhere. It’s the nudge you needed to finally peel your lids back and thankfully he’s there at your side but your cunt throbs and clenches with the loss and it sends you reeling. You attempt to sit up and a big hand shoves you back down. “Slow down,” Joshua says - his tone hard and difficult to read with the adrenaline making you jittery.

“I’m not going to fuck you if you can’t follow the simplest of directions,” he says, dark eyes piercing you straight down to the bone, “You’re going to look at me when you come or you’re not going to come at all. Is that clear?”

You’re spinning and trying so hard to focus that your voice is a little wobbly when you manage a simple, “Yes, sir.”

You make another attempt at sitting up and Joshua’s hand again shoves you into the mattress. He sneers and just the fact that he’s able to make such a disdainful glare possible with those perfectly pouty lips makes you pinch your thighs together. Joshua clocks the motion and scoffs.

“Why do you beg for my disapproval, hm?”

“I d-don’t.”

Joshua twists a finger in the chain between the clamps and pulls, your nipples burn under the sensation and you whimper pathetically. “It’s one thing to be a brat,” he huffs and twists a little harder, “But a liar? You’re better than that.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ’m sorry, sorry…” tears well in your eyes so Joshua eases up to check in with you but the second you answer that you’re still green, he continues on smoothly.

“Admit it,” he reaches up and loosens your wrists until he’s able to lower them back down to your sides, “You like to play dirty.”

“Slowly,” he murmurs as he helps you sit upright, “Admit that you love to push my buttons just to see when I’ll snap.”

Your lips quiver as he continues to maneuver your shaking body until he’s sitting with his back propped up against the pillows and you hovering over his lap. He loops his finger back under that chain and pulls forward until you're pressed against his chest with his teeth nipping at your throat. “Admit that you want to see how far you can push me until I fuck you so hard you don’t even have the capacity to think let alone talk back.”

His opposite hand rubs roughly over your thigh and up your backside to grab a handful of your ass and you cry out when he pulls down on that chain at the same time. “Admit that you’re willing to take everything I give you, even if you have to trade your dignity to get it.”

You’re nodding fervently and Joshua smirks against your throat. You’re such a proud person, always so sure of yourself. Confident, independent, strong-willed. And yet, for him, you’d trade it all away for his simple touch. The belittling and stripping of power, it’s something you’d only ever trust him with and it fills him with vigor like he’s just drank bottled lightning.

Pulling you down and grinding you over his lap, he bites at your shoulder. “Do you love me, baby?”

“Fuck, y-yes.”

Another pass and his cock is poised at your entrance, teasing you. “Say it again.”

“I, oh-” you’re still so wet he slips back inside but Joshua isn’t cruel enough to correct it, “-love y-you.”

You start riding him before he can change his mind and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Joshua grunts when you take him all the way inside and he secures one arm around your shoulder and the other bars your lower back, anchoring you to his body. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” you manage in short little pants, “Oh m-my god, I love you.”

Joshua does his best to angle his hips and meet you halfway but the sound of your crazed desperation is driving him to a breaking point. “Of course you do, sweetheart,” he grunts with effort, “Why else would you get on your knees and crawl for me, huh? Would you do that for anyone else, baby?”

You shake your head, bouncing in his lap even though your legs are impossibly numb and you’re not even sure if you’re the one moving or if he is doing that for the both of you.

“Only you,” your head falls back as his lips trapeze along your throat, “I’d do anything for y-you.”

Joshua licks the pad of his thumb and circles your clit so quickly you know this is it - you’re absolutely done for.

“Anything?” he grins deliriously, his own end surely to be coupled with your own, “Just for me?”

Babbling affirmations is about as much as you can manage and Joshua just laughs in response, the sound normally soft as velvet in your ears coming out hoarse and cracked. He loves when you’re nothing but a crying, incoherent mess - giving yourself over to him completely because he knows he’s won and all there’s left to do is simply utter the word and you’re near howling, limbs shaking as you fall apart.

It’s all a blur when he knocks you backwards and you hardly register your back hitting the mattress. Blinking hard and slow your vision pieces together and Joshua is on his knees between your thighs, jerking himself to completion all over your stomach and breasts.

With a final, almost violent grunt he rests a hand on your knee to steady himself. His head hangs, as does his hair, damp with sweat, and his chest heaves from the exertion. Perhaps you’re biased because you’re insanely attracted to Joshua in general but in this moment he’s absolutely fucking glorious.

After a few moments spent gathering his wits again, he’s shocked to hear giggling… endless, uncontrollable giggling.

His eyes light up and he raises his brows in question but you just cannot stop for the life of you. Your nerve endings haven’t stopped firing since you orgasmed and this is the aftermath of all the adrenaline and endorphins flooding your system. Joshua chuckles and bend down to kiss your knee cap.

“We better get you cleaned up and tucked in before the comedown hits,” he says softly and then he’s gone for a mere second before reappearing with your camera in hand, “One more picture though,” he holds it up and takes a shot, before depositing the photo somewhere on the floor and the camera on the bedside table.

Between bouts of giggles and teeth chattering you manage, “Is that why you pulled out? For a picture?”

Joshua grins unabashedly as he helps you straighten your legs back out. “I couldn’t resist,” he reaches down and tugs at the chain connecting the clamps that you mostly forgotten about, “Let’s take these off and get cleaned up, ok baby?”

You nod but honestly, it’s up to him to maneuver your body because you’re sunken into the mattress and cannot move a single limb on your own. “I don’t think a s-shower is a good idea. Not that you’re not super buff and all but…”

He bites his lip to stifle a laugh and nods. “Appreciate you stroking my ego.”

Joshua climbs off the edge of the bed to slip into the adjoining bathroom. You can hear the water running for a bit then he’s back and cleaning the mess off your stomach with a warm washcloth. He folds it neatly and keeps it there for a minute while he removes the clamps from your breasts. “These,” he pinches his lips when you hiss, “Are going to be tender for a bit.”

He removes the other clamp and tosses them aside. The cool air makes them sting and you whimper in discomfort. Joshua pouts his lips at you patronizingly just before he dives down to suckle one and then the other until you’re swatting at his shoulder. He laughs, easing back even as you glare at him.

He picks up the cloth again and cleans the inside of your thighs but the second he moves toward your center you snatch his wrist up and he looks up at you. “That’s embarrassing. I’ll do it myself.”

Joshua offers a very unimpressed look and smarts, “Embarrassing for who, cry baby?”

Oh, if you could move literally any part of your body you’d beat him with it.

You open your mouth to retort but he decides to cut you off and clean you with his tongue instead. The deranged moan that falls from your lips is followed by the sound of you slapping a hand over your own mouth. He is not allowed to win this debauched warfare. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together feebly but those massive hands clamp down on them and you’re stuck.

“Josh…” your warning tone does nothing to derail him as he licks into your core.

He pulls back and examines your pussy thoughtfully.

“Joshua, I am so seri-”

He meets your eyes and purposefully spits on your cunt, smirking. “Oh no…I missed a spot.”

You groan at his demonic sense of humor. “F-fucking….evil…”

You want to pull away from the onslaught but your hips are like cement and he’s got your legs pinned down and you have nowhere to go. Just like everything else Joshua gives you…you sit and take it like a good girl.

His teeth graze your clit and it’s like wildfire between your thighs as he pulls back and says, “You told me you’d do anything for me…right, angel?”

As much as you don’t want to give into his game you have to because if he keeps this up you’ll explode into smithereens. It has to end. Now.

“Yes, yess, yes, oh m-my god yes, anything!”

“Then come again on this pretty face you love so much.”

It’s the way he says it, his voice deep and provoking, commanding, and the way his tongue flattens against you lapping up and down, up and down, his nose rubbing against your clit as he goes and you come so hard you swear you black out. Your vision swirls and pulses beneath your lids shut so tightly they ache and Joshua simply laughs.

“You’re a-actually insane,” you stutter out, blinking repeatedly though your eyesight is no less fuzzy then it was a moment ago, “I cannot do that again.”

Joshua goes to say something and you interrupt him. “That was NOT a challenge, Joshua!”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I can wait. I’m a patient man.”

You nearly cackle. “No, you are not!”

He quirks a brow. “How many years did I wait for you to take the blinders off, hmm?”

You grumble something mocking like, “HoW MaNy YeArs DiD I WaIt Fo-” but it turns into a shout when Joshua leaps on top of you and bites into your shoulder like an actual hellion until the two of you are laughing and wrestling in the bed you just defiled.

He rolls onto his back and drags you up against his side, both of you taking in deep breaths and exhaling gentle laughter. Looking up at him, you can’t help but smile.

It’s just Joshua. He’s the same…but different. He is alluring and sexy and exciting but he’s also intelligent and sarcastic and warm. He feels like home…but more.

You muster all the energy you have left in the reserves to lean up to kiss his cheek and he looks back down at you with a smile. “What’s that for?”

You scrunch your nose. “I kind of love you…or whatever.”

He licks his lips, biting back his joy and then he leans over and kisses you. “I kind of love you too.”

“I’m also…kinda hungry.”

The flat smile you give is returned in full. “So, I’m supposed to fuck you AND feed you?”

You nod once. “Yes.”

He nods back and steals another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Noodles?”

“Noodles.”

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soapskneebrace · 1 year

Text

NSFW Alphabet — Captain John Price

Pairing: John Price x AFAB reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mild daddy kink

Now on AO3!

Dedicated to @yeyinde who has been almost my sole inspiration for how down bad I am for this fucking man. (And because I know she’s working on her own version of this and I’m DYING for it.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Almost to a fault, John is both active and attentive. After he’s pulled away from you, breath coming out in heavy pants and hair mussed where you’d been running your hands through it (or pulling it—he really likes when you pull it), he’s already on his feet scrounging up a washcloth to clean up with, a sip of water for you both to get back some of that hydration that you’d sweated out, and would you like him to toss you your shirt, dove? He’s never really able to sit still on even the calmest of days, but all it takes to get him to lay back down with you is a sweet, soft plea to come hold you. John cannot deny you when you ask like that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn’t know if they’re his favorite, but John has a lot of appreciation for his hands. They’re weathered, scarred, and have carried out some of the most heinous acts a man can commit against another human being, but you also mewl and plead for those hands to touch you, to hold you tighter, to pin you down and mark you up. John uses the same hands he’s drenched in blood to wring breathless, sobbing pleasure from your body, and that he can do that is something that he holds dear. When it comes to your body, John loves your neck and your breasts. He has painted both with blooms of red and purple using his lips and teeth, and love to watch your breasts shake and bounce as he thrusts into you, one hand wrapped carefully but firmly around your throat.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Given the opportunity, John always prefers to come inside you. He’ll grab you in an iron grip, thrusting with a force that you’re certain will leave bruises, and bury himself to the hilt when he hits his peak, snarling into your skin as he rolls his hips against you to milk himself with your pussy. There is one exception though: if you’re taking him with your mouth, there’s nothing he likes more than to pull out and paint your jaw with his spend. Then he’ll yank you up, hands grabbing your face regardless of the mess, and kiss you messy and stupid.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to have your ass. Perhaps not the dirtiest of secrets, but he’s rather old-fashioned, and it feels dirty to him. Also, it feels unfair, since it’s an act he thinks only he’ll really be able to enjoy. You’ll have to be the one to bring it up, but you’ll get hints from him that he’s thinking about it—he’ll frame the little ring of muscle between his fingers when he spreads your cheeks as foreplay is heading rapidly toward the main event, or he’ll thumb your perineum when he’s plowing into you from behind, growling about how pretty your ass looks bouncing against him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

John has had few partners, but plenty of sexual encounters. He is not a man for casual sex—at least, not one-time flings—and prefers to dive deep into pleasure with people that he trusts. Figuring out what makes someone tick, what makes them lose every inhibition with him, is far more to his preference. He’s learned that to have sex means to learn about someone else’s body a little more every time it happens, and that sex really does only get better than even the best anonymous hookup.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Hands down, John likes to have you on your back with your knees hooked over his elbows. Any position, really, that he gets to spread you out and hold you open is his favorite, and he absolutely wants to see your face as he wrecks you. He consumes the expressions you make with a hungry, steely gaze, and he demands more often than not that you look him in the eye when you come on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

Humor is not really his thing, in the bedroom or out of it. That isn’t to say that sex with John is always serious and intense—he cares for you, deeply, and that includes your smile and your laughter. It is more accurate to say that John is looking for that lightness after the fact; after you’ve wailed and moaned and whimpered from the ecstasy he’s drawn out of you, he wants to make sure you’re grinning and saying how amazing that was once you’ve finished. You can tease him plenty about how into the act he gets, because he knows if he takes you to bed you won’t want to leave it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

John is wonderfully hairy all over, and when he has the time he keeps himself neat and groomed (he’s already maintaining the mutton chops, after all). His chest hair is dark and a little coarse, as is his pubic hair, which strains up his belly in a happy trail that can’t quite make it to his navel. His forearms, calves, and thighs are also generously dusted with the stuff, although years of tight military gear are starting to show their effect on how fast it grows. He’s not too worried about it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He can’t help but be at least a little romantic. You’re his, and his alone, and that’s a gift he is actively thankful for every day. He is not exactly prone to sweetness, but sex with John is always comfortable in that he is always paying attention to the little reactions you give when he touches you like this or thrusts into you like that. You find, even pretty early into the development of your sex life with him, that he’s as hungry for the way you respond to him as he is for the feel of your body in his hands.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You caught him with his hand around his cock once, at his desk on base and flushed red as he fisted himself in a tight grip. He’d called you there, in fact, and it had been at the beginning of your sexual relationship with him—he’d sounded out of breath and strained on the phone, and you’d hurried there to see what the problem was. As it had turned out, he’d started jacking off under the impression that you weren’t present, and then some background mental math had resolved itself to correct that assumption. It was the first time he’d bent you over his desk, but not the last.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

