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halsteadlover · 19 days

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𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: a TikTok trend turns out to be the best surprise of your life.

• Warnings: few curse words and dirty talking, highly suggestive at the end.

• Word count: 1040.

• A/N: I don’t know how to feel about this one to be honest 😭 Let me know what you think and like, comment and reblog if you want. As always thank you so much for your constant support I missed you all so so much ❤️

“Hi guys!” You smiled, taking a step back to show your entire frame in the video. “Come here baby,” you called Charles waving with your hand and encouraging him to come closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your hip, leaving a kiss on your temple before bringing his gaze to your figures on the phone screen.

You were making a TikTok and you had finally found the perfect opportunity to follow the trend of calling your boyfriend ‘husband’, wanting to capture Charles’ reaction really bad.

“You look divine,” he whispered in your ear, his voice so low it was unlikely it registered. You giggled as you looked at him and leaned against his body, placing a hand on his shirt-covered chest and letting the scent of his cologne invade your senses.

“Sooo,” you continued, turning back to the actually absent audience. “I’m here with my husband, we just finished getting ready for the gala…”

You suddenly stopped, no longer able to keep a serious expression when Charles turned his head so quickly you almost feared he had broken his neck. You burst out laughing when he opened his mouth in disbelief, looking at you with a shocked expression you’d never seen on his face before.

“What? What’s wrong?” You laughed.

“What did you just say?” He exclaimed in amazement and you finally turned your gaze to him, your heart exploding in your chest noticing the dazzling smile he had on his lips as he looked at you.

You giggled again. “I said my husband…”

His hand gripped your hip, fingers pressing into the straws of your dress. “Fuck say that again.”

“My husband,” you repeated, now completely forgetting about the TikTok. “Does it bother you?”

“Bother me?” Charles took your hand that was still resting on his chest and directed it to his heart. You smiled as you noticed it was wildly beating.

I guess it didn’t bother him.

He pressed his lips to yours, sucking your soul from your body with just that contact. “Again.”

“You really like the way that ‘my husband’ sounds huh?”

“Mon dieu yes…” His lips trailed a trail of kisses along your jaw to your neck. “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” he whispered in your ear and you almost fainted.

“Alright, alright, enough…” you giggled as heat spread across your cheeks, remembering your phone was still recording. You pulled away from his grip and stopped the TikTok before Charles grabbed you again and pressed his lips against yours, this time without any inhibitory brakes and not caring about your meticulously cared for makeup. His mouth devoured you, possessing every fiber of your body.

“Oh god babe…” you breathed barely knowing what even was your name anymore. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Your husband…” He sighed “That was the hottest and sexiest thing I have ever heard in my life. What are you doing to me?” His hands roamed everywhere on your body, now uncontrollable as they groped your flash. “If I had known how beautiful it sounded I would’ve done it much sooner.”

“Do what?”

He reached into his suit’s pocket and pulled out a small box, an unmistakable little box which sight was enough to give you a heart attack.

You gasped, your hands over your mouth when he opened that little box and got on his knee.

“I know it’s not what you deserve, this isn’t how I planned for this to happen and I really apologize but I honestly can’t take it anymore baby. I’ve been carrying this ring with me for months now, always waiting for the perfect moment but it never seemed to be enough because I wanted to make the perfect proposal, just like you deserve… But… God… I also know as long as there’s you and me, everything will always be perfect, it doesn’t matter the time or place that’s why I was planning to propose after the gala, I had prepared…” he spoke, his eyes still fixed on yours. “Fuck it doesn’t matter now because hearing you call me your husband even if it’s just a trend on TikTok made me regret not doing this sooner and realize how stupid I was to wait this long. I can’t wait to hear you say it for the rest of my life, so…”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You exclaimed jumping without even letting him finish his sentence, your face streaked with tears.

He chuckled, his eyes equally filled with tears. “You don’t even want me to ask?”

“Fuck hurry up and ask me so I can say yes a thousand times!”

He smiled and your whole world stopped.

“Mon amour, would you like to make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Yes fuck yes!” You screamed in hysterics and threw yourself into his arms, almost making both of you fall on the floor.

His laughter rang through the room and you found yourself leaning into him as he slid the ring along your finger, noting with so much joy it was exactly what you had always wanted and remembering how you had mentioned it only once a while ago and how he had remembered it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him until there was nothing left of the two of you but jelly.

“We’ll celebrate later baby, now get naked because I want to fuck you so bad I think I’m going to explode. And I won’t stop until you won’t even be able to walk out this room.” His hand tightened around your throat, squeezing lightly and enough to make you dizzy with desire, just how you liked it. His lips, red and swollen from your impetuous kisses, continued to caress yours, leaving you more and more impatient and eager.

“What about the gala?” You managed to ask, hoping he cared as much about it as you did. You just wanted to be with your fiancée.

I’m a fiancée now oh my god!

“I don’t give a damn about the gala or anything or anyone else other than my fiancée,” he replied and you mentally did a backflip. “The only thing I can think about right now is how good is going to feel to be buried deep inside my wife,” his fingers unzipped your dress, making it falling around your feet. “How good it’s going to see that ring wrapped around my dick.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16, @ajordan2020, @multi-fandom-lover7667

Charles Leclerc tag list: @dallaav, @softicecr3eam, @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @scaramou, @ironspdy, @earlgreyflowers, @rxclessmorgan7, @bubu40777168, @hiireadstuff, @lilithhs-world, @yujnrq, @aurora-maria

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inkskinned · 3 months

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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

#spilled ink #writeblr #personal #please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it #i really try not to write so specifically about it #bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child #i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years #i might delete this. feels big.#the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum #and if u say ur autistic #inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms #please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do #and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort.#but it still feels like...#when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing.#they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly?#and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find #the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go)#and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW."#''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.''#and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic #someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.

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chososluv · 7 months

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✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: in which i thought of Work Husband!Nanami and how supportive and delicate and how he would be and how i'd want him to ruin me and thus this came along. w.c 2.2k 🏷 tags/warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, office sex, petnames (hun, sweetheart, darling, little work wife), squirting, cremepie, dirty talk, also got excited will proofread fully later

Work Husband!Nanami: Who saw you your first day in the office and immediately wanted you to succeed greatly amongst the new hires. However you had no idea, taking his mature and direct aura personally and thinking he didn’t like you. You kept your distance.

Work Husband!Nanami: noticed you kept your distance and one day called you over. He sat you down and unprompted gave you pointers on how to succeed. You took the lesson with surprise and attempted to hide your excitement that you had been wrong. The man before you didn’t not like you. He wouldn’t take the time to give you a lesson — that you learned later he did not do to the new hires — if he didn’t like you? Right?

Work Husband!Nanami confirmed he liked you by telling you were the most impressive new hire he has seen. The compliment coming genuinely during a moment where he was admiring your work. A mock proposal and he had no critiques for this one. Versus when you first started — almost a month ago — he had plenty of feedback and concerns.

Work Husband!Nanami has to hide his excitement when you are offered the chance to stay. One of three of the twenty interns that came in, and due to your growth and determination, you earn the opportunity to score your first big person job with generous benefits. One of them being Nanami Kento.

Work Husband!Nanami offers to take you out to lunch as a celebration. Officially colleagues, you begin to let loose and relax around him. Your banter became increasingly witty and Nanami found his pants becoming increasingly tighter than usual whenever in your presence.

Work Husband!Nanami Who is oblivious to your slow testing of boundaries to see how far you could go. Your skirts became tighter on the days you knew Nanami would be working close to you — the shirts became magically one button undone whenever you were surprised with his visits.

Work Husband!Nanami catches on to your passes when you take the first step by verbally flirting with him directly. It was with the help of a little tequila, but you looked longly at his wrist, eyeing his watch one day during an after-work-drink. The pretty silver Cartier bringing attention to his prominent veins in his hand and thick digits. . .

Y/N, are you listening?”

“Sorry, was distracted by your hands.” You admit and he felt the heat flush to his face. Stunned by your words but you don’t flench, you go a step forward to bring his right hand into your delicate pair. Your soft hands running against his and he has to fight with strength to ignore that familiar tightness in his pants.

“Your hands are pretty”

Work Husband!Nanami regrets nothing happened that night between you, but he fucks his cock into his hand furiously that night, wishing it was your tight cunt riding him. Little does he know you’re riding your dildo, fucking your tight cunt on the silicone wishing it him instead.

Work Husband!Nanami plays a cat and mouse game with you. A game of flirty banter and longing gazes and touches. The two of you began building up suspense. Each day a day closer to one of you snap.

Work Husband!Nanami is surprised he snaps first. The day he snaps is the day you show up to work wearing a short skirt and high heels that accentuate your ass. It’s your presentation day too and as you turn to the side to present, your ass faces Nanami and he has trouble focusing on your topic. His brain so frazzled and dazzled by your generous rear he is digging his toes into the leather soles of his loafers. His fists tighten and you bite back a grin when you cast glance to him and see his jaw clenching.

Work Husband!Nanami has to flee as soon as the meeting is over. he quickly runs to his private office, shutting the door and sitting at his desk. he throws his head back, muttering and swearing as he spreads his thighs apart, alleviating the tightness between his legs. his mind began to wonder if he could survive the rest of the day with a hard cock and a pretty devil by the name of y/n.

Work Husband!Nanami begins thrusting his pretty pink cock into his hand. the itch and desire being relived as he thinks of your scent and what you tasted like. if you creamed or if you squirted — or shit, if you did both. he thinks about the recurve of your ass whenever he’d hit it from the back, or how soft your skin would be against his when he took you missionary

Work Husband!Nanami panics when he hears you knocking at the door but nevertheless says you can come in. When you do, you lock the door and immediately walk over to his desk. You sit down in the chair on the opposite side, pouting dramatically.

“How can I help, y/n?” Work Husband!Nanami asks of you and you only continue pouting. A dramatic, and comedic, sigh escapes your mouth and you cross your legs. A sudden cold draft due to your plan you had in motion before you entered his office.

“You left before saying anything to me.” You say rather needy but Work Husband!Nanami can’t help but feel entranced by your tone. A moment he realized he liked this bratty side you were displaying. However, he clears his throat and sighs.

“I wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t about you, darling.” He assures and you can’t help but feel guilty, oblivious that he was just beating his dick to the thought of your scent. You jump up from the chair, placing your hands on the desk and leaning forward. You unintentionally show him a charitable view of your breast but he tries to remain holding eye contact with you.

“Kento, I’m sorry I’m such a terrible work wife.” The first time you let the phrase fall from your lips and he chuckles. He’s well aware of the phrase, overhearing you loudly proclaim he was your work husband to coworkers not knowing he was on the others side of the wall. He waited for the day you would say it to him and today you finally did. . .

And for some reason, that really did it to him because felt his cock twitch in his trousers and then he finds himself looking at your breast briefly before speaking.

“Work husband, huh?” A soft smirk toying at his lips and you can't help but nod in confirmation.

"Yeah, don't you know?" You toy with him, an attempt to remain in control at the situation and you pass it off as flirty banter. He can only smile at you, tapping his hands along his desk as he speak his next words.

"No. Why don't you come show me, sweet work wife?" The low baritone of his voice went straight to your cunt and you're rubbing your thighs together. A pheromone daze shared between the two of you as you two stare at one another. A brief pause before you reach into your bra, retrieving your panties you departed with earlier and tossing them at Nanami. The dainty material lands on his thigh and he immediately sees the navy lace dark blue and soaked through. His cock jumps, and he looks at you. A cocky smirk is on your lips and he clears his throat before speaking.

"Come here, now" Work Husband!Nanami commands sensually before you and before you can talk yourself out of it you’re rounding his desk. He gets up from his chair, meeting you halfway before grabbing your body swiftly. He places you on his desk and it takes you a minute to register he lifted you like you weighed absolutely nothing. Your cunt fluttering at his brute strength and you stare at him doe eyed.

Work Husband!Nanami has to eat you out after pocketing your soaked through panties. His tongue dipping to collect your arousal that dripped out of you. Your scent clouding his nose as he moans against your wet and swollen clit. He sucks generously on the bud and you bite down hard on the back of your hand to silence yourself. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as his hot tongue circles your cunt like he was starved. Your free hand tugging on his blond locks and you feel like you’re about to cum.

“Kento . . . want to come on your cock, please.” You beg quietly and who is he to be a bad work husband and object?

Work Husband!Nanami rocks gently in you after slipping inside. He holds your legs up by the back of your knees, lewdly exposing yourself to him as he pistons himself inside. Your warm cunt hugging him deliciously and so tightly, yet you were so wet at the same time. Nanami is amazed, and already feels so pussy drunk off you surely he’s addicted. How can he not be? Especially with the way your tits bounced with each stroke and the way you moaned, singing his praises he ached to he able to take his time next time he was intimate with you. However he takes in the moment, casting a gaze to see your fucked out face and he wishes he could take a picture . . .

“Been dreaming of this pretty pussy.” He admits. You answer with a mixture of a giggle and a moan. The sound is beautiful and melodic and its something he can get used to.

“Been riding my toy wishing it was you.” You admit before you can stop yourself, allowing this side of you emerge as you felt drunk off his cock. He groans at your confession, rolling his hips deeper and tip kissing the deeper parts of you. It sends your toes curling and choking back a whimper.

“My poor little work wife been suffering by yourself. Let me make it better, honey.” He coos to you gently, kissing your forehead before rolling his hips harder. His long fingers find your swollen and neglected clit. You twitch harder against him, squirting and surprising both of you. You bite back a squeal as your eyes roll back.

“Kento!” You whispered in a desparate tone. Finds himself asking “Are you going to come, hun?” To which you reply — “mhmm, are you?”

“Fuck if you keep creaming on me like this, fuck yeah sweetheart.” Nanami makes a mistake and casts a look down to see his cock coated in a mix of his cum and your cream. His cock has never looked prettier and he fights the urge to fill you right there.

“Want you to come in me. Please, Kento.” You beg and he clenches his jaw.

Work Husband!Nanami has to shove his face in your neck when cums. His teeth biting hard on your neck as his tongue tastes you and your sweat. He feels you fight screaming as the bite travels straight to your belly, and his fingers circle your clit faster. That thread in your stomach unwinding and snapping. Your grip on him tightens as you cum all over his cock.

Work Husband!Nanami silences you with a kiss as he fills you with his cum. The overstimulation causing you to moan, clamping tightly on his cock as you fight to wrap your legs around his waist. He drops his hands, allowing you to do so and you wrap your arms around him as well. He holds you close to him, chuckling as you fell into the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Work Husband!Nanami has to see his cum trickle out of you and onto his desk. He has to fight getting hard again, but remembers one round was risky enough so he kisses your forehead gently to tell you how good you are for him.

