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#just a bunch of beautiful men
fluffypotatey · 2 years
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Yeah, the Knights of the Round Table are cool, but what about the Squires of the Round Table? I want to know about the pack of hapless adolescents that are supposed to be learning the finer points of knighthood from THEE most chaotic bastards to ever share a braincell.
(Merlin unknowingly becomes, like, the patron saint of squires bc if he can handle Arthur, they can handle their respective masters as well)
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no ok i'm in love with this. the squires of the round table is the spin off i didn't know we needed, but by GOD am i glad you told me, anon.
(you are a GEM, anon, i'm in love with you)
the squires for knights are the round table's adopted children. oh, sorry, was that kid the son of such and such??? he's leon's boy now. they all have youngest sibling syndrome so sorry i don't make the rules and yes they do treat merlin like he's a mob wife.
anyway,
these squires would get up to so much shit omfg. if you're the squire to gwaine, have fun upsetting your noble father (because most squires come from the nobility and since arthur took down that rule when he became, then there became this influx of squires who were from the common people) and learning that doing illegal shit is the best thing and you've only tasted a sliver of what gwaine has been doing since he was 13 but you LOVE IT---
squires of sir leon are trained into how to become the mom friend. it's not much, but it's hard work. sometimes the little squires pity their knight because he is not paid enough for for the antics his other knights and king get into ("poetry??? seriously, is that what they told him???" "idk that's roland said" "maybe we should gift him some more moisturizer?"). yes they do treat sir leon with the respect they would give an older cousin.
sir elyan is very new to all this...squire business but he's not one to let his little men (little brothers tbh) be caught slacking. he has them run drills everyday and they complain about it all the time ,but then you'll find them in an empty room perfecting their forms, and making sure it's perfect because sir elyan deserves the best. and he called nathan's form "superb" but nathan's a bitch and you just think that if you get this form right---
elyan teaches his squires moves that were taught to him by tristan and isolde because they totally worked together while elyan was away and he respects them so much and misses them and wonders if they ever got the chance to settle down and breath like they had dreamed
sir percival is second on the list of knights who teaches his squires the more traditional way (first is leon obvi) but that does not mean he let's them fall behind with dirty tricks. listen, this man was friends with lancelot (honorable, noble, dreamed of being a knight since he was prob 15) so he knows the intricacies of knighthood; however, he is also besties with gwaine and elyan both of whom are a chaotic combination if put in the same room. the squires are granted the perfect balance of swishy swordplay and body slamming a bitch. sleeves??? don't know her. the squires beg percival for them to cover their arms and he is offended.
sir lancelot, the epitome of honor and loyalty, is a force to work with. the squires think that he'll be the one whose teaching will lead them far off adventures and gain cool ass scares. lancelot is actually the old coot who grants wisdom like an old man who's lived two lifetimes. his training is unusual but somehow it works. the chores he assigns aren't demeaning, nor are they used as punishment. you are lancelot's squire for a week and you immediately understand that this man is a man who has his heart on his sleeve and you watch as he gazes at the king, the queen, and the manservant. his eyes always fond and full of...something. you are too young to pick up on a deep and unconditional emotion like that. not yet.
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pickapea · 21 days
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there's something beautifully romantic about heterosexuals. despite their differences, despite being raised differently in different cultures and with different expectations put on them, despite coming from different worlds and being kept apart their whole upbringings, they still manage to bridge that gap to find love. it's unfortunate that they don't like each other and don't view each other as human, but i digress
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novelistparty · 1 month
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youtube
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satoruluvies · 25 days
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jjk men when you call them your husband
includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna
requested !
wasn't sure if anon wanted an smau or a written one for this so i turned it into a drabble ahahah
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gojo: he'd be listening to you yap with an endearing look, half registering what you're saying and mostly just admiring you until that one word would snap him out of his own thoughts. he'd let you continue but then let out a chuckle, not being able to contain himself. when asked why he'd just kiss you on the lips “i can't wait to marry you.”
geto: “how could my husband be prettier than me?” at his geto would just laugh. he would then pull you closer into his arms and utter words of how he finds you the prettiest, most beautiful person to exist. when asked if he isn't flustered at you calling him your husband he'd just shrug “we're basically married already” the slight redness in his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the twitching on the corner of his lips says otherwise about his nonchalant front.
nanami: nanami always knew he would get married to you. but when he heard the word ‘husband’ coming from your lips he still blushes. nanami isn't one to express himself much but he finds himself doing so around you. he'd fix his tie and then mess with his glasses and when inquired about his behaviour he gently caresses your hands, imagining the band of metal to grace your finger that he'd get you soon. “i’m glad we're on the same page about our future”
choso: “husband? are you sure?” you knew what he'd meant by this. he's a half curse and that fact always bothered him but not you. you'd tell him that you didn't care about anything of that sort and he'd cry. choso is a very fragile person and very emotional in contrast to the stoic appearance he has. you adored that part of him so much. “hell we're not even married yet and i’m already crying this much” he'd say between sniffles as you rub his back comfortingly.
toji: you were skeptical about doing this prank on him because he's been married and it was a heavy topic. you did not want to remind him or yourself of it but your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to slip it out anyway. silence followed and your heart sank. you look away and scolded yourself mentally for this. hearing him shift you expected him to walk out but he didn't. he pulls you into an embrace and whispers a bunch of i love yous into your ears. he wasn't a good person particularly but a good husband? he was sure as hell he'd try his hardest for you.
sukuna: “what was that?” you'd hesitate to repeat yourself but his authorative voice would make you do whatever he says. “... my husband” you'd stutter and he'd shake his head. “say that with more pride, i’d like my queen to actually like being my queen”. upon being reminded that this wasn't the heian era anymore he'd speak of the prestige he'd use to have and the privileges that come along with it. you'd be annoyed and tell him to return and fool around with his numerous concubines before storming off. he'd however, would stop you and drag you back “i wasn't done. all that prestige could not compare to a lifetime with you. you'll be my queen, heian era or not.”
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it just kept getting longer as it went on lmao
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gyuzgrl · 18 days
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don't be shy //csc//
summary- a variety show sparks feelings between you and your celebrity crush.
wc- 8k
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You're ecstatic. Not even in your wildest dreams did you think you'd be invited to a reality show so early on in your career- especially not one as esteemed as 'one fine day'.
Having debuted only a few months ago, you had minimal expectations to begin with, but the overwhelming response from fans and your sudden rise to fame is still something you've yet to process.
It all happened so fast. Your debut stage was over in a wink and suddenly you were trending on twitter for your otherworldly visuals. Artists and idols you looked up to took to their sns accounts to praise you and your group for your talent and dedication- it was like a dream.
You never wanted to wake up.
That's how you found yourself here- in the middle of Thailand, surrounded by a bunch of loud idiots, sipping on some diet Coke as you hide under an umbrella.
You aren't sure what you expected when you received word that you were being invited to host and take part in the popular reality show- 'one fine day', with SEVENTEEN.
From what you'd heard, they had debuted just before you, and were doing just as well as you were. They seemed nice enough.
A sharp scream rips you from your thoughts, and you look up to see Dokyeom shooting across the sand, waving a pair of shorts in his hand, as a very angry short man chases him, wrapped in nothing but a beach towel.
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and slump down against the sand.
This was going to be a long week.
"tired already?" Wonwoo asks, settling down beside you, "the members are... energetic-"
You grin, letting out a breathy laugh.
"yeah that's one way to say it"
"I'll have you know, by the end of the week you'll be a part of all this-"
"uhuh, we'll see" You shoot him a playful glare, only to have your jaw drop when you see something in the horizon.
Wonwoo follows your gaze and chuckles, shaking his head.
"I see you've spotted Sengcheollie Hyung"
"wh-what?"
"that's our leader"
The first day went by in the blink of an eye. You met all the members- except Sengcheol- and spoke to them for a while, getting to know each of them before shooting began.
You'd learnt from your conversations with each of them, that Seungcheol is as responsible, strong and warm, as he is gorgeous. Each one of the members looks up to him. From the youngest to the one's just as old as him, everyone leans on Seungcheol.
Not good.
How dare he be beautiful and dependable?
Your poor heart had already set its sights on him, and you hadn't even met the guy yet.
As you walk back to your hotel with the members and camera crew, you find yourself stealing glances at him every now and then. You tilt your eyes up once more, searching for him amidst the crowd, only to find him staring at you already.
Your eyes widen.
In an instant, you lower your gaze to the floor as you turn your head away. You've been caught.
Seungkwan chatters away next to you, talking about how exciting it is to host with you, but your mind is preoccupied.
Tentatively, you look back in Seungcheol's direction, and your eyes meet his. He shoots you a playful grin, eyes narrowing as you panic under his stare.
The air stills around you, growing heated, and you find yourself unable to look away. A deep blush bubbles up your cheeks, blood rushes to your head-
"...Noona?"
Seungkwan's voice snaps you from your trance, and you tear yourself from Seungcheol's grasp.
"yeah? what's- what's up?"
"you okay? you haven't said a word"
"I'm okay Kwannie, just a little nervous"
He blushes at the nickname, but in your distracted state, you fail to notice- just like how you didn't notice the way Wonwoo worked himself up to come talk to you, how Mingyu couldn't take his eyes off of you, how Chan stuck to your side all through lunch.
You were oblivious to the men around you.
All that mattered was Seungcheol.
Reaching the lounge, you wish everyone good night, and head off towards the elevator. The doors begin to close behind you, before a hand sticks its way through and coaxes them open, revealing none other than the man himself.
You grow still, unable to speak.
He waits as the doors close.
"I don't bite, y'know" he starts, his voice gentle as he leans against the wall opposite you, "did I scare you? I promise I'm not as scary as I look"
You lower your gaze in a futile attempt to hide your burning cheeks, and he sighs.
"I'm Seungcheol- I didn't get a chance to introduce myself, you uh- kept running away"
"y/n," you mumble, glancing up at him, "m'sorry about that"
He offers you a gentle smile, and you feel your heart twist painfully in your chest. The elevator stops on your floor, which coincidentally happens to be the same as his, and you scramble out, desperate to get some air.
In your haste, you lose your balance, and fall backwards, right into Seungcheol's strong arms. One hand supports your lower back, while the other grabs the back of your neck.
It's a simple touch, really. It's a hand Seungcheol extends out of courtesy, but god the electricity it sends rippling across your skin is undeniable. You know you shouldn't feel this way. You know- but it's so hard keeping your cool around him.
Its been a day. Just one. And you've already kissed your composure goodbye. What will a week do to you?
His lips curl up into a mischievous smile and he leans a tiny bit closer,
"think you can get to your room safely? I'd be more than happy to escort-"
"sh-shut up"
You straighten up, ignoring the raging blush on your cheeks, and stomp down the hallway to your room. He grins, trailing behind you to get to his own.
"oh we're neighbors," he muses, disappearing into his room as he calls out, "g'night".
Your heart thuds as you step into your room, back flush against the door, breathing hard.
The feeling of his hands on your body burns holes into your mind, and you find yourself replaying the scene over and over, while you unpack your suitcase, while you order room service, while you undress. You can't help but wonder how his hands would feel on your bare skin, can't control the way your mind wanders to how thick and beefy his arms are.
Thoughts of him plague you all night long, and you're certain the universe has it out for you when you hear him moving things around in his room, grunting with effort to pull heavy suitcases from one place to another.
The walls were thin.
This was going to be a difficult week for you.
The next day doesn't fare any better either, when you're told that everyone needed to assemble at the beach, dressed in swimwear.
You're devastated.
Breakfast gives you no respite when the man in question sits right opposite you, donning a pair of swimming trunks and a fitted black muscle tee.
As you try to focus on your cereal, he begins to speak.
"you slept okay?"
You peek up at him through your lashes and nod, before quickly breaking eye contact. There's a long silence, and you can feel him staring.
"y/n~" Mingyu calls, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he settles right next to you.
"hi hi," you greet, grinning up at him, "ready to hit the waves?"
"oh you bet baby,"
Seungcheol clears his throat, eyes dancing with a dangerous kind of fire, and Mingyu tenses, easing his arm off you. He mutters some lame excuse and disappears, leaving you alone.
With Seungcheol.
"how come you don't talk to me like that?"
"I- I just know the others bette-"
"bullshit," he interrupts, leaning into you, "you met us all yesterday- somehow the others have earned your affections and I haven't. have I lost to them already?"
Your eyes widen. Lost? What did he mean 'lost'?
"n-no it's just that I-"
Your hesitate, unable to formulate the right words. Saying the truth would reveal your feelings, lying would hurt his. How does one proceed in such situations?
"just what?" he urges, "tell me what I'm doing so wrong you can't even look me in the eye-"
The pained furrow of his brows makes your stomach twist. Your blatant avoidance, the way you didn't speak around him, how your eyes never met his for more than a second- he noticed it all.
You stay silent, now looking up at him helplessly. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, and shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, I just- I don't know what I've done wrong"
You're about to say something, about to reassure him and tell him 'no- you're perfect, you've done nothing wrong', when Jeonghan pulls a chair up next to you.
"morning," he mumbles, a slight smirk playing at his lips.
"hey."
"morning."
"nice to see you finally getting along," he glances at the two of you before continuing, "see? I told you there was no need to be nervous about ddaddu-"
Your eyes widen.
"nervous?" Seungcheol looks at Jeonghan and then you.
"no! no, Jeonghan's just being funny- right Jeonghan?"
Both of them share a knowing glance before Jeonghan grins.
"uhuh I was just being silly, you know me ahaha"
You excuse yourself, shovelling the rest of your cereal in your mouth, before shuttling off down the hallway to the safety of your room.
What you fail to notice, however, is the half-amused-half-defeated look on Jeonghan's face. As you speed off, far far away, he turns to Seungcheol.
"there's something going on here, isn't there?"
"dunno what you're talkin' about"
"oh there's definitely something going on here"
Hours later, at the beach, you're cursing the gods. You failed to take into account how swimwear worked a little differently for men.
He was in swimming trunks. Swimming trunks and nothing else.
Heaven help you.
You tried your best to put on a brave face for the cameras, you really did, but god- it wasn't funny how tongue tied you got at the sight of him, how your face would grow so red your makeup artists needed to pat on layer after layer of foundation.
Today's episode was supposedly focused on a game of tag. There would be two chasers, while the rest would have to run and hide, successfully, for two hours.
After a long game of rock, paper, scissors, Joshua and Seungkwan are chosen.
They get into a little van, counting till a hundred, while everyone else runs across the expanse of the beach, searching for shelter.
You slip into a little nook behind a couple of thick trees, tucking your legs under you.
Your cameraman graciously offered to leave you alone, lest you get caught, and you find yourself all alone, surrounded by moss and forest.
That doesn't last long.
Heavy footsteps draw your attention, and your ears perk up. Surely they haven't finished counting so soon?
Pushing your body closer to the walls of the tree, you peer up at the body making it's way to you.
Pale skin, black swimming trunks, no shirt-
"Seungcheol?"
"oh shi- move in, they're coming"
You oblige, schooching further in as he pushes up against you.
His shoulders shield you from the side, chest flush against your upper arm as his breath tickles the shell of your ear.
"sorry," he mumbles, trying to give you as much space as the little hull would permit- which, admittedly, is not very much.
"you're good,"
Silence settles on you like a heavy blanket, heating up the skin on both your bodies.
"you've uh, got a good eye for hiding spots"
"yeah I was undefeated at tag in the second grade"
He chuckles, shaking his head.
"sorry- you're just trynna make conversation I know-" you mumble, slightly guilty.
"don't be,"
You nod, shifting slightly.
"you're so tense," he muses, eyes trailing over your scrunched shoulders, "shouldn't be so on edge all the time y'know"
Amused by your silence, he continues.
"breathe, y/n"
You suck in a shaky breath, unsure of why your body listens to his command without question.
"that's it, good, now let go for me"
His voice is soothing like the tide; it ripples through you, smoothing out your trembling nerves.
"there we go, one more time,"
Following his voice, you feel your body relax completely. For the first time all day, you've felt your body calm.
"thank you," you mutter, and turn to face him.
Bad idea.
Bad. Idea.
All the breath work he'd helped you with goes flying out the window when you see how close his face really is.
The puffs of air he let's out fan over your face, hovering over the crimson of your lips. You feel your breath catch, your heart quicken, your face heat up.
He's so close.
An inch closer and his lips would be on yours.
Before your thoughts get any further, you look away, opting to look at the width of his shoulder instead.
"uh uh, you're looking at me" he tuts as he eases your chin back in his direction. The pad of his thumb grazes your skin, and your blush burns brighter.
An amused smile twists at his lips and obviously, you're aware of how pathetic you must look.
Just as you're about to push his hand away, he leans closer, whispering-
"do I make you nervous?"
There's a pull between your bodies, a magnet drawing you closer, closer still. Seungcheol's breaths fan over your face and his eyes drop to take in the plush of your lips. You follow suit, eyes darting from his own to his lips.
It's as though time stills around you, like you've been set in glass, and he's about to kiss you, when suddenly, you hear a familiar yell.
"SHUA HYUNG- THERE'S A FOOT OVER HERE!"
You jolt upright, pulling away from Seungcheol so quickly he can barely process what's just happened.
Your eyes dart to his lower body, and you see the way one of his feet stick out beyond the width of your hiding spot.
"wh-"
In a haste, you push a finger to his lips, silencing him.
"your leg-" you whisper-shout at him, tilting your head towards the traitorous foot.
His eyes widen.
Before you can say anything more, Seungcheol grasps your hand, gently taking your finger off his lips and places it against yours. Wordlessly, he rises to his feet, shielding you with his body.
"I GOT CHEOLLIE HYUNG-" you hear Seungkwan yell.
Quizzical as ever, you glance up at the man before you, brows knitting together. He shoots you a sly wink, and whispers- "you'll win for me, won't you?", leaving you red faced and confused.
"ya got me, I'll admit," he holds his hands above his head as he steps away, in Seungkwan's direction.
The next moments pass by in a haze, like you've been submerged under water. All you could think of was the way his breath felt on your lips, the way his voice simultaneously soothed and burned your nerves, the way he protected you- giving himself up instead.
Damn Choi Seungcheol and the way he had you wrapped around his little finger.
You remain hidden for the next twenty-or-so minutes, and the game comes to an end.
You've won.
You're told that your prize is a local dinner with a person of your choosing- staff or member, and it only makes sense to pick Seungcheol. After all, you wouldn't have won without him.