John truly does not like the word daddy, but that does not inhibit his enjoyment for the dynamic. He loves your acquiescence, loves the complete faith you put in him to take care of your needs, and even loves it when you give him the opportunity to lay down the law by being a brat. It’s half about the control—the heady opiate of power met with submission—and half about getting to give you what you desperately need from him. He loves to see you come absolutely unraveled, and loves to be the person you trust to get you there.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His office is a constant favorite. He doesn’t get to have you there as often as he likes, what with the international nature of his job, but every time the two of you have been within walking distance of it, he’s had you on his desk, on the floor, and across the couch against the wall at every opportunity. He’s a horrible tease about it, too—he’ll keep you speared on his cock for what feels like hours as you cling to your sanity, one eye on the locked deadbolt, your only barrier between bliss and humiliation, as John reminds every so often, “No, dove, you’re not allowed to come yet.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sometimes all he needs to see is the offset angle of the collar of your shirt to be ready to go. It makes him feel a little crazy, like being a randy twenty-something again with a cock that worked faster than his brain ever could, but that’s just the effect you have on him. More than once you’ve met him after your shower, skin still shimmering from the humidity, smelling fresh and hair a little damp, only to have him walk you back against a wall to work up a sweat and defeat the purpose of the bath entirely.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He does not want to actually humiliate you. Control is one thing—abuse is another. In the moment, he might growl about how needy you are, how perfect you look with that fucked-stupid expression on your face, but he will have a very, very hard time calling you a slut or a whore even if you want him to. Those are words, he was taught very early, that you do not call your partner, or anyone else. Period.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

John appreciates giving and receiving in perfect balance. The picture of you on your knees, his cock down your throat as he sits with you between his spread legs, is as appealing as the reverse, and he’d never make himself choose between one or the other. When he eats you out, his arms are wound around your thighs from underneath, pulling your pelvis in closer to his face as he buries his mouth and tongue and nose into your folds. When you finish on his lips, he will not stop. He wants to hear you wailing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

It all depends on what he’s trying to accomplish. If John is trying to get you to that place where words have stopped having any meaning and you are more an experience of pleasure than a person, he’s going slow, and he’s going hard. He wants to be as drunk on you as you are on him, too, and he’s had enough experience with the best Scotch he can afford to know that that dizzy, heady feeling belongs only to an endeavor in savoring it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are a tool in his arsenal that he uses to tease you, but he ends up teasing himself, too. That’s the point, of course, but sometimes it can backfire, and that turns into a rare occasion when John is not in control, is not trying to wring every drop of pleasure from you that you can stand. When John is needy and frantic because he tried to whet your appetite and got lost in his own want for you, you find it much easier to flip him over onto his back or press him down with a hand to his shoulder, and at that point he’d do just about anything you told him if only you’d let him have you. If you want to reap the benefits of him getting you back for it, you can bring him up to the razor’s edge of coming and then leave him there for you to indulge in later. Plan not to be able to walk after the next time he gets you into bed.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

John is perfectly willing to experiment with positions and sensation play, just as an example, but there are limits to what he’s willing risk. While the fantasy of the 141 watching as he fucks you dumb is a favorite of his, he’s not actually willing to get into a situation in which that might happen, both because you might not like it and because he needs to maintain a measure of decorum as commanding officer, no matter how unconventional his methods might be. He still thinks about it, though.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He’s only getting older. He’s gotten cranky about this several times. He can manage two rounds, three on a really good day, but he thinks he should be capable of more. He wants his body to obey his own command, and wants it to be available to you, in fact, whenever you want it. You’ve reminded him more than once that he needs three squares and eight straights if he wants to actually have the energy to do what he wants to you, and neither are always readily available to him. He usually gathers you up into his arms when you say that, because in this big, horrible mess of a world he has a partner who treats him like the fragile human he feels he isn’t allowed to be.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or on themself?)

John’s old-fashioned, and the wealth of toys available today frankly makes his head spin. He’ll feel a little intimidated, too, if you consider bringing a vibrator into the bedroom with him, because it will feel a little like a suggestion that he can’t please you with just his own body. Luckily, rather than get pissy, he will communicate this, and you get to tell him that the full idea was to let him edge you with the vibe for as long as the both of you could stand. That’s a technique that fits within his tastes, and when you further inform him that butt plugs are great little tools to work up to anal sex, he gets on board pretty fast.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If it isn’t clear by now—John is merciless. He plays the instrument of your body like a virtuoso, and only hears music in your begging and pleading. He’s never cruel and he never leaves you truly frustrated and unfulfilled, because that’s not who John is, but he’s going to keep your climax out of reach until he knows for certain that finally being able to come will wreck you. How is he being unfair, he asks, when he always gives you what you want in the end?

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Normally, sex with John is punctuated with growls, groans, deep snarls, and chesty rumbling. Keeping control of you also means keeping control of himself. But. When you catch him in those frantic moments, when his hunger for you far outstrips his desire to play those games of dominance and submission, you can hear him moan and whimper and almost weep when you ply his body with your hands and mouth, when you sink onto his cock at a pace leisurely and comfortable for you and agonizing for him. He will swear all colors of the rainbow, curse and praise you in the same breath, promise to get payback and promise you everything he owns if you would please, sweetheart, just please let him fuck you properly already.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He asked Kate once—ONCE—what he might be able to do, in her opinion as a woman, to take better “care” of you. She’d stared at him for a silent, awkward, infinite moment, and when she finally replied it was to address a completely different subject. He’d downed the remainder of scotch in his glass and asked the bartender for another. The best case scenario would have had Kate pretend to forget that he’d ever so much as thought to ask her, but no—later that night, she sent him a fucking Cosmopolitan listicle, not because she’s finally decided to be helpful but because she wants him to know: she remembers. She will always remember.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

John reaches about 6 inches fully erect, is uncircumcised, and is thicker toward the base of his cock. It’s an average length and shape, but he has never been, and never will be, an average man, not on the battlefield and not in the bedroom. His balls are a little larger than average, though, and they sit low and heavy. It’s actually rather fitting, for a captain who threatened to hunt a four-star general down.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You wouldn’t know it, because he keeps it under control as much as he does everything else, but John always wants you. There are hints of it—the intensity of his gaze, the low baritone his voice can reach when addressing you even in the company of others. The way he maneuvers himself into position at your side, not so close as to be unprofessional, but close enough to feel the energy radiating off of him in waves. You always get drunk on him, on what he gives you in bed, but sometimes it’s a surprise to be reminded that he’s every bit as drunk on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Part of the reason John gets up immediately to do the little chores of aftercare, at least sometimes, is to keep himself from falling straight to sleep. He isn’t always exhausted after he’s fucked your brains out, but the world is getting more complicated. His job is getting bloodier. Someone is always screwing over someone else, and he tasked himself a long time ago with fixing all of that. He has to be able to get up and do it. It’s why he’s honed the control he has over himself to such a sharp edge. It’s why, when he finally lets go and lets you take the reins, he’s never as mad or as frustrated about it afterwords as he is in the moment. But he really needs to be reminded that he’s allowed to rest. That he’s allowed to settle into the comfortable afterglow, to breathe in silence just for a little while. In the end, you have to be the one to ask him, wouldn’t you like to lay down with me, John? Wouldn’t you like to just hold each other, for a bit? And always, his answer is yes. When you ask like that, soft and sweet, he cannot deny you.

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meiru-sama · 10 months

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♡ Yandere Neighbor ♡

This story contains: yandere behaviour, obsession, sexual harrassment, non/con stalking , age gap.

You stared outside of your window, staring at a fine man with jet black hair. You smiled while he entered the house across from yours before you grabbed your phone and started to text your friends, telling them how hot your new neighbor was but you pause when you saw his green eyes landing on you, a was platered on his lips. You averted eye contact while you can feel your face getting hot.

The next thing you know is that you are sitting on a couch while carrying a plate full of cookies on your hand and a cold sweat running down your cheeks. The male who sat across of you gave you a charming smile while you placed the plate in the coffee table infront of you.

"Name's Ethan." He started, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "(Y/N), it's nice to meet you sir Ethan." You said, smiling as Ethan grabbed a piece of cookie from the plate then placing it on his mouth to take a bite. "Your mom made this?" He asked, licking his lips while you nodded. "It's very delicious..you should tell your mom to often give me sweets. I like what she makes."

A blush formed your cheeks before muttering a yes. "Anyways (Y/N), you should tell me more about yourself." The black haired male said while he sat beside you. "What's your age sweetheart?" You shifted uncomfortably before responding. "Im still 18 " the male hummed in response, eyeing you up and down. "Ooh, you are still 18?" (your body tells me me you are not.)

"How about you sir Ethan?" You asked while you tilted your head. "Well it's a secret cause i know im pretty old and i hate to admit it." He dramatically said making you chuckle. "But i used to be a teacher." "Looking at you. I feel like you're already 24 years old." You guessed, a soft smile still plastered on your lips. "Close, but im actually 26" he chuckled. "Wow, you are pretty old!" You said making him wipe a fake tear dramatically, you laughed at his actions while he joined you. But suddenly you were surprise when you felt a weight on your thighs, you looked down and saw the male's hand resting on your thighs.

You gulped, thinking he just did it accidentally but you felt his hand brushing in your thighs making you pull away from him. The male looked at you with his eyes, a glint of lust and hunger beautiful green orbs.

You were about to stand up but then he pulled your wrist, forcing you to sit down on his lap. "Where do you think you are going bunny? Let's have some fun." The black haired male cooed in your ear making you shiver while his hands started to make its way up to your chest. "Let me go !" You shouted while you tried to get away from his firm grip. Ethan just chuckled and started to attack your neck making you moan in pain as he started to bite and lick a spot. God your moans make him more hard than he already is. He traveled his hands again to your thighs, brushing his hand between your legs.

"F-fuck." You cursed, still trying so hard but finally you manage to escape his grasp. You quickly slapped him with all your strength, his head whipped to the side, his now black hair covering his eyes. You quickly run back to your own house while sobbing, you entered the family house and you find no one, not even your mother so you had no one to comfort you. You quickly locked all the doors and windows before you made your way up to your room. You laid on your bed and wrapped your blanket around you figure while hugging your stuffed toy. You grabbed your phone from the small table beside your bed, calling your bestfriend to come over. They were the first one you call when something is bothering you or you needed a shoulder to cry on.

____________________________________________

A male with glowing green eyes stared outside of his window. He was staring at your room's window, it was dark inside but he can still see your figure. You were still sobbing while you took off all of your clothes making the man quickly grab his camera and he quickly took a picture of you with a grin on his lips.

He then placed his camera back to where it belong while you went to the shower, tears still streaming down your face. You hated it. You hated how naive you are, how you quickly trust people and how he touched you. It was disgusting. You choked a sob while you sat on your bathtub, your nails running deeply to your skin, to where he touched you.

. . .

The black haired male softly laughed while his heart started to beat faster cause of excitement, crimson blush started to adorn his cheeks.

"Finally.. i found you."

(This is not the part 2 of the demon!)

#yandere x reader #non/con #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere x you #dark romance #obession #yandere stalking #x you

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leeehye · 10 months

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Sweet Truth - pt.2

“…I couldn’t let her see my true self and now she has this impression of me”

Summary pt2 ~ The next day things at the office things get tense when Y/n is offended before meeting. She questions why Mr. Choi (Seung Cheol) is undergoing strange changes

Warnings ⚠️ ~ fluff☁️, angst, may contain some smut in future parts, language, sexual assault ❗️- enjoy

a/n - it is finally here! I’m sorry it took long and I’m sorry if it seems like it’s all over the place but it will all connect! Thank you for all the love to part one! 💕

pt.1 recap (continued)

His gaze was fixed on me. He was hesitant to say whatever he wanted to say. I looked at him with innocent eyes ready to hear him.

“Um…I’ll see you tomorrow Miss Y/n” he said gently, patting my shoulder with his large hand and making his way around the car to the driver’s seat.

“Oh yeah! Yes sir goodnight! And I apologize again for my mom” I said with a nervous face and he gave me a small smile while getting in his car driving off. Releasing a sigh I whispered to myself

“Y/n what you were you expecting to hear from him...”

Next Morning

The next morning was like usual, everyone in their business and quietly working, meaning Seungcheol was here already. Setting down my bag on my desk I sat down and started to look through today’s schedule and started humming softly.

So focused on taking some notes my nose caught the smell of really nice cologne, gentle yet strong and…manly. It was bad that I knew who that was. I looked up and saw Seungcheol right next to me.

“Ah! Seung— Mr. Choi!” I exclaimed, jumping from his closeness. Clearing my throat hearing the awkward situation and workers now looking at us, I straightened my posture and looked at him.

“Um do you need anything sir?” I asked softly and he shook his head before checking his watch.

“Looks like you slept in today Miss Y/n…I was waiting for today’s schedule…” he said in a cocky voice I frowned, my eyebrows confused and quickly grabbed his hand looking at his watch. What was I thinking?

“Holy sh— so sorry sir I lost track of time!” I said gathering my stuff.

“You have an important meeting in like…less than... 5 minutes…” I said quickly, sprinting off to the meeting room.

