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#I go BACK to my bath expecting peace
vcrnons · 7 months
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so. i just nearly died.
#shut up j#bugs & insect cw ahead#real. like actually real.#I was in the bath ok.#minding my business. consuming content. as a bitch does.#out the corner of my eye i thought I saw something flying but i checked and there was nothing so I just went back to watching this video#literally 30 seconds later. BIGGEST. MOTHERFUCKING. DADDY LONG LEGS. IVE EVER SEEN. flies around the shower curtain#the scream i scrumpt. was so loud. my mother ran upstairs thinking I was being murdered or some shit.#she bursts into the bathroom like WHATS GOING ON and I’m like THERES A DDL and she looks like she wants to kill#me herself.#valid honestly but [redacted] please some of us have phobias ANYWAY#so she’s like where tf is it and I looked up and I could see it on the window so I’m like right there GEDDIT. so she did.#I saw it fall out the window and we closed the window and everything was fine#I go BACK to my bath expecting peace#these fuckers said peace who I’m here to ruin your night because about 15 minutes later GUESS WHAT#ANOTHER ONE COMES ROUND THE SHOWER CURTAIN#I SQUEALED AGAIN BECAUSE OF COURSE I DID?????#and I stood up because it LANDED. ON. ME. so I’m trying to get it off and I’m gen about to start crying#and then it started flying towards me again so I screamed Again and stumbled and FELL. I FELL.#IN THE BATH. FUCKIN. WATER SPLASHES EVERYWHERE. IM STILL HYSTERICAL.#mum comes in AGAIN and is like BITCH. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. and I’m like THERES ANOTHER FUCKING—#and she’s more worried about her mf bathroom because the floor is like. to be fair. there is not a dry inch of floor. BUT HELLO???#let’s think about ME?????#so we got rid of the other one and the anticlimactic ending is that I washed my hair and am now sat in my bedroom with a sore throat#but Jesus fucking Christ#HAPPY AUTUMN I GUESS. DAMN. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#I need to sleep for 5 years
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pedge-page · 6 months
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Swim Lessons
Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: in Jackson, you find a creative way to get Joel to come to the lake to see Ellie swim.
Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, Joel calls you a slut or whore a few times, fingering, orgams denial, slight belly bulge, teasing, minor breeding kink (honestly I don't count it but maybe sorta), description of female reader body, low key perverted Joel, language, wet Joel is a warning itself.
18+ ONLY, minors DNI
- - - -
You were walking outside, planting flowers outside some of the main walkways when you had overheard the two of them through their kitchen window.
Ellie was begging Joel to teach her how to swim during their first summer at Jackson. There was a lake within the confines of the community that was open for fishing and, during the hot summer months, leisure swimming. What a luxury in the apocalypse.
"No."
"Please??"
"I said no."
"Wuss," Ellie mumbled under her breath.
Joel shot daggers at her, but he was not going to budge.
"Ain't going to no lake and getting my clothes wet just to watch you flail like a kid who can't swim."
"I AM a kid who can't swim, asshole. And you'd have to take your clothes off, duh."
Oh what a sight that would be.
Joel laughed out loud. "Even more reason I won't be there."
Joel turned around and noticed you leaning on the ground, your back turned towards him. He admired your silhouette, the little shorts and tank top covering your backside as you delicately turned over the soil and planted the bulbs. He was unaware that you could hear their conversation, but you were fully aware oh his eyes burning at the back of your skull.
Ellie noticed (she always notices--Joel can't help but make it so obvious when he's staring at you). "She'll be there too."
Joel scoffed, acting like be wasn't checking you out for three silent minutes straight. "Who?" He asks incredulously.
Ellie raised her eyebrows. "Bet she'll wear something cute."
Joel shook his head, acting uninterested. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute eying you up once again and trying NOT to think about the numerous bathing suits he could picture you In, all of which he'd be stripping you out of by the time the sun set.
You hear your name being called from the window by Ellie. You turn around and wave. Joel tries to dodge your eyes, a blush creeping on his face.
"Will you teach me to swim tomorrow at the lake?" Ellie asked.
"Of course!" You responded. "I'll be there at 3."
The next day, right at 3pm, Ellie was right on time. You were stretching along the sandy waterline, watching others kick around the shallow waters and diving into the depths. It was genuinely peaceful.
Ellie wore a full piece that ended in shorts, modestly covering her lower region. You could tell she was incredibly anxious to be standing around in such tight fitting and revealing clothes.
It pissed you that she was alone.
"He didn't come?"
"Said he would think about it. But he was going down for a nap when I left." She mumbled dejected. You watched her twirl her fingers anxiously, watching the dozens of kids and adults freely splashing around the water.
You knew having Joel here would help her confidence, knowing there was someone here who knew her more intimately. The one who taught her to shoot, hunt, and survive. But ultimately, having Joel here would give her someone to bully, and that was a huge confidence booster for the 14 year old.
"He'll come," you said, absolutely sure. "I'll go talk to him in a few minutes. Now let's just standing in the water for a bit, get you used to the temperature."
--
Joel was lying faceup on the couch, his arm propping his neck up against the armrest. He had no plans to go to the lake that day. The less he thought about you, the better off he'd be at resisting your temptations.
A fervent knock on the door startled him. Grumbling, he reluctantly got up from napping position and opened the door.
There were a million things he expected, but you standing there in the most revealing bikini, dripping wet all over his porch, fucking barefoot, was not one of them.
"Hey Joel!" You beamed. You could see his brain stop working as he stood there gawking at you like a fish out of water. "Ellie forgot her goggles so I'm just coming by to pick them up."
"Uhhhhh."
You had to suppress the smirk on your face as you pushed by him to jog upstairs to Ellies room. When you came back, making an obvious show of your breasts and ass bouncing down the stairs, you twirled the googles in your hand. "Got em!"
You made your way to the front door.
Joel still hadn't uttered a word. He was struggling to process what to say. He could be mad that you barged in without permission. Or that you were leaving water footprints all over the floorboards. But no, all that was on his mind was the way the water dripped down your wet hair, running down between the valley of your tits, your belly, cascading along your naval, between your legs. The way the bra did nothing but accentuate your supple breasts, pushing them up and together like they were tempting him. How gorgeous your legs looked with basically string over your hips, and the glistening of droplets against your skin just making you shine in the sun. The entire time he didn't even make eye contact with you, so unaware of the fact that he was staring at every inch of your body. His tongue slowly licked his parched lips. The only thing on his mind was bending you over his knee right now and beating you ass red--
"Ellie's making good progress. Shame you won't be there to see," you said, smile still genuine and sweet on your face as you went to the front door. He finally looks up to your eyes and blushes, quickly looking away.
"Yeah.... shame," he mumbles.
You wave goodbye--making even effort to have your tits sway with the movement, before hopping off towards the lake.
---
It takes all of 10 minutes for Joel to show up at the lake. You know it because Ellie, who was now doggy paddling in the shallow end, stood up and gave a low whistle. You were in the water with her, lying down to submerge your body, when you turned around. God, you wish you had a camera.
Joel stood in the sand awkwardly looking lost and out of place, beach towel in hand, flip-flops and (oh my GOD) actual shorts. You took a closer look, realizing this is the first time you've ever seen his legs (he's always wearing jeans) and notice they weren't swim trunks. They were fucking boxers. To your dismay, he was wear a short sleeves shirt, but none the less, this was most naked Joel had ever been in pubblic. And you could see the same nervous stance Ellie had when she first showed up too.
"Well aren't you pretty, you old fucker," Tommy muttered, whistling at Joel as well. He was sun bathing in his swim trunks, shirtless, with sunglasses.
Ellie bounced out of the water to come oogle Joel, making snide comments. Her attitude had improved immensely, just as you suspected.
"Yeah yeah, shut up." He groaned. "Where are your goggles?"
"What goggles?"
Joel stared at Ellie, then to you. He gave you a knowing, defeated look. You sunk down in to the water so he couldnt see your giggles. He sat down next to Tommy.
You came out, freshly soaking wet in your bikini.
Joel moved his beach towel to his lap, wrapping up towards his lower ribcage to conceal his belly, sitting there with hands by his side, legs bent, trying to hide his obvious boner from the world. Despite how much he eye fucked you earlier, he was doing his best to avoid looking at you now.
"So nice of you to come see Ellie, Joel," you teased. You sat down next to him, softly pressing your tits right against his muscle arm. The tips of his ears were bright red.
"You're supposed to take your shirt off and go swimming," Ellie said.
"M'fine right here. Ain't nobody need to see what's under here."
"Wuss," Ellie mumbled. Before Joel could tut her off, she was leaping back into the water. You and Joel were both extremely proud of the work she had made.
And yes, you could see the difference in her confidence now that Joel was here watching her. You both watched her splash some of the other kids, laughing and enjoying herself.
Without removing his gaze from Ellie, Joel leaned towards you. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?"
He hadn't noticed you had whipped the goggles out. You dropped them on to his lap, causing him to yelp as they grazed the tip of his erect dick under the towel. You snatched his glasses from his eyes and put them over your head, forcing him squint at you.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
- - - -
About two hours later, most people had gone home to enjoy a summer nap after a day at the lake. The sun was setting beyond the trees. Joel waved Tommy goodbye, leaving just him, you, and Ellie. You had fallen asleep under an umbrella (an umbrella Joel had to put over you so you didn't burn in the sun while you slept.)
He took his shirt off and slipped into the lake, encouraging Ellie to go deeper into the water, promising he'd be right next to her. You had awoken to both of them comfortably in the water together, Ellie splashing Joel and getting his fluffy hair all wet and tampered down. It made your heart swell to watch the two of them exist as they are without anyone else.
You did your job. Time to go home.
You had started rolling up your towel when Joel's wet hand reached out and grabbed you. You turned around and saw him dripping wet, finally shirtless. Fuck he was even more imposing with less clothing. His soft belly did nothing to lessen his broad shoulders and strong built. Your eyes drifted down to his boxers, now clinging to his muscle thighs and hips and the outline of his big fucking c---
Joel smirked to himself, seeing the blush creep on your face. He realized how the reversal of your roles from earlier still garnered the same reaction.
"Thanks again for coming to teach Ellie to swim," you piped, hoping it wasn't obvious the effect his body had on you for a change.
"You were the one teaching her most of it. Just came to watch."
"Me or Ellie?" You smirked.
Joel rolled his eyes. He would never admit that the main reason he came was to watch you strut around in that pathetic excuse of a bikini for hours. Once you had given him a taste at his front door and left, he botled upstairs, dug through his clothes, searching for swim trunks. He didn't want to see too out of the ordinary when he showed up to eye fuck you for the rest of the evening. Not having a single pair of swim shorts wasn't going to stop him from seeing you in your glory.
He glanced back down to your breasts (now realizing you were pushing your arms together to accentuate their plumpness right at him), licking his lips. Seductively bringing his darkened gaze back to you, you felt your pussy throb with need.
He clearbed his throat. "Well, I was wonderin' if you wanted to--"
Before he could finish, Ellie had slapped a hand on Joel's back, barging in the conversation. "I am soooo pruney! Anyway, thanks for teaching me to swim!" She wrapped Joel's towel around his shoulders.
You and Joel both say at the same time "You're welcome."
Ellie took one look at the pair of you before loudly announcing, "Im going to Dina's tonight. Bye!" Before running off.
And then there were two.
You shuffled awkwardly, avoiding his eyes by playing with the sand below your feet. "You were saying? Wondering if I wanted to ... get swim lessons from you too?"
"Ha. No. Sure you're a fantastic swimmer. No. Wonderin' if you wanted to come to my place tonight."
"Oh? What for?" You teased.
He leaned closer, his fingers dragging your chin so you stare up as he pressed his wet body against yours. He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth before answering: "'Cause I'm not fucking you in some nasty lake."
You gulp, never expecting him to he so forward. For once, he had you speechless while he enjoyed your freezed reaction.
You two had barely made it through his front door before he was shoving his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. Your lips were dry from the hours in the sun and water, but he was so thirsty for a taste of you that he couldn't care in the slightest.
"Teasin me all day with this fuckin bikini," he groaned, pulling the thin string that held your bilinki top together from the back. The top fell right off, his hands immediately replacing them to rub your breasts. "Knew these tits would be gorgeous," he moaned into your mouth, making you shiver. You closed your lips around his again, feeling his hands travel down your back till they reached your ass, giving a firm squeeze. "Can't believe you went out wearing a fucking thong and calling it a bathing suit."
"This IS a bathing suit," you laughed, licking his bottom pouty lip. "Least I didnt wear actual underwear."
He bit your earlobe, pressing you against the wall. "Gave you something to think about, didn't it?" His fingers were pushing your bottoms aside and rubbing along your soaked folds. You keened into his mouth, eyes closing with head thrown back. You could feel his hot breath on your face. "Fuckin knew you'd be soaked. Not just talkin about the water. Drenched cunt just from lookin at me, huh? Filthy slut."
Holy FUCK he had a mouth, and you couldn't help but feel more aroused from his words.
He continued to stroke your clit with his thumb, two fingers seaking your hole and plunging in at once. "Oh, fuck, Joel!"
He propped his knee between your legs, preventing you from closing them. He let you grind your pussy against his palm while he worked both fingers fast, curling, pulling then pushing in fast rythm, hitting your g spot with deadly precision.
"You like this?"
"Ah huh!"
"Say it."
"I like it! Oh J--m' gonna cum!"
Joel immediately withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the emptiness. "What the f--"
"Teachin everybody some lessons today." He kissed each cheek. "You're gonna learn not to tease me like that."
He continued to press his lips all over you you, refusing to put his fingers back on your aching clit. He resorted to grinding his wet bulge against your mound. You gasped at the sheer size of him, desperately needing that thing inside you.
Between kisses, you had gripped his hair which had now started to curl again around the roots. You managed to say, "Shower."
Joel scooped you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs. He placed you down in the bathroom slapping your ass.
"Take that rudiculous thing off," he ordered, nodding to your bikini bottom while he stripped off his own wet clothes off.
Your thighs clenched at the sight of his erect dick bouncing up to his soft tummy, standing tall, dripping a healthy amount of precum. It was flush red, angry at the tip, pulsing towards you. "See what ya do to me?" He wrapped a thick hand around the shaft, pumping it slowly while watching you. "Been like this all day cuz of you."
Your eyes never left it as you stepped backwards into the shower. He followed you in, shutting the curtains behind him.
While you turned on the shower and adjusted the heat, you could feel his lips met the back of your neck, slowly trailing down your shoulders and back up your spine. His stiff cock pressed between your silky thighs, rutting against your ass each time with desperate thrusts. You could feel your cunt aching at his earlier denial of your orgasm. You sigh heavily once the heat sprays you both. "Should get clean first before our mouths get too busy."
Joel nodded. You had lathered each other up, taking extra care to slick up his dick while he rubbed suds all over your ass, tits, and folds. He grunted, smiling when you would twist your wrist at the tip before fisting his cock repeatedly.
"Beautiful," he whispered against your lips.
His hand crept lower to your ass then down one thigh, hosting it up and around his hip as he drove your back against the slick wall. His other hand notched his cock at your entrance, teasing it.
"Gonna be a good girl and take this, yes?"
You bit your lip, avoiding his eyes. Of course you wanted to take that big fucker, ride his dick until morning. But you wanted to see how far he'd go just to "teach you a lesson."
Joel didn't like your lack of response. You felt a bot hand wrap around your throat, straitening you up. He pressed his face so close, his nose pushing against your cheek.
"SAY IT."
"'m gonna be a good girl, take your cock," you pleaded, unable to put up a farsce anymore. You smirked, and God, you were gonna be the death of him.
Joel impaled you on his full length in one thrust. You gasped, head slamming against the tile. "Ow!"
Joel's hand gently cupped the back of your head, rubbing the ache. "You okay?" He asked. He stayed still inside you.
You were so overwhelmed with how full you felt, how he just throbbed against your walls, that the pain in your head subsided quickly with his soft touch. "Just fuck me, pretty boy," you moaned.
He brought his lips to yours before beginning his assault, bringing both legs around his waist as he fucked you against the wall.
You had noticed it earlier when he emerged from the water with Ellie. How he'd run his hands in his wet hair, the wait it plastered smoothly against his head. It made him look both younger and older all at once. Mature and aloof, bold and serious, yet tender and like a playboy. It made you realize just how badly you wanted to be in this position right now, his cock ramming against your cervix, taking you like you were his.
"Little pussy so fucking tight, baby," he growled against your chest. "Fucking made to take my cock, ain't that right?"
You nodded again, whimpers and little shootings being the only sounds that could escape you.
As the water washed away the suds from your body, Joel took the opportunity to suck one breast in his mouth, biting your nipple. You dragged your hands into his hair, clenching tightly, wanting less, wanting more, wanting him.
His lower belly was grinding perfectly against your clit, your climax finding you quickly. "Joel," you warned.
"Go ahead, baby. You earned it. Cum on my cock."
And you were, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you cum, cum and cum, pent up from not just today but from the weeks and weeks you had been teasing, trying, testing Joel, just to get you here. You smiled sadistically, still on cloud nine, rubbing your pussy against him.
Joel glances down at the sight of his cock disappearing into your warm heat. "Ooohh f-fuck baby. Look at that."
You looked down with him, watching a slight bulge appear and disappearing against your lower tummy with each puncture of his cock deep inside you. He pressed a palm flat against it, your walls clamping down on his dick even harder. "So big, Joel. Fills me up so good."
"Yeah? Been thinking about this cock filling you forever, haven't you? Doing whatever to get me to fuck you. M gonna give it to you, sweet pea. Every fucking day. Every night. Just keep those legs spread f'me, ya hear?"
"Yes yes yes yes, oh God yes, Joel!" You could already feel a second orgasm building inside you. You leaned back further into the wall, leveraging yourself to help bounce on his cock with each thrust.
"Little whore. Fucking yourself on my cock like that. Gotta ride my dick like this later tonight, okay? Ain't gonna last much now. Been needing you too much." He was grunting into your shoulder now, letting out needy groans as he neared his end. "Where do ya want?"
You shouldnt. Should be smart about this. Especially your first time with him. Especially in the apocalypse. Especially without any protection. But Your body had a mind of its own now, that familiar feeling climbing higher and higher deep inside you. Your ankles hitch around his back, caging him against you, reducing him to shallow, deep thrusts inside.
Joel could feel your tight draw to him. He smiled against your neck, thrusts picking up pace. "Tell me. Need to hear ya say it."
You gripped his hair again, making him moan, yanking him back to look you in the eyes. "Want your cum inside me, Joel Miller."
He drove his hips into yours like a mad man, fucking himself as deep as possible, teeth gritting, never once breaking eye contact, and then suddenly the both of you were seizing up, eyebrows scrunched together, mouths agape but pressed together as your orgasms washed over you. You could feel hot ropes of his cum pump deep inside, one, two, threefourfive--six healthy strings of pulses, emptying his load into your womb.
