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#pose looks weird DON'T MIND
fluffsnake · 6 months
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sysig · 9 months
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He’s my little meow meow, my darling, my bbygirl (Patreon)
#Doodles#Commander Peepers#I'm soooooo normal about him you guys <3 So normal! <3 <3#*Looking back over the other Little Guys I've collected* Hmmmmmmm Evil Xisuma and Spamton and Sableye and Rick Diggins#I think there might be a theme here#Just casually making Venn Diagrams in my head - Evil X has the red/black - Spamton is trans - Sableye has Gremlin energy - Rick is too tired#And those are just the ones I can think of lol - if you look I did the same stretchy pose with EX when I was still drawing him lol#The Stretch Pose is how you can tell if I like a character lol - they stretchin'? I am infatuated <3#I mean I'm normal I'm totally normal lol#Also had to give him a bbygrl pose - I for the life of me cannot find it again but the reference is very strong in my mind's eye!#Not that I couldn't go for another one at some point lol ♪#Ugh the middle one lol - so that Word of God I mentioned in passing about female Watchdogs#I read it in passing as just a basic research of ''Oh here's what The Original Creator has to say alright neat''#Except that it Immediately made me itchy and I was like ''What. What brain this is not that big of a deal what are you doing''#And I was like ''No I'm being silly about this - just because I don't agree doesn't mean it's a big deal lol''#Except then I had stress dreams and woke up Weird the next day and the last time that happened I left a fandom#And the time before that I wrote 4 consecutive pages of 20-something panels in like 18 hours of consciousness - I have normal reactions lol#But I opted instead to vent to smol about it and she agreed with me so basically I'm just saying I'm correct lol /s#Personally Peepers doesn't strike me as misogynistic - he's very much an Equal Opportunity villain in my eyes!#And yeah I considered a lot of different angles around it but like - based on the text of WOY I just don't buy it#If it's not in the show it doesn't count! For all we know there might not even be any female Watchdogs! Lol#Would also lead to the equally-to-Spamton interesting question of How Does Trans Work in that kind of situation#I've definitely not already put a lot of thought into it don't look at me lol#Don't ask me to write an essay about both of those things I'll do it and where will that leave us lol#ANYway lol ♪ He's still the absolute funnest to draw in distress and discomfort <3 And kneeling! He makes me want to practice :D#I always feel like I can try again and do better! >:3c
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ferrstappen · 6 months
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primero llegó verstappen l MV1
a/n: MONACO by Bad Bunny. that's it that's the tweet. this isn't very long and its all over the place but I hope you like it <3
summary: Suddenly, Max isn't annoyed about being featured in a music video.
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Max couldn't stop staring at himself in the mirror of a tent full of outfits, cameras and people moving from one place to another. In his mind he already did enough promo for the team, more than enough after being crowned World Champion for the third time and a huge contributor to the comfortable win of the Constructors Championship as well.
Maybe appearing in a music video was where he draw the line?
He wouldn't have an issue if it was him on his fireproofs doing a couple of laps in some closed circuits, maybe even some hot laps, but having to pose next to his RB19, wearing a faux leather jacket and showing one of his TAG Heuer Monaco Titan, because he was a walking billboard, was a little too much on his books, especially as a make up artist mixed different shades of some foundation, and Max was trying really hard not to take offense after he told him "his dark circles were incredibly hard to conceal".
Here he was doing favors and in return was being offended by his lack of sleep and naturally pale complexion.
He almost laughed after noticing Checo staring at himself in the mirror, the same confused and uncomfortable look on his face, and the same tight jacket as they contemplated the marina from above.
In conclusion, yes, this was well above his paycheck. Max also wouldn't deny he didn't thrill on the presence of paparazzi in quiet Monaco. granted, they were looking for the big star who was doing some shots around the city, walking hand in hand with his model girlfriend, but he could still make out some yelling for him and Checo.
Then, his day took a turn.
Some crew members wearing headphones and what he assumed were the assistants approached him and Checo, telling them this wouldn't take long since all they had to do was walk around the car, get in and out of the car, with and without the helmet, all while blasting the song.
A very catchy and good song that mentioned he was the first one to cross the finish line. At least he couldn't complain about that.
But he was internally complaining when, once again, he found himself on the make up chair with the same make up artist who had a problem with his dark circles, but this time the place was much different.
A sharp suit and this time a heavy Patek Philippe on his wrist as he walked inside the Casino of Monte Carlo. Now he was greeted by Bad Bunny himself, who thanked him many many times for being a part of this, and in return Max thanked him for even thinking of him for his song. They fell into a comfortable conversations about cars when the singer motioned for two girls to come over, one Max recognized as Kendall Jenner, the other he didn't know but was eager to.
"Max, this is mi novia, Kendall, and this is her friend (y/n). They're doing some stuff on the background, don't they look incredible?"
Max swore the designer dress you were wearing was painted on you, because there was no way it could fit so perfectly on your body, with a couple of stray hairs adorning your face and long eyelashes accentuating your eyes.
"It's so nice to meet you, I'm such a big fan of motorsport," you stretched your hand and it caught Max off guard, not really knowing what to do.
So he panicked and gave you a weird handshake before lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a kiss, and he had never felt more like a creep, but he noticed you blushing and a giggle leaving your lips.
You wanted to add something when the crew called everyone to start shooting, Benito and Kendall leading the way, and the only thing Max thought of doing was to offer you his arm which you gladly accepted.
The song was blasting as everyone pretended to talk and surround the roulette, but you and Max weren't pretending to laugh or to talk.
He even left Checo by himself, he'd forgive him eventually.
"I'm pretty sure the camera is on us in this moment," you told him through gritted teeth, trying to keep a perfect smile.
"What should we do?" Max asked, trying to hide his smile while doing his best to give you his best seductive stare.
You knew he was flirting with you and it was surprising. After seeing him on screens and social media you figured he'd be cocky, not having any trouble flirting with women every weekend on different countries, figuring out a way with foreign languages, but you never pictured him as a giddy, easily flushed, good for banter man, and the only thing you wanted was to leave this shoot and have him show you the city, dressed to the nines and maybe pretending to be cold in the end so he could put his jacket over your shoulders, and that way you could see him with just a white shirt and undone tie.
But you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, especially when you heard the director yell cut and tell you and Max to pay attention to the instructions, earning you the glare of everyone in the room.
"Ey, cabrón, que se están enamorando, déjalos solos!" Hey, they're falling in love, leave them alone. Those were Benito's words.
And God, was he right.
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malevessel · 1 month
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Paul, may I know what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange all day, and mom and dad are worried, and honestly so am I. And stop posing like that in the mirror for once
Sorry little brother, these biceps need to show off. Also, it doesn't seem to me that I'm acting differently, I'm the same Paul as always.
You're kidding? Paul, you've been showing off your muscles all day, you touched the waitress's ass in the cafeteria this morning and then you fucked her in the bathroom. I have to remind you that by doing that you have also cheated on Alice.
What can I say, it's a shame not to show off these muscles, you should too, after all your body is like this. And about Alice, well, I don't think I'm a one-woman man if you know what I mean.
(Paul pulls out a cigarette from who knows where and starts smoking.)
Dude, are you smoking? For God's sake, it's clear that you've gone crazy.
Relax, bruh. It's just a cigarette. Come with me to the mall, I have to do some shopping......
--------------------------------------------------
Man, I'm telling you right away that cutting your hair was a bad idea, mom and dad will be mad, and besides that kind of haircut doesn't suit you, you look like a different person. And it doesn't help that you buy the tightest thing you can find in the store.
Come on man, it's just a little style change. But if you're going to keep touching my balls, you can go home.
Come on Paul, don't be like that, this is just so weird.
............
Paul could do nothing but scream in the back of his mind, not strong enough to fight off his invader, an escaped criminal looking for a place to hide. For him it was a stroke of luck to find Paul's bedroom window open that night, and even luckier when Paul's body was too tired from training to fight the possession. Of course this was a hiding place
.
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Second part
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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
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Idea for part 2 to lingerie or maybe a separate fic but luke convinces reader to let him take pictures of her in some of the lingerie so she can see how pretty she looks from his pov ☺️
ℒ𝒾𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ
PART 1, PART 3
Warnings- LOSER!LUKE AGENDA!! 18+, mdni! they are so couple goals.
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“Ok, this one I saw, and I had to have it.” You said as you smiled, you stood in front of him and twirled around once again. It was a lot more scandalous, showing more skin and your cleavage barely covered.
His mouth was watering at this point, he just so desperately wanted to kiss you- touch you- anything really.
“It looks.. amazing. Probably the best one.” He nodded, reminding himself to keep eye contact and not let his eyes wander. He tried to keep his responses short and quick.
“Agreed.”
He felt embarrassed thinking about it. Would you think he was weird? Would you be creeped out and never talk to him again?
Fuck it.
You smiled and went to go change before he said your name. You turned around and looked at him, confused.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think… I could, take a picture…?”
Your eyes widened at that. The air grew thick with tension, and his voice cut through the silence after a little.
“Just- so that you can see how great you look from my point of view, you- you know?” He stuttered, anxious as he looked at you.
“Oh… okay. Sure. Why not?” You gave him another grin, and he smiled back. And you knew he had other intentions with the pictures, but it was Luke Castellan. The man you’ve had a crush on since you both were kids, the guy you were best friends with.
He took out his camera quickly, it's as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. He had been.
You stood, with a small smile on your face for the first one. It was mostly innocent. Then, he swears he would die when the poses got less innocent.
He swallowed, shaking the polaroids as they printed. Once they did, you sat right next to him, your bare thigh touching the denim of his jeans. He handed you them and you flipped through them.
"They're great. Ugh, I'm so glad I got you to do this. You're the best," You gave him another kiss on the cheek, his cheeks were tinted pink.
"Is that it?" he asked nervously. You nodded and you picked out a pair of pajamas, which was just a baggy shirt with some pajama pants.
"Could you... turn around? I don't feel like going in the bathroom." You were teasing him at this point, you wanted him to make a move already, plus it was fun seeing him flustered.
"Yeah... Of course." It was your cabin after all, he turned around, his hands on his knees as he fought against the urge to turn around.
While he was turned around, you quickly grabbed his bag, stuffing three of the best pictures he took into it. You quickly shoved it back in place and got dressed.
You sat back on the bed with him, talking for a while before the rest of the aphrodite cabin started pouring in.
"What's he doing in here?" One of your sisters asked.
"We were just talking." You said, he nodded and gave them each a small smile as they looked at him. He grew uncomfortable soon, however.
"I should probably get going, I'll see you tomorrow." He said, standing up quickly, leaving the cabin. You furrowed an eyebrow and followed after him.
"Wait, Luke!" You called his name; he turned around and looked at you, his bag slung on his shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"Goodnight." You said, but he felt like there was more you wanted to say.
"You got out here, in the cold, to tell me goodnight?" He cocked his head to the side. You swallowed now and walked closer to him.
You both stared at each other for a moment, and he gazed into your eyes with such love, how could you resist him anymore?
As his hand reached for your face, your heart started racing. You both leaned in closer and closer until your lips met. It felt like a dream come true, but this was real. Your mind was blown away by the softness of his lips as you traced your finger over his scar. The moment was electric, and you couldn't believe this was actually happening.
"Is this real?" you asked shakily once your lips left his. He chuckled and nodded.
"Goodnight," he said, giving you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving.
As soon as you entered the Aphrodite cabin again, the girls around you looked at you, all expecting an explanation.
"I kissed him!" you squealed, screams erupt, and Luke could hear it as he was walking towards his own cabin, small smirk on his face.
And when he opened up his bag, reaching for his book, 3 polaroids were on top. He had a smile on his face as he looked through them.
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tojipie · 3 months
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Hello my love! I know you’ve been gone for a while but I wanted to stop by and ask if you have any realistic but unhinged toji headcannons? Hopefully this gets you into the spirit of writing again, I don’t mean to overstep. We miss you❤️.
hello sweet anon :( i’ve admittedly been struggling with my mental health a whole ton which is why i’ve been gone but this ask really did help me get back into the groove of writing just a bit <3 thank u for stopping by ! mwah
this is just me saying shit to say it pls don't take this srsly !
content: fluff, mentions of alc, smoking, suggestive talk but not smut, a little angst
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was a victim of the xandemic in his late 20s so one of his pupils is a little bigger than the other
initially hated ambulances because of the absurd cost but grew to hate them even more because the attention makes him uncomfortable. oh you want to take his blood pressure? ew, don’t touch him. that’s weird. would rather patch himself up than sit under a gaggle of fluorescent lights for 6 hours in an ER waiting room.
shiu has been a co-signer on every apartment he’s ever rented because his credit score is in the single digits.
picked up vaping on accident after the corner store ran out of cigs when he needed them most. still prefers marlboros because he likes that searing feeling in the back of his throat. throws the cartons out his car window like a freak.
his drivers license is crumpled. like physically crumpled like paper. he has no idea how it happened but when he needs to use it at the liquor store he definitely gets stares.
will forever be devoted to his late wife. mentally at least. she’s the love of his life but in his mind sex with other women isn’t really cheating right? like he uses a condom sometimes so it’s fine probably? he's not gonna stay celibate for the rest of his life. the topic keeps him up at night.
has a scar from an appendectomy right above his v line that women go crazy for. he’s not entirely sure what they like about it but he’s been touched there so many times that it’s morphed into an erogenous zone.
slut for fast food. would rather get a vanilla shake and dip his fries in it till his stomach hurts than spend time at a sit-down restaurant. eats like shit but still maintains his physique, infuriatingly enough.
hates being in public more than you’d think. it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling that stems from the risk that being discovered poses during jobs. he prefers to have groceries ordered, meals delivered, and shiu take his car down to the shop if needed. if hes out and about he’s either at the casino tables or the liquor store.
is down for whatever if the price is right. like truly. older women love what he has going on which works well in his favor because it puts a roof over his head. absolutely no shame once money is involved.
has tried to get help for his gambling addiction a few brief times. got close once and then decided to hit the blackjack tables to celebrate his progress. he jokes about how things ended up from time to time but deep down he knows it’s pretty serious.
shops at the goodwill bins mostly. made an effort to stop stealing as much because of how dirt cheap the thrift is but couldn't stick to it. likes to go down the jeans isle and look for change in the pockets. his biggest score was a 5 dollar bill that had been through the washer so many times it was practically blank.
there's a little voice in the back of his head telling him to have more kids and he's not opposed to listening.
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───♡────────♡──── ♡ Pretty (Jennifer Check x Insecure Reader -Fluff-)  ───♡────────♡────
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You feel insecure about your looks and tell Jennifer.
Light swearing. 363 Words.
♡⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹_. ༶ ⋆˙⊹⁺♡
Wednesday, you decided to spend the night at your girlfriend Jennifer's house. Some generic boy-band-pop music was playing in the background as you two conversed about whatever popped in your heads.
You were sitting on Jennifer's pink bed, watching as she twirled in the mirror. She curled her hair and was admiring her new look.
"I could be on the runway for Victoria's Secret, like one of those angel chicks" she said posing.
"Tell me something I don't know" you laugh, and she laughs with you.
The music continued to play filling the otherwise now silent air.
You stared at her, how her body had curves and seemingly in the right places, her nails pristinely manicured and polished. Her healthy hair flowing with a smile so vibrant. She was confident. She was perfect. She was pretty.
"God, I wish I was pretty like you."
She pauses her movements and turns to you before saying, "What? You are, like, crazy fucking pretty, (Y/n/n), what are you talking about?"
"Ugh, you're just saying that because you're my girlfriend" you say playfully tossing a pillow at her.
