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hisui-dreamer · 7 months

Note

Okay so we've got headcanons with the twst vices tickling their S/O, now we need the reverse. How do these boys react to getting tickled?

pay attention!

Characters: Vice-dorm Leaders (Trey, Ruggie, Jade, Jamil, Ortho, Rook, Lilia)

Synopsis: When your lover isn't paying attention to you, what better way to get their attention than a tickle attack?

Tags: tickling, fluff, crack(?)

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: wooo the long awaited tickling headcanons!! sorry it took me so long to finish the series hehe, hope you enjoy it!!

Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

ticklish rating: 3/10

there's a new dessert Trey has been experimenting with lately, but it hasn't been easy

so recently, he's always got his nose stuck in a recipe book when you're with him

this means less cuddles and affection, which upset you a bit

as he hums in response to your questions and conversation attempts, you start to understand why he was upset the other day

but also, isn't this a perfect time for revenge?

you quietly approach him, trying to stifle your laughter, but really with how focused he was, he probably wouldn't have heard it

your fingers dance over his sides and under his arms, wriggling about to find his weak spots

but instead of laughing, he jumps and shrieks at your attack

"Huh? Woah there! What was that for, sweetcakes?"

you continue trying to find a ticklish spot but his face remains confused, smiling wryly at your antics

oh dear, it turns out he's not ticklish at all???

the recipe book is long forgotten at this point, but now you just want to get a reaction out of him

so begins you trying to tickle all spots that you can think of, while he sits still and watches as you experiment around

you try drawing gentle circles with your finger onto his palm

he lets out a laugh at your soft caresses

!!! HE HAS SENSITIVE HANDS!!!

Trey's eyes widen in surprise as your fingers flutter gently on his palm. His initial confusion is quickly replaced with a soft chuckle and a look of wonder. "Okay, wait, that felt slightly ticklish," he admits.

But he immediately regrets admitting that to you, because the next second you're doubling your efforts to make him laugh. He tries to fend off your tickles, but you're determined to gain his attention.

"Okay, okay, you win!" he gasps between laughs. "I guess I deserved that. You got my attention, all right." He sighs in relief when your fingers pull back, "Now then, will it be better if we study the book together?"

ticklish rating: 9/10

you can't really blame Ruggie for always being busy and not having enough time for you

he's consistently on the move, managing errands and making the most out of every opportunity

but on some days he's just so busy that you can only see glimpses of him or he's just that focused that he can't even see you

unfortunately, today is one of those days

ruggie has zipped past you no less than three times, each time running a different errand, buying Leona lunch, picking dandelions, among other tasks

so by the next time you see him, you've already formulated a plan to get his attention

he's in his PE uniform this time, and once you manage to grab onto his shirt to stop him, you reach out and start tickling him, just like he did to you the other day

Ruggie yelps in surprise and laughter "Wha- It's you- Wait- Shyahahaha! What the-?"

he tries to squirm away but can't help but laugh, especially as you start tickling his ears

his tough exterior melts away into the infectious hyena laughter that you love

thank goodness you attacked him in a secluded area, his pride would've been so hurt otherwise

Ruggie erupts in a burst of laughter, losing his grip on the stack of books he's lugging. His ears perk up, and his tail thrashes excitedly as he attempts to evade your tickling fingers.

He turns to face you with wide grey eyes, a mix of confusion, shock, and amusement on his face. "Hey, what's the big idea?" he grumbles, though there's a playful glint in his eyes that can't be denied.

"Oh jeez, I didn't realise I was that busy..." he mutters with a tinge of guilt. "Alright, meet me in Savanaclaw at 5! I promise I'll make it up to ya!" He says determined. He places a quick peck on your lips, before running off to another task once again.

ticklish rating: 2/10

it's another hectic day in octavinelle, azul has big plans to boost sales through some new marketing tactic

and this of course means that Jade has become incredibly busy with these plans

normally you would greatly enjoy watching your beloved in his business mode, with polite smiles as he greeted customers, effortless smooth gestures as he glided across the room which would melt into genuine, loving glances when he turned to you

but this time, you really did need to talk to him about your new terrarium and how it looked more and more dead by day

but each time, before the question could even escape your lips, another errand in need of the vice-housewarden's help magically appears

so you took the chance to tackle him when he went into the supply closet (knowing he would not appreciate being dishevelled in public), fingers wriggling around his sides to try to make the fearsome eel crumble in laughter

but instead, he's completely silent, just his pair of mismatched eyes wide open, curiously focused on you

a wry smile forms on his face as he says teasingly, "My, I regret to inform you my pearl, but moray eels are immune to tickling,"

you freeze at his words. uh oh

Before you can even react, he swiftly sweeps you off your feet and carries you toward the VIP room. "Oh dear, I've been a terrible lover, haven't I? It appears I'll have to neglect my responsibilities for a bit..." he sighs, his brows knitted with concern. He continues in a hushed tone, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "Though I admit I would prefer to remain by your side as well,"

"Hm...?" He hums, his lips curving into a mischievous smile as you nuzzle into his neck, concealing your face. "Are my kisses ticklish, perhaps?" He pauses, then continues with a teasing tone, "Well, I suppose it's only fair, considering my dearest pearl has initiated an attack as well."

"By all means, I'd like to see you find my ticklish spots. Though you must be prepared, love, there is no deed I would not return," he grins mischievously, thoroughly enjoying how flustered you are.

ticklish rating: 9/10

it's not surprising your lover doesn't always have time for you

ever the dutiful servant, Jamil works every second of his life to serve kalim in every sense of life

it's something you'd long accepted since being in a relationship with him, but you can't deny you find yourself feeling lonely when he prepares feast after feast for scarabia

plus you know he likes it when you're selfish and want to monopolise his attention

you find your beloved standing by a large pot of stew on the stove, unfazed by your presence

you try calling out to him, but he's completely unresponsive Jamil are you okay

you tickle his sides for a bit, trying to gauge a reaction, but he instantly jumps and squeals "AHHHH! WHA-"

whoops turns out he's really ticklish

he relaxes when he sees it's you, and automatically starts leaning onto you, the fatigue weighing his body down

maybe you shouldn't tickle him too much for now

"I'm sorry I've been so busy lately, I just want to make everything perfect for Scarabia," he murmurs, a faint smile gracing his lips as he nuzzles into your embrace. "But I'm so grateful you're here. I missed you too."

"Really? Are you sure you don't mind helping out?" He looks up at you with those warm, expressive eyes, his gratitude evident. "Thanks... I really appreciate it,"

His hands find yours, clasping them gently. He leans his forehead against yours as he whispers, "I promise. I'll make more time for us, I swear."

ticklish rating: ???

Rook can always find beauty in everything and anything, so it's not unusual for him to be distracted

though you sometimes do wish you were the only one he would have his eyes on

but you wouldn't change him for the world, because his delight in even simple details is so infectious you can't help but want to stay by his side and listen to him rant on and on

still, that doesn't stop you from getting jealous of the person at the centre of his attention, mainly from magazines about a certain actor in RSA

so you decided to get his attention by tickling him, because maybe it could surprise your ever-careful hunter?

your fingers lightly danced along his sides, staring as his watchful eyes directed their gaze towards you

"Trickster! Oh dear, I'm quite ticklish!"

...so he says, but he's hardly flinching away from your touch at all

you try shifting your hands to other sensitive areas, but his lips simply curl into an affectionate smile, and he gently clasps your hands

you're not sure if he's lying or not, but you definitely have his attention now

"Oh là là! How daring of you, Trickster! To sneak up on a hunter like myself... Beauté! Your boldness is very attractive!" Rook exclaims, his eyes twinkling teasingly.

"Mon cœur, you always find the most charming ways to capture my attention," Rook says, his voice filled with tenderness. "But if it's my attention you seek, you have it, my darling, always."

"Now, is there something you would like to do in the moment?" he asks, gently planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "Personally, I wouldn't mind losing myself in your eyes..."

ticklish rating: 0-7/10

it started off really simple, Ortho was just busy researching new strats for idia to try in a newly released game

but the game was open-world, so there was a lot of information to sift through

so in a light-hearted attempt to get his attention, you tried tickling him

only you forgot he's not ticklish at all

"Huh? What's wrong? Why are tickling me? I'm not ticklish at all," he asks, tilting his head in confusion

you laugh as you explain it's just a fun thing friends do, but you've only made him more interested

he goes back to idia that night, asking him about friends and tickling

sure, big bro's not the best person to ask when it's about friendships, but he tries his best with his anime knowledge

and so ortho now wants a tickle response system so he can simulate being like real friends! and who is idia to deny him

the next day, ortho runs up to you excitedly

"Prefect! Go ahead, tickle me!" Ortho's voice rings out with excitement, his eyes shimmering like a pair of bright stars in the night sky.

Confused, you hesitantly reach out to tickle his sides like you did the day before. He instantly erupts in laughter, "Ahahaha! I'm ticklish now! It's a success!"

"How is it? Doesn't this make me more like a real boy now? We can have tickle flights now!" he exclaims. "My brother is so amazing!"

ticklish rating: 2/10

as much as you loved Lilia, you physically could not love his cooking

though that sentiment could be shared by many, even silver and sebek

so it's not uncommon for you to be called in to distract Lilia from whatever dish he has set his mind on mutilating

whatever distraction you come up with, it must be surprising and fun, he's notorious for brushing aside feeble attempts, determined to perfect his culinary concoctions

so, why not try tickling him?

this time, he's trying to remake a lemon tart he had sampled many years ago in his travels

though you're not sure what's compelling him to add pepper to the lemon curd (to give it more flavour he says...)

but as usual, the recipes aren’t nearly nutritious enough!

as he's scavenging around for 'nutritious ingredients' to add to the mix, you sneak close to him and start your attack, wriggling your fingers at his neck

"Ahaha! My dear, what's the matter?" He laughs gently, turning around to face you

but before you can even react, he's got both you hands pinned above your head, a devilish grin on his face

"Playing such tricks on an old man like me? You youngsters always trying to keep me on my toes, I see." he hums thoughtfully. "Though I suppose this means it's only fair if I return the favour, khehehe..."

His hands dance around your sensitive areas, his eyes keen on your reactions. With a wry, knowing grin, he asks, "Oh? It seems you're quite ticklish here?" A mischievous twinkle dances in his eyes. "Don't complain now, you're the one who tried to attack this poor defenseless fae."

By the time he pulls back, you're gasping for breath. "Now then," he inquired with a soft voice, "what prompted this sudden onslaught, dearest?" His fingers, tender as they grazed your hair, emitted a comforting warmth. "If you wanted my attention, I would have gladly given it to you."

Dorm Leader Vers ✧ Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

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ken-dom · 3 months

Text

I’ll Do Anything You Say If You Say It With Your Hands

Colt Seavers x gn!reader

2k words

∘₊✧ Summary: You comb your fingertips through the wavy lengths of his soft hair, pausing when you find the perfect spot to wind a handful of strands tight around your fingers...

∘₊✧ Author’s notes: Thank you my wonderful K (@heresthestorymorningglory) for beta reading, finding me a Swift song for Colt, and allowing long hair Colt into the Geese Who Consume Us Club. This is my first time writing him and I know it won’t be my last! Title from Trecherous by Taylor Swift

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, long hair Colt, crying (both to Taylor Swift and from overstimulation), praise, hair pulling kink, a lot of cum, hand job, overstimulation, orgasm as pain relief, aftercare

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

With lips hot and wet at his neck, your nails scrape over Colt’s scalp, threading through his thick locks.

His head drops back into the feeling; it’s sensual and soothing in equal measure, every nerve tingling like a spread of lightning through his body and heat pooling like lava at his aching core.

You've been touching him like this, tender but teasing, for what feels to him like hours since finding him curled into a ball on his sofa with Taylor Swift playing from the kitchen, eyes and cheeks wet, back aching and head pounding. You offered to help him relax, slowly opening him up to you, and, although you didn’t tell him this, your plan was also designed to make him feel good about himself. He fell apart in your hands the moment you began to touch him and as ever, he’s content to let you put him back together however you see fit.

You comb your fingertips through the wavy lengths of his soft hair, pausing when you find the perfect spot to wind a handful of strands tight around your fingers until you’re holding his head still with a firm fistful of thick, luscious blonde.

There’s still one loose strand framing his face, but he looks so gorgeous, you leave it there.

He whimpers as you tug your fist lightly, his wet eyes glimmering before they slip closed.

He feels your free hand glide down the smooth expanse of his chest. You’re raking your nails over his soft flesh too, feeling him shiver under the warmth of your palm until you graze a nail directly over a nipple and he jolts at the sudden spark of pleasure. You continue there, pinching and rolling the soft nub lightly between your fingers, watching his face contort in pleasure that isn’t quite enough but is almost too much to bear.

Watching him unravel.

He's been hard for too long and the front of his loose fitting sweatpants are soaked through. Colt is strong and he has stamina for days, but he really can’t keep this up for much longer, not with the way you’re teasing and coaxing, being so soft and caring with him.

Your hip presses briefly against his cock the hen you reach up to stroke that loose strand of hair, and Colt writhes, biting his bottom lip to keep from letting out the hungry groan that’s been nagging to tear from his chest.

You brush against him deliberately now and again, watching his chest muscles tense while his cock throbs at the hint of contact, and this time he does let out a groan. It’s guttural and almost relieved, and the wet patch grows a little darker.

He’s delicious like this, you think, simmering on the edge of bliss, needy but not daring to ask for anything more than you’re giving him. He completely relinquishes control to you, giving you both his body, and the power to oversee his pleasure however you see fit.

He trusts you, and you take good care of him. It works.

‘Colt?’ you whisper, still massaging that perky, sensitive nipple, and he whines in response. He can’t formulate so much as a thought of anything worth saying, let alone turn the sound into a word. So he gives up and simply nods instead, face scrunching up in pain when the roots of his hair snag against your tight grip.

It’s not just pain, though; it’s pleasure too, and he shudders at the sensation it sends running down his spine.

It’s almost too much. Every touch is bringing him dangerously close to the edge, and having his hair tugged was a factor he never expected would contribute.

Lips pulling into a smirk at his reaction, you whisper, ‘Do you need to cum?’

‘P-pl-’ he tries, resorting back to a nod, slower this time, gentle against your fist, trying not to let this new thrill he’s discovered overwhelm him too soon.

‘Then tell me you’re handsome.’

‘Wha-’

‘Tell me you’re handsome,’ you repeat, a clear and simple request, fingers finding the tip of his cock with your and tracing a featherlight touch over the pulsing bulge in his damp sweatpants.

Heat radiates through the fabric as you trace the outline of a vein running down the underside of his length, and he twitches against your finger, cock begging for more — or less, if you want this to continue for much longer.

‘I- I’m- handsome,’ he chokes out, hips stuttering as you circle his sensitive tip again.

‘Tell me you’re smart, too.’

He shakes his head. It’s too vigorous and it hurts, but a spark of bliss shoots down to his core and he grunts as he feels himself leak out another thick drop of precum. His head drops back against the wall, your fist there to cushion the blow.