You both panted loudly, the only other sounds being the steady cascade of water down the drain. Joel peppered your lips in light kisses as you both came down from your highs. You could hardly form your lips to return the kisses, instead now realizing just how light headed you were feeling after the best cum of your life. Joel felt your legs loosen, barely catching yourself, as his cock slipped from your embrace. Strong arms didn't let go of you, watching as your eyes close, blissfully, your skin hot from the water.
He turned off the water and carried you to the bed, gently lying you down. He dried you up with a towel, with extra care against your battered pussy. Copious amounts of his cum was leaking, and he had to restrain himself from putting his hot tongue between your legs to clean you up, enjoy the taste of both of your mixed cum bit more. No, you were half passed out, skin aflamed from the hot shower. You needed tending.
He disappeared from the room for a moment, naked wet ass and all, before reappearing with a bottle.
"Need to start hydrating more if you're gonna be out in the sun all day, lady." He helped tilt your head up so you could take gulps of much needed water. You broke away to breath heavily, some water slipping down your chest. Joel didn't hesitate to drag his tongue up your skin, sucking the water off. You smiled dreamily.
"That's what you're here for."
- - - -
You napped, fucked again, ate, sucked his cock, then he ate you out, fell asleep, and then woke up with his cock buried inside you again.
The next morning, Joel got an angry Maria banging on his door, cussing him out for using too much water for your extra long shower yesterday, causing a shortage of heat and fresh running water for the surrounding 6 homes.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)
And happy holidays!
Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3
modern au
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.” 
“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home. 
You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop. 
A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful. 
“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.” 
You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain. 
The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you. 
You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view. 
“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?” 
You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?” 
“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?” 
You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly. 
Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?” 
You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice. 
“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head. 
“Not bad,” you murmur. 
“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.” 
You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.” 
James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly. 
“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?” 
You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.” 
You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.” 
James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was. 
“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”
“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.” 
Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under. 
“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.” 
Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes. 
There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder. 
“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?” 
“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly. 
“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.” 
“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch. 
“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?” 
“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”
“No,” you all say, you rather mopily. 
You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side. 
“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?” 
A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep. 
“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.” 
James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?” 
“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.  
“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.” 
You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod. 
“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”
You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”
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The Quiet Ones 3
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: I really gotta finish my paper (don't worry I'm like 3/4 done).
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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The light is there again. Bright, green, searing into your vision as it shines against the wall, weaving in perfectly between the curtains. Every night. Taunting you. And in the morning, gone. 
Can you call it a pattern after only three days?  
You don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what he wants from you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would by now, wouldn’t he? Or is this a sick game he’s playing? Whatever it is, it’s madness.  
You sit up and grab your pillow. You cross the room to the door and close it behind you. You put the pillow on the couch and pull down the folded throw across the back. You don’t expect to sleep out here either but you won’t have to stare at the insufferable dot. 
You lay down on your back and sigh at the ceiling. You stare up at the plaster until your eyes close on their own. Your shoulders are tense, your back too, every muscle in you has been knotted for days. You tried a hot shower, even a bath, but both just made you feel vulnerable. You’ve never been overly comfortable being naked but now you feel as if he can see your every movement. 
You tried some exercises in an effort to loosen up too. Those only made you dizzy due to your lack of sleep and rationing. Those should be a sign for you to rethink your strategy but your only other option is to face the danger. You know better than that. 
You huff as the last gray days pile on you. You open your eyes and bring your hand up to your forehead, trying to rub away the stress. You pause as a gleam flashes over your flesh. You drop your arm back down and raise yourself on your elbows. 
Jeez. 
Right there in the middle of your chest is the dot, rather a sliver of it. You look up as it glints in between the verticle blinds. You drop back down. Fine, whatever, if he’s going to shoot, he should just get it over with. You hate this limbo. It’s easy when you know what you’re waiting for. This is just torture. 
A sudden jarring jingle cuts through the din. You sit up, heart beating. It isn’t the deafening gunshot you expected. The green laser ripples through the darkness as you stagger up to your feet and cover your ears. You follow the blaring noise into the bedroom. 
Your phone lights up on your nightstand, flashing as you cross the space. You grab it and quickly silence it, staring at the screen in confusion. You keep your phone on silent, always. You never really use it for more than your banking and emails. On the screen, you see a map of your neighbourhood and a speck pulsing at the centre; your apartment. Huh. 
You remember dismissing that feature before. Several times when you got the phone it kept offering to set up the ‘find your phone’ app but you figured you wouldn’t need it. Yet, here it is, chiming and chirping at you. It isn’t a coincidence. It’s him. 
You peer over at the window and the green glare pours through. You look down again and find the dot right there. You shake your head and back away, hugging yourself as you flee back into the living room. It’s all so messed up and confusing. You don’t get how this can be happening. 
You go into the kitchen. No windows to haunt you there. You put your phone down and lean on the counter as you hold your head. You blow out a breath and you close your eyes. 
You try not to let yourself ask the questions but you’re so tired, you can’t keep fighting this hard. Who is he? How did he find you? Was that day at the cafe the first? Were you so obtuse that you never noticed him before? Does any of it matter? 
The silence shatters again as your phone erupts in a cacophony once more. You back away and cup your ears. You’ve never done well with noise, especially loud noise, or too much at once. It’s a sort of dissonance that makes your head spin. 
You scramble to grasp the phone, eardrums pulsing, and you hit the button again to hush it. You close out of the app and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. For a moment, you’re confused. The only messages you get are obvious scammers or stupid adverts you need to unsubscribe from. 
‘Get some beauty sleep.’ 
You scowl as you stare at the text. What does that even mean? Even if the number is private, you don’t need to guess. You know it’s him. He’s messing with you. You won’t respond, not even in writing. You delete the conversation entirely and shut the phone off. 
You leave it on the counter and go back to the couch. The laser awaits you. You lay down under it and resign yourself to your fate. The only comfort is he’s still out there and you’re in here. A ripple of fear courses through you as you wonder how long that can last. 
👄
Your mail doesn’t come to your door. It’s left in one of the dozens of metal boxes near the front door. Typically you go down to grab it twice a week. You haven’t gone once in the last six days. You don’t plan on it either. You get digital statements for everything anyhow. 
Yet, that doesn’t stop the special delivery from sliding underneath the door. You’re in your kitchen when you hear the soft whoosh. You go to the doorway and stare at the envelope on your floor as you lazily stir your instant coffee. You’re too tired to react with more than a yawn. 
You think it could be a notice from the building. They usually leave one when they have to do an inspection. Yet, there’s not sign of the rental companies logo and the envelope is black. You doubt they’ve rebranded. 
You sip from your coffee and sit at your desk. You login to the portal and open up a task. You don’t need to worry about all that. You muster all you have left for your daily toil. It’s the one thing you can’t forego; the one thing you share in common with other people, you need money to survive. 
You empty the coffee with careless gulps as you key through several tasks. The hours drag by, the clock ticking in the corner of the screen, second by second, minute by grueling minute. The days don’t matter, they all blend together in this hazy purgatory. 
You’re drawn from your mindless typing by the agonising growl of your stomach. You’re starving. Those times when you do let yourself eat, it isn’t much. Finally, your humanly needs have overcome your lack of appetite. You can’t deny it any longer. 
You return to the kitchen with your empty mug. You go to rinse it and water spurts forth, for just a second, then the pipes grind and run dry. You put the cup in the sink and cross your arm. You march out to the bathroom and try the sink in there with the same result. The faucet in the tub runs a little longer but peters out to a single drip. 
Hm, maybe that’s what the letter’s about. 
You sweep back out and scoop up the envelope. Just bending down makes you see stars. You put it on the counter and go to the cupboard to take out the salted crackers. You unfurl the top of the sleeve and wiggle one out. You munch on the stale square and slip your thumb under the flap of the envelop and tear. 
You put down the crackers and rip open one end of the envelope. You shake out the contents. It isn’t a letter. Just a folded pamphlet with something smaller inside. You unfold the spa booklet to uncover the all-inclusive pass within. You drop both and grip your head. 
Is this some sort of bribe? Bait? He’s trying to draw you out and with what? The worst experience you could think of? The smells, the touching, the people... 
You put it all back in the envelope. You don’t want it. You don’t even want it in your apartment. Your safe space. He’s invading it little by little. He can’t have it.  
You go to the door and shove it back under the bottom. You push it as far as you can and fall back, catching yourself on the wall. Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re afraid. You just want everything to go back the way it was. You want to be alone. That’s all you ever wanted. 
👄
You use your phone to authorise the two-factor sign-in to your bank account. You set it aside after confirming and wait for the screen to load. Your heart nearly stops as you see the balance. A few times you came too close to the red but this is not what you’re expecting. There’s about fifty thousand dollars extra. It has to be an error. 
You click on your chequing and bring up the next screen. There is is ‘50,000’ in bold green letters but it doesn’t say where it’s come from, just ‘authorised payment’ next to it. What the heck does that mean?  
Right below it you see your work deposit. That appears as usual. Company name, amount, account number. So what happened? 
You click the chat icon at the bottom of the page and wait for an agent to connect. You go through the typical automated questions; what is your issue? Account number? All of that. When you finally have a representative and explain the extra zeros in your account, the response is only three dots. 
You shake your head. You don’t need this. You have enough going on. Your water’s still out, you’re almost out of coffee, and you haven’t even started work. Halfway through and it feels like you’ve only just started a new week. You frame your face as you await the response. 
‘Hello, miss. Thank you for your patience. We have found no error in this transfer.’ 
You lean back and whine. That doesn’t make sense.  
‘Can I know where the money came from?’ You type. 
‘The payee is listed as London Fog LLC. It appears to be a business payment.’ 
You close your eyes. What? That makes no sense. It... can’t be. 
‘Can you reverse the payment, please?’ You input. 
‘We can attempt to reverse this. This might take a few days to process. We will keep the ticket open until this is done.’ 
‘Thank you.’ 
You close out the chat. That’s as best as you can do. It’s all so weird and you can’t deny the nagging truth. It’s not an error or a coincidence. It’s that stranger. He is playing a very confusing game. 
Your phone lights up and your eyes flit down. You lean in to glimpse the notification before it minimises. ‘Happy hump day <3’. You quickly black out the screen and flip it over. Leave me alone! 
👄
You almost expect the knock on your door. Deep down, you knew it was coming. Noon, on the dot. It’s Wednesday. 
“London Fog express!” He calls through. “Ew, this one’s gone a bit bad.” 
You hear him shifting around before the handle turns without give. He wiggles it and sighs. He huffs and you can tell by his shadow he’s leaning on the door. 
“Look, jellybean, I came all the way here, even burnt myself on this thing,” he says through the door, “you know, I’ve had some late nights...” he pauses as you sit silent, unmoving at your desk. “You don’t have to do more than open the door and take the cup. Promise, I won’t try nothing. I mean, I’ve been pretty patient, haven’t I?” 
You press your fingers to the edge of your desk to keep from shaking. 
“Right, I guess... I haven’t even introduced myself. How forgetful. Name’s Lloyd, but you could call me like L or love bear or... snookums. Something sweet like that.” 
You can’t. You’re going to pass out from absurdity. This man is psychotic. 
“You know, I’m a pretty handsy—handy guy. I could fix that water issue you got going on--” 
Holy cow. How does he know—how could he? He wouldn’t be able to just shut off your water. Right? 
“See, I get you, baby face, you’re the quiet type. You like to keep to yourself. That’s fair but everyone needs someone. I see that now,” he rambles through the door as it groans against his lean, “I didn’t before. Then I saw you and everything changed. It’s me and you, cupcake.” 
You stand and shudder, walking stiffly around the corner and towards the door. You step up and try to see through the peep hole. It’s still black. You exhale and sniff. 
“What do you want?” You croak. 
Silence. The door shifts as he takes his weight off of it. He soles scuff on the other side. 
“Hi,” his voice softens, “how are you, jellybean?” 
You close your eyes. You just want an answer. You cross your arms and rocks, a soothing gesture as your nerves bubble up. 
“Yeah, that’s okay, I know you’re not much of a talker. We balance each other out like that. I’m doing okay, you know? Cafe was a bit crowded but I got your latte. Foam shouldn’t have fallen yet so if you just want to open--” 
“What do you want?” You step closer to the door and raise your voice. 
He scoffs into a hum, “isn’t it obvious, babes?” 
You open your eyes and bit your upper lip. 
“You, baby cakes. Simple as that,” he drawls, “so why don’t you grab your tea and we can have a little sit down.” 
“Go away.” 
He huffs and clicks his tongue, “don’t be like that, sweetie.” 
“I don’t know you--” 
“I’m Lloyd, your love bear--” 
“Stop. I want you to leave me alone.” 
Another sharp exhale from the other side. A lull that prickles across your skin. 
“I can’t do that.” 
You wince, “please...” 
“All you have to do is open the door, jellybean. You know I’m a good guy. I’ve been looking out for you. Every night,” something drags down the door. “You can’t lock yourself away forever.” 
You step back and lean on the wall weakly. He’s delusional and you’re so tired. You’re almost tempted to open the door just to get it over with. You sink down onto your butt and hug your knees. 
“No.” 
That’s all you say. It’s all you can eke out.  
He taps on the door lightly and sucks his teeth. “Well, guess I gotta amp up my game.” 
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First time posting a headcanon so I'm kinda nervous but I'm give it a shot ( BTW ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE )
So I got a random headcanon about the lin kuei bros ! But Cats AU :D
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Okay okay imagine living in a house with a three Cats you just found them homeless on the street and feel sorry for them so you took them in ... Orange cat, Gray cat and a black cat in your house
And if you're going to ask me how did all turn into a cats... Then the answer is Shang Tsung... Don't ask how ... It's just Shang Tsung that mf turned them into a cats ... Maybe just to laugh at them....
Anyways living with the Lin Kuei cats it's the best thing!! If you manage to gain their trust ..... Only with Tomas and Kuai tho.. You don't wanna get near Bi-han... Trust me... This bitch would give you a new scrach everyday... He's the kind of the bratty cat
Hiss 24/7 when every you get closer to him
Sometimes attack you and you'll have either Tomas or Kuai trying to stop him... Or both of them by pulling him from his tail....
Man he's a cat with trust issues so it's gonna take a while until you gain his trust
But to be honest... I believe Tomas would be the first one would Trust you... After seeing you how you're so caring to all of them... Even his brat older brother
He will be the type to be a clingy cat that's how I imagine him
When ever you sit down expect him in less then a second to be on your lap.... (HE'S SO ADORABLE KWHWKWJEJ)
Also whenever Bi-han give you a new scratch Tomas would be the one treating it... By licking it.... He's trying to apologizing instead of his bro
Like "I Apologize for my brother action.... He's just like this all the time... Here let me treat your wounds! " but in cats language...
Tomas is loves cuddles as well whenever you go to bed he'll climb up next to you and sleep
He's so wholesome
As for Kuai Liang... He's a calm cat... When you first let them in... He won't do anything just watching you around...
He's believe in 'Action speaks Louder then words' so he'll only trust you by you're action... And since you are so caring about them... And can take his Older brother's behavior he can tell you're a nice person so he will trust you a little... Still calm tho
Likes to sit besides you if you were watching TV or reading a book whatever you're doing he'll sit next to you... Either sleep or watching what are you doing
Btw when you go to bed he will be sleeping next to your head... He loves your hair... He think it's soft so sometimes when you woke up you'll find him sleeping on it like a pillow .... If you have a short hair he will be leaning on your head
He will try to convince his brother that you're harmless and never meant to hurt them but it's not working... Bi-han thinks if he give you a little cance you might going to stop him on his back or betrayed him...
Man the last time you were trying to wash them all.... It went well with Kuai and Tomas they both let you wash them peaceful.. Somehow Tomas was playful in the water and it got you confused actually for both of them... Them were so calm for cats begin in the water.... You didn't think about you just that's they might have got used to water somehow... Or they are a special cat who would give no pain in the ass to their owner when they are washing them
Anyways after finish the and dry them off you turn you're head to the last target .. Bi-Han ... man if you Know anime JJBA you will know what I mean when I say the fight you just had with bi-Han is the same fight between Jotaro and Dio trust Man and all of this happens while trying to get him into the bath top... You got.. A lot of scratches A few were on your face as well not only a just scars you have got but you had too chase him around the whole house whenever you get closer to him will attack you and hiss so good luck with washing him...
But if you manage to gain his trust (and it's a hard challenge trust me) he will be less aggressive ... Might even let you pet him (he will try so hard not to purr) doesn't attack you anymore... But he will always be cold with you...it's just his way of showing he trust you btw at rare times you'll find him sleeping next to you on the bed.... All the time he prefers to sleep alone
This is so random I just wanted to make some headcanons but always so nervous to post it but right now I decided to give it a shot.... Plz don't hate me of you don't like it ;-;
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gentaro-kinniecom · 3 months
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Let’s talk about it
Characters: Xavier/fem!reader
C/w: 1.5k! First person pov (read at your own risk..) soft sex, couch sex, cowgirl position, sex therapy(?), rough sex (ish?) dick piercing..
A/n: A mishap occurred, I got an anonymous request to write about Zayne coming home from work and having sex with the reader as a way to de-stress..and I read that as Xavier so I apologize but that fanfic is now in the making so don’t worry anon your fic is in process ;)
Hearing the house keys jingling against the front door, I was quick to get up on my feet to receive my loving boyfriend with a hug and warm smile that he always loved. However, upon opening the door, Xavier’s face looked..exhausted. He tried his best to smile and greet me like he’d normally would but I knew something was up.
“Good evening..should I go run the bathtub while you settle in from work?” I asked softly while holding his free hand as the other rubbed his eye, a sign of sleepiness while Xavier yawned.
“That would be..wonderful my dear, I hope it’s not much of a trouble for you” He said, almost apologetically as I kissed him, that was enough to reassure him that I was fine with it. After the bath was prepared, I called Xavier into the bathroom, placing some final touches like his favorite fragrance to the water and a bathbomb to accompany it, hints of lavender and mint infused the room while he entered, sighing, almost at peace.
“I hope this helps you relax a bit, we should talk about your day once you’ve refreshed yourself” Xavier nodded, not having the strength to answer as he kissed my forehead. I decided to then heat up some leftovers from yesterday’s dinner that ended up with kisses and cuddling at a late hour, though nothing happened unfortunately. The stress of being able to help many people was getting to Xavier, little by little until it all built up. Without having anything to do while waiting for the food to reheat, I walked by the bathroom, listening to the moans and grunts from inside, trying to peek from the small door crack. He looked so blissful after his orgasm that I nearly forgot the food on the stove. Just as I ran towards the kitchen, Xavier finished showering, a more relaxed face upon his features as he held his towel, looking my way
“Is everything okay? Did you burn the food again..?” He asked, sighing while going towards the laundry room and the living room soon after.