Work Husband!Nanami wipes you down tenderly afterwards. He cleans you delicately before situating himself and his office space. When you fix yourself over he looks at you.

“You were perfect this morning by the way. Never been prouder of my work wife.” Satisfied with his words, his praise, and still in the haze of your orgasm you smile wide. You stand from the chair, fixing yourself to leave before he steps close to you.

"Thank you, Kento." You say, looking up as he looms over you. He brushes your hair back into its normal place, looking you over before you walked back into the office. His eyes are filled with nothing but tenderness as he tends to you, fixing your clothes and checking you over one last time.

"Do you feel better now," you nod at his inquiry, "all you needed was to be stuffed with my cum? Naughty." He shakes his head and you only shrugs before grinning up at him.

"Only for you." You tease Work Husband!Nanami and he clears his throat. He leans down, taking your lips with his deeply. You melt, humming gently before his broad fingers find your ass. He gives it a rough squeeze through your skirt and you blush at his gesture.

"Let me know when you need me to fill you again." Work Husband!Nanami says paired with an ass slap as you nodded. You look up at him beneath your lashes as you do before sauntering sultrily away. You unlock the door and exit his office nonchalantly as if he was not fucking you on his desk moments ago.

Work Husband!Nanami now has to figure out how he has to cope with knowing you're walking around the office stuffed full of his cum . . .

©chososluv ╰┈┈➤ P A R T T W O [Boyfriend!Nanami] ╰┈┈➤ M A S T E R L I S T !

#whew i'll edit it later but i love her #i am going to sleep GOODNIGHT!#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.k.nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #𝐑𝐈𝐕.𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

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undiscovered-horizon · 7 months

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[Zoro is jealous of how impressed you are with another man's strength. A few insults and broken breezeblocks later, he makes sure he's the only man you have eyes on.]

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Roronoa Zoro is a man too busy to boast. He perceives his skills and attributes as a means to an end and not a goal in itself; achieving unmatched swordsmanship is but a method of becoming the world's greatest swordsman.

It's completely useless to waste one's potential only to earn fame and admiration. If one sees their abilities as a goal, they tend to abandon their growth once the goal is achieved, never discovering what they can really do. Therefore, boasting is a manmade border between the current state of things and the wonderful possibilities.

Or so he tells himself.

The crowd cheers again as the blue-haired boy breaks another stack of planks. Each time he adds one more obstacle, the mob of onlookers is sure that this time, he's bound to fail. They've been wrong so far.

Zoro and you have been watching the show from affair but only because you refused to walk away. Sure, on your adventures you have seen people or unimaginable skills and attributes. Nevertheless, the man on the makeshift stage is just that - a man. No Devil Fruit, no canons-for-arms or anything of this sort. Just a person with determination and years of practice.

"Damn, that's some strength," you say in awe. "It's amazing."

Zoro only scoffs, scowling while he stands with his arms crossed. "Come on, this is nothing."

"Oh, right, breaking a stack of five wooden planks with your bare fist is just a regular Tuesday, eh?"

"Definitely not for a twig like him," he answers while still glaring at the boastful plank-breaker. "A gust of wind could break his bones."

Something about his huffing and puffing doesn't sit right with you. After all, why does he care in the first place? Zoro is not the kind of person to be interested in things that are not directly connected to him. It's almost as if...

Is he jealous of the attention?

"You know what, Zoro?" When you turn to look at him, he notices the challenging glint in your eyes. You're up to no good, aren't you? "I'd love to see you try and break even one plank."

He scoffs again but this time he looks almost offended at the implication. "I wouldn't even get out of bed for one."

"That's not a good measure." You shake your head decisively. "It's already hard to make you get up." Then, an idea sparks in your thoughts - something he's sure not to reject. "Let's do it like this. If you can one-up that guy, I'll do whatever you want."

Zoro's brown eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. He seems to be trying to guess how serious you are about your promise. "Anything goes?" he asks suspiciously.

"Nothing that will tarnish my dignity." As a warning, you point your finger at him. "Or dirty my shirt."

Then, to your utmost satisfaction, he gives you a smirk beaming with confidence.

"You're going to regret this."

"I hope so," you answer.

He clenches his jaw at your frivolous tone, his mind racing in a thousand different directions at once. What do you mean you "hope to regret" your wager? What exactly do you think he'll ask of you?

No matter the answers to his questions, Zoro has found a new source of motivation inside him. He can ask anything. As nice as that sounds, and he's sure to let his imagination run amok, the more satisfying prize will be the look of awe you're bound to give him. If you're impressed with this boastful twig of a man, how dazzled will you be with Zoro when he beats him? Maybe you'll finally stop looking at other men like they're actually worth even a second of your time or a speck of your attention.

"Hey, wood boy!" Zoro exclaims at the top of his lungs while making his way through the excited crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Let's see who's stronger."

"A brave challenger appears!" The blue-haired man announces. Whispers erupt among the onlookers. "Or maybe he's stupid?" he directs his question at his fans. Then, when Zoro enters the stage, the man looks at him with a feeling of superiority smeared across his face. "I'll have you know, I'm the local champion."

Up close, the blue-haired man looks even less impressive than from the ground. He's rather scrawny compared to men of similar strength and he could definitely use a long bath. Zoro is almost offended that you'd look at this poser of a clown instead of him.

"Only local?" Zoro asks. He erupts in laughter, making his opponent's expression visibly falter. "Not much of a title. I've seen rocks bigger than this island."

The whispers turn into loud conversations as half of the crowd demands Zoro to take back his words and the other half begs for a showdown to see who's the true master between them.

"Ambitious!" the blue-haired man exclaims with fake casualness, clearly trying to hide his own uneasiness. "That's what I like to see. But I must warn you that breaking wood with the sheer power of your bare fist is neither easy nor simple. Are you sure you can manage?"

Zoro laughs again. His posture only grows with confidence while the other man seems to be becoming smaller with each of Zoro's insults. "Wood is for children."

The blue-haired man swallows nervously. Sweat trickles down his neck. "Alright then." He clasps his hands together, rubbing them to ease the arousing tension. "What do you propose?"

"Breezeblocks."

The crowd audibly gasps and you're not any different. To break something that can render someone unconscious, if not dead, without having to use much strength? Even for someone like Zoro, the suggestion seems more than audacious. True, you wanted to see him prove his bold talk but not break his hands.

But before the blue-haired man can protest or diverge the discussion, a group of eager men bring a load of breezeblocks on stage. Their eyes shine with impatience and desire to see uncommon strength as they take away the wooden boards and set up the first breezeblock for each of them to break. The hollow bricks are placed atop regular, clay bricks that the blue-haired man has used to lay the planks on.

With a light gesture of his hand, Zoro allows the apparent master to begin. The man stretches his arms and cracks his joints. Despite being visibly experienced in this art, there is a noticeable nervousness in his movements, too. As though he's not as confident as he was five minutes ago.

Measuring one or two times beforehand, the local champion slams his fists on the breezeblock. A muffled thud resounds and the crowd falls silent. Then, a loud grunt fills the tense air but not a speck of cement is lifted. The breeze block did not break but considering the agony on the man's face and the deep red of his hand, something surely did break.

Zoro laughs for the third time. Strangely enough, he seems almost suspiciously laid-back. He reaches for the blue-haired man's unbroken breezeblock and places it atop his. If the crowd was silent before, it's deathly quiet now. They don't even dare breathe, awaiting the resolution of this unforeseen wager.

His eyes meet yours and never stray as he punches the stack of breezeblock. They break, fall and crumble on the stagefloor. Zoro doesn't look phased in any way, nor does his hand look to be injured. Judging by his casual attitude, he can easily break a lot more than just two breezeblocks. Maybe one day he'll find out but not at the moment - that's not the point of his little show of strength.

Some people try to accost him or talk to him as he makes his way back to you but Zoro's usual glares and silence quickly mitigate their enthusiasm and soon the mob of onlookers just cheers among themselves.

"Alright, I'm impressed," you admit with a nod. "In capital letters."

"So, anything I want, huh?" He can't help the smile curving his lips. It's a big word that you've used - a little too big for Zoro's imagination because it too happily strayed in directions that might break his heart permanently if you reject him.

"I suppose you do deserve compensation for holding yet another title of a champion. The dreadful weight of success," you say in a dramatic tone. "Now, what is this 'anything' you've decided on?"

Truthfully, he hasn't decided yet. If this "more than friends, less than lovers" situation he has with you was a game of chess, he's just made his opening move. You played back and put him in a place where there are simply too many options to reconsider. So what choice does he have to make to have you in a checkmate?

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagine #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro x you #roronoa zoro fanfiction #roronoa zoro x you

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diorcities · 6 months

Text

one of the girls

pairing: famous!haechan x afab!reader. genre: smut. content: manhandling, brat taming, o. denial, o. control, unprotected sex, clit stimulation, creampie, princess treatment, argument for pride, stubborn reader, mean!hyuck.

party halls. fancy cars. effervencent champagne. dazzling nights.

in a room full of men thinking important thoughts, he steals the show. flirtatious whispers coming his way. the sighs that his cut-out profile draws, smiling because he knows the effect he has on people. lots of broken hearts wherever he goes. except one. or ones; he is the embodiment of romanticing. looking from below with his bright wild eyes as he takes off your shoes and kisses your ankles before leaving you powerless because he knows the effect he has on you.

dribbling the crimson liquid into the glass, your eyes cascading over his silhouette at the other end of the room. inhaling the exquisite scent of the liquor. the lipstick traces the edge of the glass, reminiscent of the hue delicately unveiling itself beneath the collar of his shirt as he unfurls the knot of his tie. muscles automatically flexing in the task as his lower lip, kissed a million times, is captured by his canines.

despite their delicacy, the movements carry a nuance underlying the grace of his gestures, and the aroma that envelops him is so exquisitely intoxicating that your thoughts are spilled all over the room. as if he carries with him the very essence of seduction. his masculinity is pronounced, yet seamlessly fused with a continuous subtlety. devilishly attractive, he exudes an allure so undeniable that one can't help but think he is well aware of his own magnetic presence.

you still feel the bubbly taste of wine on your tongue as you place the glass on the table and cross the hotel room as you catch him smirking because he's aware you tried to keep your breathing sounding rhythmic as his dazed eyes fall on you when your fingers tangle with his, honey hair tickling your forehead. “allow me.”

your thoughts are still messy everywhere. in his eyes like two wild suns, in his adam's apple when your hands venture up to his neck, undoing the knot because even though it's devilishly attractive, alcohol still has the same mundane effect on him.

he looks through you. as he's aiming for your heart, his hands ready to rip it apart before he decides to take care of it instead. fiddling with the cord of a bow almost undone in the restless night with his bewitched eyes following the stroke of his fingers burning the skin of your chest.

he leans in and his lips seek yours to press a small kiss. and then another. and another. until the ephemeral becomes everlasting. “i want you.”

“i know.” he hums in response, almost nonchalantly were it not for his velvety eyes still spilling on your lips and his tongue teasing the inside of his cheek. your eyes drift from his tongue when he wet his lips where your skin burns and tickles. “it looks good on,” he pronounces as you observe he knotted the loose bow again.

your lips stretch into a sharp smile, reluctant to show whether that could have affected you. “you're not special,” you say, “i'm not gonna remember you just because you've been putting your best behavior and decided to not have sex with me.”

he stays magnanimous as the anger starts to crisp you when he laughs with light amusement, “oh, i will fuck you.” your brows cloud in disbelief, which leads him to smile even wider, “i prefer it with clothes on.”

you're too stunned by his confession to feel him pull you to himself and leave a kiss on your wet mouth. much more disoriented when he murmurs against your mouth, too fond to be snarky, “is that okay with you, angel?” without waiting for an answer to kiss you deeper as he knew the absence of your answer already.

it's very hard to spin thoughts now that his mouth won't stop moving over yours. more intoxicated by the taste of his tongue than the liquor that runs through your body. “lay down,” he asks when his hands are already pushing you into bed. his footprints burn your skin. you look at him through the thick haze of your chaotic subconscious while furious flutters take place in your stomach.

“i thought you like it with clothes.” your voice comes out thicker and deeper than you want it to be. pure desire intermingles, and haechan can sense it as he unbuttons his shirt, raising the gaze that holds the answer to your intrinsic question. your clothes remain intact while his is disappearing, watching him taking his shirt off, you let the complaints to die on your tongue at the sight of his tanned skin.

his hands slide into the buckle of his pants and you hold your breath. face burning from trying to contain the flames rising up your neck. feeling the fire twitch in your stomach, and stream to your hands already perching on him before your mouth does. kisses pressed on his waist, in the valley of his stomach that leads to his sternum.

he stops every motion treasuring your lips on his skin, “weren't you taking off your pants?” his gleeful chuckle vibrates against your palm releasing liquid desire in your belly. your fingers pull down the piece of fabric as you keep kissing his warm, soft skin, so dangerously close if you just slide your mouth a few inches lower to his growing bulge. “want me to take care of it?” you inquire.

haechan catches one of your feet in his hands as you drop to the fluffy surface. a smile dances on his lips as he pushes it to open. “you will.” his hand wraps around your ankle and holds you in place on the edge of the bed, as you revel in his anatomy. eyes gleaming at the view when when his erection hits the spot where your lips were pressing a few seconds ago.

you shallow and he notices it, “don't worry, pretty. it'll fit.” wanting to hold it for yourself is a lot of greed that you're not willing to reveal, so you bite your lip as your eyes fall on the ceiling, trying to take away the appetite from feeling it in your mouth before answering, “so?”

his hand drags down the back of your neck, suspended above you as he places a long, lush kiss on your mouth. you feel him venturing under your skirt before his warm fingers meet your bristling skin, a triumphant smile rises on your lips as his mouth drifts toward your neck, releasing a small hiss as he realizes the lack of garments underneath the fabric.

he's flushed. moist eyes clouded with ache burning his pupils. “fuck you— you're playing filthy.” his raspy voice sends you to the edge of the world. “i'm not playing anything,” you feel your tongue unravel to respond with difficulty. he grunts. lie. he knows you were. all along. your games, all dirty. the constant competition to know which one bewitched the other.

just because you didn't want to admit that you were the first one to give in.

you press your lips together when he slides through your silky folds. he curses and you roll your eyes. “already this wet?” he clicks his tongue, drawing circles on your clit. the drunken taste of his tongue mingles with the wine flavor when he kisses you firmly. your breath is caught in your throat when his digits switch the intensity of the motions.

your warmth aches for him. legs spreading cause him to increase the enhancement of his strokes. silent hisses leave your lips the moment he pulls away just enough to look at you. “let me hear you.” his eyes eclipsed in two black orbs. he chuckles, “need help with that?” your lip is caught between your teeth when you sense him guiding his fingers to your entrance. fuck.

you're hazing. blurry thoughts as electricity is shot into your bloodstream. haechan eases his fingers in you, pumping with a steady pace, making sure you're feeling him. watching you from above as you twitch due to fire pooling down your legs. your being is burning and your chest is filled with dying moans. eyes rolling back when your walls clench around his tick fingers fucking the shit out of you. “let me stretch you pretty for my cock,” he coos. lush growing a hole in your belly as his relentless strokes send you to the brim, accentuating the strength and depth with which he buries his fingers in you, threatening to shatter you.

his firm grip lands on your collarbones. you're a mess uncontrollable. arching your back and squirming under his gaze. sensing your stomach tightens violently when you feel the crushing climax looming in your body, clouding your mind and filling your ears with white noise. your belly contracts and shakes, your legs jerk, and your mouth opens. a whine finally escapes from you when he stops all the actions.

you are beyond confused, dazed and disoriented. your mind takes eternal seconds to process the fact that you were about to unleash the ecstasy before he, who grins at you, ceased it all. you don't give a fuck at this point. the moans fill your mouth now turned into gloomy sounds while your eyes search for him in distrust as they begin to well up with tears. upset. vexed.