In exactly 5 minutes all the executives walked in and some of them were already there. I was still setting up the projector, arranging the folders and just making sure everything was ready for Mr. Choi.

“You must be Mr. Choi’s new assistant” a male voice called to me and hearing my boss’s name made me turn. It was an older man, the important man that we were supposed to impress today. He was offering a great deal to Seungcheol.

“Oh um yes sir, I’m Y/n, Y/l/n Y/n” I said politely bowing my head. Before looking at him.

“That’s nice sweetheart, you’re a bit young huh sweetie?” he asked while some of his friends started to chuckle and some of my coworkers looked at him weirdly. I started to no like this guy.

“Um I’m Y/n sir…Please call me like that or just Miss, if it’s easier…And yeah I am young, yet Mr. Choi has never had a problem with my work” I said with not a harsh voice but not a soft one. I had to defend myself with this old dude.

He scoffed and started to eye me, his eyes moved down to my legs and towards my chest. I rolled my eyes and continued with my work. Yes I was uncomfortable, but it was still my job and I had to do it for Seung Cheol.

“Does Seung Cheol pay you well? I mean…unless you’ve already asked for a raise, you have the key to that” he said and I had lost it. I slammed the folders on the table and I was about to make my way to him but Jeonghan came in quickly held me back.

“Let go Jeonghan! this sick pervert is not even here for work!” I exclaimed glaring angrily at him as Jeonghan had his arm wrapped around through my stomach and waist and grabbed my slapping hand with the other one.

“Y/n please let’s just get out of here—” Jeonghan whispered, trying to avoid a big conflict. I was still struggling in his grip and the man laughed.

“Isn’t she a feisty one?” he said and kept on with his disgusting glances.

“Listen you idiot I don’t care if you’re Mr. Rich, Damn millionaire or whatever you are! You are a pervert and I know that you are married, you are disgusting!” I yelled pointing at him and Jeonghan’s grip slowly lightened and my eyes slightly glanced seeing Seungcheol already by the door. He had heard everything I just said. Shit! I huffed softly and stomped my heels as I started to walk to the door.

Stopping in front of Seungcheol I make a 90 degree bow.

“The projector is on, now excuse me sir. I can’t stay at the meeting I have…a…complaint to make” I said, squeezing my hands into fists, before leaving, not making eye contact with Seungcheol not even once.

30 minutes had passed and I was by my desk standing up. I couldn’t stay sitting down. It was impossible, I was anxious to know if that bastard would accept Seungcheol. Or if I had ruined it for him. God he will probably fire me.

I started to chew on a cuticle and suddenly the door opened, making me slightly jump. It was the perverted man from earlier. He walked out of the room, glared at me and walked away to the elevator followed by his workers. I didn’t know what to do. Should I go check on Seungcheol? I debated with myself for a few seconds when I saw Seungcheol walking out, and I quickly turned and pretended to arrange some papers. He said nothing to me and went into his office slamming the door.

There was mumbling from the people around and I saw Jeonghan walk out with his iPad. I made my way to him quickly tugging on his sleeve.

“Hey, what happened? Am I fired?” I whispered to him and he looked around grabbing my arm pulling me to the breakroom.

He was making me more nervous than ever, I looked at him with full attention.

“God Jeonghan! What happened?” I asked, slapping his arm gently. He looked at me and shushed me.

“I didn’t want to say it with everyone around listening, Mr. Choi wasn’t accepted with Mr. Kim, the guy you almost fought…hey let me finish” he said stopping me from arguing “he didn’t get accepted because he declined it, and threatened Mr. Kim with what had happened…he was on your side Y/n, he will make sure that other companies break partnerships with him” Jeonghan finished and I froze on my spot.

“Woah, wait what?” I managed to say still in shock of what I had just been told. Jeonghan gave me a few more details but I was lost questioning why Seungcheol was becoming nicer. It wasn't normal for him to put an employee before his own advantages for the company. But him defending me was quite a nice quality of him.

Minutes later, I had to go into Seungcheol’s office and I didn’t know if things would be awkward and had no idea what to expect. Should I ask him about it? Ugh whatever Y/n, Jeonghan told you what happened it can’t be bad.

I gave myself a pep talk before knocking on his door gently before walking in seeing him drawn into work that he probably didn’t notice me. His eyes finally left the screen when he heard my heels tapping against the floor.

“Um…hello sir, I need you to sign these papers…” I said handing him a few folders he hummed quietly and took them and started to read through them.

“Also sir, do you want me to start on something for the new project…with um Mr. Kim?” I asked gently, smoothing down my skirt. He frowned and looked up at me.

“No…The partnership was canceled…” he mumbled before signing the papers. I had decided to risk it and ask I wanted to hear what Jeonghan said from Seungcheol’s mouth.

“R-really um…why? it was a big opportunity for you—” I said softly and he closed the folders handing them to me.

“It wasn’t the best for the company…” he said and my shoulders dropped down. I slowly nodded but didn’t believe him one bit not because I already knew the truth but because he was a horrible liar.

“Mr. Choi…tell me the truth…a really honest truth” I said politely looking down remembering the scene I made earlier.

“Like my truth is…I was really offended—” I continued but he cut me off.

“No Miss Y/n…you did the right thing,” he stopped letting out a sigh. “I declined the partnership because one, it would be bad reputation for us to accept someone like him and two...you would have to be dealing with him...” he said and it caused a smile to form on my lips.

“But um, are you hungry? I think it’s been a long day…let’s go and eat something…it’s on me” Seungcheol said and stood up, I had to say this man was huge yet he was starting to show the sweet side of him.

“Oh sure yes…” I said politely, I really couldn’t say no I was starving.

-restruant-

Later we arrived at the restaurant and it was fancier than I thought. I had already seen myself in a fast food restaurant, I seemed to have forgotten that I was eating with Mr. Choi Seungcheol. He didn’t seem to eat fast food.

looking at the menu I started to panic, the prices were so high! I heard Seungcheol chuckle and I looked at him.

“Pick anything you want, I told you to not worry about paying” he said with a small smile on his face.

“Seungcheol the cheapest thing on here is sushi and it’s not even that cheap!” I whispered yelled making him smile wider and my eyes went wide.

He had such a pretty smile, one that I had never seen in him. He seemed to notice and quickly went back to his serious face.

“No, I…sorry you have a pretty smile sir” I said shyly as he took a sip of his wine.

“I’m flattered Miss Y/n” he replied with a gentle smile making me giggle.

“Oh and sir, I’m sorry if I was the one to ruin the opportunity you had…it was probably worth millions—” I said, bringing up the event from earlier. He gently raised his hand and stopped me.

“No…please…forget about it Y/n…um I guess taking you to lunch can be an apology for that man…” he said softly to me. “So what are you going to order?” he added as his eyes sparkled.

“um the chicken parmesan something ?” I said, trying to read the name making him chuckle again but he quickly stopped.

Lunch went by amazingly. We talked about embarrassing moments at work and in our childhood. We also got a bit into our personal lives. I was starting to feel comfortable with him, I felt like you could tell him anything and he would keep it. He gave me that security.

“…so yeah my parents are divorced and my relationship with my father is bad…like I told you yesterday” he recalled and I nodded while listening to him.

“Everything has to be perfect for him and well I inherited the company from him and he taught me all the way through, making me into “arrogant and stupid boss "" he said and I quickly covered my face in embarrassment.

“No sir, I didn’t mean it like that…um I was immature and well you gave that impression I mean— well about your father?” I said, trying to avoid talking about my opinion on him.

“Well the thing is…I guess my father taught me the cold and arrogant mindset you know? I lost some friends when I entered the company and drowned myself with work, and the only one that stood on with me was Jeonghan…and I think it also affected my…love life” he said and the last few words made me stop chewing swallowing hard.

“Did your father make you break-up with your girlfriend?” I asked, feeling curious and he shook his head.

“N-not exactly, I couldn’t let her see my true self and now she has this impression of me” he said softly and I had a feeling in my gut of what he might be trying to say. I opened my mouth to ask a reassuring question but my phone went off.

Incoming call…

Vernon 😎

“Oh I’m sorry…do you mind if I take this?” I asked softly. Seung Cheol's expression had changed into a neutral tone and just hummed, I bowed my head and slightly turned.

“Hi Vernon! What’s up!?” I asked with a happy voice smiling.

“Hey! Can we have our movie date tonight?” he asked, chuckling while I playfully rolled my eyes.

“It’s not a date Vernon, but yes we can, I'll see you around 8?” I asked him and he agreed and I hung up, turning back to Seung Cheol. He was quiet and now looking towards the group of guys playing the music.

“Um sorry sir, he calls at the worst times” I said giggling and he looked at me.

“It’s fine, he’s your... boyfriend it seems…” he mumbled coldly and I bit my lower lip gently. Thinking to myself that the old Seungcheol was back.

“Um no no…we’re just friends, he’s not really my type” I said softly shrugging my shoulders shyly.

Seungcheol looked at me, realizing that I was telling the truth. And it was, I was not interested in anyone right now. Vernon was my childhood friend and he was a bit clingy. My past experiences with men weren’t as good.

“hm then what’s your type Miss Y/n?” he questioned me and goosebumps spread throughout my body.

“oh well I think I go for the mysterious and quiet guys that turn out to be the sweetest, I like puffy long hair, um he should be tall, but the outside doesn’t really matter as long as he truly loves me and cares for me” I said smiling blushing lightly looking down.

“hm I can probably qualify on some of them…” Seungcheol said leaving me with my eyes wide open. He should really stop this, I still had that grudge against him but how he was behaving was turning him into my type.

Bonus Part!

Seungcheol’s POV

My body froze from the sudden warm touch of her hand grabbing mine. Her worried face looked so adorable on her I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself seeing her running to the meeting room.

I placed my hands in my pockets still having the sensation of her hand on mine, a good sensation.

I had never felt this warm before, she is a ray of sunshine to my cloudy days. She still panics when she makes a small mistake. I guess she is still scared of me I can’t forget the time I underestimated her abilities, she’s an amazing assistant. Not only in conducting my schedule appropriately, always punctual but to assist me in a way of honest company. Though I don’t think she notices. But my thoughts vanished when I heard yelling (her yelling) from the meeting room.

“... I don’t care if you’re Mr. Rich, Damn millionaire or whatever you are! You are a pervert and I know that you are married, you are disgusting!” I was standing by the door with shock spread all over my face. I had never seen Y/n this angry, she had a good reason though.

She got silent as soon as she saw me and made her way to me, apologized and left. I cleared my throat and made my way to the front, closing the door.

“What happened here?” I asked coldly looking around before stopping looking at Mr. KIm with a death stare.

“You should pick better assistants Mr. Choi, I get that she is really attractive but don’t just pick any girl to take her to bed” he said, not even feeling any shame. I scoffed quietly before leaning on the table on my hands.

"you are mistaken Mr. Kim she isn't just any girl...she is my trusted assistant and I ask you to respect her," I said coldly and he rolled his eyes.

"You're kidding huh?" he asked me starting to raise his voice but I stayed calm and looking at him without expression. "I don't joke around at work Mr. Kim, consider our deal off" I said and he stood up.

"You have no idea who you are dealing with!" he yelled at me and I checked my watch. "yes I am dealing a pervert, for that reason I would hate to work with you. This better be a good lesson for you to not mess with Y/n, I care for her and I will not let anyone disrespect her" I said coldly, his face was full of anger as he took the folder throwing it at me. I sighed before turning to Jeonghan as Mr. Kim kept arguing.

"Jeonghan, send a message to all of our partners to cut business with Mr. Kim, make sure you include the reason, have a good day Mr. Kim" I said and he kept yelling before walking out shouting profanities.

I sighed and pushed my hair back frustrated, Jeonghan looked at me.

"You did good, he was being an ass to her" he told me softly and I nodded.

"I know, I will never let anyone hurt her..." I said and made my way out of the room and into my office slamming the door. Face palming myself.

"Fuck, Seung Cheol, you're falling for your assistant"

To be continued...

Sweet Truth - Part I

Taglist

@lol6sposts

(Taglist is open! Request to be added!)

#scoups #scoups x y/n #seventeen #svt scenarios #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #jeonghan #svt scoups #svtedit #svtcreations #seventeen scoups #seungcheol smut #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #vernon #seungcheol #scoups imagines

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chimcess · 5 months

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→ Chapter 3.5: When She Sees Me Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff Word Count: 1.8k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Park Jimin is the man who's in love with her, and when their worlds collide in tragedy, he must decide if he is willing to put his old life aside to make a new one. Warnings: Jimin POV, Kissing, talks of sexual feelings (not exlipict), I love this man with my whole heart, just a boy in love, takes place at the end of chapter three of the main storyline, THAT scene, FLUFF, This was so much fun to write, to be in wolf Jimin's head... the dream. Disclaimer: While you don't have to read any of the series to understand what's going on, it won't make a ton of sense. I highly recommend reading this in conjunction with the original work, Trees That Wheep. A/N: On the first day of Christmas Lex gave to thee... Jimin's P-O-V. Thanks so much to everyone who participated in the poll I held. Hope this meets expectations despite her being on the shorter side. Happy holidays and stay safe.

|| Chapter 3 || Masterlist ||

“Yours must be very interesting.”

I shook my head, “Not really. Mostly the angsty ramblings of a teenager. Nothing more.”

I sounded convincing enough. I heard Jimin shuffling around but refused to look his way. Deciding that I was done for the night, I began closing and stacking the grimoires I had taken out. I will sort through them later. Glancing at the walls, I could not tell what time it was but knew it had to be close to sunset. I needed to get to my room soon.

