#if I had to describe him with one word it would be passionate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oddinary4bts · 4 months

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To Give a Helping Hand | jjk

☆summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: masturbation. that's it, that's the whole thing. Cumshot on his hand tattoos. Jungkook is hella horny for reader and jerks off thinking about her - fantasies of oral sex (male and female receiving), of unprotected sex, of rough sex, of hickeys and marking (scratches on the back), of shower sex, of spanking, of choking, of creampies, of clit play, of fingering and squirting. Multiple orgasms, lowkey pain kink and praise kink (let me know if I forgot something)

☆word count: 1.8k (I think it's the shortest thing I've ever written on here lmao)

☆a/n: pure unedited sins bc mr jeon jungkook makes me horny despite being in the army. hope this doesn't disappoint lmaooo thank you to @wintaerbaer for her help with the banner (it would have been a horrible mess without your guidance) and for encouraging me to write this!! love you Ari <3333

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re driving him insane.

You. Are. Driving. Him. Insane.

Insane.

Every time Jungkook sees you at the gym, he goes insane. Completely, utterly, insane. He thinks there has to be a better word in the dictionary to describe what you do to him but, alas, he can’t find it.

So insane it is, and he tries to live up to the name.

He’s been home for five minutes, and he’s already in his bed, dick so hard he thinks it’ll explode. Because of course you had to be doing squats today, in those way too tight biker shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Your thick ass, stretching the fabric so much he thinks he spied a thong underneath…

Jungkook grunts, hiding his eyes behind his arm, trying to erase the picture from his mind. But he can’t. You’re everywhere – behind his closed eyelids, or a ghost in his room when he opens his eyes again.

It’s been that way since the very first day he saw you at the gym. Jungkook caught sight of you and immediately had a boner, which hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake, yet the sight of you turns him on far more than anything ever has.

You’re just… perfect. Too hot, your body perfectly sculpted by the hours you spend at the gym every week. Jungkook dreams of dragging his hands, his tongue, on every inch of your body. Of caressing your hard-earned muscles, of gripping the meat of your ass…

Of grinding into you and hearing the little breathy moans he’s sure that you make in the thralls of passion.

Fuck.

If he’s honest, he would have fucked you that first time. Would have approached you and charmed you, seduced you until he’d have you writhing under his body. But one look – one damn look – at your keychain, and he knew you were off limits.

The bright pink Kooky plushie hanging from the keychain was a firm reminder that he cannot approach you, ever. Indeed, he doesn’t mix pleasure with work, which is starting to prove increasingly hard as he gets more famous, and as his fans grow way too numerous.

As his fans, as you pretend that you don’t recognize him when you go to the gym, even though he catches you looking at him all the time. Yet he can’t approach you, won’t approach you, ever. But nothing stops him from exploring his dirty little fantasies, whenever he wraps his hand around his cock…

Jungkook grunts, and he decides to take manners into his own hands, literally. He wishes it’d be your hand, gripping his cock once he’s pushed his shorts and underwear down. Wishes you’d hold him tight as you’d jerk him off slowly, eyes never leaving his.

He imagines you taking him in your mouth. Your plump lips, wrapping around the tip of his cock, sucking once as he’d fist your hair, restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth. Or maybe you’d give him the go to fuck your mouth, to unleash himself on you…

Jungkook moans, and he jerks himself off, slowly. Eyes closed as he imagines everything he wants you to do to him, everything he wants to do to you. His hand is not nearly enough to pleasure him, not when he’s been craving you the way that he has…

But it’ll make do.

Spitting in his other hand, Jungkook holds his dick up to rub the natural lube on the head of his cock. He winces – he’s already so damn sensitive… Probably because he’s sported a semi since he saw you at the gym.

Who gave you the right to go to the gym in those shorts, with only a sports bra to pair with them? You looked devilish, downright sinful, and you’ve dragged him to hell.

Once his dick is lubed up, glistening in the dim light from the hallway because he sure as hell didn’t have time to turn the lights on in his room, Jungkook strokes himself, slowly. Tattooed fingers firmly wrapped around his cock, just the way he likes it – right under the tip, hard enough to hurt just a little bit.

Hard enough to make him wish he was fucking your tight pussy instead. He imagines the drag of your walls on his dick, on his veins and on the ridge of his tip. He imagines your breasts bouncing up and down as you’d ride him, and then your face, contorted in pleasure, as he’d jackhammer into you.

He’s had noise complaints from his neighbours once, because of the loud singing he does once in a while, when he goes live for his fans. Right now, he wishes he’d get a noise complaint because they’d hear him fucking you good, fucking you until you’d crumble into ecstasy.

He picks up the pace on his dick, free hand grabbing at the white sheet of his bed. Would you be the type to moan unabashedly loud? To say his name when you come, when your walls flutter on his dick?

The thought makes his dick twitch in his hand, and Jungkook grunts again, curses underneath his breath. He doesn’t even know your name, but he sure as hell knows he’d come with your name a litany on his lips, a sinful melody he’d sing just for you to hear.

Would you drag your nails on his back, marking him so that the world knows you’re his? Would you suck on his neck, leave hickeys behind that he’d have to hide under foundation? Would you beg for him, or would you be a brat?

He wants you to be a brat. He wants to have to put you back into your place, to spank your ass and choke you until all you know is his name. He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you. And maybe one day he’ll betray his number one rule, maybe one day he’ll fuck you into the night, hear you cry with pleasure as he’d pump his load inside of you…

His imagination is running wild, and his pace on his dick is relentless, unforgiving. His bicep burns already, even though he’s barely started. Or maybe he’s just too lost in his fantasies, losing track of time. But he doesn’t care – he’d lose track of time fucking you, too.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows bunched together as if in pain. But he’s not hurting – he feels way too good, the pleasure running through his blood a symphony every cell inside of him is addicted to.

You’re just too beautiful to him. He’d fucking crawl on his knees for you, or maybe he’d make you crawl. He’d force you to crawl, to beg for him, to…

Jungkook grunts loudly, his orgasm hitting so hard it feels like a trainwreck. He doesn’t slow down his pace on his dick right away, letting his cum spurt out and drip on his fingers, on the back of his hand. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess – he’s lost to his pleasure, and he doesn’t want to come back to sanity. He wants to stay insane, and so he drags his orgasm out, milks it out of himself.

And he comes a lot, painting his whole fucking hand white. He’d think it to be disgusting, but when he looks down at his hand, fuzzy from his blissed-out pupils, he sees that he’s covered his tattoos with cum. His army tattoo – the closest he’ll get to come on you. He curses at the sight, hates that it’s turning him on again and that his dick twitches, begging for more. But all he does is watch the cum – it covers the three first letters, but it’s slowly dripping towards the y, and soon the whole tattoo will be covered, like he fucking wishes your pussy would be covered with his cum, dripping with it. He’d finger you with it.

Fucking hell.

Jungkook gives in to the unrelenting desire once he’s in the shower, trying to clean himself. A single thought of your thick ass and the stretched fabric of your biker shorts sends him back to square one, and he jerks himself off again, fast and hard, his free hand leaning on the wall. He’s quick to shift and put his forearm against the wall instead, hiding his face in his arm. And then he imagines fucking you in this shower, taking you from behind as your ass cheeks shake from his ministrations. He imagines you trying to find purchase on the wall, your hands slipping until he pulls you back into his chest. He’d hold you tight, wrap a hand around your neck, and he’d find your clit with his other hand.

He’d make you come so fucking hard. All night long. He doesn’t think he’d let you even fucking walk out of his apartment. He’d fuck you seven days a week, wouldn’t even leave his bed.

This time, his release hits differently, not as strong. It still fills his blood with ecstasy, and his head swims as he watches his cum go down the drain. His hand, his tattoos, are mostly clean this time around, and he imagines them covered in your cum instead. In your sleek juices as he’d finger you, making you squirt everywhere…

He curses loudly, turning the shower to cold, immediately wincing as the water hits his back. But it’s the only way he thinks he’ll manage to chase his arousal away. Hell, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his fucking evening masturbating. Though it’d be worth it, and he’s fully aware that he’d be able to. He’d just need to think of you, and he’d be ready to go again.

But when he steps out of the shower, he decides otherwise. He decides to go live – are you watching him, from wherever it is that you live in this city? Do you know that you make him insane, so, so insane that he just came twice to the thought of you?

He smirks, watching the comments coming in even though he hasn’t said anything yet. They fly too fast for him to be able to read anything, but he knows.

He knows that you’re there, on the other side of the screen, watching him as he watches you. Where else would you be?

And he knows damn well that next time he’ll see you, he’ll talk to you. Fuck the rules, fuck the fact that you’re his fan. He needs to fuck you, to know what your pussy taste like and how you sound when you come.

So next time he sees you, instead of jerking himself off alone, Jungkook knows he’ll ask you to give a helping hand.

☆☆☆☆☆

Welcome to the land of sinning lmao hope you enjoyed this short ride! Let me know what you thought - it always motivates me to write more stuff like this ;)

#to give a helping hand #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #btswritersclub

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 5 months

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hii!! could i request a snow fic where she finds out she cheats on him and voluntarily tributes and hes trying to get her back? i loved the other fics!! I NEED MORE CHEATING SNOW FICS OMGG

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. || Young President!Coriolanus snow x district!reader

A/n: Sorry anon I hope you’re not disappointed that I didn't fully write your request. I wanted Coryo to lowk suffer in this which is why I didn't dive into details of him getting her back. There is also one scene that is heavily inspired by a scene in the movie Priscilla! I also spent so many hours perfecting this and it was super fun!!!

Warnings: fem!reader, implied infidelity, toxic!coriolanus, manipulation, not proofread, if there's anything else pls lmk!

Wc: 1609

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The rapid clicks echoed throughout the hallway, the sound reverberating off the 12-foot-high ceiling walls. You walk with an eager stride, each step filled with anticipation as you take the familiar route to Coriolanus' office where he spent most, if not, all of his time cooped up in due to the upcoming hunger games.

There was a heaviness in your heart. You have always been the epitome of grace and composure, a woman who played her role in the political theater with finesse, albeit your brief upbringing in district 2. However, behind closed doors, the truth unfolded, resulting in you heartbroken and most of all betrayed. You couldn't ignore the letters that would pile up weekly, the gifts, all for him, from someone by the name Lysandra.

Not bothering to knock, knowing it would provoke a reaction from him, you forcefully swung the double doors open. There sat Coriolanus Snow, seemingly unbothered at your entrance. "Is there a problem?" An icy, impersonal tone carried his words, sharp and emotionless.

Your nose flared as you felt a surge of frustration, his lack of concern and emotion fuelling your anger. Besides, you had never stormed into his office unannounced before. Surely, he would question your sudden abruptness and, visibly, your anger.

Your voice, though filled with a trembling resolve, posed the question, "Who is she?" You hold a letter between your fingers, lifting it up to show him. He lifts his head up from his papers. "And why on earth is she sending my husband gifts and-and love letters?" You stammer, throwing the piece of paper with writing and a kiss—in the form of a lipstick mark in a shade of deep red—on his desk; your façade crumbling at your feet.

