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doumadono · 2 months

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Douma! I have a small request for you if that's ok with you <3

If you haven't explored it, maybe you could try Izuku + Thigh fucking for sinful Sunday?

It's OK if you don't wanna, no pressure bb

Take good care!

Warnings: aged-up Izuku

SINFUL SUNDAY

A/N: I hope you'll enjoy it - it was a bit challenging for me as I've never delved into thigh fucking before

It was Izuku's debut at a blind date. Anticipating various scenarios, he half-expected his date to be a guy or even someone older. However, upon seeing you in a white cocktail dress and matching white sneakers, a sigh of relief escaped him. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be as bad as he feared.

The chat flowed effortlessly over sushi and sake, revealing your admiration for him. He couldn't help but feel a touch of pride, wondering if he had become a bit too selfish after spending so much time with Kacchan.

You both shared laughter, polishing off at least two and a half bottles of sake and even some wine.

And when you suggested he come over, he felt a stir down there – the excitement was already building, and the green-haired man didn't mind at all.

Your bedroom mirrored the simplicity of the apartment, adorned with cream-painted walls. Heroic posters of Izuku, framed and protected by glass, adorned the space.

Izuku could feel his manhood grow, and his jeans became super uncomfortable.

As your eyes met, Izuku swiftly seated himself on the bed, legs apart, accommodating the noticeable bulge that was visible down his right leg.

He could tell that you spied it as he noticed your eyes widening, a startled expression crossing your face.

Swiftly, you shed your jacket, letting it fall to the ground. Kneeling down, your gaze fixed on the apparent bulge, your hands delicately tracing the thickness and length of it.

Izuku, feeling a surge of adrenaline, unfastened his belt and unzipped his jeans, the tension of the denim loosening over his length.

You assisted in lowering his jeans, your lip bitten in anticipation as you sensually pulled down them down along with his underwear with deliberate slowness.

Slowly, the unveiling unfolded before you, your expression a blend of surprise and admiration as you saw the last few inches spring out in all its glory. With a hushed gasp, your hands encircled the shaft, slowly pulling his foreskin up and down the sensitive head. A subtle smile played on your lips as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in to press his tip against your cleavage as you met his gaze.

"You're huge, Izuku... I love it." With a teasing grin, you continued to caress the exposed head against your soft breasts, compressed by your bra cups. His appreciative moans reassured you that you were on the right track - looking up at him for acceptance, you felt the warm liquid seep out of his tip and onto your tits. Reluctantly letting go, you shifted your focus, pulling up your tight white dress over your head, revealing a white bra and panties to your crush.

Izuku moistened his lips with his tongue before swiftly pulling his t-shirt over his head and casting it aside.

He moved fast, lifting your legs and placing them on his shoulders.

Your gaze met his as your hands clutched the sheets.

With a swift motion, Deku pressed your thighs together, and a soft moan escaped your lips once you felt him thrust his rock-hard cock between them, rubbing slightly against your moist clit. "Izuku..." you whispered, your cheeks flushed.

Izuku began to fuck your thighs, pushing your body forward and backward with each powerful thrust he delivered.

Gasps escaped your lips as you reveled in the sensation.

He liked it even more, witnessing you so submissive, just for him.

You panted when you saw the pink tip of his cock which leaked with pre-cum disappear and reappear between your thighs. The rhythm continued, reaching a crescendo until you could no longer contain your response, breathless and consumed by desire. "O-Oh! Holy shit, Izu, I'm cumming!" And thus, you cum, your hot, drenched pussy clenching around nothing, making it super uncomfortable for you. "Izu... I need you in... Just please, use a condom."

Izuku grinned, panting too, escalating his pace until he reached the climax, a hearty grunt escaping his lips as his warm seed sprayed your abdomen after you pressed your thighs tighter together, making his cock rub more against your soft skin. "Fuck, Y/N!" Izuku paused, glancing at you, and gently let go of your legs. They fell beside him as he reached for his jeans, retrieving his wallet. Searching inside, he found the condom he always kept on hand. Deku started to pull it over his cock that got hard again very quickly whilst you looked at your bare legs, seeing how his cum stained your inner thighs and abdomen.

Scooping a bit onto your index finger, you brought it to your mouth, humming in delight. "Delicious," you declared, savoring the flavor.

The sight made Izuku blush, looking irresistibly cute.

You blushed, avoiding his gaze as he placed his large, condom-covered cock at your entrance. "Please, go slow, Izu. I'm uncertain if I can take something this huge." Your breath caught in a delicate dance of gasps and moans as you felt his cock penetrate you. You threw your head back as you cried Izuku's name while he began to slowly thrust into your tight pussy. You looked down to see him fucking you at a quickened pace - a subtle bulge in your abdomen was visible every time Izuku pushed in.

Izuku intertwined his fingers with yours, and you held onto them tightly while encircling your legs around his waist.

A subtle shift in the angle intensified his desire. Breathless, he whispered, "God, you're so tight for me." Izuku's heavy balls were slapping against your slit, covered in slickness that trickled out of you whenever he pushed back.

You were the first one to reach your second climax that night. The tremors coursing through your body, an involuntary response to the intensity of the intercourse, were unmistakable. Your inner, spongy walls, gripped with fervor, constricted around his throbbing dick in a palpable embrace. Unable to contain the overwhelming sensations, you surrendered, letting out a primal cry that reverberated through the room, punctuating the air with his name. "As your head found solace against the softness of the pillow, the echo of that impassioned utterance lingered, a testament to the profound connection forged in the throes of passion. "Izuku! Fuck, yes!"

His groans were a symphony to your ears, and you found yourself unwilling to have him cease his movements until you sensed his cock twitching. Izuku was moaning as he felt his balls get milked inside you, spilling his seed withing the rubber, grunting deeply as he did. "Fuck, babe."

After withdrawing, he reclined next to you, gently kissing your naked shoulder. "Good Lord, you've got a way of making me lose control, darling. I can't recall ever experiencing anything quite like that."

You grinned at him, your cheeks still rosy, saying, "We might have gone a bit too far... Blame it on the alcohol, I guess."

Izuku frowned at your words. "Regretting?"

You shook your head, gently holding his chin. "No, not at all! I just don't want you to think I'm that easy, getting laid on the first date..."

Izuku grinned gently, giving a quick peck on the bridge of your nose. "Never regret it, babe. It all felt just right. By the way, could I get your phone number?"

You exchanged a sincere chuckle, forgetting about formalities after the heated taxi ride to your flat. "Sure, I'll do that. Hope you'll delete your account on that website."

Izuku smiled, "I will. You know, Dynamight set it up on my behalf, I still dunno why, but I won't need it anymore now that I found you."

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #izuku midoryia #izuku midoriya smut #midoriya x you #deku smut #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #anime smut #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #bnha izuku #izuku headcanons #divider by cafekitsune #aged up characters

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ozarkthedog · 1 year

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one muse has been napping in a hammock and the other wakes them by beginning to finger them.

+ Joel please!

this wrecked me. thanks for that. 💙

warnings: fingering. dubcon -> somnophilia. i pictured pre outbreak!Joel while i wrote this but any version will suffice!

Joel is a bad man.

He’s definitely going to hell as he lightly drags a finger up your naked thigh while you sleep in his arms. Your soft curves and plush lips tumble with breathy moans that tempt him to break every cardinal rule.

Maybe hell won’t be so bad.

He smirks to himself as he flips your summer dress over your hips. Blood fills his cock when he spies the snug cotton panties that cup your mound. The thin material is wedged between your folds creating a sinful outline of your cunt leaving nothing to his imagination.

Joel glances at your face as he runs an experimental finger down the crease of your panties. Your eyes dance under your lids unaware of his unholy actions which makes him bolder.

A thick finger lightly presses down on your clit and he rubs soft circles over the material with precision. He’s done this a thousand times but never while you’re asleep. The thought makes his cock strain against his jeans.

He feels dampness beneath his fingertips as your arousal stains the thin cotton and a breathy moan slips from your tongue. He stops breathing when your hips shift and press unconsciously into his hand.

All matter of right and wrong ceases as he slides his hand under your panties and bites back a groan when he finds you soaked. He drags a languid thumb over your wet clit, swirling the tiny bud a few times which earns him a sleepy moan from your parted lips.

He watches like a hawk as your features twist from the unknown pleasure while you dream. Curious fingers slide down further and carefully prods your slick seam before pressing inside.

The air in his lungs burns. He feels like he can’t breathe with the way your core absent-mindedly swirls around his slowly thrusting fingers and drips shiny arousal from your folds. He’s like a man possessed as your brow pinches and your body quivers from the oblivious pleasure.

Joel curls his fingers on every thrust, hooking against the spot he knows that’ll make you see stars. He’s like a man possessed needing to make fall apart under his hands while you’re helpless and catatonic.

He circles a heavy thumb over your clit desperate to have you writhe beneath him. Your core pulses around his fingers and the hand that once laid limp on his chest now digs into his shirt when you wake with a frantic, wary gasp.

Feral eyes meet your glassy ones as your lids flutter open. “Go on,” he commands with a growl. “Come for me.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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wishuroses · 1 year

Text

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 𓇼 experiment, spider soccoro.

✶ pairings: spider x sully!reader

✶ warnings: fluff, kissing, touchy spider, sorry guys it gets heated, love confessions, reader is just a big cat (purring and scenting ensues), size differences, uppercase intended!

✶ word count: 1k

✶ na’vi glossary: yovo – a purple fruit, palulukan – the rainforest’s most fearsome predator.

✶ a/n: being deathly exhausted while simultaneously dying of hunger while writing is not a good mix lawd i’m running LAPS. beware that idk how to write people kissing but i tried my best! happy reading >:-)

It was a quiet and cold night in the lab, hours past eclipse. Norm had suggested that Spider head to bed and you to go back home a long while ago, but you both decided against it–you knew your father would be at least a little understanding (but at the same time, you knew you were going to end up getting a scolding one way or another), your mother, on the other hand, not so much.

(Neytiri loathed Spider so much it made her blood boil and she made sure you both knew that, but the exact reason as to why–you weren’t sure. Nor will you be willing to understand. But one thing you did know was that you loved him, way too much. You weren’t sure if it was platonic or romantic, but either way you weren’t about to fight it. Not a chance.)

The only things you both could hear were the soft pitter-patters of rain that tapped against the glass and the buzzing hum of the hazy overhead lights, long forgotten video logs played on the illuminated screen before you.

It was nice, being alone with your closest friend like this. A small smile graced your lips at the thought, holding the small breathing device up to your mouth, inhaling the precious air, your eyes fluttering shut.

Your calm stupor, however, was cut short when you heard Spider’s nervous voice ring out towards you, soft but held a certain tone that demanded your attention.

“Could I try something?”

When you looked over, his eyes were locked and set onto the floor, finding it more interesting than anything else in the chilly room. Your wide honeyed gaze burned holes into the side of his head, eyebrows furrowing with nothing but concern for your friend. “What is it?”

Spider bit his lip in thought before responding, looking you dead in the eye. “Get on the table.”

Silence.

“..This table will collapse underneath itself as soon as I sit down, Spi.” You responded with raised eyebrows, questioning, staring at him incredulously.

He has the gall to scoff, shrugging. “No it won’t, trust me. I’ve jumped over these things way too many times, and they haven’t budged, not once.”

You paused. Another beat of silence passed.

Your nose crinkled with doubt at the delicate skyperson table not breaking under your lithe, but heavy body–you wouldn’t believe that for a second– but something you could definitely believe is him playing jungle on top of them like it was nothing– honestly such a Spider thing to do.

Despite your inner dialogue, you couldn’t possibly resist this silly monkey boy anyways, even if it meant saving your life. “Fine.” You grumbled.

You placed yourself on the sleek expanse of the metal table, hissing softly as nothing but pure coldness stung the back of your thighs like pinpricks. The table was quite large, admittedly so, but your feet still managed to prod the floor.

A sharp, playful grin stretched across his face once you complied, immediately finding his place between your legs, warm palms smoothing atop your bare thighs. You shivered, goosebumps dotting across your navy blue skin–whether it was from the stale, chilly air of the lab or because of Spider’s touch, you had no idea.

“Spider,” you mused, making him look up at you through thick lashes. You found it oddly adorable how he was still so, so small, even when you’re sitting on a table, nearly hunched over to at least meet some of his height. He was tall for a human, you knew this, but gosh. You thought to make fun of him for it, like you usually do, but you couldn’t find it in you–for whatever reason. “What’s this all about?”

“I want to try to.. conduct an experiment.” If you weren’t so caught up in your confusion, you would’ve noticed the way he leaned into you, taking in your ray of presence with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Bro.. conduct an experiment?” You parroted with a cunning smile on your face, mirth shining in pools of gold. “Haha, you sound like Norm!”

Spider gasped, scandalized. “Shut up. I do not.” He flushed a pretty pink and shoved you gently, making you cackle aloud. “Norm said that if I ever get bored, I should try to experiment–test things out, I guess.” You hummed and placed a hand on his shoulder, letting him know that you were listening. “Thought that’d be boring to do by myself, and I always have fun with you, so that’s why I need you here.”

You nod once, managing to keep a straight face at the hidden confession, but the upwards flick of your ears and the way your tail thudded against the table gave it away. He always has fun with you? Now that was news to you.

All of a sudden, the air felt thinner and your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest, you quickly took a flustered breath from the device that dangled from your side. The lab was only chilly a few moments, why was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Alright..” You licked your lips, and this time, you definitely didn’t miss the way his eyes caught the movement, intrigued. “So, what’s your hypothesis?”

“My hypothesis is that I can make you blush.” He states matter-of-factly, an even sharper grin taking over his features, making your heart palpate violently against your chest. “With my lips.”

You sputtered; now it was your turn to be scandalized, eyes popped open so wide that Spider was so sure they were about to jump out of your sockets.

“With your– with..” You heard the blood rush to your face, your ears flicking downwards with embarrassment. “Spider.. bro.. that’s so..”

“What? C’mon, let me kiss you.” He pouted, daring to lean even closer to you, making your thighs open wider to accommodate him. “I wanna kiss you.” You let out a breath at his straightforwardness, you knew he was not leaving you alone until he got that kiss.

Spider placed his hands around on your thin waist, squeezing softly, making your breath hitch. Fuck it, you thought, before leaning forward to crash your plump lips against his smaller ones, trying your best to work around the difference. He groaned internally, you tasted like sweet yovo fruit. Spider immediately reciprocated with an equal amount of vigor, thumbing the edge of your ribcage.

Noises of wet, desperate lips smacking together and strained breaths filled the air, and you both could only pray that Max or Norm wouldn’t walk in on both of you nearly eating each other’s faces off like two hungry palulukan in heat.

After a few moments, you pulled back–much to Spider’s dismay– making him push forward to chase your lips. Your chest was heaving, face flushed a ripe purple-ish color, while Spider was completely pink from head to toe–like the strawberries your father once told you about years ago. The pit of your tummy fluttered tremendously, like branch tips releasing new buds in gentle, fluctuating bursts.

The loud thumping of a tail and a purr thundered throughout the lab, effectively startling Spider. You push your head between the juncture of his neck and jaw, rubbing your cheek against the skin. He’d absolutely have to ask you about this later.

Your back arches like a strung bow, hips grinding forward against his with newfound vigor, the sudden pressure and friction against loincloths makes Spider groan heartily, thumbs rubbing encouraging circles into the dip of your hips. Eywa, you are huge. He’s overwhelmed, and so are you, yet makes no move to stop you. Please keep going, he wants to say, please.

Then, for you, it finally clicks.

You and Spider kissed. You and Spider… kissed. And the cherry on top is that you purred.

With whatever amount of shame you had leftover, you throw yourself back and slap your three-fingered hands over your flushed face. “Sorry. Oh, by Eywa, I’m so sorry.” He laughs breathlessly and gently removes your hands from your face, intertwining his hands with your bigger ones, silently reassuring you. You let him.

“This wasn’t just an.. experiment, right..?” You mumbled, bright eyes blown out wide and hopeful, Spider felt his resolve melt at your vulnerable state.

“Norm was right about that experiment thing, but I just wanted an excuse to kiss you. I plan to do it even more after today.”

“But..” you paused, “I thought you liked Kiri?”

Spider looked at you as if you’d just sprouted fifteen heads right before his eyes, but his gaze still held something soft. Something soft that was reserved for you only. “If I liked Kiri then I would’ve kissed her, not you, stupid!” At his words, your bottom lip juts outward to form a pout.

“So, you like me? Like, really like me?” You whispered, almost disbelieving.

“Yes, dummy, I really like you.”

“I really like you too!”

You surged forward, sending the both of you tumbling onto the chilled floor, tangled up in a mess of giggles and light pecks across each other’s blushing faces.

If it meant basking in your warmth every moment and every hour of the day, Spider would definitely consider conducting experiments with you more often.

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97keanu · 4 months

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john wick and reader’s first christmas together 🤩

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ I just love this idea! Thank you so much for sending it in ❄️.*ㅤ

Premise: John wants to give his wife the best Christmas he can. He decides to surprise you by taking you to a remote cabin he owns(typically used as a safehouse from his work if need be). Features John who tries to finally let his guard down and relax, hot cocoa kisses, and sexy times by the roaring fire ♡.゜

Tags/CW: FLUFFY, domestic bliss!John, loving husband!John, some much needed down time for the Wicks, blizzards, cabin in the woods, eventual smut, soft but still dominant!John, pretty tame but sensual smut, you learn things about your husband that you never knew, you see a side of john you never thought you would, daddy kink, spanking, commanding John, p in v, doggy, edging.

The roads twisted between thick fur and pine trees of the deepest and most vibrant hues of green your eyes have ever seen. You're used to your concrete jungle, the city life of New York being all you've ever really known. You had never taken a camping trip before John, let alone a getaway in some private cabin up in the mountains. You didn't know there were even mountains near where you two usually lived, but with the secret blindfolded plane ride, you're not sure you're even in the same state anymore.

John's large hand rests on your thigh, giving little squeezes every so often and warming the skin there. His other hand keeps a hold of the wheel, driving the slick black-as-night car. He had trade in for the SUV styled vehicle instead his usual Mustang so that you two could make it through the snowy terrain. The visibility is getting less and less as the darkness of night begins to settle in and the snowflakes blasting against the cars windshield get bigger and thicker by the minute. You're grateful for how warm the heaters are keeping you, your short skirt and leg warmers no match for this weather, but you had wanted to wear something cute for your getaway trip and John had only said it was a "little chilly". You curl up in the giant black leather seats of the car, sleep wanting to take you after so much traveling. You spy John peeking over at you, and hear him speak for the first time in a few miles.

"It won't be long now," He let's your thigh have another reassuring squeeze. "We'll be away and in the warmth of the cabin soon. I had it prepped for our arrival, so it should be nice and toasty when we get there."

You hum a small response, eyes wanting to shut so badly. Your head leans against the seatbelt, letting the thick strap cradle it.

The trees grow thicker and seem to be devouring the car as the road turns into a tiny trail. You wonder for a moment how or who John would send to keep the cabin prepped. You notice how the trail has been plowed already, and slowly but surely a warmth of yellow glows as John turns the last corner towards the cabin. You see the large structure, it's windows vibrantly orange against the cold whites and blues of the winter forest around it. The chimney already billows with smoke, lazily getting pulled away by the wind. It looks expensive and inviting.

John gets out of the car first, the wind blowing in flakes of snow already, melting on the warm leather seats almost immediately. John spies the chill that shakes through you from the sudden cold, and takes off his warm winter jacket. He walks over to your side of the car, opening it, that burst of frost blasting you once more. He helps you out, wrapping you tightly in his jacket, his warmth radiating into you through it.

John carefully takes you inside, careful of any ice that may be lingering. He opens the wooden door of the cabin, and you can already feel the warmth on your cheeks once more as you step inside.

"Not so bad, huh?" John says with a small smile, rubbing up and down your arms to try to keep you warm.

"Yeah, but I would have dressed warmer if I'd know there was a blizzard waiting for us!" You say with false concern, not really that upset when you're in such a luxury cabin as this, and all the thought that John put into it apparent to you.

"The storm wasn't supposed to set in so quickly, that was my mistake of underestimating it..." His voice remains brighter, but you can tell he wishes he had calculated it better. That sort of thing means a lot to him.

You pull your loving husband in, taking his bearded face in your hands and planting a long, soft kiss on his lips. You pull back and look into those deep brown eyes of his. For the first time in a long time, he looks content, excited, happy. There's a significant lack of the usual worry there, but even so, his dark brows always show a hint of it.

"Listen, why don't you take a moment to warm up by the fire in the livingroom, and I'll start getting our things inside..." He is obviously up to something else, you can always tell, but you have an idea of it either way.

You shrug off the jacket he gave you, his masculine scent of pine and mint cologne going with it, and give him a kiss on the cheek as you do.

"Keep warm out there..." You whisper to him, a hand pushing one side of his long dark hair back behind his ear.

