#how devastatingly romantic. is all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzdarlings · 4 months

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omg that sounds so fun!!!! (Sorry if this was quick I have your post notifs on) imma jump on this early!!! can we get “do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” W changbin? 😩😩😩

summary: you are in love with the son of your family's greatest enemy. he sneaks into your room one night after a party.

pairing: seo changbin/reader content info: petite!reader. mentions of past body insecurities. romeo-and-juliet style love affair. sneaking around. gun play that is somehow more romantic than kinky but still kinda kinky. explicit sexual content. word count: 2900 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

You catch his eye across the room.

There are a hundred people between you, bustling in their designer gowns and glittering in their jewels. The hotel ballroom is an incandescent chamber of silver light. The sun has long since set but the party plays on in its excessive splendour, never tiring of itself.

You are tired of it. The glamour of this lifestyle has turned more tedious than not. At the centre of all this majesty is money, and everyone in this room prioritizes their wealth and capital above everything else. They have fought and slandered and killed each other and they will do it all again, but they throw their galas nonetheless. Places to celebrate themselves and their so-called achievements, to flaunt their successes in self-congratulation. Everyone laughs and dances, spinning around the ballroom, sipping their champagne.

You smile and demur, pretending you are having a good time. You sit with your family and only interact with their trusted allies or those who would be.

He is vehemently not included in that.

Seo Changbin.

He is across the room with his family, your family’s greatest enemy. Your father and his father are titans of business and the family rivalry spans generations. It started with your great-grandparents and you are destined to uphold it. You will marry an appropriate man of standing, someone who will expand the empire, someone whose allyship is worthwhile in both the monetary and social strata. You will have children and raise them to take your place, to inherit your name and all the blood and money that comes with it.

Those same expectations are on your enemy. You hold gazes across the sparkling sea of people. You look away first.

You are coerced onto the dance floor by one of your father’s chosen men. You join that sparkling sea. It is always bizarre to brush elbows with these people, knowing very well they would not hesitate to put a bullet in your head under any other circumstance. You catch the sight of a few discreet weapons as you are twirled around the dance floor. Ostensibly, weapons are not allowed inside the gala as fighting is prohibited, but these people always take their precautions.

Your dance partner spins you. You twirl as per the dance, then stumble to a halt because Changbin is standing there. He is dancing with someone too, has them spun out the opposite way. You stand in the middle of the ballroom looking at each other, faces equally stoic.

He is dressed in all black, austere and intimidating. His black hair falls in a sweep across his forehead, just this side of too-long so it obscures his eyes if he tilts his head a certain way. He is always so meticulously hidden in public, nothing but a walking shadow. He is a dark reflection of his family and their grim reputation.

But his jovial laughter is in your mind, his witty quips, his jokester nature. He is devastatingly charming and endlessly humorous.

You would never know just looking at him. Changbin is not the tallest man in the room but he more than compensates with his bulk and power. Pretty much anyone would be big next to you, but you know what your hand looks like when laid against his, how all encompassing the breadth of his big arms feel when they wrap around you.

He does not touch you. He looks. He smirks, like he knows your heart is racing. Then he spins away. Your partner pulls you back.

The dance continues.

You say you are sick and leave the party early. You are escorted back to the house with your usual security flank, sitting in the backseat of your limo with a guard on either side of you. They wear bulletproof gear under their uniform, matching pale blue in the family’s colours, and wearing bulky glasses to shield their eyes. They are all armed to teeth, wearing their holsters and belts. They dwarf you almost comically. They do not speak to you.

When you reach the house, you go straight to your bedrooms. You have three rooms to yourself, each lonely space spilling into the next. You dress in your closet, leaving the gown pooled in a silk mess on the floor. You discard your jewelry and amble to your main room in a satin nightdress and robe.

You almost miss it, the sound so faint, but you swear a gentle knocking comes from your balcony doors. They are still sealed shut. Security did not notice anything remiss upon arrival, but there is a blind spot in the security camera on your balcony. There are no cameras inside your room for privacy purposes. But no one would know that unless you told them.

And you have only told one person.

You approach the balcony doors, wary. You peer into the night, eyes roving the grand expanse of the brightly lit garden and swimming pool. Wind rustles through the leaves of the trees and a security guard is finishing his round.

You step onto your balcony slowly. The security guard can only see you when you lean over. He waves at you before leaving the yard, continuing the rest of his patrol elsewhere. You watch him go.

The world is quiet as it ever is. You can hear the buzz of the pool lights and the tinkling of your wind chimes, little else. You lean against your balcony railing and look over the yard. You weigh the luxury of the estate against its cost. Not for the first time, you ruminate on how it is absolutely not worth it.

You sigh and turn. Then you freeze at what, who, you find.

You mistake him for a security guard for half a second, which nearly gives you a heart attack because they are never on your balcony. But he is just wearing one of their uniforms. You are not sure when he stole it, tonight or previously.

Seo Changbin stands there in the blue uniform shirt and gun holster, winking at you behind bulky glasses. He is pressed against the wall in the solitary blind spot, nodding his head to your balcony door. If you open it a little wider, he can sneak in undetected.

Like he has done a dozen times before.

You feign nonchalance for the camera, humming to yourself as you step into your bedroom. You push your door open all the way, positioning yourself in distracting view of the lens while he sneaks inside. Then you follow and slam the door shut. You both take a curtain and draw them together, meeting in the middle.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say. It is not what you want to say. You want to say, thank god you are here. I missed you so much. But that is an utterly foolish proclamation. You know better. You have always known better.

But the son of your family’s greatest enemy is standing in your bedroom anyway. He looks at you, at where you clutch your robe, at where you wet your lips. He removes the glasses and tosses them aside, as if to study you more closely.

“I shouldn’t,” he says. You cannot tell if it is an agreement or a question.

“No, you shouldn’t,” you say. You take a step back, because every second in his proximity only compels you closer. It is surer than a planet caught in a gravitational pull, threatened to be shattered by the sheer cosmic power of the star holding it in orbit.

He steps with you. When you take another step, he follows. Back and back and back. He feels big in this space. Even though your room is massive, his presence shadows your little world. When your back hits the wall and he looms in front of you, he is all you can see. Nothing else exists beyond him.

“Changbin, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, though you know it is useless to protest your liaison with any logic, because this is a matter of the heart and not mind. That rebellious heart of yours beats faster. “If anyone found you here… we’d both be in so much trouble.”

“I won’t let them hurt you,” he says. He speaks with such easy confidence, like it is a matter of fact and not hope. He says it so certainly that you almost believe him.

“You can’t promise that,” you say.

“Yah, shame on you,” he teases. “You know I always keep my word.”

It is true. Though Changbin has a formidable reputation, it has little basis in actuality. He is a man of strong moral principle. He does not like the fighting and brawling and warring. He does not hurt innocent people, nor does he put civilians at risk for the sake of a stupid business.

And he has treated you with more loving respect than anyone else in your life.

Of course you surrender to him, again and again, sighing now as you lean against the wall and release your robe. It falls open and reveals your little nightdress. His gaze dives down your body, igniting sparks inside you. You were once insecure about your appearance, taking to heart your mother’s admonishments, that you were scrawny and gaunt, nothing but a burden as they struggled to find a match for you.

It is no struggle for Changbin. He curses even though he has seen you a dozen times. He holds your hips, then runs his strong hands up your body so you shiver all over. He cups the back of your head and draws you close, like he intends to kiss you. You are ready for it, eyelids heavy and lips parting.

With his other hand, he reaches for his chest holster. You blink as he slowly draws the gun, as he brings it closer to you. It feels like your whole body turns to liquid heat, heart thundering as he rests the barrel so delicately against your temple.

“See, baby,” he says, “if they find us, they’ll blame me. What was a little thing like you supposed to do, ah? Fight me?”

You are breathing harder, already so hot with anticipation. You gasp when he tugs you closer still, the gun still tapping your temple.

His lips are so close to yours, they almost touch.

“Poor baby,” he says. “She’s so good to her family. It’s not her fault Seo Changbin climbed in her window and fucked her in her little nightdress.” He moves the gun, making your breath catch again. The barrel touches your lips then moves down, down. It brushes a sensitive nipple, then moves lower still. The cool metal brushes your inner thigh under your nightdress and your knees starting shaking, a delicious heat twisting in your belly. “Tsk, tsk,” he says. “No panties. Maybe it’s not my fault completely.”

“We really shouldn’t do this,” you say, but it is still not what you want to say. I want you, I need you, so so badly.

He smiles and lifts the gun again, all the way up to your mouth where he taps your lips.

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” he asks.

It is so funny; Changbin is holding a gun to your lips but you feel more safe than dancing among those people at the party. You trust him so completely, so irrevocably, that you do not feel truly threatened for even a moment. There is something so liberating and joyous in allowing your body to go completely lax, in forgetting all your many grievances for the short but blissful time you have with him. Your heart is so full you could burst.

You kiss the tip of the gun, then smile.

“Well,” you say. “What are you waiting for?”

He tosses the gun onto the bed so he can hold you with both hands when he kisses you. You moan against his lips. His searching hands are careful where he touches you, squeezing and loving. He cups the small curve of your breast in his palm, rubs there until electric desire shoots to every extremity.

You shrug your robe off and he wastes no time gathering you into his arms. He holds you so securely, picking you up with no effort at all. Then you are pressed against the wall with him pressed against you.

“Yes, yes,” you say, gasping, as he kisses down your neck. He hikes you higher, catching you effortlessly, guiding your legs around him as he kisses down to your breasts. He wraps his lips around a nipple through your dress, making you clench your thighs around him, which makes him giggle like the maniacal tease he is.

“You like that,” he says, and tugs your dress down to get his mouth on you properly. He is so good with his tongue. You feel a little giddy, thinking to yourself that it is his true weapon. Fast, precise, teasing you and working you until you are tugging at his head and grinding against him.

“I need you,” you say, breathlessly, “Changbin, Changbin—”

You seldom take your time, given the danger of the situation. With the house empty and both your families occupied, you have time tonight to go a little slower, but you simply cannot wait. You are both accustomed to instant satisfaction when together. Your body feels wrong without him inside it. You need him like a breath of air.

“Please,” you say.

You do not have to beg much. He fiddles with his belt and his zip, then he repositions you. You cover your mouth to catch your squeal when he pushes inside you. He moans into your neck to stifle his own sounds.

“Baby, so good for me,” he murmurs, sounding intoxicated from the silky feel of you, wrapped around him so completely.

You know the feeling. You are incapable of forming sentences, clinging to him desperately as he fucks you steadily against the wall. He holds you with just one arm, the other palm planted flat to the wall, near your head. You clutch his big bicep while your other hand sinks in the hair at his nape. You fuck until he is close, when he carries you to the bed and lays you out.

You lean forward and take him in your mouth, sucking him down until he comes. He bites his wrist to keep his volume down.

You wipe your lips, smiling. Then you sprawl back on the bed, nightdress turned to little more than a sash around your middle. You slide it off completely. Even though he just came, he is already looking you with hungry eyes. He puts a knee on the bed, evidently ready to pounce.

You pick up the gun and point it at him, quirking a playful eyebrow. He blinks at you, surprised, then smiles as well.

“Baby,” he says. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” you reply.

It just makes him laugh. The sound makes your heart gush with sentiment. He looks so handsome and sweet, hair pushed back, a light sheen of sweat on his neck. He is still mostly dressed, tucked back into his pants, but they are open and slung low, his shirt all untucked.

He gazes at you with deep, dark eyes, nothing but affection on his face. He plays your game and strips his shirt off, then he crawls across the bed until he is close enough for you to rest the barrel of the gun against his temple.

“Go on,” you say, nodding.

Truly, his tongue is the greater weapon. The gun does not stand a chance, falling out of your hand, forgotten, as he descends between your legs. You feather his hair through your fingers, then dig into his scalp, riding the motion of his mouth as he licks and sucks and kisses you down there. You come with a shivering sigh, your legs shaking.

He lifts his head and wiggles his eyebrows. “Good?” he asks, to which you can only nod. “Ha-ha,” he says, lightly slapping your thigh. “Of course it was. It’s me.”

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“You are incorrigible,” you say.

He climbs up your body and kisses you on the lips, tasting of you. It makes you whimper, delighted.

“I think you meant to say incredible,” he teases. “That’s okay, I understood you anyway.”

“I’m sure you did,” you say. Because there is a great deal of truth in that statement. You and him are on opposite sides of this ridiculous feud, but you are in exactly the same place. No one understands you better than him.

That understanding is written all over his face. He smiles tenderly, cupping your cheek in his hand. His next kiss is the definition of romance itself, sweet and long, enough to make you swoon.

“How much time do you think we have?” you ask.

“Not much,” he answers, then kisses you again. “Don’t think about it now. It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

“I know,” you say. You wrap your arms around each other and hold tight, kissing again while you can. The truth is, neither of you is in any position to dictate your fate. But he kisses you like that does not matter, with no past and no tomorrow on the horizon. You take control of this moment and consider it a happy ending for as long as you can.

#seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x you #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #valentinesdaystories #anonymous request

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momotonescreaming · 8 months

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Magic's been restricted in Hawkins for decades. Not by any law, or enforcement of the city guard, but by the fearful nature of man. Rumours of curses and spells, fear of the unknown - it has people scared.

And scared people lash out.

So people stopped doing magic in Hawkins. People stopped doing magic visibly, in Hawkins. They keep it behind closed doors, locked up tight.

Eddie dabbles in it. Small things. Good luck charms, cleaning spells, minor wards to keep the rain from leaking through the thatched roof of his and Wayne's hut. Nothing big, just some things he got passed down from his uncle, from his family way down south. He's thought about more, seeing how far his magic can extend - but he's not the witch, the demon that people think he is.

He doubts that the townsfolk have anything to base their suspicions on. They just don't like him or the Munson name. Him and Wayne are the ones who get the blame, but he knows there's powerful players in Hawkins. Powerful magic that's been at work a long, long time.

Eddie might not be the best mage, the best witch, but he's always been good at feeling magic.

And there's a small courtyard on the outskirts of town that reeks of magic. The strong shit too, been there for a very long time, put down by very powerful people.

Other people don't notice, it's a good courting spot - or so people say. Large trees, bushes covered in flowers, a nice cobbled path, with a large fountain in the middle. It's picturesque, romantic. And atop the fountain, is a statue.

A statue of a boy, or a young man, or however you want to put it. He's handsome, devastatingly so, with a square jaw and muscled arms. A wreath of laurels resting atop his perfectly swooped hair, and an elegant toga like robe draped across his body.

He's posed delicately, but in a way that does not hide his masculinity.

The garden always perfectly kept, always tidy, never any vermin, and no one is ever seen maintaining it. The statue never cracks, never fades, never dirties. He is always perfectly encapsulated in marble. Shining white.

Eddie is a little bit obsessed. There's not a lot to do in Hawkins, and the magic in the courtyard is alluring. It's tricky, encircled and entwined into itself - into the world around it. It's a puzzle, and Eddie wants to figure it out.

So he goes to the courtyard when he knows no one else will be there, and he makes sure to bring a notebook. Write down what he sees, what he feels.

He can feel the sun on his shoulders, the breeze gently ruffling his hair, the birds singing in the trees. Bees flitting from flower to flower, there's a stream trickling somewhere near.

The statue shines in the middle, drawing the eye.

It's perfect. Almost too perfect. Designed by man, and not by nature, perfect.

So Eddie pulls off his boots, rolls up his trousers, and wades into the fountain. Standing on the wishing coins people have tossed in. But he ignores them, of course, and heads to the statue. The more he concentrates, the closer he gets, the more he can tell that this, him, is the centre of all the magic.

The perfect statue.

Eddie can see the nailbeds in his fingers, the moles that dot his skin, the pores on his face, the lashes on his eyes. Perfect. He gets even closer, takes a deep breath, and focuses his magic. The more he looks, the more he listens, the more Eddie can feel the magic encircling the courtyard.

He swears he can hear a heart beating inside the statue's chest.

#Stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #fantasy au #steve is cursed to be a statue au #if that wasn't clear #this idea has possessed me i wrote this in a fugue state #momo.txt #My Writing

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punkshort · 7 months

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18+ account - minors do not interact warnings/tags included on each individual work.

No use of Y/N in anything.

I'm open to requests but it might take a few weeks.

Thank you for reading ❤️

Series

The Way We Were [complete] : You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. When the outbreak happens, you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Look What We've Become [sequel to TWWW - complete] : You are tasked with taking a young girl back to her family while trying to salvage your relationship with Joel after certain events cause the biggest strain either of you have ever had to face.

I'll Be Home For Christmas [complete, but on-going updates] Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Somewhere to Run [complete] : You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.

I Know Who You Are [complete]: A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

Roommates [in progress]: Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, things get... complicated.

Evergreen [coming soon]: Two unlikely strangers meet and bond over a shared trauma. But what happens when the lines unexpectedly blur and they're both overcome with guilt? Will they allow themselves to love again, or will they choose to drown in their grief?