Failing to notice the dejected gazes and smiles the rest of the members sent your way, you walk past them, headed straight for him.
"I choose you." you say, standing in front of him.
The way his eyes widen, lips parting in an instant, tells you that this wasn't on his bingo list. You? Choosing him of all people? Hell- he thought he fucked up big time today-
"me?"
"you."
He's dumbfounded. Honest.
At the restaurant, you sit opposite one another at a table for two. Cameras surround you like endless ocean, and your table becomes an island.
You know he's thinking about today's events when his gaze flicks down to your lips. You know you're thinking about it too.
You also know, however, that this is not the place to discuss secret almost-kisses. Not when everything you do, everything you say, will be monitored.
"I'm still so surprised you chose me," he chuckles as you finish getting your makeup done.
"I couldn't have won without you,"
There's a smallness to your voice, one he hasn't heard these past few days. It's meek and soft and shy and god it's killing him. How could you be this adorable?
"oh c'mon, that was... nothing, honestly"
You shake your head, looking into his eyes earnestly, and he goes quiet. Flicking back and forth, from eyes to lips, you find yourselves sinking into dangerous territory.
The rich brown of his pupils seemed to grow darker as they held your picture within them. Each second he spent looking at you had them blowing wider and wider with something you couldn't help but swoon over.
Perhaps your feelings were being...returned?
Clearing your throat, you remember you're on camera.
"w-what are we ordering?" you blurt out.
"d'you have any preferences or would you like me to order for us?"
Your heart twists at the way he says it- 'us'.
Us.
"you can order...fo- for us" you mutter as your head drops ever so slightly, and you look up at him through heavy lashes and burning cheeks.
The corners of his lips turn upwards, into the softest smile he can fathom, and he nods- although more to himself that to you.
"how about Khao Soi? we can do that, some raw papaya salad and a sticky rice dessert to finish?"
You nod, letting your eyes skim over the way his throat moves with every word he says. As he beckons the waiter over, you can't help but notice how long and thick his fingers are, how veins trail across his arm.
And his voice- god, his voice. The deep, rich timbre of it has you feeling weak in the knees every time you hear him speak.
"-and to drink, we'll get two coconut waters," he concludes, sending the waiter off with your orders. "I wonder what the others are doing,"
"me too, I feel a little bad y'know... we should've all come together" you pout.
"yeah I can't say they're very happy to have missed this-"
You smile- "missed the food, right?"
"sure"
You exchange knowing glances, your eyes having their own secret conversation, unbeknownst to the cameras around them.
Dinner flies by like a cool summer breeze, and you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into Seungcheol's charms. Not only did he ensure that you were served first, he also made sure to cut your chicken into bite sized pieces, and remembered little details from your earlier conversations.
A flirty remark was thrown in every now and then, some more obvious than others, and you found yourself turning red so often, you might as well have gotten a permanent sunburn.
You talk about music and the people you look up to, the stars, highschool memories- everything. Conversation just came so easily with him.
The plates and bowls before you lay empty on the table, the cameras have been turned off, and your mics have been taken away.
Seungcheol gets out of his seat, moving to your side as he offers you his hand. You take it, graciously, and rise from your chair.
"thanks," you mumble, slightly tipsy from the blood his touch sends rushing to your head.
"mhm"
You step outside, trailing behind the staff members while you walk towards your hotel.
"so," he starts, when you've kept a safe distance from prying ears and eyes, "about today..."
Before he can say anything more, you shudder, suddenly feeling nervous.
He looks at you, brows furrowing, but chooses to move on anyways.
"...I uh, did I scare you? was that too much?"
"no! no I just- it caught me off guard is all"
"I seem to be doing that a lot huh?" he muses, fighting back a sly smirk. Seungcheol steps closer, shoulders bumping into yours, and you let out a surprised squeak.
Embarrassed, you turn away as he laughs beside you. A pout takes over your full lips, causing his laughter to increase its intensity.
"tha-that wasn't-" you huff out, to which he raises an amused brow.
"wasn't what? wasn't 'cause of me- wasn't 'cause I make you nervous?"
Oh.
He had you figured out.
You might as well have been stark naked under his stare, 'cause frankly- there was nothing left to hide. Not from him.
Still, you make one last attempt at disguising your feelings towards him. Through deep red cheeks, flushed skin, you speak-
"you- I'm not nervous!"
"uhuh, sure you aren't, sweetheart"
Your heartbeat quickens at the petname. Surely, he didn't just-
"hey-" he snaps you out of your thoughts, "I can practically hear the gears turning in that head of yours,"
"let me beeee" you whine, nudging him away lightly with your fingers knocking against his bicep. Seungcheol brings a hand to his chest and pouts in faux pain, eyes scrunching shut.
"I'll leave you alone then," he begins to step away from you, and you panic. Without thinking, you pinch the fabric of his shirt sleeve between your fingers, and tug him back, preventing him from leaving.
You stay silent when he twists his gaze to you, and whatever semblance of mystery, of uncertainty, you'd built up comes crashing down. The gentle grasp of your fingers on his shirt tells Seungcheol all he needs to know.
The two of you walk in silence, and before long you find yourselves at the hotel, bidding people goodnight as you enter the elevator together.
"it's cute when you do that, y'know?" he says, suddenly, motioning to the nervous twiddling of your fingers.
"it is?"
"uhuh, even that little pout you make everytime you're flustered-" he brings his hands down to meet yours, grasping your fist gently. You fingers lace together like pieces of a puzzle, and he steps closer.
"really?"
"mhm" Another step.
"Seungcheol," you breathe. The air feels heavy, dense with desire and want. A little voice at the back of your head urges you to step back, to stop whatever this is, but you can't help yourself.
"tell me you want me to stop- tell me you don't feel this,"
There's a rawness to his voice, something akin to desperation. He begs you with his eyes to say something, anything, he's been losing his mind over you and it hurts to have you this close but still out of reach.
"I-" you start. The elevator dings, signalling your floor, and your eyes snap to the open doors. "it's late, we should-"
"do you feel this, y/n?" he pleads, loosening his grip on your wrist.
"we shouldn't-"
Seungcheol lets out an exasperated groan as you slip out of his grasp, slowly backing away down the corridor and into your room. He watches you disappear and something inside him begins to snap.
It had been two days. Two days since he met you, but it felt like his heart had been searching for you since forever. The way you'd fit perfectly into his arms, the way your shy demeanor mellowed out his intimidating one, how easy it was to talk to you- Seungcheol knew deep within, his feelings for you were more than a simple crush.
You wake up the next day, and head down for breakfast. Avoiding the pleading glances Seungcheol sends your way, you force yourself to eat. You aren't sure why you do this- it's not like you feel uncomfortable, hell you feel exactly the way he does. So, why was it so hard to look at him?
Seungkwan and Vernon strike up a conversation with you, talking about what was in store for today.
"our hair-makeup Noona told me that we're going shopping!" Seungkwan beams. Vernon nods, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.
"shopping?"
"yep we're gonna buy clothes and food and stuff and I think there's a mini game in the evening"
You nod, finishing up your breakfast, and soon enough, you're all on your way to a large market place.
Bright stalls lit up the street, the smell of fresh food filled your senses, and the sun shone down, illuminating the world around you.
You had till the evening to do as you pleased.
Splitting off into groups, everyone begins to explore the market place, and you just so happen to be with Jeonghan, Joshua and Seungcheol.
If the past few days have taught you anything, it's that the twins cannot be trusted. The moment you see Joshua flash you a cheeky grin, you know they're up to no good.
A stall catches your eye, decorated with the most beautiful jewellery you've ever seen. Seashells and gem stones wrapped in thin gold wire made the prettiest necklaces and earrings, and you couldn't help but pick one up for yourself.
"see anything you like?"
It's Seungcheol. He plants himself behind you, chest pressed to your back, lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear.
You freeze, holding the necklace in one hand. Before you can respond, an arm reaches out beside you and pries the item out of your hand.
"pretty," he mumbles, sending shivers down your spine.
You crane your neck to the side while your eyes search for his, and you see him staring directly at you.
"I uh, yeah it's um pretty"
Seungcheol places the piece back down, leaning into you as he reaches over the table- essentially trapping you between the display and his body.
Your breath hitches at how close he is. One wrong move- one right move- and his lips would be on yours. You don't dare to look away.
"aren't you gonna buy it?" the stall owner cuts in, "pretty necklace for pretty lady, eh?"
You shake your head as you step away- "I shouldn't-" you trail off, suddenly realising that Jeonghan and Joshua are nowhere to be seen.
"hey where'd those two go?" You set off, walking ahead to look for them- an excuse, obviously, to get away from Seungcheol. The blood rushing to your head was making you feel dizzy.
The day passes, you explore the market, eating all that you could. Taking in the new sights and smells, you feel so alive. Happiness really doesn't need much, does it?
Back at the hotel, you find yourself in your room with Joshua and Seungkwan as they try on all the new clothes they bought.
"kay this is the last one I think-" Seungkwan says, appearing in a blue Hawaiian shirt and some funny looking sunglasses.
You give him a thumbs up, turning to Joshua.
"you're done too?"
"mhm, I didn't buy too much"
You talk for a bit before they say their goodbyes, turning in for the night, and you're left alone in your room with nothing but your thoughts to entertain you.
'pretty'
Seungcheol's voice soothes through you and once again, you find yourself drifting off into thoughts of him. A sneaky hand slides down your body, past your sleep shorts, and you let your mind think back to him.
Day four begins uneventfully. It's a lazy morning, you order room service, read a little.
The real fun begins at night.
At 8 pm, you're ushered into the hotel bar, right by the pool. Bright neon lights hanging from the ceiling, the pool is illuminated by electric blue, and a large table- enough to seat 14- is placed in the centre.
"oh shit," Vernon comments from beside you, lowering his phone as you all take in the space around you.
A speaker comes to life from somewhere in the corner, and a distorted voice booms throughout the setting.
"night has come. prior to this evening three of you have received chits, revealing your role as the mafia."
Excited oohs and ahs leave everyone's lips as you wait for further information.
"the mafias have been allowed to meet and plan their strategy, the policeman and doctor have been chosen as well, but are not aware of each other's identity. if the mafias succeed in killing a majority of the civillians, they win. if the civillians kill all three mafia members, the civilians win. hidden in this space is a seashell. find it, and you win 500,000 won. if you don't find it- the money goes to the mafias, and they win. note- the pool is not off limits. please be seated at the table, and place your first guesses"
In a flurry of excitement and energy, you sit down. Everyone's on edge. The air is electric. A sly smile threatens to ruin your facade of innocence, but you push it down, putting on your best performance.
Earlier this morning, you, Minghao and Jeonghan had met up in your room, planning your victory.
The plan was simple. You had to tug on a couple heartstrings- use your charm to your advantage.
As long as you weren't suspected, the mafias would win.
And so, the game begins. Accusations go flying back and forth- fingers point wildly as voices raise to shocking decibels.
You watch your partners carefully.
Minghao is cool, composed, quiet- just like he usually is. Jeonghan uses his words, spreading accusations like wildfire, and the others eat it up with no hesitation.
All of a sudden, Soonyoung jerks out of his chair, rising to his feet with revelation written all over his face. His eyes widen momentarily before they narrow at the poor soul sitting opposite him.
"guys- IT'S MINGYU- TRUST ME GUYS, I'LL EXPLAIN IT ALL LATER IT'S MINGYU-"
The larger man huffs, shoulders slumping as he accepts defeat.
The game goes on, Mingyu has been killed, and the first round of searching yields no results for the civillians.
"night has fallen. mafias please select who you want to kill"
You point to Wonwoo.
The doctor fails to save him.
"morning is here- innocent civilian Wonwoo has been killed"
And again, chaos descends upon the room. Accusations settle on Woozi now, who's been suspiciously quiet according to the other members. You join in as well, agreeing with the majority, and Woozi is killed.
You, Minghao and Jeonghan share secret smiles.
The second round of searching begins and you wander off, pretending to search around.
"I can see right through you, y'know..." Seungcheol says, appearing beside you.
"wh-"
"nah I'm just kidding- who d'you think it is?"
"why would I reveal my cards? what if you're the mafia?" You narrow your eyes at him, backing away slightly in jest.
"cause I'm the police officer. and I think we should form an alliance-"
Hook, line, and sinker.
An grin takes over your features and you nod, "yeah I'd like that" You stare up at him, eyes wide, shining with innocence, and he melts instantly.
To him, you're intentions are all good. After all, how could you- an actual angel on Earth- betray him?
"night has fallen, mafias please select who you want to kill"
As Jeonghan and Minghao raise their heads, you mouth- 'Seungcheol- he's the police officer', and point to the man in question.
Jeonghan shoots you a proud smile before returning to crouch down on the table.
Once again, the doctor fails, and you succeed.
Seungcheol is dead.
"morning is here- policeman Seungcheol has been killed"
His jaw drops. Looking at you, Seungcheol is astonished at your effortless deception.
The third round begins and you sneak away into a closet, pretending to search. Seungcheol comes up behind you, and smirks.
"sly girl," he says, voice low and sultry, "got my guard down with that pretty face"
Your breathing halts.
Pretty.
Oh.
"what are y-"
"oh cut the bullshit, you knew exactly what you were doing- looking at me with those eyes,"
A bashful smile plays at your lips and you take a few steps back, coming in contact with the wall behind you. He smirks, stepping closer and closer with one hand tucked loosely in his pocket while the other reaches up to brush your hair out of your face.
The contact makes your skin flush, and he chuckles in disbelief.
"fuck you're adorable-"
He leans down, lips ghosting over yours, as his eyes grow heavy.
Time, unfortunately, isn't on your side, and the round comes to an end. You pout, mouthing a quick "sorry", and leave as his arm chases your parting figure.
"night has fallen, mafias please select who you want to kill"
The next couple of rounds pass by quickly, and finally all the members are killed, save for Soonyoung and Jun.
Your victory is announced, and you head back to you rooms after a hearty dinner.
Seungcheol and you make your way to the elevator, after saying your good-byes, and for the first time, you see him scowl.
"what's wrong?" you giggle, leaning against the elevator wall.
"oh nothing nothing," he mutters, stepping closer with each word, "I've been trynna kiss this girl for a while now, but I think God hates me"
You laugh, tipping your head back against the cool metal wall, and Seungcheol stands stunned. You were just so beautiful.
After a moment of silence, you straighten up, facing him once more, only to find his gaze already fixed on you. There's sure shot desire and awe burning behind his eyes. It's clear as day.
You stare up at him, and it's as though the world stops. The same pull you felt all these days, draws your bodies closer. Like a moth to flame, Seungcheol finds himself drawn to you. He's helpless.
He stands in front of you, your faces dangerously close, and you feel your breathing quicken. One hand cradles the nape of your neck while the other finds your waist.
"Seungcheol-"
"hm?"
"please-"
And his lips are on yours.
Colours blur together behind your closed eyes, fireworks go off in your head, your skin hums under his touch- it's nothing short of perfect; like a kiss straight out of the movies.
Your lips push against each other with a desperation you've never felt before, and his hands pull you closer. Seungcheol moves with such expertise, you can't help but feel your knees weaken with every motion of his body.
The ding of the elevator pries you away from each other, and you pull away panting. Your chest heaves like never before, and he shoots you a knowing glance. With his eyes he asks you- 'shall we continue?'
You rush out of the elevator, heading straight for his room. Shaky hands slide his keycard into the door and you're in.
Stepping inside, reality hits you like a truck and you pause.
"what's wrong-"
"what if someone finds ou-"
"shut up"
"what?"
"shut up" he breathes, pushing his lips against yours once again, effectively silencing you. All your doubts melt away, it's like the world's forgotten.
A hand sneaks down to your lower back, pulling you closer, and you gasp. Seungcheol smirks, taking advantage of your parted lips as he slides his tongue into your mouth. You whimper at the motion and his lips quirk up.
He loved it when you got all flustered for him, but this tops it all. Once he heard the little sound you made, there was no containing himself. The little control he'd managed to retain, finally snapped, and he let himself go.
The kiss turns hotter, wetter, and you both know where this is going.
Your chest burns, you heart races, and you pull away, panting. His eyes narrow in on the unsteady rise and fall of your chest, the swollen pout of your lips, the unmarked, tender flesh of your neck.
Backing up, Seungcheol settles down, sitting at the foot of the bed with his legs spread slightly as he adjusts his trousers. He looks up at you.
"c'mere baby" his voice is sinfully sultry, fingers beckoning you over to sit on his lap.
Your feet follow before your brain does, and you straddle his thigh, whimpering when your sex comes in contact with the firm muscle of his leg.
"oh?" he teases, hands smoothing over your hips, grabbing at the tender flesh as he forces your body to work against his thigh. "wanna ride my thigh, sweetheart?"
Your head dips into the crook of his neck and you nod, feeling small under the weight of his stare.
"c'mon, you gotta look at me-"
You whine into his neck, and he shudders, grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into place.
"uh uh, this isn't up for debate baby," he tuts, "wanna see that pretty face"
You bite your lip, stifling a moan, when he rocks your hips into his thigh. The friction of your panties and the texture of his trousers sends you spiralling into a world of pleasure. Your skirt pools around your hips as he holds you steady, now bouncing his legs ever so slightly.
He pulls and pushes you as he pleases, manhandling your body like you were a toy- but god that made you feel some type of way. How he could move you and touch you and command you with such ease, had your panties soaked through.
You needed to feel him in you. Needed him to fill you up and fuck you so good you only remember his name.
"that's it, shit" he groans, pulling you harder until your clit snags ever so slightly on the fabric of his pants. You moan, legs twitching at the stimulation, and he smirks.
"you like that, huh?"
You nod, helplessly.
So he does it again. And again. And again, until your legs spasm around this thigh, until you moan and whimper, until you come undone.
All for him.
"aw sweetheart, you made a mess," he coos, as his hands run along the curve of your ass.
"don't- fuck don't say that"
You face is beet red- if he didn't know any better he would've been concerned right about now.
"d'you wanna keep going baby?"
You nod, eyes shining.
"so eager," he grins, "here, lie down for me-" Seungcheol pushes you gently so that your body rests comfortably on his mattress, and crawls atop you, legs settling at either side of your hips.
As much as you've thought about this very scenario, as much as you've imagined how he'd be on top of you, nothing could've prepared you for how breathtaking Seungcheol looks like this.