“No…? Okay, almost but it’s fine really!” I replied, sighing as he settled in the small love couch we’ve spent many nights on, the memories coming back to me as I prepared our plates for dinner. It was in that same furniture that I had my first orgasm, he was so gentle and caring; like he’s always been of course. Snapping out of my thoughts, I handed Xavier his plate while we watched an episode of our favorite series.
We finished dinner quicker than expected and all of our attention was taken away by the tv; or at least Xavier’s. I found myself staring at the choice of pants he wore, gray sweatpants that were usually not worn by him and shoved into the confines of our shared closet unless a special event came up. Without realizing, he chuckled softly, lowering the volume of the television as Xavier grabbed my hand.
“You’re staring, is something on my face? Or rather, my pants?” Oh. I knew he wasn’t that dumb or oblivious to anything I did, Xavier was always so attentive to any small details, whether it was my appearance or a change in my mood; It was so difficult hiding anything from him.
“Have you ever thought of talking about your problems or day while having sex?” I inquired, his face softened, has he dreamt about this before? Before I could even return back to my normal thoughts, Xavier already pressed my body against the sofa. His mouth nipped at my neck, traveling down towards my collarbone while responding.
“All the time, but, I never knew if you were into that, you know the last thing I would do is make you uncomfortable, right?” His soft lips met mine in a quick but gentle gesture. My arms wrapped themselves around Xavier’s neck, caressing his hair while making out with him. The friction between our clothes was enough to leave me whining against his mouth.
“I..know but, would you like to try it, today?” I paused, coincidentally at the same time he stopped feeling me up to look into my eyes with a smile, something telling me it was the beginning of something great for us.
“It’s all up to you, it’s not necessary to have sex just to talk about stuff, however..it would help out in other things..” Xavier’s hands took control of my thighs, wrapping them around his clothed waist as he began to mimic what it would feel like if we were fucking at that moment, in other words, teasing me. With his consent, I grabbed the hem of his sweatpants, (after briefly hustling to get him under me) admiring the way his cock sprung out while tossing the pants and underwear aside.
“I’ve missed this..truly.” He chuckled at my remark as I kneeled, grabbing his thighs while deepthroating him in one go, nearly gagging on his cock. Hearing my boyfriend moan was absolutely rewarding, especially since the piercing he had was indeed sensitive to each small touch given to it; the small prince albert piercing was enough to make my mouth drool. Bobbing my head up and down, his hand grabbed a hold of my hair, pressing my head onto his dick while grunting.
“T-that’s it..! Ah..please..! I’m gonna-!” I parted away from his cock, giving it a few more strokes. His cum shooting across my face in long white streaks; Xavier’s face was a bit red, mostly due to his overstimulation and embarrassment, making me chuckle as he leaned down to kiss me.
“This is..far from over, you know that right?” He nodded, allowing me to sit on his lap all pretty while he helped me get rid of his cum on my face. Moments later, I sunk onto his dick, pressing my hands against his shoulders for support while his hands grabbed my waist, letting him do all the work of thrusting into me.
“Work was so..ngh..tedious today. I had to deal with so many..people- ah fuck..! All so that I could come back to see you” Xavier explained how some wanderers attacked one of the bases that had vital information in. His thrusts became quicker and loose as he kept venting of his day. A sharp thrust made me moan as the highlight of his day was told.
“But..nothing ever beats coming here and wishing to fuck you like this every..single..day. Oh, c-can I?” He asked so softly, his voice nearly a whisper as I nodded, hips rutting to meet mine feverishly while cumming deep inside. Our lips met again, not wanting to let go as Xavier hugged me tightly, wanting to spend some warmth together.
“Feeling better now? If not, you know there’s always round two for more; both ranting and fucking” I spoke, breaking the silence of the room while Xavier’s eyes grew with lust. He smiled while pushing me onto the couch one last time, still connected while lazily thrusting forwards against my overstimulated and stuffed pussy as I moaned.
“Oh so you want me to keep going?” I nodded, my hair splayed against my back, moving sometimes; especially if Xavier thrusted harshly while telling another one of his encounters of the day. After another couple of rounds, he nearly collapsed into my embrace as I chuckled, kissing him to wake Xavier up while he smiled.
“Wait here, I’ll be back” Whispering, Xavier left momentarily after kissing me softly, pulling out from my cunt as I whined. It seemed he was looking for a towel or something to take care of me afterwards. However, I heard the shower run as he came by to carry me towards it.
“You didn’t have to..a towel would’ve been fine” I spoke, sighing in relief as my body made contact with the warm water, my eyes drifting over to Xavier’s body that joined mine in the tub. He clasped my hand softly, kissing the top like a gentleman.
“Of course I had to, I shouldn’t hesitate to take care of you at all times.” His gaze softened upon meeting my own. Lips crashing into one another as he chuckled, pressing my hand against his soft abs while speaking.
“Seeing you like this makes me crave another round..” I smiled, getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around my body while Xavier did the same but around his hips.
“Weren’t you tired a few moments ago?” His laugh made me laugh alongside him. We got dressed in our favorite couple’s pajamas, my body pressed against Xavier’s as he wrapped his arms around me. A small yawn fell from his lips, murmuring something that made me smile
“I am now..goodnight my dearest” Xavier’s head rested upon my chest, serving as a pillow while a hand grabbed one of then, as long as he was comfortable, nothing could ever disturb me.
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msgexymunson · 9 months
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Forbidden Fruit Part 4
Description: Your relationship with Eddie is all consuming. How will you deal with the aftermath? 
A/N: I love this series, this Eddie, and you lot. You're beautiful and I love you. My God, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please comment, please reblog. I’m not always responding due to my mental health but I see you and I love you I promise. 
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, this isn’t for you babies, p in v unprotected sex (surely you know this by now) Age gap, Eddie is 43, reader is 21. Violence, I’m not saying more I don’t want to ruin it ;) 
4k words 
Masterlist   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3 Part 5
Light dapples through the hotel curtains, uncovering swirling dust motes in the air, dancing in front of your vision. Yawning, you feel warmth and safety; Eddie's side flush with yours, your legs entwined in a sleepy embrace.
His breathing is slow and deep. As your hand rests lightly on his chest, you can feel it. In, and out. It's comforting, a comfort that reaches into your bones and warms them from the inside out; your entire being at peace. The skin on his chest is soft, a slight spackling of chest hair lays under your hand. Unconsciously, you're already running your hand through it, fingers stroking his inked chest. 
Hair splayed on the pillow underneath him in an angel's halo, his lines are finer, relaxed. He looks so peaceful and content that it makes your heart swell. A smile plays at your lips, one that touches every part of you. A perfect moment. 
The steady breathing changes, and he moves beneath you, a rough hand reaching up to stroke your shoulder.
"Mornin' sweetheart." 
His voice is gruffer than usual, enriched with sleep, the deeper cadence unknown to you before this moment. God, you would do anything to hear it every morning. 
"Morning baby." Returning his greeting with a croaky one of your own, he wraps his arms around you tighter, almost possessively. 
"This is nice." 
You purr your approval, tightening your own grip around him. 
"So, breakfast?" You ask.
"Five more minutes." He replies, pulling you on top of him to deepen the hug. 
********************
The day was spent together, being the couple you never got to be in the real world. Breakfast at the hotel was delicious, you held hands until it got in the way of eating. Then a drive, where he took you shopping and bought you a dress just for you to wear tonight. You told him you'd pay for it but he insisted. Lunch at a quaint cafe in town was just perfect. Then a walk, arm in arm as you explored the place. 
Back at the hotel, you were taking advantage of the suite he'd booked, soaking in an enormous bubble bath you're pretty sure you could do a few laps in. You had invited Eddie to join you, but in his words, 'if that happens we're never gonna eat dinner sweetheart.'
Drying off, you get ready for your date tonight. The other bra and panty set you bought just for Eddie resides under the beautiful purple satin dress he had bought you, along with your own hold ups and heels. Piling your hair high on your head in the fanciest updo you can manage without a team of hairdressers, you frown at your reflection. Not perfect, but good enough. 
Mascara, a soft eyeshadow, and a lipstick to compliment your skin tone completes the look. Transfer proof, of course. You were going to dinner with Eddie after all. 
As you're spritzing perfume, you hear Eddie's deep muffled voice from the other room. 
"You ready princess?" 
"Yup, coming." 
Breathe, it's Eddie, why the hell are you nervous? 
But this is the first date you've been on with him really. Butterflies flutter in your stomach in expectancy. Exiting the bathroom, you lock eyes with your date. 
Eddie looks good. Ridiculously good. He's handsome, that's a given, but seeing him in a suit? Fucking hell. 
The black suit jacket he's slung over his shoulders looks expensive, clearly tailored to him, with matching dress pants. A black shirt with a slight sheen to it clings to the muscles on his torso, it might be satin, or silk. He's even wearing smart shoes; they gleam in the light. No tie, you notice. Not that it surprises you, he doesn't look the type to even consider a tie, even for the most formal occasions. Not that you miss it; the top buttons of the shirt are undone, showing off his chest tattoo and a thick silver chain. 
"Eddie, you clean up good." You smile. Real good. 
"Sweetheart, fuck me…" He's frozen, staring at you. 
"Eddie, you've seen the dress!" You laugh, walking towards him. 
He stumbles back, holding his hands to his heart as if you shot him. 
"But I didn't know you'd kill me when you put it on!" He exclaims, dramatically falling to one knee. 
"Eddie…" you laugh, walking toward him.
"I don't know… if I can… go on." He breaks down on the floor, hand outstretched in a silent dramatic plea. 
"Eddie you idiot!" You giggle, grabbing his hand and pulling him upright. 
You're impossibly close now, bodies an inch from touching. All joking forgotten, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you close. Hot breath fans across your face as his lips nearly touch yours. 
"We better go to dinner. You look so, so, sexy, that if we don't…" a kiss is forced onto your waiting mouth, full of longing. 
"I'll hike this dress up and fuck you against," stopping to look around, he points, "that wall." 
Your fingers wrap around his, bringing them to your mouth. 
"Maybe later." 
"Hmm, promise?" 
"Promise." 
Tugging him toward the door, he huffs dramatically, flinging his head back like a toddler. 
Making your way to the door, you turn around suddenly. 
"Wait. We need to play the part, right?" 
Eddie looks at you, amused.
"Yes? What you thinking sweetheart?" 
A plan comes to mind, making you shiver with anxiety. Hoping against hope that Eddie doesn't run a mile, you take his hands in your own, sizing up a likely candidate. That ring looks perfect, the backing is a straight band. Taking it off his finger, you place it on the ring finger on his left hand, backwards. You do the same with one of yours. 
Holding your makeshift wedding bands next to each other, you look up at him. 
"See? Playing the part." 
He surveys them for a moment, a moment that has your heart beating in your throat.
"Perfect." Bringing your fingers up to his lips, he kisses the makeshift band. 
"Dinner?" 
Shoving your feelings down as far as they'll go, you swallow the lump in your throat and grab his outstretched hand so he can lead you downstairs. 
Arm in arm, you enter the dining room together. 
"Mr and Mrs Munson, here for dinner?" 
Your heart skips a beat at his words. 
It's just a part we are playing, that's all. Don't let it go to your head.
"Of course, please follow me." 
After being ushered to a table, you order food and drinks. Then you talk, and talk, and talk. He's really opening up to you finally. All about high school, his love for music, his life. The conversation continues as you eat, about him becoming a mechanic, finally opening his own shop and building it from the ground up. He's charming, and funny; each piece of information gives you just that little extra insight into the man you've come to care for so much. 
You start to tell him about your own life, some things you've never told anyone before. You speak about school too, your qualification in English Literature that you are working towards which you'd mentioned before, and looking to train as a teacher after that, which you hadn't. Or, you thought you hadn't. 
"I know sweetheart, you told me that." 
"Did I?" Racking your brains over the last couple of months just leaves you coming up empty. 
"Yeah, about six months ago. We were in the kitchen, I was helping out, fitting the stove. You were wearing that blue skirt with the flowers on." 
Oh.
"You remember that?" Wide eyed, you pause from taking a sip of your wine and stare at him. 
"Yeah. Sorry, that came out really creepy." He smiles but doesn't meet your gaze, as if he's ashamed. 
"Eddie, how long have you had a crush on me?" 
"Honestly? Nearly a year. I remember seeing you all dolled up for your 21st and thinking I was being a fuckin' pervert." 
"Well, that makes me feel a little better. I kinda had a thing for you around the same time. Dressed up a bit when you were around." Admitting it is embarrassing, but also freeing. A weight you didn't know you were carrying is lifted, flying free to the heavens. 
"Ah, so that wasn't my imagination. Why'd you think I helped out around yours all the time? I gotta admit, that bikini you got, the red one. Fuck, that was when I knew I was down bad" he smirks, reaching over to hold your hand. 
"I got it for you." You whisper, touching his outstretched hand. 
"Naughty girl." 
Your thighs clench under the table. A rush of blood to your cheeks aided by the wine you've drunk makes them burn hotly at his words. 
"Sorry to interrupt." You both turn to see your waiter looking very awkward. 
"Would you like any more to drink? Or the dessert menu?" 
Eddie looks at you for confirmation. 
"No, no we're fine. Can we take the rest of the wine upstairs?" Eddie's eyebrows raise at you, fingers stroking the hand he's still holding. 
"Of course, have a pleasant evening Mrs Munson." 
As the waiter departs, you stand up immediately. 
"Oh it's like that, is it?" Eddie's grinning, the devil dancing in his eyes. He palms the bottle and pulls you from your seat so fast you may have whiplash, guiding you to the elevator. 
Once the doors close you are on each other like a rash sharing an urgent, messy kiss. One of his hands is in your hair, pulling you toward him greedily as your tongues fight for dominance. You pull at his shirt, silky material bunching under your desperate hand. 
The elevator doors ping open and he throws you over his shoulder like a caveman, landing an awkward smack on your ass since he's still holding the bottle of wine. You shriek as he practically runs down the hallway, placing you down gently to fumble with the room key. 
Throwing your arms around his neck as he does so, you press needy open mouthed kisses to him, hitting any skin you can reach. Eddie's breathing is laboured, from his impromptu sprint as well as your attention on his neck. 
"Sweetheart, I can't get the damn key card in the thing when you do that!" 
Laughing, you suck a bruise in his neck making him groan as he puts the card in the slot. It flashes red once, twice, then finally green, the door swinging open taking you by surprise, so much so you nearly fall. 
Vision sliding sideways as Eddie drags you in the room; he kicks the door shut with his foot and reaches for you once again, slamming your back against the wall. 
"Was it this wall?" He asks, voice a throaty growl as he undoes his belt with one hand and whips it through the loops at lightning speed. 
"Huh?" Thoughts are impossible right now, unable to see through the alcohol and lust that clouds your judgement. 
Eddie's hand reaches and grabs you by the neck. All you can focus on is his rough grip, squeezing at the sides of your throat, and the heartbeat hammering in your cunt. 
"The wall I was gonna fuck you against. This one, yeah?" 
Nodding emphatically, you reach your eager fingers to his pants, palming his rock hard length. 
"Fuck." Letting go of your throat he pulls your dress up and over the curve of your ass, exposing the tiny thong you were wearing. 
"These new too?" 
"Yeah." 
As you answer he rips them off, the flimsy lace falling apart. 
"I'll buy you a new pair." 
His mouth is on your neck before you can protest, teeth biting harder than usual as he unbuttons his pants to push them hastily down. 
Calloused fingers seek your pussy, rubbing through your folds. 
"God, you're already soaked sweetheart." 
You whine, back arching against the wall. 
"Just fuck me Eddie, please, I need you." 
The tip of his hardened cock runs through your seeping wetness as he lifts you up. Legs clamping around him instinctually, your fingers grasp the lapels of his jacket, tearing it down his arms. It's flung off and away, your hands gripping his shoulders. 
He plunges his throbbing length into you then, large hands grabbing you by your ass, helping him to fuck up into you at an unforgiving pace. 
The sounds of your conjunction are slapping through the room, your slick making dirty squelching noises that would make you cringe if you had any thoughts in your head. All that's echoing in your brain is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. A heartbeat.
He's pounding into you so hard your head starts hitting the wall, the thunk echoing. 
"Fuck, sorry, just hang on," he says, gripping you harshly and carrying you over to the bed. He throws you down, making the air force out of your lungs with an 'ooft' noise. 
Then he's pulling your knees up, giving you no time to breathe as he pushes into you hard, hitting that spot inside that makes you quiver and beg.  
"Eddie, Oh God!" 
His grip, his thrusting movements, his harsh demeanour has your head spinning. You're on the brink of unravelling. 
"Eddie, please, can you- fuck, can you hold my throat again?" You plead, voice hot and raw from moaning. 
"Sweetheart, anything for you." Gravel in his voice. His lips curve into a smile, but there's no mirth in it. His face is hard, and something about it is setting your insides on fire. One hand glides its way up and over your curves, coming to rest on your neck. Rough finger pads squeeze onto your throat at the sides, not too hard, though enough to make your head reel and your pussy clench. 
The string holding you to this reality snaps then as you gasp for air, fibres flying free. You unravel, entirely and completely, dissolving into a mess of tangled threads. 
Eddie merely grunts his appreciation, fully lost in the depths of your cunt, beast mode well and truly activated. Short fingernails dig into the flesh of your hips, ass, thighs, hard enough that you're sure he's drawing blood. 
He releases into you with a bloodthirsty groan, nearly collapsing onto your fucked out form. 
After a few breaths, he manages words. 
"Sorry princess. I get a bit… rough when I've had a drink." 
"Don't apologise. That was… Just, need more of that." 
"Now??" His eyes widened impossibly at your words. 
You giggle at the incredulity in his voice. 
"Maybe in like, ten minutes?" You pout.
"Twenty." 
"Done." 
********************
The time had come. You had both had to rid yourselves of the fairytale, the fantasy, and drive back separately to your real lives. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, a lemon rind of reality soaking onto your tongue, sour and unwelcome.
Saying goodbye was a sickening experience that you'd rather forget. A brief hug and kiss in the hotel car park, making you feel cheaper than you ever did. Like some sort of prostitute. It hurt, more than all of this put together. 
Driving away with tear stained cheeks, you sought solace in the roads of tarmac ahead of you. That, and the last words he spoke to you which echoed your head, 'soon, sweetheart, soon.' 
You pulled up to your family home and noticed your mom's car in the driveway. Walking in and dumping your bag at the foot of the stairs you shout out in a feigned cheery voice. 