Swept Away [coming soon]: Detached, closed off, and hardened by failed relationships (romantic and otherwise), hotel mogul Joel Miller is looking to expand his empire to an exclusive tropical island off the coast of Fiji. The problem is, he's not the only one looking to stake his claim in the tropics. The owner of the island, a family man first and foremost, invites all the bidders to the island for a month long retreat to help him decide which mogul will be crowned the winner. And to make himself look more appealing, Joel hires you to accompany him as his significant other. But it's strictly business... right?

One-Shots/Requests

I hate when you're right : After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him to leave Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Have A Good Night: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.

Night Shift: It was a relatively quiet night in the emergency room until a handsome contractor gets admitted and adds some excitement to your life.

Hard to Handle: One year after Joel cheats on you and gets someone else pregnant, you run into him for the first time.

Collections

Hitman [on-going]: Fresh on the heels of a breakup, you move into a new apartment in a shady part of town. When a mysterious man breaks in, insisting he knew the prior tenant and needs to recover something left behind, you get caught up in a whirlwind of danger and attraction.

One-Shots

Hot Chocolate [coming soon]: You lead a quiet, boring life in a podunk town, but when a certain secret agent stumbles into your world needing your help to catch a criminal at the local carnival, your quiet little life changes forever.

credit to @saradika-graphics for the dividers

Headers were made on canva by myself

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yostresswritinggirl · 2 years

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Chase the Mirage

pairing -> Cyno x Adventurer!Reader x Tighnari; poly

word count -> 2.4k+ words

themes -> fluff, established relationship, scenarios and headcanons

(masterlist) (next) Two Akademiya giants, infatuated and hooked to a simple adventurer from the Adventurer's Guild. Absurd as it may seem, for Cyno and Tighnari, their lover is simply lovable like that.

Cyno and Tighnari.

Two prominent names in the Akademiya and Sumeru as a whole, regarded almost in a legendary manner.

When gossipers so willing to waste time on talking about other people's lives speak about the two's romance divinations, they always guessed that they would either be with someone who has the same academic prestige or none at all.

It was only when facts surfaced did they realize that the former was accurate, if only for half of it, at least. Never would they have imagined that THAT person from the Adventurer's Guild, the one adventurer practically glued to the hip with how they frequently take on their commissions, would be romantically involved with - not one - but BOTH of them!

Scary Serious Cyno and Strict Tighnari, and in between is some insignificant, unremarkable, UNEDUCATE-

"I strongly advise you keep that mouth shut." The table of scholars shied away from the polearm embedded in the table in front of them.

"If not for my sharp ears, I would have thought you lot were talking about yourselves," a second voice spoke followed by a hand laying upon the shoulder of the gossiper, grip tightening after every emphasized word. "Insignificant. Unremarkable. Uneducated. Amurta scholars too? What a disappointing batch you are."

Ungloved hands came into view to retrieve the polearm with barely any difficulty, and those who dared raise their heads were swiftly met with a fiery glare, burning them like the sinners they are. Even if not on paper, they felt like they had to atone for something far greater than they anticipated.

"You're lucky that today's a vacation day." A pause. "Forget it, not even worth the joke, what you said was already laughable."

"No need, they've already made a fool of themselves anyways. Besides, we have places to be." And their footsteps echoed throughout the House of Daena as they left, catching the last bits of their conversation before the double doors shut close behind them.

"The joke I thought up in the moment was quite good though."

"I don't want to hear it."

It was true that they were lucky that day, a blessing to have survived, but the rest of the week was devastatingly horrible. Numerous matras catching their gazes, getting banned from Pardis Dhyai seminars that were already as exclusive as they can be; they were more on edge that week compared to the weeks they had an important exam on. And so from one word of mouth to the next, an unofficial rule became sacred.

No matter how absurd it may seem - Cyno, Tighnari, and your relationship, is no laughing matter.

And archons forbid if you were the one to overhear such things. Punishment is always guaranteed when your feelings are hurt.

About Their Worries:

Despite their trust in your capabilities, being an adventurer still puts you in a significant amount of danger no matter how seasoned you are with the craft. At the start, they would coax you to train your combat skills with them, even urging you to practice with their weapons - even if it's not your preferred armament.

There would be a clearing in the forest where you practice, usually with Collei when she feels that her bow skills are lacking. Tighnari and Cyno were content on watching or talking on the side in the beginning, letting you and Collei learn by yourselves, helping each other, etc.

But when you managed to somehow shoot yourself on the foot, none of them trusted you to be alone with a bow ever since.

At times when you do end up getting injured, they'll be doting as they are scolding, genuinely worried for you.

But despite being a simple human, you're also quick to dispel their worries, always rising up every time you fall and assuring them that it's not the end of the world.

There's a worry in their eyes that you can't quite place and they can't quite word, but no matter the doubts festering in their mind, you always find a way to make them smile with your own. "I guess I just used up all my luck by having two magnificent men as my boyfriends, I can't really complain!"

They'll shake their head in exasperation but with a fond smile on their face. On the rare occasions that things did get too dire, you just let them do their thing.

Let them care for you, let them worry about you, let them spend what little free time they have with you; anything to appease them until they're confident that something like that won't happen again.

About Commissions:

Yet even when they had permitted you to go back to your commissions, there's still a bit of their influence hanging over your shoulder.

Like how suddenly all the available commissions are tame in comparison to the ones you dealt with prior to getting injured, how Katheryne kept exclaiming that there are no missions outside of Sumeru available at the time, or how Kamal won't look you in the eye when you realized your usual commissions are now of a lower rank than what you're capable of.

Their scheming became much more apparent when a special commission opened up that specifically requests your assistance.

"They need an extra set of hands to help prepare for a seminar in Pardis Dhyai today."

"Probably just to doll up the place. Who should I approach there, the contact?"

"Yes, it's - " Katheryne starts on auto-pilot, only to halt her own words and shut her mouth in obvious hesitance. That was one of the oddities of today. "It's not specified but I'm sure you can just ask around." You nodded slowly with a skeptical stare, that of which the receptionist ignored by turning to the shelf behind her.

It was only when you saw an uncharacteristically smiley Tighnari standing by the pathway to the site did all the weirdness of today finally click into place. At the sight of your unamused stare, his toothy smile became more smug. "It's nice to see you again, dearest." Followed by him ruffling your hair.

"Tighnari, I was with you and Cyno yesterday." A pause. "Is there even a seminar - "

"But of course! I'm not that foolish to lie to you, now come on, we have hundreds of chairs to lay out." They've done this a million times by now. You know, oh you know for sure that they didn't really need an extra hand to set things up - but when your Forest Watcher took your hand and guided you inside, excitedly talking about today's lecture (where he's the speaker, mind you!), you simply squeezed his hand and let him be.

The rest of your day was expertly derailed after Tighnari convinced you to stay in the duration of the seminar, unable to refuse and as such, your other commissions had to be done the next day. At least the celebration feast for a job well done that day was delicious...

Shortly after hearing about this stunt, your other boyfriend thought it was a good idea to replicate it!

Cyno was ever so thankful that you were gullible when it comes to his advances.

"Save your energy, it's a long walk back. If you have any final words, save them for judgment day."

The terrified scholar had lost all will to talk back from the terrifying glare the General Mahamatra had upon looking down at him, frozen in fear as his hands gripped the burning sand below. Sensing that he wasn't getting up anytime soon, Cyno was about to speak again when a groan from behind took their attention.

"Archooons, you ran off so far, I don't think I can walk back that far again," you whined as you plopped your ass on the sand in front of the scholar. "Can we take a quick break? I'm already out of water... Hey, do you have any water left?"

The shift in tone and personality between you two was... Jarring. Still frozen but not out of fear, the scholar dumbly blinked at your stretching form, looking at him expectantly.

Only when the General stepped close to retrieve his staff did he finally snap out of his trance, looking up to see a stern glare still pointed at him, which flicked over to you for a second to send the message. Right, you asked for water. "I-I think I still have some, yes!" His shaky hands made quick work to retrieve his waterskin, uncapping it for you before handing it over.

"Ahh, you're a blessing in disguise! Thank you!" Graciously taking the waterskin, you were about to drink when Cyno suddenly snatched it out of your hand, earning a 'hey!' from his robbery. But instead of taking the water for himself, the white-haired man simply wiped inside and around the mouth of the waterskin with a spare cloth before handing it back to you.

The reprimanded scholar lived to tell the tale of the sight of the General Mahamatra giving his lover a piggyback ride through the desert, while you wore his headdress to cover your overheating brain. Had it not been for the consequences he faced that day, the scholar would have simply thought that the whole ordeal was a hallucination. If there were doubts about the authenticity of your relationship, that tale gradually diminished the doubters.

About Adventuring:

Of course, there would still be times where their stunts can't keep you near for too long, like commissions outside of Sumeru or simply your desire to go to the other regions.

There's a whole world out there, wondrous and colorful, it's just a shame that neither of them had the free time to see it.

But they know their boundaries and they respect your desires, after all, you're still an adventurer first and foremost. Adventure is in your heart, they only came after and squeezed themselves in. It was your duty as an adventurer that brought you to them and they are grateful for that.

So to stall for time a little bit and show you just how much they would miss you, Cyno and Tighnari usually packs your bag for you on these occasions. Their own little touch reminding you of them even through the simplest of things:

Tighnari always made sure that you have a small medicine kit in your person at all times, little vials filled with organic medicine he prepped himself if you were to fall ill or injure yourself on your journey, where he wouldn't be able to tend to you. There's a mini handbook for it too, explaining the contents, its use, application and how frequent you can use it.

By this time, you must have remembered these homemade medicine by heart already, what with Tighnari lecturing you about them as frequently as he could. But the adorable notes together with the pressed flowers always had you smiling whenever you take it out.

There would also be a random flower well-preserved and sneakily tucked in to your bag, just to drive home how much he misses you and wants you to miss Sumeru enough to come back to them. Make sure to keep the flower safe and bring it back to him when you come back, the smile you receive when you ask him to make it into a bookmark is out of this world.

Tighnari also makes sure you bring enough rations to last you until you reach the next town, filling up your flask with cold water so you don't dehydrate. Sometimes, there'll be warm pita pockets in your bag freshly made by Collei just for you! Just make sure to eat them immediately or else it'll spoil in your bag.

Cyno, he... Well, there's a joke book there, what else do you expect? Well not exactly, more like a joke notepad that you're supposed to read strictly once a day! This is one of the reasons why your lover always asks the exact days that you'll be gone, and makes sure to prepare a joke a day for you to read, like a daily gospel of some sorts.

He wants to make you laugh even when he's not there, and so he makes sure to fill the pad with good material that will surely make you smile. However, unlike his usual jokes, these ones were more loving and yearning. Conveying the underlying desperation of him missing you as the days go by:

"If you were a criminal, I wouldn't have let you go." "You're going to Inazuma, right? Make sure to bring back some snacks, I've been laven-der melons from there." "I love you to the moon and back... But a shorter journey would be preferable."

It's very apparent to everyone around them that you're out of Sumeru for a while - not just because you're obviously not there, but with how they both are around each other more often than not.

Tighnari is quick to be irate, and the General tends to bury himself with Matra work, those days were hell for even minor offenders in the Akademiya. Tense air follows them like a Withering Zone manifests wherever they walk, and it is always a blessing whenever you're back home.

A few steps away from the Akademiya, Tighnari's ears straightened up and twitched suddenly, followed by Cyno's nose wrinkling in recognition. These footsteps and scent -

"Cyno! Tighnari!" The two in question cringed when you stumbled on your own two feet from running, clearly exhausted from the heavy gasps leaving your lungs. But you still made it over to them, hair in disarray and adventurer's uniform skewed here and there, with that smile they've been missing for a month now. "I'm back!"

Chuckling to themselves, Tighnari took the heavy bag off of you while Cyno made it his mission to pat your hair down. "How did your trip go?" And with each hand in their own, the three of you walked out of the city side-by-side, serious Cyno and strict Tighnari freely smiling as they listen to you excitedly rant about your adventure.

Two Sumeru big shots in love with a significant, remarkable, lovable adventurer.

No doubt about it.

I almost went wild and made a whole ass series for this. But no, I must not tempt fate. But damn, this fic is not enough to hold all my thoughts for this.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #gender neutral #exile.flower #genshin impact fluff #Sumeru Arc #genshin impact #cyno #tighnari #chase the mirage

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hyukalyptus · 9 months

Text

focus on me — yeonjun x fem!reader | besties to lovers. NSFW/MDNI!

cw. reader has a vagina/clit, cunnilingus, hair pulling, pet names (love, babe, baby), nipple play, kinda emotional and sensual (not angsty), kinda cringe but whatever, yeonjun kinda guides reader lol notes. my first lil fic on my new blog! for those of you finding this in the tags, this is bibibinnie! i had to make a new blog, but it's me! it probably would've made more sense for my first post back to be kai related but oh well, i'll get em next time. anyway- this is supposed to be a really slow, sensual, romantic-ish smut. i hope y'all like it. smut under cut! wc. 1.2K

“I’m nervous…” you trail off, closing your legs, but his hand still caresses your hip.

“Love—” he says, his smile dropping at the sight of the awkward expression on your face. “Can I call you that?” You nod, ensuring to smile because, well, the nickname does warm your tummy. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to though.”

Your name falls out of his mouth in a whisper, “I’m not doing anything unless you’re one hundred percent sure.” It was a fair point. You’ve been best friends for forever and feelings, while they grew over time, all seemed to make themselves known so suddenly this evening during a typical friend date.

“Yeonjun,” you sit up straight, using your elbows for support. “I’m one thousand percent sure. It’s just—I’m nervous. You know I’m shy…and it’s a lot of pressure—”

“If you feel like I’m pressuring you, then I don’t—”

“Nonono, you’re not pressuring me at all,” you say, relief written all over his face. “It’s just a lot of pressure to…y’know…make you feel good too.”

“Oh,” he chuckles. “I will. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I was going down on you, love. I just wanna taste you—actually, I wanna make you feel good. That’s all I care about.” Looking down at him, he has the cutest smile on his face and you can’t help but return the smile back. “Yeah?”

“Listen to me, okay?” You nod. “I want you to really feel me.” Ghosts of fingertips brush against the inside of your thighs. The most delicate of kisses placed right at the top of your thighs. “Close your eyes,” he says. Following his instructions, you let your lids fall closed, laying your head down on your pillow. “And just feel me, baby.”

The smallest prod at your wet center makes your heart race, waking your entire body up, your pussy clenching around his fingertip. He’s simply gathering your wetness to softly slide between your lips. Just barely missing your clit, your hips roll with his finger.

When he finally does rub against your clit, though, you gasp, reaching for his hair, but, “No,” he halts. “Don’t touch me. Feel me. Feel how I’m making you feel.”

“But—” your chest rises and falls with your breaths.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Arms at your sides.” Your body rolls again. “Feel it all in your body. Pay attention to your toes…your fingertips…your chest…everything.”

Woah. This is definitely something new for you—someone so focused on your pleasure and your pleasure alone. And it’s magical to say the least.

Something new finds its way to your clit—his tongue. He glides it devastatingly slow across you and you gasp again, earning a nice low groan from him. “Feel good?” You nod. He’s talking to you, tongue replaced by his thumb. “Control your body. Take deep breaths, focus on me, love.”

“Fuck, Yeonjun…” is really all you can make out, drawing a chuckle from him.

“Feel the difference between this…” he flicks his tongue over your clit delicately and slowly, sending shivers down your spine. “And this—” then he glides his wet lips over your sensitive bud, a completely new feeling to you, forcing you to buck your hips up into his mouth. “Breathe,” he whispers before gently sucking, releasing you with a wet pop.

This is just so…you don’t know what to think. He’s making you pay attention, making you feel everything, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. The way your muscles react to his movements, how heavy you’re breathing, the spinning in your head.

“I feel those goosebumps,” he chuckles, his tongue continuously flicking your clit while his hands graze your bare thighs. “Feel how the air feels on your skin.” You’re noticing more and more things—you can feel the hardness of your nipples without touching them, sweat dampening your back, his nails barely digging into your squishy thighs. “God, you’re delicious.”

Your pussy flutters with his words. And for a moment, his tactic changes—he’s just tasting for himself for a bit. It’s no longer slow and delicate, it’s deep and intense. But when your fingers find his hair, it wakes him back up and he slows back down. And it’s absolutely delicious.

Everything is heightened—you’re hyper aware of everything—how your toes barely wiggle, your pussy barely fluttering, how trapped your tits feel in your bra.

“Stop—” you blurt and he stops immediately, asking what’s wrong with a worried face. “Sorry, I just need to take my bra off,” you chuckle with an eye roll before quickly slipping it off from under your shirt, keeping them covered by your thin t-shirt. “Continue.” He’s hesitant, eying you up and down.

“Can I?” He asks, tilting his head toward your chest; you answer with a simple nod. He keeps his fingertips on your clit, continuing to rub gentle circles as he delicately lifts your shirt past your tits. And his reaction is everything. Eyebrows stitched together in relief, mouth dropping open at how gorgeous you are, a hungry look on his face. But he follows his own advice. He controls himself, taking deep breaths before placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin under your breast, finishing it off with some licks. “Keep your eyes closed, love.”