Snow stares at you before a scoff leaves his lips, leaning back on his chair. "You know how the people admire me, it's likely that whoever it is, she's simply passionate about expressing her feelings to me," Coriolanus shrugs. Your eye twitches at his response. Lies.

"Really? Well, Lysandra is ever so passionate about expressing her undying love for you," You recite the words from her letter as you watch a subtle glint of knowing in his eyes, "She's the only one who has described her so-called affection for you so intimately!"

As you question your husband's loyalty, an unsettling quiet settles around him. His eyes, cold and calculating, hold yours without a trace of vulnerability. The absence of words from his lips becomes a formidable response, leaving an ominous uncertainty lingering in the air.

His office echoed with a tense hush, broken only by a subtle tapping of his fingers against the armrest in a rhythmic patter. "For god's sake, Coryo. Say something! Who is she?" The slip of his nickname makes you swallow.

"I won't entertain your accusation. She's merely an admirer, nothing more! Have you finished exhausting yourself with this matter, wife?" Coriolanus seethes, abruptly standing up as he gathers his papers, opens his drawer, shoves them in, and slams it shut with such force that you swore you felt it in your bones.

"Is there something your hiding from me?" There was a tense silence that followed your question, Snow's features contorted with a mix of frustration and defiance. Avoiding eye contact, he clenched his jaw and emitted a sharp exhale. The air was thick with unspoke tension, revealing an anger that simmered beneath the surface.

"I have nothing to hide from you," He says calmly but you knew damn well there was anything but calmness within him. Annoyed and frustrated at the lack of information, you open your mouth again.

'"Throughout our entire marriage, I have done nothing but showed you how grateful I am that you chose me to marry, a district girl. You helped me build a reputation here in the capitol so that I would finally be respected, and now, I ask just one simple thing of you," As you speak your voice wavers slightly, revealing the depth of emotion behind your words. "Who is she to you?"

In mere seconds, Coriolanus storms past you, a blur of motion, leaving you momentarily bewildered as you blink, only to find yourself in the same spot. "Coriolanus!" You yell, spinning around as you follow him. "I've just had about enough of you for today y/n," He spat as he briskly walked up stairs, you following him. Servants who were around hurriedly walk pass, heads down.

He steps into your shared private chamber, adorned with decadent furnishings and overlooking the Capitol. He walks a couple steps before he just stops. His breath came in heavy, rhythmic waves, his chest rising and falling with urgency, leaving you standing frozen at the entrance.

"You know, I think you should go see your family for a little while," He turns around as you felt your heart drop. "What?" Your voice echoed with a helpless tone. "You heard me, I think your family has been missing you in the districts, go pay them a visit. Tell them how grateful you have been that I chose you as the First Lady of Panem, hm?"

He takes purposeful strides to the next room, filled from top to bottom with expensive, lavish pieces of clothing befitting both him and you. Coriolanus then pulls out a travelling trunk. The thought of you going back to district 2 sent shivers up your spine. You knew that everyone there now thinks of you as a traitor.

"What- No- Coryo, I'm not going-" Coriolanus cuts you off with a yell, tears forming in your eyes, "I think you should! Matter of fact, I'll help you start packing." A loud noise comes from the trunk making contact with the floor making you jump, a sob leaving your lips. The trunk opening as he starts aggressively pulling your clothes from the black velvety hangers, tossing them into the trunk.

"Coryo- please. Don't make me go back there," You fall to you knees in front of the trunk as your shaky hands remove the pieces of clothing from it. "Yeah, well I think a few months in the districts, away from your lavish life here, will make you realise how easy it is that I can send you back there." He forcefully takes your chin in between his thumb and index as your glassy eyes stare back at his icy, raging, blue eyes.

"Please, please don't send me back there-" Your beg becomes interrupted as he drops his grip on you and yells out the door, "Simon! Get the train ready now for Y/n to go back home!" He calls out to his assistant who answers out a "Of course Mr. President," You let out another sob as you rest your head on the pile of clothing.

Coriolanus glances over his shoulder, his breaths lingering in the air, he could hear your quiet pleas. There's a yearning within him, a desire to approach you and envelop you in a reassuring hug, to tell your that everything is alright and that forgives you. Yet, and unyielding pride restrains him, holding him back from acknowledging that what he was doing was wrong.

With one final look, he turns around, leaving you in a crying mess. Coriolanus was going to send you back to district 2 until the hunger games finished, then, he would come get you and hope that your time there made you ponder your actions, although he knew they were quite reasonable.

Your allegiance to your husband shattered when you were forced onto the train, Coriolanus stood a couple metres away from you as you squirm in the peacekeeper's grips. As you made your way back to a place you once called home, a quiet determination settled within you as you hatched a plan that would not only expose Coriolanus' betrayal, but also allow you to reclaim a piece of your shattered identity.

As the Reaping day approached, you made a choice that sent shockwaves through the carefully orchestrated world of Panem. With a steady hand, you inscribed your own name on a slip of paper and placed it in the glass ball, committing yourself to the Hunger Games.

On the day of the Reaping, the Capitol Square buzzed with anticipation, the districts, not so much. Coriolanus, very much unaware of his wife's hidden actions, stood in front of the dignitaries on the stage.

The customary ceremony began, the escort pulls a slip pf paper from the glass ball, announcing the male tribute who would face the Capitol's twisted version of justice.

As the tension mounted, the escort unfolded a slip of paper and read aloud, "Y/n Snow." A gasp rippled through the crowd, and Coriolanus's face contorted with disbelief. Time seemed to free as he processed the shock of seeing his wife's name called out. Surely there was a mistake.

The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer, and anger boiled within him, mixing with the shock and confusion as the crowd erupted in whispers. A woman of Capitol elegance was now standing among the district 2 residents.

You weave through the rows of people, maintaining a stoic expression. As you step up on the stage, your eyes land on the camera a couple feet away from you where you know Snow was watching back in the Capitol.

Coriolanus stared at your face and in that moment, he saw the resolve and defiance that had replaced the hurt in your eyes. The Capitol, known for its love of spectacle, witnessed an unprecedented turn of events. Coriolanus Snow, the powerful President, was rendered speechless as his own actions came back to haunt him in the cruelest twist of fate.

#fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #coriolanus snow fanfiction #possesive!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #Coriolanus snow x district!girl #district 2 #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #hunger games #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games fanfiction #hungergamesx

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gothy-froggy · 9 months

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Astarion Headcanons

Fluff dating headcanons

This man deserves it. Astarion x Gn! Reader

(Bg3 Astarion spoilers?) + not proofread

As we know that Astarion is not used to this kind of treatment or care. For 200 years he used his body to lure people for his master. And was treated poorly on top of that. This is something he isn’t used to.

Small physical touch

A simple squeeze of the arm, putting a hand over his, Astarion craves for it.

They’re so simple, yet, holds so much meaning.

Such pure and innocent intentions behind them. Intimate, not sexually. Just so much emotion and such a strong connection from a simple touch.

He likes it.

Even a simple, quick or a lingering kiss is just so nice. Astarion has kissed, slept, and held many, but not like this. It’s quite exciting.

The feeling of his beloved’s finger softly running through his hair got a sigh of content out of Astarion. His eyes fluttered closed. The way the their fingers goes through his curls, barely scratching his scalp. It was peaceful.

This was peaceful.

“Star.” They whispered. Astarion opened his eyes. He sat up from laying on their lap, facing his partner. A shaky breath aired out as his eyes shut as they placed their hands on his cheeks, brushing along his jawline. No words were exchanged. None had to.

Their feelings, thoughts, and love for each other were so loud despite not one opened one’s mouth.

No words could describe how much they cared for another.

Astarion grew to return such acts with the intention and his feelings being present. It was difficult at first. It was…odd for him. It was either awkward in his mind, or the spiral to disgust and the feeling of tainted leaking through the cracks of his heart and mind, perhaps his soul at well.

But the reassurance from his lover always pulled him back.

Nicknames

The nickname given to him? Star. It was definitely a shock to him hearing that as his nickname. He can’t help but be a little flustered.

He loves it. Astarion would live for it. Astarion loved it even more once he figured out the reason why his lover calls him Star.

Of course, he calls his dear, love, treasure, other sweet pet names, but the one his love gave him doesn’t seem to be defeated.

The night was chilling as the stars twinkled, dancing in the moonlight. Astarion sat on a big rock with his lover. Their gaze focused on the balls of light in the dark sky. Astarion’s was locked onto them.

“Do tell, my dear. Why ‘Star’ as my nickname?” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Their eyes meets his, a small, gentle smile appearing on their face.

“Your name has star in it. A-s-t-a-r-i-o-n. Stars twinkle, they’re beautiful , like you.” Astarion let out a huff. Perhaps a small scoff.

“Well, I am beautiful.” A charming smile plastered over his face. His lover laughed, placing a hand over his as they leaned forward.

“You’re my star.” They whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Astarion paused, processing their words and the simple touches.

“You really are full of surprises.” Astarion whispered.

‘Their Star.’ He thought. It brought swirls of warmth inside his chest

Astarion’s love for the pet name Star becomes addictive. He gets slightly annoyed and disappointed when his partner doesn’t call him Star.

Hell, his treasure could even make him beg to be called Star if they wanted to.

It honestly irritates him how much he enjoys the silly little pet name. They really don’t hold much value or worth anything…or is that him and enslavement to Casador for centuries?

Nether the less, his love is here to show him what real is. What true love really is.

Perhaps the pet name is a spark of light for him.

His comfort (lover’s scent and warmth)

Nothing is more precious than holding someone with such passion. True passion.

Astarion struggled most on this. Surprising as it is, but the comfort involves holding someone. Being so close to their body with trust, letting your guard down,

But getting comfortable with having comfort is the most troublesome.

The fear of it being taken away becomes dread.

His nightmares are over, but they still plague his mind, making it hard to break through and open up. After a while, he did. He regrets not being able to break through before.

Whether it was a nightmare, or the utter crave of affection and his comfort, he always gets it. Astarion creeps into the tent, sliding an arm under his love’s, wrapped around their waist and pulling them close.

He presses his face into their neck, taking a slow and small sniff. Just smelling their scent, not just their blood, brought so much warmth and comfort. The warmth, the feeling of their body made all his stress move away. Astarion smiled to himself, pressing a lingering kiss on his lover’s shoulder, before whispering:

“Wherever you go, wherever you are..” Astarion paused, hesitant to continue as the fear and feeling of disgust creeps back in. Trying to pull him back to what he knows. Yet he fights it. The arm around their waist caused a small squeeze as he took a shaky breath before continuing.

“Is forever my home.” He whispered, forcing them out and choking over his words out.

“You are my true home.”

Maybe, just maybe, the fight for something new is worth it.

