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dorcas4meadowes · 4 months

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Strawberry Kisses - Luke

Castellan

Pairing: Luke Castellan × Reader

Summary: with a majority of the summer campers away, you and Luke indulged in the quiet through strawberry picking and a picnic date

Warnings: bodies of water, kisses

W/c: 1.5k (I think)

»»———-　　———-««

Sunlight hit Luke's features ever so sweetly, casting a golden halo over his tousled curls. He led you through the paths which were weaved between bushes allowing your fingers to grasp every plump fruit that caught your gaze.

You granted yourself the luxury of becoming distracted admiring the pleasures of the harvest season. You lingered amongst the scent of ripened strawberries and the feeling of dewy warmth, your arms swaying alongside your wicker basket which accommodated very few berries, eating more than you stowed away.

As you gathered the luscious fruits time seemed to slow, savouring the simple moments.

"They’re almost as sweet as you," Luke mused, holding a fruit up to the sunlight before placing it into the basket.

"Any time I believe you couldn't become any more sap you manage to outdo yourself Castellan."

He favoured the way your voice lulled his last name - it was said by many - but your lips managed to make the word seem untouchable. He placed a peck on your cheek before leaning down to twist a berry from a bush, before you too began to discover them hidden behind the copious greenery and flourishing flowers.

Once your container brimmed with red you dispersed from the fields with a smile, taking a detour to your cabin to pick up a larger hamper - filled with sweet delights - and made your way towards a secluded meadow dappled in indirect sunlight.

The perfect sanctuary for a picnic.

You stepped your feet onto the lush grass and escorted Luke towards the lake and laid your chequered blanket beneath the shade of an oak tree, the branches forming a natural shade.

You stretched yourself on the spread, enveloping yourself into the soft murmur of nature and letting tranquillity tug you into a tender embrace.

"Two days." Luke mumbled, noting you of the impending summer break.

"Mm, don't remind me" You said, reaching your fingers to rest in his curls and pull him closer to plant a sweet his on his lips. You left his warmth for a few moments before immediately being tugged back in. "Got something on your mind?" You asked.

"A few things…"

His fingers trailed along your back as if it were a path, your spine a road for his hands which led him to the crease of your knee. He lifted your leg over his own, inviting you to a seat - which you comfortably took - resting your weight against him. His hands slithered to rest in the dip of your curves, taking advantage of his position to brush warm kisses against your jaw and open shoulders. You moved a little to get an "adequate chair", but your actions were evident of what you were attempting, the kisses becoming unsteady and shaky. Your heart began to race in contrast to your slowing thoughts, being consumed in the intensity of your blended emotions.

Then they stopped all together, his head turned from you to find the startled gaze of your close friends – Clarisse and Chris – supposedly on their own adventure.

"Fuck" you mumbled, awkwardly waving to them after tumbling from your boyfriend's lap.

"Why are you waving?" Luke asked

"Maybe they'll go away."

"Piss off Rodriguez!" he yelled across the hill, his sibling swiftly putting his thumbs up before dragging Clarisse away who raised an eyebrow at your commotion.

"Why were they this far away from camp?" you questioned.

"Probably looking for a place to shag." He said bluntly.

After the encounter, you remained "civil" attempting to not scar any more of your companions. You spoke about your plans for when the summer residents would flood back to the camp and the duties you would start. Though, to be bold, Luke couldn't be more uninterested in the stress of a few days, so he pulled his shirt over his head, causing your lips to close and form a smile.

"A swim, while we still can?" He asked, allowing his fingers to snake to your shoulder to slip the strap from your dress. When the support fell, his eyes shamelessly glanced at the bikini which adorned your top, your chest pooling out of the small fabric.

Despite not being the first time he saw you undressed, a flush spread across his cheeks, a similar to the shade of the berries that you picked earlier.

"Swimming's still on, right?" You questioned trying to remain nonchalant, your hand lifting his chin, so his eyes met yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he reconfirmed, his words breathy and diverted.

You slid off your dress and stood, reaching out for his hand to drag him towards the cool tide, your feet stinging from the warmth of the sand which met the shore. Confidence began to seep into your posture as Luke seemed more flustered than he was letting on.

His mind was still preoccupied, so you kicked water at him, creating a war against the sea and the bodies that stood amongst it. You both lingered in the tide and hit one another with gushes of cool until you were fully submerged, gasping for air as your heads rose from the depth of the water.

You turned toward Luke and accepted his outstretched hand which curled around your waist and wrapped under your leg to fold your thighs around his torso. Your chin fell against his shoulder, your arms relaxed around his neck, simply being close to one another.

"Only if we weren't in public…" He muttered, swaying you a little in the water. You weren't in the direct vision of the camp, but this spot was common for wandering satyr's - and Clarisse and Chris - so you kept somewhat disciplined.

"Oh, do tell." You craved as he nipped at the skin below your ear, your legs tightening against him as he whispered sweet - dirty - nothings to you. The familiar all-consuming tension from earlier returned as easily as it left.

He slipped a finger under your jaw to force your eyes to his and you didn't waste time in pressing your lips together. It started gentle - just a press - , but Luke reassured you of how soft his heart truly was for you.

You revelled in the knowledge that only you got to see him like this, so relaxed and pure. Heat took hold and became contagious to Luke, the passion and intensity the two of you shared having no place for the public eye. It’s kept stowed away in the innocent gestures of light, playful touches or holding hands, now it’s revealed itself for what it is.

Inescapable.

No matter how many times the two of you kissed, each time felt different. Each kiss filled with depths of your emotions, that only spilled over when you couldn’t physically contain the heat any longer. He indulged once more before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, dismissing your prying hands and throwing you into the surf and swimming away, leaving you chasing after him.

You stayed in the ocean - quick pecks and swims - until you both grew exhausted and took rest on your blanket, leaving your bodies uncovered for the sun to kiss.

You lay tired and gazed up at the endless sky and let Luke busy himself amongst the flora, slipping many small flowers he had collected into the curvatures of your hair, sliding them into your braids.

And in moments like these you could appreciate what the fates had woven into your future - despite their dreadful manners - beauty could be found amongst the threads and fabrics, the boy beside you covering your life's canvas with an outbreak of stain age.

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If you want to be added to a tag list for Luke fics just comment (requests are open as always)

<33

Master list

#luke castellan imagines #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo x you #pjo x reader #percy jackson series #riawrites

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

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Title: Predatory Flora.

A Grab Bag Commission For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

Summary: A lost little adventure meets a particularly sweet plant.

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non//Con, AFAB!Reader, Tentacles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Bondage, and Implied Mind-Break.

It tasted like honey.

Thick, viscous, painfully sweet, clinging to your lips and your throat as you struggled to choke it down. You thought it might’ve been nectar – some kind of natural by-product yet to be recorded in any of the logs you’d skimmed through in preparation for your journey. If you had heard about this, you were sure you would’ve remembered it, would’ve made a mental note to keep an eye out for plants with thrashing vines and bright pink petals that latched onto your lower face and forced their dripping pistils down your throat, for plants whose saccharine scent made your thoughts crowded and your body lag. You wouldn’t have taken a wrong step, wouldn’t have found yourself in a pit of squirming vines and blooming flowers. You would’ve avoided this, if you’d known what to look for.

You’d be trying harder to escape, if you had proof that anyone had ever encountered this thing and lived.

Slowly, jerkily, you managed to lift your hand and take the flower by its stem, but as soon as you made contact with its pulsing, dewy flesh, another tendril lashed out and wrapped around your wrist – this one a dark green, sticky to the touch and covered in long, tapered red hairs that seemed to squirm and batter against your skin. Oh god, your skin – you felt like you were burning, simultaneously buzzing with a numbing sort of static and overwhelmed with the aching need for something to press against you and stay there. It was almost a relief when another tendril rose from the creature’s main body, tangling around your unoccupied hand and dragging it downward, when another pair curled around your legs and dragged you off your feet completely. You twisted weakly in its hold, but your body relished the pressure, the stimulation. You could feel something dripping down the inside of your thighs, but where there should’ve been embarrassment, utter humiliation, you could only bring yourself to feel a sense of thrashing, twisting anticipation.