"Always..." He returns the kiss and slips out the door, snow billowing in onto the hard wood as he does, and the wind being extinguished as he closes the door once more.

For a moment, you glance out the window, fogged up by the heat of the inside fighting the cold of the wilderness. You check the car, where your husband should be, and see nothing, thinking he's disappeared into that dark winter night. Then, you catch a glimpse of him moving past a different window, farther from the car than he should be if he were to be unpacking.

Checking the perimeter. You've known him to do this when you two travel. No other man you've dated has done such a thing, but no other man was John Wick. You still were unsure about his work since he kept you at such a distance, but you could take a few guesses at this point. You don't like him being out in the cold like this, but if it makes him feel better, maybe takes his mind off everything so that you two may enjoy your Christmas vacation together, then you'll let him do so without bringing it up.

That was your duty as a loving wife. A loving wife who didn't ask questions. Who knew but said nothing of it. Who doted without wanting to know more. And for now? That was enough for you.

You know it will be a second before he gets back, so you decide to take in the cabin while he's away. You look at the grand living room area you're standing in, two massive staircases encircling the largest Christmas tree you've ever seen, twinkling with a million tiny lights. The dark wood of the enterior is rich and inviting. To your right, a fireplace, couches and seating around it, the mantel hung with green garland and deep red bows. In front of the fire rests a white bear hide, you wonder if it's real or not, but you don't think you've ever seen John hunting. Animals, that is.

Beside that are the largest windows you've ever seen, over looking the forest and you think a lake if you can spy that correctly out in the mess of the blizzard. It makes your heart tense to think of John out there in that, but he's a grown man, he can make his own decisions, you tell yourself, as the good, loving wife you are.

You walk there, looking out, seeing all the freezing cold that you're happy to be away from dancing out there beyond the thick trees. You turn towards the fire, walking over, letting the bare of your legs and arms get warm. Your thin little scarf did just about as much as you tiny skirt and white fluffy leg warmers did to warm you, but a lively fire should do the trick. You close your eyes, hands out and feeling the warm down to your bones, listening to the wood crackling and dying inside the flame.

After a while, you end up curling yourself the coziest and plushest couch you've ever been in. It's deep brown in color, and has the feeling of soft leather, the kind that still has a bit of fur on it. The crocheted cream blanket hung over it quickly becomes yours, and you watch the fire as your eyes slowly drift closed, and the flames twirl behind your eyelids.

❄️.*ㅤ

You're not sure when you fell asleep, or for how long, but when you feel cold lips kiss upon your cheek, your eyes flutter open to meet John's. The fire behind him has significantly died down.

"Sorry to wake you sweetheart," his voice is hushed and soft. "I finished unpacking for us. I started our late dinner as well, so that will be done soon if you're hungry."

You hadn't really thought about it, but as John mentions it, and you smell that delicious scent of a home cooked meal, your stomach growls despite yourself. John smiles at the response and stands up, holding a hand out to you. You take it, enjoying the feel of his rough hands engulfing your tiny soft ones for a moment.

The two of you go towards the left of the cabin, through two double doors grand with subtle embellishments, and the wonderful smell of the kitchen grows larger as you walk through. You see the brightly lit kitchen before you, the appliances a mix of modern and old styled, the color of them all deep greens and brandished golds. A small, simple chandelier hangs down over the middle of a black marble island in the center of the room. There are nice, large, comfy stools made of wood and black leather waiting for you there, the high backs of the stools perfectly curved to lean against. You take seat, and John opens the oven to check what's cooking in there.

"I always forget how good of a cook you are." You say with a soft smile.

"I don't do it often, but I hope you enjoy it when I do." He responds with a small chuckle, pulling a chefs apron in black off a golden hook on the wall, and wrapping it around himself so he may continue cooking.

He gets out a medium golden saucepan, opening the old styled fridge and getting out cream and milk, mixing them into the pot. You watch with fascinated eyes as he does so, then spotting him open the pantry door and seeing it fully stocked with snacks and goodies.

"You really had this place set up, huh?" You comment as he takes out a hefty bar of high quality dark chocolate from the pantry.

"Only the best for my wonderful wife..." He says with that small smile of his, walking over near you and setting up a cutting board.

"Do you wanna learn how to make homemade hot chocolate?" He continues, bringing a sharp chefs knife with him.

You're actually really interested, you've never had John 'teach' you anything so far, so you wonder what kind of mentor he would be.

"Yes, I'd like that."

John nods, and begins to show you and tell you what he's doing. First, he takes the chocolate bar, then sets it on the cutting board. He then explains how sharp these types of knives are and how you have to be careful, showing you how to cut with your knuckles out instead of your fingers.

"Always cut away from yourself..." He explains as he does so himself, chopping the chocolate into finely shredded pieces. "It's kind of hard because you don't want the chocolate to melt too much from your hands, so you have to work fast."

You watch a few more times, a question or two being answered with patience and honestly, and finally you feel your ready. John comes behind you, his hands guiding yours to the right places, then traveling up to your shoulders. You shiver from his touch.

He watches carefully as you cut, making sure to tell you if you're getting too close to your knuckles. You work slower than he does, the chocolate beginning to melt and stick to your fingers, but he doesn't stop you. He wants you to be able to make mistakes and figure it out on your own.

He pulls his hands down to yours a few times when you ask for help, his hands helping yours to get the motion. You feel a blush settling in your cheeks as you think about how close he is, his scent easily inhaled from this distance. You know you're already married to the man, but you can't help but retain that crush you've had on him since the very beginning. He had such a way with being suavely romantic like that, as if he wasn't even trying to do so.

Finally, all the chocolate is cut, your chunks not nearly as fine as John's, but he reassures you it will all melt the same in the end. You both move to the pot of milk that's on the stove, John igniting the gas and the blue flame rising to meet the bottom of the pot. John let's you carefully brush the chocolate off the cutting board into the pot.

He then opens a nearby cupboard, bringing out spices and such.

"I like to put vanilla, cinnamon, and a bit more sugar into mine..." He admits almost sheepishly.

You have to agree, it's interesting to see John, his buff arms on display from his dark undershirt, scars here and there, in a chefs apron talking about his favorite way to prepare hot cocoa. It's not that he can't do such a thing, John could do anything, you know that. It's that he's usually never allowed to be so tender, to have such opinions, to show off this side of himself, even to you, his wife. You're already starting to cherish these moments of bliss with him.

He let's you add the other ingredients yourself with the help of his verbal instructions, and you're happy he does so. You may be his wife, but he knew when he married you that you didn't sign up to be the cook in the family. And you're glad that he never pushed that, but right now, you're enjoying creating something with him, even if it is a recipe.

"So, where up here for 5 whole nights, what do you have planned for me, John?" You say over your shoulder as you stir the heating liquid on the stove.

John is taking what's in the oven out as he responds, the delicious smell of roasted chicken and vegetables filling your nose.

"Oh, a little of this, a bit of that," he plays coy then continues. "Would you prefer if I don't keep it a surprise?"

You think about his question, asked in ernest, and consider it.

"No, but, I guess I'm just excited since what you've already given me has been so wonderful..." You smile and glance at him, watching as he prepares two plates for the evening.

Even this, he does with precision.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were a real chef." You comment on his culinary skills.

"Ah," he says with a sigh as he wipes clean a spot of loose sauce on the sparkling white plate. "Perhaps, in another life..."

You know John doesn't speak of his work often, but every so often you get a glimpse into his true thoughts and feelings about it. You go back to finishing the hot chocolate without a word.

❄️.*ㅤ

Soon, the two of you have dined and enjoyed your delicious meal, lazing on the livingroom couch together with a mug half filled with cocoa each, the whipped cream all gone.

You lean into John's form, enjoying the feeling of his body against yours, the way the curves fit just perfectly. You listen to Christmas vinyl, all instrumental pieces, softly playing on a record player in the room. You watch outside as the snow piles up and drifts against the room filling windows, letting it block the two of you in here alone with ease.

"Aren't you worried we'll get snowed in?" You whisper to your husband, voice languid and relaxed.

"Not one bit," John chuckles softly in your ear, playing with a strand of your hair between your fingers. "We have more than enough food and resources to last well over a month. Besides, I'm used to the cold."

He kisses your cheek with the last word, and you can't help but smile back.

You bite your lip, thinking about what you want to say back, what you dream of asking, but you know you're not supposed to ask questions into his past. That's not what you're meant to do as his loving wife.

A few moments pass, and you just can't help yourself.

"Where did you grow up, John?" The words fall from your mouth, and you feel the muscles in John's chest tighten, almost reflexively.

He doesn't say anything for a long time, then a breath he seems to have been holding slips out low and slow.

"I grew up as an orphan." He says it slowly, and your eyes widen when you hear, you're grateful your back is against John so he can't see your surprise.

You say nothing, digesting the words, having learned so much from so little. You can imagine that it wasn't at all easy growing up as an orphan, but a part of you wonders, no hopes, that the story has a better end.

"I was born in Belarus," he continues. "And stayed there until I eventually made my way to New York."

Shadows, once again, from your husband. There is so much he's omitting, you know that, and there's so much you wish to ask him for details. You swallow those questions hard, instead remaining silent, in case he wishes to tell more, but not pressing anything.

"The winter's there were pretty harsh, so I find it somewhat comforting to be back in it." he finally says after a long pause. "Reminds me of how far I've come from that."

You feel John's hands move for the first time since this conversation, suddenly no longer frozen against you. It's as if the warmth has begun to flood his body against, forgetting that freezing past of his. He pulls you in tighter, wrapping his arms around you and feeling you there with him. You hear his sigh, and you know that's all he will say about it tonight. He buries his face in your hair, ready to forget for now. You let him.

❄️.*ㅤ

The days at the cabin pass like the last of the snow fall on the peaks of the trees, quiet, hushed, a whisper to a lover with lustful intent. You spend time with John that feels like a century, and as the night of Christmas Eve arrives, you find yourself feeling closer and closer to him without having to say much.

With his away at work all the time, you're cherishing these moments as they come, happy to stay inside with him and the cozy warmth of the fire that John keeps from going hungry. Tonight, you lead him into the living room, where the fire crackles and welcomes you once more. He let's you dance as you do so, helping twirl you as the jazzy songs of the records he puts on dazzle in response.

You pull him to the couch, letting him take a seat before you decide his lap is yours, straddling him. He looks wonderful tonight, his beard trimmed clean and his suit retired for a relaxed fit of a black v-neck that shows off his muscular form wonderfully. You're surprised to see he can even wear jeans, so used to his formal attire he usually comes home from work in. There's no blood splatters or blood holes to be found either. Nothing for you to repair, patch up without a word, the dutiful wife who knows her place in this gone for these moments.

You feel like when you just met, and John was just a charming, handsome man who woo'ed you into his life. No secrets were insight, not quite yet, back then. Just typically lack of knowledge of one another. More equal than ever in those moments.

You kiss him, the fire silhouetting the two of you. Your kiss is passionate and deep, your lips finding his and crushing against them with want and warmth from so deep inside you, you wonder if a flame hasn't ignited there as well. You feel your stomach flutter as you kiss, his hands starting at your back, holding you there as you grind into his lap slowly, as if you're trying not to let him know you're doing it at all. He smiles into the kiss, his hips returning the sensation, obviously knowing what you want.

When the kiss finally breaks, your breathless and looking into those dark eyes, the fire dancing twinkling yellow light on them so you can see the amber inside. You watch him for a moment, watch your handsome husband who breathes heavy beneath you, eyes full of want that he is barely holding back. You know he could take you whenever he wishes, flip you like you weighed that of a feather and fuck your brains out just as easily. But he wants to let you play with him, let you enjoy this and watch you as you do.

"Show me how badly you want it," he says, and you already know what he means.

You lift your skirt, your lacy, delicate panties revealing for just a moment as you straddle one of his thighs. You get in position, slowly taking your top, fluffy sweater off, your bralette matching your panties beneath. He watches with curiosity, a lone hand gently, as light as a moth's wing, gliding against your curves, taking them in.

You shudder as if a chill has found you, but all you have inside is that fiery passion that John flames within. You kiss him again, moving down his neck, pulling down to his chest and trying to get as much surface area as you can from his v-neck. Your hips begin to gently grind against his thigh, the feeling of being able to control your pleasure there wonderful. John chuckles while he watches you struggle to kiss deeper, and you think for a moment he may take his shirt off as well.

"Rip it off," he says with a laugh, and you pull back to look at him.

"I don't think I'm strong enough..." You admit with a smile, waiting for him to tease you.

"I want to see you try." He isn't teasing per se, but he is curious to see the strength you wield.

You laugh for a moment, then see how serious his eyes are about it, and bite your lip. You know he wouldn't make fun of you for not being able to do such a thing, you're no trained fighter the way he is, after all. But you do want to impress him.

You grip that V of his shirt a little harder, and clench your fists tight around it, giving it a testing tug. Nothing happens, and you glance to John, who's bemused by the sight.

"You'll have to try harder than that, love." He whispers, still encouraging you with his tone.

You pull harder this time, using all the muscles in your arms as you can. Still, not much, but you think you hear a few seams tear. You try one more time and finally, a decent part of the V rips open, exposing more of his deliciously defined chest.

"That's a good girl, I knew you could do it." He reassures, cupping your face and letting his thumb rub against your lower lip.

You open wide, letting his thumb enter there, playing with your tongue for a moment, before settling in your mouth. You suck joyfully on it, letting him praise you for being so good, rubbing your wetting cunt on his thigh more. He watches you with a pleased grin, his free hand on your hip, guiding you into his thigh. You let your hands explore his chest as much as you want, enjoying the feel of hard muscle against soft skin there.

"Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy and show him how badly you need his cock?" He says with his head tilted in curiosity, watching your reaction.

You moan and nod, still enjoying letting your mind slowly fade away, turning into the dumb little whore you love to be for him. You keep your body rocking against his and he takes his thumb from your mouth, reaching up to your designer skirt, and ripping through it much faster and easier than you did his shirt. He does away with the rest of that as well, and hears your pouting about the ripped skirt.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you another one." he smirks. "I like it better when I can see all of you."

And with that he unzips your bralette from the front, letting your breasts, heavy with want, fall into his large hands. He takes both of them, rubbing them perfectly in unison, enjoying the feeling there. He likes how soft you are, how all your edges are smooth without sharpness. He enjoys how plump and soft your skin is, telling you such things in a whisper, making the heat of a blush rise to your cheeks and chest. You reach back and center your hands on his legs, giving him a better view of what he desires, and note leverage to grind deeper into his thigh. You needy whines begin to echo in the cabin.

"Oh, is that all, darling?" he says. "I think you can show me how much you want it more than that."

You breathe out, your chest heaving, letting your breasts entice him with each lung full of air.

"I need you so bad..." You whisper, your pussy soaking through your panties.

"Oh really? Should Daddy check?" He says, letting one of his hands move to your awaiting cunt, and testing out how wet you are over your panties.

He rubs there, and you lose it, your eyes rolling back and closing with pleasure that runs through you as he plays with your clit. You grind into his hands, so big and waiting for your pretty little cunt to do such a thing. He stops moving, making you whine more from lack of stimulation, but you know he wants to watch you rub yourself against him first.

"I'm not convinced yet." John raises a skeptical eyebrow and you pretend hate how much work he's making you do.

You touch your own breasts, grinding harder and whining louder, calling his name.

"Tell me what you want, baby girl. Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

"I-I..." You try to get that lustfully full and dumb head of yours to bring coherent words from your moans. "I want you to fuck me in front of the fire. On the floor, from behind, and hold me down like the naughty girl I am..."

You feel a shiver run right down to your cunt from how John smirks at you, happy with your response.

He says nothing, and for a moment you're not sure if you've begged enough yet. But then, without warning, he grabs you, flipping you into his arms, and rising from the couch. He pulls you to him, the heat of his skin against yours giving you tingles. Soon, you're on all fours, the pelt of that bear rug thick and soft between your fingers. You look back, and John's hands are already at your panties, and with a gasp from you, he's ripped those off as well and discarded them.

He in zips his jeans, his cock flopping out, girthy and ready for you.

"Put yourself on Daddy's cock, show me that you want it." He breathes with his own lust only barely concealed.

You back up on your knees, feeling his cock flop against your ass, the size of it so intimidating already. You can already feel your cunt clenching from how badly you want it. Your hand reaches back and moves it so his cock is between your legs underneath you, and you slowly stroke it, enjoying the soft breaths John let's out from the pleasure.

You start by letting it slide between your wet folds, letting it rub it's tip against your clit, enjoying the friction there. Then, finally, as John commanded, you line his cock up with your needy entrance, and slowly let the head breach your folds there, popping inside of you as you moan out.

"That's it. Ease yourself onto me."

You do so, slowly letting your ass back up into him, his cock getting deeper and deeper as you do, stretching you out slowly. He may be your husband, but with a cock like that, you've always had to take your time to accomadate him if you didn't want it to be painful. Other times, the slam of his cock so suddenly inside you was desired, but tonight, you two are taking it slow.

You gasp as you feel his full length slowly fill you, so tight and deep inside of you. John's hands play with gripping your ass, before letting a light, but loud slap go on them.

“Fuck, your tight little cunt feels so good, baby…” He sighs out as he carefully pulls his hips back, starting to pump inside you after.

You moan, loving the way he praises you like that, loving being a good girl for him who takes all of his girthy cock whenever he wants. You hate to admit how mindless you go when he fucks you like this. You feel like every worry and thought is fucked right out of your pretty little head.

John's cock begins to pick up speed, and with your sudden gasps and moans from the faster stimulation he asks if you're taking it alright.

You give a confirming noise and nod, but you can barely speak from how good you're feeling right now.

“That’s a good girl,” John says, his voice tight and husky from how much he's enjoying fucking you. “I want you to touch yourself for me, baby. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

You feel tingles run across your back as his hands station there, plunging his cock deeper as he does. At this rate, you feel like you might even just cum from what he's doing right now. Yet, your clit aches from the lack of attention, so you shift your weight and body so your hand can reach beneath yourself to get to that tender spot.

“Yes, baby…Show me how much you love me fucking you.” John’s voice hushes to you, soft, but commanding.

You do just that, feeling yourself in just the right way, you pleasure doubling as he continues to fill you up with his cock over and over again. You find your cheek against the fur rug, the heat from the fire prickling your skin, at this point making you almost start to sweat. You close your eyes, mouth open and moans uncontrollable.

“Look at me.” John commands, and your eyes flutter open, your head turned to look back at him.

John is just so gorgeous. His ripped, lean body, the glisten of sweat gleaming and twinkling in the fire light. But what really turns you on is his eye contact. Those wolf-like eyes, so deep and dark, looking at you. You can't help but feel like prey to him when he's like this, the way he looks at you like a predator who's just about to earn his hunt. You feel your cunt tightening as you do what he says, your own eyes look at him with scared little doe eyes, afraid to disobey, to not please.

You watch as your husband continues to pound your cunt into oblivion, taking more and more, picking up speed despite how brutal it's already starting to feel. You love the feeling, the feeling of allowing your husband so much power over you, of letting him take your body however he wants. You feel your eyes flutter closed from how close you are, cunt tightening to try to get closer, breath held.

You also hear a deep, animalistic growl from John, and you know you're breaking the rules. He commanded you to look at him, and now you're losing yourself in your pleasure without doing so. Even after you correct yourself, eyes meeting his, you know you've earned a punishment.

He wrenches your hips back into his cock, keeping you there with one hand in a steel grip, the other lifting off and pulling back to slap your ass. You cry out at the first hit, feeling a sting reverberate there. The worst part was how much wetter it made you, how closer you were from every spank he laid upon you ass. He continues, a small smirk on his lips, he knows what he's doing to you.

“Tell me how much you like. Tell me how you deserve to be fucked like this.” John's voice wavers and you know he needs to hear it just as much as you do.

“I…” You try to make your brain work, another gasp and another slap, your ass now red with his hand print. “I need you to punish me for being a bad girl, and not following your rules.”

Your hand is viciously rubbing your swollen and wet cunt, being pushed to its edge by how deep and hard John thrusts into you.

“And?” John urges you on, his cock feeling harder and harder, swollen and ready to fill you as soon as he lets himself do so.

“And I want you to spank me until I'm left with a mark to remember to be a good girl next time…!” You cry out, so close, wanting to close your eyes and focus on your pleasure, but forcing yourself to keep that eye contact with him.

You hear John growl once more, this time from how much he's holding back right now. You know he wants to cum, but he's waiting on you. Your legs begin to shake as you continue to hastily play with your clit. John seems as if he can't take it anymore, and he grabs your hips, pulling them up, his hand snaking under you and pushing yours aside.

“Let Daddy do it for you.” He says as if he's frustrated beyond your comprehension, but you love the way he touches you, so you allow it.

His large hands take up so much more space, engulfing your clit, milking it in the perfect way that makes your breath leave your body and your muscles clench with shivers. You take all he is giving you, watching him as he begins to lose himself in you. You tighten around his cock to a point you don't think you can do more, and begin to feel yourself come over the edge, cunt fluttering and spasming around him.