‘Come on, Colt, you can do it. Tell me.’

Your finger slows to a stop and his breathing turns uneven and ragged.

‘No- no, please- I… I can’t- I’m not!’

‘Oh but you are, and I need you to believe it. I need to hear you say it.’

He dares to open his scrunched up eyes just enough to glance at you.

You mean it. He knows you mean it. And he will never not give you what you ask for, so he manages, somehow.

‘I’m… I’m smart,’ he mutters, embarrassment pricking at his cheeks.

‘Good boy,’ you coo, massaging his tip again, gentle and slow.

Oh, Colt thinks, lost in the sensation, absentmindedly rolling his hips in time with your fingers, worth it.

Because he likes praise. He likes doing right by you, even if he doesn’t always agree with what you want him to say about himself. If you believe it, that’s enough for him.

‘I think you really deserve to cum now.’

‘Oh- yeah, ok-’ he breathes, still trying to please you, to sound agreeable, but it comes out desperate and you smirk as you lean up to press your lips to his for a moment, his cock once again left to throb aimlessly inside his sweatpants in the empty space between you, untouched and leaking steadily.

He feels a sinking disappointment when you loosen your grip on his long hair, but then you dip your head and your lips wrap around the plump nipple you’d been teasing moments earlier, and he moans, loud and unrestrained, bucking his hips and grabbing your shoulders to seek something- anything you might be good enough to give him.

With one hand still loose in his hair, the other drags painfully slowly over his stomach, fingers grazing his happy trail, to hook under the waistband of his sweatpants, open a space big enough to slide your hand inside the fabric and press your palm flat against the underside of his cock.

It’s sticky with precum and he blushes again at how wet he feels.

His cock is thick and heavy, noticeable even just from resting against your palm, and you can feel every little throb of need it gives. Your eyes drag over his burly form, and absentmindedly, you lick your lips.

His jaw clenches at that. He’s trying so hard not to spill yet, forcing his hips still and concentrating on breathing. He needs you to tell him when, but it’s growing more difficult by the minute to wait for that command, even while there’s no friction, no movement.

‘Tell me one more thing?’

‘Anything!’ Colt cries out, voice weak, strangled and cracking, the vein in his cock throbbing against your palm.

‘Tell me what you need?’

‘I need- oh-’

You finally stroke his cock. A soft, gentle massage that, to him, feels like far too much at this point. He can’t hold off, his release is approaching rapidly and-

‘Oh, fuck- I can’t-’

‘That’s it baby, you can, I promise,’ you coo, and your fingers wrap around his length while your tongue resumes its work on his sensitive nipple.

‘I- I need to-’ he rasps, on the verge of more tears. But these are needy tears, not self pitying ones, and you both know that you’ll give him what he needs, eventually.

The tears pour, steaming down his cheeks, and as a reward for trying so hard, you begin to move your fist, pumping faster the more he attempts to spit the words out, and tightening the grip of your other hand to yank his hair, hard.

Colt growls at the combined sensations and your teeth catch on his nipple as he jerks forward. It’s so good, so overwhelming, he knows he’s done for, and every ounce of strength in him diminishes until there’s just your hand, your mouth, your warmth. He’s safe like this with you. Safe and handsome and smart. Fuck.

His vision blurs as the words continue to fall from his trembling lips; ‘I need to- cu-ohhh-oh!-ughhh-mmmnnn-gg-’ and he spills uncontrollably, hips snapping forward into your furiously pumping fist while his cock darkens the front of those sweatpants with a fresh layer of thick, hot seed, dripping down satisfyingly over your hand, too while his whole body turns limp.

You continue working his softening length with slower, softer strokes until he’s got nothing left to give and he’s softening inside your loose fist.

He’s a heap on the floor by now and you’re positioned over him, pushing your fingers through his hair and softly brushing it away from his face instead of pulling at it. The contrast soothes him and he whimpers, nuzzling his face into your shoulder as you settle beside him.

You wipe his release from your hand onto a dry patch of his pants — they’re going to need a thorough wash anyway, and Colt doesn’t even notice.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his over-sensitive cock relieved and soft and coated in his own cum, twitching with aftershocks.

Slowly, he begins to feel like he’s made of jelly, the feeling spreading from his core out to his limbs, and he can barely keep his eyes open.

He floats away on the haze of bliss while you play with his hair and press soft kisses to his cheek, whispering how good he was for you into his ear, the praise dripping like warm honey.

When he comes to, he first notices that your comforting weight is no longer pressed against his side, and then he recognises the calming trickle of the tap filling his bathtub and the scent of lavender floating through from the steamy room.

Whatever you did to him has relieved his back pain, however temporary, and he shifts on the floor, seeing how it feels to have more ease in his movements.

There’s a cushion under his head and you’ve stripped him of his cum stained sweatpants, replacing them with a blanket for now.

It feels like you’ve brushed his hair.

He smiles to himself. A big, dumb grin that would make you want to kiss him (and pounce on him) if you were still beside him.

He looks over to where you were laid before he drifted off and sees that you’ve left him a glass of water.

His heart skips.

He’s not sure he can drag himself to the bathtub right now, weak from too much pleasure and somewhat overwhelmed at it, but he knows you’ll help him. And that it’s what he needs.

He knows you’ll massage his shoulders, and that you’ll wash his hair with tender, loving fingers, and gush about how pretty it is all the while.

About how pretty he is.

You’ll do it until he sees his worth, and as difficult as it may be to learn and accept that he’s as desirable as you seem to think he is, he’s not exactly complaining about hearing it from you. Especially when you choose this method — the one where he gets to cum.

He knows he’ll be hard again by the time you’re done washing and massaging him, too, but you’ll take mercy on him since he’s so overstimulated. Won’t you?

#not s f w 💀#colt seavers x reader #colt seavers smut #colt seavers fic #colt seavers #the fall guy #the fall guy fic #ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling smut #ken-dom writes

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retrocesosdestacion · 8 months

Text

INSIDE EVERYTHING. | ingrid engen

ingrid engen x reader

genre: smut, minor disastrous.

warnings: +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.

notes: i'm not a big fan of writing smut but i tried to use all my neurons 🤷‍♀️ also i wrote this when i was sleepy so maybe there are some things that don't make much sense

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.

How to solve? Ask a certain norwegian woman for her impression.

“ You're on my mind, been there all the night. I've been missing my midnight queen. ”

Rosenfeld.

❝ No. ❞ You heard Ingrid disagree before you even got fully dressed.

Arms crossed with some shorts folded, back leaning against the cabin wall and beautiful grassy eyes staring at you.

Engen looked more like a fashion critic than your girlfriend. That was the bad side of being her girlfriend: always having an opinion in what you would wear.

❝ Why not?! ❞ You would need good justifications to ditch those shorts. You walked around completely to make sure it was comfortable. ❝ It's perfect. ❞

❝ Too short. ❞ Worse than having a critical girlfriend? Having a jealous and critical girlfriend.

You and Ingrid have been dating for a year. It are flowers, there is nothing to complain about apart from the midfielder's very few inconvenient attitudes.

After all, you were also a bit inconvenient with her.

Your optical orbs landed on the norwegian, indignant and not convinced that these would be the perfect shorts for your summer vacation.

❝ But isn't that the point of shorts? ❞ You argued, extending a hand to Engen, waiting for her to give you the next shorts you would try on.

❝ Yes, but this one is shorter than the normal ones. ❞ Ingrid claimed as she watched you from top to bottom, mainly focusing on the beginning of the curve of your buttock. ❝ And your ass shows. ❞

You rolled your eyes, unzipping your shorts inside the cabin; Just the two of you, there was nothing to worry about.

You wouldn't even need to face the norwegian in person to find out her reaction, as the mirror that almost completed the wall gave it away.

❝ And what’s the problem? ❞ At that point you were mocking with her, but it was these types of comments that touched the player's heart the most. Your eyes landed on your girlfriend's reflection.

Engen was not happy about this at all. ❝ Are you kidding me? ❞ Her perplexed tone was so noticeable that it brought a silly smile off your face.

The laughter on your face was there for a long time, and so was the silence. Not so much, in reality, the only thing that passed through your ears was the scattered sounds of the store's environment.

❝ Give me the next one, miss possessive. ❞ You whispered without receiving a response. Your brow furrowed in doubt, until you noticed Ingrid's sudden approach to you.

So, you turned your body towards the woman, who suddenly handed you one of the next shorts you were going to try on. ❝ We had agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore. ❞

❝ How can I not call you that if you live up to your name? ❞ You played again, pulling down the shorts you were wearing while you felt her greenish eyes penetrate you.

Basically, it was completely fun to irritate and pay attention to the norwegian, mainly because she gave in very easily to this type of emotion.

It just wasn't expected that this time would be different. Really very different.

You threw the previous shorts on the armchair inside the dressing room and immediately put on the other one. Sincerely? That was the best.

❝ How about that? ❞ You questioned without looking back at Engen. It was comfortable, probably wouldn't be too short in your girlfriend's opinion, and it wasn't long either.

You gave the norwegian some time to formulate an impression about the shorts. And given how long it took, something positive would probably come out of those lips.

Or maybe because Engen's eyes were too busy staring at your thighs and part of your groin.

❝ Not short. And it's more practical. ❞ Gotcha. Ingrid murmured, immediately placing her index finger inside one of yours side waistbands.

Your eyes finally met the midfielder's, who had a very tempting look on her face. And you knew very well what that meant, but not for that moment.

❝ Practical? ❞ You slowly dissipated the word from your lips, confused by what was said.

❝ To take away. ❞

And gradually you discovered it. Your eyes widened, eyebrows rose in surprise and your head began to shake slowly in denial.

❝ No. ❞ You inhaled, shaking your head faster. ❝ No way. ❞ Your cheeks began to burn with tension.

❝ I didn't say anything. ❞ Ingrid smiled the stupid smile of someone who had the best idea in mind. Suddenly, you weren't the one playing with her anymore.

And yes, she is playing with you.

The finger on the waistband previously pulled you closer to Engen's body, who saw the opportunity to seal your lips quickly.

At first you forced yourself to give in, after all, who would deny a kiss from the woman of your life? Presupposedly, you moved your face inches away, before the norwegian started advancing.

❝ Shit, Ingrid. We are not doing it. ❞ You whispered, placing the palm of your hand on the woman's lips and gently pushing them. ❝ We are in public. ❞

❝ No, we are not. ❞ Engen played with the situation once again, moving your hand away. ❝ Please, it will be quick. ❞

Your optical orbs stared at the stupid malicious expression that the midfielder carried on her beautiful and angelic face.

The long silence without responding to the norwegian was the key for Ingrid to carefully seal her lips again. Slowly, your body was pushed against the mirror on the wall. ❝ The chances of them seeing us are low, Kjære. ❞ (darling.)

Your body was already warm from the closed and small place that was the cabin, and now with your girlfriend touching you? It was like adding gasoline in aflame.

Ingrid controlled her lips so well, being nice and slow until you got used to the situation. The taller girl's long, cold, left-handed fingers slid down your torso, looking for some treasure while the other hand delicately grabbed her jaw.

You grunted between the kiss, perhaps due to the tension, to the lack of breath that was present or owing to the fear of someone opening that door.

Your eyes closed, giving up on the situation you found yourself in. Your mind focused on the sweet flavor of Ingrid's lip flesh and creating scenarios of an employee opening that door.

The only thing that sounded inside that semi-dark room were the sticky lips mixing and the sound of the environment.

❝ Ingrid— ❞ You murmured between the kiss, which slowly broke from the moment Engen led them south.

The norwegian's lips found themselves on the skin of the curve of your neck. And that was the final step for you to finally give yourself to the woman.

Your fingers slipped between the black strands, combing and pressing them each time Ingrid gently nibbled or sucked your skin.

If you were looking at her correctly, you could easily see how the midfielder had a short and emphatic smile.

Lips half-open, echoing muffled sounds and your skin getting chills more and more. It was magnificent, incredible and crazy how a certain norwegian woman could make you ecstasy.

❝ That's a bad idea. ❞ The words slowly came out in a murmur between muffled grunts. Ingrid increasingly enhanced her lips on your skin.

The midfielder had the talent of always studying your body with tenor and affection, it was a gift to have Engen's delicate lips glued to your figure.

But despite this, your concern for the environment was the counter to affectionate touches. Even though every cabin had a door, they didn't lock.

And being inside for more than six minutes was also a danger, at some point someone would enter there.

❝ Trust me. ❞ Engen finally released her lips from your body, but it screamed, begged to have her back.

You hated Ingrid for always leaving you at ease in situations like this, always halfway. At this point, your legs were almost begging to open and let the Norwegian do whatever she wants with you.

It was a fight. You wanted to, but you also didn't.

But in reality, there was no turning back from this; Your needy and passionate side won.

Screw it. You're in public, people should see how much you love each other. People should watch how you loved being touched like that.

Ingrid finally reached her fingers at the beginning of your genitals through your shorts, gradually touching them with just her index finger.

Your body was sensitive, any touch was enough to make you grunt or arch. The norwegian's fingerprint did not rub, but slid, circularly.

Even though the fabric of the shorts is thick enough to not feel the outside touch, Engen had the capacity to do so.

It was the wet lips touching your skin and marking it, it was the slightest touch of the long finger in the region of your genitals; Ingrid wasn't even inside you and your breathing was so heavy.

Your lungs inflated and deflated as quickly as a marathon runner's, a strong struggle between containing the slightest groans and finding breath for the situation.

❝ Do you want me to stop? ❞ Engen murmured between her lips glued to your skin, slowly pulling away and resting her eyes on your face. ❝ We can do this at home. ❞

Despite all this attitude, Ingrid was a person with a strong personality, always putting your well-being first.

The norwegian's fingers, too. They stopped, but without leaving their place.

You took a second breath before confirming your answer. You shook your head negative, finally giving your answer.

❝ Please, no. ❞ Your lips wet with your own drool, hardly satiated because you were busier moaning.

Your body began to release drops of sweat, your sly eyes looked at Engen; carrying the stupid horny smile.

Her left hand slid down to the south of your thighs, pressing your fingers against the norwegian's wrist. You slowly guided her delicate hand into your shorts, unzipped.

Therefore, the midfielder's fingers were a tissue away from her clitoris. Your gaze stared into the greenish optical orbs, somewhat perplexed by his sudden attitude.

❝ Finish what you started. ❞ You brought your lips close to your girlfriend's ear area, enough to whisper.

You freed her wrist, intending to give Engen full consent to touch your body however she wanted. Your arms rose and wrapped around the player's neck.

Slowly, Ingrid wet her own fingers with her lips, lubricating them. The ring finger started the touching, even over the panties.

It was slow, but well done. The midfielder had a lot of experience when it came to creating elation in you.

The circular movements were enough to make you grunt and muffle the sounds on Engen's skin, indirectly begging her to do more and more.

Within seconds, the only thing you could feel was Ingrid's finger invade your clitoris, especially when you noticed your panties being dragged to the side.