“haechan.” he kisses you and you sob. haechan's tongue press against the pulsing vein on your neck, “the only way you're coming tonight is on my dick, precious.” your fingers bury themselves in the tender skin of his shoulders, arching your back. a pant leaving your lips as the swirl of emotions takes place in your belly when he sucks gently. one of his hands grasps your waist making sure to exert force in it, “stop being a tease and be a good girl, yeah?” before you feel him guiding his tip between your folds. your body trembles at the sensation of his cock being lubricated with your arousal. your mind scatters in all the places he's present. physically and emotionally.

a high-pitched sound echoes in your throat when he thrusts you with ease, feeling every inch expand your walls. your head lolls inadvertently aware of his thick length pushing in. he grunts, wild eyes as he hovers over you to have a full view of you taking him. of his dick burying into your aching cunt.

hair being pulled as you curl under him. hand reaching his on your waist unconsciously when he starts to thrust. so torturously steady, so painfully rough. you feel him everywhere. your pulse quickens and pumps your ears. face burning and cheeks wet. your mouth feels dry and something warm and smooth takes place inside. his cock hammers your soaked pussy and your ears fill with the lewd sounds every time he sinks into you. “d-don't cut your hair—.” he hums with amusement.

a shudder whips you and you're a mess of tears and strangled sighs. hands clenched in your chest as haechan buries himself over and over again mercilessly, shaking your body due to the force he exerts every time he pushes you towards his pelvis before meeting you halfway and fucks into you, leaving you breathless and counting stars.

he breathes sharply, “not a single word of how good i'm fucking you?” you're numb, feeling more that hearing the lewd of your arousal mixing around his. “in subspace, angel?” he bends over you, bringing your legs with him. his hands stop caressing your inner thighs to go to your chest. your fingers tangle with his when he undoes the bow that keeps your blouse on, “should i stop?”

your body goes into alarm at the same time your stomach closes and twitches, “please don't.” haechan pulls away from you, decreasing the pace of his thrusts. a pant leave his mouth half-open, looking disturbed all of a sudden before you sense him twitch between your walls. eyes closing tightly as he rocks his cock back and forth, hand going towards your cunt to start circling your clit. your pussy throbs knowing he's so close.

your heart skips a beat. your whole body is covered with pure pleasure. raw. and you feel your blood boil when you think you're burning at any moment. pearlescent skin in sweat. wrinkled and ruined clothes, cuffed by his hands as he buries himself and hammers his cock into you. pelvis pounding you rhythmically, bringing you to the intoxicating sensation of climax destroying your belly. a painful sharp pleasure fills you up.

“you've been snarky all night, shall i remind you your place?” one of his hand gropes the soft skin of your breast. the mere touch stuns your senses and turns them into a whirlpool of ecstasy.

“'m so clo—se.”

your pussy starts pulsating and he can't take his eyes off your breasts wiggling to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“i can tell that.” your hands sting when he takes them in one of his, bringing them to your stomach and exerting pressure where it burns deliciously. “feeling bold telling me how to make you feel good?” he clicks his tongue, “answer.”

“please, don't stop,” you plead in despair. “i love you.”

your boyfriend chuckles with tender, “i love you, too. but that's not what i want to hear.” he increases the pressure on your swollen clitoris.

you gulp, suddenly flushed. “fuck,” you mutter, “—feel so good, 's too m-uch.”

you groan in despair as the world crumbles and blurs around you. sinking into a total catalytic state feeling every nerve ending twitch and release itself when haechan fucks you hard against the mattress, “s-such a brat.” a pleasurable pain whips and contorts your body when he coos, “just like that, keep moaning like that.” arching your back towards him as his cock pulls you to the edge of the world and drops you into the welcoming ocean of breath-taking spasms. it feels too much, so intoxicatingly sensitive when he keeps thrusting you until you feel him tremble and stop with a restrained whine.

you feel him pull out his erect dick and start stroking it as he growls before you feel his hot seed coating your pussy. his cum spills into your folds, dripping down your cunt before he guides his tip along the path it leaves to push it into you. hand on your knee to make sure you don't close your legs as he gazes at your destroyed pussy filled with him.

“at one point i need to go get clean,” you say snarkily.

he creeps towards you with a grin, “allow me.” before depositing a trail of kisses down your stomach until you can't keep holding his gaze when he buries it between your legs.

your sharp breath freezes in your throat.

#haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #nct dream smut #♡haechan

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penelopepine · 17 days

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Maybe I'll write this later:

Poly!141 x Bull Rider Reader

Poly!141 go on a vacation to a cabin owned by Laswell. She let's them know that the county fair is in town the same time as them, and that they should check it out. Says they should experience this aspect of the states. Mentions at the very least they should go and watch the bull riders.

Poly!141 go to the fair. Price thought it sounded interesting, but didn't care either way. Gaz thought that it was a fun idea; definitely wanted to go. Soap was the most hype about going; he was down to go the moment he knew about it. Ghost didn't really want to go. The only reason he did was because he couldn't say no to Gaz's big brown eyes or Soap's pretty begging.

Poly!141 do all of them normal fair activities. They checked out the cooking competition. Trying all the chilies, pies, dips, and cakes. Making bets between themselves on which ones will win.

They play a few of the fair games. Price absolutely dominates at the balloon darts game, and wins prizes for all of the others. Soap tries to his best to win at ring toss; he REALLY wants one of those giant stuffed animals. He doesn't care how impractical carrying that thing is going to be. Try as he may he can't do it though. Soap had given up, and decided to give his last throw to Gaz; who won in one throw! This both delighted and infuriated Soap. Ghost was totally ready to just buy or steal the giant stuffed animal if he hadn't made it.

Poly!141 are finally able to watch the fair shows later during the day. The first they watch is the ax throwing competition. Ghost spends the whole time judging their stances and forms. While also silently admiring the strength that some of them have. Gaz can't stop thinking about how if Price wore a flannel shirt that he would fit right in, and they'd probably lose him in the crowd.

After that is when they go and watch the bull riding competition. Soap is immediately invested in what's happening, and is convinced that he could do this as well. Price is impressed; watching these men and woman willing get bucked around while they could easily get hurt. Ghost spends his time holding Soap down trying to tell him that he can't go down there and ask to do that. Gaz wants to try this for himself, but he knows better than to try it on a real animal. Looks up places they could go and ride a mechanical bull instead.

Poly!141 are instantly drawn to you when you make your appearance. Your smile was dazzling, and they definitely weren't looking at how good your ass looks in those pants.

Bull Rider Reader is an experienced rider. They've been performing since a young age, and has made a bit of a name for themselves within the community. They know how to make a show, and wow the crowd.

Once the show is done Bull Rider Reader runs into Poly!141. Soap is asking questions about how it feels to ride a bull, and how could he do that too. Gaz is saying that they were very entertaining to watch, and asking how long they've been doing this. Ghost is mostly silent; only saying that they did good and wondering to himself if bull riding would come in handy in other aspects of life. Specifically the bedroom. Price is the one who asks Bull Rider Reader if they live around the area or if they traveled for this event.

Poly!141 invite Bull Rider Reader to watch the fireworks with them, and later asks if they would want to hang out a different day since they're still on vacation for a few more days.

Bull Rider Reader knows a bar with a good mechanical bull, and offers to teach them some tips. Poly!141 is instantly down and ready to learn.

The next day everyone meets up and the amount of flirting is through the roof on both sides. Light touches and sexual innuendos are at a none stop with this group. The night ends with everyone having ridden the bull; even Ghost who was easily the best and managed to stay on the longest out of everyone.

Everyone leaves feeling happy and a new number in their phones.

#141 x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle gaz x reader #x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 x reader

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grandmother-goblin · 4 months

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Just Watch the Fireworks

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: It was supposed to be a sweet, innocent date. That was, until Astarion decided he wanted to have some fun with you while you were very much still in public.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) for smut.

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags: Smut, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, cuddling, kissing, post Astarion's personal quest, spawn!Astarion.

Firework shows over Grey Harbor happened only a couple of times a year in Baldur’s Gate. Bright, massive, loud displays that boomed over the whole city and illuminated the night sky in dazzling arrays of colors and lights. Usually they marked some sort of holiday or other celebration. Although you weren’t keen on the celebration for this particular occasion, Gortash’s coronation, you were still eager to see the show.

Plus, it was a nice way to end your impromptu date with Astarion. You two had gone out to get some supplies, but upon seeing the night market and posters for the firework show, you decided to stay a while.

Astarion had found a perfect spot for the two of you on a grassy, green hillside just on the outskirts of the city. It was one of the more popular places to watch the fireworks. People dotted the landscape, all sitting on their own little blankets as they looked out over the ocean, waiting for the show to begin.

It was kind of nice to be out with Astarion like this.

Ever since Cazador had been defeated, Astarion had grown much more comfortable being out in the open at night. He seemed more relaxed overall, like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Of course, there were several other factors on both of your minds: the tadpole, the Absolute, the fact that Astarion’s days walking in sunlight were numbered.

But you two would figure it out.

Together.

For now, you wanted to enjoy the night with him and pretend none of your problems existed. Even if it was only for a couple of hours.

As you sat between his open legs, Astarion wrapped his arms around you along with a knitted blanket, cocooning you in pleasant warmth. You leaned your head back against his shoulder with a comfortable sigh, luxuriating in the silky soft material of his shirt. “I bet you’ve seen these shows a thousand times.”

“I have,” he replied matter-of-factly, his cool breath fanning across your neck. You felt him press a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. “One year, all the fireworks went off at the same time. It was hilarious and I almost hope it happens again.”

You gave a little snort of laughter. “That would cut this date really short.”

“We can find plenty more to do, my love.” Astarion’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt and gave your hip an affectionate squeeze. “Now that Cazador is gone, we can do whatever we want. The night is still young.”

“Oh no,” you replied lightly. “I’m turning in for the night after the show is over. I’m exhausted.”

Though Astarion seemed to have plenty of energy, the events of the day had been starting to weigh on you. All you wanted to do after the fireworks display was cozy up in some warm pajamas and snuggle into your bed at the Elfsong Tavern.

Preferably, you would be cuddled up next to Astarion, but you wouldn’t stop him if he had other plans.

Most nights since you had started sharing a room with him, Astarion had been perfectly capable of keeping himself occupied while you slept. Sometimes he would read a book or work on something with a needle and thread, but you almost always awoke to him meditating peacefully beside you.

Other nights, well, he had to hunt. While you were happy to be his donor when he really needed blood, it simply wasn’t practical to let him feed on you all the time. So long as he was discreet, you didn’t mind that he took his hunting to the streets.

With his thumb, he drew idle circles around your hip as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch, enjoying the feel of the heavy blanket wrapped around you and the firmness of his chest against your back.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear and with a low and husky voice, he said, “I keep thinking about our night in the graveyard.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Which part?”

“The part with you under me,” he muttered against your skin as he slipped one finger beneath the waistband of your pants, “moaning my name as you clawed my back.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Shh,” you said, your eyes darting around at the people sitting on neighboring blankets. “Not so loud.”

“They aren’t paying attention to us.” Astarion placed a reassuring kiss to the side of your head, but he didn’t move his hand. Then he cocked his chin to the starry sky above the harbor. “The show is about to start.”

Sure enough, the first of the fireworks burst into the sky. A splattering of reds and yellows against the inky night sky, the distant sounds of explosive crackling reaching your ears mixing with the sound of excited cheers from the people around you. You watched as the bursts of light shimmered away, blending into the night, just before more fireworks flowered above.

You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned back into Astarion’s touch. Squeezing his arms around you, he pulled your body flush against his. At first, you thought he was just cuddling closer. But then you felt it: a hard ridge nudged that up against your lower back.

You swallowed, but felt heat rising to your face even as you tried to ignore Astarion’s painfully obvious erection. He wasn’t doing anything inappropriate — he was just holding you. With his hard cock pressed against your back.

Gods, was it always so hot at night? What did you even need a blanket for?

Just as you thought about shrugging the blanket from your shoulders, his fingers slipped further beneath the waistband of your pants. “I want to touch you,” he said, his lips brushing against your throat as he spoke. “Just a little bit.”

“Right now?” you asked, keeping your voice so low you could barely hear yourself over the fireworks. Uncertainty and anticipation tugged your mind in two different directions and you shifted slightly, unsure of what to do with yourself.

It had only been a couple of nights since your tryst in the cemetery, and you and Astarion hadn’t been intimate since. Not for any particular reason — there just wasn’t enough time in the day for intimacy with everything going on with the Absolute.

Suddenly very aware of a subtle, yearning, ache between your legs that hadn’t been there a few moments ago, you pressed your thighs together hoping to give yourself some relief.

It was unfair, really, how quickly Astarion could turn you on.

You were supposed to be on a sweet, innocent, date! And he—

“Spread your legs a bit for me, darling,” Astarion murmured, his dangerous teeth delicately nipping at sensitive flesh just below your jawbone.

He was absolutely going to be the death of you.

Glancing around, there were people in every direction you looked. No one was sitting too close, but they were close enough that they could easily hear your conversation had you not been trying to be quiet. But all of them faced straight ahead, their eyes entranced on the bursts of light blooming across the sky.

“Astarion,” you whispered, your voice somewhere between a warning and a whine as Astarion’s fingers brushed over the soft fabric of your panties. “There are people around.”