She caught the pillow before scoffing and tossing it back.
"(Y/n/n), you know I wouldn't say things to you if I didn't mean it, Babe. C'mere." She grabs you by the hand and leads you to the mirror standing beside but a little behind you.
"Your eyes are one of the first things I noticed when I first met you, how unique and pretty they were...especially when they were on me"
You playfully roll your eyes and start to smile.
''And your hairr," she plays with your hair before going on "you pull it off so well you look extra salty". She grins on 'well' and then looks at you directly.
"You know how many people would absolutely kill to have your body?"
You raise your eyebrows and say, "That weird band who got arrested for attempted murder comes to mind."
"Yeah, well, for you, I'd kill those wannabe Green Day rejects."
She hugs you from behind and puts her head on your shoulder before calling you her new nickname for you, "Pretty".
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redskyvenus · 5 months
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𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓 ⟡ TOJI FUSHIGURO
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pairing: husband! toji x fem! reader | wc: 833
content warnings: fluff + smut, no use of Y/N, bite marks, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, pet names, degradation + praise kink, spit, unprotected p-in-v sex
notes: not proofread, i wrote this short drabble out of extreme boredom. hope u enjoy! as always reblogs + comments are v much welcomed, mwah 🖤
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Toji's gravelly voice broke into the quiet morning, drawing your attention as he strolled into the kitchen, a small brown package in his hands, mysteriously delivered to your porch.
“Sweetheart? What’s this?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he dangled the package before you, a sly smile playing on his scarred lips. He couldn't resist a teasing remark, “I thought you were gonna stop ordering shit online? Haven’t I spoiled you enough already?”
You looked up at him and couldn't help but chuckle nervously, setting aside your breakfast. “Oh, that? Must be some mix-up. I haven't ordered anything recently.”
Toji arched a brow, his grin widening. “Y’know, you've said that before,” he quipped, “but then somehow a package mysteriously shows up with your name on it.”
Feeling caught, you giggled, “Well— this time, I'm innocent, I swear.”
He inched closer, holding the package up for you to inspect. "Funny thing, though," he drawled, "your name's right here on the parcel, pretty girl."
You feigned innocence, shrugging nonchalantly. "Coincidence, maybe?"
Toji approached, placing the box on the kitchen island. "If this isn't yours, you won't mind me opening it, right?" His cheerful expression suggested he was ready for whatever was inside.
With a playful sigh, you gestured for him to proceed. “Go ahead, but don't blame me if it's something weird.”
As he tore open the package, the anticipation lingered in the air. The reveal prompted a burst of laughter from both of you—a t-shirt featuring Toji's face, a charismatic grin captured perfectly.
You pouted, feigning disappointment. “Okay, fine. I admit it, wanted to surprise you, but the package was only supposed to arrive next week.”
He smirked mischievously, before pressing a kiss on your temple. “Put it on. Let me see how it looks on you, baby.”
Rolling your eyes but unable to hide a smile, you took off your top and slipped the shirt over your head. Toji's laughter filled the room as you posed dramatically, mimicking the expression on the shirt.
“You look stunning, darling,” he teased, sitting down on the bar stool, pulling you closer.
His ego swelling from seeing his own face on a shirt that you wore with nothing else underneath. Lewd thoughts immediately started to flood his brain, and he gestured for you to sit on his lap. “Come here.”
Hunger flashed through his eyes as calloused hands sneaked under your shirt and started playing with your tits. Rough fingers pinched your nipples and delightfully squeezed your soft breasts.
He whispered sweet praises in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Got such a pretty wife, ‘m truly the luckiest man in the entire universe.”
Removing his sweatpants, his now hardened cock rubbed against your ass. He started to feverishly kiss and suck on your neck, leaving wet teeth marks all over your skin. You practically melted into his touch.
“Tojii—“ you whimpered desperately, arching your back into his strongly built chest to feel more of him.
“No panties, hmm?” He growled before spitting on his fingers, “Dirty girl.”
He started circling your clit and covering your folds in his saliva. His sinful fingers entered your aching cunt, making you gasp from the sudden sensation.
Your head started to spin from the overwhelming pleasure of his digits repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
Gradually increasing his tempo, lewd moans escaped from your lips. You felt your temperature rise and pressure starting to build in your lower abdomen, as he didn’t even attempt to slow down his pace.
“Fuck, Toji. Gonna cum, shitshitshit—“ you panted, the climax hitting you like a tidal wave.
“S’ okay, there you go, baby. Good fucking girl,” he praised. His hand now coated in your juices, Toji swirled his tongue around his fingers.
“Mmhm. Always taste so good.”
He lined himself up with your folds, slapping his tip against your clit a few times, before he finally dipped inside.
“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “This pretty pussy’s so tight for me, huh?”
The stretch of his cock always felt so damn good, even after all those years. He gives you a moment to ease into him, before he speeds up his thrusts.
“My good girl—keep those eyes on me while I fuck you.”
Pounding into you with unforgiving thrusts he felt his own release approaching.
Still sensitive from your first orgasm, with blurry vision and ringing ears you came again—crying out his name.
Upon seeing your blissed out face, his thrusts grew sloppier before thick ropes of cum painted your insides white. Not wanting to waste a single drop, he slowly pulled out.
“I love you, baby,” Toji hummed, softly kissing your forehead.
Seated on the couch after coming down from his high, he watched you do chores around the house.
His eyes glinted devilishly, like a predator stalking its prey, while his cum leaked down your thighs and ruining the new shirt that you wore for him, but he didn’t mind. He would just buy you a new one.
It’s the least he could do after fucking your brains out.
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navstuffs · 11 months
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Nude painting class
Pairing: RookieRE2!Leon x BustyF!Reader
Summary: You and Leon continue meeting in weird circumstances.
Warning tags: au, written with busty/curvy reader in mind, but anyone can read it, SMUT MINORS DNI, nudity, blowjob (m receiving), mask/hidden identity, cum, nudity, tiny cum play, deep-throat, switch!leon, leon loves your tits, ingrid is my oc
Author's Notes: hiiii! my husband gave the ideia (again) for the second part of traffic stop (spoiler alert: he gave the idea for the third/final part as well and it is THE BOMB!!). HABEMUS smuuuuuut! which i want to remind you all, i am no expert, and i hope to continue improving (since for the final part i will def need it)! hope you have fun reading it!
part 1 | my leon's masterlist
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"Nude painting?"
Your friend Ingrid nods her head, excited. You look at yourself: short floral dress, make-up-ready. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you came all the way from Raccoon City to celebrate Ingrid's birthday. You came to have fun, get wasted, and end up in some strange man's arms. Not to paint.
"What happened to the Ingrid that loved drinking and partying?" Ingrid simply shrugs, resting against the passenger seat from the rideshare app. Well, it is her birthday, not yours.
"What about you? When are you leaving Racoon City?"
It is your time to shrug now. You decided to stay when Ingrid and most of your friends moved at the end of high school. You never thought of moving away.
"I love you, but Racoon City has nothing in there. It is a small town everyone leaves as soon as they can. What possibly can keep you there?"
A sudden pair of blue eyes crosses your mind, and you feel your face heating up. Ingrid opens a smirk, holding you in the arm.
"Wait, wait, there is someone?" You bite your lips, shaking your head.
"No, there is no one!" Ingrid holds into your arm, pressing you to tell her.
No, there wasn't. You only met Officer Kennedy once and never saw him again. It is not like you were looking hopeful at every police car that passed. Which you weren't. Or wondering if Leon was thinking as much of you as you thought of him.
You try to take Officer Kennedy out of your head for tonight. He is probably five hours away, doing who-knows-what. You are there to have fun.
-x-
Chris crosses his arm, watching Leon walk back and forth, both already dressed in robes. Chris has a malicious smile on his face: he was the one who convinced Leon to do this. Leon needed the money to help pay for his college anyway.
"I swear, you are fine! We are like, what? Five hours away from Racoon City? Who the fuck would see you? And you are going to be wearing a mask anyway!"
Leon knows this. He knows he is very far away from his workplace, yes, he would be wearing a mask to hide his identity. All of that should serve to ease Leon, but it doesn't. He has this strange feeling inside of him, growing since he arrived. 
Before they leave their locker area, Leon is handed a black full-face Venetian mask. He has his hair back with gel, making it all spiky. They are taken to the paint room, Chris giving a thumbs up before they enter the main room.
Leon is trying hard not to place his hands in front of his dick when he gets to the room, although he is still technically covered. There are around twenty to thirty women in front of blank canvases, all eyeing them up and down. His job is to pose and maybe walk around. Easy peasy, Chris mentioned, and you don't even have to talk.
Leon lets his eyes glance around the room. Most women are excited, talking with each other. That's when Leon notices a woman he never thought he would see right here, his heart beating fast against his chest. One that has not left his mind since the traffic stop.
Leon could not believe his bad luck.
-x-
Ingrid is vibrating with excitement when the models start to come out. You warn her to ease on the wine, but Ingrid says it is her birthday, so she can do whatever she wants. Your eyes went from the stronger one with dark hair to the leaner blonde one, hair pulled back with gel. Why did you feel like you knew him?
"Can we touch them?" Ingrid interrupts your thoughts, excited.
"We can NOT touch them, Ingrid! Not if you want to get kicked out of here!"
You hear screams and claps around, and when you turn back, they take their underwear off. Well, great you lost the strip tease. Your eyes go from the brown-haired one to the blonde. Well, it seems he was hiding some muscles in there.
Your eyes go down to his abs, and it stops just above his pubic hair. Should you dare to look more? Oh, fuck it. It is Ingrid's party, you are there to have fun, you remind yourself. You look down at his cock, and you gulp, staring at it a little longer than you should.
"Okay, I get the brown-haired one, you get the blonde one," Ingrid whispers, startling you.
Your stare finally crosses with the model, and he is highly interested in you. You immediately look away, cheeks heating up, focusing on your canvas. You grab the first brush and paint you find and start painting.
The following two hours feel long for both you and Leon. You must look to draw your model, but if you had glanced three times during that time, it would have been too much. Ingrid, half drunk by now, kept her eyes focused on him every time he passed. You barely moved, his leg brushing lightly against your back.
"I think he likes you," Ingrid whispers, covering her mouth.
"Ingrid, he does not!"
"He keeps passing here, staring at your tits. I think he is getting hard as well."
"Ingrid, he isn't staring at my tits!" You say more loudly than you should. Ingrid slowly turns away, and when you go back to your side, Blonde's cock is literally inches away from your face. You don't move, paralyzed, analyzing from the corner of your eyes. He has some pubic hair in there, not entirely shaved (which gave him more charm). You watch as it suddenly twitches in your line of vision, making you lick your lips.
You hear a low clearing of the throat, and you look up, a very intense blue eyes staring at you right back. With your cheek heating up, you lock in his gaze, wondering what would happen if you shove his cock down your mouth.
"And class is up! Let's see what you did, people!" The teacher announces, waking you and the model for your trance.
He quickly moves away from you as you stare at your horrible paint, half of what was supposed to be a human body done in there. Ingrid's paint looks much better.
"Hey, yours look good!"
"You can focus more when you aren't flirting with your model!"
"I was NOT flirting!"
-x-
Leon slams the locker door open, frustrated. It is far away from Raccoon City, Chris said, you will be fine, he said. And yes, Leon would have been fine if he didn't find himself in front of the woman who had been pestering his mind for the last couple of months. Leon had lost count of how many times he fapped for you, your boobs on his mouth, your tits around his cock, as you took him in your mouth, your boobs bouncing as you rode him.
"...bathroom? Oh, shit, I am so sorry!"
Of course, it had to be you, lost on your way to the bathroom and entering the model's locker room instead. Blonde has his back turned against the door. You can't see his face, but you notice as he quickly grabs the mask before him in the locker. Your eyes start going down to his jeans pants and the line of his underwear. Neither you nor he move until you mutter, embarrassed.
"I am really, really sorry."
"I don't think it was an accident. You came here looking for something, didn't you?" Leon tries to mask his voice, going deeper. Inside, he is freaking out. What if you run away screaming, pervert? He is a cop, for Christ's sake! He has stopped you in traffic before, this would be so unethical in levels he didn't even know of.
You stay quiet until Leon hears the door closing and being locked. He turns around, and you look timid by the door, looking anywhere but him, rubbing the front of your dress with your hands.
"Come here. Sit." Leon says, pointing to the bench in front of him. Leon is thankful you don't look up as you sit. You would notice his nervousness, even through the mask, his hands shaking.
He first looks at your cleavage, a tiny part of your green bra poking. Leon wants to touch and grope them, feel them against his hands, but he holds himself back. Leon gently grabs your chin to look at him.
"I saw the way you looked at me in that class. I know you want me, don't you?" You nod, forgetting about Ingrid outside or that you could get in trouble for this. Leon opens a smile, but you can't see it. "Then come on. Open your mouth. "
Leon doesn't have to say twice. You open the button of his jeans, pulling down his underwear with your shaky hands, causing it to fall altogether. He is hard already, leaking. You waste no time shoving down your mouth.
"Shit. Fuck. Li-like that," Leon groans. Not even in his wildest dreams he thought he would have your pretty lips around his cock. And it feels much better than he imagined in any of his fantasies.
You start to move your head down Leon's length as you go deep into your throat, and Leon thinks he can't survive much of this. Leon looks down at you, pulling your dress down and your bra up much rougher than he intended to expose your boobs. Surprised, you moan as Leon places his hand on the top of your head, keeping you moving. 
Your boobs are finally in his view, and he can't believe it. They are exactly as he remembers. Leon watches you rub your legs against each other when he gropes one of them. He could cum like that.
Leon starts bobbing your head up and down, trying to keep his moan as low as possible. The small locker room is filled with his whimpers, and you know you will never forget about them. He is rough but gentle at the same time, making sure you are not gagging and leaving you space to breathe.
"I am clo-close. So close," Leon stutters, and you think you heard that voice somewhere before. "I want to cum all over your boobs."
You nod, your wetness asking for your attention, but focusing on Leon for now. When Leon thinks he is close, he pulls his dick out of his mouth with a plop, and Leon releases his cum all over your tits and bra. You watch, astonished, as the man in front of cums, moaning loud. The only thing you can properly see is his blue eyes rolling, making sure he covers your boobs with his cum.
When he is done, he looks down at you, his breath noisy against the mask. Leon's breath hitches when he sees your index finger pass on top of his cum and take it to your lips, licking it clean. 
Oh, you wanted to kill him.
With a sudden shot of lust into his blood veins, he lifts you up and makes you turn around. On all fours for him, legs spread apart, your hands support themselves in the walls before you. You are soaked, Leon notices, soaked because of him. When Leon places a warm hand against your ass, a sudden knock on the door makes you both jump.
"Hey? Is someone here still?" The voice of the manager of the place sounds curious by the door.
Silence.
You hear the insistent knock, looking at Leon over your shoulder. He lifts his hand up, motioning for you to stay silent.
"Still here," Leon answers.
"Going to lock the building in less than ten minutes, man! Hurry up!"
"I will be out soon!" Leon answers.
The steps start going away, and you suddenly remember Ingrid. Has she even left? With all strength in the world, you straighten up, your hands going to your bag. There were at least three missing calls from her and five text messages wondering where you are. Decided, you start organizing yourself, not even looking at the man before you. You look around for a towel or anything you can clean yourself, and Leon offers you one. 
"Thanks." You clean your boobs, deciding what to do about your bra. With a sudden decision, and to make you remind you of him, you take it off, placing it on his hand. You smirk as he stares at you. "So, you can remember tonight. Remember me."