"Hey, I'm back from Stacey's house!" The lie you had told them. One of many.
"Hey honey, we were just heading out! Tell us about it later, we'll see you soon!" 
Your mom rushes by you in a cloud of perfume and smiles, your dad in her wake. A kiss is laid on each of your cheeks as she waltzes out. 
The house is silent and still. You move to the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. 
A knock startles you for a moment, making water slosh out of the glass in your hand. Looking up, you see the vision of your desire silhouetted in the patio windows. T-shirt tight across his frame, hair dishevelled, and his usual bright face frowning with discomfort. 
You open the door and he stands there, looking you up and down, like he hadn't seen you for a week, even though it had only been a couple of hours. He makes no move to join you however. 
"Your parents, they gone?" .
"They just left. Why?" Your eyebrows tighten in confusion but widen in surprise when he strides inside, grabbing you by the ass and lifting you up. 
He drops you unceremoniously onto the counter top, your nearly bare ass on the hard granite. His lips are on your neck, but instead of hot kisses, warm breath is breathing life into you.  
"This weekend, it was supposed to be it." 
"What do you mean?" You ask as your stomach drops. 
"This." He gestured to the air between you both, "was it. I was going to say goodbye." 
"But, Eddie-" 
He interrupts your heart burning to ash, stopping the flames with a simple wave of his hands. 
"I said this was supposed to be it. But I-I can't." He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, hands gripping onto the flesh of your thighs desperately. 
"I care about you too much. We need to come clean, fuck the consequences." 
His mouth is on your jaw, nipping at you harshly, hands groping at your flesh as if this were the first time, or the last time. 
You moan, throwing your head back as your fingers grip at his shoulders, feet digging into his back to force him between your legs, closer to your expectant heat. 
"Honey I forgot my purse-"
The world freezes. Your mother, still as a stone, stuck in between shutter speed frames. Her keys have fallen to the floor, splayed on the floor in her shock.
"What the fuck!" 
Your dad stands behind her, face twisted as you've never seen it; volatile, angry and red. A vein is popping deep in his temple, cheeks nearly purple in their rage. 
Eddie steps away, body shielding you with his hands held upward in supplication. 
"Mick, look, we can explain-"
"Explain? Explain why you've got your hands all over my daughter??" 
"Listen, I-" 
"You fucking listen, get out of my house!"
Eddie steps away from you, hands still outstretched to the heavens as your mouth falls open. You're in shock, limbs refusing to respond to the impulses you're sending via your brain to move, damn it, move. 
Eddie exits the front door, your mother and father behind him. 
Finally, your legs find it in their muscles to listen. You shakily follow, finding your lover standing on the grass on the lawn, your father in front of him, clenched fists at his sides. 
It's not long before your fathers fist strikes out, landing on the side of Eddie's face with a glancing blow. Eddie staggers and stands firm, eyes flashing defiance, but hands making no move to defend himself. 
"Eddie, what the fuck do you think you're doing? She's half your age!" 
"Mick, just listen, I know what this looks like, I'm sorry, but-" 
"No, there's no sorry, she's my fucking daughter!" 
The other fist lands, hitting Eddie square in the eye. This time he falls backwards onto the well manicured lawn, hands still reaching to your father, begging. Neighbours are beginning to edge their way outdoors, drawn by the carnage.
"But I love her!" 
The words you never thought you'd get to hear were spilling from his soft lips, not a doubted syllable between them. The words you begged for silently, in the dead of night. Time stands still, at least for you. Your mom is frozen in time with you, hand hovering over her mouth. Your father, however, breaks the spell. 
'Get the fuck off of my property." 
As Eddie stands, you remember your voice. 
"No! No, Dad, I love him too. I love you Eddie!" Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to spill over your cheeks at the slightest blink. 
"You, inside. You don't even know what love is!" His angry fist is outstretched toward you, giving you a frightening glimpse of your father that you've never known.
"Mick, calm down, we should listen-" 
Your mother is silenced with a violent glance. 
"Inside, both of you. We'll talk in the morning." 
There's nothing you can do but witness Eddie getting up and walking to his house without a backwards glance. 
********************
Three days. It's been three days since that fateful encounter; three days since you knew your feelings towards Eddie were reciprocated. Your mother and father have practically kept you under house arrest during that time, holding some unknown shift pattern in order to keep you there. 
As far as you're aware, your father has lost it. It was never in him to discipline you as a child, but it seems he reached his limit that day, threatening to incarcerate you until the end of your time on earth was spent. 
Your mother is softer about this, but no amount of talking seemed to sway him. You'd even tried to sneak out of the house to find him at the foot of your window. 
It was early. Sunlight was seeping through the folds of your curtains as you lay there, cheek fastened to your pillow as it has been for a while. Bed sores were a real threat; not that you cared. Nothing mattered anymore, apart from the fact that Eddie loved you, and you loved him, and you were never going to see him again.
A distant noise reverberated outside, one you barely cared about. Footfalls then, on the landing. Familiar footfalls. 
As your door flings open, you look up with bleary eyes.
"Did you mean it sweetheart?" 
It's Eddie, your Eddie. Flinging your body off the bed, you envelop him in an urgent embrace. 
'Oh Eddie, I'm sorry, I didn't know that-' 
'Shh sweetheart, it's OK. Just… did you mean it? Do you love me?" 
"Eddie, I love you more than anything." 
His lips press against yours, hard, firm and brief. 
'Good. Pack a bag. We need to be quick."
"Why, where are we going?"
"Vegas."
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moonlightazriel · 2 months
Text
Prologue /// Azriel X F!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Y/N Blackbeak keep dreaming about the same male for decade’s now, she wonders what this all could mean.
Word Count: 751
Warnings: None for this part.
Notes: Welcome to my new series, i hope you guys enjoy it just as much as i do. I was so excited to share this with you all.
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
The sound of leathery wings sounded above her head, she looked up expecting to see the black wyvern hovering over her head. She blinked a couple of times, landing in front of her was the male, he had onyx hair, brown skin and the prettiest hazel eyes she had ever seen. His sharp jaw and plush lips were forming a smile, he was smiling at her. 
She tried to touch his face, retrieving her hand quickly before her iron claws could do any damage to his smooth skin. The male shook his head, marred fingers grasping her wrist. He lifted her hand, pink warm lips ghosting over her cold skin, a kiss of midnight on the back of her hand.
She closed her eyes, feeling warmth spread across her chest, that thing skipping a few beats as he pulled her closer by the waist, still holding her hand. She waited for the kiss, feeling his breath fanning over her face, he smelled like night chilled mist and cedar. The scent wrapping itself around her and calming her wild heart.
“You have plagued my dreams for centuries.” She spoke, her voice hoarse like she had been silent for so very long. “Will I ever see you one day?” Her eyes watered. 
The same dream, the same male, but she never found him, and she had spent so long looking for him. She knew he was different from her lovers, from anyone she had ever met. She knew she had to find him, see him at least once, to bring peace to her tortured mind. 
With all the gentleness in the world, he cradled her face in between his hands, the rough skin brushing against the sides of her jaw. Those beautiful hazel eyes, tinted with specs of gold looked into hers, like they could see the fractured soul underneath the brave facade she tried so hard to keep together.
“Don’t wrap your pretty head around it.” His lips touched her forehead, and she leaned into that feeling, the only time she actually had peace was in the arms of the stranger that walked on her dreams. “You won’t have to wait much longer, but please..” She watched as worry laced his features.
She wanted to soothe the furrow of his eyebrows, with a cold hand, she brushed the tip of her finger against his cheek, slowly going upwards until she traced his eyebrows, the left one and then the right one.
“Whatever you want to say, do not worry, please.” She begged and the male nodded.
“Do not be hurt if I don't remember you, I'm not even sure you will remember me.” He chuckled, the sound lighting something within her heart.
“Like I could ever forget you.” She traced his lips.
“The Mother works in mysterious ways, all I know is that our time is coming soon.” He warned and her heart filled with hope, would she finally be able to feel his arms around her waist and his hard chest against her for real? No more play pretend, just reality.
“I can’t wait to meet you.” She allowed herself to feel that love, slowly taking roots in her heart, taking her by surprise.
“Soon, my love, soon.” He promised, his lips capturing hers in a delicate kiss.
She woke up, sweat coated her forehead and her heart hammered against her ribcage knocking the air out of her lungs. She felt dizzy, her fingers touching her tingly lips. The early rays of sunshine invading her room, forcing her to shut her eyes tightly together, the image of him burning bright as she did so. 
Y/N got up, her body protesting but she had things to tend to. She was able to relax under the scalding water of her bath, but the dark circles still marked her eyes, giving her a tired aspect. She inspected the bumpy scar on the left side of her face, two smaller ones marred her eyebrow, missing the eye for an inch, and the biggest one was from the beginning of her hairline to her cheek, irregular skin patched together forming that monstrosity on her once beautiful face.
But just like her, the male also had his scars, and he never seemed disgusted by hers, he always looked at her with love and admiration, she was sure that when they found each other for the first time, he wouldn’t judge her. Nothing would be different between them, her heart just wondered when that meeting would happen.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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cuubism · 6 months
Text
"Ooh, Kinky"
Hob enjoys doing small, nice things for Dream. Dream... really likes it. A lot. Explicit. Acts of service Hob. Horny-for-kindness Dream. Smut, light angst, fluff, and simple pleasures.
Dream is about to reach his fucking limit with this social event. Hob knows, because he's seen it happen more than a few times before. It doesn't help that Dream's limit is... easily reached.
Unfortunately, this is a political event critical to the peaceful relations of the Dreaming, so they can't just fuck off whenever they like. Well, Hob could, probably, but he won't leave Dream stranded surrounded by his greatest enemies. Those enemies being small talk and attempting to smile, of course.
Dream is perfectly savage in a conversation when he’s allowed to use words as clever and cutting as he likes, but this event has been mostly petty, mundane topics and people trying to see just how rude they can get away with being before Dream breaks his composure. He never does, because he’s trying to reaffirm the strength of the Dreaming after his long absence, but his glares are icy and his annoyance visible in the patina of stardust dancing over his skin. Hob’s never seen someone say Your company has been a pleasure with quite so much venom, and he spent a not-insignificant amount of time as a knight in the Queen’s court.
He watches Dream grit his teeth and visibly restrain himself from dissolving into sand at the end of yet another mundane conversation, his fingers clenching at nothing. Once the person’s retreated, Hob leans against his side, murmuring in his ear, “Just a little while longer, hm?” and rubs a hand up and down Dream’s back. “Then I’ll take you home, run you a bath, get you those biscuits you like. Sound good?”
All Hob is expecting to get is a hum of acknowledgment, maybe a smile if he’s really lucky. Instead, Dream stares at him, eyes wide.
“What?” Hob says. He hadn’t even said anything bad. He’d been trying to offer a little encouragement, not make Dream more frustrated, after all.
“I—” Dream says, and swallows hard. Hob watches his throat bob. “That. Would be nice. Thank you.”
Odd.
Hob offers him a small smile, but doesn’t get to ask about it further as somebody else comes up looking for the Dream Lord’s attention. Hob leaves him to it for now, mulling on that reaction as he wanders in search of another conversation partner. He’ll just have to ask about it later.
****
Hob does not get to ask about it later. Nor does he get to run Dream a bath, or even get the biscuits out of the cabinet, because the moment they return to the Waking, Dream is climbing on top of him in bed and pulling down his pajama pants.
Hob just watches him do it for several long moments, half of his brain still asleep and the other half not comprehending things much better. “That all got you really pent up, huh?”
Instead of answering, Dream licks a stripe up Hob’s cock.
Hob yelps. “Jesus fuck!”
Dream merely hums, already hyper-focused on his self-appointed task of driving Hob round the bend. He leans in low, takes Hob’s dick in his mouth, sucks on it like it’s the only thing he’s been thinking of for the past eight hours, or whatever amount of time in the Dreaming, and, well, if Hob wasn’t hard when he woke up, he will be in about three seconds.
What a wakeup call.
“Dream—” Hob flails in his general direction and manages to find his hair, tangles his fingers in it. He has no idea what in the bloody fuck is going on, though it’s hardly a situation he’ll protest. “What—?”
“I appreciated,” Dream says, pulling off Hob’s rapidly hardening cock, “your company at that wretched event.”
Hob pets his hair, cradles his cheek. "My love, you don't have to pay me back for these things. You know I would do anything for you."
"You misunderstand." Dream leans his forehead into Hob's hip, breathing hard. Breathing. He really is worked up. "It is not. Obligation. I simply. Was thinking of you. All night."
"Oh. Alright then. Really?"
"There was nothing that could hold my thoughts more than you, my lover."
Hob sighs. "You say such pretty things."
"As do you."
The sight of Dream looking up at him with his face still pressed to Hob’s pelvis is not sanity-inspiring, but Hob still manages to ask, “What did I say, exactly?”
Dream hums as he presses his closed lips to Hob’s dick again, and the vibration travels all the way through Hob’s body. “Taking me home. Baths.” He kisses the head of Hob’s cock, tongue darting out just briefly to wet it. “Biscuits.”
It takes Hob so long to comprehend this he wonders if he’s actually still been asleep this whole time. “That’s what got you worked up?”
“It was sweet.” His long fingers sneak up to Hob’s hips. “Alluring.”
Hob is going to have to unpack this at a later time. “You sure you don’t just want the bath and biscuits?” he asks, and then immediately wants to hit himself.
“Later,” says Dream, and returns to his task of waking Hob up in the most startling way possible.
Later, they do indeed have that bath, which Dream takes as another opportunity to show his apparent appreciation, then rests, purring, against Hob’s chest as the water cools. Hob still has no bloody idea exactly what he’s done to inspire this, but he’s definitely going to have to do it again.
****
Apparently, he does it again not a week later.
Hob’s finally managed to get Dream in the habit of taking the occasional, proper night off from his work in the Dreaming, and so tonight Hob’s made them dinner (more for the familiar experience of sharing a meal than with the expectation that Dream will actually eat), with plans to have a relaxing night in watching a movie afterwards, and then even later, as they usually do, winding up in bed for something even more ‘relaxing’.
It doesn’t go that way. Or rather, it does go that way, but a hell of a lot faster than Hob had intended, and a lot weirder, too.
It starts with dinner, although ‘dinner’ is a bit of an optimistic way to speak of it—it’s actually ice cream, because if there’s one thing Dream will sometimes eat, it’s sweets. There’s never a bad time to eat ice cream, though, in Hob’s opinion. If you have regular access to ice, and freezers, why the hell wouldn’t you make use of it?
And Dream likes sweets. And florals. Hob has attempted to combine these into lavender-flavored ice cream—not something he’d been certain would work, when he started it, but he thinks it’s turned out pretty well.
He places a dish of it on the coffee table in front of Dream, a tiny spoon already stuck into the ice cream. Dream touches the condensation on the cold dish. “Did you make this?”
“Yup.” Hob takes a tiny spoonful of his own, and, yes, it is good, thank God. “It’s actually not as hard as I might have thought.”
Instead of using his spoon, Dream just dips a delicate fingertip in and brings a tiny smear of ice cream to his mouth. Licks his finger clean. Does he actually, truly, have to do those kinds of things to Hob’s sanity? “Lavender?”
“Mmhmm. Was going to try for dandelion, actually? I remember how much you liked the wine the other day. But I wasn’t sure the flavor would come through.”
“Because I liked it?” Dream says, looking down at the dish again. He sounds lost in thought.
“Yeah, of course I made it because you liked it.” Frankly, a large, and continually growing, percentage of Hob’s behavior is driven by what Dream might like.
“You do not have to go through such effort,” Dream says.
“Don’t have to,” Hob agrees. “I want to. Go on. Eat it.” He taps at Dream’s bowl with his spoon. Dream takes another tentative spoonful—actually using the spoon this time—and hums in appreciation.
“It is… very good,” he admits, and Hob can’t help his smile. He sits beside Dream on the couch, tucks into his own bowl—but quickly becomes aware that Dream is more so watching him than he is eating his ice cream, though he does occasionally lift some to his mouth and take a slow bite, lips lingering on the spoon.
“Have I got it on my face?” Hob asks, but instead of responding, as soon as he turns Dream leans in to kiss him.
Hob lets out an involuntary startled sound, but quickly gets with the program, putting down his bowl and taking Dream’s face between his hands instead. Dream tastes, of course, of lavender, with the static charge that sometimes jumps to his lips when he’s worked up. He licks into Hob’s mouth, pushing closer, leaving aside his bowl and spoon to half-crawl into Hob’s lap, whines when Hob runs his hands through his hair.
Hob chuckles as Dream starts tugging at his shirt. “Easy, love. No rush.”
“Is that truly what you wish?” Dream asks, pulling away just far enough to speak against Hob’s lips. His voice is heavy with want. “For me to go… slower?”
Deep down, Hob is really not a very strong man.
So he lets Dream push him down onto the couch, pulls him in with a smile as Dream kisses him hungrily. Hob’s back will regret this later, but for now he just spins into this moment with Dream, forgets about the subtle strangeness of Dream’s pivot to sex because Dream seems so happy and that’s all Hob wants, for him to be happy.
Dream undresses them both and straddles his lap and rides him like he lives to do it, and that successfully wipes any lingering thoughts from Hob’s head. All he knows is the blessed touch of Dream’s skin and the euphoria of having him. And knowing that, some way or another, he did make Dream happy.
****
Every once in a while, Dream brings his work to the Waking world so he can sit beside Hob while he grades without falling behind on his duties in the Dreaming. Hob’s not sure… exactly how he does that. He can’t properly create dreams in the Waking world, of course, but he seems to be able to… sketch. Drawing patterns in his sand on the tabletop, or molding it in the air before him, then whisking the designs back to the Dreaming for later fulfillment. It’s fascinating and highly distracting when Hob is trying to grade, but he certainly won’t tell Dream to stop.
Now, Dream has been spinning the same amorphous shape before him for nearly an hour, frowning. Stuck. His shoulders are tight, arms held aloft in the same position for far longer than a human would be able to manage.
Hob nudges his calf with his toes from where they’re sitting across from each other on the couch, legs outstretched. “You want to take a break, love?”
“A break,” Dream mutters, greatly affronted. “I think not.”
Oh, Hob can play this game. “What if I make it worth your while? Little massage, maybe? You must be sore after sculpting for that long.”
“I don’t get sore,” Dream, the proud idiot, says instantly — before pausing and taking in the rest of Hob’s statement. He finally meets Hob’s eyes, the swirling sand collapsing back into a cube in his palms. “You would… do that?”
“What, a massage? Yeah, I mean, it’s nice, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Dream agrees, staring off into the distance over Hob’s shoulder. “Nice.”
Hob scoots over on the couch to push up next to him, takes Dream’s hand between both of his own and starts rubbing at the meat of his palm. “Yeah, isn’t it? Something the matter?”
