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#black clouds brings out dark me
phoenixdiedaweekago · 2 years
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4/100
Started as a slow day today. My mother has someone she knows who has their Phd thing today and although its of psychology I'm planning to go.
June is almost over still I have seen very few monsoon showers in ny city; very unlike the past normal. I can work with cloudy skies tho, I love dark.
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I will have to take statistical mechanics course new semester if I get physics, so I'm planning to get a little knowledge in it.
A little more than a month is remaining for my summer break. I'm gonna start my 3rd year. Can't believe.
I have done embarrassing less than I planned to do in break and cannot be more sad about it.
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contact-guy · 4 months
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I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...
content warning for drug use!
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I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird
Text under the cut:
"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."
They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.
"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."
"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."
He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"
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gamermattsgf · 3 months
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I mean it // homewrecker Matt
Warnings: smut / cheating plot / thigh ride / dry grinding / wet grinding / degradation kink / praise kink / spit kink / dom Matt x sub fem reader / mentions of drinking + smoking / mentions of drugs / hair pulling if you squint / cum kink / princess kink
Summary: in which Matt is only friends with a guy because he really wants his girlfriend…
Author’s notes: this is my longest one yet but I don’t know how I feel about it yet, I might warm to it later, who knows… obviously, I do not condone cheating, nor is it an acceptable thing to do to anyone, so again if you don’t like it, don’t read it. However, if Matt Sturniolo came up to me one day and offered to steal me away from a current boyfriend… I would not hesitate to take my clothes off on the spot. I rest my case.
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“She wears a ring? Came through without it, you really think she stays true? I doubt it, because I am fucking your girlfriend and there’s nothing you can do about it” - I mean it, G-Eazy
‘Yeah but Matt’s a dick…’
You shrug at your friend’s pointed comment, swishing around the last half of the strange alcoholic mixer that had been thrust into your hand the minute you had walked through the door.
Both of you stand to the side of the noisy, open living room area whilst your backs lean against the cold wallpaper of some rich kid’s penthouse.
‘Yeah… I know’
‘I could literally list all of the things wrong with him on my fingers and I would run out of them. I don’t even know why your boyfriend chooses to be friends with him’. She continues, taking a sip of her own drink whilst you stare off into the distance, mostly looking over to the opposite side of the room where a ping pong table has been set out and both the boyfriend in question and Matt - the subject of your degrading conversation - are playing in a heated game of beer pong.
‘I’m not sure either’
‘He’s a womaniser with literally no respect for anyone around him, he’s a narcissist, and he’s just constantly rude to people.’ She continues to rant aimlessly, her very large hoop earrings jingling as she shakes her head and denies someone who was offering her a selection of ecstasy pills on a silver platter.
The person doesn’t seem to care for the denial and instead shrugs his shoulders before moving on to pester the next highly intoxicated person, coaxing them into falling even more inebriated by placing the tempting round pill into the palm of their open hand.
She then starts again, waving her hands about dramatically whilst you secretly get lost in your own thoughts.
‘You should have heard what he said the other day about a random girl who passed us on the sidewalk, if I-’ but then her voice slowly fades into the distance the more you focus in on Ryan, who stands next to a Matt that cheers him on whilst he aims a ping pong ball up to throw it into one of the cups opposite them.
Matt wears a baggy dark green zip up hoodie that looks almost black in the flashing red LED lights of the room as weed smoke blows up into the air in thick plumes, like tiny little volcanos releasing their clouds of ash.
Suddenly, your heart squeezes strangely and you find yourself beginning to blush in embarrassment when Matt senses someone staring at him and so flicks his eyes over to you. He has his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets and wears a cheeky little smile on his face that puckers even more after he deflects his eyes to the back of Ryan’s head. He then looks back at you and makes a face, as if to playfully scold you for staring.
You bet he finds all of this so funny. The fact that you are looking at him instead of Ryan.
It immediately makes you feel bad, because you know that if you bump into Matt later tonight, he is most definitely going to bring this up just to tease you about it. However, something within the look of his eyes makes you inwardly squirm. Or maybe it’s the way his smirk suites his face so attractively…
But then you come to the conclusion that it is neither of those things, because what it really is, is the way he inconspicuously lifts his middle and pointer fingers up to split them at either side of his mouth and 'scratch his face’ whilst making direct eye contact with you.
He’s got a pair of fucking balls to innocently mimic the dirty joke of eating someone out, you’ll give him that. Whether it is intentional or not, it still makes you screw up your face in disgust and avert your eyes, to which Matt smiles in victory before re-joining the conversation that is being shared around the ping pong table at his end.
His lower half isn’t visible as he stands behind a Ryan that holds a cup in his hand already whilst his other one lets go of a white ball. Everyone watches it bounce to the other side of the table before it neatly splashes into one of the opposition’s cups.
People cheer for Ryan whilst the other random guy groans with his head thrown back. He playfully points at Ryan and Matt, saying something before he swipes up the shot and knocks it back with a screwed up face of disgust.
They’re probably all drinking the equivalent of burning gasoline in those vile, non-diluted drinks. And judging by the way Matt and Ryan have polished off quite a few of the cups on their side already, it’s clear that they must have come to get absolutely shit-faced at this party.
You secretly roll your eyes and nod along as you hum, pretending to listen to a word your friend is saying before another random girl who - your guess, knows her - comes up to chat.
This gives you an excuse to slip out of her eye-line.
Matt.
Aka, the asshole of all assholes, however… also more fondly known as ‘your boyfriend’s best friend’.
It’s not like what your friend says isn’t true, because all of it is. He is a womaniser, he is a narcissist, and he most definitely is disrespectful to everyone most of the time. In fact, Matt sometimes scares you. You don’t like opening your mouth in front of him at all, nor should anyone else, because no matter what is being said, he’ll still manage to be rude about it.
To say he is a fucking bully is an understatement. He’s the kind of person that will snigger at a guy in glasses and whisper about his appearance after he has passed by to his friends or trip up someone in the school hallways ‘by accident’, only to then watch their folders go flying for the fun of it. He is mean and unpleasant, and quite frankly a terrible influence on Ryan.
Plus, annoyingly, as your friend also points out, Matt loves girls, and he loves the attention he receives from them, because he knows he’s hot. Which doesn’t bother you at all, because you’re with Ryan. But what does concern you however, is that more often than not, you catch Matt looking at you in ways that clearly shouldn’t be allowed, especially since he knows that you are taken. No less taken by his best friend.
They are subtle, and he always immediately looks away after you catch him, but usually with no regret in his eyes and sometimes even with little conniving smirks on his face as though you are both sharing a little inside joke.
Ryan is as clueless as ever of course, he trusts too many people, and only ever really sees the best in Matt. He refuses to believe that Matt could be using his friendship for something else entirely. Because unfortunately, sometimes guy are only friends with other guys because they really want their girlfriends.
And lately… Matt has been absolutely oozing those vibes. Sometimes, you get inwardly pissed at Ryan for not realising the obvious signs, because Matt really doesn’t make it discreet. At all.
It always starts with the stupid shit like looking over at his phone whilst he’s texting Matt to arrange a hang out time, only to see Matt replying with an oh-so-innocent ‘oh cool, will ur gf be there?’ as a sneaky way of making sure that you’ll be around.
Either that or it’s him making blatantly flirty remarks, right in front of Ryan.
Stupidly… most of the time all of these go over Ryan’s head and you just have to roll your eyes at him.
The other thing that also leads you to this conclusion is the very worrying fact that you know Matt has a clear track record of being a notorious homewrecker. It’s like… his thing.
He loves pursuing something that people tell him is actually out of his reach. He loves being able to feel like he can touch the untouchable. And here he is, best friends with Ryan, but only because Ryan has a girlfriend… you.
Someone that he maybe- possibly? To your recollection… wants to fuck.
But that’s just your take on it, and it might not even be true, who knows what actually goes on in the complicated weave of Matt’s mind.
Heading further into the haze of the party, you stroll about, practically choking on the smell of sweat, perfume, nicotine and weed. Not to mention the fact that you almost get crushed in between the grinding body parts of people as their skin brushes and presses up against your own.
You trip up on your feet a couple of times and find it pretty hard to breathe in amongst all of the party goers as you barge your way through the claustrophobically intense crowd that flashes generic neon party colours of red, blue and green from the installed lights above.
Your ears ring and your head thumps at the sound of the tasteless rap music still playing, so you decide to do what any normal person would and go up the stairs to find an unoccupied room where you can just lie down and have some peace and quiet. You’re sure the guy throwing this rager has a couple to spare, even if in some of them people have already gone to fuck.
You’re not too drunk to have lost your grip on what is actually going on around you… you can still think straight, however, you’re not exactly stone cold sober either. So, you wobble your way up the stairs and then walk along the corridor, having to try a few rooms before finding a nice empty one.
Sitting down on the plush double bed you sigh. However, in your intoxicated state, you don’t quite realise that the light to the bathroom suite is on and that someone else is also shuffling around on the other side of the door.
Who that someone is, is only made apparent to you after the bathroom door unlocks and he comes stepping out whilst flicking off the light switch.
You quite literally freeze, and part of you thinks you get so much of a fright that you sober up a little when you gaze upon a full bodied Matt standing in the darkened doorway of the bathroom.
Oh…
Matt looks equally as caught off-guard as you as he narrows his eyes.
‘What are you doing in here?’ You stupidly announce, as if it is your own private room that he is in. He rolls his eyes and scoffs, his usual clipped tone being exercised on you as he responds with a sharp ‘I’m just looking around, jesus it’s not like it’s your bathroom’.
You gulp and shake your head in understanding, inwardly scolding yourself on the idiocy of what you had just said. Trying not to stumble upon your words the next time around you keep your eyes trained on him as he marches across the room to have a nose at some of the pictures hanging up on the walls. Now, your hands are shakily white knuckling the bedsheets… fuck, you can’t just leave! That would be weird.
You don’t have to start speaking again however, because Matt does it for you.
‘So why are you up here by yourself? Thought you would have been begging for Ry’s attention by now’. You can feel his smirk through the back of his fucking head.
Pretty much everything that comes out of this man’s mouth makes your blood sear hotly within your veins. Who the fuck does he think he is to say something like that about you?
‘Well I’m not am I?’
This is the only good comeback you can manage to think of and bite back in the time that he gives you. He is already starting to make your hands shake with nervousness.
His back is turned, but he always somehow manages to command your attention.
‘Yeah I guess so’ he shrugs, but then starts an annoying chuckle as he suddenly looks over his shoulder at your body sitting meekly on the bed, his jawline still as sharp as ever and protruding from his neck. ‘Seems like instead you’re looking for my attention then huh?’.
The quipped hum that travels from his throat makes you flush a cherry pink, and you struggle to keep up with his wit since you get nervous about the way he looks at you and the way he commands himself. ‘Oh really, and what gave you that impression?’. But immediately after you say this you wish you could take it back, because Matt swivels on his feet as though you had walked directly into a trap of his own making.
Which to be honest, you kind of had…
‘Well for one, you’re in here… with me. And two, you just couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off of me earlier… and that’s not really supposed to be what loving girlfriends do’ he pouts his lips and tilts his head meanly, already psychologically bullying you because of how much you had looked at him earlier at the ping pong table in comparison to Ryan.
This time you directly roll your eyes at him and decide to get back up from your position on the bed. At least now you feel like you’re not at a loss for power due to the height difference. You don’t like the way that it’s too easy for him to completely tower over you from your spot on the patterned bed covers.
You can tell that Matt is also a little tipsy based off of the way he sways a little as he stands still, but just like yourself, it’s not enough alcohol to make him completely lose his grip on reality and who you are. So why is it, that he looks at you as though you are a hunk of fresh meat up for grabs?
Suddenly he looks away, taking a deep breath and reaching his hand to the nightstand next to the bed. He swipes up the book resting on top of it, and then slowly reads out the title of the classical novel. ‘The Lover’s Den… it’s one of those must reads isn’t it?’ He asks, still with the added patronising tone that never fails to tick you off.
Your skin feels itchy, and you want nothing more than to run out of this room and away from Matt’s presence, because his attitude really affects you in the strangest of ways. ‘Sure I guess…’ you shift awkwardly, trying to keep your answers as brief as possible.
You wish he would just put the book down, but instead he flips it around and starts to read the blurb.
‘An erotic romance filled with dark twists and a lover’s secret…’.
As he speaks these words your heart plummets into your ass. Next come his hooded eyes that flick up to yours and narrow impishly.
Please just let this be over.
You don’t want to be around Matt any more than you can help it, for conflicting reasons. If before you weren’t sure if whether or not he wanted to fuck you, now you’re pretty much certain he did.
You just hate the way that he is so critical about you, and how he can easily make you feel shy and embarrassed about yourself.
Matt is really attractive, almost unfairly attractive, which just makes you feel sick to your stomach about how often your feelings fight with one another when discussing the concepts of right and wrong. Because you shouldn’t be thinking about that at all, especially when you’re in a supposedly “loving” relationship with Ryan- that transforms into a less loving relationship with every single step Matt takes to get to your heaving figure.
By now he has dropped the book and it’s flopped quietly back down onto the mattress, the suggestive pages of the erotica long forgotten by Matt in favour of him getting to what he really wants… you.
‘Aren’t you a little tired of your relationship?’ He gently starts, as if trying to take on the tone of some kind of marriage counsellor. Your heart squeezes as little paper butterflies make their way around the step ladders of your rib cage.
Oh fuck, how the hell are you supposed to respond to that?
You end up simply keeping your lips sealed in shock. Instead, you opt to nervously gulp a drop of your saliva down your scratchy throat as one of your feet naturally takes a step back from his advancing body.
‘Maybe you want to explore a little before you tie any proper knots with your boyfriend no…?’
Matt has reached you now, and as a natural reaction you simply freeze in your spot of one foot stepped behind the other, your heart still galloping and your eyes blinking up at him widely.
As you begin to stutter, Matt’s mouth peels up into a satisfied smirk with his jawline sharp and his hot breath dispersing directly onto your face because of just how close he is. In fact, he’s so close that you can see the small little pores where his dark stubble grows in to shape his beard.
‘Y’know I like exploring too… a lot…’
His voice reduces to nothing more than a mere whisper now as his face gets incomprehensibly closer to yours. Your hands lay limp by your sides, that is, until Matt slowly gravitates his veined ones forward to pinch your softer skin in between his rougher, more masculine grip whilst his thumbs rub temptingly over the flesh that conjoins your pointer fingers to your thumbs.
Your breath is shaky and audible as Matt falls into a hushed quiet, taking your own silence as permission to press his lips against yours.
Something within your brain sounds a shrieking siren that screams ‘RYAN! RYAN! RYAN!’ Over and over again as Matt’s soft lips enclose over yours with a gentle victory that he treats cautiously at first. He’s buttering you up with his tender caresses and soothing voice, knowing exactly how to play to your weaknesses since he’s had practice at swinging sledgehammers at other people’s happy relationships before.
But, unfortunately for Matt, the little nagging voice of Ryan inside of your head succeeds.
Bile almost rises in your throat as reality comes to slap you in the face. You’re knocked out of Matt’s bewitching trance and are absolutely horrified as to what you are doing with him whilst your boyfriend is most likely located just down the stairs from the two of you.
Ripping yourself away, you jump back in terror and leave Matt to open his eyes and blink them, his lips already swollen with arousal before his hand comes up to smoosh against them in a vampiric manner. He then rubs away any saliva that might have oozed from out of his mouth as though he were swiping away blood.
Shaking your head in silence, you once again have practically no words to utter and instead spin on your heels. Making a beeline straight to the door, you leave Matt’s sexual aura behind, his presence and strong smell of aftershave still polluting your nose and playing with your senses before you grasp a hold of the doorknob and slip outside.
However, regrettably, you don’t leave Matt standing alone in the centre of the room for long, because as quickly as you had closed the door right in his face, you are shyly cracking it back open again and sliding into the room with a guilty grimace once more.
Matt only stands there with his arms crossed and a smug fucking smile on his face, the dim bedside table lamp lighting up both of your complexions with a yellowish lustre. It’s as if he knew that you wouldn’t be gone for long - which to be fair, was right - but it still irked you to admit it.
With a final swallow, you put a signature on an imaginary infidelity contract whilst standing meekly a couple of strides away from him. Fiddling with your hands self-consciously, you voice a curious but soft ‘tell me more…’.
Matt’s shoulders rise and his chest expands with a satisfied sigh, knowing that he has won and absolutely loving it in the process.
Walking up to you, his feet pad quietly on the carpet whilst your breaths once again mingle with one another. Regrettably, you feel now that the heartbeat is not just within your chest, but also in between your legs as Matt easily slips his body around to your back.
He exhales another gentle sigh, now a cool air hitting the side of your neck and making you shiver whilst his chest presses against your shoulder blades. Taking your hands within his once again, he now does something that makes you screw your eyes shut and completely mentally kick yourself because of how much you enjoy it.
Pressing his flat palms over the tops of your hands, he splays them onto the bottom of your thighs before sensually sliding his fingers into the slots between yours. Then, he starts dragging both of your hands up each of your thighs, making sure that you can feel as much as he can underneath the pads of your fingertips whilst he breathes into your ear and expands his chest along your back.
‘Hm… I also like a lot of touching…’ he whispers into your ear before nudging it with his nose.
The more you let him guide both of your hands, the closer they get to your now throbbing centre as they slip up your tender inner thighs. But before you two touch it, he expertly manoeuvres them back out to the sides.
Once again, the sensation of your boyfriend’s malicious best friend touching you without him knowing catches up to you and you accidentally freak out.
Jumping away slightly you shake your head and this time move further into the room rather than sprinting back out of the door again.
You begin to pace.
Matt looks at you as though he has the praying eyes of a panther, predatory instincts kicking in as soon as you move away from him.
Smacking his lips in annoyance he raises his eyebrows sassily at you, his earrings glinting in the small stream of light and glittering every time they wobble when he moves.
Making up your mind and making it up quickly, you throw your whole entire relationship built up on trust into the trash as you stutter out a pathetic, cheating question that you hope will answer the doubts running around in your head.
‘You won’t tell a fucking soul about this will you?’
Matt raises his eyebrows again to look at you in judgement before substituting his incredulity for a smirk instead. Placing one of his hands over his heart, his other one raises to his head whilst he pledges allegiance to you with a mocking nickname lilted onto the end of the quip for good measure.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart’
With this… somewhat reassurance, you genuinely believe that Matt won’t tell a soul. So, you decide to think like a man… with your clit instead of with your brain, just as they would with their dicks.