His hand stilled, and you couldn’t help the tiny, involuntary, tilt of your hips. You could see the flash of his teasing, rakish smile from the corner of your eye. “Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you took one more look around.

Astarion had been right earlier.

No one was paying attention to the two of you.

Shaking your head, you swallowed as nerves and excitement fluttered in your stomach. “But—”

“All you have to do is stay still for me,” Astarion said as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, “and try not to moan my name too loudly.”

Carefully, and as subtly as you could, you let your legs fall open.

A pleased hum rumbled in Astarion’s throat as he pulled your back flush against him. His hard cock was like a brand against your lower back. “Now just watch the fireworks, darling, and no one will know what I’m doing to you under this blanket.”

Kissing your neck, the tips of his fingers slowly, steadily, circled your clit. You let your head fall back against his shoulder with a sigh, your cheeks burning as he touched you.

Gods, he was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to finger you in public and…

You didn’t want him to stop.

You breathed in deep, inhaling the sweet piney and citrusy scent of his cologne. A comforting scent, and one that turned you on like no other because it was uniquely Astarion’s. Slowly, your body relaxed into his touch.

For a moment, it was just the two of you and the sounds of fireworks.

“Good girl,” Astarion purred as his hand delved between your legs. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as he teased your entrance, gathering your slickness on his fingertips. Slowly, he slid one finger inside of you. “It’s just me and you right now.”

He touched you leisurely, unhurried strokes. The subtle curl of his fingers made you want to arch into him. It was all too easy to forget yourself when you were with him. When he was touching you like this.

How you wanted to return the favor. You wanted to wrap your hand around that hard length behind you and give him some pleasure as well.

But you couldn’t.

At least, not without exposing you both.

When he pressed another finger inside you, a shaky exhale passed your lips. Your walls clenched around him, as if trying to draw him in deeper. “Astarion, please,” you whispered, not really sure what you were asking for.

But Astarion knew.

Astarion knew exactly how to touch you.

He knew exactly what your body needed to be brought to the edge. Oh, he knew how to make you scream in ecstasy, but he also knew how to make you sigh with pure pleasure. Like how his dexterous hands picked locks, it was like they knew all of your intricacies and exactly how to make you fall apart.

You pressed your lips against the underside of his jaw, stifling your moans against his cool skin. The heel of his palm rocked over against your clit in a steady, consistent rhythm as he shallowly thrusted into you. Glancing down, you could see that the thick blanket around you masked his movements completely.

Sneaky, clever, man.

Of course he knew exactly how to do something like this without being obvious. Although Astarion was far from subtle, he was excellent at not getting caught doing things he wasn’t supposed to.

The only one you had to worry about was yourself.

Your face heated as his movements grew more powerful. Your fingers gripped his thigh under the blanket as your core tightened around his fingers.

His tongue flicked the shell of your ear delicately. “Do you know what I want to do right now?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

Another gasp escaped your lip as he added a third finger, your body stretching to accommodate him. You felt so full, and you wanted nothing more than for him to go deeper. To fill you completely in a way only he could.

“What… what do you want to do?” you panted, fighting the urge to squirm in his arms.

Whatever you did, you would not let yourself get caught simply because you lacked self control.

The heel of his palm pressed more firmly against your clit, providing delicious friction as he fucked your so gently with his fingers. “I want to bend you over, darling,” he said as he picked up speed. “And I want to taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

Oh, by the gods.

He would never.

It was just dirty talk but — the idea of having an audience was so incredibly hot. Especially since there were so many people around, and you couldn’t indulge in such a fantasy here.

The forbidden nature of it just made you want it more.

“I would make you come on my tongue,” he murmured as the hard ridge between you pressed meaningfully against your back. “Only then, would I give you my cock. And I wouldn’t stop until you were screaming my name.”

You were so close. Your entire body was strung tight as your walls clenched around his fingers, wishing for something bigger. Thicker.

Why did you agree to this? You wanted nothing more than to climb on top of him and let him fill you up the way you wanted.

“Gods. Astarion,” you whispered against the scars on his neck. “I’m—”

Your mouth fell open on a sharp gasp as Astarion’s fingers returned to your clit. Astarion captured your lips with his own, drinking in your soft moans as you came undone.

The lights from the fireworks burst behind your closed eyes. The booming display in the sky crescendoed into a deafening roar as the show reached its finale, drowning out your already muffled sighs.

Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you as you rode out your orgasm. Your hips undulated lewdly against his hand as his lips moved against yours. He tasted like sweet wine as his tongue flicked against yours teasingly.

It was only when your heart began to settle that you felt the delicate nip of his fangs on your lips. His fingers, still slick with your arousal, intertwined with yours as he gazed down at you.

When you looked into those gorgeous vermillion eyes, his pupils were blown wide with lust.

Lust, and unmistakable love.

Then his eyes flickered toward the direction of the Elfsong Tavern. “You know,” he said, holding your chin in hand as his thumb swiped gently over your lower lip. “I think we should turn in early after all. What do you say?”

You were nodding before he even finished his sentence. “Oh gods, yes.”

---

Author's Note: This is my first foray into writing anything in second person or anything xReader, so I'm sorry for any mistakes and I hope you enjoyed!

#astarion #x reader #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion fanfic

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months

Text

Cause it’s you

a/n what the hell is it with Kazzle Dazzle that always makes me write a full ass story inside of a simple little blurb… chokehold.

request: kaz brekker x reader one bed trope on a heist 🙏🙏

warning: blood, injuries, touch aversion, one bed.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kaz was tired. Bone deep tired. That kind of tired that made you drag your legs through the pavement. His cane was taking most of his weight tonight, and truthfully, Kaz was ready for the day to end. And end as soon as possible. “So… Who’s going in to buy the rooms?” Jesper let out a painful breath. His ribs had to be black and blue by now. He did cover for most of the team during the job, and the way he was leaning on Wylan clearly showed that the adrenaline was wearing off.

“I would, but if I moved even the slightest, they would see blood all over my dress," Nina’s sugary, venomous voice shouted as she glared at Kaz, clearly still annoyed that her perfect dress, not to mention that Kaz bought the said dress, was ruined because of the job gone slightly wrong. Inej didn’t even move from her shadows. She and Kaz had a falling out while the pack trotted through the damp streets, and neither wanted to let go of their grudges.

“I’ve got it, guys," you said softly, catching everyone’s attention. “We all need a hot bath and a good night's sleep." You rested your hand on Nina’s shoulder as you peeked out of the alley. “Flirt your way through it," Jesper whispered. “Get us extra perks, please." The rest of the team snickered quietly.

You were about to respond when Kaz’s cane blocked your way. “No one is flirting, and you’re not going alone." His voice was way sharper than he usually used when he was talking to you. “I can handle myself, boss," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yeah, but a lady alone in the shithole like this... Would be too suspicious," Kaz breathed, stepping out and looking back at you.

A couple of hours later, you were finally drying your hands after patching everyone up. Girls had jumped into sharing a room and had walked you out while wiggling eyebrows that you greeted with a middle finger. Wylan was, of course, sharing with Jasper, who had been complaining about the single beds ever since he stepped foot into the room, so you had helped Wylan push them against one another.

It’s not like you hadn’t shared rooms with Kaz. You two grew up together in the slums. You were the one to pull him out of the water when he finally floated to the shore. He had his ever-going addenda of pushing you away ever since, but you had always stuck around. You had always tried to be his voice of reason. "Shit," you muttered once you flicked the light on. “No, no, no," you breathed out, rushing forward. This had to be a joke. What were the odds of getting three rooms and one of them having a double bed? Maybe you could pull them apart; maybe there were two. You yanked the duvet covers off. Fingers searching for a split in the mattress.

“What did that poor bed do to you?" A voice from behind you startled you, making you lose your footing and go face-first into the covers. “Great now, street grime is all over the sheets," he grumbled. “Well, if you weren’t sneaking behind my back, this wouldn’t have happened," you huffed, climbing off the plush sheets. “It’s my room," Kaz breathed out. Your gaze found him as you narrowed your eyes, “Our room, you mean?”.

He held your gaze. Strong. Unmoving. “I’ll take the chair," he muttered under his breath, stepping deeper into the room and starting to undo his jacket. “Like hell you will, your legs will be killing you tomorrow," you huffed, bending to undo your shoes. “And your shoulder won’t?”, Kaz huffed. “Speaking of which," his movements halted as he turned to face you. “Stand up and undo your shirt," he motioned with his hand. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Kaz Brekker, you’re trying to get me naked?”, you teased. Kaz simply tilted his head to the side, his face emotionless. Before he stepped closer, “You have two choices," he said quietly. “Enlighten me," you muttered under your breath. “You take it off willingly, or I will cut it off your body." You could feel his breath on your skin, making a shiver run down your back. “It’s nothing," you breathed. “Prove it," he dared you.

You held his gaze in silence. You knew that it was probably more than bad. You could barely lift your hand, and your shoulder blade was throbbing. It was almost funny how not the fact that you had to strip in front of him made you anxious but the fact that he would see you weak. You hated being vulnerable. When you finally clawed out of the street, you had sworn to never be vulnerable again. And Kaz hated weak investments. He didn’t do deals that weren’t beneficial to him. And now you...

You felt the cold metal tip of his cane slip between the two buttons right in between your breasts. "Hey," you jerked back, turning away from him. “Show me that fucking shoulder, YN," Kaz practically growled. “Or, I’ll...”. But he didn’t get to finish as your hands clumsily moved to undo the handful of buttons until you were practically panting from the panic cursing through your veins. Turning back to him, you yanked the dirty fabric from your body. "Happy," you hissed.

Kaz clenched his jaw. He didn’t even allow himself to blink as he looked at the crusted, angrily red cut and a handful of bruises littering your skin. He forced himself to put them all into his memory. Because this was all his doing. All his games had gotten you hurt. “Wipe those fucking tears off your cheeks," he huffed harshly. Too harshly, and he hated himself for it. But he couldn’t. Physically couldn’t watch you cry. It felt as if someone was carving out his chest. Your shaky hands clumsily wiped the damp patches beneath your eyes.

“You got out. We both did," Kaz muttered because he knew the demons that were clouding your brain now. He had met them too. You nodded. Wrapping your hands around your torso, it only just now hit him that you were standing in front of him topless. Kaz turned around so quickly that he nearly gave himself a whiplash before muttering, “Go, take a bath.”.

Your fingers were crinkling from the time you had spent laying in that hot water. You had hurried off the moment Kaz dismissed you. You knew he would never take advantage of you. And that bodies in general made him uncomfortable, but the way he had turned away from you. As if you were the most ugly creature that he had seen. Now your only salvation was that he might just be asleep by the time you stepped out of the bathroom.

Kaz, however, was far from sleeping. He had lost count of how many times he had walked up to the bathroom door to listen that you were still rustling around. He had lost his jacket and gloves. His hair was messy from all the pulling he has done. The slow turning of the key made him look up. Your hair was done up and still damp. Feet bare. You looked so small, like this. And that deep desire to keep you safe shifted gears without him even realizing it.

“You’re not asleep," you muttered, barely meeting his eyes. “It looks like I’m not," Kaz said quietly. There was no one else whom Kaz trusted the way he trusted you, yet here you two were as if you hadn’t spent the majority of your lives together. “Did you fix your shoulder?” Kaz asked, clearly stalling. You nodded, and he followed suit. “Then get into bed," "Kaz," you huffed. “I didn’t ask," he said, narrowing his eyes at you. You wanted to fight him, but you simply didn’t have enough energy to do so, “And you?”.

You saw something glistening in his eyes for a heartbeat before he swallowed, “I..." and let out a labored breath. “You can also lay down," you muttered. “I will keep to my side; we can put pillows in between." There was a note of hopefulness in your voice. One that held Kaz in a chokehold. “Lay down, woman," he said through gritted teeth. But you caught it. There was that part of him that he hid. So you wasted no time, doing right as he said.

He watched your every move. Watched your frame disappear between the sheets. Only then did Kaz step closer, his breathing hitching in his chest. The tide was rising. threatening to swallow him whole. “Kaz...”, and here it was with that same velvety voice. One that always pulled him right out. Chasing away all of his fears. He blinked a couple of times only to meet your beautiful eyes looking right at him.

“Close your eyes," he breathed, making you frown. “I didn’t know that you getting into bed was such a big secret," you teased. Kaz felt the corners of his lips turning upwards. "Smartass," he whispered under his breath as he swung his legs over the mattress. And for some reason, this didn’t feel too bad. It didn’t seem all that scary now that he was in bed. With you. You. It was because of you. Kaz turned his head to the side, watching you watch him. And for the first time, he let himself look. Not only look, actually see you. And fuck if you weren’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“You’re okay?”, you muttered, your fingers slowly moving toward the center of the bed. Kaz watched them getting closer, but he didn’t feel like stopping you. “When am I not okay when I’m with you?" A light gasp left your lips at his words, your lips disappearing between your teeth. “Don’t do that," he grumbled, his fingers only lifting and grazing yours, and you instantly pulled them away. Not wanting to cross his boundaries. "Sorry," you shook your head. “Not your fingers," Kaz protested. “Your lip," he pointed out, making you frown. “What about it?” You brushed your fingers over it, trying to see if you had bitten too hard and drawn blood. “Because if you’ll continue to do it, I’ll...", Kaz swallowed. “I might lose my restraint in holding back." And then he reached out, his shaky fingers brushing over your plump lips. It took all the self-control you had to not whimper at the touch. Savoring the way his fingers felt, you only let your eyes close for a second, and then there was nothing. As if you had imagined it. You had barely caught Kaz practically jumping out of bed. Reaching for his jacket and cane. "Kaz," you breathed, pushing the covers off your body. But your plea was met with a slam of the door.

#kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x oc #kaz x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker #kaz six of crows imaginw #the six of crows x reader #the six of crows imagine #six of crows x you #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #the six of crows

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diejager · 4 months

Note

Is there a Milf reader who have to take care of task 141 when they ask for a night stay? >:)) imagine they are your husband friends. (Your husband couldn’t knock you out so they help)

Affair Cw: implied cheating, voice kink, polygamy, creampie, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, fivesome/gangbang, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k

Your husband, sweet Tom, had friends over, drinking and laughing echoing from the kitchen, loud and boisterous sounds filled with ease and pleasure. You’d never heard him so joyous with anyone else - apart from you, he was a loving man - joking and chuckling so openly, in comparison to his quiet and humble self outside of your home.