Going to turn, strong arms found themselves resting on either side of my waist. Shocked, I turned my head to find Jimin standing directly behind me. His chest pressed against my shoulder as I turned to face him. He had never been so close to me before.

Jimin’s POV

Her chest felt soft against me, and I struggled to keep my nerve. Walking over here had been impulsive, my feet moving before I was able to think it over but having her between my arms made the potential embarrassment worth it. She looked so lovely in the candlelight and whatever she had been reading caused her shoulders to tense uncomfortably.

Her eyes were wide, confused, and could not find a point of my face to stop on. I could hear her heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings and her scent made me force a groan back. She was so sweet, like vanilla, with an almost bitter aftertaste. I would compare it to whiskey but that was too strong. Tobacco, cotton, and vanilla came to mind.

“Jimin?”

She was so gentle when she said my name. Caressing it as if it were a precious secret. I leaned into her, wanting to hear her heart beating closer still. Drunk off of her presence, I found myself talking.

“Can I tell you something?” I whispered, just as softly as she had said my name.

Our chests touched and I moved my hands behind her back. Wrapping around her, I forced my hands onto the table. I was itching to hold her tightly but I was afraid of what might happen. Placing one hand on top of the other, I felt myself trembling. We had never been so close, and only in my dreams did I think this possible. Bridd refused to look at me, her breathing as heavy as my own causing me great pleasure.

“Y/N,” I called to her, hoping she could hear all the ways I loved her within it. “Can I?”

Eyes locking, I had to grip my fingers to keep them on the table. I could smell the faintest trace of her arousal and it took all of my self-control to ignore it. She shivered against me and I knew she was feeling the same electricity that I was. I could hear her swallow, something I found oddly arousing, and she nodded.

Something was crossed tonight. The lines I had meticulously placed between us for years had come crumbling down ever since the day I came here with Hoseok. There was something about watching her walk around her home, her feet unable to stay still, while she worked that had struck me. Feeling her eyes on me, knowing that she wanted to watch me just as much as I wanted to watch her, unleashed this animal. The more primal part of my personality wanted to shout at Hoseok to leave us alone so I could take what was mine. The other side, the man, wished to sit and listen to her talk about the knives she loved to make, to ask her all of the questions I had been dying to have answered, and watch the way her eyes lit up. Realizing that we would never go back to a time before this, I decided to be upfront.

“I enjoy your company,” I had to tell her.

She nodded, dazed. Her eyes did not leave my own and she searched, ever the curious girl, for something. I had long ago stopped trying to figure her out. Instead, I hoped that she would tell me. I wanted her to want me to know her. With that in mind, I decided to destroy the walls between us.

“I like being close to you. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” She replied breathlessly, needily.

I leaned into her, drawing closer. Her eyes were hooded, heavy, and the lust within them brought me to my knees. She wanted me so badly, the smell of it clinging to the air adding another layer to her familiar smell. It reminded me of sea salt. I swallowed thickly and leaned in closer. Not tonight, I told myself, the grip on my left hand painful now. I could wait for that. I had been waiting for her for so long.

“Do you want me to stop?” I whispered, so close to her lips that I could feel the ghost of them against mine.

I felt her hesitate. This was nothing new. Bridd had always kept her emotions for me on a tightly controlled leash. It had bothered me for a long time until I realized that she might have thought them foolish. I had never announced myself or made an effort to get closer to her. My own fears made me weak, but to have denied her this made me feel half a man. How could I have ever taken this choice from her? From us? Foolish.

“No,” She said, her eyes already closing.

It would take less than a second of a second to lean forward. Such a small, inconsequential gap in time. A blink and it was gone. Nothing. However, as I leaned in I knew this small space would be burned into my mind. The anticipation, the way my heart sang and my hands trembled. Our lips brushed and my knees went numb.

Kissing her was unlike anything I had ever experienced. She was so soft, so warm, and frail beneath me as I struggled to keep myself at her eye level. Bridd sighed, her hands finding home on my chest, and I could no longer keep myself off of her. Wrapping her in an embrace, I wanted to cry from joy. Everything that I had ever wanted, wondered, and fantasized paled in comparison. None of it did this moment justice. With her hands twitching against me, her lips chapped, mouth dry, and breathing into my mouth each time we pulled away, I was certain I had never done something so right in my whole life.

She finally started pulling away, and I opened my eyes to watch her. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were glazed and not even half way opened. Staring at her, the candle light making the beads on her top shine prettily, all I could imagine to say was that I loved her. Instead, I bent over even more and nuzzled my nose into her hairline.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, already thinking about kissing her again.

She, again, nodded, before leaning into me once more. Tiptoeing to reach my face, hands traveling from my chest to my shoulders, her eyes closing. Cupping her face, so small and delicate beneath my hands, I pulled her to my eagerly waiting lips. She grinned against me as I tangled my fingers in her hair.

Suddenly, I felt her tongue licking at my lower lip and the delicate balance I had been desperately trying to keep since I approached her tipped. With a strangled groan, I opened my mouth to hers and slid a hand from her hair to her hips. Sucking her tongue, I picked her up off of the floor and lifted her onto the desk she had been occupied with all night. I did not even think before my leg was forcing hers apart and making space for the rest of me.

Her hands gripped my shirt tightly and I wished she would go back to twitching against my chest. She felt more solid there, more real. Her mouth was wet and hot as we kissed, her tongue hesitant and shy while I knew I was being more aggressive than she was used to. Thoughts of her kissing another made me uncomfortable, so I kissed her even harsher to remove whatever they may have left behind.

Then she was shoving me away, ripping her lips from mine as she struggled to catch her breath. I took a few steps back, unsure what the problem could be. One look at her, however, and I was sure. The change was coming.

“Go,” She choked, scrambling off of the desk.

A loud piercing scream called me to action. As much as I hated leaving her in moments like this, I knew it made her uncomfortable to have me around. Her comfort would always trump my own needs and wants- that I was sure. Running up the cellar steps, I threw open the little door and threw myself onto the living room floor. Closing the door, the tortured screams of my love were muffled.

My heart shattered as I listened to her, but I knew it would not last long. A few feet away, Taehyung slept soundly. I envied his ability to do that. Ever since I got here, I had found sleeping restless. With Bridd so close yet so far away it was impossible to relax.

A large, toothy grin overtook me. I would never sleep without her again. I would try my hardest to be sure of that. Her lips lingered on my own, tingling and swollen, and I never wanted the feeling to fade. I would make sure I always felt this way, every day, for the rest of our lives.

I could see it now, living here with her. We would cook dinner together, eat together, sleep together. For Yule we would put up a tree. For Litha I would tend her garden while she watched me from the window. We would have children, beautiful children that looked like her, and love them the way they deserved to be loved. My family would learn to live with my choices and my pack would always be my own, but I needed to be where my heart was.

As her screaming turned to throaty croaks, I was settled. I would put my heart on my sleeve. For her, I would beg. What should have been said the second my wolf threatened to rip apart anybody who stood between us in that cave. When I nursed her back to health as she lay half-alive in her bed afterward. All of the times I had seen her since. Every dream, nightmare, and fantasy in between.

Tonight, I would tell her that she was my mate. Tonight, we would never part again. Tonight, I would love her and hope she would let me. Tonight, and every night, I would fight to make her see that no one has ever loved another the way I love her.

@greezenini@adventures-in-bookland@kthstrawberryshortcake-main@zae007live@jimin-neverout@nikkiordonez12@canarystwin@yamekomz@chimthicc@michiiedreamer@amorieus@mima795@yunki-yunki-yunki

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pillow-anime-talk · 8 months

Note

Hello! For your event can i request 45. “Should I fuck you? So beg for it.” with Haruomi Shingu? Thank you very much!

# tags: scenario; kinda friends with benefits; roommates!au; hot romance; smut; pwp; adult!reader; but still age-gap (10 years); nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual acitivities, from dry humping to lazy sex, sex on the couch, sloppy kisses, hips gripping, kinda daddy kink

includes: gender neutral reader ft. haruomi shingu {paradox live; buraikan}

author’s note: he is so fine...

45. “Should I fuck you? So beg for it.”

It was the most ordinary Friday in the world, and there was nothing to indicate that you were doing anything more that day than making yourself warm dinner, cleaning your bedroom and turning on the latest Netflix series, which premiered since March last year. You recently came back from work, your back hurt and all you wanted was a hot bubble bath, a glass of sweet wine and some peace in the presence of cherry candles. However, plans changed as quickly as the weather outside the window; suddenly the clear blue sky was covered with dark clouds and Japan was covered with torrential rain.

“Should I fuck you? So beg for it.”

That’s the change of plans I was talking about.

Instead of lying under a blanket and eating buttered popcorn, your ruddy face and large pupils were focused on Haruomi, who had come home from his restaurant. His strong, large hands held your hips tightly, and you moved your body, rubbing against the swollen cock hidden under the fabric of black very tight pants, decorated with a belt with silver elements.

You and the man lived together for several years – your presence did not bother the other person, you often passed each other in the corridor or in the kitchen, being from completely different worlds. He worked in a small Chinese bar, which he founded himself, and by the way he had a great musical talent. You focused on developing your career as an employee in an international company as an HR manager, and by the way you had a knack for learning languages. You were complete opposites: you were organized, had natural sleeping and eating habits, while the ten years older man suffered from insomnia and, despite running a restaurant, ate small portions and often drank energy drinks or coffee, and disliked basic household chores. Nevertheless, you got along like old friends without much commitment to each other.

Because of your jobs and way of life too, you both were quite extreme about relationships, marriage, and dating. So you entered into an innocent idea that consisted of an occasional dinner together and an occasional quickie to ease the stress on your souls and forgot about your responsibilities.

“Just fuck me, I know you want it. You can’t stop your body from responding to me.” You replied with a slight smile, pressing harder on his cock, which all he wanted was to free himself from the tight clothes. The dark haired man just rolled his eyes, squeezing the skin on your hips once again. The black T-shirt covering your chest was definitely very unnecessary. So he quickly got rid of it and then changed your position – this time you were on the couch, causing your back to touch the dark, slightly hard surface. “Please.” You gave in, purring low and looking at him with a smol twinkle in your eye. Haruomi only unbuttoned his pants, and after a short second he untied the bow made of a thin string. Your sweatpants have been slightly slid down.

From inside his wallet, which was always in the back pocket of his pants, the man took out a gold-wrapped condom, which he immediately put on his manhood. You immediately wet the underwear that was still on your hips. So you decided to speed up the process of getting ready for sex and took off your comfortable tracksuits and greenish lace panties, dropping them to the dark wooden floor.

“I’m tired and you only think about yourself.” He said in a bored voice. After a short while, he was over your body, tapping the head of his cock against your private parts. You giggled contentedly. “It’s not fun. You work eight hours per day, and I work from the time I wake up until I go to bed.” He rolled his eyes.

You lifted your hips slightly, letting him know you wanted more than stupid talk, and he sighed under his breath.

“... Don’t be so strict, daddy.” You said half jokingly, half seriously. The twinkle in his eye was far too visible. And that was quite motivating.

Haruomi spat on his hand, smearing latex with his own saliva, and then entered you in one quick move. You moaned in pleasure at the feeling of the pleasant pushing against your walls, then wrapped your legs around him.

The light movements of the hips in the next few seconds became much stronger, more measured, definitely deeper. You were in seventh heaven; a hard week at work, recent projects, home chores, meetings with friends and lack of time for yourself was finally rewarded with a moment of pleasure, sloppy kisses full of groans and pleasure touching both the top of your head and all your toes. Your breaths mixed with each other, and your hands automatically tightened on his thin shoulders and soft hair.

“... Don’t stop, please.” You asked softly while your eyelids were squeezed shut. Waves of impending orgasm pounded against your G-spot, against your thoughts. Haruomi buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it lightly and biting it from time to time. Despite fatigue, reluctance to live and a huge desire to close his eyes he was also in huge pleasure – it was perfectly visible.

He hasn’t had a partner for years, and his only distraction from work and meetings with his only friend – Chisei – was you. Your sex was pure pleasure, there was no feeling or love in it.

You both just needed the occasional moment of elation, blissful orgasm, and just the feeling of warmth spreading through your bodies.

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abbatoirablaze · 10 months

Text

The Girl With Two Dragons, Aemond Targaryen

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: mention of childhood injury/loss of an eye, teasing, sexual innuendo, incest, star-crossed lovers, angst, slapping/abuse.

“How does she have two?” Aegon asked impatiently as he watched his cousin giggling while two smaller dragons followed behind her like puppies. He looked up to his father who was talking with his uncle, “Father, why does cousin Daemhrya have two dragons? That’s not fair!”

“That is not a question to be asked at a time like this!” his father scoffed. He smacked his eldest son upside the head and walked with his wife towards the grieving family.

“Rumor has it that she’s just as evil as grandfather’s brother, Daemon,” Jacaerys sneered, glaring at the silver-haired girl who was eagerly showing the queen the trinkets she’d brought from her room for them, “and that when she was still a babe, she smothered her sibling so she could have two dragons!”

“Daemhrya is not evil,” Aemond growled at his nephew as he shot him a look, “Do not be stupid. Uncle Daemon personally saw to it that when she was conceived, he went to get her dragon’s egg. But she was so special that two were laid on that day!”

“Funny, how she has two and you have none!” Jacaerys pointed out.