Anticipation that only grew more unbearable as the ground shifted underneath you, a mass of leaves and tangled roots coming to rest underneath your back. Or, no, wait, you were the one moving, the vines curled around your limbs maneuvering you deeper into the pit, closer to the base of this thing’s body, onto a bed of thick emerald leaves and coiled vines. The flower latched onto your face pumped one more mass of sickly sweet agony down your throat before recoiling, falling around your neck and letting its nectar ooze down your tunic, your chest. You mourned its loss, but the misery of separation was short-lived. Those red hairs were swarming you in a moment, forcing their way under your clothes, your armor. Your pack fell away first, then the sword at your waist – the only weapon you’d thought to bring on what should’ve been a routine expedition. Your leather armor was pulled over your head carelessly, and what remained of your clothes weren’t even given that much respect, torn and ripped until little more than tattered shreds remained.

Somehow, seeing the planes of your own exposed skin helped to clear your scattered mind, to jolt just enough sense into your lust-addled brain to remind you that you were in the mouth of a creature you couldn’t name, at the mercy of whatever it’d forced you to swallow. You made a half-hearted effort to kick out, to pull your arms out of its hold, but the creature only strengthened your restraints by way of response, its tendrils winding tighter around your limbs. You grit your teeth, dug your blunt nails into its vines, but for everything you ripped away, two more would emerge from the main body to take its place. Your legs were spread far enough for a tight throbbing to form in your thighs, your arms hitched upward and bound together above your head. Another flower found its way to your face, but you bit at its petals, staving it off with gnashing teeth and harsh thrashing. You held your breath, attempting to clear your thoughts, to put together something close to a plan and—

"Don't fight." Its voice seemed to come from everywhere, from everything. Your eyes darted from vine to vine wildly, but you only found its source when two hands descended from nowhere; long, tapered fingers coming to cup your face and tilt your head back. A poor imitation for something human hovered above you, its skin that same dark green, its eyes that terrible pink. It was smiling - or, it was supposed to be, at least. "It's so much more fun when you give in quickly."

You felt something push into you, a blunt head forcing its way into your dripping cunt. In tandem, a tendril with a flattened tip latched onto your clit, lapping over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves – the sensation not unlike that of a tongue. Instantly, your mind went blank. If your body had been burning before, it was on fire now, something vital and vulnerable inside of you melting as the blunt tendril lazily thrusted into you, only occasionally pausing to curl or coil. You could make out more of that awful nectar leaking out of your cunt, coating the tendril with a thin sheen of its own aphrodisiac. You could feel the creature’s body reverberate underneath you, letting out a resounding purr as it forced its way deeper into you. You could see it grinning above you, golden nectar dripping over its bottom lip.

A matching smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Absent-mindedly, you spread your legs, letting yourself go completely slack. The creature took over, latching onto your chest and wrapping around your waist, pulling you further into its embrace. Pleasure rolled over you in thick waves, suffocating what few useless worries you still had until you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything at all. You bucked your hips towards the tendril inside of you, savoring the slow shudder of arousal that crept down your spine as a reward. You couldn’t get away, but that was fine. You’d be here forever, but you didn’t care.

It wasn’t like you could ever want to leave.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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ourolite2 · 4 months

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ᨳິ petites idées!　　nsfw, smut. xiao + wanderer.　what kind of bottom they would be?! *round of applause* themes — hinted dacryphilia, overstimulation, god complexes, edging, you name it! with other honorable mentions such as m!oral receiving, praise kicks, breeding kinks, blindfolding- oh, and cowgirl. ༄

❀ “You speak of my approval with such ease, it is no easy feat to make me approve such lecherous ideas.” — Says the cross-armed, baleful-eyed yaksha.

❀ “It is when you’re HIM!” — Retorts the smug-faced gn!adventurer who lacks every meaning of self-preservation.

✿ No because you felt like THEE shit when you managed to convince him to bottom for you simply because his confirmation evinced that he trusts you greatly. You’re also quite sure he understands the vulnerability of his position, hence his hesitation even towards your reassurance and lighthearted jokes. Anyway, I’m sure he’s a demanding yet pleasing bottom. Not an ounce of kinkiness or brattiness radiates from his sweet self. His primary focus is to please you, after all.

✿ He’d do anything to give and receive said pleasure, though when he’s on the receiving end, he’s more demanding simply because he knows what he wants. Surely he’s still somewhat timid when it comes down to it, but not enough to disclose discomfort. Though, you almost never cause enough discomfort for him to relent completely. Surely he’s still somewhat timid when it comes down to it, but not enough to disclose discomfort. Though, you almost never cause enough discomfort for him to relent completely.

✿ But the downside to such PARADISE is him tending to lose focus when he’s too stimulated, so without proper communication you’re likely to get harmed during the process. Such as him biting your shoulder to the point where you’re dripping with blood, for example. Hence he’s a runner not because he’s overstimulated, but worried for your safety.

✿ LIKE OKAY LET ME COOK RQ ITS OKAY JUST LISTEN—

꒰꒰　　“[Y/n], why aren’t you speaking?”

𝒲hile gyrating his pearly-white hips to define impatience, the bleary-eyed adeptus questioned the one between his thighs who was unsuccessfully managing to retain a smile on his face. His baltic gold eyes were lowered with intemperance as if the concept of composure has yet to fill his mind. Though of course, considering the titillating scene below him, an innate look of intimidation is the last thing he could perform at the moment, for his cheeks suffused with crimson once your lips enriched his rubified tip with an amorous smooch.

Conflicted, since your immortal lover twitched rhythmically in your palm as if he isn’t upset over something minor, you stared up at him as you seasoned kisses along the viridian designs that journeyed from his faultless abs to his soppy tip. His expression softened sequentially once you’ve acknowledged that you forgot something during your travels, which was to fetch a kiss from the agitated yaksha’s lips below you, earning a waspish whine from him. Confused, you did just that, and while speaking “Alatian” has its perks, you do wish sometimes he would just speak his mind at times.

“Would you like for me to talk to you, Alatus?” You asked him against his departing lips, which were faminished and quivering for more than just a meaningless peck. Shamelessly, he nodded, his arousal unbridled much like his leather-gloved hands that found solace within your thighs. He gripped them with imprudence, his fingertips excavating into your skin to the point where you moaned at the seething sensation. You tittered at his display of desperation with another one of those teasing pecks he learned to loathe, but he wouldn’t dare make his move. Not in the volatile state he was in. Not yet at least.

“Okay, my love. I’ll talk you through it. Just lay down and relax, and everything will be alright.”

Your promising tone was the personification of qingxins. It even sparked the coldest stare to convert into a dewy-eyed state, his dick throbbing relentlessly without a lick of consideration for his depleting composure. Once you lowered yourself back towards the issue, your siren-like glare fixated on him, and if your mouth wasn’t enough to have him clenching the life out of the silky duvets, your voice certainly did the trick. Despite being capable of maintaining eye contact, his head gradually tilted backwards, trotted by a shaky moan eluding his lips.

“I… Hah… Hah…” He panted brainlessly as your mouth enveloped around his aching shaft, roughly and greedily sucking him as your head bobbed at a reasonable pace. Although you believed that he was going to last a little longer, the excessive twitching down your throat begged to differ. Alatus’s forearm was concealing his line of sight as his hips uncharacteristically thrusts inside of your mouth in order to amplify the whirling pleasure. A muffed gag rumbled beneath your throat in response, though your warning was needless to the needy thing, for he only groaned ecstatically when the vibrations blessed his slobber-coated dick. Times like this, it’s practically an obligation to relent. Even though you’re alright with the idea of him obliterating your vocal chords, he tends to get a little too animalistic at times.

His dick slid from off your drooling tongue with a heavy breath, though the metallic connection between his tip and your mouth was inseparable; he needed to be in your mouth, desired to hear how you’d sound after he fucked your throat with such potency. Instinctively, with a low whimper to correspond with his impulses, he shoved himself back in your mouth, causing you to gag louder than before. You pulled back innately in order to let out a strained cough, but you still possessed the consciousness to continue stimulating him by wrapping your supple fingers around his drenched length. Alatus’s teary eyes widened apologetically once he processed his actions, but bestowing a raspy chuckle in response to his desperation made his worries dissipate within milliseconds.