His hair's messy, his cheeks are flushed, and the look in his eyes has you burning with anticipation. How someone could be so gorgeous is beyond you.
"m'gonna make you feel good, hm?" he murmurs, dipping his head into the crook of your neck, sucking little love bites into the tender flesh. You groan, tilting your head involuntarily, and nod.
He grins against you, lips streching in a knowing smirk. Trailing his kisses lower to your collarbones, to the swell of your breasts, Seungcheol glances up at you-
"may I?" he asks, fingers sliding under the hem of your top, splaying against your tummy.
"mhm, please"
Pleased, he lifts your top off, tossing is aside before working your bra. Deft fingers slide under your back, clicking your clasps open with ease, and suddenly, you're bare under him.
Your nerves catch up to you, and you realise that he's staring. He's staring hard. Like you're the eighth wonder of the world and he's just discovered you. Like you're the long lost city of gold and he's been searching for you all his life. Like-
"you're so beautiful," he breathes. "fuck- let me look at you"
You turn away, a bashful smile lighting up your face- "stopp"
"I'm serious, you're honestly so-" he huffs out, unable to find a word big enough to fit how he feels about you.
A giggle bubbles out of your throat and he smiles. His eyes crinkle, forming tiny crescents, as he looks down at you so fondly you think you're heart's going to burst.
He presses his face into your chest, inhaling the scent of your skin while his lips press tender kisses to your breasts. The wet smacks he leaves across your skin burn cool under the gentle breeze swaying through the room. It tickles your skin.
Feeling his lips move along your skin, your desperation only builds.
"Seungcheol," you whine, drawling out the last syllable, "hurry please"
He tuts and sinks his teeth into the flesh of your breast, your body jolts in response.
"patience," he mumbles into your skin, "patience, baby", leaving goosebumps as he speaks. A shiver wracks its way through you, uncontrollable and intense.
"oh sweetheart-"
Choosing to be merciful, Seungcheol kisses a trail down your naked torso, stopping above the waistband of your skirt.
"this okay?"
"more than okay- just god, please don't stop" you whimper, hips jerking involuntarily into his hand.
Slowly, meticulously, he dips two fingers under the edge of your skirt and drags it down, letting his nails rake over the expanse of your thighs.
You shudder under his touch, completely at his mercy.
Once your skirt is off completely, he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your ankle, and crawls up to face your cunt.
"god you've made such a mess of these," he rasps, running a finger along your slit through your soaked panties. Automatically, your hips roll up, seeking something more, but he forces them down firmly.
One hand holds you down while the other prods at your clothed entrance. He shoots you an evil smirk, and your breathing grows shallow.
"I hope you don't like these too much,"
All you hear is fabric ripping at the seams, and your eyes widen to the size of saucers.
"wha- oh my god" you cut yourself off with a loud moan as Seungcheol licks a thick stripe up your slit.
He winks up at you, eyes flashing with pride, and begins his work.
It's true what they say about rappers- their tongues really are built different.
Seungcheol devours you like he's been starved for years, like he begins and ends with you, like the taste of you is intoxicating. His tongue dips down into you, collecting your arousal before spreading it over your clit it firm waves.
The way he works that muscle against you isn't funny. It has you yelping, whimpering so pathetically you're both embarrassed and turned on at the same time
He laves at your clit, lapping up your juices greedily as if it gave him more pleasure than it did you.
"you taste divine," he mutters, half to himself, before plunging two fingers into your aching sex without warning. You moan, back arching off the bed, hips rolling up to meet his lips.
Seungcheol flicks his tongue rapidly against your hardened bud while his fingers piston in and out of you, curling up into you- oh, right there.
Your limbs tremble under his hold and your stomach tightens deliciously, waiting eagerly for your release; with the way he works your body, it isn't far away.
"Cheollie m'close-" you gasp, hands flying down to hold him in place, lest he decide to deny you of your orgasm. He groans when you tug at his hair, sending sound waves vibrating through your nerves.
A thin film of sweat settles over your skin, coating you like gloss. Your body writhes under his touch, and within moments, you feel yourself slip into blinding pleasure. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you limbs twitch helplessly.
Seungcheol eases you through your orgasm, slurping at your folds to taste your arousal. He pulls away with a smacking sound, his chin coated in your slick, and smirks at the fucked out look on your face.
"that good, huh?"
Cocky bastard. You want to smack that stupid smirk off his face, you want to throttle him and yell and hide all at the same time- but you know he's right. It really was that good.
So, you nod, looking away bashfully, red smeared across your pretty cheeks.
"wanna see you," you whimper, when he finally rises to his feet, towering over you.
He cocks a brow at you, a challenge dancing in his eyes, and you pout.
"please"
His expression stays the same and you can't help the exasperated huff you let out.
"please Cheollie I wanna see you,"
Finally, he smiles, obliging- "there we go, that's my good girl"
You aren't sure what you expected from him, but the moment he lifts his shirt off, time begins to slow. The lean, hard muscle of his chest, the defined ridges of his abs, the sinful swell of his biceps- you were drooling.
"can I-"
You trail off, sitting up so that you're seated at the edge of the bed, your face right in his abs.
"you can do whatever you want, sweetheart, m'all yours"
You giggle, "c'mon we've known each other for all of three days,".
"a lot can happen in three days,"
"mhm, but still-"
"hey," he turns serious for a second, "if this is going too fast for you, we can take things slower, okay?"
And suddenly, your desperation skyrockets. You've needed him from the moment you first saw him, and now that the time has come, it'll take an earthquake to stop this from happening.
Eager hands rake down his torso, tucking under the waistband of his pants. He hisses at the contact, eyes fluttering closed as you undress him.
"I want this," you affirm, voice soft and sultry, "I want you."
Leaving him in his boxers, you press a kiss to his abs, letting your hands roam over his defined torso, and then a little lower. Hard earned muscle greets your touch, and you can't help the way your cunt begins to clench up.
Seungcheol has the body of a god.
"baby-" he rasps as he threads his fingers through your hair, "fuck, you're gonna make me cum just like this-"
You giggle, letting him push you gently back onto the bed. He stares you down, eyes locking onto yours, and slides his last garment off so slowly you could cry.
"hurry" you whine, spreading your legs desperately.
Seungcheol has to compose himself. He really does. The sight of you, all spread out for him, so eager for him, has his head spinning. He curses under his breath, kicking his boxers off, and crawls above you, rubbing his cock along your wet folds.
A broken whimper claws up your throat at the contact, and you actually sob when he begins to push himself into you. Two fingers couldn't hold a candle to the girth of his cock.
"y-you're so big" you gasp, tears pricking at your eyes, and for once, you aren't lying just to feed a male ego. He was huge.
Your walls stretch deliciously around his girth, and you let out a shrill cry when he pushes further. You've taken big cocks before, but this? This put your toys to shame.
"just let go, doll, that's it baby, that's it-" he soothes, sucking in shaky breaths, trying desperately to control himself.
After what feels like an eternity, Seungcheol finally bottoms out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix with ease.
"oh," is all you can manage, feeling your insides make room for him. The shape of his cock presses into your walls, and your certain you won't be able to walk tomorrow. He's thick and long and heavy, and god you feel like some cock-hungry slut, with how desperate you seem to have gotten for him.
"fuck- you're so tight-"
"pl-please move," you whimper, jaw falling open when he draws his hips back before slamming into you.
Tears spill over the dams of your eyes, staining your flushed cheeks. Your eyes glisten with desire as you stare up at him, watching how his face contorts in pleasure.
"that's it, sweetheart," he seethes, supporting his weight on his forearms, caging you with his body, "takin' me so fucking good".
The drag of his cock, in and out of your sloppy cunt is nothing short of addictive. With every snap of his hips, you find yourself craving more and more, wanting him to burn, break, bend you.
"Cheollie please," your nails rake down his back, leaving marks you're sure you'll get in trouble for tomorrow, but you don't care and neither does he. All that matters is you, him and the pleasure you feel in this moment.
As Seungcheol pounds into you, his eyes remain trained in on your face, never losing focus of what matters most- you. There's a tender adoration in his gaze, how he looks at you so fondly, like you're the prettiest damn thing in the world.
"good fuckin' girl," he groans, "keep those eyes on me."
The room fills with the smell of sweat and the sound of sex- skin on skin, moaning, panting. You'd have been embarrassed of the lewd noises slipping past your lips if you'd have had your wits about you. The walls are thin. You know this. You know this, but still- feeling as good as you do, you can't bring yourself to care. Dealing with angry neighbours is tomorrow's problem.
A hand slips in between your legs, thumbing your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive nub, and your eyes screw shut.
That all too familiar knot in your tummy begins to form, and Seungcheol forces his cock into you harder. The combined stimulation of his dick inside you and his hands on you is intoxicating, and you sink into the mattress, feeling a wave of release wash all over you.
But he's far from done.
"fuck-" he moans, feeling your walls spasm and squeeze around him as you cum all over his cock, "take it for me, yeah? you can take a little more, can't you?"
You whimper, legs quivering from overstimulation, and your body jerks under him as he continues to thrust into you, using your body as he pleases.
"shh, I know baby, I know," he soothes, dipping his head into your neck, sucking deep red bruises into the skin there.
Tears pool in your eyes, you nerves scream for respite, but you can't bring yourself to stop.
You can't help it.
He grabs your thigh, hooking it over his back, and pushes into you, reaching further than before. The new position sends you reeling from pleasure, and you swear no man has ever made you feel like this.
Despite having just cum, you feel another orgasm build in your belly- this one approaching much faster than the last.
"m'gonna- Cheollie please please, gonna cum" you sob, clawing at his back as his thrusts grow sloppy and harsh.
"cum for me."
And you do, clenching down hard around his length, leading him to his own release. He fills you up, emptying white hot fluid into your greedy hole, and finally, you're satiated.
Your limbs tremble and spasm, your skin feels sticky and hot, and your lips are swollen- but you wouldn't have it any other way.
Seungcheol collapses onto you, putting pressure of your stomach, causing your combined arousals to seep out of you, trickling onto the duvet.
"let's get a bath going for you," he chuckles, lifting his body back up and walking to the bathroom.
He fiddles around with the taps for a minute before coming back out, plucking a little box out of his bag as he settles down next to you.
"for you," he smiles, pressing the item into your hand.
You pry it open, and your jaw drops.
It was the necklace you wanted. The pretty one with the seashells and gems. You turn to him, eyes glistening and pull him into a sweet kiss.
It's different from your earlier ones. The way his lips move against yours aren't as agressive, and desperate as before. This time, he seems to be showing you how he feels, showing you his sincerity- it's almost as if he's trying to ask: "will you be mine?"
You pull away, breathless. His eyes sparkle as he looks fondly at you.
"pretty necklace for pretty lady," he grins, "right?"
1K notes · View notes
tonycries · 1 month
Text
"Pull On It. Harder."
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Synopsis. He liked to wear that little black hair tie everywhere. Why? Oh, it just reminds him of the way you tie his hair into a pretty lil’ ponytail - all while he's tonguefúcking you to insanity.
Pairings. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cunnilingus, rough oral (female receiving), unprotected, overstim, slightly long haired! boys, they’re just a bit mean here, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.
Word count. 1.2k
A/N. I love long haired men and no one can do anything ab it.
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He’s never seen without that little black hair tie around his wrist. 
He likes to take it with him, thumbing that red imprint on his skin whenever he misses you. It makes him think of how he’d run his hands through your hair at night. Or how you’d intertwine your fingers with his when out on dates.
And, of course, how you’d gather  his locks and tie it into a pretty little ponytail while he tonguefucks you into insanity.  
“Fuck, sweetheart. Barely even touched you and already so wet f’me.”
Nose-deep in your pussy, his bangs partially cover his heavenly view of you - spread underneath him, thighs trembling and cunt dripping all over his freshly cleaned bed sheets. Good, he thinks deliriously, preferring your scent to the overly artificial softener anyway. 
He isn’t too worried, though, knowing you’ll work your magic with his hair soon enough. Soon.
“Soon” happens to be when he’s pooling your sweet juices on his lips. Relentless tongue dipping in and out of your quivering hole at a maddening pace. In and out in and out in and-
“Oh, fuck, baby- Hngh- faster, fucking me on your tongue s’good.” Hips bucking up into his hot mouth for more more more. Making out heatedly with your pussy with the urgency of a madman. Stray strands sticking to his forehead, he looks up at you through half-lidded, absolutely feral eyes that devour you almost as much as the mouth on your cunt - soon.
Tongue bullying past your swollen folds, crooking just right to fuck you on it the way he needed to with his throbbing cock. “Yeah, just like that.” you moan deliriously.
His hair tie digs into his skin, as well as yours, as he forces your thighs on his shoulders, reaching to draw tight, little circles on your needy clit. Methodical, and purposeful.
He knew you were close when you reached down to urgently cup his head, bunching those silky locks in two trembling hands. Ever the gentleman - his hand expertly leaves its bruising grip spreading your thighs so shamefully open. Letting you all but rip off the hair tie off it.
Shaky fingers running through his locks, his breath hitches so deliciously as you hastily secure his soft strands into a small, loose ponytail. Movements urgent and as jerky as the snap of that small hair tie. 
Ah, there he was - you could cum just from seeing the absolutely feral look on his face. It should be a crime for those beautiful features to be covered by anything other than your dripping cunt. 
A predatory grin tugs at his lips against your swollen ones as you finish tying the small band. Ah, now he can really get into it. Your back arches, using the ponytail as leverage to demand more. Need more as he makes out with your pussy with newfound vigor.
Nails digging into his scalp, searing with your grip. You know he doesn’t mind - in fact, he even leans into your touch with a guttural groan, swallowing hard as he drives his tongue deeper into you. 
It’s messy - both the ponytail and the way he speeds up maddeningly, your slick smearing across his pretty face, trailing down to the sheets below. Tongue continuing its relentless abuse - over and over and-
At a merciless rhythm that has the bed creaking and you whining in pleasure - the neighbors were sure to file another noise complaint. Annoying old fuckers, should give them a real show. 
His breaths are almost as ragged as yours now - because fuck oxygen, he wanted to see his pretty girl fall apart on his tongue. A munch - as you liked to often joke - with no care in the world for anything other than making you cum hard enough to see stars.
“Fuck, baby- m’gonna- m’gonna hngh-”
And not only do you see stars, you probably see the pearly gates of heaven as you cum on his mouth. Convulsing and hips rutting up to ride out your high on his pretty face. Eyes dazed, lips swollen and absolutely pussy-drunk. 
That sinful glint in his eyes stays as he pulls away, an obscene trail of saliva and your slick connecting your lips to his chin. Cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently, strands of silky hair falling out of that disheveled ponytail. A true masterpiece.
He watched you intently, drinking in every dip and curve. Breathtaking, absolutely breathtaking.
But the games are over now.
“Spread them f’me, sweetheart.”
Looming over you, eyes burning with raw desire. Cock throbbing and leaking delicate beads of precum as he positions himself, furiously flushed tip nudging your sloppy hold. He pumps himself. Once. Twice. Being merciful enough to give you a second of respite.
Without warning, he surges forward. Bullying his thick cock into your snug cunt in one, swift thrust. Not stopping till he’s all the way. His lips crush against yours, stifling your cry of pain and pleasure at finally getting what he’s been teasing you with for so long.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into your dripping cunt. Nails raking down his sculpted back as he starts up a feral, unforgiving pace. Each ram of his cock into your cunt erratic, hitting your cervix and pulsing against that one spot deliberately. Again. And again. Like a madman possessed. 
“Baby- Hngh-” you whine sinfully, hips bucking wildly against to meet his almost-animalistic cadence, reaching out a shaky arm towards him. He knows what that means. How could he not?
Holding your hungry gaze as he leans down, sweaty forehead meeting yours. One hand cradles your face, while the other hooks a finger underneath that godforsaken hair tie and pulls. Letting the ponytail - that at this point could barely even be called one - fall apart, just as you were underneath him. 
Eyes glassy and dazed, soft little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. The only thing behind those pretty eyes being him and the big cock stuffing you full. So close to cumming. 
Bangs partially covering the sinful view that was you - but right now, he didn’t care. Not when you’re snaking a hand up to his locks and pulling. Hard.
“Yeah, just like that. Pull on it. Harder.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat as he lets you continue your little ministrations, tugging on his hair especially hard when he purposefully misses that little spot he knew drove you wild. Over and over.
Now, he doesn’t want to sound like a masochist - his friends would probably laugh their asses off at that - it’s just it hurts so good when it’s you.
Which is why, two strong hands rest above your head, fingers lacing, pushing you down down down impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock. You keen in response, “Ah! Hngh- oh, baby jus’ like that. M’gonna cum.”
Ha, as if he’d be that nice. 
Pulling out in one, fluid motion, he relishes in your disappointed whine at the sudden disappointment. Taking the opportunity to gather your hair in his fists, fingers deftly forming a makeshift ponytail with a snap! of that little hair tie. 
Leaning down to whisper in your ear, voice gravelly and hot against your ear. “Not yet. Suck on my cock without this ponytail falling apart, sweetheart. Then we’ll see about that orgasm, hm?”
Because you love to see his face.
And, of course, he loves to see yours.
- GETO, CHOSO, GOJO, Kuroo, KENMA, Sakusa, EREN, Jean
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A/N. I’m ngl this is very much self-indulgent pls.
Plagiarism not authorized.
2K notes · View notes
yellowharrington · 22 days
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save a horse (ride a cowboy!) -- joel miller x reader
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pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)
word count: 3.9k
warnings/notes: smut and porn!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. age gap (joel is at least 10 years older). drinking (both reader and joel), unprotected PIV, oral (f receiving), spanking, dirty talk, car sex. if i missed anything lmk!
a/n: recommended listening: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich. honourable mention to austin by dasha bc it's been on repeat. please take the time to leave comments/reblog if you liked it <3 thank u for reading!! divider by @cafekitsune
summary: meeting an older man at the bar and spontaneously fucking him in his truck was not on your list of things to do for your first summer back in austin, but what can you do?
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You hate going dancing.
Sweaty clubs with bodies brushing up against one another, sticky with the hot summer heat, confined to the walls of a crowded bar and beer sticking to the bottom of your shoes. Not the way you plan to spend your first Saturday night back in Austin for the summer, but Maddy is so convincing, your hand clasped around yours, a pleading look in her eyes. 