“You’re just in love with her!” Lucerys mocked. He gripped his brother’s side playfully, pretending that he was his ten-year-old uncle, and his brother was his seven year old crush, “oh Daemhyra, your hair is like the silver moon. Your eyes are as brilliant as the sea. I idolize you because you have two dragons where I have none! Come, let me have you as my lady wife!”

“Boys!” King Viserys called to his sons Aegon and Aemond, and his grandsons Jacaerys and Lucerys. The boys paled, thinking that they were in some sort of trouble, but the king only offered a warm smile, unaware of their jests, “come say hello. Greet your uncle, Prince Daemon, and his daughters. It has been many years since we last saw them…but to gather now at this solemn occasion-“

“I am sorry that it had to be this way, my king and queen,” the silver-haired beauty apologized, curtsying to both king and queen while her two sisters shot sad, longing looks to the sea, “my sisters and I are most appreciative that you have shown your support in our family’s time of need.”

“She died a dragon rider’s death,” Baela commented proudly. She took the hands of her sisters and they both squeezed them in solidarity, “she was brave.”

“We can only hope that we have the same fate as her one day,” Daemhrya said sweetly, shooting her half-sisters a look, “to have two daughters that are as beautiful and strong-willed, a husband who is devoted and passionate, a dragon who is strong and swift, and a family who is loving and kind.”

The younger of the two daughters of Laena, Rhaena, reached towards her half-sister, “she had three, sister.”

The silver-haired, palest of the three girls had a tear slip from her eyes, and they hugged one another. The king and queen gave one another longing looks, and Daemon tried to stop the tear from slipping down his cheeks.

“We-we should prepare for the ceremony…” Daemon offered, gesturing to the main hall, “you all must be famished from your journey here…please…”

“AEMOND!” The younger of the sons of Viserys looked at his cousin. Aegon rushed to hold her back. His heart fell to the pit of his stomach as she looked at her half-sisters, cousin, and second cousins. Aegon couldn’t hold her back as she fell at his feet, tears slipping down her cheeks as she reached up and touched his face, stopping just below the fresh stitches, “my sweet prince, what has become of you?”

He sniffled, but said nothing, wanting to come across as a strong man for her.

“Daemhrya,” Aegon cooed, pulling his cousin from his younger brother, “this is not our place…father and mother are calling them here because of an incident.”

She looked at her sisters who were bruised, “Bae. Rhae…wh-what happened?”

The girls looked away, embarrassed about what had happened in the cave. Her father came down the stairs and she watched as he slunk to the pillars, watching the scene unfolding.

“Princess!” Aegon said swiftly, offering his hand. Daemhrya felt abandoned as everyone seemed to be shutting her out. She gave a slow look to Aemond, “I will kill whoever hurt you, my prince. My dragons will eat them for marking your beautiful face.”

“Child,” Alicent whimpered. Daemhrya looked behind herself and a blush rose to her cheeks. Alicent held her hand out to her, “do not be ashamed, princess…come…stand with me…I need your solidarity for someone has harmed our Aemond.”

“O-Of course my queen!”

Alicent gave the princess a solemn look, but held her at her side, as Aegon stood behind the chair, closer to the fireplace. The room seemed to split, with the king, Daemon, Daemhrya, and the greens on one side, while Rhaenyra stood with her sons and the rest of the blacks, the house Velaryon.

Rhaenyra gave the girl a sad look while she held her sons close, “my king…it was a regrettable accident.”

“Accident,” Alicent scoffed, letting go of Daemhrya’s hand, “Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son.”

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!”

“Daemhrya, come here, daughter!” Daemon said quietly, holding his hand out. His daughter scurried to his side, quickly and quietly making herself invisible while the two women argued, “you were not with them, were you?”

“N-no father…I was in my quarters…”

He nodded, “in the morn, we will pack and we will leave this place…being around them…the grief that they cause-“

“Aemond, fath-“

“Enough,” he said quietly, “we ride at dawn with your sisters and the princess and her sons.”

“Father?”

He looked down at his daughter and gave a heavy sigh, “my child…there is much you have to learn…but at dawn, you will meet your mother…and I shall marry her according to Valyrian dragon lord tradition…”

“My mother is a dragon rider?”

“You must never tell a soul of your true parentage, you understand?”

Daemhrya looked at the woman in front of her, bewildered, “I-“

“Your father took you away for your safety,” she said gently as she stroked her cheek, “you were born before Jacaerys, your half-brother…I-I was to have children with my husband, Laenor, but your father-“

“I think she needs not the details, niece…”

“You have two dragons because you were one of two…your brother was born still…I told your father to take you and the dragons, and act as though you were only his…I did not want anyone to come after you for our sins…”

“But…”

“Your father protected you…kept you safe from the troubles of being a child of mine. Jacaerys and Lucerys have targets on their backs because of who they are…the-“

“I have no mother!” Daemhrya said firmly, “she died when she took a dragon riders death in Veghar…”

“BOYS! COME!” King Viserys called to his two sons. The boys stopped their training and looked towards the silver haired woman who was standing with their parents.

“Who is that?” Aemond asked curiously. His brow quirked, sending his patch up slightly, and he huffed, pulling it back over his eye, “Aegon?”

“Gentle…gentle!” Alicent said quickly to her husband who was trying to wave the boys over. She gave the woman a soft look as she rushed to help the king, assisting him in his movements, “sweet child…”

“Careful, uncle!” the woman cooed, giving her elder a soft look, “you are not as spry as you once were…be gentle…”

“Gentle,” the old man scoffed, a chuckle billowing out of his throat as though she said something funny, “are you sure you’re the daughter of my brother, Daemon?”

Aemond’s eye widened as he looked at his brother, “is that…Daemhrya?”

Aegon smirked, “if it is, she really blossomed into a woman in the years it’s been since we’ve seen her…”

A stoic, lithe man appeared behind them, his own silver hair shining in the sunlight as he talked to someone else in black.

“Come say hello to your cousin, boys,” Alicent said firmly, “that means you two can stop your training for a moment.”

“Princess Daemhrya,” Aegon said, a charming air about his voice, “Is that you, cousin?”

The woman smiled, though her eyes were focused entirely on Aemond, it is indeed…Aegon…Aemond…”

The younger of the siblings blushed, “Cousin…it’s been long since we’ve seen you in King’s Landing.”

“Too long,” she agreed, “I have missed the company of my favorite cousins…and my favorite aunt and uncle of course…Dragonstone is not what I remember now that it’s been overrun by boys.”

Behind her, her father chuckled, “are you sure you want to keep her here with you, my queen?”

“I am sure,” Alicent smiled, looking to her husband. She took the young woman’s hand and looked to her sons, “boys…I want you to get reacquainted with Daemhrya. Tonight, we will have a feast, and then tomorrow, we shall hold your cousin’s first court since she’s of age.”

“Two dragons,” Aegon smirked as he watched her looking longingly out the window, sipping her wine. He nudged his younger brother, “imagine what one could do with dragons like Wyntrsun and Shaedowir. They are both under her command.”

“Careful, brother…” Aemond warned to his sibling. She is a gentle woman, as mother said. Sh-“

“I could show her gentle,” Aegon smirked, “I could show her just how gentle I could be while I impale her on my cock and fill her with my seed.”

Aemond felt his rage in an instant. Off in the distance, Veghar bellowed, feeling the anger in her master’s bones. Aegon turned to his brother fully when he heard the dragon, “oh, come now, brother. You cannot hog her now that she’s of age…your childish love has surely been outgrown.”

“I-“

But before he could contest it Aegon chuckled and shook his head, “take my advice, brother…do not waste your time. I heard father talking to Uncle Daemon. She is to become the lady wife of someone, and the union will strengthen our families ties…I jest with you, but she is not meant to be yours.”

“Cousins?”

Both of the brothers stopped their conversation and looked to Daemhrya as she turned towards them, “No one has shown me to my quarters tonight…”

“I’ve got…plans,” Aegon winked, “But I will let Aemond be ever dutiful and show you to your room for the evening.”

And with a simple bow he was out of the room. Daemhyra looked to her cousin, and stepped towards him, “Aemond…do you mind me being a bother to you?”

“Y-you could never be a bother to me, Daemhyra…”

She closed the distance between the two of them, until there wasn’t a gap between their bodies, “my sweet prince…you are far too kind to me…”

“Only to you, my sweetest of princesses!” he whispered in reply.

He was too afraid to move, too afraid of the rejection, but he felt his chest tighten as her hands slid up and cradled his face. She gently guided his face to hers, and their lips met in a soft embrace. Aemond felt a peace within himself, as his arms slipped around her waist, “Daemhrya…”

“Please don’t reject me, Aemond,” she begged through soft kisses, “my heart could not bear it if you did not love me as I love you, sweet prince…”

He broke from their kiss, surprised to think that she had the self doubt that he wouldn’t love her, “Daemhrya…yo-you are a fearless princess. A dragon rider with two dragons. You could have any man that you chose as your own…and yet you want a beast like me…you choose to love a broken thing like me.”

“You are the only thing that keeps me whole,” she whispered against his lips. Her forehead pressed against his and her hands were shaky as she touched his face, “when we were children…I almost lost you, Aemond…i-I will not make the mistake of leaving you again…”

“What are you saying?”

“I know why father has brought me here…” she whimpered, “Bae and Rhea are set to marry Luke and Jace…I will be given to the king and queen so that they may use me as a political bond to another family…”

Aemond found his chest tightening once more, “I-I won’t allow it…”

“If I have this one night of freedom, I wish it to be spent with you,” she whispered lovingly. Aemond was so taken back by the statement that he almost didn’t notice when she pushed him backwards onto his bed. He swallowed down his nervousness as she undid the corset of her dress and stepped out of the fabric. Aemond felt his cheeks go rosy as she stood naked before him. His heart roared in his chest, and he could hear Veghar mimicking another roar in the caves not too far off. She knelt between his legs and looked at him through thick lashes, “I want you to have all of me, Aemond…so that you may always know where my heart lay, even if I am not promised to your bed.”

Daemhrya looked to where her cousin should have been standing. But Aemond was nowhere in sight. Instead, she looked beside her to where her other cousin Aegon stood, in front of the queen and king. He reached out and took her hand.

“I can think of no better lady wife, and future queen,” Alicent said proudly as she looked at the two who had become betrothed, “my favorite niece, and soon to be daughter…you will make Aegon an honest husband, and an even better king one day.”

A few simple tears slipped down her cheeks, “yes your grace…a-as you wish.”

“Come now, cousin,” Aegon smirked, knowing full well what had happened the night prior. The pair bowed and he turned with her in hand so that they could leave the king and queen’s presence, so they may continue on with court. He pulled her close as they walked away, “I will be a very loving husband…and I can promise you, that with a little tea, we can overlook your little indiscretion.”

Her eyes widened and she paled, “Wh-what?”

Her hand absentmindedly went to her stomach.

“Do not think I’m an idiot,” he said in a low tone, “I know of your feelings for my brother, and his for you…”

“Aegon-“

“Address me as ‘my prince,’ princess,” he commanded with a forced smile as they walked down one of the halls. She whimpered as his grip tightened, “there will be ground rules, cousin…do not think that I will be controlled by your pussy as my weak brother is.”

“Aeg-“ but she stopped herself when he gave her a deadly glance, “M-my prince….”

“Now, now, now…” he chuckled as they started for his quarters, “there will be all the time in the world for conversation…right now I want you to listen and listen well. I hope you got that little crush out of your system…because if I catch you wandering to his quarters any time after our ceremony, I will make sure you cannot walk for a week after I’ve forced enough tea into your system to be sure that you are carrying no bastard from his loins.”

“I-“

“Did I not just say for you to listen?” he questioned angrily. She whimpered to herself, and he smiled, “we will call for the maester, and get you some moon tea…and then, I would like for you to bathe me, princess as I will bathe you…so that we may become…familiar with each other’s bodies…”

“I-That is not fitting of-“

“Do not tell me what is fitting,” he scoffed, “you are just a whore who spread her legs for my brother not one fortnight ago…be honored that I didn’t tell my parents you lost your maidenhood to that one-eyed beast…”

“I-“

“Did I not just ask for you to listen, not once, not twice, but thrice?” he growled. He stopped the two of them and promptly backhanded her. She whipped around so quickly, her legs buckled and she fell to the floor. She looked up and was met with a stoic prince, “you will learn, Daemhrya…you belong to me now, lady wife. The time where you belonged to my brother is over. You belong to me now. So I suggest, you learn your place.”

#house of black #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond smut #house of the dragon aemond #daemon targaryen #aegon targaryen #the girl with two dragons

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liivzen · 7 months

Text

Sweet delights (Buggy x Shy!reader)

word count~ 1,150

warnings: oral(fem receiving), fingering, drugging? (kinda idk its like a sex drug or whateva)

authors note~ sorry this is getting out late, ya girl got busy with college and reading this very lovely ghost fic :) I somewhat edited and proofread but i guarantee i missed shit, so very sorry if i did. this miiiiight have a pt. 2 but idk yet, but enjoy <3

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

You and buggy had always had a fun and imaginative relationship. You guys explored lots of things when it came to sexual desires. Lots can be done with a man you can physically separate parts of his body. That’s not what y’all were doing right now though.

When buggy had tortured some of his captives, he had some fun ways of doing so. Sometimes those fun ways were brought into the bedroom with y’all . One of which is where you found yourself currently all tied up in.

You were on the bed you shared with Buggy, your wrist tied to the headboard of the bed, staring at the clown himself at the foot of the bed. The way he was looking at you made it feel as if you were completly naked even though you were wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of panties.