You nod, letting your head fall back again, taking deep breaths.

“Feel this?” The tip of his tongue finally glides over your hard nipple and you gasp again, rolling your body. He flicks and sucks your nipples so fucking well. And— “Can I bite them a little?” Nodding furiously, you can’t wait to feel that little sting of his teeth. And oh does it feel amazing. Two fingers inside of you, his thumb on your clit, tongue and teeth on your nipples.

“Yeonjun—” your breath is heavy. “I’m gonna cum.” He halts.

“Breathe,” he whispers, lips peppering kisses all over your tummy as he makes his way back down. “Hold it for a bit. Don’t focus on cumming,” he places another wet kiss to your inner thigh. “Focus on feeling me.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Babe, I want you to focus on feeling your orgasm,” he says, making you chuckle.

“Of course I’ll feel it.”

“Just pay closer attention to how it feels this time.” Switching positions of his tongue and thumb, he wanted to make sure you came in his mouth but your nipples weren’t ignored. And you can hardly bear it. Everything simply feels incredible and you’ve never been made so aware of your body before.

The wetness of his tongue flicking your clit. The length of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt. The deliciousness of his thumb and finger playing with your nipple.

“Jjun, please—” He knows what you’re asking. And he’s finally nodding, letting you let yourself go, cumming hard against his mouth. Your clit pulsates against your tongue, your back arches with bliss and euphoria, and your moans are the prettiest he’s ever heard in his life.

And you listened to his instructions. You took the time to feel every last bit of your orgasm and you noticed things you’d never noticed before…wiggling toes, contracting muscles, breathy sighs.

It takes a bit for you to come to your senses after coming down from your high, but you’re greeted with the smuggest smile on his face.

“Fuck.”

“Damn, you’re so fucking hot when you cum.”

#hp's writing 🪲#yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun fic #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun ff #txt fic #txt fanfic #txt ff #fem!reader #kpop fic #kpop ff #kpop fanfic

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

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Propaganda

Marie Doro (Lost and Won)—I had never heard of this woman before the prelims a couple of weeks ago, but oh my GOD I have not been able to stop thinking about her since. Look at her!! She was often typecast as delicate, fragile types on stage and screen, but in real life she was "intelligent, an expert on Shakespeare and Elizabethan poetry, and possessed a penetrating humor and a sometimes acid wit"(!!!!) and known for bringing vibrancy and intelligence to all of her roles. Unfortunately most of her films have been lost, but she was considered a highly sought-after lead actress through the '20s, at which point she retired from acting. In her later years, she went back to school, taking university courses in theology, physics, metaphysics, and philosophy. She was also reportedly close friends with Maude Adams and Mercedes de Acosta, both known for their lesbian relationships, which has led some (me) (but also others) to speculate that she may have been lesbian or bi herself. She has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame! She was Charlie Chaplin's first love! She was so beautiful??? I want her to recite poetry for me while we picnic in the park.

Pina Menichelli (The Fire, Padrone delle Ferriere)—ITALIAN SILENT MOVIE STAR!!! SHES HOT!!!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman. (remember that our poll era starts in 1910, so please don't use propaganda from before that date.)

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Marie Doro:

Unfortunately nearly all of Marie Doro’s movies are lost, and I don’t know a lot about her, but as soon as I came across Marie for the first time, I fell in love with her. The early Edwardian era is my favourite decade for fashion, and Marie wears it all so well! In every photo she looks like an angel made out of porcelain, too perfect to be real. She was Charlie Chaplin’s first love, and he remained in love with her for years after their first encounter, and let’s be honest, who can blame him? He said about her in his biography:

‘She was so devastatingly beautiful that I resented her. I resented her delicate, pouting lips, her regular white teeth, her adorable chin, her raven hair and dark brown eyes. But, oh God, she was beautiful! It was love at first sight. At the theatre I would time the moment that she left her dressing room so as to meet her on the stairs and gulp 'good-evening.' When I met Marie Doro again, it was like the second act of a romantic play. After we were introduced I said: 'But we've met before. You broke my heart. I was silently in love with you.' Marie, looking as beautiful as ever, said: “How thrilling”.

Doro retired from filmmaking in the 1920s and became very reclusive after that, so unfortunately there’s hardly any footage of her to watch. I feel sad that more people don’t know who Marie Doro is, because she’s very important to me.

Linked gifset to see Marie in action

Pina Menicelli:

#pina menicelli #marie doro #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #i think i hauve covid

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ninaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa · 2 months

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Champagne problems

Charles Leclerc x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:language, drinking, crying, just a lot of sadness tbh..

————————

The season has come to an end, I couldn’t be more relieved. Charles won his third championship, i couldn’t be more relieved about that either.

Its been a tough couple of years for him, he’s been extremely busy. This year more than ever.. we started dating 6 years ago. From the start we had so many plans, so many things we were excited for. Those ideas of relaxing and spending long days in the sun together vanished into thin air the second he promised his father that he would sign with Ferarri. I don’t blame him, how could I ?

Charles was a man who made a promise to his passed father, it would be extremely selfish of me to bring it up. I honestly didn’t feel the need to, my life was perfect in every way. Charles was everything and more. He was caring, compassionate, funny, respectful and extremely romantic.

That brings us to today, the end of the season party. It was quite a formal gathering. With bejeweled cocktail dresses and champagne flowing.

Me and Charles walked in hand-in-hand. He was being nicer than normal, if even possible. We greeted a bunch of people, all of them congratulating Charles with huge smiles and compliments.

I settle down on a wooden chair with a white cushion, my little black dress with gold detailing working perfectly with the colour theme of the party. Carmen and Kika sit next to me, both of them staring at their boyfriends with big smiles. I take a moment to look around the boat, bustling crowds filled the deck, all of them crowding around Charles. He had won the Championship this year. It was his third, for the third year in a row. He had promised me we would start to settle after he reached his goal. We never did, always on the move and always making promises we couldn’t keep.

———— 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗼

“Charles you did not !” I scream, my hands covering my tear filled face. The man I would do anything for stood with a proud posture and a devastatingly beautiful smile on his face. I practically sprinted into his arms, his flannel riding up on my body and exposing my lace underwear.

Charles took me to his family’s lake house, the season was at its end and Ferarri was second on the leaderboard. He had decided to steer clear of the chaos and rather taken me away for a little vacation before Christmas with his family in December. I was over the moon at the thought of spending the whole of November in the cabin with him. What I was not expecting was him buying me a Chevy convertible. It was my dream car, I had brought it up a few times, all black with red leather seats. It was gorgeous, the interior being Ferarri red and the exterior being as black as the night sky. “Thank you Charles, I love it.” I say with a huge smile on my lips, staring deeply into his eyes, I only see my future.

“I love you, Y/n.”

————𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆

My mind goes foggy with all the memories of what we had, I almost don’t realize that Kika was tapping my leg. I blink a few times and smile at the stunning woman in front of me. “Y/n, are you alright? You look a little tense.” Kika was an amazing friend and I appreciated her throughout the years. I look down at her hand on my leg, her diamond ring glistened in the flashing lights of the yacht. Her and Pierre were engaged, the two being absolutely perfect for each other. “Yes, I am. Just excited to go home, is that bad ?” I was happy for Charles, but I was exhausted with this whole thing. I was with him every step of the way and I wasn’t complaining. I loved Charles, more than I have ever loved anyone, I gave up everything for him. My job, my friends back home, my family, in all honesty I gave up my whole life to be by his side. I regret it now, the guilt of leaving everyone and the job I had such a passion for, it was catching up to me. I did not matter beyond Charles and his social bubble. I made new friends and I had everything I could want. but it was all so bittersweet.

“Y/n!” I snap back into reality once more. “Fuck , i’m sorry Kika, I should probably go freshen up.” She gives me a sympathetic look, offering to go with me before I turn her down and make my way to the bathroom. I use the one by the master bedroom, as I know there would not be anyone. This isn’t my first time breaking down on this yacht. It’s actually been a tradition for the last three years. Sulking in the bathroom, my mascara smudged onto my inflamed cheeks. It happens every damn year.

This wasn’t what I wanted, nor was it what I deserved. I was stuck in a loop of race after race and party after party. Charles was a natural, this was his favorite way to pass the time. Noting else really mattered all that much. Except me, i guess. He showed me love and care that I have never experienced before. Even with the back lash i received daily. And not only from fans and supporters, but from friends and family members too. His close family and I were in a verg good place. His mum adored me and his brother and I got along very well. I felt comfortable and loved around them. It was the distant relatives and friends that had their opinions. It never bothered Charles, so much so that he didn’t even think to check if it maybe bothered me. It did, a tremendous amount, actually. But I was stuck in the same loop, for I don’t know how long. I couldn’t leave, but I couldn’t bare the thought of this routine going on for decades. My chevy has stood in a private parking garage for the last three years now, only been driven once when I took Charles along with me to pack up my dorm at med school, quitting that year and deciding to move in with Charles. I would have been a doctor by now, a surgeon actually.

I hear a bottle pop and have no doubt in my mind it’s the bottle of Champagne Charles had brought. I clean myself up and walk out of the bathroom, my tears dried and my hart heavy. As I turn the corner I run into Kika who looks like she’s waiting for me. “Y/n, what’s going on?” She has a very concerned look on her face, I smile at that, appreciating how much she cares. Her hand is once again gripping onto me, her ring taking my attention. “You think he’s going to?” she whispers, a slight frown on her face. That confused me, I thought she would be excited at the idea of me and Charles getting married. I’m not even sure I was. “I don’t kn- ”

“Y/n !” I look over Kika’s shoulder to see Charles on his way over. “I’ve been looking all over for you, where have you been love ?” He exclaims gently, his hand in my lower waist. I instantly feel safe in his embrace, like the world stopped for a second and allowed me to take a deep breath. Kika squeezed my arms and walked over to her fiancé. “Sorry, I was with Kika.” I say hazy. I really needed to get my shit together.

“no need to apologize. Cmon, Arthur wants to do shots.”

I was a few drinks deep when the music switched to a slow song, Charles immediately found me, his arms wrapping around my waist. his head rests gently against the side of my temple, the same temple that was pounding and messing with my ability to stay in the present. “I love you so fucking much Y/n. You do know that right?” Charles pours his heart out. I dropped his hand that was so tightly held in mine. I pinch my eyes shut, finding Pascal looking at me with sorrow filled eyes. I was so fucking confused why people kept looking at me like that.

So i chose to ignore it, I leaned back, looking into Charles’s captivating eyes. “I do, I love you more than anything Charlie.” I smile at him. He kisses me, the kiss is passionate and soft. It almost felt as if I would never see him again. When my eyes opened I looked around and saw that it was only me and Charles left on the dance floor, everyone gathered around us. I frown, looking back at Pascal and Kika they both have worried expressions on their faces, Arthur is taking back glass after glass, with the same panicked expression on his face. But he’s not looking at me, he’s looking behind me. I turn around to be met with the Lorenzo on the other side of the crowd. His expression also mirroring the rest. Fingertips graze my leg and I look down to a hopeful Charles with his mother’s ring in his hands. The world stops, not to give me a deep breath, but to suffocate me. I felt breathless and light headed. It was dead silent, the only sound being Arthur putting the now empty bottle of Dom Perignon on the glass table.

“Y/n you are everything. I have never in my whole life been this inlove, nor have I ever imagined an angel like you to ever grace me with your presence. I cannot imagine myself without yo- ”

“Charles.” I whisper, my breath caught in my throat and my eyes watering. Everything burned, the lights the feeling of his fingers still gripping my leg, the sting in my heart.

“Y/n let me finish, baby. It would be an honor to live up to this speech every day. So if I could just finish it?” He smiles at me. Down on one knee and love circulating in both eyes.

“Charles I-” I choke on my words. “Okay I understand my love, this is a big thing, I’ll skip my shitty speech for now.” I wanted to say something but I felt as if i was going to fall faint right here and die. “Y/n I have loved you for a long time now, and I intend to do so until I die.”

“Will you marry me?”

Complete and utter silence, throughout the whole boat, nobody made a sound. The problem was, I didn’t either.

Charles looked at me with years and years of adoration and love and my heart broke a little more every second I stood still.

“No.” I whisper.

Gasps all around the room, it’s all I could hear. Kika let out a big sigh and Pascal let out a big sob. I could hear curse words being thrown and Charles’s manager saying how I could have been such a lovely bride. I next hear Carlos reply “what a shame she’s fucked in the head.”

“Fuck. I- I’m sorry, I can’t.” I sigh and sob at the same time, hyperventilating almost. Charles dropped the ring out of shock, and I could see his heart was also on the ground, although it was shattered.

I turn away in a complete state and rush towards the street. Quickly climbing into a cab and going home. I pack all the things I could need for a few days before taking off on the next train to God knows where. The train is silent and not a single person is awake. I look around the train, my phone ringing uncontrollably in my hand.

I take a seat next to an elderly woman, her window wide open. My phone goes through that same window about gen second later. As do all my worries. My heart has never hurt this much, but I have never in my life felt a weight quite this big being lifted off my shoulders.

I open my leather wallet and look at the picture of Charles tucked on the inside. That too goes out of the window.

••••••••

hope you enjoyed!

there won’t be a part 2 unless this story really takes off, but I doubt it ?

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 !!!!

#charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #chatles leclerc imagines #imagines #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #formula 1 #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #pierre gasly #max verstappen #kika gomes #yacht girl #lando norris #f1 fic #ferarri

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 8 months

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I guess I get why people are conflicted about it in the context of Ed and Stede's argument in ep 7, but I think it's genuinely impossible to read their sex scene in ep 6 as anything other than completely romantic.

There are two conflicting ideas going on here -

Ed and Stede had sex at a very emotional moment, when they were both coming down from the trauma of watching each other get tortured and Stede making his first intentional kill despite Ed warning him not to, and it would have been healthier for them to wait and just talk instead.

The sex itself was entirely consensual, they both enjoyed it a lot and had a good time in the moment, and it was romantic even though it was too fast (in the same sense Ed kissing Stede in s1e9 was too fast).

And it's perfectly possible for both of those ideas to exist at the same time.

We get plenty of hints that them having sex isn't the best idea. Stede is obviously deeply conflicted when Ed comes to check on him, and Ed still wearing his shirt when Stede closes the curtains tells us that he's not quite as ready as Stede, who already has his shirt off.

BUT those little hints do not detract from the romance of the moment! Not at all!

Stede clearly and obviously waits for Ed to nod his consent, and Ed deepens their kiss. The entire bed when Stede closes the curtains is lit up purple, the color we know from s1 symbolizes Ed's love for Stede. There are literally fireworks. It's all set to La Vie en Rose, and I get not everyone speaks French (I don't blame you, it's a godawful language) but the specific lines in this scene are, in my opinion, the most devastatingly romantic in the whole song: "in life, it's him for me, me for him. He swore that to me for life."

And the morning after, they're both clearly feeling great. Ed makes Stede breakfast while cheerfully humming, feels like opening up and telling him about the mermaid thing. They go on a cute little date, Ed seems genuinely happy Stede is getting famous (he's the one who suggests going to Spanish Jackie'z!).

It's only at Spanish Jackie'z, watching Stede having a great time with his fans and Jackie asking him if Stede knows about Ed's "wanting to be a regular guy" thing, that Ed starts panicking. He thinks that Stede will choose this over him and thinks he has to leave before Stede has a chance to leave him. Him saying that having sex was a "mistake" was said in the heat of the moment, and he clearly means that he wishes they'd just waited a bit longer. He's terrified his influence is "ruining" Stede in the same way Stede was in s1e9.