“That’s my girl…” He sighs out, obviously there is relief in the fact that he can do this for you.

You try your hardest to keep eye contact, but in the end, you close them, finding yourself lost in your own competition. You relish in the feeling of his hand taking your pleasure from you, slowing down and making it last. You feel as he reaches his own point, and finally with a groan, John spills inside of you as you're on the tail end of your finishing. His cum feels hot, almost tingly inside of you, making your head fall against the rug as you take his rutting against you, digging his cum in as deep as he can into your tight little cunt.

When he's done, he slowly pulls out, his hand swiping any stray cum and slipping it back inside you with ease. You feel completely exhausted, and he can tell. John takes you into his arms, pulling you onto his chest as he lays next to the fire with you. You feel yourself softly drift off to sleep as John pets your hair, whispering sweet praises in your ear.

“I love you…” He ends on after complimenting your body and everything else he adores about you.

You softly mumble a return, and with that sleep has taken you.

❄️.*ㅤ

John surprises you for the rest of the trip. Ice skating down at the lake, amazing dinners, long baths together with glasses of bubbly champagne just to name a few.

When it comes to the day of Christmas Eve, he's somehow managed to make some of your favorite family dishes. You look over the feast, and feel at home here with him. You never want to leave this cabin, but you know in the coming days you will have to. You love how close you and John have gotten here.

“How did you know?” You say after he reveals tonight's dinner, John’s arms wrapped around you while he snuggles into the crook of your neck.

“I have my ways…” He says mysteriously, and you know he will just leave it at that.

You two dine, laughing and carefree, something you didn't think you would see from John this often.

When you're done, you curl up on a couch near the tree, and John begins to pull out a few presents.

“Don’t you want to wait until tomorrow?” You ask him.

“I know your family always celebrates on Christmas Eve instead of day…” And for a moment you try to remember if you've told your husband that, or if this is another one of his mysterious ways.

You decide it doesn't matter, because you're just happy he cares and is thoughtful enough for any of this.

He hands you a small silver wrapped box first. He watches as you accept it and begins to open it with a smile twinkling in his dark eyes. You can tell he enjoys this.

You open the present, and are met with the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. It's perfectly your taste, and when John goes to put it on you, it hangs beautifully on your neckline. You feel him kiss up your neck as you thank him for something so gorgeous.

“You don't need to thank me,” he whispers in your ear. “Someone as beautiful as you deserves beautiful gifts.”

You can't help the smile creeping on your lips from that line, and you turn so your lips can crush against his with a grin. He turns the kiss, his soft, plump lips enjoying yours.

Then, it's your turn. You hand him a gift from you, and you feel a little nervous in comparison to what he's just given you. You know yours is less expensive, and you wonder if you should have gone for something so handmade.

John slowly and carefully tears off the red and green wrapping, and when he's done he's met with a small leather-bound book. He glances up at you with curiosity, then opens it.

What he finds is a photo album filled with photos of you two over the time you've been together. There's pictures of you on some of your first dates with him, pictures of your honeymoon, vacations you've had together. There's even some of you two around the apartment being silly together. John says nothing, but slowly turns each page, looking over each photo with care.

You fiddle with the edge of your sleeve, wondering if he likes it or not.

Finally, he gets to the end where you've left a heartfelt message to him about how you feel. He reads it, then to your relief, a smile slowly finds itself on his lips.

“This is…” He starts, then loses the words. “I can't describe to you how perfect this is.”

You feel the breath you were holding leave your lungs, and you lean into him next to you on the couch. He wraps an arm around you and brings you closer, kissing the top of your head as he does.

“I…will cherish this, thank you, my love…” He whispers into your ear, and you feel your heart swell.

You two continue exchanging smaller gifts, John somehow getting everything on your list, and you outfitting him with things he likes. You know the first gift was his favorite from how he keeps looking through it. You two end the night with rum and eggnogs while watching your favorite Christmas show, happy to be with each other. You couldn't ask for a better Christmas.

#john wick x reader #john wick fic #john wick fanfic #john wick x f!reader #my writing #christmas 2023

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thedroneranger · 1 year

Text

Tip of the Cap

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: A cowboy hat, a combination cap—if you wear either, you better be ready for the ride...

Note: Just a little smutty something that's been sitting in my WIPs half written. Finally finished it. ** high-five** I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 2.7k

A smile pulled your lips as you thought about how good Jake looked tonight. He could wear a potato sack, and he would still be the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. However, you were an absolute sucker for him in uniform, and when he was in his dress whites, watch out.

Jake still on the brain, you stood in front of the mirror, that hung over the dresser, and removed your jewelry. You were battling an earring when you made eye contact with him through the mirror. His gaze made you stand a little straighter. “Lieutenant,” you said with a half salute and cheeky smile.

Still in full dress, including his combination cap, he sidled up behind you. “At ease.” He removed his hat and rested it on your head. Too big, it fell over your eyes.

While you adjusted it, his hands came to your hips and his lips ghosted your jawline. You purred when he nipped the spot where your shoulder met your neck. By the time you got his cap just right, Jake was done teasing you and headed to the walk-in closet.

You pouted at your reflection after he disappeared. Contemplating your next move, your eyes floated to the closet door one more time. You laid his hat on the dresser and began to unzip your dress.

All evening, you had been waiting for this moment. Earlier, when you were getting ready for Jake’s ceremony, you had decided to wear lingerie under your gown. An after-event surprise you knew he would love.

This set, in particular, would definitely catch his attention. The last time you wore it, he had just returned from deployment. Before he left, you and your best friend had a wine night to take polaroids of you in it. A treat that you stuffed into Jake’s duffle for him to find later. Once he did, his only request was for you to model it when he got home.

You kept an eye on the closet as you undressed. Headed for the bed, you spied his hat and decided to take it with you. Nestled among the pillows, you arranged yourself with your head resting in the crook of your elbow. With your free hand, you adjusted the hat one more time and waited.

Finally, Jake emerged from the closet. He was shirtless as he darted toward the ensuite bathroom. However, he did a double take and changed course when he saw you. “What is this?” He stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his thick chest and his eyes locked on you.

You let your fingers trail over the curve of your breasts, and then the lace covering your nipples, and finally down your bare stomach. “My uniform.” You tried not to smirk as you adjusted the too big hat. His lips quirked trying to restrain a smirk.

Jake unfolded his arms, placed a knee on the bed and climbed so he was hovering over you. He supported himself with a hand on either side of your head and his knee slotted between your thighs as you looked at each other. “I’m not sure you meet uniform standard,” he said.

“Oh?” You cocked an eyebrow, and then looked between the two of you as you dragged an index finger down his chest, through his diastasis and dipped it into the waistband of his pants. “Enlighten me.” You met his gaze while you unzipped his trousers. A smirk pulled a corner of his mouth.

His eyes glanced over you, and then he dropped his head to your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts. “No ribbons or insignias—minus four points.” He trailed kisses down your stomach. “No shirt—immediately discharged.”

Your body shook as you giggled. He pressed a kiss below your navel. “No belt—minus two points.” His lips grazed your skin. “No pants—you’re already discharged…” He looked at you as he trailed off.

He sat back on his haunches and pulled one of your ankles to rest over his shoulder. You watched as his large palm traveled up your thigh, past your knee and gripped your shin. He pressed a kiss to your calf. His hand began its descent in the direction it had come. At the same time, you pressed your foot flat to his chest. He looked at it. “No shoes?” His lips quirked and his eyebrow cocked as he gazed down at you. His eyes floated to his hat resting on your head. “Your cover, however, is passable.”

“Passable?” You scoffed and slid your foot up his chest until your ankle hung back over his shoulder. Leaning forward, he bent your leg toward you. Your other leg enveloped his waist. He leaned over you, supporting himself with his hands.

“It’s clean, the emblem is in good condition and no loose strings,” he explained. You smirked at him. “However.” Jake paused for effect. “It’s a little big…” he trailed off. As if intentional, the hat slipped down your brow. Before you could push it up, Jake lifted it off your head and placed it on his. “It’s definitely made for me.” Adjusting the hat, he winked and sat back again. Hands resting on his thighs, Jake looked down at you through hooded eyes. His smirk lured you to make the next move.

You pushed yourself into a seated position, folding your legs under you and facing Jake. Keeping eye contact, you reached behind you and unclasped your top. Your eyes never left his as you shimmied the straps off your shoulders, holding the cups to your chest while you freed your arms. Then you slowly pulled the fabric from your body and tossed it aside.

Jake thought he was subtle, but you caught the split second his gaze dropped to your chest. A smile pulled your lips as you leaned forward, shifting to all fours. As you did, Jake assumed a kneeling version of parade position—hands behind his back, facing straight ahead, knees spread hip distance. You crawled toward him, and then straddled one of his thighs. Hands behind his back, he let his eyes fall to you as you ground against him. You whimpered from the friction. Using your palms for support against the mattress, you leaned back so you were on full display for him.

You rolled your nipple between your fingers until it pebbled. Switching hands, you gave your other one the same attention. Then, you pushed yourself up so you were again face-to-face with Jake and draped your arms around his neck. One hand settled on the side of his face, your thumb gliding along his lower lip.

Jake’s restraint was impeccable. You bumped his hard-on a few times with your knee as you settled onto his lap, grazing your chest against his. Jake’s hands remained behind his back and his gaze distant as you teased him.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” The minute the words left your mouth, Jake’s hands were on you. One slid over your waist and down your back to rest on your ass. And the other pulled your hips closer to him, and then it rose to your ribcage to press your torso even closer to his.

Your hand cradling his jaw, thumb resting on his lower lip, Jake pushed his lips against your thumb. His expression warmed to match the lust in his jade eyes.

He tilted his chin up and you dropped your hand to his throat, sliding it around the side so your thumb came to rest behind his ear and drew little circles. The two of you gazed at each other, and your eyes floated to the hat standing between your lips and Jake’s. He watched as you moved it from his head to yours. “Does the cowboy hat rule count for a combination cap?” you asked with a smoldering smile, and then you leaned down so your lips met his.

His grip on you tightened, and he rolled his pelvis into you as your tongue played with his. You hummed as you pulled back and your hand came to rest between his clavicles. You lazily drew a heart with your index finger and watched the corners of his mouth pull into a smile.

“It does now.” The gravelyness of his southern drawl pulled the coil in your stomach a little tighter. You pushed your lips against his again. He matched your intensity, gripping your ass tighter and squeezing your body closer.

You pulled back to look down at Jake. His head was tilted back to meet your gaze. You let your thumb wander down the side of his face. He hummed as you touched him, and you could feel the vibrations under your fingertips. “Is that so, cowboy?” you asked playfully.

“Yeah,” he answered. You ground yourself against his thigh as you waited for him to continue. “You’re made for me just like this hat is made for me.”

“Mhmmm, perfect fit.” You agreed with a smile.

“And tonight, I plan to wear ya at the same time.” He closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. While you were a tangle of teeth and tongues, Jake guided your bodies so he could furrow himself into the bedding, leaving you laying on top of him.

Your thighs hugged his hips and your bare chests pressed together as you made out. As your lips separated, you sat up, assessing your position. A wicked grin carved your lips as you ground into his aching lap. His hands gripped your thighs.

“Only thing you’re wearing right now is too much clothing.” You were already moving so you could help discard his remaining garments.

A smirk quirked Jake’s lips, and you could feel your pupils dilate as he lifted his hips for you pulled his pants and underwear down. Animatedly, his cock sprung free of his boxer briefs and slapped against his lower stomach.

Once Jake was completely naked, you ditched your panties and slipped back onto your perch. Slotting his length between your folds, you slid back and forth to slicken him with your arousal. The unintelligible groans while his fingers dug into your hips egged you on.

You loved teasing Jake. Rubbing your engorged clit along the underside of his length. Mixed fluids lubricating you while you pressed your palms into his broad chest for support. In fact, you both got off many times this way.

However, tonight, Jake wasn’t having it. Although his eyes were nearly in the back of his head, he still had the wherewithal to guide himself into you. Slowing your pace, you lifted your hips to allow him entrance.

A soft whine bubbled out of your throat as he stretched you. One of his hands slid back to knead your ass. Momentarily his touch disappeared, and then his open palm connected with a swift crack. You sat up straighter as a surprised yelped escaped you, and you clenched around his cock.

“That’s it,” he praised, loving the feeling of you hugging him tighter. Another smack, and you clenched him again. “You know it’s coming, and you can’t help yourself.” He followed his comment with another swat.

He smiled as a strangled groan emitted from you. You were supposed to be in control, riding Jake since you put on his hat. However, the man had zero patience. His hips thrusted up, pitching you forward. Your hands were splayed on his chiseled chest to keep yourself as upright as possible while he fucked up into you.

You loved when Jake got like this. So aroused, he couldn’t hold back. Instead, he had his hand wrapped around the front of your neck as he bucked his hips. Meanwhile, you had one hand wrapped around his wrist and the other holding his cover on your head.

Jake’s thrusts were getting sloppy, and as if on cue, he shook out of your grasp and shifted his hand from your throat to the back of your neck. The other looped behind one of your knees, and he gently flipped you so you were underneath him.

“I’ll take that.” He plucked his cap off your head and seated it on his. Then he was back to thrusting into you, pressing you further and further into your shared mattress.

Desperate for purchase, you clutched Jake’s biceps the best you could—he would have tiger stripes in the morning. One of your legs over his shoulder, the other draped over his forearm, he relentlessly pounded into you.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praised. Unable to articulate a response, you felt zero shame in the messy moans and whiny whimpers that fell from your lips. Each one only made Jake stretch your lower limbs further for deeper penetration.

Jake stilled and you could feel him spurting into you, coating your walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and his cock, still half hard, bounced out. A little dollop of cum accentuated his handiwork.

“Fuck, so gorgeous.” Jake admired, kneeling back on his haunches. His palms gripped your thighs, keeping you spread as he watched your mixed arousal drip down, threatening to hit the duvet.

As you were catching your breath, Jake climbed off the foot of the bed, dragging you with him until your hips were situated on the edge. He sank to his knees, yours bracketing his head. You were careful not to knock his hat off.

Zero warning, he swiped a broad tongue from your cum-soaked hole to your sensitive nerves. Arms wrapped your hips to hold you steady as he fucked his tongue into you. Whining, back arching, you fisted the bedding and squeezed your eyes shut.

Two thick fingers replaced his tongue. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to take care of you.” You opened your eyes in time to see him punctuate his statement with a kiss to your cleft. Then he slid his mouth a little lower to suction around your swollen clit, sucking at the same rhythm as his fingers scissoring and curling inside you.

He knew you were close. Your walls tightening, Jake made the game-time decision to swap his fingers for his hard-again cock. He literally didn’t miss a beat. The extra stretch from his girth was just what you needed.

Your heels rested on Jake’s ass, while he continued to pump into you. One hand found its way into your hair, and the other pried your fist open to lace his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand just as your walls contracted around him, your orgasm washing over you. Jake covered your lips with his, swallowing your breathy gasps.

Then, he pulled your hair just enough to elicit a pleasurable whine, which was music to his ears as he kissed your neck and chest. His hat was askew. As you came back to the present and soaked in the scene, you couldn’t help but giggle. Jake was flushed, lips puffy and the only fabric on his body was his standard-issue U.S. Navy combination cap.

“Looks good on you.” With your free hand, you straightened his hat.

He bared his teeth, giving his signature smile. “Not as good as you look on me.” He shifted his hips, reminding you where you were connected. Not caring if his hat fell off, he leaned in for a kiss. His tongue tickled the seam of your lips before entering your mouth. Your hand shifted to his cheek.

Untangling himself from you, Jake pressed himself off the bed. You rolled onto your back, clenching your thighs to recover from the empty feeling. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught Jake’s ass retreating into the closet. You giggled to yourself as you rested your cheek into the bedding and kicked your legs into the air.

“I was thinking for Round 2 we could use the real deal.” You picked up your head to find Jake strolling back over to the bed wearing only his favorite Stetson. His cock was erect and ready for duty.

A smile pulled your lips as you sat up on the bed, hugging your legs to your chest. He stood in front of you and gently placed the hat on your head. “Looking to see a little more of me, cowboy?” you asked.

“I’m looking to see all of you,” he responded.

Fulfilling his statement, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. Head tilted back to look him in the eyes, you flexed onto your tiptoes so you could put his hat back on his head. “How about a change of scenery?” Slipping past him, you walked backward toward the ensuite bathroom. You winked before disappearing across the threshold.

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femininenachos · 12 days

Note

Hello lovely. I’ve been thinking about vacation au. Please tell me Clarke runs into Lexa swimming in some crystal clear Grecian water and wells has to close her mouth for her.

(Not quite, but close!)

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

By mid-morning the narrow streets near the harbour are already swarming with island hoppers fresh off the ferry. More line the quayside, waiting to board the day cruise that takes in the larger, more populous archipelago further down the coast. So-called ‘jewels of the Aegean’, they’re feted for being playgrounds of the rich and famous, boasting a slew of luxury resort hotels, designer boutiques and staggeringly expensive seafront restaurants.

For all its charm and scenic vistas, at least Polis has one foot in the real world. Here, craggy-faced fishermen and dock hands in scruffy overalls are hard at work unloading the morning’s catch, doing their best to ignore the clusters of tourists floating around, or at least tolerating their presence with stoic indifference.

And—it’s possible Clarke might be biased—Polis has Lexa, currently leading the charge like a woman on a mission. Clarke sticks close, her hand in Lexa’s sure grip, hurrying to match her loping strides as they make a beeline for the marina. Along the way they pass an assortment of small motorboats in all shapes and sizes, from dinghies and jet skis to skiffs and cabin cruisers and everything in between, until a gleaming white single-masted sailboat comes into view at last.

Clarke stops dead in her tracks on the cobblestones, fingers slipping from Lexa’s.

Her jaw drops.

“Is this yours?”

Lexa glances over and laughs at Clarke’s expression. “I make good tips, but not that much.”

She points to the modest vessel moored next to it, an open-top vintage deck boat with a walnut veneer interior and burnt orange leather upholstery that’s bleached from exposure to the sun and the salty sea air. ‘Spirit of Polis’ is written in blue cursive script on the hull.

“I mean, this one’s great too,” Clarke is quick to respond. She styles it out. “Not so flashy. Compact. Classic. Nice, uh, sleek lines.”

Lexa peers over the top of her sunglasses, lips subtly twisting to the side. “It belongs to my uncle, so you don’t have to worry about offending me or the boat.”

She puts down the cooler containing their provisions of cold drinks and extends a hand to help Clarke aboard. A little unsteady on her feet at first, Clarke holds on tightly for support while she finds her balance, shifting her weight to counteract the bobbing motion of the boat as water sloshes against the sides. Once she’s confident she isn’t going to fall flat on her face or, worse, into the harbour, she takes a few cautious steps to reach the small seating area at the rear. She shrugs off her tote bag to stow under the bench and situates herself, the sun-scorched leather burning hot against the backs of her thighs.

From this safe perch (and prime ogling spot), she watches Lexa collect the thick rope that tethers the boat, tossing it onto the deck before she gracefully hops across with the cooler and gets behind the controls. Full of poise at the helm, like it’s second nature to assume command, the signature pout in place as Lexa lifts her chin like she’s surveying her nautical domain.

It goes without saying that the whole preppy, boat-captain vibe is one hundred percent working in her favour.

Shades on. Hair spilling down her back in glossy chestnut waves, the ends getting whipped around by the wind. Appealing in her pale pink button-down worn over a snug white tank. Shirt open and catching the light breeze, the sleeves rolled up to reveal a hint of muscle definition and the ink that encircles her bicep. Tight little navy blue shorts hug her hips and ass in ways that are about to cause a major international incident at sea, because Clarke is far from looking respectfully.

“Ready?”

When her eyes snap up, she spies the half-smile on Lexa’s side profile, as though she detects the unholy thirst emanating from mere feet away.

Clarke gives a slow, absentminded nod, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as her eyes make another involuntary sweep down Lexa’s form.

“Clarke.”

She gets a hold of herself, breathing in deeply, and with it the spell is broken.

“Mm? Oh, yeah,” she says, feeling a resurgent wiggle of anticipation about this mystery adventure they’re about to embark on together. All Lexa was willing to divulge when they met is that it’s Polis’s best-kept secret, a spot known only to locals, unreachable except by boat, and so far unspoiled by tourists. Clarke had feigned offense on the last point, but soon dropped the act when Lexa tilted in for a kiss that went on and on and made her stomach clench. Each time Clarke started to retreat, Lexa would chase her mouth and draw her back in for more.

Her lips are still tingling.

(Both sets.)

“At least give me a hint about where we’re going?”

The enigmatic smirk that plays around Lexa’s mouth widens a fraction. “I thought you liked surprises.”

“Oh, I do. But I’m also stubborn as hell and won’t take no for an answer, so jot that down.”

It earns a laugh, one Clarke is fast becoming enamoured with, and she can’t control the warm tingle that goes through her when she hears it or the rush of elation she gets from bringing a rare grin to Lexa’s face.