You pull your dress up, and Leon watches as your nipples hard against the fabric. He doesn't want you to go, he wants to touch you more, but Leon occupies himself, pullings his underwear and jeans up. You two stare at each other for a moment before you nod.
"Well. It was nice, mhm fun."
Say something, Leon. Say anything. Don't let her go like that. Leon doesn't say anything, simply watching you leave, a little disappointed, the door closing behind you with a click.
Leon throws the mask away, finally giving a good breath. His forehead is sweaty, and he could barely breathe on that thing. The back against the cold locker calms him. Leon finishes organizing himself, feeling a little sad you didn't recognize him from before. How would he be if he was wearing a mask? Leon didn't want to be recognized. Leon shakes his head, ignoring the sad feelings on his chest. He let himself go too far.
It is time to forget you.
-x-
Ingrid is sitting down by the parking lot alone. You apologize a hundred times, and she is furious, thinking you got killed or kidnapped before she calls the rideshare app. You promise you will pay her back when you see a motorcycle coming out at the side of the building. 
The man wears a dark helmet, and you just know by the clothes that this is the model you gave a blowjob. He seems to stop, watching you two alone in the parking lot, his leg on the ground. Again, that familiar feeling is in your chest. He seems to be waiting on something, his stare focused on you and Ingrid. Like he is keeping an eye on you and Ingrid, all alone in that parking lot, late at night.
"Come on, it is here! No more letting you out of my sight tonight!" Ingrid grabs you by the arm. You shot one last look at him before getting into the car.
With a sudden realization and the motorcycle passing fast in the opposite direction, you remember why you felt so familiar: the model had the exact eyes of Officer Leon Kennedy.
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baby-iloveyou · 21 days
Text
you could be a hand model
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pairing: boo seungkwan from seventeen x afab!reader (gender not specified) genre: smut warnings: reader has a hand kink, fingering, slight brat!sk and very slight brat!reader, relationship between seungkwan and reader isn't really established but i wrote with roommates or friends in mind, use of petnames (baby), swearing, lowercase intentional summary: sometimes you need a break from studying. and sometimes you suddenly notice that seungkwan has very nice hands. and sometimes you really want those hands to touch you. word count: 2.2K writer notes: guys i can't take it anymore i need seungkwan so fucking much you really do not understand this is incredibly self-indulgent but i cannot care less he is SO HOT I NEED HIM AND HIS HANDS ON ME IN ME AHHH 
today was a regular thursday afternoon for you and seungkwan: sitting at home on your bed, studying with your shared playlist playing on the bluetooth speaker in front of you, once in a while complaining about how annoying the lecturer is of the one course you both follow.
"jesus, i need a break", you sighed after rewatching the same clip of your lecturer five times. "still not grasping the concept?" seungkwan looked up at you with a bit of worry on his face. "nope. professor fuckface over here can explain as well as a piece of bread that has fallen onto the floor and is covered in hairs and dust" you exclaimed - it didn't make any sense, but neither did the content of whatever your professor was trying to explain.
"i already offered my help but the offer still stands, you know?" seungkwan looked at you, slightly scooting over to your direction. you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes before looking at him. "i know, and i might have to take up that offer. but first i really want a break."
you put your laptop and notebook on the table, next to where the bluetooth speaker is standing, and sit at the edge of the bed. your hands are on your face, pose full of despair, before leaning back to lie down on the bed, hands still covering your face. seungkwan also puts his study materials away and also lies down next to you, with less despair - his hands rest folded on his stomach.
"uncover your face, y/n" seungkwan turned his head to you, waiting to see your face. a beat passed. no movement. "y/n, come on, it's fine" he tried once more, in the hopes you would remove your hands from your face. "i kinda like the darkness right now kwan: it looks a bit like my grade for this stupid course" you replied. seungkwan sighed, and sat upright to start prying your hands off your face. you finally opened your eyes and met eyes with seungkwan. you tried to cover your face again with your hands, but seungkwan held them down so you couldn't do so. "come on y/n, you're exaggerating."
you looked at your hands, pathetically stuck underneath his hands. you never really looked at his hands in detail - because why would you? that would've been weird - but they were very pretty. his fingers were long and slender, and they looked very well cared for. his nails were trimmed, no dirt underneath them, there were no signs of nail biting, and you could see his veins slightly pop out underneath his skin.
although your hands were stuck underneath his, you managed to grab his wrists, and direct his hands to your face - covering your eyes and face now with his hands. "if you don't allow me to cover my face with my own hands, this works for me too" you said, closing your eyes again now that seungkwan's hands were covering your face.
why did his hands smell good? did he use some lotion that just smelled really good? it would explain why they were so soft, lying there on your face, and he seemed like he took good care of his hands.
seungkwan pulled his hands slightly away from your face, one of his hands softly pinching your cheek as if you were a baby, "no y/n, i won't cover your face, just help you with understanding, understood?" his face scrunched up and he winked, as he smiled at you. you once again rolled your eyes at his face pinching, and sat up as well to be on the same level as him again.
"you know, you have good potential to become a hand model" you told seungkwan, whose eyebrows scrunched together, looking at you confused. "where did this thought come from? all of a sudden?" he turned his head, lost on why you suddenly brought this up. "i mean, your hands look very nice, they're really pretty, and you seem to take good care of them! so i just think you could be a hand model" you shrugged, directing your view at his hands first, and at his eyes again afterwards.
"well thank y-" seungkwan could not finish his sentence, as you accidentally interrupted him with "they also smell really nice". you realised what you said, and the both of you started laughing. "did you sniff my hands? do you have a hand kink or something, where is this coming from??" seungkwan said, while laughing at the situation.
oh, maybe that is why you suddenly felt such a strong urge to feel those fingers inside of you.
the thought of you having a hand kink never really crossed your mind, but the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like he was right. "w-what? no!" you giggled, hoping to play it off convincingly. you pulled your legs up from the side of the bed, to sit cross-legged, body facing the man now in front of you.
unfortunately, the thing about seungkwan is that he is very observant. and he was painfully aware that you were not being honest with him.
"mhm, so then what's the flushed face about?" he now turned his entire body your way, so he had an even clearer view on you and your antics. you could see, no, feel, his eyes looking you up and down, a small smirk appearing on his face, as he softly raised one of his eyebrows.
your stomach started to go wild now, as boo seungkwan stared you down as if he was about to win first place in a staring competition. you tried to think of a witty comeback to his hand kink comment, but the more you thought about his hands, the more you wished they would be roaming your body right now, pulling down your pants, fingering you on this exact bed.
"i guess y/n has a hand kink~ how fun!" he licked his lips, and held up one of his hands in front of you. his hand slowly reached down to your hands, grabbing them and resting his hands on top of yours in between the two of you. your eyes rested on the way he held onto your hands, the way his veins popped out a bit more than before.
"i swear, the next time i find out about one of your kinks, you don't get to hear the end of it, boo!" you laughed and sighed, trying to distract yourself from how much just his hands were doing to you. seungkwan was very much enjoying your suffering.
"you'll never figure them out though, we both know you're very blind to things sometimes" he winked and smized at you. okay, that was true. you just wanted to say something so the thought of clenching around his fingers would go away-
"any thoughts on your mind right now? about my pretty hands?" you were about to give up on hiding, and just give in - he had you wrapped around his finger. there was no way you could go back to the time before those thoughts entered your brain-
"i did offer my help, i told you right?" and that broke you. you pulled your hands out of his hold and put them on his shoulders to pull him closer to you. one of your hands snaked into his fluffy hair, the other held his cheek so you could kiss him deeply. your lips played with his soft lips, kissing him as if he was your boyfriend and you had not seen him in two years.
you quickly managed to insert your tongue into his mouth, to which he responded very well. a bit too well. as you gasped for air, you whispered "not only have pretty hands, but you kiss really well, boo". your noses were still touching as you both took deep breaths. "i've been practising in my head" seungkwan exhaled. "i've been wanting to kiss you for so long already." you are taken aback, and slightly pull away. "wait, really? i never knew-" "didn't we just discuss how dense you sometimes are, y/n?" you both giggle shortly, before meeting eyes again and seeing the hunger within each others eyes.
your lips crash back onto each other, your hands now both in seungkwan's hair, his hands on the small of your back and at your neck. another breath of air: "jesus, you taste so good, so much better than anything i could imagine." you chuckle, "wait until you get to taste the other parts of me."
"what if i don't wait?"
if his words were setting your lower area ablaze earlier, this sentence had completely burnt down your cunt. you could feel yourself getting so incredibly wet, and with the thought of seungkwan not only fingering you like you imagined moments earlier, but also licking his fingers after he had touched you was sending you over the edge.
you placed a quick kiss on his lips, before speaking up. "please finger me." seungkwan bit his lip, happy to hear you speak the words he thought about ever since you made comments about his hands. you were not the only one with dirty thoughts, it seemed - seungkwan had his fair share of scenarios playing in his head.
his hands reached to your shorts, pulling them down slowly, together with your underwear. the cold air was now hitting your pussy, making you inhale. your eyes darted to his, and you were happy you did, but also jesus. his eyes had gone completely dark, he was about to go feral, his tongue was hanging out slightly, his mouth formed into a slight smirk. fuck, he is so incredibly hot.
his hands first traced your stomach, then stroked over your legs, and finally hovered over your dripping cunt. you were clenching around absolutely nothing, trying to thrust into something, only to be met with the cold air in your room.
"finger you, you said?" seungkwan cocked up an eyebrow. "yes, god, plea-" you couldn't finish your sentence, as he cupped your pussy, and had found your clit, now playing with it slowly while licking his lips. "what do i get out of this?" you huffed, both because of the stimulation as well as because of his question. "obviously the privilege to finger - oh my god - finger me" you moaned. your eyes kept opening and closing.
"okay, but other than that privilege? i have something in mind, if you want to hear it." you licked your lips, still sighing from the way he was touching you. "wh-what is it?"
"it's actually two things."
"well, go on then, as - oh fuck that's, that's good keep going - as long as you finger me now."
"well, the first thing..." seungkwan said, as he inserted his index finger into your sopping cunt, "is that you suck my dick after i've fingered you."
your brain knew these were all words you knew, and the offer sounded good for what you got from it. but currently you were simply in bliss from seungkwan finally inserting one of his slender, beautiful fingers into you.
"sure, whatever, can do-"
"the other one is...", he inserted another finger, "we go on a proper date sometime after this."
your brain actually processed this but you were in no capability to respond properly, as seungkwan had already started moving his fingers in and out, curling them, scissoring them.
and he felt so incredibly good inside of you. as if his stupid veiny thin slender long hands were made just to finger you.
"ahh, oh my god! ye-yes that sou-sounds good! god that feels so good too!" your moans got louder and louder as he kept fingering you. "you were- you were right seungkwan, ah fuck, i do have a hand kink". he grinned at your observation.
"maybe i have a 'y/n' kink. i'm already obsessed with you."
he kept curling his fingers, twisting them, hitting the perfect spots. his fingers were just the perfect length to hit your most sensitive spot when he curled them up. your moans and grunts turned into saying his name quite a few times now, followed by a "god i'm so close".
"seungkwan, i think - oh fuck - i think i'm gonna cum!"
the way his fingers just so perfectly filled you up. the way you kept clenching around his fingers. the way he was talking to you and looking at you.
he sped up the curling of his fingers, hitting your g-spot even more often, and on top of that added his other hand to toy with your clit now. that was the max.
"cum for me baby, i want to taste you so badly."
you clenched hard around his fingers, cumming on his hand. you could feel a little bit of cum touch your inner thigh as he removed his hands from your vagina.
seungkwan looked you straight in the eyes. brought his hand up to eye level. brought it to his mouth. licked your essence straight off his fingers. hummed.
"if that's how you always react to my hands and me fingering you, i want to do this every single day."
he licked his hands completely clean, leaned forward to kiss you, so you could still taste yourself on his tongue, and sat back again.
"so, do i get my part of the deal now?"
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atticsandwich · 2 months
Text
but you come back to what you need
pairing: mephistopheles / gn! reader (mc)
fluff, tension, mephisto's usual tsun tendencies, mc annoying their way into mephisto's heart etc etc
it's not your fault you enjoy crashing at the newspaper club room for your midday breaks. it's also definitely not your fault for pretending to be asleep when he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, so it really can't be helped that you're trying to figure out how to get more.
i finally finished it LMFAO... i am so sorry for the delay fellow mephisto lovers....
prompt based off of this tiktok reddit video, although it took its own form eventually. (please give it a listen though it's way too fucking cute)
"You're here again?" Mephistopheles groans, seemingly annoyed, putting his pen down as you waltz into his office at the newspaper club room. It's spacious— almost as big as Lucifer's study back at home. You immediately find your place at the seating couch situated at the office's side, feeling your body sink into the soft cushion.
"Previous class drained the hell out of me," you groan, watching the demon across you roll his eyes. "I have a week to list out a bunch of plants I've never heard of and their most effective usage. Potions and stuff," you continue anyway.
"Hmph," he ignores the way you blatantly disregard his posed grievance of your visit, trying to return his focus to his paperwork. "...I have some books on Devildom botany on the second shelf."
You stop yourself from laughing at his attempts at being dismissive— as much as he hates admitting it, you eventually figure out that he doesn't mind your daily visits; an occurence that started out of pure accident, no less.
-
[You recall the first time you barged into his office, out of breath, narrowly escaping Solomon's pure-hearted attempt of making you a surprise lunchbox. You love the sorcerer, you truly do, but you weren't in the mood to have your stomach collapsing onto itself for the next three days. You could only be thankful Simeon gave you a heads up about his plan so you could avoid him during lunch, knowing well enough of your inability to refuse.
"Do me a favor and don't let Solomon know I'm here," he didn't get a chance to retort before you dived to hide behind his chair, just in time as someone started knocking on the office door. With a huff of defeat, he grants the knocker entry— who turned out, to be in fact, the aforementioned sorcerer.
"Mephisto, have you seen my apprentice around? I was meaning to give them homemade lunch, but they ran off right as the bell rang," clearly, the sorcerer was earnest in his actions, but even the demon could feel the malevolent aura emanating from the supposed 'lunch box'.
"No, I have not. I doubt they would come here of their own volition, more especially during break period," he quirked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the almost-vice grip you had on the back of his coat.
"Hm..." Solomon pondered for a second. "That's weird. I thought I saw them run in this direction... I must have been mistaken, then. Thank you anyway, Mephisto!" with that, the clueless sorcerer turned to leave, and it is only when you hear his footsteps fade into the hallways that you breathe a sigh of relief.
Clearing his throat, the demon looks down behind him, and you flash him a bright grin. "I owe you one, Mephisto! You're the best!" you say before quickly wrapping yourself around his back, dashing out of the office before he could say anything in return.
He's relieved you just barely miss the way his face flusters, and the small goofy smile that creeps its way to his face after he double-checks that you're out of periphery.]
-
You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the memory while picking out the book from the shelf Mephisto directed to. It's been a few months since then, and although your visits started off sporadic, it eventually became a daily thing— much to the demon's proclaimed inconvenience. A facade, considering no annoyed demon would start keeping an extra teacup in his office that wasn't Diavalo's spare, which just so happened to be your favorite color. Or the fact that that his record player started having your favorite music on rotation— a complete coincidence!— he exclaimed in defense when you pointed it out one day. Or even the fact that his seating area, which once felt like a completely separate space from his work desk, was slightly rearranged so the sofa just so happened to be in a closer, more comfortable viewing and talking range— not to mention the blanket draped over the backrest which also just so happened to be perfect for midday naps.