Like any other part of human relationships, sometimes sex can be consensual and fun and still not be at the right time. That's not a bad thing, it's just people being people and people are messy. I genuinely don't think Ed even really regrets having sex in the slightest; I think it was just an easy thing to latch on to as an example of how things were suddenly moving way too fast while he was panicking.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death

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fairyhaos · 7 months

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seventeen as wave to earth songs

requested by @haocovr !

notes: this was my excuse to finally drag my ass into listening to w2e haha

[this fic's spotify playlist]

masterlist

seungcheol

sunburn. the prominent drum beats and guitars make the song feel darker than some of their others. more grounded, more determined, more assured. nothing whimsical, but still fiercely and unconditionally loving all the same. there's also protection there- the idea of intentionally burning in the sun for people you love to live.

jeonghan

evening glow. it's a song about how one is perceived and receiving love unconditionally anyway, and it's something that, oddly, fits jeonghan. it's also a song that gives off vibes of tired love: not a love that feels exhausting, but of loving someone deeply even when you're at your most exhausted. being by their side no matter what.

joshua

peach eyes. gentlest gentleman song for the gentlest gentleman person in the entire world. it reminds me of cliche romantic moments: picnics by the river, serenading someone on the balcony, kissing under fireworks. the colour imagery of pastels and gentleness fits him so well, too. there's devotion, fondness, looking over at someone and realising you want to spend the rest of your life with them.

junhui

daisy. it's whimsical. it's romantic. it's almost painfully fluffily cheesy and hopelessly infatuated and adorable, just like junhui. it's eyes lighting up almost embarrassingly bright when you see your favourite person. it's giggling internally when you finally hold hands with them. it's junhui in a nutshell.

hoshi

pueblo. it's chill. it's a chill song, don't-carish but also just at peace. it feels like the soundtrack to a vlog that he'd make, playing in the background as he walks down a bridge, hoodie hanging off one shoulder while the sun beats down on him, but he feels calm. honestly the song just makes me think of 231005 hoshi tbh.

wonwoo

love. the opening notes of this song are so, so lavender purple, and the lyrics are very silver. those of you who have read my wonwoo synaesthesia post know how important that is to me. but it's also so gentle, almost relaxed, in its message of love, like faces melting into smiles that lift up the lips almost of their own accord.

woozi

gold. the drums at the beginning with their syncopated beats is so delicious and basically sold this song as woozi-coded to me. but also the conviction and the determination and self-confidence is so present in this song. it makes me think of bronze coloured pedestals and nameless faces in a crowd but also immense sense of self-assuredness.

minghao

light. it reminds me of some watercolour-style animated movie with no dialogue, only music, and changing sceneries of watercolor people living in a watercolor world. it's whimsical, but not quite. it's dreamy, but only almost. nevertheless, it's romantic, devastatingly so, and promises care and affection like no other.

mingyu

so real. can't explain this one tbh. it starts off so chill and minghao-esque, but it makes me think of mingyu too bc this man is so perceptive and very feeling and very very empathetic. and then the crescendo into a jazzy instrumental outro? it's so so mingyu in the busy-ness of it and the swirling colours and brightness and desire to be perceived but also to be perceived well.

dokyeom

calla. the elegance and the beauty and the hope and the natural imagery that this entire song and it's title evokes is so dk it actually hurts. the blues melodies with the accidentals add a yearning note to the song and it's all so complex and beautiful and reminds me of him. also the message of protection? of nurture? of growth? does that not make you think of him too?

seungkwan

wave. this feels like roadtrips, but peaceful roadtrips. like snapshots of someone rolling down the car window, trailing their hand through the air as they drive down a road by the sea. it's like a daisy petal love, soft and numerous and almost child-like, full of a love that's been long established and carries the promise of many, many more years of comfort together.

vernon

bad. the idea of gentle devotion in the lyrics. the idea that seeing one particular person instantly makes your entire day better. the idea of utter adoration and unconditional love. that's so so vernon actually, and the gentleness and unquestioning, inexplicable, "of course my day was good. i saw you" is so devastatingly him in ways i just cannot explain

chan

surf. the chill, the groove, the lightness? it's jazzy, light like sunlight peeking through thin white curtains. it's a song that immediately makes you smile and feel almost coyly warm, almost like the comfort and security that comes with taking someone's hand and running away from other people's control: it's a giddy security, perhaps a bit tenuous, but makes you feel alive.

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enam3l · 1 year

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dirty thirty (@funsonmunson-again's mafia eddie x reader)

funsonmunson-again's birthday week writing challenge / prompt #24: saving the best for last haha, but birthday spankings with any of the eddies!

happy birthday evie!! thank you for reviving the timeline with your amazing fics. it's eddie's birthday too and he's in trouble...

CW: very much 18+, pure smut, bdsm, use of guns, truly the most depraved thing i've ever written.

For his 30th birthday, Eddie Munson has nearly just taken a shot to the head... but in your defence, he really fucking deserved it.

Slowly - albeit on wobbly feet - Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Freak turn around to face you, eyes still wide from seeing the bullet fly past their boss's shoulder. They're stood in a line like naughty school boys in your garden, caught doing something they shouldn't be. Which is exactly what's happened.

You stand in front of the glass doors that lead onto the patio, curtains billowing and light glowing behind you. Flanked by four growling dogs. The light from the house reveals the curves of your body under the sheer babydoll lingerie you're wearing. But no one is looking at the small number, they're cowering at the pistol in your hands and the infuriated look on your face.

'Get inside, now,' you snarl, the dogs' snapping in agreement with you.

At the stroke of midnight, by some miracle of god, the unimaginable happened and Eddie Munson reached thirty years of age. Each year of his life since he hit ten, felt like a bonus. He was sure he'd never see twenty and absolutely certain he'd never meet thirty but here he was. He'd been surprised you let him go out with the guys that night but you insisted.

'Let loose with the boys, then I can have you all to myself in the day,' you'd smirked, clearly hiding something.

The four men left the house at 8pm, promising to be back by 2am at the latest. Yet, by the fourth shot of tequila, that promise was long forgotten as well as Eddie's suspicions that you'd been planning something.

Which you had. Throughout your four years together, it had been near impossible to surprise Eddie. Firstly, his line of business meant he liked to know everything that was going on. Surprises equalled the opportunity for danger. Secondly, you shared your finances - although, in all honesty, his finances, but he enforced a what's mine is yours policy. So, it was hard to splash on something for him, without him noticing when the bills came or his accountant alerting him. But for his thirtieth, you devised enough was enough.

After hearing him murmur to himself so many times about his disbelief he had survived this long. Not only had he survived, but now, with you by his side, he was living. Your man deserved for once to be surprised and spoilt. To reign in a new decade of life together in the best way possible.

Therefore, for the past year you had been plotting. With the help of Eddie's accountant and the boys, you'd secretly been putting money aside. Slicing off a chunk of any 'shopping trip' money, he gave you, and putting into a secret account. The accountants making investments on your behalf throughout the year that also went into the account.

Now, you had a hefty chunk of cash that was being spent on the most devastatingly romantic holiday to France that money can buy. A long glamorous weekend in Paris, followed by a week hiding away together on a private beach in Monaco. The flight was booked for Eddie's birthday, that's why you'd let the boys take him out - so you could pack without getting rumbled. But nothing is ever so simple with a Munson.

At 1am, with still no Eddie, you'd become impatient.

By 2am, you were irritated.

By 3am, you were furious.

By 4am, you were terrified that something awful had happened.

At 4:15am you thought those fears were confirmed as you heard gunfire from the gardens.

Not even thinking how you were dressed in an entirely unsuitable birthday present for Eddie, your instincts kicked in. Taking the pistol out the bedside table and with your precious pups quick on your heels, you ran down the stairs. Brain screaming with all the awful possibilities of what could've happened. No matter how long you've been together, the fear over Eddie's job never truly leaves. You burst through the patio doors and fire a warning shot... and then you see the culprits.

Eddie and the boys, lined up, their own pistols in hand. Before them were (once) law ornaments which they had clearly lined up and started target practice on. Now they were looking at you, the tiny remaining sober part of their brains were doing some explaining. Maybe coming home late and doing target practice whilst you were oblivious and gone alone, wasn't a great idea.

With big blinking eyes, like Bambi in front of headlights, Eddie begins to stumble on his words.

'K-k-kitten, hi... I'm s-sorr-'

'Shut the fuck up,' you snapped harshly. The rest of the guys immediately looked down at the ground.

'Edward, get inside NOW. The rest of you, leave.'

Immediately, the four grown men begin to wobble and scramble. The three that weren't your fiancée, babbling,

'We're so sorry Y/N... we didn't mean to... we lost track of...'

'I don't care. Go, before you're limping as well as swaying and this time it'll be because I've shot you in the fucking leg.'

In a flash, they were gone. You glowered at your now shattered flamingos in the distance before turning to look at Eddie. He was tripping over the entrance to the house when you finally looked him in the eye.

'Baby... I really sorry,' he whispered.

'I don't think you are,' you said coolly, 'go to the bedroom. Now.'

Eddie didn't hesitate, he quickened his stumbling pace. As you locked the doors, you could see him gripping onto Lucifer for stability. Then using Zeus as well once he attempted the stairs. You could hear him unsubtly whispering to them as he climbed the marble steps.

'I've never seen your Mom this mad before.'

It's true, he hadn't and he was petrified. More terrified than he had ever been in a sticky situation during work, he had far more to lose with you. Good job Munson, he grumbles to himself, not even five hours into 30 and you've fucking blown it.

When you finally come up to the bedroom, Eddie is sat on the edge of the bed, throbbing head in his hands. Now he's not stumbling around, he can finally look at you. The pretty sheer dress you're wearing in his favourite colours, pretty bows and ruffles and microscopic matching panties. Your hair is swept up how he likes as well. Everything you've done, as ever, is for him. He feels awful and not because he's drank the best part of a bottle of tequila and a whiskey more expensive than several of his rings.

'You look really beautiful, kitten,' he whispers, big eyes now wet.

But your eyes are still filled with anger.

'How could you, Eddie!' You shout, 'you scared the shit out of me!'

'I'm sorry, I-' he croaks.

'No!' You snap, taking a kitten heel off and launching it across the room. 'No excuses. I've not finished! Can you imagine if I had done that? Disappeared longer than I said and without contact? Then you heard random shooting outside?'

Eddie's blood ran cold at the thought and knuckles white as he gripped the sheets beneath him. If he was in your shoes, a search party would be out and he'd be sick with worry.

'That's what I thought,' you mutter as you see the look on his face. 'You wouldn't let me ever leave without an escort again.'

It's true, he'd never let you leave his side.

'I thought you were...' your facade and your voice finally cracks, 'I've never been so scared in my life!'

Irritated that your mask has slipped, you stomp forward to Eddie. With all the anger in your body, you shove your lean fiancée, causing him to fall backwards on the bed. Eddie stays lying there, not wanting to look up and catch you sniffling. He doesn't want to make it worse. His heart cracks hearing what he's done to you, especially on what is supposed to be a happy day. Especially when you'd clearly planned something for his return.

He clears his throat, wanting to ensure he gets his words out perfectly.

'Kitten, I know. You never would've done this to me. I'm so sorry. What can I do? How do I fix it?'

There's only silence for a little while but he keeps his eyes trained to the white ceiling. Then, he feels your hand hovering on his knee.

'Turn over,' you say firmly but quietly.

Eddie lets out a confused mumble but does as he's told. Right now, if you told him to eat his own shoes, he would. Then, he feels you take an ankle, lifting it so you can begin to take off his boot. Once it's off, he kicks off the other himself. He gulps then, truly unwitting over your plans. Your hands now tug at the waist of his slacks, nails scratching at his back. In attempt to aid you, he raises his hips and undoes his belt and buttons, allowing you to slide them off.

He hears the sound of his eyelashes flutter against the duvet as he blinks, anxiously. Are you just getting him ready for bed? He would like to just go to sleep in your arms right now. Whisper he's sorry and he loves you until you both fall asleep. But that's not what is going to happen.

No, that's definitely not going to happen, Eddie realises suddenly. As before he can even process, you've quickly tugged down his underwear, and have cracked down your palm against his ass cheek. Eddie gasps.

'You're going to feel how angry I am, Eddie,' you say so calmly that a trail of goosebumps prickle down his spine.

'I'm going to do to you, what you would've done to me in this situation... and you're going to take it.'

Crack. You hit his cheek again.

'Do you understand?'

'Yes, kitten,' he barely whispers. He's scared, confused and aroused. Never, ever, have you done this to him before but he doesn't dare protest.

'Good,' your palm soothes over the attacked cheek. It's barely blushing, your own hand nothing in comparison to Eddie's own sprawling ones. He widens his legs so you can stand further between them. He knows right now, he just needs to let you do what you need to do.

Crack. Crack. Eddie gasps. Crack. The fear, surprise and arousal mixed together is intoxicating. His heart is in his throat and his palms are sweating. Each smack, full of raw emotion, sends a zap through his body.

'That's five, Eddie... I'm going to do thirty.'

Eddie's eyes widen.

'If you're going to act like this, at your age now, then I'm going to give you a present deserving of it. So, twenty five to go.'

He's not sure he can last that long in silence, without crying out your name or moaning or worse, popping a boner whilst you're angry. Then, he feels a dip on the bed alongside him. For the first time since you shoved him, he dares to steal a glance at you. Your eyes are dark and looking back at him.

'You should probably sit across my knee. It'll make this easier for everyone,' your voice is unwavering. This new stern side to you is equal parts unnerving and sexy.

Eddie scrambles to his feet quickly and stands before you. You look him up and down, infuriatingly, he looks so good. You'd thought that when he left the house and you couldn't wait to throw yourself at him upon his return. But he ruined it. Now he's just there, a sheepish look on his face, shirt still on but his cock out. You had planned to ride it until you both collapsed, but now plans have been spoilt.

'Take your shirt off and get over my knee,' you sigh. Your voice sounds so uninterested, it makes Eddie's heart pang. He wants to get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention and forgiveness. Desperate to smother you in kisses.

However, he does as he's told. A shiver rippling through him as he rids himself of the shirt. Anxiously, he walks to the side of you and clambers onto the bed and then spreads himself over your lap. He wiggles, following your guidance to get his lap perfectly across your thighs.

'Baby, is this right? Do you need to me to move more?' Eddie asks, desperate to please you.

'S'fine,' you say casually.

But there's nothing casual about the gasp that escapes him as your fingers trail down his back. Small circles drawn into the dimples above his ass. Then one hand trails down to the top of his thigh and rests, whilst another stays on his asscheek. There's nothing for a moment and Eddie feels his heart racing and the anticipation. Until, he feels your soft lips place a peck on the one cheek you'd struck. It gives him butterflies knowing you still want to give him gentle loves.

'That's nice... thank you, baby,' his voice sounds smaller than ever before.

'S'okay, Eds. I'm gonna go again now, okay?'

He nods. Your hand smooths over the untouched cheek, stealing a squeeze.

'This one needs to catch up, hmm?' You coo. Oh god, he thinks, you're playing with him now. Like a cat with a mouse.

Five sharp, consecutive slaps, crack down against the porcelain skin. Each jolting Eddie and causing him to gasp. You squint, wondering if part of him actually enjoys this. So you test the theory.

'Nineteen,' you say.

Then, the hand smacks down, harder than ever before. Hard enough that he knows there's a mark.

'Eighteen!'

This one even harder, your hand clearly coming down from quite a distance. The jolt from the force causes his cock to flop between the gap of your thighs.

'Seventeen! Sixteen!'

Smack. Smack. Both as hard as the last. There's no denying it hurts, but it's also good. Eddie feels good that you're punishing him for scaring you. It satisfies the shame he feels and his body knows it because his cock springs to life. Rock hard now between your soft thighs.

'You're fucking hard?' You scoff, turning the cheeks on his face, not just his ass, bright red. 'Do you not understand that I'm angry? This isn't for your pleasure! Fifteen!'

'Oh fuck,' Eddie cries. Fifteen was the hardest yet and it pushed his body down, causing your thighs to tug at his cock.

'You're sick, Eddie. Getting off on this...' you rake your nails down his back now, causing more moans from him.

'Do you like it? Facing the consequences of your actions for once, baby?' You snarl. Your hands have now reached the base of his neck and tug at some hair there.

'Yes, yes,' he wines. He can't stop himself, he thrusts into your thighs some more. Fucking himself between your plush skin. You're genuinely shocked.

'Oh my god... you really are getting off on this, hmm? Engaged and I'm still learning new things about you. My dirty boy, hmm. Ready for more?'

Panting from thrusting at your thighs, Eddie nods.

'Okay, you asked for it...'

Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. Ten. Each one is quick, sharp and alternates between each cheek. Eddie snaps his hips, jerking his throbbing cock off in time with your hits. Your own panties are soaked at seeing your big, scary, mafia boss, so desperate and pathetic.

Eddie whelps something you don't make out. You pinch the skin of his hip and ask him to repeat.

'The belt, the belt,' he cries, 'god, please use the fucking belt!'

Your face scrunches up, wondering if he really just said what you think. But before you can process, you feel him shift. His arm stretches out down to the floor. Your questions are answered when he thrusts the belt he had holding his slacks up, behind his back and into your hands.

Oh, you gasp internally, he really fucking wants this bad.

Tauntingly, you brush the smooth leather across his skin.

'You feel that bad, huh? Understand just how angry I am, Edward?'

'Yes, kitten, please...' he cries, 'please show me.'

At first you hesitate, not wanting to do some serious damage. Folding the belt in half, you bring down the looped end against his bright pink cheek. Nine. The sound is heavier than any your palm could make but you know the sensation is even harsher.

Eddie groans in frustration and shakes his head. He wants it worse.

You tighten your grip and bring it down harder. Eight. Instantly there's lines imprinted on his skin from the edges of the belt. But it's clear that's what he wanted, as his hips thrust ferociously and you feel precum trickling down your calf.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Eddie is crying your name, fists white knuckling the bed linen. His skin has transformed from magenta to blooms of purple.

'Just five more and then it's the big 3-0, okay?'

He's barely paying attention, so lost in the high, continuously fucking himself in your thighs. You take the belt to the other cheek now.

Four. A warning spank. You lean down and press a kiss each cheek. This is it.

'Say'

Three.

'You're'

Two.

'Fucking'

One.

'Sorry!'

Eddie's cock spurts his load all down your legs as he cries.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry kitten, I'm so fucking sorry!'

His body trembles on you at the aftershock of such intense touch. Another load of cum squirts out. He sobs real tears, you can tell, into the sheets.

