#I’m also SO curious about who he follows

[alexa-fika]

Heyo, how are you? I’m not sure if you celebrate it, but hope you had a great Easter? Would you write another Dokucha story where she’s the daughter of Mihawk and being very secretive whenever she goes somewhere. One day, Mihawk follows her (Crocodile and Buggy follow him too, they’ve got nothing better to do xD) which is easier said than done. She’s very smart (after all she’s Mihawk’s daughter) and tries to make sure not to be followed. Once they find her, they can’t understand what they walked into. Humandrills, Bananawanis, Kung-Fu Dugongs, and many more other animals are living in a secret place together and getting along, and especially, they all love her so so much. Together with her animal family they’re taking care of a wounded Sea King. Buggy is ready to leave the place and never come back, too many fearsome creatures for his taste and Crocodile and Mihawk are just at a loss for words (now Crocodile knows where his pets went, she doesn’t like that he uses them for battles and such, she loves their company and would never want any harm to come to them). Once they sense the three men, all the animals start to become hostile towards them ready to protect Dokucha at all cost.

The Scaly and furry ( mihawk x f!child!reader x crocodile)

A/N I DID IT GUYS AFTER SO LONG I FINALLY DID IT. I din’t have any idea on how to integrate buggy so he kinda got missed out. But here we are another dracule!reader, reader is in ther middle childhood, so young but not a todler but also not a teen. But anyways thank you guys so much for waiting

Mihawk narrows his eyes as once again his daughter had left in a hurry, leaving behind a poor excuse of wanting to explore the outside. His eyes flickering back to his co-worker as he pipes in

“If you’re that curious about what the brat is up to, we can simply follow her,” Crocodile huffs out, a cloud of smoke leaving his mouth as he spoke

It was easier said than done, seeing as his daughter had inherited haki from him, one she had harnessed under both his and Crocodile’s guidance. But it was still not on par with theirs, which made it possible for the two men to evade her detection, following her as she made her wave through the thick bushes until she arrived at a cove hidden away by trees and boulders.

She blinked, looking back

“I thought I felt something…” she murmured, turning back around smiling as she spotted one of her friends waiting for her at the entrance of a more secluded part of the cove.

“Hi Manny, I'm back!” She called to the Dugong, who made some aggressive punching movements her way as they both entered a more enclosed part of the cove

“I know, I’m sorry. Dad and Cruncle are getting suspicious, so it was harder to get this time,” the girl grumbles, letting out a squeak as she was suddenly lifted off the ground, relaxing when she recognized the presence.

“Enrique, you scared me,” she gasped, giggling when the human drill hugged her tighter

“I ‘m sorry; I know I was gone longer than normal; I'm back,” she said, smiling up at the ape that sat in the branches, letting low hoots as he put the girl down again

“I knew you cared, Enrique!”

A louder set of hoots and disgruntled noises left the Humandrill upon hearing this

“Tell yourself that, but I know you care!” She argued back to the growing cacophony of howls and screams, the occasional gecker leaving the ever-increasing group only to be stopped as Manny, now joined with his own group of dugongs, began emitting a series of whistles to get both of them on track

“Ah right, sorry,” she apologized, making haste to a blue hole deeper down the cove, smiling as a colossal beast surfaced when she kneeled next to it

“Hi Musa, how are they doing? I’m sorry it took me a bit, but I brought the medicine. Would you bring them up?” She spoke as she caressed the bananawani’s jaw, grinning when the latter let out a satisfied hiss as she sank back into the depths, returning accompanied both only by more of her kind but with a similar-sized beast being supported by their scaly bodies

She frowns at the Sea King’s state as they weakly glance at her, letting out a weak hiss in greeting

“Here, can you open your mouth?” Smiling when they complied, throwing the medication in their mouth

“You’re bigger, so I had to get a couple…hundred, but it sho-AH

Her words were caught up as, for the second time, she found herself airborne, this time; however, the culprit seemed to be a dusty mass dragging her feet in the air and dangling her upside down

As soon as this happened, as a switch being flicked, all the animals in the room became alert, aggresive, the bananawanis crawling out of the water and standing in front of her now dangling body. The dugongs and Humandrills stood in their own formations, preparing to fight the newcomers. Some of the human drills were quick to try to get the girl down, climbing through branches near her position, only to back down as the sand lashed out at them if they got too close

“It’s okay, guys, I know them,” she explains, trying to calm the growing tension in the cove

“Hi dad, hi Cruncle….what are you guys doing here?”

“I reckon we should be the ones asking that question,” Mihawk spoke, staring up at the girl

“What are you doing near them?” Crocodile growled as the creatures began to advance on them, as he flashed them with his haki in return, grinning when they backed away

“Wait, don’t hurt them! I can explain!” She hurried out

Mihawk quirked an eyebrow at that

“They’re my friends!” She chirps only to turn into a squeal as she is raised higher after a shared glance between the ex-warlords

“Dad!” She whined, a frown on her face

“Where did they come from?”

She pouts at that

“Well?”

“The human drills came with me from our old home, and we found the dugongs at the beach.”

Mihawk glances at Crocodile for confirmation on the latter, already knowing how likely it was for the apes to have followed them to the island, seeing how close they had grown in Kuragaina Island

“Dugongs are native to this area,” he confirms

He hums at that

“And the beasts?”

“I sneaked into Uncle’s gloomy room, and they were just there; they were lonely, so, I kind of, umm, let them go?”

Crocodile lets out a scoff at that

“They are huge predators, the only predators to sea kings, and you let them go because they looked lonely?”

“That’s what I just said, dummy.”

“Watch it brat.”

She sticks out her tongue at him in return

Mihawk rolled his eyes, walking closer to her

“What about the sea king?”

“It’s a baby! It got left by his pod, and he got really sick; he found them when me and Musa were out swimming, and we wanted to help them, well Musa wanted to eat them at first….”

“You are going to be the death of me,” he sighed, catching the child as Crocodile released the sand holding them up

“So…can I come see them again?” She asked the men once they had departed from the cove, much to the chagrin of the animals

They glance at each other before Crocodile begins

“The banawani need to come back.” he started sending her a side glare when she began to protest

“They have a job to do; once they do their job, they are free to go and rendevous with you,” he states

“Job? Do they play with you too, Cruncle? Is their job to keep you company?”

“N-

He pauses at the scathing glare he receives from the swordsman, understanding it was better not to let the young girl know what the reptile’s actual job consisted of

“..They keep me company and help me with some cleaning.”

“Cleaning? Them?” She questions, trying to picture the crocodiles using their huge bodies to tidy up an office

“They get rid of the trash for me.”

“Oh! That sounds like Musa and the rest! They are always hungry,” she laughs

Mihawk nods his head, a silent sign of acknowledgment for the otherwise aloof man

“You have to let me know where you are actually going from now on, no more sneaking out. As long as you do that, you are allowed to continue your peculiar friendship group.”

“Really?!”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, dad!”

A moment of silence envelops the trio as they continue walking, only to be cut short by the girl once again

“Do you want to come to cuddle and play with them with me?”

“No.”

“Worth a shot”

Again thank you for all the kind words I got saying to take my time, and sorry I completely disregard your words cause LISTEN I WANT TO KEEP GIVEN YOU GUYYS

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece x child!reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x child!reader #dracule mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x you #cross guild #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x oc #crocodile x reader #op crocodile #crocodile one piece #mihawk fluff #mihawk imagine #mihawk scenario #bananawani #humandrill #mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x you

[bizlybebo]

jrwi headcannond

?

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY HII ANONNN

this is such an awesome fucking ask to get. ouguohigohoh i’m about to RAMBLE

plspls let me know if the post doesn’t minimize so i can add a “read more” thing i don’t wanna clog peoples dashes

I’ve really only watched PD and Riptide so. take these ^__^ (SPOILERS UP TO RIPTIDE EP109 AND UP TO PD S2 EP19)

Riptide:

- Chip tried to teach Gillion sign language, but he was very confused at first. He didn’t get it because signing “sun” didn’t make a literal sun, etc. He even thought they were magic spells/incantations at one point. Eventually, though, Gill finally understood them— most prominently, the sign for “I love you”. He signed it to Jay during that moment in ep 53, and Chip found the slightest bit of strength during that moment in 109 to curl two fingers in and sign “I love you” to his crew, with what he thought was the last of his strength.

- Mae (May?) Ferin has very curly hair, which was brown but greyed with age. Jay got the vibrant orange hair from her father, but in my brain she has the curls from her mother, and to me that symbolizes how she strikes a balance between being a Ferin and being her own person, following what her mother wants for her (which is just to be happy).

^^^(Ava Ferin had the same hair as her father. She was the spitting image of what a navy captain was meant to be. She was like a mini Jayson growing up.)

- All the Ferins have wings. That’s it. Jayson’s, Jay’s, Ava’s, etc. are white, slightly blue-ish feathers. Drey’s wings are brown and black. His wings are pretty out of shape now, he can’t really fly anymore, but he can still lift them enough to put them over Jay’s, or Ollie’s, or Finn’s shoulders, and it’s like a blanket. He does it to Earl sometimes just because Earl hates it lmao

- Gillion has very long hair and prides himself on all the ways he can braid it into the traditional styles of the Undersea. It’s a slightly different way of braiding than on the oversea, though, so he taught his way of braiding to Jay, who taught her way of braiding to him. They also taught Ollie. who does Drey’s hair for him and occasionally Chip’s if he can be convinced.

- Hair is also a very sacred thing in the Undersea— one only cuts their hair when they have lost a battle, and so long hair is very respectable. When Gill first was exiled to the Oversea, his hip-length hair got cut very short, up to his chin. It grew out gradually over the campaign, but he tried to cut it after the events of 53, only being convinced not to by Jay when she fully understood why he was doing it. Gillion prides himself very much on his hair.

- Jay is dyslexic. In the Feywild, during that one segment, she lost the ability to read because the magic was preying on one of her insecurities, in a sense. Dyslexic Jay the headcanon i truth most.

- Chip has mild apraxia. It’s real to me.

- Also all of albatrio has/had speech impediments cause I said so. Gillion has rhotacism, Jay has a stutter, and Chip had a lisp growing up which still slips out occasionally.