‘So… what else do you like?’ You curiously ask, your voice still laced with a huge amount of hesitance, because you know of Matt’s dating history… and based off of some of the horror stories you’ve heard, you’re sure he likes a lot of different things. He doesn’t seem to be the picky type.
But you let Matt answer for himself, and you also let him once again walk back up to you, this time allowing him into your personal space without any fight at all. In fact, you’re actually more responsive to his touch.
He trails his hands around the hem of your jeans, before fiddling with each side of your shirt whilst his seductive eyes mimic his raspy voice.
‘I like things sticky… wet and messy… if it’s not messy I don’t fucking want it’.
His voice is slow, like dripping hot honey coated in sugar. The overall sensual manner of it makes your panties pool and you can practically feel yourself sticking together down at your core. Matt plays on this a little bit more after he sees how much it affects you.
‘Can you do messy baby? With those gorgeous thighs of yours? You wanna be my good girl tonight?’
He pouts boyishly and then tilts his head just that little bit so that he can feather a teasing kiss onto your lips before pulling away.
By now he is standing in the gap between your legs, enough so that when he compliments your thighs he can reach down to them and cup the backs of them, giving them a testing little squeeze.
His nose runs down the arch of your neck to your shoulder as he does this and at the same time, you both test the waters by giving each other an inconspicuous grind. Matt moans slightly into your skin at the erotic motion whilst the scruffy hair by his ear rubs against your jawline.
Throughout all of this dry sex however, he still manages to keep cool and collected. Unlike you, who practically falls to a puddle at his feet. The only thing keeping you up is his big palms supporting your thighs whilst his lips pucker and pepper a sprinkling of small kisses all along your exposed shoulder.
‘You wanna know how I taste don’t you? How I feel’. His voice rasps cheekily whilst referring to his cock. Now it’s your turn to let something of a stuttered whimper out into the air that gets semi-trapped on the way up because of just how far back your neck tilts to let Matt in to your exposed skin. You notice that now, your back is also arched for him and his cock as well. God how needy could you be?
‘I bet you’re just aching to hear what I sound like when you pull my hair…’ he continues his tease, showing you no mercy as your own hands grip and tighten onto each of his shoulders. They tremor in apprehension.
And now, Matt decides, is the best possible time to give you another kiss. Only this time, it’s longer, heavier and thicker with the feelings of lust laced within the twists of his tongue. Matt also lets your thighs go just so that he can grab a hold of each side of your jawline to steady himself better into the kiss.
Just like he had said before, it’s messy, and it’s sloppy. You easily feel the slick consistency of your salivas layering over the fullness of your lips. He rubs his own pair against yours before trapping them and sucking them, his tongue licking slowly over the plump pink flesh.
‘Give me your tongue baby’
He speaks quietly into your lips, pinching your hip bones after he teases his hands underneath your shirt. Clearly wanting you to reciprocate his tongue motions, it doesn’t take you long to do so whilst he gently pushes his nose to nudge against yours. Sensually, he starts to walk backwards.
Bending his knees, he falls down onto the bed and it squeaks underneath his heavy weight before his thighs spread open and he hauls you to sit on top of one of them. You can feel your cheeks burning.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, just to gaslight yourself into believing that you’re not really doing what you’re actually doing.
If you can’t see Matt and see the way you’re perched on top of his thigh as he easily cradles your ass possessively within his hands, then it’s not happening.
After you start to use your tongue more, from Matt’s tilted neck, you hear a throaty hum of delight before he rasps a quick ‘that’s my girl’.
Only your stomach pools with regret. Because you’re actually not his girl. You’re supposed to be Ryan’s.
You try your best to push the thought to the back of your mind however, and instead focus on the way Matt gently starts to apply pressure to each of your ass cheeks, willing them to slide forward, before he moves his thumbs to the front of your hip bones so that he can dig them into your skin and push you back into a grinding motion.
Your breathing is heavy, as is his, but you still continue to kiss, the sounds of your lips erotically moving together being pretty much the only sound in the room until you decide to speak up in response to what he had said earlier.
‘Well it serves Ryan right for being so stupid and not dropping you when he should have…’
Matt sniggers meanly with a toothy smile through your kiss, almost triumphantly at the fact that he had managed to slip past Ryan’s eyes with ease and take you as if it were like taking candy from a baby.
‘Fuck… you’re just as bad as me baby, aren’t you?…’ he muses in surprise, raising his eyebrows teasingly whilst you break away from each other’s kisses just so that he can look into your eyes. His irises flick between the left side of your face to the right, his hands still working you into a soft grind above his thigh whilst he passes his reddened tongue over his moist lips, almost hungrily. You find it within yourself to weakly smirk at his statement.
‘I’ve been waiting to put my hands on you for so fucking long baby, you have no idea’ he mumbles, again with another low and conniving laugh, not even a single thought about how Ryan would feel about all of this travelling through his mind.
Nope. His only concern currently, is how he can’t wait to hear the way you breathe his name through sweat, tears and pleasure as he has you in any way he wants. He feels proud, as if he is finally claiming his prize for being the shittiest friend known to man. But Matt isn’t really a friendly type of guy anyway. So he doesn’t give a shit.
The only thing he had been interested in was you in the first place, all he had needed to do was find a way into your life without making it too obvious that he was trying to steal you right from underneath Ryan’s nose.
Slowly, he slips his hand down to the front of your jeans, swiftly and expertly manoeuvring his fingers to the button so that he can pop it open and yank down the zipper with a desperate speed about him.
‘Shut up Matt… I don’t want to hear you gloating about this’. You whine pathetically, shyly looking down at Matt’s spread legs and the bottom of his green hoodie that currently covers his black belt, just so that you don’t have to look into his eyes.
He scoffs, yourself still not safe from the sharp edge of his tongue. You yelp when he decides to flex his torso and flip you two around.
‘Oh so you’re gonna be a cheeky little bitch about this then hm? Well, maybe you don’t deserve to have my cock…’ the spit he comes out with is ugly and threatening.
You’ll admit… you’re not quite expecting the change in power dynamic, and just the very sight of seeing Matt crawling his body over yours and trapping you with an animalistic look in his eyes makes all of this seem very real. There’s no going back now…
You gulp and blink with doe-like shock whilst Matt hooks his thumbs into your jeans to pull them halfway down your legs.
He sighs. ‘What would you rather me talk about then?’
But you only pant in return, cautiously looking down towards your jeans that are slowly being peeled from your smooth thighs as Matt’s face finds itself extremely attracted to your open neck.
‘Ugh, I don’t know Matt? Just… anything other than Ryan’ you complain, mildly rolling your eyes. Before he can go in to kiss your flesh, Matt catches this and actually snorts a laugh in response, clearly finding your lack of care for your shitty boyfriend highly amusing.
‘Hey, don’t worry, as soon as I’m finished with you the only name you’ll be able to remember is mine…’. Your thighs subconsciously squeeze at this comment, but you can’t quite clamp them together fully because Matt’s hips are in the way. He notices the tension in both of your muscles and so decides to milk it further by leaning his face down closer to yours whilst whispering a gorgeous ‘yeah? You like that?’ that rolls from off of his tongue with ease.
‘Mhm hmm’ you hum in return, trying to keep your mouth closed so that you don’t whine into the air when responding. Matt is clearly happy at this, reaching down one of his hands to his own pants that are fitted nicely around his legs.
He then places his other hand flat on the bed right next to your hip before using it to hoist all of his body weight up so that the hand down by his pants could expertly undo his belt and slip it out from the belt loops.
It’s extremely attractive, to see him towering over you like this just to undo his belt, and you feel your clit throb behind your panties once again when he bites his lip in concentration to get the rest of his pants undone just by using a single hand.
‘I wanna taste you so bad, but we’re gonna have to be quick baby…’ he mumbles to you after both of your attentions are side tracked to the door, where loud voices can be heard as people walk down the corridor and bypass the room. Too many people know who both of you are at this party, so it is risky doing this in here anyway, considering the fact that there is absolutely no lock on the door.
Pushing down his pants, you nod once again to agree with him before gulping at the slivers of his tanned thighs that reveal themselves the further down his jeans drop.
‘How do you wanna have me?’ You speak up timidly, feeling an awful lot like a mouse in the presence of a lion, one wrong move from you and you’re toast. But you decide to play along with Matt, because he seems to like it when you play the clueless game with him.
‘Have you ever had someone’s thigh before princess?’
Matt seems to immediately know what he wants to do to you with how quickly he responds and seems even more delighted at your virginal response of ‘what the fuck does that mean?’.
‘Sweetheart… has Ryan taught you nothing?’ He coos softly, his patronising tone still there whilst he sneakily slips his hands into your panties to pull them down and have cool air hit your centre. He has to bite his lip at the sight of your gushing wetness.
‘Well not really… he’s always sort of wanted to be on top so I’ve just let him…’. At this response, Matt scoffs and shakes his head in disappointment.
‘God Ryan what the fuck are you doing man?’ He quickly mumbles under his breath as if Ryan is in the room with you two before he turns his attention back to your needy figure.
‘I want you to cum all over my thigh angel… think you can do that for me?’ He questions encouragingly, your panties now also half way down your legs and sitting just above your sagged jeans. Your heart flutters and your back arches up once again whilst you hesitate.
Now, the throbbing is turning into a stinging because you haven’t touched yourself at all since this whole encounter has started, so you decide to simply answer with a quick ‘yes Matt, I-I can do that’.
He praises you right after with a sultry ‘that’s my good girl’ before getting up from his position over you and instead sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you.
Sitting upwards a little, you help Matt grab onto you, and his hands practically swallow your sides whilst he stretches you out onto his lap. Moving a little further up onto the bed his cattish eyes gaze up into yours with his pupils dilated and his mouth a blushing red.
Getting you onto a singular thigh, your knees plant on either side of the mattress and sink down softly due to the weight of your upper body. Your sensitivity touches the lower part of his thigh when you press yourself onto him.
Hissing, you whimper slightly in open-mouthed pain whilst your hands claw onto the sleeves of his green-hoodied shoulders.
You look down at the dark haired skin of his powerful muscle, testing the waters of what he’s about to make you do before you hear a low and guttural ‘spit’ violently exhale from his mouth. Glancing back up at Matt you see that he has an expectant look laced within his eyes.
And it doesn’t matter how much your brain screams that this is all terribly wrong, because you still will you mouth to produce an acceptable amount of saliva before knocking your head downwards and letting it all slowly drip from your open mouth.
The thick globule splatters noisily against Matt’s thigh and now Matt finds himself continuously throbbing at the look you give him as the last remnants of your spit linger around your mouth in mid air like a small spider’s web tendril blowing in the wind.
At least, it’s like that until Matt reaches out one of his fingers to whip it away and lick it into his own mouth.
Your saliva glitters in the low lighting and is soon joined by Matt’s own spit after he gathers it into his mouth and also releases it onto his now already lubed up thigh.
‘Fuck angel you are going to love this…’ he muses cockily, grabbing both of your hips within his hands before groaning whilst he lifts you slightly to place your aching and bare centre onto the sticky consistency of your strings of saliva.
Gritting your teeth upon first impact, you have to close your eyes and try not to whimper at the strange sensation Matt’s thigh gifts to you whilst Matt himself looks up at you, proud of what he has made you feel thus far.
He knew you weren’t going to last long at all.
Your face gets very red and very flushed, very fast. As soon as Matt starts to use his hands in a similar way to how he had when you were both clothed, the pressure it brings to your core nearly makes you light headed. You feel so sensitive, and you can hear your spit being spread about his thigh as he tenses his muscle and then relaxes it to give you a perfect pleasure point when rubbing you over it.
You still have your eyes closed, but from the darkness of your vision, you can clearly hear Matt’s smooth voice cooing a gentle ‘open up those pretty little eyes for me…’.
You struggle to do this in between screwing up your face in pleasure, and knocking your head back automatically every time he decides to lift his thigh up a little into the grind so that you can feel it even harder when you ride him. But you slowly manage to peek both of your eyes open ever so slightly.
‘Fuck sake Matt what are you doing to me…’ you breathe out shakily down to him, both of your noses brushing from your position straight above him. After getting used to his motions, you also decide to help him out a little by engaging further and now using your own legs to hoist your harder and faster on his thigh.
‘I’m just doing what Ryan never could…’ he whispers back up to you in a snake-ish manner, knowing how good he’s fucking you and also knowing that it’ll never be the same with Ryan ever again after this. You’re just simply going to want more and more of Matt instead…
‘It would always make me so jealous whenever he put his hands all over you. I swear he did it on purpose just to tease me… and it killed me every time because I so desperately wanted to know what kind of face you’d make if it were my cock stretching you out…’
Whining to him in stimulation once again, your gut flutters and you have to bite your lip to suppress dizzy spells because of how perfectly he’s using his leg.
‘I love feeling you on me like this princess, you feel so fucking good…’ he breathes back up to you in response. ‘I won’t even have to jerk off later because you’re gonna make me cum in my pants’ he continues.
‘But… what about - fuck - giving you a taste?’ You moan into his lips after you start to messily make out with him once again, now both of your lower and upper body halves at work to help you reach your high.
Matt hums a groan in response to this, bucking his hips forward a little in excitement yet still keeping the quick rhythm of his thigh for you.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay, you can let my face have a turn next time’ he utters quickly and without worry, automatically assuming that there’s going to be a next time - which probably is accurate with the rate that this is going at. Yet, it’s still bold of him to assume.
However, most of your thinking is forgotten as you soon feel like you have bypassed a certain point within your build up stage that tells you that you are ready to cum, because it starts to burn in your gut and you feel like you seriously can’t keep quiet at all anymore with whimpers, whines and moans expelling from your mouth into Matt’s.
Uttering something completely inaudible to him, he seems to catch on that you’re close to finishing and so reaches one of his hands up the front of your top to play with one of your tits beneath your bra. This only enlarges the feeling whilst Matt praises you with showers of ‘you’re being such a good girl for me’ and ‘you’re doing so well angel… just a little more’.
The last remnants of his praise are eeked out of him before something within you snaps and a gushing waterfall of pleasure rolls all the way up your gut like some form of ricocheting explosion. You almost cry, and your eyes certainly dampen a little with tears as your mouth drops open.
From below you, Matt admires the sounds of ecstasy tumbling from your lips as you cum.
‘Shhh, shh- shhh, I know baby, I know…’
Whilst he helps you ride out your high, he hushes you gently like a baby, stroking your back and gazing up at you sympathetically, as if it wasn’t just him who had caused your body to react in this astronomically earth shattering way.
‘Jesus pretty, you’ve soaked my thigh…’ he remarks in absolute shock after you wobble your way off of your seat on his leg to crash tiredly next to him onto the bed. You smirk in exhaustion, before your squished lips mumble a ‘yeah well that’s all of what Ryan couldn’t give me, so savour it Matt…’ into the mattress. Matt also snorts, before cleaning up a little bit of your sticky cum and licking it from off of his finger right in front of you.
‘There… I did get to taste you in the end…’ he muses playfully, to which you hide your face into the blanket and groan at what you had just done.
The feeling of realisation after you’ve made a mistake is never a nice one, however, what is as equally concerning is the fact that you don’t seem to care as much as you thought you would have, which sends warning sirens off in your head once again.
You had just cheated on Ryan… but what’s even worse is that you had cheated on him with his so-called ‘best friend’, the same best friend who had coaxed you into cheating with him in the first place.
‘Ryan can’t know about this…’ you croak fearfully into the mattress whilst Matt stands up to put his pants back on properly again.
He spins around to you, his skinny, short figure accentuated in the light as he does his belt back up with a cheeky grin on his face. His hair is fluffy and tussled at the front from when you had carded your hands through it a couple of times whilst you had fucked.
His little chain with a small horse pendant on it also glitters with malice and cockiness at the state he had left you in, crumpled on top of the mattress. God, he’s going to love sneaking around behind Ryan’s back to fuck you, he always gets a free high from playing these kinds of games with people’s heartstrings.
‘Don’t worry… I don’t kiss and tell… plus, keeping it a secret is all part of the fun anyway…’
Author’s notes p.2: TW: Ryan… the only thing going through my head when writing this was the song ‘Homewrecker’ by Marina and the Diamonds lol, Matt is such a dick but I absolutely LOVE IT. Also guys I’ve literally reached the limit of the amount of people I can put on my taglist, so I’m going to have to tag the rest of u guys in the comment sections now sorryyyy hehe, shits crazy. Thank you so much, I’m always so eternally grateful for all of the love u give my writing, I love reading all of ur asks and messages, so please write more!! 🎀
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chris @orangeypepsi
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peachysunrize · 19 days
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Devil’s Doll ⥃ Mob boss!Aemond
Summary: no one can do anything when Aemond Targaryen sets his eye on a sweet girl and comes to the party with her on his arms, and those who dare to say an ill word will face his wrath with a bullet in their head.
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, possessive & obsessive Aemond, mob/mafia au! Murder, creampie, Aemond is a sociopath simp for you, blood & gore, oral (F! Receiving), rough sex, Qoren Martell is an ass here, self defense murder, ztell me if I’ve missed anything. English isn’t my first language so if you’re not okay with that, simply ignore this post. if you don't wanna read dark content, block rue:darkcontent <3
Word count: 3.5k
a/n: babeeees! Hello and welcome back to another unhinged smutty one shot I have written! Hope this satisfies your needs for possessive Aemond🤭 please reblog and comment, it’s most appreciated🩷
A very special thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta-ing this piece!🩷🫂
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In the world of crimes, Aemond Targaryen’s name is enough to make men shiver in fear. The ruthless nature of him has been the subject of many late-night stories in the past few years in the filthy streets of King’s Landing and beyond.
The one-eyed prince they call him. The infamous second son of Viserys the Coward has built an empire solely around one thing; blood and vengeance. 
After the murder of his fiance at the hands of his uncle, he became an untamed beast, bloodthirsty and hungry for revenge to the point that he became the god in the eyes of many — he wiped the streets off any man from his sister’s clan, ruled on the ashes of their bones and burnt flesh.
He thrived in the newfound power, he cherished it and greedily took more and more until there was nothing left more to take. Aemond Targaryen became the head of his clan with his loyal followers doing anything to please him and keep their heads attached to their necks.
So when he finds a new sweet girl at the local coffee shop he frequents, his emotions begin to cloud his judgment or heighten it in a way.
It starts innocently; a black coffee with dark chocolate on a daily basis, a sweet smile, and ‘Have a nice day, sir!’ Always ready for him. 