"—And what might you laughing about? I doubt a book on botany is hardly a comedic masterpiece," he quips, pulling your attention away from the book.
"Mmm," you shift your angle slightly to look at him better. "Just remembered something funny, is all."
Rolling his eyes, he gets up from his chair to the room's small tea station, where a pair of teacups are set out, a tray of snacks also already conveniently prepared.
"Barbatos gave me this blend the other day, it's supposed to help out with stress. I'm guessing it'll be useful for Lord Diavolo as well."
"Mhm," you nod along, your focus already returned to your botany study.
You hear him mumble an incantation— probably some sort of heat spell to boil water, and it's not long after that he sets your cup on the coffee table, along with a select pick of snacks you usually went for first. You would've teased him about how he knows exactly which ones you go for it if not for the fact that you're fully engrossed with Devildom's botany, making steady progress on your assignment.
"Thanks!" the faint scent of something familiar hits your senses, though you couldn't quite put a name on it. "Mm, this tea is quite fragrant."
"If I recall, it's some sort of human realm fruit essence infused in the blend," he explains, taking a book from one of the shelves, sitting down across from you. "Bergamot, I think it was? I took a little sip earlier, and it's pretty good; although I expect nothing less from Barbatos."
"Ah, that's what it was. I knew it smelt familiar."
He mumbles something incoherently, though you can barely make out the words 'humans' and 'calming effects of familiar scents'. It really is laughable how he still feigns not caring.
"Done with newspaper work already? It's rare for you to take a break at this time of day," holding back a laugh at his ridiculousness, you notice a more faintly lax expression on his face.
"I'm already a bit ahead in progress, so I can afford a small break. On the other hand, I didn't think botany would catch your interest," he points out.
"There’s a lot of cool stuff here! I didn't think I'd enjoy researching it this much. Plants in the human realm just kinda... grow?... with some exceptions, of course," with that, you start listing off the ones you chose for your assignment, particularly enthused about plants often used for traditional and ceremonial practices.
Before long, you managed to finish more than half of your task, all that's left being to actually put it in paper. Tea drank and snacks consumed, you let out a pleased sigh before letting out a yawn and a stretch. Without a word, Mephisto stands to return both your book and his back to the shelf. This time, he pulls out a record from the display and goes to play it, which you instantly recognize as a record you recommended to him some weeks ago. Before you can bring it up, he throws a glare your way, preemptively sensing the teasing that was bound to come out of your mouth. You laugh at him instead, sparing him actual words (for now).
"Fine, fine, I'll shut up and just take a nap. Happy, newspaper boy?"
Groaning at the nickname, he walks over back to his desk. "Do whatever you want. And I already told you to stop calling me that."
"Mmhm," is all you can say, already comfortably in place with the couch blanket draped over yourself, the soft music from the phonograph combined with being filled from the tea and snacks already starting to lull you into deep relaxation. You hear Mephisto grumble something, and you notice his gaze towards you when you turned your head to look at him— one he quickly broke, pretending he wasn't caught.
"Did'ya say something?" your eyelids grow heavy, sleep starting to take over.
"...Nothing. I'll wake you up before your next class."
"I know you will," you mumble before dreaming away.
You're not certain how long you dozed off, but the slight shuffling of an office chair lulled you out of dreamland. Still being sleepy however, your eyes opted to remain closed, hoping to grasp every second of slumber before your afternoon classes. They remained closed when you hear a familiar demon's grumbling noises as he threw another batch of proposal articles in the bin, and they remained close when you sense him quietly walk over to you, his form slowly leaning down over your face. He's so close that you could feel his breath tickle your nose, and you might be hallucinating it, but you think you feel his heart beating a mile a minute.
"Tsk..." you hear him huff out, fingers carefully tucking your hair off your face.
"...I'll never understand why you keep coming back to me," this time, his tone is a lot more soft, you almost didn't recognize it. Half your conscience is telling you to come clean and open your eyes, but you suck it and keep up the act, wanting to see where it goes. You just hope he doesn't notice your own heart beating a mile a minute. You sense him inch closer
"What am I saying..." he whispers to himself.
"...Please keep coming back to me."
In what felt like a blur, you feel the warmth of his lips silently land on the center of your forehead. He lingers there for a few seconds, before you feel him pull away.
Come back, is what you wanted to say, but words have left your throat, and you almost forget you're supposed to be pretending to be asleep.
"...Ugh," he huffs out again, feeling his hair tickle your neck as he lays his head next to yours in exasperation. He snaps out of it in a flash, and you think it slipped his mind that he wasn't supposed to be caught— so much for that anyway, you think. He walks back to his desk, mumbling to himself, and before your mind could start overthinking about what just happened, you slowly sink back into comfort, the last string of thought your mind provided was how much you wanted him to do it again.
You wake up fully this time, by Mephisto snatching the blanket from your sleeping form— keep it up and you'll be late for your last class!, he chastises, and you only groan out a pleading 'five more minutes,' in response.
It's not until a few minutes after you get up that it clicks— that wasn't a dream.
Mephistopheles really kissed you in your sleep.
Sure, it was on your forehead, but now you can't help but continue thinking about it. You thought about it as you waved him goodbye as you left the club room, you thought about it the whole time in class, and you thought about it all the way back to the HoL, where you finally let out a muffled scream as you buried your head in your pillow.
You want him to do it again. You wanted him to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then your—
"Hey, dinner's ready!~" Asmodeus' intrusion cut off your thoughts, but you couldn't even be bothered to care about dinner.
"Hey Asmo?" you ask. The Avatar of Lust perks his brow up in acknowledgment.
"Yes dear?~" it's scary how it's like he can sense what you were thinking...
"...You got any ideas how to get someone to kiss you while awake and not asleep on his couch?"
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WAIT I HAVE A THOUGHT! ok i have two i think it could turn into more but price using his military rank to either a) get someone to back off of sunshine!reader and marissa OR b) sunshine calls him captain during sex OR c) HE USES IT IN BOTH OF THOSE SITUATIONS IN THE SAME FIC 👀👀 …are those weird? idk but if you feel up to it this is a request for you to work your magic on this please and thank you
A/N: uhm, don't look at me nonnie, I got too carried away🫣
Rank me
Summary; As a Captain, Price has an air of authority not everyone does. One day when he returns from base, he finally makes you admit why you find that trait of his particular attractive 
Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)
Rating: Mature
CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 
Word count; 9.3k
Warnings; smut (18+, no minors please), captain!kink, vaginal fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight edging, d/s themes,
Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​
SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST
You sit opposite John, elbow resting against the armrest, head propped up by your fingers. He's seated in one of the two armchairs on the other side of your coffee table while you're sitting on your couch. A folder rests partly on the armrest of his seat and the unoccupied armchair beside him. A few more maps, although closed, were placed on the table. 
You're not nosy with John's work, so the seemingly inconspicuous folders aren't what's gotten your attention. The man reading through them does.
John's elbow relaxes on the armrest while his lower back is curved, sunken into his seat, legs spread with feet planted firmly on the ground. 
You'd tried to remind him of his posture, knowing he probably would complain about his back if he sat like that for too long. When you had, those blue eyes had flickered to yours with an appreciative look as he repositioned himself straight. However, he didn't last like that for long before slowly melting downwards again, retaking his 'I have a bad back but won't do anything about it pose'.
Although, as you now watch him working, it isn't a chide resting on your tongue.
John has returned to active duty, the past week being his first one back since he extended his issued downtime by a week after his most recent deployment, the one during late summer. You learned there's a big difference between active duty and deployed, never even coming close to either despite that martial course you took a few years back. The former meant you often were stationed on your home base, able to go back and forth home if you desired, much like ordinary work. The latter entailed 'a little field trip' as John worded it.
Today, John came to your place as soon as he got off from base, much like he'd done a few times during the week. 
You didn't fuss about spending less time with him than when he was on leave. Not only was it John's job, but there were no regulations for contacting him, so he called the days you didn't meet. Often, the description of his day was brief, only defined somewhat if anything varied from his typical routine. John was usually more interested in how you were and whether you'd done something interesting. If your day had been equally bland, he enjoyed just listening to whatever was on your mind. Today, however, no phone call replaced his absence.
You and John planned to spend the weekend together at your place, and much like he'd promised, he called you once on his way. But, rather than a simple heads-up, he also informed you he would bring some paperwork, his superiors pushing a last-minute request upon him as he was about to leave. You suspected he was permitted to leave base with the documents through his involvement in the 141, not solely because his response ideally -another word for required- would be reported back tonight. 
You've learned a great deal about how John likes to work, even if you've been fortunate to develop your relationship with him in a particularly deployment-free time window of his. 
He prefers keeping work and home separate, not wanting the two words to bleed together in favour of your relationship. John explained why when you didn't understand his frustration about bringing some work with him back home during your earlier call.
Deployments cut into your shared time as it fits, the two of you having to work around it rather than the other way around. Therefore, he intends to limit work to base to savour your time while on active duty or ahead of a leave. If that meant staying a day or so longer after returning from a mission where logistics needed to be taken care of, as he'd done during the summer and your first extended period apart, he said he would make that choice. And if there's an increased load of executive planning and paperwork due to an upcoming operation, his approach is the same.
He explained that, in the past, he'd very much blurred the lines, seeing how being alone and doing nothing for long periods left him restless. But with you in the picture, John tried to balance it. And just like that, you understood his dilemma tonight. He didn't want to make it a habit: filling the time he spent with you working.
You'd tried to compromise, not that you technically could, as he needed to finish his report no matter what. But, you tried to ease John's mind, telling him that sometimes it happened, just like it probably would for you. That was why you also proposed spending time in each other's company by working on your separate stuff, so he didn't feel like he took time away from you. 
For you, that was just fine. It had already been an informal workday for you, meaning no meetings and no contact with clients, simply organising stuff and getting ahead on projects for the upcoming week. Continuing with that for a bit longer was no problem.
Your sluggish day of labour was apparent, as you hadn't even changed out of your sleeping shirt. Neither had you scampered to get a pair of pants when John knocked on your door, favouring to simply greeting him as you were.
He'd been surprised at seeing your state of undressed, rather bare-legged with only underwear beneath his black t-shirt, one of those he left behind earlier during the week. 
Though not surprised like him, you were as delighted as all the other days he'd stopped by, spoiled rotten with seeing him dressed like this.
Like most days this week, that implied some getup per military standard. Today, John wore fitted cargo pants and an army sweater that got the quarter-zip open, offering a view of the tight-fitted shirt beneath it.
He'd greeted you in his same old fashion, a 'hello, love' as he stepped forward and over the threshold to meet you with a kiss. What followed, however, was a hummed 'can get used to bein' greeted like this' against your lips as he parted from you. 
He'd ushered you backwards to let him enter and hide you from any potential neighbours passing by your entrance to see your scantily clad figure.
You didn't object as he closed the door behind him and put down his bag before kneeling to unlace his heavy boots. Instead, your eyes had flittered over his haunched form as he rucked loose his laces before standing straight again, hooking the back of his shoes beneath his toes and stepping out of them. 
He'd followed you into your living room then, deciding to sit opposite you to avoid disturbing the corner you'd set up on the couch, where your computer and blue-light glasses waited. 
Currently, your laptop rests on a pillow in your lap. The glasses you'd invested in, purely because of the copious amount of time you spent before a screen through work, resting on the bridge of your nose. Yet, you're currently using neither as you should. 
The same black standby screen stares at you now as when you'd gone to greet John when he arrived two hours ago. And, your glasses don't serve their purpose of shielding your vision from electronic lights, concerning your attention is directed towards the burly figure of a man sitting so leisurely opposite you.
You hadn't seen John in his work clothes many times. Technically, you'd never seen him geared up and probably never would. So, the closest thing you would get was the standard dressing code he needed to adhere to on base. Up until this week, you'd barely even seen that.
Whereas now and for a few months ahead, the military would cling to him whenever he came around straight from work and spent the night, leaving in a similar-styled fashion in the morning concerning active duty often meant early mornings on base for John, either for a workout regime, meetings or supervising cadets. Between those instances, while unwinding with you, he changed into something more comfortable.
That was why your time of admiring John in these clothes was brief. And yet today, you got to indulge in one of the considerably fewer instances when he didn't immediately change after greeting you and borrowing your shower. In fact, this night was a total break in the routine.
Your eyes drop to the bag beside the armchair John occupies. 
He'd said he would take his usual post-work-freshening-up shower after finishing the most pressing report. But, he'd gotten stuck in the typical workflow that was difficult to break, reaching for another map of documents rather than the bag resting by his feet. Maybe you should've reminded him, but you didn't. 
The honourable reason? You didn't want to disturb John when noting the pile of documents to read had staggered to a measly two compared to the stack he'd brought. The selfish reason making your attention stray considerably more than his laser-focused one? You wanted to savour his appearance a bit longer. 
You knew the visible neckline of the shirt beneath his sweater teased about what was underneath, namely a compression shirt fitted to accentuate John's muscled torso rather than hide it, a sight drool-worthy by itself. But the jumper wasn't a villain for hiding it. In your opinion, it added to it, making the blue-eyed man appear even broader than he already was, as if he could envelop you simply with his frame, tucking you within the expanse of his shoulders. 
Despite how John managed to look so good in clothes produced for durability rather than fashion, it wasn't necessarily the clothes making you unable to rip your eyes off of him.
As always, your eyes drag over John's body until your gaze latches onto the embroiders littered over the sweater. 
On the upper part of his chest, in an easily read, nothing fancy, standard military font, the precise writing of Price is visible. The lettering, placed square in sight on his right pectoral, stands out in a lighter blue text rather than the dark navy composing the sweater. On the opposite side, in the same-letter style, SAS. Sewn onto the right arm of his jumper is a badge-like British flag, so his unit's emblem. Symbols stating his rank also adorn his clothing, marks that your civilian eye probably wouldn't be able to interpret if you didn't already know he was a Captain.
That is why you like seeing John in his work attire. 
The air around him changes. His typical calm stoicism tenfolds, acting as a reminder that his presence demands respect. 
It wasn't a shift that screamed for attention, not hollered as a command to notice. You believe it's because it simply blends with John's personality at home so well. Either his work-life had engrained it into his DNA, so it always was a part of him no matter where he went. Or those traits had always been his fortes, even before serving in the military. You didn't know for sure which was correct. 
Nonetheless, John's calm, secure and disciplined persona reached new heights. He looked like a man in charge. 
It was almost mortifying how affected you got when he dressed like this. And yet, it was just something about John in dark blue or army green attires, with his rank so underwhelmingly stated but so evidently sensed, that made a part of you quiver in excitement.
Yeah, that Captain John Price was a weakness of yours was clear as fucking day.
"You doing good over there, Captain?" Blue eyes shift from the papers he held over his lap to meet your gaze. 
You always revel in how swiftly his attention shifts to you when you use his rank. You didn't do it often. After all, at home, he wasn't Captain. But sometimes, even you used the alias. 
"Mm, all good, love". John's answer was slow, eyes flickering over you before nodding, his eyes falling to the paper before him again.
"The Captain fancying a cup of tea?" 
This time, John didn't move his head. He only glanced up, almost watching you through his eyebrows. "Wouldn't mind". The reply was short, his voice rough. Not grumpy, annoyed or anything like that. Simply profound.
You flash him a smile, pushing your computer aside and setting your glasses on the keyboard. As you stand from the couch, you stretch your legs. 
You catch John's eyes lowering and you bet he didn't abstain from trailing them down your bare legs as you jostle the tingles out of them. Smiling to yourself, you head into the kitchen.