-Joke headcanon that slowly became real to me: Gillion did Chip’s top surgery in ep 15

Prime Defenders:

- MORE SPEECH IMPEDIMENT HEADCANONS CAUSE I LOVE PROJECTING !! Dakota has a lisp/stutter, and Ashe has a general speech disruption. Ashe also has selective mutism ^__^

- To me, Summer and Cantrip had an enemies to lovers sideplot in early to mid season 2. I think Doug probably mentioned how when he was a villain, he worked with this girl Cantrip, who was Ruby’s sister, and Summer got curious and was like “damn. I wonder where she is now” and sought her out to try and talk to her. And literally their early dynamic was Jade going “kys” and Summer being like “i can fix her!!!”

- Xavier and Jade are mlm wlw hostility. Summer and Doug are mlm wlw hostility. Not reaaaally a headcanon but i had to say it.

- William’s family was very religious growing up. He also came from one of those small, Southern hunting towns and so he has the accent and everything (moomin infected my brain with this one <3).

- The PD season 1 finale took place a few days before Halloween, and the four of them had matching costumes planned out together but never did get to wear them.

- Also, to me, the greyscale arc takes place on or very close to Christmas.

- Dakota didn’t really celebrate his birthday nor Christmas for many years because of how lonely those holidays got for him— he didn’t really get a very good birthday/xmas after the events of the Resurgence. However, Tide didn’t know this and got him a birthday gift once, and Dakota ugly cried while hugging him.

- Shockwave was transmasc. He means the world to me. (Also why Tide is such a good hashtag ally)

- Dakota is very scared of spiders for no apparent reason. Whenever they show up he jumps up onto a table or onto Ashe’s back and tries to fight it off with a broom. Ashe is the one who has to take care of it.

- Gender straight up Isn’t Real on Fauna. Vyncent is literally genderless but nobody asked him when he got to Prime so he literally just went along with being he/him’d and didn’t really mind. (this one’s from arachnid lmao)

- Doug and Summer are queerplatonic that’s it that’s the post

- Ashe is a natural blonde, just like Mark, but bleaches their hair. Everyone was fucking shocked to find out about this

- Lightspeed and Wordsmith are also mlm/wlw hostility. real and canon to me

this is literally just the first ones off the top of my head i have so many but i’ve been writing this post for nearly an hour so i think i’ll cut it off here ^__^

#vixen rambles #vixen answers #the PD rambles got LONG and not super comprehensive sorru </3 #jrwi #jrwi riptide #jrwi pd #prime defenders #jrwi headcanon

[littledreamling]

Okay so a couple of days ago, I made a post about making an enjoyable afternoon out of scrolling through Neil Gaiman’s tumblr likes (and I stand by that; if you choose to do so, it will be an afternoon filled with wonder, education, laughter, and not a small amount of confusion as to why he’s liked certain things) and I made the joke that I wasn’t sure if he knew that his likes were public for the world to see (I partially stand by that too; I’m also pretty sure that he just recently learned about tagging, since I’ve never seen him tag anything up until that head pat ask, but I could be very wrong; he’s been on the internet longer than I’ve been alive), but I think there’s more to it than that.

I think he has his likes public for a reason, a very specific, very meaningful reason. You see, tumblr doesn’t have an algorithm. It’s one of the (many) things we tumblr users love about tumblr; it won’t collect your data, it won’t pander specifically to you (leading to an infamous reputation for downright yet hilariously horrible ads), and it sure as hell won’t spread your posts outside of your circle of followers (at least not until recently, though I have fully embraced the new tumblr tabs; they provide enrichment and new genetic material for my pool of mutuals). For the vast majority of us (roughly 98% of us), liking a post does absolutely nothing. Sure, it lets the author or artist know that you enjoyed their work, but it doesn’t spread the word, and tumblr’s entire function revolves around spreading the word. Liking is useless in that regard.

But for people like Neil Gaiman, who have a sort of power here (he’s our resident celebrity, a fact that never fails to make me smile because it means he’s the same sort of weird as us) (some of us, at least), who have a recognizable name and a massive fanbase and holds the adoration of countless, liking posts (and making those liked posts visible for anyone to see)… well, suddenly it starts to mean a little bit more. He doesn’t like a whole lot, sometimes just a few posts a week, sometimes even less, but scrolling through what he does like is a heartwarming experience (one that I fully encourage people to undertake themselves, paying particular attention to the number of notes that certain posts have) (no seriously, how does he find these posts sometimes?? they have single-digit note counts and he’s among the first to like completely untagged posts, it’s baffling) because they’re things that boil down to (what I can only assume to be) the essence of Neil Gaiman. They’re funny comics about reading. They’re gut-wrenching news articles about current global politics. They’re stories from fans about meeting him, or wanting to meet him, or not being able to meet him. They’re pictures of barbecues and famous actors and movie posters. They’re trans-positive and queer-supportive and riot-encouraging (because the first pride parade was a riot and queer means fuck you). They’re artworks done by fans featuring his characters and meta posts about his works and raving reviews about his shows. They’re wholesome and alarming and lighthearted and important. And for someone like Neil Gaiman, who uses his blog almost solely as a way to connect with his fans, as a way for his fans to be able to see him for who he is, making his liked posts public is… shockingly refreshing.

As a trans person, I have had many idols in my life, especially authors (*cough, cough, you know who I’m talking about*) who have written fantastic works but have let me down with who they are as people and their beliefs. Too many times have I dug deep into an author only to find that deep down, they’re just shitty people. Imagine my surprise when, as I dove down the rabbit hole of Neil Gaiman, unearthing everything he willingly offered to the public to find about him, all I found was support. All I found was righteous anger and encouragement and an all-encompassing compassion. All I found was Neil’s steadfast belief in me, in everything I am, in everyone like me who came before me and who will come after me, in my brothers and sisters and siblings, in my community. And above all else, I found love. For myself, for my community, and for the author who isn’t afraid to show up, to be loud, to put his money where his mouth is, to come to the defense of a community that (to my knowledge) he is not a part of, and to stand firm in his support even when he’s under fire for it.

So yes, his likes are public, because for him, it’s not about an algorithm. It’s not about spreading word or creating a ruckus or drawing attention. When Neil Gaiman likes posts, he is simply saying “I’m here. I hear you. I see you. I support you.” And he isn’t afraid to show the entire world that he does so. And I, for one, respect him as an author, as a personal inspiration, and as a human being all the more for it

#idk if this makes sense #it’s 4:30 in the morning #I’m tired and rambling and emotional about my favorite author #keep going you funky little tumblr celebrity #Neil Gaiman #he’ll never see this and that’s okay #it’s more for me anyway #I’m serious about acrolling through his liked posts though #it’s entertaining as hell lmao #I think I referred to him as hilariously odd in my last post #and I refuse to take it back #it’s such a good descriptor of him #he’s brilliant and insightful and inspiring yes #but he’s also just… a funky little internet dude #I love him #in the most respectful way possible #I wish he was my dad #I’m also SO curious about who he follows #there are a few blogs that I follow that he likes their posts fairly frequently #it just makes me wonder #I know I post too many shipping shitposts for him to ever follow me #but I can one day dream about havjng the HONOR of receiving that notification

[frogcoded]

Okay so: high school ex I haven’t heard from in approx 4 years texted me again and is clearly trying to get my attention

#more context: we were long distance and I broke things off because he kept bailing on me whenever he had to come to visit #& in general he was not there a lot and seemed like he did not have a lot of interest in me #like I would ask him if I could call him and he would say yeah sure give me 15 mins and would then ghost me for the rest of the night #until I gave up and texted him good night #and he would say something like oh sorry I lost track of time like DUDE you told me 15 mins and it’s been two hours #and this happened MULTIPLE TIMES #so I’m already confused like dude you were the one who did not want to see me #also he followed me on ig a few days ago and there’s still pictures with my ex in there so I think he thinks I’m dating someone #@ the Italians this is the guy I was talking about on discord feel to give me your thoughts #(do NOT say I should not have dated this guy I already know that) #(sex was not good either if any of you is curious)

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #luke castellan smut #pjo #heroes of olympus #charlie bushnell #i like sexy evil people making out okay. #maybe will make a part 2 to this series because i’m just so fascinated by their weird little dynamic but we’ll see #i kind of hate this but WE MOVE ANYWAYS!!

[drefear]

Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"

TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.

A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.

Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-

Ahem. Legs.

Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.

You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.

But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.

It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.

And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.

Lower.

Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.

And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.

Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.

Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.

You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.

No.

NO.

It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.

“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.

“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.

The nude drawing of him.

You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“

“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.

“What do you mean?”

He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.

Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.

“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”

And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”

Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?

As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.

“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.

You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“

“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.

His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.

“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”

Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.

“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.

Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.

“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.

He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.

“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.

Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.

“What?”

“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.

“For art purposes.”

Part two is out!

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #angst #miguel ohara smut #smut

[crypticminx]

i saw u were taking reqs for jacob elordi x reader so what about like cute, giggly morning sex if that makes sense

i’m so down bad for this man 🙏

Yessss ofcccc! Also making this husband and dad Jacob bc I need him so bad too :((( tysm lovey ~ also I didn’t do sex just him eating u out (sex w Jacob soon heheh)

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡

You woke up to the feeling of budding hands caress your cheek, the softness of his hands were enough to make you doze back into your interrupted sleep. Gentle motions sent waves of comfort down your spine.

Up and down, they graciously glided until you resorted to opening your tired eyes. the sight laid before you left you irresistibly smiling while squinting as the sunlight poured its beam to light up your bedroom. Creating an abundance of bright hues.

Your husband, Jacob, pierced his eyes at you with an enchanting grin that washed over his face; highlighting the esscense of his beauty that reminded you of one of the many reasons he charmed his way into your heart.

Jacob’s hand slowly retracted away from you as you shifted your limp body into a somewhat sitting position, letting your arched back rest on the bed headboard behind you.

“Good morning,” he whispered with radiant eyes.

You let out an amused sigh, your hands rubbing the remainder of sleep that was left inside. “Mmm, what time is it?”

He glanced at the tiny clock on the night side table, “half past seven.”