“I promise. It’s so fun. We’ll invite Kaylee and Erin and it’ll be a whole thing.”
You rolled your eyes at her, slipping your hand out from between hers. “Fine. One drink, one dance.”
She squealed with excitement and clapped her hands together, stepping up from the small cafe table. “We can pregame at mine. Wear that black top you have.”
You nod, thinking of the top in question. A corseted black thing that didn’t leave much to the imagination, breasts spilling out of the stop beneath the tight stitching. You think it probably got shoved to the back of your closet somewhere.
~
Joel hates going dancing.
Well, he doesn’t hate dancing. He just isn’t good at it, and hasn’t gone since his very early twenties. And he certainly would not be interested in spending the evening with Tommy at a country bar in downtown Austin, surrounded by women who would grimace at a pair of old men taking up a table.
But Tommy is convincing, hands gesturing around him annoyingly, until Joel gives in. “Fine. One drink. Then I’m leavin’.”
“This city is swarming with beautiful women,” Tommy says, knocking back another sip of his hot coffee. “And you’re too holed up inside to meet any of ‘em.”
“I like my own company,” Joel starts, bringing his own coffee mug to the sink. “Some of us are happy by ourselves.”
Tommy snorts, a hand clapping onto Joel’s shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, big shot. We’ll see when there’s a bunch of hotties in front of ya, then you can tell me that you like being alone.”
Joel gags at his use of the word ‘hotties’, and pulls his work boots on. “I can still change my mind, ya know.”
Night falls over the suburbs of Austin, taking the sunshine but leaving the humid, sweet heat in the air. You’re surrounded by your friends at Maddy’s apartment, a light pink gloss swiping across your lips. You’ve managed to dig out the top she had mentioned earlier, tied in a tight bow at the back. Your dark jeans hit just below it, letting slivers of smooth skin show, which somehow seemed sluttier than the fact your boobs were practically falling out of the top. Your jeans outlined the plump curve of your ass, a pair of dark cowboy boots adorning your calves. The last time you’d dressed like this was a long time ago, so it felt a little foreign, but not uncomfortable.
The cab ride to the bar is eventful, with 4 girls singing along to the songs on the radio at the top of your lungs. You were already a drink or two deep, having done some brightly coloured shot at Maddy’s house, taking it without thinking. You still weren’t planning on doing anything insane tonight, and bar drinks were expensive, so this was probably the best it was going to get for you.
The car pulls up to the bar and waits for you all to pour out, flashing your IDs to the bouncer, sliding inside past the thrums of people already inside. The bar was almost full, dance floor packed, drinks being poured by every bartender. Neon signs and amber lamps served as the only lighting for the establishment, already making things feel fuzzy around the edges for you.
Joel sits at a rickety wooden table in the corner of the bar with Tommy, scratching the wet label off of his beer bottle. He had fished out a plaid t-shirt from his closet, his usual jeans taught across his thighs and a pair of nicer boots than his work ones on his feet. His hair was pushed back, curls still lapping at the nape of his neck and curves of his ear. He was noticeably older than the other patrons of the bar, painfully aware of that fact, he felt rather uncomfortable. Tommy didn’t seem to mind, feet tapping at the beer-washed hardwood. “Stop lookin’ so mad,” he remarks, close to Joel’s ear. “You’ll scare ‘em all away.”
There are groups of people pouring in from outside, bachelorette parties and frat boys, making Joel feel unbelievably out of place. It was hard to lighten up when he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing here.
The doors open once more, your group of friends pushing their way through the sea of people, hand in hand. Joel notices, one girl in a cowboy hat, one in denim jean cutoffs, one with a big belt buckle that glints pink against the light. 
Then he notices you.
His face softens as you follow behind your friends, as they push to the front of the line for a drink. He’s got 10 years on you, easy, but that doesn’t stop his cock twitching against the zipper of his suddenly too-tight jeans.
Soft curves, a top that fits you just right, and jeans that accentuate the dips and lines of your body. You’ve got warm energy, a bright smile adorning your glossed lips. 
You barely even notice him, until you turn around and make eye contact, your shining eyes meeting his. He’s too handsome for his own good, biceps and shoulders pressed tight against the sleeves of his shirt. He’s got his thighs spread across the chair he’s sitting in, towards you, almost like he wants you to come and just sit right on his lap.
You offer a small smile across the dim bar, taking your drink and following your friends to the last open table they’d spotted. A high top, back to the stranger now, giving him the opportunity to see your shape. He swears you’re sticking your ass out on purpose, so he can see the soft skin where your jeans meet the bottom of your top. 
“Joel,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the bustle of the bar. “If you’re gonna be so fuckin’ miserable, we can go. There’s another place-“
Joel stops him, teetering his beer towards his brother. “This is fine. We can stay for another round.”
You pull yourself away from the group after finishing your round of sugary drinks and shots, your head beginning to buzz. “I’ll get the next ones,” you giggle, pushing yourself out of your seat and steadying yourself on the ground. “Green tea shots?” The girls hoot and holler back to you, as you turn on your heels towards the crowded bar. 
Joel gets up, almost looking panicked, when he sees that you’re leaving your group. He downs the rest of his beer and tips his head towards Tommy, as if to ask, “another?”. Tommy nods and sits back in his chair, continuing to observe. Joel makes a beeline, able to slide right beside you in line.
You can smell the cologne and laundry detergent on his clothes while he stands behind you, shuffling on his feet. You can almost feel his nerves, radiating off of his large form. 
He can smell your perfume and shampoo, it’s intoxicating. 
Joel is served first, the bartender leaning forward to listen to his request. “Two Buds, and uh,” you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. If you couldn’t see that it was him, someone would have a black eye.
“What are you drinkin’, darlin’?”
His voice is sweet like honey as he dips down to be so unbelievably close to your ear, his hand now on the side of your arm. Heat spreads up your neck at his proximity. 
“Oh, I’m getting like 4 shots, you don’t have to-“
“What kinda shots?”
“Uh, green tea. Green tea shots.”
“And four green tea shots.”
The bartender nods as Joel slides his cash across the bar, turning, and looking down at you slightly. You feel impossibly small in that moment.
“You really did not have to do that, thank you.” You’re on your tip toes, a hand pressed against his chest now, lips as close to his ear as you can get. 
He shivers. He can’t remember the last time someone was this close to him in this way. 
“No problem,” he waves it off, taking the two beers by the neck of the bottle and moving over slightly for you to grab the shots. 
Your ass brushes across the front of his jeans, and he knows it’s intentional.
“Thanks again for the drinks,” and you’ve disappeared back into the crowd in a second.
Oh. Nevermind.
He can’t help but feel a little dejected, slinking back to his seat with Tommy and passing him his beer. “Struck out, huh?”
“Shut up.”
Joel watches your table still, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. Pretty stupid of him to think you’d want to fraternize with a man such as himself, so much older than you. Maybe he’d come off too strong?
His head is all but hanging in his hands when he watches you get up again, your friends coming along with you. He averts his eyes in embarrassment, not noticing that you’re making your way over to his table.
Tommy notices.
“Ladies!” He draws out, hands thrown up in the air. Joel looks up then, locking in eyes with you immediately.
“Didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did ya cowboy?” A smile tugs at his lips as you extend a hand to him. “After you were so nice?”
He laughs a little, your other friend taking a hold of Tommy and pulling him towards the crowded dance floor. He’s very easily persuaded.
“Come dance with me!”
“Oh, I’m not a dancer,” he laughs, warm and honeyed. It makes heat pool in your core.
“Neither am I. Come anyways.”
All he can do is obey, taking your hand and letting you lead him away from the table. 
~
The music pulses under your feet as you end up in a tight line, shoulder to shoulder. He can’t stop looking at you, leaning down to speak into your ear. 
“I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I didn’t know how to dance,” he explains, and his breath is hot against the curve of your ear.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it when we start goin’. Just follow me.”
And I saddle up my horse
And I ride into the city
I make a lot of noise
Cause the girls
They are so pretty
Joel’s eyes are parked on your body as you start to move along to the steps of the line dance, feet tapping against the hard wood of the floor beneath you. Your hands are up by your face, clapping along to the beat. He tries to follow along, at least stepping in the right direction, clapping at the right time, but it’s no use.
Your body is insatiable - hips rolling to the pounding music. The curves and lines of your ass, paired with the soft tissue of your breasts nearly busting out of the top you chose to wear. Your skin is supple, shining against the dance floor lights that are favouring him right now as he lets a red blush engulf the skin of his cheeks and neck. 
He wonders what it looks like underneath, peeled off and bunched up around your ankles, or thrown on the floor of his bedroom. He thinks of fingering the ties of your shirt, loosening them and pushing it off, his hand across the front of your throat as he makes you look at yourself. How pretty you are. Goosebumps spread across the exposed skin of his arm.
You grab his hand suddenly, and he’s taken out of his daydream. Your eyes are fiery as you let yourself get even closer to him, feeling bold enough to put his hand across the small of your back.
“Follow me,” you command, as he looks down at the footwork you’re doing along to the song.
Riding up and down Broadway
On my old stud Leroy
And the girls say
Save a horse, ride a cowboy!
He attempts to follow it again, egged on by the feeling of your hot skin against his thumb. He could honestly maybe cum just from this touch alone if he really tried.
It’s not actually as hard as he thought, if he concentrates. A few steps, repeated over and over again, until it comes naturally. You notice how easily he picks it up, smiling up at him, beaming up while he’s lost in thought. 
The song picks up, and the whole floor is enthralled by the dance. You see Joel’s smile light up the room, and he hasn’t dared to move his hand from your back. You don’t mind.
When your body turns toward his, he halts before almost running into you, still following the steps along to the song.
“Do you wanna get out of here?”
Your words take him by surprise, but they are not unwelcome. 
“Yes.” His hand envelops yours as he takes a look at Tommy, seeing that he’s still in the throws of the song with your friends.
Your hand leads him off the dance floor and towards the club bathroom, but he stops you, lips close to your ear again. “My truck is parked out back, if we want, a little more, um,” he clears his throat, “privacy.”
“Show me the way,” you smile, letting him pull you out the doors and into the darkness of the parking lot. 
He fishes for his keys nervously when you get to the side of his truck, an older model with blue paint. He can’t remember the last time he did anything like this, if he ever has, and it’s getting to his head.
“Let’s get in the back seat,” you say, taking him out of his trance. “Wanna feel you.”
He lets you in first, pushing across the bench seating as he slides in beside you. There’s a moment of awkwardness, before your hand reaches out to touch his denim-clad thigh. His breath hitches.
“Relax,” your smile is intoxicating to him, and he’s drinking you in. “We’re just here to have a little fun.”
He lets himself lurch forward, your lips pressed against his fervently. They’re rough and chapped, but cold from the beer he’d been nursing earlier, offering you some reprieve. 
Your hand snakes up his chest to the side of his throat, pulling him in to come closer and delve deeper. His tongue comes out to lick across your teeth and press against the soft wetness of your tongue, as his hand comes up to palm your breasts over your top, grabbing at any flesh he can get his fingers on. 
He quickly and deftly finds the bow Maddy had tied on the back, pulling it loose and letting the fabric relax so you he could pull it off of your form.
His hands began to explore the soft skin of your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you arch into him and let a strained moan come from your lips.
“Fuck,” is all you can think to say, because his large hands are spread across your back, forcing you closer, and into him. Soft moans escape your lips as you let him take what he needs from you.
“Off,” he commands suddenly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and yanking them down, after you pop the button and undo the zipper. Your boots have come off at some point in the tussle, and now you’re naked in the back seat of a stranger’s car with not much to say for yourself.
You push his flannel down his shoulders as his weight hovers over you, revealing how strong he really is. Rippling biceps beneath his tight shirt, strong chest, kind eyes. 
You’re lying beneath him, when his hands come up under your thighs to push them apart and expose your pussy to him. He kneels between your soft thighs, thankful for the dark night sky around him, as he delves into your heat with his warm tongue.
You see stars when he makes first contact, a broad stripe of his tongue sending you into space. He’s hungry for it, immediately suckling onto your clit and wrapping his lips around it, strong hands still pushing your thighs apart. He’s taking his time to taste you, wild and intricate, feeling the bulge in his jeans strain against the zipper.
“Oh, fuck,” you manage to get out, in between breathless moans. Your hand came down to tangle in his hair, feeling the soft locks between your fingers, enjoying the way he’s making your hips roll onto his face. You can’t help but rut against him, soaking his wet mouth with your slick, using him to get yourself off.
He’s moaning into your pussy, working his own now-free cock in one of his hands, while the other delves two fingers into your core. Your breath catches in your throat when he fills you, stretching you open and wide for him, hitting the perfect spot to make your stomach start to spasm as you threatened to unravel beneath him.
“Fuck, so good, so so good,” you laugh breathlessly, the ecstasy beginning to take over as he continued to work your pussy, and you felt the familiar white-hot feeling along the back of your thighs.
“I’m gonna, — oh my god,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was tonguing at you harder, eyes flickering up to watch you. “I’m gonna fucking come.”
“Good girl,” he growls into you, only offering you momentary reprieve from his tongue before using the rest of his energy to help you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your hips bucked and spasmed against him, the windows fogging up with your hot breath as you fucked yourself on his fingers. He let you pull on his hair as moans tumbled from your lips, breathless and spent.
When you managed to come down, he took his fingers from inside you and pumped his cock a few times, now bobbing in between the two of you as he slid himself up your body to kiss up your chest and capture your soft lips into a kiss.
“Sit back,” you whispered, pushing on his chest to bring him back sitting upright. His jeans were pooled around his ankles now, and you had pulled his t-shirt over his head to meet the other clothes on the floor of the truck. You positioned yourself across his lap, pumping his cock a few times and feeling the girth around your fingers.
He looked blissed out, head against the headrest, savouring the feeling of your pretty hand around him. If he looked down between your two bodies he might come right then, at the sight. 
“You did so much work, baby,” you coo, sitting down on his thick cock and bottoming out immediately, just to watch his lips fall open and eyes flutter close at how tight you are. “Made me cum so easy.”
Your lips latch onto his neck as you kiss and lap at the rough skin, letting your hips rock back and forth, slowly at first. Getting used to his length inside of you would’ve been tough if he hadn’t opened you up so easily beforehand. 
“Move,” his hands come to your waist, lightly forcing you to grind down on his lap. His cock was hitting inside of you so perfectly as you swallowed him into your body, looking down as his head lulled back against the seat. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he started, letting you set the pace of your hips, hand coming up to paw at your breast once more.
“You like this cock, don’t you?” You nod, letting your hand come to the seat behind his head and steadying yourself before beginning to bounce in his lap. “Yeah, fuck, yeah I do.”
He’s in his element now, any and all shyness from the newness of the situation melting away as he pounded into you mercilessly. The truck was no doubt shaking back and forth a little, a steadying hand print the only window to the outside world. Joel didn’t even care if people could see, they’d just be jealous.
“I’m gonna, fuck-,” he starts, eyes cloudy at the edges, vision fuzzy as he looked up at you. You were fucked out, cock-drunk on him, watching as he was coming undone underneath you as you squeezed around him. “Oh yeah?” You tease, not letting up on the rhythm of your hips, his hand coming down to your ass in a firm slap.
You moaned then, arching your back into him and sitting back. “Where do you want me?”
He’s desperate to cum now. Even the thought of your pretty face beneath him, taking his hot ropes on your soft pink lips is making him jerk forward into you with need.
He pushes you off, and you wince from the loss of contact. He’s fisting his cock above you right away, pink tip ready to explode any second at the sight of you, tits pressed together. Your mouth is open, and he sticks his fingers in between your lips as you moan around them, tasting yourself.
“Cum all over me,” you start, pinching your nipples with your free hand. “Fuck, I want it.”
It’s enough for his knees to buckle and hot cum to shoot all over your stomach and tits, painting you white with his seed. His eyes squeeze shut as you watch him ride his orgasm out, balls emptying onto you as he slows down and regains consciousness, taking a second to drink you in when he can open his eyes again. 
Your breath is heaving as you take a finger to swipe some of his cum onto your finger, dipping the digit into your mouth. His brows furrow together as he pulls you up to kiss your lips, devouring you, hands coming up to each side of your face as if to thank you for such a good time.
“Been a while since I did anything like that,” he laughs, and you follow shyly. “You got like, a napkin?” You giggle, as he grabs something in the front seat for you to clean up with. “Thanks. That was fun.”
He nods in agreement, catching his breath before pulling his t-shirt over his head. “I suppose we should go back in there,” he checks his appearance in the rearview mirror, all blushed and fucked out. 
You put your top back on over your body, turning towards him. “Can you lace me back up, please?”
His hands begin to work at you, tightening a bow at the bottom much like it had been done before.
A thought crossed your mind that made a giggle escape your lips. “What?” Joel asked, amused, pulling his jeans back on over his hips. 
“I don’t think I ever got your name.”
He laughs too, thinking of the events that had transpired given neither of you knew such a basic piece of information. 
“I guess we can stick with cowboy.”
1K notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 9 months
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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - y/n jane porter (you) decides to prove men wrong by searching for the lost man, and you happen upon him after insulting a bunch of baboons, only to realise that you will never leave again.
warning - smut, dubcon, chase, marking, insulting animals, swearing, oral sex, creampie, kidnapping/held hostage?
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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You huffed as you stalked the forest, searching for a man who had been lost to the world. Explorers have searched high and low for him but have yet to succeed. You were determined to be different, to prove to them that you could find the lost man. Secretly though, you knew he would be feral, not even knowing what a woman was and the pleasure you could bring him. You hiked up your light yellow dress, white-gloved hands scrunching the material between your fists. You spin when you hear a sound, looking up into the trees, and your eyes widen when you notice the many baboons staring down at you. 
“Oh, hello.” You look closer, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose. “You’re quite ugly creatures, aren’t you?” You stumble back when they begin to screech, looking ready to attack, and you put your hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just…” Your words are lost to them, and you start running as some of them jump from the trees and chase you, the others swinging through the branches. You pick up your pace, dodging trees and rocks, trying your best not to trip or get caught. You feel your breath shorten, and your lungs burn. A scream escapes you as your foot gets caught on a root, but before you can fall, something or someone grabs you, swinging you away from the baboons. 