Sweet girl, he calls you when you bring him his order and brushes his fingers atop yours when you lean down to put his coffee on the table.
He looks, he observes, and he obsesses over your every move, every step you take, every inhale and exhale. He likes watching you.
The ruthless god of the criminal world has set his eye on his new prey.
You notice him, of course you do, because he wants you to know about him, he wants you to be as interested in him as he is in you. He loves how your lips move when you question his motives; sweet girl he calls you again, telling you how beautiful you look when you work and how he desperately wishes he could take you out on a date. But he can’t, not when his enemies are behind the corner, ready to strike where he is weak.
Yes, you are his weakness, and the one-eye god isn’t used to it, but for you… oh for you he would murder, he would let his bloodlust get the best of him and commit a massacre just to see a glimpse of your smile.
He catches you crying in the corner of the cafe, mouth agape as you stare at the man who was supposed to be your date for today, lying limp and lifeless with a bullet in his head.
Sweet girl, he calls you as he brushes your hair out of your face, you look like a doll, his doll, and oh, in the pit of your stomach you feel a strange warmth because of his heated gaze. He is smiling, he shouldn’t but he is, and you smile back, captivated by his nature, by his cruelty and devotion.
It feels like fresh air when you reach out to caress his dimples, how he has dreamed of your soft skin on his. The touch only makes him hungrier, a desire, a need to make you his, and he does that night. He takes you to your small apartment, giving you a pleasure like no other while you cling to him — sweet girl, my doll, he calls you, vowing in his head to protect you, and when he asks you why you do not feel disgusted by what he has done to that man, you reply:
“I’m sick of heroes. They ruin their loved ones to keep others safe. But a villain, my devil, you, will burn the city without letting a flame touch my skin.”
He is like your shadow from that day; following you around in the dark without you noticing, keeping his business up while he focuses on you. Sweet girl, he thinks, how you smile at those unworthy people, your smile should be his and his only.
The news spreads like fire; Aemond Targaryen has found a new plaything. As soon as those words fall from one of his men, others gasp and shriek, staring at the poor man’s head that has a hole carved with Aemond’s bullet.
Plaything they say, he scoffs at the thought. You are no plaything for him, you are his sun, his moon, the air to his lungs, you are fuel for his soul, and he wishes he could burn under you to show you how much you mean to him, to crumble into pieces and let you stomp over him while he basks in the glow of your face.
You are his doll, The Devil’s doll.
He knows how dangerous his world is, he understands it perfectly, and that’s why he nearly loses himself when he finds the door to your apartment ajar with muddy footprints leading to your bedroom.
He sees red when the scent of iron hits his nose; blood, he thinks. What has happened to you? He has never felt such a strong emotion before, not for his fiance or even his sister. Now, he is shaking with fury, his knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the gun.
You leap into his arm as soon as you spot him in the doorway, letting the knife fall from your hands while you push yourself to him, clutching his shoulders while you sob.
He sighs in relief, holding you in his arms tighter than he has ever done before. You’re alright, his sweet girl, his doll. He listens to you intently, wiping off the tears that fall from your gorgeous eyes gently, oh you look just like a dream come true; your dress is covered in blood, a man you killed for defense lying on the floor beneath his boot.
He has never been more proud of anyone than he is of you.
He wants to show you off to the world, sick of all the hiding and lies behind the rumors spread by Rhaenyra’s clan. He needs to let everyone know how beautiful his doll is, and what a goddess he has in his arms.
He helps you get ready, keeping his hands all over your body while you try to put some clothes on, giggling and indulging him as he kisses your bare shoulders, groaning at the sight of you in black and red.
“Sweet girl, I have to be the luckiest man alive to have you as mine.” He whispers in your ear, eye narrow as he takes you in again, thinking about how he could be graced by your presence.
“And I the luckiest girl, my love. You make me feel so happy,” you reply, spraying your perfume on your neck and collarbones, and Aemond nearly moans as he takes your scent in.
“Fuck, you have to be a sorceress, I am bewitched by your beauty and smile. What have you done to me, doll? What spell have you put me under?” He attacks your neck with kisses, relishing in the small giggle you gift him.
“I’ve poured a potion in your coffee every day, to make sure your eye only sees me and no other girl.” You joke, turning around in his arms to give him a soft peck on the lips, mindful of your lipstick to leave no trace on his clean-shaven face.
“Don’t give me ideas, doll. I might do it just to keep you all to myself.” He grins, his dimples on display for you to kiss them, chuckling as you try to wipe the red stains off his face.
“Oh, I would love that. Please do, my love,” you match his smile, lopping your arms around his neck, “now, let’s go to this party. The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave and have our fun.”
“Anything for you, sweet girl.” He says, offering you his arm as you both walk towards the door, Aemond helping you down while you hold the long skirt of your dress in your hand, taking cautious steps to the car.
Criston nods at both of you and opens the door, waiting until the two of you are settled inside the car before he gets in himself and starts driving to the location.
Aemond was reluctant to attend this party, after all, it was hosted by one of the clans that were loyal to his sister, but his grandfather convinced him to go with Aegon and Daeron, but he declined and said he’d rather go alone with his doll.
You smile at him, caressing his ring-clattered fingers that are caressing your thigh gently, talking with Cole about what is expected of tonight; murder for sure, but he would rather not get caught up in the whirlwind of hatred he has for his sister and uncle, and most importantly, he needs to keep you safe from all the eyes of those hungry men.
The ride to the mansion is quick, and a sense of dread fills the two of you when your eyes meet. Aemond presses a kiss to your forehead to both calm himself and you before the car comes to a stop and he steps out, coming to your side and holding your hand to help you on your feet.
The moment you step inside the house, you are greeted by various couples, men, women, and people that you have no idea about. You keep your head high, squeezing Aemond’s arm as the two of you hide your discomfort behind a smile while everyone keeps staring at you.
“Targaryen,” someone calls Aemond behind you, “you honored me with coming tonight!” You both turn around, finding Mr. Tyrell and his wife and oldest daughter waiting to greet you.
“The honor is mine, sir,” Aemond shakes his hand, reaching to press a kiss to Mrs. Tyrell’s hand, “thank you for having us tonight. Let me introduce you to my girl,” he puts his large palm on your waist, gently pulling you closer to him as you shake and greet your hosts.
“You certainly have won yourself a prize, Aemond.”
“No prize is as beautiful as she is, I’m afraid.” Your lover says, pinching your waist playfully away from the eyes of the attendees, looking at you with nothing but adoration and unconditional devotion.
“You’re too kind, my love,” you smile, “Lady Tyrell, I would love to get to know you more.” Aemond nods at you gratefully, glad that he has discussed his plans for the party with you.
Aemond watches you being led away by the ladies, letting the smile fall from his lips as he gazes back at Tyrell himself, “I hope you have good reasons for wasting my time here.”
“I do, Mr. Targaryen. I wish to introduce you to Prince Martell from Dorne.” Tyrell says, pointing at a group of men who’re talking intensely. As soon as the two of them approach the group, they grow silent, waiting for Aemond to say something — their silence could be because of two things, either they respect him, or they’re terrified of him.
He hoped it was the latter, for with fear there comes blind respect and loyalty.
“Ah, Targaryen,” Prince Qoren Martell says, reaching to shake Aemond’s hand, “how wonderful to finally meet the One-Eyed God of the underground. Made yourself quite the name, huh?” Qoren smirks, already sensing how his words irritate Aemond.
Aemond shakes his hand back, tightening the hold he has on him, a ghost of a sinister smile forms on his face while he stares at the Dornish man with his indigo eye.
“Can’t say the same about you, Prince Qoren. What have you been doing all this time, not ruining the South, I hope?”
“You’re funny,” Qoren laughs, tapping Aemond on the shoulder, “Ah, I missed someone who’d challenged me over stupid things, kind of feels good to have a kid like you around.”
“Mind your words, Martell. He is no ordinary man, these silly little challenges will be the least of your concerns if he decides you’re not worth his time.” Barros Baratheon, ever the loyal dog of Aemond, speaks up, standing tall and proud next to him.
“Pft, please, I’m sure he knows I’m joking!” Qoren laughs nervously this time, “but… I don’t think your man isn’t doing great nowadays huh?”
“What do you mean?” Aemond asks, slapping Qoren’s hand away, “I wonder what has been said that makes you so full of yourself.”
“I don’t need to say a thing, look, your pretty plaything is coming,” Martell smirks as he eyes you up, watching the sway of your hips as you walk shyly towards Aemond, feeling a bit out of place due to all the looks on you.
“Eyes on me, Martell,” Aemond says through gritted teeth, anger swimming in his good eye as he watches the Dornish man look at you intently.
“Aemond…” he turns around at the sound of your voice, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“Sweet girl—“
“Ah, it’s truly a shame that a beautiful girl like you wouldn’t reach anywhere with being a side chick for a Targaryen.” A deadly silence falls on the group, Aemond with his ever-rising temper looks at Qoren who hasn’t realized what he has truly said.
“Elaborate, Martell.” He hisses, reaching to pull you closer to him, covering your body mostly with his.
“You need a lady sooner or later, I doubt a woman from her status would be a good choice of a wife for you. You need someone stronger, with more connections, and a mind as sharp as you, not just a pretty whore to keep your bed warm,” Qoren shrugs, and a few men from his side laugh and agree with him.
Aemond presses his lips into a thin line, his fingers twitching in anger as he gazes at Qoren; he looks murderous, ready to pull his gun out and empty a bullet in that useless head of his — but he’s stopped by the sound of your sniffing.
He looks at you, his features softening immediately when he sees your teary eyes. He feels as if he’s about to die with a dagger in his good eye; the look on your face hurts him, burns his heart, and tears it into pieces. The string you’ve wrapped around him tightens and tightens until he cradles your smaller face in his hand, pressing a sweet kiss to your quivering lips before his eye turn black with madness.
He pushes you behind him, and in a second, the hall is filled with screams and shrieks of horror and bullets flying around, bodies of the men who dared to disrespect Aemond’s doll are falling on the floor next to his shoes one by one.
He feels you bury your head in his blazer, gasping at the sound of yet another bullet firing into someone’s head. Aemond doesn’t blink, not even once. His blood is pumping with the urge to showcase how much he’s willing to do to keep his sweet girl happy and content.
“Let this be a reminder to all of you,” his voice echoes in the hall, “whoever dares to say anything about my girl will face the same fate; death! Aemond Targaryen will go to a fucking war for his future wife!” With that, he holds his gun upwards to the ceiling, firing not one, not two, but nearly six bullets to make sure the hall is empty besides the corpses and the two of you.
“Aemond…”
“Shh,” he shushes you roughly, pressing his lips into a searing kiss to yours, groaning at the sweet taste of your lips. He adores losing himself in you; in your taste, in your scent, in every ounce of attention you give him. He feels blessed to even breathe the same air as you, but kissing you… his heart stops every time his lips meet yours, and now, with adrenaline and anger swirling in his veins, he wants nothing but to show you his devotion — even if it comes out as a rough fucking session while staring at the men he killed for you.
His trimmed nails dig into your sides, groaning at the feeling of you melting beneath his rough touch. Aemond is a man possessed with how he handles you, strong and confident while he finds the closest table and finally breaks the kiss.
He watches how your chest heaves with ragged breaths, lips swollen, and eyes wide and hazy with lust — the perfect picture of a goddess that he has been graced with.
He turns you around, pushing you on the table until you’re bending over, looking directly at the limp bodies on the floor drowning in their own blood. He hums as his fingers caress your spine before he strikes you on your ass, humming at the feeling of the weight of your flesh under his hand. 
He doesn’t have the will to wait anymore. He drops on his knees, pushing your dress up to your hips until he’s face to face with your bare pussy; wet and ready to be devoured. 
“Good girl,” he praises you for listening to him when he asked you earlier to not wear any underwear, “The most gorgeous cunt I’ve ever seen, prettiest girl, my doll.” He’s already drunk on your essence without even tasting it, that’s how much he adores you.
He moans at the same time as you do when he finally dives in, wrapping his thin lips around your buzzing clit as he devours and eats like a starved dog, caging your hips while he takes and takes and takes from you.
There’s not a thought in his head, empty and filled with nothing but an urge to show you how eager he is to please and protect you, your loyal dog he calls himself.
The One-Eyed God crumbles for a simple barista girl, and not a single soul dares to say a word, for if they say, they’ll experience his rage.
Aemond is quick and messy with how his tongue laps up your wetness, creating lewd sounds that have both of your hearts racing. His fingers join his tongue, filling you up slightly and giving you the friction you need, but you know him, the only way you can come is on his cock.
You whine in agony as he leaves you aching for more as soon as he feels you getting closer, but he doesn’t leave you waiting for too long. The sound of his zipper brings back your attention to him, and he chuckles in delight when he sees you wiggling yourself back to get some friction, to end this torture and gives into the temptation.
And he does; he aligns his painfully hard cock with your soaked entrance, pushing himself in with one smooth thrust that knocks the breath out of your lungs.
Long is gone the man he was a few seconds ago; he is on a mission now, fucking you until you tremble and fall from the edge of bliss, knowing it’s him pleasuring you, it’s him who will burn this blasted city for you.
“Oh, sweet girl, I’ll kill thousands of men if it means I get to be inside this sweet pussy—fuck-“ he groans, hands finding home on your hipbones as he quickens his pace, driving his cock in and out. Hard and fast.
The squelching sound that your wetness is making embarrasses you, and you hide your face in your arms while you squeal his name over and over again.
Your Devil has grown like ivy around your heart, covering the last untouched part of your souls that he had left untouched, and you love it, love being consumed by him.
He bends down over your back, hips snapping into yours roughly, filling you up with his length as the thick tip of him kisses your cervix while his teeth sink into your bare shoulder.
“Do you see the lengths I would go to protect you, sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear, licking your tear away with the tip of his tongue, “I will commit unspeakable crimes just to have you by my side.”
You nod at him, looping your arm around his neck to bring him down, and he compiles, bending further on your back to kiss you roughly.
Both of you are close; the knot in your stomach gets unbearable until it snaps and you moan loudly in his mouth, gushing around him as your legs shake.
He follows closely; his cock throbs deep within your core, and with one final rough thrust, he empties his balls inside you, coating your velvety walls with his thick cum, marking you as his once more.
You glance back at the corpses, smiling devilishly at how Qoren Martell’s empty eyes are still on you.
“Sweet girl,” Aemond says, “you’re untouchable now. Targaryen clan is yours to rule.”
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Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!
One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!
That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~
~
It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.
This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?
According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.
He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.
Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.
You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"
Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.
That was definitely going to take some getting used to.
But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.
You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"
He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.
"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"
"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"
"The astral tadpole is still-"
"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."
There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.
He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.
But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.
You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.
But before all that... he had to know something.
The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."
He was just praying those future plans still involved him.
You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"
That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"
"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"
Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?
"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."
He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."
In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.
But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.
"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."
That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.
"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."
"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"
Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.
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katsukiizmoon · 8 months
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╰┈➤ ꒰🕸🍒 ┊IN THE CAR WASH | Katsuki Bakugou꒱
『♡』 18+, F!reader, handjob, blowjob, mild overstimulation, cum eating, established relationship, you put a finger in his ass 『♡』 aaah this was supposed to be a drabble in tumblr mobile but ended up being a little under 2k. Happy kinktober lmao. -> I was listening to this
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The car vibrates, music playing low in the background. Your hand under his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You hum and chew your bottom lip. Cool air blasts through the AC and onto you, he makes a turn and slows down to stop for a red light.
You hit skip on a song and Katsuki frowns a little, turning his head to the side and sticking his tongue out at you. Studs in his ears glisten and his skin glows with the presence of the sunlight.The cycle has a while to go with another two sides set to turn green before yours. A thick hand squeezes your palm as the large man to your left taps his foot to the beat. His lips move slightly as he mimics the words near silently, merely hushed.  
Taking in the image in front of you, you sigh. The black compression shirt highlights every muscle he has. Perked nipples press against the fabric as if they’re begging to be put on display. Your eyes trail down his body for a moment, tongue flicking out to wet pretty lips. Something thick like honey starts to settle in your veins and slowly it begins to cloud your thoughts. 
You bring his hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it and setting it down near the gear shift. He doesn’t pay any mind to it, too preoccupied with watching traffic and listening to music. Nimble fingers slowly reach toward his thigh to slide over the fabric there. 
Katsuki’s tapping stops. His mind halts momentarily, carmine eyes glancing down, before he taps to the rhythm again. A horn blares in the distance and the AC is no match for the way his body is beginning to heat. The faint smell of caramel seeps into your senses and sets you on fire. It makes you bold, whispers little things to you. 
But Katsuki? His mind races and goes over every possibility on the planet of what you have planned. It settles on something innocent. You’re just wanting to rest your hand there, he thinks. 
He is wrong. 
Your fingers trail little circles over dark fabric in repetition, while moving closer to his inner thigh. The music changes and you feel the need to wet your lips again. Katsuki begins to get cotton mouth but he swallows spit down to soothe it.
Don’t blame me, love made me crazy, if it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right. 
Katsuki thanks his lucky stars that the light turns green with a fuzzy mind. The bottom of his shoe presses on the pedal and the car begins to speed up. He tries not to think too much about your movements. But he his only a man, who’s slowly being put into a trance. 
Lord save me, my drug is my baby. I’ll be using for the rest of my life. 
He swallows again and presses a button on the steering wheel, murmuring lowly to the slowed down song. The blonde beside you seems to be unaffected in your eyes. That just won’t do. He feels your fingers move upwards toward his clothed cock that’s beginning to chub in his pants and lets out a deep sigh. It goes on like that for a while, you brush your palm over him a couple times and feign innocence. And he just keeps driving, seeming unaffected despite your best efforts. 
You glance over at him, his jaw is set and eyes narrow. Tension makes the air thick like the hardening length beneath his belt. You look back at the road, then lean to the side and begin unbuckling his belt. That makes him freeze. His body feels like it’s on fire. 
God knows he’s at your mercy. Forced to drive while you’re toying with him, playing him like a fucking fiddle. He doesn’t even remember where he’s supposed to be going anymore, at some point he just kept driving without thinking. He lets out a slow breath to settle himself when you unzip his pants. 
“Babe.” Katsuki grits, only to hear an innocent hmm? Sound in return. 
He’s going to start leaking soon, cock straining against his boxers. And your start palming lightly at it like the little minx you are. He spots a massive car wash that appears vacant out of the corner of his eye and flicks on the blinker. 