Fine, sometimes you may use his rank solely for his reaction. 
You argue he shouldn't react like that. It's understandable he barely reacts to it when the boys of 141 use it just as much as his government name when addressing him. He must be used to it. So sure, surprise could be the reason in your instance. At the same time, it shouldn't, regarding it holds no value, no substance, when you use his rank.
Still, you've noticed it seemingly carries some weight.
The most common reaction you'd gathered was how swiftly you earned his attention. Nearly every time, you suppressed a grin at how it worked like clockwork. A sharp flicker of his eyes, gaze intense. You've also noticed how his head cock, eyes seemingly searching yours before they often slipped down your figure as he returned to whatever had his attention previously. And then it was how John eventually answered you. Sometimes, he cleared his throat before speaking, others not. Both choices provide a reply of comparable nature. Without exceptions, his voice was deep. 
John's smokey, baritone voice was always pleasant to listen to. There were no edges, even though he wasn't afraid to remain silent between his sentences. And when he filled those with the occasional hum, a purr threatened to spill from your lips to how the low cord melted like liquid gold into your ears. And yet, his voice usually became gruffer when he spoke as a Captain in a professional setting. 
You'd registered it when he once had taken a phone-call to book a time for a meeting with someone named Laswell or when he reprimanded one of the guys in a borderline-serious manner when you met them at a pub during one of their parallel leaves. The firmness in those deeply spoken sentences wasn't present when you dropped a 'Captain' while talking to him. 
But there was something else. Something under your skin just begging you to consider it's awfully close to a particular lustful drawl of John's. The one you regard as utterly and painfully arousing. If not for the truth, then for your lustful desires.
You lean against the counter as you wait for the water to boil, arms crossed over your chest. 
Facing the living room, you watch the only fascinating thing there. 
John just about placed the stack of papers he'd been reading back into its corresponding map, leaning forward to position it on top of the rest. Leaning back again, you notice how he sighs from the quick movement of his chest while opening the last lacklustre folder beside him. Leaving it open, John takes out the reports by gripping its stapled corner, swiftly picking up the reading again. As he does, he notches his thumb beneath his jaw, index finger swiping back and forth over his lower lip, brows pulling together. 
If not for the kettle signalling it's ready, you would've gotten stuck there, rooted in place as you take in the sight of the incredibly handsome man, your handsome man, so engrossed in his work. 
Preparing your respective beverages is easy. The task is something you've done countless times by now. So, within minutes, you're heading towards the seating arrangement with your respective mugs.
John notices your presence before his attention shifts to you, noticeable from how he pulls his stretched-out leg back towards him so you can step between his seat and the coffee table. Yet those blues flicker to you with an appreciative look right before you turn to settle his cup of tea on the tabletop. 
You set the mug down momentarily, reaching for a protective coaster. Placing the circular piece of wood close to the cup, you rearrange it to rest atop it instead. 
That could've been it. You could've just wandered back to your seat, either in an attempt to work or admire the view again. But no.
"There you go, Captain". You shift to face John with an innocent smile, gesturing to the cup from where steam curls upwards, filling the closest proximity of air with a spicy but soft scent of herbs. His hand has fallen from his jaw. Now, it rests on top of the folder at the armrest as he gazes at you, blues-eyes truly observing you. 
You don't know why the seemingly innocent eye contact makes you squirm. But from how John watches you, a feverish sensation rushes through your body, heating you from the inside under the scrutiny of his gaze.
The concoction of having John dressed like he is, watching you as he does and your lecherous imagination does wonders to lighten your belly on fire. You bite your lip, about to return to your seat, when John sits up, abruptly halting your attempt.
The swift thought of 'he's reaching for his mug' is wiped away immediately as he instead reaches for you. 
He circles the back of your neck with his big hand and tugs you down enough to meet him in a kiss. A soft, surprised noise vibrates against his lips, your eyes widening in reaction to his unexpected action, as opposed to his, which slips close.
"Such a darlin' to me, you know that?" John hums the word against your lips. And even if you like doing these small things for him because you see how much he enjoys them, your breath hitches, making John's eyes flutter open. 
When meeting your still wide-eyed expression, his lips bow upwards beneath his beard before his hand falls from your neck. This time, he reaches for the mug. 
As you straighten, your cup clutched against your stomach, John slouches backwards again.
"It's nothing", you reply to the man who looks too fucking indecent for still being fully dressed from the way his thighs fall outwards.
"It's everythin'", John insists. Your heart makes a dangerous leap as his baritone voice travels straight down. 
The way he's watching you doesn't help at fucking all as you feel a surging need to squeeze your legs together, something that would be embarrassingly noticeable from John's position. 
Rather than answering, mouth incredibly dry all of a sudden, you only return his appreciation with a small smile.
That his eyes follow you when you head back to your seat is apparent, your heart continuing its elevated rhythm with each step you take and his attention on your back. But when you sit down, facing him again, he's back to reading, the mug resting against his thigh.
Much like John, you should go back to work. But you don't need to look at your computer to know your last sliver of motivation has disappeared. Your attention undividedly on something else entirely.
You shuffle in your seat, one leg bent and resting on the cushioned seat beneath you, the other pulled close to your body with your foot planted on the couch. It makes you lean slightly to the side and the pillows you'd stacked for a makeshift edge towards the couch's middle.
Unable not to, your eyes flitter over John's form as you nurse your drink. 
His legs spread wide, trapping your gaze to glide over his crotch more than once, especially as he readjusts his position, hips doing that slight upwards jut as he makes himself more comfortable. You also follow his action of occasionally raising the mug to his mouth, his eyes never leaving the paper as he does. 
You watch as he sets down the documents on his leg to switch to the next side with the same hand, not desiring to go through the action of leaning forward, putting down the cup of tea, only to retrieve it to situate himself again.
Eyes remaining on the cup, you remark how John's big hand wraps around it, having no trouble encasing more than half of it. You compare it to how you hold your cup. One hand grabs the ear while your other hand curves along the opposing side.
When he raises the mug to his mouth, you follow the move, gaze lingering on his face even though he lowers it not soon after. 
You map the line of his beard, the purse of his lips, and how his eyes move from the left to the right as he follows the sentences on the paper.
And then, John's eyes flicker upwards, catching your blatant staring. Amusement flickers to life in those blues when you don't even try to play it off before he adverts his gaze down to the paper. 
"You're starin', love". John remarks. The cup of tea is brought to his lips as his attention remains on the document.
"Just enjoying the view", you shrug. Not untrue. 
John's brows arch. Not much later, as if wanting to finish a sentence, his head tilts upwards to look at you. "That so?"
"Mhm", you flash him a brief smile before you raise your mug to your lips, sipping its contents. His eyes narrow briefly. 
Even though you can't think of anything odd in your reaction, John apparently does. 
"Is there somethin' more?"
Your heart jumps. "No, you're free to continue working", you try deflecting John's attempt at making you explain what's on your mind. Apparently, you only succeeded in catching his attention more.
"I'm done". John states, making your brows jump and eyes flicker downwards, not having noticed he was on the last page of a considerably thinner stack of papers, unlike the previous ones. 
"Weren't you instructed to report back?" Your gaze shifts back to his face.
"Taken some notes. I'll send a mail later before goin' to bed". John replies promptly, meanwhile restoring the papers in their proper order. As he places the stack back in its map and drops it on top of the other finished ones on the table, he speaks. "Now I want to hear about what you're tip-toein' around 'cause it doesn't seem like nothin'". 
"No, really, it's nothing important". 
John cocks his head, brows raising in a silent inquiry.
You refuse to believe it's the 'men in uniform' curse amongst civilians. You know that's not the case, seeing how you don't find all soldiers good-looking just because, only John. Even so, you detest the thought of seeming disrespectful, fearing you reduced his career path to a mere point of attraction. It was one thing allowing it to fuel your imagination. But to admit it aloud? To John? Yeah, no.
You reach for the case of your glasses, popping it open with ease and inserting the specs. Placing them on top of your now closed laptop, you scoop them up and stand, about to discard the items in your bedroom.
The action was not impulsive. You always put your device on charge once John arrives. Today, it understandably changed to when he finished the reports he'd brought. Yet you didn't get that far, stopped unexpectedly by his voice.
"Sit". Your body stalls, brows raising. When you don't do as John says, his head cocks, fingers rapping against the armrest as he motions to the seat you just stood from with a nod. This time, you follow his request. "Talk to me, love. What's on your mind?"
Your fingers clutch your computer briefly before you reluctantly set it down on your coffee table. You sip your tea, searching for your words.
Upon your silence, stalling, an urging 'hm?' stems from John.
"I just, you know, think you look good today".
"Do I look any different today than otherwise?" He inquires. You don't think he means to interrogate you, but it feels just like that from how he watches you closely from his seat. It makes you squirm, raising your mug to your lips again before you answer.
"Well, you got those on".
John hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement. And, ever as keen, he figures out what your haphazard motions to his attire imply. "You like the clothes". It's more of a statement than a question, but you give him a nod anyway.
"They look good on you".
"That's what got you so worked up?"
"I'm not-"
"You are", he muses, cutting off your sentence as he leans forward, forearms resting on his knees as he places his mug on the coaster. "Those glasses you're religiously stubborn about using have been more off your face than not despite that laptop of yours being right in front of your face", he points out. 
Your brows pull together, lips parting as a protest isn't far away. But John beats you to it.
"No need denyin', I've noticed you starin' at me more than that screen of yours. Then we can't forge 'bout your teasin'".
This time, your brows genuinely furrow. "I haven't teased you?".
His head tilts to the side. "No? Could think I never left base with how much you've used my rank tonight, love". 
Oh, oh. John thinks your use of his rank is teasing. So it must mean something different when you use it. Not just in your imagination, then. Regardless of discovering this, you don't know how to react to John's admittance. You still feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.
He watches you expectantly as if waiting for you to speak up. Instead, your fingers only rap against your mug before raising it again.
You tip your cup, yet no liquid reaches your lips. Your eyes flicker downwards as you lower it, noticing its emptiness. 
The nervous sips you'd taken off your tea have apparently drained it quicker than you anticipated. 
Much like a mouse making a break for it each time the cat releases it, you don't hesitate to stand and head into the kitchen to discard your mug, seizing the chance to escape John's heavy gaze and probing for enough time you don't fumble for an answer.
What you don't expect is the footsteps following you into the kitchen. But you should've. The cat never lets its prey get too far away.
Naturally, you look over your shoulder.
John moves so assuredly. There's a slight sway to his hips, strides not hurried despite covering the same distance as you in a much more rapid fashion. Confidence, he oozes it from the very way he carries himself.
There's no denying that such a mass moving with such practised ease is on the verge of terrifying. But the thrill harbours an indisputable excitement, especially as your eyes briefly meet John's blue ones, calm but bright with intrigue.
You turn forward as you reach the kitchen counter, putting your mug in the sink, attempting to hide how he affects you. But believing you could hide from an elite soldier in plain sight is foolish. 
The hairs on your neck stand when John steps up behind you.
He sets his mug beside yours before his hands settle on the counter. With one hand at either side of you, his shoulders haunch to eclipse yours, making your heart thump in your chest.
"Indulge me. What about the clothes you like so much it got you behavin' like this?" 
"Uhm-". Your thoughts screech to a halt as you flail for something to say. Admitting just how much John in these clothes affects you brushes on mortifying. "The way it fits you, I guess", you settle on in the end.
"You guess?". John repeats close to your ear.
Pride and a certain level of amusement roll off of him in waves, seeping right through your back, worming itself to your front only to nestle in your chest. Rather than installing the same emotions in you, they fuel your desire and jittery nerves.
"Love?" He gently encourages you to detail your answer, causing you to bite your inner cheek, rolling the meat between your molars. You may be tentative to admit your inner thoughts. But, it's still John with his incredibly calm and soothing self that puts you at ease and finally makes you relent.
"They just make you feel stronger, more authoritative-"
"Authoritative?" If you would've faced John, his inquisitive look would've met you. And yet, you don't even need to, feeling it burn into the side of your head as his ducked head angles towards you. You see it out of your peripheral, how he gazes at you, but you persistently stare directly forward as you give him a slight nod.
You swallow, worrying that you overstepped as you tried explaining the indecent thoughts wrecking your brain without spewing their true nature as blatantly as they arise. 
Assuming that's the reason for John's momentary silence, he surprises you when he finally speaks.
"You know, love", he hums, airy and amused. Your eyes drop, following his hands as they trail up the stone counter until they settle on top of yours. His fingers worms in between your slender ones. "I have noticed how remarkably much you've been staring, how handsy you've been when I come home like this". 
Body lightening on fire, a warm rush sweeps through you, the sound of blood suddenly pounding noticeably in your ears as you duck your head. Had you? You hadn't even thought so.
"Nothing to fluster about".
"Well, I do", you bite back, but there's no venom to your words, only embarrassment that you hadn't hidden your desire well enough, even if it was to an elite soldier you'd lost to. The mouse would forever lose to the cat.
"Why?"
"Because it's wrong, John. Just because you fit too bloody good dressed like a Captain, it shouldn't turn me on this fucking much". Thank god you're not looking at him. You would've sunken through the floor.
"I remember you mentioned somethin' like that the night we met". 
"I said that you suit being a Captain, not that it turns me on". John's exhale borders on a groan and your brows knit together when you catch it.
"Remember you called me that as well". John brushes past the admittance in your sentence as if it's nothing. "Caught me off-guard the first time". He nudges your head from the side, hands tightening over yours. 
"Why?" You breathe, realising his voice has dropped into a husky depth. It only did that when his arousal stirred, which sparked your curiosity enough to repress your humiliation.
"Sounded so wrong from you, a civvie callin' me by rank. But I couldn't deny I liked it". John's face falls into your neck, placing a kiss beneath your ear as he drops a fraction of his weight against your back. Still, it's enough to cage you to the counter and feel his hardening cock against your rear. Your eyes widen. "And then you said it while I was stuffin' that cunt of yours. Bloody hell, I almost lost my head when you called me Captain all stunningly dishevelled beneath me". A surprised gasp rips from your throat at John's words curl along the shell of your ear while he shoves his growing erection against you.
"What are you saying?" Your chest heaves at the end of your sentence as John rubs himself against the plush swell of your ass from behind. 
"I'm tellin' you, despite how wrong it is, that I like when you call me Captain". He husks into your ear, using your wording from earlier. 
John steadily grinds against you, pressing you further into the counter's edge. Instinctually, you arch against him, but one of his hands swiftly grabs your hip, forcing you down. 
"Love, I wanna try somethin' out", he hums. "Tell me if it gets too much. Understood?" There's no hesitancy in John's voice, only an alluring reassurance and passion that pikes your interest.
"Yeah, alright". 
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, John, I understand". You whine, curiosity eating you from the inside, yet he only tsks at you.
"You know what to call me". You inhale sharply. Fuck, could he be talking about? He is. You swallow, mind reeling as you realise John's alluding to something you've only entertained as fantasy. And yet, his rank solely remains a heavy, dirty thought. "Come on, love, know you want to". 
You swallow, eyes wide and staring forward. John must sense your hesitancy as his hand rucks the shirt you're wearing upwards, baring your ass. Attempting to coax you, he shoves his bulge straight into your scantily covered pussy.
"I want you to say it, m'not goin' any further until you do. Both of us must want this". That does the trick. You wouldn't pass up on this chance.
"C-Captain".
"Whole sentence, love".
"I understand, Captain".
"Good girl". He praises you. "Now, you'll take what I give".
"Oh", you breathe out as a violent shiver runs down your spine and the muscles attaching to the back of your head quiver. 