“N-Not yet… not yet… Need.. more?”

He immediately begged without a breath in his lungs, but that was expected with the way he was panting as if someone was asphyxiating him. His look was still flushed with apologies that his arousal refused to verbalize (expect him to latch onto you apologizing once you two finish, however). It would be intrusive to force him to dwell in such an agonizing state, though the way his tears brightened his amber-blessed eyes only made you squirm even more in anticipation. It was a difficult choice, whether to make him cum now or see how long it would take for him to finally break.

Such a poor thing, please treat him accordingly, would you?　　꒱꒱

❀ “Huh… and what makes someone like you so worthy of that?” — Asserts the haughty, anthropologic doll.

❀ “Well, what do I need to do to deserve all of you?” — The hispanic!male adventurer replies with a similarly haughty appearance.

✿ You’d need an unreasonable amount of self-control to deal with him. I’m sure we’re all aware that he also fits in the switch category, and I’d also like to believe that he’s definitely a degrading, punishing top who would probably make you beg to cum only for him to refuse each time. Him bottoming didn’t change his personality much as well, because now he’s a power bottom brat who doesn’t understand when or how to be quiet. The most you could do is practice the term “patience”.

✿ Oddly, despite his disrespectful antics, he adores praise, just like any other individual with narcissistic tendencies. Adulation is something any God should bask in, yes? Instead of punishing him for his mouth, which takes longer to rectify, you should keep a kind smile and claim that his pretty face is better when drenched with tears. Now this nigga sobbing with each chance he gets, ordering you to compliment him.

✿ I also like to believe that Wanderer knows many variations of Spanish… iykyk. His Shouki no Kami was probably inspired by Latin American folklore and history. Y’all know them damn them Incas was unnecessarily strong. In order to study it, he needed to explore the languages first.

✿ Man, just let me cook- LET ME COOK, PLEASE.

꒰꒰　　𝓑illowing smoke of the burning Kalpalata lotus aromatized the bleak vicinity to help catalyze the whirling arousal in your abdomen in order to free yourself from exasperation, though even a sex-inducing flower wasn’t enough to reach a singular orgasm considering your doll’s intentions. Your senses were reliant on touch and smell, from remnants of padisarahs and plastic wafting in your face since Kuni’s hat was disrupting your line of vision, to your dick being swallowed effortlessly by the failed deity, who was also grunting waspishly because of such. Really, it was forbidden to even consider anything but him during such a pious session. How dare you burn something so useless when there was an intoxicant bringing ambrosial warmth, mewling and groaning endlessly around your shaft, embellishing the reddened beige with hallowed ivory? You were mocking him and he knew it.

“Dámelo,” He panted begrudgingly causing spittle to elude his lips that were perishing from desiccation. Without giving you a moment to relish in his faultless lilt that wasn’t programmed in his system, but rather studied simply by analyzing how you speak, he snatched the floral-based joint from between your fingers before tossing it elsewhere. You didn’t need it. You needed him to cum, but it was beginning to sound like he was convincing himself more than anything.

He could even feel you grinning puckishly underneath his meretricious hat, which he forbade you to remove since you didn’t deserve to bask in the glory he endowed upon you, but you could definitely rely on your imagination. From what you’ve learned was a cross-armed, disdainful-appearing doll converting into a needy, irritable lover who needs to feel you come undone beneath him. “Do you ever consider being more God-fearing, [Y/n], or do you have some sort of dying wish?”

Irreverently, you nodded to affirm his revulsion; he was on the verge of leaving you hard and impatient to accentuate his disappointment. You understood this, seeing as he placed his frigid palms on your pecs in order to ascend his hips, but you grasped one of them instinctively, coaxing his walls to remember why they contract to begin with. Meanwhile your other hand occupied his rubified dick, your thumb anointed with cum that seeped from his sensitive tip. A spate of overwhelming, awe-inspiring, sacrilegious images permeated your memories once your fingers journeyed along his maculated hips, your dick twitching harshly inside of him since the overwhelming desire to paint his ass with crimson handprints inveigled you greatly. It’s almost as if he hasn’t even threatened you to begin with, for the broken whimpers that were poorly disguised as resentful grumbles desired endless adulation.

“¿Ay, muñeco… Quieres más?” You questioned sonorously as your thumb gyrated around his tip, your tone somewhat strained due to the fact that Kuni pulsated and clenched around you because of appropriate addressment. Although he despised the fact that he needed to reduce to fragility to become utilitarian, libations of cum spluttering from his hole as you fuck him during plethoras of orgasms was considerable for the night. The mortifying idea left him ironically blinded, which was determined with the way his hips wiggled and rutted irregularly onto your dick.

Even with his condescending persona, it was evident that he wanted to be of some use to you; he could hardly restrain the tears that painted his porcelain-based eyes as a spew of no’s eluded his lips. In fact, he hasn’t even given you any time to process, since he already snatched your hand away from his tip to avoid finishing too fast… for the third time.

“W-Wait, please…” Imploringly, he hissed under his breath, an innate curse muttering afterwards when he expressed with vulnerability. Deplorable, to say the least. Extremely, to say the least. You adored every second of it; it took you the rest of your self-possession not to batter into him to the point he was charming incantations as if you were his lord. Though, you respected his wishes for now, especially because the cool zephyr kissing your sweat-painted face provided by him finally removing his hat was enough to bring solace to your impulses. “Don’t make me… not again…”

Kuni’s resilience was impeccable, and despite his muddled vision, tousled, empurpled blue hair, panting lips, and entirety of his fucked out exterior, he was willing for more that you had in store for him. You bit your bottom lip with another one of your infamous smiles as you finally grasped both of his hips with both hands. He was startled, let alone offended, at first, but once you began gradually lifting and plunging him down on your dick, the negativities dissipated like flower petals in February. His authenticity was enough, and you could already feel your orgasm approaching rather quickly since you preferred the stammered whimpers rather than the taunting comments. He was more appropriate like this, after all.

“That’s it, fuck me fast- mierda. Want an oblation? Then show me. Show me you need me to cum.” 　　꒱꒱

⑅ neso productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Forget-Me-Not 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You spend the night on the couch. You don't go further than the bathroom. You can't bring yourself to check her bedroom or the one you left behind.

You go out to get your bag and change in the yellow haze glowing behind the faded curtains. You check the time. Jan is expecting you in an hour.

You emerge into the dewy morning and tramp down to ground level. You get in the car, reversing out without looking back at the dingy house. The final farewell can't come soon enough for the slanted walls.

Jan is out in the yard, hammering a pineboard as you drive down his lot. His white hair curls with the sweat beading on his skin. He stills the hammer and wipes his forehead as you pull up.

You get out as he greets you in the way all the villagers do. A manufactured friendliness that cannot erase their true judgement. They smile in face just as easily as the mutter your name under their breath. You mother harboured little good will in Hammer Ford and blood is sacred here.

“Sorry to hear,” he says.

“Matter of time,” you shrug dismissively.

“Isn't no way to come home,” he shakes his head and coughs into his fist, “walnut,” he points the hammer over his shoulder, “like ya said.”

Walnut, like the dining table. Where she sat and drank herself into that box. You nod and follow him over to the casket. The hinges are brass and the finish is rough. What does it matter? It's just going into the dirt.

“Got cash,” you say. Jan doesn't deal with the bank, everyone knows that. Funny the little things that stick with you.

“Thanks,” he accepts the bills as you count them out. So much for a rainy day. The sun shine bright as if mocking the grin affair beneath its watch. “I'll have it taken down to Norn's.”

“Yep,” you agree, “she's there.”

You head out without further niceties. Neither of you uphold those. Better to say what you mean and nothing else.

You get to the property line and idle. You turn away from the woods. You're not ready to go back yet.

You stop by the church first. Father Oswald sits with you to discuss the ceremony. You'll say a few words at the grave site. You don't think anyone would come to a wake. You don't want them to.

You set off again, still reluctant to retrace your steps. You drive to the spare core of the village and park outside the library. You cross the street and peer in through the window of the bakery. It wasn't there when you left.