“Aww, dont be gettin on shy on me now baby.” He smiled at you while circling to the side of the bed.

You felt very vunrable in this postions, legs closed, blushing and looking away from him. He wanted you too look at him though, he grabbed your your chin and made you look at him.

“Baby, how many times have I told you not to shy away from me?” He asked looking into your eyes and caressing your cheek.

“A lot of times.” You mumble quietly.

“So why do you keep doing it hm?” He ask, this time putting his thumb over your lip.

“I dunno.” You mumble again.

He doesnt respond to that, letting go of your face and walking to grab something from the nightside table. You watch him walk back with what looks like some kind of chocolate in his hands. You look up at him with a questioning gaze.

“This baby, is something that should make you feel very nice after a little bit. Open up.” He taps your chin, wanting you to open your mouth. Trusting him you do so. The chocolate taste normal, nice and soft, melting over our tongue. After a few chews the choclate is all gone and you open up your mouth and stick out your tongue, showing Buggy you had finished the chocolate.

“Good girl.” He smiles down at you, moving to climb onto the bed.

Buggy crawled to where your legs were crossed, placing his hand on your knee gripping it with quite a bit of force. Wanting to have what little big of control you still had since your hands were tied up, you squeezed them even harder together.

“Oh baby we aren't playing this kinda game. Open them.” His tone dripping with authority.

You listen and slowly part your legs. You turn your head to the side, embarrassed that he’s now looking straight at the wet spot that is currently drenched into the cotton of your panties. Buggy doesn’t say anything though, taking this moment to trail his hands up onto your thighs, keeping your legs spread for him.

“Looks like my treat is already working its magic.” Buggy smiles up at you. You're not really sure what he was talking about, you only felt a bit of a tingly feeling starting to bloom down there.

Buggy hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs. Once they reached past your foot, he stuffeed them in the pocket of his pants. After doing that, he slid his hand back up to your spread thighs, slowly massaging as he went. All while he was doing this, you could feel yourself starting to feel very hot and breathless, your thoughts slowly becoming very fogged.

“You just sit and relax baby, I think you’re going to enjoy this show.” Buggy giggled up at you, hooking his arms around your thighs and pushing down on your stomach, making sure you stay still.

Buggy licked one long strip from the bottom of your cunt, stopping at your clit and sucking it. This made you throw your head back and pull at the ropes currently tied to your wrist. Buggy smiled at this, moving down to lick down on your cunt. You could feel his tongue moving in all sorts of ways, making all sorts of sounds come out of your mouth. At this point you think the whole town could hear what was going on in the room.

Buggy moved one of his from pushing on your stomach to down at your clit, moving in small but efficient circles. While doing so you could feel his tongue move to your hole, starting to push into you. This made you clench around his tongue and squirm around saying his name.

“Bug-“ Is all you could get out before he did one big thrust with his tongue, making you choke on your words. This makes Buggy pull away from your cunt.

“Aw, getting choked up sweetheart?” He grins at you. You couldn't respond to him, just staring at him breathlessly. He goes back down to devouring you, this time adding his fingers to the mix. He went to sucking on your clit, pushing two fingers into your cunt. This starts to push you over the edge, feeling your stomach starting to clinch up.

“Buggy I’m-“ You start to breathe out. Buggy doesn't really listen, continuing to suck and abuse your cunt. This sets you over the edge. You clench over Buggies fingers, throwing your head back and letting out a moan that you definitely know everyone could hear. Buggy pulled away from your clit, continuing to finish out your high with his fingers.

“There we go baby, all nice and easy.” He mumbles into your cunt while you start collecting your breath.

Buggy moves back from your cunt, setting back on his hunches. You felt all little with him staring at you, your juices gleaming on his chin in the little bit of moonlight coming in through the windows. You turn your head to the side, face heating up. He doesn't like that though, bending down and grabbing your face and making you look at him.

“You can’t keep looking away from me baby, don't you like lookin at me?” He questions you, keeping his face so close that his big red nose touches your nose. When you nod your head, he smiles, pushing your cheeks together and puckering your lips. His lips meet yours before your thoughts could even catch up with you. He doesn't waste any time forcing his tongue into your mouth, making you taste yourself mixing with both of your guys saliva. When Buggy pulled away, he grinned at you and blushing your face. when he sat back on his hunches he made a reach for his belt, which you gave a confused look at to him for. He saw your face and just tilted his head and whispered,

“What? You thought we were done baby?”

#buggy x reader #buggy smut #op buggy #buggy live action #buggy babbles #anime smut #anime #one piece live action #one piece

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p1err0st4r · 2 months

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☆ | author's note : this song is driving me fucking nuts. I am absolutely hypnotized by this song. But guess what ? They made me think of a fic. Might be more chapters if im not lazy enough. :33

★ | warnings : MINORS DNI ; human!alastor ; f!reader ; body deformations ; a freak show ; mentions of sex ; mentions of sexually exploiting a minor; swearing.

❝ Treasured stage light. ❞ . chapter 1

Lights , confetti , chants and applause.

Was something you dreamed of yet never saw.

Some might have thought you were arrogant , a narcissist and a rat , who merely uses her actors so she'd contrast their stupidity and ugliness to be the highlight. The main act of the show !

They wouldn't be wrong , but , there would be so much more than that to it.

You slowly turned on the radio in your humble tent as you sat down in the bed. Gaze focused on your hand as you scrolled up enough for the signal to be sufficient and hearable.

❝ You have me right here , you know , babes? ❞

Though that attention didn't always work in your favor.

❝ You better get iut of here fast , you lowlife. ❞

You got up from the bed and shoved your leg in between the mans legs , pressing hard enough to gain a painful growl from him.

❝ jesus.. fine. You fiesty bitch.❞

You watched him leave. Finally some time to yourself.

Being an owner of a freak show , in nearly perfect condition made you a star , no doubt. But with the popularity come the fans , and with the fans come the simpy men you had to fuck because you still wanted to find someone special... someone you'd love.

But you wouldn't unless they were a star and unless they shared your animalisticly wild ambition.

As you listened to the radio every evening you wondered who is the man behind your favorite show... probably someone popular , you thought. Maybe.. just maybe someday you'd get your hands on the man.

In your dreams of course.

With a playful sway of your hips you stepped to your mirror and tried in one of your hats with a smile.

❝ oh i'll be a legend !! ❞

You exclaimed... a sudden giggle coming from the direction of your bed.

❝ who's there ?❞

You asked, stepping closer before a sudden tight grip flipped you over to face the "culprit". Oh it was just your little assistant !

Dominic was your first ever "collectible" though... you cherished him the most. Being only 13 years old he was a highly intellegent and was from a wealthy family. But sadly had a cobblers chest. At first his parents were just sceptical of it but when they realized he wasn't sexually appealing to women they just decided to sell him off like a slave.

But luckily , he went into your hands. Not someone elses.

You placed a hand on his head as you both laughed in unison.

❝ oh Dominic.. you always manage to excite me.❞

The boy basicslly jumped away from you before clearing his throat. What was all the excitment about ? You thought it was about one of his "inventions" again... of these silly children.

❝ Miss Y/N. Some mysterious man came to the main tent ! He says that he wants to interview you for his show! ❞

And now that. It caught you completely off-guard. Was your show great enough to finslly hit the news papers ? Anything at least..? Whole radio programs ?!?!

Oh this is what you call success.

❝ Ah... how great ! Now come , shoo , tell him i will be there in a few. ❞

You needed to make the best first impression ever in your life, so you took your sweet fucking time picking out a dress and getting all dolled up. Anything to look perfect.

You confidently walked to the place where everyone was gathered, eyes closed out of excitment, and as you stepped inside the formed arch surrounding the man in question your eyelids fluttered open and were met with an sbsolute wonder of a man.

Dark hair , tan skin , a great build.. oh you could just rip him apart and eat him.

❝ Salutations ! Miss Y/N i presume? ❞

You weakly hid your suprise , yet still kept your ground and spoke with confidence.

❝ Yes.. and you must be-❞

You got interrupted by a sudden strong handshake and a quick pull.

❝ Alastor ! Great to make buisness with you. I was on one of your shows and i couldn't help but wonder , what a star ! ❞

Your mind went blank.

"star"

And that familliar voice.

Oh no , probably just a coincidence.

❝ oh im truly flattered. But i hope you're here to bring up buisness.❞

❝ oh yes indeedy ! It is the msot important part , is it not ? I want to know the formuls to your success ! Or rather just... could you answer a few questions? ❞

You couldn't help yourself.

You led him to your private tent.

❝ anything for the gentleman you are !❞

As you lit up a cigarette you offered him one.

❝ Oh no thank you , miss. I don't smoke.❞

❝ hm ? A shame , truly. ❞

You sat in akward silence for a good 5 minutes and all that time you couldn't help but stare at the beatiful man. They were his eyes moved , his hands neatly folded in his lap , the way his leg swayed over the other.

❝ enjoying the view , miss Y/N ? Never thought it would be your habit to stare... ❞

Alastor slowly placed a sheet of paper with 28 questions on it.

❝ i will return to you in around.. 3 days. And i'll be counting on you giving me the answers to all of these. Detailed.❞

❝ ough , so demanding !❞

❝ might be true , but it is better for both of us , is it not ? ❞

You nodded. Of course it was !

This precious man was going to fall under your spell.

He slowly stood up and walked to the exit of your tent.

❝ i hope i'll see you again , miss Y/N.❞

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frannyzooey · 2 years

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In The Dark: 7

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @mourningbirds1 for her guidance, her help and her support on this one - I am better because of her. Also, thank you to @absurdthirst who once wrote a gagging Ezra fic so good that it’s been infused in my soul - the beginning of this one is for you, Keri. Taglist coming later, thank you for reading!

One afternoon, early in his days of getting to know you, Cee had brought you home after school. It was hot – the thick kind of heat that crept into the house and filled the rooms, the kind that made his feet stick to their old hardwood floors and the two of you sat at their kitchen table with your laptops open, sweating glasses of ice water next to your piles of books and pens and notes.

The window was open to let in any semblance of a breeze, the humidity outside high for the time of year and when he walked into the kitchen to get himself a drink, he stopped at the sight in front of him.

You, eating a popsicle. Your mouth was stained red with it, your pursed lips wrapped around the frozen treat and his mouth watered at the imagined icy sweetness of your tongue meeting his. There was nothing overtly sexual about the way you were eating it — in fact, you had your head bent as you read, not even noticing he was there and he felt like a dirty old man watching you wrap your lips around it and suck — but he couldn’t look away.

You kept reading, your finger delicately skating along a line of text on an open page and when you unconsciously started to tap the tip of the popsicle against the pout of your lower lip, he had to leave the room.

It’s not warm anymore, the heat of summer fading away into crisp fall and then into the early days of winter; scarce snowflakes drifting and swirling outside the window of your apartment, the sky a bleak gray.

But yet you tap — the motion a much more conscious one now, in your worshiping kneel between his spread, bare thighs.

He’s got you in your bedroom, the hardwood floors an unforgiving dig into your knees and you make a mental note to use a pillow next time he wants you like this — which is often, given his obsession with your mouth.

You let him tap the thick tip of his cock gently against your lower lip, the stiff weight of it firm in his grasp and when you stick your tongue out to taste it, he lets out a low, pleased groan with a heavy exhale.

The light dusting of hair on his thighs slides under your grip when you push them open wider, scooting closer to where he sits on the edge of your bed and he guides himself deep into the wet cavern of your mouth, mesmerized by each disappearing inch.

“Fuck, just like that, Birdie,” he groans, his hips flexing up to push himself between your lips and when he feels the swallow of your tight throat against the rounded head, he holds there for a moment, watching.

He presses just a bit deeper and you take a deep inhale through your nose, your brow furrowed with pleasure. The pad of your thumb fits into the crease of his bare hip to steady yourself against the smooth skin.

He would feel bad about the way this makes your eyes water if he didn’t know how much you liked it. And if he himself didn’t like it so much.

“You’re doing so good.” Your throat tightens a fraction around the tip of him, giving it a squeeze and his belly jumps, a shuddering breath working its way through his lungs. “You’re gonna make me come down that pretty little throat if you keep this up. Is that where you want it?”

You can’t answer with your mouth full, your lips stretched around the thick base of his cock, your tongue rounding the weight of him and so you hum instead, closing your eyes with an aroused frown.

“Or do you want it on your face again?”

The thought makes you suck in, your thighs pressing together as you pull off him and the strings of saliva that glisten and stretch from him to you are the perfect slip when you pump him slickly with your hand, taking deep breaths.

“I want it inside me,” you answer, your voice slightly hoarse. The knowledge for that being his use of your throat makes him harder in your hand, makes the tip of him leak a pearly mess and you scoop it up sweetly with your tongue, savoring the salt tang of it. The look he gives you is almost reverential, one of awe and he reaches for you, quickly hauling you onto his lap.

His broad hands cradle your face in their hold when he pulls you in for a kiss, tasting both himself and you and if he tries hard enough, the long ago phantom sweetness of the popsicle. The memory of it makes him deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth.

Your hips are already rocking against his, your slick cunt seeking him out and when he reaches to the side to open a condom he placed on the bed earlier, you feel the back of his hands brush against the delicate skin of your inner thighs as he rolls it on. Your body knows what is coming, and when he notches himself at your entrance, he groans at how easily he slips in and fills you. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck, his other one coming to rest on your hip with a greedy grip and you start to ride him, fucking yourself deep on his cock.