John's not only igniting something so perfectly inside your body. He also flips a switch in your head with his commanding voice, precisely the one that made his authoritative nature as a Captain so attractive. 
"From your reaction, it seems you don't mind bein' ordered around". John breathes into your ear. "Is that correct?"
"Don't mind". 
The man behind you releases a hum as he tests your reply by nudging his foot against your right ankle. You can feel him smirk at how you react, widening your stance one foot at a time without any resistance. Even when John presses himself against your back and continues forward by bending over you until you're flat against the kitchen counter, you don't resist him.  
"So pliant, aren't you?" One of his hands releases yours, yet you continue pressing it against the stone. His fingers trail up your now bent arm, over your shoulder and along the curve of your body until his fingers curl around your waist.
You nod swiftly, only catching the faintest reflection of the movement even though your cheek rests against the polished stone surface. He chuckles at your hasty reply, the sound cracking up the length of your spine.
"Mhm, stay like that now". John instructs, standing straight with a squeeze to your hand that, up until now, remained intertwined with his.  
His fingers run along your clothed spine until it reaches your bared lower vertebral, then your ass until it dips between your legs from behind, pressing into the seam of your underwear.
"Fuckin' hell, you've gotten this wet already? So desperate for your Captain, eh?" You whimper as he pushes against the damp fabric, the material pressing into your folds. 
"Yes, John-Captain!" You correct yourself as he slaps your pussy upon the slip-up. The tap of his palm doesn't hurt but acts as a reminder. Nevertheless, it sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, making you squirm.
"Two rules, love", he remarks. "One, for now, it's Captain. Two, if you don't keep still, I'll stop touchin' you, leavin' you all pent up, just like this, right here", he makes clear. As if daring you to obey, a gentle test calculating how much you really want this, his thumb shallowly probes against your core. Your eyes snap shut, teeth digging into your bottom lip, a forced exhale escaping your lungs as you concentrate on not rocking backwards while fabricating a reply.
"Y-yes, Captain".
As if content with your words and actions, John steps away. Despite the loss of contact, you remain in your position. 
Your pulse thrums as you listen to John, picking up on the shift of clothes and the sound of a zipper. Your anticipation skyrockets as he doesn't hurry his movements, taking his sweet time before he touches you again. When he does, he pulls down your panties until the elastic band digs into the middle of your thighs.
A shuddering breath escapes your lungs when nothing separates John's fingers from your exposed wetness. He runs two fingers up and down almost leisurely until one digit firmly pushes against your clit in a circular sweep. The sudden attention to your throbbing bundle of nerves sends neurons flying.
You don't even know on what scientific level it's possible to stop an involuntary reaction, but just as you feel your lower back muscles tightening, you slam the flatness of your palm against the counter with a 'shit' as you try.
You wouldn't count it as moving, but you did twitch upon the surprising pressure against your clit. And as John pulls away, placing his hand on the small of your back, you whine in defeat, knowing he caught it too.
"What was that?". 
"Nothing, nothing, please, Captain, I'll be good". You don't even realise what you say yourself as you plead with John. He couldn't leave you there. You would possibly explode.
He only tuts, hand pressing firmer against your spine. Your heart drops for a second until he speaks. "I'll let you of this once".
"Thank you". John groans behind you, curse breathed beneath his breath as his character breaks for a moment, caught off guard by your rushed response. It's not long, but it's a reminder that it's still John behind you.
A swift pressure change against your spine indicates he's gathered himself again before he picks up where he left off.
His finger starts trailing up and down your folds again, but you remain in your position in spite of how your legs quiver in want, a desire for more. 
Your wet, sopping, John's digit coated swiftly in your slick as he teases you.
He toys back and forth before his finger slips down. This time you've already braced yourself when he circles your clit. You force yourself to hold still as you whine at the contact, wanting nothing more than to rock backwards.
Noticing your struggle and stubbornness, John's free hand grabs your hip, kneading the flash with gentle squeezes. "Mhm, just like that, love, doin' so good for me".
His baritone rolls over your back, making you shudder, skin knotting with goosebumps. He never once stops the slow movement of his finger, causing you to clench around nothing continuously, especially as he starts flicking the tip of his finger.
You press your forehead against the counter upon the small, sharp jolts of electricity firing pleasure through your nervous system. But it's so fleeting it doesn't have an opportunity to build into anything damning as John pulls away from your clit, falling back to running his digit along your folds.
John stays clear from your throbbing bundle of nerves, rotating his hand as he teasingly concentrates more and more attention on your entrance. You release an anticipated breath as he brushes over it repeatedly until you bite your lip. You want to tilt your hips to make him slip inside. But you withhold the urge, thankfully reaping the rewards before you get desperate enough that your body acts on instinct.
John puts the slightest pressure behind the dragging motion. At first, only the tip of his finger enters you before he pulls it back, doing the same thing a few times until he pushes its entirety inside. 
You moan even though it's not nearly enough to stretch you so deliciously you feel full. But it just feels good having something sliding in and out of you. Though one soon turns to two when John pulls out, a second finger prodding your pussy before both slip inside.
Squelching noises fill the air as he fingers you, his other digits pressing against your ass. You pant, unable to keep your noises at bay as he finally relents somewhat in his fleeting touches and indulges you with some relief. But it's not nearly enough. 
The pace remains slow, his fingers imitating a stroking motion even inside you rather than plunging deep and fast or wriggling forcefully to spur an orgasm. Now, you only feel your high building oh so slowly that it's frustrating how flat the exponential curve is.
And yet, as if projected from your body, you can see the scene you're a part of and find it unbelievably arousing. 
John, with his cock freed from his pants and occasionally brushing against your rear, otherwise fully clothed, almost lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your hole as you bend over the counter, panties around your legs, doing your damnedest to keep fucking still.
You moan at the image, hands pressing flat against the counter before curling into fists. It's so fucking erotic that you feel John's fingers suddenly sliding more easily in and out despite the way you clench around them.
"You're practically drippin', love", he teases you, fingers leaving your entrance for a few seconds, not hovering far from your pussy, until they return with a press against your clit, a new chillier slickness coating them. The acknowledgement that you're wet enough it nearly dribbles from you wears your patience to the breaking point.
"Captain, I can't take it, fuck me already". John doesn't reprimand you for your demand, only chuckles as he steps close, cock pressing against your asscheek. 
His fingers have dropped from your clit, but his touch is soon replaced with the head of his cock as he guides it to your folds, running it up and down to coat himself in your slick. 
You let out a shuddering moan as John pushes slightly against your entrance, tip breaching your hole, only to slip out and repeat the movement. Regardless that he's in charge, your frustrated cry is all it takes for him to push into you properly with an amused huff that sharply pivots into a grunt.
"Yeah, just like that- arch for me… good girl…". John groans, and you take his urge to meet his thrust that you're finally free to move as you wish. 
You gape as he bottoms out in one slow press, hips pressed flush against your ass. You feel his legs tremble, his hands flexing on your hips, but he stays still for your sake of accustoming to his girth.
"So good for your Captain". You whimper at his words, making him chuckle breathily. "Oh, you like that, eh?" He feigns ignorance of what he'd learnt: that you absolutely do. He grabs a fistful of your ass. "Dirty girl…". You gasp as he spanks your rear, the smacking sound making you clench around him.
"Need you to move". You whine as you wriggle your hips. But John bends over you, burly frame forcing your upper body flush to the cool tabletop.
"Come on, love". He scolds huskily against the shell of your ear, warm breath cascading past your cheek. Parts of his hands grip your ass while the rest cover your hips, the meat spilling between his fingers. But he remains still, deep inside you, not moving until the proper phrase falls from your lips. 
It's easier to give in this time, having been shoved over the edge previously, ignoring the immorality of using his rank in this setting and whatever pride left in your body. Mentally, at least. 
Physically, it takes you a few seconds, preoccupied with basking in what's happening. Bent over the counter with the biting kiss from the cold stone dulled from the shirt you borrowed from John. Yet the harshness from the unmoving material doesn't fail to make itself reminded against your soft body despite the shielding material. Effortlessly sandwiching you is the similarly firm body of John, considerably warmer but still effective in immobilising you.
"Captain, please". His rank is honey, saccharine and dripping effortlessly from your tongue once you find your voice through the arousal. "Please move".
"Mm, that's it", he croons, granting you the movement you want as he straightens, not before kissing your clothed shoulder. Exegrated to make up for the fabric separating you.
It starts with calculated thrusts that make you keen and almost roll back and forth on your feet from the steady and slow pace. Then John picks up the speed, rutting against you with powerful snaps of his hips. Your fingers scramble, finding purchase on the counter's edge, curling over the side to have some semblance of grounding force.
It doesn't take long before you moan unabashedly at each stroke, fluttering around his cock as he works his length in and out of you, driving his hips forward and back in a steady beat. Along the erotic sound of skin slapping and wet noises is the filth spewing from his lips.
"This what you wanted, eh?" He gruffs. "With all those looks?" He gets a moan in response as you turn your head so your cheeks rest against the counter, watching him through the corner of your eye. 
John's jaw hangs slack, hair falling along his forehead as he must be staring at where the two of you connect. He looks raptured, almost dazed. He said he wanted this as well and by the looks of it... yeah, he really did. You don't know how you haven't noticed. But, fortunately, John sets your knack of reading people to shame compared to his skill. 
You're snapped out of your thoughts as one of his hands leaves your hips and you see him raise it at an angle. You whine, arching towards it as much as possible with the unbudging surface beneath you. It drags his eyes upwards, noticing how you're watching him. 
His lips tug upwards, eyes never leaving you as his palm swats your ass. A reactionary moan spills from your lip as your legs press against the outer side of his thighs at the sensation, brows knitting together from the stinging pleasure.
It spurs John to rut harder, causing your body to fucking sing as your head gets steadily dizzier.
He releases a breathless chuckle at your inability to conjure anything apart from keening sounds and guttural moans as your body goes lax, eyes fluttering close, body jolting at the new pace he sets.
But he doesn't appear much more put together as he witnesses how you allow yourself to let go, giving the reins entirely to him. 
You catch how John's sentence breaks into fractions, groans and heady sounds spilling from his lips between sentences to rile you up even further. In the end he can't release much more than growling sounds as he folds, resting his chest against your back, using his weight to forcefully push his hips against yours, making his balls tap against your clit each time.
John barely pulls himself back enough to push forwards again, but it's enough to repeatedly batter the head of his cock against the spot making your legs tingly and toes flex before curling. 
Once again, your hands search for something to grasp upon the pleasure coursing through your body. One manages to bend backwards over your shoulder, catching the lapel of John's jumper, and the other slides feebly across the smooth countertop. 
Your orgasm is building, breaths turning stunted, muscles seizing.
You feel John's rhythm stutter as you clench more frequently and reactionary in response to his ruts as you near your release. His head ducks to rest between your shoulder-blades, warm puffs of air seeping through the oversized shirt you're wearing. His teeth bite down on the excess fabric, grunts vibrating against you. 
John's getting close, throbbing violently inside you, hands digging into your hips even further. When he angles his thrusts downwards, a dirty grind at the end of each penetration, he hits so many pleasurable spots that you release an unprompted cry.
You don't need much, so close to your edge that your head thrash that you wedge your hand beneath your forehead to not knock yourself out cold. So when John grits a heady sentence through his teeth and the fabric trapped between them, that's it. 
"Come on, love, be a good girl to your Captain. Wanna feel you squeeze 'round me".
Your eyes snap close as you jerk against him, ass pressing upwards before involuntarily trying to escape his persistent thrusts as the pleasure explodes. But your hipbones are already aching from the counter and you can't flee how John continues to cram his girthy cock into your twitching hole, so you just let him extend your orgasm until he reaches his with a growl. 
John curls around you, hips pressing snuggly against your rear as he spurts his release deep. You feel his warm spend inside you, releasing a shattered moan as your eyelids flutter but, in the end, remain closed.
The stone isn't as cold against your forehead anymore, the surface likely warming from your panting exhales.
John's chest rises and falls against your back. He massages your hips almost unconsciously, small flexes of his fingers. Your hand, previously fisting his jumper, falls to your left hip, squeezing his wrist before your fingers graze over his knuckles and card between digits, easing his grip. It seems to bring him out of his post-orgasmic rouse as he softens the action until he stills completely, now cradling the likely-to-be-discoloured area.
"Fuck", he exhales as he releases your shirt from his teeth. The wet spot where his saliva has sept into the fabric is significant as it falls back against your skin. 
You reply with a soft confirming sound, craning your neck to glance at John. 
His face has risen and is now close to yours. However, what catches you off-guard isn't the proximity but his gaze. It's dark and glittering, a spent smile noticeable through his facial hair.
He kisses you despite the awkward angle. The hair that's
fallen out of place and endearingly covers his forehead brushes yours. 
The interaction is brief before he rises, bringing you with him from the forwards-bent position that's not as comfortable for either of you when the lust-driven haze fades. In the movement, John slips out of you before stepping back. Not soon after, he pulls your underwear into place. 
The hem of his shirt drops around your thighs once you stand again and it doesn't catch on John's hand. You run a hand through your hair, letting it fall to the kitchen counters, noticing your balance is still wobbly. Your other hand assist your balance by resting on the kitchen counter as you take a moment to collect yourself. 
You take a moment to collect yourself before you turn to face John with a sigh. He's just popped the button on his cargos back in place but doesn't care about tucking his t-shirt into the waistband of his pants again.
As John runs a hand through his hair, the other naturally falls to your hip to steady you as his gaze locks with yours.
"All good?" His voice is gritty, pleasure still intertwined with the soft check-in.
"Mm, yeah", you smile sluggishly, your voice breathy. "You?" 
"All good. I wasn't too much?" There's a glimmer of concern in his eyes, one you shoo away immediately.
"No, god, you were not too much, John, you were... really good". You reach out to touch John, hands slipping between the layers of fabric on his torso. He melts under your touch, relaxing the arm that had raised so he could tame his hair, letting it curve around your neck. With the back of your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm, he tugs you closer to him.
"Didn't know you had such a thing for men in uniform, love". He chuckles, lightening the mood as he looks down at you. 
"You in uniform". 
"Compliments your take on a gallantry medal?" 
"Mhm", you hum against his lips. "My Captain deserves them". You cheekily use the nickname you'd moaned shamelessly only minutes prior, making him huff an amused laugh that puffs against your mouth.
"Not gonna hear the end of that, eh?"
"At ease, soldier, I'm only gonna use it when I wanna get a rile out of you". You press a kiss against John's lips and he reciprocates it. In the end, a smile splits yours open, one you greet him with as you lean away, creating a bit of space between you. "But what would they think of that? Esteemed Captain Price with a captain kink". He pinches your rear, and you squeal, a sound that fades into a giggle as the hand previously on the counter settles on your hip. 
"Watch it". The edges of John's eyes are still creased in the corners as he says it, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Just curious", you defend yourself with a shrug. "But I can't say I'm surprised you like the power-trip". You give the blue-eyed man a playful purse of your lips. 
He cock his head, brows arching. "Why?"
"Being a good Captain must come from somewhere. You like ordering people around", you muse.
"Delighted to be your entertainment". John exhales through his nose.
You try to lean up to kiss his furrowed expression away, but by tightening his arm around your head and leaning backwards, he avoids your attempt.
"Don't be pouty. You seemed to enjoy it just as much as I did. Admitted you do". You chide John lightly and he drops the faux offence, delight and piked interest present in his eyes.
"Mm, 'bout that. Didn't know you liked bein' ordered around that much". You smile shyly, head notching forwards, not far from resting against his chest from your closeness.
