#i do like the outline so far!! there’s a few things that I need to figure out how they fit in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writerpetals · 1 day

Text

all you have to do is ask | ❤️

; optional male lead fluff | ☁️

He’s the cutest when he smiles. Your heart feels as if it will pound right out of your chest when you’re the reason for his grin flashed your way in the middle of studying the outline of the report you’re writing up while staring at a blinding screen for far too long. He chuckles any time you make a simple mistake, and his eyes wrinkle and his nose scrunches before he corrects your error with a soft tone and more patience than you ever expected.

He’s not your boss, and not even the supervisor of the department, but he has been in charge of helping new hires at the office you began working at a few months prior. Though, what should have been only a week of getting you settled in and set up with your workload, tasks, and anything else the head of the department likes to throw on his workers last minute has turned into him keeping a close eye on you in case you need a little extra assistance.

“Just until you get the hang of things,” he promises, but by now you have a hard time believing it, and even sometimes you find yourself hoping it’s just an excuse to get closer to you.

You should feel a bit embarrassed he’s always coming to your aid when you forget an attachment or pointing out corrections before your supervisor notices, but it’s hard to turn away his help when his smiles make your heart flutter and his kindness makes it so easy to play the part of clumsy or forget new employee.

“Did you remember to e-mail the updates on your latest report?” he asks while walking past your desk to make his way to the copy machine, a stack of papers in hand and a grin on his lips because he already knows the answer. “It’s important!”

“I, uh, I’ll get right on that!” you inform him, immediately clicking away to pull up your contacts on your computer as the heat rushes to your face for being so forgetful. “Thanks!”

You hear his chuckle even after he’s passed, but you’re thankful he’s observant enough to keep you in line, wondering if he’s the same way with all of your other co-workers. Maybe you’re too anxious over making sure you don’t make another mistake he won’t manage to catch, but part of you wishes he isn’t just being nice and helpful to the newest employee.

“Here, let me get that!” he says, rushing to your side two days later when you have managed to jam the only printer on your entire floor. You step aside, the warmth of embarrassment flooding your cheeks as he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work un-sticking the mess of paper you’ve somehow made.

“Thanks,” you say with a voice so quiet he almost misses it. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I try my best,” he teases, grin wide as ever and your body feeling tingling all over from the sight of him.

A few weeks pass and you try to handle things on your own, however. Even if you enjoy his help every now and then, you do want to try your best so you don’t end up getting under his skin for his niceness to wear off. You also don’t want it to get around that you’re more trouble than you’re worth, so you leave post-its stuck to your monitor with reminders for all the attachments and e-mails you need to send, scribble down important times and dates of meetings and deadlines on the calendar resting over your desk, and even finish your latest report a day ahead of schedule.

You feel the pride swarming in your chest after a while, and even if you admit that you miss his visits to your desk to check up on you as well as spotting his soft smile or hearing his light-hearted chuckle, it’s nice to feel like you’re not so new and trying to get a grip on even simple tasks. You begin to feel like a member of the team, working hard to please your supervisor, and you even get a quick “good job” from your boss before leaving one afternoon.

Though, the confidence doesn’t last long when you sit down at your desk one morning to prepare to send the latest report to your supervisor, only to find the document wiped clean with no trace of a copy in an existing folder, and no signs of it accidentally being deleted in the recycle bin. Your heart sinks, wide eyes staring at the screen for a few moments as you click away to check every occupied space in your hard drive, stomach twisting as the seconds pass and the report you spent a week working hard on is nowhere to be found. You gulp, and close the document, only to open it once again, spotting a white page with a blinking cursor ready to begin typing.

You feel as if the air has been sucked from your lungs, knowing you trashed your notes the day before when you thought the report was ready to be sent. How could this happen? How could you be so careless? The doubts flood you over and over as you continue to stare at the screen with a furrowed brow and slacked jaw.

It’s not until he walks past do you pull yourself from your trance, hearing your name being called in what sounds like a muffled voice once, twice, and three times until you finally snap your gaze in his direction.

“Everything okay?” he asks, curious and concerned and when you don’t reply, he takes a step closer to press his hands to the desk. “What’s wrong?”

Your heart sinks even lower. You were doing so well. You were getting the hang of things, and now the report is gone and due in a day and you have no notes to start over.

“Yes,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, forcing a smile that his frown insists he doesn’t believe. “Yes, yeah, yup! I… I’m great!” Nervous laughter falls from your lips to have him wrinkling his brow, but he doesn’t push the issue.

“Alright, well, if you need anything…”

“Got it! Thanks.” Your fake smile widens and he hesitates for a moment before walking away.

You can fix this, you tell yourself, trying to calm your nerves while you reach for the small garbage bin next to your desk in hopes that there are a few notes scribbled on paper you tossed the night before. But of course, the trash is always emptied Wednesday nights and there’s a fresh bag greeting you when you look inside.

Huffing, you slump down in your chair, considering spending your morning looking for new jobs because you just know when your report hasn’t arrived by the following morning your boss is going to fire you. Just when you were getting decent paychecks, saving up for a new place to live, planning to get away from your annoying, messy roommate you try to avoid at all costs and hey, maybe even buy yourself a new pair of heels while you’re at it.

You can’t help but to groan as your head falls to your hands, mentally saying bye bye to that apartment with the view you had your heart set on, immediately feeling sorry for yourself until his words replay in your mind. You know you could ask him for help, but how could he even fix your mistake? Your report is missing, your notes are trashed, and there’s a possibility if you involve him, he could get disciplined for your mistake as well. The last thing you want to do is get the sweet, helpful guy that assisted you more times than you deserved in trouble right along with you.

Still, you have no other options. He did offer, you tell yourself, rising from your desk on feet that won’t budge until you work up enough courage to move. Your legs begin to shake and you wonder why you’re so worked up in just asking for help. You know you don’t want to be a problem, something annoying to get under his skin. But he did offer, you remind yourself once again.

It takes you twice as long to make your way to his desk, wishing your knees weren’t shaking so much, praying your heart stops pounding as hard. You spot him with a phone to his ear and a pen in hand, writing down a few things on paper a moment before he notices your presence. He smiles your way and you feel a bit sick to your stomach, as well as a bit disappointed you’ll never witness his smile again once you tell him the news and you’re fired over your mistake.

Bye bye sweet & helpful co-worker. You refrain from pouting while waiting patiently for him to finish his phone call, and it seems as if he speeds up the conversation with his client with a promise to get back to them before placing the phone on the hook with a click.

“Everything okay?” he asks just as before, smile fading when he senses your hesitation, and the fact that your eyes have fallen to the floor because you’re too embarrassed to face him.

“I…” you begin to whisper, seeing him shift his weight from the corner of your eye to turn his chair toward you, “...need help.” When you gather the courage to glance toward him, his brows are raised a bit, and when he stands is when you lower your head once again.

“With?” he questions with a chuckle, watching you nibble on your bottom lip and shift from one foot to the other.

“I messed up,” you exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, “big time.”

“How?” He steps closer before crossing his arms over his chest, and in a wave of overwhelming embarrassment flooding your body in a rush of heat, you blurt out the words in a jumbled sentence, telling him your report was finished, informing him you tossed the notes before heading home the night before, filling him in on your shock to see the whole thing gone when you arrived that morning and even spilling how scared you were to tell him because you didn’t want to get him in trouble as well if he was involved.

The air has escaped your lungs by the time you’re finished, and he stands, staring, taking it all in as well as the sight of you wide-eyed with your bottom lip trembling, wondering just how hard you’re working to keep yourself together before he offers a simple shrug.

“Okay, let’s take a look,” is all he says, voice calm as ever before he strolls over to your desk while you hurry behind him. He takes a seat in your chair then straightens his tie, pushes back his sleeves, and concentrates on the computer screen with a few clicks of the mouse. A heaviness settles in your chest and you swear the nausea will get the better of you as you wait for him to do whatever magic he’s planning, and the moment his smile returns to his lips is when a split-second of relief washes over you. “There it is.”

“You found it?!” Rushing to his side, you nearly bump his shoulder trying to get a view of the screen. There you spot the report you had worked so hard on, complete and ready to be sent with only a few seconds of work from him. “Oh my God! I could kiss you!”

Your voice travels a bit farther than you would have liked, earning a few awkward glances from co-workers sitting at their desks nearby while he chuckles and shakes his head. “Is this what was bothering you?” he asks. “You thought your report was gone forever.”

“Yes, ugh,” you groan, shoulder slumping and head falling. “I was so scared. I just knew I was going to be fired. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well, for starters,” he tells you, rising from your chair, and you stand straight up to follow his lead, “you should have come to me sooner. Sometimes documents get wiped when the system forgets to automatically save, but you can always find them in the temporary folders.”

“I… should have thought of that. Ugh, I’m so dumb sometimes…”

“You’re not dumb.” Laughter falls from his lips as he shakes his head once again. “We’ve all made mistakes, and we all need help sometimes.”

“You’ve helped me so much since I started. I didn’t want to annoy you.” Your voice lowers as you admit your worries, but he raises a hand to dismiss them away.

“You could never annoy me, I’m here to help” he tells you, same smile forming over his lips that makes your body weak. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Thanks. You really saved me here.” He nods in understanding before letting you get back to sending your report, but not before you reach for his arm to keep him for a moment. “Can I make it up to you? You’ve really done so much for me, the least I could do is buy you a coffee… or something.” There’s a certain surprise lighting up his eyes you’ve never seen as he looks down at you, pressing his lips together before the corners curl, and he agrees a second later without an ounce of hesitation.

The two of you find yourself at a cafe a few blocks from work after you clock out, where you both have ordered your favorite flavor of tea to drink while sharing a raspberry pastry. You settle for a table near the window to watch the people pass by with their umbrellas beneath a sudden afternoon shower, lucky to have made it on time to keep from getting wet, as well as have an excuse not to leave as quickly. You enjoy each other’s company, making small talk while you slip in a few more thank you’s because you couldn’t be more grateful for his help. He smiles and nods each time, the shyness evident in his face with every sign of your appreciation and somehow it makes talking to him much easier outside of work.

“Maybe I can take you out next time,” he says while chewing on the last bite of the pastry while you sip your tea through a grin. “Somewhere proper like…”

“Like a date?” you ask before you can stop yourself, and he bites his lip for a moment to hide his eagerness.

“Do you want it to be a date?”

“Do you?” He smiles at you answering a question with a question. It’s that same smile that makes you weak in the knees once again, and you’re blurting out words before you even have time to consider what you’re saying thanks to how irresistibly cute you find him. “Because I do.”

His smile widens. Your heart drums wildly in your chest. “Good,” is all he says, “me too.”

“Well,” you begin, finding a sudden confidence from his words, “if you want a date... all you have to do is ask.”

#bts imagines #nct imagines #got7 imagines #monsta x imagines #stray kids imagines #harry styles imagines #bts scenarios #stray kids scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #bts x reader #stray kids x reader #ateez x reader

39 notes · View notes

kirnet · 6 months

Text

I’m starting my really really detailed outline for the dwta sequel, and I’m organizing all my notes I took from book 2, but I realllyyy do not wanna read book 3 for more notes

#i think I’m just gonna go off my vague recollection of the plot honestly #like I do need notes about like the council and peoples backstories and all that #but I’m cutting the blood draw subplot. I’m cutting most of the kidnappings. I’m not sure the eric/Verda dinner is gonna fit tonally #so I’m kind of left with an auction and a dream lol #ramblings #i do like the outline so far!! there’s a few things that I need to figure out how they fit in #and I need to weave a few things in at the beginning. but otherwise I like how I’m restructuring everything #dorotea… I missed you baby girl. you are SO fucked up now

6 notes · View notes

naughtyjjk · 6 months

Text

jjk men during no nut november

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, toji | fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, teasing, blowjob, masturbation, orgasm denial (just bc of the challenge) ty to everyone who voted for this! it ended up being so much longer than i expected. anyway, enjoy — it's that time of year ;)

GOJO...

talks big at first about how easy the challenge is going to be, but quickly realizes how wrong he is when november actually comes. it's natural, after all; the more he's not supposed to do something, the more it's on his mind. so he finds himself thinking about sex all the time, thinking about you. he recalls the previous times you've fucked, how good it felt to have his cock inside you without any stupid rules holding him back.

he ends up becoming soo fucking horny that it's unbearable, getting himself all worked up and finding any excuse to touch your body. "i want you... god, i wanna fuck you so bad," he says, stripping both of you down and pulling out his cock. it's nice and hard already, dripping with precum. just looking at it makes you turned on, too.

he thrusts into you and as soon as he bottoms out, the full length of his cock buried deep, you stop him there and ask, teasingly, "are you sure you want to do this? you’re not supposed to come this month, remember?" but it’s obvious that this is the limit of his self-control. you can already tell how badly he needs it, unable to take the sexual frustration anymore. "will you be able to hold back from coming?"

gojo whines, cock twitching inside you. he's so desperate and aroused and there's no way he's going to stop now that he's already gotten this far. ignoring your warning, he begins to thrust into you, moaning at how good it feels.

in the end, he only lasts a few days, which means he doesn't get any bragging rights about making it through NNN. but he has no regrets at all because now he can fuck you whenever he wants.

NANAMI...

manages to hold out for a while, but loses by the end of the first week. he tries his best, but he's weak and just can't resist you. at night, he would jerk himself off because he needs some relief but forces himself to go slowly enough to make sure he doesn't come. it doesn't help, though, because he only ends up more turned on, knowing that he can’t fully give himself the orgasm he needs.

after a few nights of going to bed hard and aching, even the most innocent touches from you gets him all riled up. his resolve snaps when you wear extra revealing clothing one day, as if you're testing him on purpose—bending over to show your cleavage, wearing leggings that draw his attention to your thighs. you know he's lost the challenge when he reaches out to touch your your legs, trailing higher and higher until he's rubbing you through your panties.

you rock your hips against his hand, noticing the bulge in his pants, the outline of his hard cock. "are you going to do anything about that?" you ask, and his eyes darken. he's far too horny to hold back any longer, taking you right then and there.

"careful," you say when you notice him start to get close, whispering into his ear. "you don't want to accidentally come now, do you?" but of course that only makes him more aroused, knowing that he isn’t supposed to be doing this.

"fuuck," he groans, thrusting into you harder and you can feel him pulsing inside you, a warning. "i c-can't hold it." he comes in you and it's so hot and filthy and you can feel his release dripping down your legs. but he doesn’t stop until you’re also shaking and moaning, riding out your orgasm on his cock.

maybe next year, you'll both have more luck finishing the challenge.

GETO...

doesn't touch you at all. he's almost too good at keeping his hands off you, determined to win this challenge. it's annoying how composed he is at the halfway point, like he's completely unaffected by the whole thing. but just because he doesn't show it doesn't mean that it isn't slowly getting to him, too.

when the end of the month approaches, he's in constant battle with himself. on one hand, he's so close to winning the challenge; on the other hand, he's beyond sexually frustrated from denying himself for so long.

the day that his resolve snaps, you're eating a lollipop and decide to tease him when you notice him starting at your mouth. you swirl your tongue around the lollipop, licking, sucking, swallowing it down, all whole making eye contact with him. he's aching and hard in his pants by the time you're done and he makes you kneel on your knees in front of him as he pulls out his cock.

he says, "if you want something to suck on so badly, then show me just how good you are" and you're happy to do so. you do the exact same thing—licking, sucking, swallowing him down. swirling around his sensitive cockhead, tracing the veins on the shaft. it's been weeks since his cock had any stimulation so it doesn't take much to get him to the edge. soon, he's thrusting into your mouth, hands tangled in your hair, moaning at how good it feels. "f-fuck, your tongue—i'm coming, i'm—"

his cock twitches as he comes, spilling down your throat. he’s breathing hard. when his mind clears, he decides that it's worth it, even if he was only a few days away from completing NNN.