You venture inside and peruse the sweets behind the glass. You order a black coffee and a cinnamon bun. You pay the woman behind the counter, vaguely familiar. You're certain she was a few years behind you at school.

You sit and pick at the glazed dough. You don't have much of an appetite. You don't feel much of anything. You're just wading through, try not to get lost in the tide.

You sip the coffee. Bold but rich. Not bad. Better than the instant powder gone stale in your mother's cupboard.

The door opens and shuts, several times over as you stare at the table. The city taught you apathy. You don't let the noise bother you.

The chair across from you slides out and a figure plants themselves on the seat. You raise your head, your vision narrowing to make sense of their features. You turn your head to gaze out the window as Loki blows over the top of a mug.

You slide out your phone, a defence mechanism. Still no reception. You put it down and keep your attention diverted. He clears his throat and taps his toe next to yours.

“You know, I do have an important matter to discuss with you,” he says.

You don't react. You know that's what he wants. That's why he showed up the night before. He undoubtedly insisted on being his clan’s representative.

“You've sent your condolences.”

“Mm, yes, but that isn't what I mean,” he traces his finger up the handle of his mug. “The house.”

You lower your brows and keep your eyes beyond the window. The village moves slow as ever. Not like the endless flow of the city streets. There's no where to hide here.

“My father has an offer. The property has value.”

You check your cup, almost empty. You swig the last of it. You stand and gather the cup and unfinished dessert. You put the porcelain on the counter and toss the cinnamon bun on your way out.

The door doesn't close behind you. He's following you. Your heartbeat piques. In an instant, you're hurled into the past. You're running through broken twigs as he snickers behind you. You ball your hands as your breath hitches.

You cross the street without looking, only just dodging a bumper. You go to your car, fumbling with your keys. Before you can stick them in the slot, there's a snare around your arm.

You spin and shove Loki off of you, biting down on a shriek. You glare at him and point the key at his chin.

“Not interested.”

“My father will give you more than the bank,” he counters.

“Don't care.”

He sniffs and quorks his head, “is this because I never called?”

You choke on a scoff. You turn and ram the keys in the slot and twist. You open the door as you step around it. The edge hits him as you swing into the driver’s seat.

“The house is worthless. The bank will give you pennies for the land.”

“Go tell your daddy you failed,” you sneer and yank the door shut, hitting the lock with your fist.

You start the engine without a glance in his direction. You pull put as he barely avoids getting his toes run over. Just as ever, this village belongs to the Odinsons. They won't have to pay the bank much to get what they want but you will never sign your name next to theirs.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #drabble #au #backwoods au #series #thor #avengers #mcu #marvel #forget-me-not

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sodamnradd · 8 months

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(Slytherin Hermione, No Voldemort)

Since first year, they shared a hunger for knowledge, success, and tormenting obstinate Gryffindors.

Draco was mean. Hermione was sharp and temperamental. They made a fierce pair.

When they became older, Draco started sneaking girls into empty classrooms after curfew. Hermione maintained a long-distance relationship with Viktor. They were never single at the same time. And yet, they were never apart.

They spent candlelit evenings sharing magic and getting up to mischief. In fifth year, they created prohibited Portkeys, and on Hogsmeade weekends, slipped into Muggle disguises and snuck off. Crashing dazzling parties in Bath mansions and London lofts. They drank stolen wine and danced drunk. Sixteen, adrenaline-fuelled, fortified by one another’s presence.

At the end of seventh year, Hermione nailed her N.E.W.Ts, was graduating Hogwarts with a prestigious law apprenticeship and without a boyfriend.

It was time to date people in the real world, she claimed, oddly unaffected.

Graduation marked a new era. One where Draco would start his day without Hermione in their common room. Where they wouldn’t share every meal together, or divide-and-conquer assignments. It was a harrowing thought.

Imagining her ‘dating people in the real world’ ate at him. She would sit across the table from somebody else. Somebody else would know her better than he did.

Narcissa made a fuss when her son stubbornly attended his graduation party in Muggle formalwear. But if Hermione was wearing Muggle clothing, then so was Draco.

Hermione showed up at Malfoy Manor looking indecently gorgeous.

He had a way of making himself miserable, Draco. The words ‘old times’ ‘childhood best friend’ ‘the one that got away’ entrapped his mind like Devil’s Snare and weaved his stomach into knots.

At Hogwarts, whenever he felt lost, his internal compass pointed to Hermione. Tonight was no different.

She wasn’t a social butterfly like Draco. She thought niceties were a waste of time and preferred to hover on the outskirts of a social scene, observing the chaos in judgy silence.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, balancing a glass of weekend rosé between her fingers.

Moping. “Mingling. You should try it sometime.”

“I survived seven years of Hogwarts tolerating nobody but you. Can't kill my streak now.”

“In that case,” he offered her a folded handkerchief from his breast pocket, “got one more adventure in you?”

When Hermione stepped forward to take it, Draco’s hand twisted around her arm, tugging her into him. His mouth slipped over hers as the Portkey tided them away.

By the time they landed on the dewy grass, Hermione’s arm was around his neck, and she was kissing him with just as much enthusiasm.

He clutched her hip and held her close, fears that plagued him all day long misting away.

It was no surprise that the kiss was explosive. Draco had always known it would be. That they would be.

When they stepped apart, Hermione yanked the lapel of his jacket. Relief swimming in her eyes.

“You idiot,” she whispered, smoothing his shirt. Her palm pressed over his heart. “Why did it take you so long?”

(509 words, photo prompt from twitter, potential ecdysis au where hermione's accepted by the slytherins?)

#sodamnrad #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dhr #dramione drabble #sodamnraddrabbles

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fleetinginfinities · 4 months

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first ever of these but … the bachelors and my random headcanons/quotes/song lyrics/slices of whatever that fit them 🫶 apologies it doesn’t include everyone, these guys are my favorites and I’m having trouble channeling the others lmao

Sam

- drums his fingers/knuckles on tables, his legs, any surface when he’s anxious or impatient or excited or anticipating something. which, he’s always feeling at least one of the above…so

- his fingers. that’s all

- plays footsie under the table but not in a weird way, in more of a “I literally need to be touching you at all times to ground myself to this present moment and be happy” way

- loves full body contact — huuuge tight hugs, rolling on top of you in bed, pulling you into his chest from behind

- mumbles in his sleep and tosses and turns, constantly reaching for you and pulling you close

- blushes a lot. his cheeks turn the most beautiful peachy color

- talks at the speed of light as his default setting

- speeds when he drives, speeds when he walks, just Does Everything Quickly and with much energy

- is somehow both a morning person and a night owl most of the time

- but when he’s lazy or tired, there’s never been anyone lazier or sleepier

- always answers phone calls on speaker mode

- is unaware of his strength when showing affection sometimes, like an oversized dog

- prominent arm veins. enough said.

- makes you feel so alive. present. his energy is contagious

- there’s not a soul he can’t make friends with

- would absolutely love early/mid 2000s pop punk

- blindingly sunny smile

- beautiful, soft golden hair that he wears messy and literally sticks out every direction but in the hottest way ever

- he’s like the summer solstice. an everlasting day that’s sweet and warm and full of life but also peace. Sam, in all of his chaos, is your peace

- “i’m so in love that I might stop breathing”

- doesn’t ever hold a grudge

- smells like lavender and lemon. no I won’t be taking any feedback with this one

- big fan of flowers

- like, it’s not uncommon for him to show up with a hand-picked bouquet for you he collected on the way over

- could’ve worked in a bakery instead of joja mart and would’ve been much happier. sweet cinnamon roll boy

- is actually the heartthrob of the town

- as sweet and pure as he is, he also has a rebellious side and is often trying to sneak you in his room and toe the line of authority whenever he can

- is quite adventurous and doesn’t really have an ego if he’s bad at things or much fear in general. the results are constant entertainment and occasional catastrophes.