“Not as such.” Dream contemplates for a long moment; Hob waits patiently. “I suppose I am not used to it. It affects me, when you say such things.”
The fact that a simple offer of a massage to make him feel better is confusing to Dream hurts Hob’s heart, but fortunately it’s a problem he can fix. Or at least, something he can make Dream get used to. Eventually.
He kisses Dream’s palm. “Well? How about it, then? Let me make you feel good?”
“You make me feel good,” Dream says, with a little smirk that suggests exactly what he means. “Often.”
“Not what I meant, but we can do that, too.”
“Very well, Hob,” Dream concedes, with a heaving sigh, as if this is quite a concession indeed. “Do your worst.”
****
Hob does not get very far into “his worst.”
He supposes it was only inevitable. Straddling Dream’s thighs, rubbing warm oil in soothing patterns over his lithe back and upper arms, is not really a position conducive to reason. Hob didn’t start it, though. He was determined to show Dream an actual, nice, mostly innocent massage.
Then he’d pressed his thumbs into Dream’s neck, rubbing out the undeniable knots that were there despite Dream’s insistence that he did not have a physical body, and Dream had let out a very not innocent moan. And had pushed his ass up against Hob’s clothed dick.
“Stay still,” Hob had said, and Dream had subsided immediately, but not in true understanding or acquiescence. No, it was the quick obedience he played at because he knew obeying Hob’s commands like that turned Hob on.
Hob had recognized the ploy, but that did not change that fact that his self-control in the face of an obedient, wanting, moaning Dream was exactly zero.
That’s how they’ve ended up here. With Hob pressing Dream into the sheets, fucking him hard and fast, hands still slick with massage oil.
“You are incapable of just having a good fucking time,” he complains, not slowing in the slightest.
When Dream replies, Hob can hear his smirk even through the muffling of the pillow. “I am having a good time now.”
“There’s more than one type of a good time,” Hob says, and bites the back of Dream’s neck.
Dream shudders. “Why change a good thing?”
“More than one type of good thing,” Hob repeats. He doesn’t really know why he’s attempting to convince Dream not to have sex. How incredibly self-sabotaging. Only it feels important that Dream gets to experience simple nice things as well. Not only sex.
Though of course, Hob is always in favor of sex.
He tables that conversation for later. “Hush, now,” he says, and mouths over the bite mark he’d made on the back of Dream’s neck, deepening the bruise. “We’ll talk about that later, after I make you come.”
“Oh, we will?” Dream says, petulantly, and Hob leans back, pulling Dream with him by the hips so he’s balanced precariously on his elbows and knees, spine arched, as Hob keeps fucking into him. Which, admittedly, is probably exactly the kind of reaction Dream wanted to get out of him.
Dream lets out a pleased groan at the new angle, confirming Hob’s suspicions. Hob loves to get those sounds out of him, though, even if by Dream’s design. His own breath is loud in the quiet bedroom, the quick slap of their bodies together too, but Dream’s moan as Hob takes him in hand is louder.
His hand is slick with oil still, and Dream slides easily through his grip, pushed by the force of Hob’s movement. Each thrust punches a broken ha-h! sound from him, and his hands are fisted in the sheets, and Hob knows from experience his eyes are squeezed shut tight. Braced against overwhelm.
Lord does Hob love to overwhelm him.
“Do you think you’ll be sore tomorrow?” he asks, false casual. “More than when you were working? Do you think you’ll still feel me in you?”
“Yes,” Dream pants. “Yes.”
“Will you keep it, even if it hurts?” Dream could easily wash these small human remnants from his form, but sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he comes back to Hob joints still aching from being fucked. God it makes Hob sick with want.
“Pain is good,” Dream says. “I will take it.” He clenches around Hob as if to emphasize the point, body spasming. Held open and full.
‘Pain is good’ is not exactly what Hob meant, but Dream is overdramatic like that and he does like a little pain, sometimes.
In the morning Hob will take him in his mouth, bring him off with easy heat and agonizing slow pleasure. Then he’ll roll on top of him, fuck him through the afterglow, erase that soreness with a slow, easy stretch that melds right into him. Kiss him and move in him until Dream comes twice, at least.
Now, he twists his grip around Dream and thumbs over his slit in the way he knows will make him come, and grips his hip hard enough to leave bruises, and Dream cries out at the force, spilling over his hand.
Hob doesn’t slow. He takes Dream’s hips in both hands again, holds him there as he fucks into his tight, oversensitive body. So tight after, always, as if whatever arousal unlocked gets timid again in the aftermath. Hob would feel like more of a dick for loving it if Dream didn’t seem to get off on it, too.
“So fucking tense, baby,” he says, pressing Dream to the sheets again, mouthing at the back of his neck. His skin tastes like oil. Dream trembles under him. “Should I stay in you longer? Maybe I should make you wait. Keep you on my cock until you get used to it.”
“Yes,” Dream says. “Mold me to you.”
Hob fucks him harder, down into the bed, and Dream gasps at each stretch. Hob won’t last much longer like this. He’s surprised he lasted this long.
“Come back to me in the morning,” he says, “and we’ll keep practicing.”
And Dream moans, and that’s enough for Hob. With several quick stutters of his hips, he spills in him, Dream’s muscles going all tense under him at the feeling. Then he falls boneless over Dream’s back, and stays like that, in him, keeping a promise, or perhaps a threat, for a time.
“I love when you get like that,” Dream murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded. Shifting against where Hob is going soft inside him.
“How?”
“Wanting me,” Dream says.
“I always want you,” Hob says.
“You know what I mean.”
Yeah, Hob does, and it’s not really what he intended for an easy, relaxing evening, though Dream has relaxed under him. But this intensity, this roughness, no matter how much they both love it, hadn’t been what he had been aiming for at the start. He hadn’t even been angling for sex at all at the start.
And now Hob is picking up on the pattern that he’s been pushing aside each time it comes up. The way Hob will try to do something nice for him and Dream will spin it around into sex. After that event in the Dreaming. After Hob had fed him. He had been attributing it just to passion, but… maybe that’s not the whole truth.
He finally pulls out, trying not to relish too much in Dream’s groan at the feeling, and goes to clean him up with quick, practiced motions. Dream just hums, still sprawled out, loose and spoiled. Hob cuddles back up to him, turning him on his side and pulling Dream flush to his body, Dream’s back to his chest. He knows from experience that it’s the best position if he wants to get real, personal answers out of him, because Dream won’t have to look him in the eye as he says them.
“Do you not like,” he starts, thinking it through as he speaks, lips to the back of Dream’s neck, “when we do just… simple things other than sex?”
Dream stiffens immediately, which perhaps was inevitable. Hob holds him tight so he won’t slip away. “If you are dissatisfied with our lovemaking—”
“Not what I said.” He kisses under Dream’s ear. “Don’t jump to conclusions, eh?”
But jumping is how Dream’s mind works, Hob knows. It’s not for dreams to be linear, but to create zigzag webs of meaning, clouds of abstraction. Feelings layered and refracted.
“Are—” he starts, a thought occurring. “Are you unsatisfied?”
“No,” says Dream, but Hob isn’t convinced by it. He doubts Dream would let him do something he didn’t like—Hob hadn’t even gotten away with calling him a friend the first time without getting a reaction—but that doesn’t mean he would speak up about what he does want.
“I do enjoy such things you speak of,” Dream says before Hob can push. “‘Simple things.’ Nice… things.”
“Well. I’m glad, then. Only you… do turn it into sex. A lot. And I’m not doing ‘nice things’ just to get you into bed, you know.”
“Such temptations are not necessary for that, historically,” Dream says, with some of his rare humor. Hob can imagine the tiny smirk on his lips, and leans over to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Temptations, huh?” he says, still close to Dream’s cheek, and Dream blushes. Just the barest amount, but any flush is easily visible on his pale skin. “My attempts at strange ice cream flavors really did it for you?”
“You made it for me,” Dream says. His voice is quiet like the hush of light rain.
Hob squeezes him to his chest. “You talk like no one’s ever done something just nice for you in a relationship.”
“Do not jump to conclusions,” Dream says, echoing him with a twitch of the lips. “But such small signs of care… it is a human thing. I am unused to that. I am… a medium through which fantasies are spun. Not a creature to be made tea and ice cream.”
“What if my fantasy is making you tea and ice cream?” Hob says. His heart hurts at the thought of it being foreign to Dream, even if he knows some of it is just his nature as an Endless, that Dream has had some good relationships, at least for the time that they lasted, and that supernatural creatures can have different ways of showing care—hell, he’s seen it with Dream himself—but still—
“You are turning my words upon themselves,” Dream says, but seems to find it humorous. “I suppose that because I am unused to it, such things unduly affect me. Is it a surprise, then, that I should want you so when you do them?”
“Are you saying those things make you horny?” Hob’s voice pitches up several notches. Dream actually squirms in his arms, as if to wiggle away back into stardust.
“I do not care for that word to be applied to me,” he says.
“You are, though,” Hob says. God, the fact that he seems to get turned on by simple care and kindness in a relationship is both sweet, hot, and terribly sad all at once. But with Dream naked in his arms he’s leaning more towards hot.
Dream doesn’t answer, and Hob leans over to catch his eye. “Hey, Dream. Look at me?” Dream still doesn’t, so Hob takes his chin and tugs until Dream finally turns his gaze to him. He looks almost… ashamed.
“Hey.” Hob lets his hand fall to a gentler hold, cradling Dream’s cheek. “None of that. Would think you were talking about tentacle porn, the way you look.”
Hob does not actually think Dream would be ashamed of tentacle porn. No, it’s only this.
“Humans only see tentacle sex as ‘kinky’ because you do not know any sentient beings with tentacles,” Dream says.
Hob stares at him for several long moments. Has to shake himself hard to reset. “That’s another conversation,” he says, and Dream gives half a smile, enough that it breaks that look on his face. Laughing at Hob’s meager human experience. He’ll take it.
“What I’m saying is,” he continues, “you don’t have to be ashamed. It’s sweet, really.”
Dream finally turns over properly on his back so Hob no longer has to lean over his shoulder. Hob takes advantage of it to lean in and kiss him, slow and lingering, and when he pulls away Dream is looking at him with his pupils wide and his mouth wet and parted, a look that begs another kiss and another of anything Hob’s willing to give him. Which is much.
“You can have whatever you want,” Hob murmurs. “Any other desires you’ve been keeping close to the chest?”
Dream shakes his head. “It is not about elaborate fantasy. I can make any sexual fantasy a reality in the Dreaming. But.” His gaze slants down. “I cannot make someone love me.”
“Oh, darling.” Hob kisses him again, soft and sweet this time. “I want to give that to you, don’t you know? All the time.”
“I am coming to that awareness,” says Dream, softly. “And perhaps we might… do more. Of these ‘simple nice things’ that you speak of.”
“Because it turns you on?” Hob says, but it’s just teasing now.
“Among other reasons,” murmurs Dream, and leans his head against Hob’s.
There’s nothing Hob wants more than to give him those things. The chance to see Dream happy is the sweetest gift he can imagine. His own ‘nice thing,’ perhaps, though nothing about it feels simple.
For now, he cuddles Dream close, rubbing his hand up and down his spine. Dream makes a rumbling, purring sound of pleasure, and presses into him, nose tucked against Hob’s throat. Hob loves him so much it makes his chest hurt, a sweeter version of the wound he’d felt during all of Dream’s long absence.
I’ll make you so used to nice mundane things you’ll get fucking bored, Hob thinks. Though there are a lot of nice, ordinary things—life’s made up of them—so it might take a long time.
Fortunately, Hob has a long time.
****
The next time Hob makes Dream dinner—actual dinner this time, not just ice cream, partly because he’s too weak to handle the image of Dream licking ice cream off his fingertips again—he just pulls Dream to the bedroom afterwards to cuddle. He wants to show Dream a quiet evening, to let him feel good without plan or expectation. And by the way Dream slides into bed beside him, presses up against Hob’s body, skin to skin, just his underwear on, and then rests there like it’s where he belongs, Hob thinks he gets the message.
Dream’s form is warm and alluring against him, but Hob doesn’t feel the need to push it further towards sex. The contented hum of Dream’s body at his side is its own form of satisfaction. The pleasure he can draw in him just by holding him close. Dream is calm and pleased and happy, and while they’ll surely slide into sex later, or maybe just tomorrow morning, if Dream stays that long, for now this is more than enough.
The slow build of pleasure as he strokes his hand through Dream’s hair and down over his back. The brush of Dream’s feathery hair against his jaw as he tucks his head further into Hob’s throat with a sigh. Dream is clearly pleased, Hob can feel that he’s hard against his thigh, but he seems content to just let it be for now, to relish in those early, warm moments of arousal. He really just wanted to be petted and spoiled and adored all along, Hob thinks with a smile. And how long has Hob wanted to spoil and adore him?
Hob’s just about to fall asleep, still lightly stroking Dream’s hair, when Dream’s head snaps up in the direction of the hallway, like a cat that’s spotted a fly buzzing around in the dark. “Sibling,” he calls, “I can sense your irritating presence. Reveal yourself, or suffer the consequences.”
“Ooh, consequences. I’m just shaking in my Louboutins,” says Desire, swanning out of the shadows, eyes glinting. Hob, properly awake now, gets the sense that they’re about to have a very odd conversation, here in his bedroom, in the middle of the night. Never a normal fucking tea in this family.
“What are you doing here,” Dream says flatly. “You aren’t welcome.”
He hasn’t moved from where he’s still curled against Hob, Hob notes with a little thrill.
“The level of horny wafting off this flat is revolting, I simply had to come see what you were getting up to.” Desire leans in the doorway, head in their hand, and looks the two of them up and down, face falling in what looks like genuine disappointment. “Are you fucking… cuddling? Are you— are you petting his disgusting hair?”
“Fuck off, Desire,” Hob says mildly, and Dream smiles smugly.
"Unbelievable," complains Desire. "The utter disrespect upon my realm."
"You are simply jealous that my lover is the most alluring in all the land," says Dream, and kisses Hob on the nose, then on his closed eye, then on the cheek. "Isn't he a sweetheart?”
Desire blinks at them several times in disbelief. Rubs their eyes. Looks again. "Nope, turns out I really did just witness that."
They manifest a cigarette, and take a long pull, leaning their forehead against the doorframe like the weight of the world is upon their shoulders. Then they straighten up, shaking it off.
“Well, I see you've done a swan dive off the deep end. I'll leave you to your demise. Don't call me unless you've decided to try some pet play or something else even marginally respectable."
"I shan't be inviting you to that," says Dream.
"Didn't invite you this time," mutters Hob.
"Lies. Foul lies. I know all. I see—” they point at them ominously— “all. Even though I'm wishing more and more that I did not. Sayonara, you puritan fucks."
And they disappear.
Hob breaks down laughing, tucking his face into Dream's shoulder.
Dream caresses his cheek. “What is it?”
"Oh, just. Kink-shamed by the embodiment of Desire itself. That's all."
Dream pouts. “It is not like Desire to kink shame. I assure you, I could have taken the form of a human and engaged in some real human fucking and they would still have taken issue because it was me.”
“Is that— uh,” Hob frowns. “Is that considered— kinky?”
Dream looks at him seriously. “Very.”
“Huh.” Hob ponders this strange little tidbit about immortal creatures’ lives. “Oh, is that right?”
Dream casts him a warning glance. “Do not do anything untoward with that knowledge.”
“Oh, I’m definitely going to do something untoward with that. You kinky bastard, you.”
Dream sighs as if exhausted, yet unsurprised by Hob’s antics. “Many do seem to think so,” he admits.
“This is the best information I have ever learned,” Hob decides. “You know, darling, if you wanted to have terribly spicy human sex, you only had to ask.”
“You may come to regret that offer,” Dream warns, but he settles back against Hob’s side with a satisfied hum.
“Nah.” Hob already has far too many ideas for that. Many more things to add to the list of human experiences he can show Dream. Not all of them quite so wholesome as dinner and cuddling. Indeed, there are many different types of ‘nice things’ to be had, and more than one fun way to spoil him. “I don’t think so.”
And while he’s at it… maybe he’ll ask Dream about that whole tentacles thing, too. If they’re in the process of exchanging kinks, and all.
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pieroulette · 11 months
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My Little Angel
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2023 | 18+ | ONESHOT | PARK SUNGHOON × READER
WARNING yandere fallen angel!sunghoon, noncon smut, pure filth. 🗿 minors don't interact but i'm not your mama that are able to supervise you, you have your own brain so consume content responsibly.
WORD COUNT 1.3k
AUTHOR'S NOTE just a small practice of ehem yk, cuz i don't write smut rlly and this is my second smut story obv, since route 1 has me coughing sm. so it might be rlly bad. plus sunghoon's hair is just giving me sm feels 🗿
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SUNGHOON WOULD NEVER LET YOU GO, you who were his pretty little angel. One that had brought him to complete euphoria and at the same time to his demise.
The first time he laid his eyes on you was when the priests summons spiritual angels for a holy ritual, and you were amongst the young nuns presented. Your existence took his breathe away that it cause one sinful thought arising within him.
That alone had him shaking his head in pure agony, trying to shake those thoughts away but strangely, those sinful thoughts only multiplies, slowly devouring his innocence and turning his prayers to God into prayers for you.
His mind no longer whispers the name of God but rather consumed by your name.
For a couple of months, he watches over you with his presence invisible, that the nun with a great psychic ability beside you one day asked if you were aware that you had a guardian angel remaining by your side, and that your guardian angel's energy wasn't the colour of light but rather of darkness.
That ripped your peace of mind into ashes, praying to the God for protection, answers of what has fall upon you, and so on.
Sunghoon saw it all, only remaining silent. Sure, he had fallen in love with you but he chose to stay behind the curtains, but one day when a man came into the frame—it broke him to pieces, and another type of sin arises in him; greed and desire for a human blood.
It shook you to your core when an angel who you often imagine as supreme beings with the light enveloping their magnificent wings—were soaking in crimson blood.
That was the first time he showed himself before you, voicing out a rather simple sentence. "I'll return again."
Even when you dared to break off the rules he created for you and escape through the white door that was supposed to protect you from the outside world, just like he said.
But you didn't listen to him, so now you had to pay the price because you were a bad girl—ruining his image of you being his obedient angel.
Sunghoon pushes you off to the bed with his enormous strength. As an angel, he's far more stronger than you are and now that he had fallen to the underworld, strangely he gained more power and strength—feeding on dark energies from the underworld creatures.
And the day he turned into a fallen angel with his once glowing white wings drenching in pitch black ink, was also the day he took you away from the church, stripping your right of freedom.