TOJI...

plays dirty the whole time. this man is absolutely ruthless. he teases you relentlessly, doing whatever he wants with your body—nothing is off limits as long as you don't come. which means he can still touch you, finger you, eat you out as long as he stops before either of you orgasm. and he does this all with a wicked, sexy grin on his face, knowing exactly the torture he’s putting you through.

by far the cruelest thing he ever does is fuck you with his cock and stop mid-thrust just as you're about to come. then he pulls out and leaves you there, desperate and begging for him to go all the way. but he doesn't. he never does. and he repeats this every day for the whole month, constantly getting you worked up and keeping you on edge while denying you of your release. denying himself, too.

he says, "don't feel too good yet, baby" even when you're moaning and whimpering, begging him to finally give in. “p-please—ah, please toji... i don't care about the challenge anymore, let me come—"

meanwhile, his own self control is made of steel; he could be rock hard in his pants, leaking precum, but just knowing the effect it has on you is enough for him to ignore his own desires for now. he gets off on making you more and more aroused, pushing your limits to see when you'll break. and if you're able to last the entire time, he's looking forward to the payoff at the end, where he gets to fuck you hard, leading to an orgasm that's been building up for a month.

2K notes · View notes

enhaheeseung · 2 months

Text

Toxic - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warning: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, angst, cum eating, arguments, cursing, dry humping, multiple orgasms, mentions of cheating, crying, the words slut and whore are used.

Genre: ex’s, toxic relationship, smut, mdni!

WC:4,351k

“Knew you’d be here,” you hear an all too familiar voice say right beside your ear, and you can’t even react before his large arms encase your figure.

You jumped slightly and set your cup down on the kitchen counter, as well as the bottle of alcohol that you had been drinking that night.

With your shaky hands, you attempt to take his arms off you, but the effort is futile, and you end up resting your hands above his that lay on your waist.

“I waited a whole hour to finally get you alone, baby. Your friends were stealing you away from me,” he laughs softly, his warm breath tickling your neck. “But now,” he steps a bit closer, brushing himself against you, and you feel your knees grow weak as his bulge rests between your cheeks. “You’re all mine,” he nibbles on the tip of your ear, earning a quiet gasp from your beautiful lips.

“Hee,” he melts when you call him by the nickname you gave him all those years ago, chills running up his spine as he shudders against you, inhaling a sharp breath while subtly pressing his crotch on your backside.

He lowers his hands to your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you against his chest, your body completely flush with his, leaving you no space and no choice but to feel the thick, pulsing outline of his stiffness.

You let go of his hands, letting him use your body as you clutched onto the kitchen counter to stabilize yourself, and you wish you could say you were doing this with him cause you’re drunk, but you’re far from that cause he came to you only a few shots in.

A part of you felt guilty for letting him back in so easily, but one touch from him and all rational thoughts were out the window. The only thing swirling in your brain right now was the thought of him laying you on your back, spreading you wide open, and taking every last ounce of dignity from you.

He smirks down at your connected bodies when you take matters into your own hands and grind your ass against his hard-on. “Let me take you home,” he whispers and taps your waist two times, momentarily knocking you out of your trance as you agree and let him guide you out of the party.

He feels lucky when he’s able to sneak by your friends. The last thing he needs is for them to interfere like before.

He took you to his car, the scent filling your nostrils and bringing back so many memories of the late-night drives or grocery runs you both used to go on back when your guy's relationship was healthy.

Without much thought he put the keys in the ignition and started his car driving back to your place based off nothing but muscle memory from all the times he used to pick you up for dates he looked to his right seeing you stare out the window and he can’t believe you’re actually sitting here with him right now after everything you guys have been through.

He puts his hand on your thigh and hides his smile when you jump slightly from his touch.

He sees you visibly relax, and he strokes your bare thigh with his thumb, inching his hand up higher and higher till he feels the warmth between your legs. He settles his hand there, kneading and tugging on the soft flesh, working you up for what’s about to come, and by the time you arrive home, your panties are completely drenched. You feel embarrassed for getting so turned on by a simple touch, but you can’t help it. You were undeniably addicted to your ex.

Guiding him upstairs to your apartment room feels all like a blur cause as soon as the door shuts, he’s got his hands all over you, groping every last inch of your skin as his lips press roughly against yours.

Taken aback by his ferocity, your hands clumsily find his strong back, using it as leverage to brace yourself for his hungry kisses. “Oh, heeseung,” you moan into his mouth, and he loves it as it gives him the perfect entrance to your warm, wet mouth. He slips his tongue inside with no permission, but he knows you’d never refuse any of his advances.

“Fuck” he whimpers when you run your fingers through his hair and tug harshly on the roots.

He stumbles his way over to your bedroom, your lips never disconnecting for even a moment as you both discard your shoes somewhere neither of you is even concerned with right now.

Leaning back to finally catch a breather, your eyes flutter open, and he smiles softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb, admiring your beauty up close after so long.

He trails his hands down to your waist, gripping the hem of your shirt, and with your help, he lifts it over your head smoothly, tossing it to the ground.

His hands move to your back, unclasping your bra effortlessly as if you two had just done this yesterday. “Missed this,” he mumbles softly at the sight of your breast, his big hands automatically cupping them, thumbs brushing softly on your nipples as they harden under his sensual touch.

“Mmph,” You bite your lip from the sensation, your hands lowering to the button on his pants, popping it open, and lowering the zipper on his jeans. As soon as you take your hand off his zipper, you cup the pulsing bulge inside his pants, squeezing him softly and taking his breath away.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, looking down at your hand stroking his throbbing length. “Y/n,” he throws his head back, eyes falling shut from the pleasure as his tip continues to leak and soak straight through his underwear.

You take the open opportunity to attach your lips to his neck placing the most softest kisses he’s ever felt on his skin.

He tilts his head to the side, making it easier for you to kiss and mark up his neck while you jerk off his cock faster. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum” he whispers, eyes still closed, showing zero restraint to the upcoming pleasure despite wanting to make you finish first.

You slow your movements, giving him a break, and he makes the most of it as he gently grips your waist and lays you in your bed.

He does the rest of the work and takes his pants off before getting on the bed and looming over you to take your pants off as well. You assist him by lifting your hips and letting him peel the jean material from your legs, leaving you in only your underwear as he throws your jeans off the bed. “You’re so beautiful,” he says while tracing your inner thighs with his fingertips, your skin forming goosebumps from his teasing touch.

Removing his hands from your skin, he slowly opens his blue flannel one button at a time, watching your eyes become filled with desire with each one he unfastens.

Your legs spread apart just a bit, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he can tell how much you want him when you grip the sheets and writhe on the bed beneath him, desperate for him to do something.

And he does. He lays beside you, his left hand running along your clothed cunt. “Hee,” you breathe out, arching into his touch and trying to lift your hips to meet his movements.

He presses a bit harder, adding more friction for your pleasure, and he lowers his face to your chest, taking your perked nipple into his mouth and sucking on it softly as he looks up at you, eyes blown wide as if he’s waiting for some kind of approval.

Slipping your panties to the side, his thick fingers come in contact with your bare cunt for the first time tonight, and he runs his digits through your drenched folds tapping your clit gently and rubbing the wetness all over your mound.

Humming against your chest, he slowly eases his finger inside you, taking your breath away.

You grip his wrist for some kind of support as he gently fucks his finger into your heat, little moans slipping past your lips.

He adds a second finger in you stretching your hole open, his thumb circling your clit in soft circles.

Releasing your nipple with a quiet pop, he kisses around the erect bud, placing soft kisses all over your plush breast.

“So good.” You don’t want to let him know he still has this much power over you, but the way his fingers work inside you makes it impossible.

“Yeah? You feel good, baby?” He lays his tongue flat against your chest, licking every inch within his reach, his fingers gradually picking up the pace as he curls them and starts rubbing that spot he memorized all those years ago. It was still carved on his brain despite your guy's separation.

His left leg hooks over yours, his obvious hard-on rubbing against your thigh as he absentmindedly humps your leg. “Ah ah,” he moans shakily, his wet tip getting stimulated by the softness of your thigh.

The action only turns you on more, and the feeling of his scorching length throbbing against your thigh while he pumps your wet walls has you clenching so tightly around his fingers, letting him know you’re not far off. “Hee close, so close,” your arch, your back further into his touch, eyes squeezing shut as you lose yourself in the pleasure of an orgasm that you dreamed of every night since the breakup.

“I know, baby.” he pecks your chest, rutting faster against your thigh, creating more friction the closer you get. “You gonna cum for me?” He whines out, his own orgasm creeping up on him suddenly.

“Yes,” you nod your head over and over, looking down at where his hand was pleasuring you in ways you couldn’t imagine. “Cumming” you helplessly choked out, legs shaking uncontrollably as you had your first orgasm in years.

“That’s it,” he whispers against your ear. “My girl cumming so hard around my fingers” he softly kisses the shell of your ear, his hot breath heightening every last little spark of hot pleasure you felt. “Give it to me, all of it.” The feeling doesn’t fade, and it seems like your high was dragging on forever. Just seconds later, you feel another rush of pleasure flow through you, and a second orgasm comes crashing down around you unexpectedly.

His thumb works gently on your clit as a warm liquid squirts out from between your legs the wet sounds loud and sloppy as his fingers fuck your cunt till you give him everything. “Oh my god, heeseung fuck” you moan loudly, your body quivering in the aftermath as little wet splashes stain your bed as well as heeseung’s hand, but he loves it the way you’re literally wetting yourself all because of him.

“I got you” he nudges your face with his nose, slowly riding your high out until you’ve given him every last ounce out of your perfect pussy. “Baby, you’re so wet you’re dripping on me,” he says in a daze, soaking up the image of you wet and shaking with pleasure when you come back down from that indescribable experience you hid your face in his neck, feeling embarrassed by how your body reacted to him.

He pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole, your squirt running down his wrist as he slurps your cum off his fingers.

The front of his underwear was covered in translucent precum, and he felt like he couldn’t wait for another second to be inside you, especially when he rested on his knees and saw the creamy substance leaking from your entrance. He just knew it was going to feel like absolute heaven to be inside you again.

He quickly pulled down his boxers, revealing his hard veiny cock to your desired-filled eyes as you lay there just waiting for him to fully undress.

On second thought, you couldn’t wait. His underwear only made it to his ankles before you sat up and gripped his shoulders, maneuvering him on the bed, so now he was sitting against the bed frame.

You immediately sat on his lap, circling your hips as your wet panties brushed against his leaky dick. “Condom?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and positioned yourself to ride his thick cock.

He shakes his head back and forth. “mm mmm.” he really didn’t have one because he was not expecting tonight to go like this. “But we don’t need one, baby. Let me fill you up.” he caresses your arms up and down. “Know you love it when I cum inside it” he squeezes your arms a bit more tightly, letting his possessive side take over.

This should have been a red flag for you, but at the moment, it was so hot that it clouded your better judgment, and the idea of him filling your hole with his hot cum and claiming you as his had your brains turned to mush and by the look on your face you didn’t even have to give him an answer for him to know you wanted it too.

You lifted your hips up, and he pushed your panties to the side, giving him just enough access to your little hole. He gripped the base of his cock, putting the tip in and giving you that nice little stretch before pushing in a bit more. “Oh,” you moan, rolling your head back as he spreads you open with his dick.

“Oh fuck god, y/n,” he whines, his hands rushing to your sides to grip onto something to ground himself.

You gently sat down, careful not to overwhelm him. You bounced lightly on it, getting both of you used to the sensation, and naturally, as it started to feel better and better, it wasn’t long before you were sunken down all the way on him, his tip touching your cervix as your pussy lips kissed his full balls.

“Kiss me.” his breath was heavy, eyes barely open, as he tilted his head up, waiting for your lips to touch his.

You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer, zeroing in on his perfect pink lips and connecting them together.

You can feel him twitch inside the moment you stick your tongue in his mouth. He moans quietly, feeling breathless from your kiss, his fingertips pressing harshly into your side, and you completely take his breath away when you start riding his long cock.

His mouth falls open, and the kiss is no longer a kiss. It’s just you licking, sucking, and biting every inch of his mouth.

You feel the grip on your waist loosen, and he becomes limp, his fingers lifelessly resting on your thighs as you bounce up and down up and down.

The sound of your skin clapping against his, mixed with the obscene wet sounds between your conjoined bodies, makes his head spin.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest, his eyes glossy with pleasure as you fuck your cunt on his cock.

You leaned back eyes fluttering open and you stare into his love filled ones biting your lip and tilting your head to the side using every last ounce of energy to ride him. “I-“ he tried to speak, but nothing came to his mind. He was too overwhelmed with the feeling to form a coherent thought.

“Feels good, huh?” You say through a heavy breath as he nods frantically.

“Yes, so good, please, y/n,” he whimpers and presses his face to your chest, messily licking and sucking the flesh, the warmth of his tongue making your nipples grow hard. “Please, I’m so close, y/n you’re gonna make me cum”

“Okay, baby,” you kissed the top of his head, and the warmth he felt inside of him was nothing like nothing before the softness mixed with the pleasure was all it took for him to let go. “Fill me up, hee, make me yours.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, but right now, it feels right. “Only want you.”

“Me too,” he whines out, muscles tensing as he releases himself within your heat, filling you up just the way you wanted. “Mine all mine,” he grunts out every word with each rope of cum that stains your warm insides. “All fucking mine,” his words shoot straight to your core, your cunt clenching around him, milking his creamy seed until you are stuffed to the brim with white hot cum.

He starts thrusting up from below you, his balls smacking against your ass as he turns animalistic, his strength returning in full as his grip becomes tighter. The sudden change of sensation takes you by surprise, and he easily flips you over, getting on top of you, his left hand immediately clasping with yours beside your head. “Legs on me,” he groans softly as you obey his command.

He grips your thigh, hoisting it up high on his waist, his tip reaching the deepest part inside you. His thrusts are deep and precise as his thick tip drags against your gummy walls, stroking every last ridge and crevice, bringing you the utmost pleasure. “Uhh heeseung,” A shocked whimper escapes your swollen lips, your free hand clutching to his wide back, and your sounds make him absolutely feral. You swear you see stars as he pounds into you so fast and deep.

“I love you,” he breathed out while scanning your flushed face, his hand slipping between your bodies to finger your clit so you can both cum together this time. “I love you, y/n,” you moan at his confession as you stare into his eyes, your body slipping further up the bed while he gives it to you, and at the moment, you know you can’t resist uttering the words. “Say it back, please,” he whimpers out, his strokes becoming inconsistent the closer he gets. “Please,” he begs in a desperate voice, needing you to say the words back to him to confirm you feel the same way as he does.

“Love you too, hee so much.” You cup his cheek, his brows furrowed, and his eyes fill with tears as he buries his face in your neck, whimpering nonstop about how much you mean to him and how much he loves you. “I love you, I love you so much,” you confess in your moment of weakness, and you let go cumming around his cock your walls desperately clenching on him, begging to be filled up.

“I love you,” he confesses one last time before he cums. He squeezes your hand, groaning as he fills you with all of his love, his hips never wavering as he fucks not one but two loads of warm cum inside you, plugging up your pulsating hole with his thick base to ensure that nothing spills out.