'Kitten. I'm sorry, m'sorry, love you s'much,' he whimpers.

You let both your hands soothingly rub his back and thighs and you lean down to presses kisses to his ass. Perfect porcelain now splattered in purples and pinks.

'I know, Eds. It's why it upset me so much. You're never reckless like that... I wanted you home. Was supposed to be perfect when you got home...'

Eddie can hear that the anger is gone and now there's just a soft sadness in your voice. Ignoring the ache in his backside, he crawls off you, sliding onto the floor. Slotting himself between your thighs as he rests on his knees. Capturing your hands, he kisses them.

'Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,' he pleads. Big brown eyes, red from tears and begging. Letting go of your hands, Eddie takes your knees and pushes them further apart. He reveals his cum still dripping from you thighs. Leaning in, eyes still looks at you, he kitten licks his own spend up.

'You shouldn't have let me cum,' he mumbled against the velvety skin at the apex of your thighs.

'Should've forced me to make you cum, over and over and over... so that's what I'm gonna do.'

You just nod and let Eddie take over. He tugs your soaked panties off.

'These were so cute, kitten. I didn't deserve them,' he sucks at the wet crotch, 'daddy was so bad but now daddy will make it up to you. I promise.'

With that, Eddie dives into your folds. Lapping up the wetness that's been gathering like he had his own cum. That alone makes you sigh, so much of the tension leaving your body. Bringing your thighs over his shoulder, he buried his face further to access to your clit. Latching onto it the moment he finds it. Sucking until you squirm.

'That's it,' he sighs, his voice happy now, 'going to make my girl feel better.' He punctuates each word with a soft kiss to your bud.

It's all parts feral and tender and causes your tense body to flop back onto the bed. Eddie is shortly quick to chase you. With your thighs round his neck, he guides you to lie back against the pillows so he can completely lie down and lose himself in your cunt.

Now his body is fully relaxed, he makes out with your pussy. Going from sucking your clit to lapping at your hole.

'That's so good, Eds,' you coo, hand twisting curls round your fingers. Now, Eddie knows he's on his way to forgiveness.

Forcing your legs a little further, he goes in for the kill. Using the move he knows always makes you crumble. He sucks both his thumbs, letting one come up to toy with your clit and the other drops to press against your tight asshole.

The concentration alone sobers Eddie up. He hears you gasp and cry his name as the thumbs circle each pleasure point. Then he lets his tongue fuck into your hole unrelentingly. Faster. Faster. Your thighs are squirming but Eddie won't stop until you get the release you deserve. The wiggling results into his thumb popping into your asshole causing your hips to jerk and your hand to rip at his hair.

'Jesus fuck, Eddie,' you sob, tears erupting at the overwhelming sensation.

Eddie plunges his tongue as far as he can, along with his thumb in your ass and then tears aren't the only thing erupting. Your little cunt spasms, squirt soaking his tongue and face. Your whole body left trembling as you gasp. Eddie doesn't let on that it causes him to cum against the bedsheets where he'd be gently rubbing himself against.

Wiping his face and licking his fingers clean, Eddie smiles at your fucked out frame.

'That is the best birthday present you can ever get me, kitten.'

Leaving you to catch your breath, he gets up and waddles over to the light switch. His sore cheeks definitely limiting his movements more than the alcohol ever did. The bedside lamp keeps the room in a soft glow as he turns the main light off.

Slowly, he climbs under the covers and into bed next to you.

'Is it... is it okay if I hold you now, Y/N?' Eddie's voice is soft but nerve filled. You turn and look at him, chocolate eyes full of worry still. Nodding, you shuffle under the duvet and into his waiting arms. Lying in a way that you can both look at each other.

'I love you and I'm sorry. I can't imagine how scared you must've been. We got carried away,' he sighs, stroking fallen strands out of your face. Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to his chewed lips. He melts into you instantly, soul settling to be fully reunited with yours.

'Just... don't do something like that again or I won't let you make it to thirty,' you smile against his lips.

Eddie pulls back and looks at you, wide eyed in shock. 'You see us being 60 together?'

His response makes your brow furrow.

'Yes? Obviously, you silly boy? Eds... I'm marrying you in just a couple of months.' You laugh, pressing another few kisses to his lips. When you look back, his cheeks are flushed like his backside.

'Doesn't seem real still. Don't know how I made it this long, but you wanting to marry me? S'the most unbelievable part...'

You shake your head.

'Best get believing. You're about to experience a week long love fest...'

Eddie cocks his head in confusion and you lean up to peck his cute round nose.

'I think we'll have to bring your ruined ass a cushion though for the journey... filthy boy,' you chuckle causing Eddie to groan and bite his lip.

But your words must finally hit him. Releasing you from his hold, he now waves his arms maddeningly in confusion.

'What the hell, what's going on, woman!'

You chuckle to yourself, knowing you're finally about to pull off a surprise on him. Even at 30, the love of your life, Eddie Munson, still doesn't know how spectacular he is. But it's okay, you've got the rest of your lives to show him.

did you enjoy that? i bet you did, you sick fucks x

#funsonsbdaygame #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x female reader #enam3ls rockstar eddie

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

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Arranged omegaverse marriage with unrequited loveeee…

What about if omega Hob is forced to marry dream, a rich and powerful alpha who will help raise his family’s status, but this time it’s Dream who’s in unrequited love with hob.

Dream fell in love with hob’s scent but also his personality and his beauty from afar. When hob became eligible for marriage, Dream immediately went to hob’s guardian and made an offer for his hand. They’d never even MET.

it was a surprise to everyone that the third son of the endless, practically royalty, chose some minor noble omega who was barely worth noticing. And hob is in no position to refuse.

Hob is scared at first. He doesn’t even know what this alpha wants from him. Hob is a nobody compared to him which means he is entering a marriage with no power and maybe that’s really what Dream wants—a mate he has complete control over. Maybe he’s a cruel alpha who doesn’t want an equal but a bed warmer to use, maybe even abuse.

So he goes to the wedding shaking and scared.

Dream is thrilled, up until he smells how scared hob is.

It’s even worse when they’re alone. Dream is confused and awkward and hob is prepared for the worst.

Dream tries to tell hob not to be afraid but he’s so stilted that hob takes it as a threat—it’s a mess. They don’t even have sex and dream goes to bed sure that the omega he loves has only married him for his money, and he won’t get the great love he wanted.

Still he is determined to provide a good life for hob. Hob deserves it, even if he doesn’t love dream…

But over time hob realizes what a good heart dream has. He realizes dream hasn’t tried to hurt him and has quietly arranged for hob’s life to be easier. He buys him books and never encroaches on his space and has all his favorite things memorized—the wine he likes, his favorite flowers, and he makes sure hob gets the best of everything.

And he doesn’t even touch hob. When hob’s first heat comes, dream sits in the room with him and mops his forehead. even when hob begs, dream doesn’t knot him. He just soothes him with cool fingers in his hole and ensures he has food and water.

It comes to a head when some alpha at a party calls hob a gold-digger and dream straight up challenges him to a duel for hob’s honor. (He wins.)

That’s when hob realizes that maybe the reason Dream wanted to marry him was actually love. And maybe his alpha is just an awkward hopeless romantic.

I love it! Dream takes great pleasure in defending Hob’s honour. He's so pleased to have the opportunity to show Hob how he feels. He doesn't even have to speak or scare Hob by getting in his personal space. Dream can simply show the whole world that he loves Hob and he expects nothing in return!

Hob isn't scared anymore, he's just devastatingly horny about the way he alpha fought for him. Watching Dream get all defensive and growly makes Hob go right into pre-heat, which he cant disguise even if he tries. He sees Dream’s nose twitching at the change of scent and blushes fiercely. His alpha must think that he's so silly, going from a complete scaredy-cat to a drooling slut.

Dream, of course, just thinks that Hob is wonderful. He can't wait to get his omega home. He's fully prepared to do another heat just taking care of Hob with his fingers and soothing him through it. But as soon as they do get home, Hob makes it abundantly clear that that's not what he wants. It's not the heat talking. He's really falling for Dream, and he wants to be with him properly. The best part is, all of these emotions show up in his scent. So Dream knows that it's all true.

Hob gets to spend this heat with his alpha, being made love to and worshipped the whole time. And from now on he knows that he's going to treat Dream like a king, because it's absolutely what he deserves - to feel loved in return, just as he's loved Hob from the start.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse

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petrichorca · 2 months

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Hello, I am slowly figuring out how to use tumblr effectively. I thought I'd give an update on fics I've written in 2024, but keep forgetting to talk about here in a meaningful way.

As We Go Hand in Hand (explicit, gentlebeard, 7100 words) follows Ed as he processes the past few months while living on the island with Stede, massively in love but struggling with himself. I wrote it while feeling a lot of delayed grief around the (confirmed) s2 cancellation, and while it's sad at points it's also quite romantic I think. I really love this story.

Behind Closed Eyes All I See is You (explicit, gentlebeard, 5300 words) is a smutty PWP my dear friend @chaoticturtleturtle invited me to write with her. Stede lets Ed take the lead in a scene with some sensory deprivation, pwp, and aftercare.

like sugar to my heart (mature, gentlebeard, 4200 words) is a silly fic I wrote for my Animorphs OFMD AU co-writer as a birthday gift. Our blue four-legged four-eyed mouthless alien Stedeth gets foiled by a vending machine (based on the tumblr art of the giraffe centaur), and Ed consoles him.

like a bird (teen, gentlebeard, 3700 words) with @ghostalservice gives some backstory about Stedeth's life prior to the events of our 177k fic and features some very cute art of Mary and Stede's children (as Andalites, of course) by @theogem

Stede’s Cursed Red Suit as a Metaphor for Grief and Moving On (teen, stede + izzy, 1717 words) explores the squishy time of season 2, episode 5, and the dynamic between Stede and Izzy in season 2 overall. I am also obsessed with how Stede acts in the cursed suit. I find their s2 relationship really interesting so this is me looking a bit at that via a missing scene starting with Stede yelling OH FUCK OFF.

Calypso’s Dawn (explicit, gentlebeard, 1800 words) centers around how Ed made his boyfriend blush the morning after Calypso's birthday and how Ed feels about it. I love this fic. I've been trying to challenge myself to write more self-contained, shorter stories and this one turned out really well imo.

Life as a Series of Forward Rolls (teen, gentlebeard, 9900 words) features Stede running into his teenhood crush, the gold medalist in men's gymnastics from the 1996 Olympics. This fic also centers around a Barbie doll in Ed Teach's likeness, which @swashbuckling-sweethearts made an INCREDIBLE art of (embedded at the end of the story), inspired by my own 1996 Olympics Barbie. Silly and light modern AU!

Did you mean to do that? (teen, gentlebeard, 700 words) explores Stede's grief around Ed dying, even when he knows Ed is alive. I had no idea I would be so interested in writing missing scenes, but long conversations with friends have really ignited me in exploring these. (The length - I was trying to channel @brigdh, whose ability to write devastatingly brilliant drabbles inspires me, and I'm pleased with this one!)

Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday (mature, gentlebeard, 4900 words) with @ferventrabbit follows Stede and Ed deciding to get married on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday, and drag their inn guest Dave along for the ride. We split up writing the vows, and I balled my eyes out writing mine and then reading em's. This story is fluffy and fun, and it was a great way to start 2024. :)

What's next: I'm working on or noodling a lot of projects, solo and with different collaborators. Imminently, I've got a fic with @veeagainsttheday coming for AUpril on April 1st. Hoping to get something else out in April for @ofmdjanuaury's AUpril 2024 event, which I highly encourage folks to check out - it's for all sorts of creators!

@ghostalservice and I continue to think about our blue alien Stede and his human boyfriend Ed. Wanna Fly Away was such an important project to me while we were writing, and it's become even more special as folks find it. WFA now has art embedded in most of the 15 chapters, so if you haven't seen those check it out. More to come in that space.

Where was I going with this? Well, I suppose I want to say I'm still here. OFMD changed my life, and the OFMD fandom community is deeply important to me. I still hold out hope for a third season, or a follow-up that brings us more closure, but no matter what I'm still thinking about our pirates and will for a long time. If you read this far, thanks for being part of my community. <3

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #ofmd fanfic #my fanfic #stede bonnet #edward teach

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yieldtotemptation · 2 years

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FINDINGS ft. Winter

winter x male reader smut

10k words

a sequel to... EXPERIMENTS

"I want to be clear upfront. I'm not going to have sex with you."

Your words bring the conversation to a screeching halt, and it takes a moment for Winter to process the ridiculous sentence you just said, words that even you can't believe came out of your own mouth.

But then Winter just smiles—unbothered, irresistible—and replies—"a little late for that, don't you think?"

"I mean not tonight," you clarify, before adding, "tonight I just want to talk."

"Oh."

This isn't the first time you've attempted this conversation with Winter, but you're determined to make sure it's the last.

See, the first "experiment" with Winter was quickly followed by the second—solely under the innocent pretence of figuring out whether or not that first time where you made her feel (in her words) "so fucking good"—was a fluke. But then of course that required a third test, and then a fourth, and soon you were all too willingly being introduced to every inch of the young idol's body.

Since then you've become the leading expert in all the ways to make Winter writhe and moan and scream, and she's become so very talented at making you yearn for her every second she's not around, to the point where you are both well and truly prepared to submit your joint dissertation on just how good you can make each other feel.

But despite all that, despite all the late nights and early mornings—those magical hours when the rest of the world slept, and time stopped for just you and Winter—you still haven't been able to put a label on exactly what the two of you are.

Which leads you back to now—long past midnight and alone in your apartment, face to face with one Kim Minjeong. Attempting to define once and for all what your relationship is, rather than remain in this state of being not quite friends, not exactly romantic lovers, more like—

"So no time for a quick experiment, partner?" Winter asks, entirely unsubtle with her use of your shared euphemism.

It's so easy for her to make you regret your chosen course of action, especially when she's standing right in front of you looking like this. She's wearing a ludicrously sized overcoat, so you don't even get a chance to gawk at her petite, slender body that you know is hidden underneath. Not that it matters anyway, considering it's her face—the single dimple on her cheek, the near-imperceptible dip of her lovely, pink lips, and her eyes—so flawless and angelic, that seizes your heart.

Even still, it's not just about the way she looks—Winter carries herself with that ephemeral thing that all devastatingly beautiful people of her calibre have. It's the air of self-confidence, of complete comfort in her own skin, built from years of absorbing the stares of envy and lust from every single human encounter she’s had up until this point.

Winter's gaze remain fixed to you, dancing across your body, making you feel naked underneath the stare of her wide, undeniably gorgeous eyes. She asks, "are you sure?"

Of course I'm fucking not—is what you want to say, but it's pointless considering you're both well aware of how easy it would be for Winter to change your mind.

But instead, you reiterate. "Just for tonight, Winter. We need to talk."

"I don't like the sound of that," Winter says, her demeanour instantly changing. She turns from you, crossing the apartment and sauntering past you, and you forget for a moment that it's your apartment that the two of you are in and that she's the guest.

All that is washed away by the sight of her walking by, turning your apartment floor into her very own runway—it's in the lightness of her steps, the sway of her hips, the practiced, model-esque strides she makes—it takes more than a coat to hide the way she moves.

It's now that you're noticing the backpack she's been wearing the whole time, impractically small and bulging with what appears to be a small package held within. It's the coat, the backpack, the hair—long, blonde, and tied in two twin-tails—that sets off the alarm bells in your head telling you to stop her before it gets too far.

By now, it’s more than clear that Winter is not going to make it easy for you.

She's already made her way to her favourite spot in your apartment, taking off her backpack and plopping herself down on the corner of your large, plush cloud couch. She mercifully breaks the silence. "So."

The couch you'd picked together is large enough that you could both lay down side by side and still have room to spare, and when you purposefully join her on the opposite side, the distance you create between the two of you earns you a light giggle.

"Wow, you really must be serious." She's right—you can usually count the seconds between her entering your apartment and your clothes coming off. "So, tell me—what do you want to talk about?"

"Your hair," you blurt out without even thinking. Winter blinks. You distinctly remember being more eloquent prior to meeting Winter. "I mean—what's up with your hair?"

Winter raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "There's a nicer way to ask that, you know?"

"Right—sorry—just surprised. Twin-tails? Your hair was," you gesture with your hand, "here yesterday."

"The wonders of extensions," Winter says, stretching out in an all-too-unsubtle way, trying to hide her shuffling across the couch and closer to you. "You really want to waste time talking about my hair? When you could be—oh, I don't know—pulling on it?"

You swallow, determined not to be swayed by her blatantly obvious attempt to steer the conversation. You strategically choose to ignore her, she was far too smart to engage with directly, and you try to press on past it. "Minjeong, I've been thinking."

"Glad to hear it," Winter interrupts, but you soldier on.

"About us."

"That sounds less promising."

"No, not like that—obviously," you roll your eyes. While the definition of whatever this is has gone unspoken, the one thing that is for certain is that neither of you wants it to end.

"Obviously," Winter echoes back, that smile returning to her face, and you swear she's moved even closer.