You screw your eyes shut, not daring to look at what had grabbed you, feeling it would be better if you didn’t see what fate had planned for you. Your brows scrunched as you felt whoever or whatever was placing you down softly, and your eyes widened when you opened them, noticing the man everyone had been searching for. The lost man had saved you from being torn to shreds, and the excitement caused a jolt between your legs. You scanned his physic, noticing how tanned and beautiful he looked. Your eyes landed on his face lastly, eyeing the moustache and imagining what it would feel like in between your thighs, his unbrushed hair all curled and wild, like him. 
Tangerine’s head tilts, doing the same to you. He was curious, never having seen someone like you before. He’s seen others that look like him, but none so… Beautiful, so soft looking. He licked his lips, scanning you like you were a meal for him to feast on. He glared when you lifted your hand, and you returned it with a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you… I’m Y/n Jane Porter. Do you have a name?” Tangerine grunts, lifting his hand and cautiously placing it against yours, thinking of his words. You squeeze your legs together at his touch, causing his eyes to snap down to the sweet nectar that lies between your thighs. 
Tangerine’s hand moves from yours and taps his chest. “Tangerine.” Your eyes widen as the words fall from his lips, and you offer a soft smile.
“Like the fruit?” Your head tilts, knowing another name that would fit him. Tarzan stays on the tip of your tongue as you watch him.
He grunts again and stops, looking around before roughly grabbing you, causing a gasp to pass your lips. “Danger.” He growls. You are lifted onto the large man’s shoulders again as he begins to swing away just in time as the baboons swing, missing you by inches. Tangerine lands roughly on the ground. After a while of swinging and making sure you were no longer being followed, he lets you get off of him. You fall as your legs feel shaky, and you stumble back. He spins, eyeing you more, gazing at your exposed legs. 
You clear your throat, brushing the dirt from your dress. “Thank you again.” Your chest moves up and down as you breathe heavily. You try and keep your eyes from looking at the bulge hidden behind the tiny cloth. Tangerine’s eyes lock to your heaving chest. You watch as they become black, filling with feral lust. He stalks towards you, backing you into a tree. You feel your cunt pulse, the large man turning you on. “W–what are you doing?” You gulp, squeezing your thighs together when he traps you against the wood.
“Me do you.” Tangerine growls. He grabs your hips, dragging you onto the ground and climbing over you. “Stay… Still.” He grunts, trapping you with his large body and rubbing his bulge against your dripping cunt. Tangerine had never felt something so incredible, and he hadn’t even explored that far yet. He sits on his legs, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust and hunger, growling as your dress becomes annoying. Tangerine grips the material, shredding it and causing you to squeal and squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Annoying” You don’t know why, but this feral man's few words turn you on. 
You whimper, subconsciously spreading your legs for him, watching his mouth open and close as he glares between your legs, watching your pretty pussy drip. Tangerine growls as he dives in, lapping at your sweet cunt. Your back arches, and you let out a scream that echoes through the many trees. Your hands curl into the ground, legs slamming shut around his head as he continues to feast on your cunt, licking and sucking, wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl and sucking, flicking the sensitive little bud with his tongue. You move your hand into his hair, gripping the untamed locks, pulling him closer. “O–Oh! That feels so good!” You exclaim, feeling the band inside you tighten, ready to snap. “Keep going, please!” Your eyes screw shut, and your toes curl, but suddenly everything stops, and you open them again. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?” You felt furious, sexually frustrated. This was the most pleasure you had felt in your entire life, and you couldn’t let it slip from your fingertips. 
Tangerine growls and your eyes widen when you watch him grab himself. The tiny cloth has tented massively and keeps nothing hidden. He rips the pathetic material from his body and throws it aside, tilting his head as you make an embarrassingly loud choking sound. You look at him and back to his cock repeatedly, staring with your mouth open. “That’s not going to fit inside me.” Even as you say those words, your walls clench as you watch his cock twitch. 
Tangerine grunts, shrugging. He crawls on top of you, forcefully placing your legs onto his shoulder and tapping your gaping hole with his swollen tip. “Fit.” You gasp as he begins to push in, his hair covering his face as he puts his head down, never having felt something so good. “Good” The grunt he lets out causes you to clench around him and his hips to thrust forward, forcing his way deeper inside you. Your head rolls back into the dirt, closing your eyes as he picks up his pace, releasing the animal buried deep inside of him. Tangerine slams hard and fast into you, his cock so large it feels like he’s in your stomach. If possible, the bulge that forms causes him to become even more feral.
Your hands fly up and grip his arms, digging your nails into him before whimpering when he pulls out and flips you around, pushing your face into the dirt and lifting your hips before plunging back into you, grunting and growling as he fucks you like an animal. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll back, clawing into the ground and clutching onto it, trying to find something to ground yourself too. Tangerine grips your hips, pounding against you, moaning when he feels you grip his cock like a vice, dragging him deeper into you and allowing him to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “Ah! Oh! Fuck… Right there!” You whine, fucking and grinding your hips back into him, wanting to feel him more. 
Tangerine pulls out again, your mind too fuzzy to get angry as he grabs you and pushes you against the tree, wrapping your legs around his waist and reentering your sweet cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucks up into you, his lips against your neck, marking you as his. You are so close, feeling your walls pulsate and clench around the feral man, feeling so dirty and full. “I–I’m close!” Tangerine grunts, slamming harder into you, pinning you against the tree, not caring if the bark marks your flesh. Your vision goes white, and your body goes slack in his arms as your orgasm rips through you, squeezing his cock and coating it with your cream.
A growl rips through the large man. Tangerine bites into your shoulder, fucking deeper as he feels his balls tighten. He had only experienced this when he’d touch himself, teasing his cock and balls until he was close to cumming before stopping and repeating. He knew the release would feel amazing, causing him to continue to thrust, his hand moving between your bodies, locating your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing. Your back arches, causing another orgasm to rip through you, and Tangerine groans, releasing his cum deep inside you, filling you with thick amounts as you squeeze his cock.
Your head slumps against his chest, your chest moving up and down heavily as you try and catch your breath. Your walls pulsate around his still-hard cock, wondering how he could still be ready for more. Tangerine cups the back of your neck, grunting as he makes you look at him. He grins, leaning close as he slowly begins to thrust again. “Mine.” 
The growl can still be heard as you realise you will never be able to leave again, but maybe that was a good thing.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.
Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.
Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!
Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.
It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.
Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.
It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.
But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.
One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.
Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.
"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.
"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.
She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.
"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."
"I'm not paying for your meal."
"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"
She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."
Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.
She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.
She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.
As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.
Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.
"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.
"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."
She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."
Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."
"I can do it if you-"
"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."
Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"
"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.
Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.
Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.
Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.
What had alarmed Dani so much?
"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."
Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."
She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.
He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.
A small victory.
Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.
"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."
"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."
"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.
To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.
Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.
He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"
Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)
Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."
The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.
"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."
"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.
Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face
"Bruce?"
"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."
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tarjapearce · 5 months
Text
Poppy Blue
Blue Jones! Miguel x Baby Doll! Reader.
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Art by @marbipa on x
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Power play, choking kink, rough sex, mentions of abuse, preying, toxic and perverted behavior, implicit clandestine and illegal activities, lobotomy, dissociation, implicit depersonalization, objectification, hate sex, manhandling, violence, sub space. No Proofread.
Summary: Messy things ~ (I guess?) Miguel as Blue Jones from Sucker Punch.
A/N: Watched Sucker Punch last night and... yeah. Had to get this out of my system. ~ Another one for the Miguelverse ~
Masterlist
All it took was a bullet. Aimed at your assailant with no intentions of missing. Yet you did. You missed, failed terribly so. His chest was your goal, instead it went directly to his shoulder.
Projectile ripping and scorching skin, tissue and muscle in the go, earning a shaky and pained yelp. But it was the least he deserved after trying to be sneaky on your sister, that laid cold and bled out in the floor. She was no match for his knife and his blood thirst of the night. The rest was a blur.
And now, you were dragged down to the wet and dull greys walls of your future home. Lennox House. Or rather Lennox Asylum for the Mentally Ill.
Everything about the place screamed danger, everything about the people working in the monstrosity of place yelled I'm no better.
Barefoot, soaked in rain, holding your new uniform and gazing at the biggest man you've seen in you life, holding a bunch of keys while his eyes bore into you.
The way he stared made your skin crawl and it didn't help your clothes clung to your body. Arms braced the uniform closer to your chest, trying to cover it up. His eyes wandered to the man behind you, a police officer with three scratched lines into his face. You hadn't left him unscathed. Not when he tried to play rough with you back at your old home.
The man showed you around, place was as depressing as it was from the outside, but The Theater took the prize.
Girls your age dressed in gray, socializing in the area. And by socializing it'd mean to watch them either receive therapy with a polish beautiful woman named Vera Gorski, or watch them fight over the stupidest things. But who could blame them?
Some probably had enough time inside that had memorized the cracks in the wall, the scratches on the floor, the number of chewed gums underneath the table or how many dust particles were accumulated in the windows. Gray. Everything was gray and dull.
Even the voice of the men behind you talking about a price for your silence were tiresome and dry. Two thousand. That's what your memories were valued as. A number you now hated.
Corrupt pigs
The police officer gave you a gentle push forward as a nurse came to fetch you. The simple touch of that man made your skin revolt and slapped him hard across his wilting face, a scowl on your grimace that slowly turned into a smirk as the police officer tried to catch you, but you were being dragged away by two nurses into a life that would turn your head upside down and backwards, the many times it saw fit until you'd understand that you weren't in charge.
Until you'd understand your purpose.
Dance.
"If you don't dance, you have no purpose."
Madam Gorski murmured to you. Pretty, dangerous and aware of the many many situations revolving in the brothel. Cause in truth, the asylum was just an alibi and a frontage for the real deal. House Lennox. A house of pleasure.
Bets, drinks, sex, meds and a hell of a show to anyone that filled Miguel's pockets.
The main attraction? Girls that society deemed unfit to keep within her picky guts. Too into messy situations to keep the pretense around relatives. Too fucked up to function properly but good enough to mold and shape into something useful, and too tempting to break even further.
She mumbled while circling you, her dark eyes scrutinized you unabashedly, taking in everything her sight could reach. Pursing her pouty lips upon your body.
Pretty, scared, still holding a grip on reality while trying to swallow a really hard to deglute pill, and oh so perfect for a new purpose.
"We do not keep things in here that serve no purpose."
The collide of her cane on the floor was like a metronome, setting the pace to enter a forbidden place, somewhere that none could reach but you. Mind splitting in two, dissociating soul from conscience, leaving an empty, moving vessel behind. You were free for a moment. And now you wanted more, more of that place where your imagination ran rampant.
Where Gorski's words meant nothing, where the guards had no power, where you were allowed to break down and feel without second intentions or being frowned upon. But mainly, without Miguel’s preying gaze licking you raw while undressing your form with it.
But the clapping and praising brought you back to this reality. Red eyes fell upon you, studying, raking over your body upside down, stopping at your thighs to then go back to your flushed and breathless face.
Mr. O'Hara. Miguel 'Blue' O'Hara. The asylum guard, the key bearer, perverted pimp, and your new shadow.
Ever since that dance many things changed.
Even though you danced, duties in the asylum weren't to be neglected. If you said no, you'd get a visit to the hole.
If you didn't dance, you'd get a visit to the hole.
But if you didn't do things Miguel's way, you'd get a personal talk with him, and then a visit to the hole.
And those talks, surely weren't words.
Scrubbing the floors gave you the chance to listen a bit of everything. Girl's derangements, psychotic outbreaks, mumblings that were filled in with regret and many more flourishing emotions; the ever loud music from the cook, and the unceasing mewls and obscene noises coming from Miguel's office.
Some girls misbehaved on purpose, just to get a taste of him. Others did anything to draw his attention to them, specially in the dance floor. But you knew better to anger him.
Sure, pleasure came in hand with a high price. He wasn't good, he wasn't nice nor gentle, matter-of-factly some girls cried during their one on one sessions and the degradation only enhanced the tears.
Sick fuck.
Gorski's alarms flared up upon seeing belt marks on their legs and ass, bites in their inner thighs and bruises on their hips. Eyes a bit too gone and tired to actually work in anything. They might have spread the gossip around of Miguel fucking them, and even enjoyed it.
But the aftermath of it, said otherwise. And it was enough to keep you on check, but even so he was pulled to you like a magnet so strong you could see the refrain in his eyes every time he approached you.
Hands shaky, tongue rubbing and wetting his plump lips, a soft flush on his cheeks and pleading eyes. A silent 'Let me play too' cause he wasn't allowed to touch, or taste you. Instead, he'd use the girls willing to please him to take his anger out. Their bodies meant nothing, they meant nothing cause they weren't you.
They didn't have your body, they didn't have your sweet voice that distorted into moans and gasps that he'd kill to induce every time you danced, but above all, they didn't have your spark.
That little interaction with the police when you first arrived, had him folding on a bathroom, stroking himself to oblivion at the mere sound of your slaps.
Unbeknownst to you, you held so much power over him. Power he was set to dull, because he was the only one in control. Not even Gorski and her stupid polish methods to get in the rest's head. He ran the place and had it under control.
For how long though?
You wanted out. His little Poppy wanted out and surely would get everything to be free and leave him, forsake him in this damned place.
Anger flowed within his veins like molten lava upon remembering how other men looked at you, how other men wanted you. They'd possibly been imagining how good and tight your insides would feel cause the way you moved when you were up in the stage, was surreal. It was like another person took over.
But he, a sick fuck through and through, would want both. No. He'd have both. He craved and needed both, even better when you were dressed in such things that only added more dry bones to his needy fire.
Fucking lucky of them to feel you and be a your second skin. Even that stupid and everything but innocent uniform you were to dress every day, stirring up enough to let him take a peek of your panties, or the stockings underneath that remained etched on your supple thighs he'd often fantasize in getting lost between.
He just had to wait for you to misbehave. But sadly you didn't seem keen into breaking the rules. He'd wait.
---
"Stormy, come."
Vera called another girl. Whoever gave their names either knew them too well or picked random words in a go. Gorski too engrossed into her lessons to notice you had been dragged away by other guards under Miguel's petition.
Had you forgotten about something? No. Surely not. Last week's chores were fulfilled completely, the bathrooms were clean, the kitchen's dishes turn were washed up, and so were the floors. Your wrists sore, a reminder to ask for a new brush.
And-
Shit.
Fuck.
The laundry.
Some dancers had ran out of stockings, lingerie, and some sheets from the brothel needed to be replaced ASAP.
But you, Poppy, as Vera had called you and it stuck with the rest ever since, had trouble. Just cause you had forgotten about the damn laundry.
Miguel's formidable frame came into view, he was on a call, lying on how well someone's daughter was doing after a lobotomy. How they didn't have to worry about her anymore.
Your stomach felt sick and your heart leaped on your chest once he ended up the call. The guards had been long gone, leaving you with your shadow alone.
If honest, you knew Miguel either followed or kept you watched under hawk's eyes. Time stopped as soon as he turned to face you.
Pupils wide blown as soon as you came into his sight.
"My sweet, sweet Poppy."
He inhaled deeply and clasped his hands together before his face. An uncontainable smirk morphed into a light titter.
"You've been a bad girl, princesa."
His hands slamming on the table before him made you jolt and blink at his sudden mood shift.
"We..." He wetted his lips as he came behind you, "We were counting on you, Mi cielo. But... you failed us. Failed me."
A gulp as his breath fanned over the crook of your neck.
"You see..." His big and long fingers brushing your hair away from the right side of your head joint, "Now I gotta improvise something for the next show. "
"I'm sorry, I forgot-"
His hand took a hold of your neck and the contact made him growl. Warm, smooth, feeling every heartbeat underneath his big and calloused palms.
Lips dangerously close to your ear, breathing and panting as he pulled you closer to him, your back colliding against his torso and abdomen.
"Shh"
He hushed while taking a big whiff off you. A mix of soap, perfume and cigarettes. His hand squeezed tighter, earning a lovely and sweet yelp from you as he pushed you against his desk.
Your eyes widened in surprise upon feeling the hardening cock in between the slot of your thighs, poking, begging to be released and finally take you.
"You remind me of someone. Too bad she lost her spark."
His hand riled the skirt of your uniform up, passing up some layers of extra clothing, your underwear and stockings. Hand plunged inside to finally allowing his fingers to have a sample of your flesh.
"But I'm keeping yours alight, sweetheart."
His cock twitched when he found your clit. Fingers dexterous and peeling the outer folds away to give a gentle rub before you closed your legs almost instantly. A little delaid reaction, your brain was still processing it.
You went completely still when he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. He sucked them off with hunger, groaning and trembling at the taste.
"Por Dios, preciosa..."
You tried to pry his hand out of your neck but the struggle made his breathings more labored and needy as he humped and ground against you from behind. Letting his tip to speak volumes at how hard and wanton he was. How bad you made him react. How much power you had over him.
Of course.
The idea of having him subdued to you assaulted your mind. Pressuring you into pleading, just like your clit that clenched and twitched upon having his tip rubbing in a slow yet firm strokes.
His hands went back inside your panties, searching for the nub of nerves that had you melting. Tongue skimming at the tender skin of your neck.
Just as he was about to bury a finger knuckle deep, the ever annoying voice of Vera urging Miguel from outside the door, asking for you. Her dear and lovely Poppy.
"Chingada madre" (Fucking shit)
He sighed with an exasperated growl and looked at the door.
"The fuck you want?!"
"I need Poppy on the practice. Now."
Where was the shocking baton when he needed it the most?
For once, you were relieved to know that you didn't go unnoticed under Gorski's watch. She protected the girls in her own way.
Knees trembled as he kept the hand inside. A little miscalculation had you whimpering while his fingers remained trapped in your flesh. His eyes snapped back on you with a smirk.
A hand clasped on top of your mouth, suffocating any moans as he worked his fingers between your pussy. Touching and prodding at the forbidden flesh, a moan vibrated through his hand with a high pitched Hmm
"I'll get her to you right away!"
Miguel yelled while working his fingers harder and faster, alternating between rubbing and fucking your hole with them.
"Spread your legs wider, pretty baby" The husk of his voice made you close your eyes and hips hump ever shyly at his hands. Gaining as much friction as possible.
"Miguel, I need her now."
He grumbled under his breath while moving his hands faster. The wet smooch and sucking squelch had him humping against your panties, breaths agitated, muttering something you could only decipher as filth in spanish, your hands clenched onto him, tightly fisted on his clothes.