He peppers your neck in kisses, moaning as you dig your nails into his back while the remainder of your high starts to fade away.

Heavy, exhausted breaths fill up the now silent but steamy bedroom, and you both lay there enjoying the last few faint pulses between your bodies before you even think about moving.

He props himself up on his elbow, staring down at your beautiful blissed-out face as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

You look back and forth between his eyes, guilt slowly but surely filling your system. “Pull out”

“Why?” He whispered, confusion evident on his face. Without answering his question, you place your hands on his chest, gently pushing him back, and he doesn’t want to go against your will, so he very reluctantly pulls out of you, his cum streaming out of your hole like a river.

You quickly cover up with the sheets, hiding from him something you’ve never done after being intimate with him, which makes him even more confused.

Before he could even offer to clean you up, you were basically kicking him out. “Go”

“What do you mean go?” He asked.

“Just go, heeseung. This was a mistake, and we both know it.” his heart shatters at your words because how could this be happening? Just a minute ago, you were giving yourself to him, begging for him to make you his again, and the next, you’re just willing to kick him out and call making love to him a mistake?

“A mistake? So you regret it?” You could hear the hurt in his voice, and it made you feel even more guilty. “I don’t understand, y/n” his voice shakes slightly, and you know this was a bad idea from the fucking start. How could you let yourself get swept up by him again? He was supposed to be your ex, but here you are fucking him like you’re still both together, giving him mixed signals because even though your heart wanted him, your brain was telling you that he was no good for you.

“Heeseung, don’t,” you say, holding back your own tears. “You know this was never gonna work, and you kept coming back until I finally broke down and slept with you, but this does not mean we’re back together. When we broke up, I told you I’d never be getting back together with you.”

He gulps down the lump in his throat, staring at nothing in particular after taking his eyes off you.

He covers himself with his hands, the feeling of nakedness making its presence known. He stands up from the bed, wearing his underwear properly and buttoning up his shirt.

It’s silent except for the sounds of him rummaging through your room to find his pants. He puts them on, zipping them up, and he takes two steps to walk out of the bedroom before standing still. “So you said you love me. Was that a mistake, too?” You nod your head slowly, avoiding all eye contact with him, and he lets out a few chuckles before it turns into full-blown laughter.

You looked up at him, confused as to what he thought was so funny about this heartbreaking situation.

“I get it now.” his laugh settles, and he can’t believe he was stupid enough to even think this would work.

“Get what?” You questioned.

“I know what it is.” You look at him, puzzled, and wait for him to continue. “You’re nothing but a fucking slut” he says, and you whip your head in his direction, looking at him with pure shock. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s quite obvious you’re getting it from someone else.” he chuckles pathetically at himself. “You don’t need me no more 'cause you have been running around to all these parties and hooking up with random guys every night, right? You let them fuck you however they want, and you love it too, huh? Getting your slutty hole filled with a new guy every night?”

“Heeseung that’s not true and we both know it” you grit through your teeth trying not to show your emotions you can’t believe that’s really what he thought of you.

“Save it!” He shouts. “Tell me, do they do it better than I do? Is that why you left me in the first place? Cause I wasn’t doing it for you anymore, huh? Was I not big enough for you? what was it?” He interrogates.

“Heeseung, stop!” You shout back on the verge of tears.

“Why y/n? We both know you cheated cause I was never enough for you, but did you really have to do that to me? You know I still love you.” his voice cracks, and it breaks your heart when you hear his soft sniffles. You hated hearing him cry. It was the absolute worst. “Fuck I hate this so much,” he whispers to himself and swipes a hand over his face drying his tears. “But fuck it, I’ll just face it. I’ll never be enough for you. I’m pathetic. I haven’t even been with anyone since we broke up 'cause I’m still caught up on you, but you’re living the life you gave up on me a long time ago.”

You wish he’d stop doing this to himself. This is one of the many reasons why you had to break up with him in the first place. He never saw his worth and never thought you could see it, either. He never saw just how lovable he was and how easy it was to be yourself around him.

You never understood what made him so insecure in your guy's relationships. You never once thought about cheating when you were with him. You’d always go out of your way to make him feel loved, but it was just never enough.

Or maybe it was your fault. Maybe you gave him signs that you’d cheat, maybe you gave him signs that you didn’t love him.

But at this point, everything ruined your friendship, your trust, your relationship, your love.

But you tried cause even though everything was a mess, you still loved him, and though you couldn’t tell him that, you at least wanted to try and make him feel better about himself. “Heeseung, you are enough.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs.

“Heeseung, I know we’re over, but you deserve love, and I’m sorry I can’t give it to you,” you tell him, all while feeling completely helpless in this situation.

“Is that what you tell every guy you let inside you?” The room falls silent yet again, and you feel so weak and broken that you can’t even say anything back. If that’s what he wanted to believe about you, then fine, everything was over between you and him anyway.

He shook his head at you and walked out, slamming the door behind him, and you finally let the first of many tears fall.

As hurtful as it was, you’re glad that conversation happened, and now you just hope that he’ll leave you alone once and for all.

You just couldn’t handle him anymore because he was toxic.

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #enha heeseung #lee heeseung smut #engene #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung angst #lee heeseung angst

551 notes · View notes

murdrdocs · 1 year

Text

saber tooth | f. odair

description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair

a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish

word count: 4k+

part 2

A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you.

The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games.

The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night.

All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things.

The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center.

“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool.

Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake.

Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?”

You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite.

With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are.

“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you.

“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up.

He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap.

“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position.

You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you.

The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours.

“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other.

“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.”

You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode.

Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games.

He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you.

“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it. “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title.

Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could.

“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps.

“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you.

“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.”

“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is.

He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.”

“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do.

He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips.

Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”

“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod.

“So, what d’you want?”

You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago.

“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks.

He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.”

“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two.

“I can’t.”

His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin.

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop.

“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.”

You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you.

You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this.

There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do.

“Even take my virginity?”

The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink.

You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body.

“Forget it. I’m sor–”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face.

“Finn…”

“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…”

“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.”

And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips.

Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?”

“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you.

He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you.

You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess.

Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso.

You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right.

Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you.

When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined.

The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap.

It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place.

He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons.

He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons.

Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease.

When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting.

“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips.

His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there.

“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.”

His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you.

“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too.

Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present.

He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised.

It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.”

The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way.

You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey.

The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed.

Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory.

Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him.

It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action.

His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt.

When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?”

His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory.

You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively.

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge.

You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.”

And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit.

A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress.

Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him.

Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.”

He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts.

It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses.

You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more.

You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance.

You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls.

Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance.

“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt.

“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give.

It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind.

Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released.

“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.”

You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive.

It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans.

Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips.

“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you.

“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving.

You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back.

You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders.

Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation.

Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his.

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.”

Your heart drops.

“Huh?”

“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.”

Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly.

“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?”

And you do. Wholeheartedly.

#finnicksworld!#celeste writes thg #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #the hunger games smut #finnick odair x you #finnick odair #the hunger games

3K notes · View notes

justlemmeadoreyou · 5 days

Text

3. protectively watchful (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here)

summary: you take up on the mantorship offer, but it creates more tensions and turmoil within you than were before. an incident in the kitchen makes harry go into protective mode, and you can't help but get turned on by this man more and more.

words: 4.8k

warnings: sexual tension (like A LOT), inappropriate behaviour, protective!harry.

***

"You wanted to see me, Chef?"

You gave a light knock on the open door of Harry's office, trying to sound polite and professional. It had been a few weeks since you had that talk with Harry about keeping things strictly business between you two. During that time, he had been a perfect mentor - giving you advice and guidance without any flirting or suggestive comments.

His coaching had really helped improve your cooking skills as you soaked up all his knowledge and experience. You were grateful to have a normal working relationship again, focused solely on culinary training. And yet...you couldn't ignore the faint lingering tension between you, that subtle underlying charge.

Harry looked up from the notebooks on his desk, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile when he saw you. "Ah, there you are. Come on in, have a seat."

You sat down in one of the chairs across from him as Harry neatened up the loose papers into a stack. Up close, you couldn't help noticing how well-fitted his black button-down shirt was, or how his tousled hair looked very touchable.

Firmly reminding yourself this was just a professional meeting, you averted your eyes politely until Harry cleared his throat.

"So as you know, the big Martin gala fundraiser is coming up in a few weeks," he began, shuffling through some folders. "It's one of the biggest events of the year for underprivileged culinary education programs. I'll be preparing the featured dish for their live auction, and I'd love for you to assist me on it."

Your eyes went wide with surprise at this prestigious opportunity. The Martin gala was a hugely famous event in Chicago's culinary scene, attracting all the wealthiest and most notable diners. For an up-and-coming chef to collaborate on the centerpiece dish was an amazing honor and chance to get exposure.

"Wow, yes of course!" you replied enthusiastically. "I would be absolutely honored, Chef. Thank you for this incredible opportunity."

Harry's dimples deepened as he smiled approvingly. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be under a huge spotlight to deliver an amazing showstopper dish. I expect you to rise to the challenge."

You quickly nodded. "You can count on me to give it my absolute best effort. I'm ready to do whatever work is needed."

"Excellent," Harry said in a slightly lower, huskier tone. "That's exactly what I like to hear."

For a moment, his voice had a heated quality that hinted at other situations where your eagerness might be welcome. You ignored the shiver it sent through you, reminding yourself this was strictly business now between you two.

Harry seemed to realize he was skirting the line, as he abruptly straightened up and all hints of flirtation disappeared as he switched fully into mentor mode. "Right, well let me walk you through my basic vision so far..."

You leaned forward attentively as he outlined preliminary ideas for a highly ambitious and avant-garde dish blending molecular gastronomy techniques with classic French cuisine fundamentals. It was wildly cutting-edge, even for a showpiece event like the Martin gala. But the more details Harry provided, the more that same thrill of adrenaline rushed through you whenever presented with a new culinary challenge to conquer.

For the next hour, the two of you bounced ideas back and forth in that unique creative flow state that chefs share. Harry's presence was magnetic, but you refused to get distracted by more physical aspects - like the stretch of his biceps against his crisp sleeves, the hint of toned abs beneath his open collar, or the raspy timbre of his voice dipping into that lower register as he passionately discussed certain techniques.

And oh, his damn tattoos.

No, you sternly told yourself as the conversation began wrapping up. Those days of getting flustered around him were over. Harry had made it clear where you stood, and you fully accepted those boundaries. Anything else was just self-torture.

"...but of course, those are just preliminary thoughts," Harry was saying as he collected the scattered folders into a neat pile. "We'll have plenty of time to refine the details over the next couple weeks."

You nodded, filing away the mental notes you'd taken during the discussion. "Absolutely, Chef. Just let me know whatever you need for prep or testing different ideas to get a head start."

"Will do." With an air of finality, Harry gathered up the pile and rose from his seat. You quickly stood up as well, not wanting him to loom over you in the enclosed space. For a beat, you both hovered awkwardly, the air seeming to thicken between you.

"Well then," Harry said, making no move to step past you towards the door. "I'd say this calls for a drink to celebrate our new collaboration, wouldn't you agree?"

Before you could reply, he turned and went to a small antique cabinet tucked in an alcove you hadn't noticed before. With a practiced hand, Harry selected a heavy glass decanter and two tumblers, placing them on the cabinet and expertly twisting off the stopper.

"Let's go with Lagavulin," he mused aloud, carefully pouring two generous glasses of the amber scotch whisky. "A good Scottish whisky seems appropriate for the occasion."

"I really shouldn't, Chef," you said reflexively, already picturing your lightweight self getting sloppy and unprofessional after even a single drink.

But Harry just chuckled softly. "Loosen up a little. It's a celebration, after all."

He emphasized this by bringing one of the heavy tumblers over and pressing the cool glass into your hand. You frowned down at the coppery liquid, worrying your lower lip uncertainly. But before you could protest further, Harry gently clinked his glass against yours in a silent toast before taking a sizable sip.

The whisky's smoky, peaty aroma seemed to wrap around you intimately. Despite your hesitation, you couldn't help giving an appreciative inhale before taking a small, tentative sip yourself. Bold, layered flavors of vanilla, caramel, and charred oak underscored by an earthy smokiness burst over your tongue. You let out a soft sigh of indulgent pleasure at the decadent taste.

"Good, isn't it?" Harry's gravelly voice made you start slightly. He was watching you with amusement, whisky glass dangling casually from those large, handsome fingers. "It really hits you in the back of the throat, makes you slow down and savor it fully."

You suddenly realized the suggestive implication behind his phrasing and felt a flush of heat bloom across your face and chest. Harry watched the play of emotions flickering over your features with relish before taking another indulgent sip. This time, you noticed the way his full lips pursed delicately to drink, the tiny furrow of concentration between his brows as he savored the flavor before swallowing.

Unconsciously, your eyes tracked the mesmerizing flex of his throat as he swallowed, the hint of stubble grazing along his chiseled jawline. A twinge low in your abdomen accompanied the thought of feeling that scratchy burn of beard between your thighs, that talented mouth working magic elsewhere on your body.

Mortified, you shut down that wayward trail of thought through sheer willpower. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized Harry had caught you staring, his own gaze darkly amused.

"Easy there," he murmured huskily, stepping a bit deeper into your personal space. "This dish is a marathon, not a sprint. Best to learn to savor every indulgent morsel along the way."

With a pointed look and arched brow, Harry raised his whisky to those plump lips once more, holding your gaze as he placed the rim against that full lower lip and let out an obscenely gratifying groan of pure delight.

Moments after, the tension had subsided, but the flush and blush that had creeped up your cheeks wasn’t going away anytime soon–you were sure of that.

***

You tried to push aside the lingering thoughts about the “Celebration” that were now implaed into your mind, and the way tiny droplets of the drink remained on his lips till he licked them off with his tongue–

You wanted that tongue to be yours.

Shaking your head, you focused on prepping the ingredients for the evening service. The dinner rush would be starting soon and you needed to have everything ready. As you worked, you were vaguely aware of the dining room filling up with patrons being seated. The sounds and aromas of the bustling kitchen surrounded you in a familiar, comforting way.

You were so engrossed in your tasks that you didn't notice the man approach until he cleared his throat loudly. Looking up, you saw a smartly-dressed diner smiling at you in a way that made you instinctively uncomfortable.

"Well, hello there," he said in a syrupy tone. "I was just admiring the delicious-looking fare over here." He raked an obvious look up and down your body. "The menu selections have my mouth watering already."

You stiffened, recognizing the overly familiar leer. This wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an obnoxious patron hitting on you. Keeping your expression neutral, you replied in a polite but firm tone. "I'm afraid you'll need to return to the dining room, sir. The kitchen is off-limits to guests."

Rather than taking the hint, the man leaned nonchalantly against your prep station. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I was just hoping you could suggest something...special for me to sample tonight." He punctuated this with an exaggerated wink.

Suppressing a grimace, you turned away to continue your work, hoping he would give up and leave. No such luck. The lech sidled closer until he was nearly pressed against you. "What do you say? I'd love for a tasty little thing like you to--"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen area immediately." Harry's firm baritone cut across the man's words like a whip crack.

You looked up in relief to see your boss standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched as he glared at the offending patron. Even from several feet away, you could sense the potent force of his displeasure rolling off him in waves.

The diner seemed to shrink slightly under Harry's censorious scowl. "Oh, uh, my apologies. I was just trying to get some personal recommendations--"

"The kitchen is off-limits and you're making my staff uncomfortable," Harry interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I won't ask again. Return to your table or you'll be asked to leave the premises."