Exposed to her and everything, your eyes refused to look at anything other than the cabin door. You had many missions: not to moan so loud, not to grunt and not to make any rough movements.

After all, you were one step away from being in public.

Ingrid's ring and middle fingers did not penetrate, but rubbed against your warm vaginal skin. From side to side, top to bottom.

And that was enough to make you act like she had two fingers inside you. It wasn't a lie when it was said that your skin is sensitive.

With each second it increased in intensity like a sports car starting up, Ingrid moved her fingers so well that you even wondered if that was the woman you knew.

Your face was buried in the midfielder's collarbone, muffling short, sly moans that left your lips.

❝ Damn, Ingrid. ❞ Even though you were busy blocking out the sounds coming out of you, there was still space to murmur your loved one's name.

Engen acted concentrated, rubbing her fingers on you, which inch by inch entered you. But also, the woman's cold lips touched your skin.

Body arched towards your girlfriend, fingers leading towards the long black strands of her. You bit your own lips with each long finger you received, stopping the moans from coming out.

Slowly, you could feel the sweat dripping down your entire body, especially on the inside of your thighs. A sweat so powerful that it was enough to slide.

The heat inside the dressing room was so intense that the mirror fogged up every minute, perhaps due to the control over your bodies.

❝ Relax. ❞ Engen murmured so low that it was difficult to decipher, even close to your ear.

You didn't know what to say and didn't even know what to think: you didn't know whether to moan the norwegian's name, order her to stop due to the tension or beg for more.

And down there, it was impossible to describe what was happening. Ingrid wrapped her fingers around it, took it out and put it back in several times and always increased the intensity as if she knew exactly what she was playing with.

Engen played with your body as if she knew every detail and secret of yours.

❝ Fuck. ❞ You repeated this once, twice, three times, almost increasing your intonation. Your mind surrendered to Engen, surrendering so much that you even forgot you were in public.

Your very long arms pressed more and more around the taller woman's neck, mainly as a bridge to sink your face even further into her neck.

The norwegian brought her lips back to your neck, carefully kissing your skin, but also biting it.

On your private part and now on your neck? This was the perfect combo, but at the same time crazy. It was at that moment that you were sure you were crazy about Ingrid Engen.

But you were so focused on praising her and moaning the norwegian's name that you completely forgot you were in public.

Especially on a Saturday night, where people go out to buy clothes and try them on. Which meant your time was limited.

At that moment, even though you were mentally occupied with Engen's face and fingers, it was very noticeable steps meters away heading towards you.

Your eyebrows arched, immediately pulling the player's hand away; even though she had noticed it too, since she had stopped moving her fingers.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

❝ Men hva i helvete. ❞ (what the fuck.) Ingrid murmured so swiftly that it didn't even sound norwegian. The woman's body reacted so quickly by moving towards the armchair, that Engen seemed experienced in being caught in act.

And you were no different. The only problem is that you only had the opportunity to stare at the door, praying that whoever opened it wouldn't notice anything.

The footsteps approached and stopped, knocking twice on the door and asking permission to open it just a crack.

❝ Yes? ❞ You responded to the touches with a fragile intonation, as you were trying to catch your breath.

❝ Sorry to interrupt, but I noticed that you've been in there for almost twenty-five minutes. ❞ A female voice came from outside. ❝ Is everything ok? ❞

You took a while to respond, as you were more concentrated and having difficulty taking off your shorts due to the sweat caused.

❝ Yes, everything fine. I am leaving soon! I just need... ❞ Your eyes fell on Engen, who carried a stupid smile of someone who was clearly holding back a laugh. ❝ ...Fold the clothes I wore. ❞

❝ No need, just leave the ones you won't use on the counter after you leave. ❞ The door gap has closed. ❝ Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. ❞

An uncomfortable silence remained inside the cabin, you wiped off the little sweat that remained on your own neck.

❝ I knew this would happen! ❞ You finally said something, looking at Ingrid.

❝ If you had known it was going to happen, you wouldn't have accepted it, miss moans loudly. ❞ Engen got back at you, expressing short laughs that were definitely meant to stress you out.

❝ But I— ❞

She got up and walked towards the door, carrying the other shorts you had already worn. ❝ Can we finish at home? ❞ At this point, Ingrid was making fun of you.

❝ ...Fuck you. ❞ That was the only thing you said before pushing the Norwegian; which barely moved. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

You put on your own pants, soon carrying the shorts you were previously wearing between your fingers. Now, you were forced to buy it.

❝ We will never do this again, you idiot. ❞

#woso #barça femeni #fc barça #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen fic #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni

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theemporium · 6 months

Text

[3.3k] after a conversation with steve leaves him haunted with ideas, eddie takes it upon himself to create the perfect circumstances to live out his car sex fantasy. (smut)

based off this request

In all fairness, the date wasn’t technically based on a lie.

Between class assignments, after-school jobs and Eddie working on the latest campaign before he officially handed the club off to the younger boys, there hadn’t been much time for you two to just spend it…together.

Sure, there were the odd nights you’d head over to the trailer park or he would head over to your house, but neither of you ever stayed up late enough to enjoy the time together. Nine out of ten times, you’d both be so caught up with your own things that the first time you really got a moment alone from everything would be the minutes before you passed out in bed.

So, the idea of a random, impromptu date at the drive-in movie theatre just outside of town seemed like the perfect night you both needed after weeks of nothing. A sweet, innocent night shared together watching some trashy old movie with snacks and drinks you picked up from the 7/11 on the way—and totally nothing to do with the fantasy that had been playing over and over in his head for the last few weeks.

Honestly, it had been Steve’s fault.

He had been hanging around Family Video a couple of weeks ago when the topic was brought up. Just a simple back and forth of the best and worst places to have sex whilst Steve sorted through the x-rated videos the store had to offer. They had been debating on whether shower sex was really worth the risk or not when Steve brought it up.

“Okay but nothing beats the back of a car,” he had commented casually, not seeming to notice the way Eddie perked up in interest.

“Huh?”

“Like, when you’re fooling around with a girl and then she climbs into the back with that look on her face? It’s hot,” Steve said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s hot in the front seat too, but it’s a little cramped up there.”

Eddie didn’t say anything in response because, truly, he couldn’t. He couldn’t put his two cents into the conversation, he couldn’t add in any opinions because it was never something he ever experienced.

There had been a few hookups in the back of the van, but that was different. The back of the van was spacious and he often had pillows and blankets down to make it a little nicer. The last time he drove a car was back when Wayne was teaching him, and even then, it only took a few weeks before he got his licence. And he didn’t drive anything again until he saved up for the van, did a little work on her and had her as his very own ever since.

Yet, there was a small part of Eddie that couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out. As Steve continued to ramble on, that pit in his stomach grew and grew into something quite like envy.

He wanted that. He wanted the silly giggles and breathless moans when he fucked some girl in the backseat of a car. He wanted the heated windows, the bodies pressed together and the clothes abandoned on the car floor. He wanted that.

He wanted that with you, with his pretty girl.

But he never said that to Steve. He never said that to you either. He didn’t say a damn word to anyone, and instead he formulated a plan in his head to get the fantasy he wanted. It was almost embarrassing how easily it worked.

He waited a couple of weeks until the conversation between Steve and himself was long forgotten. He waited until it felt like a random day when he suddenly called Steve, frantic and desperate and seemingly in need of some serious help from a friend.

“Woah, breathe! What’s wrong?”

“It’s my van,” Eddie said as he tried to sound beat down and glum about the whole thing. “I planned the perfect date, Harrington! We’ve barely been able to each other with her college classes and my shifts at the garage, and now my stupid van won’t be ready in time for the drive in I wanted to take her to. She had been raving about it to her friends.”

“Oh shit. When is the date?”

Eddie tried to bite back his grin. “Tomorrow night.”

“Just take my car!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I won’t need it tomorrow night anyways. I’ll be at Robin’s.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Harrington,” Eddie breathed out a sigh of relief, a wide smile spread across his face. “I’ll promise to get it back to you in one piece.”

And possibly dry cleaned too, Eddie added as an afterthought.

With a car secure in his possession, the rest of the plan ran as smoothly as he hoped. He drove to your house, kissing away any questions you had about the car with some muttered lies about a dodgy engine problem in his van passed between before he headed towards the drive-in.

He could barely keep his eyes off you the whole drive, but it was almost like you knew the dirty, little fantasy playing in his head. You were wearing a pretty number he swore he had never seen before, some floral dress that rests just above your knees. The straps were thinner than Eddie imagined was practically possible, and the second you shed the small cardigan off in the car, he was a fucking goner.

He was straining in his jeans by the time you pulled into the drive-in, jammed between two massive pick-up trucks and, god, Eddie had never been more grateful and convinced that a superior being existed.

Eddie tried to take it slow. He tried to let the moment come naturally. He watched as you pushed your seat all the way back, allowed himself to do the same and he tried to focus on the movie. He really, really tried. But then you had kicked your feet up on the dashboard, your skirt had ridden up just enough for him to see the pair of cotton panties you were wearing and his brain went totally blank.

“You’re staring, pretty boy.”

He blinked, taking a few seconds to realise you had actually said something to him. “What?”

It felt like someone caved his chest in when you smiled at him. “I said, you’re staring,” you repeated, looking far too amused at the clueless expression on his face. “You haven’t even looked at the screen in the last fifteen minutes.”

“Must be a pretty boring movie then,” he answered with a shrug.

You raised your brows. “So you’re watching me instead?”

“You’re pretty damn spectacular, babe,” he replied.

“Me or my legs?” You teased.

“Both,” he answered shamelessly, and you couldn’t help but let out a snort.

“Watch the movie, Eds,” you told him, shaking your head as you turned to look out the front window towards the screen again. However, your attention quickly shifted back to the boy in the driver seat when his hand landed just above your knee. “Can I help you?”

“It’s a boring movie, babe,” he said, his fingers gliding along your skin and it took everything in you to not shiver at the feather-light touches. “A waste of time, if I’m being honest. We could always get Steve to slip it to us for free for a couple of hours.”

“Hm,” you hummed, trying to act nonchalant as you focused your gaze on his face and not the way his pretty fingers looked dancing across your skin. “And what do you propose we do instead then? The movie is two hours long. You gonna entertain me, Munson?”

His lips twitched upwards. “I have some ideas on how to keep you preoccupied, baby.”

“Like staring at me?”

“Like fucking you dumb in the backseat.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted in shock at the blunt words that just left your boyfriend’s lips, and you waited. You waited for him to crack some joke. You waited for him to grin and wave it off, but he didn’t. He just kept staring at you like he was a starved man, like he wanted to fucking ravish you—and honestly, you wanted it too.

“Eddie,” you murmured, shifting in your seat as he squeezed your thigh. “We can’t.”

He raised his brows. “Why not?”

“We are surrounded by people,” you muttered, your cheeks feeling warm and heated as you glanced around at all the cars parked in the drive-in. You were completely surrounded. There was no way somebody wouldn’t catch you.

“Scared?” He teased with a grin that felt a little sadistic.

“Eddie.”

“Just a lil’ good girl, aren’t you? Not wanting to get caught…not wanting anyone to see how need you get for me,” Eddie mused, something in his eyes darkening as he continued to trace his fingers along your thigh.

Your breath hitched as he reached the hem of your skirt. “Eddie—”

“It’s a shame I don’t believe you, honey,” he murmured as his eyes snapped back up towards you, as he watched your face carefully as his fingers slid underneath your dress and lightly grazed your clothed cunt. “Not when you’re this fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

“I–” You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. Not when his thumb pressed down on your clit.

“You can act like a good girl all you want but I know the truth, baby,” he hummed as he watched your hand dart down to grip his wrist—but not to push him away. No, you were keeping his hand locked in place like you were scared he was going to move away. “You fucking love the idea. You fucking love the idea that anyone could see what a desperate little slut you become for my cock, hm?”

“Please,” you breathed out, your head falling back against the seat as your legs opened slightly wider.

Eddie didn’t even bother to hide his grin as he pulled his hand back, listening to the way you whined at the loss. “Take them off.”

You blinked, your heart beating wildly in your chest. “What—”

“Off. Now.”

You didn’t waste any time as your thumbs hooked on the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs and barely making it past your ankles before Eddie balled the fabric up and shoved it into his pocket. You didn’t even get a chance to comment on how quick he was before the boy was pushing your legs open once again, the fabric of your dress pooled at your hips and your pussy on display for him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Eddie muttered, mostly to himself, before he lifted his hand to slowly trace his fingers over your soaked cunt. You shivered at the soft touches, your thighs instinctively moving to clench shut but he pushed them open again. “Nuh uh, honey, not letting you hide from me.”

“Eddie,” you whined, a little too desperate when he had barely touched you but you didn’t care. “Please. Fuck, please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, his tone almost tipping over that line of condescending. But honestly, it just made the coil in your stomach tighten. You liked it when he was a little mean. You liked it when he knew just what you wanted. “Gonna make my girl feel good. Promise.”

One hand gripped the fabric of your dress, letting it bunch in your first as your other hand pressed against the window. You tried to keep quiet. You tried to remind yourself that cars were far from soundproof. You tried to remind yourself that you were surrounded by other movie-watchers. You tried to remind yourself that anybody could look over and see you.

But it was really hard to care about anything other than Eddie burying two fingers inside you, pumping and curling his fingers in a way that had you arching off your seat.

And Eddie couldn’t help but watch, completely enthralled.

He didn’t give two shits about the movie when he had you. The way you squirmed and wiggled in the passenger seat, your nails digging into the fabric of the seat and scratching along the car door as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you. The way you clenched around him, incoherent babbles and needy noises leaving your mouth as you reached closer and closer to your edge. The way you looked so fucking pretty with flushed cheeks and glossy eyes and he had barely fucking touched you.

This was a movie he could never get sick off. This was a movie he could never look away from even if he tried.

And fuck, the way you were far too loud when you came. The way he was so fucking sure that either patrons in the trucks beside you could have heard you, could have looked over and seen you coming around his fingers as you cried out his name. The way Eddie felt something quite like pride burst in his chest at the idea.

“Atta girl,” he cooed, his thumb brushing over your sensitive clit as your body convulsed at the burst of pleasure. “Told you I know what my pretty girl wants.”

“Eds,” you mumbled, somewhere lost between pleasure and desire as you watched him slide his fingers out of you. As you watched him bring his fingers to his lips, shamelessly sucking off the mess you made and groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. As you watched his eyes roll back as he savoured the moment.

And before you could even let yourself catch your breath, his hand slapping the inside of your thigh as he flashed you a smirk.

“Get that pretty ass in the backseat, baby.”

There was something about the way you didn’t even hesitate as you clambered into the backseat of the car, even with shaky legs and panting breaths as you tried to recover from your previous orgasm. There was something about the sight of your dress pulled up over your ass, giving him a pretty view of your pussy as you climbed into the back. There was something about the fact you were so unbothered and uncaring about patrons in the drive-in hearing or seeing you now because you only had one thought on your mind—and it was his cock.