You groaned in realization that you could get away with thirty more minutes of rest before enduring your daily routine. Shuffling back down to let your head rest on your silk pillow, you admitted, “it’s too early, love.”

He paused and blinked slowly for a slight minute, moving closer to allow his hand to comb through your undone hair.

“Just missed you…” he almost sounded sorry as his tone was full of remorse for not being able to spend intimate moments like this with you all the time.

You knew what he was referring to.

Jacob’s schedule with acting had been extremely busy the past few months. Leaving him to fly out for specific casting calls or meeting with certain producers who admired his talented work. You were proud of him and wanted nothing more for him to continue succeeding in the field of film, but every time he had a last minute flight to catch, your heart ached with a familiar homesick feeling.

One that wouldn’t exit your soul until you got to reunite with your husband. Having the privilege of feeling his warmth and love in physical form was enchanting.

However, you were never alone.

Your little daughter, Lilly, kept you occupied and was the best form of sweet company. The spitting image of her father with her large curious brown eyes and silky chestnut locks, she was always there to remind you of him.

The two of you would lounge around your secluded house, watching movies, making crafts to gift for daddy when he would return home and FaceTiming him whenever he had the rare moment of free time.

And of course, there was Jacob’s beloved angel of a dog, Layla, who was an adorable companion that would cuddle beside you anytime you’d relax on the sofa and played long rounds of fetch with Lily in your large backyard. It was obvious she missed her loving owner just as much as you did.

“We missed you too,” he smiled at your courteous words, leaning to kiss your soft lips, letting his tongue swirl with yours. Loving the taste of your sweet mouth no matter what time of the day.

With no hesitation, his touch starved hands glided down to your tank top, gently tugging the straps down to reveal your chest.

“Jacob!” You exclaimed, followed by a quiet laugh, completely aware your daughter was most likely still sleeping in the room beside yours.

His hands cupped perfectly around your boobs, your nipples growing hard at the smooth contact that was the palms of his hands.

“Come on, baby,” his thick brows raised with his slick charm, “you think all those pictures you sent me while I was away is better than having the real thing right in front of me?

You blushed with hot, red cheeks as he brought up all the little things you’d do for him while the distance between the two of you left him aching for you.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Oh hush you,” you playfully rolled your eyes, feeling him squeeze a tad bit tighter at your breasts.

“Mmm,” he hummed moving down to latch his mouth on one of your exposed boobs. Your nails clutching deep into his hair as his head laid on your chest. You dug deeper as his tongue circled in brisk motions. Leaving Jacob to pause for a swift moment.

“Ow,” he exaggerated in a comical tone. You ruffled his shaggy hair down to his forehead as he licked his lips. “I wasn’t done.”

“My bad,” you winked, letting a tiny yawn escape you.

“Well,” he purred, moving his body down to your stomach as he moved the sheets to go gently over his head. “I’ll just continue down here.”

“Babe,” you pleaded with pouty eyes. “I don’t wanna make too much noise.”

Jacob was just too irresistible.

He perpetually longed for your body laid in front of him. He constantly missed you at all times you were forcefully apart. Having the long awaited freedom of getting to spend a relaxing morning with you was more than a luxury to him.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, stroking your thigh with his nimble fingertips, “our little love sleeps like an angel. She won’t hear us.”

You pretended to stall, placing a finger on your soft lips for effect. You knew the answer though and you didn’t have to think twice. You needed this—you craved this.

Giving him the look was the green light for the hungry man. He inched himself further down until he was hidden beneath the sheets and placed perfectly in between your bent thighs. The amount of small stubble he had neglected to shave gently tickled you and having no urge to fight off the feeling it provided, you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“When’s the last time you shaved?” You snickered with amusement, hearing him groan as you lifted the sheets only to not receive a response from him, but his face diving deep into your exposed parts.

He was smooth with his actions, he got straight to business and you could barely remember him taking off your panties.

A build up of heat and tingly vibrations inside of you began to stir your sex drive into motion. Having Jacob’s tongue wither it’s way into your partially wet lips was a luxurious feeling, he knew how to let your tension go by the ways of his mouth.

Your clit was caressed and it felt loving. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t sloppy. It was perfect because he did it with love.

“Taste so good, baby,” you heard a vacant mumble in between his swirls, he always made sure to praise you. After all, you were his main source of inspiration and the very thing that kept him striving for more.

You were his wife; the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his happy life with. You were the woman who gave him the best gift of all; his daughter. With everything he ever did to your body that pleasured you to no end, he always wanted to reassure you that you were more than a heavenly angel to him.

“Keep going, honey,” you tried your best to surpass a moan from exiting you, but failed miserably. Jacob’s mouth playfully tugged around the surface of your wet inner parts, something he knew you adored and always left you with insane build up.

Warm waves flowed down to your inner core, passion from Jacob’s mouth worked its magic into always providing you with a quick release.

You breathed heavily as his tongue surfaced deep into you, feeling so stimulated it reminded you of the old days when the two of you had a free house and could be as obnoxious as you pleased.

He made you feel warm. The pressure of his suctioning lips gave you sanctuary bliss.

You craved nothing more than the simple action of cuming on his face. Watching him suck all of your juices as you’d pour out your ecstasy was more rewarding than anything else in the heat of the moment.

As you could feel yourself letting go into a haze of vibrations there was a small, frail knock at the door.

“Shit,” you heard rumble from under the sheets as you slid up with the most energy you could gather while Jacob eagerly covered you back up with your undergarments.

You slid your tank top back to cover your chest, seeing Jacob mentally cursing at the interrupted moment, but smiling because he knew who was at the door waiting to be allowed entry.

Regaining composure and trying to wipe any of the remaining stamina left in the two of you, Jacob called out, “come in.”

Your daughter slowly opened the door, looking energetic as ever as she appeared to be ready to start the day. Her movement turned quick as her face lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing her Father. She was thrilled that he was home and raced to his opened arms as she jumped on the bed.

“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re back,” she cried out with glee as Jacob smothered her with his large arms. She still seemed so tiny in comparison to him.

“Of course, angel,” he planted a kiss on her head, smooching loudly as she nuzzled deep into his bearing chest.

She looked up at him with doe eyes, revealing how much she missed her dad, “Layla and I missed you so so much.” It made him chuckle at how much she grew to adore that dog. She was nurturing just like her beautiful mother.

Your heart melted at the scene and Jacob grinned at you with a beaming smile before he turned to Lilly again. “Oh sweetheart, I can promise you daddy missed you more.”

“And what about me?” You poked the young girl, who in response, leaped onto your lap as you kissed her cheek.

“Good morning, my love,” you showered her with affection as she flung her arms around your neck. Slowly cradling her in a soothing rhythm before she left your embrace to sit in front of you and Jacob.

“Sweetie,” Jacob gestured her attention back to him as he began to slowly dress himself, throwing on a loose throwover you placed on the laundry basket next to his side of the bed. “Why don’t you go downstairs and feed Layla and then mummy and I will be right with you, okay?”

She nodded, the loose braids she slept in swayed with her motion. “Yes daddy,” she crawled off the bed as she happily ran out of your room and into the long corridors outside.

Jacob chuckled and shook his head, finding himself so relieved to be back home with his girls. He faced you as you slowly stretched your way out of bed and shuffled yourself to where he was slowly fixing himself up. You wrapped your arms around his waist as your head laid on his back. He shifted your arms around to where you could view his ecstatic face.

“Don’t worry,” he looked down at your twinkling eyes that never stopped sparkling, “I’m not finished with you yet, angel.”

You bit your lip, “I’m looking forward to it.”

What a beautiful morning it was turning out to be at the Elordi household.

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x y/n #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi fanfiction #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x reader #saltburn 2023 #jacob elordi smut #nate jacobs x reader

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.2k words

fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part

angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) — you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, you’re left…well…shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state you’ve never seen him in before.

You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.

You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasn’t top notch you’re sure he’ll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.

You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.

He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. “Y/n. How are you?”

You smile. “Good…yeah, no I’m good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?”

“Oh.” He spins. “I swear I saw him over there.” He points in a random direction. “…now he’s gone. Maybe with Gwen.” He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.

“Well, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.”

“Translation? To what language?” Pav asks.

“From Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.”

“Ah…wait, but doesn’t Miguel fully speak it?” Pav pauses. “Yeah, he’d know a lot more than Miles.”

You nod. “He just won’t tell me.” You mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” Pav asks, brows furrowed.

You look back up. “Miguel’s just kind of busy right now.” You had no idea if he was or not. “And so I thought Miles might be free.”

“I see.” Pav nods. “Come on, I’ll help you find him.” Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.

“Miles!” Pav called out to nowhere in particular. “Miles!?”

“Is yelling his name really gonna help?” Your brows furrow.

“I like to think yelling will conjure up the whole ‘spider-sense’ thing.” Pav says, still gazing around. “Wait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.”

You chuckle, looking around. And that’s when you spot Miles and Gwen. “Miles!” You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.

Miles turns, and copies your smile. “Y/n, hey.”

“Okay look, I’m sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?” You ask, hopeful.

Miles tilts his head slightly. “Yeah, sure. As long as it isn’t French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I don’t know.”

Your smile widens. “No, no. None of those. It’s just Spanish.”

“Oh.” Miles stands straighter. “I’ll warn you I don’t know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.”

“Thank you.” You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.

“Okay, so it’s two sentences.” You begin. Miles nods. “The first one is…’Me encantaría usar…tu cama para otras…cosas’.” You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.

When you look back to Miles, he’s staring at you blinking. You stare back. “What?” You ask.

“Um.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m probably hearing it wrong.” He mutters to himself before he’s looking back to an expectant you.

“What was the second one?” He asks, a little more curious this time.

“Uh…’¿No crees que…me vería bonita atrapada entre…tus sábanas?’”

Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. “What does it mean?”

He coughs. “Who said that to you?”

“Oh, no I said it to someone.” You answer. “Well, they asked me to say it…”

“You said it someone…” he drifts off, slightly gulping.

“What? Is it…bad?” Your brows are further furrowed. “Come on, Miles, please. I’ve been dying to know what it means all of last night.”

“Well, the first one…it means ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.” He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you don’t catch it right.

“What?”

“And the second one means ‘don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets?’.” Miles’ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.