Looking sufficiently cowed, the lech swiftly retreated with some mumbled apologies. You exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the anxiety brought on by the unpleasant encounter. Harry stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked you over with concern.

"You okay? That asshole didn't go too far, did he?"

You managed a faint smile, oddly touched by the protective edge in his voice. "I'm fine, Chef. Just another boorish customer thinking the uniform is a dinner invitation."

His jaw tightened again as he scowled in the direction the man had gone. "That type of behavior is completely unacceptable. You let me know right away if anyone hassles you like that again, understand?"

Nodding, you found yourself blinking rapidly against the unexpected prickle of grateful tears at having Harry firmly in your corner, despite the complicated dynamics between you lately.

For a long moment, he watched you carefully as if gauging your equilibrium. Then Harry surprised you by reaching out and briefly squeezing your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. The warmth of his large hand seeped through your uniform, leaving a tingly imprint even after he pulled away.

"I've got your back, [Y/N]. You focus on doing your job and let me deal with any assholes who get out of line."

The gruff tenderness in his words made your heart do a traitorous little flip in your chest. You nodded again, not trusting your voice enough to respond properly.

With one final pointed look, Harry turned and headed back out to his front-of-house duties. As you watched his broad-shouldered form disappear through the swinging doors of the kitchen, you felt a complicated tangle of gratitude, protectiveness, affection...and yes, a lingering undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't seem to fully extinguish despite your best efforts.

You spent the rest of the dinner service determinedly pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Harry or the earlier incident. Focusing fully on your work was the only way to get through these confusing emotions that had you all over the place..

The rhythm of prepping, plating, and coordinating with the other line cooks settled into a familiar, reassuring routine. The constant flurry of chopping, sautéing, and barked orders provided a sort of meditative escape from your muddled headspace.

By the time the last diner had been served and the kitchen was winding down for the night, you felt pleasantly drained in that satisfying way that comes from a job well done. As you began breaking down your station for cleaning, Harry emerged from his office looking satisfied.

"Excellent work tonight, everyone," he called out in that effortlessly commanding tone. "Front-of-house said the new salmon dish was a huge hit. We'll definitely want to keep that one on the seasonal menu."

A chorus of tired but pleased murmurs went around the kitchen at the praise. Harry's eyes found yours amidst the small crowd, holding your gaze a beat longer than strictly necessary before moving on to the other cooks. You tried not to read too much into it.

With the nightly pep talk concluded, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white chef's coat, joining everyone in the evening breakdown and cleaning duties. You watched surreptitiously as he expertly broke down one of the grill stations, muscles in his broad forearms flexing enticingly with each efficient movement.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, quickly refocusing on scrubbing down your own prep area. This was exactly the kind of distracted, unprofessional behavior you were trying to avoid lately around Harry.

Despite your best efforts, however, you couldn't fully ignore him moving about the kitchen, checking in with each station to oversee their sanitation. At one point, he paused to examine some utensils that hadn't been properly cleaned, tsking in displeasure before batting them aside to be re-scrubbed.

"That's never going to meet inspection," he chided the sheepish-looking young line cook in his trademark gruff tone. "Do it again, and do it properly this time. We're not running a greasy spoon here."

As much as his uncompromising attitude could be intimidating, you also found it oddly...thrilling to witness Harry taking charge so authoritatively. Not to mention the visual of those powerful hands deftly at work was sending your thoughts in an unprofessional direction yet again.

Sternly redirecting your focus, you turned your back to give the area behind the grill station a thorough scrubbing. You were so engrossed that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Harry's low voice sounded directly in your ear.

"Everything looking good over here?"

You whirled around to find him looming directly behind you, near enough that you could smell the spicy notes of his subtle cologne mingling with the lingering kitchen aromas clinging to him. Up this close, you couldn't help noticing how the top buttons of his coat had come undone at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of the toned chest beneath.

Trying not to stare, you quickly averted your eyes as you nodded. "Y-yes, Chef. All clean on this side."

"Hmm." His assessing gaze slowly raked over your work before returning to your flushed face. The tiniest of smirks played about his lips as if he could read the direction of your thoughts.

"Well, then. Carry on," was all he said before turning and strolling unhurriedly back towards his office, burgundy cargo pants slung enticingly low on those lean hips.

You let out a shaky breath, mentally cursing how easily flustered you still became around this man, no matter how much you tried to enforce boundaries. Resolutely, you refocused on finishing your cleaning tasks, determined to get out of there before any more distracted lapses in professionalism.

By the time the kitchen had been scoured from top to bottom, you were one of the last few staffers remaining. Wearily peeling off your apron, you were just reaching for your bag when Harry reappeared, looking unhurried and relaxed now that the nightly duties were done.

"Heading out?" he asked as you approached, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.

You stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. "Yeah, I'm beat. Gonna try and get some extra sleep before the morning prep shift tomorrow."

He made a noncommittal sound, falling into step beside you as you headed for the employee exit out back. For a few moments, you walked in silence, oddly aware of the warmth radiating off his body this close to yours.

When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what you expected. "You did good with that asshole customer earlier."

Your steps faltered slightly at the praise before quickly recovering. "Oh...uh, thanks, Chef. You really didn't need to step in like that."

"The hell I didn't," he countered gruffly. There was an edge to his tone that made the tiny hairs at your nape prickle. "No one treats my staff like piece of meat, especially not in my own goddamn kitchen."

Harry shook his head in disgust at the very idea, causing a lock of mahogany hair to fall rakishly across his furrowed brow in a way that really shouldn't have been as distracting as it was.

Swallowing hard, you refocused on the matter at hand. "I've dealt with guys like that before. Just comes with the territory sometimes, y'know?"

"That doesn't make it acceptable," he insisted, mouth setting into a grim line. You found yourself unable to look away from the sharp angles of his frowning profile, chiseled jaw ticking faintly with irritation, that he tried to mask.

He fixed you with those intense pale eyes, all traces of humor gone. "No one - and I mean no one - gets to treat any of you with disrespect while I'm in charge around here. I won't stand for that shit under my roof."

The ferocity in his tone sent an involuntary shiver rippling through you, though from wariness or...something else entirely, you couldn't say. All you knew was the low, authoritative resonance of Harry's voice carried an unmistakable air of command that raised goosebumps along your arms.

Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact you were walking in such close proximity out of public view. Or hell, maybe it was just the sheer presence of this man who could flip between stern taskmaster and something rawer, more carnal in the blink of an eye.

Whatever it was, you felt that subtle spark between you ignite and suddenly, you desperately needed to be alone to process the yearning that flickered to life low in your belly. Before you could consider the impulse further, you were blurting out the first excuse that came to mind.

"Well, thanks again for that. And for the whole mentorship thing too. I, uh...I actually have some errands to run, so I'll just catch you tomorrow morning, 'kay?"

You didn't even give Harry a chance to respond before ducking through the exit, muscles taut with confused tension. As the cool night enveloped you, you drew a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to steady yourself.

Whatever weird atmospheric flux had momentarily enveloped you back there was too dangerous, too distracting from the tenuous balance you and Harry had only just reestablished. No, it was better to put some space between you before things got muddied again.

With a fierceness born of sheer force of will, you wrestled your turbulent, wandering thoughts back under control. You were a professional, with goals to work towards. Getting pulled into Harry's electrifying orbit again would only derail you.

Still, as you hurried to your car, his shape-shifting countenance kept flashing unbidden across your memory - the dazzling smile, the brooding intensity, the simmering promise of authority barely restrained. All of it provided an infuriatingly potent combination that had your body humming with repressed longing despite yourself.

This was going to take more effort than you'd anticipated.

***

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of grueling practice runs and preparation for the Martin gala. You and Harry spent nearly every waking hour in the kitchen, iterating endlessly on his showpiece dish concept.

With the prestigious event date rapidly approaching, any lingering awkwardness or tension between you had been shifted firmly into the background. The shared urgency of perfecting this culinary masterpiece became an all-consuming focus that left little room for anything else.

Still, that didn't stop you from noticing...things.

Like how the sleeves of Harry's whites had an endearing tendency to get shoved up his forearms in a way that displayed those tanned, sinewy muscles to distracting effect as he worked. You definitely didn't linger over the sight of his strong hands deftly wielding a knife, making precise, practiced cuts. And you absolutely did not imagine those dexterous fingers trailing across your skin instead of the cutting board.

At least, that's what you sternly told yourself in an ongoing effort to maintain focus.

For his part, Harry was all business during these preparation sessions - issuing clipped instructions, evaluating ingredients with a critical eye, pushing both of you relentlessly to get every component just right. Only rarely did you catch hints of something more underneath that professional veneer.

Like the time you were bent over a burner, carefully spooning out the orbs of flavored olive oil onto the waiting plate. Harry stepped up behind you to examine your work, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. As he leaned in closer to inspect the delicate orbs, his low murmur caressed the fine hairs at your nape in a way that made you shiver.

"That's it...go nice and slow with a deft touch," he rumbled in that raspy timbre that never failed to send tingles shooting straight to your core.

Heart pounding, you risked a sidelong glance to find his pale eyes already locked on yours, glittering with an intensity that contrasted sharply with his deceptively neutral expression. A charged moment stretched between you as that underlying spark you'd been determinedly ignoring flared, sudden and molten.

Just when you thought you might spontaneously combust, Harry blinked and cleared his throat brusquely. "Carry on, then," he instructed in his normal crisp tone before turning away to focus on another component.

You stood motionless for several heartbeats, fingers clenched around the spoon, skin flushed and tingling in equal measures of arousal and disbelief. Did that really just happen or had the endless hours in the kitchen started affecting your mind?

Too skittish to ponder it further, you dove back into your tasks with even more single-minded focus, the uneasy moment shelved and locked away tight. No matter what fleeting tension arose in isolated pockets, you couldn't afford to unpack it right now - not with the enormity of what was at stake.

The days ticked down in a relentless march until finally, you and Harry stood in the solitude of his spartan office the night before the big event, taking a breather from your marathon final prep session.

An ungodly number of mise en place containers filled every available surface, each holding fussed-over components of the highly elaborate and conceptual dish that would make its debut tomorrow. Harry had pushed you both to your physical and creative limits, drilling the execution repeatedly until he was satisfied you could plate it flawlessly under the anticipated scrutiny.

Now, having quality-checked and prepped every last possible element, there was nothing further to do except rest up and bring your sharpest mental game tomorrow. Harry seemed to deflate slightly as the backdrop of mounting pressure decreased for the first time in weeks.

Propping his hip against the desk with studied nonchalance, he quirked one eyebrow in a sidelong glance. "You ready for this?"

Despite your weariness, you felt that familiar thrill of adrenaline stir at those simple words - as well as a contradictory quiver of nerves. This event was a make-or-break opportunity of the highest magnitude, especially for someone like you just starting out. Either you nailed your responsibilities tomorrow, or it all came crashing down in front of Chicago's most elite gourmands.

Shoving aside the sudden flutters of doubt, you met Harry's inscrutable gaze head-on, straightening your spine. "You know I am. We've put in the work, and this dish is gonna blow them all away."

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his sculpted mouth as he studied you appraisingly. "That's what I like to hear. Just remember - all the technique practice in the world won't mean a thing if you panic out there."

The subtle warning made you bristle defensively, never one to back down from a challenge. "I'm not going to panic," you scoffed. "I eat massive amounts of public pressure like this for breakfast."

Harry's eyes danced with amusement, and not for the first time, it struck you how effortlessly he could switch between imposing and playful. "Is that so?" he drawled easily. "In that case, would you care to make things a bit more interesting?"

Before you could respond, Harry kicked off from the desk in one sinuous motion to prowl closer. Despite your weariness, you felt your heart rate kick up several notches as he invaded your personal space, long body coiled with a loose, predatory grace.

"Let's say we raise the stakes a little," he proposed in a tone of studied nonchalance that was completely belied by the heated glint in his eyes boring into yours. "If you can prove you've got the chops to keep a cool head under fire tomorrow, I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Just you and me, anywhere you want to go."

Your mouth went instantly dry at the implications behind his offer. Were those...the unmistakable undertones of flirtation coloring his invitation? After the weeks of him keeping things strictly professional between you, the sudden shift was dizzying - and left you dangerously intrigued.

"And what if I choke?" you heard yourself countering recklessly before you could reconsider. "What do you get out of it then?"

His answering smile was pure blistering sin. "Oh, sweetheart. If that happens...I get to take you out too - but somewhere a bit more private."

Harry paused to let the suggestive proposition linger, backing it up with a slow, heated raking of his pale eyes over your body that left zero doubt as to his implication. Heat bloomed furiously across your cheeks as forbidden images flooded your mind unbidden - flashes of tangled limbs, straining muscle, sweaty exertion of a far different sort...

Then, just like that, the provoking spell was broken. Rocking back on his heels, Harry shrugged one broad shoulder in an easy, dismissive gesture. "But that's not going to happen, is it? You've got all the skills, you've put in the time - no reason to buckle tomorrow."

He threw one final weighted glance in your direction before pivoting on his heel towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you at the venue early to do our final walkthrough before we get this show on the road."

And with that parting comment, Harry strode casually out, leaving you rooted there in dumbfounded silence. What the hell had just happened? One moment, you'd merely been steeling yourselves for tomorrow's high stakes challenge - and then suddenly he was issuing some bizarrely flirtatious...proposition.

Or was that really what it was? As you stood there chasing replays of his words, his tone, his body language - the whole previous interaction kept taking on a slinkier, more salacious cast. Like maybe your presence of mind was slipping already, causing you to read into things that weren't really there.

No...no, you decided as you hefted your bag, determined to put it all out of your head for now. Harry was just his usual aggravating self, trying to rile you by dangling some imagined reward or punishment to keep you on your toes before the big event. This whole...suggestive semiflirtation thing was just the product of your own exhausted mind playing tricks.

Firmly shoving aside all unsettling thoughts, you focused on the immediate challenge awaiting tomorrow. You would plate Harry's showpiece dish to absolute perfection, prove yourself under the brightest lights, and decisively seize this career-making opportunity.

Everything else could be dealt with later.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this!

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli

@tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely

@whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @harryhitties

@mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld @chesthairrry

@becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

367 notes · View notes

little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 month

Note

I know you've written something similar with Bucky hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child buy what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Rayleigh got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child

hii!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay (about the hearing heartbeats as don’t think he can do that) but I love the idea!! other fic is HERE. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

FIVE WEEKS SINCE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — fluff/ angst?

word count. 957

Over a month ago, you and Bucky made the mistake of sharing a hotel room, and it consequentially led to the pair of you indulging in those romantic feelings you knew you always had for each other. At the time, it felt far from a misstep, but the awkwardness that followed made it all feel like a huge mistake.

A following three weeks later —two weeks ago— you found out some life-altering information - discovering that you were pregnant. You knew that it was the work of you and Bucky during that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to share the news. Recently, he's acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt completely isolated as you wallowed in the feeling by yourself.

During those weeks of uncertainty, you confided in Natasha, essentially using her for support until you worked up enough courage to tell Bucky. She was far more helpful than she gave herself credit for, and slowly but surely, you started to get there in terms of bravery.

You were all currently spending the night at a safe house, sleeping over to resume your mission the next day. Everyone grouped off to share rooms.

It was late, all but you sure to be fast asleep. But you couldn't drift off, something undecided going on with your body - you couldn't figure out what it needed; was it food, water? Something to steady the nauseous feeling in your gut? You weren't sure, so you decided to head down to the kitchen, creeping out of the room quietly, trying not to wake Nat.