“Good to know,” Lexa says as she reaches for the ignition key. Her next words are almost lost to the splutter and chug of the engine before it roars to life. “I like a challenge.”

~*~

Within an hour, they reach a small, secluded cove surrounded by sheer limestone cliffs, the ancient rock sculpted by wind and waves, where sparse scatterings of tall, rugged pines sprout precariously from narrow ledges in defiance of the elements.

It appears like a mirage, shimmering into view: a bay of dreamy, pristine, white-gold sands and crystal clear turquoise waters, serene and inviting, and there isn’t a soul in sight. The closest thing they had to company was the pod of dolphins they spotted off the starboard (Clarke learned) side about twenty minutes ago. She’d gasped and clutched Lexa’s arm, bouncing on her heels in sheer delight. But it was the look they shared, brimming with joy and something unaccountably softer and fonder, that made it all the more magical, the moment already locked into Clarke’s memory.

“What do you think?” Lexa asks.

Lost for words, Clarke shakes her head in silent awe.

She turns to Lexa, and the smile Lexa directs at her, eyes bright and glowing in the sunlight, leaves her just as speechless. When Clarke finds her voice at last, it comes out thick, clogged with emotion; touched and amazed by the incredible beauty of what she sees—the place, and the woman who brought her here. So moved that she’s dangerously close to shedding a tear, her vision glazing over.

She blinks the moisture away.

“It’s…” She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. Lifts her eyebrows. “Wow.”

She doesn’t second guess the impulse to wrap an arm around Lexa’s waist, to plant a soft, grateful kiss on her jaw.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Full lips twitch at the corners. “My pleasure.”

With one hand resting on the wheel, Lexa drapes her free arm around Clarke’s shoulders. They remain like that, Clarke hugging Lexa’s side and taking in the spectacular scenery as Lexa guides the boat in at a steady rate of knots.

“I can’t believe this place has stayed under the radar. You’d think tour operators would be running excursions out here every hour until sunset.”

“Clarke.” Lexa grows serious all of a sudden, and that only makes Clarke want to kiss her again. Coax another smile. “You must promise not to tell anyone. It’s how we preserve it for future generations.”

Clarke schools her features, pretending to match Lexa’s gravity.

“Well… it’ll cost you. My silence doesn’t come cheap.”

The slight frown Lexa wears smooths out as soon as she catches on. A quizzical eyebrow flexes in a way that’s rudely attractive.

“Name your price, but don’t forget I work in hospitality.”

“I’m not interested in your money, Lexa. What I want” - Clarke trails her hand over Lexa’s hip and the perfect curve of her backside to give it a slow, purposeful squeeze, relishing Lexa’s intake of breath and the darkening of her gaze as she glances at Clarke’s lips - “is you.”

She meant to say “your body” but she doesn’t correct the verbal slip. Because, yeah, she does want to bend Lexa into all kinds of shapes like a pretzel, but she also has a deep desire to learn more about Lexa as a person, to find out what makes her tick, beyond what she likes to do in bed.

Lexa takes it in stride regardless, easing back into the confidence she has in spades.

Something about the slope of her smile signals she’s about to gain the upper hand.

She shrugs.

“Okay, deal.”

The enduring gleam in Lexa’s eyes before she turns her attention back to the sea gives Clarke palpitations. Her pulse thunders in her ears, drowning out the engine noise and the crash of the boat breaking the waves.

~*~

They drop anchor a short distance from the shore, an easy swim from the dazzling white sands. Not yet ready to take a dip, preferring to bake in the heat for a while first, Clarke spreads a large beach towel on the deck for sunbathing. She senses Lexa’s attention on her as she shimmies out of her shorts and shucks her loose tee to reveal the red halter neck two-piece that Octavia helped pick out after breakfast.

(“Hellooo, mama,” Octavia had drawled after Clarke emerged from the en suite and gave a reluctant twirl. She’d let out a low whistle as she ran her eyes up and down. “Almost wish I was tagging along just to watch Sexy Lexy’s head spin 360-degrees before it explodes. The twins ain’t playing.”)

At the time, Clarke had rolled her eyes and fought a blush but she’s glad she went with O’s suggestion.

Aware of her present captive audience, she proceeds to get comfortable on her back. One knee bent, an arm tucked behind her head as a pillow, showing off her best assets like a 1950s calendar pinup girl. Even behind the dark tinted lenses of her sunglasses, she sees Lexa’s eyes hungrily trace the shape of her body. Clarke basks in it, a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth, secure in the knowledge that she’s not just a snack, she’s the whole damn meal, and Lexa looks like she wants to devour every last crumb.

But Clarke’s smugness is short-lived, because in the next moment she’s the one left gawking when Lexa wordlessly strips down to the skimpiest pair of bikini bottoms and not a stitch else, brow quirking up as she peers over her shoulder then dives off the deck, slicing through the water with barely a splash.

Clarke quickly levers up onto her elbows to watch Lexa surface seconds later, hair slicked back and plastered to her skull, a sly little tilt to her lips as she treads water.

“Come on in. The temperature is perfect,” she calls out, looking every inch the siren that lures thirsty sapphic sailors to their deaths.

Clarke tries to cling on to the last vestiges of composure she has remaining.

“Gonna work on my tan for a little bit.”

The pout returns and she laughs, “Soon!”

Grabbing the tube of sunscreen from her nearby tote, she squeezes a large dollop into her palm. While Lexa does slow laps around the boat, Clarke liberally reapplies the lotion, slathering it on until all the exposed skin within reach is covered.

Before long, she hears Lexa climb the ladder onto the swim platform, accompanied by the rush of water cascading off her body as she rises out of the sea.

The soft slap of wet footfalls draws nearer.

“Lex?” Clarke twists around. “Could you do my—”

She stalls mid-sentence, only cognizant of her fingers closing hard around the tube in her hand when a spurt of lotion shoots out, splattering across her thigh and the towel.

She doesn’t even flinch.

All Clarke can do is gape and stare, watching rivulets of water run down the slope of Lexa’s bare chest. Eyes drawn inexorably to taut nipples and golden skin that glistens under the sun, to the long, lean lines of Lexa and the scrap of luminous orange fabric that sits low on her hips.

Clarke’s belly tightens, arousal flaring hot between her legs.

(A voice in her head that sounds disturbingly like Wells tells her to close her mouth.)

She has to remind herself to breathe.

Is thankful for the oversized shades that partially mask her expression, because she isn’t in control of what her face is doing right now. But if Lexa’s lip-bitten smile is any indication, it’s a lost cause anyway.

Casually wringing the water out of her hair as she approaches, Lexa glances at the milky white streak on Clarke’s inner thigh.

“Not the first time I’ve made a girl squirt.”

Clarke mutters a sarcastic “ha ha”, rubs the lotion into her skin, then wipes her hands on the edge of the towel before she reclines again. She fakes nonchalance when Lexa sinks down beside her, but it’s impossible to ignore the butterflies.

She rolls her shoulders and stares at the sky above, fixating on the solitary vapour trail that cuts across the endless blue.

“Speaking of previous liaisons... do you bring all your conquests here?” She’s mostly kidding, but there’s an undercurrent of needing to know too. She peers at Lexa. “Or am I one of the lucky few?”

A slow shake of Lexa’s head before she leans over on her elbow, closing in and partially blocking the sun, and Clarke’s skepticism must be plain to see, because Lexa looks so intensely sincere now, no trace of a smile or any disingenuousness when she says: “It’s the truth, I swear.”

Still, Clarke has her doubts. There’s no way Lexa isn’t tripping over hot women throwing themselves at her feet and this boat trip is too well-orchestrated not to be a tried and tested seduction technique.

Clarke peels off her shades to look Lexa square in the eye, and that frank, steady gaze pierces straight through her.

“I mean it, Clarke.”

The space between them shrinks.

Lexa’s pupils dilate as her focus shifts to parted lips. “You’re special.”

Water drips off the ends of Lexa’s hair onto Clarke’s shoulder and chest, and whatever rebuttal she had dies in her throat. She’s the one to reach out, gripping Lexa by the neck to tug her the rest of the way and kiss her like Clarke’s been dreaming of all morning.

As soon as Lexa throws a long leg over Clarke to straddle her, knees bracketing her hips, she needs no further convincing.

It’s on.

She dips her tongue inside Lexa’s mouth and slides both hands up Lexa’s rib cage to cup her breasts, a shiver running through Clarke when she feels the hard poke of nipples against her palms. She kneads, and the low, throaty noise it earns her sets her nerves alight, warm tingles suffusing her body.

They kiss deeply, greedily.

They kiss until Clarke has to drag her mouth away to gulp down some air, only to have the oxygen punched out of her lungs once again when Lexa uses the opportunity to shove her bikini bottoms off, scoop her mane of wet hair to one side and resettle against Clarke’s thigh. With her hands planted on either side of Clarke’s shoulders, Lexa holds herself up as she starts to work along the tensed muscle.

The slick, molten feel of Lexa, sliding against her skin, riding Clarke, makes her burn. She lurches up into the next kiss, hungrily reclaiming Lexa’s mouth, urging her on with a grip on her ass, and that shaky little hitch of breath in the back of Lexa’s throat whenever the friction gets her just right succeeds in getting Clarke wetter and wetter too. At this rate, she might come before Lexa does, and the odds only increase when Lexa takes Clarke’s hand and guides it between her legs.

“Use your fingers.”

Another surge of heat floods through Clarke at the instruction, hearing the normally smooth, modulated tone of Lexa’s voice roughed by need.

Clarke studies Lexa’s face, watching for the tiny flickers of reaction as she runs her fingers lower, fascinated by each and every twitch and jolt and slight gasp as she explores. She dips in and drags the wetness up to swirl around Lexa’s clit and is rewarded by the sharp jerk of Lexa’s hips and quite possibly the dirtiest kiss of Clarke’s entire life. She needs no prompting to slide through slick heat to tease at Lexa’s entrance again, fingertips doing a couple of slow swirls before she pauses.

For a beat they remain suspended in a freeze frame of anticipation. Each holding still, a breath caught in their throats.

On the exhale Clarke pushes inside.

And fuck, she missed this. Touching yourself is great and all, empowering, fantastic for stress relief, et cetera. But nothing beats the sound another woman makes when you enter her for the first time, when you hear that shaky intake of breath and you feel her clench around your fingers.

“Good?” Clarke asks.

Lexa nods, bottom lip held between her teeth as she looks down at Clarke with hooded eyes, the green of her irises nearly eclipsed by black.

Part of Clarke can’t quite believe this is her reality. That she’s buried to the knuckles and Lexa is moving on her, rolling to meet the steady pump of her wrist.

She glances between their bodies and a groan escapes, another sharp twist of lust coiling in the pit of her stomach once her eyes fasten on her own two fingers coated with Lexa’s arousal, fucking into her. But Clarke pries her eyes away, roving over tight abdominals, taking in the curves of Lexa’s tits and the jut of her nipples, torn between wanting them in her mouth and watching her fingers disappear inside again.

It’s Lexa’s half-stifled whimper when Clarke’s thumb finds her clit that sharpens her focus.

Winding her arm around Lexa’s lower back, Clarke sits them upright and swiftly brings their lips together. The abrupt change of angle has Lexa gasping hotly into her mouth. Again, louder, when Clarke’s palm rubs in. Lexa grips her by the shoulder and the back of her neck, blunt nails digging in as Lexa grinds down harder, faster, speeding towards the climax—the first of many, if Clarke has her way—sucking in short, sharp gasps while Clarke keeps pace, despite it being hell on her wrist.

They’re hardly kissing at all now, mouths hanging slack and sharing the same air, noses pressing into cheeks as they pant against one another’s lips.

She soon feels the first flutters, the growing tension in Lexa’s form, the choppy motion of Lexa’s hips and the careless scratch of her nails at Clarke’s nape. She curls the tips of her fingers on each partial drag out then slams back in, lifting Lexa an inch off her lap with each thrust. Clarke keeps the heel of her palm tight against Lexa’s clit, the pressure firm and constant, and in the next collection of halting, rapid breaths, Lexa’s whole frame pulls taut. A ragged cry is torn from her throat and she clenches hard, coming in a hot spill around Clarke’s fingers. Lexa shudders through it, a tremble in her jaw when she catches Clarke’s mouth in a fierce, bruising kiss, licking into her with a groan that makes Clarke gush in turn.

They remain in a heavy lip lock long after the tremors subside, neither inclined to separate. Restless hands weave through Clarke’s hair then seek out her curves, roaming down her chest with purpose, pushing under the top half of her swimsuit. She gives a low hum of approval when Lexa’s thumbs roll over the tight tips of her nipples, the ache mirrored in the dull, pulsing emptiness between her legs.

She feels close to orgasm already, like if she got even the tiniest bit of friction she’d go off like a rocket. Just a small shift of her hand to grind against her own knuckles would do it. But the way Lexa is touching her breasts, palms running all over, teasing her nipples into stiff, hypersensitive points, might be enough to get Clarke there.

And all the while, she’s still inside Lexa. Fucking her lazily with slow presses of her fingers, incapable of much more vigour when her wrist is screaming. She’s debating what to do next, whether to withdraw and flip Lexa onto her back for round two or continue like this, when a distant droning noise intrudes, faintly audible above the gentle lap of water, the thick, wet squelch of Clarke’s hand working between Lexa’s thighs, and their combined heavy breathing.

Growing more distracted by the second, Clarke draws her mouth away. She squints at the horizon beneath the shade of her free hand while warm lips meander along her jaw and down her neck.

She ceases her movements, despite Lexa’s meaningful buck of her hips and the subsequent small growl of complaint when Clarke fails to take the hint.

“What’s—” Teeth nip at the fading hickey on her throat and she gasps, hand flying to tangle in Lexa’s damp, curling hair. But as the object begins to resolve itself, Clarke tenses for a different reason. “Is that a boat?”

Lexa abandons her sulk to look too.

A white shape is rapidly approaching, throwing up sea spray, sunlight glinting off the surface and the waves and making it difficult to discern from this distance until… oh. Oh, yeah.

Letting out a string of (presumably) expletives in her native tongue, Lexa scrambles off Clarke to scoop up the clothes strewn across the deck. She pulls on her tank top, yanks the shorts up her legs, and has just enough time to arrange herself into a casual pose beside Clarke before the other boat reaches them. The occupants are obnoxiously young; late teens or early twenties, as far as Clarke can tell from a distance; a bunch of bikini-clad girls and lanky guys in board shorts hanging off one another as music blasts.

She sighs inwardly. Grits her teeth and refrains from giving them the middle finger while they whoop and cheer in passing, beer bottles held aloft as they thunder towards the wooden jetty.

So much for the sexy beach idyll. Clearly, not everyone has such reverence for the tranquility of this spot.

“Shall we stay a while or…?” Clarke hedges.

Lexa purses her lips and casts her stormy gaze around, jaw working side to side in rotation, but a gentle touch on her leg pulls her focus back to Clarke.

Consternation softens into regret.

“You didn’t even get a chance to swim or feel the sand between your toes.”

“I’ll cope. Besides…” Clarke wets her lips and drops into a huskier register. “It wasn’t a total bust.”

Lexa’s mouth twitches, clearly fighting a smile, and to Clarke that’s a win.

“Come on, don’t let these pesky teens ruin our hot date,” she continues in a playful tone. “I bet you have a few aces up your sleeve; other favourite haunts to wow the ladies with.”

One shoulder lifts in a slight shrug. “We do have the boat for the rest of the day. I could take you somewhere else. For lunch, if you’re hungry yet?”

Clarke gives a noncommittal hum, lightly trailing her wet fingers along the soft skin of Lexa’s inner thigh. “I could eat.”

The suggestive undertone isn’t lost in translation. Their eyes meet and Clarke dares to make it explicit.

“But lunch wasn’t what I had in mind… unless we’re counting pussy as a food group.”

Lexa loses the battle against keeping her smile under control. The tips of her ears are tinged pink. “Are Americans always so forward?”

“Um, I don’t recall any shyness on your part two nights ago.”

Dainty little ears burn brightly while Lexa’s smile grows, becoming toothier, and Clarke just wants to smooch that perfect face all day long.

“Anyway, I prefer the term ‘go-getter.’ As in, I see someone I want and I go get her.”

A pained groan. “I should leave you stranded on the beach for that.”

“Hey!” Clarke swats at Lexa’s knee in retaliation, but Lexa catches her hand, holding it captive. Clarke sniffs for dramatic effect. “I was going to let you strip me out of this bathing suit later, but now I’m strongly reconsidering.”

“If it helps sway your decision, I’d definitely appreciate seeing you naked again.”

“And how would you show your gratitude?”

“Mm. At least three times, and maybe twice more with the strap if you’re into toys.”

God.

“Okay. Alright. Well, lucky for you, I’m kind of dying for you to fuck me so I guess that clinches it.”

It’s about as far from playing it cool as could be, but Clarke doesn’t care. The truth is she’s soaked, aching for relief, and she isn’t picky about whichever method Lexa might use to get her off, as long as it happens soon.

Eyes flashing dark, Lexa cups a hand behind Clarke’s neck and pulls her mouth to hers. Clarke reacts without thought, already opening up to accept the slide of Lexa’s tongue before her brain catches up and she remembers they’re not alone.

Cracking an eye open, she’s relieved to see nobody on the other boat appears to be paying them any attention. She attempts to evade the next kiss, only for Lexa to pursue it more doggedly, and that makes Clarke smile even as she lays a palm on Lexa’s chest to gently hold off her advance. The mini pout on Lexa’s face when they pull apart is a treat, and Clarke can’t conceal her enjoyment of it. Unable to resist the lure, she steals one final peck.

For a few indulgent seconds, she luxuriates in the softness of Lexa’s full bottom lip, until it dawns on her that an hour-long return journey stands between them and more orgasms, and she sighs.

“Why isn’t teleportation a real thing yet? Having to wait a full 60 minutes to get you under me is so unfair.”

Slowly, with the greatest delicacy and patience, Lexa brushes their noses together, one side then the other, nudging the tip before she withdraws. Despite the sun beating down on her back, it gives Clarke chills, shivers running down her neck and arms. For the duration she just holds still and melts while her stomach flips, and the butterflies that had lain dormant return in full force.

When she opens her eyes, she’s greeted by the slight, sloping smile on Lexa’s lips and her stomach does another somersault.

“I’m starting to think you’re only interested in me for sex,” Lexa says lightly.

Clarke lets out a small scoff. “You’re the one with a one-track mind. I was minding my own business, soaking up the rays, until you pounced.”

“Can you blame me?”

Lexa’s heated stare roves over several inches of cleavage before she forcibly drags her eyes back up.

“Actually… I have a confession to make.” She draws that plush bottom lip, still slightly swollen and red from kissing, between her teeth. “I dropped a tray of drinks at work yesterday because I had a flashback to you sitting on my face. Anya yelled at me and I didn’t even give a fuck that she deducted it from my tips.”

Heat rises in Clarke’s cheeks, triggered by her own vivid recollection of events. She won’t forget it in a hurry and she’s flattered to hear it was just as memorable for Lexa too. But also, it feels like a point of pride that she made Lexa’s cool girl veneer slip, even if she wasn’t there to witness it in person.

“Now I feel partly responsible for this tragic loss of earnings and broken glassware.”

“I said you were trouble.”

They inch closer, eyes glued to lips, their breath hot on one another’s faces.

“How can I make it up to you?” Clarke asks.

“I have some ideas.”

Her mind can’t help going to the aforementioned strap.

All smiles, they surrender to the magnetic pull. The world around them recedes. There’s only Lexa’s mouth on hers, soft yet urgent, and the tingles that erupt all over, Clarke’s pulse accelerating when long fingers thread into her hair again.

And it’s sublime.

Close to perfection.

She can almost hear the swell of imaginary violins soundtracking the moment—until a smattering of shrill wolf whistles pierces through the bliss.

The kiss breaks on a huff of shared, quiet laughter. Clarke’s eyes slide across to the jetty, where they’re being enthusiastically toasted by their neighbours. She groans and drops her forehead to Lexa’s shoulder, breathing in the saltwater, sun-warmed scent of her before showing her face again.

“I believe that’s our cue to leave,” Clarke says.

The long, lidded look Lexa favours her with, eyes shaded darker by desire and the hint of some deeper emotion that feels altogether too big, too soon to acknowledge, has Clarke battling the urge to launch herself at Lexa’s lips again, regardless of the unwanted spectators nearby.

“Keep that up, Lex, and they might really have something to holler about—and possibly livestream on the internet.”

A faint smile reappears. “What am I doing, Clarke?”

“Looking. Giving me those” - she gestures vaguely - “eyes.”

It loosens a small laugh. Lexa lowers her gaze and Clarke regrets mentioning it now, because it feels like the sun momentarily disappearing behind the clouds when Lexa’s thrilling, singular focus isn’t on her.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Lexa looks up, and the restored eye contact makes Clarke’s blood pump faster.