This time you’re staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. “What?” You repeat stupidly. That can’t be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bed…

Now you weren’t dumb you were just…in shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.

Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadn’t realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.

Then there was the touches on your chin…

At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something he’d do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasn’t grabbing Peter’s face like that, he wasn’t leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.

Now you’ve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. “Um.” You nod. You don’t know why you’re nodding. You just need to do something that isn’t stare off into space.

“Who, um, asked you to say that?” Gwen asks.

You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.

“Oh, uh, nobody.” You didn’t really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasn’t even something. It wasn’t…right?

But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did Miguel…? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. Though…part of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.

You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. It’s as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is well…Miguel.

;;

“What was that about?” Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.

Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. “Yeah…nah, that’s right.” He mutters. “My translations right.”

“Who asked her—“

“Asked who what?” Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.

“Y/n.” Gwen says. “She asked Miles to translate something for her.”

“See, I knew this guy would be helpful.” Hobie slightly shakes Miles’ shoulders.

“I think someone has a crush on y/n.” Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.

“Who?” Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.

Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadn’t seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didn’t pay that much attention to people’s gazes, and Miles was well…new. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldn’t believe how oblivious they were.

Hobie began to figure out Miguel’s little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadn’t needed Hobie.

And when Miguel’s jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.

“Come on, you lot.” Hobie says staring at them. “Tell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?”

Gwen looks down, thinking. “Miguel.”

Hobie nods. “Uh huh.” He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. “Oh bloody hell, you lot are thick.”

“Oh…” Pav mutters. “Oh!” He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.

“Thank anarchy.” He mutters, thankful one person caught on.

“Miguel likes y/n?!” Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.

“It’d seem so.” Hobie smirks.

;;

Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to say—and having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shock—you've arrived back to sweaty palms.

You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fraction—your nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.

Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.

Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of ‘a mess’.

"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.

You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"

"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.

"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.

Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to say…go."

Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.

Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.

"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotions—stress, anxiety,...fear?

Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.

You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.

"Are you...okay?"

Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.

You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."

Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.

"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.

And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.

"Miguel, where did you go?"

"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.

"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"

"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.

But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."

"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."

"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.

"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.

"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.

"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.

"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."

You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softened—a broken one.

You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"

You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.

But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?

Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.

Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should do what he’s thinking.

But then you’re slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he can’t have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.

Your breathing hitches as Miguel’s breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.

No. He had told himself he wouldn’t think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say ‘shut the hell up’.

You could feel Miguel’s entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.

For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that ‘this was what has to be done’ and that ‘no, you can’t get distracted’.

Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.

You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didn’t let your waist go. You stopped those voices and he’d be damned if he let you step away from his body now.

Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguel’s fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.

“I’m…” You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. “Sorry…I probably shouldn’t have hugged you.” You could practically taste his breath.

“Yeah…you probably shouldn’t have.” His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.

They’re dry—of course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks.

“I’m sorry that I just…sorta came in.” You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didn’t seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the one’s in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.

Well maybe the second smartest choice… He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from ‘how much more could he take’ to ‘how much more…more…more’. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.

In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.

“A-and I probably shouldn’t have assumed all that stuff…” you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. It’s safe to say your were flustered.

“I think you did alright.” He partially whispered.

“Well…you’re not throwing a chair..so..” Stupid, stupid, stupid—you think to yourself. “I mean…”

And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him look…happy?

“Careful.” You say. “You look like you’re expressing a ‘sparkly emotion’.”

“Oh no.” His grin doesn’t fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. “We wouldn’t want that…would we?”

You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. “…cute.”

You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.

But what he didn’t know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word ‘cute’ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.

I’m sorry this one’s kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before they…well…y’know.

at this point I’ve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next part…mhm…FINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS

plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are — i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff

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taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6 taglist #7

#the miguel effect #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel fucking o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #atsv #spider man #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara angst

[subbmissivesuccubus]

No secrets around here ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for 1K followers <3 <3 <3 I am undeserving but very appreciative. I am working on Bully Part 3 but please have this one shot as a token of my love.

It's a story suggested by my patron! If you'd like to suggest prompts for me to write, please consider checking out my patreon (link in bio) <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary : Satoru and Suguru find out that their sweet, seemingly innocent girlfriend writes smutty fanfiction. They decide to make her fantasies come true while also making sure to teach her that keeping secrets from them have consequences <3

Contains : Fem reader. Established relationship. Degradation. Threesome M/M/F. Gojo and Geto being mean but with love. A bit meta.

“Dude- Suguru- SUGURU!”

“Stop yelling, Satoru.” The raven-haired man whined, rubbing a hand over his face as he was barely awake, “You better be dying if you’re calling me at 3 in the morning.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll wanna hear what I say.”

“Get to the point.”

“Ok, so you know how every time we visit our cutie, she’s super protective of her phone?”

“…Yeah.”

“And how she immediately shuts her laptop close if we walk in?”

“…Yeah.”

“I found out why. I just sent you a link.”

Satoru hung up and Suguru groaned, looking his phone annoyance before the ding of a message received rang out. He raised an eyebrow as he read the message, the link opening upto a website called…tumblr? He was aware of the site but it never interested him enough to truly put any effort into finding out more about it. He also knew of the concept of fanfiction (thanks to a certain someone) and knew that Tumblr had a lot of creators posting their fanmade content.

But he had no idea it was…something like this.

Reader is being a brat and gets put in her place – Fem Reader X Demon Slayer men.

Where the men of One-Piece love to cum <3

Dick headcannons, a.k.a. who among the Honkai men are packing~

Suguru scoffed as he scrolled down the posts, surprised at how lewd this author was. Their writing was filthy and degenerate yet written fairly well. If he wasn’t so sleepy, Suguru was sure he could jerk off to a story or two. The comments under the posts were just as feral, people going crazy over the fanfictions, often proclaiming their desire to be with these…fictional men? He didn’t quite understand it but who was he to judge.

He paused as he read the title of a post, letting out a hum as the title hit a bit close to home.

Reader gets pounded roughly by her two boyfriends.

It was a post with thousands of notes which got Suguru curious. He clicked on the tag labelled #two boyfriends and was surprised to see several stories written by the author of the reader having two lovers and their sexual escapades together:

Reader gets both her holes stuffed with cock. Or the two boyfriends compete to see who can get her to squirt first. Reader is spanked silly and can’t sit properly for days. As punishment, the two boyfriends overstimulate the reader for hours, making her cum over and over again even as she begged them to stop.

The list went on and on and on, making the blood rush to Suguru’s cheeks at how raw and filthy and…desperate these fanfictions were.

His phone dinged, a message from Satoru which reminded the black-haired man of how he wound up here to begin with. So there are some smutty fiction online, but what does it have to do with you? He could only come up with one conclusion but…that couldn’t be it. Right?

Satoru <3 : Did you see all the two boyfriends fics?

Me : Yeah. You’re not saying that…she wrote all of this, are you?

Suguru waited with bated breath as the three dots danced on his screen, Satoru typing out the answer. You were someone who refused to even curse in daily conversation! There was no way… He choked as he got a response, Satoru simply saying:

What do you say we show our baby how much better her real boyfriends are?

~~~~~

“Boys!” you whined as Suguru and Satoru stuck close to you, one on either side, “I’m trying to cook here!” “We’re not stopping you!” Satoru said with a pout as he placed his cheek on top of your hair, “We just wanna be close to our baby. Is that so bad?” “Exactly.” Suguru purred as a hand came up to wrap around your waist, pressing himself close to you, “Is loving you such a crime?”

You rolled your eyes at their theatrics. One thing worse than having one dramatic boyfriend would be having two. Not that you were complaining, of course. How on Earth could you be upset over having the two most powerful sorcerers be your lovers? It sometimes felt like a dream- that these two had fallen in love with you and were over by your place for a domestic night of homecooked food and movies. They were more clingy than usual, a hand or lips always on your body at all times. You caught them exchanging glances with each other once in awhile but you simply ignored it. It wasn’t the first time your men had this telepathic communication going on between them. As long as they weren’t planning on pranking you, you decided to simply focus on the meal you were cooking.

“So, babe,” Satoru purred as he placed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You’re on Tumblr a lot, right?”

You scoffed, “You know I am. Why’d you ask? You finally wanna join?”

“I sure do!” he responded, “And if you had told me about all the porn that was on that website, I would have joined sooner.”

“Porn?” you repeated, confused, “What are you talking about? It doesn’t allow-”

“All of that smutty fanfiction- I was up all night reading them!”

You froze, hoping that the two of them didn’t notice. “Oh, uh, yeah there’s a lot of that.”

“And, you know, we found this…writer.” Suguru said, his voice dripping like honey as his hand ran up and down your waist, “Who writes the most…filthy things. Degradation, spankings, brat taming, not to mention threesomes between two men and a woman. Kind of similar to us, right?”

You gulped, trying to focus on your food even though your mind was running a mile. Did they know? How did they find out? You were so careful of your things! You always made sure to have an eye on your phone and laptop so how did they…

“Well, only the threesome parts.” Satoru said, “We’re not nearly as kinky as the people in those stories. We could be, of course, but we wouldn’t want to scare our baby with how…intense we can be, right?”

“Of course.” Suguru purred, leaning forward to kiss your temple, his lips soft against your skin, “Our sweet princess is so innocent and vanilla. How on Earth can we treat her like the girls in those smutty, dirty stories? We have to make love to her like the Queen she is. There’s no way our baby would like to be punished or have her pussy filled until she’s bred.”

“Exactly.” Satoru said, noting the way your breathing was quickening, smiling as he saw your ears turn red, “Unless…there’s something she’s not telling us.” You gasped as his hand trailed down your back, making you shiver before it landed on your ass. You mewled as he grabbed a cheek harshly, his fingers digging into your plush skin, both of them so close to you that you could feel their hot breath against your burning face.

“So, sweetheart.” Suguru said, a twinkle in his eye as he turned off the heat of the stove, gently taking your utensils out of your hands, “Anything you’d like to share?”

You gulped, Satoru squeezing you greedily and making it difficult for you to form sentences, “H-How did you find out?”

“Well, I might have peeked at your phone when you left it unlocked yesterday.” Satoru confessed, “I wasn’t planning on looking but when I saw the notification of someone begging you to write more of your threesome content, well, curiosity got the better of me.”

“Our baby has such naughty fantasies,” Suguru said, not giving you a chance to respond “But she kept it all to herself like a bad little girl. Why didn’t you tell us?” he leaned down to nibble at your ear, loving the cute yelp you let out, “Did you think we’d judge you?”

“I- I don’t know…” you mumbled, face so red it felt like steam was coming out your ears, “It’s…embarrassing- ah!” Suguru moved downwards and kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the sensitive patch of your skin, making you cry out loud. Satoru pouted before he let go of your ass, only to swing his hand down and give your butt a sharp slap, making you yell loudly.

“We could have been fucking you like the dirty slut you are, but instead, we held ourselves back because we didn’t want to scare you off.” Satoru growled, his hand making its way to your hair, grabbing a handful before he pulled harshly. You gasped as your head was tossed back, your boyfriends face looking down on you as his grip on your hair continued to be tight and unforgiving.

“Every time we fuck you- we’ve wanted to go wild.” Suguru confessed, his large hand slipping into your shirt, making you shiver as he touched your bare skin, “So next time, just be honest and save us the trouble, hmm?”

“You’re going to make it up to us.” Satoru said, leaning down to kiss your lips, a quick peck before he pulled away, a dark look in his eyes, “Get ready. We’re making those fantasies come true.”