As you make your way downstairs, you see the silhouette of someone in the fridge, their back dark - the outline of them lit up by the yellow-white light. You wanted to turn around, not wanting to talk in your moody, tired state, but it was too late. The creak of the last few steps alerting them of your presence.

It was Bucky. And the look on his face was just as uncomfortable as yours.

"I'm just about to go," he murmurs, avoiding you, turning his attention to the open cupboard of glasses.

You roll your neck, working out the kink as you step into the kitchen - it wasn't small, but the space was far too tight for two people who couldn't bear to be in the same room. "No, it's fine. I was just getting a drink," you shrug, standing off to the side of him as you wait to collect a glass.

Instead, he turns to you, handing you one. "Juice is on the counter," he nods, gesturing to the island behind.

"Thanks," you smile reasonably, uncapping the bottle and pouring yourself a glass. But when Bucky steps over, you hand him yours, taking his to fill for yourself.

He takes a quick swig and thanks you, looking around the room awkwardly.

"Do you know where the cookies are?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.

He nods softly and reaches into another cupboard, pulling out a pack of cookies. He opens the packet and hands it to you, acting courteous.

"Thank you," you smile sweetly, offering him the first one.

With a soft shake of his head, he declines.

"Can't sleep?" you ask.

"No. You?"

"No."

And as he begins to step back, you decide to speak up - not wanting him to leave just yet. "Hey, uhm," you pause, fiddling with the cookie wrapper. "We haven't really spoken... how you been?"

"Uh, doing good," he nods faintly, clearly holding back. "Have you— are you good?"

You nod, also holding back.

"Good," he nods, lips in a forced straight line. Feet turning away, itching to leave the room.

"James," you hesitated, clutching at straws - desperate to keep him around just a little longer.

His movement halts, and he twists back to face you. The simple call of his real name brings back memories of the two of you before all the awkwardness.

"I'm..." you inhale sharply, thinking of the words. "I need to tell you something, and I—" you shake your head, stilling your wavering voice.

He takes a small step closer, leaving a comfortable distance between you. "Tell me what?" he asks, the desperation clear in his eyes - his body language growing anxious.

"A couple weeks ago... I found out I'm pregnant," you whisper, momentarily closing your eyes - cowering away. "And I don't know what to do," you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. "It's a lot... and I didn't know how to tell you, but you should know."

The silence is deafening. Bucky's being far too quiet, and it makes you feel sick. You finally meet his gaze and watch the contrasting emotions play out on his face - he's clearly trying to process it all.

"I know the timing isn't great, and things aren't good with us," you try to be mature, attempting to patch things over. "It was a shock for me too, but I just..." you sigh, waiting for him to say something. "I don't expect anything from you, it's okay. I get it."

He nods, seeming to have collected himself. "Let's talk everything over, okay? Talk it all through, clear the air," he offers with a half smile, closing the gap with another step forward.

"Now?" you ask, thrown off by his sudden cooperation and interest.

"Yeah, we'll sit on the back porch," he nods through the kitchen window, gesturing to the deck chairs. "You tell me everything, I'll tell you everything. We'll sort this out."

You're pleased with the progress you're making, and your forced smile turns into a real one - the first real one he's seen of yours in a while. "Yeah. I'd like that."

I spent way too long trying to understand the pregnancy time frame of conception and implantation😭😭

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader

553 notes · View notes

st4rfckerz · 3 months

Text

Farmboy | Farmhand!Anakin Skywalker x Farmers!daughter

word count: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI 18+, oral (male receiving), face fucking (if you squint), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slow(ish) buildup, not proofread

summary: Anakin is your family's farmhand and after inviting him to dinner, you can't keep your hands to yourself

Your family owned a farm out West, not far from the outskirts of town. It was quiet, as farms often are. The land was hilly, rolling out as far as you could see. The sun was shining, and the blue sky was bright with few clouds in it. The sound of horses and the wind rustling through the trees was all you heard. The air was crisp, and there was a slight tang of wildflowers.

Anakin was one of the farmhands that your family had hired a few months ago, a man who was quiet but skilled. As one of their hired hands, he was responsible for helping with the maintenance of the farm's livestock and machinery. His primary role was to ensure everything ran smoothly, which meant keeping the animals fed and watered while fixing broken machinery when needed.

It was midday when you approached him in the garden shed with a worried expression on your face. "Ani, I need your help. The sheep pen collapsed, and I can't find any tools nearby." Panic was evident in your voice, hinting at the potential consequences of leaving the sheep unattended for too long. Anakin followed you back to the dimly lit barn and you found the sheep wandering around their stalls, bleeting softly.

"I see," he muttered looking at the pen, he glanced over where the sheep were grazing. "I hope nothing else broke." he says under his breath, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of damage. He walked forward, whistling for the sheep that were scattered, and they came to him. He began leading them towards their pen, some were very fussy about it and didn’t want to go, yet he remained calm and gentle.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," Anakin assured you, stepping over the fence and rummaging through the debris left by the fallen wood.

"You need me to help with anything?" you stand near him awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“Nope. I got it under control,” He said calmly, continuing to lead the sheep. You admired his patience and his ability to stay so level headed. "You can just sit there and look pretty while I get this done." Anakin shoots you a slick smile that makes your insides turn a little.

"I won't be bothering you?" you ask as you sit down on a bale of hay.

"You won't be bothering me at all sweetheart," He says, his eyes traveled over your body and he smirked at you. "You can be my moral support." He leans against the aged wall of the barn. His stance was relaxed, very casual as he was being nonchalant, but with you he was a little different. Something about you made him like this.

Anakin couldn't help but notice how good you looked in their simple dress, its hemline brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough skin to drive him wild. The sunset cast a warm, golden light over your body, creating a delicate glowy outline around your figure. It was almost like the sun was wrapping itself around you.

"You know you could stay for supper if you'd like," you suggest, breaking the silence of the barn. "I'm sure my folks won't mind." He watched as you leaned back on the bale of hay, and he couldn't help but notice your dress riding up a little. It was a small thing to notice, but he saw it.

Your dress wasn't that short, by any means, but the way it rode up on your legs was enough to make Anakin notice you. His gaze drifted down to your legs, and back up to your face.

"Oh I don't know, I don't wanna intrude or anything-" You smiled and cut him off, stopping him in his tracks.

"Please Ani? Just this once?" You walked over to him, and with that sweet tone in your voice, you were playing him like a fiddle. It was clear that your invitation was genuine, you wanted him to stay so you could keep his company. He smiled at you and looked away from your eyes for a moment. When he looked back at you, he was slightly speechless. The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn't speak, he wasn't used to someone that could make him flustered.

"Well, alright I s'pose I could join you." Anakin smiles. "What's mama bear fixin' up tonight?"

he smirked at you, his expression was playful, but you could tell he was serious. You laughed lightly at the silly nickname he often uses for you mother.

“She’s making beef stew, with biscuits. All from scratch, too.” you explain. "And there's fresh apple pie for dessert." His smile showed he was interested, and he couldn't help but admire your beauty. You looked like a little doll, with sweet doe eyes that could disarm any man.

"Then I'll be there." His voice had a masculine yet flirty quality to it, and it sent shivers down your spine. It was like music to your ears.

"Good, I'll see you later farmboy." You tease, knocking his hip with your own as you walked past him. You felt his eyes devouring you whole, looking at your sweet face and the sway of your hips.

As he continues to fix the pen, he can't help but think about the upcoming dinner. He's never had dinner with you and your family before, so he wondered how it would go. He didn't know if he'd be welcome, but you said they wouldn't mind, and you're pretty much like a little princess in their eyes so it shouldn't go wrong at all.

The evening rolled around, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, ready for the dinner to begin. Your family was already seated around the table, discussing various things. They all seemed pretty jovial, and you could hear the occasional laughter, as well as bits of conversation.

You looked around and expected to see Anakin walking through the door at any second, yet he was a bit late which was out of character for him.

Just as you thought he might've bailed last minute, Anakin's voice draws your attention towards the door, where he was finally walking in. His expression had a hint of embarrassment, since he was later than he thought he'd be. He had a shy yet sheepish look on his face, as if he expected you or your family to reprimand him.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking at you, "I'm a bit late."

"Ani! I was afraid you flaked out on us." you joke as you abruptly got up from your seat to greet him. When Anakin saw you get up and come closer to him, he was initially confused as to why. But then you envelope him in a tight hug, catching him completely off guard. He didn't know how to respond, as he was taken aback by your show of affection.

"No, I'd never do a thing like that." he responds.

He hugged you back, his hands squeezing you tightly as you felt his body pressing against yours. He was caught by surprise, and he didn't expect you to show any affection. His body stiffened up as you hugged him, as he remained still.

However, he felt a wave of warmth rush through him and it caused him to relax into the hug. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling a new feeling of closeness between you both.

"Come eat, there's plenty of food." You let go of the embrace, but you still keep your hands on him, dragging him to the seat right next to you. He didn't hesitate to follow you, nor did he show any opposition. You both sit down, with you being right next to Anakin. You pull yourself slightly close to him, close enough that he could feel it.

Anakin's eyes look up at your father, his expression showing a bit of anxiety. Your father smiles warmly at him, and welcomes him to the table. Anakin smiles back in response, looking down at the table a bit. Your father proceeds to sit down, as does the rest of your family. The dinner proceeds like normal, everyone engaging in conversation with one another.

"So Anakin, how's everything been?" your father asks, his aged, gravelly voice booming throughout the room.

"I've been quite fine sir, same old news." Anakin says, smiling a bit as he takes a bite from his biscuit.

"Anakin fixed the sheep pen today." The conversation shifts as you interject, causing Anakin's attention to look up. Your words get everyone's attention, as they all look at Anakin, who is sitting to the side.

"Oh, did he?" your father says, looking at him. Anakin's ears pick up, and he looks over towards you. Your father continues, "I'm sure the sheep are happy." He blushes slightly, nodding his head humbly as he looks at your dad.

Your mother pipes up with her own question, pointing the discussion in another direction.

"So Anakin, what do you do in your free time?"

Anakin answers, keeping his tone relaxed and level.

"Nothin' too special really," he says, taking a few moments to respond, "Just hang around, or fix things. Y'know how it is." He's cordial, polite, and has a soft attitude.

He treats you with respect, yet his attention keeps flicking back towards you again and again, as if he was drawn to your charms. You felt as if you were a magnet to him, as he always looked over at you after he said anything.

As you lean forward to grab the salt, your fingers brush against Anakin's thigh under the table, a subtle gesture that sends a thrill through both of you. He raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He knows exactly what you're doing. You quickly return to your seat, trying to hide your flushed cheeks under the low light.

"The food is really good mom." you smile sweetly at her. While you speak, your fingers graze along Anakin's growing bulge under the table, a subtle hint of your growing attraction.

Anakin's eyes meet yours for a brief moment, he swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure as he continues the conversation. The tension between you two is palpable, yet unnoticed by the rest of the family.

Dinner comes to an end, and your mother presents a homemade apple pie for dessert. The family cheers in appreciation, and you can't help but smile at the delicious aroma wafting through the room. The scent of apple pie creates a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Anakin compliments your mother on the meal, his eyes never straying far from yours.

As everyone digs into the apple pie, you feel Anakin's hand gently slide in between your thighs under the table. You try your hardest to suppress the smile creeping onto your face, the connection between you two growing stronger with each passing moment. The dessert is sweet, but it's nothing compared to the warmth you feel inside.

When you finish eating your piece of pie, you stand up and gather your plate and utensils, turning to head towards the kitchen sink. Anakin follows closely behind. You work side by side, the clinking of dishes echoing through the kitchen.

Anakin's hands are large and rough from farm work, but they move gracefully as he washes the dishes. He looks at you, his expression calm but also full of appreciation.

"It was nice having dinner with your family." he tells you, "thanks for inviting me over."

You give him a smile and use a nearby towel to wipe your hands. "It was no problem, they enjoyed your company." He smiles back, his jaw firm but his eyes showing that he was genuinely pleased.

Just as your family enters the kitchen with their now empty plates, you lean in close to Anakin, your voice barely above a whisper. "Meet me in the barn in five minutes." you say, your eyes filled with anticipation. Anakin's gaze locks onto yours for a moment before he nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your father approaches, engaging Anakin in conversation about the farm and the upcoming town festival. You turn to your mother, your cheeks flushed but your voice steady. "I'll be right back, I just need to check on the chicken coop."

Your mother doesn't seem to suspect anything unusual since this was usually the time you'd check on the chickens anyway. "Take your time, dear. We'll be in here for a bit longer." She waves you off, her smile warm and understanding.

You wait for everyone to settle down before slipping out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind you. The moonlit night casts a pearlescent glow over the yard, illuminating the path leading to the barn. You hurry inside, your heart racing with exhilaration.

Anakin watches you leave, his eyes never leaving yours as you exit the house. He knows what's coming next, and he can't help but feel a whirlwind of trepidation. The anticipation killing him, but he forces himself to continue the conversation with your father, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

Finally, your father finishes his glass of sweet tea and stands up, nodding goodbye to Anakin after he explains that he should be heading home.

The sound of crickets and distant frogs filled the air as Anakin walks towards the barn, his boots rustling against the grass beneath him. He approaches the old barn slowly, his heart racing faster than a stallion at the starting gate. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the night. He called out your name softly, his voice tinged with anticipation. The barn is dimly lit, with the moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

As he stepped inside, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. You were there, your eyes locked onto his.

"Hi." you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief. The barn feels smaller now, the air thick with tension. Your eyes lock onto each other, and the crickets chirping outside seem to grow louder. Anakin takes a step towards you, his confidence wavering only slightly.

"Hey," his tone is softer than normally, you could tell just from his voice he was nervous. His eyes are locked on you, scanning every inch of your body. "Your folks know you're in here?" he asks.

You shake your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile. "I told them I'm checking on the chickens." His eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement playing on his face.

Anakin clicks his tongue while shaking his head teasingly. "You shouldn't be lyin' to your parents sweetheart." He looks at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, as if you made him feel special with a simple remark.

"Technically, I glanced over there when i was walking over here." you state matter-of-factly. Anakin steps closer to you, his fingers brushing the little strands of hair out of your face. His eyes never leaving yours. His touch is gentle, yet electric, making your heart race even faster. You step closer to him and you can't help but feel the pull between you two. The barn feels comforting and inviting, a secret haven away from the world.

"You look real pretty tonight." Anakin compliments sincerely, his hand still resting on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You nuzzle your cheek against Anakin's big palm. "Thanks," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the silence of the barn.

Anakin's thumb traces a line along your lower lip, teasingly brushing against the corner of your mouth. His hand moves to your waist, his fingertips grazing the hem of your dress, sending electric currents through your body. Anakin leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle peck. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching for your reaction. Seeing your approval, he leans in again, this time with more intensity. His kiss is soft yet passionate, filled with a sense of longing.

The kiss intensifies, your lips pressing harder against each other, tongues dancing in a rhythm only you two understand. Anakin's hands slide into your hair, pulling you closer, his breath hitching in your mouth. You break the kiss, trailing your lips against the rough stubble along his jaw. He groans softly, his hand tightening on your hair.

"Been thinkin' about you all day," Anakin panted between breaths. He grips your waist to pull you impossibly closer as you continue to explore his neck with your lips. "You and that damn dress." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, massaging them roughly through the thin fabric of your dress.

You giggle softly, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck. "You're that worked up over a dress, Ani?" Anakin whines quietly in response, his hips desperately bucking in your direction. You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on Anakin's. His eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly dropped to your knees, your hands reaching for his belt buckle. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, his cock straining against his pants.