Elliott

- “I dream about you every night now. It’s really quite beautiful”

- is actually strong and built and muscular (totally looks like a red headed Thor in my brain)

- but touches and holds you so gently that it makes you want to cry

- extremely strong jawline

- gives that aloof kind of mysteriousness and quiet confidence that is magnetizing to literally everyone

- doesn’t have a toxically masculine bone in his body

- will talk to you for hours about philosophy, literature, films, art, the meaning of life, etc etc etc

- traces his fingers on your bare skin, lost in thought

- has the most mesmerizing, starry eyes

- being around him makes you feel like you’re living in a dream. everything feels ethereal and hazy

- if Sam is the summer solstice, Elliott is like the peak of autumn, when all of the leaves are at their most colorful and bright just before they fall, and you feel like he’s both the beginning and the ending of something all at once

- as a matter of fact: “is this the end of all the endings?”

- “you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else”

- loving him is the most intense, passionate experience of your life

- he would a b s o l u t e l y be the one that got away if you split up

- big fan of candles and crackling log fireplaces

- really enjoys a good row in his boat in the cool, dewy mornings and his back muscles show it

- his emotional intelligence is unmatched. you’ll never meet a more well-adjusted man

- romanticizes life in only the way a writer can

- isn’t just all depth and somber. also isn’t all pizazz and flamboyance. actually has a great sense of humor as a secret third thing

Sebastian

- despite how much he closes himself off at first, you feel an instant connection with him. you just understand him innately. and you feel like he gets you, too

- downplays how smart he really is

- genuinely loves to let everyone else shine. loves that Sam commands all the attention in the room. loves watching others praise you.

- is never competitive with anyone else and absolutely loves when the people around him win. the most supportive person ever

- really has a soft spot for animals

- incredibly intuitive. can read your mind like a book and anticipate your needs

- if he loves you, there is not another person on earth that would ever catch his attention or temptation. 1000% the most loyal boy

- “he looks up grinning like a devil”

- motorcycle rides in the city late at night when it’s raining

- sometimes doing something reckless is the only way that makes him feel alive

- in other words, he’s a closet adrenaline junkie

- can absolutely rival Elliott in terms of being the most romantic with his words sometimes — though it’s few and far between, he will never stop telling you that you’re the first person that he ever did, well, basically *anything* with and how special you are to him and how you’re his one and only

Alex

- it takes a special person to command his attention, he has always had fleeting attractions but he has never felt for anyone what he feels for you

- is absolutely a great person to go to with any problem. he has a clear and straightforward answer or solution

- is the number one person you want to be around if you just want someone genuinely uplifting to spend time with

- *always* notices physical changes and gives fantastic compliments

- is absolutely the dude who keeps his friend group together well into adulthood and middle age and beyond. he’s the one planning beach days, weekend recreational sports and activities, cooking out or tailgating on game days, inviting you for a bite to eat at the saloon if he hasn’t seen you in awhile, etc.

- genuinely loves a good romance or romcom as much as he loves the newest action movie

- fantastic with kids

- is very committed to you from the start

- will go to great lengths to maintain a happy and healthy and successful relationship. it’s the athlete determination in him

- has quite good taste in aesthetics. definitely has an opinion about fashion, home decor, etc

- has perfect teeth and a beautiful complexion in my mind

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sdv #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #yo what is with all the new formatting options here #they’re a Very Good Thing dont get me wrong #but I haven’t regularly used this site since like 2017 #relearning it as we go!

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jarofstyles · 2 years

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I’m Waiting, Darling

Long one, 4.8k!! A look at part 2 of our DWD-like universe

Let us know what you think!

Check out our Patreon!

CW: outdated societal views, misogyny, dom/sub dynamic, breeding kink, praise kink AND slight degrading kink (who could have guessed)

——

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The clock seemed to be taunting her now. 5 minutes until her husband’s time of arrival and she had the dinner table set up, her dress on and an anxiously excited heartbeat.

After the adventure of her failure to convince Harry to stay home this morning, she had taken his words to heart. She was a damn good girl. His shirts were hung to dry, pressed, put away. The large windows of their home were spotless and streakless. The kitchen was already cleaned from dinner besides the necessities set out on the table. The whole home was sparkling and dirt less, Y/N feeling rather motivated to have it perfect so when Harry arrived, every morsel of his attention could be on her.

She knew she was in for some fun with him considering he had reacted so strongly to her advances prior. She had almost cracked him, which meant if anything? He had spent the whole day thinking about her the way she had been thinking about him.

Y/N knew that her poor body was about to be sore. He would be wound up all day by said efforts and she was rather looking forward to it. It was the reason she decided to forgo her panties under her dress.

The plated dinners sat warm on the table when she jumped at the sound of the door opening. Shooting up, she walking towards the entryway, finding Harry taking off his shoes at the door. She had trained him well.

“Hi, darling.” She greeted, looking at him lovingly. His head turned to her with a smaller smile on his face, allowing her to take the briefcase and tuck it into the closet. He gave a quiet thanks before he turned to face her fully, allowing her to step to him for an embrace.

Her husband still managed to smell incredible after an entire day. His warm hands settling on her waist and the back of her head made her sigh dreamily, nuzzling slightly into his shirt as the anxiety from before melted away. His lips brushed her forehead again, this time the evidence of his 5 o’clock shadow tickled her skin. It was so innocent, a chaste kiss to her head, but the reminder of the fact that soon that stubble would be all over her… God.

“I missed you today. I miss you every day.” Her quiet voice made his slightly tense shoulders relax a little bit. Her soft words always did have an effect on his mood. She was proud that she was able to manage to get him to relax a bit just with her compassion. His hand stroked down her hair, squeezing her tighter to his form as he gently swayed them back and forth. Allowing the day’s stress to melt off his bones a bit.

“I miss you too.” He replied earnestly. “It smells amazing in here. I’ve got the best wife.” His body pulled back slightly, grabbing hold of her chin to command her gaze again. His features schooled, examining her soft expression before he asked. “We’re you my good girl today? Did as I like?”

A shiver washed over her, eyes dewy as she nodded against his hand. After all, she had been a good girl. The best, even, Harry relaxed again as he pressed a chaste kiss to her pouty mouth, sucking ever so lightly on her bottom lip before pulling back with a soft ‘pop’ noise. “I knew you would. My perfect little Darling.” He released her before stepping back to hand her his coat to hang up. Y/N perked up at the praise, happy to have pleased him so thoroughly. Her head was still reeling from the kiss though. It never got old.

Harry was pleased with the dinner, as always. Y/N knew how to make his favorites in all the ways he loved and made it a mission to center things around his personal taste, which was good considering she wasn’t all too picky. Y/N’s vice was sweets, which she always had freshly baked every day. Her favorite pastime was using the cookbooks Harry would gift her because he knew of her passion.

She couldn’t ignore the slight tension though. It wasn’t an unfamiliar one, no, it was all too recognizable. The impending crack of Harry’s resolve, knowing that she would end up on her knees or bent over something sooner rather than later. Y/N wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t felt his semi hard cock pressed against her earlier. Her assumptions has been correct in the idea he had been working all day long. This would be good for her sexual appetite which no dinner could fix, but hard on her body tomorrow. She would ache, that delicious after sex ache that reminded her every time she knelt or sat that her man was far more capable of giving her pleasure than anyone else ever could have been.

They had lighthearted chatter about their days, Y/N proudly listing off the things she had done to be met with genuine praise from Harry about how much he appreciated what a beautiful house she kept. How happy he was that she enjoyed their life together and wanted to be home for him. Y/N preened, glowed the entire dinner, which seemed to only inflate his cheerful mood. He had talked lightly about work but he wasn’t one to ever go to far into detail about it. It was always said that he liked to come home and not think too much about files or data and Y/N always wanted to support what he wanted, thus she didn’t press.

“Darling?” His voice called to her from the doorway. She placed the dishes down into the sink and turned to face him, a kind expectant look on her face.

“Yes?”

“Can you follow me upstairs? I need some help with something.” His tone was even, but she could see the promise written in the air. Alread. Harry couldn’t wait until bedtime. He didn’t even bother watching his nightly news show, or take out the trash. He wanted her now.

“Of course.” His hand was laid out for her to grab, loosely held in his own as they climbed the stairs with her in tow. Not stopping once until they reached the bedroom. Her husband made his way towards the closet door, pausing as he looked down at her. His beautiful, beautiful wife. His prize, his tender hearted little Darling.