Donning a robe over your attire, you wrapped yourself warmly before walking down the stairs, padded feet muffling your steps down the smooth, wooden flooring. You gazed into the dining room, staring at Tom’s back at the end of the table, his leaner build in contrast to his friend’s broad shoulders, and the dichotomy of their various personality that shine through their eyes. Unlike your husband’s soft hazel, the four men had beautiful shades, two blues: a violent, stormy blue and a bright, electric sky, and two browns: a dark and thunderous brown, and a warm and gentle chocolate. It stirred something in your gut, a warmth that shouldn’t be there.

Your sudden appearance had surprised them, four pairs of eyes alerting Tom that you stumbled into their little chat. Tom peered over his shoulder, his pretty hazel meeting your eyes and smiled softly, coaxing you over his side with a hand. Pushed forward, you stepped out of the dark hallway and into the lighted room, hand sliding into Tom’s and seated in his lap, bringing your robe closer to your chest.

“My sweet wife,” his eyes gleamed proudly, lips dancing across yours in a delicious show of adoration, “These are my friends from the SAS, dear.”

You let your eyes rove over them, to Tom’s left was a rugged-looking man with a wild mohawk with the electric blues, a zealous smirk gracing his lips. Beside him was the man with dark eyes, a hood pulled over his head and a skull-painted mask over his face, leaving a dusty black painted around his eyes like a dark shroud over his black garments. At the head of the table was a bear-like man in a beanie that exhumed confidence and stoicism with his stormy blue-grey, a cigar hanging from the corner of his lips and arms folded against his chest. And the final man, leaner than the others, but as big as the rest with his warm skin and warmer, chocolate eyes, a well-trimmed moustache and stubble, and his cute, flag-printed cap, casting a shadow over his dazzling eyes.

They all looked at you softly, your name rolling off their tongues with a distinct accent that made your lashes flutter and throat clog, introducing themselves with a little quip of their lips, two smiles, one reckless grin and a gentle squint of his eyes. Kyle was the softest one, John the leading figure, Simon the man shrouded in mystery and Johnny the one with a Scottish drawl. You wouldn’t mind them coming by more often when the kids were asleep upstairs.

Johnny was a feral man, jumping you in bed and tearing your clothes away with two or three gestures, ripping your shirt from the seams and tearing the gusset of your panties into pieces. He left you naked and wanting, writhing under him and his teasing kisses, teeth bared and snarling. Johnny was an overzealous sort, recklessly dominant with his whole body, throwing himself at you without any baseline, going without a plan or second thought. He was a man that believed that acts dictated how he felt and that was how he could show it to you —with his body.

He kissed you roughly, all teeth and biting, nipping at your lip and jaw, sinking into the meat of your neck and shoulder as he split you open on his cock, his veined girth and wild pubes. He praised you with every breath, grasping your hips and waist with a soft grip, kneading your breasts and thigh, fat and skin squeezed between his fingers. He filled you with more than just his cock, he purged you of stress, blowing away any fear away with smothering kisses and the rough tap of his tip against your cervix.

He left you satiated, face buried in your covers and snoring away after he bathed and took care of you, feeding you snacks and water and tucking you to bed. Brushing your hair back and promising to stay until your husband came back, whispering promises to come see you again.

Kyle was an angel, setting the line between what he was willing and wasn’t to do to you, lifting you up slowly, building up a heat in your core and making you boil over the edge. He shrugged off your robes with soft, guiding hands, lowering you to your bed and going down on you as if you were the last thing he’d ever eat. He stretched you open with his tongue and fingers, pulling orgasm after orgasm until you were left a mess. His love language was praises and softness, a gentle dominance with a smile and loving caresses.

He embraced you slowly, pushing into you tender kisses, lips dancing across yours to paint a Renaissance artwork worth being hung in the Salon des Refusés. A painting of your body lost in the throes of pleasure, your face twisted and nipples perked up, toes curled and fingers gripping your bed sheets, and lips glossy as you moan out his name. Kyle put you on a pedestal, a painting rivalling the beauty of Monet’s Olympia, your skin the same softness of her image, your hair spiralled wildly and him waiting against you for your every beck and call. You were the Olympia of his world.

He filled what Johnny couldn’t, his cock leaner than the Scot’s, but he made up with his longer length, brushing against your g-spot before hitting the deepest part of your cunt, drilling a spot for himself with his rapidly growing pace and gentle hold, gripping your hair to have you arch against him, staring up at the ceiling with fluttering lashes.

Simon came third, a wall standing between you and your freedom, a force to submit to. He was a rough lover, hands calloused and gruff voice. He manhandled you into your mattress, pressing your face into your bed while he ploughed through you. He was brutal and silent, taking control of you without uttering a single word, legs open and slick rolling down your thighs. Simon had you call him Sir or Master in the bedroom, having you scream his title and voice your needs to him, cries muffled by your wet cushion.

You felt every graze of his girth, thicker than the two before him and long with heavy balls, his cock throbbing inside of you when you clenched down. He loomed over you, an inked arm forcing you to arch your back, ass raised high and face down by the harsh hold of his hand. He was a mass of fat and muscles, unmoving and rough, snapping his hips against yours while he murmured filthy things, dirty and degrading words before throwing praises, lacing them with demeaning remarks. He swore he’d prepare you for Price, that he was the last step before you’d be completely ruined for anyone else, still filling you up with his cum.

You were unconscious by the time he tucked you in bed, taking his time to clean you up while you dozed away, dreaming about the men who gave you something to dream of while they were gone. When you woke up, you realised he left you a message on your phone under an unknown number, and you added him without a second thought.

When John came over, he expected you to obey him, kneeling by his feet in nothing but your panties, gazing at him with wide and teary eyes, tensing your thighs to drive off the tingling heat between your legs. Your core burned with a wildfire that hungered for more, hole leaky and clenching around nothing while you served John, your lips wrapped around his girth, drooling down his balls. John was stern, demanding to let yourself go to him, but he was hard like Simon, gentle like Kyle and rough like Johnny.

But unlike them, he moved with precision, folding you in half as he pumped you full of himself, his cock abruptly sinking into you before he pulled out completely and snapped his hips, burying himself balls deep inside of you. With your legs hanging off his shoulders and his hand collaring your neck, you let out choked breaths, his thrusts punching the air out of your body with the pointed and precise drive of his hips. He made you come twice before he filled you up, gushing around him with a loud whine, being bred by Tom’s friend from the Air Force.

He left you debauched and ruined, his spend leaking from your cunt and swollen clit throbbing from being pinched and rolled throughout your session. He kissed you goodbye before he left your room, pulling the blanket over your dazed and naked figure.

You couldn’t look at them in the eye when they all gathered for another boy’s night at your house, seated on Tom’s lap, fiddling with your finger as his thumb drew circles on your thigh to soothe your apparently sudden nerves.

“Did you remember to thank them, dear?” He kissed the skin behind your ears, teasing you with his breathy voice.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy

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jaylaxies · 11 months

Text

MEMORIES BRING BACK YOU

PAIRING: ex boyfriend!jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, themes of jealousy, obsession, stalking, drinking, breeding, usage of nicknames.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k words

SYNOPSIS: You were just about to head to sleep when you head loud knocking on your door. Turns out, it’s your drunk ex boyfriend who claims he misses you.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: omg hihi, it’s my first time writing about jaemin! i hope you guys enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

It was nearing midnight when you decided to close your books. Your eyelids automatically pressed shut to find tranquillity as you had spent the entirety of your evening studying when you could have easily gone out to Johnny’s party for the night, especially when you had no tests coming up for two weeks straight.

A sigh left your mouth as you got up, changing into your most comfortable pair of shorts along with a skimpy top, which suited to be the best outfit for you while you slept.

It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid your friends or the party, it was rather that you were trying to avoid a certain black haired guy, who’s dazzling smile stood out in the crowd.

It was none other than Na Jaemin, the guy you’ve been trying to avoid all month, especially because he kissed a random girl while being in a relationship with you. He’s been trying to apologize ever since, but you weren’t one to take his excuses.

“I thought it was you,” he had said.

Your jaw clenched as you remembered the whole scenario, your broken heart and endless tears. But what made it worse was the fact that you still wanted him, you missed him, and that’s the reason why you avoided being at the same places as him, which also included tonight’s party.

With a sigh, you tied your hair in a loose ponytail, almost getting into your bed before you heard loud banging on your front door. The noise was enough to galvanize you as you jumped slightly, your hand coming to rest on the top of your chest in an attempt to calm your fast beating heart.

Who would come this late at night?

You hurried to check it out, looking out of the peephole to find a very disoriented and drunk Jaemin, who was mumbling something which was inaudible to you before he raised his voice.

“Open up, angel,” he spoke, “let me in, you know you’re still fucking mine. You belong to me.”

You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your feelings yet even you couldn’t deny how your skin shivered when he called you his. You didn’t know whether to open the door or not.

But you did know that you didn’t want your neighbours to hear Jaemin.

Hesitantly, you opened the door which was a successful attempt to make him stop shouting. His grin widened when he saw you, eyebrows raising once his eyes took you in from head to toe.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You asked, agitated.

“I missed you, kitten,” he whispered.

It would have been a sweet thing to say if he said it when he was sober, but his current situation didn’t make things better, especially when you noticed the switch in his expression. Lust took over his senses.

“Jaemin, you should go home,” you said, voice softer for him to understand.

He chuckled, it almost sounded sinister. He looked sinister with his messy hair falling over his eyes, his glossy lips turned up in a smile, his shirt which was halfway unbuttoned, revealing his torso and showing the slightest bit of his defined abs.

“Why would I go home when you’re here, kitten?” He asked, stepping closer and also shutting the door in the process, “you know I love you, right?”

It was bad enough that you were anticipating it, and then it got worse when your heart fluttered at his confession. You wish you had one bit of self respect for yourself, you thought you did, but it was quick to fly out of the window as soon as Jaemin turned up at your door.

He took another step closer and your body felt weak, “I know you won’t let a little mistake get in between us,” he cradled your face.

Your body shivered with the proximity. He smelled of alcohol mixed with the scent of his musky yet lightweight perfume. It was intoxicating.

“Jaem—” you tried to say but he cut you off.

“That’s not what my kitten calls me,” he whispers, nose touching yours.

You gulped, knees feeling weaker by second, “nana,” you let out softly, causing his smile to grow.

“That’s right, that’s my good girl,” he praised and you swore his voice sounded even more sensual whenever he whispered.

Your mind had blanked out, the only things you could still register were Jaemin and his voice. However, you tried to convince him with the littlest sanity left inside you, “nana,” you said, “it’s too late, maybe you should go home and get some rest, yeah?”

That seemed to have angered Jaemin because he grabbed your nape and pulled you even closer to him, lips almost touching.

“Are you trying to make me leave, kitten? Aren’t you happy to see me?” He asked, exasperated.

“Of course, I’m happy—”

“So why are you doing this? Do you have someone else now? I’ll fucking kill them.” Your eyes widened at his statement, his tone even deeper now.

“Oh my god, no! That’s not it,” you tried to say.

He scoffed, “I fucking saw Haechan leave your house two days back, are you fucking him now?” He raised his brows, almost like a challenge.

That was enough to bring you back to your senses. Even though you did not fuck around with Hyuck, it wasn’t any of Jaemin’s business to be lurking around your place.

He was stalking you.

“Why do you care? Are you a stalker now?” You raised your voice for the first time.

“Because you’re fucking mine, kitten,” he growled, turning you around and pushing you against the door.

His plush lips were quick to be pressed against yours, sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine but you didn’t kiss him back.

With his fingers gripping your waist harder, he pushed his knee in between your legs and your thin shorts barely acted as a barrier between his rough jeans and your cunt.

A gasp left your mouth, which just provided him with the perfect opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. He tasted like raspberry and beer mixed together, you tried to keep your walls up but it was beyond you how this guy managed to make you swoon over him despite fucking everything up.

Slowly, you gave in as your body worked on its own accord, rubbing on his knee while your lips whispered out his name before kissing him back with equal intensity, as if you were transferring all your frustrations into him.

He only smirked, trailing his soft lips down your neck, “I’m gonna have to mark you up, kitten. I need to teach you who you belong to,” he murmured against your weak spot, right below your jaw.

He had your body memorized, his fingers tracing your nipples in circles through your skimpy top, which again, provided you with no help as you could feel his warm fingers too distinctly.

“Jump,” he commanded, tapping your thighs twice as he picked you up effortlessly and walked towards your bedroom, continuing to ruin your neck as he sucked it strong enough for purple marks to appear.

Your breath was shaky, your whole body was in his control as he took you to your bed, getting on top of you with his devilish smirk, his lips glistening more than ever as he kissed you, a string of saliva connected your mouth when he leaned back and diverted his attention to your shorts.

“Seems like you were waiting for me, kitten. Why else would you dress up like this, huh?” He asked, his voice almost innocent despite his words, and actions.

He proceeded to grab the upper portion of your top, your eyes widening as he tore it open, not wasting a second in taking your tits in his mouth. You rubbed your thighs together, wetness pooling down your shorts as you were devoid of panties, just how he liked it.

“Did you fuck yourself with that filthy toy of yours when you missed me?” He asked, his hand coming down to cup your clothed wetness.

“Nana,” you whimpered, body heating up as your eyes teared up with pleasure. You had missed him so much.

It was embarrassing how he knew exactly what you did, using a dildo to replace his huge cock, trying to feel something but you couldn’t. Nothing compared to his cock.

“Did it make you cum?” He asked, jaw clenched as wrapped his fingers around your neck, your eyes almost closed shut with how your body shuddered.

“No,” you whispered, bucking up your hips to meet his palm pathetically.

“That’s right. Now tell me who makes you cum, kitten?” His voice sounded like pure melody, he talked to you as if you were a baby.

“Nana makes me cum s—so hard!” You whimpered, how smirk growing.

That’s all it took for him to rip open your shorts too, your eyes widening as you saw his sleeves tightening with his muscles flexing.

He was so hot.

You didn’t get a chance to mourn for your destroyed clothes as he pushed his two digits right into your cunt, knowing that you’ll easily take him in with your dripping wetness.

He was right.

Your back arched as the room seemed hazy to you, covered with the thick mist of your sinful activities. Your walls clenched, taking his fingers in deeper as you ached for more of him. All of him.

“No bra, no panties,” he said, “just how I like it,” he whispered right in your ear as his hand started to pump in you at a faster pace.

He didn’t stop, muttering the filthiest things in your ear. Something about Jaemin being fully dressed while you were fully naked in front of him felt hot to you. He treated you like a doll.

You whined, stuttering midway at the feeling of your walls squeezing him in, his chuckle only sending you into a frenzy. You were so gone when it came to him.