~~~~~

Your hands trembled, instinctively tugging at the handcuffs that held you tight against the headboard. The cool metal dug into your skin, showing no signs of letting up. Hands handcuffed above your bed, naked as the day you were born, you were at the mercy of your two men and they made sure of that.

Suguru giggled at your cute little yelp as he increased the speed of the vibrator, his grip of the wand tightening before he pressed it down harder on your clit. You screamed around Satoru’s cock, the man’s dick shoved down your throat, making you gag. He was practically straddling your head, knees on either side of your shoulders while Suguru sat between your spread legs, their eyes greedily taking in your nakedness.

“Yeah? You like that?” Satoru asked, looking down at you with a teasing grin on his face, sweat dripping down his brow. He was naked, veins throbbing in his arms as he gripped onto the headboard tightly, rolling his hips into your face, groaning at the sensation of you trying your best to take his fat dick. “You like that vibrator on your slutty little pussy, don’t you? Hmm? Like having my cock down your throat?” he asked, pausing his thrusting for a second to fully press his cock deep inside you, laughing as he felt you gag loudly around him.

“Oh, she loves it~” Suguru purred, dick aching in his boxers (wearing nothing but his underwear) as he ground the wand vibrator against you, mercilessly attacking your clit, “Her cunt is dripping~”

“Poor baby~ You must be so pent up since we’ve been making love to you like you were a princess. Guess we have to fuck you like a whore, hmm?” Satoru asked, biting his lower lip as he started thrusting into your mouth again. His muscles tensed, tossing his head back to moan as your sweet little tongue lapped at the underside of his cock, his heavy balls pressing against your chin every time he thrust.

“Stay. Still.” Suguru said with a click of his tongue as one arm gripped onto your knee tightly, the other still torturing you with the vibrator, “Keep moving your legs like that and I’ll punish you.”

You whined, your sounds taken by Satoru’s member, your body getting overstimulated. With a fat cock down your throat and Suguru playing with your pussy, you couldn’t help but start trembling, trying to push your legs together to give yourself a break from the onslaught on your cunt- but Suguru was having none of that.

He ignored your yelp as he pulled the vibrator away, taking away your pleasure so suddenly. But you barely had time to process that as he raised his hand and brought it down on your pussy, giving it a harsh, tight slap. You screamed from the pain, the vibrations of your mouth making Satoru moan as Suguru started spanking your pussy again and again. Slap after slap rained down on your cunt, the raven-haired man holding one leg tightly by the ankle while pushing away the other with his knee, truly keeping you spread as he spanked your pussy.

Your whole body writhed from the pain, the stinging sensation of Suguru marking your puffy pussy lips red. Your hands struggled against the handcuffs even more, your torso tossing and turning, Satoru giving you some mercy as he gently pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“Sorry! Fuck- I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” you pleaded through your gasps and coughs, and crying as Suguru slapped your cunt so hard it made you dizzy for a second, “Please- no more!”.

“No more what?”

“No more spankings- P-Please! Please don’t s-spank my p-pussy!” you begged, ears turning red from the embarrassment. You heard Satoru giggle above you, the man clearly more sadistic than you ever imagined as he tugged at his member, enjoying the scene of his best friend breaking you down perfectly. Even him touching himself right in front of you was torturous, your eyes homing in on the precum dripping out of his red tip, his cock covered in your saliva.

“I thought you liked it, baby.” Suguru said, taking some mercy on you as he gently rubbed your cunt, easing some of the burn, “Your characters get their pussy’s spanked so often. Don’t you feel bad for them if it hurts so much?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You sobbed, “It hurts- fuck- but it hurts so good!”

“Fuuuck Baby!” Satoru groaned, gripping the base of his cock tightly, his face red and excited, “Almost came from that~ I love seeing you look so pathetic for us.”

You whimpered, turning your face to feel Satoru’s warmth as he gently wiped a tear away from your eye. Suguru chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss to your cunt, your skin hot against his lips. Your back arched as he ran his tongue up your pussy, the man groaning as he tasted your slick, drinking you down like a drug.

“Oh~ I want a taste of that pussy too~” Satoru purred before he changed his position. Your eyes widened as he turned around, adjusting himself so his cock was once again over your face only now, he was facing your pussy in a classic 69. “Open up, princess.” He said, smirking as he pushed his cock into your mouth just as you opened your lips, “Suck my cock while we- oh yeah- play with this pussy~”

Satoru grabbed the back of your thighs, holding onto you tightly as he dipped his head between your legs, Suguru moving out of the way so his friend could mouth at your pussy. You squealed around his cock, the man already starting to thrust as he wrapped his lips around your clit before he sucked harshly. “Mmmph- fuck yes~” he moaned, lightly picking up the pace as he once again started fucking your throat, “This pussy is so fucking tasty~”

He opened his mouth wide and started flicking his tongue on your clit, letting out a lewd sound as he tortured your sensitive bud with his tongue. Not one to sit idly by, Suguru allowed his friend to tongue your cunt while he gently slid a finger inside you.

“Look at that. My finger went in so easily, baby.” Suguru said as he gently thrust the finger in and out of you, “This isn’t enough for you, is it?”

You whined around Satoru’s cock, unable to respond. But they understood. Suguru slid a second finger inside you, the slick sound of your cunt parting for him echoing through the air lewdly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers inside you just right, pussy gushing from the sensation. Satoru was still licking at your clit, giving your bud the occasional nibble to keep you on edge.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Suguru asked as he watched Satoru lick you up, his own fingers drenched, your juices dripping down, “Cock in your mouth as we play with your pussy like you’re our little toy~ Our sweet little fuck toy we can use?”

Your toes curled and your muscles tensed, opening your throat up as much as possible as Satoru mercilessly face fucked you, his balls slapping against you as he chased his pleasure. The metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your fingers clenching around nothing as you were driven closer and closer to your orgasm.

You were so close you could taste it, your mind descending into nothing but pleasure, the two men perfectly breaking you down into the slut they know you are. You fantasised about them as you wrote your fanfiction and for it to actually be coming true- you didn’t know how to handle it.

You were so close- so close! Your body tightened and your pussy clenched around Suguru’s fingers, the familiar sensation of an orgasm making itself known. You already knew this would be one of the strongest climaxes you’d experience and it almost scared you. But you were ready. You wanted this. You needed this. You needed them!

Your moans picked up the pace, getting louder and louder around Satoru’s cock, still obediently sucking him off as your body trembled. You were gonna cum! Cumming- cumming-

Only for them to stop.

You let out a scream as Satoru pulled his cock out of your mouth, both of them able to hear your shouts. You arched off the bed, your body trembling from the sudden absence of pleasure, your legs kicking at the mattress like a toddler as you writhed on the bed.

“Why? Why- I was so close- so close!” you sobbed, tugging at the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to touch yourself, only for it to be futile.

“Aww, poor princess.” Satoru cooed, kneeling over you still, his cock dripping your saliva back onto his face lewdly, “did you really think it would be that easy?”

“We’re going to edge you all night.” Suguru said, finally undoing his boxers before pushing it off, getting completely naked, “It’s your punishment for keeping your sluttiness a secret from us.”

You could barely muster up a protest as you were distracted by Suguru’s cock. His cock was just as beautiful as Satoru’s- long, thick and oh so delicious. He took your breath away everytime he got inside you, his skills rendering you a whining mess.

“If you try and cum without us knowing,” Suguru said, knowing your body like the back of your hand and well aware that you were close to your orgasm, “You’re going to be in a world of pain. Now come on. Beg for it.” He started teasingly slapping your pussy with his member, each strike making you twitch, “You know how to beg, right? Your characters beg so sweetly in your stories- I’m sure you can do it too~”

You gulped, mouth drooling and pussy trembling, their hard cocks right in front of you but refusing to get inside you. “P-Please.” You pleaded, feeling a rush of shame overcome you by uttering the word. “Do better than that.” Suguru said, his hand now on his member and lightly stroking it, showing you what you were missing out on. “I- Fuck- I need you! Both of you!” you said desperately. “Keep going~” Satoru purred, his tip just a hairs breath away from your lips, also close to orgasm, “what do you need?” “I need- fuck- I need your c-cocks!” you begged, tears in your eyes as you shamelessly conveyed your desires, “I need you inside me- I need you to fuck me!” “Good girl.” Suguru said, groaning as he finally- finally- started to push inside you, “And remember. No cumming.”

You tossed your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Suguru started spreading you apart, inch after inch burying into your sopping cunt. It was a delicious sensation, his cock stretching you out wonderfully, his thick cock giving you a nice burn. Suguru hissed as his dick was enveloped in your tight wetness, the texture of your pussy walls hugging it perfectly. His balls clenched and he knew he wouldn’t last long- the feeling of finally being able to treat you like the kinky slut you were driving him to the edge. They don’t call him a pleasure dom for nothing.