Your hand’s started rubbing and palming at him through his boxers. The head of his cock smears precum on the inside of them, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His hand shakes while turning the AC on full blast, desperate for something to cool him off. Glancing at the mirror, he merges over a few lanes and turns into the car wash. 
When the car pulls in, you remove your hand and blink a little. Katsuki wordlessly grabs his wallet from the center console and shoves his card in, picking the most expensive and extensive wash he can. 
“I thought we were going home..” Your brows furrow, looking around a little. 
“Nope.” He pops the “p” and pulls in before putting the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. His seat slides back a little to give him some leg room. Large sprayers begin to cover the car in foam and soap. The loud scrubbers going to work.
Katsuki tugs at the waistband of his boxers, setting his cock free. It springs up toward his tummy while slick substance dribbles from the tip of it. He gives it a little stroke as his head falls back, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip. His eyes are half lidded when he looks at you and grunts. 
“Get the fuck over here and suck.”  He reaches a hand under the side of his seat and leans the seat back a little more. You nod and unbuckle the seatbelt. 
Your fingers wrap around him and stroke in a wringing motion. His cock twitches in your hand and he pants. Heat spreads all over both of your bodies and the car wash is so loud you can only hear eachother. His breaths come out in short pants like he’s catching it. 
“Fuck, yeah, like that pretty.” His tanned jaw drops a little when your tongue lays flat against the head. 
You lap at the precum like it’s your favorite thing on the earth to taste. His fingers thread through your hair, tugging at the roots and pushing your head down. Katsuki resists every urge to buck up into your mouth the best he can despite the coil tightly winding in his tummy. But you’re doing so good.
Sucking him like a champ, slurping and making a mess. Spit dribbles down toward his balls but soaks into the waistband of  his boxers. And then you’re sinking down and humming, hand reaching down. He grabs at the side of the car door and braces himself. He can’t keep quiet, letting out long strings of groans and moans. The praise makes your pussy soak through your panties and you think about rubbing your clit for relief. 
“God, take it. Suck my cock, yeah, yeah, shit.” 
That’s all it takes to spur you on. You press a finger near his taint and watch his face scrunch. The car smells like his sweat and those stupid air refresher clips in the vents, leather seats becoming slippery from your fun. Your lips pop off him wetly and you look up to him with such pretty, doey eyes, that he almost cums then. His forearm veins peek out to play as the car door gets squeezed in a death grip. Your lips wrap around the head of his cock and you suck. Hard. Simultaneously you press the finger past the ring of muscle and up to a knuckle. Your hand strokes what you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to focus. 
And just like that the band snaps. Euphoria wracks his body and he fucks up into your mouth, head thrown back as he sings expletives and spills. It seeps from your lips, despite you trying to swallow it all down, but you use a tongue to swipe it up. 
“Oh god, god-” He whimpers out while riding out the high.
Katsuki feels like his entire body is strung high for a moment. His chest heaves and his fingers shake when you pull your mouth off him and give him a quick kiss.Your pussy is soaked and your clit throbs like it has a heartbeat of it own. Sweat has built at the back of his neck and his nipples stay perked. You glance at the lights in the carwash and see there’s still four other things left. Something about scent and bug shield— you don’t know, there’s suds of different colors all over the windows.
You swipe a thumb over his nipple while keeping a finger still in his ass. He whimpers at that and presses his lips into a thin line, gripping your arm so hard it might bruise if he squeezes any tighter. But you persist and stroke his cock with fever.
“I can’t, oh, god baby I can’t it’s-” Katsuki whines out and shakes. His voice goes up in pitch for a moment while desperately trying to hang on to his sanity. You tighten your fingers around him and start pressing the finger inside him upwards. 
His body spasms then goes completely still. Katsuki’s entire body is tight on a string, the only thing keeping him on this god forsaken earth being your pretty hands. Heaven wraps him up in a blanket and makes his chest wrack. Carmine eyes roll back, the hand that was once gripping your forearm now dragging nails down it. Your pussy clenches around nothing and the breath is knocked out of you in awe.
Hot white ropes spill all over your hand. You quickly move the finger out of his asshole and instead use it to anchor you on the seat while you suck the cum off of his cock. It twitches in your hand and mouth with sensitivity. You’re addicted to him, is reactions, his cum— like they’re a drug. 
Lust clouds your mind heavier than it possibly ever has when you look into his half lidded eyes. He’s swallowing your pretty little soul whole and making it a home, making it his. Cum dribbles off the corner of your lip and Katsuki leans forward to lick it off for you. 
His breathing slows and he tosses his head back with a breathy laugh. The car begins to be rinsed and you reach into the console for emergency wipes and toss one on his softening member. He cleans up with a wince and wipes some from your neck while you focus on your hands getting clean. 
“We should come here more.” Katsuki suggests wit a cheeky grin, brow raised and pants now buttoned again. 
“Absolutely. For now.. Let’s get home before I make you pay for another round and eat me out.” You buckle your seatbelt and roll your eyes with a snicker.
You look at him with a fire in your eyes and puffy lips. You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles again, this time linking your fingers together before he pulls out of the car wash and heads home.
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jyoongim · 2 months
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This isn't exactly a request but a thought that had been so heavy on my brain. Hellborn royalty reader x Alastor who's stronger than he is. I just can't stop thinking about it. Maybe even Goetia reader whew they are stronger and protect him from something and I just go FERAL at the thought.
Some background context:
The Ars Goetia are a royal dynasty of noble hellborn demons who serve as prophets, messengers, and observers of the mortal plane for the King of Hell. They are responsible for maintaining stability within the seven rings. They are highly knowledgeable in the heavens, society, and prophecies of all domains.
—————————————————————————————
The hotel was a wreck.
The Angels had made it their personal mission to eliminate those who resided in the hotel.
The Princess of Hell had acquired your assistance if things got shaky for them.
And OH things were shaking.
Alastor had took it upon himself to fight Adam, when you suggested you could of great help he turned you down. Stating that he would be able to handle the Angel himself.
But things were not looking good for the Radio Demon.
You admired the confidence he had, but the demon was in a sticky situation and you would be damned if anyone hurt YOUR demon.
You were fuming and it was showing.
You calmly walked through the fighting, every attack thrown your way didn’t even touch you as you quickly dispatched your attackers. 
You appeared in front of the injured deer in a cloud of smoke. 
“Hehe who the fuck are you?” Adam asked, but you ignored him as you checked on Alastor.
He was bleeding and weak, you placed your hands on his face, scowling softly “Oh Alastor my sweet. You did good my love but Ill take over from here” he tried to object, but with a wave of your hand, you dissolved him in mist to keep him safe.
You turned to Adam, who was smirking “Tch! You think you can take me? Ha! If your best couldn’t scratch me what thinks you can?”
You smiled, your body morphed into mist “who said he was our best?”
He attacked, swinging his axe and trying to bring it down on you. Your eyes glowed white and with a flick of the wrist he was frozen to the spot. You curled your fingers and watched as the Angel contorted in pain. You hissed “I am the judge and executioner and you, you arrogant pig have no authority here. Divine violence is my right for power belongs to those who take it.” At your words, the sky formed dark clouds and the realm shook.
Adam let out a scream as your magic crackled along his skin, searing pain riddling his body as you burned his wings and corrupted his every soul.
“YOU CANT DO THIS! I AM ADAM! THE FIRST MAN! YOU BITCH! NO NO NO NO!” Your mist enveloped his body and he slowly morphed to black as you took his life. You watched as his soul screeched and struggle. 
You pulled him towards him and smirked, sneering at him with sharp teeth
“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord” 
And with a soft blow from your lips, he dispersed. His soul crying as you sent him to Limbo.
Hell shook as your magic rocked the cosmos.
The remaining Angels let out a cry as they were struck with pain, felt in their soul.
You were sucking their power and in an attempt to save themselves they retreated back to Heaven.
You morphed back to normal and your misty shadows revealed Alastor to you.
You picked up the red demon and nudged him with your nose, he grumbled ”Y-You didn’t have to intervene. I had it under control”
You hummed, a soft smile on your face a his stubbornness “completely but I wasn’t going to stand around when you clearly needed my help.”
Your face dropped to a pout “don’t tell me that me being stronger hurts your pride? You should be honored. A woman willing to protect her love is a powerful thing to behold”
Alastor sighed, relaxing against you, feeling the exhaustion of the battle overtake him.
You cooed at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Don’t worry I don’t think anything less of you. I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting”
The Radio Demon might have been a prideful soul, but it was you who was the strongest.
And really…he was ok with that fact.
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postmortemnivis · 2 months
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spring was simon’s favourite season.
maybe because it meant rebirth, seeing the trees turn a vivid green again and the fields full of flowers and colours gave him hope. he loved to wake up and open his window in the early days of april, when the world was finally getting rid of the chilly morning breeze that always made him sick the first weeks of winter. every time he felt the air getting warmer, he couldn’t wait to change his heavy winter jacket into his windbreaker.
maybe it was because his birthday was in may, and despite not having celebrated it like he should’ve when he was a kid, he knew you would never forget to wake him up with a soft peck on the lips.
‘morning birthday boy.
if you asked him, he would tell you he liked spring better than summer because the weather was more enjoyable, not too hot yet not cold. spring’s light showers were his favourite noise to wake up to, after the one of the coffee maker he got you for christmas.
the real reason simon was so devoted to spring, almost as much as he was to you, were you. what did you expect from him?
he knew you probably couldn’t remember, but all those years back, you two met in early spring, after a particularly difficult winter.
simons life had been a deep, cold and dark winter for the past years. two, five, ten, who kept count anymore? his days would blend one into the other, seasons slowly turning into the next, he almost couldn’t tell the difference between august and february. seasonal depression was real, but somehow it lingered all around the year for him. that was before you.
you were the first shy sun ray that filtered through the clouds, quite literally. you, as fresh as the cold rain, and you heart, as warm as a late may afternoon, were all he needed to get out of his hibernation. you were what simon needed to wake up, the signal that spring and all beautiful things were on the way, that he needed to arise and get out of his hollow tree.
for the first time in years, simon’s eyes realized that spring was blooming everywhere around him, he was just too deep into his winter, blind, to notice; the flowers were blossoming, as beautiful as ever. he was grateful.
for you, for spring, for the sun finally caressing his face and skin and for your sweet kisses, each of them feeling like the first warm day after months of wind and snow.
“good morning, birthday boy.” you whispered as you kissed his lips.
simon squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them. he’d heard you get up, of course, the moment you started stirring in bed he was informed you were awake. you could try to keep the military out of the house, but the instincts followed him home, whether you liked it or not.
your bright smile was beaming at him, your hands on his bare broad chest as you sat on his hips, your thighs on either side of his waist.
“‘mornin’ beautiful.” he mumbled, resting a strong hand on your hip as he sat back, leaning against the headrest.
“breakfast’s in the kitchen,” you smiled, “i made coffee too.”
he hummed. “can smell it. i heard you too.”
you grinned.
“what’re grinning at?” he tiredly grinned back.
“want me to bring you breakfast in bed?” you said, “we can stay here in bed all day if you want to.”
he shook his head. “nah, love, i’m coming to the kitchen. i’ll be ready in a minute.”
you brought your lips to his again before getting off of him and caressing his cheek as you walked back to the kitchen, waiting for him.
his eyes followed your figure until you left the room, and he raised his gaze to the ceiling for a minute before shuffling his feet to the bathroom. he closed the door and stood in front of the sink, his hands on either side of the ceramic. his brown eyes, so dark they looked black, remained fixed on his reflection before he walked to the big window and opened the panes.
“simon?” you called. “baby, your coffee’s getting cold!”
his broad figure stood there, studying the nature outside. there was a small park in front of the flat, a little green heaven where mostly children went to play, he could hear from there the laughters and giggles. the trees, wild cherries and guelder rose followed the small street, their branches almost reaching the top floor where you lived.
“comin’ love.”
it was the middle of may, almost summer, and simon took a big breath of the fresh morning air before leaving the window open as he turned around and walked to the kitchen, right into his little piece of spring.
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sugurizz · 3 months
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(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)
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𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: '𝐉𝐨𝐨 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐕𝐒 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥' — The eventful match that could rewrite team BLACK’s history is nothing but a few hours away. But a sudden rush of adrenaline had his very assistant and physiotherapist Y/n acting out her own character. Unwillingly, her fiery lust unravels for the sadist athlete, leading to a torrid pre-match night.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: TOXIC! behaviour, dark content ahead!, explicit/ graphic content, power dynamics, authority, Dom/sub dynamics, masturbation (fem. receiving)/ blowjob/ unprotected/ vaginal sex, anal sex (rough), reader losing all sense of self-control and just wanting to be pounded STUPID, reader turning into a braindead romantic slut, heavy degradation, taunting/ teasing, rough/hardcore manhandling, pining/begging, heavy squirting, water stuff *Ahem* (just a hint, you’ve been warned :) ), creampie, reader clearly catching feelings throughout the whole thing.
𝐰.𝐜: 2,7k.
𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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'What brings you here?'
He stood in the entrance, his thick dark eyebrows frowned upon the almond-shaped eyes.
‘I said to meet me at 10, didn’t I?’
'Sorry, I know. I'm way ahead of our… meeting.'
He let you in with a low grunt − a strong eau sauvage cologne scent filling his hotel room made you already more sensitive…
————
You struggled to sleep the whole night. The pent-up anxiety combined with the anticipation for Jaekyung's fateful match twisted your stomach into a million knots. Time trickled by painfully, waiting on his phone call to finally have you over.
You waited in your room, eager and in heat. Your little fingers fiddled with your pussy for minutes that led to hours. You figured pleasuring yourself to the thought of him would cut it off and finally offer you some relief, but the burning arousal between your legs dripping through and through put your efforts to shame.
Becoming jaekyung's personal slut within the first week you two met each other got your little inexperienced body so used to his. Nothing else but his strong scent, his bulky weight, his suffocating heat and his rough touches satisfied your cravings anymore. And it showed every time you tried getting yourself off on your own.
Your visual memory turned into luscious eroticas of the handsome man, fogging-up with vivid shots of him choking you out, groping your ass like a pervert and whispering the filthiest insults into your neck. And so came the moment where your own legs took you to his room, nerve-burning lust already clouding over your brain −
————
'Oh,'
He opened the door and stepped closer to the door frame, height difference soaking your cunt instantly.
'Well…I don't feel like it now.'
He smirked and looked you up and down, the upwards curl on his rosy lips paired with his thick adam’s apple tempted you to suck on, peck and nibble.
You hated to feel so small and needy, but you were soaking through your thong. His thick cock is all you had in mind all day, and the ache between your legs persisted, if anything it got worse now that you saw him in his black sleeve, his stomach muscles still contracting from his pre-match training.
'And you didn't bother putting something less slutty than that? How lewd of you…' He pinched your left nipple over your thin shirt, 'You walked down the hallway with your nips perked out. And showed up to my door two hours prior…
Have you lost it?'
'But sir…Please, w-what does it matter if we did it a bit…sooner?'
'So we asking for it now, huh?' He raised a brow, 'I'm so used to your bitchy whines whenever I lay a finger on you,
He stepped forward, closing the distance between your bodies as his beautiful black eyes stared you down
's not like you at all to be so eager, doc.'
'P-Please fuck me! I’ll take all of you, promise!' Your voice softens, legs almost giving in from lust.
'How shameless. begging me to run a train on you in a hotel room' He crosses his arms over his chest, giving you a better view of the inked dragon on his forearm.
'Go play with yourself for me, yeah? Take your time till I hit you up.' He coos, leaning down to reach your head level.
'But it's…n-not working!' You protested, eyes filling up with tears. There was clearly no waiting further, your poor pussy begged you to touch Jaekyung and your brain rotted away, picturing him thrusting in every hole you had on repeat.
You took a couple steps forward and propped yourself on his bed, sliding your hand beneath your underwear. Back arching and head digging into the matress, you pulled your thong to the side, giving him a perfect shot of your bare ass and slickened folds. His brows furrowed, curious at a slutty doc slowly losing all her shame.
You brought your middle and ring finger to your lips and coated them in your spit, shamelessly staring dead into his eyes as he watched with crossed arms. You thrusted your fingers into your hole with a loud ‘Oh gosh-‘, no thoughts left in your mind to care.
His pheromones took over your brain the moment he opened his room door. Or so you chose to blame them for slowly corrupting you. You hated to see yourself begging him, but pride be damned! Your pussy acted on her own free will, and you weren’t about to hold her back no matter the reason.
'You need cock this fucking bad huh, Y/n?’ He sneers, eyes glued to the lewd sight you just offered him,
‘You’re dying to take it, hmm?'
‘Mr Joo, please c-come closer to me,
‘C-Can’t take it anymore, mr Joo…please’ Your fingers sped up the thrusts, slimy precum dribbling down your thighs ‘Fuck me till I squirt! It’s so much better when it’s your cock fucking me!’
'Remember how much you begged me tonight, doc…'
He yanked a fistful of your hair backwards, lining your face lower with his throbbing bulge.
'Get my big cock hard for me and I’ll see if I can be nice to you, would ya?'
You shoved your face into his crotch, breathing in his slightly tangy scent as much as your lungs could take, muffling your nose into his freshly shaven pubes. You whine deliberately, sending vibrations through his shaft and squichy balls. The slit on his cockhead drips more cum, spreading the slight saltiness over your tastebuds.
‘Hey, look at me’
He stuffed his thumb into your mouth, slapping his flushed tip on your lips as you you planted a wet kiss right on his cockhead.
The feverish desire to touch him drove you insane, swirling your tongue over his tip and twisting your little fists all over his veiny length. you splayed your palms on his abdomen, fingernails tracing his strong V-line and groping his large pelvis for leverage.
‘mmh need it so much…’ Your tongue flattened, gliding along his thickest vein, that one that makes you moan in pleasure every time Jaekyung stretches your tight uterus.
He groans and falls back onto the couch, spreading his legs wider as you deep-throated most of his fat cock. You smirked and wrapped your lips shut, feeling proud of yourself as his thick base finally made contact with your lips.
‘Mmmh…look at you, Team Black’s sweetheart. Acting all nice and coy while milking my cock dry’ He falters and throws his head back, grunting louder.
His thick, toned hips clenched upwards as you hollowed your cheeks, letting go with a wet pop. You pumped him up and down, lips pleasuring his warm, fat ballsack. You suckled his left nut and softly fondled the right one in your palm, smearing it with his overflowing precum.
His fingertips dug into your scalp, messing your locks up and bobbing your head on his length. A deep crease formed between his raven thick brows, his plump lips forming a cute o shape.