"We all have our moments of something, don't we?" You look up at John through your lashes. 
His arms slide down until his hand envelops your neck. A hum fills the air before he leans down, pressing his lips against yours briefly, soothing any possible apprehension in your answer framed as a question rather than a statement.
"Would you like me to do it more?" You crack into a smile at his question, eyes fluttering open to meet his blue eyes.
"Yeah, I would like to. I-I adore when you're sweet on me, John, but I also like when you're rough. Just, you know, take what you want sometimes, do as you please". You shrug, catching how John releases the air from his lungs in something akin to wonder and desire.
"You trust me enough?"
"If your men trust you on the field, I think I can trust you in this situation". 
John lets out a long groan, head tipping backwards as his eyes shut tightly. "Don't bring the lads into this, don't want that association".
You chuckle in earnest. "What? You're their Captain first and foremost".
"Not this type", he huffs, head falling forward. Looking at you again, the hand on the side of your neck slides to your hip, both hands now anchored there.
"Alright, alright. Only want you to myself anyways". You lean up, planting a series of kisses against John's lips until he reciprocates, the frown disappearing from his brows.
"Already got me, love". His voice softens, making you smile in return. 
Just as you're about to reply, the sensation of fluids flowing out of you makes you reactively twitch and clamp your legs together, hands flexing on his stomach. John notices, suppressing a smirk as he fishes your hands from beneath his jumper.
"Let's get you cleaned up." John enlaces his hand with one of yours, tugging you along as he heads towards your bathroom. "Still need to have that shower".
"You like seeing me wet, don't you?"
"Never said we would shower". John sends you a humoured look over his shoulder, making you roll your eyes. "Watch that attitude of yours. Things like that get you a lesson in discipline in the army". 
"Because that would be my biggest problem and not sleeping with a Captain, who I much rather get disciplined by." You quip with an amused look.
"Careful with what you wish for, love". John returns, the reply accompanied by a wink. As you chuckle with a shake of your head, John pulls you forward and into his side, planting a kiss on the side of your head, effectively ending the conversation as you step into the bathroom.
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amortentia-over-ice · 1 month
Text
Cross The Line - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
Summary: Being friends with Sebastian hadn't always been easy, but it had been worth it. You had stood with him through everything, and just as things feel like all is right in the world, he suddenly starts to ignore you for no reason. And you don't necessarily take it well when you're ignored.
Warnings: 18+, slight bondage, characters aged up, smut, p in v
Word Count: 3.6k (bit of an intro for this one)
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Sebastian had been avoiding your gaze like you had the damn plague.
It had started out of nowhere. One day...you're both all laughs and chuckles on the sidelines of summoners court. Leander's poses were ridiculous, and you both couldn't help but exchange a few jokes about it.
There had been nothing wrong for the first time in forever, and the spring weather had just started making you and Sebastian entirely carefree as you relaxed together in the grass.
You hadn't noticed as the breeze picked up, accidentally blowing a tangle of your unruly hair into Sebastian's face.
You snorted as his eyes widened whilst your hair attacked him, you apologized trying to tame and untangle him from it. His laugh was softer, though, when he beat you to it. His fingers wrapped around the whipping curl and you paused as he tucked it behind your ear.
You thought you caught something in his eyes, but it was gone before you had time to think.
“Your hair is it’s own magical beast, we ought to study it in class.” He joked ruefully.
You swatted him again. 
“Oh yeah? And how about yours Sebastian? Seems like it’s a topic of study for half the female population already anyhow.”
“And some of the male.” He added smugly. 
“Yes, them too. So bugger off about my own hair already. We all can’t be so lucky.” 
He smiled at you a moment longer, before turning his attention back to summoner’s court.
You had always bantered like this. He was easy to talk to, especially after navigating 5th and 6th year together....in your seventh everything had felt right in line for once. Like you might have been able to relax with each other after having gone through so much.
But you didn’t get to relax for long. 
The next day, you tried to approach him at the Slytherin table, offering him another joke at Leander's expense. All he had offered in return was a weak smile before turning to start a conversation with the witch on the other side of him.
Your smile faltered, but you shook it off. That had been weird, but you tried not to think too much of it. Maybe it had just been a bad joke?
Then, a few days later, you caught up to him in the corridors, slightly out of breath after calling his name to find no answer.
“Sebastian - do you have gnargles in your ears today? I’ve been calling your name for Merlin knows how long.. ” You scolded him, still lightly but the smile wiped from your face when he just shrugged and stated, 
“Were you? Sorry. Mind’s been preoccupied with a Runes assignment. I’ll catch you later though.” 
You knew a dismissal when you saw one. This time, hurt and anger rose as you were left standing in the middle of the corridor as he hurried off. 
But you were nothing if not stubborn. And you would not be ignored. 
Walking into Charms, you saw that the seat next to him was still open...despite his pile of bags and books he had placed on the seat to make it seem occupied. 
You stomped over, unceremoniously shoving his things to the floor and primly seating yourself down. He startled, looking at you with a glare. 
“No other seats in this room seemed to strike your fancy today?” He snapped. 
“Why- don’t want to sit next to me? Do I smell like a dugbog or something?” You snapped right back, despite your heated cheeks.
His own heated in return underneath his freckles as he sighed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his stack of books to rest his head upon them. He pulled his cloak’s hood over the unruly mess of brown and it was the last you saw of him for the rest of the lecture. 
The entire time you were fidgeting uncontrollably. Your knee tapping had both of your notes almost impossible to take. 
At one point, your knee accidentally brushed against Sebastian’s underneath the desk, and he jolted with so much force that the desk shook as his leg flew up with a bang to the underside of the table.
He gave you an icy glare which you returned as well. 
Right as the bell rang, Sebastian clumsily gathered his books and shot up out of his seat to storm his way out, but not before you followed in determination. 
“Sebastian. Talk to me.” You half whispered before grabbing his arm to keep him there. He whirled and looked at you as if you had burned him, his expression switching from anger, to what almost looked like pain for a minute, before indifference settled in. 
“You’re becoming quite a distraction, you know.” 
His words hit you like a brick in your stomach, and you eventually released him to let him storm off again. 
You had turned the words over in your head as you went through the rest of your day. Distraction? How? You had hardly been in his vicinity long enough this week to distract him from anything. 
You were not as gentle with potting your dittany as you should have been, grumbling that, if anything, it was Sebastian who had been distracting you now. 
You had skipped supper that night, opting to brood in the undercroft instead...only to find that Sebastian had the same idea. 
“No-“ He went to stand from the chair he had been seated in, but you had enough. 
“Incancerous!”
You had your wand out of your robe pocket before Sebastian could see the movement, and he grunted as as cords from thin air materialized around his torso to tie him to the chair. His look of absolute shock was almost satisfying. Almost. 
Just to be sure, you flicked your wand again to make sure his hands were bound behind his back as well.
“Are you mad?” Sebastian fidgeted with the restraints to find himself fully detained, but when he looked back at you his eyes held you in what you could only define as slight curiosity. 
It was enough to embolden you more, as if tying up Sebastian Sallow wasn’t enough. He watched as you walked over to him, his brown eyes meeting yours with an arched brow as your head dipped down until you were mere centimeters from his face. 
“Me? Mad? It’s possible....” You teased with a grin, and you swore you saw the corner of his lip twitch as if he was fighting a smile. You were both certainly mad in your own right if this is what it took to finally confront the truth you both had been avoiding.
 “...You’ve been running from me all week, after all, so this was the only thing I could think of to get you to stay put.”
You confessed, watching as his expression turned pained, if just for a moment. 
“Do you deny it?” You pressed him again, and his gaze flickered just slightly down to your lips. He let out a low sigh.
“Like I said. I’ve had a bit on my mind I’ve been trying to sort through. Distractions don’t help.”  
You watched as his eyes tried to find any place else on your body to focus on besides your lips, but it was hard to hide much when he was stuck in place. 
Your heart pounding as an idea came into your mind. An entirely mad one...but as Sebastian had pointed out already, madness had already been established here. Your breath fluttered out nervously before you moved.
“A distraction...?” You murmured hesitantly “...or a temptation?” When your finger tilted his jaw up to meet your eyes again, another low breath left his lips and you felt it brush against your own as you both regarded each other. 
His brows furrowed together stubbornly, but he didn’t look away as he finally said, 
“Does the difference matter?” He uttered, almost indolently as if in defeat.
But you didn’t want him to keep resisting. So you decided to give in. 
You move forward as you both hold your breath, and slowly lower yourself, sliding yourself right onto his lap, crossing into new territory. 
“What are you...” The hushed protest dies in his throat as you press hard against him, arms tangling behind his neck as you line your body against his. You are slightly trembling, and as if realizing that his breath hitches.
And oh. The fit of him against you lines so perfectly. It also allows you to feel the way his heart absolutely thunders, echoing your own.
He lets out a low curse and you swear you see his fingers twitching, itching to touch you.
But touching was an option he’d have to earn. 
You lean back only to observe his expression that is almost pained in his attempt to not just lean forward and capture your mouth right then and there. So, Sebastian watches it instead as you speak. 
“Well...If I’m just a distraction I suppose this will simply annoy you...”
Your other hand drags lower down his abdomen, tugging his shirt tail up to reveal skin, letting your nails slide under the cloth and trail the freckled abdomen you had dreamed about. Immediately he tightens under your touch. You raise your brow at him with a pleased grin.
“But, if I’m a temptation...try and resist me then.”
You nip against his ear and he groans. You had more where that came from.
You kiss everywhere along his neck, his jaw, everywhere besides his lips. His body tenses as if trying hard to continue to resist, but suddenly you feel the hard press of his cock harden against you in response. You sigh with a slightly smug smile of validation. You knew it. You knew he wanted this too.
"Fuck," The words are a groan and you decide to smile sweetly in victory.
"Maybe...it's possible." You whisper between kissing his freckles, "...that you don't want to resist?"
Your words are teasing, but hope lingers at the edges that it's enough for him to nuzzle against you.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for ...” He breathlessly exhales. Then he moves to find your neck. You feel a slight, nervous, pause as his breath coasts down your neck, raising your flesh with his heat. Then, suddenly, he nuzzles down the column of your throat inhaling as if trying to drink in your scent, straining against the ropes. Soft kisses start to pepper against your skin, slowly, as if this was a moment he had been fighting for a while. You lean back to find his eyes, holding them as you say 
“I know what I want, Sebastian.”
You take his words as an opportunity to shift your hips, tracing the length of him between your legs. He lets out another sharp noise as his lips find your skin again in immediate response. Your hand lifts to tangle in his hair to keep him there, tilting your head back and losing yourself in the feel of his open mouthed kisses against your neck...
But you couldn’t let him have all the fun yet. And you still did have to remind him that he had ignored you for an entire week for no reason. 
You lean away from his kiss, though the heat building is hard to leave and his confusion finds you before you lean to lick at his collar bone, slowly removing his shirt where you could, leaving it open everywhere the ropes didn’t bind, biting along the way as another playful punishment, licking your marks as you went. 
But your own...you let that completely fall to the floor to reveal nothing underneath. His eyes widen, dark with desire as they drink you in. 
There is no denying it anymore. This thing between the two of you. But you wanted to hear him say it. 
“Temptation it is then.” 
You whisper as you decided for him, and all he can do is nod in confirmation as he fights for his breath. 
“It’s a line we shouldn’t cross.” He utters in return as everything suspends between you both for a moment.
“We’ve always crossed lines, Sebastian. Since fifth year. Let’s not stop now.”
“That’s exactly why...we ...what I did...you..” Your eyes cloud and as if seeing the need in yours for the first time, his words soften, “..w-why we shouldn’t.” 
“Stop holding on to the past, Sebastian. You only get two options. Now or never. I didn’t tie you up for you to still run away from me."
Your words soften, pressing, as he can't meet your eyes, "...Tell me why we shouldn’t. Or tell me that you want me.” Your words tumbled out, desperate and needing him to tell you what you yearned to hear. 
“Fuck.” His breath is shallow, and then his finally eyes meet yours, serious and unsettling. In a ragged breath he finally gives in. 
“You know I do.” His breath is strangled as the words stumble out..his brown eyes locked on yours, “... I want you. Ever since your damn hair got in my face and all I could breathe was your scent. It’s intoxicating. I’ve wanted you since then. And probably before that. Even though I shouldn’t. I do.” 
His last word cracks in desperation and you meet it with the desperation of your own as you lean forward to capture his lips finally.
A slight whimper escapes your mouth as he meets your kiss with a hunger you weren’t ready for, his open mouth against yours as his tongue rolls to find yours, teeth and tongue, biting and sucking and everywhere, before you can register it. It’s as if he was waiting to devour your. 
His hips rock into yours, the only movement he can manage whilst still tied, and you press hard back against him. The electric charge between you is palpable and despite months of build up it’s only taking seconds for you both to lose yourselves in each other.
Your hair tangles into his brown curls as he gives an appreciative moan into your kiss, you let your fingers tug him closer to you and he kisses you harder, but the ropes groan with how hard he fights them to get closer. 
But not yet.
Your hands travel down as your mouth stays on his, deftly undoing the buttons of his trousers, and shoving them downwards past his knees until his cock springs loose. He groans again and then all but looses his breath as your hands wrap around him. He bucks right into your hands and you breathe words of praise to him. 
“S-shit.” He took in another shaky inhale as your hand moved in a steady rhythm along his length, savoring the feel of him, and finding his girth was enough to have to use both of your hands. Friction still found you, however, with a small adjustment you were able to ride it out against his thigh. The combination of your skin on his now bare thigh, your hands wrapped around his cock...Sebastian was reeling with want as he groaned into your mouth. He pulled back as his cock became harder in your hands, eyes on you with a demanding low growl. 
“That’s it. Untie me. I need my hands on you.” 
You nipped at his lips, and he he hissed. You gave him a smile as your scratchy voice taunted him, 
“Finally telling me what you want like a big boy. Much better.” 
Your hand barely flicks your wand to remove the bindings before his is around your wrist, and the other gripping your hip to pull you back towards him and locking you against him. 
His hand momentarily comes up to tangle in your mess of hair, wrapping it around his hand with a tug.
"I've been wanting to pull on this damn hair since fucking summoner's court." He hisses out before kissing you again. His hand returns to your jaw to kiss you deeper, you moaned into his kiss, and he groaned in return at the sound. He lets his hand at your hip travel down to cup your ass and press you harder against his erection. 
“Did you want me to tell you how many times I’ve been dreaming of fucking you? Of having you right here like this? Do you want that?” 
His breath is shallow against your lips as the confession of his desires has a deep feeling of wanting pulling at your lower stomach, the words going through you like thunder. 
“Yes." You whimper, the word is show and clipped, your hips move mindlessly to show him exactly how much.
Catching your meaning, his hand left your jaw to still your hips, then he went further down until he found your clit, one finger at your apex as the other dipped into you. He exhaled with want as a filthy sound comes out of your throat. 
“So wet for me.” He sighs, and you let out a needy whimper as he continues to work you, pleasure pooling and making a mess between you both. You feel his rock hard cock twitch against your thigh just at the sensation. 
“Sebastian -- Please..”  
But now that his hands are free, Sebastian is painstakingly slow. Continuing to rub against your swollen nub as he watches you writhe and gasp against him as if it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen, watching your every movement. His other travels up your abdomen, to your breast, thumb rubbing over your peaked nipple as he takes in every inch of you, and every inch of you is begging for him.
You realized how badly you had needed him. How you couldn’t stand the brief moment of there being a possibility you were invisible to him, because it was apparent he had seen every inch of you as his hands undid you piece by piece. 