#fan fic writing #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion headcanons #bg3 x reader #fluff #astarion fluff

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merakidoll · 2 months

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≡;- ꒰ °𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲꒱

choso and yuki - the couple who was known for their love of turing people out. but maybe this time you turned them out.

warnings : chubby reader! bi yuki (DUH) - oral (f) kinda (m) as well! yuki’s high key obsessed with readers taste! spiting in mouths, kissing, hickeys. vaginal penetration (unprotected) don’t be like them. tribbing, reader has nipple piercings, don’t get it twisted with all this slutting out their doing yuki and choso are STILL in love! yuki real gay! fingering. pet names : precious, princess, sugar, mommy, daddy. lots of cumming - 17+

mirah note! : my first fic AHH! please let me know if you liked it, also thank you for 6k, mwah!🎀 3.1k words

s.w.i.n.g.e.r.s.

swingers. that was the perfect word to describe yuki and choso. they were in love, even a blind man could sense it, but they both craved excitement. while yes, their sex was amazing and passionate, all things that were love and lust. they loved the thrill of turning out someone new. pulling all of their tricks they were supposed to reserve for one another, and doing it to someone else. making them fall head over heels with a chilling orgasm, and tear bringing aftercare, and then leaving. just before they could open their eyes. an already pre written note saying “this was fun” with both of their names waiting on the hotel’s pillow.

and this one was no different … right?

you intrigued them by your pink aura - well clothing. but aura as well. you were so bubbly, bouncing in your seat as you took small sips of your sex on the beach, hair bouncing with each move as well as your breast; which is what the pair was staring at. the automatic arousal came when you turned slightly, and the two ball shaped imprints where right where your hardened nipples sat. that’s when yuki knew to go in. she went in as she usually did. “hi precious, i couldn’t help but see how pretty you looked tonight” her voice calming, making your thighs clench, your big eyes staring at the gorgeous women and mouth practically drying.

“o-oh?” yuki got closer, kissing your cheek that was caked with a sunset orange blush that complimented your melanated skin…. her red lip stick staining you, as if she was claiming her prey- which in a way she was. yuki always went in first due to her maternal nature. she was a sexy woman; a pretty figure with words that knew how to melt anyone on the spot. the sight of his lover making the pretty pink princess shudder in her seat made choso’s dick harden.

he has been hard, MANY times. but this sight ? how the moment between you two was as if it was only you two in the room, eyes staring deep into one another with the hot, sensual skin contact. that was different, he stopped his staring when your eyes met his. his heart stopped for a moment. a deep heavy breath passing his pierced lip, but he made it very unnoticeable. a slight wave with a charming smile that again visibly made you shake in yuki’s hands. “oh, you think he’s pretty precious?” she smiled convincingly, kissing your neck and taking a deep inhale in your vanilla scent. pussy throbbing at how delectable you would be to just eat up.

before you or choso knew it, you were getting walked to the exact place he was sitting. his heart pounded hard, sweat growing on his palms- but again he played it cool. irritation boiled in the lower pits of his stomach at wondering you had him this nervous. not only you, but his girlfriend. it was as if ten minutes with you already had her dominance peaking. she already exuded so much power now everyone was captivated by her and it made him nervously hard. but he understood why as soon as you were next to him muttering a small “hi”. god you made him want to stuff your cunt- and your smell, pre cum stained onto his calvin klien’s. pants getting so tight he felt like he couldn’t breath

“what a pretty thing” he said looking up from you to yuki who was still attached to you. her face imprinted in your neck, dark eyes looking up at choso and a hmm falling from her mouth. “wanna eat her up right pretty?”

choso didn’t respond, already ready to go, he wanted to make you feel so damn good. and the way you looked up at him didn’t help the situation. three adults with three clouded minds left the bar on a mission. it was uncertain when the steamy makes outs started. but you’re pretty sure it was in the cab.

yuki tilted your head back and whispred for you to open your mouth, and an unexpected moan from the slow drop of the man’s spit falling into your mouth then going right into a hot kiss almost had you cum on spot.

or on the elevator up to the hotel room, yuki trapping you against the hard body of choso, giving you sweet kisses that had you craving more. with your closed eyes, you moved forward to get another but was met with air. and if you weren’t being held, you would have fallen face first

“pay attention princess, you’ll get another soon,” he reassured when you started to pout ushering you out. you and choso watched yuki’s hips move as she walked to the room likeshe owned the place.

her hips swaying captivating you both, and it didn’t help when she turned around to catch you both in the act. her beautiful smirk taking you both out of a trances. “you guys coming?” walking into the room, the door open as if you were practically walking into a room of hungry lions.

you had expected this, but not in this good. this was way more than expected. you knew they were skilled in their area, knowing how to work one’s body until they fainted from all of the pleasure. it’s funny because that’s exactly what they’re doing to you.

they looked better naked, both having toned bodies that picked your curvy frame up like you weighed nothing. they tossed you around like their personal fuck toy and you were enjoying every moment. you had came once on their long slender fingers, and clit rubs with kisses as you laid in yuki’s arms like a princess. “tell him how good it feels sugar. awe my princess loves that cho!” choso smiled, moving his head to kiss your thick thighs moaning at how good your cum - coated, pussy smelled.

as soon as the first orgasm ended, the second began, yuki resting you onto the pillow and meeting her lover at the edge of the bed. you were confused. missing her warmth and a small “w-what” leaving your dry lips. you had missed the silent communication the two exchanged. so into cumming that it’s the only thing on your mind, and the add on praises wasn’t helping. but when a shared kiss came and it was directly on your cunt, you knew the night was only getting started.

“o-ohhh,” you cried, both of them draping one leg over their shoulder. their tongues working together, kissing and licking you pussy clean to watch it get messy again. choso and yuki were calculated on their movements. locking lips at any giving moment and the happy spot just so happened to be where your clit was. your legs shook again, the meat on your thighs jiggling while you tried your best to push them away and close your legs. but you had absolutely no control. you were too weak. yuki slapping your thigh with a muffled “don’t be bad” that you wish could have gone unheard but it didn’t and all you wanted to do was be good for them.

choso moved back with a glistening face, enjoying the view his girlfriend was providing. he noticed that you hadn’t even resonated the missing mouth. yuki taking all control and slowly making her way down to you pink hole that clenched in the cool air. he watched as your hand creeped its way down. grabbing ahold of her blond hair, and fucking her …tounge into you at your own pace. “y-yes! don’tstopppp! p-please” you begged while bobbing yuki’s head into your pussy and she let you, enjoying the moment, her eyes closed while her stomach churned wetness dripping on the floor.

she started to feel pleasure shoot through her body. choso taking the initiative to please her. fucking his fingers into her pussy and sucking her nipples. he watched how you screamed, moving faster wanting you both to cum together. he popped one of the hard buds out of his mouth moving to kiss her ear. “almost there,” he said, starting to scissor his fingers inside of her, her shaky body head still being bobbed and ears ringing, everything feeling so good; all it took was for you to clench down on her wet warm muscle, your nails digging into her scalp as your orgasms hit you- hard.

“OH! OHMYGODDUHHH” you shut your eyes tight while pushing her head away, not even seeing the beautiful sight of the woman cumming herself. she fell back onto choso, cream all over her face and cum in her mouth that she choked on from having too much going on with her body. choso watched you both lose your minds. as yuki came he still fucked his fingers into her, making her get so sensitive that when she finally stopped creaming all over his fingers and the floor, the room was silent. each woman needing a break. so he began to plot, eyes on you once he laid his love on the ground to catch her breath.

your were balled on the bed, hands holding your- what he could assume was a very sensitive cunt. he wonders if you thought they were done, if you thought you were leaving without being stuffed. yuki could practically tell what her boyfriend was thinking- and she herself was thinking the same thing just needed to regain her energy. gently tapping his thigh she looked in his eyes and nodded. oh, how you were so oblivious to the fun just not starting. “you okay?” he walked over to you, getting on the bed. you hummed with a mind still foggy, pussy throbbing intensely.

“words princess” his voice low and commanding that you opened you watery eyes and mumbled “y-yes daddy” making him groan. it not helping his hard cock that stood right on your face begging to be touched. this was your first time seeing it for tonight. while he wasn’t very long, choso had girth; the type to stretch you like you’ve never been stretched before and if he knew how to work it right, make it go so deep. and it’s choso we’re talking about - of course he knew how to.

“can you handle more” he slyly asked using the pads of his thumb to wipe off the mascara streak and cursing to himself at how pretty you looked; just like a fucked out princess. he has taken away your thought of asking where the women went. preparing yourself for yet another orgasm that was going to take much more out of you than the other two. his instructions were clear: sit on your knees in front of him. and you did just that, taking the little time that you had to look for yuki who was no where to be found. your heart tingling a little at not seeing her, wanting both of their attention. but when choso started to suck on your neck, you had forgotten about your train of thought.

whimpering and tilting your head so he could do more, he noticed your actions, licking from the mark he just created to his next one. “naughty girl,” his words went right to your core. where he slowly spread your legs and dipped his hand down to see if you were wet enough to take him- he already knew the answer. when your slimy juice dripped into his palm, he moaned against you, spreading your legs wider and putting his cock in between you. you back was against his chest, his nipples rubbing over your skin felt amazing. you could feel his cock rub between your walls; mouth opening in a silent cry when the tip of him touched your bud. “you ready beautiful? because god am i ready to ruin you”

“y-yes! yes please daddy” the name sent electricity throughout his body, his rough hands turning your head to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his lips as your tongues danced around each others. his tip poking at your hole and pushing in, the fat head stretching you so much that you’re moaning loudly in his mouth. “that’a g-girl” he groaned, shutting his eyes while still kissing you, taking it deeper as your pussy took him deep all the way until you met the base. everything felt so full, a small print in your chubby tummy and choso gripping your love handles to pull you back onto him.

you breast jerking from his rough yet soft thrust. “feel good, baby?” he watched your face scrunch and your body shake and all it took was one little plunge. you were dizzy, brain going back to this cumcumcum state where all you could fathom was feeling good. he started slow, sliding his hand to wrap around you throat, gently squeezing the area and making you clench a patch of cream going around him. once you started to scream, “m-more! harder daddy” he did that for you - after all you were his princess.

you pussy felt so good, like the best warm hug after a crying session. except this time the warm hug is what had him crying. choso has fucked a lot of pussy, and ass because he was a women and man catcher. but nothing could compare to yuki or you for that matter. the way you both squeezed down on him, taking his dick just right. he fit like a glove in not only her - but you. and it was questionable if he would really want to give this up.

even with pumping his cock into and fucking you like the slut that you are, he longed for the dynamic that was three - you, yuki, and himself had. he questioned where she was missing her presence and all of his thinking subsided when she crawled on the bed like an animal hunting her prey- you

her eyes were darker, ready to taste the juicy pussy again. when yuki had disappeared she made her way to the bathroom cursing herself at how the taste of pussy, and choso amazing fingers had her losing her mind. the two lovers not knowing they were fighting the same internal battle- and that was not wanting to leave you. the sight that she walked out to after getting herself together had heat gushing to her core. she could hear your begs and moans, whimpers and pleads of you wanting to be fucked. but she wasn’t expecting the sight to look so damn pretty. the prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

she knew that you didn’t see her or feel her get onto the bed, and the look she gave choso told him to not mention it. laying beneath you she could see the way his cock fucked you. she could see how deep he was, how your hole took him in so well making a mess. she found the displayof your pussy taking his cock so ethereal that it would be cruel to not at least give where you both met a kiss. she moved her face close sticking her tounge out to catch the juices that splattered everywhere when you met his base. with once he moved out a little, she kissed your pussy and licked up to his cock. “y-yuki! fuck” choso’s voice cried his body shaking, his orgasm so close. “c-cum p-please!” you asked as fresh tears falling from your eyes, you pussy getting sensitive and the duo of getting fucked and licked made you feel faint.