"Right, what I want to say is—what are you doing?"

Winter leans forward, unceremoniously undoing the buttons on her coat, letting the oversized garment fall off her shoulders. In one, casual motion, Winter wipes from your mind every word of the speech you had painstakingly rehearsed.

You expected this—you know better than this—but it's Winter, and it's the pristine, short, white skirt that rides a little too low, and the chequered, pastel-blue tank top that barely tries to cover anything at all. It's her midriff—her toned, tight stomach, her well-earned abs—and it's the hint of cleavage—the chance glimpse of the perfectly small and perky breasts that's kept hidden underneath. It's all of it, all of her, and it's capped off with a bow right at the centre of her chest, begging to be—

"Let me take a guess—you're thinking of unwrapping me, aren't you?" Winter catches you red-handed, her smile now spread into a wicked grin, and she's taken advantage of the distraction to have somehow closed the distance between the two of you.

"God, Winter, every time I try this we just end up—"

You could've sworn you only blinked, but it's apparently enough time for Winter to have crossed the length of the couch and taken your lips—her hands cupping your cheeks, kissing you softly, leaving you with the taste of vanilla and sweetness and everything good in the world.

Her kisses are light and teasing, like silk against your own lips, sneak previews of what is to come next. She marks a trail with her kisses down your cheek and up the slope of your jaw, ending with a small nibble on your ear.

"We just end up what?"

She's straddling you now, coiling herself around you, moulding her body into yours, fitting perfectly against you like a puzzle piece clicking into place, like this is where she's meant to be.

It's instinct by now for you to wrap your arms around her, to draw her into your embrace. You've always loved how she felt in your arms—so small, so delicate, so tight. But there's a strength to her as well—in the tensing of her back as you run your fingers over her warm, soft skin, and in the flex of her legs on either side of you, drawing your own hips forward and forcing her skirt to ride higher up her perfect, creamy thighs.

She makes you forget about everything that isn't her, letting you indulge in the feeling of having her pressed against you, letting you sink into her lips, her touch. It's the heave of her chest against yours, the warmth of her breath on your neck, the roll of her hips into your own waist—and your every rational thought is washed away.

Her hands are in your shirt, grabbing fistfuls of cotton, ready to rip off the fabric if necessary, but it's just as she's about to claim her victory that you stop yourself—stop her—your hand grabbing her wrist and holding her still.

"Minjeong," you say, and Winter draws her head back from you, separating from your kiss and looking back at you, face heated and flushed red, eyes desperate and filled with want.

She's so, so beautiful—the kind of beauty that the greatest artists dedicate lifetimes attempting to capture, and her eyes on you alone forces the air to rush out of your lungs.

You manage to steel yourself, meeting her gaze, and getting to the point of the words you've kept bottled up for months now. "I want to know what we are, Winter."

Winter reaches out with her fingers, and you loosen your grip to let her touch your cheek, let her run her soft fingertips along the side of your face. "We're…"

She's no longer looking in your eyes, only following the path her fingers draw on your face, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in the way it often did when she needed to choose her words carefully.

"We're whatever we need each other to be," she settles on saying. "And right now I want you to be with me."

You sigh, relenting, "I know that much, Winter."

Winter kisses you again, a quick, soft press of her lips against yours—it's assuring and affectionate, and for now it will have to be enough. "And what I really want right now is to show you what I've brought with me today."

You follow Winter's gaze to the coffee table next to the couch, where her backpack now sits. "Really?"

"Trust me you'll like it," Winter says, "it's something new."

"New?" You ask, finding the prospect quite hard to believe, considering how much ground the two of you had covered through your many experiments.

"New," Winter repeats herself, smiling brightly, eyes alight with mischief. "See—I was also thinking."

"Now I don't like the sound of that," you say mockingly.

"There's so much we’ve done," Winter ignores you, now it’s her turn to press on, "I've lost count of how many experiments we’ve run in your bedroom—"

"A classic," you agree, playing along.

"—and I'm pretty sure we've covered every possible space in your apartment—"

"All except for the closet."

"—and we've even explored places outside your apartment—"

"Those dressing rooms will never quite be the same."

"—we've used ropes, handcuffs, and so, so many toys—"

"Don't forget that time with the shower head."

"—right. So," Winter says, finally getting around to her grand conclusion. "We've tried all these things and all these locations, but there's still one last thing we haven't tried. Or should I say, one last place."

Leave it to Winter to know exactly how to make your heart race. "You don't mean—?"

There's a playfulness still in Winter's smile, but it's her eyes now—dripping with pure lust and need for you. "Now, would you like to see what's in my backpack?"

Winter doesn't wait for your response, only shifts her weight around you, and just so happens to grind herself harder into your lap as she moves. She leans to the side and reaches into her backpack, retrieving from it a small, perfectly cubed box.

She shifts back onto you, again pressing her hips down onto your waist, provoking your arousal, and presents the box to you.

You take it out of her hands, flipping it over to look at the photo on the front—a small, teardrop-shaped toy—and read the discreet label—

Our Naughty Secret

You look back up at Winter, and see the knowing, naughty grin on her face.

You test the weight of the box in your hand—it's empty.

"What do you think?" Winter asks, her voice low and laced with intention. "Do you want to talk, or do you want to find out how good of a job this toy has done?"

Words fail you—the box slips from your fingers and tumbles to the ground, and your hands are back on her body—where they should be—pulling her closer to you.

Winter falls into you, kissing you again, only now it’s deeper, hotter. You let out a gasp as she moves atop you, grinding in long, slow rolls of her hips, bringing your cock to life. She grasps the back of your neck, sinking you further into her kiss, easing you into the deep water with her.

It's tender and loving and slow, but before long your new hardness, desperately trying to break free from the confines of your pants, makes it's presence known, forcefully pressing up and into Winter.

Even through the layers of fabric that separates you—your pants and her panties—the pressure of your cock up against her folds is enough to turn her small hums against your lips into full on moans, opening her mouth to welcome your tongue.

Her tongue meets yours, engaging in a torrid dance, communicating with you her need for you, her delight at being in your arms, at feeling your body against hers.

Eventually Winter's lips leave yours, and she brings herself even closer to you, tightening her embrace around your neck so she can press herself up against your body and whisper in your ear.

"I know what you want to say…" You can't see her face with her so close to you, but from the hitch in her breath as she whispers, you can hear the vulnerability in her words. "We can talk about this afterwards… I promise we will. Just—be with me for now. Love me like this for now. Is that okay?"

You nod, kissing into her collarbone, and whisper back, "okay."

She loosens her arms around you and moves back, creating distance between your bodies so she can look you in the eyes. "Enjoy this. Enjoy me. Look at my bow—I'm a present wrapped up just for you."

Your hands make quick work of her top—there's a zipper at her back. Little time is spent appreciating the clothing, you just peel it off her body and throw it over your shoulder and out of sight.

Even though you've already committed every single inch of her flawless, petite body to memory, it still kills you each time you get to see her laid bare—to see her naked breasts, so small and creamy and perfect.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Winter says, wearing a smile that might as well be a declaration of victory, "but something tells me you really want to."

It's a joke that you even attempted to resist her—she's a dream personified—an ethereal beauty, so unattainable yet here she is, completely naked and in your lap.

You kiss into her skin, the only way you can prove that she's real, pressing your lips against the beauty mark that sits above her left breast.

"Fine," you murmur into her skin, "but we're talking after this."

"Sure we are." Winter laughs, while tilting her head up so you can adorn her chest with more of your kisses.

You bring your right hand around from her back, finding her hip, and then running your fingers up her tight waist, before ending your journey at her perky breasts. Your touch alone is enough to elicit a gasp from her, to make her sigh in pleasure as you fondle a soft, palm-sized breast.

She purses her lips together, trying to hold back a moan as you start to massage her mound. You squeeze into the soft flesh, gently thumbing her nipple, toying with the taut nub.

"Yes," Winter whispers. She takes your other hand into hers, bringing it up to her chest and placing your palm on her right breast. "Touch me."

You're more than eager to comply, happily fondling her lovely, round breasts, teasing her cute nubs. The rolling of her hips becomes more urgent as you dig your fingers into her chest, and she arches her back, desperate to press more of herself into your hands.

She gasps again when you pinch her stiff, caramel nipple, rolling the dime-sized nub between your thumb and forefinger, finding the exact way to touch her to make her say—"just like that."

Her eyes close shut, her hands return to your neck, and she pulls you down into her chest, needily pushing her breasts up into your face.

You breathe her in—feeling the heat of her body against your lips, inhaling in her scent. She gets hotter under your touch—under your lips—beads of sweat start to run down her neck and onto her chest, giving you a taste of the salty-sweetness of her skin.

You dip your head lower, taking Winter's breast into your mouth, closing your lips around her nipple, slurping at it greedily. You indulge in her body, treating it like the most delicious meal, like it's the only sustenance you need—kissing her skin, leaving gentle bites on her chest, sucking down deeply on her nipple, hungrily flicking your tongue against her, covering her breast in your saliva.

Winter let's out a high-pitched squeal as you make the most of her perky breasts—she oohs and aahs at each brush of your tongue and graze of your teeth, and moans loudly when you suck down on her nipple, all while you freely grope into her other breast with your hand.

Her fingers find the back of your head, tangling her fingers through your hair as you move to her other breast, giving it the equal squeezing, pinching and sucking that it deserves.

You could spend hours on her chest, but Winter stops you before you get carried away, pulling back on your hair and away from her dusky, saliva-soaked nipples, tilting your head up so you're captured in her pleading, lustful gaze.

"Please," she whimpers, "I need you—now."

"You already have me."

Winter pulls your own shirt off your body, throwing it in the same direction that her top went, using it as a momentary distraction to loosen your hands from the chest. Before you can be too indignant at the fact that you were no longer cupping her wonderful tits, Winter slips off the couch and down your body, landing onto her knees.

You turn your body with her, as she falls into her actual favourite spot in your apartment—anywhere that's between your legs.

Winter immediately goes to work—your sweatpants put up little fight against Winter's experienced fingers, repeating motions she's performed so many times before. She sets your cock free, sending it flicking out from the strained elastic of your waistband, and letting it stand tall directly in front of her lips.

"You're already so hard," Winter says, breathing onto your tip, "so hard just for me."

You've lost count by now the amount of times you've found yourself in this exact position, with Winter on her knees before you, yet you're still unable to hold back the inevitable sigh that escapes your lips when her fingers wrap themselves around your shaft once more.

It only takes a few slow, exploratory strokes of her hand around you for you to already start leaking for her—long gone are the days when she was haphazardly stroking and licking and sucking you, trying to figure out the best ways to make you go wild.

No—Winter doesn't even need to be paying much attention to your cock at all to know that each pump is bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Instead her eyes remain on you the whole time, never leaving yours.

"And to think you wanted to talk."

You hear a ghost of a laugh leave her lips before her tongue is upon you—first lapping up the pre-cum across the slit of your head, sending a spike of pleasure shooting straight up your spine and lighting your every nerve ending on fire.

Soon, she's pressing her tongue flat on your tip, taking her time to relish the feeling of your cock in her mouth. Of all the things Winter's gotten good at through your experiments, she's become excruciatingly adept at teasing you.

She's slow—making wide circles with her tongue around your head, holding your cock steady with one hand, and gripping into one of your trembling thighs with her other.

"Fuck, Winter," you groan, as she continues the circular motions of her tongue, bathing the head of your cock in a sheen of her drool, letting her saliva slide down your shaft.

She starts stroking you again, matching the timing of her hand with the swirls of her tongue around your head, pumping you in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Her pace is unbearable, enough to make your hips involuntarily buck off the couch, hopelessly trying to push your cock past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth.

But Winter keeps you down with a firm hand on your thigh and a tight grip around your cock—keeping you still, waiting for the exact moment when she knows you can't take it any longer, when you're close to breaking free from her hold and grabbing fistfuls of blonde hair and fucking her face as you please—and that's when she parts her pretty lips and opens up wide, pulling you into her wet, waiting mouth.

"Winter—" you gasp, as she seals her lips around the head of your cock, overloading your senses with waves of pleasure as your length pushes forward into the far reaches of her throat.

"Mmmm…" Winter moans around your cock, her lips vibrating around your shaft. She's still in no rush at all, bobbing her head up and down your length, each time getting a little closer to the base of your cock, repeatedly testing her own gag reflex.

Winter somehow manages to look so elegant in the way she makes a mess of herself for you—unashamedly sucking and slurping around your length, slobbering all over your cock, moaning in delight as she can feel you throb inside her mouth.

She keeps you sucking you down—tightening her lips, hollowing out her cheeks, making effort to swirl her tongue around your head each time she reaches the tip, and taking a beat to hold your cock against the back of her throat when she takes you back in.

It takes several tries, but Winter eventually is able to relax her throat enough to take your cock all the way into her mouth, kissing the tip of your cock with the back of her throat, and forcing a sound out of you that you had no idea you were even capable of making.

She stays like that—keeping your cock at the back of throat, smiling around your shaft while looking up at you, enjoying the strained expression on your face. Her tongue dares to dart out a little further, slipping out from her bottom lip and sliding it's way down to your balls, feeling their fullness.

Your hands move on their own volition, reaching out for something to hold onto just so you can withstand the intensity of Winter's throat just a little longer. Only Winter intercepts your hands, taking them into her own, and then guiding your fingers into her hair, handing each of your palms one of her carefully tied twin-tails.

You look down at her, at her eyes—watery, intense, intoxicating.

And then she winks.

She closes your fingers around her hair and lets go of your hands, and she has just enough time to brace herself on both of your thighs before you start to pull back, dragging her lips all the way up your cock.

She's made your length so wet and messy that even with her lips sealed tight around your shaft it's easy to slide her mouth up and off your cock. You take care as you tug back on her hair, but it's when you have your cockhead balancing on her bottom lip that you pull her back towards you, yanking her hair downwards and forcefully pushing your cock back into her mouth.

"Ungh!" Winter groans and gags around your cock as you push your way back into her throat.

There's no rest to be had as her lips kiss your base, and you pull her hair back the other way, sliding your cock out of her mouth once more, only to slam your hips forward and yank her hair downwards again, pulling her face back into your lap.

You quickly find your own rhythm—paying her back for her snail's pace before—adding your hips to the mix as you lift off the couch each time you bring her down on you, doing all you can to feed her more and more of your cock, to use her like she so badly wanted to be used.

To her credit she does her best to add to the pleasure you're taking from her mouth, using her tongue to lick and swirl and slobber, puckering her lips and sucking you harder, moaning barely intelligible sounds around you, letting you know that this is exactly what she wants.

You make effort to keep your eyes open, to keep your eyes on her—you need to see her, to see the ecstatic look on her face as you fuck her pretty mouth. This was all so new, like every previous blowjob she'd ever given you had been building up to this, to being allowed to wantonly plunge your cock and make her gag, force her to spit and drool and gurgle around your cock.

And despite all that, despite the fact that you're fucking her face with little abandon, she's still looking at you, her eyes wide, frenzied, and laser-focused on you—she may be the one on her knees being used, but it's more than clear to you that she's still in complete control.

“Mmmmmfff,” Winter moans as you increase your pace, pumping your cock faster and faster into her wet, needy mouth.

Spit starts to leak freely past her lips, tears start to streak down her cheek, her fingernails dig painfully into your thighs—but Winter doesn't show any sign of wanting to stop, she just takes and takes everything that you can give her.

It's too much, it's been too much for far too long, and you can feel that familiar sensation boiling up inside you, the pressure rising and rising, your every atom screaming at you to push your cock as far as it will go down Winter's hot throat and explode.

“Winter… I-I’m gonna cum.”

Winter suddenly takes over, pushing down on your thighs and lifting her head off your cock. You let her hair slip from your hands as her mouth leave your shaft, leaving behind a strand of saliva that bridges your cock to her lips.

Her hands quickly return back to your cock, wrapping her fingers around your shaft, picking up immediately from where her mouth had left off—feverishly stroking your shaft up and down.

"Do it," Winter says, "cum for me."

You sit upright, unable to move at all as Winter squeezes your entire length, pumping you in a corkscrew motion, determined to milk all the cum you had for her.

"Right here—give it to me—right here." Winter sticks out her tongue, giving your cock one last lick, aiming it directly at the back of her throat.

You give into her, unable to do anything but obey, as thick, white cum bursts from your cock, firing straight into her mouth. Winter keeps jerking you the whole time, swallowing down each shot that paints the inside of her mouth. She keeps licking, keeps flicking her tongue against your head, teasing out every last drop from you.

When you're done—when you’ve been absolutely drained—you collapse back into the couch. Winter follows after you, hands still wrapped around your length, kissing and licking your twitching cock, covering your shaft with her saliva, massaging your sack with her tongue.

You only have enough energy left to stroke Winter's hair while she takes care of your spent cock. She leaves playful kisses down your shaft, making sure to give equal attention to your balls.

Only once she’s properly serviced your cock does she swallow, gulping down your entire load in one go, and opening her mouth and presenting her clean tongue to you with an airy ‘ahhh’.