She lets out the breath she was holding. “Maybe I like it more than I should, considering.”

“Considering…?”

“I won’t be here next week.”

Pragmatic; matter-of-fact. A reality check and a casual reminder they both need to hear before they throw themselves headlong into… whatever this thing is between them: it has an expiration date.

In the lull, Lexa scans every millimetre of Clarke’s face and she hopes the nerves don’t show through the front she’s putting on.

After a moment, the corner of Lexa’s mouth lifts into a smirk, but it seems slightly forced. Her eyes are more pebbly, neutral grey than green. “Then let’s make sure you have good memories to take home with you.”

#vacation au #cool for the summer #clexa fic #my fic

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deathsimage · 1 year

Text

Helping Hands

Content: established relationship with Price, soft dom Price, sub reader

Warnings: pure smut, fingering, afab reader, Daddy kink, squirting, spit, slight degradation kink, tit fucking

Description: He wants to watch you fuck yourself on a fake dick but he’s already got you worked up so much, and you’re so small and tight you can’t handle doing it yourself

Note: not proofread, didn’t feel like it. I’m about to fall asleep as we speak but I want this posted because it’s been sitting in my notes for almost a month

———

Looking up from the floor, on your knees, hovering over the transparent purple dildo that was placed on the floor beneath your cunt, you looked up to your captain who was sitting comfortably in a chair in front of you. Your body is practically shaking as you try to press the tip of the dildo into your pussy, biting your lip as you whimpered. Watching his ocean eyes burn holes in your flesh as he stared at your naked body, waiting for your needy cunt to swallow the purple cock.

He had already gotten you worked up, driving you both home from a short day at the office, letting you sit in his lap in the office, gripping your hip with one hand as you were grinding on his thigh, feeling the pressure between both of your jeans.

“Needy little girl..can’t go one day without begging for daddy to fuck you, hm?” He playfully slapped your thigh. “Let’s go home, I’m done here for today. Plus I have some plans for you when we get home.” Price smirked, making you get up off of him with your whines as protest. Once you were in the car, he was rubbing your pussy through your jeans, but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of even going inside your jeans and over your panties..no, he was going to tease the hell out of you until you got home.

(back at home)

“I can’t- daddy please, I need you to do it for me- I can’t-“ you whimpered and panted, your cunt too tight from the edging to let the toy inside of you on your own.

“Yes you can princess, you can do it. Do it for daddy.” Price leaned forward in his chair to coach you through it.

Now you were starting to cry “John I cant- I need you”

His eyes soften as he gets up “it’s okay princess, daddy will take care of you”

He could never bring himself to make you do more than you felt like you could, and he was never disappointed when something didn’t go as planned, because he loved taking care of you, his little girl.

He proceeds to lay you on your back after moving the dildo aside, knelt in front of you, still in his office work clothes. Pushing your thighs back so your knees bent over his shoulders, he slid a finger between your wet folds, listening to you whine was pure ecstasy to him. Knowing that he, and only he, made you feel so good and make those beautiful sounds made him feel like a god. “Good girl, spread your legs for daddy.” He spoke low and soft, sliding a finger inside of your cunt, feeling your walls spasm around his single digit at the feeling of finally being touched, skin on skin, finally being entered. Letting out a small scream as you felt the intrusion of his finger, he leaned down to kiss you, whispering “shh” against your lips as he began to pump his finger in and out of your clenching cunt. Feeling you finally loosen up from the sensation of finally having something inside of you, he entered a second finger, leaning back up and watching you arch your back off of the floor. His other hand came down to lay on your abdomen, his thumb finding it’s way to your clit.

Now Price fingering you mercilessly at a quick pace, spreading your walls with his two thick digits, and playing with your clit with his calloused thumb, you’re squirming and sobbing against the floor, but the hand he has against your abdomen to play with your clit is keeping you pressed down in place. Babbling complete nonsense of “please”, “daddy”, and “John”, you begin to quickly reach your climax, trying desperately to hump his hand(s) as he you’re practically drooling, face messy with spit, sweat, and tears as you accidentally squirt when you cum. Screaming out his name as your legs spasm through your orgasm, you finally realize what the new sensation is. You just pissed on your captain…you’re so embarrassed, your hands coming up to cover your face as you start apologizing, but he just smiles, although you can’t see at that point. You feel him shift, and this makes you feel worse, but now you feel his wet hands hook into the bend of your hips, and soon the roughness of his beard and mustache against your swollen cunt, his warm tongue raking up between your folds causing you to spasm in overstimulation, your hands moving to look down at his face between your legs, stuffed in your cunt as he licks your pussy clean. Leaning back up, he licks his lips, his beard smeared with your juices as he smiled.

“Such a good girl for me.”

You’re so worn out he immediately goes into aftercare, leaning down to pick you up out of the floor but your hand shoots down to try to grab his cock “but you need to cum..”

“It’s alright love, I can handle that later.”

“But I want to take care of you..”

Sitting in thought, he looks at your tits and lays you back down on the floor before he stands up to take his clothes off finally. Kneeling down and straddling your torso, he looks down at you in pure adoration before spitting between your tits, “my pretty slut..” he smirks with a growl before grabbing your hair to pull your head up and make you kiss the head of his cock before letting you lay back again. Pumping his cock a few times, you pressed your tits together around his cock before he leaned forward, pressing the palms of his hands against the floor above you as he begins to thrust his hips slowly, sliding his cock between your spit covered tits. Reaching back to the chair behind him, he grabbed a pillow to prop underneath your head; in thanks you stuck your tongue out to lick at his head every time his cock slid up between your tits.

“Such a pretty girl..covered in daddy’s spit” Price gritted his teeth as he looked down at you. Just the sight of you beneath him, fucked dumb and being used for his personal cock sleeve made his chest tighten. “Fuck, such a pretty little slut. My pretty girl.” Random words of ownership and praise poured from his lips like rain, making you squeeze your thighs together as he continued to use your tits, getting closer to his end by the second. His breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling with each thrust of his cock against your chest, his words stopped pouring, now only forming grunts and moans as his cock and hips twitched. Moving up away from your tits, he was now straddling your face, sinking his cock between your lips into your mouth, trusting against your tongue as he gripped your hair in his hand, letting out a strained grunt as he came down the back of your throat, causing you to choke a bit, gagging and coughing as he slid his cock from between your lips, a bit of his cum trailing after him and spreading down your chin. When you stopped coughing and managed to swallow his cum, Price leaned in to lick his cum from your chin and bottom lip, plunging his tongue into your mouth as he kissed you hungrily, both of you still breathing heavily as he pulled back from you. Looking over you to make sure everything was the way it was supposed to be, he leaned his forehead against yours, whispering a soft “I love you (y/n)..now let’s go get a bath.”

#john price smut #john price imagines #captain john price smut #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price call of duty #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain price smut #captain price

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jeystattoos · 8 months

Text

Lady of Neptune - Jey Uso x Reader

Jey Uso x Black Reader!

Word Count: 1538

18+

"No, cause I need you baby. When I fuck you all the ways that you want it, don't ever leave me baby."

August 22nd was practically a national holiday. You treated it as such. It was the day that your beloved boyfriend Jey Uso, and his twin Jimmy Uso were born. It was no secret that the Fatu family was compiled with some of the most beautiful humans to ever grace the Earth.

Jey truly didn’t age, he aged backwards. He didn’t look a day over 27, his skin was supple and soft. His body was like a living masterpiece; he was running out of skin to cover with his tribal tattoos. Sometimes you enjoyed tracing every single intricate detail with your tongue, using it to drive Jey absolutely insane.

You’d been sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He’d spent half the day with his twin, and you enjoyed watching the shenanigans they’d gotten into throughout their day. You were a bit too excited to give him his presents. Jey wasn’t a materialistic man by any means, but he did have an affinity for the nicer things in life. He busted his ass for the money he earned, so he spent it on whatever caught his eye, or yours.

He was a sneakerhead, so he was always looking for the flyest pair of Jordan’s. He also enjoyed Rolexes, so he kept a small collection of those as well. You’d secretly spied on him while he was on the phone, looking at the latest editions of the watches and sneakers. To say you’d spent a pretty penny on these luxury gifts would be an understatement. The price didn’t matter, though. You enjoyed spoiling your man with the things he loved, but you had a feeling he’d be more interested in what you’d really gotten him.

Jey was a sucker for you and every little thing you did; he couldn’t contain himself when you wore lingerie that hugged every part of your curves. He was obsessed with your body, in love with the thickness of it. Your thighs didn’t stand a chance, as they were always bitten up by your man.

You’d found a spicy new set from SavagexFenty in a deep maroon color, with a matching silk robe. The kitten heels were a nice touch, complimenting the soft makeup you’d done as well. Jey loved the way that your 4C curls fell in perfect harmony down your back, so you made sure that they were on full display for him.

The sound of the door unlocking made your heart stop. You sat up on the couch, waiting impatiently for him to step through. As Jey emerged through the door, you rose to your feet. His eyes fell over you, licking his lips as he made his way towards you. He was wearing that sexy smile. “Damn, hey baby.” He greeted you with a soft kiss on the lips. His strong hands were around your waist, holding you tight against his rock hard figure.

“Hey baby, I’m glad you’re finally home. I’ve been waiting for you.” You said with a smile, running your fingers through his dark curls. Jey’s smirk grew, as he kissed your jawline.

“Yeah? What’s up with the presents, baby girl?” He motioned towards the two boxes that were wrapped, sitting on the couch. You smiled and took him by the hand, leading him over to the couch. You handed him the big box first. “Open this one first!”

Jey looked up at you, before he ripped into the box. He pulled out the Jordan 1s, Chicago edition. They were the hardest to find, and you knew how much he wanted them. You sat in his lap, watching as his eyes twinkled with excitement. “Baby girl… how the hell did you find these?” He looked up at you, smiling from ear to ear. You smirked and kissed him softly.

“I have my ways, baby. Now, open this one.” You handed him the smaller box. Jey didn’t waste any time opening it. When he realized you’d also got him the Rolex Midas, his cheeks were full from how hard he was smiling. His happiness made your heart flutter.

“Oh my God, thank you so much baby.” Jey sat down the presents, returning his attention to you. He gave you a million little kisses. You pulled away briefly, smirking deviously at him. “There’s just one more gift,” You rose to your feet, and began to take off the robe. Jey’s eyes followed your every movement. The robe dropped to the floor, your brown body on full display in the sexiest lingerie you’d ever worn. Jey’s gaze was lustful, as his eyes flicked up to look into yours. He slowly rose from his seated position, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“God damn…” He cursed, before diving in for a hungry kiss. He kissed you aggressively, claiming your lips with his teeth. He nibbled at your bottom lip, soon slipping his tongue into your mouth. One kiss from him and you were weak in the knees. Jey scooped you up with ease, making his way towards the staircase. He marched to your bedroom, keeping the steamy kiss between the two of you going.

You heard the door shutting behind him, your back feeling the coolness from the wall that he’d pinned you against. He momentarily pulled away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m finna fuck the shit outta you, doll.” His voice was gruff, barely above a whisper.

Jey let his hands roam your body. His fingers slipped between your inner thighs, tickling your slit. Once he discovered that the lingerie set was crotchless, his eyes refocused on you. He continued to play with your slick folds, smirking down at you as he did so. You were already on the brink.

“I got your pussy drippin’ already, baby.” He taunted, as he removed his hand. He left you aching for his fingers, wanting to feel them inside of your soaking cunt. Jey ripped his jacket and shirt off in one go, his tight jeans soon following suit.

He wasted no time lining his thick cock up with your entrance, beginning to push his length inside of you. He wasn’t giving you time to adjust or prepare, but you didn’t need it. You were used to his size. You enjoyed when he behaved this way; so aggressive and dominant. It turned you on beyond belief. Once he had fully entered, he started stroking quickly. His hand held your neck in place, as he suckled on your neck, leaving hickies everywhere. You’d have to cover them up in the morning.

“You’re the only gift I need, baby.” He grunted, picking up the speed a bit. His grip around your neck tightened, leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Daddy,” You mewled, melting under his spell. Jey let out a breathy laugh, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. “What’s my name, baby?”

“D-daddy,” You purred, never looking away from his hickory eyes. He smirked, giving you a deep kiss as a reward. “Say it again.”

“Daddy!” You whine, succumbing to his incredible stroke game. He’d slowed down momentarily, using it to his advantage. As you continued to call him Daddy, he continued to tease you.

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m your Daddy,” He growled in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. He began pistoning in and out of you at an alarming rate. You couldn’t keep quiet, moaning and gasping how good he felt. He was living up to his promise, fucking you into a euphoric state.

“Hnng, mm, ngh,” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you’d been reduced to nothing but a slew of moans. Jey was in love with what he was doing to you. “Good girl. Take my dick, baby.”

Jey pulled you off the wall, wrapping both of his arms around your waist as he bounced you up and down on his cock. The squelching noises of how wet you were filled the room, along with the sounds of passion omitting from you both.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? Are you going to let Daddy destroy you?” Jey whispered, slipping his hand around your neck. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as if you were searching for your words. They’d left you a few strokes ago.

“Y-yes..” You managed to say, tightening your legs around his waist. Jey began to pound you ruthlessly, not letting up for a single second. His thumb flicked back and forth over your clit, grinning as you started to squirt a bit. Your orgasm was on the horizon. Your body felt like it was on a spiritual plane of pleasure, spasming as your orgasm claimed you. Jey didn’t stop, though. He loved to overstimulate you until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck!” You hissed, draping your body against his. Jey braced you against him, feeling you growing weaker in his arms. He slowed down, walking the two of you over to the bed. He laid you down on the mattress, pulling himself out of you. He smiled down at you, before he kneeled in front of you. You pulled yourself up to look into his eyes. “What are you doing, babe?”

Jey laughed. “I haven’t had my birthday cake yet,”

#jey uso #jey uso fanfic #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x you #jey uso smut

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lady-charinette · 2 years

Text

Yor and Loid stumble upon some articles in the morning newspaper about a lethal assassin prowling the streets of Berlint assassinating well known politicians and officials. All of them have a history of political deceit and corruption, no doubt many enemies to face, but someone paying an assassin to outright kill them?

Loid sipped his coffee. "I'm worried over these news, this assassin seems dangerous. Perhaps we should install a new lock on our door."

'An assassin that killed the minister of foreign affairs? He had guards all over his mansion and the suite he frequented, how did a lone contract killer get to him?'

Yor stirred the coffee in her cup and helped Anya cut the edges of her toast. She tensed slightly at the news before schooling her features into a picture of motherly concern. "Yes, you're right. The streets may not be safe anymore, we might have to pick Anya up from school."

'Oh no! They found out about the minister not being on vacation!! Shopkeeper assured me things were taken care of but maybe there was a leak? No, I killed everyone on the scene, it was a planned ambush, there couldn't have been any witnesses to leak this to the media-'

"Yor?" Loid rose an eyebrow curiously at the almost imperceptible stutter in Yor's hand. "Are you alright?"

'She must be worried sick about this assassin. I'll have to ask Handler to have some more spies shadow the apartment. What if it's Thorn Princesses' work? Not even our spies could stop her if she decides to come too close to us.'

Yor's lower lip trembled, offering Loid a shaky smile. "Y-Yes, I'm sorry it's just- I'm very worried about Anya and you. If this mysterious assassin keeps killing these...innocent people...shall I pick you up and we pick Anya up together from school? That way we'll all feel safer."

'Yes, nobody can harm my family as long as I'm with them!'

Loid smiled, giving a reassuring nod towards Anya, who appeared to be sweating. The poor girl. "Don't worry Anya, we'll make sure nothing bad happens to you."

'According to the very limited data we managed to find on Thorn Princess, she has never targeted families or children before, so that's a relief. However, if my identity were to be compromised, I'm not sure Thorn Princess will spare my family if she decides to come after me. I'll have to hide my tracks well and keep a low profile until this dies down.'

Yor dug her nails into the flesh of her thighs, internally screaming. 'What if the master spy Twilight himself gets in my way? Surely he heard the news about the minister's death, if his agency somehow finds out I was behind his death, would they go after my family? No! I can't allow that to happen! I'll make sure nothing happens to Loid and Anya, I'll ask Shopkeeper to hold off on assignments for now until things die down. Until then, I'll have to keep both Anya and Loid calm.'

The fake married couple smiled at one another, the air thick with tension as they mulled over this morning's unsettling news, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of one 4 year old esper.

Anya stared wide eyed at both her parents, her brain vibrating with their thoughts and her own rising anxiousness about the safety of her family.

'If mama and papa fought who would win?!'

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gravehags · 6 months

Text

dream (a little dream of me)

Pairing: Aether x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: somnophilia (with consent), dry humping, Copia briefly cockblocking, plus size reader, quintessence magic

Words: 1,664

Summary: It's been a long, successful day for you. Perhaps a nighttime visit from a certain Quintessence ghoul will be the cherry on top.