what you both thought was one time because multiple, yuki going back to eating your pussy and occasionally licking choso, watching how he got sloppy with his thrust and you couldn’t stop clenching. “i’m t-there baby! fuck i’m there … c- cum with me, hm?” his breath grew short, his balls feeling full to the point they hung lower than before. “g-gonna stuff this cunt,” he closed his eyes seeing stars “g-gonna give you p-pretty babies and make y-you stay w-with me and y-yuk- SHIT!” he yelled when she kissed one of his veins. yuki listened to his words, her pussy juices getting on the already filthy bed, enjoying the day dream of what’s he was saying.

and you were too. the idea of having their babies being theirs could only make you say “IMCUMMINGGG!” yuki didn’t move when you squirted all over her face, the mixture of choso cum too because, god, you were tightening around him too much that he couldn’t hold back. she let the messy wetness pour down on her, moaning to the taste like the best forbidding fruit and she wanted to have it all the time. she never knew she loved eating pussy that much until tonight. until you blessed her with your sweet nectar. now she feels you’re the only source that will help her survive.

choso pulled out, both of you falling on the bed. she took that time to do her final bid - to finally break you, making you cum one last time. your blurred vision moaned when her wet cunt met yours. “m-mommy” you said, bitting your lip “i-i can’t take ittt” you hiccuped when she started to hump into you. your messy cunts rubbing together and creating the best rhythm. choso wasn’t shocked, he knew his girlfriend had a thing for tribbing, calling it “the finale stretch” in this night long love making with their person of the night.

but instead of going rough as she usually did, she went soft, kissing your lips and praising how much she loved your cunt. now, you were theirs, and he didn’t feel upset, enjoying the show because all of their marks of claims were true. they had no intention on leaving you after a night like this. you teared up, your cunt sensitive and your next orgasm just two more humps away. you kissed yukis soft lips as your pussy came again. she could feel the gush of you get on her. how your clit rubbed against her fold just right, and you pretty little cries of “m-mommyc-cum!cumm” made her let go. god, she loved when you called her mommy.

when she lazily fell beside you, you instantly curled into their warm embraces falling into a deep sleep. usually the two would make their person stay up for aftercare; but this time, they opted for a quick clean and cuddled, already planning this new life with you. and they were gonna show you the best aftercare when the sun rose and they didn’t feel exhausted. because you were different.

the sun crept through the draped curtains, hitting choso who felt a cool sheet beside him first. he instantly sat up, seeing his girlfriend laying next to him. but not you.

instead, what was on your pillow waiting for them was a note, and a thong.

“this was fun! thanks xoxo”

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leascorner · 4 months

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b.b. | With child

Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader

Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.

Words Count: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!

“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.

Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.

His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.

You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.

He did not mind, or so he thought…

Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.

Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.

The ride home that night was particularly quiet.

Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.

On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.

He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?

He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.

When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.

Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.

Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.

“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.

Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.

You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.

Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.

He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.

He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.

He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.

In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.

All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.

It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.

“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.

“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.

He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:

“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”

“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”

“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.

It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.

“My love, this is not your fault.”

“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.

“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”

“Ben, of course, no!”

“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.

You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.

He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.

“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”

“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.

Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.

“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”

“Ben, of course, I want your children!”

Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.

If he could not tell you, he could still show you…

Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.

“We should just take some time away from here.”

“What do you mean? The season only began-”

“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”

Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.

His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.

“France, it is then.”

Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.

One of the many to come.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader #lea's writing #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

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etheries1015 · 3 months

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The moment Vil fell in love with you, was one of the most vulnerable moments he had ever experienced. It was something that had caught him completely unawares, and never thought he'd fall for someone, much less the prefect of ramshackle.

Spoilers for the end of book 6, if you have not gotten that far.

The ride back to NRC from the island of woe was an exhausting one, to say the least. Everyone was groaning in mild annoyance at Vils sobbing at his now olden state, a wrinkled face with sunken cheeks and grey hair...something he feared more than anything in the world. Nobody actually blamed him, though, for anybody else would react as strongly to see their youth stripped away without even the hint of getting back their original form. Ugly, old, and gross, are all words Vil would go on to describe himself. You felt pity for him of course, but you were just as exhausted as everyone else.

Vil watched you in surprise as you stood up in a sleepy haze, wobbling to the (now) old man and cupping his sunken cheeks into your lively hands.

"Vil," You said sternly, the suddenness of your actions causing him to bite back his sobs for merely a moment.

"What you did for us today," You said with confidence in your tired eyes, "Was the most heroic thing I have ever seen. That was the bravest, most selfless act you could have possibly done, and I truly admire you for it, Vil." Your stern eyes softened with a smile mixed with pity and admiration, unconciously stroking his cheek with your thumb in attempt to sooth his trembling figure.

"We will find a way to get your body back. I understand this is a lot, but you need to hold onto faith." Your hands squished his cheeks together in a teasing and playful manner, purposefully causing him unable to respond verbally. Vil simply nodded, and you continued with passion raising your tone of voice.

"Right now, in my eyes, you are the most beautiful person with the biggest heart of gold I've ever met." You leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, something that drew him back with widened eyes. "Now, you must be incredibly tired from all the fighting we did. Try and rest, okay? You need it." He wanted to tell himself you were simply feeding him words of comfort in order to cease his persistent whining, yet with such confidence dripping with every word and small gesture you had no reason for engaging in, that was how he knew you were genuine.

How could you be so willing to kiss him when he looks like...that? How can you call him beautiful when all he sees are wrinkled hands and spotty skin? The word "heroic" also stuck out to him. Years of being played the villain, always unable to make it to the end of a movie, being discarded as the "bad guy," yet here you were, calling him...your hero. His heart skipped a beat and he could feel heat rise to his cheeks. There's no way you of all people could make him feel so...conflicted.

Yet there you were, with stringy sweaty hair, scratches, bruises, mud riddling your skin from hours of fighting for the world. He noticed how his dorm outfit lay in tatters on your body, and bags under your eyes were apparent as you so shamelessly yawned and sat next to him, falling asleep as you leaned up against his shoulder. This was the brazen prefect of Ramshackle- someone with flaws, attitude, and a disastrous display.

Yet at this moment, all he could think about was just how beautiful you looked, too.

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insomniumstella · 8 months

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baby, she's all yours

bucky x fem!reader

warnings: free use (consent to be "used" anytime & anywhere), explicit language, fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), a sprinkle of degradation, a sprinkle of breeding kink, dom!bucky, public sex, light spanking, daddy kink (i should be stopped). this one is bad, so it goes without saying, but MDI

word count: 1,240

author's note: this is a lil' story in celebration of kinktober, which time won't permit me to participate in, but my thoughts always wanted to. ➼ sharp, but oh so gentle

James was hesitant to explore the concept you described as free use at first, and maybe a fraction scared. The two of you had been dating for close to three years, and though things were great, the idea of you introducing free use into the bedroom days after knife play troubled him. His heart has always been heavy with the notion of being too difficult to love and too bothersome to deal with, but you made him feel enough; more than. Special in public when you would proudly hold his hand, and special in the comfort of plush sheets when you would let him cherish you — use and mould you into a drooling mess, obeying every demand. Was proposing a fresh kink a silent plead to advise him you have gotten bored?

As it turned out, it was. Kind of. The itch beneath your skin urging you to explore foreign waters wasn’t boredom but rather lust. Fiery hot and addicting type of lust that ignited every nerve ending in your body around him. Still does. Introducing Bucky to free use was the best—and the most deliciously infuriating—thing to soothe your constant yearning for his touch.

It caught you off guard, the first time he complied with the request. Steve had recently purchased an apartment in Brooklyn and organised a small housewarming celebration. You slipped out of the living room and into the kitchen once your glass turned empty, oblivious to the very needy pair of eyes studying you. The music muffled your soft moans then, as James fingered you against the blonde’s new refrigerator, suffocating the whines his thick fingers caused with passionate kisses.

The second time it happened, it was winter. Powdery layers of snow covered the entirety of New York City, and, as the sun laid to rest for the evening, the streets seemed magical. James and you were rushing to Natasha’s birthday dinner, stopping by Bergdorf Goodman for a last-minute gift. Time around holidays is always strenuous, but the missions almost doubled last year, rustles of a deadly biochemical weapon dampening the joy of Christmas and stealing your attention away from getting Natasha a gift early. Bucky tackled the three bottom floors whilst you handled the other three, scouring the variety of fine jewelry and designer clothing. As fate would have it, a gorgeous sequinned dress piqued your interest, the colour of it overly harsh for the redhead’s complexion but perfectly complimenting to yours. James practically pleaded for you to model it, assuring nobody would notice you being late a minute or two. Desire waltzed in his eyes when you agreed at last, twirling around to present the garment and flaunt how well it flattered your curves. He shoved the two of you into the private dressing room once the sales associate disappeared to bring out a pair of matching heels, closing the curtains and hiking the dress up to your waist. “Be good for me,” he spoke, undoing his zipper and slipping the tip of his cock into your dripping heat, “you wouldn’t want employees to hear us, would you, doll?” You couldn’t think of the gift you ended up buying Natasha, but you can still remember sobbing into Bucky’s hand as his hips feverishly snapped into yours.

Sometimes, that particular memory makes you wonder if introducing James to free use was a mistake — you’d be lying if you said it was because the thrill of being played with at times you least expect is exhilarating. The agreement caused many risky scenarios, though. There was that instance of Bucky between your legs, lapping at your core during a video call with your sister. The wooden desk shielded him from view as he relished you, but the grimaces on your features were a smidge more difficult to camouflage. “You taste incredible, baby,” Bucky mumbled, flesh and metal hands gripping the softness of your exposed thighs, before eagerly licking your clit. “Couldn’t ever get enough of this pussy.” You inadvertently moaned thrice during the call, disguising the sinful sounds by feigning coughs and attributing your strange demeanour to a common cold. “Tell her the truth,” James teased then, slipping a metal digit inside your needy hole, and you sneakily slapped his shoulder. The unsuspecting woman on screen continued to babble about her upcoming visit as you hit the mute button on your computer because the man below you had zero intentions of easing up. “Can feel you squeezin’,” he groaned, slipping a couple more of his metal digits inside. “Please end the call, peach, so I could fuck you atop this desk already.”

There was also the time he got annoyed on a road trip, freeing his cock and guiding your head downward to silence your complaints about his driving on unpaved roads. “Be a good girl and put that mouth to better use,” he grunted as you licked drops of pre-cum off his skin. “Na uh, doll,” with his left arm on the steering wheel, James forced the entirety of his length into your mouth, “we ain’t got time for any foreplay shit right now.”

Furthermore, introducing him to free use is the reason for your current predicament — being bent over the sink at a local bar with Bucky balls deep inside you.

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart.” James praises, catching your gaze in the grimy mirror before spanking your velvety hips. “My girl’s such a slut for me, letting me play with her in a random pub’s bathroom.” It’s more of an observation than dirty talk, and you bite back a moan, nodding. “Bet you’re always thinking about daddy’s big cock, wishing you could be bursting full of me forever, aren’t you?” A harsh spank lands on your scorching skin when you don’t immediately answer. “I asked you a question, peach.”