Without even saying anything, Satoru took advantage of your open mouth to jam his dick back inside your mouth, laughing at the surprised yelp and loud gag you let out. “I’m close baby~” he moaned as he was surrounded by your addicting heat again, “Make sure you drink it all when I cum down this slutty mouth pussy~”

They both started to fuck you mercilessly at once. And all you could do was lie there and take it. Suguru made you wrap your legs against his waist, leaning into you as he started pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you each time he thrust into you. Your pussy was so wet and hot- the sensation like a drug as he pounded you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck- I love this fucking pussy!” he groaned, tossing his head back as he mercilessly pounded you, chasing his pleasure, “So perfect for us- so greedy and desperate- want to fucking ruin you!”

“Mmm~ I can’t wait to fuck this slutty cunt~” Satoru said between moans, fucking down on your mouth as a hand came up to spread apart your pussy lips, giving him a perfect view of Suguru fucking your hole. “Pass me the vibrator, will you?”

You yelped, knowing exactly what he had planned as Satoru got a hold of the vibrator, switched it on before he placed it against your clit. You screamed around his cock, body thrashing at the overstimulation. The toy rubbed against your clit, the speed on the highest setting, making your vision blurry as he assaulted your sensitive bud.

“Fuck- oh yeah- that’s fucking great!” Suguru moaned, the vibration of the toy giving him added pleasure as well, “she tightened around me so much- fuck- slutty little pussy!”

You were in heaven and hell. The two men were using you in such a filthy fashion, making your body tremble from the intense pleasure. Suguru was fucking you so perfectly, his cock hitting your g-spot every time he thrust into you, your pleasure heightened by Satoru playing with your clit. He’d use the toy or sometimes even lean down to lick at your clit again, his hair brushing against Suguru’s abdomen every time he thrust forward. They were both so desperate and horny for you and it was amazing.

But, every time you were close, they’d stop.

You didn’t even need to say it- your moans and your body language was enough for them to know when you were about to cum and every time, without fail, they’d ruin your orgasm. Suguru would pull out and Satoru would stop playing with your clit, opting to slap your pussy and call it a ‘bad cunt’ as he took your climax away from you. Suguru once pinched your clit so harshly you swore you blacked out. Once they thought you weren’t going to cum, they’d get back into it.

“Oh baby!” Satoru moaned, finally reaching his climax. He forgoed the toy and instead focused on fucking your face, wanting to cum, “I’m close! Yes! Yes! Oh you naughty little minx! We’re going to have so much fucking fun with you!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you got pounded from both ends- your jaw beyond sore. With a few more thrusts, Satoru finally came. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly, his cock lodged as deep as it could go inside you. He started to cum down your throat, giving you no choice but to drink it all up. You could feel his balls clench against you as he came, his hot seed pouring down your throat, warming you up from the inside.

“Ohhh yesss!” Satoru moaned, his body shuddering as he gently thrust his hips, milking his balls of every drop, “That’s it- oh yes~ That’s a good slut~”

You gagged around him, struggling to breathe and to drink down his cum, happy to have given him pleasure but distracted by Suguru still pounding into you. You were waiting for Satoru to get off of you and give your jaw some peace but…

He once again got his face close to your pussy, resting his elbows on the mattress and his chin on his hands as he stared like a pervert as Suguru fucking your cunt.

“Enjoying the show?” Suguru asked with a laugh, his body running a bit hotter at Satoru staring.

“Mmhmm,” Satoru said with a smile before he addressed you, “Keep cockwarming me, baby. Get me hard again so I can fuck this pussy next~”

Oh. Oh God.

“Fuck- I’m close!” Suguru groaned through gritted teeth, “And she’s close too- I can feel it!”

“Yeah?” Satoru asked, rolling his hips in a circle as he leisurely enjoyed your mouth like it was a fleshlight, “Should we let her cum? She’s been such a good girl for us.”

You whined around him, feeling like this entire night was you whining, trying your best to beg around Satoru’s cock in your mouth. You could feel him grow harder inside you, the sadist loving the fact that he made you so pathetic.

“Nah.” Suguru said, sweating as he pounded you mercilessly, “Not yet.”

“You hear that, baby?” Satoru asked, “You better not cum~”

You sobbed, tears pouring down your cheeks as they decided to continue torturing you.

“You gonna cum inside her?” Satoru asked his friend, knowing him well enough to know he was about to cum. “Fuck- I want to so fucking badly but- I don’t think she deserves it yet!”  “Awww, the poor thing. She has such a huge breeding kink too!” “I know. Fuck- I’d love to dump inside this cunt and breed her but- fuck- I still think she needs to learn her lesson! Naughty little sluts who keep things from their boyfriends gets fucking punished! Oh fuck- yes- cumming- I’m cumming!”

With a shout, once again denying you your orgasm, Suguru quickly pulled out of you with the intention of finishing on you. “Fuck- Satoru!” Suguru moaned as the white haired man suddenly grabbed his member and started jerking him off. Satoru laughed at Suguru’s moans, his hand almost a blur as he jacked off his best friend, aiming the tip right at your pussy. In a matter of seconds, Suguru let out a loud moan as he came, tossing his head back as the pleasure hit him like a truck. He trembled as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock, his balls clenching with each pump as he came all over your pussy. He stained your cunt white, making you whine as all of that cum wasn’t pumped inside you.

“Oh~ Look at all that cum on this pretty pussy~” Satoru moaned, letting go of Suguru to instead pet at your pussy, his fingers rubbing the cum into your skin before he collected a bit of it on his fingers to shove inside you. You gasped, body still on edge, your mind a mess of pleasure and humiliation as Satoru stuffed his friends cum into your pussy. He took some mercy on you and pulled his cock out of your mouth, enjoying your gasps and moans as you took in deep breaths, choking on your own spit as he got off of you.

“Please!” you begged, crying and you voice hoarse, “Please- Please let me cum! I need it! I’ll do anything!”

“Shhhh, relax, princess.” Suguru cooed as he and Satoru switched places, the white haired man settling between your legs with his cock hard once more, eager to fuck your cunt. You whimpered and cried as Suguru lied down next to you, his dick still hard and ready for more as he leaned down to kiss you, a sweet moment among all the depravity.

His hand gripped a breast, squeezing your boob as he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth and making your body tingle from the sensation. He finally parted just as Satoru slipped his dick inside you, smiling as he watched your eyes water and your jaw drop from the sensation.

“Don’t start crying already, baby.” Suguru said, watching as your body started to bounce up and down from Satoru’s thrusts, Satoru immediately fucking you in a fast pace, “We’ve only just begun~”

#subby writes #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader x geto #gojo #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto smut

[fungal-rot]

Surrender

okay so i've been seeing those tiktok ads about that Pure-Instinct perfume and I had A Thot- it was originally supposed to go a different route, but i kinda went everywhere with this LOL.

summary: no outbreak; you bought a new perfume, one that's supposed to entice the opposite sex. but just how well does it actually work?

warnings: MDNI- smut (unprotected p-in-v), joel being a bit of a horndog, semi-desperate sex, oral (f receiving), use of 'good girl' and pet names (darlin', baby, pretty girl, honey), a bit of bulge riding, slight dom!joel, established relationship, no age specification for reader- lemme know if i forgot anything! - also please note i’m getting back into writing. i’m a lil rusty and still getting back into the flow of things; apologies for any mistakes.

w.c.: 2.7k

    ⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

All over the internet you've come across different videos advertising some 'pheromone perfume-' a blend of essential oils that are meant to work with your own natural scent, enhancing your body's pheromones- or something of the sort. Seeing the men become infatuated with their girlfriends and wives, clinging to them with lust-blown pupils certainly had your interest piqued.

After an- albeit, quick- internal debate with yourself, you bit the bullet and looked up the seller's site, coming across different smells like 'Crave,' 'Lucky,' 'Fallen-'

And 'Surrender.'

Sounds sexy. With a smirk you click on it, reading the description,

'Surrender has a sophisticated and mature scent which designed for the woman who wants to feel confident, beautiful, and sensual. Own any room you enter in. You won't just be noticed — you'll make heads turn. Sexy, but not vulgar.'

Sounds dominant.

There were different layers of notes, like magnolia, mandarin, vanilla, sandalwood; the list went on. Seemed like a good choice. You were about to add it to your cart, finger hovering over the button, but then you hesitated. Did you really need this? Was it that important to find out if it was worth the hype? To see if Joel would be unable to tear himself away from you, kissing you hungrily while ripping your clothes off an-

Added to your cart!

It was for science.

You even opted to pay extra for express shipping, heart racing with a giddy bite of your lip.

The day it arrived, you were practically bouncing on your feet with glee. Joel was at work, wouldn't be home for another hour or so. That meant you had plenty of time to get things together and play around with it.

Taking a quick shower then pulling a low cut shirt over your head and shimmying a pair of leggings on, you grabbed your little container of liquid-luck, rolling it over your heat points; a little between your breasts, behind your ears, along the crook of your neck, wrists, and fold of your arms. It definitely smelled alluring upon first apply. Now to let it dry and wait.

-

Keys jingled outside the door, the knob twisting a few times before the entrance swung open followed by a rather exhausted looking Joel Miller who stumbled through. The man heaved a heavy sigh as he tossed his keys into the dish and toed of his shoes before padding to the couch where you sat, pushing your cuticles back as you watched a rerun of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer.

"Hi, sugar," you greet, flicking your eyes to him as he flopped down, making you bounce softly. His hair was damp with sweat from being out in the hot Texas sun all day, thick veins protruding from his work-callused hands, trailing up his arm.

"Hm," he grunted in reply and placed his palms over his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, chest expanding with a deep breath only to falter for a split second. Joel took in another breath, this one loud and deliberate. With hands lowering from his face, he turned his head to you, slowly, with knit brows.

"D'ya smell that?" He asked, sniffing again with a curious glance of the room.

Now, you had to play this right. You couldn't just outright tell him you bought perfume that would have him slobbering all over you, no. That would defeat the purpose of your little experiment.

So instead you played coy and sniffed at the air just as he did, nose turning up with a gentle shake of your head and small bob of your shoulders.

"I don't smell anything."