Eddie groaned at the sight of you in the backseat, biting on your bottom lip as you looked at him with a sense of urgency. You wanted him. You needed him. And fuck, if that didn’t make blood rush down to his already painfully hard cock.

His fingers moved down to unbutton his jeans, hand slipping beneath the waistband to squeeze the bulge in his boxers for some relief but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside you, he needed to feel you clenching around him, he needed to have your pretty pussy wrapped around him.

The car was already reaching a point of warmth that would start to become unbearable with too many layers. With the windows already starting to fog up and a thin layer of sweat covering your skin, Eddie barely wasted any time in shedding a few layers until the boy’s flannel and shirt were thrown somewhere on the driver’s seat and his jeans and boxers were pulled down enough for him to pull his cock out, stroking the length of himself as you quickly shifted onto your hands and knees.

His head was brushing against the roof of the car, the vehicle had probably already rocked a suspicious amount to the people around you and Eddie was certain that if somebody passed right now, they would get a direct view of his ass—but he didn’t care as he gripped your hips, pulling you back until your ass was flush against his pelvis and his cock was buried deep inside you.

“Shit,” he breathed out, his chin tucked against his chest as he watched the sight of your cunt swallowing his cock. He let out a whimpering noise when your walls clenched around him, squeezing him so tight he could have sworn he would’ve come instantly if he wasn’t using every ounce of self-control to hold himself back. “Feel like fuckin’ heaven, honey.”

“Please,” you whined, pushing back against him as your nails dug into the material of the seats. “You promised.”

“I know, I know,” he cooed, that hint of the patronising tone lacing his words again and making you clench around him. “Gonna do what I promised, baby. Gonna fuck you dumb and make sure everybody in this drive-in knows it.”

It shouldn’t have turned you on so much. It shouldn’t have made your stomach dip in desire. It shouldn’t have made your head spin with a kind of dizziness only Eddie Munson could bring.

And yet, it did.

And you were absolutely fucking shameless about it. You didn’t care what your patrons thought. You didn’t care if there were people there you knew and would see. You didn’t care about anything when Eddie was pounding into you from behind, your face squished against the car seat as he kept going and going and going.

You didn’t care about drawing the attention of others as the car rocked with his movements, or the fact your hand pressed against the foggy window gave everyone a clear indication of what was happening. Not when the debauch noises of Eddie fucking you echoed through the car, the shameless sign of how much you loved this.

You didn’t care about anything other than the bruising grip on your waist as he fucked your soaking pussy, as your walls clenched around him, as you moaned his name over and over and over until you felt white spots dotting your vision as you came around his cock.

You could barely comprehend the world around as his fingers slipped into your mouth to muffle the whimpering moans you let out, to keep them just for himself as he thrusted one, two, three more times until he finally let himself go. You barely cared about anything else as you lazily sucked on his fingers, a low groan of appreciation sounding through the car as you felt him hunch over you, cooing at how well you did for him.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he pressed chaste kisses to your cheek, watching the way you blinked up at him as your tongue wrapped around his digits in your mouth. “God, you’re a fucking dream, baby.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, pleased with his response.

You let out a huff of annoyance when he pulled his fingers from your mouth, but seemed happy enough that he showed no signs of moving from his spot just yet. Something about the weight of his body on top of you and his cock still buried deep inside you was oddly calming, and it wasn’t something you were willing to give up just yet.

“What are the chances Harrington never finds out we fucked in his car?” Eddie wondered out loud after a few beats of silence, causing you to let out a snort in response.

“Very, very low,” you murmured as you turned your head to the side so you could look up at your boyfriend. “I would recommend getting it dry cleaned. Maybe blessed by a priest.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “That’s a tad dramatic.”

“I can feel your cum dripping down my leg and onto the seats,” you bluntly pointed out, but your lips were still twitched upwards in a smirk. “I’d hardly say that’s me being dramatic.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie groaned as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses between words. “I’ll get it dry cleaned.”

“Good.”

“After a few more rounds.”

“Eddie!”

“What, baby? I have a few more fantasies I wanna play out and that dress isn’t helping,” he murmured, though you could feel his smirk against your skin. “If anything this is your fault.”

“Really?” You deadpanned.

But the boy just flashed you an innocent smile, one that looked so sweet but you knew held a million untold, dirty promises in it.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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misterblanc · 1 year

Text

silk and lace

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: your date with lewis gets cut short

warnings: mature language, smut (dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, daddy kink), not beta-read [18+ MINORS D.N.I.]

words: 2,216

❣️ dirty thangs under the cut ❣️

"What're you thinking about, pretty girl?"

"Hmm?" your eyes snap back to Lewis, the sound of his voice breaking you out of your daydream. Your immediate surroundings come flooding back to you: the sound of soft jazz and the murmur of conversation, the glow and flicker of the candles on the table, the gentle burn in your stomach from the drink in your hand...and Lewis's hand on your bare thigh.

"I asked what you're thinking about," he teases. "Looks like you're deep in thought over there."

You bite your lip. It had been a perfect day - busy with work, Lewis had sent you off shopping with your best girl friends. After coming home with a bounty of shopping bags (and Lewis's now bruised and battered credit card), he had decided to take you out for drinks at your favorite jazz bar nearby.

Your new silk dress ("thank you for my new dress, baby," you'd said, pecking him on the cheek when he had zipped it up earlier that night) conveniently had a slit running up the side, and Lewis had snuck a hand through its opening to find your knee as soon as you had sat down.

Throughout the night, that hand had crept its way from your knee to where it now lay heavy on your thigh, fingers barely brushing your inner thigh where your clothed center was aching for his touch. The burn of the alcohol in your system wasn't helping to stem the tingling sensations and you had quickly begun thinking about the quickest way you could get him home and on top of you.

You look him up and down as you formulate your response, taking in his matching silk shirt that clung deliciously to his muscled torso and arms and the necklaces that wrapped around his tattooed neck. An image flashes through your mind of his body over yours, the chains and jewels rubbing against your bare chest as he fucks into you. You reflexively clench your thighs together at the thought, trapping his hand between them.

"Oh," he smirks. "I think I already know. You wanna get out of here, baby?"

"Yes."

+++

As soon as the door to the apartment closes, you stalk into the kitchen to pour a glass of water for your dry throat, the sound of your high heels clicking on the tile floor. Lewis follows you closely, not bothering to turn the lights on. He settles against the counter opposite you and watches as you pound back the liquid, brown eyes glittering in the dark. You place the glass down and gulp, your body strung out with sexual tension.

"What's the matter, love?" he teases, leaning against the marble countertop. "You get nervous when I look at you like this?"

You nod shyly. No matter how long you'd been with Lewis, the intensity of his gaze when he looked at you never ceased to create a small fire in the pit of your belly.

"How about you be a doll and do a spin for me, won’t you?" he says, cocking his head to the side.

Nervously, you twirl, the flowing fabric of your dress cutting through the air around you.

"Do you like my dress?" you ask softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes.

"Darling, I love your dress. And I adore you," he starts, taking a step closer. "But what's that you're wearing underneath?"

"Underneath?" you ask, breath hitching in your throat as he takes another step, eyes raking down your body like an animal who's spotted its next meal.

"Yeah, baby, what did I see when you just did a little spin? Did you get new panties while you were out as well?"

"Let me see you, baby girl," he whispers, gripping your waist to twist you around so that your ass rubs against the growing bulge in his jeans. You shiver at the contact of the rough material against your bare thighs and bite back a moan as he proceeds to gently guide you into a bent position over the counter.

Lewis's hand skates down the thin material that barely covers your ass and flips the bottom of your dress up.

"Oh, baby..." he lets out a low groan.

You crane your neck to peek over your shoulder, growing wetter at the sight behind you. Lewis stares reverently at the spot between your thighs, tongue poking out to wet his plump lips, eyes starting to glaze over.

"I thought of you when I bought it," you admit almost shamefully, heat spreading across your face.

The pink scrap of silk and lace with red dotted hearts caught your attention immediately at the mall. Suddenly, he's kneeling behind you and you feel hot breath over the thin strip of fabric that's only just covering your slick folds.

"You thought of me when you were trying these on?"

"Mmhm," you whimper.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband, making a show of moving at a torturously slow rate as the fabric peels away from your sticky center, letting it fall around your ankles.

“I bet you touched yourself in the dressing room, too, naughty girl."

"Lewis," you mewl, instinctively arching back, desperate for contact with his lips.

"Be good, baby, you don't want to rip your nice new panties."

Lewis grabs two fistfuls of flesh and spreads you out, exposing your leaking cunt to the cool air of the apartment.

"You’re so beautiful all spread out like this… just for me. Look at you, practically dripping and I haven’t even touched you yet. Is this all for Daddy? Can I taste you, baby?"

You moan in response, your brain short-circuiting with arousal.

"You have to use your words, love," he tuts, kneading your ass with his large hands. "Daddy asked if he could taste you."

"Oh God, Daddy, please touch me," you whine.

Lewis's movements are slow and savory, much like a man enjoying his last meal. He presses a few filthy open-mouthed kisses along your folds before licking a broad stripe from your aching hole to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

Lewis knows exactly how to turn you into a babbling mess, and you soon find yourself scrabbling for purchase against the marble countertop, the sensation of the cold stone against your nipples adding to the intense feeling building in your stomach.

"Daddy, please! Need to cum-" you gasp out, bucking your hips back.

He groans deep from within his chest, wrapping an arm around your legs to hold you down. His voice is dark and filled with lust when he speaks, barely lifting his mouth from your pussy which by now is dripping from a combination of your arousal and his spit.

"I can feel it, baby, let me fucking hear you cum for me."

Then you feel not one, but two fingers probe at your opening, sliding in with a filthy wet sound. Your eyes roll back at the contrast between the feeling of the cool metal of his rings and the heat of your cunt. Lewis pumps his fingers in and out at a hard pace, the lewd squelching sounds of him finally fucking you sending you over the edge as you plead incoherently.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes, Daddy, right there, please right there-"

Your orgasm tears through you and you release a sob as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through your body, your moans echoing through the penthouse. He continues the drag of his fingers inside of you as you ride out your climax, pressing chaste kisses to your clit.

At the feeling of his fingers leaving your body you give a soft whimper, still attempting to catch your breath and swim through your orgasmic haze to come back to the present. He wastes no time, and you hear the clink of his belt buckle coming undone as he stands up behind you.

"That's my girl," he praises, stroking a hand down the back of your neck, the hairs there plastered against your sweaty skin. "Always s'good for me."

You feel the heat start growing again between your legs at his praise, your orgasm having just taken the edge off of your desire for Lewis. You look back, biting your lip at the sight of him and instinctively spreading your legs wider.

Eyes locked on yours, Lewis makes quick work of the delicate buttons of that damn silk shirt, tossing the luxurious material behind him. Your breath hitches in your throat at the image of his tattooed broad shoulders and chest, the metal and jewels on his multiple necklaces softly glinting in the moonlight that shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the apartment.

He shoves his jeans down his thighs and your mouth waters. His thighs are so thick and you can't help but remember the last time you two went out when the night ended with you riding Lewis's thigh until you squirted all over that muscle, your juices soaking the couch.

"You got Daddy so hard, princess," he purrs, palming himself over the fabric of his underwear. "Fuck, look at you...Daddy just made you cum and you already want more."

"I wanna see you, Daddy, please," you whine in frustration, hand coming down to your pussy to slip a finger between your dripping folds in an attempt to relieve the brutal tension.

"You don't have to ask twice, baby girl." he exhales heavily at the sight of you playing with yourself, soft whimpers rolling off your tongue. His boxer briefs are on the floor in a flash and his hard cock bounces against the toned flesh of his stomach. Lewis is the only man who'd ever made you have a physical reaction to just the image of his dick. It was perfect just like the rest of him, with extra length and girth. He wrapped a hand around it, pumping himself as your own hand flew back to the counter, leaving your weeping hole exposed just for him.

"So hungry for me, baby. Your pussy ready for Daddy's cock?" a growl rumbles deep in his chest and hands come down to spread your ass again. You feel the length of his cock, heavy and hot, settle against your slit as he rocks his hips to collect your arousal along it.

The feeling of the head at your entrance is enough to make you let out a filthy moan. Then he's pushing, sliding in and you feel the breath leave your body as your pussy practically sucks in his thick length. His palms run up your body from your ass and he wraps your long hair around one hand, making you arch your back even more.

"Fuuuck, baby, you're so fucking tight for me." he groans.

You're at a loss for words when his cock is filling you up so good, so perfectly. A long whine is the only sound you can make when he begins fucking into you at a purposeful pace, the slick noises of his heavy balls hitting your clit making that familiar feeling start building in your core.

Lewis tightens his grip on your makeshift ponytail and leans over your arched figure to suck the skin of your neck into his mouth, only relenting his assault on the delicate space to whisper into your ear.

"This pussy was fucking made for me, you know that, right? You know Daddy's the only person who can make you feel this way," he lands a sharp slap on your ass cheek, the skin rippling against his consistent and powerful thrusts. "Tell me how good it feels, princess."

"Love your cock, Daddy, " you wail shakily, the sensation in your core making you tremble. "You're gonna make me cum!"

Lewis is relentless now, pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace as his arm snakes around your waist to help fuck you back onto his cock.

"Daddy, fuck!" you scream as his tip hits that devastatingly sweet spot and your orgasm rips through you, your pussy squeezing him tightly.

"Yes, baby, just like that," he groans. "Squeezing Daddy's cock so fucking good."

He barely lets up, and his pace is killing you now as his length drags along your sensitive walls, still pulsating from your orgasm. The feeling of his larger frame draped over yours, the hand in your hair, the arm around your waist, is other-worldly.

"Daddy's gonna fill this pussy up, ok? You wanna feel me cumming in your tight little cunt?"

All you can do is nod frantically, the sounds of his moans and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck knocking you into a tailspin.

"Yes, give it to me Daddy, please give it to me."

"Fuck," he pants as his thrusts start to become erratic, his cock buried deep inside of you. "Gonna give you Daddy's cum, gonna fill you up babygirl, gonna have you dripping with me-"

He comes with a deep groan and you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up from the inside. You're both panting messes now, the sound of your exhausted breaths making you giggle. Lewis kisses the side of your face, settling gently against your weak figure.

"Holy shit," he murmurs into your neck. "I have to send you shopping more often."

#my writing #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton smut

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

Text

Coming Home (Part Eleven)

Azriel x Reader

Is this me...being SOFT?! (Seriously tho, I have zero experience with writing romance and chemistry between characters, so I'm sorry if it's not great lol)

Warnings: None!

⧪

Mor tells me you aren’t coming to Starfall.

The handwriting was Azriel’s. Brilliant and intricate on the parchment that had appeared before you, you studied the curves and loops of the words, a smile playing on your lips.

Mor would be right about that, you wrote back.

Things had become…better — calmer — in the two weeks since that awful night in Windhaven. You’d braved a few returns to check in on Thea and the other girls — Azriel insisting on taking you there and back every time — and they were recovering well. The relentless strength of younglings never failed to amaze you.