‘You’re leaking so much precum, mr Joo..’ You coo ‘You shame me for wanting you…while your balls feel so full and heavy in my mouth’ You smirk and gently massage your fingers into his warm balls, kissing them even slower.
‘look…I made you hard… just as you told me’
You bat your lashes and stare into his eyes, leaning your head on his thigh and stroking his cock next to your cheek. You pump him faster, your free hand caressing his stomach and hips.
‘Ngh…you’re loud tonight, doc’ He shoved your head deeper in, gagging you till the fat tears came out. ‘But guess I gotta keep my promises huh?’ The two large hands held your head still, squeezing your already soaked chin. Your tears blur the sight of his reddned cheeks, hiccuping from how much your throat squeezed on his cock.
He props his hands under your arms and lifts you up. Noticing the spot of your wetness on the carpet. Your pussy throbbed from Jaekyungs raw groans. A clear puddle of wetness formed under you cunt, getting bigger and stickier the whole time you sucked him off on your knees.
'Did you cum yet, miss Doc?' he smirks and whispers into your neck.
The faux empathy in his voice struck a nerve. You shook your head no in frustration and turned around to face him. ‘You p-promised to make me feel good too!’
You straddled his thigh, small hands groping his hard pecs.
‘I don’t wanna wait anymoore..’
'I wonder what would you do without me, miss y/n.' He flicked his tongue, grabbing your waist firmly and setting you spread on bed surface.
‘Where do you want me, doc? which hole of yours wants me more?’ He stood over you and gave himself a few pumps, hand wrapped on your hip.
‘Whatever hole you want, I just want you!’
‘Both are damn tiny to me’ the cocky smirk on his face never falters, throwing you over his bed and pulling you closer by your ankles.
He flips you over and pushes your face deep into his sheets, pulling your thin T-shirt over your head. The soft flesh of your breasts tingles, nipples all raw and sensitive from the friction. His full weight pours onto your back, both your skins sticking on each other.
‘Want them both fucked loose tonight? I’m feeling generous’
You spread your legs wide, taking him past your puffy lips. His fists pinned your wrists to the bed, pushing a low curse under his breath.
He folded your legs over your head, pressing firmly till he shaped you in a perfect mating press. You gasped and clawed at the sheets, feeling the harsh push of his thick cockhead. You felt that puffy vein again, frotting in and out of you as your clenching got worse.
‘Fuck…mr Joo..feels so good- so fucking good!’
His steady pressure got heavier, ridged sides of his girth restlessly bumping into your cervix, ripping some of the loudest moans from your mouth. You locked him between your arms, pressing down on his back to keep him closest to you.
Taking him deep inside you did feel good, but the warmth his body covered you in got you to a different high, one that had you almost confessing to him mid sex.
‘I l-like it, mr Joo…I like you a lot-
'You're a fucking mess today, aren't you?' He grasped your throat tighter, slapping both your cheeks. You jerked away from the stinging pain, mouth opening to shamelessly ask him for another one.
‘I-I want more, want you…mr Joo..so bad’
'Hey, You're fucking wasted, are you?' He spits on your pursed lips and smears it, large palm hitting across your tender cheek again.
His stirred breaths ran heavier. The steamy air between you and him barely found a way, your skins sticking flush on each other, only separating to come back together with loud ‘plap‘ noises.
‘Mghh mr Joo…I-I’m close’ Your nails traced along his chiseled back, ripping your first orgasm for the night. The spasms coursed through your body as you creamed a frothy ring at the base of his dick. The blurry sight of his raven eyes turned you hungrier, babbling pleas in the crook of his neck,
‘Don’t stop, Joo…I want m-more, much more…please-‘
‘Dropping formalities now? Don’t recall you being so friendly, gross girl’
Your pussy flutters at his insults, He swept you off the bed with ease, hooking his thick biceps around your legs. suspending you mid-air with his fingers buried in your asscheeks. He lifted you up to his chest level, holding your legs wide open to the full-size mirror covering the wall.
‘If you want more you better watch every damn second of it, miss Doc’ His pearly teeth showed a cheeky smirk, ‘We look so good in this position, don’t we?’ He chuckles and bucks his hips up, thrusting again with a deep groan.
'Too much…I don't think I can..keep up− mmh fuck!..' He picked his pace up, his bulky thighs slapping yours senseless. The Room filled up with the lewdest noises as you grew worried about strangers on the other side of the wall.
You slipped a trembling hand into his hair, his smooth undercut and soft supple neck felt so pleasant to touch. He’s achingly handsome, crimson lips almost inches from yours. You seized your chance quick and slammed his mouth on yours, suckling his tongue like the lovesick mess you are…
A lovesick mess you’ve for a while now. You did hate him…almost to death. His demeanor, his bold advances, his rude mannerisms and even his mere presence were unbearable to you at first. And yet you opened your eyes to the intimate sight of him inside you. A sight that got you obsessing over for weeks before this night.
Suddenly being his slutty stress reliever felt so good to you. And the more he took it out on you the weaker your self control ran.
‘brace yourself, I’m making you face me now’ He flipped you around over his torso with almost no effort, your little hands holding still onto his shoulder blades. Your breasts pressed tight against his hard pecs, giving you a mini heart attack. You lost yourself on his cock again, amourously blabbering some lovedrunk nonsense.
‘F-Fuck…c-can we do it more p-pleasee, my pussy feels so good, I l-like it when mr Joo does it-‘
You stared at Jaekyung, eye to eye level. His thick baby-like lashes and the glossy sweat glittering on his skin had you all soft and fuzzy. You got so shy your stomach turned, realizing the tiny distance separating you two..
‘Mmh…still fucking tight’ He pants and bumps your foreheads together, teeth clenching the moment he slides into your tiny asshole.
You dug your heels into his firm butt, pushing deeper from the thick intrusion. And so he responded, smacking your ass a couple more times just to hear a few more cries.
You’re just about high on Jaekyung, he’s everywhere near and close to you, overwhelming your senses and taking over your trembling frame. His delicious musk got stronger, not only from his just ended workout session, but from pounding into you with a beast-like pace.
‘Fuck fuck it hurts…s-slow down, mr Joo’
‘Shhh…you’ve been a pain in the ass lately, making demands and being a brat as you please’
He chomps your neck, finding a better angle to viciously prod your G-spot from behind. Your bladder almost crushed with his heavy shaft weighing on it for long hours.
‘Joo…I feel like..peeing, m-my tummy-‘ You dragged your nails down his back again, bouncing your ass up and down his dick.
'Make a mess then, piss, cum, squirt-' He licks your cheek and grunts, hips still slamming yours ‘I’m curious how more gross you could get tonight, nasty slut’
A furious heat rised to your face. His rough words fueled the wetness between your bruised thighs and squeezed your tiny butthole tighter.
'Aww…such a weak spot ya got for me, doc.' He huffed, his sharp jaw clenched tight. Your pussy clamped around the emptiness in shame, legs numbly dangling over his burly arms, and heart palpitating as you finally sprayed your juices all over his abdomen.
You gush more, covering is lower half in your essence, seconds before Jaekyung busts between you two. He keeps it up, milking you both to the last bit of your pleasures.
His warmth pours loads into you, shaping your pussy walls to fit his dick once more.
‘I liked it so so much…mr Joo felt s-so good’
You panted, the wild orgasm lagging on your little head. The following minutes you spent cradled in his arms, legs folded around his sides and head resting heavy on his chest.
He held you closer for a moment and and you didn’t miss another chance. you nervously planted your lips on his own, feeling them instantly push back on yours…
his short embrace stopped time, blocked all your senses and swelled your little heart with euphoria. You felt so complete, almost as if you had a…lover..
————
You woke up to a bold fraguance filling the room. The joint white covered beds surrounded you, soft and empty. And so felt your heart, fragile and addicted to the champion fighter.
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𝟐𝐤 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 −> 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒
𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 :)
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peachesofteal · 7 months
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Dead Disco / Chapter 9
Dead Disco masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ mdni no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nightmares, comfort, relationship issues and dynamics, established throuple. Emotional distress. Mention of medication. Angst. Darling is her/your own warning/tag. Eating related issues. Flashback heavy. Simon and Darling heavy. Simon struggles with the aftermath of his words.
Simon is having trouble keeping his eyes on the road.
He keeps looking in the rear-view mirror, holding his breath, hoping you’ll say something, answer one of Johnny’s questions, or look back at him for a second, even though the seconds tick away, and none of that happens. You keep your face pointed away from them, streetlights and headlights reflecting across your face, illuminating your grief filled gaze that’s transfixed on the world outside the window.
You’re far out of his reach now. Farther then when they came home and discovered you had left, farther then when he saw you in the doorway of your hotel room, exhausted, confused, free falling.
He had a good grip in those moments. Had a firm hand on the situation, could still read you, anticipate you, understand what was needed.
Now, he can feel that grip, that control, slipping away.
He clears his throat.
“Darling? Are you hungry, do you want to stop for something?” You don’t answer, still facing out the window, mind somewhere else, and Johnny shifts uneasily in the passenger seat, the spot you refused even though it’s your preference.
His phone vibrates in the center console, pulling his focus to where the screen is lit with a text from Price.
Let me know what you’re going to do. You’ve got more than enough leave saved. 
His stomach twists.
Simon jolts, trying to piece together where he is, where Johnny is, what’s happening, muscles instinctively tensing, legs and arms shifting his body into a weapon, something that can be used to defend, to fight-
He’s in his own bed. He’s in his own bed, at home, with Johnny...
and you. 
You’re shaking in your sleep, practically rattling between their bodies, face scrunched up in terror, panicked whimpers breaking from your throat. He recognizes it immediately, similar symptoms of the same affliction that sometimes plagues both himself and Johnny. 
You’re having a nightmare. 
His eyes adjust, taking in the dark of the room, the leak of light from the hall just barely illuminating the curve of your hip, Johnny’s chest and messy mohawk. 
Johnny had wanted you to stay the night so badly. Simon did too, but he didn’t want to push you as hard as Johnny was willing to, more agreeable to let you lead, let you decide what you did or did not want to do. 
But Johnny was so sweet on you, with you, convincing you to stay over even though in the past, you had been adamantly against it. 
Is this why? 
He scrounges in the dark for his mask, the black cotton one that he’s been wearing around you, sliding it over his face, loops behind his ears, before he hesitantly reaches towards your shivering form. 
“Darling.” He murmurs, bringing himself closer, boxing you in with his chest. If you have a bad reaction when you wake, he needs to be able to grab you, hold onto you. Keep you from hurting Johnny. “Shhh, hey, you’re alright.” He rubs your upper arm, firm pressure enough to keep you mostly still, leaning closer to say your name a few times, gently trying to rouse you without making it worse. He knows how it feels to come abruptly out of a nightmare, how it feels to wake up confused, frightened, unsure if you’re still dreaming, or still trapped in your own mind’s torment. 
He shakes you carefully, holding your shoulders firm, listening to your gasps turn into stronger breaths, your eyes flickering behind closed lids until they’re slowly peeling open, half clouded with sleep.   
“Ngh-“ you groan, blinking up at him, disorientated. You instantly tense, flinching away, and he keeps himself still, letting you come to consciousness slowly. 
“Shhh. You’re safe. It’s alright.” Your brow furrows, like you’re trying to piece together what’s happening, and he keeps his voice low, soothing. “You’re with us, at our flat. You stayed the night, remember?” He’s still rubbing your arm, working the contact, the connection, into your skin, trying to jog your hazy memories, keep you present. 
Realization snaps across your face, fear melting away into something else, something he knows well. 
Shame, and panic. 
“Oh my god.” You whisper, turning to look at Johnny. 
“Don’t worry, he’s a heavy sleeper, he-“ 
“I’m so sorry.” You blurt, sitting up, slipping yourself out from under his arm. “Did I- did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re no strangers to nightmares either.” He tries to calm you, ease you with the lighthearted comment. You shake your head, pausing, and then manage to slide down the bed, swinging your legs over the side to sit up. 
“I shouldn’t have… I- I shouldn’t be here.” You take short breaths, and he reaches for you, hand hovering over your shoulder. Johnny taught him that touch can be comfort after a nightmare, a lesson learned over too many nights spent waking in terror, choking on the feeling of dirt clogging his windpipe.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I-“ you trail off as you stand, stepping away from the bed, hands gripping each other, clenched together. 
“Darling, hey.” He follows, stepping closer into your space, your eyes wild and darting all over the room. Johnny mumbles behind him, and you wince, your mind working in overdrive, guilt and worry and fear trying to take over, drown you, work you up until it convinces you to run out the door. 
Something tugs at Simon. Something strong, heavy with emotion, with feeling, pulls at him, dragging him towards an inevitability, one that he’s been able to see coming since the first night they took you home, and he’s not going to let whatever is going on in your head right now take you away from them. Not when they've just found you. Not when he knows there could be so much more. 
“Look at me.” He drops his tone, sinking into the authoritative edge, the one you’ve responded so well to during sex. He’s pushing boundaries, pushing into unexplored territory, but he needs to control this situation before it destabilizes you, and he knows, instinctively, that he can reach you. If he tries. “Everything’s alright now, you’re okay.” He pulls your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of your knuckles, your head tipped back to stare at him, vulnerable as he’s ever seen. “There’s nothing to apologize for, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 
“What’s goin’ on-“ Johnny grunts, twisting in the bed to find where Simon is standing with you in the dark. He immediately goes on alert, back straightening, scanning the room for what’s happened, if there’s danger, if there’s a problem.
“It’s okay, she just had a nightmare.” Simon doesn’t take his eyes off you, your hands squeezing his like you’re afraid he might disappear. “She’s a bit rattled, is all.” There’s movement, Johnny getting up, stretching, before lumbering over to where you’re frozen to the floor. Simon releases one of your hands, motioning for his partner to stop. The gesture speaks volumes. 
I’ve got it. 
“Johnny, I think, some tea-“ 
“Rog.” He presses a kiss to Simon’s shoulder before heading for the kitchen, and you force a deep breath, still holding on tight, fingers gripped to his like iron. 
“Let’s lay down while we wait, yeah?” Simon instructs, turning your body back towards the bed, keeping his hands on you as he directs you between the sheets. The stiffness in your limbs starts to dissipate as he rubs your back, your neck, arms wrapped around you, holding you tight to his body. You fit there, right in the crook of his torso, his shoulder, and he presses you closer, mask covered mouth above your ear. “You’re safe with us. I’ve got you.”  
“What do ye mean, it’s not the right thing?” Johnny hisses, voice low. He casts a glance at the sunroom door, lips pressed together, jaw tight with disbelief.
“I was telling Price that the relationship is difficult, at times, that it can be hard on all of us, that it doesn’t feel fair, to her. It was a casual conversation, he was talkin' about his wife too. I said…” He trails off, frowning. “I said, I worry about it being the right thing.” Johnny shakes his head, incredulous.
“Well, that’s… that’s just bloody-“
“I was talking to Price as a friend. I didn’t know she was outside.”
“Ye shouldnae’ve been sayin’ anything to Price! Ye get on her for communicating poorly, but then ye go and do somethin’ like this.”
“I know.” Johnny’s still shaking his head, but there’s a note of fear to his voice now, panic, and Simon knows they’re thinking the same thing.
They could lose you. You could run. They just got you back. Just got you settled down. 
The consequences of his mistake loom on the horizon.
You’re going to shut down. 
“Ye need to fix this. Now.”
“Hey.” You whisper, peeking out from the blanket and Johnny’s arm, soft and hazy in the early sun’s light. He bends forward instantly, brushing his lips against your forehead, palm cradling your cheek, thumb stroking across your skin gently. Johnny’s snoring, oblivious, and he can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, leaning over to kiss his cheek too, running a few fingers through some unruly strands of mohawk. “How was the gym?” 
“Fine. How’d you two end up out here?” He motions to the couch, slipping off his trainers. 
“Couldn’t sleep after you left. Johnny said we should watch a movie, but he nodded off pretty quick.” The Black Cauldron is playing across the screen, one of your favorites, and you shrug your shoulders “He said I could pick.” 
“I said we were goin’ to sleep.” Johnny grunts awake, burying his face into your neck, blinking up over the mound of blankets and your hair at Simon. “C’mere.” 
“Gotta shower.” 
“No come on.” You whine. “Please?” You look so hopeful, and Johnny looks so sweet, he can't say no. He’s weak for it, for both of you, settling himself between Johnny and the couch, shifting your weight so that you’re laying across the two of them, still curled up in the blankets. Johnny’s face is blissfully slack, still half asleep, and he wonders if he can get you back to sleep too. 
“Feel like closin’ your eyes?” He whispers, and you shrug. “We went to bed pretty late last night darling, and you hardly slept the night before.” You make a face, and then try to burrow deeper into the blankets, hiding your eyes from his. 
“’m not really tired.” 
“Did you take your meds this morning?” Johnny cracks an eye open, watching where you squirm under the scrutiny. 
“No…” you pout. Simon looks to Johnny, who gives him a swift nod of acknowledgment. Neither of them have to speak. 
“Alright.” The blankets move, Johnny arranging you so you’re completely in Simon’s arms. “I’ll get them for ye, okay? How about some toast?” He’s the one leaning over now, looking down at you, hand gently cupping your face. You nod reluctantly, and he rewards you with a proud kiss, short and sweet, before turning away for the kitchen.
 “We don’t shut each other out.” Simon implores, listening to the sound of you moving around behind the locked door. “You know that. We need to talk about what you heard, I need-“
“I don’t want to talk.” You yell, and Johnny winces, Simon thunking his forehead against the wood, defeated, worry tying his stomach in another knot.
“Darling, please. Talk tae us. Let Si explain-“ The door swings wide with a jolt, surprising both of them, nearly sending Simon careening forward until he catches himself.
“I don’t want to talk.” You repeat, slowly. Your face is blank, concerningly so, hands already holding two paintbrushes. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. I’m fine, I just… I want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”
“You’re not fine. It’s okay to be upset, to be angry, you have every right to be. But I can’t let-“
“You can’t let what?” You’re eerily composed, nearly void of the storm that he was expecting, and it’s absence makes him worry even more.
“Let you shut down and ignore us when we need to talk.”
“Why don’t you two talk to each other instead? Since you have so many opinions about what the right thing is. And we all know, what Simon says goes so-“
“No, darling. Stop.” Your mouth snaps shut, outraged, but it fizzles out quickly, and your shoulders slump.
“I’m not doing this.” You rebuff him, swinging the door shut to the sunroom, the art room, and locking it. Johnny covers his face with his hands, and Simon bristles, the overwhelming guilt practically jeering at him, blaming him, reassuring him that this is all his fault.