Just a bit more
He heard Vera cursing in her native tongue as he prodded his fingers inside, toying with your opening. Stretching and fucking it at his likings.
"You fucking little slut"
He tittered while rubbing furiously in your clit. A bit too rough that had you bucking and trembling in his arms. If his hands made you quiver and melt he couldn't wait to see what his cock could do. You drenched his fingers.
Said fingers were cleaned up again by his mouth with a droopy and pleasure drunk face.
Despite having your legs shaky, he held you by the hips, and forced you to grab onto his desk. His hands quickly fumbled with his pants and boxers, pulling his cock out.
He stroked a couple of times, tip susceptible to stimulation. He pulled the panties aside, your stockings the only barrier between you and his erection. The flimsy layer of clothes instantly adhered to your soaked skin, He pushed in between your thighs, rubbing his cock back and forth with slow thrust against your pussy. His hot length brushed against the already engorged and sensitive nub.
The tightness of your warm thighs smooshed together created the perfect friction hole for him without actually penetrating you. So close and yet so far of that forbidden territory. Soft mewls and whimpers came out your mouth, too enraptured in feeling than verbalizing your pleasure.
He also needed his toys. Specially his favorite. Stockings were thoroughly soaked the more he pushed his cock in and out. Labia clothed and slicked parted to feel his shallow moves. He used you as his fleshlight, his hips smacking yours. His chest rumbled with animalistic and low growls.
His hands were clumsy as the pleasure turned overwhelming, you could see the flushed tip of him peeking out your thighs, the urge of tasting him turned bigger the faster he went. You were trying so hard to keep it as quiet as possible.
"Wished I was inside you, don't you?"
You gasped as he purposely angled his tip in your dripping hole. A shivering breath was all he received.
He took you by your chin and squeezed
"Don't you?!"
"Y-Yes!"
"Yes, what?!"
"Yes, sir."
Jesus fucking Christ.
He pushed in deeper in your cunt, his cock pushed a bit of the stockings inside as he doused it with his cum, unable to hold back any longer, marking you.
You had never heard a man pant and wheeze like that before. So deep, raspy, needy, cradling you tighter, anchoring to you as he shook his orgasm out.
"Fuck- Ay Dios, fuckfuck-"
He slurred while engulfing your frame against the table. Breathings matching his erratic ones.
Your skin between supple thighs felt clammy and sticky. Black stockings ruined completely by the white and wet patch of his scent.
Hot breath fanned over your neck.
"Can't wait to feel the real de-"
The door banged.
"Boss! We need you!"
The guards and Vera had proposed to fuck around with him cause his patience had been tested many times.
Your steps marching away from him snapped him out of his thoughts, He blinked and held you by the wrist, pulling you once more to him to kiss you.
Your first kiss in years. Soft but needy and filled in with a promise to fulfill later.
Now that he had a taste, there was none to stop him. He'd take his favorite toy and go home.
----
Freedom was taken away from you, right before your eyes. Forsaken by your so called friends, marooned by the crew you had gathered within the depths of despair. Your hope had given them a chance at surviving, your courage had transformed you into a fucked up sisterhood, but it was their greed that made you the ultimate sacrifice to their success.
You could only watch while thrashing your way out, but the more you fought, the more guards came to you, but one in particular pulled you out of the mess like a feather. But you didn't stop fighting. Not even when your tabs were in absolute zero probabilities of winning, not when Miguel dragged you inside manhandling your crying form like a ragdoll.
Scratches, fists and other punches didn't move him in the slightest. His grip tightened once you both were locked up in his office once more. He tossed you on the floor.
"Why... Why did you want to leave?"
His tone menacing yet hurt.
The idea of you almost slipping away from him had sent him in a berserk mode that unleashed hellbent through the asylum. Just to find you and when he did, he wanted nothing but hurt you, just the way you've hurt him.
Wasn't his attention enough? , wasn't him being lenient on you and your chores enough? Wasn't he enough?
"WHY?!"
You were too dumbfounded to process his question. Too marked with shame at your failure and rage to pay him attention, and that alone sent him grabbing you by the neck and crash you against a vanity. Tossing everything above it to the floor.
Your back collided against the now shattered mirror, you yelped but still managed to slap him and that made him groan and nod frantically.
Yes
One of his hands was more than enough to hold your both arms as he positioned between your thighs, pressing further against you.
"You don't like me, Poppy? Why?"
"Let me go!"
His hand squeezed your neck tightly, cutting all air for a minute while he kissed you. Sloppy, angry and so full with lust and rage. It gave you no time to react while his other hand tore the panties from underneath your skirt.
You kept slapping him, but that only enticed him to spread you further
"Love that fucking spark on you, preciosa."
He then thrashed you against the table sending a painful jolt through your body, It made you still for a moment.
"No! No! Don't-" his eyes widened in panic, "Don't lose it. Please-"
"No" You panted, "Just found it" A flower vase was smashed in his forehead. And that granted you freedom from his hands as you fell on the floor, gasping for air and crawling away from him.
Heavy steps echoed, trailing dangerously after you. Miguel took you by the ankle and dragged you towards him.
"No!"
He hissed and pulled you upwards, like a statuette, and slammed your torso against the desk you had been clenching onto. All air knocked out your lungs.
A hand passed over his buckle and removed in a swift motion his belt in one go. The sight of your pussy peeking underneath the ruffles of your skirt made a smile that didn't reach his eyes to appear.
He quickly got the belt around your neck, your hands instantly pried, or at least tried to pry it away, scratching yourself in the process. The smell of copper filled in the air, the vase had broke the skin of his forehead.
"You fucking ungrateful bitch!"
He secured the belt tighter and you wheezed, hands flailed to get a hold of him. Fingers already prodding and toying with your cunt, to his surprise, the struggle and fight turned you on, knowing that a man wanted you so badly that would do anything to have you, and you denying such power had you soaked.
Specially when the man in question was this 6'9" cell guard that wanted nothing but to wreck you, destroy you the way you had destroyed his fucked up illusions.
"All I did for you, everything I did meant shit for you-"
He rasped before slapping your butt with such force it stung and left a red imprint on the now reddening flesh.
"I didn't... a-ask you for shit!"
He grunted at your broken words as he pulled the makeshift leash backwards, separated your legs and pulled out his cock once more.
"There we go, baby"
"Y-You're so pathetic-"
Words died in your throat as he slid inch by inch inside. The intrusion made you sob a feeble whimper, it burned and hurt, but in a way you weren't expecting and you liked it.
"Me? Pathetic? Ay muñeca, is not me whose gonna beg me to stop" He pulled your face towards him and kissed you once more, "You won't even remember your name once I'm done with you."
He buried to the hilt as he watched your expression. Troubled yet blissful. A little grip was loosened as he felt you were about to speak again.
"You talk too much shit-."
Part of you regretted said words, cause he smashed your head in the desk and dug his fingers around your hips.
"Is that so?"
Nothing had you prepared for the assailing onslaught of his hips. Fucking was a measly word compared to what he actually was doing to your poor and snug cunt.
It wasn't slapping, his hips thwacked yours with such force you were sure your cervix would be bruised and your legs wouldn't walk properly for the next few days, but as it hurt, it felt good. Too good for your own comfort. Specially when propped a leg ontop of a stool for more leverage to ruin you deeper.
A garbled moan came out your lips, before gritting your teeth together and shaking your head vehemently. He laughed in between deep growls and moans.
"Am I dulling that spark, muñeca?"
Your body lurched forwards, pussy drenched him with every remorseless push he delivered. Eyes struggling to keep on the front, but it was unavoidable to have them rolling back as your jaw slacked open.
High pitched wails rumbled out of your gaping mouth, permeating the once silent room. Two of his fingers slid in your mouth, hot breath colliding against them. They hooked forcing your mouth to keep open.
The desk shook under your weight, the room filled in with moans so sweet and delicious, unlike the many that had been under him.
You were experiencing first hand the danger. Miguel wasn't nice, he wasn't gentle. The latter made an emphasis on its own as he pulled the belt impossibly tighter. A gurgling and rasping noise came from your throat. He wasn't squeezing anymore, he was choking you.
And Dios mio, you were sure you'd die. But dying sounded way too much of a reward than staying in this awful place.
"Yes"
You hissed in between butchered pants and wheezing mewls. Mind set in welcoming the reaper as air was still cut out of your lungs. Legs too weak to keep on their own. Dizziness fogging your mind, fire engulfing your body, Your cunt slurped him in, wetness no longer an issue since he slid and out so easily.
The only indicator you still had consciousness was the little pathetic cries you did as his hips plowed you with a new intensity you didn't know possible.
He had been whispering the filthiest things into your ear, a couple of degrading words you couldn't quite hear, too busy being cock drunk and slipping in and out of consciousness.
Your torso and arms laid in between his arms and the desk, his upper body keeping you still as his hips did the whole assault. His face too snatched in a myriad of things.
Pride cause he finally got to have you and proved you wrong, lust cause you felt just like he had imagined, anger because of your previous words. He was the one that was rawing you into oblivion, had your brain turned upside down, not Gorski, and had you cumming with such an intensity it was overwhelming and too much for your brain to digest.
Too much.
The choking had your brain's fuse in a shortcut, shutting itself off for what it felt like forever, until he spilled himself inside. Renovating your walls white.
Hot cum spurted and not a single drop was wasted as he made sure you kept it inside.
His hulking figure trembled, torn in between subtle and violent spasms that shook him to his very core and raged pants that sent a shiver down your sore spine.
He finally had you and you were his. He wasn't letting you go. Not when he was about to give you a new purpose.
Being his.
---
Everything that he thought good and right blurred. Eyes filled in with tears at your state. Gone. Gone from this world, gone from him, the spark had vanished.
No
How this happened?
His mind raked through the memories, trying to find the right moment everything went to shit.
He signed a paper. A lobotomy authorization in your behalf.
No!, no!.
"Come back" He pleaded while kissing you and squeezing his hands on the joint of your head and shoulders, to pry something out of you. But nothing came.
The spark had been lost.
And so were you.
"Please, muñeca"
He sobbed and cradled you in his arms, but there was no push, no retaliation, nothing. Only a lovely vessel of his love.
You were gone. For real.
He had been so naive to believe that fucking you senseless meant to have you. He had been such a fool to fall for such a simple thing as that.
And now he had lost you. His own hand brought his demise. Guards and Gorski dragged him out, his hand latched on to you, but even your skin felt different.
"Poppy!"
He yelled but you didn't answer. Just watched him with a look that shattered his heart.
You were free. Free and far far away.
1K notes · View notes
lizthewriter · 5 months
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like snow on the beach / theodore nott
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PAIRING  theodore nott x bubbly!fem!reader
SUMMARY  christmas is your absolute favorite time of the year! the tree, the lights, the music, the food . . . however, to you, the most important thing about christmas is spending it with your loved ones.
your world falls apart when you find out you can't go home for the holidays. you're stuck at hogwarts with a bunch of stuffy professors and zero loved ones. however, you make an unlikely friend who also happens to be stuck at hogwarts for the holidays . . . and you find out he despises christmas. you make it your mission to prove him wrong.
TAGS  theodore nott x bubbly!fem!reader, christmas, holiday cheer, the power of belief, reader loves christmas, this is soooo dash and lily coded, inspired by dash & lily's book of dares, grumpy!theodore nott, simp!theodore nott, i'm a slut for pathetic men 😩
QUOTE  "i've never seen someone so lit from within, / blurring out my periphery, / my smile is like i won a contest, / and to hide that would be so dishonest," - snow on the beach by taylor swift, featuring lana del rey
WORD COUNT  5.7K
WRITTEN  12.4.2023
You shoved your hands in your pockets - despite the fact that you were wearing gloves in this freezing weather, you could still feel the harsh wind nipping at your skin. Here you stood at Hogsmeade station, your friends boarding the train as you watched in discontent. They were all going home for the holidays this year, but you were going to be stuck at Hogwarts. No Christmas tree, no baking gingerbread cookies, no sipping on hot chocolate while snuggled in a warm blanket, no watching holiday movies. Just the freezing cold and your own company.
You plastered a grin on your face when the train began to move and waved to your friends. They bid you their last goodbye from their compartment window. Once the train disappeared from your sight, you trudged your way back up the path to Hogwarts. Well, the sight of the castle was beautiful, in the very least. You could see snow capping the towers and covering the shingles. But even then, it was just another reminder that you were here and not there, at home, with your family. There was only one thing to cheer you up.
-
"Afternoon Madame Pince," you greeted softly as you walked into the library. She sent you a stiff nod in return. While she didn't really like anyone in paticular, she was at least kinder to you than other students.
You knew exactly which books you wanted to cozy up with by a warm, crackling fire. Dashing across the library, you ammassed an entire stack of books, one that was tall enough to obstruct your vision. You waddled through another row, searching the shelves for one paticular title. Spotting it on a high shelf, you found a rolling stool and pushed it with your foot until it was directly under the book you seeked. You tried to place your pile of books somewhere, but it wouldn't fit on the sheleves and you couldn't plop them onto the floor without angering Pince. Stupidly, you decided to step up onto the stool, carrying the pile of books under one arm all while reaching for the desired book. Of course, you should have expected what came after.
You lost your balance, the books tumbling backward out of your arm, the weight of them pulling you down too. You fell off of the stool and expected your head to meet the bookcase behind you, but in your suprise felt someone catch you as your books loudly clattered to the ground.
It took you a moment to catch your breath, to let the adrenaline and fear run it's course before you turned towards your savior. He was tall, devilishly handsome, but with oddly dead eyes. He had an odd way about him - devastatingly beautiful, yet there was this aura of melancholy around him. It was unusually attractive.
"You all right?" He asked, his tone short and gruff.
"Yeah . . . sorry about that. Should've just put my books down somewhere, I suppose."
"What is all this noise?" Madame Pince's striking voice ring throughout the library, her footsteps approaching rapidly. Soon enough, she turned around the corner and let out the most horrified gasp, hand flying to her mouth. She glanced at the two of you with a dark, murderous glare. You suddenly became aware of the fact that his hands were on your shoulders and your back was resting against his chest. "You two! Out of the library at once! I will not have you diabolic teenagers destroying the sanctity of this library! Out! Out!"
She shooed the both of you out of the library and slammed the door in your faces. Now there you were, banned from the library, with no means of proper entertainment. Of course.
Bah humbug, you thought.
"Great," said the boy sarcastically. "As if I have anything else to do now." He sighed and turned around, bumping his head against the wall.
"I'm so sorry!" You squeaked, a blush rising to your cheeks.
"Don't be," he responded, turning back around. "It's not your fault."
Realization struck just then - you recognized him. "Wait . . . you're Theodore Nott, right?"
"You've been stalking me, have you?" His tone was always one of solemnity, so it really wasn't your fault that you couldn't tell he was joking.
"No, of course not, I've just seen you in a few of my classes is all," you responded, quite defensively, but mostly out of embarrassment. "You're in Malfoy's gagle of friends . . . shouldn't you be at home with your family?"
"Shouldn't you?" He returns swiftly.
"Point well taken," you respond with a grimace. He didn't respond and neither did you - what was there to say? You had never really had to interact with him, you weren't friends . . . yet you felt some sort of pull towards him. Like an invisible string that kept you hooked. He did save you from falling to possible death after all. "Well, you know, now that neither of us have anything to do, we could . . . I don't know, hang out or something?"
"Why?"
You arched a brow at him. "You got anything better to do?"
A flash of a smile flitted across his face. "Point well taken."
-
You were once again snuggled in a large coat, a knit hat atop your head and a large wool scarf pooling out of your jacket. Theodore's hands were shoved into the pockets of his thick, plaid trench coat. His hair billowed in the wind as the two of you wandered the ground, snow falling around you.
"So!" You jumped in front of him and began to walk backwards, keeping the same pace as before. "What is your absolute, favorite part about Christmas?"
Theo simply shrugged. "I don't have one." Your jaw almost dropped to the floor - how could he not have a favorite part about Christmas? Christmas, to you, represented love, family, and compassion. You loved everything about it: the tree, the lights, the music, the food, the presents. In fact, there wasn't one thing you could pick as your favorite because you adored all of Christmas too much.
Your shocked expression didn't seem to suprise Theodore in the slightest. "You don't have one?" You reiterated in disbelief, stopping. He jolted when you stopped walking, the two of you damn near as close as you were in the library. "But it's Christmas?" Theodore shrugged again. "You don't like Christmas?"
"No, truthfully . . . my family doesn't really do Christmas," he responded begrudgingly, glancing out at the Forbidden Forest as though he were disinterested. Really, he just didn't want to get into detail about his personal matters.
"Oh," you could only respond. Now that you thought of it, you could only imagine what Nott had to deal with at home, being a pureblood and all that. You knew that a lot of pureblood families were abusive and strict.
Suddenly, everything became clear. His family may not do Christmas, but you certainly do . . . you want him to feel the Christmas spirit that you do. Doesn't he deserve to understand exactly what the holidays are all about?
He tilted his head in curiosity as a grin spread across your rosy cheeks. Your eyes glittered with excitement and something akin to child-like wonder. "You know what? No. I'm going to prove to you that Christmas is the best time of the year."
Nott let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. He kicked at the snow, staring down at the ground as he shook his head. "I don't think you can."
"Do I hear Theodore Nott turning down a challenge?" You asked, cupping your ear with a mock judgemental expression. "Are you scared that I'm right, is that what it is?"
Nott sighed, biting back a grin as he finally met your eyes. "Fine. But I'm telling you now, it's not going to work."
"Oh, we'll see."
-
Theodore would be lying if he said he hasn't had his eye on you. How could he not? How could anyone not? You were quite literally the most outgoing person in your year. You were friends with mostly everyone, give a select few, and participated in many different student organizations. You were modest yet brash, kind yet firm, intelligent yet open-minded. You weren't afraid to speak your mind, even if it made you unpopular with certain crowds. He admired that about you.
So admittedly, the main reason he had gone to the library was in hopes that you'd be there. He's trying building up the courage to talk to you in the past, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Must be the reason why he's not a Gryffindor.
He felt an odd feeling in his chest when he saw you - as if he were so light he could float away, but also regurgitate his lunch all over the hundreds-year old carpet. He built himself up in his head and finally followed you into the rows of bookcases. When he saw you struggling with your pile of books, he froze, insecurities clouding his mind like a thunderstorm hurtling through his head. But when you were about to fall down, he instantly forgot whatever he had been thinking about and jumped to your rescue. Catching you, feeling you pressed against his chest, his nose burrowed in your sweet-smelling hair, he couldn't help but feel his heart beating incredibly fast and hard.