“Undress me, please.” His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. Y/N could see right through it, the tells all in place to let her know that he was in a whole other headspace.

“I’d love to.”

Delicate fingers were slow, unclipping his tie clip and placing it on the basket. Her deep, shuddering breath would clue him into just how in tune she was with him- not that it would be too difficult to tell. His pants did little to hide the bulge of his erection, which was definitely making it difficult for her to behave.

It was silent besides the quiet play of the radio downstairs faintly audible. Her hands smoothed up his pristine white shirt, nails gently scratching his chest as she did so. He swallowed at the feeling, watching her hands expertly begin to undo the tie.

The tension was hot. Heavy. She was feeling hot under her skin, throbbing between her thighs. Wetness having made a mess underneath her dress from her wild decision to go without anything else underneath. It was scandalous, erotic, knowing Harry was in danger of finding this out in mere moments. His intense stare at her as she let her eyes wander over his broad chest, his strong arms… She wanted to play his game.

The tie was undone, each side in one hand as their eyes met again. The carnal desire was in his green, darker than the dusty olive they normally were. He wanted her. It was written all over his face as she gently pulled the tie, bringing him closer to her with the cloth. It pulled him by the neck, his hand steadying on her waist as his eyes scanned her. Molten stares melting her in place as his gaze dipped down to her breasts, her top a bit lower than it had been at dinner, to her lips which were slightly swollen from her biting at them, to her eyes. Those beautiful eyes he loved so much, keeping his as she tilted her chin up and pressed those soft breasts against his chest, hair falling off her neck as she arched into him.

It was the loudest silence she had ever heard. The tightness in the room pullled as taught as it could go, words failing to properly convey the desire filling the room so densely it almost choked her. There was a promise in his energy. A raw, aching, impure promise that was almost to its end.

And then it snapped.

There was barely time to blink as his mouth was hot on hers, growling as he started the kiss off rough. Untamed, unlike his usual caution, he took. God, if it wasn’t one of the hottest things she had ever experienced in her life. The taste of his tongue in her mouth, her hands dropping the tie and going for his hair as she moaned into the embrace. He had her knees weakening, dipping into him so much that he gripped her body and sat her against the dresser. Wet, needy kissed being stolen from her mouth as his hands wandered her body. Moving up and gripping her thighs, spreading them as he took his spot to stand in front of them.

“All day.” He rasped, moving his kissed from her mouth to her jaw. “All fucking day, I was thinking about you bent over the counter in my shirt. Little tease.” Her whimper only fueled him as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin at the hinge of her jaw. “Sent me off to work with my cock aching for you, couldn’t get you off my mind. Had half a mind to take care of it in the bathroom stall, thinking about how perfect my mark looked on you… But I knew you’d be disappointed if I came home without the cum you wanted.”

His filthy mouth wasn’t a new thing to her but it managed to make her shocked every time. The lewd things that fell from her prim and proper husband’s devastatingly gorgeous lips never ceased to amaze and arouse her. No one else would be able to understand just what it did to her. It was a good thing Harry knew her inside and out.

“You could have stayed home.” She breathed, arching her body into his as his lip attacked her neck with a passion, leaving wet, sloppy kisses all over the expanse of sensitive skin. “I would have taken care of you. I just want to be a good wife, Harry… Would have done anything you wanted.” It was true. Of course, she wouldn’t admit to anyone else that she was a complete and total whore for him, but Harry was please enough to know just how weak she was for him. It made him feel better about his own weakness for the woman.

“Yeah, you would have liked that, hm? Having me stay home, let you service my cock? S’that what it was, Darling?” He cooed, biting down on the curve of her neck meeting shoulder. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly, a loud gasp leaving her throat as he bit down. The pain had her cunt fluttering around nothing at all, and the moment harry got down there would make it obvious just how true that statement was.

“I wanted.. wanted you to stay home and cuddle with me… and fuck me. Wanted to take care of you, cook for you… make you spoiled like you spoil me.” Her voice raised an ocatave as he began to suck on the skin. It hurt in the most exquisite way, knowing he was making a large mark on her. She would need to cover it or risk everyone knowing but she had a feeling that was harry’s goal. “Oh- oh god, that’s going to be seen.”

“That’s the point. Ran out in my shirt only this morning like a little slut.” He hissed, moving Down to a new spot. “If everybody is going to know you’re a slut… better make sure they know you’re mine. My well fucked, beautiful little whore.”

The wicked words had her simpering. He was right. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breath stolen from the scalding thoughts. “I’m sorry.” Her attempt at an apology was cut off by another gasp as he dug his teeth into another spot. “Fuck, Harry.”

“Filthy words for a filthy girl.” He smirked, sucking on the bite mark again. “Should have stayed home and used your mouth to keep me warm while I finished that crossword. You love being on your knees for me, don’t you Darling?” His lips made their trail south, tugging roughly on the top of her dress to expose her breasts to him. Immediately his lips found his mark from the night prior, licking over it obscenely. Y/N moaned, clutching at him like a lifeline at the rough treatment. “Or maybe I should have had you sit in my lap, tucked my cock inside of you while I finished it, hm? Could try and help me with that pretty little mind, and keep me happy with that precious cunt.”

Her head was foggy as he spoke, nipping at the supple flesh in between words. His blazing stare met hers as he sucked one of her nipples right into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip as she cried out. One thing about her husband was that he was generous with his tongue. In all circumstances. His hand held the other breast, thumbing over the other nipple before pulling back with a pop to switch. A heady growl made her eyes roll back, pinching the wet nipple with his fingers and pulling a little bit. The action sent her into a new space, knowing how badly she needed him.

“Please, please Harry.” She pleaded. “I would have done it. Would have let you use me all day long- I just want to make you happy. Please fuck me.” There was no pride for her to swallow here. There was only hunger for him.

Of course, he wouldn't make it that easy. His mouth moved from her nipple, licking away the string of saliva he left behind with a coo. “Oh, baby. I know you would. You always let me use this perfect body for whatever I want. You’re my wife for a reason, yeah?” He sunk down to his knees, leaning her panting as those large, warm hands began to lift up the skirts of her dress. Starting at the knees, she watched as he brought one further up and kissed her thighs. “Never.. get…tired… of you.” His kiss ended in another nip to her inner thigh, making her body jolt.

It was when he finally lifted her skirt up properly that he stopped his kisses. A sharp inhale was taken as his hands slowly pushed it up further, looking at her bare, wet cunt with a smoldering glare before transferring it up her her eyes. “Did you…” his rough voice cut right into her in the best way. “Go all day without anything on?” His face was almost showing agony, realizing he had went the whole day at work while she had been at home, just like this.

“Yes.” Her breathy reply hit him. “You could have benefitted… I was simply too worked up this morning.” Her hands stroked the hair that had fallen out of its worked fashion. “I didn’t want to keep changing them. So I went without. Besides…” she pulled his head to look at her. “One less thing for you to take off.”

“Fuck me.” He croaked, taking a hand from his head and making her hold the dress up. “Keep this up. You’re a mess. I need my dessert.” His words barely has time to hit her before he was on her. Wet tongue lapping hungrily over her slit, her hips jerking as he lost his control. There was no mercy just in this, and Y/N knew it meant thoughts and prayers were needed for her poor pussy later. She could barely keep her eyes open.

Her clit pulsed as her husband licked over it, groaning loudly as he held her thighs open for him. Her habit of squishing his head and using her thighs as earmuffs was too predictable now, and he wanted no limit. He could feel it against his tongue, giving thorough licks from drippy little hole back up to clit to try and get the sweeet taste of her memorized on his tongue. He was ignoring the throbbing in his own pants because right now, all that mattered was the mess he had to clean up and his favorite dessert being held open for him. “Fucking love this cunt.” He muttered against it, flicking his tongue back and forth in just the right way. Y/N squealed, holding on to his hair with one hand and struggled to keep her dress up in the other.

“Oh god, ooh god..” she panted, chest hot with pleasure as his tongue worked its way expertly on her. He knew how to lick her up, how to make her twitch, and each tiny push of his tongue into her entrance had her thighs quivering in his hold. “You make me so wet.” Her confession was met with a muffled chuckle, a deeper lick and her head thumping back against the wall. She had to have been blessed in a past life, feeling his tongue do the work. The man had no fear, nuzzling his face right into it as hos nose bumped her sensitive clit. He would easily be able to make her cum just by the repetitive movement his tongue was making right over her right now, but he had other plans.