“Is this how you want it?” he pants, and you nod quickly, your expression already dazed with lust as you make him stroke that perfect spot inside. Your mouth is open, slack, hungry for his when you try to kiss him. Your mouths meet, but you can’t hold it, not with how fast you’re moving your hips and he lets go of you to lean back, bracing himself on the bed. He watches you ride, your breasts bouncing with a light sway for every rock forward onto him and falling back, he reaches for you.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, the angle just right and when you start to grind on his lap to keep him stuffed inside, he can feel the curls at the base of his cock soaked and smeared with you; you’re gonna come. His hand splays firmly across your lower back, keeping you tight in place, knowing how you like that extra pressure. “I’m – I’m –”

His breathless grin beneath you tells you he already knows what you’re trying to say and you do it before you can get the words out, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulder as you cry out his name.

He likes the way you call out for him, the pleading way you say it. As if you’re falling and he’s the only one you want; an overwhelming tide pulling you under and you’re reaching just for him. He knows now when it’s gonna happen, can feel your body tense before it breaks, can feel the burst of light and wetness before you let your mouth drop open in a slack, pleasure filled shape and it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen, every time.

He gives you a second to relax your body above his and then he’s rolling you onto your back, his leanly muscled arm slipping under the crook of your knee to tug it higher. His strokes are harsh and hard, seeking his own release and his teeth grit, his jaw clenching with effort.

Pounding into you, he gives you no choice but to take it, his heavy weight pressing you deep into the mattress and your expression is one of supplication, your hands splayed on his sides to hang on. You move one up to thread into the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, the strands there damp at the root with sweat and it’s half a dozen bruising strokes with his fist clenched around your comforter before he comes loudly inside you, stilling his hips hard in their press against yours.

Your legs wind around his waist, keeping him inside. Your trembling thighs cushion his hips as you pull in shuddering breaths and he kisses you down from your joined high with a silent thanks.

For being such a good girl for him, for taking it all: him, the secrecy, what he needs to give you.

The trust you place in him is a heady feeling, one he likes. He cradles it, kindles it, blows on it gently until your aroused confidence blooms into a raging fire; until you’re shamelessly fucking his face or choking on his cock or asking for exactly what you want.

This bedroom of yours has become a sanctuary, one like his work room at his house. Here, it’s the same - those competent, skillful hands unwrapping you like an undiscovered treasure, molding and kneading and smoothing away all your hesitancy until he finds what he’s looking for underneath: your shameless, open desire. The sight of your bedroom alone arouses him now, the floral print on your comforter making his cock twitch in anticipation and he likes the way he leaves smelling like you, a souvenir to keep.

“You did so good for me,” he says, lifting his hips to slip his briefs on. He sits on the edge of the bed, his small belly a cinch when he bends forward to swipe his shirt off the floor and you watch the worn, soft fabric slip over his back, pooling there for a moment before he tugs it down, covering the last bit of tanned expanse.

He looks over at you, your arm tucked under your head as you lay there and watch and when his eyes drift down your body with a smile, he reaches out to brush his fingers up the inside of your thigh.

“This did so good for me,” he says, dancing the pads of them over your soaked curls and you grin, closing your thighs around his hand. He pinches the skin there and you laugh, letting his hand go.

“What are you going to do for the rest of the afternoon?” he asks, searching for his flannel and when he spots it, he stands, grabbing it from the floor.

“Grocery shop, maybe?” You hum, rolling onto your stomach in the slow way only a sated woman can. You stretch out like a cat, and he admires the length of your body with an affectionate smile. “Sleep, with the way you wore me out.”

You shriek surprised when he delivers a stinging swat to your bottom, and you roll back over, laughing.

“No sleeping,” he scolds, crawling back up onto the bed. His knees come to rest on the outside of yours, his hands a brace around your head. “The day awaits.”

You say nothing, instead grabbing the fabric of his open flannel and tugging him down on you, pulling him in for another kiss.

“What are you going to do today?” you ask, your voice already a murmured, distracted one. His mouth is now busy tasting the curve of your jaw, the slope of your neck. You pull your legs out from between his, wrapping them around his waist with a squeeze and he pulls back with one more savoring kiss pressed at the juncture of your shoulder, looking down at you.

“I’ve got an end table I’ve gotta finish. Then I’m gonna drive it out to the country for delivery.” His eyebrows wiggle, the curve of his mischievous smile perking up underneath his mustache. “Wanna come with? We could drop it off together,” he suggests, his hips shifting in the cradle of your thighs. He grinds them into yours, his briefs the only fabric between you. “Could fuck somewhere out in the country.”

“There’s country in this state?” You can’t imagine what it must look like, surrounded daily by anything but and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Oh Birdie,” he chides, amused. Rolling his hips against yours one more time in a lewd suggestion, he smirks. “I’ve got a lot to show you yet.”

—

Tuesday is your day off — a perfectly mundane, early in the week sort of day and he’s been coming over then, driving to your apartment and knocking on your door and slipping into your bed. Cee doesn’t usually call on those days with it being one of her heavier loads schedule-wise and so it’s become your day — just you and him.

Sometimes you don’t do anything but stay in bed: fucking and touching and kissing until you’re ready to fuck again. It’s like he can’t get enough but neither can you; no moment wasted. Your skin is smeared with him on those days, your scent pressed onto his skin, your mouth tasting like his. His limbs are sore and so are yours, along with other parts of your body, but you like the reminder that stays behind when he leaves.

Other times you go out: on deliveries with him, or around the city to various museums, bookstores, his favorite haunts. Always an unspoken agreement to stay away from the part of the city where Cee would be, he brings you to places you’ve never been in neighborhoods off the beaten path - or whatever the closest thing to that concept is in New York.

A tiny sushi restaurant only five tables big, tucked under a building, that requires a staircase to descend into its dim, fragrant depths. Musty antique stores, where he seemingly knows every owner and you listen to them chat while you pursue the old items, slowly pacing along the creaking hardwood floors. Your used bookstore, where he spends an hour whispering the most absurd names for cocks into your ear; your head tilting with a shiver under your laugh.

Some days it’s a mix of both: edging you in public to rip your clothes off the second you walk in the door. Sourcing mid century chaises in Lowertown, and riding him on your living room floor seconds after stepping inside. A French lunch from a food stand in Bryant Park before bending you over the back of the couch. Your hip bones had ground painfully into the wooden beam along the back with every harsh thrust of his inside you, but you smiled at the tender spots in the shower that night when you soaped them.

Their house is where it gets tricky.

Quick fumbles in his work room, desperate, hungry kisses when Cee goes to the bathroom, loaded looks every time you meet. One time she’d taken a phone call - another writer, from her creative class - and it took everything you had to not immediately get up from the couch and wander to find him. You waited a full minute, trying to appear casual even though every bone in your body was calling out for his and when it sounded like the conversation was getting more involved, you got up and walked slowly towards her room.

You bypassed it, striding quickly down the hall and found him on the patio out back, reading. He turned around at the sound of the glass door sliding open and leaving it cracked to hear her inside, you crooked your finger at him, beckoning him just out of sight.

You’d never seen him move so fast before.

Your back hitting the bricks as he pushed you up against the wall in his eagerness, his body crowded yours and he was going to leave a mark, the way he tasted the skin beneath your ear. You pulled his face away from it to stop him, meeting his mouth with your own. Hooking your leg over his hip, you ground yourself against him and when he returned it in kind, you’re pretty sure you would have fucked him right there if you knew for a fact she would be longer.

“You’re driving me crazy, just sitting in there. I can’t think straight with you so close. I just wanna kiss you, touch you. I wanna drag you into my bedroom and fuck you so hard that –”

You stilled him, Cee’s voice no longer heard. You gave him a pleading look, scrambling away and when you slipped back into the house, you slowed your walk and willed yourself to calm down. Turning around, you’d seen him pacing the patio silently through the glass, doing the same thing.

He was like a drug: heady, addictive, the slide of his tongue something you craved more each time you had it. Just as ravenous for you, he couldn’t get enough of the pliant mold of your body against his, the sweet taste of your breath in his mouth.

It’s your own fault. You’d let it build between you until you could taste it, let it build until you could already feel him against you if you tried hard enough, let it build until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Now that you can have him, how could you stop?

–

“You always hear the weirdest shit on the subway — and like, good for them? They obviously don’t give a fuck. Just living their lives for everyone to see, the fact that they are on public transportation just another part of their day but I also don’t want to hear about some of the stuff I hear about. Jesus.”

You find yourself smiling at Cee’s rant as you follow her into her house, dropping your bag by the door. You don’t even know how this one started, but you’re used to them by now and you make your way into the kitchen, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

It was true anyway, about the subway. The idea that people treated it as an extension of their home, sometimes. As if living in this close of quarters in the city was like you were sharing an apartment with eight million other people at all times; their dirty laundry out to air, their everyday life intersecting with yours. They ate while you studied, they slept while you listened to music, they made doctors appointments and read and held hands and cried and laughed - all on the same train you occupied.

Like vessels of human life, the entire human experience happened inside those steel cars, ones that have seen countless other experiences before yours and it was fascinating, in a way.

But you also saw some truly weird shit.

“Oh, I forgot,” she interrupts herself, tugging a folded slip from her back pocket. It’s a flyer, one found by the tattered and overlapped dozens that you find on bulletin boards all over campus. She unfolds it, handing it to you. “You wanna go to this on Saturday? Could be fun.”

“What could be fun? Can I come?” Ezra walks into the kitchen, tossing the rag he was using to wipe his hands on the counter and he comes to stand at your side. He grasps your elbow in hello, like he didn’t just have the entire bottom half of his face buried in your cunt less than 24 hours ago.

He looks down at the paper in your hand, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re going to this?”

“I guess?”

“I’m going to this.”

His answer surprises both of you, and he looks between your faces for a moment, the corner of his lips lifting in a curl.

“What, you think I’m too old or something?”

“Who are you going with?”

He answers, listing off a couple of people’s names that Cee seems to recognize with the way she nods at him and you watch him grab a can of water from the fridge, cracking it open and taking a slow, long drink.

“Well, we’re also gonna go,” Cee says, sitting down at the table to open her bag. “I don’t think we’ll be able to go together or anything. There, I mean.” She looks at you in confirmation. “I think we have a study group that night before or something?”

Ezra, still facing the fridge, idly scratches the small of his back with his thumb and your eyes fix on the sliver of his tailbone that you can see, the peek of his briefs right under it. Your heels had dug into that same spot the week before as he pounded into you, and then later, you had kneaded it with your hands while he laid on your couch and watched a movie.

“Um, yea,” you finally answer, dragging your eyes back to her. “I think so. At the library.”

“How convenient,” he smiles, turning around to face you. “My girls, spending the night at the library. How studious.”

You’re too fixated on the fact that he just called you his girl and miss his joke entirely, not getting it until he steps forward to tap his finger against the paper on the table. You look down at the flyer - the show is held at a bar called “The Library”.

“Haha,” Cee says in the most flat voice she can muster. “Can you get out of here already with your dad jokes? We have stuff to do.”

He’s still smiling, pleased with himself and when he turns to wander back to his work room, he looks back at you and winks.

–

Standing in line outside the bar, you slip your phone from your purse and scroll through your mail app again, checking the subject lines. Your breath is a white cloud of frosted warmth in front of you, your legs restlessly rubbing together to create heat against the chilled skin and Cee takes the phone from your grasp, turning the screen off.

“Stop looking for it. It’ll come.”

She said the same thing a week ago, after you waited another two to hear about your resubmission to the program and just like then, you give her a small smile and tuck your phone back into your purse. “I’m sorry. I’m just getting antsy, ya know?” You move closer to the door, the sound of people and music wafting out into the winter air and she huddles closer to you, linking her arm with yours. “I just wish they would let me know already.”

“Believe me, I’ve been there.” She pats your hand like someone much older than she is, and you smile, looking down at it. “You’ll get it. I just know it.”

You say nothing, squeezing her tighter. You’ve been on edge about it for weeks—both wanting it to happen, and yet not wanting to think about what it will mean for you if it does. The two of you take in the sight of the other people in front of you, watching them flash their IDs to the bouncer.

“Hey, so what’s the deal with that guy in our study group, by the way?” Cee changes the subject, two more people in front of you now and you’re already laughing, because you know what she’s gonna say and you get your ID’s out and ready, handing them over.

“God, the one who insists on explaining the concept of your own story to you, even when you tell him he’s got it wrong?”

A wave of body heat hits you immediately upon entering, the small space already crammed with the Saturday crowd. There is music playing - not the live band, not yet - but it’s heard loud enough over the din in the main room and it takes you a second to even spot the bar through the clusters of people.

Bottles behind him just as crowded as bodies, the bartender moves faster than you thought was possible with an apathetic look on his face and waving you forward, Cee leads you to where she’s spotted Ezra and his friends.

You’re nervous to meet them, focusing instead on the decor of the dimly lit space to calm your nerves. The scuffed walls are scrawled and covered with graffiti, the words multicolored and chaotic; some legible, others not. Shelves line the walls, an homage to the name of the place with cases jammed with haphazard stacks of books and they look both worn and untouched; tossed there for decoration, but probably also stained with beer. Carefully curated to look careless comes to mind.

A booth running along one side of the place that leads to the graffiti covered bar, the end of it iis where he’s standing and you bite your lip to keep from smiling too broadly at his blatant sweep of his eyes over your body. You knew wearing a skirt was the right choice, even if it was too cold outside for it.