“’m go get started on dinner.” Johnny grinds out, glum, shooting him a pleading glance before he turns away. Do something, it says. Please.
“She hasn’t answered.” Simon glances at the clock. 
“She has a life, Johnny, and a job. Do you expect her to drop everything, every time we text her in the middle of night? It’s not like she can plan for it.” 
“Ah know but… it’s been all day. She usually at least responds.” He can’t argue there. You do always text them back, even if it takes a little while. If they get home in the early hours of the morning, you’ll usually respond when you wake. 
That didn’t happen this time. 
“Maybe we should call.” Johnny hedges, restless, pacing, overanalyzing the last time they saw you, and the text message they sent earlier. Simon takes a breath, stepping forward to pull him into his arms. 
“I know you miss her.” He doesn’t say it out loud, but he misses you too, and you’re not even theirs yet. “I don’t want us to be too overbearing. We can’t… we’re trying to treat it like a relationship, but we haven’t even had the conversation yet.” He only just showed you his face, before this last op, and that was almost two weeks ago, at this point. 
“But we will. We are. We said we are.” Johnny protests, half panicked. 
“We are.” Simon agrees, soothing him. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to call, I just don’t want you to be disappointed, if she doesn’t answer.” He tries to temper the younger man’s expectation, hoping that they won’t be left heartbroken if there’s still silence on your end. He wants to see you as much as Johnny does, but he’s cautious about encroaching on your boundaries, upsetting your equilibrium. Too much, too fast, could do more harm than good. 
The phone starts to ring, on speaker, and Johnny chews on his bottom lip, hand rubbing through his mohawk anxiously as it goes to two, then three rings. Simon sighs on the fourth, about to tell Johnny not to stress, when the line clicks open. 
“Hello?” It’s you, but you sound… different. Your voice is scratchy, and thin, almost watery. 
“Hey, darling.” Johnny coos. “Just wanted to give ye a call, see what’s goin’ on?” 
“Hi, I- uh. Sorry, I meant to text you back I just… fell asleep.” Simon frowns, and a warning bell goes off in the back of his head. 
“Are you sick?” He asks, and you take a breath, blowing it out sharply. 
“No, um… well, maybe. I’m out sick from work today. I’ve just been really low energy, not feeling great.” 
“Do ye need us to come over? Have ye eaten?” 
“I’m not that hungry, I’ve just been in bed.” 
“Can we come by? Check in on you?” Simon keeps his voice light and controlled, but worry is crawling up his spine now, pieces clicking together in his mind, painting a picture that’s been all too glaringly obvious. 
“Um, if you want? I’m not really doing anything. I don’t really feel up for… you know. I won’t be much fun for you guys.” You try to joke, and Johnny grimaces. 
“We just want to see ye, darling. We dinnae care about that.” He assures you sweetly, and Simon is already shrugging on his hoodie, looking for his shoes, calling out to the phone from across the room. 
“We’re on our way.” 
“I can’t fix it if you won’t let me in.” He says through the door. He doesn’t know for sure if you’re listening, but he has a good feeling that every time he opens his mouth, you probably pause, head inclined to where he sits outside the room. He can see it, paintbrush in your fingers, mouth slightly ajar as you consider his words.
And then go right back to ignoring him.
Occasionally, over the last hour, he’s heard things here and there, soft murmurs to yourself, the opening of moving boxes, bunching of the tape that had been holding them together. You even came out for water, filling your pitcher in the kitchen in silence, ignoring Johnny’s honeyed and gentle attempts to get you to talk to him. You refused to acknowledge him until he was pressing your water bottle into your free hand, which you accepted with a sigh, shoulders slumped and face completely morose.
You didn’t even look at Simon on your way out, or in, opting to ignore his presence entirely.
His back is a little sore from sitting straight up against the door, and he stretches, bringing his arms over his head to work his neck out. He’s trying to resist the urge to pull the key down from the top of the frame and open the door, something he could easily do, if he had the gall. He’ll let this go on, for a while, until he can’t stand it anymore, until he starts to become too worried. Until the sick feeling in his stomach becomes too much, and he’s forcing you to talk to him. To give him a chance to at least explain.
“Dinner’s ready.” Johnny interrupts his thoughts, holding out his hand to pull him to his feet. “Darling, do you want something to eat? I made chicken soup.” He offers, but there’s no response, and Simon tries to knock for good measure.
“You have to eat.” He murmurs, hand flat against the wood grain. “You know that.”
“’m not hungry.” You’re just on the other side, so close that he can see the shadow of your feet, can practically the feel the vibration of your voice through the door.
“Please, open the door. I need-“ His knees suddenly feel weak, and he’s desperate to just lay eyes on you, to prove to himself that you’re alright, that you’re here, with them. He pleads softly, tidal wave of emotion rising through his body, Johnny’s warm hand on his back between his shoulder blades. “I need to see you.”
845 notes · View notes
berryhobii · 11 months
Text
Late For Work (jjk x reader)
Pairing: Husband!Jeon Jungkook x black!female!reader
Word Count: 2,223
Warnings: established relationship(they’re married!), fluff, domestic vibes, Jungkook’s a house husband, tattooed!Jungkook, smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), morning sex, somnophilia I guess? He wakes reader up with head. Kitchen sex, oral(m and f receiving), deepthroating, throat fucking, lots of spit, reader’s a whiny and needy sl*t, Jungkook is obsessed with reader(in a sweet way), begging, overstimulation, interrupting phone cliche
A/N: Hi! I’m back! I know I said this would be a Gamer!Jungkook but I kind of went off script a little, heh. There will definitely be a part 2 of this though and there will be actual Gamer JK in that. I didn’t really describe the reader in this so imagine them as you like. Criticism is always welcomed and I hope you enjoy!
~
When you woke up, it was to him between your legs, slurping up all of your wetness and flicking his tongue against your swollen clit. He managed to wrench 3 orgasms out of you before your alarm rang, that stupid job calling for your attention. Thank goodness you were close to going on vacation. After that, you could spend some much needed quality time with your husband.
He helped you to the bathroom, your legs feeling weak from your orgasms that were still vibrating through your body. Once you showered, did your skincare, and refreshed your hair, you found him in the kitchen, back turned to you as he sliced something on a cutting board.
Bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, your hungry eyes greedily took in the expanse of his bare, muscled back. Each movement caused his muscles to flex, the dark and brightly colored tattoos that stretched across his back shifting. He had recently finished the healing process for his brand new back tattoos—a large dragon spread across his shoulder blades, multiple flowers of different colors wrapped around his ribs, and your favorites were the abundance of clouds with butterflies resting on them. He had lots of little others like that cute smiley face on the back of his neck and that Minnie mouse bow on the back of his right arm he got on a dare after losing to Taehyung. You remember when he came home with it. You had laughed for close to 10 minutes, much to Jungkook’s chargin, his pout never leaving until he got annoyed and bent you over the couch. You still giggled but his cock taught you manners.
He heard you place your purse down on the kitchen island, turning his head to look at you.
“Breakfast is almost ready.”
You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning in to inhale his shampoo. Your cheek rubbed against his soft skin, humming when he relaxed in your embrace.
“Morning head and breakfast? Are you married?”
He chuckled, reaching for another strawberry to slice. “I am. Very happily for 3 years. They’re the love of my life.”
“Sounds like a very lucky person.”
While you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was smiling extra big.
“Eh. They hog all the blankets and can’t sleep unless it’s freezing cold but I guess they’re lucky to have me.”
You rolled your eyes, biting his shoulder blade. He was such a dork.
“They bite me a lot too. I wonder if I’m tasty.”
Your hands began to wander, scratching down his chest and abs until you reached the band of his low sweats. You dipped into the article of clothing, a noise of surprise vibrating your throat when you found he wasn’t wearing underwear.
Your hand grabbed at his half hard cock, beginning to pump him slowly. He inhaled a sharp breath, dropping the knife he held in the sink. Safety first and all that.
His hands gripped at the counter, head dipping low as you stroked him to hardness. When his sweats began to get uncomfortable, he moaned.
“Baby….”
You hummed, pulling away from him to let him turn around. Now that he was facing you, you could appreciate him fully—from his broad chest to his smooth expanse of his defined stomach. Your eyes trailed up to meet his, dark irises staring at you. His gaze made you feel warm all over, those earlier orgasms feeling far away. You wanted more.
Dropping to your knees before him, you grabbed at his sweats before pulling them down. His cock sprang up, the tip leaking precum. You licked your lips, gaze greedy and your throat itching to have him nestled in it.
You gripped him once again, feeling him throb in your hold. Locking eyes with him, you leaned forward to lick at his tip.
“You’re delicious.”
Your stare never broke as you licked him from base to tip. Eye contact was the quickest way to get him to cum. You too. It just made your sex feel more intimate and connected. It also fueled his ego a little to watch your sultry eyes stare up at him as he was down your throat.
After you had slicked him up enough, your hand pumped at him as your mouth sucked at his balls—his most sensitive spot. He tossed his head back, leaning against the counter, a loud moan coming from him.
Gathering saliva in your mouth, you bubbled spit all over his balls. He loved it wet and messy, something you learned after your first few times together. He was always a gentleman during your first times but that quickly changed when you started getting more and more comfortable with him. Your pussy would get so wet and sticky that he couldn’t hold back.
Coming back to his cock, you kissed along his shaft, trailing spit with you, cheeks and chin wet. You took him into your mouth, sucking him halfway in, your hand pumping what you hadn’t gotten to…..yet.
Your tongue licked all around him, cheeks hollowing as you sucked him. His hand grabbed at your hand, hips bucking into your throat. You removed your hand from his cock, instead gripping his thighs, giving him the okay to go hard.
Using his other hand to grab the back of your neck, he began moving his hips in and out of your mouth. You relaxed your throat, allowing him to slip in and out with ease.
“You like that cock in your throat, baby?” His raspy voice talked down at you. You moaned around his cock because fuck yes you did. You could feel your panties sticking to you, the fabric probably ruined beyond rescue.
He pushed your head all the way down, holding you there, nose buried in the hair at the base of his cock. Tears sprang in your eyes, throat constricting around him. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving red marks in your wake.
When you began to sputter and gag on him, he let you go. You inhaled a deep breath, coughing and trying to pull air back into your lungs. Your bleary eyes looked back up at him, your hand coming to pump at his slick cock again. Sweat dripped down his chest and stuck his hair to his forehead. He looked good enough to eat.
“Give me more, baby.” Tongue hanging out of your mouth, you were ready to take everything he gave you.
Fuck.
A few more pumps of your hand and harsh suck to his tip and he was cumming in your mouth, filling your cheeks. He shivered as his orgasm racked him, mouth dropping open in a silent moan.
You didn’t immediately swallow, letting him regain his breath. You patiently sat back on your heels, bright eyes staring up at him.
His hand reached out to grab your chin, tilting your head up. “Open.”
You obliged, dropping your jaw to show him his release in your mouth. He felt his cock jump at the sight. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“Swallow.”
And you did, opening your mouth again to show him you had obeyed.
He helped you up from the ground, grabbing under your thighs to lift you and place you on the kitchen island. His lips hungrily moved against yours, his hands pushing your pencil skirt up until he could access your thong. His warm hands grabbed both sides of the thin string, giving it one harsh pull and it snapped. He worked at the buttons of your blouse next, careful not to pop any of them in his haste but truthfully, he could care less. Once it was open, he pulled down the cups of your bra, letting your breasts spill out.
You moaned as his hands pinched at your nipples, little sparks going up your back. He pulled away from your mouth, a whine coming from you but it was quickly covered when his mouth sucked in your left nipple. Your hands buried in his hair, humming as he worked both of your nipples to stiff peaks. He bit at the skin of your breasts, further darkening the hickies he placed there just last night. Once he was satisfied with his work, he pulled away to kiss you again.
“Fuck me, baby. Please. I can’t wait anymore.” You were starting to grow more and more desperate. Those orgasms from earlier just weren’t enough. You needed his cock right now.
He smirked at your whiny tone. His cock was hard again, throbbing to be nestled in your warm and tight walls but he had more pressing matters to tend to.
Pecking your lips once more, he bent down slightly until he was level with your pussy. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart to get more access to your dripping heat. You barely had time to balance yourself on your hands before he was diving in, eating you out like a man starved. His tongue licked and sucked at your clit, abusing the swollen bud until your legs were shaking.
His eyes looked at you from between your legs and goodness were you a sight to see. The way your mouth dropped open, your breasts all marked up, and your watery eyes threatening to spill. He could eat you out for hours, not even stopping when you were crying and begging for him to let you rest.
You didn’t even realize how desperate and close you were until that band was snapping and you were cumming all over his face. One of your hands buried in hair, pulling him closer as your head fell back. Your toes dug into his shoulders, almost pushing him away but he remained firm, delivering licks to your clit.
Once you were shaking in overstimulation, he pulled away, licking his lips of your sweet juices.
He stood back to his full height, pulling you closer until your hips hung off the edge of the counter. You felt his cock rub against your sensitive pussy, flinching away a little at the almost painful feeling. But you were so desperate for him that you didn’t care. You just wanted his cock inside you. Now.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him to you again. Tears fell down your cheeks, bottom lip wobbling. “P-please….no more teasing…”
He could hold himself back anymore either. He pecked your temple, hands digging into the nest of your thighs. “Okay, princess.”
The head of his cock rubbed against your slick folds, bumping your clit a few times making you shiver.
Just as he was about to push in, the loud blaring of your phone broke you apart. Realization struck you, your eyes widening.
“Oh shit! My meeting! I’m late!” You hastily reached for your purse, digging in it until you found your phone. You quickly answered it, apologies falling from your lips.
After you hung up, Jungkook helped you from the island, your legs buckling but he held you up.
You sighed, leaning against his sweaty chest. “Ugh, darn you and your magnetic dick. Why did you distract me?”
He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You stuck your hand down my pants. You started this.”
You growled, biting his pec lightly. “You woke me up. You started this.”
He harshly gripped both of your ass cheeks in his hands. “Do you want me to finish it?” His suggestive tone matched his eyes, his stare sending shocks straight to your pussy. Was that meeting really important? You could just quit your job and live your days with Jungkook’s cock down your throat. You’d clock in faithfully every day.
You whined, pushing him away. “I’m already late. Stop tempting me.”
He gave you that cheeky smile again but let you go, making sure to deliver a slap to your ass as you walked away.
Once you had brushed your teeth again and fixed your makeup and hair, you rushed to the door. Jungkook was already waiting for you with a bagel and your lunch bag. Your heart warmed at the sight of him. He took such good care of you. An idea of a surprise date swirled in your head.
You smiled when your eyes met.
“Here. I packed your lunch and since breakfast got cold, I made you a bagel. Eat the whole thing.”
You walked into his arms, hugging him tightly, his warmth sinking into your skin. “I love you.”
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you more.”
After embracing for a moment longer, you reluctantly pulled away, not wanting to leave him but you knew you had to work.
He kissed away your pout. “I’ll be here when you come back. I promise.”
You sighed but nodded, expecting a final kiss before you finally walked out of the door but instead, his hand grabbed your throat to pull you closer. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes widening as they locked with his. His smile had dropped, only a mischievous smirk left in its wake.
“And when you come back, I’ll fuck you on every surface in this apartment.”
Your thighs rubbed against each other, excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were about to say something but you were silenced when he shoved the bagel in your mouth
“Have a good day at work.”
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luveline · 5 months
Note
hi love. if you’re taking any requests could i request rockstar!sirius, or sirius in general, like the start of the relationship when everything is cute funny but they're still not a Couple
rockstar!sirius takes you on a date ♡ fem, 1.2k
“If you're here to antagonise me, you can just go home, Sirius,” you warn. 
Sirius Black gives you a dastardly grin, sliding into the seat across from you in a cloud of expensive cologne and hairspray. You're ashamed to say he smells nice, if a little sharp. 
“Hair explosion?” you ask. 
“You're very, very cruel to me, angel. I shouldn't call you that.” The toe of his converse hits yours. He leans forward, covering the pages of your novel with a hand adorned in silver jewellery. “It's no longer accurate.” 
“So mean,” you sigh, imbuing it with as much gutted patheticness as possible.
“Hey, I'm kidding.” He pushed his foot between yours. “How long have you been here? Did you wait long?” 
You close your book, put it flat out of reach, and fix him with a genuine smile. “No, not long.” 
Sirius leans over to kiss your cheek. You'll feel it for the next half an hour, a tingling, crescent moon of contact. “Well, good. Should we go and order? Know what you want?” He shakes his head. “I know what you want. Stay here.” 
He pops up and away as quick as he'd arrived. You panic. Cool and collected you may have seemed, but internally you're a storm of nerves, hands shaking ever so slightly as you take the compact mirror from your pocket and check over your features. You're worried you look like you've tried as hard as you have, all your complicated skincare and makeup, sheer shimmers and invisible concealer.  
Sirius met you without a lick of makeup and he still acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread. You remember it all in vivid detail, the way he'd looked at you, the double-take, the subsequent flirting. Sirius doesn't neg, but it was hard at first to know if he was being real with you. And what, he'd drawled, unblinking, dark lashes and kohl rings emphasised by his stillness, is a thing like you doing in a place like this? 
Thing? you'd asked softly, confused and intimidated by his attention. You'd recognised him immediately. 
Girl, he'd corrected himself. Then, with a strange smile, Angel. You're an angel, huh? Must be.
It wasn't some world-bending line but it didn't need to be, his demeanour did the hard work for him. And his appearance didn't hurt. 
Even now as he walks back towards you, your heart skips a quick beat. He looks more casual than he has the last few times he's seen you, a leather jacket swapped for ragged black denim, and tight pants replaced with jeans that hug his thighs. You can't believe a thing like him would ever be interested in you, but he most assuredly is. 
“Here,” he says, putting a drink down in front of you, and again leaning down to kiss your other cheek. “You look so pretty.” He says it like it’s nothing, doesn't cost him a thing, not a shred of doubt nor bravery. Then he adds, “You're fucking perfect. Can't believe you walk around like this for free.” 
“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pushing him away. You can't bring yourself to be mean about it. Sirius hasn't ever been mean to you, not once, despite the things people have told you since you met. Be careful with that one. Guys like him want one thing. 
After three dates and two evenings spent watching films together on his ragtag sofa (and enjoying the laziest, softest kisses a girl may ever have been given), you've yet to find out what he wants. To adore you, apparently. 
He runs his pinky down your cheek and under your chin. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. 