“I can’t—” you whined, feeling heat pool up in your abdomen.

He chuckled, “not so fast, kitten.”

You took a deep breath, excitement filling up your veins as you saw him remove his clothes, unbutton his shirt to reveal his abs, and unbuckling his belt to get rid of his pants.

You groaned, almost shuddering when you saw his hardened cock, tip angry and leaking as he caught the sight of your wet slit again.

“Nana’s gonna make you cum on his cock,” he grinned.

You looked so innocent to him, desperate for his cock, his touch. Desperate for him. He got on top of you yet again, his hand smoothly taking off your scrunchie, letting your hair free.

“My pretty kitten,” he whispered, successfully capturing all your attention, which was on his face.

It was a given that you didn’t think about the fact that he was going to slam his dick into you so hard that you’d dig your nails into his shoulders, only making him smirk wider.

“So, wet for me,” he bottomed out, thrusting in yet again, hitting your g-spot, as you barely could utter a word, “I knew it, you can’t stay without me, not when you want my cock shoved into you every twenty four hours,” he increased his force, the bed slightly shaking at his intense pace.

The noise of his balls smacking your ass reverberated all over the room as you bit your lip to contain the lewd moans which threatened to escape. He knew your high was near with how your stomach tightened.

He kept his hand on your lower abdomen, getting a feel of how deep his cock is inside you and how your stomach feels so full when he thrusts into you. You could basically see his imprint on your skin.

“Kitten loves it when Nana fucks his babies into her, doesn’t she?” He whispered, kissing a tear on your cheek.

You loved it.

“Say it,” he urged you, eyes demanding.

“I want your babies in me,” you said, voice shaky as he never once stopped thrusting into you.

“That’s my good girl,” he said, his smile turning angelic for just a second before he started ramming his cock into you.

You screamed and moaned, throat hurting as you blacked out for a second, reaching your high as you felt his warm liquid coating your walls, filling you up with a few more thrusts before he held you in his arms, sitting up.

“I knew you had missed me too, kitten,” he smiled.

“Guess we’ll be together forever.”

THANK YOU FOR READING

TAGGING: @ddeonuism @celeste-hoon @en-myworld @jayzdaze @robyn-core

#jaemin smut #nct smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin drabbles #na jaemin #jaemin

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

omg can you write a smutty and fluffy fic about reader discovering that aaron has tattoos under that suit of his and also could he drive a motorcycle 🤭 like imagine aaron having a helmet for her and teasing her on it and her grabbing his hips

Perhaps you're crossing an invisible line when you begin thumbing through the pages of a photo album that had been tucked away beneath Aaron's coffee table, but you're a nosy drunk, and he'd invited you to sit on his couch. It's his fault, really.

Emily peers disinterestedly over your shoulder, only paying attention because it's more entertaining than listening to Spencer talk Star Trek. You find baby pictures of Aaron, grainy photographs of a moderately chubby baby, and your giggle is heavily laden with booze.

After the fifth nondescript baby portrait Emily turns away, and only a few pages later, he's graduating high school. Something is unsettling about the way that his memories had so quickly switched from infant to adult, but his smile is dazzling under the weight of his cap and gown, so you let the uneasy feeling wash away in exchange for some belated pride.

"You're a snoop," Aaron observes, when he comes back from the bathroom to find you transfixed by his photo album. He smiles, his own demeanor loosened by liquor, "That was my graduation day."

"I know,' You gush, "I'm not that drunk."

He rolls his eyes at you, but a grin is firm in place over his lips.

Then you turn the page, and it's not Aaron anymore.

Oh, fuck, it is Aaron. Aaron with tattoos littering his toned torso, jeans hanging low on his hips, a cigarette in his hand and his legs straddling a motorcycle. He's polishing the body, pinning it between his knees to do so.

You hadn't realized your jaw dropped, but it did.

"Those were my teenage dirtbag years," Aaron recalls, with a snort that's a mixture of fondness and ridicule, "I thought I was some rebellious-" His brain falters, failing to provide him with the proper connection, and he falls short, "-Uh, rebel."

"Woah," Is all you can muster, tracing your fingers over the page wistfully. He laughs, and you blink up at him blearily, "Do you still have those?"

He quirks a teasing brow at you, "My tattoos? Well, they're kind of permanent. I thought you said you weren't that drunk?"

"You could have gotten them removed," You grouse, "So... do you?"

"Still have them?" He verifies, and when you nod, he bites back most of the force of his smile, "I do."

"Lemme see." You demand, before you can process that you're asking your boss to take his shirt off. His eyebrows raise, nearly merging with his hairline, and you stammer, "Not- like, I'm just curious, they're so... unlike you."

"I've changed a lot," He lets your slip of the tongue slide and you're grateful for it, "I'll show you one."

You watch with wide eyes - you're not aware that you're gawking at your boss, but you are - as he peels away the hem of his shirt from his skin, exposing black ink that you've never seen before tracking up his torso. It's on the left side of his stomach, near his groin: a pair of handcuffs.

"I was into some weird shit," He muses, tongue loose from the drinks he's had. You don't bother gaping at his unprofessionalism, you're stuck staring at the handcuffs.

"Twenty-year old me thought I was gonna be the one in handcuffs, not the one locking them on people," He laughs, and drops his shirt, covering the tattoo. "So, you have any wild teenage tattoos of your own?"

You're a changed woman. Twenty years ago your boss had been whorishly draped over a motorcycle, handcuffs tattooed above his pelvis. You finish the night out in a trance of absent-minded conversation, but it's less from the liquor and more from the stun of seeing Aaron's past self.

If your boss suddenly notices your eyes roving over the spot where his tattoo lies beneath his button-up from then on, he doesn't say a word.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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frost-queen · 5 months

Text

Bodyguarded // part 2 (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Requested by: @deansapplepie, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @strangerthingslover69, @ankhmutes, @yoowhatthefuck, @sseleniaa

Summary: Daryl and you bond more, but Shane can't seem to stop bothering you. His power act over your playing out. With your brother haven risen from the dead will Shane take a step back? [ read part 1 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5]

“Keep your hand steady.” – Daryl said as his fingers trailed over yours. You were looking at him as he noticed it. With a gentle nudge against your chin, he turned your head. – “Eyes forwards.” – he stated. You nodded willingly trying to supress a smile. You kept your focus to the front as Daryl’s hand went under yours, supporting the gun in your hand.

He neared as you felt his body close in on you. His cheek close to yours. He moved his hand to the top of the gun. – “Try looking for a steady aim.” – he informed you. His hand let go of the gun, pointing at the overly big target up ahead. Seeing how it had set it up made you snort loud. – “What?” – Daryl asked confused with furrowed brows.

You lowered the gun, turning more towards him as you had to break it to him. – “Oh Daryl.” – you began with a breathless laugh. – “What?” – Daryl repeated. You swayed your arm over his shoulder pulling him closer to you. – “My brother is a cop. I know how to shoot sweetheart.” – you confessed with a dazzling smile. – “I mean was…” – you corrected yourself letting your arm fall from around him. – “How come you don’t have a gun?” – Daryl questioned loudly. Finding it very odd. You could’ve easily been an asset in keeping walkers at bay.

You took a deep sigh. – “Well you know Shane. He doesn’t like me holding a gun.” – you told him. Daryl took a deep annoyed sigh. – “But you can always teach me if you like?” – you proposed having rested your hand on his chest. – “It’s no fun now.” – Daryl answered bothered. You grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him nose to nose with you. – “We can always make it fun.” – you replied teasingly. Daryl grabbed your face, pushing your head a bit back.

“Why don’t you show me how you shoot. Sweetheart.” – he added teasingly. Before you could utter another word he spun you around. Pushing you a bit forwards by a push on your bottom. Looking over your shoulder, you gave him a soft glare. Daryl leaned back, chuckling. – “I need to know you’ve got my back.” – he said jokingly. You turned back raising the gun. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three shots were fired in the bag.

You stepped aside to show Daryl. Daryl looked surprised seeing how you had shot the three bullets in a way they looked like a triangle shape was matched in the bag. – “Do I get a reward now?” – you questioned. – “Not bad.” – Daryl responded nearing you. Playfully you shoved Daryl away acting as if it annoyed you. Daryl chuckled grabbing you from behind. Wrapping his arms around you.

His body pressed against your back as his head rested on your shoulder. – “I expect a higher praise from you.” – you said chuckling. Daryl left a tender kiss on your shoulder. – “Or you could continue that.” – you said making Daryl lift his head up with a smirk. He left another tender kiss on your shoulder. Following on to kiss your neck tenderly. Kissing his way up as you tilted your head to the side.

You turned around tapping your lips invitingly. Daryl quirked his eyebrow up. – “Now you are over-doing it Y/n.” – he said turning his head away. You could only stare at him shockingly. Daryl’s lips curled up into a smile as he grabbed a hold of you, kissing you full on the lips.

Daryl and you parted as he nudged you to walk. The two of you made you way back to the others. – “What’s Shane’s deal with you anyways?” – he asked. – “You tell me! I have no idea why he is being such an ass towards me.” – you explained half shouting out the words. – “I hate how he acts towards Carl.” – you continued. – “Like he never had a dad? Honestly Shane is a mystery to me. It’s not like I knew him very well before all this, but now… it seems like he is meddling a bit too much in my family’s life.” – you told Daryl who was listening tentatively.

You sighed loud. Daryl and you emerged from the woods coming back to camp. Dale stood on the caravan, waving at Daryl. – “Duty calls.” – Daryl said to you. You watched him go all smiling. Then you gasped loud feeling the gun being pulled aggressively out of your hands.

“Where did you steal this?” – Shane called out holding the gun up. You had turned around in shock, startled by his sudden closeness to you. – “I didn’t…” – you answered still half in shock. – “Don’t lie to me! You stole this bloody gun. Do you think you are brave enough to shoot it?” – he mocked causing a scene. Noticing how everyone at camp was looking your way. – “You think this is a kid’s toy?” – Shane called out waving the gun around. - “Shane!” – Lori snapped at him, eyeing the curious eyes around him and you.

Shane looked all smug. – “If you want to play guns, we’ll play guns Y/n!” – he grabbed you by the back of your neck, pushing your head down. – “Auntie Y/n!” – Carl shouted out as Lori held him back. – “No Carl! She needs to taught a lesson.” – Shane shouted at him. – “Shane!” – you cried out in agony trying to get his grip off you. Shane saw Daryl storm over, making him aim the gun at him.

“No more protecting her.” – he told him clear. Daryl stopped with a glare. – “I didn’t steal it!” – you called out trying to reason with him. – “Liar!” – Shane yelled at you, pulling a bit at your hair. – “Shane let her go.” – Carol said calmly. – “Shane… Shane…” – Carol kept trying to ask for his attention wanting to tone his temper down.

“Look at Carl.” – she said gesturing at Carl. Shane turned his head seeing how Lori held Carl tight. His cheeks stained with tears. His lips pouting as it hurt his little heart to see Shane hurt you like that. – “Please…” – Carol begged. Shane inhaled deeply through his nose. Suddenly aiming the gun at your head. – “No!” – Carl cried out leaping forwards as Lori had to hold him tighter. Daryl wanted to rush over as Shane stopped him.

“I’ll fire if you come near Dixon!” – he shouted making Daryl stop mid-track. – “Shane put the gun down!” – Lori said loudly hoping she could talk him out of it. You were panting, feeling the tip of the gun press against the back of your head. Bend over you felt your blood go for your head. Shane’s hand still on your neck. – “Not so talkative are we now?” – Shane said to you. Carl was crying his eyes out.

“Are… are you really going to shoot me in front of Carl?” – you breathed out. Daryl tried taking a step closer but Shane was on to him. It made Daryl clench his jaw. – “Shane!” – Lori snapped at him. Shane looked up to her seeing how angry she was looking at him. He started to chuckle slowly removing the gun from against your head. – “I was just playing.” – he said holding the gun up.

The moment you didn’t feel his grip on you anymore, you ran off. Tears in your eyes as this was too much. Shane had crossed a line. Hard. – “Y/n!” – Daryl called out running after you. Lori let go of Carl walking over to Shane. – “It was just a joke.” – he told her chuckling. Lori slapped him across the face. – “A damn cruel one!” – she answered angry. You kept running tears running down your cheek. Never did you think Shane was capable of actually holding a gun up to your head.

The seriousness in his voice frightened you. For a moment you really did think he was going to shoot you in front of everyone. – “Y/n!” – Daryl panted out having come after you. He had followed you into the woods. You weren’t listening to him, wondering off too far. – “Y/n!” – Daryl repeated loud quickening up his pace. The tears were running down your face making you sob breathlessly. You called it out when two arms wrapped around you.

Stopping your mindless running. – “Y/n! Y/n stop.” – Daryl said holding you tight as you tried freeing yourself from him. Sobbing loud you eased down feeling worn out. The energy left your body making you sunk through your knees. Daryl went down with you, keeping you in his arms. Turning your face a bit, you pressed it against his arm, crying your eyes out.

He comforted you, remaining silent as he knew cursing at Shane wouldn’t do you any good now. It took you a lot of effort to get back to camp. You didn’t want to be there knowing Shane was there. Also the fact that everyone had seen it made it even more uncomfortable. You decided to go to the lake sitting by the water.

“Auntie Y/n!” – Carl cried out making you turn your head. He came running over as you got up. His body slammed against yours, arms going round you. He was sobbing loud as you soothed him. – “I’m okay Carl.” – you told him, knowing how frightened he must have been. Carl hugged you tighter, pressing his cheek against your stomach. That night slept Carl in your tent. Partly because you didn’t want to be alone and because he wanted to protect you.

The next morning you all got startled at Glenn honking loud. He had been out for a run, only having returned now. Glenn got out of the car all happy and relieved. Everyone made their way over to him to greet him as it had been a few days since they saw him. You kept your distance a bit, gulping when you noticed Shane coming to stand beside you. – “One day there will be no one around to protect you.” – he said to you. It made you swallow frightened. – “What is your deal against me Shane?” – you asked boldly having enough of his power plays.

He turned his posture more to you taking a deep breath. – “Your attitude!” – he made clear. – “My attitude?” – you repeated confused. You turned more to Shane as well, standing in front of him. You stared at him feeling there was more to it. – “Do… do you feel threatened by me?” – you asked him. Shane laughed mockingly. – “You are NOTHING to me!” – he made clear with a deadly stare. Agitated you wanted to shove him. Shane grabbed a hold of your wrist, twisting it to the side.