Things with Rhys were on better footing — in the loosest way. Not perfect, by any means, but you’d agreed to put things behind you for the time being. There was still much you needed to talk about, get out in the open, but you’d decided to let things lie until after Starfall.

And then there was Azriel.

You were friends again, no longer avoiding each other, no tiptoeing around a massive rift. You were on your best behaviour, keeping things purely platonic and not overstepping the mark. And it was a relief. A weight off your shoulders.

Things between you had begun to feel like they used to — like they were before you’d dared to attempt that kiss on Starfall night all those years ago. A comforting, familiar thing that you’d gladly fallen back into, just like old times—

Yet somewhere amongst it all, things had slowly begun to…change. Become different.

The notes — writing back and forth when you weren’t physically together — was an entirely new thing. Azriel’s witty words had become somewhat of a calming presence during long days at the clinic. You found yourself excited for the notes to appear before you, found yourself grinning like an idiot as you read over his thoughts and questions and light teasing, and you formulated your responses.

And maybe he was just trying to make sure you were keeping your shit together after that awful night in Windhaven. Or maybe he was simply enjoying having your friendship back, revelling in it. Whatever it was…Azriel was always the instigator. Always the first to write.

It’s your first Starfall in almost a century — why would you not come?

You studied the question he’d written back, chewing your lip. So many things you could write — the truth, maybe; that you weren’t sure you could face the memory of your last Starfall in its entirety. It was one thing having the gnawing recollection of it in the back of your mind, staining your cheeks pink, but being back up on that balcony while light and life burst through the skies above you, was a whole different thing. Seeing the passing stars cast flashes of light across Azriel’s sculpted face, his full lips—

No. Pointing that out to him did not align with the whole being friends thing. It would be inappropriate, awkward, to bring it up.

So you simply wrote back, I have nothing to wear.

Such a pathetic excuse, that you snorted to yourself — and imagined Az doing the same. Seconds passed before his writing once more appeared before your eyes.

So I’ll buy you something.

Your heart did a silly, pathetic flip, a grin pulling at your lips. You loved this — the teasing; had missed it. And even though it was slightly different to what it had once been…somehow more than it had once been…it still made you feel light and giddy and content.

Yes — you could totally do the friendship thing. Could totally be responsible and appropriate and proper.

You didn’t write back to his jestful suggestion, having found yourself occupied by a patient walking through the door of the clinic.

But it was just as you were closing up for a quick lunch at noon, that you heard the thud of footsteps approaching the front counter, and you turned to find Azriel there in all his brilliant, dark glory.

The sight of him had your heart picking up. Gods, he was beautiful. Writing notes back and forth was one thing, but…seeing him in person…you felt your body flush.

You gave him a once-over — no injuries that you could detect. So why was he here?

“Please tell me you haven’t been hit with an ash arrow again.” You said.

One side of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin. “No, lady. I’m completely intact.”

A stab of relief pinched at you, relaxing your shoulders. “So what brings you here? I was just about to close up and take a quick lunch.”

“Perfect. We’re going shopping.”

You stopped, blinking. Surely he wasn’t serious. He seemed to find your surprise amusing, and he dipped his chin, as if to hide a smile.

“Don’t you have someone to spy on, or something?” You asked. Most days, it was a novelty if anyone saw Azriel at all, besides the flash of his flying form in the skies above them.

“No, I don’t.” He smiled. “My afternoon is free — and yours. If you’ll have my company.”

If. Was he aware of how preposterous it was to bring such a thing into question? Of course you'd have his company — as much of it as he’d give. Maybe he truly didn’t realise that.

Still, your eyes flicked around the wooden interior of the clinic, responsibility nagging at you from the back of your mind.

Azriel tracked your gaze. “I’m sure anyone in great need of a healer would track Madja down.” He pointed out. “Why don’t you close up for the rest of the day? You work hard enough as it is.”

You cocked an eyebrow, the phrase pot-kettle-black springing to mind. “As do you.”

“Well, then.” The smirk on his lips was delicious, breathtaking as he held out a hand to you. “Clearly we both deserve a break. Let’s have some fun.”

And maybe it was stupid and reckless and not in keeping with the platonic boundaries the two of you had set for yourselves, but you relented.

Every part of you tingled as you placed your hand in his, and he led you out the door.

⧪

The Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Perhaps the most opulent of the four market squares in Velaris. Every inch of it boasted wealth and decadence, with window displays of intricately-woven tapestries, others glinting with the jewels and gems that the afternoon light bounced off of. And of course, the clothiers; it seemed there were outfitters there for every occasion you could possibly need to shop for, be it a ball or a wedding, a steamy night with your mate – even just lounging at home. You’d always found it breathtaking; the talents behind the makers of such garments and jewels. That they knew precisely what to do with yards and yards of beautiful fabrics.

It dawned on you very quickly that in the time you’d been back, you hadn’t truly taken the chance to simply appreciate the unique experience that was walking around Velaris. It was an assault on the senses in the most heady, wonderful way. The constant accompaniment of chatter, and the faraway music that drifted on a wind from The Rainbow, seeming to snake its way through all corners of the city. The trickle of the market fountain that children played around, flicking coins into the water or chasing birds across the square. And the delicious smells that wafted from restaurants and cafes, of tea and coffee and spices and sweet treats.

So many places you’d been to across the world, and yet none of them were quite like this.

Azriel strode closely by your side, eyes always watching and alert. He wouldn’t say it, but…you got the sense that he was uncomfortable, with the way people stared – soaking in the novelty of their High Lord’s spymaster and sister strolling amongst them. Even with his scarred hands tucked into gloves, he kept them shoved inside his pockets as though making entirely sure that no one would catch a glance.

It made you want to grab one of those hands more than ever. Hold it openly and proudly.

Azriel led you into a shop that you’d trailed Mor around many times before – her favourite, you knew. The clothes it sold were gorgeous, the seamstress behind every one of the pieces an utter expert at producing intricate garments that were sexy and classy and beautiful. You brushed your hand over different dresses as you followed Az in, wondering what might look good on you, which colours were best against your skin tone, which materials complemented your body the most.

The two of you looked up as the seamstress emerged from the back of the shop, her eyes immediately fixing on Azriel. She looked him up and down, a familiar flash of hunger in her eyes.

“Shadowsinger,” She greeted him – not you – in a voice as smooth as melted chocolate. “What can I do for you today?”

Azriel inclined his head in your direction, hands still shoved into his pockets. “I’m here to find the lady an outfit suitable for Starfall. One as beautiful as she is. I know you must have something, Mauve.”

Mauve was forced to look at you then – though she seemed reluctant to tear her eyes from Azriel. She appraised you in a way that made you feel strangely naked, her eyes taking in the dips and curves of your body. “I’m sure there’s something here you’d find suitable.”

“We won’t keep you from your work.” Azriel’s smile was easy, charming – and a clear dismissal. “We’ll give you a shout should we require your assistance.”

Mauve didn’t push it. Dipping her chin, she turned and disappeared through the door she’d emerged from, leaving you and Az alone on the shop floor.

You turned to him, a small, coy smile playing on your lips. You couldn’t quite believe you were going along with this – allowing him to buy you something for Starfall when you hadn’t even agreed to attend in the first place. You felt strangely nervous and shy, fiddling with your hands.

“Would you favour a dress?” Az murmured in his lilting voice, already walking past clothes racks and mannequins in slow, easy strides. “Or perhaps something more akin to Amren’s style?”

You cleared your throat, falling into step beside him. “Um. A dress, I suppose…”

He nodded, and you watched as he finally pulled his hands from his pockets. The gloves came off next, bearing his beautiful hands to the warm interior of the shop. It took you a moment to realise he hadn’t merely grown too hot from the heating enchantment – he wanted to feel the fabrics. To test how different materials brushed his skin.

He ran his hand over different dresses, a pinch of thought on his face. “You like autumnal colours. Reds and oranges and yellows.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. An observation. He’d actually noticed that about you – taken note of the shades you often wore, the different ones you paired together.

“I do.” You concurred, watching his fingers glide over silk of a burnt orange colour.

“Perhaps that’s why you like Lucien Vanserra so much.”

Your eyes flickered to his, finding him already gazing at you, his head on a slight tilt. His face was always so unreadable, it was hard to know the meaning or intent behind his words. But you thought…thought maybe there was a flash of ire in there somewhere. Or something like it.

“What’s so bad about Lucien?” You asked.

Azriel shook his head. “Lucien isn’t a bad male. Not by any stretch of the imagination.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. “Perhaps I’m just selfish.”

Before you could question him, he brushed past you, crossing the shop floor and stopping before another rack. You could feel the frown tugging at your face – something about you wanted to push the subject.

But things were good again. And you were enjoying yourself for the first time in a long while. You were loath to get into a disagreement with him.

“Here.” His voice hummed as you approached him from behind. He angled slightly towards you, his deft fingers brushing a velvet dress the colour of plum. “This – it reminds me of the dress you wore at the ball Rhys threw for your nineteenth birthday.”

You baulked at him. “You remember that?”

His hazel eyes were like heated syrup that burned into yours. Like he was trying to communicate something without saying the words.

“How could I forget?” Was all he offered.

Indeed, that night was the most beautiful you’d ever felt, after years of plain, unassuming clothes that you merely wore to hide the scars Tamlin’s father had left you with. The first time you’d ever really felt like a woman instead of a girl – and it seemed that every male in that ballroom had echoed that sentiment. Never had you been asked for so many dances or offered so many drinks. That dress had given you confidence you’d never imagined yourself having. And you’d never quite been able to emulate it since.

“Do you see anything you like?” Az asked, letting the fabric drop from his fingers. “Whatever you want, you’ll have.”

There it was again – that flipping of your heart and your stomach. You pursed your lips, nodding at the plum velvet dress. “I want to try it on.”

You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile as he eased it from the rack, holding it carefully as though he was worried his scarred hands would marr the beauty of the garment. Still, he carried it for you, leading you through to the small changing area.

“I’ll wait here.” He handed you the dress, perching on a chair that in no way accommodated his massive wings.

You were…you were nervous, you realised, as you sidled into the changing stall, the dress draped over your arm, and slid the curtain across. Something felt so intimate about this situation…like crossing a little line you never had before.

You didn’t quite understand how you’d ended up here, when a matter of weeks ago, you and Az hadn’t been talking. Not that you were complaining.

You undressed, hyper-aware that nothing but a flimsy curtain was separating the two of you. Your body felt too hot, too tight as you slid the dress on, the velvet caressing your skin.

And realised the dress did up from the back.

You almost groaned. Like the Mother, the Cauldron, the Gods-damn fates, were trying to push you into compromising situations with Az, no matter how hard you tried to avoid them, to behave yourself. Of course you would try on a dress you couldn’t reach the fucking ties to.

You tweaked back the curtain an inch, clearing your throat. “Um…” You murmured, cheeks flushing as Az glanced up. “It kind of…laces up at the back.”

He stared at you. Just for a split second, before he rose from the chair, so big in that tiny little changing section that it was almost comical. You stepped aside to make room, and he had to duck just to get into the changing stall.

You turned your back to him, coming face-to-face with the mirror. And the sight of you both…him stood at your back like that, close enough to feel the cool press of his leathers against your skin…it could well have set you alight.

It was an effort to keep yourself upright, to stop your knees from buckling, as Az’s rough fingers gently brushed your hair to the side, letting it fall over one shoulder. He was silent as he began to pull at the laces, but his breaths – they were heavy. Loud. Fanning the back of your neck with delicious warmth.

“Hope I’m doing this right.” He murmured, his brow pinched in concentration.

The dress was pulling tighter against you, accentuating the silhouette of your figure through the fabric. And perhaps that was why you were breathing so quick and so heavy, feeling like you may just pass out from the proximity, from his potent, earthy scent. You closed your eyes as you felt him reach the last of the laces, bracing your hand against the wall.

“There.” His voice was soft, gentle, the sound of it moving through his chest and brushing your back. It was a task in itself to bite down the moan that wanted to slip from your lips.

It took you a while to actually face what you looked like in that dress. And Az was patient, still lingering behind you as you slowly opened your eyes and drank in your reflection. It was simple, yet pretty…not adorned with beads or jewels, but it didn’t need to be. Something about the soft velvet…the deep purple shade…it just looked right. Dark and gorgeous and daring.

Like you belonged in the Night Court.

Az was staring, too. Staring hard. You watched as his eyes moved down and down, taking in every inch of you; appreciating every inch of you. They slowly flicked back up again, his gaze meeting yours in the mirror. You could see the rise and fall of your chest through the dress.

With careful movements – like he was testing himself, or you, or something – he placed a hand on your shoulder. His fingers brushed the skin there, before moving down the length of your arm. Each delicate touch left a trail of heat behind it. You wondered if he could feel it, sense it – what his touch did to you.

His eyes followed his own movements, watching as his fingers glided over your wrist and stopped at your hand. Where he took it in his own, his palm warm against the back of your hand.

He laced his fingers between yours, giving a gentle squeeze that drew the slightest of sounds from your throat.

“I’ve always thought you have the prettiest skin.” His voice was a whisper, and yet daringly loud in your ears.

You could have been the only two people left in the shop, in Velaris, in the whole fucking world, for all you aware of it. It was just you and him in that moment, in that tiny, cramped stall, when your bodies were pressed together, his hand clinging to yours.

“It’s like…” He continued, his thumb brushing over yours in soft strokes. “It makes me think of water. When it’s still and unbroken. Just…clear. Serene. Magical.”

You closed your eyes, sure you were definitely going to faint. Maybe even die. Maybe you were already dead, and this was the beyond, and–

You yelped as Az suddenly spun you around, forcing you to face him. A single breath had your fronts brushing against each other. He didn’t let go of your hand, and you didn’t dare open your eyes.

“Look at me…” He whispered.

Releasing a staggered breath, you willed your eyes to open. There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t tremble, even with the firm grip of his hand holding onto you. You could feel how flushed your cheeks were, how much of a simpering fool you must have looked.

But Azriel drank you in – not your reflection, but you. Every last bit of you. His throat worked on a swallow, his lips parting.

“You…” He breathed, swallowing again. “You’re a wonder.”

Your heart did that silly little flip in your chest, your eyes darting to the ground. You couldn’t face him like this, couldn’t–

“Don’t hide from me,” His other hand gently grabbed your chin. “Please…”

There were so many things you wanted to say in that moment. So many things you wanted to do – the most pressing being the urge to shove him against the wall, to rip his clothes off and taste every bit of him. Or maybe you could be slow, be methodical about it. Maybe you could try a small, soft kiss, test the waters–

“Hello?” The harsh, feminine voice was like being jolted awake. You and Az jerked back from each other just as the curtain was pulled aside, and the seamstress took in the sight of you both, pursing her lips in clear disapproval. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She asked.

Az looked to you inquisitively – it was your choice. “We’ll get whatever you like. This one, or we can look for another–”

“I like this dress.” You cut in quickly, clearing your throat. “I’ll get this one.”

The seamstress gave the two of you one more scathing glance before she nodded. “I’ll be waiting at the counter.”