Your hands reach for the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down, revealing his muscular thighs. You reach down further, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his underwear. With a quick tug, they fall to the ground revealing his thick cock, hard and ready just for you.

"You're killing me kid." He managed to croak out as you slowly wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it gently. You lean forward and kiss his angry red tip. It twitches in anticipation, leaking a small amount of precum onto your lip. Your tongue darts out, tentatively exploring the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste. You moan softly, your hands reaching down to cup his balls, massaging them gently.

Anakin's hands grip your hair tightly, his moans turning into groans of pleasure as you continue to tease him. "F-fuckin' hell," he growls, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You stroke the part of him that doesn't fit into your mouth, your fingers gliding up and down his length. You can feel him twitching, his body trembling under your touch.

His cock pulses in your hand and his breaths come in ragged gasps. You gag slightly, your eyes watering, but you don't pull away. Instead, you take as much of him as you possibly can.

" 'M close- hold on, I'm- ah!" His cock twitches violently in your mouth, shooting a hot stream of cum down your throat. You swallow it unhesitatingly, eager to please him. Gazing up at Anakin, your eyes is fixed on his. He's panting heavily, his hands shaking slightly. His eyes are filled with admiration and desire. You can feel the heat of his gaze, and it makes you blush slightly.

"Come 'ere," he says, his voice hoarse. He pulls you to your feet, his lips crashing into yours. His tongue dances with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands wandering over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer. As you kiss Anakin, you can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressing against your thigh. He slowly walks forward, guiding you towards the small tractor in the back of the barn. His lips never leave yours, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch. He moans into the kiss, slapping his big hand against the fat of your ass. "Turn around for me baby." he commands.

Anakin bends you over the tractor, and flips your dress up, exposing your pink cotton panties to him. He strokes the growing wet spot gently, his fingers grazing your bare skin.

"Jesus, she's practically dripping for me." he whispers, his voice filled with lust. His hands move to your panties, tugging them to the side, revealing your swollen, hot flesh. He licks his lips, his eyes locked onto your slobbering cunt. His cock pulses, ready to be inside you.

Anakin lines up his cock with your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasp, your body adjusting to his girth. He holds onto your hips, guiding himself inside you. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely. You moan softly, your body quickly getting used to his size. "Thaaat's it, angel." he praises, his voice low and alluring. "Let me in."

His hips move slowly at first, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your body responds, your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper. Anakin's breaths come in ragged gasps as he starts to move faster, his hips slamming into you, each thrust sending you further onto the tractor.

You cry out as he sweetly rolls his abdomen, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each movement. The tractor creaks under your weight, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the barn.

"Takin' me so good baby." he growls, you can feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely.

"M-more Ani," you beg, your voice hoarse. "Need more-"

"Yeah? You want more?" he rasps, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. Anakin pulls you up by your neck and your back is now pressed against his chest. He thrusts harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every movement. You yelp in surprise, your nails digging into the arm he has wrapped around your shoulders to keep your body flush against his. "There you go, you can take it, I know you can."

"Needy little girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "Just couldn't keep your hands off me at dinner, shit, could've bent you over that damn table and fucked you raw in front of your folks if I wanted to."

You moan, your head thrown back, your body moving with his. Your walls flutter around him when you hear his vulgar words.

He chuckles, his hands gripping your neck tighter. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Oh, you're dirty." He turns your head roughly, his lips crashing into yours, kissing you messily.

His tongue duels with yours, his hands gripping your neck tighter, holding you in place. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling. "Ani- cumming, c-cumming!" You can't form any coherent words, your breath coming in gasps as you neared your climax.

"Let go sweetheart, I got you," Anakin's breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. You cry out as your orgasm quickly wracks over your body, your cunt contracting tightly around his cock. "That's my girl, c'mon." His breath comes in ragged gasps, and sweat trickles down his forehead, his chest heaving. It takes a few more powerful thrusts for him to fully unload inside you, his cum filling you up completely.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and carefully withdraws from you, his cock glistening with your wetness. He hastily pulls up his pants and adjusts himself.

"You did so good for me." he whispers, his voice filled with awe. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. "You look even prettier now," he says, his eyes filled with admiration.

He reaches up, fixing your hair, his fingers grazing your face. "You best get back to the house," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You know I'll be here tomorrow."

You nod, your cheeks flushed, your heart still racing from your encounter with him. "Mhm," you hum quietly. He smirks, his eyes filled with mischief.

You smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks when he leans in and brings his lips to yours one last time.

Anakin leads you towards the barn door, his hand still wrapped around yours. "I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart." he coos, his voice filled with promise.

You nod, your cheeks still flushed, your heart racing. "See you, farmboy." you say, your voice shaky. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you step out of the barn, your body still buzzing from the encounter. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, watching you every step of the way. You glance back, catching him standing by his truck, his hands on his hips, watching you walk away.

You enter the house, trying to compose yourself. Your parents were still awake, sitting in the living room, sipping on their drinks. They didn't notice anything amiss about you, thankfully. You made your way upstairs to your room, still feeling the evidence of your encounter between your legs.

You feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Anakin will be waiting for you at that old barn, ready to have you whenever he wants.

#nai writes ୨୧ #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen #st4rfckerz

907 notes · View notes

fleur-bbyy · 10 months

Text

SINFUL SUMMER

it’s the first day of vacation and lucifer already can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you.

𓇼 lucifer x fem reader

𓇼 warnings: unprotected p in v sex, semi-public(?), creampie, reader wears a bikini, reader wears sunscreen for anti-aging purposes (pls wear your sunscreen!!!), sub reader, lil oral fixation if you squint real hard

𓇼 a/n: 1.6k words of my own fantasy. I was gonna post all the summer stuff together but i’m scared I won’t finish it all in time and was too excited for this one lol. also if it wasn’t clear, it’s one of those cabanas that’s covered on all sides and has curtains at the front, they’re in the jockey position lol, and it’s one of those lounge chairs where the back adjusts. (plz forgive me for not being that descriptive i was excited)

As the sun beams off his clothed back and his feet begin to burn from standing in the hot sand, Lucifer comes to a realization.

You are quite literally his worst nightmare.

Pretty in the face and so, so naive to any of his lustful advances. An innocent request for him to help you apply sunscreen to your back should be just that, innocent. It shouldn’t be so daunting or feel so inappropriate for a man as respected as he was. Scanning over your barely-clothed back as you rub the contents of the tube on your arms. His ruby eyes linger far too long on the dangerously thin fabric on your lower half. He wanted to tell you that your bikini left far too little to the imagination, but he shouldn’t have been imagining that anyway.

“You’re laying inside a covered cabana, you don’t need it.”

"Do you expect me to spend the whole day in here?" You turned to look at him, smiling as your hands began to run the spf over your collarbones. "Besides, the sun still reaches me. I don’t want my skin to be saggy and feel like leather when I’m older." Lucifer crosses his arms and mentally eye rolls: You’ve been hanging around Asmo too much.

"Fine. Finish up everything else and then tell me what you need." You smile once more in victory and continue to cover your front with the lotion. Lucifer stands in the doorway, arms still crossed, a seemingly calm expression resting on his face. His eyes stayed transfixed on your body for the majority of the time, glancing over his shoulder once to see his brothers doing their own thing in the sea and snapping right back over to you as you bent over slightly to reach your legs. Your bikini bottoms riding up even further than before and exposing more of your skin. His eyes widening a bit more when he noticed the outline of your cunt peeking through the fabric, causing the air to feel a bit hotter and his swim trunks to tighten a little more around the crotch.

"Okay, need you now." you said, beginning to lie down on the chair and handing him the tube of sunscreen in the process, his fingers accidentally brushing yours as he grabbed it and he swears you let them linger on purpose. He stood over to the side of you and began to gather the lotion in his hand before you stopped him.

“Don’t be awkward. Sit over my legs.”

Lucifer paused after hearing you voice your request like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He lightly sighed and reluctantly moved to straddle your legs, his half chub barely a few centimeters away from your plump ass. Lucifer contemplated whether you knew what you were doing or not. You had to feel it; there’s no way you didn’t feel it prodding against your thigh as he began to smooth the lotion down your back. holding back a groan when you arched into his touch.

“How exactly does sitting like this help?”

“You’ll reach better. Besides, wouldn’t want you to throw your back out, old man.” You lightly laughed at your own joke and Lucifer rolled his eyes, hands moving to the center of your back. “You’re good at this, should be a masseur.”

He wasn’t able to respond, having to bite the inside of his cheek as you arched even more into him. Your ass dangerously close to his hardening cock. He paused to grab more sunscreen and was about to continue before you stopped him again.

“You missed a spot near my shoulders.”

He slowly leaned forward, relishing in the feeling of his clothed cock finally making contact with your ass but trying to avoid it at the same time. Using his legs to lightly hold himself above you and starting to cover the spot that he missed when he heard a soft moan escape from your lips and your hips push into him even more.

There’s no way you didn’t know what you were doing. There was absolutely no way you didn’t feel his hardened length pressed into you. His hands slowly dragged down your back, stopping at your waist and giving an experimental small roll of his hips into yours, feeling a glorious sensation when you moaned a bit louder. He continued to roll his hips against you, biting back small grunts and groans when you started to meet his thrusts with the roll of your own hips. One of Lucifer’s hands slowly traveling from your waist to the edge of your bikini bottoms, pulling them to the side and shivering at the sight of the strings of your arousal sticking to them. He slowed his hips to get a good look at your soaking cunt and ran his index finger up and down your slit.

“Do you want this?” He asked, fingers running over your sopping entrance and examining the way they shined with your essence. You frantically nodded your head, not trusting yourself to speak without getting too loud. “I need to hear you say it.”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself before whispering out a quick "yes." You felt him shuffle behind you and shortly after felt his tip prodding at your entrance. rubbing himself up and down your slit to gather your wetness before he slowly began to sink in. inch by inch with shallow thrusts.

“Ohh fuck.. that’s it. You feel too good.” Your toes curled and pussy gushed at his words. Allowing him to sink even further into you

He was big. Barely half way inside, and you already felt so full of him. grasping at whatever you could and beginning to roll your hips into him once more, eliciting a sharp hiss from the man.

“Need you to open up for me.” His breath was hot on your neck as he leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Can’t. You’re too big.”

“None of that. You can be good for me.” One of his hands positioned your hips up even more, giving him access to your neglected clit. “She can be good for me too.”

You moan when he begins circling your clit. Feeling your arousal drip down and lubricate his working finger. His thrusts starting to speed up and his free hand tracing up your spine to pull the string holding your bikini top together, giving him full access to your back. Everything coupled together gave your cunt to final push to open up completely. Moaning even louder when he finally pushes all the way in. Your whines and moans crescendoing to the point that Lucifer has to clamp a hand down over your mouth and pray that one of his brother’s didn’t hear anything.

“Naughty thing,” he began, sticking one of his slender fingers into your mouth and grinning when you immediately start to suck, “this is what you wanted the entire time, didn’t you? Wanted to rile me up and fuck you where anybody could walk in and see?”

Beads of sweat begin to gather on both of your faces from the summer’s heat and the intensity of the current activity. Some rolling down Lucifer’s face and landing in small droplets on your back that he lovingly wiped away after removing his fingers from your mouth.

“Are you going to be good and quiet for me?” You didn’t answer. Not trusting yourself to speak and worried you’d let out another loud whine instead.

“That just won’t do,” his thrusts slowed and he pulled his hand back from your aching clit, “answer me.”

“Yes. Yes I’ll be good. I promise.” You said through gritted teeth. Even with his agonizingly slow thrusts, the steady drag of his cock on your walls practically made you shiver. Feeling him hit every ridge as he pulled out and pushed back in.

“Then cum for me. Want to feel you.”

Before you could even try to start fucking yourself on him, he picked up the pace again. Going even faster and harder than before and causing your body to bounce up and down on the lounge chair. The grip on your left side becoming ironclad and his hand once again sneaking to rub expert circles on your clit. His heavy balls knocking his fingers every time he plunged into your heat.

Your orgasm comes soon after with a strangled moan. Burying your face in your hands to try and muffle yourself but to no avail. Lucifer also begins to gradually lose himself as he works you through your pleasure. The clenching and spasming of your cunt around him causes the fingers on your clit to fumble in rhythm and move sloppily. His grunts and groans gradually getting louder and his thrusts speeding up just a tad more before you finally feel that familiar warmth as he spills inside of you. Panting and biting his bottom lip to quiet himself.

The air in the cabana was still thick with sex as the two of you recovered. Finally looking over and noticing that the chair had moved at least a foot away from its original position and your tube of sunscreen had been leaking out onto the sand the entire time. Lucifer carefully pulled out of you and admired how his cum dripped from your pussy. Using two of his fingers to push any that had trickled out back into your spent hole before fixing your bottoms and tying your bikini top back to it’s original position. Finally adjusting himself and getting off of you after making sure you were alright.

“Are you going to stay here?” He asked, his voice quickly returning to its stern nature as he crossed his arms over his chest once again.

“Think so.” You turned your head to look over at him and propped yourself up on your arms, watching as he began to leave to check on the others. “Thank you, by the way.” He stopped in the entryway, glancing over at you with a grin and half-lidded eyes.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

2K notes · View notes

fayes-fics · 8 months

Text

Comfort

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict comforts his new wife when her courses arrive…

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Thanks to @colettebronte for help with the title. Request fill for anon HERE, where Benedict comforts his new wife when her period arrives overnight. This might be the most saccharine-sweet fluff I have ever written. For my usual smut peeps… err, apologies? Normal filth will resume shortly, I'm sure lol. <3

You stir from your slumber to a dreaded dampness you know far too well.

Oh dear heavens, no!

Overnight, your courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but you had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. You had put your tiredness down to the exhaustive social whirlwind of your first ball as a Bridgerton. The dull lower back pain you had felt merely due to traipsing around the extensive grounds the host was keen to show off to all and sundry.

For a few moments, you lay staring frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. You can tell that your nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. You had plans to inform your lady's maids to prepare the following night. Trust your body to be at least a day early when you least need it.

Next to you, your new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. You roll your head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bite your lip in anxiety.

Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?

____

You had been taught a few things in the run-up to marriage by your Mama. One of them was never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to your husband—it was a matter for you and your maids to deal with. On the nights you were “visited”, you were strongly counselled to sleep in your room rather than with your husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. This may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but your mother probably never considered how non-traditional your husband would turn out to be.

Hours after your nuptials, upon arrival at your new marital home - a wonderful brick townhouse just a few streets from Bridgerton House - you had politely inquired where your bedchamber was. At first, he laughed, then frowned when he realised you were serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for you separate from his.

“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing you into his arms and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“But… every night?” you stuttered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of you as a wife.

“Yes darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.

____

Since that day, you have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, you have never slept better in your life than in the two weeks since your wedding, falling asleep securely in his arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…

…Well, that is until now.

Now, you have no earthly idea what to do.

You surmise it must be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as your eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, you gingerly push back the bedspread and slide out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, you catch sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against your white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, your fears are fully realised when you see a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where you slept.

Horrified, you fly into a flurry of movements. Wanting to hide both your nightgown and the sheets you have sullied, albeit unintentionally. You slip as silently as you are able to the linen supplies cupboard and gather terrycloths designed for bathing. One, you wrap around yourself; another two, you decide to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until your husband leaves the bedroom.

You cannot wait to bathe but know that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.

Once back next to your side of the bed, you push the covers towards the middle and start to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop, to stop the evidence from spreading. You glance furtively at your husband as you work, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards you, as he often is when you awaken.