Finally, when the two of you were outside touring the grounds and you had so optimistically wanted to prove to him that Christmas was the best time of the year . . . he couldn't help but want you to prove him wrong.
That's why he was fussing over his hair as he stared in the bathroom mirror, tilting his head back and forth. It took him a whole ten minutes before he decided his hair would never comply and threw on his favorite plaid trench coat. You hadn't told him where the two of you were going, but he trusted that you weren't trying to pull anything funny.
You turned around as he exited the Slytherin dorm, the portrait slamming close behind him. He felt his stomach twist nervously as he looked at you - you were dressed rather festively, wearing a short green and red plaid skirt along with a mahogany turtleneck. Mini ornament earrings hung from your hears, gently bobbing as you turned to face him with an excited smile.
"Ready? Wonderful!" You exclaimed. "Come on, let's go!" He joined your side as you began walking at a brisk pace up the stairs. You lead him outside, chattering about holiday traditions you and your family had. He couldn't help but be enraptured by you - the way your eyes twinkled with joy and your hands gestured feverishly. Your bright rosy cheeks and how your scarf made them look plump and adorable.
"Oh, sorry, I've been rambling on so much you haven't even been able to get a word in!" You said, chuckling nervously, hoping that he wasn't annoyed with you.
"No, I like listening to you talk," he assured you pointedly. "Go on."
"But -"
"Honestly. I don't mind."
He could see your shoulder visibly sag with relief and you continued to explain to him as you walked down stone steps towards a small little hut next to the forest.
"What's that?" He asked you, gesturing to the hut.
"You'll see," you replied with a secretive smile. Once you were standing on the front steps of the house, the sound of a dog barking resonated from within. You knocked on the door with force, three times.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" A gruff voice responded from within. "Oi Fang, back! Get back, you mangy mutt!" Suddenly, the door swung open and Theodore was taken aback. Before him was a man towering at eight and half feet, a long, gangly beard running down his front, and a rather excited dog at his heel. "Ah right! You told me you were coming down today - and you've brought a friend I see!" The giant man turned towards Theodore with a friendly smile. "Rubeus Hagrid - I be the Groundskeeper. Ah! Don't want to keep you two out here in the cold - come, inside! Inside!"
He ushered the both of you into his hut, which was rather quaint. While Theo's eyes danced across the hut, you were already removing your coat and making yourself comfortable. His eyes fell upon a pine tree sitting in the corner, as well as a pile of boxes sitting next to it. He glanced back towards you and found you placing a kettle on the gas stove and setting out three teacups.
"I thought we'd start with one of my most favorite traditions - decorating the tree. Hagrid keeps a tree in his hut and he's asked me to help him decorate this year!"
"Them boxes over there are filled with ornaments!" Hagrid told them, gesturing to the boxes. Theodore noticed that the dog (Fang, he supposed it's name was) had approached you with a wagging tail and you had bent down to pepper kisses all over it's face. "I really appreciate youse two's help! Tha's why I made some of my famous rock cakes for ya to take back up wit' ya to the castle!"
"Thanks Hagrid, that's really nice of you!" Hagrid handed you a large, bulky package wrapped in a floral tablecloth. You placed it inside the bag you had brought with you. All the while Theodore watched as Hagrid slung some kind of bag around his shoulder and called Fang to join him by the door.
"O' course! Just remember to eat them while they're fresh!" He exclaimed with a chuckle. "Don' want 'em too hard. Ah, anyways, must get going. I've got to do my rounds about the grounds with Fang. You two young'uns have fun."
"Bye Hagrid!" You said as he closed the door behind him, offering a cheery wave. Once Hagrid left, you went back into the kitchen to remove the whistling kettle from the stove and pour the two of you some tea. "Here you go," you said slowly, more focused on not spilling the tea you were handing to Theo than what you were saying.
He took a sip of the tea, swallowed it, and then stared down at the yellowed water. You watched him in amusement, holding back your laughter. "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it."
He placed the cup back down on the table. "That is absolutely abominable," he told you with a sour look, pushing the cup towards you. You laughed, placing down your cup as well.
"It's not the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, but Hagrid found these incredibly rare plants in the forest with healing properties! So he's been using them for tea."
"How did you come about to be friends with the Groundskeeper, I wonder." Theodore pulled out one of the kitchen stools, rather large in comparison to himself. It wasn't easy to sit atop it, but in the end he triumphed over the chair.
You shrugged in response, taking another sip of your tea. "Well, Harry, Ron, and Hermione have known him for ages so they introduced me as well. People are kind of - I don't know - weird about him, but he's honestly lovely and gentle. He's not anything like he seems at first glance." Moving on from that topic, you clapped your hands together excitedly and ran over to the pile of ornament boxes. You separated and opened each and every box, displaying all the different ornaments. Theo approached, scrutinizing the glass balls with the tilt of his head.
"Some of these are . . . interesting, I must say." He grabbed an ornament of a brown bear and turned it around in his hand. You plucked the bear from his hand, placing it back in the box. In your other hand was a long string of tinsel.
"There are a few rules to decorating the tree," you started, walking backwards towards the mantle over the fireplace. You flipped on the radio, Celestina Warbeck's "Nothing Like a Holiday Spell," softly playing in the background. "First, you must listen to Christmas music. Second -" You held up the tinsel in your hand. "- you always do the lights and/or tinsel first. Okay? So, I'm going to need help wrapping this around the tree. I'll stand on one side and wrap it around my half, then I'll hand it to you so you can wrap around your half and you give it back to me, all right? Sound good?"
Theo nodded - this didn't seem too hard, nor unenjoyable. You didn't notice, too caught up in your jolly Christmas spirit to notice the way Nott was fondly watching you humming under your breath, tinsel trailing on the ground behind you as you stood on the opposite side of the tree. Standing on your tip-toes, you leaned up to wrap the tinsel around the top branch but struggled. When he noticed you were getting nothing out of your efforts, Theo walked behind you and grabbed the tinsel out of your hand. His chest was pressed against your back as he reached up with ease and wrapped the tinsel around the first branch.
You froze when he had come up behind you, a blush painting your cheeks. It wasn't your fault he had decided to come so close and that he was so damn attractive. You did your best to hide how flustered you suddenly felt, no matter how dimly veiled.
He didn't seem to notice, preoccupied with wrapping the tinsel around the top area of the tree that you were too short to reach. "Uh, thanks. Just, um, when you're wrapping the tinsel, make sure you don't wrap it too tight or too close to another row, okay?"
"I'll keep that in mind," he responded absent-mindedly, brows furrowed as he gave his task the upmost attention. He wanted to make the tree look perfect, just for you. He was trying to figure out how he should space the rows - as of now, are they too close together or too far apart? Maybe he should separate them a little.
"Don't think too much about it. It's not supposed to be perfect," you said, as though reading his thoughts. You grabbed the tinsel and began to wrap it around again. You handed it to Nott, who wrapped it around his side of the tree and handed it back to you. "It's supposed to look imperfect and wonky and unusual - that's what makes it your Christmas tree. Trying to make it look perfect takes all the fun out of it."
"So . . . the uniqueness is what makes it special?" he asked as he took the tinsel from you yet again. You were pretty special . . . unique. You stood out from your peers. Maybe that's why he was attracted to you - all his life, he was pushed for excellence. He was pushed to be perfect all the time and finding someone like you, so free-spirited and imperfect, well . . . he couldn't help but admire you.
"Yeah, exactly!" When you handed him the tinsel again, you said, "well, we're getting near the bottom. Just hand me the - yeah, the tinsel." You took the tinsel again and bent down as you wrapped it around the bottom of the tree. He followed you to the other side of the tree, preparing to finish the job once you passed the tinsel to him. "And I'll just finish this - oh!"
He hadn't realized you were planning on finishing the tinsel yourself and the two of you walked straight into each other. Your noses accidentally brushed together, your lips only centimeters away from his. You noticed an odd sort of glance in his eyes. It disappeared only a second later, but you were certain you saw it. A hunger, a longing. Like he wanted to kiss you.
"Sorry," he mumbled, not moving from where he was bending down.
"Yeah," you said breathlessly, quickly standing straight and clearing your throat. It must have been a flicker of light - there was no way the Theodore Nott liked someone like you. He was prim and proper, you were disorganized and eccentric. Not exactly a match made in heaven, especially in the eyes of his parents. "Sorry . . ."
-
You couldn't think clearly after that - all that was on your mind was a tall, quiet, brown-haired Slytherin boy who hated Christmas. But his especially those lips of his. Pink, full, just begging for a moment of your attention. Scenes in your mind played our what could have happened if either of you had made a move. Many ended with both of you in rather interesting positions.
Maybe it had just been you. Or maybe there was a spark there. You hoped, you dreamed, that he was feeling exactly how you were. You held onto this hope as you left your common room and rushed down the Grand Stairs to the Great Hall. You had another grand adventure in mind.
"What is on the roster for today?" Theodore had asked when you met him by the tall, oak doors of the Great Hall. The two of you set off towards the courtyard path.
"It's a suprise, silly!"
"Ah, suprises."
"What, you don't like suprises?"
"I didn't say that."
"How can you not like suprises?"
-
"If you don't mind me asking . . . why aren't you home for the holiday break?" Theodore asked as you slowly made your descent into Hogsmeade. He was kicking at the snow with his feet, secretly nervous. "You're not usually here."
"You've been stalking me, have you?" You replied with a wicked grin, remembering your first encounter. Theo flushed a bright red, his ears turning an especially poinsettia-like red. "I'm just joking." You sighed, your grin turning to a dismal frown. "Yeah, usually I'm at home for the holi's, but my parents are both away on buisness for work . . . so I had to stay here this year."
"You don't want to," he stated simply. You grimaced, shaking your head.
"Nope. I just want to sleep in my bed, my real bed, and wake up home on Christmas morning, surrounded by my family. But I'm stuck here." You sighed - talking about this didn't make you feel much better. You decided to brighten things up, sending a grin Theo's way. "At least I have you, Nott."
He stopped you. "Theo," he said, staring at you with those dark, alluring hazel eyes. "It's what all my friends call me," he added sheepishly.
The corners of your lips curled up, your heart fluttering like a fall leaf in the wind. "Theo," you repeated softly. "Well, Theo . . . perfect timing. We're here." You looked towards the shop on your right, the exterior wood painted a forest green with faded lettering. The window was frosted over, Hamilton depicting the festive scene inside. Warm fairy lights floated around the window, a variety of holiday-themed presents and objects on display not three inches from their eyes. "Holiday store. Perfect for getting gifts and getting in the holiday cheer."
"This was here all this time?" Theo asked.
You made a grand gesture towards the entire road you were standing upon. "I like to call this the Forgotten District. Great stores, but only the locals come here really. A fair few students know of it, but not many. Let's go inside."
You swung open the door, keeping it open with your foot as you entered so that Theo could enter right behind you. Though the ceilings were low and the room was so filled with whimsical trinkets and do-dads that it did feel a bit tight inside. "Hi Fred, how're you doing?"
"Good, good, and you?" Replied the man standing at the registers. He was a rosy-cheeked, middle-aged man with a round belly who looked rather friendly indeed. Almost like Saint Nicholas come to life.
"Great! This is my friend Theo! I'm introducing him to Christmas."
"Introducing him?" Fred responded in disbelief, looking towards Theo as though he were a puppy that had been ran over by a car. "My dear boy, you must have a look around. Take any one item you'd like with you, for free, I insist."
"Thank you, sir." As Theo gradually made his way into the shop, scrutinizing every little object, whether it was a spinning top or a rocking chair. You sent Fred a wide grin behind Theo's back, gesturing towards him with excitement. When Theo turned around, you stopped and quickly made your way to his side.
"Find anything eye-catching?" You asked, your exuberant mood quite obvious to all who could see you. You were grinning, watching Theo with that child-like wonder, standing on the balls of your feet while you took a good look at the place. You let out a gasp and grabbed a cute snowman mug. "Look at this! This is cute. You know, Mrs. Weasley would probably love this."
While you began to chatter on, grabbing various items and displaying them to him with starry-eyes, he couldn't help but watch with a sense of fondness. At some point, you realized he was staring at you oddly and paused. "What?" You asked with an awkward laugh, wiping your mouth with edge of your sleeve. "Is there something on my face?"
Unsure how to recover from having so blatantly worn his heart on his chest, looks away from you, his gaze void of any emotion now. "Nothing."
-
With each passing day, his fondness and adoration for you grew. You were so bright and exuberant, so careless in the way you bestowed that angelic smile of yours upon anyone. He felt honored, still, that he was a receptor of one.
You had begun to spend a lot of time together. Sneaking into the library and nabbing plenty of reading material, wandering about the castle and grounds, stealing food from the kitchens. However, whatever else you had planned to convince him that Christmas was indeed, gay with yuletide cheer, had not yet occurred.
You both were spread along couches by the fire in the Slytherin Common room, void of people except for the both of you. You laughed and talked until your lungs couldn't handle the action anymore - he was the first to fill the silence.
"My mother . . . she had loved Christmas," Theo said softly, his head still hanging off the couch. "As soon as November 1st came around, she would pull the decorations out of the cellar and start putting them up. Father insisted that she let the house elves do it, but she was firm in the belief that decorating was a holiday tradition that we should all celebrate together. It was her favorite time of year."
His tone sounded almost . . . sad. You pushed yourself onto your elbows and watched him. His eyes were just glazed over, water bubbling at the edges of his vision. "Your mother -"
"She's dead," he said in an empty tone of voice. Suddenly, as though realizing himself, he wiped his eyes and sat up. "Sorry, I don't really talk about that with anyone. I shouldn't have -"
"No, no, it's okay," you assured him with a kind smile. "I don't mind. Tell me more about your mom, she sounds really cool."
He hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers, before he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch. "One year when I was a young boy, she got me Fiabe italiane a cara di Italo Calvino for Christmas, or Italian Folklores by Italo Calvino. She would read it to me every night. After my mother . . . died, my father tried to erase everything that reminded him of her. Including that book."
"Oh no," you whispered, a hand hovering over your mouth.
He gave you a grimaced smile. "Yeah, but it's been so many years . . . I don't really care that much anymore, it's not a big deal."
To you, however, it seemed like a very big deal.
-
On Christmas morning, you woke up extra early and gathered your presents. You knew you looked ridiculous - hair frizzy and wild, still dressed in pajamas, presents flying in the air behind you. Finally, you entered the Slytherin common room and clambered up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, finding Theo's room.
Your pounding upon the door startled him awake and he practically ran to the door to yell at whoever decided to wake him at this ungodly hour. Instead, he found someone he didn't expect to be there at all - you.
"Merry Christmas Theo!" You shouted in excitement, throwing your arms around his neck. In your fervor, your focus was drawn away from the hovering presents and they soon clattered to the floor. He swung an arm around you, envolping himself in you, but you pulled away too soon to look back at your presents. "Oops."
"Merry Christmas," he responded, quite late due to the fact thatft he had just woken up. He opened the door wide so you could enter, and you sauntered inside with your presents hovering behind you once more. You say down on the floor, placing your presents gracefully down in front of you. He closed the door and turned to see you watching him expectantly.
He hadn't opened presents with anyone before, at least, not since his mother was alive. He had thought at first that he would be upset, you falling into his life and pushing him back into the world of Christmas . . . but he found that he actually enjoyed your company. More than he liked to admit. "Do you . . . want to open presents together?"
You flashed him a toothy grin. "Why else did you think I came over here, silly? Come on!" You patted the ground in front of you.
He shuffled over, gathering the small cluster of presents by his bed next to yours, and seating himself on the ground. "You go first."
"All right then." You grabbed an oddly-shaped parcel that looked like a lump of under-cooked bread. You unwrapped it with care, making sure not to tear the packaging. You pulled out a forest green sweater with the initial of your name and a container filled with mince pies. "It's from Mrs. Weasley! She knits sweaters every year for all her kids and their friends." You raised it to your nose with a content sigh. "Smells like her cooking too. All right, now you go on!"
Theod can't remember the last time he had recieved a homeade present, from someone so kind and motherly. He pulled a neatly-wrapped parcel towards him and unwrapped it, revealing a set of books he'd been wanting for a while. From Blaise. Don't go reading it all at once :)
"See? Opening presents can be fun!" The two of you continued to unwrap presents, chatting about what you had gotten. Finally, a wrapped present sat in front of you - both of you stared at it.
"You're not going to open it?" Theo asked. You shook your head with a knowing smile, pushing it towards him bashfully.
"Actually . . . it's for you," you said slowly with a nod of your head. Nervously, you glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He looked rather . . . confused.
"You didn't have to get me anything," he said, pulling the present into his lap. He stared down at it stubbornly, because he felt too guilty accepting a present from you.
"Oh go on, open it!" You encouraged, nudging him. He couldn't help but smile at your excitement, nothing the way you fidgeting in anticipation.
"All right, all right," he responded, raising his hands in mock defense. He untied the ribbon and gently unwrapped the present, making sure not to tear the paper. He froze once he saw what was sitting in his lap, staring up at him.
You watched him with trepidation. You didn't go to far, did you? You hoped that - well, you weren't sure what you hoped, but you wanted him to treasure the gift. You wanted him to say something, but didn't dare question him. You were afraid of his reaction.
"Fiabe italiane," he spoke softly, running his fingers along the spine of the book. It didn't have the weathered grooves his mother's copy had, but it felt like home. He turned towards you with an expression of disbelief. "How - you didn't have too -"
You offered a sheepsih shrug. "I wanted too. You sounded so . . . happy when you talked about your mother. But also sad, so I thought this might cheer you up. Brighten up Christmas a bit."
Theo kept staring at you with an odd expression - you weren't sure what to expect from him. You certainly didn't expect his lips to smash against yours, resting his hand on your thigh. The suddenness of the kiss left you in shock, unable to move. He took this as a sign that you were uncomfortable and unreceptive. But, as soon as he pulled away, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and tender. You couldn't help but smile as you pulled away and you noticed that his eyes had lost that melancholic darkness and was instead replaced with something much more merry.
"I think I'm starting to like Christmas."
You giggled, bringing a wide grin to his usually stoic face. "C'mere," you said, pulling him into a cuddle. "As long as I'm here, I will make sure that every Christmas you have is filled with love and comfort. All right?"