Az turned back to you, eyes flicking over you again. Eyes you couldn’t meet without losing your cool completely.

You cleared your throat again. “I think I can actually manage with the laces.”

Azriel seemed to hesitate, before he nodded. “I’ll be just out there, then.”

He stepped out, pausing just to cast one more glance at you over his shoulder. Like he wanted one more look at you in that dress.

“Very good choice.” He said quietly, and let the curtain fall between you.

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

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misc-obeyme · 8 months

Note

For kinktober, maybe Leviathan and dacryphilia? I want to make that boy SOB-

So excited for this! I always love your work

Hello, anon! And thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying my writing! <3

Okay, hopefully I didn't go overboard with how much Levi is crying, but you said you want to make him sob, so here we are lol. I very much believe that it's praise that will make Levi cry every time. Is that based on personal experience? No absolutely not. I just want to praise him until the end of time, that's all.

Anyway, I'm hoping this turned out okay!

Thanks for submitting a prompt!

KINKTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: dacryphilia, penetration (reader receiving), pet name (for Levi, also I almost never include pet names but it just felt right this time lol I'm sorry in advance)

It was a quiet day at the House of Lamentation. For once, you were almost alone in the house. Most of the brothers were out somewhere else. Lucifer was in his office working and Leviathan was with you, but otherwise the place was empty.

You had convinced Levi to leave his room long enough to come to your room because you wanted to watch anime with him while sitting comfortably on your bed. Levi was a blushing mess as you settled in beside him. It was clear he was trying not to react to the way you rested your head on his shoulder.

About halfway through the episode, you noticed that Levi was squirming quite a bit beside you. It wasn't like him to get distracted while watching anime, so you turned your head to look at his face.

You weren't surprised to see his blush, but he also wasn't even looking at the screen. You felt around for the remote, finding it under your fingers before pausing the show.

Levi blinked. "Huh? Why did you pause it?"

"You aren't even watching," you said, sitting up to look at him more directly.

Levi rubbed at the back of his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "Of course I was! The librarian was about to take off her glasses and reveal her beauty!"

This was proof of nothing because it was obvious that was about to happen next. Any otaku worth his salt would've been able to tell you that, even if he hadn't been paying attention. You squinted at Levi, trying to figure out what was really going on.

Your eyes traveled down from his face and that was when you finally figured it out. The bulge in Levi's pants was so obvious, you weren't sure how you didn't notice it earlier. You smirked.

"Oh," you said. "I see what the problem is."

"Y-you do?" Levi practically squeaked, still unable to look at you.

You leaned forward and put a hand on his bulge. "Why don't we take care of this so that you can focus on the show, hmm?"

Levi whimpered. "I'm so sorry, MC!" he burst out. "I'm just a gross otaku and I'm not even good at that! How could I lose focus like this during such an important episode! You don't have to do anything. Just let me go back to my own room in shame."

He was about to scramble off your bed, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. You straddled his hips before he could try to get away again.

"Absolutely not," you said, looking down at him. You put your fingertips on his lips. "You aren't gross, Levi. Right now? All I want to do is ride you."

Levi stared at you, seemingly at a loss for words. "Y-you want to…?"

You brushed some of his hair back and out of his eyes. "Don't you get it? I think you're beautiful. You're perfect."

The tears that filled Levi's eyes surprised you. He took in a shaky breath and closed them, causing the tears to spill over and run down his cheeks.

"No, no, baby," you said, leaning down to kiss the tears off his skin. "If you're going to cry it's because I'm making you feel good, got it?"

Levi couldn't even formulate a response. You had to take control, moving enough to pull down his pants and freeing his cock. It was still hard, even leaking, and you pumped it a few times with your hand. You were rewarded with a throaty moan, slightly tinged with the thickness of Levi's tears.

You moved enough of your own clothing to allow you to position yourself to take him in.

You paused, hands on Levi's shoulders, and looked into his eyes. They were still wet and he looked up at you as though he couldn't believe you were even real. You smiled and maintained eye contact with him while you lowered yourself down on his cock.

You weren't able to keep your eyes on him for long because they rolled back as you went all the way down, feeling the tip hit that perfect spot inside you. You moaned and Levi whimpered.

Levi's hands went to your hips, resting there almost hesitantly. You began to move and you weren't gentle. You already couldn't get enough of his cock, bouncing quickly in his lap. Levi's hands gripped harder as you did this, like he couldn't help it.

"MC, MC," he moaned out your name. When you looked at him again, you saw the tears had returned. They were trailing down his cheeks.

You put your hands on either side of his face. "These better be tears of pleasure," you said between your heavy breaths.

Levi only nodded, unable to speak. His eyes were closed now, tears continuing to seep out of them, running into your fingers.

You increased the pace, chasing that high you could feel yourself so close to. The build up and the tension filling you, as you felt Levi begin to thrust up into you, his cock hitting you so perfectly, his tears damp against your skin.

Levi cried out as he came, voice still thick with tears, and the sound of it pushed you over the edge. You clamped down on his shoulders as you felt your mingled liquids dripping down your legs.

You rested your forehead against his, gently wiping away all of his tears. "Hush now," you said. "You were amazing, Levi."

Later you would be able to finish watching the episode you had paused. But Levi insisted on keeping his head in your lap the whole time, seemingly unable to look at you. He was embarrassed about crying so much, no matter how you reassured him. You made a mental note that complimenting Levi a lot was the way to turn on the waterworks.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me smut #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan smut #obey me levi #obey me levi smut #om leviathan #om levi #leviathan obey me #levi obey me #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me kinktober #misc kinktober 2023 #misc naughty times #misc writes

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polarisjisung · 9 months

Text

cherry flavoured

05— WALK YOU HOME

SYNOPSIS: y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung

PAIRING : dancer!jisung x fem!reader

jisung knew it wasn't healthy, the way he was so focused on getting his routine perfect, the one move he just couldn't get down occupying his mind, the image of him messing up every single time imprinted into his brain

dancing, for him at least, had always been relaxing, until he was voted in as captain of the dance team— now the responsibility weighed down on his shoulders and the expectation to be perfect and a flawless dancer didn't seem to alleviate the situation

on nights like these jisung wished he hadn't lied to his friends saying he was just working on a project in the library, or going on a walk, he wished he had an outlet, someone who'd save him from himself when the tears would brim in his eyes and reassure him that what he was doing was enough— he didn't want to be left alone in these moments no matter how many times he said it but he couldn't blame the guys when they'd never even known anything was wrong

just this once, jisung convinces himself a quick walk about campus will do enough to clear his head before he heads home, but the squeaking of worn out trainers against a freshly cleaned court seems to grab his attention

he'd seen her a couple times since the party, somehow always in the 02 jersey she wore around campus, exchanging smiles every so often, but never actually on the court

her red hair is tied back into a loose ponytail, one that swings with her every move, the orange tinge of a ball faintly visible in her hands as she makes an aim for the hoop above her once again and despite the ball bouncing back down through the net successfully, she doesn't seem satisfied— jisung wonders if she had an outlet, someone who'd take her away from the self critiquing thoughts that circulated her mind

he doesn't know when, or why, perhaps the similarity of their situations, he assumes, but he finds himself walking her way, tired feet softly treading on the maple floors

"I didn't think I'd find anyone else on campus" he says, unsure what to say to you when you turns to face him, sweat dripping down your face, a barely visible red flush spreading across your features

his own blue hair is matted to his forehead, a pair of loose black trackpants and white shirt doing more than enough to tell you he had been practising too— the sight has you choking back on your words, unable to formulate sentences with him stood in front of you like this

"how long have you been here?" he asks, slight worry creeping through his tone, you feel the heat rise up to your cheeks again and smile

"I only got here at around 7" you sigh, dribbling the ball, "what about you?"

jisung doesn't seem to even want to respond to your question, eyes wide in shock as he grabs your hand and leads you off the court

"it's reaching on midnight you know" he flashes his phone screen, "you can always practise another day, don't overwork yourself"

jisungs words are so genuine you find yourself wishing you'd come across him before, lips threatening to curl upwards when you realise his hand still grips yours tightly

but before you can reply, a loud rumble from your stomach has you crouching down in embarrassment

"I take it you haven't eaten" you smile his way shyly, shaking your head when he chuckles again, the same deep hoarse chuckle from somewhere in the back of his throat that has your stomach tied up in knots

"I haven't either, let's grab something and I'll walk you home?"

you don't realise you've barely even said anything, too concentrated on hearing the words fall from his lips, basking in the warmth of his speech

"sounds good pretty boy" he pulls you up, finally letting go of your hand, the cool air hitting your sweaty palm as you walk side by side— your basketball tucked safely between your waist as the boy next to you wordlessly took hold of your bag

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES: I just wanna incorporate more dancer jisung 😔

TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @jising-jisang-jisung @nanawrlds @222brainrot @chichiuu @dinonuguaegi @ishireads @yyy90210 @hibernatinghamster @stqrrian @makiswrld @everywonuu @marizhua @luumiinaa @asteriaskingdom @jeongintwt @90s-belladonna

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mosneakers · 2 months

Text

Tycho would go on to break his promise to Coraleye, having told her he’d call her when he gets back to Strangerville. In fact, it's been barely three minutes into his drive, the memory of their last kiss and her soft lips still lingering in his mind like a film reel on loop, when Tycho's resolve crumbles and he reaches for his phone.

"Coraleye..." He swoons as she answers his call.

Tycho can vividly picture Erwin's smug grin as he imagines him jokingly calling him a pathetic goon. But that doesn't matter to Tycho. Actually, looking back on tonight's events, he can't quite recall what possessed him to feel so jealous—likely just a stressful situation with emotions running high for everyone. Coraleye was right—Erwin is his best friend. And at the end of the day, Tycho gets Coraleye all to himself. He knows this from the way she lovingly promises it through whispers over the phone, stirring butterflies within him.

Tycho: I... I can multitask you know... I just miss you already. One little picture isn't gonna hurt...

Coraleye: Huh-uh! Not while you're driving, Tycho. You know how I feel about risky stuff like that, safety first.

Tycho: [Frustrated, playful groan] You're killing me, Darling.

Coraleye: That's what I'm trying to avoid.

Tycho: Okay, how about this, I need to stop for gas anyway. Pretty sure the nearest gas station is less than 5—

Coraleye: I'll talk to you soon, Tyke. Love you. [Laughter] Tycho: I- I love you too. Is that a yes or—

Tycho clumsily juggles his phone while pumping gas, his fingers fumbling with the touchscreen as he eagerly awaits Coraleye's message. Her name pops up on his screen, and it's like a gift from the heavens, his jaw drops when he opens it. Mesmerized by the photo, he struggles to formulate the perfect response. Suddenly, his phone chirps loudly indicating an incoming call, causing him to jump and spill a bit of gas as it overflows onto the pavement. Cursing softly, he quickly wipes his hands and tries to regain his composure before redirecting his attention back to his phone. "Coni," it reads. His stomach drops as he eagerly accepts, his heart racing as he puts the phone to his ear. Tycho: CONI???

Coni: Hey. You alone right now? Tycho: Hey? Y-yes—Where have you been? Everyone's worried sick about you... Coni: Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Listen— Erwin almost got abducted tonight. Tycho: WHAT? Coni: It was a close call. Right next to his Curio-stand, as he was getting off work. They... they almost had him, but I pulled him in last minute. He didn't know it was me, I was in a different disguise. Tycho: D-did you—

Coni: Erase his memory? No. I told him that they're going to eliminate him. I needed him to remember it. He went home right after. The news is all over it, Tycho. Vans surrounding the scene as we speak. I can't keep watching him, you'll need to step in. Tycho: I... I'm on the way. Coni... what happened? Between you and Sunglo? Things were going so well, I don't understand. Coni: [Brief pause] He knows. Tycho's head feels like it's spinning in circles. Tycho: [Voice quivering] He... he knows what exactly? [Voice quivering] Everything?

Coni: Not everything. He knows about me. I told him. I was tired, Tycho. Tycho can't argue or question her, he knows exactly how she feels.

Tycho: Does Coraleye know? Coni: [Long sigh] He promised not to tell anyone, but I'd be surprised if he didn't tell her. Tycho: Oh god, I... Tycho begins to hyperventilate, he can feel himself begin to unravel.

Coni: Just relax. It's all gonna work out, I got it under control. I'm an icon, remember? For now, just focus on getting back to Strangerville and keeping Erwin safe, got it?

Tycho finds a slight reprieve in Coni's reassurance, and he lets himself breathe a little. Tycho: I'll get there as soon as I can. But first, Coni? Coni: Yeah? Tycho: Can you call her? Coraleye? Just so she and... everyone knows you're okay. Glo's worried too. Coni: [Sighs] Sure, Tycho. I'll call her.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 story #MD4season10 #MD4 #Strangerville #Tycho Curious #Coni Breeder #Brindleton Bay

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lets-try-some-writing · 10 months

Note

Wait... Soundwave wants to turn the human kiddos into cassettes? How does that go? Does it work?

I have been sitting on this idea for a while now and I hate that it took me literally two months to formulate a response, but here it is-

Previous part here.

═════════════════

The humans belonged to him. He found them, he tended to them, and he learned who they were more than anyone else ever bothered to. The three human sparklings, his perfect cassettes... they were soft, weak, damageable, and likely to perish in but the passing of a cycle in his mind's eye. He refused to allow that, not after he finally found little ones in need of aid who could be his new cassettes.

The Autobots claimed the children as theirs, but the simple fact that they came back to him when they wanted affection told Soundwave all he needed to know. There was no need for him to abandon Megatron or join the Autobots to keep his precious cassettes. All he needed to do was make his cassettes strong enough to endure being handled like Cybertronian cassettes and all would be well. He could take them back to the Nemesis and they would adapt with time. Emotions like anger and sorrow would pass under his dutiful care. There was no need for concern, he just needed to play his cards right until he had what he needed.

Soundwave has always been quiet in his work, thus it was not difficult to begin formulating plans. Rafael was the easiest to begin with, largely due to the fact that he already had unique abilities. It was not hard to leave a simple hologram dummy in place of Rafael and take the child to Shockwave. Singing to Rafael and injecting him with mild sedatives kept him from waking as he was placed onto an operating table and Shockwave was allowed to begin his work. It was a simple process, a small implant in the child's head around his growth glands that would slowly begin turning the child's cells into something more Cybertronian in nature and allow for energon to begin being integrated into the body. Then beyond the tiny implant that would fly under human scans were tiny implants in the spine that would with time, change to allow plating to start to develop once the child's body was strong enough and at least more than 60% non organic.

Rafael didn't even know he'd been altered and was returned home without issue. Shockwave was happy to do the work for scientific purposes and Megatron was merely tolerating the situation since it ensured Soundwave would remain loyal. All was well, and while it was most certainly harder to worm his way into collecting Miko and Jack undetected, he managed to get them the correct implants too without their knowledge. The Autobots suspected nothing and allowed Soundwave to roam as he pleased. Out of pure caution he never revealed their whereabouts or knowledge to Megatron, he couldn't risk losing his cassettes before they were ready. Besides, the Autobots were decent caretakers while Soundwave was away working.