In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love?

You move as stealthily as you can, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by your husband's weight pinning down the other side. Just as you are fighting with both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, you hear a sudden sharp intake of breath.

Oh no! He is awake.

His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.

“What on earth are you doing, my love?” his voice is deep and rough with sleep.

You whip your hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising you are also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under your breath as you attempt to reach for the upper cover and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as you are beside the bed.

“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by your agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.

Your eyeline falls reflexively upon what you are trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks yours. Unable to handle your embarrassment, you bury your head in your hands and slump backwards onto your heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.

“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” you mutter defeatedly behind your hands, ashamed.

You are expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What you do not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing your shoulder.

“Darling, please get up off the floor,” his ask caring, no rebuke to be heard.

Your head slowly tilts up, and to your shock, he is leaning over onto your side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing you mildly befuddled benevolence.

“But, I…” you trail off, even as he reaches for your hand.

“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of your situation.

Your mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what your Mama taught you to expect. While you flounder in surprise, he rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to your side, crouching next to you and drawing you into his arms.

“You… you are not repulsed?” you stutter as you recover, your brow creasing.

“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing your cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.

You get lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, accepting his doting kisses that make you feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth you have swaddled yourself in from the waist down.

“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as you nod demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in your scrambling efforts.

“Thank you, Benedict, so very much” you exhale, relieved and still slightly unmoored by his reaction.

His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under your ribs.

“Please, my love, it is literally nothing. We have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his butler and presently provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed by the maids.

“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” you check as soon as you are alone again.

He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes your heart skip a beat as he nuzzles your temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.

“But, what if one of us is sick?” you inquire as he helps you to stand up from the floor, pulling you into his arms.

“‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” he jests warmly into your ear as his hands rub your lumbar spine with a pattern that soothes the ache you feel there.

“What if you must travel for your art?” you challenge.

“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that you can't help but giggle at.

“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” your question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on your cheeks at the very thought.

He cups your jaw gently and tilts your face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in the raising of our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe shakily, scarcely able to believe that the man you married is nothing like how your mother had warned. It makes you feel so grateful you cannot stop your emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.

A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes without comment; he just accepts your state, bussing a kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you, y/n,” he breathes, warm air gusting over your skin.

“I love you too, Benedict,” your reply muffled into his neck as you mould into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps on the door to convey that your bath is ready.

And true to his word, over the years, you are never a night without your husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through children and even grandchildren. It is always his face you see just before your eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Your safe space. Your comfort.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader

1K notes · View notes

judeswhore · 11 months

Text

taste on my tongue; jude bellingham

summary: you’re always open to new things in the bedroom

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, oral (m), throat fucking basically

notes: you can find my masterlist here. this was originally a hey jude ask that i promised to write but i cant find the link to the prompt anymore :((

your head was hanging off the edge of the mattress, phone held up high as you scrolled through tiktok, eyes feeling a little heavy lidded with the need for sleep. you could hear jude in the bathroom, switching the shower off, the low sounds of him humming an unknown tune growing louder as he walked through the door. you remained in your spot, dropped your phone to the bed and watched him upside down.

he had a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. water droplets still clung to his skin, slipped down along the ridges in his muscles and got lost in the ladder of hair leading into the towel. you could see the outline of his cock through the material and you swallowed, eyed it with unfiltered hunger.

"need to grab some more of that body wash you use, i just finished the bottle." he announced, watching you curiously with his brows pressed together, wondering why you were half hanging off his bed. he came a little closer, swiped his thumb lovingly over your cheek.

"you used all my body wash?"

"was only a little bit left." you weren't sure that was true but arguments failed you because jude had a look in his eyes. that look that said he was seconds away from ruining you. his fingers trailed the soft skin of your throat, completely exposed to him and you shuddered, blinked heavily at the bulge that was growing bigger under the towel. "you've never sucked my dick like this before."

"you've never asked me to." your words were slightly breathy, voice wavering when his palm found your cheek again, thumb against your bottom lip. you licked teasingly at the pad. "could do it now."

"now?"

"uh huh, y'know, if you want to." you reached out and smoothed your palm over his cock, annoyed the towel was still in the way. jude blew out a breath and pressed a little further into your hand. it was a little awkward from your angle but he didn't seem to mind, his eyes locked on yours.

"do you want to?"

"i always wanna suck you off." you muttered and he blew out a breathy laugh at that, bent down so he could kiss you, a soft brush of his mouth over yours before he was straightening up again. he tugged the towel open and let it fall to the floor, your gaze trailing over his thighs and half hard cock. he spit into his hand before wrapping his fist around the base and your stomach tightened.

"we can stop whenever you want to, just tap my thigh twice, yeah?"

"yeah." jude pumped his cock a few times to get himself hard, fist squeezing the tip as he gave a soft hiss. you weren't sure where to look, you wanted to watch the way his fingers teased over his cock, how his chest glistened from the left over droplets of water, the soft look of pleasure on his face as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. you settled on his cock, a desperate neediness taking over as you pressed your thighs together.

"open up f'me, baby." he mumbled, voice a little rough with want. his thumb brushed over your cheek, slid across your bottom lip as you let your jaw tip open. jude tapped his cock against your cheek and then he was pressing it into your mouth, his head falling back on a low moan at the first feel of you. you let yourself relax, thighs pressed tight together to dull the ache that was starting to grow. “oh, fuck.”

he only worked the first part of his cock passed your lips, careful at first not to push you too far for fear of hurting you despite the bubbling need in his chest. your lips suctioned around him, a happy hum vibrating through you as he slowly started to rock his hips, one of his hands holding the side of your face for leverage. you could hear his heavy breaths, the light hitches when your tongue swirled over him and your pussy fluttered, hole leaking with a need to be filled.

jude let out a breathless moan, his thighs tensing against your palms and you wished you could see him, could see the pinched look of pleasure on his face and the vein that bulged in his neck. you knew he’d look devastatingly pretty and you reminded yourself you wanted to record this next time. the heavy feel of his cock against your tongue was driving you insane but you wanted, needed, more. you needed him to fuck himself completely down your throat, to use you without hesitation. he was being too gentle and you knew that holding back was killing him.

nails sinking into the meat of his thighs you tugged, pulled so he hips would press further forward and more of his dick sunk passed your open lips. a garbled moan followed, muffled by jude’s skin and was quickly replaced by a disappointed whine when he pulled out, a trail of spit connecting your lips to his tip.

“babe-baby, wait.” you’d tried to pull jude back in but he laughed held you still, his cock teasingly just out of reach. he was soft when he wiped the spit from your lips, his gaze blown out with lust but somehow still loving when he glanced down at you. “i don’t wanna hurt you. we’ve never- you’ve never done it like this and i don’t wanna go too rough.”

you understood what he was saying, when you gave him head normally you’d be on your knees or between his legs, positions which were easy enough for you to take back control if you needed to. this position left you vulnerable, gave you very little control but that’s what you wanted. you wanted jude to take what he needed from you, to use you until he couldn’t stand straight. you knew you could take it. you curled your hands around his thighs and pulled him back towards you, tongue teasing over the head of his cock until he hissed.

“s’okay, i can take it. promise.” wet kisses were pressed against the underside of his length and he shuddered, blew out a shaky breath. “i’ll tap out if i need to but i want you to do this. please.” it was the soft plea that did him in, the desperate, needy tone you usually used when you wanted to cum and then he was sinking back into the heat of your mouth.

“always so fucking greedy. always want more.” jude was taunting you, teasing as the tip of his cock nudged the back of you throat and you gagged, nails sinking into his skin again. you relaxed into the mattress, let him buck his hips towards your face and fill your throat over and over, eyes closed as you focused on breathing through your nose. “feels good, baby. fuck, y’always take me so well.”

you made a muffled noise of appreciation at that and he tapped your cheek in acknowledgment, a soft slap before his palm was settling against your throat. he could see his cock bulging every time he fucked inside of you, filling out your throat and making him light headed. he squeezed just a little, rocked his hips slowly so he could feel the shape of his dick against his palm on every forward press.

the feeling of his hand on your throat was making you dizzy, an overwhelming need taking over your body. you were alight with want, needing desperately for him to touch you, to relieve some of the pressure that was building. you knew your pussy was soaked, had ruined your underwear and the sheets beneath you, begging for some sort of attention. your clit throbbed and your hole fluttered, a desperate sound getting mixed with a gag as it become too much having him pressed so deep.

jude was pulling out before you could tap his thigh, his cock sliding over your cheek and creating a mess you were too turned on to be embarrassed about. your own thighs were pressed tight together to dull the ache and you sighed when he released your throat and stroked your cheek.

“y’okay?” he asked and he sounded so wrecked a fresh wave of slick gushed from your pussy. you nodded as best you could, took a few deep breaths to calm your heart before you were tugging him closer again but he shook his head. “use your words, need to hear you say it.”

“m’okay. can you-“ you cleared your throat, shifted a little so you could see him properly and sent him a somewhat shy smile. “can you touch me?” jude’s eyes flickered to your legs and you opened them, wide enough so he could see the wet patch on the soft material. he gave a soft groan, nodded his head and stroked your jaw.

“shoulda asked before, baby. take your underwear off f’me.” you were quick to do as you were told, shuffling to get rid of the cotton, throwing it to the floor without a second glance as you let your legs fall open again. the cool air against the heat of your pussy made you want to moan, anticipation hot when jude moved closer to you. “poor girl, she’s just crying f’me. i’ll take care of you, yeah? make you cum for being such a good girl.”

you could only hum because he was sliding his cock back into your mouth, filling your throat with little warning but your lips wrapped around him immediately. he moaned softly when your tongue lathed over his skin, spit dripping along his shaft and over his balls. a surprised but pleased whine got lost in your throat when jude’s fingers finally made their way to your cunt. the pads of his fingers brushed through your wetness, gathered it and used it to circle your clit.

the pressure started off light and teasing, his touch barely there until your hips were rising off the bed and searching for more, frustrated sounds getting muffled by his dick. he brushed soft, slow circles, his pace similar to the one he was using to fuck your throat. it was too slow for your liking, you needed more and when your hips rose for the fourth time jude seemed to take pity on you. cock stuffed to the back of your mouth again, he made a gentle cooing noise.

“shh, i know, i know, s’okay.” he was smirking you could tell, a teasing lilt to his words. his other hand was back on your throat, light this time, just so he could feel his cock moving when he fucked in and out of you but he squeezed once. “relax f’me.” you hadn’t even realised how tense your body had gotten, the teasing swipes of his fingers on your clit making your muscles tighten. pushing a sigh from your nose you sunk into the mattress, spread your legs a little wider and was rewarded with increased pressure on your clit. “that’s a good girl. just let me do the work, yeah?”

so you did. you let him use your throat, quick, deep thrusts of his cock into your mouth as though he was fucking your pussy, each gag and muffled moan spurring him on. he kept a grip on your throat, the bulge in it sending him closer to his realise as his muscles tightened and his cock twitched. the fingers on your clit worked fast and messy just the way you liked, quick swipes and circles that made it almost impossible to think. you were on the edge within minutes, thighs shaking with the effort of keeping them open.

jude pressed a little quicker over your clit and then you were coming, hips rising from the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably as your nails bit into the flesh on his thighs. you couldn’t make much noise, each moan and whine, the soft sob when he didn’t stop, getting muffled by his cock. you’d gushed over the sheets, the small trickle of liquid dampening them and sending your boyfriend into a frenzy. he didn’t let up on your clit, worked you through your high even as it became too much and you wanted to cry from the sensitivity.

“shh, just take it, doing so well f’me. i’ve got you, baby, so fucking proud of you, yeah? did good.” he was rambling, the pace of his fingers slowing as he started to focus back on his own pleasure. when getting you to cum he’d half pulled out of your mouth, gave you a few moments to breathe but now he was fucking his full cock down your throat with new found vigour.

you gripped tight to his thighs and let him use you, jaw slack, tongue soft over his dick, throat relaxed so he could repeatedly hit the back of it. he was getting whiney, high pitched noises filling the room as his orgasm started to burn up his spine, stomach and thigh muscles pulling taut. the blunt head of his cock kept nudging the very back of your throat and a new, breathy moan would fall from jude’s lips when you tightened and squeezed around him, gagged just a little.

“fuck- m’gonna- oh- gonna cum, baby. gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow it like a good girl, okay?” his voice cracked, his hand tightening just a little on your neck as his dick twitched. “feels so good, you’re- fuck- you’re so hot. i love you, shit, i love you.”

jude shuddered as he came, a full body tremor that had you momentarily worried he’d collapse, his jaw slack as moans and whimpers bubbled from his throat. he was loud, louder than usual, babbling that he loved you and that you felt so good, his cum painting your tongue as he pulled out until only the head rested in your mouth. he’d wrapped his fist around himself again and was jerking quickly while you sucked softly at his tip, swallowed everything he gave you with happy hums and moans. he pulled back a little too early and another rope of cum decorated your cheek, your thumb catching it before it could make a mess of anything else.

“jesus christ.” jude blew out a breathless laugh with those words, stepped away and gave you the chance to finally sit up. you did so slowly, sucking your thumb into your mouth to clean away his cum and when you finally sat straight, jude was collapsed onto the bed, arm thrown over his eyes. you watched his chest heave, sweat slicking his skin, spent cock soft against his thigh. he looked mouth-wateringly hot and your pussy fluttered again, hole slick with the need to be full.

“y’okay?” you asked with a soft laugh, crawling across the bed to settle yourself on to his chest. his free arm immediately curled around your waist, a tired smile lightly up his face although he kept his eyes hidden.

“need a minute.” he mumbled, voice soft. you kissed his jaw, made your way over his chin and to his mouth, pecked his lips lovingly. “i don’t think i’ve ever came that hard before. i thought i was gonna pass out.” his lips brushed yours when he spoke and he gave you a light kiss in return.

“bit dramatic.” you teased, snuggling down against his chest. his heart beat rapidly beneath you, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths and you realised maybe he wasn’t being all that dramatic. you danced your fingers over his skin and he finally lowered his arm, met your gaze with his own adoring one.

he looked more fucked out than you’d ever seen him and it made you ache, hips pressing down so you could grind your clit against his skin. he made a low rumbling noise, gripped your hip tight as his brows drew together.

“can you fuck me now?” you asked, needy and desperate and beyond turned on by the wrecked sight beneath you. you needed him to fuck you, to press you down into the bed and use your pussy the way he’d used your throat but jude was staring at you in bewilderment. you rocked your hips again, whimpered when your clit rubbed against the hardness of his stomach.

“now?”

“uh huh, need it, jude.” you were whiney, pouting down at him as you built a steady pace, used him to get yourself off. he suddenly gave a laugh, eyes crinkling as he shook his head, arms tightening around you. with one quick move he’d flipped the two of you, settled you on your back on the mattress and pressed himself between your open thighs. you giggled at him, the noise growing louder as he bit playfully into the curve of your jaw.