You lift your chin invitingly. 
Sirius laughs into your lips, suddenly kissing you, close and heavy-handed. You rise off of your seat to meet him, only an inch or so but enough to pull a deep sound from the back of his throat. You've never been kissed like this; his hand is steady on your cheek, reluctant to let you go, and he presses down hard with his lips. Nearly too much, never quite there. He rounds it out with a softer one and pulls back to gaze at you fondly. 
“I missed you,” he says, sneaking back in to kiss the slight curve of your laugh line. “Not cool, this whole sleeping at your own flat business.” 
He isn't your boyfriend, yet. Hasn't asked. So he isn't staying at yours nor you at his. But he has to ask soon, right? Who kisses people like that without intentions of some sort of commitment? 
Rockstars, your brain supplies cruelly. Infamous players. 
“Well, where else would I be staying?” you ask as he sits back in his seat. 
“Good question, beautiful.” He ignores it, anyhow. “I've ordered a few too many things. Don't be mad.” 
“I won't be.” You take your purse from your coat. “So long as it doesn't cost more than sixty two pounds and eight p, that is.” 
“Shut up, as if you're paying. You're fucking childish–” 
“You're childish, I'm trying to keep things fair and you won't let me!” 
“Quite right. Look at the state of you,” he says, eyes roving across your face pleasantly, “you think you deserve to pay for dinner? No. I asked you, and I've ordered, and it'll cost a bit more than what you have anyways.” He drops the act just enough to see a sliver of doubt. “Please, let me take care of it. I want to buy you dinner, sweetheart. It's the least I want to do for you.” 
You look at him through your lashes, face angled down at the ebony wooden table. “Yeah, alright. I don't mind.” 
“Good, because you didn't really have a choice. How can I expect you to say yes if I don't pay for dinner first?” 
“Say yes to what?” you ask, frowning gently. He's confused you. 
Sirius offers both hands across the table. You place yours softly in his, letting him brush the pads of his thumbs against your knuckles. 
“To being official,” he says, a hopeful smile playing on his lovely mouth. “What do you think? Is it too soon to ask?” 
You shake your head minutely. 
He drops his head a little, meeting your eyes. “Do you want to be together?” 
“I'll be your girlfriend?” you confirm. 
“Do you want to be?” His lips part but he doesn't add anything more, though he might want to. You understand that vulnerability won't be instantaneous between you both. You can wait. If this is even a hint of the man he is, you want to be together more than anything. 
You nod, forcing your smile into a line that soon wobbles. 
He leans across the table for another kiss. This one chaste. Perfect. 
“Thank you,” he says. When he sits back, he's practically glowing with smugness. “Fuck. I thought that would be harder.” 
“I can make it worse for you if you want to ask me again."
“Would you? Let's take it from the top, angel. I didn't suffer half as much as I should've.” 
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moralesluvr · 1 year
Text
CIGARETTES & STRAWBERRIES | H. BROWN
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♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x soft/innocent!fem!black!reader ♡ summary: you smoke with hobie for the first time <3 ♡ warnings: hobie teasing the reader, smoking (it isn't even cigarettes LOL) ♡ a/n: just a lil blurb, requests are open! ♡ got a request? | masterlist in the works! ♡
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YOU FEEL HOBIE SHIFT underneath the covers, his arm that was formerly wrapped around your waist leaving you to pick up the thick blunt that lay on the pillow beside you.
"'Scuse m, love," He murmured sheepishly, his idle hand resting on your upper thigh, nearly touching your bottom.
You watched closely as he brought the thick joint up to his lips, his dark eyelashes batting closed as he inhaled the sweet smoke. You thought it slightly reeked, but you liked that it calmed him down and if he liked it-- you did too.
He smiles when he notices you watching him, a white cloud of smoke passing the confinement of his pearly whites. Your hand whiffs away the smoke as you perk up, "Hobie...right in my face, really?
"Sorry doll," Hobie smirks, his fingertips grazing over the curve of your bottom. One of your legs was propped up against his upper thigh as you laid on his chest, the other laying straight over his legs.
Meanwhile, while your boyfriend smokes, and tries to purposely blow it in your face to annoy you, you're eating strawberries out of a bowl on your dresser and humming along to the soft music that's playing through your speakers. You whisper the lyrics to 'Is It a Crime' by Sade as you bite into another strawberry, your lips tinted red from how many you've eaten.
Hobie's hand snakes up to underneath your chin to peck you on the lips softly. He tastes of weed and salt and a little strawberry from when you fed him one earlier. He smirks into the kiss, breaking it, "You taste real sweet."
"Strawberry." You chuckle as you watch Hobie intensively take several more drags. It takes him nearly forever to get high, which you find astonishing because you know that within one hit, you'd be out of it.
"Is there any particular reason why you're starin', doll?" He asked you, his eyes traveling to yours, maintaining eye contact as his lips formed an 'O', an obedient and perfect circle of smoke leaving his lips. You snuggle into his chest, "No reason...I just was thinking...if I could...maybe try some? Just one hit, I'm not trying to get high or anything..." You murmured nervously.
Hobie caresses your cheek with a bejeweled hand, "Yeah? Wanna try some?"
You nod.
"Look at me," He instructs, and you oblige, looking up at him sweetly with doe-y eyes. He brings the blunt up to your lips, "You're gonna put your lips on it, like this"-- he demonstrates, "And jus' breathe in, like you're suckin' through a straw. Try it."
You expect him to let go of the blunt and let you hold it, but to your surprise, he keeps his fingers on it and his eyes on you as you inhale sharply, yet slowly. It burns a little when it hits the back of your throat, your whole chest convulsing as you struggle not to cough.
Hobie giggles, "You okay, love?"
"Yeah..I'm fine," you swallow thickly, "My brain just feels soft."
Your boyfriend hums at your statement, "Lightweight."
"Am not! You protest, hitting his chest lightly.
Hobie laughs to himself as he turns the blunt around for himself to hit, smirking when he notices your brown lip liner and pink lipstick that left a stain on the tip. He coos at you, "You're so pretty."
You blink slowly at him, the weed slowly getting to you. Although you didn't want to admit it, he was right-- you were a bit of a lightweight. You felt yourself grow sleepy as you rested your head on his chest, "I love you."
You feel his lips connect with your forehead, "Love you more, my strawberry."
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wynnyfryd · 6 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 25
part 1 | part 24 | ao3
cw: throwing up, recreational alcohol & drug use
“Well, thank fuck I didn’t wear the Reeboks,” Eddie laughs.
Steve groans 'Jesus,' because he doesn't know what else there is to say to that. Eddie came out of nowhere. Materialized like some kind of freaky wizard. And that would— that would be on brand, wouldn’t it?
Eddie the magician. Eddie the shapeshifter.
Maybe Eddie is Misty? Would explain why she left him all those dead rats when he first—
“Oh, fuck.” His stomach rolls at the thought, a hot-cold-nasty-sick shiver down his spine, and he bends forward to retch again. Hits the grass this time at least, right between Eddie’s boots; groans and spits drool into the dirt. Eddie smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, which is nice, even if everything else about this totally blows.
“Godddd,” he moans when the dry heaving stops. He lifts his head to apologize and nearly tips himself into the mess he just made.
“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey; easy,” Eddie shushes, steadying him with both hands. Warm palms against his biceps; firm grip.
“S’nice.”
“Yeah?” Eddie grins, private and soft. "Alright, arms up."
"Mmh?"
"Up! Come on, sweetheart, up you get." He loops Steve’s arms around his neck, wearing him like a cape. Steve giggles into his fluffy curls, nuzzles his nose into them because they're warm and Eddie smells nice, and time does that weird drunk thing where Steve slow blinks and suddenly they're a hundred yards away.
Edge of the creek, downstream from the falls where the water’s just a thin squiggle cut through smooth, mossy stone. Eddie's got Steve facedown across his lap, gathering up his hair and making a headband with his hands, and he's apologizing in advance for Steve-doesn't-know-what.
"Big breath," Eddie warns him, and then he dips Steve's face in the icy stream like he's battering fried chicken in a goddamn egg wash. Two quick dunks, the cold ripping through Steve's nerves; it's all finger-licking fucked.
"What the hell?!" Steve splutters when Eddie lifts him up, rolls him onto his back and smiles down at him.
"Mornin', sunshine!"
"Jesus Christ!"
Eddie's laughing at him hard. "Sorry, big boy. Had to wake you up somehow."
He brushes Steve's bangs off his face, and Steve pants up at him, wide awake now. Trembling. In the dark, Eddie's eyes look nearly black. Two inkpots full of moonlight.
“'M awake," Steve mumbles to distract himself from the sudden kick-throb behind his ribs. "Sorry I barfed on your shoes."
“Ah, comes with the territory.” Eddie kicks his legs out, rinsing the toes of his boots off in the stream. “Drug dealer, remember? Seen a lot worse than this at parties, sweetheart, I can promise you that."
Steve blinks at him. Still feels syrupy and slow like he's wading through mud. Sweetheart. The word's a fog machine in his mind. Hazy warmth; candy clouds. "If... If you're a drug dealer, then... should've woken me up with drugs."
"Oh?"
"Mhmm. Jus' rude not to, really."
Eddie's lips quirk. His eyes are soft, his fingers combing through Steve's hair, and Steve's head is still in his lap, even though it probably shouldn't be. "If you want coke..." he murmurs, his voice a low, fond rumble, "you can just ask for it."
"Yeah?"
"Sure, Stevie."
Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie reaches into his jacket, pulls out a little baggie and holds it up in question. Steve gulps; nods.
Fuck yeah. He hasn't had coke in forever.
Eddie pours the smallest amount onto the back of one hand, licks the thumb of his other and presses it into the pile, coating it in white powder. He brings it up to Steve's mouth and rests it right against his lip — barest hint of pressure; not hovering, not pushing in. "Well, go on," he smirks.
Steve makes a questioning sound that comes out like a whine, a high, nasal thing in the back of his throat. His cock stirs in his jeans.
"Ask me," Eddie whispers.
"Can I have it?" Steve asks. He can feel Eddie's thumb against his lips as he speaks; has to stop himself from flicking out his tongue to get a taste. "Please?"
"Fuck," Eddie hisses between his teeth. "Yeah, baby." He presses into the meat of Steve's bottom lip; drags it down, exposes skin that's wet and warm. Dances over it with the pad of his thumb — the inside of Steve's lip, his gums, his tongue.
There's no mistaking the sound Steve makes for anything but a moan, throaty and deep as he sucks Eddie's thumb deeper into his mouth; hollows his cheeks, makes Eddie gasp. Makes him twitch his hips up under Steve, and it's good, and Steve feels like there are live wires where his veins used to be, the rush of the coke and Eddie's hands and Eddie's noises in his good ear, and—
"Hey!" someone shouts across the field. Eddie moves like he's been shot at, flinching away from Steve entirely, a hand pressed over his lap as he turns to see who's coming.
Steve lifts his head to look. His mouth is buzzing, lips full and flushed like he's been kissing someone. Kissing Eddie. God, he wants to. Wants to hike him up the falls, shove him hard against a tree.
But he can't. Because Jason Carver's here now.
Great.
part 26
gonna do the tag lists in separate reblogs from now on (with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content), comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
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moremaybank · 1 year
Text
EYES ON US — r.c
pairing dark!rafe cameron x dark!fem!reader
summary the man you've been having an affair with enlists you in a devious and downright evil plan to get back at your husband. the husband that owes him a million dollars.
warnings 18+, dark!rafe & dark!reader. read at your own risk! violence/use of force, use of guns, kidnapping, being held at gunpoint, mentions of murder but it isn't actually depicted (all pertaining to reader's husband), unprotected sex, blow job turned to face-fucking, spanking, creampie, overstimulation, squirting, voyeurism, revenge sex, i think that's it ???
author's note this is my first dark fic ever so please take it easy on me LOL. i hope you like itttt
rafe masterlist
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It was nightfall, and the air was cold and crisp, with a cloud of fog blanketing the island's heights. It was dark, almost pitch black, barring the dim street lamps, and deafeningly silent, adding to the already ominous theme of the night. It acted as a guarantee that he could make his escape. Flee the island quietly without fearing being sought out by the deadliest man in the Outer Banks.
So, there he was, your husband, Warren, traipsing through a back alley with a duffel bag full of his belongings. The town was eerily quiet, and everything seemed too good to be true. 
Could it be this easy? Warren thought. Will I make it out of this thing alive?
He found his answer when he heard the screech of tires in front of him as he reached the end of the alleyway. A shiver ran up his spine, and his eyes widened, watching three men unloaded from the black SUV. They all instantly made a beeline toward him, and Warren’s steps came to a halt. 
One of the men stepped into the faint, spotlight-like halo, revealing himself to your poor, and not to mention screwed, husband. 
Rafe Cameron. 
Rafe was the most powerful man on the island. He was well-respected and well-feared with equal measure, and rightfully so. With the snap of his fingers, one’s life could be swiped from them without a word or a trace. 
The stories constantly circulated throughout the town, the ones of him and his ruthless men taking action and retaliating moves when needed. 
No one would ever dare to cross Rafe or anyone he still held specks of love for in his cold, nearly-dead heart. They would also do well to avoid getting between him and his money. 
Your husband, however? Not so lucky. 
“You got my money, Warren?”
“Well, actually…it seems I’ve encountered some complications. I don’t have your money, not right now, but I made some wise investments, and I’m just waiting for the cash to come in. You’ll have your money by tomorrow, Mr. Cameron. Every last penny, I swear,” he spoke, attempting to reassure the authoritative man in front of him. 
A wry chuckle left Rafe’s lips in response as he moved closer to your husband. He wasn’t stupid; he knew precisely what Warren looked like when avoiding the truth. 
“See, I’d believe you, except you’ve been spewing the same lies for weeks now, and I still don’t have it. I’d also like to take the time to point out the getaway bag stashed in your hand.” Rafe stepped closer still, “You didn’t think you could hide from me, did you?”
Warren swallowed thickly. “So…what happens next?”
“I like to think I’m a nice guy, Warren. But I do have friends that aren’t so nice. So, I’ll give you a choice; you can either get into the car willingly, or my men here will use force to get you inside themselves,” Rafe responded, motioning back toward the two men who accompanied him. “I think the answer is pretty clear.”
“You don’t have to do this, Mr. Cameron. We’re just two people having a civil conversation. We’re talking, that’s it.” 
It was easy to note the fear in Warren’s eyes and tone, and Rafe relished that he could bring out the fear in people without even lifting a finger. 
“I’m all talked out, Warren. Get in the car, or my men won’t make this easy for you.” 
Warren shook his head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cameron. I can’t.” He dropped the duffel bag, but before he could make a break for it, the two gentlemen on each side of his rival stalked toward him. They grabbed him, gripping his biceps tightly in their hold and dragging him toward Rafe. He tried to put up a fight, kicking his legs and floundering about, but he was quieted in an instant when Rafe’s gun knocked him on the side of his head.
-
About thirty minutes later, your husband woke in a cold, isolated cellar. He found himself alone with the same two men that had aided Rafe in getting him there. 
Warren moved to raise his hand but soon realized that his wrists were bound with thick ropes, as well as his ankles, and both were secured to the metal chair he sat on. He tried to budge, but the tight ropes combined with his head pounding gave him little to no strength or energy to follow through. He hissed as the left side of his head throbbed in pain, and he could feel the remnants of blood still dripping down his temple. 
Breaking the silence, Rafe knocked on the door and entered the room. He went over to Warren calmly and raised his hand to remove the tape from his victim’s mouth.
“I’d apologize for the rough tactics used to get you here, but I had no choice. I wasn’t about to let you run from me. Can’t have people thinking I’m getting soft, Warren. My empire would implode.”
“…Dare I ask what the plan is?” Warren mutters in response, eyes focused on Rafe pacing back and forth all too calmly.
“Well, my good friend, to be quite honest, I was just going to have you killed, you know? Lights out,” he snaps, “just like that. But then I thought, how can I make this better? And, shit, I think I’ve really outdone myself this time.” Rafe crouched down in front of Warren, their faces now levelled. “I have a very special treat for you, Warren.” 
One of his men opened the door again, and you walked, draped in designer from head to toe. Your dress clung to your curves with ease, and your heels clicked against the pavement of the cellar as you made your way over to Warren and Rafe. 
“Hi, baby,” you greeted with a smile, the glimmer in your eyes as bright as ever. 
Warren assumed you were speaking to him, but he wondered why you would be grinning from ear to ear when your husband was about to face his impending death.
Things became apparent as you stepped into the arms of Rafe, right in front of him, pressing a long and deep kiss to his lips before pulling back with a giggle. You turned your attention toward your husband, whose expression was gobsmacked. Your eyes landed on the ropes that kept him tied up. 
“Ooh,” you mused, “kinky.”
“I thought so too,” Rafe grinned, kissing your temple as his hands stroked your upper arms.
“What the fuck is going on? Why are you with him, Y/N? Why are you kissing him?” 
Fury bled through your husband’s tone, and you could see his brows creasing as he let the emotion take over him entirely. 
“Aw, come on, sweetie. You had to know I’d leave you eventually,” you replied. 
“What?” He whispered, swearing he could feel a crack in his heart threatening to split through it completely. 
“You’re broke, Warren. You owe Rafe nearly a million dollars, yet everything you’ve done to get it back has failed. You told me it would all work out, but there you were just half an hour ago, ready to make your escape and not bothering to care about the circumstances you would leave me in. Broke and completely alone.” You crouched down just as Rafe had earlier, “I don’t like being lied to, Warren.”
“You’ve been lying to me for some time, too. You’re a hypocrite. And a two-timing whore.”
Rafe was quick to punch your bad-mouthing husband square in the jaw. “Watch what the fuck you say to her, or I’ll make this worse for you. You got that?” 
You both watched as Warren glared at him silently, spitting the blood pooling in his mouth onto the floor beneath him. Then, you stepped directly in front of your husband, tilting his face up to look at you with your index finger. Looking him right in the eye, you started to explain your reasoning. 
“It was for a good cause. Rafe can give me everything, all the things you never could. Like good sex, for example. A woman needs her orgasms, my love, and you were doing a very lousy job providing me with them.”
Warren tore his gaze from yours in embarrassment, and it was hard not to bask in it. The taste of revenge was sweet on your tongue, and the fun hadn’t even begun yet. 
“So, what, your evil plan was to reveal your little affair to me? Congrats. Can you kill me now?” 