Thus with the implants ready, Soundwave began the second phase without issue. He prepared his little cassettes food and laced it with just enough energon to be of use. He did this every. single. day. for months until at last he started getting results.

The children began getting aches and pains, all of them not wanting to move around much and rather preferring to stay still or with Soundwave. Their food choices differed and they started only wanting what Soundwave prepared to the point of concerning the Autobots. The children began getting tired, sleeping more and moving less while also seeing and hearing more than they should be able to. Even still, they weren't strong enough, so Soundwave waited and waited until at last he had his sign.

Hair began to stiffen and turn to metal, soft flesh hardened, and bones grew sturdier. Bit by bit the children found metal in their frames, growing and changing them to match Cybertronians in some peculiar way. However Soundwave did not snatch them up until Rafael showed the first signs of plating growth when he ran his hands through his hair and small metal plates shined where Soundwave could see. He needed no other reason to wait, and thus too the children swiftly as he had so many months prior. The Autobots should have been more careful. Did they not fear one who was once a servant of the council and a gladiator in the pits?

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #soundwave #tfp kids #transformers sparklings #dadwave #cassettes #alternate universe #look at that #more dadwave because I can #more serious stuff eventually #but for now take some slightly angsty fluff

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mp3chan · 2 years

Text

1:47am [F]

plz reblog if you enjoy it!

pairing: bangchan x (chubby) gn!reader

word count: 844

tw: insecurities, very mild angst (like a sprinkle), mentions of nayeon (not tw but i don’t want anyone to think i hate her i don’t she’s literally one of my twice biases), chan makes one lewd comment

sum: y/n suddenly feels very insecure and chris immediately steps into action! channie to the rescue!

an: im trying to figure out if I prefer referring to bangchan as chan or chris so rn I will flip flop between the two (this is also very self indulgent)

you stared at the photo of chris and nayeon on his phone. he said he had been helping her with her solo album and popped into to her album shoot just to say hi.

“doesn’t she look really pretty?” chris commented, he was always complimenting the girl idols, mostly to their faces, knowing how much they struggled with diets and body image due to the nature of the industry.

you understood his support of nayeon and knew they were just friends, you even overheard her calling him her brother. but something about calling her pretty for the umpteenth time today just bothered you.

“yeah she looks great.” you finally managed to get out, trying not to let it show how much that hurt. you pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them.

sometimes you didn’t understand what chris saw in you, couldn’t see the so called ‘beauty’ he did. you didn’t voice how often you really had these thoughts and just put on a brave face to not stress him out. he had enough on his plate, he didn’t need to deal with your insecurities as well.

you must have been spaced out and in your own head for awhile because when you looked back up, chris was in front of you, his phone tossed aside on his bed and leaning in close to you.

you quietly gasped not expecting him to be so close and blinked in confusion as to just what he was doing.

“what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hm?” chris asked you, a small smile appearing on his face, he was just so handsome. you didn’t understand.

“why do you like me?” you blurted, the filter slipping away for a moment. “out of all the idols and beautiful models and people you could have had, you chose me.” you added, not able to look him in the eyes by now. “i don’t understand, never have.”

chris was stunned to say the least, he knew you had your insecure moments but you always seemed confident in your body and just overall.

“what are you talking about?” was the only response chris could formulate in that moment, letting his mind properly think after saying that. “do you think you’re not enough for me?” he asked you, lifting your chin gently so you were forced to look at him.

“i know i’m not enough, channie.” you sighed, pulling your head away so you could avoid his gaze again. only for him to pull your gaze back to him.

“explain.” was the only word he said, it sounded stern, almost angry.

“i mean someone like nayeon just seems like a better fit for you. i can’t even fit in your hoodies and she’d drown in them, she’s in the same industry you are and she gets the struggle and she’s just so perfect and i’m just….me.” you sniffled, closing your eyes so you could keep avoiding his gaze, you never wanted chris to know the severity of your insecurities.

“but that’s the exact reason i’m so in love with you.” chris chuckled, not realizing he just told you he’s in love with you for the first time.

you gasped and your eyes snapped open to stare at him. “you love me?” you asked him, still not fully believing him.

chris went bright red when he realized he said that and took a deep breath. “of course i love you.” he caressed your chubby cheek gently. “nayeon is a good person but she’s not you. she could never be you.” he explained and it just confused you even more.

“you’re almost always here when i get home to make sure i get something to eat and vent about my day. you’re so understanding and patient about my career and not a lot of people would be. you have the cutest cheeks that are just perfect to pinch, the best boopable nose, lips that I could kiss until i die.” chris started rambling, watching your cheeks get redder the more he spoke. “the best arms to be wrapped up in a hug in. the softest tummy to rest my head against when i’m tired. the plumpest thighs that I would easily let suffocate me as i eat you out.”

you gasped and smacked his shoulder at the lewd comment. “chris!”

“my name sounds perfect coming out of your mouth. your mind and humor is just amazing. you’re so thoughtful and helpful. i’ve never been happier, y/n.” chris whispered to you, your lips millimeters from touching.

“i love you.” you whispered, feeling a tear of happiness slid down your cheek.

chris smiled, gently wiping that tear away, and gently pecked your lips. “i’ve always loved you, it’s always been you, my love.” he rested his forehead against yours. “and it will always be you.”

you smiled, the negative thoughts fully melting away for good. you knew you’d have your moments in the future, but never like this.

not if chris had anything to do with it.

#mp3chanwrites #bangchan imagines #chan imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bangchan fluff #chan fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader #chan x y/n #skz x reader

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aveegrex · 2 years

Text

A SANDWICH?

Or why exactly winning a bet against Nanami feels like he still has an upper hand.

genre: smut prompt pairing: Nanami x gn!reader word count: 0,9k cw: filmed masturbation (m!), confessions, food play

author’s note: I am NOT responsible for this. I wrote it half-asleep and @diaphanoso okayed it so now y’all have it. Whatever :/

You and Nanami have been working together for so long that your relationship progressed past the boundary of an office one.

You not only share lunches, but also dinners sometimes - well, two foodies finding one another in lifeless walls of a lifeless financial firm, what a modern day romance.

So, there’s this little game you two have. A challenge. Every day each of you tries to outdo the other cooking-wise. Every day you and Nanami head to either your or his place and while one is working their magic, another has to wait patiently for said magic to bless their tastebuds.

One day, you surprise him though.

“Bet I can make you hell of a sandwich” you say, munching on his homemade vegan lasagna.

His brows fly up. “A sandwich?”

You swallow, a playful hum indicating your satisfaction with the meal of the day. “Yeah, a sandwich. But-“ you chug lukewarm tea and Nanami winces, still annoyed at your barbaric afterwork habits. “I bet I can make it just like your favorite one, from the bakery. You won’t tell the difference”

He scoffs at that, wiping his hands with a cotton napkin. “You do realise they put some chemicals there to postpone the due date, right? You won’t find it on a shelf in some sto-“

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re up?”

He shrugs, tongue gliding over his teeth behind the tomato-stained lips. “I guess. What’s the catch?”

You grin, a chuckle rumbling through your chest. “You’ll owe me one wish. Any wish. However weird or crazy. And vice versa, sure”

“Okay” he grins back, certain of his victory.

Days pass, and a couple of dozens of shared dinners later, when he’s effectively forgotten about the bet, you present him with a package.

“Open up” you smile, devious glimmer blatant in your squinted eyes.

Nanami cocks his brow, turning from the keyboard to face you. He weighs the package in his hands, familiar pleasant heaviness and softness hinting at exactly what’s inside.

Wrapper gone, he ogles at the perfect piece of handiwork, indistinguishable from his guilty pleasure.

“Eat up already, come ooon” you whine, foot tapping at the hardwood in anticipation.

He nods, teeth digging into the crunchy bread nonchalantly, and stills. The taste is exact, just absolutely the same taste he’s had this morning. Identical.

Bemused, he raises his blown wide eyes to you, and you snicker at the silliest face of Nanami Kento the “please keep the noise down” coworker.

“How?” he’s wondering, impartial to the fact that he’s speaking with his mouth full.

“No, no, it’s only magic if you don’t know!”

“But-“ you lean closer to his ear, careful to never let the pre-pension age accountant in the corner hear you. “Now you owe me, Ken”

He nods, intent.

“Now, you owe me a set of nudes because I was dying to know what’s under the shirt of a man so hot I’d fuck his goddamn lunch”

He stills again, mouth slightly ajar to welcome another bite in. Putting the delicacy aside, he simply nods, not finding it in himself to word out anything to such a lewd confession.

After that encounter, you and Nanami stagnated. Too professional nods shared in the hallways, an order for one - for once, - in the nearby cafe, you pondered if you’ve ruined everything you two had going on, a sweet friendship that you threw away to honour your annoying horny.

The chat with him was unusually quiet all weekend, and you were head deep into your notes app, failing to formulate a makeshift apology for your inappropriate request. Words never stuck together right, and you were about to give up for the night, when a loud ping breeched the silence of your room.

Nanami Ken👨‍🦳: a video attachment.

Hands shaky, you open the dialogue too fast for your own good, finger tapping at the video the second it downloaded.

And you gasp. There, in a dim light of what you recognise to be Nanami’s kitchen, stands Nanami himself. Or so you guess, since his face is only there up to the nose.

Also, Nanami is naked.

Your silent room fills with small huffs and tiniest squelching sounds and your eyes blow wide. He’s stroking himself, perfect body flushed and glistening with sheen, his right hand moving characteristically for the deed. There are only glimpses of his dick, but what you manage to catch is impressive to say the least. Appetising.

He’s letting out the shallow moans, lips pressed tight, and you fail to hold your thighs from squeezing, barely restrained sounds of his pleasure exciting your own.

He’s close, and you anticipate to see his lips opening up to wash you over with what you believe will be the best moan of your life, but...

It’s so much fucking more.

Seconds away from climax, he yanks something from out of the frame and blood rushes to your core: a fucking sandwich sits atop of the table. Nanami shifts the camera with a shaky hand and you can see everything now: the full length, his contorted face, and how cum spurts lusciously out of his angry tip, covering up the bread and planting onto the lens in few drops.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Bon appetit, bun”

Cut.

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, eat well

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen prompt #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk smut #jjk brainrot #jjk nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x gn!reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n

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yuurei20 · 8 months

Text

Jamil Info Compilation part 17: Kalim(pt6)

During Spectral Soiree Kalim is possessed by a ghost that slaps Jamil’s hand away and tells him to mind his station and to never touch an aristocrat.

Silver tries to convince Kalim to return by reminding him that they are close friends, following with, “And I’m sure Jamil feels the same way,” but Jamil responds, “I, uh…suppose you’re not entirely off base.”

The best compliment that Jamil manages is “I’d take Kalim and his obliviousness over this pompous tyrant,” and the ghost leaves on its own in disgust at how lax the owner of the body it has possessed must be.

Jamil is often referring to Kalim as “a certain someone” or “you-know-who” when complaining about him, and it is through Jamil that we learn that Kalim may be a poor flier and poor at applying make up.

When Cater is shopping for souvenirs during Firelit Sky—debating between one hourglass for getting good grades and another for improved focus—Jamil silently thinks to himself that Kalim should not only get both, but that he would gift them to him himself.

Jamil tells Sebek that he is jealous of how Sebek is able to respect his housewarden.

When Sebek asks if that is not the case for Jamil, Jamil refuses to comment and says, “We have been together since we were born, It is only natural that others would view us that way.”

When comparing Kalim to Riddle, Jamil says that Kalim is “TOO easy going,” telling Trey that they both have their work cut out for them.

When Trey comments on how different Kalim and Riddle are Jamil responds, “And yet they are alike in their ability to cause ceaseless stress.”

Jamil says that Beanfest was “trivial compared to looking after Kalim. At least harps don’t run off and pull idiotic stunts.”

There is a general rule that Kalim only eats food that Jamil has personally prepared for him due to the constant risk of someone trying to poison the heir to the Asim family. Vil questions his baggage in Book 5 and Jamil explains, “It’s a set of potions and medicinal herbs, so that I can formulate antidotes in the event of an emergency.”

They get around this rule in a vignette where Kalim eats the lunches that Jamil had prepared for him the day before (both his own and Jamil’s), forcing them to eat at the school cafeteria. Jamil says there is no need to check for poison because the school offers a buffet.

Afterwards Kalim offers to eat in the cafeteria more often, but (after an awkward interaction with Leona) Jamil insists that he would prefer to make his lunches, so Kalim will need to control his late-night snacking.

We learn that Kalim refuses to eat curry after an incident where Jamil poison-tested some that was intended for him and fell ill, being “bedridden for days on end.” Kalim says that Jamil wasn’t bothered by it, and it he still loves it to this day.

While it is never specified who poisoned Kalim’s curry, Jamil seems to suspect Kalim’s Asim relatives of “treacherous” schemes.

Despite how he has already been poisoned on Kalim’s behalf already Jamil still seems to be acting as Kalim’s poison tester, so "die instead of Kalim" might also be one of his responsibilities?

We see Kalim encourage Jamil to eat curry offered during the school’s Halloween party, but Jamil explains, “Your complete lack of vigilance is exactly why I can’t have time to myself.”

Jamil says that he is “quite familiar” with potions and poisons and that, thanks to his spending three years drilling the procedures into him, even Kalim can brew simple antidotes to perfection.

Kalim says he always carries stomach-soothing potion for emergencies that Jamil has brewed for him.

Jamil also seems to often carry motion sickness medication and has said that he researches toxins.

#Jamil Viper #twisted wonderland #twstfacts #twstjamil #jamilfacts

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tobesolonely · 2 years

Text

a/n: heyyy it’s me everyone lol its been a min, I’m finally trying to get out of my slump so please enjoy this and lmk what you think :)

i posted this sneak peek a while ago lol

word count: 2.6k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was upset with Y/N.

Not by any fault of her own–she was perfect and could do no wrong in Harry’s eyes. She was simply just...busy. So busy with school and work, and although Harry liked to think he was a reasonable man, all the sensibility he possessed went flying out the door whenever it came to Y/N. She made him irrational, quite honestly.

Take right now, for example.

Harry would follow her around all day if he could, but Y/N had the annoying habit of going back to her own place whenever she was overwhelmed and had a lot to get done–claimed that Harry was too distracting, that she wasn’t productive whenever she tried to work at his place because he couldn’t keep his greedy hands to himself.

Y/N refused Harry’s invitation to spend the night with him as they were driving home from dinner, asking timidly if he could take her to her own flat instead of his house. Harry hesitated for a moment longer than he usually would at the stop sign—if he turned right, he’d be heading toward his. If he turned left, he’d soon be merging onto the highway to take y/n home to her place.

Harry had been hoping he’d get the chance to make love to Y/N that night, their schedules finally having lined up for the first time in at least two weeks. But he knew she needed to study. He didn’t want her to be stressed, or even worse, receive a poor grade and have it be his fault.