“Yes,” you sob, digging your manicured nails into the base of your palm. “Love it—,” another wail slips past your swollen lips, “love it when you use me, daddy.”

The pace of his hips slamming into yours remains brutal as he studies your expression in the mirror. “Look at you,” he clutches your chin, the slight pain of it forcing you to peel your eyes open, “my baby’s so fucked out, she’s having trouble speaking.” The steady pulse of your approaching orgasm heightens as Bucky admires the whimpering mess that is you, leaning lower until the slight stubble on his jaw tickles your ear. “Should I let you finish, or should I leave you all desperate and stuffed full of my cum until happy hour’s over?”

“Please,” you plead, “I’m so close.”

“That’s too—,” James chuckles through a groan as his own orgasm bursts in syrupy waves, “—bad.” The rhythm of his movements falters and then stops, and if tears weren’t streaming down your face already, you would’ve cried at the loss of contact, feeling terribly empty without Bucky to keep you warm. Though you don’t say a word to him, he can sense your frustration, the weight of your emotions lingering in the atmosphere around you. Slithering his metal hands between your legs, he pushes the cum that leaked out back inside you, thrusting a couple times to soothe your disappointment before withdrawing his touch and shoving your discarded panties into the pocket of his jacket. “Don’t let it drip out if you want a reward when we get home.” A lazy grin stretches across his features. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female!reader

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yzzart · 6 months

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we need more tom and y/n interviews! and if you can and want, can you write an interview where they're answering fan questions? ❤️

"According to fan questions..."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: invited for another interview, you and Tom answer some questions that fans asked you.

word count: 1.095!

"Are we really cliché?" — Tom questioned, looking down, probably getting distracted by a fixed point, and then raised his eyes to you. "Hm, let me see…" — You crossed your legs, holding your elbow with one hand and the other rested on your chin, pretending to think of a promising answer and your boyfriend's laugh exclaimed in your ears. "Oh, yes, we are!" — Your voices rose together at the same time and more laughter settled in the decorated and comfortable room.

"Hi, i'm Tom Blyth." — Tom introduced himself, raising his eyebrows, in an inviting and dynamic way; quickly, turning his head with a shy smile in your direction for your introduction.

"And i'm Y/N!" — The brit's smile widened when your eyes met his.

"And we're here to answer some questions asked by you, the fans." — He explained, looking at the camera and, again, at you; it was, technically, impossible not to be excited about what was to come and even more so because of the suspense of the questions that would be presented.

The questions were about random topics, of course and obviously, you could expect anything. — From behind the scenes to your personal tastes, but, without going beyond the limit. — In fact, it would be fun.

During the editing of the video, frames and excerpts of the questions would probably be shown; making it more explained and organized. — For you and Tom, the people who were working behind the cameras said and repeated the questions.

The first was… — "What was the best thing about this movie?" — Referring to "The ballad of songbirds and snakes."

"The best thing about film was working with Y/N." — He responded quickly, making his british accent even stronger and moving his fingers; you laughed, feeling your cheeks burn a little.

"Ah, the best thing about this film was working with…" — You made sure to form a suspense, having fun with your boyfriend who tilted his head towards you, waiting for your enthusiastic answer. — "…Tom Blyth!"

Tom could no longer contain his bold and bright smile, even biting his lips, and poking your leg with his hand; passing your through the delicate and fascinating fabric of the clothes chosen for the interview. — You tried to pay attention and look for words to extend your answer.

"I guess i can also include how fantastic it was to work with Francis Lawrence…" — You continued. — "…and it's impossible, really, impossible to find words to describe how magnificent it was and acting in a Hunger Games movie was like a dream." — Tom listened with attention and passion, focusing on every word that came out of his mouth. — "The connection we had with the cast was something so precious, they are the best people in the world." — And it was the purest truth. — "Not to mention how intense it was to live in my character."

It was a dream, strongly, fulfilled and conquered for you; and a sentimental wave, of the purest emotion, weakens when seeing what, in fact, you has achieved and won around you. — How many incredible, sweet and important people have come into your life and will remain in it; and you had no words to explain how grateful you were.

Including having met Tom in your life. — God, you could say how grateful you were to have him for hours and hours, reaching the long duration of the video.

"Oh, yes." — Tom leaned on the back of the chair, settling in a little. — "I think playing Coriolanus was, like, really deep and steady because we're talking about a guy who has two faces and acting him being really good knowing that later he will turn into something evil." — He thought about his words. — "But, it was good working with him, on him and with the blonde wig...." — You laughed, together with the people behind the cameras.

The second question was… — "Were there many recording errors?"

"Oh yeah!" — Laughing and shaking your head in affirmation, you responded, ready to recall various behind-the-scenes moments and factors. — "There were so many that i can't name just one or two." — You said. — "But, one of my favorites, and i think they already posted it, was during the harvest scene and Tom was laughing nonstop at Peter."

"Please, everyone was laughing!" — He stuttered. - "Including you!" — You supported your hand on his arm. — "He was funny, the way his character spoke was funny, so i couldn't concentrate properly." — Tom reported looking at the camera, remembering the aforementioned moment and laughing; joining with you. — "One of my favorites was all the times you called me by my name." — He directed his head towards you, who placed a hand on his face.

Not many times, at most, just three times; garnering laughs and recordings from the cast and film crew. — Rachel had already posted two videos where you end up getting confused, a little nervous, and calling your boyfriend by his name. — A normal thing, it didn't need exaggeration or a big alert.

"Come on, it was only three times." — The softness, almost embarrassed, of your voice ran through Tom's ears; he removed your hand from your face and picked her up, giving your a brief caress and admiring the rings that were present. — "And i remember Josh and Hunter called me a loverbird."

"I ended up forgetting this fantastic little detail." — Tom commented.

The third question, — "Is it true that Y/N is going to act in 'Billy, the kid'?"

"In my dreams, yes!" — You crossed your arms, dramatically, and faked a frown for the camera. — "I've already asked a lot, and at least to be part of the supporting actors or just to appear for at least nine seconds!" — Tom laughed and you moved your shoulders, wanting to keep your face serious. — "Do you think i'm joking? I'm not!"

"You really aren't, sweetie." — The oldest confirmed. — "Please, Michael." — He mentioned the director. — "Even i'm begging for it."

And the fourth question... — "What word would you describe each other?"

"I think defining you in just one word is one of the most complicated jobs for me." — Tom's hand removed some kind of stubborn thread, which was stuck in his clothes. — "Is it really just a word?" — He turned, towards the people who worked behind the cameras, who confirmed his question. — "The word enchanting fits you easily."

Blyth leaned back on the back of the chair again, but now leaning his body towards your; facing you completely. — His deep, exuberant blue eyes meet, for the countless time, with yours in that interview. — And your lips formed into such a beautiful smile, shyly showing your teeth against his answer.

You fell in love once again with Tom Blyth, in a full interview.

"Thank you, my love." — The attempt to hide your face and an embarrassed voice failed completely. — "The first thing, word that comes to my mind that can define you is fascinating." — Tom pursed his chin, listening carefully. — "Because everything about you is fascinating and manages to leave me speechless, most of the time, and captivate me too." — Now your boyfriend's arm was holding the back of your chair. — "Everything, everything about you fascinates me and even the discreet gray strands that must be growing in your hair."

"Excuse me?" — Tom questioned, with his mouth open and not expecting your last words, and looked at the camera with a surprised look; already you were laughing at his euphoric reaction, clapping your hands on your knees and almost slouching in your chair.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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vacayisland · 6 months

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LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Floyd x Motherly! Reader

Species and gender your choice- I’m just seeing reader is sweet, calm, mature. Calls everyone baby- always helpful. Maybe Floyd and reader are already dating? And reader calls Floyd the most embarrassing nicknames(sugarplum), number one fan-maybe some mortica vibes? Idk! You have fun with this one

@!; oh, Oh... Floyd / Motherly! Reader

"Summary"! Floyd loves you for many reasons, too many to count on his fingers or toes; too many to remember in one sitting when he's asked that simply question 'what do you love above them?'; too many to make a list of that won't expand pages and pages. Yet, he knows what he loves the most about you; you complete him in the best ways possible. "Tags"! say it with me... fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!, not proof read either :(

@!; Floyd knew you before he got captured by Veneer and Velvet. He knew you from his travels around the world in an attempt to find himself after the group broke up. He actually found you in Lonesome Flats, despite not being a country troll (or maybe you were), leaning against the window inside a western building. You had been talking to Delta with such a bright smile, Floyd couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it; noticing to dimples on your cheeks, the way your eyes lit up as you spoke, and the passion in your voice. It was intoxicating. It drew him in. So hesitantly, he kept his distance but kept near your little building. He didn't mean to ease drop, yet he overheard your conversation: "So, anyone catch ya' eye yet, sweetheart?" Delta's country twang was more noticeable every time she decided to tease you about this subject. You knew she only wanted to see a reaction out of you. Though you couldn't help but smile at her, wafting off the scent of a plum pie you had just finished. "No, not yet, Ma'am." Your voice was soft, a subtle hum to it that Floyd had caught. It made him choke up a bit, though he tried not to focus on that feeling. "Aw, come on, pickin's ain't that slim." Delta chuckled as she crossed her arms, grinning back at you. "And I know many fine Trolls who wouldn't waste takin' you out for dinner... and maybe some wilder ones who would take ya to a rodeo show."

And she winked, causing you to shake your head as you maintained your smile and composure. Despite being teased, Floyd could only describe you as calm and relaxed. Your shoulders weren't stiffened and you didn't crinkle your nose at anything Delta said; it was like her words didn't effect you, yet you were listening intently and responding to her accordingly. "Oh, yes Ma'am. I know that." As you softly laughed at Delta's attempted, you tested the pie's temperature and deemed it cool enough to cut. You took your knife and began to slice the pie into 12 even pieces. "Then let me set ya' up with someone!- Thank you, darlin'." You handed Delta a slice of pie as she spoke, knowing plum was her favorite. Quickly, you searched for a fork and then handed that to her too. She continued, "A pretty gal such as yourself shouldn't have to be kept waitin', though you do deserve your perfect someone." Oh, so you were a baker? Floyd noted that to himself, noticing that the pie that Delta was munching on as you spoke seemed to have some personal touches. Such as some honey baked into the plums, the crust being a little more golden than pies in the Pop Troll village, as well as some sugar that had crystalized at the top. It looked delicious... and it made his stomach growl. Floyd didn't think his stomach actually growled, he didn't catch it. Thus he was both startled and confused when you turned your attention over to him, your soft eyes matching the soft nature you carried yourself. "Are ya' hungry?" Floyd covered his stomach with his arm, a bit self conscious as you called him out. But he didn't feel called out; in an odd way he felt seen. Delta soon turned her attention over to Floyd while taking a bite of the pie. She held up the plate with a grin, "Come on, don't be shy, bumpkin'! Our Miss (Y/N) is the best baker in town and you won't find talent like this; She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is." "Oh, um.. okay." Floyd walked over to the window, noticing how your grin grew slightly larger and your eyes seemed to catch this sparkle in them. You grabbed him a plate, a slice of pie, and a fork almost instantly and placed it on your window ceil for him. "Here ya' go!" Service with a smile. Yet Floyd patted his pockets, and even dug around in them, for something to give you in exchange for the generous slice of pie. He fell short, "Oh- um, I don't have anything-" "Oh don't worry about payment, sugarplum!" Your words caught Floyd off guard, his round eyes shot up to meet yours. "Baking is just a hobby, I don't ask for anything in return; well, other than friends with full bellies and big grins. Seeing people enjoying my baking is enough payment for me." Floyd had kind of believed in love at first sight; but he didn't realize it actually could happen.