"God, Winter," is the most articulate thing you can manage to say. "Seriously—that was..."

"Not enough," Winter finishes your sentence, leaving more kisses against your thigh. “Come on—help me get ready."

What little breath you've managed to recover is taken from you again when Winter rises to her feet and stands before you, putting herself on display for you.

Winter sighs as you take hold of waist, pulling her body close enough to you that you can kiss into her abs. She inhales sharply as your lips meet her skin, causing her muscles to flex, making you feel the the firmness of her stomach.

Your hands move around to her ass, taking handfuls of her well-sculpted cheeks. You splay your fingers over her skirt, trying to fit as much of her rear into your palms as possible, but it's as your fingertips stretch closer to the centre of her ass that you find the solid base of her butt plug.

"Ahh!" You catch Winter off guard as you find the toy, and she reaches down for you, threading her fingers through your hair to steady herself against your face.

You smile, withdrawing your fingers from the plug—you'll address her ass in due time. Instead, you refocus on her abs, kissing and licking and marking her body.

"Lower," Winter hisses, as you extend your tongue out, leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of her abs, over her navel, and further south. It's when you reach the waistband of her skirt that you tighten your hold on her cheeks, holding Winter against you and spinning her around.

Winter yelps as you throw her onto the couch—it's a quick motion, you switch places with her so that she's lying flat beneath you and looking up at you, a wide grin plastered across her face.

It takes your every effort to resist taking her lips again—but you have more pressing matters to attend to. Instead, you place a scant peck on her forehead, then slide down the couch to take position between her long, slender legs.

You hook her left leg under your arm and raise her hips off the couch, allowing you to slot in a pillow underneath her lower back. When you place her back down her skirt flips upwards, exposing to you a pair of cute, cotton-white panties.

Winter lifts her hips for you, giving you space to roll her panties up her thighs. You take her other leg, bringing her legs up high enough that you can dip your head between them, bringing you face to face with Winter's bare pussy, glistening wet with anticipation.

It's as enticing as the rest of her—cleanly shaven, thin-lipped, and so mouth-watering. Being this close to it—to it's scent, it's heat—it pulls you in like a magnet, and you fall tongue-first into Winter's pussy.

If it was love at first sight with Winter, it was definitely love at first taste with her pussy. Hers was something you could never tire of—the flavour of her nectar on your tongue, the noises she made at the brush of your lips, how wet she got for you.

You only try a few courteous licks, running your tongue over her folds to sample their slightly-sweet, slightly-bitter taste, but whether from her prior efforts to tempt you, or the sheer pleasure she got from sucking your cock—she's already far more aroused than you expected.

There's no more time to be wasted, her clit is already ripe and exposed—an easy target for your tongue.

"Oh—oh, yes," Winter sighs as you reintroduce your tongue to her swollen clit. You start to draw small circles around her clit, listening as her moans rise in pitch the faster your hungry tongue moves around her.

Winter can't help herself—she squeezes her thighs on either side of your head, locking her ankles behind your neck and pulling you in, desperate to grind herself against your tongue.

You answer her by taking hold of her thighs, helping her to raise her hips to keep her pussy flush against your mouth. You lay your tongue flat against her folds, sealing your lips around her clit, and slowly, sloppily, you begin to suck.

"God—“ Winter cries out, "God, that feels so good!"

You grin around her clit, relishing the sound of her pleased whines in your ears. She tries again to rock her hips against you, to provoke you into slurping down her pussy faster, but you hold her still by her legs, keeping the pace of your lips and tongue around her engorged clit.

Each lick gets her wetter, each pursing of your lips against her slick, soaking wet pussy takes her deep breaths to pleased sighs, to small whimpers, and to full throaty moans that echo off the walls of your living room. You kiss her, lick her all over her wetness, drinking down her juices like you're dying of thirst.

"Yes—yes—eat me so good!"

Winter wildly reaches for you, returning her fingers to your hair as she tries to translate just how good you’re making her feel. Her nails dig into your scalp, but you ignore the pain—you don't even care, it only spurs you to lick faster, to suck on her clit more urgently, swiping up and down with your tongue and lathering her slickness with your saliva

"Ah—ah—yes—your tongue—so—FUCK!"

She pulls you by your hair, forcing you deeper into her, staining your mouth, your lips, your chin, with her sweet honey. She's trembling before you now, her hips buck and twitch and spread her wetness over your face.

"Yes—yes—yes, yes, yes—" Winter repeats her new mantra, each word becoming shorter, harder to get out.

Her eyes shut, as if lost in a blissful dream, and soon even the simple words she was moaning become unintelligible babble—just a mix of moans and gasps and cries and your name.

"Ah—ah—ah—don’t stop—keep going—you’re making me feel so—"

You can feel it—feel it in the way she starts to spasm against your lips, the way her hips shake, the way her entire body tenses around you, the way she smothers you with her hot, dripping pussy.

Your tongue is starting to ache but you push through—there's nothing in this world that could stop you from licking, from sucking, until—

"So good—so good—yes—right there—OH!"

Winter's climax comes crashing down on her, pushing her body over the edge and losing herself to the throes of her own orgasm. She holds you tight, threatening to suffocate you in her cunt, letting her juices freely flow out from her and into your mouth, drowning you in her nectar.

And then, in a loud, throaty declaration of her own joy, she cries out your name a final time as she cums. You stop your licking—you just keep your lips sealed around her, holding her up by her thighs and leaving her to quiver and quake against your mouth as she lets her orgasm wash over her.

When she's done falling apart and her legs let go of your head, you carefully let her down, gently laying her back onto the couch, and you slip out from between her thighs.

Winter rolls onto her side, holding herself as she tries to recover from the shattering orgasm she just experienced, and incidentally gives you your first true glimpse of the toy nestled inside her ass.

The plug is simple, discreet—a grey colour, made of what you presume is silicone. The base of it is glimmering under the light, bathed generously in the juices that had leaked out of her pussy and down your chin.

You can't resist—even though she's still out of breath and barely cognizant—you take a hold of the toy, testing it and giving it an investigative tug. You're immediately answered with a gasp from Winter, her eyes snapping open as you pull. The toy itself doesn't even budge, so firmly stuck within her asshole, refusing to let go of the plug.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Yes—God yes," Winter says. She rolls onto her stomach, positioning her belly on the cushion beneath her and tilting her hips upwards, pointing her ass directly up at you. "Keep going. Pull it out."

You nod—not that she sees—and take it even slower, tugging back on the plug and pulling it out of her asshole.

Winter moans as it stretches her, as it forces her back entrance to widen as the widest part of the toy is pulled out from her ass, until finally, the whole toy slips out with a small 'pop'.

You place the plug down next to her backpack and return to Winter's ass. You've always been so enamoured with her ass—while not as big or shapely as others, it was so tight, so firm, so perfect.

You bend forward, leaning in to plant a kiss on her left cheek, and then her right, showing your appreciation for her backside. You dare to place more kisses closer and closer to the space between, feeling the rise of goose-bumps against your lips, until your face is between Winter's cheeks.

You take a hold of her supple ass, spreading her cheeks apart with your hands, and getting your first proper look at her asshole. You can't resist testing it with your finger, tracing around the rim of her rosebud-pink hole—the one spot of colour in contrast to her pure vanilla-white skin.

It seemed unbelievable to imagine that it just had a butt plug inside it, it looks so tiny, so tight, like it would barely fit anything larger than your pinky—or your tongue.

You decide to test out your theory, leaning forward, dipping your tongue down and reaching for her asshole.

"Oh!" Winter gasps, taken by surprise at the sudden sensation of your tongue against her rim.

You should've know that even here she would taste delightful—she’s clearly prepared herself for this—you're treated to the taste of the lavender body wash that she kept stashed away in your apartment, mixed in with the tang of sweat on her skin.

"God, that feels so, so—" Winter says, her voice a chain of airy gasps and moans, "so nice.”

You stiffen your tongue and push into her tiny opening as far as it can go. The butt plug had done some work to loosen her tight little hole, but it still resisted you, still required you to keep poking and pushing at her until it finally gave way.

Winter groans as the tip of your tongue enters her, and you get to work licking and kissing at her entrance, making every effort to get her ass as wet and ready as possible for you.

You give her ass the worshipping it deserves—treating it like a delicacy, enthusiastically licking between her cheeks, relishing the way her rear entrance tightens and flexes against your eager tongue.

Even after months of pleasuring Winter in all the ways you thought possible, getting to try something new is as much of a treat for you as it is for her. Discovering the fact that she liked having her ass treated like this so much was far greater a reward than any you could ever ask.

You shift to the side, fitting your hand between her legs. You reach for her pussy, running your fingers over her folds and around her glistening lips. She's so slick and juicy, dripping with a never-ending wetness that coats your fingers, allowing to use her own nectar to lubricate your digits.

You press your finger against her folds, using her soaking wetness to your advantage, using it to slide inside her, penetrating her pussy.

Winter shudders as you push your finger inside her, and she gasps again as you angle your finger downwards and invade her pussy. For as wet as she is, she's still so tight around you, her warm walls surrounding your finger, her muscles flexing against you.

"Oh, that's it."

A satisfied sigh leaves her lips as your finger finds that rough spot at the roof of her pussy, and you begin massaging her most sensitive spot in sync with your tonguing of her ass.

Adding a second finger still takes a bit of an effort, but the moan Winter lets out as you stretch her out even more makes it all worth it.

"Oh, oh, right there—keep going," Winter sighs, unable to contain herself from the non-stop stimulation you're making her experience—the loving, tonguing of her ass, the gentle, rhythmic penetration of your fingers. It never mattered how you pleased Winter—with your lips, your tongue, your finger, your cock—all that she ever cared about was that you were touching her.

She moans your name over and over—her her toes curl underneath her, her fingers claw at the couch cushions below, but you don't stop your licking, don't stop your finger-fucking. No matter how wildly she shakes or how frantically she cries out—you focus entirely on making her feel good.

From the way she moans, and the way her juices run down your fingers and spill onto her thighs, you can tell she's getting close again. But just as you can feel her reach the crest of her second orgasm you suddenly stop, sliding your fingers out of her pussy and planting a final kiss against her ass

"No—" Winter whines as your lips leave her. She reaches behind her, stretching back and trying to pull you back into her ass.

But instead you stop her, grabbing her wrist before she can capture yours, and you ask—"I don't suppose you brought lube?"

Winter doesn't bother with words, she's barely managing to breathe steadily, she just lazily gestures with her hand in the direction of her backpack.

You leave Winter to recover as you find the small tube inside, and you flip open the cap and squeeze a liberal amount of the cool gel onto your finger. You move back between her legs, squeezing an equally generous amount between her cheeks, causing her to quiver as she feels the coldness of the lube slide between her cheeks.

"Gahh!" Winter yelps in surprise as you press on her button and start to push your finger into her asshole. You let the lube do it's work, to help you ease your way into her ass, to slide past the strong resistance of her hole.

When you're sure she's adjusted to your first finger, you add your second, pushing inside her and stretching out her tight ring.

You take your time, giving her a break to prepare herself, before you slowly start pushing your fingers in and out of her ass—reaching deeper each time, gradually letting her ass adjust to the thickness of your fingers.

Winter's a quick study—she's testing her own ass against you soon enough, pushing back against your hand, wriggling her hips around you, experimenting with the clenching of her muscles in an attempt to loosen her hole to be able to fit more.

You exist like that for several precious minutes—Winter working her ass back and forth on your fingers, readying herself on your digits, helping prepare her ass for you.

It's as your knuckle deep inside her ass that you hear Winter take a deep breath, and say, "I think—I think I'm ready."

You pause, stopping your fingering of her ass, and try to speak, only to find your voice hoarse. "Are you sure?"

Winter turns herself on her side, giving her space to look over her shoulder and back at you. She reaches for your other hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Of course I am. I trust you."

"Tell me if you want me to stop," you say, and you squeeze her hand back.

"Have I ever?" Winter asks, and she lets go of your hand, turning back and away from you, lying prone on the couch, eagerly pushing her ass back against your fingers.

Winter whimpers as you slide your fingers out of her well-lubricated ass, sighing at having her asshole empty once more. You take a hold of your own shaft, now returned to it's full measure, already throbbing in your own hand, well and truly ready for Winter.

You take a long inhale as you move closer to Winter, lining yourself up with her body and pressing your cock up against her tight, waiting asshole. Slowly—achingly slow—you push your hips forward, letting her entrance give way to the thick head of your cock, until finally, you're entering Winter's ass for the first time.

A long, drawn-out breath is pushed out of her as she does her best to relax herself around you, trying to fit your engorged cock inside her tiny, little hole. She buries her face into the couch, fingers gripping tightly into the cushions, but you keep steady, gradually feeding your cock to her asshole inch by thick inch.

Everything about Winter is so tight, so hot, there's no reason for her ass to be any different—only this time the intensity is turned all the way up. It's in the way the ring of her asshole fights you, stretches around you, clenching and squeezing your entire length with such an unbearably strong grip that you're almost afraid that you're going to cum right then and there.

And then eventually, after an eternity of gasping, pushing, stretching—your cock is entirely inside Winter's ass.

"Ahhh!"

"Can you keep going?"

"Mm-hmm."

Even though you've only just entered her ass, you already need to take a break—the sheer sensation of her asshole around your cock has you on edge. Winter seems to agree with the sentiment, echoing your own deep breaths, panting just as hard as you are.

Your eyes drift down to her asshole—the last of her virginity—somehow impossibly stretched around your thickness. It's an overwhelming sight—seeing your every inch buried inside what was a tiny hole before—but somehow, she’s taken it all.

"Winter!" you groan involuntarily as she shifts beneath you, her ass clenching suddenly and pulsating around you. Of all the experiments you had done before, this was by far the most intense.

"So big… so fucking big inside me…" Winter murmurs to herself, her breathing reduced to short huffs as she comes to terms with the feeling of being properly filled. "Please—give me more."

You’re careful as you pull back out of her, letting your cock slip out half way before you push back in. You take it slow, take her ass as gently as you can, feeling the incredible tightness of her asshole clenching around every inch of you.

It's slow, and surprisingly loving for anal sex, the way you hold her, caress her, reassure her with each stroke. It's an impossible task to remain so patient inside her, fucking her ass with short, deliberate strokes, but you're met with your reward when Winter herself starts pushing back onto your cock.

"Your cock feels so—so…" Winter's muscles squeeze down around your cock again, as she groans out her next word—"unbelievable."

A strangled grunt escapes your lips as the sensation of Winter's perfect ass seizing your cock sends ripples through your body. You can hear the loud drumming of your heartbeat in your ear, only to be overpowered by another squeeze and push of Winter's ass back against you.

As intense and all consuming the feeling of it was, you somehow manage to collect your senses, and soon, you start to match the urging of her ass. Your strokes get longer, your thrusts harder, intent on making her feel every inch of you inside her tight passage.

"Again," Winter pleads, as your hips meet hers, and the clapping of your skin against skin bounces across the room.

You repeat the motion, pulling back a little further, taking a beat, and then pushing right back in—faster, harder, rougher.

"Again."

You keep going, upping the ante each time, each thrust faster than the one before it, each one answered with a different mewl or moan from Winter. You take note of each sigh, each dirty word that slips from her lips, doing everything you can to maximise the pleasure you can make her feel.

"Again!"

You maintain your steady rhythm, only now you’re thrusting deeply each time, filling her ass with all of your cock every time you enter her, rocking her entire body as your hips meet hers, making her cheeks jiggle as you pump your length into her.

You don't know what it is exactly, but having Winter, so prone before you, so willingly letting you use her ass, so happily begging for more, sparks something inside you. The side of you that wants to dominate, that wants to use the young idol.

"You like having my cock inside your ass?" You ask.

"Mmmmm," Winter moans her reply, as if your words alone have an affect on her. "I love it."

A wicked thought crosses your mind, and you continue your questioning. "This isn't going to be the only time is it, Winter? You're gonna let me fuck your ass again, aren't you?"

"Yes," Winter replies, so eager, so desperate to obey. "I'll give it to you again—I'll give it to you wherever, whenever you want."

"Of course you will, cause this ass—" you start, punctuating your point with a hard thrust into her, "This tight fucking ass is mine now."

"Ohhh," she cries as you keep giving her the cock she loves so much. "Ah yes—yes—it's yours. Just—just promise. Promise me—"

"Promise you what?" You ask. You bend down, leaning close enough to kiss her neck, close enough to drink in the scent of her hair, the taste of her sweat, the sight of her perfect face—screwed up and clenching tight in undeniable ecstasy.

"Promise me you'll fuck me hard… Fuck my ass as hard as you can—use me, please and—" Winter gasps as she feels your cock throb inside her. "Fill me."

Her words inspire you, they flick that switch inside of you—any illusion of making sweet, passionate love to Winter disappears—now was the time to fuck her senseless.

Your back straightens, your grip tightens on her ass, and you pull back until you’ve almost exited her completely.

A mere second passes—that’s all you need to ready yourself. You slam your hips forward, crashing into her, planting yourself inside her, totally impaling Winter’s precious ass with your cock.

"YES!"