Locking you inside this room bathed in silk red, where behind those doors were engulfed with dark creatures you were beyond frightened to lay your eyes upon. But what you didn't knew was how they were afraid of you, who Sunghoon absolutely adores. That's why it had them at the edge of their life when your existence was nowhere to be found in the room.
Yet, it was not difficult for Sunghoon to capture you back but oh did it irritates him beyond his expectation. He expected you to be good and obedient just like when he saw you for the first time.
But this, such an atrocious act for him that he desires to give you a suitable punishment.
Your small and petite figure aroused him even more, adding the fact that you're nervous and writhing like a prey waiting to be devoured.
You knew there was no escaping, not when the windows and doors were locked, completely sealing you from any escape possible, not when this boy in front of you were much stronger than you are.
You are truly doomed.
He climbs on top of you and grips both your wrists on the mattress amidst your protests and cries, mouth trembling as the hot breathe of his mouth slides down to your neck, and licks it with his tongue.
"I've been too good to you, love. I guess it's only wise I take what's mine now," his finger slids down to your tummy, in which you immediately tighten your thighs together but he was quick to put his hand in between, using his strength to open your legs again.
And in a split moment, his hand cupped your private part making you panic along with a hint of arousal hitting your core.
"I really wanna make love with you since the first time I saw you.." Sunghoon growls, pressing his finger inside your clit making your back arched in pleasure.
You don't want this. You really don't want this.
"To feel what it's like it to be inside you.."
You pressed your lips tight, tears threatening to come out from your eyes as he pressed his body closer to yours, the warmth of him engulfing your entire body.
"Hear your sweet little sounds.."
His eyes filled with nothing but love and lust.
"Make you cum and all.."
The desire to eat you raw and stain your innocence with his hands and mouth were driving him utterly insane that his eyes and hands rattled immensely.
"Because of what I'm about to do to you, is driving me crazy right now, love." Sunghoon presses a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips brushing down your ears as he uttered another dirty words that sent shivers down your spine. "You would be so cute under me, so fucking innocent and yet so fucking dirty just because of me."
"But I was too kind, too lenient to let you do what you want. It's my fault you turn out so bratty like this.." he softly murmurs, as his fingers dig even deeper and deeper into your clothed clit.
"I should teach you now then, train you on how to be my sweet little good girl.." Sunghoon breathe out, "My little angel."
"N-no.. I'm s-sorry!" You choked on your tears, begging for this to just be a dream.
"Shh.. then show me how sorry you are while I'm fucking you raw."
He pulled your skirt down but you tried to stop it, yet he was stronger and faster and now the cold air hits your bare thighs. His hands slapped your arm away, gripping it against the mattress as he kissed your neck and licked it.
He buried his knee between your legs and his other hands cupped your breast making you let out a tiny moan — a sweet melody to his ears. His fingers made its way under your shirt, giving you goosebumps as his hand travelled to your bare tummy up to your breast, then he pinched your nipples and played with it.
You could only cry, and take what he's giving you. The more you resist, the more he gets aroused. The bed creaking, blankets wrinkling, and wet spots forming on your panties as you felt his hard and growing bulge against your core.
You were getting a weird delicious feeling under your clit and you hate it that you like it.
In a split moment, he gets rid of your shirt, exposing your breast and all. You tried to cover yourself but he growled, eyes narrowing as his hands harshly prevented you from doing so.
"So fucking cute.." he breathes against your ear, his hands forming circular patterns on your bare back.
He licks your neck with his tongue then the edge of teeth sank just below your shoulder, marking you as his as blood trickle down to your bare chest, a mixture of arousal and pain engulfed your entire body as he pushes himself deeper and closer to you.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
All you can think of was to get him to stop but the way your body reacts to his sinful touches was saying a different thing.
The clock hanging on the wall across the room were the only thing you were left to observe as he devours your body with his lips and tongue, the edges of his fingers and hands travelling it's way every edge of your skin without your consent.
1:05am
It has been nearly two hours since he was forcing himself on you, your clothes scattered around the floor with his and yet it doesn't look like it's gonna end anytime soon.
Your ears catches the sound of a belt unbuckling on its own and your tired teary eyes glanced towards the source of the noise, your breath hitched nervously as he unzipped his pants, his face were wild flushed and lips swollen with the amount of contact he forced against you and his soft hair gone into a wild mess, his toned body having bead of sweat on his neck streaming down to his torso.
He slowly puts his cock inside you making your back arched in both arousal and pain, your lower part felt so full, getting filled with wet and girth.
Then he starts to thrusts in you—loud, lewd and dirty slaps echoing through the room. The smell of sex strongly lingering in the air, beads of sweats forming on your forehead as your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in his skin bound to form fresh red crescent marks that will serve as a form of achievement for him tomorrow when he sees it in the mirror.
Sunghoon's fucked up expression contorts even wilder as he shuts his eyes and his mouth hangs low and his head throws back, leaning back down again to kisses you roughly, tongue meets tongue, lewd sound forming along with it — everything was incredibly wet and dirty.
His hand gripping your left thigh up to let himself sink even deeper inside you, you could feel every part of him inside your body, it was as if you were being filled with so much pleasure and pain at the same time. Your toes curling up in the air, and you could feel wet liquid dripping down to your wet hole.
Soon you couldn't suppressed your moans even though you bit your lips, he chuckled at how cute you are under him. "Fucking cute.. my little angel."
You felt a knot forming under your stomach and he realizes you were coming, your knees weak and a burning arousal all over your body as he keeps thrusting in you, his cock hitting all the sweet spots inside you.
Then he bends down, taking your neck with his hands as he deeply kisses you as you experienced your first orgasm, knees vibrating in pleasure while his tongue plays with yours.
Hot and wet liquids trickling down to your thighs, seeing it gave him satisfaction that he was able to pleasure you and also be the first man to ever take your innocence away just like when you stripped the innocence of his mind away.
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surielstea · 2 months
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Washing Warriors
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Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader washes Cassian and he returns the favor
Warnings: Suggestiveness | Groping | handsy Cassian | pet name usage (sweetheart)
2.2k words
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The house was eerily silent, and knowing my mate that could never be good. After I realized the silence it nagged at me despite my want to enjoy the peace with a nice book in my hands. Though every creak and croak of the house now distracted me and I found myself rereading entire pages.
Eventually I grew beyond fed up and closed my book, not bothering to mark it when I'll have to go back later anyways. I exhale deeply and place my book on the armrest before getting up, expecting to return to the comfortable chair soon.
"Cassian!" I call up the stairs but I earn no reply. A frown forms on my lips and I begin the ascent. Once going through the hall I peer through every open door. The general was never one for closed doors, enjoyed the open space he always told me. Meaning if any of them were closed he most likely didn't want to be bothered.
I spied into my office which was the last remaining open door before our bedroom. But alas he wasn't in there. I click my tongue on the roof of my mouth and enter our shared bedroom. Starlight seeped past the sheer curtains, the full moon illuminating the entirety of the room. The bed still clean and made from this morning, untouched. I notice the armoire door cracked open and walk over to it, shutting it with a click.
A dim light beams from the alcove leading to the master bathroom. The tenseness in my expression relaxes when I round the corner of the nook and find the bathing chambers entrance wide open. Not one for closed doors at all.
I spot my mate in the bath, quietly running water down his arm and watching as it dripped from his finger tips. His large back was faced to me, broad shoulders and rippling muscle along with so many scars. His hair was down, cascading only a few inches below his neck.
"You're staring, sweetheart." Cassian hummed, his baritone voice startling me out of my stupor. "Sorry." I twist on my heel and go to leave. He turns his head to look back at me. "Sweetheart!" He calls before I can leave fully. I catch myself on the corner of the wall and peek my head back in. "What is it?" I ask dumbly, his eyes somehow beckon me closer and I find my feet following his silent command.
It wasn't long before I was standing beside the edge of the basin and he was staring up at me, looking like a lost puppy dog. "Can you wash my wings?" He asked sweetly and I rolled my eyes. "Can't you do it with magic?" I tease. "I prefer your hands." He shrugs. "You've had me training all day," I sit on the edge of the tub. "I'm tired." I huff, blaming his laborious tasks on his own demise. "You won't be as sore tomorrow if you get in the hot water." He argues with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Please." He places a wet hand onto my dry one and gives it a soft squeeze, the gentleness of his touch so hypocritical to the coarse callousness marring him. The same roughness I loved so much. He stared up at me like a goddess and I was his only salvation, like nothing else mattered and it was only me and him. He knew what he was doing. "Cass." And he knew it was working. A smile curves his lips because it's evident in my voice that he's got me hooked.
"If you don't I'll splash you." He warns and I gasp dramatically. "Making threats now are we?" I stand back up and he nods cheekily, his sharp canines digging into his lower lip. He shamelessly stares as I strip my night gown off, exposing myself entirely. His vision make direct contact with my breasts and I roll my eyes. I grab his hand and slide my hairband from his wrist that was probably holding his own hair up today. I step into the water while tying my hair up in order not to get it wet. His gaze trails from my breasts up to the exposure of my neck, to my hair that I rarely ever had tied back.
I groan as the hot water wraps around my muscles, coming up to my chest as steam surrounds the both of us. A smirk curves his lips as he stares at me and I sigh, leaning closer then pressing a loving kiss to his smile. "Turn around." I instruct and a bright smile spreads over his lips. "Thank you sweetheart." He hums happily as I detach from his lips and he swivels so his back faces me. "Training better be easier tomorrow as my reward." I demand, wetting my hands in the warm water.
"I was thinking something different for a reward." He intones as I pour a hefty dollop of soap made especially for Illyrian wings onto my palm. I flush at the insinuation. "I expect that too." I say as if he doesn't already 'reward' me with that every time I ask for it.
"Just don't go splashing me and we won't have any problems." I warn and a smile tugs at his lips. "You're not into waterplay then?" He taunts. "You were banned from the summer court for a reason." I giggle, beginning to pour water from a pitcher over his flared wing. "That doesn't mean we couldn't get you banned too." He taunted and I only shook my head and rolled my eyes.
Washing an Illyrians wings was an intimate and personal process, some males were so protective of them they didn't let anyone touch them, not even a healer. Cassian had always said those males were missing out. And he must've been telling the truth because here he was with his head hung back with a bright pink flush dusting his golden skin, a groan occasionally slipping from his sensuous lips every time my fingertips brushed over a vein or a scar.
Though the exercise of washing his wings was tedious and sensitive it was just as rewarding for me as him. He'd send the most overwhelming waves of love and adoration through the bond the entire time, as if I was feeling the pleasure myself and it urged me to go on. I didn't want the appreciation to end, something told me neither did he.
"You're too good to me." He sighed out, a gleam of sweat lining his forehead from both the heat of the water and the passion in which his skin burned as I touched him where no one else could. "Nonsense, my lord." I tease, kissing just below his ear along his jaw. "You know I hate when you call me that." He sighed and I giggle teasingly. I did in fact know that. "Apologies, General." I correct and kiss the same spot again. He grunts in reply like some sort of untamed beast and I grin wildly.
"You'd be better off not calling me that either." He advises and I continue my work on the membrane of his large wings. "Why?" I ask. He reaches back, water dripping down his impressive forearms and to his biceps that could crush my head in. His fingers intertwine with my dry hair and he guides me down so when he turns his head it's his lips on mine.
It wasn't words but it was reply enough. Calling him such a name would get me in trouble, but not the kind I feared. "Let me finish your wings before you forget we're in a bath." I back away from his mouth and he sighed in a low growling reply. I smile knowingly and he narrows his eyes on me, begrudgingly his hold released and he allows me to return to my task.
He seemed so relaxed I thought he might fall asleep before making it back onto the bed. Though I knew better then to doubt my mates stamina, I was reminded of that the hard way far too much to forget. Honestly the male might hold a world record.
I get distracted in my lewd thoughts and allow my massaging hands to dip from his wings to his shoulders, then down to his biceps where the carved muscle felt like the mother herself graced him with them. "I may need to brush up on my Illyrian anatomy, but last time I checked those weren't my wings." His voice rattles me from my dissociative state. "So because I pleasure you doesn't mean I can't indulge myself?" I ask, digging my nails into his shoulders with the slightest force. "By all means," He props his arms up on either side of me and I giggle when he purposefully flexes them.
My hands slowly move back to his wings— making sure to memorize every muscle and curve on my way there. I'm finishing the pleasurable job with a few more gentle strokes along his veins, the kind of touches that made his nails dig into his palms and his head hang low. I relish in the feelings flowing from his end of the bond to mine, pure warmth and affection. Cassian has always been a little more protective of his wings than the others, it took awhile before he allowed even me to touch them. But once I did it was something he always wanted.
I finalize my task by rinsing the large wings, pouring a steady stream of water over the backs of them. I watch as the soap dissolves and the suds slide away. "All done?" He cranes his head back to look at me from upside down. I nod enthusiastically and lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "How was work?" My voice is barely a whisper against his skin. He groaned, as if remembering the fact that he flew back from Illyria today.
"The usual." He sighs, lifting his head up and shifting away from the rim of the tub. Sensing he didn't want to talk about it I didn't push any further. "Well, my day was great." I dip back into the warm water, sitting down and allowing it to rush over my slightly cold body. "Yeah? Tell me about it." He prompts as he poured body wash from a vial into his large hands.
"Well I mostly read all day," He grabs me by the waist and pulls me closer to him and I just allow it. "And the books I'm reading are so good Cass." I smile just thinking about them, how they were exactly what I was looking for. "Do you want to tell me about them?" He asks as he lifts me up onto my knees with only one of his hands, making me rise above the water. "No," I shake my head. "These ones are just for me." I grinned, turning around. "Okay." He places a soft kiss to my bare shoulder before placing his soapy hand on my middle, then lathering all over my body with his calloused, large hands. "What'd you eat today?" He asks softly, expecting me to answer as if his rough hands weren't rubbing along the small of my back or the side of my waist. "Leftovers from dinner last night," I manage to utter as soon as I regain control of my thoughts.
"Mm, what are you thinking for dinner tonight?" His voice was as gentle as his touch, reverberating from right beside my ear. He knew exactly what he was doing and I wasn't going to fall for it. "I don't—" My breath hitched as both of his hands round my ribs and cup my breasts. "You don't what?" He prompts and his taunts makes me close my eyes. "I don't know." I confess.
I can feel him smile against the curve of my neck. He begins to knead my breasts, giving them extra care compared to my other body parts. He places soft kisses up my neck and I slowly sink down so I'm sitting on my knees, giving him access to my jaw and my ear. "Cass." My hand clamps around one of his wrists but his ministrations don't relent, his other hand beginning to circle around the hardened peak of my breast. "Sweetheart." He taunts. "Have I told you you're beautiful today?" He asks and I think back on it. Then shake my head no. "Hm, that's disappointing." He sighs then kisses my cheek. "You're beautiful." He states it with so much confidence it sounds more like a fact. "I'm naked." I correct and I can feel his smile spread along his lips. "Exactly, my beautiful wife." He says softly before pecking my cheek once more. One of his hands moves away from my breast but the other continues its movements.
His rough fingers trail past my collar bone, up the column of my neck, and to my chin where he pulls my head to the side, directed towards him. "My very beautiful wife." He corrects and it takes everything in me not to smile at the sappiness of it. He presses his lips against mine and I can no longer contain it, I allow the smile to spread. I shift the angle of my body to face him before wrapping my arms around his neck. "I think I'll take that reward now." I whisper against his soft lips and he nods in understanding, his hands trailing down to my hips.
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wandanatskitten · 2 months
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A Perfect Bath
This is my first story on here so I hope you like it. I’ve had it in my notes for a while (like almost a year apparently) and I’ve been thinking about posting soooooo here it is. Why not do it for funsies.
Minors DNI 18+
Not really any warnings just smut and fluff
Synopsis: Wanda being a perfect wife and drawing you a bubble bath to relax. But the only thing that would make it better is if she joins you.
1.2k words Enjoy!
When I closed my eyes and took a deep sigh, I could finally feel my muscles relax as the hot water of the bath overtook my body. The fresh scent of lavender coating the atmosphere as the steam rose pass my senses. And the deep sea of bubbles that intricately hid my lack of innocence below it.
“Is there anything else you need, moya lyubov'?” Wanda’s sweet voice broke through the silence.
I opened my eyes to see her lighting a match and transferring the flame to a few candles around the bathroom before switching the lights off. The darkened room only adding to my content state.
I sighed out an answer of praise, “You draw the best baths.”
“Is there any way I can make it better?”
Her question pulls an adoring smile onto my face. Wanda has always been the most caring partner. And it was moments like these, where she would do the simplest thing, such as to run me a bath after coming back from a long day of work. So, naturally, there was only one correct answer to her question.
“You could join me.” I tell her.
“Well, I don’t want to disturb your peace.” She tilts her head.
“Refusing me would disturb my peace.”
And with a simple chuckle, I knew I had her. Not that she was truly ever one to deny me, especially in these circumstances.
Her eyes never left me while I studied her every movement that shadowed in the dancing flames. One by one, an article of clothing was removed slower than I had the patience for. Her shirt lifted to reveal her soft and desirable skin. And my relief for her lack of bra didn’t go unnoticed when her teasing was paired with a smirk. Her slender fingers began to spark my own imagination when they tucked themselves into her waistband, and with the same pace as her shirt, she pulled her bottoms down.
“You go any slower and the water will be cold before you dip a toe.” I couldn’t help but defend the helplessness she suddenly put me in. Wanda loved to work me up in more ways than one. And I’ll be damned if I stop her. If my hand even dared to reach and pull her panties down faster, she’d swat me away and deny the pleasure she makes me desperately crave. To be teased by the woman I love is a blessing and a curse.
She only responds to my desperate attempt at making her move faster with a raspy laugh. And contrary to my words, the water seemed hotter than before when she took her chance and stepped in behind me.
My former state of relaxation, quickly replaced with a tense throbbing between my legs. And with no surprise, her teasing didn’t stop outside of the tub.
Her hands wrap around my waist and drew light scratches up my sides. Inching closer and closer to the valley of my breast. Her hands massage me softly as a low moan finds its way to my ears. The sound of her enjoying my body as much as I do hers, causes a new flood of arousal where I need her most.
My breathing falters when one hand pinches my nipple and the other glides beneath the bubbles. Only to make its way pass my heat and grip my thigh. A groan replaces an expected moan with her last moment of building tension.
And for the third time she laughs at my submissive need to feel her inside of me.
“How can I touch you properly, if you’re hiding behind closed legs?” She questions.
In my spurring desire for relief, I had clenched my legs to feel any form of friction. Which caused her to roughly grip the inside of my thigh and guide me into a more vulnerable position.
As her fingers walked their way back, a silent moan found its way to my lips. The small circles around my clit causing me to flinch and buck my hips. I could’ve came right now from the way she worked me up. Just the idea of her finally touching me was enough to pull me closer to my climax.