He stood up with a wet face, not bothering to wipe her arousal from his chin as he kissed her again. “Taste it.” He snarled. “Taste how sweet you are.” Y/N was pathetic, grappling his hands around his neck and kissing him deeply. His mission to cover tongue with the sweet tang he loved so much being easily accomplished. No one had ever tasted so good. His hands grabbed under her thighs, picking her up to carry her the few feet to their bed.

It was a lewd sight. Y/N crumbled on the bed, thighs spread out and bare cunt and breasts on display for him. The most enticing thing he ever saw, his wife. His. Laid out just for his pleasure, looking up at his with desperation to make her cum. He always did, doing his duty as a husband. Providing her with a home, a heart, and orgasms. “God… look at you.” He saddled up between her legs again, hands gripping his belt as he began to undo it. “My pretty girl. Perfect little housewife, even better whore for me. Drive me absolutely mad, made me wait all day for you… you’re so greedy. But you’re lucky I’m just the same.” The sound of his belt being pulled through the loops sent anticipation through her body, watching him in hope. “And now you’re laid out for me, looking like a dream. I’m going to ruin you, my Darling.” His tone was loving, contradicting his threat. “M’gonna have to stay home tomorrow. Considering you’ll be useless for anything other than sucking me off. But I don't mind.” He shrugged, letting the clink of the belt falling on the carpet answer for him.

“I can cook for you, for a day. I can clean. But nothing compares to the feeling of your tight, wet cunt squeezing around me. Nothing sounds as good as your pathetic, sweet little cries every time my cock hits that spot.” The button to his pants unclipped, the slow drag of his zipper. He couldn’t bother getting fully undressed with the treat in front of him, letting only the pants fall to the floor as his shirt covered body knelt on the bed. “So I’m going to take my prize. Stuff you full of my cum and cock… and then I’m going to do it again and again until you can’t breathe.”

His hands caressed her thighs as they stayed spread open for her, sighing quietly as he abruptly tugged her closer to him. “Don’t be shy, darling. Moan for the neighbors to hear. They eat later than us so.. they can have dinner and a show.” His nasty smirk had her swallowing again, jolting as he fisted his cock and smacked it against her cunt. “Fuck.” He hissed, dragging it down to get the tip slippery. “Hold on, baby.”

It was then that she was full. The air stolen from her lungs as Harry slammed inside of her without warning. There was no time to scream, and the bite of pain was overcome with the pleasure of being stretched. His finger circling her clit as he watched her swallow him up, fluttering around him.

A stuttered breath left her throat as he wrapped a hand around her throat, dark green penetrating her gaze as the stretch of his cock made sparks of heat prickle down her spine. She was incredibly wet, not at all hard to get into but she was tight. Harry was quite gifted, and regardless of how many times he had been inside of her, it didn’t get old.

“H-Har-“ she tried to say his name, failing when he pulled out and thrust back in. The action was repeated, eyes on the glistening of his cock. She coated him in the taste he loved so much, making him groan as the perfect little thing pulled him in deeper, legs hooking around his waist.

There wasn’t much better than seeing his wife being pleasured. Those stunning eyes rolled back, his hand wrapped around her throat as he could feel her every breath. Her hands fisting the blankets as his held himself up above her, grunting with each heavy thrust. This was a long time due. He should have just stayed home today and had this, unlimited sex on tap because his wife simply craved him and his presence. If his work ethic wasn’t so strong he would be worried, considering his favorite place in the world was buried deep inside of her, but he had to indulge.

“That’s my perfect wife.” The rough words had her clenching around him, legs tightly secured to his body, keeping him as close as possible. Each thrust sent her jolting on the bed, almost a punishment for the temptation she had provided early in the day and a loss of what could have been. “Just lay there and take it. Jus’ like you were always meant to do for me.”

Harry was gorgeous like this. It was so unusual to see him unhinged, but she had broken the seal today. His teeth grit together, eyes wild, that perfect hair falling into his face as he worked himself into her. She could feel herself contracting around him, getting even more wet with every thrust. The sounds were filthy, the wet thump of his heavy balls against her ass, the slick squelch of each time he entered her, his deep grunts and groans mixed with her wanton whimpers… their passion was erotic, raunchy, and neither of them could get enough.

“Oh, oh… Harry.” She keened, pressing herself up into him. He had gotten the place he had wanted to be at, not minding the bed from knocking against the wall or the alarm clock falling to the floor. He had found the spot, continuing the rough thrusts as she writhed underneath him. “Thank you, thank you, yes… I love it. I love when you take me. I’m yours.”

The babbles were encouragement, Harry’s brow prickling with sweat as the grip on her throat tightened. Holding himself up with one arm, he bent down slightly to catch her mouth, tasting her tongue as the symphony of their sex got louder. Her repetitive whimpers against his mouth, the bang getting harder against the wall, his growling exhale as he ripped his mouth away from hers, ignoring the string of spit connecting their swollen lips.

“You’ll always be mine. Until the end of fucking… time.” Something lit him up, thrusts fast and hard as her thighs began to tremble. “Never fucking forget that. This body belongs to me. That mouth… these hands… that perfect fucking pussy… every bit of your pleasure” he snarled, giving punishing thrusts as she whimpered and writhed underneath him. “They’re mine. You’re mine, my beautiful girl.”

Her hands grabbed on to her husband, unable to do much other than lay there and take it before this. The delicious orgasm was taking her by surprise, a wet gasp alarming him to the goalpost being met. Every time he made her orgasm, he felt like he had succeeded. His job was perfect, he never wanted another one, and this one should come first. Her pleasure was his most important responsibility. The avid burn to always be with her was hard to extinguish, and even now he knew this wouldn’t be the last one he gave her tonight.

If he had one flaw, it was spoiling his wife.

“Oh my- Harry!” She sulked, mouth falling open as she thrashed on the bed, orgasm overtaking her. The constant stimulation to the perfect spot, his dirty talk, the hand squeezing the sides of her throat to give her the perfect head rush, all of it got to be too much as the ecstasy washed over her body. “Yes, yes- please.”

Y/N didn’t know what she was begging for, clawing at the collar of his shirt as his forehead rested against her own. “Give it to me? Give it. I want It inside of me. I want to have a baby, give me a baby.”

The demand almost stopped him in his tracks- but instead, it increased the pace, sloppy thrusts and the demand making his mouth fall open. They’d spoken about a baby before, many times. Hearing it in this context though? The thought of her swollen with his child, breasts heavy with milk, her being barefoot in the kitchen with a little apron over her stomach- it was too fucking much.

Maybe he was going to hell for having the visual making him feel the way it did. But he didn’t care.

“Fuck me… I’ll give you a baby, I’ll put one right inside of you. Breed you. That’s… fuck, Y/N.” He whined, releasing her throat, grabbing her hands and holding tightly onto them above her head as the gasping breaths unified, the smack of skin getting louder and his own thighs started to burn. He was feeling that lack of control only Y/N was able to coax from him.

“Give it to me? Give it to me, Daddy.” The desperate plea from his wife had his eyes on hers, her teeth bc sight between her lip as she felt him pushing as deep as he could. “Give me what you need. Breed me. Please. I love you.”

It sent him over the edge. The declaration of love, the meaning of it all, the new nickname, it had him burying as deep as possible as he let his mouth fall open against hers. Just inhaling one another as they felt the gush of his cum filling her up, some escaping but Harry not moving an inch. You couldn’t pay him to move from this current spot.

“I love you, darling.” He murmured, relishing in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Fucking. Whatever you’d want to call it, Harry was just happy he had done it. “Did so well for me today, my gorgeous wife. Couldn’t ask for a better one.” His nose rubbed against hers, sighing happily as she hummed at the affection. She was sticky as Harry’s cum was too much, seeping from where they were joined, but she never felt more at home.