There's no holding back anymore—you fuck Winter hard.

You take as much liberty with her ass as you have with her throat and her pussy, pounding it just as hard, just as fast, using it just as roughly. After all, it belonged to you.

Yet she feels far tighter than she ever could with her other holes, she even moans louder than she ever had before.

You feel it too—the unreal feeling of her asshole choking your cock, of filling her and stretching her so completely. Fucking her ass is like a drug, each time you draw out your cock every fibre of your being screams at you to dive straight back in, to return to the blissful pleasure of her asshole.

You plunge in and out of her, taking her ass at a speed that you know you can't possibly maintain, but feels far too good to slow down.

Winter has enough awareness to slip a hand between her legs, finding her own cunt, roughly drawing small circles around her swollen clit with no apparent rhythm or speed—just doing everything she can to reach an even higher peak of euphoria.

"Oh! Yes! Fuck!" Winter's shouting now, each thrust fucking out of her a new declaration of joy, a new stream of filth from her mouth. "Fuck me—fuck my ass—just—like—that—please!"

Seeing Winter like this—someone so beautiful, so pure—reduced to such a shameless mess as she’s so relentlessly fucked in the ass—it's simply the nastiest, hottest thing you've ever seen.

You keep going, keep fucking, each time pulling back until only your head was trapped by her hot, tight ring, before thrusting all the way back into her until your balls are slapping against her dripping folds.

She arches her back, raising her head to cry out, to scream your name, to scream for—"more!"

With her back arched towards you, you reach out and grab her by her hair, now loosened from their ties and left a long, silky mess of blonde draped down her back.

"Ahhh—fuck. Just like that. Pull my hair, use it to fuck my ass." Winter grits her teeth, using her words to drive you to fuck her even harder and faster than you already were. "Harder—please oppa! I'm almost there—I'm so fucking close!"

You give her everything—you fuck her with hard, rough thrusts, filling her like your life depended on it, giving it to her as fast and deep as she demanded of you. Her fingers endlessly work on her clit, the sounds of her sloshing mixing in with the wetness of your fucking, the slapping of skin against skin, and the echoing of your blended moans around the room.

"Fuck—yes—baby—honey—oppa—PLEASE!"

You can feel it—can feel your own orgasm hurtling closer and closer—and in a strange moment of clarity you realise it's going to be like nothing you've ever felt before.

Winter seems to realise the same, bucking her hips back against you harder, playing with her clit faster, doing everything she can to bring you closer and closer to completely undoing her.

"Oh fuck!" Winter hisses, letting herself go, savouring the last few moments of your fucking, now wanting—needing—only one thing. "Oppa—please—GOD you're making me—"

You fall together—not you holding back so she can come first, not her demanding you fill her ass now—it's together, with your hands pulling at her hair and her lips screaming out your name, declaring her body—her ass— as yours.

Her hips kiss yours, burying your cock entirely inside her ass, and you hear her cry out as your bodies crash together one final time.

It hits you in waves as you burst inside of her unbearably tight ass—shot after shot after shot of thick, heavy white cum spills out of your cock and floods into Winter. Seconds stretch out into eternities spent inside Winter's tight, shaking body, pushing back against you in the throes of her own orgasm.

"So fucking good—so—so—so—FUH—"

Winter moans and writhes and cums beneath you, endlessly trembling and twitching all the while her hot, clenching ass squeezes and pulses and milks every last drop of semen you have left. Your vision blurs and your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you barely have enough awareness to register that you're cumming far more, far harder, far longer than you've ever had before.

Your bodies dissolve into messy puddles of bliss, quivering as you come down from the high of being lost in each other—of being lost together.

Some instinct—or habit that's formed over the past few months—takes over, and you both move in sync as your senses return. You roll to the side and off Winter's body, your cock audibly popping out of her grasping asshole, accompanied by a pleading whimper from her lips as you finally exit her. You can feel the rush of hot, creamy cum that follows—running out of her hole and down her ass cheek, flowing down her leg and onto the couch cushions beneath the two of you.

When the light-headedness fades and your mind regains it's ability to comprehend the world outside of Winter's ass, you come to find Winter has turned into your arms, nestled in your embrace and hugging tightly to you, kissing into your chest.

It's a pure, beautiful moment, somehow feeling so right despite all the passionate, filthy things that you had just done to her—to each other.

You look down to check on her, but find yourself unable to see much past the mess of blonde hair, save for a smile on her lips as she rests her head against you.

"Winter?" You whisper.

"Give me a minute," she hums into your chest, so comfortably cuddled against you. "This was just so—fuck. So fucking good."

It's not only her that can't find the right words to say—to aptly describe the high of feeling her lips against your skin, of feeling Winter wrapped up in your embrace. "Yeah, I know."

She squirms uncomfortably as she stretches out her once tense muscles, and mumbles, "maybe this was a bad idea…"

You nearly leap off the couch, "what do you—"

Winter laughs, a pretty sound that instantly puts your mind at ease. She tilts her head up to finally meet your gaze, her eyes glimmering with delight—so, so satisfied. "No, not like that. I have to perform tomorrow. I think dancing might be out of the question. Actually, I think walking might be too."

You don't bother hiding the grin from your face, and you hear a familiar set of trumpets triumphantly sounding off in the distance.

Winter lifts her hand, cupping your face, tracing your cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. The smile slips off her face, but her eyes still remain alight—so tender in her gaze, so reaffirming of all the reasons you've fallen for her so hard. "I'm sorry."

You lean into her hand, asking back, "for what?"

"I know—I understand how you feel. This is all just so… new to me." There's vulnerability in the way she looks at you, in her voice, like she's saying things she's never said before—never imagined saying. "I'm afraid."

It's a reflex to tighten your hold around her, to draw her deeper into your hug to make her feel okay.

"What happens when our experiments are over? Our relationship was based on sex. What if that's all there is to us?" She asks, each word taking slightly more effort for her to say than the one before.

"Winter," you say, so naturally filling her name with such affection, as if there was no other way you could speak it. "I'm in this for you. Not just the sex. "

You can see it in the way her cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red, in how her eyes sparkle just that little bit shinier, and her smile returns and she kisses you, sighing your own name onto your lips. Yet, she still needs to correct you—"I think you mean the mind-blowingly good sex."

You mirror her, matching her grin for grin. "Yes, I'm not in this for just the mind-blowingly good sex. It's always been you. And if you're not comfortable putting a label on it—that's okay. I need you to know that for me it's only you."

She's blushing harder, hard enough to make the last of her walls melt down, and she's kissing you again, peppering your cheeks, your jaw. "We… we can put a label on it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Winter says, resolutely deciding for the both of you. "You're my… fellow scientist."

You raise an eyebrow at that, amused by her choice of words. "Scientist? Is that all?"

"And… my teacher. And student…" Winter scrunches up her face, as the words come to her bit by bit—the things that are impossible to sum up with just language alone, but she still tries. "And… the person I get to hug and hold and have mind-blowingly good sex with."

"Winter—"

Winter stops you before you can interrupt—as the apple falls from the tree and she has her moment of eureka. She's smiling and laughing and she's finally found the conclusion at the end of all your experiments. "You're mine."

And you repeat it back to her—because it's true, and because she's perfect. "And you're mine too, Winter."

#kpop smut #aespa smut #winter smut #male reader

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feyhunter78 · 8 months

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kinktober request: 2, 12, 22, 24, & 31 with miguel? sorry there’s so many but i just had the idea of a college!au where reader goes to a halloween party and miguel goes, too, because they’re kind of friends (maybe miguel always thought she was cute but then he tutored her for a class and they started to become close as a result?) & he likes her and wants to make sure she’s safe but reader has a mask kink & also has a huge crush on him so she finds it super hard to be around him when he’s wearing his costume and spends most of the night hiding from him & eventually he corners her and finds out why she’s been running & shenanigans ensue 👀

This was such a cute and fun idea!!!! I am making a new rule though, y'all can only request 3 or fewer numbers bc I'm not, and I did not fit all those into a one-shot💀 (I did throw in a hint of breeding kink at the end there for you though nonnie)

Meg's Kinktober - College!Miguel + #12, 18, 24 Mask kink, AU & Costume/Lingerie

You like Miguel, you’ve always liked Miguel, since the day your chemistry professor suggested Miguel tutor you. Dr. Alice was a romantic at heart, you swear, or maybe she saw you staring dreamily at the back of Miguel’s head instead of paying attention to her lectures. Either way, your grades improved, but your hopeless crush on Miguel did not.

You can’t say you regret coming to your best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate’s costume party, but you don’t not regret it. You’re having a fun time, you look hot, the music surprisingly doesn’t suck, there are snacks, and the drinks don’t have an overwhelming taste of alcohol that chokes you with every sip. But Miguel is here. You didn’t even know he knew Josh, and yet there he was, dressed as Spiderman. The mask attached to his costume is off at the moment, hanging from the back of his neck, which gives you at least a bit of relief.

He spots you, smiles and waves, making his way over to you. You hold your red solo cup tighter, painting on a smile and preparing yourself for Miguel to tower over you as he talks about something…usually you lose track of what he’s saying and just stare into his eyes.

“Y/N, nice costume, sexy vampire, a classic.” His eyes drag up your figure in a way that surprisingly doesn’t feel gross? It’s like he’s admiring you, not sizing you up or undressing you with his eyes.

“You know me, I love a classic costume.” Also, it was cheap and easy, your favorite kind of costume.

“Classic costume for a classic lady, I like it.” He says. His hands are covered by his costume, it’s a bodysuit, you can tell that now, see every outline of his abs and biceps. You dare not trail your eyes lower, already feeling your face heat up.

“And you went for Spiderman, like every other guy at this party.” You say, taking a sip of your drink for courage.

He smiles sheepishly. “Guess the movie was pretty popular.”

“Guess so.” You echo, wishing your best friend would come and drag you away before you burst into flames.

“Wait, you haven’t even seen the full thing yet.” He smiles, it’s charming, excited, devastatingly handsome, then he pulls the mask over his face.

You freeze, staring up at him, trying to swallow, but your throat is as dry as the Sahara. Taking a long swig of your drink, you clear your throat and nod. “Looks great, I like it.”

“It’s pretty cool, huh?” Miguel asks, flexing and posing in a bunch of obnoxious ways that make you laugh to keep him from noticing how your eyes follow the lines of his muscles hungrily.

“I—I have to go find my friend; I’ll see you later, Miguel.” You tell him, before dashing off, frantically searching for your best friend, so you can scream about how hot Miguel is, and how you’re going to die if you don’t leave right now.

You finally find her, and she calms you down, gets you another drink, ropes you into playing some random drinking game, sufficiently distracts you until she’s pulled away by her boyfriend. Then you’re alone, acting like a crazy person, dodging Miguel, hiding from him, and flat out acting like you don’t hear him calling your name.

It’s after you come out of the bathroom—all the drinks and snacks really ate at your dark lipstick—that he finds you.

The hallway is dark, a small nightlight at the end, multicolored lights from the party at the other. It’s quieter here, the music a bit muffled, no one screaming or talking.

“Found you.” He says that stupid mask still on, his arms caging you in, your back to the wall.

“Hey Miguel.” You say awkwardly, smiling up at him as you try to figure out a way to escape him.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, cariño, thought you might’ve gone home.”

You shake your head. “Me? No, I’m a certified party girl.”

You can’t see his face, but you know he’s giving you that look, the one that means he knows you’re lying.

“So why haven’t I seen you around then?” He asks, his voice has a slight rasp to it, you assume from yelling over the music to be heard.

“I’ve just been busy, visiting with other people.”

He dips his head down. “Too busy for me? I’m hurt.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Mr. Popular, I’m sure you were standing in the corner all by your lonesome because you couldn’t find me.”

“All the corners were taken, too many people making out.” He says flippantly, humor coloring his tone.

“That’s too bad, I was meaning to go stand in one like a creep later.” You joke, relaxing slightly when Miguel lets one arm drop from the wall to adjust his mask.

“We could share one?” Miguel offers.

“Then we’d have to make out. Come on Miguel, it’s like a rule, and I don’t think either of us want to do tha—”

Miguel’s free hand tilting your chin up stops you.

You look at his eyes, or where his eyes should be, behind the mask. “Miguel?”

“Who said I didn’t want to kiss you?” He says, voice low, soft, heated.

It sends a shiver down your spine, heat pulsing down to your core, and you blink owlishly at him. “Oh, I just thought, um…”

He pushes the mask up, only enough to expose the lower half of his face, and leans further down ghosting his lips over yours. “You just thought what? That I wouldn’t want to kiss you, that I don’t dream of hearing my name fall from your lips as I feel every inch of you with my hands, with my tongue if I’m lucky?”

He looks so good, the red of his mask highlighting the vibrancy of his tanned skin, his muscles so clearly defined by the skintight fabric.

“No, I didn’t think you did.” You admit breathlessly, tilting your head even further up to meet his lips.

It’s an explosion, a dance, a drug, and you want more. You loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

Miguel responds in kind, his large hands grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up, foot nudging the bathroom door open.

It’s even quieter in here, and you can hear the sound of the lock being turned, before Miguel’s lips descend down your neck. He sets you on the sink, cool marble against your skin, one hand groping your breasts, the other slipping between your legs to toy with your clit, his teeth nipping at your throat.

“I thought I was the vampire.” You joke weakly, eyes fluttering shut when Miguel yanks your legs further apart, slotting himself between them, his cock hard against you.

“You can be whatever you want as long as I can be inside you.” He groans, his skilled fingers tugging at your nipples, twisting, plucking, brushing until you’re squirming against him.

“Okay, okay, yeah, fuck me, please Miguel.” You say, your hands anchoring themselves on his suit, fingers digging into the stretchy material.

He moves to rip off his mask, but you stop him.

“Leave it on.” You tell him quietly, core throbbing as he watches you, a smile toying at his lips.

Finally, he laughs and tugs the mask back in place. “Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Oh, is now not the right time to reveal I’m actually a chemistry genius?” You’re trying to be funny, trying to tease him, but it’s hard when the sound of his zipper is accompanied by a low groan and the feeling of his cock sliding past your entrance.

“You’re a genius chemist?” Miguel asks, his tone far more joking than yours as he slides fully in, his free hand on your lower back pushing you closer to him, ensuring you take every inch.

“Yeah, won prizes and everything.” You say, gasping when the tip of his cock brushes against your sensitive spot, your walls fluttering around him.

“Smart girl.” He says, before he pulls out and slams back in, wrapping your legs around his back, and slotting his lips against your own.

You melt into him, letting him fuck you rapid fire, thick cock dragging against your walls, tip bullying your sensitive spot, his tongue searching every inch of you, as his hands hold you in place.

“You’re so pretty, y/n, I’ve wanted this for so long.” Miguel’s voice is low, words breathed against your lips, moaned into your mouth. “Wanted to take you in the fucking lab, in your apartment, in the library.”

“The library?” You’re half horrified, half intrigued.

He shifts his hips, pushing you further against the mirror, his fingers back on your clit making you see stars. “Yeah, wanted to bend you over the table in the study rooms, keep my hand over your mouth so no one hears you. Maybe make you try some calculations with me between your legs, tongue stuffed in that pretty pussy of yours while you try to keep a straight face. Don’t want anyone to walk in on us, right?”

You moan at the images he’s placing in your mind, the adrenaline of keeping quiet, of biting your lip while Miguel eats you out like a five-course meal, rushing through your veins. “No, no, don’t want anyone to walk in.”

Miguel chuckles against your lips. “No, you’re too much of a goody two shoes for that, huh? My good little girl, letting me fuck you in the bathroom. Gonna let me eat you out? Finger you during lab while the TA’s not looking?”

“That would be so unsanitary.” You tell him, hips moving in time with his, chest heaving as the coil within you winds tighter and tighter, your skin scattered with pleasure, your mind turning to mush when Miguel bites down on your pulse point.

“You’re right, plus I don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, I want to be the only one seeing how pretty you look before you come, only one getting to hear you moan for me.” Miguel says all this so easily, not even breaking his stride as his hand shoots out, slams against the mirror, giving himself stability to piston into you.

You cling to him, head tucked into the crook of his neck, moaning and mewling for him, his name a constant chant on your lips.

“That’s it cariño, come for me, scream my name, let this whole party know who’s fucking you.” He urges, a renewed fervor in his thrusts in the way his lips attach to your neck, marking it with dark hickeys.

And you do, you finish hard, screaming his name, the sound barely muffled by his neck. Miguel finishes afterwards, pulling out and stroking himself, cum splattering in the sink. He turns the facet on quickly, and you make a face.

“You’d rather that go in you?” He asks, free hand pulling off the mask, his eyes searching yours.

You slide off the sink, legs wobbly, your hand shooting out to grab Miguel’s bicep for support. “Maybe.”

His eyes darken and he turns off the faucet. “Yeah? You up for a round two?”

Kinktober masterlist

Miguel TL: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #meg's kinktober #kinktober 2023 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #minors dni #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #college!au #college!miguel #college!reader #mask kink #imma be so honest with y'all I do not like how this one turned out #I think I'm getting a bit smutted out

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