“How’s this?” She whispers, placing a kiss to my temple and applying more pressure on my bundle of nerves.
I closed my eyes, only focused on the way her hands caress me. “More…please.” I tell her and she complies without a thought.
Her fingers glide through my folds, my arousal making it easier to accept two fingers even though we’re in water.
The new atmosphere took over in the form of my moans and whimpers. Along with the splashing of water caused by my shaking legs.
The temperature change between the hot water and cool air on my nipples as the water rocked. The feeling of her lips sucking the skin on my neck and biting love marks into the abused skin. And the deep rasp of Wanda whispering sweet praises into my ear. “God, you’re so perfect. The way you wrap around my fingers. You were made for me.”
Nothing was paired better with her talented hands. God, the way her thumb keeps the right amount of pressure on my clit and continuously has me whimpering her name. Only for her to tell me, “I’m right here, detka. I’m right here.”
While one of my hands seeks comfort behind her neck. Keeping me from sliding into the water and simultaneously pulling her into a kiss.
Her tongue easily finding its way into my mouth while the two fingers inside of me extract the most explicit moans meant for Wanda’s ears only. “Don’t…don’t stop.” I moaned between breathes.
He fingers curled perfectly, running over that sweet spot she seems to find so easily. The faster she fucks me the more my hips try to ride with her pace. My body shooting into an uncontrollable spasm as my other hand clutches her wrist. More pleas escape my lips before turning into mumbles and desperate moans. Gasping under her hold as my orgasm builds. My walls clenching around her digits, not wanting the moment to end.
“That’s it baby, let go for me.”
And in a few short moments I do exactly that. What was once silent moans, hastily turned into a mix between cuss words, Wanda’s name, and throaty moans that came from the pit of my orgasm.
And not once did her hands relent. Instead one arm grounded me before I could get too much water on the floor and the other continued to work me through my climax. Only slowing down to the rhythm of my breaths and eventually to a complete stop.
Both of her hands return to my breast while she kisses my shoulder. A low rumble of a moan breaks from her, luring me out of my hazy state. Closely putting me into a state of mind for round two.
“You’re right, I do make the best baths.” She says, this time causing me to laugh before settling into her.
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gatorlovebot · 8 months
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read more of my king!simon blurbs here
you had accompanied simon far, far outside of the kingdom for a long stretch of days for a reconciliation hearing with another kingdom.
it was you’re first time ever taking a train and during the whole ride there you marveled at the beautiful scenery you drove past. the train car was also very comfortable. plush seats that allowed you to relax on the way there.
the way home on the other hand, was a different story. there was a delay in your travel for some reason or another that set back your return to the castle by hours. the sun already setting by the time the train started moving. the delay put everyone in a sour mood. except, of course, for simon’s secretary.
you’re roused from your sleep when a big presence seemingly throws all of its body weight into the seat, pressed close to you. you know it’s simon before he even talks. “fucking twat won’t shut up about the goddamn treaty.” he grumbled.
you settled back into your seat, shoulders bumping against simon’s. “what did you expect, your highness?”
“i expect to get some fucking peace and quiet.” he griped, tugging on the blanket you had draped over your legs, instead of just asking to share. once you had settled the blanket over the two of you he let out a heavy sigh, “sometimes it seems like you’re the only one that gets it.”
you hum in agreement, “i spend the most time with you out of anyone.” you sink back into the plush seat, cheeks smushing into simon’s shoulder. “i also have common sense.” you giggle to yourself.
“that you do.” he agrees.
you all finally arrive at the castle in the dead of night, simon ordering everyone to go back to their quarters for the night for rest. he turns up the steps to his chambers without a word, signaling to everyone to leave him alone for the rest of the night. you still followed, knowing your day was not done until the king was in bed.
he opts out of a shave with the promise he’ll let you do it in the morning. his bath is hot but mostly out of necessity. after a long day of travel he stinks but is too tired to really soak in the tub like he would prefer, knowing that he'd rather sink back into bed instead of dragging the task out.
you lay out his sleeping garments and once he’s out of the tub you sit down at his writing desk, back turned a little bit to give him some privacy. before you know it your heavy eyelids are drooping shut and you’re slumped over the desk.
simon turns to you, now dressed in the sleep garments you picked out for him. your head is tilted down and he can hear your soft little snores. he’s crossing the distance to you in seconds without even thinking, reaching underneath your legs to hoist you up into his arms.
you startle awake and jerk in his grip, having been much more asleep than you realized. “simon?” you question as he sets you down on the edge of his bed.
you watch as he walks to the other side of the bed, pulling back the blankets. “you should just stay here tonight, no use in you walking all the way down to your quarters in the middle of the night. can’t have you falling on your face if you shut your eyes for too long.”
“simon, i can’t just do that.” you protested. “i can have one of your guards walk me down if you’re so worried.”
he groaned, “no, just,” he huffs and makes his way back over to his closet, the one that holds his everyday clothes. he pulls out a shirt, soft and long, something he’d wear to sleep in the hotter months.
“here,” he tosses it towards you, “just wear this.”
you look at the soft fabric in your hands, contemplating what to do. simon seemed to be in no mood to argue, but you know he would let you leave if you really wanted to. your sleeping quarters were all the way on the other side of the castle, you could cry just thinking about the trek. and his bed was so much more comfortable than your’s. but how would that look? his little handmaiden not coming back to her own bed? the rumors would be something awful in the morning.
“love,” his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “just put it on.”
his soft plea makes up your mind for you. you reach down to unclasp your shoes as you try to ignore the smug little look on his face. you twist your arm to reach back to undo the buttons of your dress but as you struggle to reach the ones up by your neck you feel the bed dip behind you, simon’s fingers working the buttons undone easily, “let me.” he whispers.
you take a deep breath as more and more of your back is exposed to him, his hand trailing down to the last button. he shifts again, “i won’t look.”
with his promise you stand and let the dress pool at your legs, pulling the sleep shirt over your head. you walk back over to his desk, carefully placing your dress over the back of the chair so it doesn’t look too wrinkled in the morning when you inevitably have to go back to your quarters to start your day again.
when you turn back to the bed simon has properly sprawled himself out on one side, underneath the blankets, head cradled by silk lined pillows. you almost feel giddy, as you approach the bed, about to experience a piece of luxury you never thought you ever would.
his soft mattress seems to mold to your body as you sink into it and you can’t suppress the satisfied sigh that leaves your lips as your head finally meets the pillows. simon keeps a respectable distance and before you can even worry about what tomorrow will bring, the world has gone dark again.
you awake to sunlight streaming through the thick curtains that you forgot to close the night before. there’s a warm weight across your back. simon.
you don’t know what time it is, but the deep snores emanating from behind you tells you that he won’t be up anytime soon. you selfishly curl yourself deeper into his embrace and your stomach dips when he in turn squeezes you tighter to his chest.
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iamasaddie · 6 months
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if I'm still alive, my regrets are few
PIMP!Joel masterlist
paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader
rating: explicit
word count: 6k
summary: still scared of what's to come your brain comes up with an unexpected escape plan, that forses you to learn things about yourself
warnings (for the chapter): FonF 69 (thank you @milla-frenchy for the inspiration and prompt), oral m receiving, fingering, questionable sex positions but it works in my head; light praise kink; light dirty talk, Tess is a queen
a/n: wow, it's here, isn't it? i can't believe my eyes. un-betaed, finished at midnight, i will come back to edit if there are any magor mistakes i didn't see on my fifth reread. hope you enjoy it, don't forget to leave a comment!
ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
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“Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck!” 
The smell of the burning food hit your nose and you ran out of the bathroom, hands covered in soapy foam up to your elbows. When you left Joel last night, it was with the heavy burden of guilt. You knew you shouldn’t have done that, yet you did it anyway and now you faced the consequences. Joel had more than every right to be angry with you, but you felt that nagging pang, that someone was rightfully mad at you, that he was mad at you, and it made you feel sick to your stomach. 
You've been tossing and turning all night, expecting for Joel to show his face like he did the first night, but it looked like sex made him less of a light sleeper. Unable to find calmness in unconsciousness, you got up, making up your mind.  
Obviously, you couldn't take what you did back, and you'd already said you were sorry, but you thought you could go an extra step, do something nice for Joel. If not to mend your relationship, then to at least make sure he wouldn't give you five clients in one day.
You shuddered. 
You made peace with yourself, praying, meditating, and just turning off your brain accepting that the day had finally come. You knew that you learned enough to be a decent birdie, even though your confidence was still lacking. Sometimes you thought that you had some kind of a know-at-all syndrome, like you needed to know everything and maybe more to finally walk with you head up. Shaking your head, you sighed, there was no way Joel would spend any more of his time on you, he made that clear, but at least you could part on good terms.
That was how you ended up flooding his small bathroom with foam caused by using too much detergent, and burning the eggs you decided to make for breakfast at the same time.
You hurried to take the smoking pan off the stove, but the handle was too hot so you ended up dropping it barely escaping your feet.
“What the hell's goin' on?” Joel's groggy voice was not a surprise, yet you hoped you'd have some time to clean up. Plastering the sweetest smile you could manage, you looked up at him.
“Good morning, Joel, I made breakfast!”
He  looked at your feet where the pan was still smoking, eggs burned to a crispy black edge, and raised his eyebrows. “If that's a good mornin', I'm afraid to ask what a bad one looks like.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, you seem to say that a lot.” He clenched his jaw and brought his hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks and bringing some color to them. “Can you fix that? I'll go wash up. We’ve got a long day.”
You just nodded, squatting to get the pan. The burnt smell made your eyes water, and you hurried to drop it in the sink, throwing away the egg remnants and filling the pan with water.
Water.
“What the fuck happened in the bath?!”
Fuck.
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You pushed reheated yesterday’s dinner around your plate, every piece of food sticking to your throat, making it almost impossible to swallow. Joel in front of you didn’t seem to have such a problem. When he finished shoveling down the last bits of breakfast - both of you kept the space around you drenched in silence - he moved the plate away and leaned back on the chair. He tilted his head to the side a little, scratching the spot where the hair was missing on his outgrown stubble.
“Nervous?” His voice startled you, and you dropped the fork on the table creating more irritating noise. 
“Nah,” you tried to brush off, but he looked at you intently, and you gave up. “Yeah, a lot.”
Joel nodded like he wasn’t expecting any other answer, he dropped his hand from his face and placed both of them on the table, hands in fists but not tense. “Don’t be.” He said simply, and you wanted to laugh at his ignorance. Like it was him that was going to sell his body to strangers. “You’re a good girl, have a good cunt. You’ll be just fine.”
You choked on air hearing his compliment but still mumbled thanks, not really convinced by his words. Joel let out a long breath, patting his stomach with one hand with the other still on the table.
“What are you nervous about?”
It was the longest conversation you had in the last three days, and you felt kind of grateful. Even if he didn’t really show it, you knew he’d just leave you wallowing in terror if at least a tiny bit of him didn’t care about you. That made you feel warm inside. Perhaps a burnt breakfast and half washed laundry was a key to a man’s heart.
“I don’t think I know…” you started slowly, trying to find the right words inside your brain. “I don’t know everything I need to know. Like,” a couple dozens of examples ran through your mind but you landed on the least helpful one. “What was the weirdest thing a client asked?”
Joel raised his brows, dark brown pools hidden under them looked at you with wonder. Clearly, he didn’t expect that. He sat up straighter, while still trying to keep his voice nonchalant. 
“We’re not some… fetish club. Everything that happens at ‘Eden’ is pretty classical. Maybe…”
He stopped himself, and that only grabbed your attention more. You leaned on the table, as if moving closer to Joel would make him speak. Your bones were trembling with all the ideas your brain provided. How bad was it? Did they hang people up with hooks? Could clients cut you for the right price? Were they allowed to shove stuff in your? Your pussy clenched in fear.
“What?” You heard your voice tremble, already wound up from your own thoughts. 
“I dunno,” Joel shrugged his shoulders and swiped his thumb over his brow, making the hairs stick out a little. “Sometimes women come and ask for a girl. But I wouldn’t call it weird. It’s still sex.”
For a moment you felt the weight of the world dropping from your shoulders. If woman on woman was the weirdest thing happening in that place, it was far from Sodom and Gomorrah playing out in your head.  But as soon as relief came it was washed away.
“Wait, women?”
Joel nodded simply. “What, you have a problem with that?”
“No, I…” Fuck. You had just learned what sex was like with a man, and here you were, going somewhere where you needed to be Devil’s favorite call girl, who knew the tricks and secrets. And it wasn’t the fact that there could be women in your bed that was making you nervous, it was the fear of being unable to give them pleasure. The thought of an exasperated sigh followed by a condescending ‘it’s okay, sweetie’ in a fake, almost synthetic female voice in your head made you shiver. “I don’t know.”
“You don't know if you’re okay with having sex with a woman?” You kept your silence, not even able to give the answer to yourself, let alone Joel. But he kept giving ideas, followed by bright  even if blurred pictures in your mind. “What if there’s a threesome? A client, you and one of my other girls?”
Now it was just getting scarier and scarier. It was one thing to disappoint just one woman, but to have an audience?
“No, I mean… I think I’m okay with having sex with women, I just never did, so I don’t think I can…” You tried to explain yourself, failing miserably. “It’s easier with men, you’re pretty basic in your pleasure.”
Joel barked out a laugh and you couldn’t ignore the warm twitch of your heart. You liked it when he laughed, he had a very special rasp to it, and he did it so rarely that you learned to treasure it.
“Week ago you couldn’t speak about sex without flustering, and now you’re what, dick whisperer?”
“I don't mean..-”
“I know what you mean. It's okay, I won't send you girls, yet.”
“Or maybe…”
An idea punched you in the head like a bright light early in the morning. Here it was, your salvation. Or, at least, postponement. You didn’t let yourself dwell on it, scared that you’d back up immediately, but as if Joel read your mind he tugged the words out of you with a simple question.
“Yes?”
“If you're fine with that… Maybe you could invite one of your birds over? To… to practice? The more I know the more money you'll get, no?”
You were scared to raise your eyes to meet Joels, instead studying all the ways you could bend your fingers this and that way. That was until you heard Joel’s chair creaking, and he took the similar position as you, with his elbows on the table, his head leaning to you so close that you almost touched.
“What has gotten into you, hm?” He whispered incredulously, you heard amusement in his voice.  “Are you becoming a little nympho?”
“A whompho?” 
You raised your head, your eyes immediately caught in the honey trap of his. He studied you for a while, and then got out the table, the chair legs screeching against the wooden floor. You didn’t move, just followed him with your eyes as he got dressed and prepared to leave the apartment.
“Clean up in here, we're having a guest over tonight.”
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Your arms and knees were sore when you finished cleaning up. Taking in the results of your work you smiled proudly, the floors were clean, the blankets were folded, and it even almost stopped smelling like burnt eggs. You wanted to stretch on the couch, but were afraid that you’d fall asleep again, so you opted for sitting at the table, counting the little cracks in the old wood. Time was passing torturously slowly and you jumped at every sound you heard. But amidst the lingering anxiety, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You tried to imagine how your evening would go, thinking about who Joel would bring and if he’d participate himself, and instead of being terrified at the idea of another woman in your bed, you felt arousal painting your panties.
A woman, just like you. Soft, gentle, complicated. Beautiful. Your mouth salivated. What would it feel like to kiss lips that are so similar to yours, what would you experience if you dive into the wetness of someone else’s pussy, bringing them pleasure like you learned to bring it to yourself.
You never thought about this aspect of yourself. Never had an opportunity to fully explore your attractions, so you just went with something that was automatically given, but now, you were thrilled. This whole experience became something way more important for you than you expected in the first place, you didn’t know if you were happy or terrified. 
You heard the key turning in the lock, two pairs of boots stepping inside the apartment followed by two voices: one you knew intimately, and the other you didn’t know at all. Your heart raced as you stood up, caught between anticipation and anxiety.
A woman walked in, her eyes landing on you immediately. You tried saying hello, but the words stuck in your throat and you just stared back. She was gorgeous. Easily older than you, her eyes bearing more intellect and experience than you thought you could gather your whole life. She gave you a once over, stopping at your bare legs, covered to the mid-thigh by the t-shirt you borrowed.
Joel followed her into the kitchen and as soon as he stepped inside, you felt like you could breathe. Like everything was under control now.
“So,” the woman in front of you didn’t look very interested in anything besides you, her eyes watching your every twitch and tremor. She was calm, her voice quiet but strong. “You’re the famous rabbit, huh?” 
You saw Joel tense up, the knuckles of his clenched fists became wide, and he looked at the woman with something like warning, which she ignored plopping down on a chair and taking his untouched cup of coffee from the table, the only thing you were afraid to pour out knowing how attached the man was to his caffeine.
You didn’t know you were famous already. Did that mean Joel was advertising you or something? Your cheeks burned. The woman in front of you was intimidating. No more than Joel, but intimidating nonetheless. It sent an unexpected shiver downpour spine and straight to your core. There was something undeniably sexy about her, you didn’t even wonder why Joel chose her for what you were about to do. She was still looking at you like she was expecting an answer, even though it was quite obvious. You nodded your head, coming closer and sitting down next to her.
“Guess I am.” You put your hand on the table, and soon after saw the woman letting go of Joel’s cup and placing her still hot palm on top of your, gently brushing over your knuckles while still looking into your eyes.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Tess.”
Tess, the sound of her name was like a whisper, like a delicious hiss of meat on a hot pan, something that made your heart race, and your cunt clench. 
“It’s nice to meet you too, Tess.” You loved tasting her name on your tongue, her hand soft and warm around yours. You didn’t lie, it really was nice to meet her.
“You seem a little frightened, little rabbit,” she tilted her head, finding your eyes and smiling at you. “Did this big old dog scare you?”
She didn’t need to point at Joel for you to know who she meant. You shook your head, embarrassment heating up your neck.
“Then what is it, baby? You can tell Tess, I swear I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
“I just never, I…” You looked at Joel, and Tess did the same.
“Joel, can you leave us for a moment?”
You looked at Joel, taking in his form. His brooding form was still as a constipated statue, his jaw tense, you could almost hear his teeth grinding. He didn’t look at you, instead staring Tess in the eyes, as if communicating wordlessly. She handled his look without batting an eye.
“Tess…”
There was warning in his voice. You’ve heard it before once, but you still got the shivers running down your spine. Tess, on the other hand, remained unaffected, waving him off.
“Us girls need to chat. We’ll meet you in the room.” She vaguely pointed towards where his room was, and gave him a little smile before whispering sultry, “get naked, Daddy.”
You furrowed your brows at the nickname she gave him, something pinching your insides, but you shook the feeling off, turning your attention back to Tess. You didn’t know how she did it, but Joel listened to her, barely nodding and retreating to his room.