“I’m glad I pleased you.” She gave her fucked out smile up at him, rewarded with his lips on hers yet again. “I do think I have more to do, though. I want to give you a child… and we will have to do it a few more times to make it stick.” Hair smoothed from face, sticky candy kisses, Harry’s deep chuckle.

“Good thinking, Darling. Roll over for me.”

“Yes sir.”

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iibonniee · 6 months

Text

Don't Look Away

Pairing: Lee Jooheon x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cum eating

Rating: R

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It was Jooheon who mentioned wanting to try something different

Masterlist | Tags: @beautifulworldandmore @kyunnielove @iamkyunie @doveslittlekpoparchive @dessianna1

It was Jooheon who had brought up the idea. It was abrupt, as all things seemed to be with him, but the idea was thrown out in the air as if it wasn’t something so blunt. His phone had caught his attention; one hand was lazily scrolling while the other rubbed her skin absentmindedly. She remembered what he said and how he said it almost too casually.

“We should watch each other masturbate.”

As far as Y/N knew, there was no building sexual tension to have sparked such an idea. She was well under the intention that her lover was bubbly and excited, having gone back and forth showing her silly videos he had found off his Instagram reels.

Her mind whirred, processing Jooheon’s proposition. He’d lightly tossed his bold suggestion into the atmosphere as if it were no different from the comical Instagram videos they’d been sharing. The transition was swift yet smooth, a testament to Jooheon’s ability to color outside the lines, to blur the boundaries between laughter and lust.

As Y/N mulled over his words, Jooheon’s fingers ghosted down her arm, his gaze dropping from his phone to fix on her face. His eyes, always so expressive, were filled with curiosity now, an inquisitive glint replacing the playful shine from mere moments ago.

“What do you think?” he probed, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with anticipation and masked apprehension.

Y/N found herself surprisingly drawn to the idea. There was no previous arousal or suggestive touch that might have topped the proposal. Instead, flurry of emotions stirred within her, yet curiosity, excitement, and love for him toppled her doubts. But the more she thought on it, the more she enjoyed the thought of it.

“Let’s try,” Y/N replied, setting the unusual, intimate experience in motion. His smile was all the consent she needed, and soon, their laughter-filled living room transformed into a bedroom filled with shared whispers, lingering touches, and a mutual journey that would deepen their connection.

A layer of sweat already enveloped Jooheon’s skin, making it glow like molten gold. It was a sight that stole Y/N’s breath, the droplets of sweat forming a dewy constellation— a testament to the anticipation thrumming through their bodies.

Stealing seductive glances and catching each other’s lust-filled gazes fueled their rising passion. The tension mounted, its intensity reaching a peak bit by risqué bit. Jooheon’s hand danced across his body, his movements soaked in a guilty familiar rhythm. His eyes never left Y/N’s, tracing her pleasure-stricken expression with dark satisfaction.

Y/N, too, found her rhythm, a rhythm that was as sinful as it was enthralling; the provocative sight of Jooheon and the awareness of his burning gaze heightened the electrifying sensations coursing through her veins like sinful wildfire.

The air between them crackled with raw intensity, trapping them in a potent mix of unrestrained desire, liberal passion, and the electrifying thrill of embarking on a journey into the unknown—just another steamy night within the thrilling expanse of fun. Their shared exploration fractured the bonds of normalcy, creating an exciting world tailored to their adventurous desires.

Each ragged breath and deliberate wriggle of their naked bodies was a lustrous beacon of sin, ensnaring them deeper into the forbidden vortex of their mutual ecstasy. Their desires were on raw display, each gasp and squirm an enticing invitation to partake further in the voluptuous dance of their shared pleasure.

The graphic unveiling of their unabashed desires, amplified by the exciting novelty of the situation, added a sinfully exciting layer to their explorations. Each glimpse into each other’s pleasure and every tantalizing touch magnified the deliriously wicked nature of their game.

“Feel good?” Jooheon broke the silence, his voice hoarse with desire. A throaty moan was the only response he needed, Y/N blushing at his words and the sharp flick of her wrist.

Trapped in their mutual stare and the intimate exposure of their own pleasure, they flirted daringly on the ridge of a climax, far more thrilling than any pleasure previously discovered. Their erotic experiment etched itself into memory, branding its lascivious mark onto the very essence of their bond. The potent mix of sin and pleasure was weaving a whole new, thrilling chapter in the story of their relationship, stark and unapologetic in its raw intensity.

Unabashed by their shared gaze and salaciously absorbed in their individual pleasure, they danced daringly on the brink of an orgasm far more intoxicating than anything they’d experienced prior. This carnal exploration, searing itself into their collective memory, left a tantalizing impression on their relationship’s foundation, forever changing its essence beneath the weight of their shared sin.

“Do you enjoy watching me get myself off to you masturbating, Y/N?” Jooheon finally dared to break the silence again, his voice as rough as raw silk and thick with desire. The sight of her lost in the throes of self-service was breathtakingly sinful, a sight he had branded into his memory. “Look how fucking soaked you are. You’re leaking all over the sheets, baby.”

“God... yes, Jooheon.” The flush creeping across her cheeks and the wetness coating her fingers offered the only necessary response, her voice shaky but determined, echoing their shared sentiments. Each gasp, each moan slipping from their parted lips, weaved a detailed tale of pure, unadulterated pleasure, unshared with anyone but them.

The intoxicating aroma of their shameless deeds was painting an exhilarating backdrop to their connection, resolute in its untamed intensity and wickedly appetizing in its passion. The forbidden moments they were etching together, mirrored in each gasp and soft moan, became permanent lines in the sketch of their relationship.

“Watch me, Y/N,” Jooheon commanded, his voice thick with rising pleasure. His grip tightened, his movements a tantalizing spectacle under her watchful gaze. His muscles flexed beautifully, highlighted further by the wicked tableau they were part of. “Watch me fuck myself while I watch you play with your pretty pussy.”

Captivated, Y/N echoed his actions, her own crescendo of pleasure reflected in this mirrored exploration.

“I can’t tear my eyes away, Jooheon,” she confessed, her voice trembling like caught prey. “I can’t stop watching you.”

It felt almost like when they would fuck over a Facetime call. Jooheon was never one to shy away from being vocal or wanting attention on him. And when he had his cock out, he made sure she was always watching what he was doing. She enjoyed it. She loved the way he would tease himself and edge himself. Or seemingly how perfect his cock was.

Their erotically charged exploration escalated, inching them closer to the precipice of sheer delight. Their gazes entrapped, shared sighs echoing in the space around them, the erotic symphony they stirred together was peaking— a sensual collage splashed with uninhibited submission.

The climax of their mutual fun infused their intimate adventure with a decidedly scandalous edge, painting a sight as seductive as it was sinfully raw, just like their video calls where Jooheon’s desire for attention, his devilish tendency for self-tease, always had Y/N mesmerized. The same captivating scenario was at play now, except they were not separated by a screen but by sweat-soaked sheets.

As the two of them grew closer, Jooheon’s breathing staggered, a foreshadowing tremor before the pleasure wave washed over him. The evidence of his release coated his hand generously. He was panting, glancing up at her through hooded eyes and a smirk.

“Taste it, Y/N,” he commanded, his pupils dilated and consumed by lust. His assertion left no room for resistance, the greedy command a testament to their uninhibited play. She watched as he scooped up every drop of his cum onto his fingers, making sure not to leave a single drop. “Drink my cum.”

Her eyes widened momentarily, a murmur of surprise escaping her. But she quickly complied, leaning over to take his stained fingers into her mouth. The tangy taste lingered on her palate, her own climax shattering through her moments later in response to the salacious scene they were part of. Her body quivered as waves of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her spent and basking in the shared decadence of their lewd dance.

“Fuck,” Jooheon groaned out, his eyes not once leaving her dripping cunt as she rode out her high. “You’re perfect. Fuck. I’m ready for more. More of you. I need you so fucking badly again.”

His whines filled the room as he grabbed her and pulled her close. His lips were on hers in seconds, greedy and eager as he grinded into her, his cock now hard and ready for more.

“I promise you, Y/N. Tonight I’m going to fuck you so good.”

#kvanity #monsta x imagines #monsta x x reader #monsta x smut #jooheon smut #jooheon imagine #jooheon x reader

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