Your hands gripped his curls.
“Sebastian-“ Your breath came faster, as did his.
“That’s it.. Breathe through it, darling. Let me see you..” His shallow praise finally pushed you over the edge as your orgasm rolled through you, and you rode his finger still in you while he drank you in, crying out as you fell against him. 
Next thing you knew, his hands were around you, holding you to pick you up and lower you both to the ground. 
“Merlin -“ He slurs in desire, your name falling like a praise from his lips as he found yours again, never far. 
He parts your thighs with his knee, his eagerness apparent as his body pressed yours deliciously into the floor. You rise to meet him, your own legs wrap around him eagerly as you kiss along his bare chest. You need all of him. Your hips demandingly reach upwards to drag the wetness he drew from you all along his shaft. 
He inhaled sharply as he pulled away briefly, exhaling as his hand cupped your cheek as you both paused for a moment. 
“I- If we do this..”
“Yes.” You cut him off with assured and breathless words.  
“Are you...sure?” 
You pulled his forehead down to yours. 
“I want to cross every line with you.”
He exhaled, as if in relief, and this time when your lips met they moved slowly against each other, as if savoring every movement. 
Vaguely, you felt his fingers hook your soaked cloth to the side, and and the blunt press of his head against your folds. 
You both inhaled, and in the next moment he was pressing inside of you as the line was not only crossed, but entirely decimated. A sinful noise fell from your lips as he filled you.
The feeling was so sweet that you whimpered again, his eyes widened to make sure you were okay, you only nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck.
His shaky breath turned into a groan as his hips pushed deeper into you, sinking in completely. 
“Merlin- fuck. You feel amazing.” 
You sighed in agreement against his ear, his brown curls rustling from your air. 
Then he moved and those sighs turned into hard and fast moans, as you held him like an anchor as he thrusted deep into you. 
There was no holding back. For either for you. The pace was unrelenting as your breath mingled together, praise falling from his lips, his name as a moan from yours. 
As he filled you, his hands traveled along your body, worshipping every inch of skin he could reach, reassuring kisses placed on the nape of your collarbone, until his mouth inevitably found yours again, after years of wanting your lips, he refused to leave them alone. 
His hips drew every ounce of pleasure from you, drawing out slowly only to plunge back in. A sweet torture that had you trembling under him. A hand reached behind him to hold your thigh, pressing it against him to steady you as his clouded eyes watched your face twist with desire under him. He had never imagined how much it would undo him to watch you like this, as you both fell apart together. 
His grip tightens on your thigh, as he tries to still his thrusts, but you protest as your hips roll towards him again to push him deeper yourself. He lets out half of a laugh and half a moan. 
“Don’t hold back from me. Never again.” You breathe out in demand.
He presses back into you wholeheartedly as he promises you, “Never again.” 
The pace increases between you again, desperate, driving each other towards that cliff and your fingers grip his hair again in warning. Then, with a particularly deep thrust, your back starts arching off the ground as the wave inside of you builds around him.
“Seb-“ You gasp, unable to warn him but your muscles clench around him, almost refusing to let him leave your body. You bow under his movements, relishing and taking all he was giving you. 
“Fuck - I can feel you- I’m going to-“ His words are clipped, telling you he’s right there with you. 
Suddenly, his hands find yours, pinning them above your head, allowing him the leverage to thrust deeper into a broken and unrelenting rhythm that had your legs widening and hips rocking to meet him as he drew in and out. Your heated gaze locked on his as the rhythm of your shared pace caused the world to explode into stars around you.
You cry his name as your body combusts around him, he groans  a curse in response as your walls unforgivingly contract around his cock. Your name on his breath is a quick beat, between gasping breaths, until he shudders and falls against you, the hot feel of him filling you...and then the feel of him spilling out of you.
But his hips are won’t to stop, and he continues to move inside of you as your body milks every bit of his own orgasm, pushing through the mess of your juices spilling together between you. 
You both fight to catch your breath, and he looks at you in a way you had seen once before but thought you imagined. 
This time you don’t imagine it. 
He loves you. 
His hand gently cusps your cheek again, leaning his forehead against yours before pressing a tender kiss against your lips. 
As you kiss him back, you now you feel the same. He was a line you would cross again, and again, and again. 
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starkwlkr · 1 month
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Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? James and Alex had been lounging and capturing pictures around the track and he decided to take pictures of her because well she's beautiful in his eyes. So, when someone gets hold of the camera, they decide to give them an album for their anniversary. And that picture is on it. Just something fluff and cute. I don't know if it makes sense. Thanks!! :)))
happy anniversary | james vowles
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no faceclaim i just like putting pictures lol 🫶🏼 @pear-1206
requests are closed
recently alex had gotten a camera. he wasn’t going to follow lando daniel’s footsteps of making an instagram account just for his pictures, this was for fun. he was on the track with his team principal, james, trying out different setting and taking pictures of anything he liked.
“the sunset is pretty.” alex commented as he held his camera up to take a picture of the sunset. before he could take the shot, he noticed his girlfriend, lily, and you, james’ wife, walking the track. he decided to take the picture anyway. “maybe i should change my career.” he joked as he showed james the picture he just took.
“i still need my driver.” james replied. he took a look at the photo and smiled. after many years of dating and marriage, he fell more in love with you everyday. “do you mind if i borrow that for a minute?” he gestured to the camera.
“go ahead, i promised lily we would go to dinner. you can leave it in my driver’s room.” alex said as he left to go get lily so they could go to dinner.
from his spot, james watched as lily and alex left the track, leaving you behind. that’s when james got the bright idea of taking multiple pictures of you.
“you look beautiful, my love.” james called out as you were getting closer to him.
“james! no, i look horrible.” you playfully rolled your eyes. “at least get my good side.”
“every side is your good side, now show me your beautiful smile.” he instructed as he positioned the camera.
you followed his instructions. you weren’t sure how many he was taking so you stopped posing which caused him to groan.
“don’t stop, you look really pretty.” he lowered the camera and showed you the results.
“isn’t this alex’s camera? i think he’ll find it weird that his camera is filled photos of his team principal’s wife.” you looked at the other photos. “oh my god, i do look pretty!”
“that’s what i was saying!”
eventually alex did find the pictures of you when he got his camera back. he didn’t mind, after all it was just for fun. when he showed lily, she found it adorable.
“wait, i think their anniversary is in a few days. we can make an album for them with these pictures! we have to do it!” of course alex said yes, who could say no to lily?
so after a quick trip to the store to buy an album and print the pictures, lily and alex spent the night making your anniversary present.
a few days later, you were in james’ office sitting in the chair across from him at his desk. you were enjoying lunch together when a knock interrupted you. james wasn’t expecting anyone and his team knew it was his lunch break so he was confused.
“come in!” he called out.
seconds later, the door opened revealing lily, alex and several williams team members. even you were confused, probably more than james.
“sorry to disturb you, but we have a gift.” alex announced as he revealed a wrapped gift complete with a bow. “happy anniversary, we hope you like it.” he gave the present to you since you were closest to him.
“alex, don’t i will cry.” you said as you looked at james. “do you want to open it or should i?”
“go ahead, my love.” he nodded.
so you teared open the wrapping paper to reveal an album that had your and james’ names printed on it. you quickly showed james then opened it to reveal the pictures that your husband has taken of you.
“oh my god, this is beautiful.” you commented. “i mean, yeah it’s me, but still.” you said making everyone laugh.
“we also put in some pictures from your instragam, mrs. vowles, you know the ones from your wedding day, the day he proposed. it’s all in there.” alex added.
“i think i am crying, thanks alex i’m crying in front of my pasta!” you joked then stood up to hug the couple for the present. that’s when you noticed the williams team had been recording your reaction.
“this is definitely going every williams social media account.” james laughed.
it was definitely no secret that social media loved the vowles’ and now, they loved you even more.
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badbtssmut · 3 months
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no.10 gym instructor taehyung, making innocent oc do some scandalous pose and he starts humping her, then makes her do another pose to put in his cock in her mouth and then at last pose starts fucking her hard while she still maintains the pose. He possesively says things bout her bf in her ear while pumping in her.
“Like this?” You asked the man as you got on all fours, taking steady breaths. You were doing the pose called the cat stretch, to get warmed up for class.
“Yes,” Taehyung answered as he circled around you, before stopping behind you and staring at your ass. “Just a little more, just like this.” He held onto your hips and you felt his body pressing against your behind.
Your heart started to beat fast. Something was weird about this, but you weren’t sure if you were imagining things.
“Keep your arms steady.” He told you as you felt him hump against you. You couldn't believe what was happening, but you could feel his cock grow against your butt.
You were so surprised that you accidentally fell forward.
"You’re not being steady.” Taehyung commented, seemingly unfazed. "Why don't you try and sit, let’s do an easier one.”
"Sure." You responded as you sat down on the yoga mat.
“Legs flat on the mat, touch your toes with your fingers.” He instructed and you did.
"That's it, perfect." He commented as he pulled down his jogging pants and shorts, revealing his fully erect member.
You looked at it and swallowed hard, but you said nothing as he walked over and pressed the tip of his cock against your lips.
"Open." He said and you did as you were told. He slowly entered your mouth and you sucked his tip.
"Now keep your legs steady, no matter what." He ordered as he slowly thrust in and out of your mouth.
You could only nod. Your mind was blank as he continued to fuck your mouth.
“Good.” He praised you as he placed his hand on top of your head. After a few minutes, he pulled out. “Lay down on your side, raise your leg up, with pointy toes.” He commanded and you did as you were told, trying to maintain balance as you did.
"Perfect." He said as he walked behind you. “That guy that picked you up yesterday, is he your boyfriend?” He inquired as he held onto your raised leg.
“Yes, he is.” You answered him.
“Oh? So why are you getting wet from another man?” He asked, letting go of your leg. “I didn’t say you could drop it.” He corrected you as he watched your leg drop back to the mat.
“S-sorry..” You murmured, raising it back up, hoping he forgot about his previous question. You didn’t even realize that you had gotten wet…
Taehyung laid beside you. "Are you enjoying this?" He asked, running his hands down your stomach, over your clothed pussy.
You bit your lip and shook your head, closing your eyes. “No, that’s not…”
He chuckled and kissed your neck, moving his fingers to rub your clit.
You couldn’t help but moan softly.
“I bet your boyfriend never got you this wet as quick as I did.” Taehyung moved his hand under your pants and panties, and rubbed his fingers along your pussy lips, pushing them apart.
You moaned, you knew this was wrong but for some reason you couldn’t stop it. You were already soaking wet and the way his finger felt against your pussy was driving you crazy.
He slowly pushed one finger inside you and moved it around, rubbing his thumb on your clit. Taehyung kissed you, moving his finger in and out, feeling how tight you were. "I want to put it in." He said as he pulled away from your lips.
You didn’t tell him no. Part of you felt guilty towards your boyfriend while another part was excited about what would come next.
Taehyung held onto his cock, moving it between your legs, pushing the tip in, slowly.
You felt his cock stretching you out as he pushed more of his length in.
"So tight." He murmured, kissing your neck as he began to move his hips, slowly fucking you.
You closed your eyes, shaky breaths and desperate moans coming from you, Taehyung held onto your thigh firmly, keeping your legs spread. You opened your eyes and glanced at the wall mirror, seeing yourself getting fucked from behind, seeing how much pleasure was written on your face. His cock burried into you, going in and out in a slow pace. His hand traveled to your sports bra, pulling it up to expose your breasts. He then cupped one of them, pinching the nipple as he pounded into you.
"Getting fucked by your gym instructor while your boyfriend is probably at work." He whispered in your ear. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"
"Y-yes." You answered him, moaning.
Taehyung let go of your thigh and his hand traveled to your neck, holding it as he thrusted harder into you.
"Ah... T-Tae..." You moaned out his name as his fingers wrapped around your throat, he tilted your head back and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you roughly.
“Fuck, I wanted to do this to you for so long. Knew that pussy would be amazing the first time I saw you in class, I just had to make it mine, I just had to try it. And I was right. This is the best fucking pussy I've had in a while." He grunted, breaking the kiss, looking you in the eyes. "Mine." He groaned, giving your neck a light squeeze.
You didn't answer him, you were completely lost in the moment, whimpering as he picked up the pace. He only paused to push you down onto the mat, making you lay on your back.
Taehyung pushed his hips forward, pushing his length in once again, making you moan out his name, the pleasure building up. He kept a firm grip on your throat as he fucked you hard, your whole body shaking and trembling with every thrust.
"You're mine." He told you as his pace grew erratic, the sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room. “Your boyfriend is a joke— did you start dating him out of pity? Hah, I just know he doesn’t give you the fucking you deserve.”
You tried to reply but the words wouldn't leave your mouth. The way he was slamming into you, the pleasure was too overwhelming. You felt yourself reaching the edge.
Before you could tell him, you felt your orgasm wash over you, and your body convulsed, a loud moan leaving your lips.
Taehyung kept thrusting into you until he too reached his orgasm, spilling his cum deep inside you, before slowly pulling out and looking over you.
“He will be here soon.” He smirked, before tossing a towel your way.
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majaloveschris · 2 months
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Why nothing makes sense part 9.
Vanity Fair edition
What a weekend we had, right? We started with the Oscar pre-party thing, then ended it with Vanity Fair.
First of all, isn't it weird that they waited up until this point to make their red carpet debut? Why not on the Ghosted premiere or on the Golden Globes? Why did they wait until the biggest event's afterparty? She was there at the Ghosted premiere, they were there at the GG after party, why now?
Looking at those VF Fair videos and photos, I still have the same opinion and feeling about them as a couple. They don't look natural at all, and it always seems like they are doing everything for the camera. As if they are always playing a role. And I know, I know, that the most famous couple use their relationship for PR reasons too, which is totally fine. But where is the love? Why does everything seem so forced? I mean, we are supposedly talking about two people who are in love, married, and happier than ever.
They look really awkward in this video. They don't really know what to do. It got better when they started talking to someone, but when they are alone, it seems so unnatural, as if two acquaintances are standing next to each other. The kiss was awkward too, similar to the LA restaurant one. A little kiss on the mouth, and that's it. His face after the kiss was interesting too. He seemed happier before it happened. You can clearly see that when Chris realizes they are being recorded, he starts talking to her, while up until that point he was rather talking to someone else and not even looking at her. They always make sure somebody is watching them when they are about to show how much they "love" each other.
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And I'd also like to talk about this gif (thanks to the person who sent it to me via DM), where you can clearly see he didn't want to pose with her but had to since she made him stay. They posed separately, and then he wanted to go, but she had a different idea.
People say they looked in love, but I don't see it. This was probably his best attempt to sell it, but I wouldn't say it was convincing. Of course he is not going to wipe his mouth; of course he will try harder. This is the VF party, not some kind of pap walk. This is the afterparty of the biggest event in Hollywood. More people will see these contents; more people will see them together. It's also to his benefit not to act like a jerk. But body language doesn't lie. Vibes don't lie. And theirs are always off when they are around each other. It's always hard to pinpoint the exact meaning of this, but the best way to describe it is as being awkward, uncomfortable, and strange. Or as if they always had a fight before they were being photographed and tried to play it off. And two people who are supposedly in love shouldn't give off these vibes or be acting like this.
All in all, it didn't change my mind. However, it showed me that there is still something so weird about them. I guess he could've at least been more convincing in the past years if he tried (I don't think he could've sold this relationship, because again, his body language doesn't lie, but he could've made it better). One thing is for sure: they are awkward together, and everything they do seems so ungenuine.
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