“you’re insatiable, woman.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff

1K notes · View notes

sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Text

alastor helping his s/o ‘relax’ hcs ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (27/10/22)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; alastor / the radio demon

outline ; “May I please request hc of l alastor and reader with him trying to help them "relax" and "let off some steam" after they've been coming home late and over working themselves (he also might be feeling lonely with them not being around as much and growing a little possessive :)”

warning(s) ; possessive!alastor, sexual content, rough sex, marking kink, one reference to cannibalism, references to bleeding and overstimulation

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked!!!

working for the ‘happy hotel’ often translated into long hours chasing after your guests and even longer hours spent cleaning up the aftermath of whatever fresh hell you’d gotten yourselves into in order to retrieve them

and for as endlessly optimistic and helpful as your ‘boss’ (who felt more like a friend than an employer, frankly) could be, her responsibilities tended to fall beyond the scope of standard busywork which left you and a small handful of other demons to your own devices

nifty was the most helpful by far when it came to clean-up duty (as husk was usually off drinking to forget what you’d just played witness to and alastor was off doing things that only occasionally happened to help out the hotel)

but either way it was still a lot of work for you to handle and that meant that it had been a long while since you and your partner-in-death had been able to spend some time together

well, time that wasn’t spent discussing your work, that is

and after a good month of this, your patience had more than worn thin and the two of you agreed to take the rest of the day off and spend it as couples do

it’s the third day of the new month and you’re already beyond done by the time you stumble into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut with your heel as you groan and fight the urge to scream out your frustrations

and alastor is already waiting for you, the radio playing your song as he greets you with a grin — bright eyes scanning over you and taking you in for the first time in far too long

he keeps up the facade of polite concern for a few beats as you walk over to him and wrap your arms around him, pressing your lips to his as you take in his presence — his scent, his look, his voice, his everything — after so long spent apart

but then he presses a kiss to the crown of your head and pauses before his claws fly to your waist and he practically growls out something about it being far too long and him needing to reaffirm that you’re spoken for lest some more ungentlemanly demon try to stake his claim upon you

and that translates rather simply to a long day of toe-curling, mind-blanking, overwhelming, rough sex

your uniform (issued by vaggie, of course) is immediately torn off of you, shredded under sharp claws and carelessly discarded to the floor before you’re practically tossed onto the bed

his large hands roam up and down your body — groping, pinching, scratching and clawing every inch of bare skin that was exposed to him

and soon he started using his mouth in conjunction with this

not stopping until you were covered in marks — bites and bruises and scratches — that screamed ‘this one belongs to the radio demon’

then, finally satisfied with your state, he gives you both what you’ve been craving and finally takes you

he fucks you in every position the two of you can manage: riding, bending, twisting, laying, standing — anything and everything is on the table

until you’re screaming his name

until you’re so fucked out and cock drunk that you’re only able to cry and sob and scream for him

until you’re covered in blood and sweat and cum

until the sheets are peeling up at the corners and your mattress is practically hanging off of the bed

until he’s had his fill of you and knows that everyone else knows that you’re his — that he’s the only one who can touch you like this

then he will relent and roll off of you and summon some fresh food that he’d picked up earlier that day, happy to indulge you for being such an obedient and receptive toy

i hope you like the taste of earth-born sinners

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader #alastor smut #minors dni #minors fuck off #smut #smut hcs #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #first fandom request #minors will be blocked #ageless blogs dni #ageless blogs will be blocked

2K notes · View notes

cereovo · 9 months

Text

A set of very conceptual notes I drafted a while back for someone asking for advice on learning to draw humans. I'm entirely self-taught so this is less of a tutorial and more of a very rambling set of general principles I follow and ideas that helped while I was learning. I figured I'd post it in case anyone else could get use out of it!

I also recommend checking out:

Drawing East Asian Faces by Chuwenjie

How to Think When you Draw (lots of good tutorials in this series)

Pose reference sites such as Adorkastock

Transcript and some elaboration under the cut:

Img 1 - Drawing a face

The two most important elements (at least for me) when drawing a face are the outline of the cheek/jaw and the nose*. I often start with a circle to indicate the round part of the skull, then add a straight like and a 'V' to one side [to create the side of the face and the jaw]. The nose creates an easy template for the rest of the face's features to follow (eyebrows at the top of the nose bridge, eyes towards the center of the bridge, ear lines up to eye) and the placement/direction and overlap with other features is a very simple way to indicate dimension. [A sketch of a face that has been adjusted by moving its parts to create 3 different angles. The following text is underneath:] -Different 3/4th views can be created just by adjusting the position of and amount of overlap between the facial features. - The top of the ear usually lines up with the corner of the eye. Think of how glasses are designed [specifically, how the arms run from the eyeline to the ear] [I go on a tangent in these next few paragraphs] *One thing I see many artists do - not just beginners - is learn how to draw A Person. As in, one singular person with one set of bodily proportions and one set of facial features. It's an issue that runs a bit deeper than 'same face syndrome' because sometimes these artists can draw more than one face, they're just not very representative of [the diversity present across] real people. Part of the reason I'm talking more about how to think about approaches to drawing - rather than showing specific how-to's - is because there is no one correct or right way to draw a person. The sooner you allow yourself to explore variety - fat people, old people, people of color, people with [conventionally] 'unattractive' features - the easier it'll be! Artists often draw their own features honestly and without [harmful] caricature, so it's always a good idea to look at art made by the kinds of people you're trying to draw if you're ever unsure about how to handle something. In general, it's far more important to learn how to interpret a variety of forms than to learn how to replicate the Platonic Ideal of the Human Body.

Img 2 - Stuff that helped me

Jumping into drawing humans (faces or otherwise) straight from photo reference can be overwhelming. The trick is to simplify forms into shapes - but even this concept is sort of abstract and it may be hard to know where to begin. Good news - Thousands of other artists have already figured it out. [When starting out] I needed to learn from photo reference AND artists I admired in order to improve. [When looking at stylization you are inspired by] ask yourself: WHY does this simplification work? How can I translate it into a different pose? Instead of copying what you see in a photo reference exactly, try to focus on the general forms first. My two biggest style inspirations for humans while learning to draw them were Steven Universe and Sabrina Cotugno's art. SU gets a lot of hate [in this instance I was specifically referring to a time on tumblr when the art was knocked for 'losing quality'] but its style does a great job of simplifying anatomy in a way that still portrays a diversity of bodies + features. [Extremely simplified drawings of Lapis, Steven, and Amethyst] SU characters are still identifiable- and still read as 'human' - even when reduced to just a few lines!

Img 3 - Things I keep in mind while drawing side profiles

- Eyebrows + eyes close to the 'edge' of the face - Forehead needs enough room for a brain - Eye is > shaped from the sides - Mouth kinda halfway [between the nose and the chin] but closer to the nose - Skin/fat exists under the jaw [and connects to the neck] - neck is about one half the width of the whole head - the back of the skull always sticks out a bit further than you might expect - Sometimes less is more - contours exist on every face, but drawing them in may make your character seem much older than they're supposed to be. However, it's a good idea to use them when you *want* your character to look old! These are very general notes- every face is different and has different proportions [and playing around with them creates unique and interesting character designs]

#2023 #may 2023 #i realized this is pretty nonsensical while transcribing it LOL #feel free to send asks if anything is unclear #but again im not any sort of professional

567 notes · View notes

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 months

Text

Burning Wood

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets a boner.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: One day I'll have to answer for my sins.

Warnings: blow job in a forest, Marc calling reader 'baby', getting a boner in public and being a little into it, swearing, typos - my head is really not in the game atm, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1831

Marc pressed his cold nose into your neck as he hugged you from behind. You shiver, instinctively flinching away from his touch and he giggles.

He presses his nose against you again.

“Marc,” you chastise, but there’s humour in your voice.

“What?” He grins, obviously knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“How is your nose so freezing?”

“How is your neck so warm?”

You chuckle and sigh, putting your hands over his arms. You both stare at the bonfire for a moment longer.

“I don’t get how you can be cold standing next to this thing,” you motion your hands to the flames.

Marc jogs on the spot a little, just to amuse you. “It’s cold, let’s stand closer.”

You laugh. “We’ll be in the fire.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles into your neck again and kisses your skin lightly. “Nice and toasty.”

So far, Marc had enjoyed visiting your family, even if they did live in the middle of nowhere. He thought he was going to go a little stir crazy at first, playfully making shinning jibes, but then he’d kind of… got used to it. The stillness. The forest walks. The tiny village with the population of 62.

A few kids ran around with sparklers under the watchful gaze of their parents, several people held out marshmallows need the flames. There was warm mead and hot chocolate if anyone wanted it.

Marc sighed, resting his chin on your shoulder for a second before he muttered, “my hands are cold too.”

“Marc,” you laugh, “you’re wearing gloves.”

“I know.”

“Well, you’re not putting them on me.”

“But you’re so warm.” He teases, tensing his arms as if he’s going to move and try to sneak under your shirt.

“Fuck off.” You grin and grab hold of his hands to stop them going anywhere.

“That’s not nice,” he pouts playfully. “I’m going to freeze to death and you're not going to help me?”

“You are not, besides, I thought Chicago got pretty cold? Shouldn’t you be used to this?” You tease.

He grumbles something into your shoulder.

“What?”

“I said, Chicago isn’t damp cold. Here’s damp cold. Gets into everything.”

You snort. “Aww, poor baby.”

“Yeah,” he nods and kisses your cheek. “Poor me, where’s the sympathy for me?”

You can hear the grin in his voice, he always loved playing up because it made you laugh. Though he seemed a little extra needy right now. Not normally the one for physical affection in public. Maybe the darkness of the night helped.

The bonfire snaps a little, still going strong and you pat Marc’s hair with your gloved hand as you lean back against him.

He sighs, pressing his face into your shoulder as you brush against the semi-hard outline of cock.

You pause. Ah. So that was why he was being so handsy.

“Ohhhhh,” you whisper, dragging out the word to be a menace and lean back again a little to press against his bulge. “I see, hugging me so that you can use me as a shield for prying eyes are you?”

“No.” He says into your shoulder, his voice obscured by your coat.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well I’ll just-” You go to move but his arms tighten around you.

“Stay here.”

You giggle.

He lifts his head up and kisses your cheek again. “I did not hug you to use you as a shield,” he tries to sound stern but the smile in his voice wins out. “I came to hug you and…”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“And then this happened.”

“From a hug?” You say disbelievingly.

“Hmm,” he grumbles.”You smell nice.”

You laugh, “I smell like burning wood.”

“Yeah, well, that and your natural smell,” he nuzzles into your neck again and breathes deeply. “Smells really good. Smells like… comfort, or something.”

Despite the sweet tone to his words, you can’t resist a tease. “And that made you horny?”

He tuts and rolls his eyes, giving you a little squeeze. “Yes, okay, it made me really horny. Happy?”

You pause and then nod, “yes.” You say with a touch too much enthusiasm and Marc laughs.

“Okay, well good to have your approval.”

You smile and lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest. There’s a pause before you push back a little more, rubbing against his erection again.

He stifles a moan into your coat. “Stop it.” He hisses, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it.

“Stop what?” You say innocently.

“You know what.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Marc.” You punctuate the end of the sentence by gently leaning back and rolling your hips against him.

He groans softly and presses into you. You hear the click in his throat as he swallows. “Do you want me to come in my jeans? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.” He hisses.

“What?” You say, all mock surprise. “So quickly.”

He lets out a little grunt of annoyance and presses his face back into your coat.

The realisation that maybe Marc Spector was a little into the risk of being caught started to piece together in your mind.

You pause for a second before deciding. “Okay.” You pull out of his embrace and turn to face him.

“Okay?” He startles, his eyebrows pinched together in disappointment, thinking the game is over.

“Hmm,” you smile sweetly and take his hand before you start walking and urging him to follow. It takes him a second to get the hint.

No one else seems to notice, or mind, as you both head away from the celebrations. Following the little well trodden path that leads back to the village.

Marc follows close, a step behind until you are far enough away from the bonfire to be seen by anyone there, but close enough that the light from it just about illuminates your path.

You guide him off the trail into the thick outcrop of trees.

“Baby, what are we-”

You silence him with a harsh kiss, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips in surprise. He moans instantly, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close even as you push him up against a thick oak tree.

He kisses back needily, his breathing already ragged and cheeks warm. His nose, however, is still cold.

You kiss his cheek lightly before you trail your lips down his jaw and nip lightly at his pulse point.

He groans, bucking against you and squirming a little, biting his lip to keep himself vaguely quiet.

“Didn’t realise you had a thing for the outside.” You tease and Marc huffs.

“I don’t.”

“Sure, sure,” you suck on his neck and he gasps, his body bending toward you, trying to wrap itself around you. You slowly run your hands down to his cock, the poor thing trapped in the tight confines of his jeans.

He groans again, the sound grumbling through his chest and into you. “Baby,” he bites his lip, and even though you can’t make out his exact expression in the poor light, you can picture it perfectly in your mind. How his brow furrowed needily, how wide his pupils were.

You unbuckle his belt, the sound of the leather opening makes his eyes roll back and he has to bite his tongue to stop the loud moan that threatens to escape.

He stays still as he can as you undo his jeans, his hands on your arms, needing to touch you and keep you close despite wanting to give you room to manoeuvre.

And when you sink to your knees he shudders, throwing his head back against the tree bark and sighing softly.

You take your gloves off and shove them into your coat pocket.

“Baby, I-” He swallows down his words, screwing his eyes tight as your warm hands pull him free and you suck on his head.

Precum spreads across your tongue, salty and rich as you moan softly, the reverberations running down the length of him and making his muscles twitch.

You pull back, just enough to pump the length of his a few times while your other hand massages his balls, one finger lightly pressing on his perineum.

He shudders, sighing out into the darkness as you lap at his weeping slit with the flat of your tongue, running it along and swirling around his tip before swallowing him down.

He cries out, grabbing hold of your shoulders as you take him as deeply as you can. He fights the urge to buck up and thrust himself completely in your throat, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move up and down, drawing his pleasure out like poison from a bite. He tries to fight against it, tries to prolong the sensation as long as he can, to relax into it. But he’s too worked up, too desperate. And his orgasm rapidly approaches.

The earth and dead leaves are soft under your knees, the dampness of the dirt soaking a little into your trousers, but you don’t mind. Focusing solely on Marc’s little whimpers and pleads, sounds you’re sure he doesn’t even realise he’s making.

How his legs shake, how his cock twitches in your throat, how his fingers dig into you.

He rolls his hips slightly, panting and you know he’s close, practically there. Warmth builds in your chest, pride at how trusting he is with you, how he knows you’ll take care of him.

You sink lower, relaxing your throat as much as you can and slipping him a centimetre further inside.

Marc gasps, the sound loud but not enough to raise suspicion, he bucks once, swearing and trying to mutter a warning but you press closer to him and swallow as he spirts into your throat.

He shakes as stars explode behind his eyes, as pleasure washes over him and momentarily rids him of his strength. He moans your name softly, gasping and keeping a firm hold on your shoulder to keep himself upright.

You keep moving, letting him ride his orgasm out before you lick him clean and tuck him back into his jeans.

You laugh a little as you try to get the zip up.

“What?” He smiles, his voice floaty and wonderfully blissed out.

“I can’t get your jeans closed with your dick still hard.” You giggle.

“Oh,” he chuckles and helps you to your feet. “Don’t worry about it.” He kisses your cheek, your neck, nipping lightly at your skin before he kisses your lips and holding you close.

“Don’t worry about it?”

“Yeah, well, we’re going back to the house anyway.”

“Oh, are we?” You smile.

He nods.

“I thought we were going back to the bonfire?” You tease.

He growls playfully, kissing the spot just under your ear. “Oh no, we’re going back and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress and make you scream while the village is empty and everyone else is here.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @pimosworld @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho @lunar-ghoulie @dumdaradumdaradum @plastichearts @silver-night-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#moon knight events #moon knight bingo 2024 #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight mcu #marc spector x reader #x reader #marc spector x you #x you #marc spector x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #marc spector x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

212 notes · View notes