“Shane?” – both of you heard clear. It made the two of you look to the side. Your eyes widening. – “Rick?” – you gasped out in shock. Carl was clinging onto him. His other arm around Lori. – “Y/n!” – Rick said relieved as he removed himself from Lori and Carl. Shane let go of your arm aggressively. Rick had seen it making him go up to Shane. – “Why were your hands on my sister?” – he asked calmly but with a soft glare.

Shane puffed loud walking off. Rick stood stunned and baffled at Shane’s behaviour. – “Rick?” – you said again touching his shoulder. Touching him made it all real. Rick turned to you with a relieved smile. The two of you embraced strongly. – “I thought you were dead.” – you told him. – “So did I.” – he answered.

He pulled away touching your face. – “How I am glad to see you alive and well sister.” – he told you making you smile between your tears. A surprise touch made you squeal soft. Carl having wrapped his arms around the both of you. – “Now we are a family again.” – he said happily. – “Yeah we are.” – Rick answered rubbing his hand through his hair. Lori glanced over to Shane seeing how jealous he looked. He brushed it off by walking off the minute he saw the meaning of Lori’s eyes.

-------------------------------------------------

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saltpepperbeard · 7 months

Text

so, hastiness of the sex and the literal and figurative distance that follows aside, something was really bugging me about the morning after. i couldn’t put my finger on it for a while, but now that i’ve sat with things, i think it’s finally clicked in my head:

stede’s reactions to ed’s sweetness. or lack thereof, really.

because goodness, they just slept together. they just bared body and soul to each other. they just survived a dangerous situation and made it to see the sun rise once again. they’ve been through so much, and faced so much adversity.

and despite all they’ve been through, ed is kind. ed is thoughtful, and soft, and sweet. he brings stede breakfast in bed. he tries to make it as pretty as he can. and then weaves beautiful gratitude and admiration in the form of his goldfish tale.

something that should make anyone sigh with fondness, really. something that make eyes flutter with hearts to match.

…and yet.

and yet stede reacts almost…casually to it all. not glittery how he was at the end of episode 5, for example—so warm and so bright and so very clearly in love. it all felt a bit more…stunted? reserved? unnecessarily curt?

and upon sitting with it as i said, i have two lines of thought, two theories.

one, it’s a sort of look into the heightening poison in his system, the good ol’ villain that is toxic masculinity. he feels the need to perform around ed, to be a man worthy of his love. he feels the need to be more than just “adequate,” more than just an “amateur.” and so he feels the need to be more masculine as a result. he’s not quite at his peak of course, not quite in the absolute thick of it—he still has moments closer to himself throughout the day. but the more poisonous seeds have been planted.

and what does that sort of masculinity often lead to? reserved emotions. stunted reactions. you’re not allowed to show vulnerability, or softness, or anything of the sort; you’re expected to be just a wall of strength and flat composure.

which, also, would align with the show: ed actively tries to combat that mentality in the morning. he straight up tells stede that the man who saved him was a fantastic, orange, sparkly mermaid. not some swashbuckling hero. not some colder, mysterious, more reserved man. but a beautiful, soft, dazzling goldfish.

and stede sort of just shrugs it off—turns it into a “well i hope we’ll both get through the violence” as opposed to realizing that ed is complimenting his true character.

but that brings me to my second theory: maybe stede reacts the way he does simply because…he’s never been loved like that before. he doesn’t know what to do with it. he’s never been brought breakfast in bed before, and now there ed goes doing so for him.

he seems to be fine when he's the one in the driver's seat. like, he's very romantic when he's dealing out the romance. but the second it's turned back on him, he can't seem to conceptualize it, even when it's coming from a man he knows he's in love with. like, ed complimenting his shirt led to a more incredulous reaction. ed saying that stede wears fine things well also led to a more incredulous reaction. and like...

"then you shaved your beard off...for me?"

he just can't grasp it. he can't grasp something so new and foreign to him quite yet. and it's of course also wrapped up in a lot of self-worth issues, because how can anyone love him when he really doesn't love himself (which i think is also the same for ed. help them. HELP THEM)

you just...can't catch a fish unless the fish wants to be caught.

#OFMD #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD S2 Spoilers #Stede Bonnet #Gentlebeard #Blackbonnet #Edward Teach #Revenge Rambles #morning lol MORNING #THIS IS A LOOOONG ONE #and maybe a little disjointed please excuse #but like lol man #MAN #I AM //LOOKING//#these two really have so SO much to work through huh #continuing to light the candles for a season 3 manifestation as we speak because goodness gracious

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running-with-kn1ves · 1 year

Note

Got me awe struck how you write so well kinda wish i had that skill too! Anyway, how about boyfriend praising reader(who felt insecure) starting from sweet then getting creepier. Like something in the lines of "praising their kindness, so lucky to have them" to "he knows , he will kill for them."

A/N: A/N: sacrificed my soul for this one and it didn't turn out as slayful as I wanted.. Anyway, I hope this is what you were thinking anon :D sorry for any mistakes and thank you!

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's compliment goes a little too far when he tries to cheer you up.

T/W: Mildly graphic threats of violence, forced kissing, manipulation, insecure reader, yandere themes/behaviors

WC:3000

You found yourself in a bathroom stall for the fifth time in one evening, sitting on the toilet with your head in your hands. You just wanted it all to go away: the people, the drinks, the music that boomed in your ears. You had already stained your sequined clothes with spilt champagne earlier that night, the stickiness of it on your chest beginning to mix with the thick sweat crawling down your neck. It was too damn hot in here, the buzz of the bathroom fan making you claw at your updone hair.

The mass amounts of club goers here were far more accustomed to this lifestyle than you. Which was intimidating, to say the least. They all looked so perfectly dolled up-- not a smudge of makeup out of place, delicious scents of colognes and perfumes mixing together. Not to mention, they could hold their alcohol far better than you could.

One bitter cocktail and you were already hazy-eyed, your face warm and balance a little loopy. You were by no means drunk, but the contents of your drink had certainly offered a level of instability to your emotions and movements.

The image of men in their chic dress shirts that showed hours of gym time and girls in their tight party dresses made you want to curl up in the corner and marinate in self-pity. It was hard not to compare yourself, not when you spent hours searching for the right clothes that would fit with your boyfriend’s stylish accents, constantly perfecting your concealer to hide the dark bags beneath your eyes.

And yet, even with your hard work, you still felt out of place, still felt the pinch of hundreds of passing stares and biting grins of condescension as you stood next to your overly charismatic significant other.

Through your pounding headache and shaky breaths, You could hear the winding creak of the bathroom door being pushed open.

Narrow-footed shoes echoed on the white tile floor, slowly passing each bathroom stall and sink basin.

“Sweetheart?” A voice questioned. “You in here?”

You stayed silent, covering your mouth and lifting your feet from the floor. You didn’t want him to know you had spent the past 20 minutes in here wiping away stinging tears from your eyes, shoving paper towels down the front of your dazzling shirt to soak up champagne. You smelled like alcohol and whatever cleaner they used to permeate the bathroom with, and it certainly wouldn’t be a sight that you wanted your boyfriend to see.

However, despite your attempts to make yourself disappear, you saw his clubbing shoes patiently make their way to the front of your stall. You looked within the separating crack of the door and the wall, seeing a blur of black clothes and sun-kissed skin. Your eyes focused and without warning you made eye contact with him, his face showing a worried, yet sly grin. He was waiting-- peering in on you sitting there in ruin.

You jolted in surprise, your foot slipping from the toilet seat as you looked away. You hoped if you moved fast enough, that maybe he would think you were someone else.

“C’mon, let me in.” He pressed against the door, trying to open it from the outside.

Well, seemed like tricking him didn’t work.

“Don’t come in here Ezra! I--” You weren’t sure how to convince him to go away. “I don’t want you to see me.”

He went quiet, keeping his hand atop the door handle and watching the door.

“Why not?”

Panic rose in your chest again, forcing you to try to come up with a way to get him to leave you alone, atleast long enough to make yourself look presentable.

“I-... I just--”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t make fun of you or anything, just open the door,” He raddled the handle, pressing his face against the crack of the door.

“Don’t!” You shout, trying to cover the crack with your hands.

Your boyfriend let out a low grunt, annoyed at your stubbornness.

He tried rattling the door once more, pulling hard enough to make the hinges creak. You feared that if he pulled any harder, he might rip the entire door off.

“You’ve been in there for almost a half hour,” Ezra impatiently replied, putting his hand on the top of the stall door. “If you don’t open up, I’m going to force my way in there.”

He began to pull, jerking the door hard enough that the other stalls began to clatter.

“No-- wait okay okay okay!” You panicked, trying to pry his hand away from the top of the door.

Instantaneously he grabbed your wrist, pulling it upward to get a good handle on you. His fingers were warm, as if he had his hands clenched for a long period of time.

“I’m not letting go until you do.” He said coldly, squeezing your hand. He was serious, holding your wrist securely enough to show he meant business: he’d stand there all night if that's what it took. Your several disappearances had worried him enough.

His thumb moved up to caress the dip in your palm, turning your hand to face outwards. Ezra’s face was still pressed up against the door crack, looking to provoke you further out.

Stomping your foot, you wracked your brain for something-- anything, to deter him away. But the lingering threat of his hand left your mind to draw a blank.

“....Fine.” You mutter, pulling the paper towels out of your chest. You try to wipe away any leftover tears, but you know it does little to lessen the redness of your eyes.

With a shaky breath, you ask him to stand back, and slowly unlock the door. Purposely taking as long as possible, you keep your feet moving at an inchworm's pace, hardly stepping away from the stall.

Your boyfriend tears open the stall door now that its unlocked, not yet releasing your arm.

You see his figure in front of you but refuse to look up, instead turning away and allowing him to drag you out of the small confines of the stall. He pulls you to the large sink basins, reaching for your chin. You flinch a little as he turns your head, looking at your tear stricken face. You felt like a mess, but he didn’t seem to change expression as you stared back.

“Now, what’s been the matter sweetheart?”

You feel the cold of his rings against your balmy cheeks, his thumb running over your wet eyelashes to brush away unfallen tears.

“I just don’t feel good…” You say, relishing in the affection, even though it makes your stomach churn.

“What doesn't feel good?” He asks, letting go to inspect the rest of you.

You relax against the low counter, feeling it hit your tailbone.

“Did someone hurt you?” He searches your body for marks. “Are you feeling sick? Had too much to drink, baby?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a child answering to their mother.

“You’re going to have to tell me what it is, then. I can’t read your mind.” He lightly scolds.

There’s a gentleness in the deep vibrato of his voice as he bares the blunt words, looking at you with an expectant gaze.

You fidget a tad, beginning to pace in a small two-step dance.

“I just--” You turn away, fidgeting with your fingers. “I feel, ridiculous.”

You move to grasp your forehead, avoiding your boyfriends gaze.

“Dressed up in this stupid get up, surrounded by these people who-- who I don’t belong next to, who make me look like a fool for being here…!”

You fold your arms over your chest defensively, turning away from the man.

“Did you see the way everyone was looking at me? I looked so stupid, standing next to you! Or even next to them, as if I could convince them that I belong here, next to someone of their own.” You turned to stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person who stared back. “I just.. I don’t belong here, with you… with these people… I feel absurd for even trying.”

You hear your voice shake at the last few words, not realizing you were getting worked up enough to cry. But then there it was, that burning in your nose and the blurriness of tears in your eyes. You felt your face scrunch and tense up, the ugliness of your cries breaking out to make you feel even smaller.

Putting a hand to your mouth and turning away from the mirror, you hoped your boyfriend hadn’t seen or heard the way you appeared ready to sob.

But a heavy, commanding hand pulled your shoulder back, turning you around with ease as you let your body fall to whatever whims he desired.

Your nose was shoved against Ezra’s chest as he pushed your head against him, wrapping his arms around you. He stroked your hair, pushing it off your sweaty skin. It was almost suffocating, the way he trapped you against him. But it made you feel secure, knowing that he couldn’t see your face full of tears and shame, that you didn’t have to continue to spill your heart out to him.

“Baby….” He said. It was in such a soft, understanding tone that you didn’t think it came from his lips at first. “How could you ever, ever, compare yourself to these… strangers?”

You sniffled against his dress shirt, hiding yourself in his chest and expensive cologne, a scent so familiar and potent that it put your body at ease.

“I mean, you? Versus them? These half drunken idiots who can barely hold themselves up?” Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking slightly against you. “Darling why would you ever want to be like them?”

You wiped your eyes, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“I thought thats what… you wanted. How else am I supposed show up when I meet your friends.” You mumbled.

Your boyfriend pulls your chin, lifting you to face him.

“I brought you here to meet everyone because I wanted them to meet you, not whatever persona the rest of the assholes here portray.”

You looked away, letting his words sink in.

“Besides, they were only looking at you because you were the most captivating thing in that room,” He ran his pointer finger over your bottom lip, the cold of his rings hitting the bitten skin.

“The most,” He cut himself off with a kiss to your neck. “Stunning,” kiss, ” “kind,” another kiss, “and amazing thing in that room. They were just how awestruck I was when I first saw you.”

He softened as he saw you squeeze your lips shut, preventing a smile from escaping.

“Though I won’t let them make the same moves on you like I did.” He joked, laughing as he saw you roll your eyes.

Brushing his thumb on your cheek, Ezra took away the remnants of tears. A pit of shame grew in your stomach when you saw him frown at your saddened state.

“But listen,” He bent closer to your face, shifting his warm hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, hands down. And I wouldn’t trade any of the bastards in here for you, so enough self-loathing.”

Your cheeks squish as he pressed his palms against them, forcing your head to nod as you went limp.

“Good.” He smiled, grinning at how you seemed to wait for his next response.

You let him let go, even though you wanted to stay in that position of safety for longer.

He ruffled your hair back in place, fixing the few scraggled strands that he could. Ezra talked while fetching a paper towel to clean the goo beneath your eyes, originally from your tears.

“I mean, honestly, do you think I wouldn’t kill the bastards in here if they tried to look at you wrong? Come on, no way I would let that slide.”

You smiled at hearing that, thinking he was just being dramatic.

Paper towel in hand, Ezra lifted you up from the ground slightly. He put you down on the sink counter, keeping his hands planted to the sides of your abdomen.

Letting out a low laugh, he continues to wipe away at your eyes. His demeanor shifted to be quieter; something you aren't used to from your blab of a boyfriend.

Dark hair covers to his eyelids, sticking to his skin as the heat from the bathroom has begun to her to him.

The humming of the bathroom fan is all that fills the room for a few moments, Ezra’s concentration on your eyes leaving you both quiet. Though, you could tell he still had something he wanted to say.