@!; Sometime after Floyd first meeting you and before he got captured, Floyd had confessed his feelings to you. Confessed that he had loved you since he saw you that first day when you gave him a plum pie. Confessed that he adored everything about you; he adored your laugh and your smile; he adored the way you worried about him, but not in an overpowering way, the way you always were there for him, the way that he could come back to you at the end of the day and you will be waiting with open arms. He adored the way you mothered him a little. Not in the way a mother would actually mother their children, yet in the way you were so caring and compassionate, while being sensible and calm made his heart beat out of his chest. You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. He loved you so much it hurt him more to imagine what you were going through when he had gotten captured by Velvet and Veneer. It was complete anguish to think about you sitting on the couch by the door in the little home you two made, waiting for him to only go on days without anything to report. It choked him up to think he could be the reason you were hurting at this moment. But he just hoped you could wait a little longer, hold out a little more, (you always had managed to, though it burns him to think to ask this of you) for him; and he will take everything just to be able to return back home to you again at the end of the day. One day. one day. Until that day, please.. please hold out. Please don't cry like he is.

@!; The day that Floyd was rescued by his brothers, and Poppy and Viva, after the initial shock wore off his first and only thought was you. It filled his head and he couldn't ignored the thoughts that piled up because everything in his body was screaming for you. For your touch and comfort and he couldn't help but blurt out, "We need to go to Lonesome Flats. Now!" Which got a lot of weird looks from his brothers; mainly Clay, Spruce, and JD looking around wondering what and where 'Lonesome Flats' was while Branch was just plain confused, maybe even a little hurt. Floyd didn't mean to hurt Branch, or any of his brothers by this request, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay. "The country troll region?" Poppy questioned as she walked over to Branch's side. She tilted her head to the side, "Why do you need to go there?" "Yeah! Why do you need to go there? We just got you back, Floyd." Branch seemed stand-offish by this request, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose a little. Floyd understood where Branch was coming from, he did almost just die in front of all his brothers, but surely they would understand? "Please, just trust me. I.. I need to get back there." Floyd pleaded with his brothers, "I'll explain everything there or on the way. We just- we need to go now! The sooner the better.." And despite everyone's confusion, and unsureness about this all, it was a family road trip to Lonesome Flats. Where, when they finally arrived, Floyd rushed out of the van towards your little bakery. He slowed a bit seeing the window shut and your door not propped open. His eyes widened when he read the sign attached: Closed. But it was your usual opening time, what.. where were you? "There ya' are!" Floyd wiped around hearing Delta's voice. He didn't catch her unfriendly tone at first, though registered it as soon as he caught her face. Still, that didn't stop him, "Delta! Where is (Y/N)?" "More important, where have you been? You've been gone longer than our grazin' cattle, and they returned a month ago!" Delta crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "You've got your poor-" Though Delta didn't make it far before Floyd saw an all too familiar person out of the corner of his eye. You always managed to steal his attention, and his brothers were even more confused upon seeing Floyd rush over to you; despite stumbling a little bit on his starting sprint due to the lack of energy he has. "Floyd!" Branch called after his brother, just wanting him to be careful. Yet he froze upon feeling Poppy's hand on his shoulder, hearing a small 'aww' escape her lips as she watched Floyd literally jump into your arms. You had noticed him as he ran towards you, and despite carrying a bucket of fresh milk, you dropped it quickly to catch him. Which, was a good idea, since you didn't expect him to cause you to stumble a little. Even so, you laughed as Floyd hid his face in your shoulder feeling your arms tightly hug him. Your hugs were always warm, best described as momma bear hugs. Floyd had missed them and you. He had missed your warmth and your laugh.

"Oh Sugarplum, what happened?" And he missed your gentle nature and calm tone, despite everything he probably put you through after he left. You were gentle as you placed your hands on his shoulders and backed him up a little, so you were looking at each other eye to eye. Floyd couldn't even get a word out before you noticed everything different about him, "Oh my dear.. you look tired! Skinner, and your hair-! Oh my lord, what in the Trollstice happened to your hair, Sugarplum?!" Floyd now had his back facing you, as you had spun him around. Oh, Floyd could just melt at this moment, feeling your hands run through his hair as you took in all the whites that now mingled with the hot pink. He knew you were more used to his darker roots, and not like these whites were natural but he thought they suited him a little more now. Though, just as Floyd was about to answer you, he caught sight of his brothers and the plus ones. And at that moment, wide wide, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his brothers...

@!; It wasn't like Floyd was embarrassed of you, far from it, yet when you had him up and about dancing to Brozone.. it caused his cheeks to flush; from both embarrassment and lovingly. It had been a few months after he introduced you to the family, and he was glad his brothers had taken to you like he did and accepted you into the family. Branch was a little on the nose, but he came around.

Now, after a Brozone featured show, the both of you were dancing like crazy people to an old Brozone soundtrack in Poppy's pod. Poppy was trying to get Branch to dance with her while Clay was trying not to give into Viva's silliness.

Bruce was sitting on some chairs with JD, chatting and making fun of the younger brothers; as it was their bug brother duty to.

"Are you tired yet, sugarplum?" JD snickered as he called over to Floyd and you, his hand cupped to the side of his mouth to allow his voice to carry over the record player. Floyd grumbled a little at his brother's antics and tried to chuckle it off, maybe even shoot something back.

Yet he didn't even have to!- "What's wrong with me calling him Sugarplum, John?" Oh. Poppy paused in her pursuit and glanced over to JD with pressed lips and wide eyes, a silent question of what did he just do?

Clay and Branch both seemed to stop as well, Viva being soon to follow. Since meeting, you had never called anyone by their name. It had always been some cute nickname, such as baby or love or princess. Something motherly that made people's hearts warm upon hearing the nickname roll off your tongue with such affection and ease.

Even Floyd has barely ever heard you call anyone by their first name, that was unless they were in trouble. He decided to turn down the record player a little, just so you didn't have to talk over the music.

"Nothing!-" JD put up his hands at once, "It's just-"

"Just what? You wanna tease my darlin' for my decision in calling him sugarplum? Aren't you supposed to be the eldest brother?" You kept Floyd's hands in yours as you cocked an eyebrow up at JD, your eyes narrowing in his direction. Bruce had turned away, silently drinking his milkshake.

"No of course not-" JD started again, though didn't get far before you flashed a bright smile at him.

"Phew! For a second you have me worried there, dumplin'. Thought you were really striking that low!" And JD stared at you and your sudden switch of mood, wondering if he was seeing things or if he wasn't going insane. Either or, you gave Floyd a kiss on the forehead and turned your attention back to him.

"You still have the energy to dance with me, Sugarplum?"

And Floyd swore he fell deeper in love with you, if that was even possible at this point. "With you? Always."

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#floyd trolls #brozone x reader #floyd trolls x reader #floyd x reader #brozone #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #trolls fandom #trolls brozone #clay trolls #branch trolls #john dory trolls #viva trolls #spruce trolls

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chrollohearttags · 8 months

Text

kinktober day nine

character: connie springer

show: attack on titan

kink: anal

word count: 1.9k

content + themes: sex toys (rose, spreader bar, butt plug, anal beads, etc), spit play, fingering, squirting + creaming, choking, reader calls him daddy and papi, baby oil, creampie in a, he is so fucking vocal my goodness, rapper connie/hairstylist reader bc I haven’t written for them in a while.

📝: I hope y’all are still fucking with my kinktober posts. Even though I’m a little delayed with them.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

dating a rapper was not something for the weak. It was one thing you had heard constantly since your time, working as a hairstylist in the heart of Miami. In a city filled with would-be Instagram models and ladies looking for a come up by marrying some famous athlete or musician, you’d hear the horror stories of how their pursuits had gone wrong. Some left with emotional scars from being led on, others left with a child and little to no support from the fathers. It was a mess to say the least. But the same could not be said when the famed artist and one fourth of the Dead Boys Society, Connie Springer aka Prince Cee, entered your salon…or rather you’d say, for the same reasons. From the second he laid his eyes on you, he was smitten. He was rather familiar with your work and asked to come in for a color job and to put some designs on his head to match his nails he had just gotten manicured. You were more than happy to oblige. Thinking that if for nothing else, he’d make great publicity for your business. What you didn’t count on was falling as hard as you did for the artist! From the second he entered your shop, Connie was such a vibe. Sweet, respectful and so hilarious. He had you cracking up the entire time. As a way to thank you on such short notice, he gave you free tickets, extra pay and asked if he could have the honor of taking you to dinner later in the week. Rather forward, but you liked that in a man. Skip almost six months and some change…and that same man who had walked in that day was now yours officially. Caught up in what could only be described as a whirlwind romance turned beautiful relationship, he had changed your life for the better! Traveling, being lowkey and making love to one another when the time permits. Fucking on islands or the at high rise condo you called home.

by far the healthiest relationship you’d ever had and you had no plans of coming up off of him anytime soon. Especially when the things he did to you…no other man could ever dream of. It was almost your one year anniversary and Connie had gone all out planning a surprise. Gifting you expensive jewelry, eternal roses, a stay in the Maldives and the keys to your second salon. Needless to say, you were overcome with joy. And he didn’t leave empty handed either but you gifted him a new chain, grill and watch. Along with a giant gift box full of his favorite things; shoes, designer clothes and ten bands. You loved a little different when you dated in your tax bracket. But perhaps the best gift of all was not any of those but it was what awaited at the hotel. A bed scattered with rose petals, wine and…some other treasures. Ones that he was going to take great pleasure in using on you. Intense kissing ensued the second you got behind shut doors. Clothes being torn off and tongues clashing in a haze of passion. Fast forward and the next thing you know:

“Ooh..fuck. Connie…”

here you were, howling at the ceiling with your legs spread ten inches apart, courtesy of the bar between your ankles with metal cuffs surrounding them. Your wrists lie suspended in the middle of it and you were entirely under his control. Not that you minded too much. Especially when the plethora of sensations he was inflicting on your body hit all at once. Rubbing on those sensitive, erect nipples whilst the steel of his tongue ring scoured all over your delectable little cunt. Repeatedly prodding at your clit and drumming up a trail of creamy arousal, that was currently dripping down to that puckering asshole..which was also a little preoccupied with a bejeweled plug. It was so sexy and Connie was having his absolute way with you. “Don’t worry, mami. Just keep puttin’ it in my face. Imma let you come soon. Lemme’ enjoy this shit a lil’ bit longer.” That drowsy drawl of his instantly causing your privates to thump. It was something about that voice that got you all worked up. Currently sprawled across the bed in nothing more than his boxers and jewelry, Connie grasped your plush thighs with his hands, sucking on those fat lips and folds..purely enjoying the flavor of your essence. “..’Dis pussy so good, baby. Goddamn.” Even so, he craved a little more tonight. It was no coincidence that you were sporting that toy in your other entrance. Because whilst he was having his fill of your sweet sex, he’d work to train that little hole; stretching and stuffing you with a string of beads designed for this, lubing you up and finally, letting you sport that cute plug. Just for his viewing pleasure though, he’d slick that pretty brown skin of yours up with oil. It was like an adult flick, just for his viewing and tasting pleasure. He’d slowly push two fingers into your core, gently working them in and out of your tightness..his hand intermittently slipping between his thighs to stroke his cock. He was getting extremely aroused at the thought of what was to come. Growing far more excited as he thought about getting to explore that pretty little asshole. Puckering and eagerly awaiting him..suddenly, he’d withdraw and drag a trail of saliva along with him, feeding you a kiss to let you get a sample.