His friends greet you both, drawing Cee in for hugs all around.

“You’re old enough to come out to stuff like this, Cee?” they tease, making faces at their own oldness. “Jesus, Ez.”

“I know, it’s crazy,” he replies, shaking his head. Hailing the bartender, he turns to you and reaching out to brush his knuckles against your stomach, the quick movement makes your belly jump. “What do you want?” He nods his head towards the bar.

“Just a beer. Whatever you’re getting is fine.”

“Vodka tonic, got it.” He smiles, giving you a wink and you return it with a shy smile of your own. Cee jokes with his friends while Ezra orders, his shirt pulling tight over the muscles of his back in his lean over the bar and he receives the sweating bottles a moment later, one short glass among them.

“You think I don’t see what you drink at my house, Birdie?” he teases, handing the small glass to you and you grin, thanking him for the drink.

You take a deep swallow of icy liquor; the band setting up on stage.

“Ezra, we missed you the other day,” the woman says, taking a pull of her beer. “You must have been busy or something.”

The man next to her, her boyfriend by the proximity in which he’s standing next to her, raises his eyebrows in question at her and she clarifies. “You know, last Tuesday. Afternoon, I think?” She looks back at Ezra. “I tried to give you a call, we all went out to see a movie.”

Your heart picks up speed, but he brushes it off easily. How can he always be so calm? It’s disarming, the things he can hide. “Must have been working or something. What did you see?”

The conversation that follows is an easy banter of friends, their familiarity obvious. They make reference to another time when Ezra did go with them, all of them getting high before seeing a campy horror movie and when they all laugh, you join them though you feel slightly out of place.

Cee chatting animatedly with one of them and showing them something on her phone, Ezra laughing at what his friend is saying and you take a sip of your drink, shifting unsure on your feet. You look around the space, half listening to their conversation and wishing Ezra could touch you. A physical reminder of the fact that he wants you here, you want to be claimed by him for everyone to see — but he can’t do that.

Cee, finishing her conversation, sidles up next to you and links your arm with hers. You welcome the familiar press of her body, leaning into it.

“You ready to have your ears blown out?” she asks and you laugh at her obvious excitement over the concept.

“Yep.”

–

She’s not kidding. The music louder than you’ve ever heard in concert before due to the small space, the chords reverberate through your ears and distorted riffs roll through your body, the beat of the drums pounding through your limbs. It isn’t long before Cee flashes you a smile and gets lost in the flailing mass of bodies, her tawny cap of hair among the other more multi colored ones and with one hand above her head clutching a beer, she throws her head back and laughs at something the girl she’s dancing with says. You smile, watching her.

Ezra is keeping an eye her too, but for different reasons.

A glance at his friends to make sure they are preoccupied, when Cee gets closer to the stage and further away from you, he reaches for the small of your back, dragging his knuckles across it. The crowd has pushed the two of you further against the waist high, water-ringed wood of the bar, your body blocking the sight of any movement he makes and you lean into the small reminder that he’s there, behind you.

His finger works its way underneath the band of your skirt, tucking itself neatly into the dip of your spine and when he gives the fabric the slightest of tugs, a piercing need settles heavy in your belly. You wait a moment and then shuffle your feet back.

His friend says something in a yell that you can barely hear over the music, Ezra laughing and you smile at the sound. Shifting to move out of the way when someone passes in front of you, his finger slips out of your waistband and his hand splays over the curve of your hip, keeping you in place.

To anyone else it would look like he’s maybe resting his hand on the bar behind your back, or maybe the edge of the stool next to him, but you can feel the weight of it through your shirt, the thrill lighting a path straight between your legs. You press them together when he slips his pinky underneath the hem, seeking out your bare skin.

Looking at his profile, you admire how handsome he is tonight. He listens and nods and laughs easy with his friends, the lines around his eyes deepening with crinkles and a strange sort of pride fills your chest at the idea that normally you’d be way too intimidated to ever approach a man like him if you were strangers in this bar, but he’s yours. This charming, confident man, in his tight over the rounds of his shoulders faded, years old band t shirt that you love. His dark curls are extra mussed tonight, clearly air dried in their splay over the crown of his head and the shock of white at his temple stands out in the dark bar. He laughs again, his dimple pressing deep into his stubbled cheek and you drop your eyes to look at it. Dear God, that dimple, when he grins.

You know what that dimple feels like - you’ve fit your thumb into it, fisted those curls in your hands with a tug, felt the scrape of his gray blended beard on the inside of your thighs and against your throat, circled your arms around those broad shoulders as you held on for purchase against his thrusts. It’s a strange feeling, being in a public place with him now. Like no one else knows the hitched breathing he lets out when he moves above you, or the sound of his groan when he comes or the way a fine blush creeps up his cheeks.

Smiling inwardly at the thought that you alone know those things, you go back to watching the crowd, listening to his conversation.

“Sara was asking about you,” you hear Ezra’s friend shout and you feel him lean in, listening with one ear. “I think she was hoping I would invite her tonight.”

Sara. You frown, knowing you’ve heard that name before and it comes to you suddenly - the woman at the movie theater.

“Oh yea?” he says, ever the non committal gentleman but you can feel his grip on your hip tighten a fraction, his body tensing. “How is she?”

He’s deflecting, though you selfishly wish he would be more direct and dismiss him entirely.

His friend continues. “I thought you liked her, man. She said she was waiting to hear from you, but then you never called her or something?”

You want to step away from him, but when you try, he holds you tighter.

“Yea, it didn’t really – “, he stops, unsure what to say and you think it’s maybe the first time you’ve heard him at a loss for words. “It was like a one night thing,” he says, quieter.

His friend nods in understanding. “So you seeing anyone else then, or –?”

Freezing, you wait to hear what he’s going to say. His hand stills, then slips from your hip and you feel him turn and face the bar. “I’m gonna get another, you want one?”

He didn’t answer the question.

You bring your drink to your lips, letting an ice cube slide into your mouth and your tongue rolls around it while you try to tamp down the disappointment that floods through your chest. You know he can’t say anything, so you aren’t even sure what you wanted him to do but you know it wasn’t that.

Couldn’t he have said…..something? Anything less open ended, to at least convey that there was someone?

A couple minutes pass, the music continuing. Everyone else around you carries on with their night, the bar becoming too cramped, too crowded, too hot and throngs of warm bodies press in on you, the music getting too loud. You look at the front of the bar, frost creeping around the edges of the fogged window and you need some air, but it’s too far. Turning, you place your empty glass down on the bar and start to push your way through the crowd towards the bathrooms.

Ezra’s eyes follow your back.

–

The bathroom is tight, little more than a tiny room with a sink and mirror and just like the whole bar, is covered wall to wall in graffiti. It’s even scrawled on the toilet, black, severely curved marks along the back and down the sides and the toilet paper itself hangs from a metal chain strung on the wall; the branded hand soap by the sink the only unthemed thing in the room.

You slam the door behind you, and with shaking hands, wet some paper towels with cool water, pressing them against the back of your neck. Overheated, you bite back the impulse to cry and the loud bass of the music covers the deep, steady inhales of air you pull in to calm yourself.

You know he couldn’t say anything, you know that. You slide the damp paper across your collarbones, wiping away the residual heat from the packed room and close your eyes, willing this feeling away.

This is their life, not yours. Cee is going to find out and then he’s going to break up with you. He’ll go find that Sara woman instead, or someone else who fits in with them. Someone he doesn’t have to hide with, someone who won’t hurt everyone.

You know what you’re doing is a secret, but you never imagined it would hurt so bad for him to flat out ignore what you were to him. All those days spent together on your couch and in his car and in your bed. All you’ve shared in the hours you’ve spent together, and the way he shared too. The way he felt like so much to you.

You wanted him to say it so bad.

Washing your hands, you hear someone jiggle the handle of the bathroom and before you can yell out it’s occupied, the door opens.

“What the hell, I’m –”

It’s Ezra, the dark crown of his head the first thing you see before he comes through the door, closing it behind him. You must not have locked the door in your haste, but he does.

“What are you doing in here? I don’t think we can —“

He doesn’t answer, closing the distance between you to crowd you against the wall. His expression is one of concern, yet laced with restrained lust and his hands reach for your face, cupping it with a soothing stroke of his thumbs.

“I’m sorry, Birdie. I really am. I wish I could say it.” He kisses you, not letting you answer and when he pulls back to let you breathe, he bends his head to drag his nose along the length of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your hand slipping into the crown of his hair as your body instantly responds, his touch what you’ve been longing for all night.

His hands brace on the wall behind you as he leans into you, his mouth brushing against your skin. “It’s torture, having you so close but not being able to touch you. Do you know how much I want it? How much I wanna tell them that you’re mine?”

His hand reaches for yours, grasping it in his hold and when he brings it to the fly of his jeans, you let out a whimper into the small tiled room at the firm heft cupped in your palm. “It makes me so fucking hard, Birdie. To think about you being mine.” His fingers lace with yours, pressing your hand harder against him. “Feel it.”

He grinds into your touch, keeping his hand over yours and it all happens in a flash after that — a trigger being pulled, a string snapping.

His mouth finds yours, his hands shoving the hem of your skirt up to grab handfuls of your ass and the groan that he lets out when he squeezes them is felt against your lips, sliding down your throat. He kneads the plump flesh, pressing the weight of his body between your legs to open you wider and his fingers spread you from behind, just barely brushing against the damp crotch of your panties.

“Fuck, fuck –,” he whispers, almost like he’s scolding himself but unable to stop and your hands tremble as they go for the button of his jeans, trying to work it open. He pulls away, the heat of his body leaving yours and he slides his hands under the band of your panties to rip them down your thighs and then he stands, shoving his thigh between yours. You can’t help but grind your bare, wet seam against the firm line of denim, dropping your eyes to watch as he pushes the black band of his briefs down to pull himself out. Tugging your leg up and around his hip, he positions himself at your entrance, his gaze fierce and unbearingly intimate so close to yours.

“Fuck, Birdie,” he grits, pushing in. Your twin sounds of relief are louder than they should be, but still drowned out by the music outside the door and the curve of his nose rests against the meat of your cheek, his labored grunts gusting hot over your neck. “This fucking skirt. Did you wanna get fucked in it?”

“Yea,” you moan, swallowing the hitch in your breathing. “Yes. Yes.”

The vibration of the angry chords are felt against your back through the thin walls and you tug on his hair, bringing his mouth harshly to yours. His hips rock you up the tiled wall, your bare ass sliding against it with every thrust inside and his hold on you is bruisingly possessive, shifting from the outside of your knee, to your hip, to your breast filling his palm. He tugs the neck of your shirt down, biting into the swell of it and when you cry out, he soothes it with a sweep of his tongue.

It’s a bathroom and there are people lined up outside and you really shouldn’t be doing this here but just like when he comes to visit you, he’s fucking all coherent logic from your mind, forcing you to open for him. He feels so fucking good, your strained whispers telling him so into the shell of his ear and the groans he lets out echo, blending with the muted music. You absorb them into your body, flooding around his cock at the filthy sounds and he fucks you harder, faster when he feels how wet you’re getting.

“I’m gonna come, Ezra, please make me –” your fingernails dig into his sides, your back arching to meet his every stroke. The weight of him inside you is more than you can take in this position, the fullness a tight stretch and his palm slaps against the wall, his eyes clenching shut.

“Oh fuck, I didn’t bring anything. Christ, I didn’t – where should I –”

The desperation in his voice brings you to the edge and over, him following right behind you and his head tips back with a strained groan that slips out of his throat, deep and filthy sounding. It rumbles against your chest, his cock spurting the last of his release and before he even pulls out, you can feel some of it slide hot down the curve of your ass.

He’s unsteady for a moment, a breathless laugh before he drops his head down to rest on your shoulder and when he slips out, a trickle of hot, thick liquid trails down the inside of your thigh. Your fists wind into his shirt, keeping the weight of his body tight against yours and when he looks up at you, you kiss him. It’s one of longing, bordering on desperation even after what you just did and he ends it slowly, uncaring if anyone else is waiting for the room.

Shuffling back, he tucks himself away, buttoning his jeans as he watches you wipe the inside of your thighs with a wad of toilet paper and his heart is still pounding from earlier, but now the beat is a stronger, an all consuming one as you look up at him with a smile. You toss the tissue in the can and he comes closer, pulling you to him.

“I know I can’t say it,” he starts, his mouth brushing against the corner of your lips and you lean into his embrace. You might be bare under this skirt, your panties discarded on the bathroom floor of a punk bar and this might not be the most romantic of settings, but he makes it feel so with the intensity of his words. “But you know you’re mine, right?”

You know it, can feel the evidence of it slipping out of you, can feel it in the cradle of his hands and you nod, accepting another kiss. Your mouth is pliant and plush against his, and you feel his smile in the kiss, pulling away to look at it.

That dimple again. You fit your thumb into it, and he chases the heel of your hand with his mouth.

“I gotta –,” you start, laughing in your nod towards the bathroom floor and when he realizes what you’re saying, he bends to help you step into your underwear, sliding them up your thighs. He watches you pull them up in his crouch, pressing one last kiss to the front of your thigh.

“Ready?” he asks, standing and you nod. The bar and the worry you felt earlier is miles away; your body now just as scrawled as this bathroom wall is with proof of his claim on you. The ghost of his hold on your hips, the marks his mouth left behind, the slick evidence of his want between your legs. His hand holds yours, squeezing tight.

“Ready.”

#ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra/you #ezra/reader #ezra smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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