a/n: Hooray for the first fun thing I've written in like a whole ass month jfc!! Once again, a concept that came to me in a dream. A Satanic portent if you will. I am the pythia of the Ghost ministry. All my cirrus x aether x reader lovers...i hope you enjoy that ending lmao

~~~

You don’t remember the last time you were this tired.

You’re already stripping as you push the door to your quarters open, dropping garments on the floor. Making your way into the room, you groan as you remove your bra and fling it somewhere where you think it knocks something over but you’re too exhausted to care. Leaning against the wall you unlace your boots and shimmy out of your trousers and underwear until you’re standing in the middle of the room stark naked and staring lovingly at your bed. You know you should shower, should remove your makeup at the very least but the soft covers of your duvet and fluffy pillows call to you like a siren’s song. Sathanas, what a day. You spent most of it cleaning the chapels and attending Papa Copia at mass, your most favorite task. Your devotion to the Olde One ran true, and attending services always moved you deeply whether you were participating or merely a devout spectator. Vaguely you recall something about Aether texting you earlier in the day, asking you to check in with him when you got back to your room so you fumble around in the pockets of your discarded pants for your phone.

I’m here, very sleepy. Coming over?

You think of the towering form of the ghoul, the way his strong arms encircle you when you bury your face into his chest. The rumble of purrs that come out of him when you rub your hands along his broad back. The sounds you can tease out of him when he’s at his most vulnerable, large hands gripping at your hips and his wonderfully thick cock pulsing inside you. Your lips curl up in a soft grin as you await his response, a rush of warmth spreading from your belly to the apex of your thighs. Before it can truly grow into anything more, your brain reminds you how exhausted you are and you feel the edges of your vision start to blur with the need for sleep. You hesitate only a moment before typing out an additional text.

Gonna go to bed. If you want me you can have me…

He responds right away and you nearly laugh at his eagerness.

On my way over right now

Walking over to your bed with a smile, you plug in your phone to the charger, fling back the covers and crawl in, sighing deeply when your head hits the pillows. The cool sheets and comforting weight of your blankets immediately sets you at ease and before you know it, your heavy eyelids shut and you drift off to sleep.

Twenty minutes have passed since you sent Aether the suggestive text and he is finally at your room after being waylaid by Copia in the hall who, in his peculiar way, began complimenting you and your devotion during the service that day. The conversation went on for far longer than Aether wanted, but finally Copia let him go with a wink and a little elbow-shove about how you’re probably waiting for him. Aether tried not to look too eager when he walked away from Papa, but Copia looked at his retreating back with a suggestive eyebrow waggle all the same. When he opens your door, he’s met with dim lighting and nearly trips on your discarded items of clothing strewn in a trail from the entryway. He smiles fondly when he spies you, bundled up in your blanket and softly snoring, and he immediately begins to strip. When he’s fully nude, he slips in beside you, groaning at the cocoon of warmth you’ve created. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you flush against him, a purr rumbling in his chest when your naked flesh meets his. He gently leans in and nuzzles your hair: you smell like the incense Papa uses in his masses and the unique, sweet, intoxicating scent he’s come to know as you. Unconsciously, his hips shift forward and his half-hard cock brushes against the curve of your ass. You’re so kind, so good to him, always giving and loving. He thinks about the text you sent earlier and a flood of warmth begins to rush through his veins.

If you want me you can have me

He can’t lie, he’s often thought about having you like this. Fucking against you or into you as you sleep, watching you shift and moan even through the haze of slumber. Slowly, he slides one of his large hands up your side, squeezing the meat of your hip briefly before moving over your belly and up to your breasts. When he cups one, thumb brushing over the nipple, you make a small noise in your sleep and shift your hips backwards against him, causing him to groan. He lowers his lips to your shoulder and begins mouthing at the warm skin there, tongue tracing up the curve of your neck as he gently pinches your now hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His cock, now profusely leaking precum onto your skin, ruts against you slowly, every roll of his hips in sync with the movement of his mouth on your flesh. He pulls you closer, if that’s even possible, and with steady, firm movements begins to fuck himself against you. His breath stirs the hairs strewn around the side of your face and his hand abandons your breast to grip at your hip.

“So good for me, even in sleep,” he growls lowly, face buried in your neck. “So fucking soft.”

You’re providing so much pleasure for him, he thinks, but receiving none in return. That simply won’t do. With his hand wrapping around your body to cup the curve of your belly he concentrates his quintessence on your sweet cunt, making you feel the presence of his cock within you even as he ruts against you. He’s sure he’s woken you from your slumber when you let out a long, low moan but your eyes remain shut even as your breathing becomes unsteady. With every thrust, every drag of his cock along your skin he imagines being inside you, stretching you just how you like, the way you clench so tightly around him. He visualizes hitting that glorious sweet spot within you and when he slides his hand down to the juncture of your thighs, he moans loudly when he finds you sopping wet. Even as his phantom cock thrusts inside of you, he toys with your swollen clit, making you whimper and your eyes dart around behind your eyelids. Your breathing comes out in soft pants punctuated with beautiful little mewls as he presses his forehead to the back of your head, concentrating on your softness as his hips begin to jerk forward with more fervor.

“Fuck, my love,” he groans, fingers sliding through your slick to rub at you, “fuck, you’re perfect. So perfect just - ah! - just for me. My sweet girl.”

He imagines how you must feel, mind drifting through subconscious thoughts even as you’re filled with the stretch of him. He wonders what you dream of, if it’s of him. His thrusts become shorter and faster as you tip your head back against him, mouth hanging open. With a gasp, you moan one word with your back arching, hips bucking into his touch.

“Aether!”

It’s all he needs to drive him over the edge and suddenly he’s coming, hard, all over your ass and lower back. He barely notices that you’re stirring, cheeks flushed and eyes blearily looking at your surroundings as he fucks himself into overstimulation against you. He only stops when your hand shifts behind you and grabs at his hips, stilling him. Sweat slides down his forehead as his seed cools on your skin and you hold him flush against you.

“I’m sorry,” he pants quietly, hoarsely, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Mmmm don’t be,” you say sleepily, pushing your own hips back to brush against his softening cock. “That was gorgeous.”

He smiles against your hair and tells you not to move as he gets out of bed and heads to your small bathroom. After a moment he returns with a warm, damp washcloth and tends to the mess he’s left on your skin. Half of it has slid off you and onto the sheets - a problem for tomorrow.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he discards the cloth in your hamper. Reaching out, you make a needy grabby hand gesture, beckoning him back to bed. When he slides back in alongside you, you roll over to face him.

“How’d you do that?” you say with a yawn, sleep clearly falling upon you once more.

“Hmm?”

“How were you inside me while…not being inside me? That was…wow.”

“Ah,” he says, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, “quintessence magic.”

You waggle your eyebrows suggestively and reach up to stroke the base of his horn while his tail pulls you closer under the covers until you’re nestled against his chest.

“Felt amazing,” you whisper, fingers carding through his chest hair, “like being fucked on a cloud. You were so close but still far away. Weird feeling.”

“But you liked it?” Aether asks, looking down on you with your brow furrowed.

“Mmm fuck yes.”

“You’re not upset with me?”

“Love, the only thing I’m upset about is you not using that magic earlier. You were holding out on me.”

Your eyes are shut but your lips are curled into a mischievous smile and he strokes your hair.

“I’ve got all kinds of tricks up my sleeve. Maybe Cirrus and I will show you…”

You make one last noise - a mix of intrigue and contentment - before sleep overtakes you once more. Aether holds you close, the spade of his tail drifting up and down your leg under the covers.

Before his own eyes slide shut, he reminds himself to thank Papa for including you in his mass today. Maybe he could tire you out more often.

#aether ghoul #aether ghoul x reader #aether ghoul x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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daddy-suguru · 2 years

Note

Hii can I request a 68 (kneel) + 43 (did i tell you to touch) nanami kento or loid forger

how about both separately?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ▸ nsfw, dom!kento, sub!reader, throat fucking, kento steps on your hands with his shoe, praise, use of sir, belt around throat, choking, loid jerks off in front of you, jealous!loid

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

Pointing at the ground in front of him, “Kneel.” You keep your hands behind your back as you get on your knees and look up at him. As he grabs his cock and lightly strokes it while you stick your tongue out. Which encourages Kento to hit the tip of his cock on your tongue.

Kento tells you, "You're going to sit there and let me fuck your throat understood?" He has his hand on the top of your head as he pushes his cock past your lips. Which you wrap around him as you hallow yoru cheeks. While you keep your eyes on his.

"Don't break eye contact with me. I want to see your eyes tear up as I choke you with my cock." You whine as your pussy throbs at his words. The vibrations go to his balls which hit your chin when he jerks his hips forward.

The way your throat tightens around his throat when you gag as Kento groans. You love the way he is watching your pretty lips are taking his lips. As he slowly pulls his hips away, letting you get a breath before he thrusts his cock back into your throat. As he groans,

"Your mouth looks so hot taking my cock like this." The pace he sets is quick not giving you time to breathe anymore as he chases his own pleasure. And the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes he smiles as he asks,

"Is my baby girl going to cry from having her throat fucked?" You can't answer as he doesn't slow his pace down. So you reach between your legs and before you can really touch yourself Kento asks,

"Did I tell you to touch yourself?" Still half-dressed in his work clothes, Kento has his shoes on so when you place your hands out in front of you and he steps on them to make sure you don't mess up again. He is mindful not to press down too hard.

Kento pulls his cock out of your mouth and as you are trying to catch your breath he tells you, "Is this what I have to do to make sure you behave? Since you keep forgetting yourself I should tie you up."

𝐋𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫

The moment the two of you enter the room Loid points to the bed and tells you, "Kneel." His voice is cold and his face emotionless underneath the mask he tears off his face so he wouldn't be picked up by the cameras.

You quickly kneel by the side of the bed. And you look up at Loid smiling as you ask him, "Are you watching to mess up my make-up? You wouldn't risk keeping those two pictures of my messy face if you didn't." He hated how irrational you made him act.

This whole thing between him and you is nothing but irrational. The two of you are only supposed to be spies who are occasionally sent on missions together, nothing more. But he is unzipping his pants and pulling his belt off, Loid loops around your throat. And he holds onto the long string of it.

The pressure on your throat isn't enough to stop you from breathing completely. But it's enough that you will end up lighted and hazy as Loid does what he wants with you. In a breathy voice, you slowly say,

"Please talk to me Sir." He tugs on the belt and you let out a gasp that sounds more like a wheeze. As he holds his cock out and he spits on himself twice. Which he smears, over his cock and you reach out to help him when he asks,

"Did I tell you to touch?" His mind keeps going back to the mission the two of you just finished. The two of you completed it successfully but it was how you behaved during it that Loid can't get over.

Loid slides his hand down his cock to the base where his short blonde hair is. And back up to his tip. Before he decides to keep his hand still so he can fuck his fist instead. And your eyes drift down to Loid's heavy and thick balls that smack against his thighs when he pulls his hips back.

You want to suck on his balls and cock so badly. You want to make him moan the way he isn't making himself with just his fist. You want to see his cheeks flush while he messes up his neat slicked blond hair. So you look up at Loid pleadingly as his blank expression starts to break. His eyebrows furrow and he tells you,

"Don't ever flirt with another man for a mission in front of me again. For that your are going to watch me jerk myself off until I cum on your face. Then I'm going to put you up against the wall and give both of your cheeks five hits with my belt for pressing yourself on another man." He knew you weren't interested in the man but he didn't care, the irrational jealousy even though you are sleeping with him is driving Loid's actions. Even as he questions himself why he feels this way about you.

▸m.list

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b00kdiary · 1 year

Text

An Old Flame (Part III)

Aemond Targaryen X Targaryen reader

Where two old flames meet again after 6 years and now as grown adults, their desires and feelings are in conflict with the civil war brewing within their families.

Warnings: Long chapters! Contains swearing, violence and smut ( mature content 18+)

Masterlist (Aemond Targaryen)

"You and Prince Aemond did what??”

I winced at the shriek that escaped Lyanna, slapping her gently in warning as my eyes scanned left and right through the gardens to ensure no spies lingered.

“Ly, god above do you want to say that any louder?” I hissed, shaking my head at the girl, but she merely laughed, utter bafflement at what I just told her present on her face.

Lyanna was my best friend growing up in Kings Landing, her mother served mine as a lady in waiting and thus, we grew up as thick as thieves, even keeping in contact when I’d left for Dragonstone. As soon as I arrived back I sent her a letter, formally asking her to be my lady in waiting.

“I’m sorry Y/N” She giggled, throwing a hay blonde braid over her scrawny shoulder “But you just told me that you and your uncle, THE Prince Aemond, had a very intimate night together last week, and you expect me to what… nod like a lady?” She deadpanned, her sea blue eyes narrowing as she beheld my snort.

“No not a lady but I hardly anticipated you squealing like a pig” I jabbed, though she merely rolled her eyes in response. “And do you have to specify that he is my uncle?” I groan, eyes shuttering in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion.

“Hey, I’m not judging you” She calls, laying a soft creamy hand against my thigh “The House of the dragon is not the only family to marry within their own bloodlines- there’s a reason it’s still something that happens today.”

She was trying to be comforting, but all I could hear echoing in my ears was that word.

Marry.

“I’m not going to marry Prince Aemond” I lament, shaking my head as a thumb presses against my brow.

“You don’t want to or you think it could never happen?” Ly asks, her red simple cotton dress bunching as she crosses a leg over the other, readjusting her skirt. I sit up, straightening my back, my own hands fiddling with my purple gown, my finger picking at the dark embroidery.

“Our families despise each other, no matter how much they fake civility. Gods, Luke took Aemond’s eye!” I exclaim, sighing at the crazy familial dynamics and even Lyanna winces at that very big calamity.

“And even if by some miracle my brothers didn’t hate Aemond and he didn’t hate them and our families did not want to tear each other’s throats out every chance they got… I don’t know if what this is, what we are, whether marriage is even in the realm of possibility.” I frown, frustration filling me at the complicated situation I’d unwittingly let my lust lead me into.

“You don’t think he wants to marry you?” Lyanna asks, too softly, that weary kindness etched onto her lovely face. I laugh bitterly, quickly standing as I notice a group of ladies meandering closer to where we sat. Lyanna swiftly joined me and I clasped her at the elbow, ignoring her warning glance at it.

I knew she would scold me later, yet again claiming that a Princess should not be so benevolent and close with her lady-in-waiting.

I hated all that hierarchy nonsense.

“It’s been four days” I grit out, scowling as we walk “Four days since he bid me goodnight with a kiss, a kiss so tender I thought I’d pass out as I left his chamber and then… nothing! Nothing besides the most cordial of greetings and the occasional glance at dinner or as we cross paths around the Keep.”

“Is he ignoring you? Or is he trying to be inconspicuous… to not let either of you be caught up in your attraction and be too obvious in court?” Lyanna suggests, her thumb soothing my wrist to ease the scowl now seemingly permanently marred against my face.

“He can be inconspicuous all he so bloody desires, I’m not asking for a declaration of love, the least he could do is acknowledge what happened, I’m starting to think I’d imagined it” I muttered bitterly, my eyes darting to and from the flowers adorning the side of the walkway.

But I knew it wasn’t a dream.

Not from the ache that sat between my thighs when I’d woken the next day and certainly not from the way my lips and neck had been scattered in light bruises from the passion of his kisses.

“Y/N if you’re going to start fantasising about that night in the middle of the damn garden, please let me escort you to your chambers to spare everyone the torture of that disgustingly ravenous look on your face” Lyanna pleaded, her tone mocking as she laughed. I slapped her away, a laugh breaking my facade of irritation even as I truly did feel myself relax.

“Come, let us not talk of silly boys any further” Ly smiles, rocking as she pulled me to enter the Keep. I nodded, a smile beaming across my own face as I resolved to ignore the situation.

If Aemond didnt care, then nor did I.

***

We leisurely made our way through the Keep, our laughter and chatter echoing through the empty halls and suddenly, it felt as if I’d never left, as if we’d never grown up, still 9 years old and wreaking havoc on the place.

“And what of you?” I ask, wiggling my brows as she grimaced, pushing me away “Come on, Ly- I’ve told you every gaudy, embarrassing minute detail of my romantic life, now it is your turn!” I giggle as she rolls her eyes, a faint blush heating up her neck and cheeks.

“There is little to tell,” She says but quietly sighs in defeat at the determination on my face “There was a boy, well man I guess now, a while ago. He worked as an apprentice for the blacksmiths. Back when I’d worked at the bakery I’d deliver bread and pastries to his master and well, I suppose we became rather close.”

I gasped, my eyes wide at the news “You never told me this!” I accuse and she rolls her eyes, swatting impatiently to dismiss it.

“There was nothing to tell” She swears, that light fading slightly “Last year, he left Kings Landing after having completed his apprentice work, he had business of his masters a while away and would be gone for a good few years.”

“Was marriage not on the table?” I ask, quiet and soft, my hand holding hers in silent comfort. She shook her head, eyes full of sadness and what looked like regret.

“He would be gone too long and well, he was onto better things not exactly beneficial to essentially abandon all he’d worked for to marry a lowly baker's girl,” She said bitterly, shaking her head with self-resentment.

“Hey” I chided, already halting her to a stop. “You were not merely a bakers girl just as you are not now just a lady in waiting. Ly, you are incredible.” She scoffs out a laugh but I don’t relent. “Truly, you’re brave and strong, you are loyal to a fault and you work hard at what you do. No one deserves happiness and love as much as you do. And I don’t just say that as your friend.”

She sighs at my words, her eyes fogging slightly as she nods, silent appreciation lining her eyes.

“Gods” She giggles out, wiping at her eyes and pulling me along to walk, dismissing the vulnerability of the prior moment. “Who needs to hear of my soppy nonsense when your failed romantics are so much more entertaining?” She teases, poking at me as I chuckle, swatting her hand away.

“Oh please,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“No, but c’mon- The story of your first kiss?” She snorts, laughing so hard she has to stop to lean against the wall beside the servant's quarters. I glower, folding my arms as she continues. “That boy, what was his name Timothy, Tommy something- not only did you bang teeth at the first attempt but you bit his lip so hard he bled!”

She croaks from amusement, the hand on her mouth and the other on her chest as she struggles to regain her composure.

“I was 12 and not exactly an expert” I defend, chuckling as I blushed. “Oh come on Ly, It’s not that funny” I pout as her humour begins to die down, quiet giggles now flooding out.

“No, I’d have to agree with her. It is exceptionally funny, Princess.”

I freeze, my body going taut as a bow at the raspy chuckle of words that are said just beside my ear. Lyanna’s eyes widen as she halts and immediately bends into a bow, her head down muttering an earnest greeting to the Prince and I hear his soft regard back.

She looks at me as if warning me that ignoring his presence is more telling than facing him head on and I grit my teeth in bitter agreement. I turn on my heel, face passive as I see Prince Aemond, a small smile gracing my lips.

“Prince Aemond” I nod, my hands clenching as his eye beholds me, a glimmer of amusement lighting in it. He nods back, one corner of his lips quirking up as he leans against the doorframe, probably having snaked in through the servant's quarter.

His usual means of fast and undetected movement.

“That was quite the story, I have to say I’m surprised… you don’t strike me as being so clumsy with intimacy” He said casually, but the tone of his voice and that infuriating smirk indicated that he knew I wasn’t clumsy, indicating that he had experienced it first-hand.

“Well, it was my first time, Prince” I smile cordially, batting my eyelashes and I notice Lyanna cringe in acknowledgement of the ire that usually follows that look. “Fortunately for most of us, we weren’t weaned on paid whores to gain early experience from.”

The jab hits home and I nearly leer at the darkness that invades Aemond’s face, his jaw tensing and lips thinning, even as Lyanna steps forward with anxiety. The silence enveloped us for a few moments, The Prince and I were in a silent battle as his eyes held mine and despite how furious I was, my body still tightened in remembrance and yearning of what had happened the last time we’d been in such close proximity.

His eye flared and his throat bobbed as if he too was remembering the same.

I flushed at that look and took a step back, the first to break away as I tried to recompose myself. Aemond frowned slightly and reached a hand toward me.

“Princess, perhaps we could-“

“Princess Y/N!”

My head snagged at the familiar voice and I swiftly turned from a now irritated Aemond, my head looking behind me to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy a few steps behind.

“Jamie Lannister!” I gasped, a laugh of surprise escaping me as I rushed forward a few steps, damning etiquette as I enveloped the boy in a tight hug. He laughed, deep and joyous as he too wrapped his arms around my waist and held me closer.

I pulled back, grinning as I took in his face. The tanned skin, the striking sky blue of his eyes and the slightly overgrown but styled honey-blonde waves that were neatly pulled back from his face. He was larger, much more muscular and taller than he had been six years ago.

“I heard you were back and had to come to see you” He beamed as my hands fell into his and held them tightly. I pulled at his rough, large hands towards where Ly stood, a similar grin across her lips.

“Jamie, you remember Lyanna,” I said stopping before her and she bowed slightly in greeting. Jamie merely shook his head and took her hand, raising it to his lips in a poised kiss, one that had Ly blushing and stuttering in response.

“Gods, it’s been years,” I said “What are you doing here? Visiting your father?” I asked but he shook his head, hand coming down to tap at his vigil with a toothy grin.

“You’re fighting in the tournament?” Lyanna gasped, clasping her hands before her as she laughed.

“My first year entering” He nodded, a charming and amenable smile on his lips.

“That is amazing… I usually despise tourney’s but if you’re taking part Jamie, then I shall be there front and centre” I teased and he snorted, his eyes washing over my face.

“Your beauty in presence would be greatly appreciated Princess Y/N, but perhaps you could gift me further with your favour?” He asked, a slight boyish and nervous twinge as he lowered his eyes to me. I blushed slightly, the compliment washing over me.

Indeed, we were not little children anymore.