So he had to come by his own hand last night, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slacked as his sticky release coated the back of his hand, wrist, and abdomen. Harry came almost embarrassingly fast, too; it had been weeks since he had fucked into her, weeks since he went down on her so painstakingly slow that it had tears streaming down her face as she begged for him to, “go faster, please!” All Harry had to do was conjure up a pretty little image of his y/n and he was coming undone not three short minutes later, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

Harry groggily rolls over in bed as he wakes up the next morning, automatically reaching for his phone to see if he missed a call or text from y/n. He used to stay off his phone first thing in the mornings, but that was until he met y/n. She loved texting him good morning, and who was he to not answer?

And she had texted him. In fact, she texted him a mere five minutes ago.

Y/n: Sorry Har, don’t think I can come over this morning. I’m really stressed trying to study. Maybe I can come over for dinner later?

and then in a separate message:

Y/n: Miss you, hunny. :) i love you!

Harry immediately smiles at how sweet his girlfriend is and formulates a response.

Ok, my smart girl. Miss and love you, too. Let me know if I can bring you anything before then. Xx

Harry sets down his phone and lets out a gentle sigh. It’ll take just about every ounce of willpower he has not to show up at y/n’s flat looking like a lost puppy.

Tonight couldn’t come quick enough.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry is needy and bored––mainly needy.

He sleepily rubbed one out in the shower this morning, rutting into his hand while pretending he was taking y/n from behind instead of by himself under the scalding stream of water. After his shower and breakfast, he still found himself to be quite hard. He was coming into his hand again not five minutes after making this realization, but he was still heavy, even after having two orgasms before ten in the morning. Harry decides he’ll see what y/n’s doing.

Hi princess. What are you doing? Can I come over yet :)

Harry adds the smiley face at the end for good measure, knowing y/n usually couldn’t resist the power of one. He immediately sees the three dots appear as she types out her message.

Y/n: i know how you are. not yet!! be patient!!

Harry can’t hold back the overdramatic sigh that escapes. He’s bored, and needy, and misses y/n like crazy!

He just wants to be beside her, near her. He wants to be in her. Harry is currently downstairs watching something on the television (whatever channel y/n had watched last when she was over two days prior, he’s not really paying attention anyway) and all he can think about is her. He wonders if she’s taking stretch breaks and if she’s eaten today.

The only thing that keeps Harry from being in constant contact with her is leaving his phone in a completely separate room while he relaxes elsewhere in the house. Well, that was a few hours ago and he’s been very good–thinks it’ll be okay if he just wants to check in on Y/N and ensure she’s getting on okay.

Harry gets up and allows his feet to carry him to his office, unlocking his desk drawer and eagerly turning over his phone to see if Y/N tried contacting him. His heart skips a beat when he sees he has two missed calls from her and a text that simply said, H :(. He quickly presses the missed call notification and waits for about 4 seconds before she picks up.

“Hi, Har-”

“What’s wrong, pet? Something’s tha’ matter? ‘M sorry I wasn’t near my phone, had to literally lock it away so I wouldn’t bother ya–”

“I’m okay, H. I was just getting kinda frustrated with this stupid paper and wanted to see if you wanted to come over, but it’s okay if you’re busy…” she trails off.

“I’m not busy, puppy, not busy at all. I can be there right now if you need me.”

“Oh, could you? I’m just so tired, H, I really need a break,” she inhales a shaky breath. “I can’t stare at this screen anymore. Think I’m gonna go crazy.”

Harry arrives at Y/N’s house in record time. He may have even ran a few stop signs and sped through some yellow lights, but that’s besides the point. Once he lets himself in, he sees her sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. Her notes and textbook are surrounding her, and there are empty cans of Yerba Mate surrounding her. Harry sighs–he hates when she doesn’t take care of herself.

She glances over her shoulder and gives him a tired smile as she lifts herself from the ground. Harry opens his arms to her and she gratefully slumps into them, humming in contentment as some of the stress dissolves from her body just from her lover's touch.

“How’s the paper going?” Harry pulls away from y/n long enough to give her a quick once over, trying to determine what state she appears to be in. While she seems pretty on edge, she still appeared to be pretty well off. He assumes she’s making good progress on her schoolwork.

“Not bad,” Y/N leans forward into Harry’s embrace again. “I think I need a break.”

“What should we do?” Harry knows y/n doesn’t miss the suggestive lilt in his voice; he doesn’t try to hide it.

“Maybe we can bake cookies or something?”

While that wasn’t the answer Harry was hoping for, he knows baking would reduce Y/N’s stress tremendously. So he putters around her kitchen, retrieving all the ingredients necessary for a quick batch of chocolate chip cookies (if there was one thing about Y/N, it was that she always had the ingredients necessary to make cookies).

In no time, the sweet scent of vanilla is filling their nostrils. Y/N sits beside Harry on her kitchen counter while he leans beside her, waiting for the first batch of cookies in the oven to finish. The silence is comfortable–Y/N scrolls on Tik Tok and Harry watches over her shoulder, letting out a quiet laugh every so often. Harry missed this. He missed her.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, H,” Y/N breaks the silence. “You’re always here when I need you. Love you so much.”

Harry swears his heart swells so immensely it almost hurts him. He nods. “Of course, darling. I’m always here when you need me no matter what it is. S’my job to take care of you, isn’t it?” She doesn't answer him, so Harry nudges her gently and asks again. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“Just wanna make sure my girl is happy. Always.”

“You do! I’m already feeling way less stressed.”

“Know something we can do that’ll help even more with that.”

“You’re very persistent, yanno that?”

Harry lets out a quiet hum at that, changing the subject.

“What have you eaten today?”

Y/N gives him THAT look. That “please don’t be upset with me” look that she mastered so bloody well over the years, so Harry just gives her a look that he’s mastered well over the years, too. That “I could never be upset with you, but geez” look.

“I’ve been so in the zone today that it slipped my mind…feed me?”

Harry lets out a low chuckle at his girlfriend, nodding his head. “Course I’ll feed you. What are you in the mood for?” He’s already walking over to her refrigerator to see what he can make with what she has on hand. To his dismay, it’s nearly empty–a couple of take out boxes, some milk, eggs, and orange juice are the only contents.

“Like I said…I’ve been busy.”

Harry could get upset, scold her and tell her she needs to take better care of herself if not for her sake than at least for his, but he refrains from doing that. Instead he nods, reaching in pocket for his phone. “I’ll just order in. Thai food sound good?”

Y/N’s eyes light up at his suggestion. “Yes! Oh, and can we get those vegetables? Like, two orders of them. They’re so good.”

“Of course we can. What else do you want?”

Harry loved taking care of Y/N. There wasn’t many things in the world that made him feel more loved and special than when he was making his girlfriend’s life easier–and he definitely has the means to make her life easy, so why wouldn’t he?

The food arrives more quickly than the couple anticipated it would and Y/N is grateful for that. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until Harry plated the meal and set it in front of her. She gives him a soft “thank you” before digging in, scarfing down her food. Y/N, who’s usually so chatty during meals, makes no noises aside from a few quiet hums of pleasure.

Once they’re done with dinner, they finally dig into the cookies that Harry made. Harry can’t hold back the blush on his cheeks when Y/N compliments his baking, tell him him they were the best cookies she’s ever had even though she says that every time. Her laptop and notes are still on the floor, untouched since he arrived, and he’s glad she’s not focusing on that anymore. Y/N works so hard, and she’s always so stressed out–a college student is not something that Harry has ever been, but he can’t imagine it’s any fun.

“What do you want now, love? A movie? A bath?”

Y/N gives Harry the biggest smile she’s given him all evening. “A bath sounds heavenly,” her eyes widen. “I just remember I got these new bath bombs I’ve been wanting to try! But I’ve been waiting for you so we can try them together.”

Again, Harry’s heart swells. He had to have the sweetest, most thoughtful girlfriend on the planet. “Let’s go run a bath, then.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry doesn’t realize Y/N’s in on of those moods until his cock is in her hand. She’s very good at hiding how horny she is; Harry is not.

“So this is why you were waiting for me to take a bath with you, huh pet?”

Y/N croons, arm twisted back in a position that can’t be very comfortable while she slowly pumps his length. “Yeah, my master plan.”

Harry leans his head back against the wall. “Feels nice. I don’t think ‘m gonna last that long.”

“That’s okay.”

He wants her to cum too, though. Orgasms make everyone feel better (or at least that’s what Harry firmly believed). “Come on, get on me.”

“I can just do you H, it’s okay–”

Harry’s already gently removing her hand from his cock and places his own hands on her waist. “Come on love, get on me. I jus’ gotta feel you,” Harry’s babbling at this point, his horniness making him not too shameful to beg for her. “I know you need it too, let me make you feel good, love. Please, wanna make you come.”

“Okay, okay!” Y/N loves when Harry gets needy for her, because she usually feels like she’s the one always begging for him, although Harry would disagree. He always needs her. Her ‘okay’ is all Harry needs to lift up her just enough to slip her onto him. Y/N’s breath hitches; it always does when Harry first pushes into her, and he finds it so endearing. Slowly, Harry slides partially out the slams back in, the water around them sloshing onto the floor in his haste.

“Oh, H…”

“That feels nice, doesn’t it?” Harry reaches his hands around to Y/N’s front side, tweaking and pulling gently at her nipples. “Tell me if I’m making you feel good. I wanna hear you. I want everyone in this building to hear you.”

“Fuck, H. Always make me feel so fuckin’ good,” Y/N starts moving on her own volition on his cock and Harry loves when she takes what she needs from him. When she starts moving a little more slowly Harry takes over again, fucking up into her hard and fast. When they went again later, it would be softer but in this moment right now, Harry needs it like this (and he thinks Y/N does too).

Once Y/N breathily warns Harry she’s so close and just needs a few more thrusts, he moves his hand from her breast to her clit and begins rubbing it in quick circles. That’s all it takes for Y/N to explode atop of him, and he’s following shortly behind.

They don’t say much as they come down from their respective highs. Harry pulls out when he feels himself begin to soften and Y/N lets out a quiet whimper; that’s another thing Y/N did after sex that Harry found so endearing.

“Should we get out then? Get cozy and watch a movie?”

Y/N nods so Harry drains the water, hopping out of the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist. He pads to the dryer to grab Y/N’s towel (she always appreciated a warm towel after a bath) and holds it open for her as she climbs out of the tub.

“I’d love that. And I love you, H. Thank you for being here.”

Harry’s heart swells for the gazillionth time that night. He’s really not sure how he got so lucky.

“I’ll always be here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thanks for reading!! Please lemme know what you think :)

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader

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e-munson666 · 1 year

Text

The Art Of Darkness (1)

+Dark!Xavier Thorpe x F!Reader+

Chapter summary: your best friend Xavier starts acting really strange when you start hanging out with a Normie from Jericho.

Warnings ⚠️: 18+ DARK THEMES! DARK XAVIER. Violence, kidnapping, torture, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, blood. characters aged up to 18. I do not condone the things written, fiction is fiction and nothing more. Dark Xavi is YUMMY

🖤Lady Hellfire🖤

Xavier had been your best friend pretty much since the day you arrived at Nevermore. He was quick to take you under his wing and show you all the cool things the school had to offer. He introduced you to all of his friends (who quickly became your friends as well) and the two of you had a weird back and forth flirty thing going on that everyone but you seemed to pick up on.

Everything between two of you was great......until a few weeks ago when you met Tyler at the coffee shop in town and started spending more of your time with him and not Xavier.

Xavier was pissed to say the least. He had claim over you and the THOUGHT everyone knew that. Then this normie comes along and suddenly you didn't have time for him anymore?

"Hey Bunny" Xavier says, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you walked to class.

"Omg! Xavi you scared me!" You chuckled as you playfully smacked his chest. He beamed down at you as you started to blush.

He kissed the top of your head as he lead you inside the classroom, finding a spot for the two of you to sit together.

"Hey, do you wanna come to the shed and draw with me later?" He asked hopefully, sly smile on his face as he spoke.

"Oh, im sorry xavi! I am going to the weathervane to see Tyler and study, but we can tomorrow?" You respond, seeing the immediate change in his demeanor as you mentioned Tyler Galpin.

"Whatever" he huffs, suddenly rising from his seat and exiting the class before it had even began. You sat there confused, and a little sad for the remainder of the period.

Xavier was fuming, pacing back and forth in his shed. He HAD to do something to get your attention away from fucking Tyler Galpin and back onto him, where it belonged. He quickly began formulating a plan to show you where your affections should lie.

He took out his phone, scrolling through the contacts, pressing call when he came across the name he was looking for, Bianca.

"Hey, uh, I don't know if you are busy later, but I was hoping you would maybe want to hang out once I'm done closing?" Tyler asked you, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled sweetly up at him and nodded your head. "Of course Ty! Did you have something in mind?" You asked him, fiddling with the pencil in your hand.

"I was thinking, we could meet at the edge of the forest? There's something really cool i want to show you" He beams down at you seemingly not blinking as he he waited for your response.

You shift in your seat, "in the dark?" You reply, trying not to give away your nervousness.

"Dint worry, its nothing scary, I promise" Tyler said, seeing the uneasy look on your face. He smiled sweetly at you as you nodded again.

"Perfect, meet me by the big oak tree in 20?" He asks, checking his watch.

"Mkay, I'm gonna run across the street and grab a new sketchbook before they close for the night, I'll see you soon Ty" you said, gathering your things. You smile at him one more time before leaving the coffee shop.

Xavier watched you from the ally near the weathervane, seeing you leave and cross the street to the general store.

Not long after, Bianca exited the coffee shop as well, beelining straight for where Xavier was hiding.

"Its done Thorpe" she says bitterly.

"Thank you" he smirks, looking down at her concerned face, "and remember what I said would happen if you tell anyone" he spat

Bianca nodded quickly, and then hurriedly made her way back to the school, and far away from what was about to happen.

You got to the oak tree exactly 20 minutes later, nervously pacing back and forth in the darkness. You heard leaves crunching in the distance and quickly spun around to find no one.

"Hello? Tyler? Is that you?" You said, voice shaking from fear.

Before you knew what was happening a large hand holding a cloth covered your mouth, and an arm encased itself around you, pulling you into the forest as you began to lose consciousness.

Your eyes began to flutter open, initially thinking you were back in your dorm, having dreamt the whole strange encounter in the forest. You tried to prop yourself up when you felt a cuff secured tightly to your right wrist.

You tried to shake yourself back to reality when your vision fully adjusted and you saw where you were. A tiny room, with nothing but a bed and bucket, and a long chain bolted to the wall trailing all the way to you......connected to the restraint on your wrist.

"No no no no no" you squeaked, fear consuming you. You pulled and pulled at the chain, hoping somehow you would be able to get free. You began to panic when you realized just how trapped you were, until you heard a familiar, sweet voice taunting you from a distance.....

"Hello Bunny......."

Please comment to be added to the taglist for this series.

#fanfic #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #dark!xavier #wednesday #xavier x y/n #dark theme #xavier x you #xavier x fem!reader

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