“Mmm, damn. Can’t wait to fuck you, baby..can’t wait to fuck that lil’ asshole.” Almost drowsy and drunk off of your essence. Connie then reached over to retrieve the tiny bottle of condensed lubricant to coat himself and your hole. In one fell swoop, he’d shuffle those boxers down his waistline and let his length spring forth. His swollen tip pulsating red and emitting slippery precum as he laid it flat across your slit. Waiting patiently, you’d find yourself huffing in anticipation..wondering how it would feel. He’d done ample prep so now, it was time for the real thing. Spread wide open, (y/n) chewed profusely at your bottom lip as he’d slowly remove that plug; toiling his thumb pad over the entrance.

“You ready f’r this dick, mama? Hmm?..” questioning sweetly whilst slicking you up with a trail of spit. “Beg for it. Tell me how much you want that shit..” and you had no issue doing so. Begging him and whimpering in that sweet little tone. “Fuck me..put that dick in my ass, please..wanna feel you so deep.” It was as you were pleading your case, you’d feel a rather interesting sensation. That swollen member pushing through your tight bundle of nerves, filling you in an instant. Those brown eyes expanded to the width of quarters and your breath hitched within the back of your throat. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt..warm, full and so goddamn good! But you weren’t the only one loving the sensation of your body right now. Tossing his head back, Connie shuddered with only half of his shaft embedded in you. But still stuffing you to the brim..he didn’t know for sure how long he’d last in it, as this was his first time doing anal as well but he’d enjoy every moment! Grasping the backs on your pinned legs, he’d ensure that you were okay for him to start moving and then proceed..

“There we go…just stay still and keep them’ eyes on me, okay?” Those rose petals pressed to your skin as you slicked with sweat and oil, lying there as you allowed him to delve deeper. Starting out with a slow pace, Connie began bucking his hips forward and developing a rhythm. Sucking his teeth to try and grit through it. He didn’t want to bust too quickly and embarrass himself but it was too much..so he’d eventually speed up and gather his bearings. That’s when he’d truly find his footing; fucking you the way he was supposed to!

“Just like that, baby. Just like that..feel good, mama? Yeah, you gon’ come for me, ain’t you?” Cooing whilst slipping a thumb between your lips. Nodding with a pathetic whimper. “Yes, papi. Keep fucking me..that dick feels so good in my ass.” “And you takin’ that muhfucka’ so good, baby. Shit…”

encouraging you as he could feel himself swelling inside of you..growing by the second. He couldn’t take it. Especially when he felt you twitching around his entire shaft and watching that pussy drip with cream from the impact. It was unbelievable how wet you had gotten from getting your asshole pounded. Those strokes turned from gentle and repetitive to fast and sporadic. He couldn’t stay still any longer nor could he feign off his urges to fuck you like an animal! Grasping for both your bars and the headboard, he’d free your wrists from the confines with one click, only to prompt you to use them elsewhere. “Grab that toy, baby. Play with that pussy real quick. Know she wet as hell f’r me.” Not even halting to give you the instructions. Only digging deeper and deeper. Grasping for the pink rose device, you’d make haste in clicking the on switch as you placed the suction part directly on your clit. The zaps of vibration combined with that euphoric fullness had you ready to shoot from the bed but alas, you weren’t done quite yet and neither was he! Those hazel eyes glaring down at you in absolute adoration as he whispered sweet nothings over your lips. Telling you how pretty you looked, how you were his good girl and that he loved you so much. Constantly rumbling on without a single breath. He was running on pure adrenaline and just at the moment; knowing that his impending climax was near.

“Fuck…fuuuuck me. Yes, stretch this ass. Don’t stop, please..”

“Not ‘till I nut all in this bitch, baby. Not till I fill you—“

at that very moment, his inflated words came to a halt and you’d watch as Connie’s face began to contort in pleasure. You knew he had just broken stride and next thing you knew, he’d halt in his tracks, but those warm strings began pumping into you, just as he promised. Stuffing you with ropes full of cum. It was the best thing you’d ever experienced. Shortly thereafter, that rose would bring you to your peak and a stream of squirt shot up against his abs. Finding yourself flailing around in pure bliss. Reality seemed to have faded for both of you in that split second, but you’d come back to as you basked in the afterglow together. Caressing the side of his face, (y/n) pulled him..

“I need a kiss. C’mere.” Shoving his tongue into your jaws as he clutched a hand around your throat. Hands down, this was the best night of your life. One you’d cherish for a long time.

“Happy anniversary, ma. I love you.”

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties @astrokatsuki

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moonhoures · 7 months

Text

Beautiful

🕷️ kinktober — day 24: praise kink🕸️

pairing: jaehyun (nct) + reader (g/n *)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, praise, dry humping, unprotected sex, penetration, sloppy making out, couch sex, creampie, (* i did mark this as a gender neutral fic but the reader is described as wearing a dress so yeah just wanted to include that! *)

word count: ~1k

synopsis: your bf is upset that no one at the costume party you went to recognized your cosumtes 💔

posted: october 28, 2023

kinktober masterlist

“Baby, don’t be like that.”

Your boyfriend shook his head, trudging into your house with heavy, sad steps before plopping onto the couch. You held back a chuckle at his overdramatic pout and crossed arms. He was currently upset because you two had gone to a Halloween party, dressed up as the 1996 version of Romeo and Juliet from the Baz Luhrmann movie. Jaehyun was the one who had came up with the idea, and he was really excited when your costumes came out fairly accurate to the film. However, he was devastated all throughout the night when partygoer after partygoer failed to pinpoint the characters you were portraying.

“Our costumes were dumb,” he sulked, picking up the TV remote in hopes of distracting himself with whatever show was on.

“They were not dumb,” you assured him, “They’re cute! And it’s not like no one knew who we were. Johnny and Mark knew!”

“I told Mark what costumers we were doing, and Johnny was the one who went shopping with me,” he retorted, the furrow in his brow only deepening as he continued to be upset. “Everyone thought I was a tourist.”

“Well, I think our costumes were amazing. It’s not our fault nobody in the room has good taste in movies like you,” you tried to make him feel better, and as the down-turned front of his eyebrow lifted, you thought it might be working, “Honestly, I’d rather have a great costume that no one recognizes than be the hundredth Harley Quinn and Joker couple.”

He laughed softly at that, “They did have a lot of those. That movie came out years ago.”

“And how many Romeo and Juliets were there?”

“None,” he replied, a satisfied smile on his lips. He looked up at you, and he reached his hand out for yours, holding it, “Thanks, ________.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Jae. Besides, I think you look really hot in this outfit,” you confessed, your other hand reaching up to the collar of his Hawaiian print shirt. Your fingers fiddled with the top button, and neither of you seemed fazed when it just so happened to pop open.

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes now trained on the plump of your lips, the remnants of your lip gloss still making them shiny.

“Yeah.”

“You look gorgeous too. I like this little halo,” he further proved his point by nudging the halo headband above your head with his finger, making it wobble. You giggled along with him, and then his hand was on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss.

The kiss turned hot and heavy in moments; suddenly you were straddling his lap. His hands found purchase on your ass and thighs, fingers gripping onto you and sliding the already short hem of your dress up. Low groans of gratification and wanton whines were muffled through your tongues and lips. Your hips shifted rhythmically over your boyfriend’s, emitting deep, guttural moans from his throat.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” Jaehyun spoke through gritted teeth when you grinded down on him and trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Usually he would warn you about making hickeys, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.

After a little more grinding and passionate, messy kissing, Jaehyun managed to get both of your underwear off and push his jeans down to the floor. You were going to straddle him again, but he maneuvered you so that you were lying on the couch. You let out a small whine about your halo bending before tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. He hovered above you, pushing your leg up so that he could fit better between your thighs.

You sucked in a quick breath as he thrusted slowly into you for the first time, while he simultaneously let out a sigh that resembled a curse word you couldn’t quite make out. He had his head buried in your neck, hot breath making your collarbone warm.

“I’ll never get over how good you feel,” he said, “Every single time . . . is better than the last.”

You moaned, your hands wandering under the loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt he wore. It was hanging on by only a few buttons now, so you made quick work of unfastening them and tugging the shirt off of him completely while his thrusts never faltered, “Jae.”

“I know” when he didn’t get a response he said, “You keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum. You want that?”

You couldn’t think of any words in the moment, too overwhelmed with your looming orgasm, so you simply nodded. He rested his forehead against yours, and as if on cue, you clenched down on his throbbing cock.

“Shit, ________,” he cursed, eyes screwing shut. His thrusts became deeper and a little faster; he moved with purpose, “You feel so good. Smell so good. Look so good. Fuck, you look beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Jae,” you finally broke your silence, “Please.”

Finally, he shut up and focused on what he was doing. He drove his hips into yours with ardor. He littered kisses over your face, ending with your mouth where he drew you into another sloppy kiss. It was sloppy in the sense that it was full of tongues and teeth, but also because your mouth was parted for loud whimpers.

Jaehyun’s movements stuttered, and his grip on the couch tightened beside you, “Holy fu- I’m cumming.”

“I’m cumming,” he repeated, his words coming out broken up and whiney.

Spurts of his cum filled you up. Your leg hiked higher up on his hip. Your hands grasped onto his back, fingernails clawing at him as you felt your orgasm about to crash down on you.

“That’s it, fucking cum for me. Come on, baby,” even in the aftershocks of his own release, he urged you to chase your own, “You look so pretty when you cum, baby. Do it.”

So you did. You came with an exclamation of your boyfriend’s name as the familiar, orgasmic sense of euphoria settled over you.

“God, you look . . . so. Fucking. Beautiful.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

#jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #[🕷️] kinktober 23 #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x reader #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 x reader

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yestrday · 5 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ NOT THE EXCEPTION . yan! isagi yoichi / gn! reader

you were the fool for thinking that he'd be the only sane one in a team full of batshít crazy athletes. now he has you cornered, and the look in his eyes tells you that you should have never underestimated a wólf in sheép's clothing.

+ happy happy belated birthday to the love of my life bbg (who shan't be named) AND happy new year to everyone!!

( HOW DO I WRITE KISSING SCENES????, forced kíssing, dúbcon, n/sfw mentions, mánipulation, hárem mentions [bc it's not yester without a hárem] )

You don't know why you thought he was the exception.

Maybe it's because, in a team full of egoists, Isagi seemed to be the only one to treat you like his equal. Shidou drapes himself all over you and leaves you icky with his séxual comments, Rin cooly glares at you and barely acknowledges your existence, you could nearly faint at the mere glare of Kunigami, and Bachira likes to play rough with your body as he clings and begs for your attention.