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing with a slight slack of his jaw, tongue poking through the side of his teeth while he studied you.

"You don't smell that?" Joel pressed further, almost exasperatedly.

"Smell what, Joel?" A quiet titter sounded with your words, brows arching as an amused grin toyed at your lips.

"Jus'..." Joel trailed off, wetting his lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. The scent wasn't too overbearing. It was sweet, musky, and a hint of something so conversant. Something that always managed to get him hot under the collar. A heat that not even the dry summers he endured on a frequent basis could compare to.

That's when you leaned over him- totally not at all planned- reaching an arm past to grab one of the magazines on the end table. Joel drew another quick breath and it hit him. Before you could retreat he snatched your wrist with a tight grip, pupils dilated widely with parted lips. " 'S' you..." He murmured, attention solely on you and you alone.

The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smug smirk, "Is it?" You hushed back, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist, slowly trailing up your arm and to your shoulder. A curt chuckle sounded from his chest as his own lips turned up. "Mm, I think so, baby," Now his lips danced on the crook of your neck, taking another whiff.

'Oh, fuck, that's good.' He thought, emitting a low growl.

"Yeah..." He purred, teeth grazing over your pulse point and eliciting a quiet moan from you, "that's alllll you, darlin'."

Hell, if Joel was tired before, he was certainly up now- in more ways than one.

"C'mere, pretty girl," He muttered and sat back, legs spread as he motioned two fingers in your direction. He watched with hungry intent as you crawled into his lap, thighs straddling his. Joel pawed at your hips, rolling them forward against the bulge straining in the confinements of his jeans with a grunt.

"Got me so damn hard an' ya haven't even done anything," With another forced roll, he throws his head back with a sigh. "Ride." He ordered with a strained voice, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You didn't move just yet, however, and took in the sight of him; eyes shut and brows knitted softly, plush lips parted.

"Ride," Joel repeated with a firm smack to the meat of your ass, making you yelp and rut against him once more. You could feel the warm thickness of his cramped length through the thin cloth of your leggings, each continuous grind against your clit made you writhe in pleasure.

Good god, you were doing a number on him. He bucked his hips up in time with yours, panting faintly before sitting up and wrapping his thick, strong arms around your body.

Joel buried his nose into your neck again, allowing your enticing scent to flood his mind. His stomach tightened, and he had to pull you off his lap before he came in his underwear like a damn teen. You whine at the loss of friction, expression forming a soft pout as he laid you down, head against the armrest.

"I know, baby, I know," Joel cooed and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, " 'M gonna take care'a ya." He leaned down and planted a quick peck to the side of your nose.

"Always do, don't I?"

The man lowered himself down your body, hands stopping to caress and grab every now and then before slipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, swiftly tugging them down and watched as a string of arousal pulled, connecting the fabric to your lips. He smirked, relishing the fact you were just as turned on as he was, but what really caught his attention was-

"No panties?" He quirked a brow, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face as he continued shimmying you out of your pants. "Y'had this planned, didn't ya?"

You chuckled, biting your lip meekly and avert your gaze. Whoops! Caught.

"So, what is it?" He asked, curling a leg into the couch as the other planted on the floor, his head dipping to your center and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the inner crease of your hip.

"Surrender," You answered breathily, peering down at him as continued lavishing you with loving smooches and pecks, his wiry facial hair scratching at your body that only fanned the flames in your tummy.

His brows drew together with a vague frown as he lifted his head, "Whaddya think I'm tryin' ta do right now?"

Even though his words made you clench around nothing, you still couldn't help but laugh and bring a hand to your mouth to stop yourself. With a shake of your head you say, "No, dummy. I mean, that's the name of the perfume I bought."

Joel tilted his head back in a slight nod, uttering a soft 'Ohhh.'

"I dunno how I was s'posed ta know that," his head lowered once more, breath fanning over your wet heat and flicked his eyes to meet yours, "but it's fitting."

He didn't even give you a chance to process what he said before diving straight into your folds, tongue lapping over every crevice and drinking you down.

"O-oh, fu-fuck!" You breathed out, thighs instinctively closing around his head as your hand grasped at his sweat-matted brown hair.

He growled into your cunt, bracing his hands on either side of the soft, pillowy flesh of your legs and forcing you open again. Normally, Joel loved using them as his own personal pair of earmuffs, but now? He wanted you spread for him, needed it actually. He'd drown in you if he could, and by god he'd willingly die trying.

His mouth detached for a moment, just long enough for him to stick out his tongue and let a string of drool fall over your labia, watching with a satisfied smirk as it slid down to your entrance. Snaking a hand from under your thigh, he brought two fingers to your clit, brushing the pads of them over it with teasing glides. Your hips twitched and bucked with a soft mewl leaving your throat.

Joel dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before lowering his fingers. Down, down, then circling at your hole and slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest, back arching as you finally got that stretch; so achingly sweet.

His cock twitched at the sound, begging to be let free and seek shelter deep inside your pussy. He had enough restraint (for now) to get you off first.

And they say chivalry is dead...

He latched his mouth back onto you, slurping obscenely as he licked his way up, fingers curling into the spongy spot of your canal.

"Jo- oh- el!" You cried his name brokenly, hand closing a tight fist into his hair with a tug. You could feel the fucker- no pun intended- smirk against you as he pumped his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as he suckled on the sensitive button. Your whines grew more relentless, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue and holding his head in place as the coil in your stomach began to tighten.

Joel felt you clench around his fingers and took that, along with the way you fervently bumped against the bridge of his nose, as a sign you were close. With a wince he reached his free hand to his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the fly down, reaching in and finally pulling out his hard cock.

Said hand went back to its rightful place against your thigh while he rutted against the cushions, pre-cum making a mess into the leather.

"C'mon, darlin'," He murmured, taking a quick glance at you and reveled in the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the arm rest. "Give it t'me, cum around my fingers." You didn't need to be told twice. In an instant, that coil snapped. Your legs trembled and shook as your climax ripped through your body, eyes snapping open and mouth agape, but no sound came out other than a few breathy whimpers.

"Good girl," Joel praised, still subtly grinding against the couch, desperate for his own release. "Good fuckin' girl." You had made a complete mess of his hand, your spend dripping down his fingers, into his palm and down his wrist, dribbling onto the sofa.

After your body relaxed, hand releasing the harsh grip from his hair, Joel pulled his fingers from you, making a shudder run up your spine. He sat back on his haunches, pushing his hand to your mouth and said, "Open."

Complying happily in your blissed-out state, your jaw slacked, allowing him to slide his soaked fingers into you warm mouth, palming himself with his other hand while he watched your lips close around the digits, feeling your tongue lick and clean your slick off them.

With a satisfied hum, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, greedily shoving his way past your teeth and licking the roof of your mouth.

Joel backed away, staring deep into your eyes. He huffed, pulling his pants down further, stepping out of one leg. He was so fucking horny and desperate right now he wasn't going to bother with the other one. This would do just fine.

"Need t'fuck you, baby," He spoke in a hushed tone, and without further warning he grabbed your leg and hooked it around his waist just before sliding right in with ease.

The two of you moan in unison. Either he was fucking huge- spoiler, he was- or you were really fucking tight.

Joel collapsed, a hand splayed next to your head to catch himself so he wouldn't fall directly on top of you as he bared his teeth with a hiss.

"Chris' onna damn bike," He slurred, gently lowering himself further and snaking an arm under you as he lazily thrusted into you.

He glanced down to where you two met, watching as he delved in further, "She's jus' swallowin' me in."

An aquiline nose sought out your neck, the sound of Joel consuming your scent filled your ears once more. He simply couldn't get enough. Hips snapped against yours incessantly, skin against skin bouncing off the walls and drowning out the sound of the tv in the background.

The man above reached a hand under your shirt, groping and squeezing your tit as he lowered his forehead to yours, half-lidded eyes boring into yours intently.

"Fuck," He muttered, eyes widening, hips stuttering, "Fuck, 'm close." Joel was a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made it to the finish line so quickly.

He was quick to remove his hand from under your shirt, finger dipping to the spot where his cock pumped in and out, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your puffy clit yet again.

"Y'think you can gimme another'n, honey?"

"Y-yeah," You nod, feeling that familiar flame lick up your spine. "Wanna cum on your cock."

Joel's lip curled into a snarl at your admission, eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. His movements blundered, then he pulled out, leaving just the tip slotted in your entrance.

"Please," he whined. Whined.

That fucking did it. Your body tightened for the second time this evening, eager to let go and milk Joel of every last drop he had to offer.

"I'm c-" He interjected with a slam of his hips, making you see stars as he fucked you through your orgasm, the head of his dick tapping your cervix as he pushed himself as deep as he could, jerking into you almost feverishly. Your name fell off his tongue like a mantra while he held you flush against him, your back peeling off the leather with arms wrapped around his back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky, sweaty scent of him- your personal favorite brand of 'pheromone perfume' he wears.

After his body lightened, he turned his head and placed a listless, yet tender kiss to your temple. You made a move to crawl away, but that made his grip on you tighten.

"Not yet," he spoke lowly and leaned back, pulling you with him. "Wanna stay like this. Jus' for a minute."

His hand smoothed back your hair, the two of you laid there in silence to catch your breath. After a good ten minutes or so, you lift your head to peek at him, "So, I take it you liked the perfume?"

Joel offered a lopsided smile, rolling his head to the side with a swallow, "Loved it, darlin'."

You'd have to remember to buy more in the future.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

hi, hello, thank you for reading. as stated above, i’m still basically re-learning to write. i’m trying to get in the hang of properly pacing out the story, not too rushed but not too wordy either. feedback is appreciated! pls feel free to interact with a reblog or comment <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #tlou #the last of us #joel miller one shot #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction

[wonysugar]

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable. 

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however, 

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect. 

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face. 

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again. 

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing. 

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her. 

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip. 

plus, her panties were wet. 

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down. 

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger. 

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her. 

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation. 

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment. 

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair. 

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?” 

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?” 

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs. 

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“wanna bake brownies in a bit?” 