But that compliment did not ignite even a single ember of want in my body, and that disappointment laced through me, even as I remembered the certain Prince still stood in the shadows, watching.

“Hm…” I contemplated, tapping my chin jokingly as the pair laughed “Ask me at the tourney Ser and you shall have your answer then” I shrugged, winking and Jamie scoffed, chuckling deeply.

But that humour soon cut off as his eyes strained left.

“Prince Aemond” He greeted, his smile faltering slightly as he turned to bow. “My apologies, I did not see you there.” I turned and beheld the face that had Jamie, who usually always wore a smile, to become grave.

Aemond was still leaning against that doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest as he stared at me and then at Jamie. His face was contorted in what can only be described as indignation, his jaw clenched and his eye narrowing down with scrutiny as he beheld the young Lord before him.

“Ser Lannister” Aemond purred back, the welcome sending an icy chill down my back. “I did not know that you and the Princess Y/N were such close companions” He states simply, his body marginally relaxing as a wicked sort of smile graced his face.

Lyanna glanced worriedly at me.

“We’ve known each other since very young, Prince, our mother's old acquaintances. We grew up good friends, I suppose that friendship did not die down with distance” Jamie smiled, looking toward me in earnest and my heart beamed at the nostalgia.

Even as Aemond snorted, his gaze scorching against my face.

“Well, you’ll be in for quite the treat then since I know quite vividly how the Princess warms to and reconnects with her close friends” He snarks out with a perceptive smile, his eye sliding to mine “Isn’t that right, darling?”.

I stiffen at his words, at the insinuation of that night we shared, the insinuation of me being just as ‘hospitable’ to Jamie.

He was calling me a whore.

And he was using his goddamned nicknames from the bedchambers to pour salt in the wound.

I seethed, even as Jamie looked towards me in confusion. I stepped forward, ready to slam his insufferable face into the concrete walls, but Lyanna was swiftly by my side, a hand subtly gripping my arm, her nails digging into the flesh to snap me out of the red that blurred my vision.

Aemond smirked, pushing off the doorframe and unfolding his long yet muscular arms. He nodded once to Jamie, who bowed back, still weary at what had just occurred before Aemond looked to me, his expression severe and unforgiving.

I held back my urge to spit at him as I raised a brow instead, though he merely stared, hard and unmoving, before stalking away, his feet ever silent on the ground.

We all stood there for a few moments after he left, my blood boiling with ire and confusion at what the fuck he just said and did.

He ignores me for four days and then attacks me with insults?

Bastard.

Utter bastard.

Lyanna tugs on my hand and I snap back to reality, biting back the fury coating me. I sigh, gathering myself before I turn to Jamie, an easy and faux grin on my face.

“Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

***

“This is why I hate tourney’s so much” I seethed quietly, scowling as I looked towards Ly, who stood frowning beside me.

“Ignore them” She mumbled back, her eyes not meeting mine as she stood, hands clasped and back straight. “They want a reaction.”

Indeed, the endless Lords and Ladies that relentlessly stared and gossiped as they watched me, occasionally laughing or smirking when they caught my attention were clearly desperate for the bastard Princess to lose her shit.

And honestly, I was close to it.

“Princess Y/N, I am glad that you could join us for the event, particularly as our guest of honour” Queen Alicent called softly, a mother's smile on her face as she gazed from beside me on her throne.

Guest of honour- a bawdy and supercilious title that just meant being gawked at and paraded about like some kind of exotic creature.

“Of course, my Queen, it is an honour to have been chosen” I smile, holding back my retort that I would not be a ‘guest’ in my own home had she not lost her mind and attacked my mother six years ago.

“Are you supporting anyone in particular?” The Queen asked, a teasing grin on her face “Any male here that has caught your eye?” I blush at the remark, surprised by her forwardness but I merely shake my head in reply.

“No, not like that. I am here to see Ser Jamie Lannister, it’s his first tournament and we grew up very close” I say, my eyes glancing to where the boy stood, armour on, besides his black mount. “And you, my Queen? I didn’t suppose this your kind of sport.”

She shakes her head reverently with a small laugh “No, I can scarcely handle all the violence and banging” She states grimacing, before looking to me with a genuine smile “But Aemond is joining for the first time and I wanted to watch in support”

“What?” I gasp and her eyes flash to mine in surprise at my outburst. I blanche, clearing my throat before asking again, much quieter and genial “I thought the prince hated tourneys, why would he join this one?”

“You’re guess would be as good as mine, Princess Y/N. He merely came to me a few hours ago with the news that he was struck with the desire to participate and I was more than willing to indulge him.” I nod absently as she speaks, and when she turns to Ser Criston, my eyes snap widely to Lyanna.

She frowns, that knowing and worried expression marring her face too.

Gods Aemond, please don’t do something reckless and stupid.

***

The tourney was hectic.

Lord after Lord, Ser after Ser jousted, running at each other astride their horses before one would stab the other with the pointy end of the stick.

It was tedious as it was addictive.

Jamie was doing well, spectacularly well in fact.

I roared out a cheer, relief lining every inch of my body as his lance pierced the opposing Lord's shoulder. I winced as that Lord flung off his horse, his body rolling and bucking against the sandy ground as his horse fled away.

Jamie Lannister, in all his kindness and civility, climbed off his horse and helped his opponent up. The two shared a respectful handshake before the Lord was limping away and the crowds began cheering and chanting for Jamie.

I grinned, clapping my hands so hard they burned as he bowed and then returned to his tent, to prepare for his next match.

He had made it to the final.

And so had Aemond.

My heart had stopped when Aemond had first come out onto the ground.

He wore completely black leather with his shining black chest plate adorned with his greenhouse vigil, sculpted perfectly against the broad expanses of his body. His hair had been braided back, loose and away from his face, starkly highlighting the boredom and disinterest there.

It was obvious he did not want to be here.

But he jousted like he was made for it.

Skilled, deadly and precise as he mounted his horse, foregoing any helmet to not obscure the vision of his one good eye. My heart hammered in my chest, my fear and anxiety making me feel like vomiting every time he would grab his lance to begin.

But every time he would prove that I needn't worry.

He’d charge low and fast, his body like death incarnate as he’d angle his lance, perfectly still and poised, right into the opposing man’s vulnerable points. Blood would ooze and bodies would fall and despite myself, I’d nearly cry with relief, my hands clapping along with the roars of the crowds.

I wrung my hands anxiously as the bell rang and the crowds began to mumble, their noises and speculation an incessant buzzing that set my teeth on edge. Lyanna hands me a cup of wine, her hand giving mine a reassuring tap and I smile gratefully, drowning back the contents in one full gulp.

Aemond and Jamie begin their descent to the centre of the grounds on their horses, silence enveloping the grounds as they stoically beheld one another.

Jamie looked passive, ready.

Aemond looked feral and challenging.

The two men stopped before the terrace and bowed to their Queen. I inhaled and exhaled in uneven puffs as I met Aemond’s eye. He frowned upon seeing the anxiety and tension on my face and I wished that I could tell him to not hurt Jamie like I knew he wished to and to not get himself hurt by being reckless.

I start as Jamie overshadows Aemond, his face directly in my line of sight, a huge grin spread across his handsome face. I smile, leaning forward, already knowing what he would ask.

“Princess Y/N” He called, and the masses hushed as they watched him stop beside the edge of the seats “ Would you do me the great honour of bestowing upon me your favour?” He asked and I chuckled at his faux innocence.

I stood as I grabbed the wreath from Ly and walked over to the barriers. With a gentle smile and steady hand, I lowered it onto Jamie’s lance and laughed as he bowed his head deeply, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The crowds applauded and whistled loudly as I returned to my seat but my eyes remained on Prince Aemond, remained glued on the jealousy and anger that fuelled him now. He didn’t so much as smile as he trotted away to his corner, that lethal calm oozing from him.

I rubbed at my face, ire filling me as I tucked back the loose strands of hair that fell into my face. My body was on edge and my throat tightened as I keenly watched them raise their lances and as the bell rang, they charged.

I had wondered before who I wanted to win, whose injury would hurt me more- and had settled on both of them being of equal importance to me.

And yet, as Jamie’s lance tilted and aimed directly for a spot that would not only strike Aemond but that could seriously injure him, that could kill him.

I knew my answer.

“Aemond!” I cried out, my hands cupping onto my mouth as indeed, Jamie’s lance punctured straight through the steel of his armour into his shoulder and the Prince was thrown violently off his horse, landing on his back with a deafening thud.

I gasped, barely feeling the supportive hold of Lyanna as time seemed to slow down and darken. Aemond lay there for a moment, hand clutching his shoulder and blood soaking into the orange sand.

“Oh gods, please” I begged, tears welling in my eyes as he remained down and I could scarcely breathe. I released a huge exhale, shuddering wholly, as his body rose. I poignantly ignored the unyielding stare of Queen Alicent beside me, too desperate to ensure that Aemond was alright.

“He’s ok, look- he’s up and moving” Ly whispers, rubbing my back in comfort and I nearly sobbed in relief. Aemond’s face is contorted in pain, a grimace lining his lips as he bows to his mother, his eyes not once meeting mine before he walks away, back straight, face tight.

And shakes Jamie’s hand.

The two men express something amongst themselves before Aemond pats the boy on the back and returns back to his tent. I bit my lip as I watch his retreating figure, worry eating away at me as Jamie comes before the Queen, bowing and grinning at the cheering and adoring crowds.

My eyes meet his again, and he frowns, his eyes glancing to the tent I had been watching intently and a knowing smile, a sad smile, graces his face as he nods.

I smile back, remorse and sympathy on my face as I rise from my seat, ignoring the looks of the people around me as I rush down the steps. The crowds and court were far too encased in Jamie’s victory and with easy manoeuvres, I slip past the stands and gathered crowds, weaving in and out to get to the fighter's quarters.

I duck my head, my hair falling to shield my face as I stride past numerous tents for the competing Lords, looking for the one that was embellished in Green and Red.

For Targaryen and Hightower.

I wait patiently beside a dark brown mare, patting down its fur and allowing it to nuzzle against me in comfort as I beheld Aemond’s tent, knowing that I’d need to wait for the Maester to leave. Thankfully, within minutes he does, the dark-skinned and elderly man slips under the flaps of the tent and with his bag in tow, moves to enter some other injured males' tents.

My fear has me practically running towards Prince Aemond’s tent and I don’t bother with knocking or announcing myself as I slip in and close the sheets behind me.

I sigh in relief as he stands before me, eyes training on mine with a grim expression. The prince was now shirtless, his toned and creamy body on display and perhaps if it weren’t for the red-soaked cloth wrapped around his shoulder, I might have been inclined to blush.

“Aemond” I gasp quietly, stepping forward with an outstretched hand, though he merely dismisses it moving out of the way.

“I’m fine, Y/N” He grits out as he takes in my worry, his face hard as he turns towards his armour set on the table “I will save you the time and trouble, go fawn over Ser Jamie’s victory.” His words are venomous, lethally honed to hurt me.

I recoil, shaking my head as I march to stand beside him, staring at the side of his face even as he avoids my eye. “What the fuck is wrong with you” I spit, my blood boiling “I don’t give a shit that Jamie won, I came here because you’re hurt-”

He turns to me, fury lighting his face as he stares at me. “Was it not satisfying enough to watch the handsome, charming young ser knock me on my ass, you wanted to come to see the true extent of blood drawn too?” He hissed, scowling bitterly as he grabbed a cup of wine bringing it to his lips.

I seethed, my hand instinctively gripping onto that damned cup and throwing it across the tent, the grape staining against the cloth. His eye flared, the hand that had once held the cup now clenching in restraint.

“I don’t know who you think you are but you are acting like a pathetic child, right now,” I say, folding my arms “ Do you honestly think that I’d choose to celebrate with Jamie over coming to see if you’re alright? Do you truly have that low of an opinion of me, truly view me as the whore you implicated me as earlier?”

His eyes fell, that stoic expression hesitating as he beheld my anger, my sadness and hurt and concern all laced into one very sensitive expression.

“I didn’t intend to insult you, I just got…” He paused, sighing dejectedly, his head hanging in shame. “Jamie Lannister is an eligible and noble bachelor and you are a beautiful and well-desired woman of powerful blood- even my mother and Otto talked of how perfectly suited a marriage would be between the two of you.”

I furrowed my brows, my anger simmering into nothing as I beheld his frown, that quiet jealousy and insecurity hidden there. He continued, a strain in his voice as he lifted that one raw eye to mine “Seeing the two of you together, I knew they were right. Lords and Ladies like the two of you are meant to be together and I was envious of that reality.”

“Why? I never once stated an interest to wed Jamie, not with romantic intentions or political ones.” I said gently, my hand coming to rest upon his bare chest “ Did you not hear me scream for you when that lance pierced your armour? I was scared for you, not Jamie. You. I have never been as scared in my life as I was when you were on the ground” I said with a trembling voice.

He didn’t reply, his jaw clenching and eye averting as I stood before him, that invisible wall a barrier between us.

And I knew that this was more than just male ego and bravado at play.

“Jamie and I have been friends for many years, just friends.” I lament, my fingers moving to his chin and I grip it to bring his eyes to mine. “He is a lovely man and I’m sure any would woman would be lucky to gain his favour, but I’m not that woman.”

“The way you hugged-“

“ I haven’t seen him in six years,” I say, cutting him off, before scoffing a bit embarrassingly “and perhaps, I may have been a little more enthusiastic knowing that you were there to witness it.” His eyes widen at that and I smile as a small smirk graces his features.

“You wanted to make me jealous?” He questions, an incredulous tone lining his words, even as he shifts closer, a hand now settling on the spine of my back. I nearly purr under the feel of his touch, that warmth and electricity firing through every single atom of my being.

“You ignored me for four days” I remind him, my brow rising and lip curling into a sneer “I was confused and furious and… embarrassed.” His eye softens and his hand tightens around me at the slight quake in my voice.

“That night… we did something so personal, so wildly damning Aemond and if it meant nothing then you need to tell me now, please I can’t-“

He cuts me off by bringing his lips to mine. I thaw into him, into the tenderness of his lips as he carefully and graciously brushes them against mine, his hands holding my body against his, his fingers curving into the soft material of my gown.

The kiss is slow, deliberate and keen, an act of admission and action, an answer to the question I desperately needed. He pulls back after a few moments, resting his forehead against mine as we pant against each other.

“I do not regret it at all, it meant… god, Y/N, it meant everything to me. I’ve been fantasizing about that night, your lips, your body, fuck the sounds that I got out of you…” He ran his hand down my jaw and across my lips, my body lighting at the bare touch.

“I didn’t want to stay away from you, it physically pained me to do it but” He paused sighing “I didn’t want you to feel obliged… It is no easy thing to be with a man like me, and I did not want your first experiences of lust and intimacy to cloud your judgement and to push you into doing things that you will later regret”. I frown, my hand cupping his cheek.

“What do you mean by a ‘man like you'? What kind of man is that Aemond?” I ask, my lips pouting under the pain that his dark eye expressed.

“You know Darling” He laughs bitterly “I am no charming and handsome Lannister, not with this monstrosity on my face and certainly not by the standards of the people's opinion of me-“

“Do I honestly look like I desire a pampered and pretty Ser?” I question, brows furrowing even as he chokes on a laugh but I continue “ I don’t give a fuck what anyone else looks like or what anyone else says. I yearn for you my Prince, scars and all, and not just physically but spiritually, emotionally, we connect on a level that nothing, no one, else could compare to.”

I ran a shaking hand down his scar, racing it from his brow over the leather patch and to his cheek before resting it against his jaw. Aemond’s face was constricted and I could feel his trembling breath beneath my palm.

“You said so yourself Aemond, like a moth to a flame” I whisper the words back to him, a caress across his lips “I’m yours.”

His restraint snaps at my proclamation and soon, I’m whining into his mouth as he devours me, his lips feral upon mine. My hands lay over his chest, careful of his wound and I run them purposefully across his chest and shoulders, writhing at the feeling of muscle and flesh.

He groans, his hands slipping down my back to my ass and he kneads the flesh there with satisfaction as I yelp in surprise. Our tongues battle, fanning each other with reverence as his hands slide down from my ass to my thighs and with little effort he hoists me up.

“Aemond!” I giggle, my legs wrapping around his waist. He grins, peppering kisses against my cheek and lips as he turns to sit me on the table, standing between my legs as he does so.

I swiftly pull him back down to my lips, my hands tugging against the braid of hair that now falls against his back and he jerks against my thigh, growling low in his throat in appreciation. His hands roam, tracing down my neck and over the flesh of my chest and I shiver as he thumbs my nipples through the material, pinching and rolling the sensitive pebbled flesh.

I whimper as he pulls back from our kiss, chuckling darkly in amusement at my need but before I can chide him, he’s sliding down onto his knees before me.

Holy gods.

I pause, my breath hollowing out as I behold him on his knees, his hands gripping and spreading my thighs to stretch along the table and give him better access.

“Aemond?” I whisper uncertainly but he merely hushes me, a soothing hand rubbing my ankle as he trails my skirts up my legs before handing me the gathered material to hold. He smiles, feral and possessed as he takes in my white stockings and one by one, he slowly strips off the material, his trace scorching against my exposed legs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this cunt since last week, my darling” He comments, pressing a kiss against my thigh, even as I clench at the obscenity of his words. “I only got a little taste but now I’m ready to indulge myself… What do you think?”

His question is genuine, regard flashing across the Princes face as he stops, resting his hands against my thighs in uncertainty.

“I don’t want you to injure yourself further Aemond, your shoulder is already bleeding-“

“Trust me, there is no better remedy in the world than what lay between your pretty thighs, Princess” he purrs grinning, and again looks at me in inquiry.

I nod, knowing that he could do anything to me and I’d consent.

“Use your words darling” He reprimanded, smiling at the quake that travelled through my thighs at his lewd caress.

“Yes, I… yes, I want you to” I croak out, my cheeks heating. Aemond smirks, knowing that I couldn’t say the words but he doesn’t tease, instead, as if impatient, he runs his hands up to my underwear, tucking his fingers under the cloth and rips them clean off.

I gasp, hips bucking as he does so, astonished.

“Aemond, what the fu-“

I moan out in surprise as he licks a strip up the length of my pussy.

He pulls back, lips wet, eye wild and mutters “Fuck, you taste like heaven.”

His lips come back to my aching pussy, his attention solely on my clit as he sucks desperately at the nub, his lips pulling as his tongue lapped invariably against it. I gasp, eyes falling shut and my body tightening at the sheer pleasure that rushed through my body at the feeling.

So overwhelming, so all-consuming. It was so unfamiliar and yet so intoxicating.

He grins against me, as I pant out his name, my hand coming down to grip his braid between my fingers and as he grazes his teeth against me I yank, hard enough to hurt. The groan of pleasure that reverberates through him and into me has me crying out, my hips now jerking back and forth, riding his tongue.

“Hmmm” He grumbles in praise as his hands grip my thighs on either side of his head, his fingers digging into the fleshy meat there, holding me down like a captive as he has his way with me.

“Aemond, fuck, fuck” I chant, endless whimpers escaping me as he trails his hot tongue down from my clit and pushes it into me, that stretch of warmth and movement making me spasm and my eyes roll. He fucks his tongue in and out at a steady and building pace, his nose angling to rub against my clit.

The stimulation was too much and I jolted, thighs aching as he held me against him, even as I fought to run away from that devastation. I cry out, tears leaking down my cheeks now at the cruel pace he sets, his nose strokes and his tongue fucks me in tandem, that familiar peak nearing.

He growls as he quickens his speed, clueing on to how my body has begun to tremor, and tighten and my pussy is clenching around his tongue.

And as he runs his teeth along that sensitive bud I gasp out, my eyes screwing shut, “Aemond, Aemond, Aemond” I chant again and again, near sobbing as that feeling within me cleaves, my body at breaking point as undulated release rocks through me. I whimper loudly, legs physically shaking and writhing as I try to wrangle them to close around his head.

Aemond continues to tease me through my orgasm, kissing and sucking and biting and I almost have to beg him to stop, that mixture of pleasure and pain completely wrecking me. He pulls away after a moment, a lewd and wet sound as he pops off from sucking my clit and I sag at the feeling.

My eyes clamped shut, my chest heaving up and down in exhaustion as I heard him rise, his breath similarly jagged. His hand cups my cheek as he holds me against him and I slowly blink my eyes at his.

I groan at the wetness across his lips, the rose on his cheeks and the mess of his hair from my fingers combing through them to hold him close but also to rip him off. He grins, feline and pleased as he takes in my utter ruin and the intensity of my release.

He kisses me, allowing me to taste myself and I sigh against his lips, my hand coming up to run up and down his jaw and chest.

“Are you in pain?” I ask, my concerned eyes dropping to his shoulder, where the blood now dried into the cloth. He shakes his head softly, even moving his arm back and forth in proof and I relax at the confirmation.

“That was amazing” I whisper, kissing his neck and then near his wounded shoulder and he laughs, his hand fiddling with the damp strands of my hair.

“Good” He muses, humming “ I fucking live off making you cum. There is nothing as beautiful as the noises you make and the way your face contorts when I’ve pushed you over the edge” He mutters lowly, smirking at the effect his words have on me.

“What about you?” I ask, shaking my head clear of the daze.

He merely kisses my cheek, nuzzling into me softly “What about me darling?”.

“You always make me feel good, make me… cum” He grins as that word leaves my mouth and I roll my eyes with heated cheeks. “What about you?”

“Pleasuring and finishing you is enough for me” He shrugs, and he looks genuine in his answer “ I have no expectation of anything else, do not worry my Princess.”

“I’m not worried and it’s not about expectations” I frown, leaning forward to pull him in for a deep kiss “ I want to make you feel good too” I whisper softly and he growls deep in his throat at the need and ardour coating my voice.

“Yeah?” He questions darkly, brow-raising even as I eagerly nod “There is plenty of time for that, sweet girl, there is so much yet for us to explore.” I shiver at the promise in his voice and that dark, meticulous light in his eyes.

“Very well, My Prince” I grin, my hand coming to rest against his throat “ But don’t even think about avoiding me for four days after this.”

@uaze123 @lomllino @daddysfavoritesexkitten @backinwonderl4nd @mirandastuckinthe80s @zgzgzh

#aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond smut #enemies to lovers #team black

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 1 year

Text

Eustass Kid/F!Darling: The Fun of Raiding

TW: Noncon, light mention of blood, cumming inside

Word Count: 2000+