That's not even the complete cast. Even people like Nagi, Reo, and Chigiri came with their own set of problems. But not Isagi. You had thought it would never be Isagi. Sure, he had a tongue and attitude on the field, parading around his victory with a smug smirk and spitting poíson at opponents and teammates alike. Yet that side of his seemed to completely disappear whenever he stepped out of the field, his prédatory gaze softening into a fond look whenever you bounded up to him to congratulate him on a well-earned victory. He never tried your boundaries or let his touch linger like the others did.

He was a gentleman through and through, and thinking that was your first mistake.

Your second mistake was being alone with him in your living room. He's still wearing that soft expression and kind smile, but his hands are gripping your wrists too tightly.

"[Your Name]." He says your name in a hushed whisper, bringing up your trembling wrist to his lips so he can press a kiss on a new bruíse. You watch with wide eyes as those plush lips touch your skin and permeate an icy feeling of doom through the veins. His gaze meets yours.

"Don't you think I did well today?"

Though your gut is telling you that something isn't right, you're still a fool smitten with the gentle image Isagi had portrayed himself to be. You find yourself slowly nodding, entranced by those blue eyes that never look away from you.

"Why do you think so?" He presses another kiss on your wrist, before loosening the bruising grip so he can trail kisses up your arm.

"... Your metavision is still as keen as ever," you whispered. The television screen is reflected in his eyes, news of Japan's newest victory flashing on the screen. You can't look away. "You expertly led the others to victory; you instigated all the right chemical reactions for the perfect shot." You lick your dry lips. "... You were amazing."

He huffs a laugh into your shoulder, massaging your bruised wrist like he wasn't the one who left that mark. "You're not echoing Ego's words, are you? I want to hear your own thoughts, not that slimy bastard's."

"M... Maybe," you admit, tense with his grip on your shoulder tightening. "I don't know much about soccer, but I meant every word. You were amazing, Isagi, you really were."

His grip softens, you're still tense, and he hums contentedly. "Right. I was amazing. I devoured every single bastard on that field and left them gasping." Your hair tickles your ear as he pushes them back. "So, don't you think it's a bit unfair?"

"... What is?"

"That I have to share my trophy with the others." His hand feels cold on your neck. "Can't I have one thing to myself? [Your Name], look at me."

You follow. He smiles that gentle smile again. He thumbs your lower lip like a lover.

"Kiss me."

You read romances all the time. They had always described it as hot, passionate, fiery. But maybe you took fiction too seriously. Real life is always different, and the ice in your veins is proof of that.

You draw closer, breath hitched, and mustering all the courage and swallowing down the unease in your heart, you press your lips on his.

There is no fire like the ones described in the books. There is a heavy pit in your stomach. Is this what they call butterflies? You tremble under the scrutinizing gaze of Isagi, eyes still open even with your lips on his. Soon, he closes his eyes too and you feel his lips smirk against yours.

Returning the kiss, he pulls you in closer and takes your everything in deeply. You can't pull away, you don't pull away. In this very moment, he's devouring everything you can offer— for now, physically; soon, mind and spirit. You wince when he bites down on your lip, not even trying to be gentle about it. You flinch backward from the pain, but his hand on the small of your back allows you no escape.

"Kiss me back, baby," he whispers between kisses. "You're my trophy for the night."

You kiss with less passion than him, too nervous about making him happy. You match the softness of his lips with yours, lapping at his tongue like how he does. He laughs when he pulls away, finding amusement in the blushy and nervous look on you.

"Gosh, you're so cute," he sighs, grinning at you. It's no longer friendly, those lips. A bit swollen from your kitten bites, the way he's smirking at you feels too... smug. "Too cute. Those bastards won't have any chance now that I've devoured you."

You gasp when his hand tightens on your hip, and you shoot him a nervous look. "I– Isagi, what are you...?"

"C'mon, [Your Name], how could you possibly not have seen it?" He chuckles. "Bargin' into the locker room every time we're half naked, in those cute shorts, and you think that not one man in that room would think about taking you on the fuckin' bench? Think, cutie. But you've always been wary of them, good thing. They think they can devour you by intimidating and belittling you? Those fuckers don't know shit."

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and laughs at their stupidity, vibrations buzzing your lip. "First, you gotta sweeten the trap with honey, you know?"

You are reflected in those captivating blue eyes, fluorescent lights illuminating your paling features. Taking you in again, he devours your lips once again, caring only for the taste of victory on his lips and your sweet sounds on his tongue.

Another victory snatched.

#blue lock #yandere blue lock #yandere isagi yoichi #yandere x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock x reader #yester.writes

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fanaticsnail · 2 months

Text

"Good Boy"

Masterlist here

Word count: 3,200+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.

Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.

Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams

Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine

A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles.

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward.

Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines.

What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket?

Because he was a good boy.

And you always informed him as such.

While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need.

Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper.

Well, his exploits at least.

Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him.

“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed.

That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most.

And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.”

He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips.

You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved.

And you said it.

You finally said it today.

His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind.

Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand.

“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you.

“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”

“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find.

“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”

“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”

He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own.

“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”

After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words.

“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either.

With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence.

“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound.

You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return.

“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?”

A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet.

Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for.

Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step.

At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him.

A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude.

“Good boy.”

From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words.

“Good boy.”

They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips.

Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips.

He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’

Until the day you didn't.

Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture.

Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles.

The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor.

This was the reason for his intense rage.

After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.

“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart.

Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment.

A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime.

“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe.

“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted.

“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”

“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”

After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles.

“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”

“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”

“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”

“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”

“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”

Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into.

“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye.

“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”

You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface.

The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention.

He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words.

Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders.

“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office.

“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.”

The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone.

Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor.

Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you.

“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”

“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess.

He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming.

“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”

Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat.

“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”

Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.

“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more.

“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence.

“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment.

He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze.

Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading.

He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves.

Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”

And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile.

“Good boy.”

#one piece #x reader #Eustass Kid #eustass kid x reader #op kid #one piece eustass kid #kid x reader #kid x gn!reader #gn!reader #one piece x reader #kid has a praise kink #he just wants to be a good boy #fic request #ask snail #snail answers #snail needs sleep

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snowyquokka · 21 days

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Hey I saw that you wanted ideas for some angst, thought I would shoot my shot. What if one of or all of them idk you choose the boys calls reader clingy and reader gets insecure about it. It's okay if you don't feel like it tho. Take care of yourself and drink lot's of water❤️❤️ I'm new to your blog but I really love your work hope to see more of it in the future❤️❤️❤️

CLINGY

cw - non idol!minho x gn!reader, angst (😈), swearing, fluffy ending, hurt comfort kinda

wc- 1.1k

a.n - IT’S DONE !! i am exhausted but hey it’s out 😭😭 anyway i’m sorry for being a bit MIA lately, i’ve been having a bit of a rough time but it’s getting better. i’m not sure if i like this piece or not tho :((( I LOVE YOU MUAH <3

AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST LINO FIC OMG THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY

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All day, the silence in the house seemed to echo with Minho's absence, each tick of the clock stretching the worry tighter across your mind. The morning had started off on the wrong foot, with Minho oversleeping- a rare occurrence which in turn threw off his whole routine. The rushed breakfast, the hasty goodbye—everything felt off-kilter. It was unlike him to be late, especially for his job at the veterinary clinic, a place he often described as his second home, where he could merge his passion for animals with his skills in care and healing. The hurried departure left a cold space in the wake of his frantic energy.

The argument from the night before added layers to your concern. It was one of those disagreements that seemed trivial in the light of day, yet in the shadow of the night, it had grown into a monumental barrier between you two. It wasn't just the words exchanged or the silence that followed, but the unresolved tension that lingered, making the air heavy with unsaid apologies and unexpressed affections. The fact that Minho had been irritable even before the argument didn't help, it only amplified the discomfort, casting a shadow over his usual bright demeanor.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until Minho's return. The thought of him dealing with the stress of work on top of everything else weighed heavily on you as guilt settled in. It wasn't just the worry for his mental state, but also the longing for reconciliation. You knew the importance of mending the rift, of clearing the air with conversations that bridged the gap between hurt and healing. The thought of him walking through the door, the opportunity to start anew, to offer a smile as a peace offering, became a beacon of hope in the slow march of the day. But as you continue to relive the argument you can’t help the pang of sorrow that strikes your heart like lighting, complimenting the storm of emotions whirling about your being.

The dispute sparked when you casually asked him about his day. To you, it was a simple question, but Minho perceived it as intrusive, deeming you "too clingy" and expressing his exhaustion with what he viewed as your constant nagging.Since then you’ve been running yourself into the ground trying to get as much stuff around the house as you can. If Minho comes home to a clean house, you think, then there’ll be one less reason for him to be irritated with you.

The sound of keys jingling faintly outside the door interrupts your thoughts. You had just finished cooking dinner and were plating it just in time as Minho to strolls in.

“Mm,“ he hums in approval as he wraps his long arms around your waist, gently tugging your back to his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “Smells good, baby. Thank you.” You hum and nod, not sure what to do. He was just complaining about you being clingy but here he is, swaying you side-to-side. Minho clearly sensed your apprehension and pulled back with a sigh. “Why am I getting the silent treatment?”

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. You weren’t purposefully trying to ignore him, you’re just confused and you don’t know how to voice that. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” you turn around towards him and lean back against the kitchen island, using your hands to brace yourself.

Minho hums and folds his arms over his chest. He raises a brow, wanting you to continue. You huff and tip your head back for a moment before looking directly at him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to come off too clingy.” Your tone came off a little harsher than you’d planned and you watch as his expression shifts into something more serious, guilty even.

“Shit, baby I- I didn’t mean it, you know that. I shouldn’t have said it and-” You shake your head, effectively cutting him off.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just-”

His eyes begin to soften as he inches back into your space. “Hey. Hey,” Minho murmurs as his hands find purchase on your shoulders in an attempt to provide at least some semblance of comfort. He’s always been the type to have some sort of contact when talking to you like this. It makes it feel more personal, more sincere, especially when he ends up apologizing. “Don’t do that, you know I hate it. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I was just stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you, I made you upset.��

Minho shakes his head. “I want you to ask about my day, I want you to show that you care. It makes me feel important. You make me feel important.” You pull your lip in between your teeth, a nervous habit you picked up as a child.

"Are you sure? Because I will-" Minho clicks his tongue and leans his forehead against yours, his brown eyes sparkling.

"I never want you to feel insecure about anything I say, regardless of what it is. I understand I can be hot-headed, and I'm working to fix that, but I want you- I need you- to tell me when I’m doing something that’s upsetting you. I love you and I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of your nose with a smile. The action makes your stomach erupt with butterflies and you know everything will be okay. You’ll always bounce back and find your way back to each other.

Minho looks down and locks his pinkys around yours before looking back up at you. “You okay now?” You nod and lean against him further with a content sigh.

“I love you too, Min.” Minho begins to open his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“Even if you’re a dick sometimes.” You say with amusement laced in your tone and a grin.

“I guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.”

“Now you’re getting it,”

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tags: @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @kaiyaba @solisyeah

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