“Men, right?” She huffed, taking one of your hands in both of hers and squeezing. “So, rabbit, why you tremblin’?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Somehow it was easier to admit that to her. Maybe because she was a woman, or because she looked at you with such warmth that you took a chance trusting her.
“Does anyone?” Tess leaned back on the chair, still keeping one of your hands between hers. The gesture made you at ease, like she was taking all the stress away with a gentle brush of her thumbs.
You smiled, lowering your head a little. She did not look like a stupid woman, but you still decided to elaborate. “No, I mean like in bed, I don’t know what I’m doing in bed.”
“Again, does anyone?” Tess shrugged her shoulders. "Baby, sex ain’t math, you can’t have a perfect algorithm to make every encounter you have a hundred percent success.”
Unbelievable. She was fucking unbelievable. The look in the woman’s eyes didn’t change a bit when you bared your insecurities to her. You were no-one to Tess, maybe you were even a pain in the ass since Joel clearly took her here to ‘work’, and yet there was nothing that gentle care and understanding falling from her lips. Like she was afraid to hurt you, to scare you off. Such a strong-looking, intimidating woman with a confident stride and a sharp wit, and yet she handled you with such delicacy. 
“Look, yes, we obviously have pleasure spots, kinks, fetishes that get us off without a fail, but you can only learn that with a partner. Someone who’s either open and loud about everything, or someone that has been with you for a long time. There’s no shortcut to a perfect sexual experience.”
You admired her ability to effortlessly navigate the sensitive topic with grace and honesty. In that moment she reminded you of Joel. She was telling you everything you were dying to hear, and still the nagging itch of hesitance disturbed your feelings. “But what if I mess up? Men are so much easier, you stroke their dick and they cum, easy peasy.”
“Don’t tell that to Joel,” she laughed quietly as you continued.
“Women are…”
Tess didn’t let you finish, softly slapping one of her hands on top of yours. “You know what, let me take the lead today, okay?”
“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t exactly know how to take what she was offering. 
“I mean,” Tess leaned into you, your lips almost touching, “I am going to bury my face in your gorgeous pussy and show you all the right moves, and then you can do the same to me, okay?”
“I..” You licked your lips, your breathing speeding up.
“I take that as a yes.”
Tess stood up, not letting your hand out, and tugged you closer to her. You felt the heady, raw smell of her, mixed with something woody, almost like Joel. She dragged you towards Joel’s room, her arm around your waist keeping you close.
You stopped right before she opened the door.
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“Sure, baby.”
“Why are you… doing this?”
“That’s a story for another time, little one.” Her eyes gloomed over with something that contradicted her confident smile. You didn’t need her telling you the who’s and why’s to know that this was not her first choice. For the first time you felt sick from being right. You didn’t want to be right, not with her. Not with this woman that calmed you down with one flirty smile, that looked at you like you were worth something. Like you were worth a lot. She placed her warm palm on your cheek, brushing your cheekbone with her finger and making you look back at her. “But it’s not as bad as it might look. And Joel, he cares. He really does.”
She didn’t wait anymore, opening the door and dragging you with her.
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You realized that nerves and anxiety got the best of you when Tess closed the door behind you both, and gently shoved you towards Joel, who was already sitting naked on the made up bed, stroking his half hard cock lazily. The look of his massive hand going up and down the intimately familiar to you shaft was the last thing you could remember before giving your body off to Tess to deal with it how she deemed worthy. 
She was gentle with you, undressing you both piece by piece, and then guiding you on the bed and laying down, completely ignoring Joel with his back to you. You were quiet, both of you, letting your bodies do the work.
“Don’t be shy, baby, let yourself go,” Tess whispered, before claiming you trembling lips with hers, and placing your hands on her soft breasts, her hands on top of yours and squeezing.
Oh, what a new feeling it was. She was all tender flesh and soft moans as your bodies started grinding against each other. At one point she tugged you on top of her, making you straddle her hips as your wetness became one mixture of pleasure and excitement. There was no shame, there was no awkwardness, just raw desire to give. Give more, more, more, hear her moaning louder and sweeter in your ears. Tugging on the long silky strands of her hair as her fingers found your heat without question, letting you know what a woman could do to you. How unique and unforgettable her touch could be.
You felt hers coming up to your eyes, pleasure and gratitude overwhelming you as Tess plunged two of her fingers inside of your drenched pussy, but they couldn’t leave your eyes as she kissed them away.  You swiped your nose along hers, closing your eyes and for the first time initiating the sweet kiss between you.
“It’s all good, but we aren’t making love here, birdies.”
Joel’s voice was loud as a slap in an empty room. With Tess under you, in you, you completely forgot that the man was in the room, and he seemed to notice that. You tried to turn your head and look at him, but Tess grabbed your cheeks, still sealing your lips together even if for a moment. She let you go with a wet swipe of her tongue on your lower lip, “your lips are delicious, baby, but let me taste that beautiful cunt. Turn around and sit on my face.”
"What?” You whispered back in shock, not sure if Joel should hear what you say or not.
"Do as I say, okay? Be a good girl for me.”
You nodded dumbly. At that moment you wanted to be everything Tess could ever want, so if she wanted you to be on her face, who you were to say no.
You fought the awkwardness you felt as you took the position as fast as you could, immediately ending up on the same level with the woman’s pussy. You felt weird, crowding her head with your thighs, not exactly sure what you were supposed to do next, but Tess took the lead, roping your legs with her arms and practically shoving your face in her pussy, making you almost lay on her with your whole weight.
She didn’t wait for a signal, or a command from Joel, diving in your wetness eagerly, like it was her second nature, and - oh fuck - maybe it was her first.
You could barely contain the sweet moans as Tess let her lips wander and nip at your soft folds, swiping her tongue deep inside you before pulling out and gently circling your clit. She was less hungry, but more determined, perfectly aware of every little spot that made you twitch and shake. 
With her tangy smell invading your senses, you didn’t even need to make a decision before tentatively sliding your own tongue through her leaking core. Apparently, what you thought was awkward, felt absolutely different for Tess because you felt her moan deep inside you before you could hear it. “Go on, baby, just like that.” She said, before giving each of your thighs a small bite and returning her attention back on your pussy. You didn’t need to be told twice, as you returned to your caresses, trying to replicate everything Tess did to you. When she plunged her tongue deep in your entrance, you greedily gulped down her arousal, when she sucked on your clit, repeatedly swiping the tip of her tongue up and down over your bud, you made sure that you gave her the same attention.
Either you were less sensitive, or she was more turned on, but as you brought two of your hands beneath her asscheeks, squeezing them and trying to press her glistening cunt harder in your face, what you could swear looked like you were trying to eat her alive, Tess started shaking, her movements on your pussy coming to a halt as her back arched up, lifting you both up. 
Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful sound it was, you thought to yourself, still trying to lick up every drop of her that she left on your lips.
You felt the bed dip, and then someone’s hand lifting your head up by your hair.
“Good job, now you get a treat.”
“What?” Of course it wasn’t just someone, it was Joel, the man of whose existence you completely forgot as every part of your mind and body was dedicated to make a woman beneath you feel as much pleasure as you could. But he was always there, standing as a shadow, leaning on a wall with his hands tight in his fists, and his cock furious with arousal and untouched.
Now that same cock was centimeters away from your puffy lips, still glistening with Tess’ cum.
"You worked Tess beautifully, so let’s play out a scenario when you also have a man in the room. You wanted to learn, right?"
You could barely understand what he was saying, but with the woman’s lips back on your pussy and working you up to your orgasm vigorously, nothing looked more attractive than Joel’s cock in your mouth. The thought of his cum mixing with her in your mouth made you let out another stream of arousal and Tess hummed in your entrance.
You placed your hands on Joel’s hips, changing your position a little, but still straddling the woman’s face as he guided his cock in your waiting mouth.
“Fu-uck,” he exhaled, as you tried to shove as much of him as you could inside your mouth and moaned as his salty taste complemented the one of Tess’. Almost on autopilot, you hollowed your cheeks, saliva and cum that coated your lips made the glide of your mouth easier, and you fell into a perfect dance, as Tess fucked your hole with her tongue, and Joel fucked your mouth with his cock.
It was deliciously heavy and throbbing on your tongue, filling up the limited space of your mouth and inching down to tease the back of your throat with the fat head.
"What a perfect little whore, just fucking - God, you’re so greedy for my cock, just my cock, nothing else matters, baby.” You were delusional, every cell of your body screaming and itching, every pore electrifying as you felt Joel grab your throat with his wide palm and taking all the control from you. His cock relentlessly fucked into your heat, his words slurred and understood only by him, like he was just unable to keep his mouth shut. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby, feel your little throat real good, I know how bad you want it, saw you salivating over me, fuck, fuck, take it, just take it, baby.” His movements became erratic as his cock burst deep inside your throat. Just as you predicted, his salty, slightly bitter taste was a perfect combination for Tess’ honey still clinging to your palette. You didn’t expect Joel to cum so fast, when you were still on the verge of orgasm yourself, but you couldn’t complain. The man was the solution to your pleasure, the discovery you still tried to ignore, and now it was just one   little lick, one suck from those skillful lips, and you felt you would - -
“That’s enough.” Joel’s voice was barely loud enough to pierce through the moans that continued leaving your opened mouth, and the deafening rush of your blood as Tess continued sloppily slurping on your pussy, shoving her tongue in your sensitive hole just to make you beg and whimper. Joel’s hand grabbed your head that you lowered as soon as he slid his softening dick out, and he yanked it up, making you look at him. His eyes concentrated on a drop of his cum that managed to escape your lips. He swiped his thumb and shoved it inside your open mouth, not reacting when you bit at it with your teeth while also licking the last remnants of him off. “I fucking said stop, Tess.”
Surprisingly to you, she listened. Her mouth unlatched from your puffy, glistening cunt, and you heard her smack her lips, saying nothing.
“No-no-no,” you started whining, Joel’s finger pressing on your tongue made the words slurred. You were so close, you knew, a couple more licks from Tess and you’d spray her face with your cum. You looked at Joel with confusion and anger.
He ignored the daggers from you, released his finger from your mouth furrowing his brows when you grazed his skin with your top teeth too hard, and patted Tess in her thigh. “You can go, birdie.”
“What? But I didn’t get to..-” you were interrupted by Tess gently pushing you off herself and you fell in your ass, body still buzzing with the undelivered orgasm. Tess made a quick work of her clothes, the woman got dressed even faster than undressed, and the look of curiosity that painted her face when she looked at Joel didn’t escape your attention. As she finished buttoning up, she came back to the bed where you were still naked, silent, and confused. Her soft hand caressed your cheek, and she lowered herself to be in the same face level with you. 
“Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna be fine.” She sealed her words with a gentle kiss, that you could barely feel on your lips. 
As soon as the door behind her closed, you turned to Joel, staring him dead in the eyes. Was it his way of torturing you? “Why didn’t you let me cum?”
“We talked about it already on your first night, sometimes the client won’t be able to make you cum. Most of the time they won’t. But you still need to enjoy the process, you know. At the end of the day what’s more important is that your client comes, and both of yours did.”
“But she could make me come, Joel. You just stopped her!” You felt the boiling frustration overwhelm your senses, your hands twitched with violent intentions. You wanted to slap him right across his smug face.
“Could, couldn’t. It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone.”
He shrugged his shoulders, absolutely comfortable in his nakedness, his dick soft but still impressing and glistening from your saliva.
“Fucking great, just absolutely fuckin’ royal shit.” You shuffled from the bed, ripping the sheets you tugged over yourself to cover your nakedness and stomping on the way out of the room.
“Where are you going?” You turned back to look at Joel, he still didn’t move, but he didn’t smile anymore, instead he looked almost… disappointed? 
“I am going to shove whatever you have in your freezer up my pussy, because this,” you vaguely pointed at your lower region, “is just painful.”
“Don’t you want to come?”
“Are you fucking with me?”
“Not yet.”
Fucking Joel, with his fucking riddles and his fucking confidence and that stupid fucking dimple when he smiles at you like that.
“What’s the point of this lesson if you let me come then?” You still didn’t hide neither anger nor frustration from your voice, but this time they were accompanied by curiosity. 
“The lesson is pretty simple, if you don’t get to come with your client, you can always come to me,” Joel pointed at himself, and it should’ve looked ridiculous with his naked state, but it didn’t, and it pissed you off, but more so it turned you on. “And I’ll help you as soon as you ask.”
“Will you help me?” You took a few steps towards him, already feeling arousal wetting the skin between your thighs. 
“Told ya, just need to ask me that’s all.” 
His eyes were fixed on you, seeing every move, and you already knew the hunger inside them. You didn’t need to ask, he would still give it to you. But you still played his game.
“Please, Joel, ” you placed your hands on his naked chest, letting the sheet you held as a cover drop on the floor, and your thumbs stroked his nipples, “make me cum.”
Joel almost shoved you back to the bed, hovering above you, bracketing you with his arms and thighs. You took one look 
“Just like the first time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing the shell of it with his words, “you’re even more riled up now.” Two of his fingers teased your swollen, almost raw from all the abuse clit, and then slowly sank in your pulsing wet entrance. “Bet it’ll only take a couple of strokes.”
You both hated and loved that he was right. You were right there, and Joel’s thick fingers filling you up more than four of Tess’ could just made you wanton. Mad with desire and pleasure he so freely gave to you, you soon became bouncing on his fingers yourself, trying to shove them deeper, trying to feel that sting that ruined you the first time.
“Come on, baby, I feel her squeezing me, she’s so close, let her go, let her cum, she wants it so bad,” he whispered in your neck, tasting the sweat that already covered your body.
“Please, please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for, your mind foggy with pleasure, pain, need, every little thing overwhelming your senses. You felt a sharp, stinging bite on your neck and that served as the last button, pushing you over and soaking Joel’s hand along with his sheets. Your moans overflowed his soft praise, and you didn’t feel the barely-there kiss he let himself leave in the middle of the throbbing bite mark.
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“Am I your birdie now?” You felt weird sensations laying in his bed together. The intimacy of staying so close, the mix of sweat from your bodies mixed on your skin, when you’re not actually having sex felt raw and you hurried to sprinkle it with reality. 
“Nah,” Joel lifted himself up on one elbow and leaned over you to grab a dozen cigarettes tied together by a rubber and a pack of matches. He laid back down, tugged one cigarette out and lit it. The smoke came out from his lips in one steady stream, but he made an attempt of twisting his lips to the side, so he didn’t blow it in your face. Joel continued looking at the ceiling, the only contact left between you two were your sticky shoulders glued back together. “How can you be my birdie, if you’re a rabbit? Rabbits can’t fly.” He finally looked at you, grazing you with a proud smirk. 
Something warm spread inside you when you heard him call you by your nickname. Another wave of excitement spread beneath your skin, like when he so brazenly left a kiss on your neck. But then your heart slowed down, remembrance of what’s to come washing over you. Your sad smile didn’t share his joy, so you quietly sighed, it was your turn to stare at the crumbling plaster above your head. 
“So what? It’s not like any of your birds got wings.” You chuckled softly, the sound catching in your throat.
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don't forget to leave a comment if you liked the chapter 🐇🤍
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jangmi-latte · 10 months
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I don't usually simp for Lilia because the game has made me look at him as our friendly neighborhood grandpa, but like.... imagine meeting General!Lilia while he's on duty- and maybe he helps us with something or we help him out- and from there on a romance slowly blossoms? Just... active duty Lilia who's yet to become Lili-pa and the whole 'waiting for my friend who I want to be my lover to visit me during his break from duty'
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FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD GRANDPA
good riddance mid-war/military romance?!?!? sign me up!!?!?? my brain has been going from camp-healer reader or to villager reader or subordinate reader or even agent reader (captain america and peggy carter type of romance)??? the possibilities are endless but since you emphasized helping we're going with villager who's also a healer reader.
/this can be descriptive and damn has it gotten long.
you can think of this being either fae or human reader but when you mentioned help, seeing an injured lilia who had to limp away from the camp after checking if his men are okay. so, he's in the middle of the woods hissing and sitting against a tree while lifting his clothing to see that big unhealing slash across his abdomen. the blood has already clotted but it's still dangerously huge and dirty and he's trying his best to heal it with his magic but it's concerning how he still feels the pain. plus, he needs to rest both his mana and body.
he will definitely try heating up one of his daggers to press on his wound but before he could even press the searing metal on his skin, that's when a hand stops him and pull the dagger away. it was a surprise, most especially for someone like him to be conscious of every single element around him.
you definitely look like a land of briar resident with your clothing. however, you look absolutely distressed and you're sweating so much it looked like you haven't bathed in days. he'd ask what are you doing but you keep your mouth shut and kneel down beside him. only then did he notice the belt strapped around your hips filled to the brim with antidotes and potions.
he's astonished, to say the least. he was in a daze while you're speaking and he was brought to his senses when he felt the burning sensation of liquid hitting his skin. it's literally smoking that he had to bite down on his gloved wrist to keep himself from screaming. his back arching off the tree while he's gripping your wrist. it hurt but hey, his wound his tingling and healing.
that's when he felt oddly...captivated by you. and as the old fae tradition goes, to he who was serviced must return the favor. he's just staring at you while taking deep breaths and you're looking around as if you're being watched. he assured you that you're safe with him and asked what do you want as gratitude for healing him but you just shook your head. stating that YOU are thanking him for defending the land.
all goes to say, he'd go to the said forest every now and then after you both departed, half-expecting to run into you. there were occasions he would see you crouched by a bush and plucking berries and herbs. he'd strike conversation, often surprising you with his silence and stealth. but eventually, you're warming up to him. he'd give you herbs you've mentioned needing that's only located across the other side of the land.
your presence was calming; during a war, peace was a far-fetched dream for a soldier, a general. when he's stressed, lacks sleep, and just exhausted he'd seek refuge in that very forest. he'd snap at you when you greet him but somehow, you're not affected. scary, yes. but you've known lilia from the constant meetings that you've brought some bottled mist that you claim can calm him down and give him a leveled-head again.
when he suddenly snaps his eyes open, that's when he realised he has fallen asleep without even noticing that he's definitely nonplussed. only then does he notice that he's laying on your lap while you're reading a book. he's bombarding you with questions but needless to say, he's really thankful.
baul would even notice lilia departing from the camp during breaks instead of eating with them that he's tempted to follow the general.
what can he do though? the general can find refuge somewhere else. more like...someone else.
to say he's catching feelings was questionable. other than malleficia, levan, baul, or mallenoa, he has never felt entirely close to someone outside of the royal guards or royalty. instinct driven need to protect you is there — that's what he feels towards the townsfolk anyways, that's what he tells himself.
just what have you done to the general...
might become a fic though 🫶🏻
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