Kid knew he was a sick bastard. Terror, destruction, blood and smoke, they all excited him. And others being afraid of him, THAT excited him a lot; nothing showed his strength like a bunch of corpses and people sobbing and shaking all because of him. Funnily enough, that same savagery he displayed meant he had plenty of women throwing themselves at him; nothing attracted women like power. But the faces of his nighttime lays all blurred together. It didn't help that he'd throw them off at the next port, but he never liked getting attached to anyone that wasn't part of the crew.

And yet here he was, staring at the same woman he'd been eyeing ever since he'd seen her at the dock. She'd been buying some groceries (the fuck's the point? Stealing means you get the food for free) and unlike the others who had seen the flag of the Victoria Punk, she hadn't immediately run inside or screamed for the Marines to help. All she'd done was grab a child who'd fallen down in the chaos, toss her bag onto the ground, and carry him over to their mother who'd been frantically searching for him. And when she'd spied the spyglass glinting in the sun towards her direction, she'd defiantly held her middle finger up and continued to help others that were panicking. Kid smirked--he liked it when the townspeople showed some backbone.

Now the village was on fire, most of the Marines were dead or injured, and now that he was back in his quarters, that woman was glaring at him from his bed. She was holding a bandaged wound on her forearm while trying to hide how she was shaking.

"You look like a fuckin' deer, shivering like that," Kid said with a grin.

She turned her head to spit on his floor. "Bring deer up to your dingy piece-of-shit rustbucket often? Or am I special?"

"Very special," Kid countered. He tossed his coat onto the bedspread behind her and swiftly pinned her down with one arm. She fought and kicked against him, but he easily ignored her weak attempts to fend him off. "I've fucked mouthy chicks before," he added, kissing her roughly and moving his lips down to her breasts and her thighs. "And ones that acted all self-righteous, and even the occasional little shy wallflower, but one that didn't want me? That's new. Like a game."

Kid ripped her shirt in half and yanked her pants down, revealing her bare pussy. She kicked him squarely in the jaw, and he laughed before pinning her legs down. "Now I'm gonna get blood and lipstick on you," he replied, licking the red trickling down his lower lip. "Guess we're into the same shit." He lapped hungrily at her clit, grinning when she whined and bucked her hips at the sudden sensation.

His pace was fast and sloppy, eager to get her to cum as quickly as possible. Once she came around his tongue, then he'd win her over. He eased one thick finger into her walls while latching onto her clit as she whimpered and cried out. "What's yer name, Pretty?"

"Are you fucking kidding me," she snapped, sniffling and covering her face. "Y-you're asking me this now!? You don't even care, you just…just…just STOP, let me go!"

"Uh-uh, baby. I don't leave things unfinished," Kid moaned. He felt her tighten around his finger and heard her panting faster and faster while her hips shook. "That's it, thaaaaat's it…cum for me, Pretty."

____ sobbed as she convulsed and felt Kid pump two fingers in and out of her cunt. Once her spasms had finally subsided, he held his hand up to his lips and lazily licked the arousal off of his fingers. "There's more where that came from. I'm not stopping 'til I learn my woman's name." He tugged his trousers down and rubbed the tip of his cock against her stiff clit, and he pinned her arms to keep her from covering her face any longer.

"____," she said through gritted teeth. "My name is ____, okay? Now just throw me off this fucking boat or kill me or whatever you do to people after you…you…"

"You kidding me? I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon." Kid left a trail of smeared burgundy up and down ____'s neck. "I'm not just fucking and dumping you in one night–I'm keeping you, ____.

____ desperately tried to squeeze her thighs together, but Kid's knee managed to keep her from blocking him. "But you said you'd stop once you learned my–"

"Once I learned my woman's name," Kid corrected. "Gotta make you mine for you to be my woman." He eased the tip of his cock inside her warm tight walls, and the two of them gasped softly. "Fuckin' hell, you're tight," Kid chuckled with a shaky laugh as he rocked into her at a slow pace. "A pair of fuckin' Sea Prism cuffs couldn't keep me locked up like this, shit…" He nipped her collarbone and groped one of her breasts before giving her another sloppy kiss. "You a virgin, baby? Hm?"

____ squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out what was happening. Why did she have to get snatched up by one of the craziest goddamn pirates in the new generation? Why did he get obsessed with her, just because she didn't want him? And once he got what he wanted, would he just get rid of her? Is she gonna die tomorrow morning when he wakes up after violating her and the fun of it wears off?

"Just get rid of me already," she begged. Every time he bottomed out inside of her, she let out a small choked sob. His fingers were one thing, his tongue was another, but his cock was stretching her to her limit--and he was going slowly right now. "Find someone else and…Goddamnit, I don't care how awful it is to say, take someone else!"

She struggled to free her arms and kick him off of her. "I'm not the only woman on the fucking planet who doesn't want you! Just find someone with common sense and a functioning fucking survival instinct. Who the fuck would wanna go through this!? With you!? Sick, sadistic piece of--mmph!"

Kid cut her venomous tirade off by shoving his tongue into her mouth. Fuck, she was hot in a way he'd never seen before. She was crying, begging for mercy, and then switching to lashing out at him and fighting with all her strength…he'd turned her into a wreck. And this was just his first night with her. She could cry and whine about how he was gonna dump her into the ocean tomorrow all she wanted, but there was no way in hell he was letting her go. What good was a prize if you couldn't keep it for yourself? It'd be like getting the One Piece and tossing it the next day.

Kid pulled away and marvelled at ____'s face. A string of saliva connected the two of them, and his lipstick was smeared all over her mouth and cheek. Tears were spilling down her face, and even when half-glazed with arousal her eyes were filled with hatred. Still…he could see the moments it'd flicker more towards fear and conflict with how she was getting closer and closer to cumming again.

Her lips scrunched up into a cute little pout when he hit a particularly sweet spot inside of her. He cupped her chin with his metallic hand and squished her cheeks together; when she jerked her head and tried to bite his fingers, he laughed and gave her thighs a playful squeeze. "You trying to break your fuckin' teeth? I've torn through cannons with this arm, y'know."

____ freed one of her arms from Kid's other hand's grasp and clawed at his face. Kid hissed in pain, but didn't even look angry; instead, he bit his lip and went even faster. "Hit me again," he moaned. When she just looked up at him with confusion and revulsion, Kid raised an eyebrow and took her by the wrist. "Hit. Me. Again."

He let go of her hand and pushed her thighs up to hoist her legs around his waist. "I make you cum, I make you my woman, and you can't do one simple fucking thing for me? I'd think you'd want to hit me again. Setting your island on fire wasn't enough? Hauling you over my shoulder kicking and screaming wasn't enough? Maybe I should've grabbed that kid at the docks and used the little brat for target practice, would that have made you wanna hit me–"

____ scratched at Kid's face and shoulders, punching him with every word she screamed at him. "Shut--your--fucking--mouth! If you go near that boy, I swear I'll–"

"That's it, get mad," Kid moaned with a grin. The sting of her nails cutting into his cheek and the dull ache of her weak little punches against his shoulder and jaw felt almost as heavenly as her cunt. "That's when you're strongest, baby. Do it again."

"I hate you, I hate you," ____ sobbed, clawing at her captor while trying to kick at his sides while he held onto her thighs. "I'm gonna fucking–"

"Gonna fucking cum," Kid sighed pleasurably. "I bet you are too, Kitty. I can feel you getting close again. You're squeezing niiice and tight every time I hit--right–here!"

He thrust his hips forward to hit that same velvety spot from before over and over, making ____ cry out in a high-pitched squeal every time he thrust forward. He should be wrong, she shouldn't be close to cumming, she shouldn't be here in the clutches of an obsessed monster like this! And yet she couldn't deny it much longer, especially with how fast and brutal he was fucking into her now.

Kid normally pulled out when he came, just to avoid any risk of getting his women knocked up. And he didn't care about making them cum more than once; hell, he didn't even like looking them in the eyes too much when he did the deed. But with ____, he wanted nothing else. He wanted to cover her in his handprints, his lipstick, his teethmarks, his cum…he's definitely keeping her.

For the first time in his life, he came inside of his woman while moaning her name like a goddamn prayer. He felt his cum trickle out of her as he fucked her through his climax, panting and sighing in her ear while lazily kissing her jawbone and neck. His moan died down to a low raspy murmur, and he could feel her heart racing underneath him. He smiled against her skin and moved one of his hands down from her breast to her clit one more time, spiralling his thumb as fast as possible to push her over the edge. "Cum for me again."

As much as ____ wanted to deny it, she did as he commanded.

Kid moved his head up to admire her face as she came undone once again, all because of him. He really was an evil motherfucker to love corrupting a sweet, naive little thing like her. A few hours ago she was saving an innocent child and giving him the finger, and now she was mewling as she came around his cock.

The two of them panted wordlessly, with only the other sound around them being the ocean waves lapping against the ship and the faint clanking of metal pistons. Kid slowly pulled himself out of ____ and turned over to lie on his back while pressing her against his chest. ____ sniffles and quietly cried on top of him, and Kid quietly threw his coat over her shivering body as he started to nod off. He could feel the faint dull pain of bruises starting to form where she'd punched and scratched him, as well as the cold air making the blood she'd drawn tacky. Despite that, or partially because of it, he fell asleep and enjoyed the best night he'd had with a woman in years.

#yandere kid #yandere one piece #.one piece #.kid #.myshit #fem darling #tw: noncon #.commission

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ozarkthedog · 9 months

Note

💀marc has a blood kink and a bit of a sadistic streak i said what i said

warnings: 18+ only. mdni. dark!Marc Spector x f!Reader. sparring. blood kink. pain kink. no beta.

word count: 588

author's note: idk what this is but i love it & am not ashamed. p.s., hi, sorry i haven't posted anything in months. :) p.s.s. sorry this is so late @moonknightly but thank you for the dark! thots.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 · 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“You gotta keep your hands up.”

You respond with a pained gasp when Marc lands another punch. This time it’s to your jaw. It aches and pounds beneath your skin. You try to shake the pain away despite your world spinning.

“Again. Let’s go.” Marc commands harshly before circling your disorientated body as you try to regain your balance. “You won’t last long in a fight if you can’t take a few hits.”

You raise your fists and bounce on the balls of your feet. Marc smirks at your determination to keep up. “It's cute you think you can beat me.”

A growl rumbles in your chest and you strike without a plan.

He easily dives under your right hook before planting a savage fist in your belly. Air is ripped from your lungs forcing you to keel over. Marc sees his advantage as you choke on gasps of air and kicks your feet out from under you.

You let out a sick grunt as you crumble to the ground. The hard training mat nicks your cheekbone when you fall face first against the flooring. Sweltering heat burns your body as bile races up your throat from the pain.

Marc stands over your heaving frame and clicks his tongue in disappointment. He roughly nudges your frame until you're lying on your back before crouching down over your body. His thighs encase your arms leaving you with no way to fend for yourself. You can barely breathe with his weight on top of you. No matter how much you struggle, you can't get free.

Darkness creeps into the warmth of his eyes as he sits on your chest and stares at your frightened face.

“Stupid little girl. What am I gonna do with you?”

Marc spies blood pooling to the surface of your cheek. He thumbs harshly at the wound rubbing the spilt crimson into your skin. You whine from the pain and struggle once more under his massive thighs.

“You look good in red.” Marc smirks something deadly down at you before landing a devastating backhand.

White light flashes behind your eyes as your already abused cheekbone blazes like hot coals. Your lips part in a yelp as the room spins making you even more nauseous than before.

“Hey, hey, come back to me,” Marc husks, cupping your face in his hands. “I wanna see how much you can take.”

Your face burns with searing pain as he grazes his thumb over the welt and tugs on the skin, opening the wound further. Marc watches with morbid fervor as crimson pours from the broken skin.

He covers your mouth with a weighty hand dulling your screams to muffled moans while he works not caring that you writhe beneath him. You kick your legs towards his back hoping to land a blow but the angle is wrong, you can’t even graze him.

Marc barely feels you moving under his weight, he’s so invested in your turmoil. He drags two thick fingers through the fresh wound making you vibrate with a scream under his palm before curiously bringing the coated digits to his lips and sucking on them.

He moans around his fingers, eyes dropping closed for a beat, from the tangy, metal taste before sucking on the tips like after a delicious meal.

“Shit.” He groans from deep in his chest before leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know,” He begins, licking his lips and flashing his crimson stained teeth. “I can taste your fear.”

💌 send me mail - feel free to scream at me

#marc spector #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #dark!marc spector #oscar isaac

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heavyhighlandheart · 10 months

Text

Hawkins Hellraiser Pt.5

Chapter Five: The Trailer Park

Summary: You and Eddie head to his trailer to watch a movie. You've fallen for him, big time. He's a total sweetheart with you.

Warnings: 18+, graphic gore descriptions from real horror movie, mention of bad relationship with father, good ol' makeout sesh

w/c: 2k

A/N: Okay, so I really loved writing this part, it's been in the pipeline from the beginning but I wanted to set the scene and expand on the characters. Plus, I'm a completely hopeless romantic and didn't want to dive right into the smut (stay tuned for that). Anyway, enjoy! <3

Eddie’s ‘71 Chevy van was falling to pieces. The seat’s fabric was ripping at the seams and stained ten times over. You winced at the sound of it squeaking and grinding every time Eddie hit the brakes. You weren’t sure if you felt completely safe in the passenger seat, as if the whole thing was just going to pack in at any moment.

“I fixed her up myself, you know,” Eddie beamed, eyes on the road. “She was a much bigger mess than she is now, trust me,” he spied your hand gripping the door handle and sensed your unease. “My uncle taught me, got me under cars that he’d take home from the yard and showed me how to fix ‘em up. That’s the trouble with people, as soon as something stops doing what it’s supposed to do, it’s junk, trash. They don’t realise it can be fixed, if they’re willing to get their hands dirty.” He turned to you with a sly smirk on his lips, his left hand rested on the wheel. You smile back, releasing your grip slightly. Eddie turned back to the road. “Still, my old man didn’t like that so much. Said I should be learning how to break into ‘em, hotwire ‘em and get away quickly,” he shook his head, looking down at his free hand that he began to flex and stretch as it rested on his thigh.

“That must have been tough,” you look at him longingly, waiting for him to match your gaze. Eddie shrugged, giving you a pained smile, “dads suck, right?” You nod, your mind piecing together the parts of Eddie Munson that you didn’t yet understand.

The van began to bump and shuffle as Eddie turned into the trailer park’s dirt road. He pulled in front of a trailer on the right, the van grinding to a sharp halt. “Here we are, my humble castle.” He skips over to the passenger door, eager to hold it open for you as you hop out of the van.

“Eddie!” a childish voice called from behind you both. A young boy was running towards him, grinning like a Cheshire cat, with a thick book in his hands. “Hey, dude!” Eddie beamed, catching him in his arms and throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. “I’ve been waiting ages for you!” The boy squealed. “Can we keep reading?”

You give Eddie a puzzled look and he responds with pleading eyes, like he’s making the hardest decision of his life. “One sec, big guy.” He places his hand at the small of your waist and ushers you a few steps to the side, leaning into your face in a whisper. “Listen, I uh-”, he sighs, head hanging down, chestnut eyes looking into yours, “I…I read to him, his mom asked me to. He’s not so great with words but he really wanted to read The Hobbit, so when his mom found out it was one of my favourites, she uh- she begged me to read it to him. Said she’d even pay me in cigarettes.” He scoffed, staring at you with those pleading eyes, hoping you would understand and be okay with it. Your heart must have skipped a beat because your breath caught in your throat briefly, and you pressed your lips tighter together. “I’ll just read him a chapter and then we can watch the movie, is that okay?” You grinned, putting your hand on his arm that was still at your waist, “absolutely”.

Eddie smiled a toothy grin and clapped his hands, jumping with excitement and patting the kid on the back, “c’mon buddy!”

Eddie pulled out two deckchairs from inside his trailer, offering one to you, the kid quickly taking his seat in the other. Eddie sat on the ground next to him as he used the tucked bookmark to open up the pages. “There were many paths that led up into those mountains, and many passes over them. But most of the paths were cheats and deceptions and led nowhere or to bad ends; and most of the passes were infested by evil things and dreadful dangers.” The kid’s eyes lit up, as did Eddie’s, like he was reliving his childhood all over again. He would occasionally sneak a glance at you, your head leaning into the wood of the chair. Sometimes you would close your eyes just to try and listen more intently to his voice; his tone changing with each character and with perfect expression. You envisioned the scenes in your mind; descriptions coming to life as Eddie spoke, like some kind of guided meditation. His voice was warm and inviting. When his eyes were on the book, you’d let your eyes fall onto his lips, the way they moved with certain words, how he smiled and chuckled at his own reading and how he would moisten his lips when he turned the page. You noticed how the book rested in his hands, one hand holding the spine from below and the other tracing the words as he read aloud. Your thoughts on him were changing. He was misunderstood; a kind and hopeful soul. The more notice you gave to his lips, the more you wanted to kiss them, or wanted him to kiss you. You licked your lips at the thought.

Eddie placed the bookmark at the next chapter and shut it tight, “there you go, buddy,” he smiled, passing the book over. “One more, Eddie, please?” he begged. “You know I’d love to, kid, but-” he leaned in to whisper in his ear and glanced over at you, “I’ve got a date.” The kid rolled his eyes, “ugh, fine. Tomorrow though?” Eddie grinned, pulling the kid to his feet and ruffling his hair, “tomorrow, for sure. See ya, buddy.” The kid ran off to a trailer a few rows down, waving as he went.

You stand up, hands tucked into your back pockets. Eddie walks over to you, looking smug. “So uh, are you ready for that movie?” You nod, suddenly your mouth feels dry and you clear your throat, blushing, “mm-hmm”. Eddie opens the door of the trailer for you, following you inside.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says, quickly bundling up clothes and magazines and throwing them into one corner, “I uh- don’t usually have visitors." Pots and pans were strewn across the kitchenette, pillows sunken into the sofa and the curtains closed. It felt darker than it should and there were a few questionable smells lingering. “My uncle’s working today, his first day shift in weeks, so he shouldn’t be back until later tonight.” Eddie tried clearing some of the mess in the kitchen, throwing the pans in the sink and closing any open drawers, brushing crumbs off the counter and onto the floor. He turns to you, realising he’s skipped your attention. “Listen, uh- you have a seat, make yourself comfortable, I’m just gonna tidy some shit up and then we’ll get that movie started, huh?” You nod, taking a seat awkwardly on the sofa. Eddie heads further into the trailer to the bathroom, and you hear him banging and clattering as he tidies. When he’s out of sight, you start fluffing up the sofa pillows and brushing down the upholstery, straightening up anything you can find. You pick up a blanket from the floor, smells musty but it’ll do, you think to yourself, fanning it and folding it over the sofa. You tidy up what you can of the coffee table; a used bong, cigarette butts and ash turning the wood from a gleaming light birch to a dirty grey. The TV sits on a small cabinet at the wall, a few VHS tapes underneath - a couple of horrors, The Dark Crystal and a porno - quite the mixture.

Eddie appears, having already removed his denim jacket, revealing his Hellfire Club baseball shirt. He ruffles up his fringe, opening the fridge and grabbing two beer bottles. “So this-” he opens the bottle with his teeth, letting the top fall to the ground, “-is for you,” he chuckles, passing you a beer. He does the same with his own and holds out his bottle, “cheers,” he grins, and you tap your drinks, both taking a sip. “Mmm, that’s good. Hey, did you tidy up in here?” You look around sheepishly, “uh- I might have done a little”. Eddie chuckles, “c’mon, let’s get this movie started, you’re gonna love it.”

He puts the tape in and sits on the sofa, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and pats the seat next to him. You wonder for a moment if he’s just being incredibly nice, or if he really, genuinely likes you. You can't decide whether you're brave enough to make a move. You sit next to him, clutching the beer bottle with both hands, eyes on the tiny little screen in front of you. You decide you're going to do it, make a move. You grab the blanket that you folded up earlier, opening it out and laying it over yourself, it brushes over Eddie's leg. "Wanna share?" You ask hopefully. "Uh, duh! Can't have you hogging it now, can we?" Eddie smiles, reaching to pull the blanket over his legs and waist, brushing your legs lightly. You smile smugly to yourself, pressing the bottle to your lips to take a sip.

The movie continues, an hour passes, and you've made no significant moves on Eddie. C'mon, you tell yourself, just do it. Pretty soon you don't have to try. A particularly horrific scene begins and Eddie starts to look excited, "oh this bit is so fucking awesome, just wait." One of the cannibals reaches into a bird cage to grab a tiny bird fluttering around, before pulling off its head and drinking its blood. You writhe and squirm, covering your eyes, "oh that's fucking disgusting!" Eddie laughs, "aw c'mon, it's so metal!"

"No it's gross! Tell me when it's over!" You turn to face him, pulling up the blanket to cover your peripheral vision. You stare at him as he watches the TV, light flickering in his eyes, a sly smile curving at his mouth. "Okay, it's all done," he laughs, turning to see you looking up at him, slumped into his shoulder with your eyes wide. "You promise?" You ask, your voice shaky with anticipation.

"Yeah, I promise," Eddie speaks low and soft, his eyes dropping to your lips. He leans in slowly, placing his lips to yours softly, lingering for a moment. He hums against your kiss before pulling away, revealing a toothy smile. "I've wanted to do that since the day I saw you in Miss O'Donnell's." You can't help but smile, your cheeks flushing, "oh yeah? Even after I pushed you into the lockers?" Eddie chuckles, "especially after you pushed me into the lockers!" You're taken aback and raise one eyebrow, "really?"

"Uh, yeah, that was fucking hot!" Eddie's eyes widen and he takes a longer sip of his beer. You laugh and your hand falls, resting on his thigh; you don't even think twice about it, it feels natural. "It wasn't supposed to be hot, it was supposed to be intimidating." You furrow your brow, attempting to show off your hard exterior. "Oh, trust me," Eddie starts, "it was, but it was still fucking hot!" Your eyes meet again, and you both stare longingly. That voice in your head comes back, do it, do it, do it. "Eddie… can I, uh- can I kiss you again?" Eddie bites his bottom lip and smiles sweetly, leaning into you, "I would love that". His lips press to yours, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek as your hand grazes his thigh. His lips part for a breath and you follow suit, touching your tongues lightly, dancing together in slow waves.

The movie continues in the background, the victims' screams almost inaudible as you both sink into a moment of sweet pleasure. You had to pinch yourself with the hand holding your beer, you couldn't believe you were finally kissing Eddie Munson.

A/N: if you got this far, thank you! I'd love to hear your thoughts on Hellraiser so far, so please feel free to send me an ask and let me know what you think, make any requests, ask questions! <3

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