Rafe chuckled mockingly, shaking his head. “You underestimate me, man. You should know who I am by now.” Taking hold of Warren’s jaw, he bent to his level and placed the tape back on his lips. “You’re going to watch me fuck her. And believe me; it’s going to be one hell of a show.”
Rafe looked back to you over his shoulder, “Take off your dress for me, baby. Leave the heels on.” 
You nodded gleefully, moving to unzip your dress. You shimmied it down the length of your body and let it hit the floor. Your bare breasts and pussy were left in plain sight, having chosen to skip undergarments altogether. 
Rafe smirked at you, “No panties? Naughty girl.” He walked over to you, his hand clasping around your throat and drawing your face to his. He then kissed you, letting his tongue slip into your mouth and tangle with yours. 
When Rafe broke the kiss, he looked back at his men. “Make sure Warren is facing us at all times. I don’t want him to miss a single second of this.” His men both nodded and began to make their way to Warren’s chair. They stood on either side of him, caging him in — not that he would’ve been able to break free.
Rafe’s attention returned to you. His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, “How do you wanna do this, baby?” 
You pondered dramatically, tapping your pointer finger against your jaw. When you cooked up your answer, you beamed widely. “Why don’t you fuck me in doggy?” Your eyes met Warren’s, “Your favourite. Right, hun?”
“Fucking his wife in his favourite position? That sounds fucking fantastic to me,” Rafe stated proudly. His hand grasped your wrist, about to lead you to the other side of the table. Before he could, you stopped him. 
“Wait,” you say. “I wanna suck you off first.”
That stung. You barely ever offered to do so for your husband. You’d always been the girl that got off on pleasing her man. You sucked dick for your pleasure. But you’d grown bored with Warren so long ago; he couldn’t even fathom the last time you had. 
With him, that is. 
After turning so that Warren could view you from the side, you sank to the floor, your fingers working to free him from the confines of his dress slacks. You palmed and rubbed his cock, waking it up through his briefs. Your eyes peered up and caught Rafe biting his lower lip in response to your touch. You drew his cock out from the fabric before spitting onto your palm. Your dainty hand circled Rafe’s girth and began to stroke him slowly. Your tongue dragged up his length and swirled around his yearning tip before taking him into your mouth entirely. 
With ease, you quickly began to bob your head. Your lips created an air-tight suction around it, taking his cock to the back of your throat each time. You twisted and jerked and lapped at his cock with determination, and Warren’s hateful gaze only goaded you further. 
“Such a perfect goddamn mouth. You love taking my cock down your throat, don’t you?” Rafe spoke, threading a hand into your hair as you worked at him.
It was hard not to smile when you released his cock from your mouth. You spat on it, watching your saliva coat him and make him more slippery. You continued to stroke him while your moistened lips dragged over his balls gently. Rafe leaned his hand backward, bracing it on the table and holding himself up when your thumb ran over his slit. You’ve always known that it was one of his weaknesses, and you were damn sure to use that to your advantage. Your tongue slithered over the remainder of pre-cum still seeping out of him. You teased the small hole, almost making Rafe’s knees buckle.
“I love how hard you get for me when I lick you like this, baby.” Your eyes wandered toward Warren again, “Love this perfect cock so much.” 
You sucked Rafe into your mouth again, your tongue paying special attention to his sensitive tip. It spiralled around the head and slid down his shaft when you practically swallowed him whole. One of your hands fondled his balls and massaged them between your slippery fingers, and Rafe was quick to snap. 
“Fuck, stay right there. Let me use you,” he ordered, taking your head in both his hands now and holding your face in place. Your hands held onto his thighs, and Rafe started roughly fucking himself down your throat. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through him as he chased his high. His cock twitched between the seam of your lips, and his cum spurted out. You swallowed the hot substance, and Rafe groaned when he felt your throat close around him. 
Rafe pulled out, panting heavily as his eyes roamed over to your husband, and he smirked proudly when he saw his eyes about to pop out of his head.
“How’d it feel, Warren? Watching your wife swallow my kids? Hurt, didn’t it?”
Warren shuffled around as best he could, trying to move toward Rafe, but the guards held the chair back, restraining his movements. You and Rafe couldn’t hold back your amused laughs.
“If you think that’s bad, just wait ’til I fill her pussy up. You’ll be fuming.”
“Enough talking. Let’s show him instead,” you said. 
Your hand grabbed Rafe’s as you led him around the table to face Warren. You leaned forward, and your hands braced onto the surface. You arched your back, allowing Rafe full access to your backside. You felt his hands run down the length of your back to your ass, and he squeezed both cheeks before smacking one side. His fingers slid through your folds, feeling the pool of slick leaking from your hole. He sucked on them, tasting your sweetness. 
“Hold on tight, baby. I’m going to make this hurt.” 
Rafe pushed his way into your pussy, filling you up wholly. The air disappeared from your lungs, and you felt his balls against your clit. You instinctually arched further and tossed your head back, now practically bent in half. 
“So big, Rafe. Fuck,” you gasped. 
“Yeah?” Rafe asked, starting to move. “Bigger than him?”
You looked right at your prying-eyed husband. “Way bigger. He doesn’t compare."
Rafe grinned at your response, and his hips began to smack against your ass. His hands curled over either side of your neck, bringing you back against his cock roughly. He wasted no time picking up a ferocious pace, punishing your pussy and taking out all his Warren-related revenge on it. 
“Oh my god, yes,” you mewled. Your hands slid closer to the other side of the table, and your fingers hooked over the edge as you sought out some leverage. “Right fucking there. Shit.”
Rafe’s hand smacked your ass again, pulling a yelp from you, and he felt the heat rising onto your skin at the harsh contact. 
“You never deserved this perfect pussy, Warren. You didn’t even know what to do with it,” Rafe growled as he slammed deep into your hot, slick walls. You encased him so tightly; it was like he was fucking you for the first time again. Rafe never thought it’d get any better than feeling your pussy gripping him like it never wanted to let go, but that was knocked off its pedestal when he watched the rage on his victim’s face.
Warren’s cap was about to blow off. Each time he tried to look away, one of the guards would grip his jaw tightly and force his gaze back onto the two of you. Closing his eyes didn’t help either because he could still hear you calling another man’s name and begging him for more. It was a cruel reminder of how deadly silent you were with him when he gave you your so-called pleasure. 
It was killing him. You were killing him.
Noticing Warren’s shut eyes, Rafe nodded to the guards without stopping, and the two freed their handguns and pressed the muzzles of the guns to each of Warren’s temples.
“Eyes on us, Warren, or they’ll shoot.”
Angrily, your husband forced himself to watch the two of you, having no choice but to endure his suffering.
“‘M gonna cum, Daddy,” you babbled, already fucked into a stupor without finishing yet. “Please, make me cum.” 
Rafe’s eyes found your husband’s once more as he spoke through gritted teeth. 
“This is what it looks like when you can actually satisfy your girl. Can you hear how soaked she is? How loud she’s screaming for me?” Turning his attention back to you, one of his hands slipped into your hair, gaining an unrelenting grip on your strands. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for me and tell him who fucks you this dumb.”
Your tits pressed against the cold metal of the table beneath them, bulging them out and perking up your sensitive nipples as you all but screamed. “You, Rafe! Only y-you!” 
A loud shriek escaped your lips as you came hard, your knees buckling under waves of pleasure. Your body sagged against the table, your hands releasing their grip on it, and you essentially became his fuck doll as Rafe still fought for his orgasm. Your walls would not — could not stop clamping down on him, bringing him closer and closer to cumming.
“I’m going to fill this pussy to the brim. Maybe even let Warren taste it afterward,” he mused through a grunt. “Fuck, princess. So goddamn tight.” 
Rafe reached his high again, letting his cum spurt inside of you. He pulled out in a flash and scooped you up in his arms so he could carry you. He demanded help from one of his guards, having him bring the other chair in front of Warren. He sat down and hovered you over his cock. He tugged you downward, letting your cunt swallow his cock once more. You whimpered, leaning back against your lover’s chest. 
“Spread those legs nice and wide, baby. Need him to see everything he’s missing.”
Though he told you what he wanted you to do, he did you the kindness of helping you out by using his large palms to stretch you out and give Warren a close-up view of his enemy’s cock inside his wife. Your feet braced themselves upon Rafe’s knees, keeping you open for him, and your hands pressed flat against his thighs.
Rafe placed his own hands on the chair, his fingers curling over the edges as he fucked his cock up into you. Your head immediately fell against Rafe’s broad shoulder as you allowed him to pummel into you. 
Your pussy was already sore, but the sting was too satisfying to let go of. The thrill of your husband watching your affair spurred you on as well. There was no adrenaline rush quite like making your disappointment of a husband watch you fall apart on someone else’s cock.
To rub it in (no pun intended), your hand found its way to your clit, and you began to massage it tirelessly. 
“Fuck. Fuck.” You cursed, going harder as you burned for more. Your cunt started to spasm, contracting around Rafe’s shaft, and you knew you were close when your legs trembled. “Rafe!”
“Oh, shit. You going to squirt for us, baby?” Rafe questioned, the pride washing over him. You nodded desperately, and he kissed your shoulder. “Go ahead. Make a spectacle of it. Be my good girl and soak ‘em.”
You squealed when you let go, falling over the edge and letting the euphoria consume you. Your juices squirted out of you, drenching the three men in front of you and the man responsible for making you do so. 
“Bet you’ve never gotten her to do that, huh?” Rafe bragged, free of remorse. 
He fucked you harder, triggering his orgasm as he slipped in and out of you vigorously. You both rode out your climaxes, your legs feeling like jello as you tried to stay upright. Rafe then lifted you off of him carefully before standing up himself. He readjusted his clothing, bringing his briefs and slacks to his hips. 
Your releases oozed from your pussy and started to run down your thighs, and Rafe scooped it up with his fingers. Leisurely stepping right in front of your husband, he removed the duct tape from his lips again. Then, Rafe smeared the cum on his fingers over the seam of your spouse’s lips, looking smug as ever.
“This counts as your last meal, right?” 
Rafe pats Warren’s cheek twice with an evil smile before walking over to you and wrapping his arm over your shoulders. “Say bye, baby.”
“Bye, Warren. I hope you enjoyed the show,” you winked. 
The two of you made it to the door, and Rafe opened it. He turned back to the guards before leaving. “Kill him.”
All that could be heard as you two left the building were pleading screams and a single gunshot. 
Boom.
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suugarbabe · 9 months
Text
Softer Side (pt.3)
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[Final part 😘]
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader
Word Count: ~1.9k
Warning: fighting, mentions of blood, fluff
sorry this did not end in smut, but this whole series has been about Mattheo's soft side so I felt it was only right it ended fluffy 😌
Your senses were enveloped with what you’ve become familiar with as Mattheo’s scent. The smell of lemons and patchouli with the ever familiar hint of tobacco was slowly becoming your favorite. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. You smiled at the tender gesture as he sat down at the table next to you. “Coming to study with me, Teo? Are you feeling ill?” You placed the back of your hand on his forehead in a teasing manner. 
He knocked your hand back playfully, “You should know me better than that, y/n/n. Studying on a Friday?” You snorted, “Studying at all…” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Do you wanna know why I’m really here, Princess?” You nodded, leaning your head on your hand. “There’s going to be a party tonight, in the Slytherin common room.” When your face was unchanging Mattheo raised his eyebrows at you, “You’re coming, right?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “Dunno, might just keep studying.” 
He groaned like a child being told no sweets before dinner, “C’mon…please come. You never come to parties.” 
“How do you know I don’t go to parties?” 
“You’re not the only one who’s people watched this year,” his wink caused an immediate flush to your cheeks. “You can get ready with Pansy, then you can sit by us the whole time. It’ll be fun, we’ll drink, play games. Theo will ask you to smoke and you can deny him, it’ll be the best of times.” You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating your decision. The longer your thought the closer Mattheo was bringing his face. Closer and closer and closer until his nose was pressed against your cheek. He knew your answer before you could even say ‘yes’, knowing the grin on your face meant he won and you would be going. He stood triumphantly, letting out a slightly too loud cheer and being shushed by Madam Pince. He kissed your cheek, letting you know he’d see you at the party as he and the other boys ‘needed to finish some planning’.
You did your best to continue to study, even for a few hours. But your nerves about the party were too loud. You decided to find Pansy, seeing if she’d spend a little extra time helping you get ready as this was your first party in a long time. She was more than excited, practically destroying her dorm room with flying dresses, tops, and skirts. She finally landed on you wearing an emerald green pleated skirt, a little shorter than you normally wear; falling just above mid-thigh. Your top was a black crop top with two delicate strings criss-crossing around your abdomen and tying in the back. She had you accessorize with a dark green velvet choker and a gorgeous silver snake ring. Pansy argued that you should wear heels but thankfully she let you opt for shiny black doc martens. 
You looked yourself over again, doubt clouding your brain. Pansy encouraged you, telling you how good you looked and how much Mattheo would be drooling over you. You pushed your doubts aside, entering the party with Pansy hand in hand as she led you to the rest of the group. Mattheo greeted you with a kiss, whispering in your ear about how breathtaking he thought you looked in the Slytherin house colors. He brought you down to the couch with him, draping your legs over his lap. You all talk and joke together, playing some games and drinking. You needed a refill, so Pansy agreed to go with you, both of you agreeing to grab some drinks for some others. You were surprised how well the night was going. Until it wasn’t. 
“Can you believe who Mattheo’s been spending time with all night?” You stilled at the drink table, listening now to the conversation of the girls behind you. “Oh god, yes. Little mouse of a girl, that Ravenclaw. I mean, what does he think he’s going to accomplish?” You were seething now, Pansy noticing your change in demeanor. You made eye contact with her, her eyebrows raising as if to ask you what’s wrong. You opened your mouth to answer, but then you heard the girls voices again, mocking you and Mattheo, talking poorly about him and his intentions. You couldn’t take it. 
You turned around, grabbing the main girl's shoulder. “What the bloody hell is your problem? Have you ever even had one conversation with Mattheo or do you just pine for him from afar like a loser?”  You'd forgotten about the drinks, hands at your side clenching and unclenching. Pansy was behind you, arms crossed and smirking. The girl scoffed, “Do I have to? Everyone knows how he is.” 
“You have no idea how he is. You don’t know the first real thing about him,” you were doing your best to stay calm, but you could feel your anger rising. One more thing, just one more ignorant thing out of her mouth and you weren’t going to be able to control yourself. The smirk that formed on the girl’s face told you that she thought her next words were going to make her seem like she knew it all, “You think because he gave you a few hickey’s that it’s your job to defend him now? Do you even know the number of girls he’s done that to? You are not special to him. He’s a prick, always been a prick, always will be a prick. Honestly we’re doing you a favor leveling out your expectations right now.” 
And there it was, your boiling point. You turned your head slightly, speaking to Pansy now, “Do me a favor, Pans?” She nodded her head, confused by the smile forming on your face, “Go get Mattheo, maybe Theo too while you’re at it.” The girl across from you gave you a mocking pout, “What’s wrong? Need big bad Mattheo and friends to come defend you, feeling bad now?” You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to contain your laughter. The girl clearly confused by your response. You took a deep breath, opening your eyes and making direct eye contact with her, “God no. Pansy’s gonna go get them for your sake. Because they’re going to be the only one’s strong enough to stop me from beating the shit out of you.” 
The girl opened her mouth to respond, but your fist was already connecting with her nose. She doubled over in pain, and you used this as an opportunity to throw her down to the ground. You pushed her back to the ground, kneeling over her chest as you took swings at her. You had to give her some props, she really did try to fight back for a moment, pulling at the strings of your top and trying to grab at your hair. You laughed slightly at her efforts, which probably made you look slightly more crazy than you already did to the crowd that was forming around the both of you. You got one more good swing in before you were being lifted into the air, the same familiar scent of lemon and patchouli filling your senses like this afternoon. 
The girl was lucky Mattheo was so strong, because you were thrashing against his grasp but he still held you like you weighed nothing. Your adrenaline and anger still high as ever, not wanting to be done with the fight, “Mattheo you let me down right now, she deserves it.” You felt him chuckle against your back, “No way, princess. Parties over for you. You keep thrashing around and you’ll make me have to use a binding spell on you.” You slumped immediately, making him laugh again. He carried you to his dorm, finally setting you down once you exited the hall. He led you to the bathroom, where he lifted you back up to have you sit on the large countertop, hands settling on either side of your thighs, “Now, you wanna tell me why I just witnessed my innocent little Ravenclaw in a fight that easily rivaled one I would get myself into?” 
You averted your gaze, looking down at your hands in your lap. Your bruised and bloodied hands. You wanted to feel awful, but her words played in your head again, “She was being a cunt.” You mumbled your response, causing Mattheo to tilt your chin up, forcing your eyes on his, “Come again, darling?” You sighed deeply, speaking more clearly this time, “She was being a cunt.” Mattheo was laughing again. You were glad he found this whole situation so amusing. “While I don’t doubt that, do you mind telling me exactly what happened to earn her the title?” He took one of your hands in his, grabbing his wand with the other. He started waving his want over your injured knuckles as you explained to him what happened. How you overheard them talking about you, and what they thought his intentions were. How you told them to shove off, then they told you that you were just another girl to him. Which, you clarified, was fine if it were true, but that he did not deserve to be talked about that way just because they were jealous of you being the current girl gaining his attention. 
Mattheo finished mending your hands, then did a quick once over of your face and neck to make sure you didn’t have any other injuries before he responded. “You know, usually I’m the one getting mended, kind of a nice change to be the one taking care of somebody.” You blushed as he continued, “You're not just some girl to me, y/n. Not just another name on some list I have in my nightstand. You're different. Special to me." You looked at him with wide eyes, not quite expecting those words to be told to you. He cupped your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before placing a kiss to the other side.
"You seem to have this habit of defending me, y/n. Why do you get so mad when someone talks bad about me, love? You know most of what they say is probably true.” You shook your head, “It’s not true. Not the Mattheo I know. Not my Mattheo.” He hummed at your words, “Mm, your Mattheo. I like the sound of that.” You giggled slightly, pushing his shoulder, “You know what I mean. Just- I see a different side of you.” He nodded, dimples on full display as he came to stand between your legs, “Yeah, you do. But there’s another side that I’ve just been dying to show you.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at him through your lashes, “Is that so? And what side would that be, sir?” That last word alone caused his irises to flash just a shade darker, pupils slowly growing, “Careful with your words, princess.” His hands gripping the underside of your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist. You were feeling confident now, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I’m always very careful…sir.” He lifted you up then, carrying you from the bathroom to his bed, making promises to show you a different side of him that he said was also just for you.
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