"I mean, you don't understand how many times I've had the urge to mutilate the men in this club for staring at you, just from tonight alone" he licked his lips, curling his unmoving hand beside you. He seemed to be… nervous. "I'd pull their teeth out first, working my way down. Tearing each fingernail off one by one, pulling the veins from their wrists… I'd remove anything they have to witness you with."

He looked back up at you, staring within your eyes as if he was lost in them, as if he was looking inside of you. Despite his tender look that seemed to crave your cooperation, that should have made you blush– your smile fell. The warmth once spreading in your chest was now going cold, sinking to your stomach.

"You captivated the whole room, and I can't stand it…" he didn't seem to notice your fallen expression, or the shaking in your hands on the counter. "I hate the way they can hear your laugh, sit beside you and feel your warmth… how you can smile at them and let them make you feel as if you aren't the best thing to ever walk into this club. I hate it so fucking much."

Your boyfriend trailed his finger down the sequins on your clothes, trying to hold himself back from getting too close.

You shifted uncomfortably as your he leaned up close to your mouth, just far away enough to where he couldn't indulge in how badly he wanted to kiss you. There was this suffocating desire inside his chest to paint his claim violently upon your body in this bathroom right now, to let you walk put of this club with everyone staring at the little pieces of him only, forcing them all to know who you really belong to.

You didn't know what to say to his confession…. Should you thank him? Run away? Beg him to go to therapy?

Instead you stayed quiet, searching for the right words to not tick him off, now that you knew what he was potentially…. Capable of.

"They want to hurt you, to use you and then throw you away like some brainless sex doll. They only have bad intentions, baby."

Your boyfriend slid down to your knees, crouching down as you sat on the counter above him. He pulled your left leg toward him gently, kissing up from your ankle, to your shin, to your knee.

"But i'll take care of you, I won't let you be tricked.."He looks up at you with fluttering lashes, raising your leg ever so slightly to press his lips against your inner thigh.

"You know how much I adore you… right?"

Your skimpy clothes gave him even more access than you felt comfortable with, seeing the adoration pulsate within his eyes and the desperation in his hands.

"Of course," you reply, hesitantly bringing a hand up to his cheek, hoping he wasn't thinking of murdering you too in this bathroom.

His warm, damp hands molded the flesh of your bare thighs in his fingers, pushing in between the tight layer of where your tiny shorts and your skin meet, trying to dig beneath them. He wanted to hold all of you, to keep you in his arms so you couldn't even think of leaving, of running to someone else.

"You know that I'd never hurt you… that I only want what's best for you… that I'd kill for you--…" he mumbles the last bit, pressing your hand deeper against his cheek as he looks up from below at you, giving a cheeky grin.

You nod your head, hoping his homicidal thoughts were just that-- thoughts.

He was quick to fool you again with that sweet, lovely smile that seemed to bask in your presence, the smile that made you feel like the most desirable person in the world. No matter how many threats he gave out they never seemed to deter the fact that his soft, adoring expression made you feel like he'd choose you in a room full of thousands.

Your small assurance gave him the confidence to press his head further between your legs, running kisses back up from your knee to your thigh.

He trailed up your skin, kisses growing hungry. Pulling your sequined shorts, your boyfriend buried his head between your thighs– trying to get where he knows he'll have full control over you.

"Not here," you said breathlessly and bewildered, trying to push away his head. "We can't do that here–!"

His hair was soft, even with the thin spread of gel that kept it in place as you ran your hands down to his neck. Tugging at tufts of his hair and using your legs to push him away, you found little to nothing dispirited him.

"Just let me show how much I love you..."

Each time you tried to use your knee to push him, Ezra pushed it against the sink countertop with the heavy weight of his hand. He looked up at you with a sick grin that meant: “just try and beat me.” A part of you felt panicked, not just from the compromising position-- but from how insistent he was. Like he was trying to prove something to you.

It wasn't until the echo of the bathroom door swinging open and hitting the wall, did he lift his head. His eyes went wide, jaw clenching as he whipped around to look. The fearful expression would've been funny if you weren't just as scared.

You quickly jumped off the counter and pulled your shorts back into position, watching to see someone peak around from the corner. But the sounds of drunken laughter faded away, and no one made themselves apparent.

You and Ezra sighed simultaneously, the heat from the stuffy bathroom showing to have been too much for the both of you.

He reached for your hand, pulling you towards him. Ezra goes quiet, and you keep your gaze to the ground. He had shown sides of himself tonight that you weren’t exactly sure how to process.

“Lets just go home, okay?” Ezra says after a few moments, whispering with a grin.“I wanna finish what we started.”

What were you to say? You stuttered, thinking to protest, to run away or maybe even admit how afraid you were.

But with a kiss to your sweaty forehead, your boyfriend slung his arm over your shoulder and began leading you to the exit of the bathroom.

Your feet had moved on your own, your mouth still lingering to form words. As Ezra opened the door, the stench of alcohol and cheap perfume hit you once again.

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mykneeshurt · 7 months

Note

Can u PLEASE write me a little drabble abt Simon with his wife (me)?? Maybe some fighting, ft. Some makeup sex??? Thanks bestie 🫶🏻

Bestie am so sorry this has taken months. It’s been half done in my notes for ages. But it’s done! I hope you enjoy ❤️

Mine

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, jealous behaviour (we do not like this in relationships irl)

Gaz sat opposite you, smiling as he nursed a pint of Guinness. The busy hum of the pub buzzed around you both, the joyful laughter of jokes shared, the clinking of glasses and the gleeful rowdiness of patrons enjoying their time together. This was your favourite pub, built in 1800, dark beams adorned the ceiling and a gorgeous stone fireplace hugged the corner.

You sipped your wine, the warm hug of alcohol coursed through you as you allowed the tangy taste wash over your tastebuds. This was your fourth? Fifth glass of wine? You were waiting for the rest of the boys to turn up, to celebrate a mission well done. Soap was going to be late, of course, and the Captain was on his way. No word from Ghost though, something you were used to.

Gaz glanced down at the sparkling band on your left hand. ‘How is married life then?’ Smiling you shrugged ‘exactly the same.’ He let out a hearty laugh ‘well that’s a good thing! Just goes to show a piece of paper doesn’t mean a thing. Is he just as allusive at home as he is in work? Ghost by name Ghost by nature?’

‘Actually no, and he’s not that allusive in work. He just likes to get the job done. And anyway…’ you smirked as you tapped his knee ‘I don’t kiss and tell.’

Gaz rolled his eyes, blinding you with his dazzling smile. If Ghost hadn’t have made a move on you, you would have definitely asked Gaz out. You worked for the intelligence sector, which is how you met Taskforce 141. Laswell introduced you during a briefing and the rest was history. You gelled well with the team, dishing out the banter just as well as you took it. Calm, collected and logical, you were an asset to them and they knew it.

‘So…’ you asked inquisitively ‘how’s your lady friend? Is it still going well?’ Gaz dropped his shoulders before he lowered his gaze. ‘Nah, we split up last week. I’m ok though.’

‘Oh Gaz! I’m so sorry! What happened?’ You asked as you pulled him into a hug. ‘Eh. Just wasn’t meant to be. Plenty other fish in the sea. I’ll be fine. Promise.’ While you believed him he still looked crestfallen, you knew how much he liked her.

Before long Soap and the Captain joined you, pints in hand as they scooted around the table. ‘Know when he’ll be joining us?’ Soap asked as he took a long sip. ‘No idea, you know what he’s like. He just materialises out of no where. Still does it to me in the house, can’t hear the fucker’ you giggled. The boys followed suit, laughing into their drinks at the expense of your husband.

Your husband who had been watching you from a small corridor next to the bar. Having felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention you gazed around the room. Until your eyes connected with his, a devilish twinkle illuminating within the darkness. He stood leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, biceps bulging beneath his black t-shirt.

With a swift ‘excuse me gentleman, need to use the ladies room’, you scurried to the toilet. But before you could enter he pinned you against the wall. ‘How the fuck do you do that?! You just fucking appear!’ Your tone was half playful, half annoyed. He ran his thumb along your jaw, ‘not here.’

Pulling you through a door he very hastily led you to the cellar. Dull lightbulbs barely lit the damp and musty cellar, plenty of dark corners amongst the barrels and crates of alcohol. ‘What are you doing?’ You huffed as you skipped wooden steps to keep up with him. His hand gripped your arm tightly. Almost possessively. ‘Simon for fucks sake!’

He swung you round a corner and pushed you up against the stone wall, both hands placed next to your shoulders as he crowed you in. ‘Havin fun with Gaz eh? Didn’t think he was your type.’ He chewed his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line. ‘You better not be implying what I think you are’ you spat back.

‘You tell me. Patting his knee, hugging him for everyone to see.’ He lowered his lips to your ear, breath tickling the fine hairs on your neck, ‘you’re mine.’

Raising your ring finger you waved it in front of his face ‘I told you, till death to us part, and that will be here much sooner than you think unless you take it back.’ Holding your ground you stared up at your husband, daring him to imply something else. ‘Now can we go?’

As you went to leave he gripped your hair, pulling your neck back forcing you to look at him. This time against your will. ‘I take it back sweetheart, but first I think you need reminding of who you belong to.’ A wicked grin spread across his lips, that glint in his eye you knew all too well twinkled in the low light of the cellar. ‘Don’t you?’ He cocked his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes.

Hovering his lips barely above yours he whispered ‘I’m gonna fuck you. You’re gonna thank me. And you’re gonna sit next to Gaz with my cum dripping out of your beautiful pussy. Understand?’ Every word was perfectly spoken, his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth with every syllable.

Your mouth suddenly went dry, all moisture having suddenly evaporated. Pressing your thighs together you desperately tried to relieve the ache in your groin. But it was no use. ‘Yes’ you barely managed to whisper back ‘please.’

With an arrogant scoff he smiled as he placed his lips on yours. His kiss invaded your senses, his taste; a weak sting of bourbon, his smell; a mixture of fresh linen and sandalwood, his touch; firm, soft but demanding. Coaxing your mouth open he slowly worked his tongue into it, rolling it on top of yours, leading the dance between them. Making you deepen the kiss before he snatched it away, his kisses moved to your jaw, to your neck, to your ear. ‘Bet you’re fuckin soaking’ he muttered before nipping your ear.

And soaking you were.

A small moan escaped you which only confirmed his statement. With one hand on his shoulder you kept the other on the cold damp wall, something to try and keep you grounded. The muffled sounds of conversation upstairs penetrated the floorboards, reminding you how close you were to every Tom, Dick and Harry. You couldn’t lose yourself here, not like you wanted to.

With your mind being lost somewhere in between nirvana and reality, you hadn’t even noticed that he’d undone your jeans and was gently working his hand towards your pulsing core. Before any words of objection could even be spoken he’d moved your panties to the side and swiped a finger along your slit. A whine, much louder than you’d wanted slipped past your lips. Causing him to place a firm hand over them. ‘Shhhh sweetheart. Don’t wanna be caught do we?’

Shaking your head you tried desperately to keep composure as he slipped his fingers inside. Slowly but firmly he began to work up to a rhythm he knew you loved so well. Rolling your hips closer to him your chest heaved, his fingers filled you perfectly, they reached every spot you needed them to. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit, adding a welcome wave of pressure as he continued working your cunt with one hand.

He removed his hand from your mouth, instead muffling your moans with his lips, his tongue, inhaling every sound with each kiss. Your mouths moved together in unison, deep and passionate.

This was exactly why you married him.

You allowed yourself to give into the pleasure, to feel every movement, every inch of his skin on yours. So much in fact when the door to the cellar opened you jumped, instantly trying to push him away. But he relented. Staring at him, eyes wide with panic he carried on, but slower. The person came down the rickety stairs and began searching for something. All the while Simon was knuckle deep in your cunt, feeling now tight you were getting.

The thought of getting caught was turning you on.

He kept going, adding more pressure to your clit. Your breath staggered, chest tight with anxiety or adrenaline you weren’t sure. But you were close, that you knew for certain. The person moved closer and closer to your position, which only spurred him on further. You could see their outline creeping further and further towards you. Again you tried to stop him, but he relented, instead placing a finger to his lips. Your hips squirmed beneath him, you high creeping closer and closer. That tightly wound spring ever so close to snapping. The walls felt like they were closing in, your hearing was replaced by white noise as tiny prickles of light invaded your vision.

He shook his head, knowing full well you were about to cum. Within the panic you faintly heard the person leave the cellar, the door closing with a click. ‘Fuck sake Simon!’ You panted, ‘that was so fucking close! We need to leave.’ Nipping your neck once more he spun you in one fluid movement, so you were now bent against the wall. Cheek pressed firmly into the cool stone. He snaked his hand through your hair forcing you to arch your back. ‘Not till I see my cum dripping outta that divine cunt love.’

A pathetic whine left your throat.

Pulling your jeans and panties down he held you in place with one arm. His belt and jeans rustled behind you and with one push he bottomed out inside you. Both of you released a breathy gasp at the very welcome feeling. ‘Si … oh fuck’ you moaned, voice cracking under the pressure. ‘Shit’ he muttered under his breath as he began to thrust. Calculated thrusts, firm, demanding and possessive, just like his kisses. You knew he was sending message, and it was clearly received.

You were his.

He was yours.

‘Touch yourself. Cum on this cock sweetheart’ he drawled, voice slurred and thick. You dropped your hand and began to play with your clit, your lost climax suddenly rushing back. He kept his pace, thrusting deeper into you with each movement. The sound of your pussy devouring his cock echoed in the cellar. ‘Fuck you’re so good. Pussys made for me eh?’

You tried to answer but no words would materialise. Eyes rolled back in your head, hair tussled and pussy dripping as he expertly brought you closer to euphoria. Instead small broken cries filled the silence in between thrusts. ‘Fuck … gonna … cum Si … don’t stop’ you barely managed to whisper. ‘That’s it, just like that sweetheart, lemme feel it.’

With a final stroke to your clit the white noise returned, the walls closed in and your breath caught in your throat as you came around him. A strangled yet muffled cry oozed from you, you bit into your arm to stifle the noises. ‘Good fucking girl’ he praised, you could hear the smirk in his voice. Cocky prick.

He wasn’t far behind, his thrusts suddenly became longer, sloppier, messy. To help him along you arched your back further, tightening your pussy around him. He choked out a moan as he fell over the edge. You felt him cum inside you, filling you completely. Looking over your shoulder at him you met his gaze, slight disbelief at what you’d just done, but filled with so much love and adoration.

‘Have you got a tissue?’ You asked whilst trying to catch your breath. With a light spank he hit your bare ass, ‘I meant it love. You’re gonna sit next to him with my cum dripping out of you.’ Scoffing at him you braced yourself as he pulled out, but not before he placed a tender kiss on the small of your back.

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