He glanced up from where you had buried his face in your shoulder. "You're amazing, you know that?" He asked, starry-eyed.
You offered a mock uncaring shrug. "I know." You were both silent before you burst out into laughter. "I'm not." As Theo started to protest, you interrupted him. "No really! I'm not, I'm just showing you what a caring relationship is like."
"I still think you're amazing." He paused. "I'm glad we ran into each other."
You glanced down at him and brushed the hair out his face, pecking him on the nose. "Me too."
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moonstruckme · 5 months
Note
Hi mae! I love eveything you write!! Kind of in a similar vein to doctor!remus i wanted to request poly!marauders where they are emt’s and they respond to a call where reader is injured and when they arrive to help reader is just super flustered and shy because there are three very sweet and attractive and charming men she doesn’t know taking care of her
Thanks lovely!
part 1 | part 2
Cw: car accident aftermath, concussion, blood, and definitely some smutty implications but nothing that would fluster your grandmother, also maybe don’t read if medical inaccuracies will piss you off because I can almost guarantee this is riddled with them (I am but a girl)
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words
Someone else must have called emergency services, because the first thing you hear is sirens. Your car is smoky—that can’t be safe, can it?—and you ache, and the shaking of your hands makes them frustratingly inefficient at undoing the buckle of your seatbelt. 
The sirens get louder and then stop. The ruckus you can hear but not see outside of your smashed windshield increases, and there’s a warm wetness on your face, getting in your eyes. You reach up to swipe at it. The door next to you opens. 
“Hi.” A curly mop of hair attached to a smiling face pops in your driver’s door. “How we doing?” 
You inhale shakily. “All right.” 
His grin goes lopsided, brown eyes skimming over your form. “Well, at least you’ve got a good attitude. We’re gonna get you out of here in just a second, but first can you tell me what’s hurting you?” 
You blink. Things seem to be moving oddly slowly. Every inch of you trembles. “Is my car going to blow up?” 
The paramedic’s eyebrows raise. You hear something on your opposite side but can’t be bothered to look. “We don’t think so. Are you asking because of the powder?” 
He must mean the smoky stuff swirling about your car. You try to nod, but it hurts, and the man puts a gloved hand to your neck to stop you. 
“No no, don’t move,” he cautions. 
“That’s just powder from the airbags,” a voice on your other side says, and the paramedic makes a small sound of protest when you turn your head to find it. There’s another one leaning in the open door on your passenger side. He’s got fluffy brown hair lighter than the first’s and a large scar on one side of his face which stretches as his eyebrows bunch. “Can you tell us what hurts, please?” 
“My head,” you answer, bringing a quivering hand to your breastbone. “A—and my chest.” 
“No pain in your neck or back?” The first, darker paramedic asks, and when you confirm he nods approvingly. “Well, some of that might come later, but that’s good enough for now. All right, sweetheart, do you think you can stand?” 
“Yeah,” you say, sounding uncertain even to your own ears. He grasps your forearm in one hand while wrapping another around your back, helping you out of your seat. 
As soon as you’re through the door there’s another set of gloved hands on your opposite arm. You look up to see a third man, slighter than the others, helping the first carry you a short distance to a gurney. 
And daylight is something else. Your head and chest hurt worse than before, but it doesn’t help that you very nearly stop breathing when you take in the sight of the three paramedics who have surrounded you. 
“Can you tell us what you remember from the accident?” The second one, the one who’d come through your passenger door—you can see in the sunlight that he has more scars than just the one, though he’s no less beautiful for it—asks. There’s a gentleness to the set of his brows as he frowns at you, pressing something to your forehead. 
A policeman makes to approach you, and the curly-headed one turns, taking on a sternness that doesn’t suit him as he wards the other man off with a hand and a few quiet words. 
“Hey.” The scarred paramedic brings your attention back to him. “Do you know what happened?”
“I…” Fuck, you can’t tell if you’re woozy from whatever’s happening with your head or just the attention from the three of them. They’re moving you, other people and cars passing in your periphery as they wheel the gurney towards an ambulance. “I wrecked my car?” 
The third paramedic laughs, the sound sharp and crisp despite the general fuzziness surrounding you. He’s got longish, inky black hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “It’s not a trick question, dollface. And the state of your car isn’t really what we’re worried about right now.” 
“Sirius,” the scarred one chides. You think distantly that Sirius is an odd name. Unique and pretty-sounding. “Do you remember if you fell asleep, love?” 
You want to shrink away from his attentive stare, but his hand on your forehead holds you in place. “I’m not sure,” you say. “Was there—are the people in the other car okay?” 
“Pretty sure she was just waking up when I got to her,” the first paramedic says, curls bouncing slightly as he stations himself by your feet and helps lift the gurney into the back of the ambulance. “Yeah, sweetheart, everyone else is alright. Might be a bit sore tomorrow, but signing refusals of treatment as we speak. Do you feel sick?” 
Actually, maybe it’s the speed of the conversation that’s making you woozy. “No?” 
“Well, that’s reassuring,” he jokes. “That’s okay, just let us know if you do.” He flashes you another dazzling smile.
You think you might return it, but then light hits your eyes and you wince instead. 
“You’re okay,” the dark haired one—Sirius, you remember—reassures you. “I’m just going to shine this in your eyes really quickly. Try to keep them open for me?” 
You do your best, and he works swiftly as promised, flashing the bright white beam into one eye and then the other before clicking it off with a gentle pat to your knee. 
“Definitely concussed,” he says to the other two. Excellent.
“Okay, I’m just going to close this up for now,” the scarred one explains, voice low and soothing as he removes whatever he’s been holding to your head. “It looks like you’ll need stitches, but I need to stop the bleeding until we can get those done, yeah? It might feel like little pinches.” 
“Okay,” you say, voice embarrassingly shaky from the tender way he’s holding your head in his hands. “Thank you.”
He smiles. The effect is dizzying, scars pulling taut as the severity melts from his features. “You’re welcome, lovely,” he says softly. “How’d this happen, then? Did you hit your head on the steering wheel?” 
You try to remember. “I guess so. I’m…not sure.” 
“That’s okay,” Sirius promises you. “James, can you check out that chest pain while I get a pulse?” 
The first one, who hasn’t seemed to stop smiling despite what you consider a fairly grim circumstance—though you imagine it might be run-of-the-mill in his line of work—steps to your side. The three of them move around each other so fluidly, like they can anticipate the other’s movements. Practice, you suppose. “All right, darling,” he says, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a self-assuredness you can’t relate to, and your face warms in response, “do you mind if I move your top down a bit so I can have a look?” 
You feel suddenly lightheaded. You try to nod, but the scarred one tsks at you, holding your head still with lithe fingers as he works on your cut. Thankfully, James seems to catch your meaning anyway. He’s exceedingly gentle as he wraps his fingers around the neckline of your top, pulling it into a V in the center of your chest. You follow it down with your gaze. The red line that stretches diagonally across the flat of your chest feels somewhat anticlimactic considering the deep ache that emanates from it, but James hisses sympathetically. 
“Ow,” Sirius agrees. “Yeah, looks like the seatbelt got you.” 
You try very, very hard not to think about how they’re all looking at your naked chest, all speaking to you so kindly, all touching you in their different ways. If you think too hard about any of it, you might actually die. 
“Tell me if this hurts, alright?” James looks at you before pressing down lightly with his palm. 
You start to gasp from the pain but then that hurts even worse, and your face scrunches in agony.
“Sorry, sorry.” He removes his hand hastily, putting your top back in place. “All done with that, love. It hurts when you breathe in, huh?” 
“Yeah,” you affirm croakily. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says again, touching your shoulder with an apologetic smile. You’d never been mad, but you go ahead and forgive him anyway for looking at you so sweetly. “I’m going to feel if your ribs are broken, okay? I won’t push down again.” 
You don’t have the breath to give an assent and he doesn’t wait for one, slipping a large palm under your shirt—what you wouldn’t give to have that happen under different circumstances—and feeling about your sides tenderly. 
The scarred paramedic’s touch lifts from your forehead. “Okay, that’s all set. Let’s get you out of here, hm?”
“You driving, Rem?” Sirius asks, and you notice he’s finished taking your pulse but hasn’t let go of your hand, thumb stroking the inside of your wrist soothingly. 
“Mhm,” the scarred one—Rem—replies, putting away some supplies. “Did you confirm she’s in shock?”
“Yup.”
“Start an IV,” Rem instructs, and Sirius scoffs like yeah, I know and waves him off. You almost laugh at the easy familiarity of it. 
“Why do you think I’m in shock?” you ask as Rem hops out the back, presumably going to the driver’s side. 
Sirius softens. “Your pulse is a riot, pretty girl. Plus, you’re shaking like a leaf and you’ve gone a tiny bit blue” —he taps your lips with his forefinger— “right here.” 
You could pass out now. That’d be alright with you. 
James straightens, having already run his fingers probingly over both your sides. “Alright, we might have a couple of small fractures, but nothing too dire. Can I see your arm, love?” 
You give it to him unthinkingly, but tense when he starts feeling about the soft crook of your elbow with overly kind fingers. You’d think the effect of his touch would have diminished after he’d finished feeling you up underneath your shirt, but evidently not. 
“You’re okay.” Sirius mistakes your shyness for nervousness about the IV, wrapping his fingers around your chin and turning you gently to face him. His cupid bow flattens when he gives you a small smile and a shorter piece of his dark hair has slipped free of its confines, brushing his cheekbone. “You’re okay, doll. Jamie’s a pro, yeah? Just keep your eyes on me.” 
Well, if he’s gonna insist. 
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pierregazly · 3 days
Text
greedy ꨄ charles leclerc
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charles leclerc x f!reader
warnings: smut (18+ only), public-sex, charles is horny [1.3k words]
request: 🌶 charles leclerc + prompt 9, please and thank youuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻 [9. “I’m feeling greedy.”]
note: charles gives off greedy vibes, so this checks out!! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
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The gala was as elegant as it was elite. The men were in their best suits, the women pampered and wrapped in different variations of stunning fabric and colour. The chatter was infectious, everyone’s smiles and laughter vibrated the room.
Although your eyes surveyed your surroundings, Charles’ never strayed from you. He looked like a man starved, battling obsession in the most obvious of ways. He barely contained himself when you had walked out of your shared bathroom earlier, the dress you wore evoking such a strong reaction from the Monégasque.
He couldn’t take his hands off you, either. While standing, one ring-clad hand was always pressed gently against your lower back, just teetering on the curve of your behind. While sitting, he refused to remove his hand from your knee, even when you tried to push him to use it to eat. 
Charles was content the way it was.
Until he wasn’t.
He couldn’t tear his eyes off the slit in your dress, the skin of your knee so soft against his wandering hand. Your plump lips looked like they were demanding he press his own against them. The small tease of the neckline of your dress practically begging for him to pull it down more to get a better view. 
You could tell he was starting to have trouble containing himself, the occasional squeeze of your knee and the way his ears went red whenever you raised an eyebrow at him a clear indication. You had denied his attempts earlier, not wanting to ruin all the effort you had put into getting in the dress, and pampering yourself for the gala. 
It was only a matter of time until he broke. Which of course, didn’t take long once you had finally noticed the obvious.
Leaning over to press his lips against the shell of your ear, you felt a shiver run through your body.
“Come with me quick, mon amour,” he said.
Barely giving you a second to react, his hand that had been previously pressed against your knee was lightly squeezing your shoulder. Following his lead, you took the outstretched hand he gave you, allowing him to pull you wherever he had decided to take you this time. 
The restroom was not where you were expecting him to lead, warmth crawling up your neck as you tried to subtly peer around you to determine if anyone had followed the actions of Ferrari’s star driver. From what you could see, no one had.
In a quick motion of events, you were pulled into the restroom with the door being locked behind you. Charles was quick to peer around the bathroom, confirming that there were no other occupants in the small room. 
Before you had time to react, Charles was pushing you up against the wall, his lips etching themselves against yours as a hand maneuvered its way down to your hip. Moaning into his lips at his actions, he lightly ran his tongue along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance as he began to gently grind his body into yours. The want and desire so obvious by the clothed hardness now pressing into your core.
Pulling back, his eyes were hooded and full of lust, a smirk prominent on his lips.
“Charlie… we really shouldn’t. Not here,” you said.
Pouting at you, Charles started to press gentle kisses along your neck towards the line of your dress, licking along the neckline as he got closer and closer to your bust.
“But mon amour, I’m feeling greedy. Please allow me a little taste, let me make you feel good. All I’ve wanted to do is get on my knees between these pretty legs of yours. You deserve it, looking so beautiful.”
He was slowly bunching up your dress with every word, featherlight touches up your thighs as he lowered his body to his knees. It was hard to deny him when he was looking up at you so prettily, basically begging for the chance to bring you pleasure.
“Just a little taste then, baby. Can’t have you being too greedy,” carding your hands through his hair, the quick tug you gave the strands was the only prompting he needed.
Charles was quick to push your dress up to your hips, grabbing your hand to hold the dress in place as he mouthed at your thighs. Pressing kisses, licking along the skin and blemishes, you couldn’t help the shiver that wracked through your body. 
One finger began to run across your covered mound, only slightly pressing into where your body was eager to feel the press of his tongue, or his finger. You arched into his actions every time he ran a finger across your panty-covered clit, mewling and pouting down at him when he moved away.
He didn’t take long before he was hooking his fingers into the fabric, pulling them aside and running a finger through the wetness that had begun to accumulate there.
“So wet for me, mon amour. Such a naughty girl, pussy so soaked in a bathroom for me, grinding into my finger. How badly do you want this, baby?”
Groaning at his words, you glared down at him. Tugging at his hair once again, he simply smirked at you. 
“I’m greedy, baby. I want to know what you want,” he said as he pressed a featherlight kiss to the hood of your clit, prompting a sigh to leave your lips.
“Charlie, please. I need your tongue and your fingers, please.”
It must’ve been satisfactory enough for him, as the next moment he was spreading your lips and pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit. A low moan left your lips, your hand slapping against your mouth to hide the sounds.
Charles knew exactly what you liked, not taking long to press two fingers against your entrance, gathering up the wetness there before pressing inside of you to work them in tandem with his tongue. The tongue, which was currently running up and down your clit like it was starved of you.
Swirling and curling his tongue against your bundle of nerves in unison with his fingers pushing in-and-out of you, you threw your head back against the wall, the hand that had been holding the dress moving to his hair to try and pull him in closer.
The way he was groaning against you as he sucked at your clit, prompted you to look down. His unoccupied hand was palming against his own cloth-covered cock, attempting to give himself some reprieve from the tight trousers that were stifling any pleasure.
Charles pulled his head back to look up at you, his fingers still pumping inside of you, pressing against the spot he knew made you whine when you were in bed. 
“Do you want me to make you cum, mon amour? Or is the little taste I got, good enough? Hm?” 
Shaking your head down at him, he mockingly pouted up at you as he pulled his fingers from your entrance. 
“You need to use your words, baby. Be a good girl, for me.”
Tugging on his hair yet again, you glared down at him. The loss of his fingers and tongue prompting an emptiness inside of you that you needed satisfied, immediately.
“Charlie, if you don’t make me cum on your tongue, I’m going to make myself cum in front of you. And then when we get home, I’m going to wrap my lips around your pretty cock, but I’m going to tease you and not let you cum. How does that sound, hm?”
Your words were breathy as they came out, the part of his lips at your words the only indication of the effect they had on him. You couldn’t help the groan that fell from your lips as he stood up.
“So bratty. I’m going to fuck you right here, now. Make you cum all over my cock instead. Turn around.”
So greedy, indeed.
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i haven't written smut in SO long, so i hope this is okay!!! thank y'all so much for participating in the celebration, and feel free to keep submitting 🫶🏻
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bejeweledblondie · 6 months
Note
so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!
can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?
Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang
(sorry if this is long I got excited)
please and thanks
Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley
Warnings: innuendos
“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.
He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.
“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.
“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.
“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.
You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.
Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.
“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.
“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.
“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.
“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.
“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.
“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”
“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.
“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.
“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.
Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.
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onyourowndaisymae · 10 months
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seventy-two pacts
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have some sol thirst (i would go feral if this were me)
content + warnings: suggestive, solomon x reader, solomon has visible pact marks and reader does too
word count: 462
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"damn."
the word comes out quickly, before you can even think. you cover your mouth in embarrassment-- justified, considering you couldn't keep your reaction in-- but you can't peel your eyes away.
solomon's peeling off his shirt. in the midst of joking around and pouring some for you two to enjoy, he'd knocked the rim of one of the glasses against the bottle, spilling it all down the front of his shirt. so, to avoid soaking himself further, he immediately began to take the long sleeved garment off.
then you said it, and now he's frozen, shirt halfway off.
can you blame yourself, though? you've seen your fair share of shirtless men, as is expected when living in the chaos of the house of lamentation. but they're all smooth-skinned and flawless. some of them have a couple of scars here and there from the great celestial war. their muscles were obviously impressive in their own right. but they all missed something that solomon had-- something you're just now seeing for the first time.
swirling black lines run across his pale skin, curling around muscles, decorating the smooth planes of skin in intricate designs. from across the table, you can make out little latin characters. pact marks. a lot of them. the ornate symbols decorate the exposed part of his lower abdomen, luring you in with strange words and beautiful lines before disappearing beneath his beltline. do they-- do they follow his v-line? holy shit, you're about to start drooling--
"haha, mc, my eyes are up here!"
his charming, light laugh catches your attention. his eyes are sparkling with mirth, lips curled into a cheshire grin as he removes the rest of his shirt and bunches it in his hand.
the pact marks dance up across his broad shoulders and down his arms. they're gorgeous, arcane and mystical as they sprawl down his biceps and spill onto his forearms. you've seen his sleeves rolled up before, so you knew he had a few pact marks, but-- 72 pacts never looked so damn good.
the seven pact marks on your skin had always been a point of your own fascination. but seeing the sigils on solomon's skin made you wonder if you'd ever be covered the same way.
"i need a new shirt," he declares, smirking at you. he take a couple steps towards his room, then stops when he sees you still at the table. "c'mon."
"huh?" you feel like you've missed something.
"you think you've seen all of my pact marks? no, my dear apprentice, i have plenty more where that came from. and since you're so curious, i figured i might as well show you."
you scurry up from your spot and follow him like the obedient little apprentice you are.
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