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

#smut #kpop gg #hanni pham newjeans #hanni newjeans #newjeans smut #hanni pham #hanni pham x female reader #hanni x reader #hanni x fem reader #hanni pham x fem reader #hanni smut #newjeans hanni #female reader #kpop gg smut #kpop girlgroups

[goldengalore]

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

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[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Young Azriel (twenty years old) in Windhaven. A deliciously cliche trope that’s always fun to write. You and Az are close friends, and that’s why he trusts you with a certain insecurity. And also why you come up with an interesting solution. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea, though…

Word count: 4.5k.

Warnings: None.

These nights are cold and unforgiving.

The snow began hammering down in silent droves a couple of hours before. A thick layer of it now blankets the ground and paints the Windhaven camp a brutal white that makes you glance at the boots on your feet. Basic, brown boots that will be soaked and frozen by the time you reach your shoddy hovel of a house. You should have left at the sight of the first snowflake that kissed the ground.

But Rhysand’s mother’s cottage is warm and cosy in a way that yours isn’t. It lulls you to sit back rather than sit up, the fire crackling away in the corner and the smell of spilled ale tinging the air, Cassian’s clumsiness, of course. Your friends eyeball each other around the table, and this game of cards has been going on for too long, and you think your eyes might be growing heavy. If you don’t muster the energy to walk home now, you’ll regret it.

“I’m out.” You announce wisely, eyeing the pitiful deal of cards in your hands. You pile them atop of the table, stretching your arms above your head. The game continues around you.

Playing cards with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel is always a little amusing — seeing them transform from boisterous, drunken fools to serious, suspicious competitors. They study each other across the top of their cards as if there are any real takings to be had by the winner — but Rhysand’s mother would have your heads if you actually gambled under her roof, so a pile of plastic buttons it is.

Certainly not an incentive to stay any longer.

You stand from your chair, earning curious looks from your three friends. To them, the night is young, at least while Rhys’s mother isn’t here to berate you about the late hour — two, three o’clock, perhaps — but to you, with an unpleasant journey across the camp still to be completed, the night is very much old and very much over.

“I’m heading home before the weather gets any worse.” You announce, plucking your jacket from the back of your chair. “Enjoy the rest of your game, ladies.”

Cassian snorts and Rhys studies his cards once more, ever the serious player, but it’s Azriel — Azriel, who places his dealt hand face-down on the table and also stands from his seat.

“I’ll walk with you.” He announces. Your other two friends don’t so much as bat an eyelash at the offer, because it’s a regular one, one you’ve heard a thousand times and one you know not to politely protest.

Azriel is your closest friend in this gods-forsaken place. And he will genuinely plunge a dagger into his heart before allowing you to brave your walk home alone.

So, you wait by the door as he shucks his jacket on, sliding warm gloves over his scarred hands. And then you’re opening the door, and a savage flurry of snow is pelting your face like it’s been waiting to attack.

“Fucking hell, close the door.” Cass grouses. “It’s glacial out there.”

As if, as Illyrians, the four of you aren’t used to the brutal temperatures. You roll your eyes at his whining and shove your hands into your pockets, before planting a boot into the thick layer of snow already on the ground. You grimace at how little protection your shoes afford you. Twenty years you’ve lived here. You should know better, be more prepared. Hopefully you can make it home before your feet turn to blocks of ice.

“Goodnight, assholes.” You call over your shoulder, and your friends momentarily break from their poker faces to return the sentiment. “Love you!”, Cassian calls, and “Keep warm!”, Rhysand reminds you, and then Azriel is following you out of the door.

“Cass is definitely losing that game.” The Shadowsinger immediately sidles close to you, his side pressed against yours. It doesn’t do much against the glowering cold, but it’s a comfort.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to hear it across the camp the moment he realises.” You breathe a laugh, curling in on yourself. Not only is the temperature simply unpleasant, but it also causes you pain — any extreme weather seems to make the ruined remains of your clipped wings twinge. You search for a subject to distract yourself from the sensation. “How come you didn’t invite Kaeda tonight?”

The name of Azriel’s recent interest has him angling himself towards you, snowflakes catching in his hair. He raises a dark eyebrow. “We’ve not moved past the casual stage yet. Certainly not enough to subject her to Cassian’s company.”

“Shame. It’d be nice to have another female around.” Rhysand’s cousin, Mor, sometimes comes to visit, and you have a few good female friends around the camp, but in your closest circle, you’re a little outnumbered.

Something that didn’t seem to matter so much when you were all younglings making mischief. But you’re adults now. Things are different. You are different.

Azriel presses his arm into yours. “If things progress, I’ll bring her to meet the three of you.”

That’d be nice, you think. To have another friend, and to see Azriel happy. See him appreciated. He deserves to be appreciated.

“And are they?” You press back. “Progressing?”

It’s then that there’s the slightest shift in his demeanour. Anyone else might not catch it — he’s the Shadowsinger, after all, and damn well guarded and cryptic and good at hiding what he’s thinking, feeling. But you’ve known him since you were mere, little runts, and you know every little mannerism.

Even in the freezing cold, Azriel blushes. Turns coy.

“What?” You urge, trying and failing to read him.

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I want to kiss her.”

“Then why don’t you?

“I want to do it right. I don’t…I don’t want to fuck it up.”

The concern seems like a baseless one. You’re sure Azriel has kissed people before, although he’s always been considerably more reserved than Cassian and Rhys when it comes to females, and you’re not certain how far he’s ever gone. Of all the things you talk about, this isn’t usually one of them. You’re not sure why.

But you’ll help, if possible. You mull over his words as the two of you crunch through thick snow, more and more of it seeping into your useless shoes. The soles of them are worn, and you need a new pair, but you can ill afford it right now. Eventually, the cold starts to get painful, and you stop for a moment, leaning on Az’s arm as you swear quietly.

“There’s no way you’re making it home in those.” He’s totally right, of course. “I told you to get new ones.”

“And I told you, I can’t afford them.” Your toes are numb, now.

“I could fly you straight to your door—”

“Az, you know you can’t.” You sigh; the two of you have had this conversation countless times, because Az takes your safety very seriously indeed. “My father won’t like it.”

It’s not like your father isn’t aware that you’ve been friends with Az and the others since you were youngsters. But as you’ve gotten older, he’s only gotten more paranoid. The last person in the godsdamn universe he would want to think about you having relations with is any of your three closest friends. And if he so much as catches a whiff of them at your door, one of you is sure to pay for it.

Azriel knows you’re right, even if he doesn’t like it. He curses under his breath, and then his arms are snaking around you. “Alright. Hold on to me.”

“What are you…” You cling to him as much as your frozen fingers will allow. He’s always a little warmer than you are, and the feeling is pleasant. As pleasant as his scent is. So naturally, you press closer to him.

“We’ll go to the mead hall.” Azriel explains. “No one will be there now, but the hearths will still be warm. We can spend the night there, and I’ll fly you home in the morning when your father has left for the forge.”

The mead hall is where the Illyrian families across the camp congregate almost nightly to eat their dinner and learn of camp news. It mostly becomes an unpleasant atmosphere, with the males drinking too much and at least one fight certain to break out. You try to attend as little as possible, opting to eat your meals elsewhere, usually in the company of your friends, but your father sometimes insists that you accompany him and drag his drunken ass back home afterwards.

At this time of night, though, the brutes will have been long kicked out and sent home. The cooks will have followed soon after, and the only remaining presence in the long hall is the heat that filled the place. The mere thought of it is a mouthwatering one.

Unsurprisingly, it’s locked, and unsurprisingly, Azriel and his shadows get the door open as if it isn’t. He places you down in the entrance, and you’re immediately heading through to the mammoth dining hall, the warmth breathing out at you and thawing your frozen skin.

Az’s boots thud on the wooden floor after you, leaving little patches of melting snow in his wake. “I’ll get another fire going.”

You hop up onto one of the long wooden tables, first kicking off your sodden shoes and then stuffing your socks into them. You wiggle your toes, trying to generate some warmth into your pinkened feet.

You watch Azriel from across the room. The strands of his dark hair are damp and falling into his eyes, his skin cold-bitten. Sometimes, in moments like these, it stuns you how beautiful your closest friend is. You suppose it’s easy to forget, sometimes, when you’ve known somebody for so long; easy to become desensitised to their beauty. But looking at him like this, you’re sure he must have a whole line of suitors — both female and male — vying for his attention. Even if it’s something he never talks about.

To you, he’s just Az. And you can’t help snorting quietly as he so predictably scoops your shoes and socks up and places them by the fire he has lit.

A mother hen, truly.

“You should start to warm up any second.” He says, traipsing back over to where you’re sat. He slots himself between your legs, and his warmed hands cup your face. “I’m going to buy you a new pair of boots.”

“No you’re not.” You immediately quip, narrowing your eyes up at him. “I’ll buy them when my father chooses to pay me.”

You know it ticks him off — he, like the other adult males, gets a semi-decent wage for his commitment to the Illyrian army, the hours of training he puts in. You, on the other hand, might spend hours — days — helping out in your father’s forge, using the skills you’ve observed from him, and you’ll still only see the flash of a coin on a rare day that he decides he tolerates having a daughter, and that you’re not so bad, after all.

Hence why Azriel can afford a pair of boots, and you can’t. But you’ll not take his money.

So, you change the subject, relaxing into the pleasant sensation of his shadows tickling your skin, warming you. “Why would you fuck it up?”

Azriel’s face turns blank. “What?”

“You said you don’t want to fuck up kissing Kaeda. Why do you think you would?”

He stares back at you for a beat. And then his cheeks darken imperceptibly — nothing to do with the cold.

It surprises you. Az can be coy; shy, even. He’s the quietest of the three males in your circle. A pensive observer, never having much to say but certainly always having much to think about. And you know he has his insecurities, things that bother him, but he’s mostly sure of himself. Knows his power, his strength.

You’re not quite used to him balking from a subject. Becoming flustered by it.

“Has anyone complained about your technique before?” You cock an eyebrow, already knowing that no, they absolutely haven’t. Azriel has very full, kissable lips — something you’ve observed a couple of times before. In a totally platonic way, of course. Totally.

“I didn’t say that,” he lowers his gaze, “I—”

“Just go for it.” You reach up, pinching his flushed cheek between your fingers. “Jump right in and land one on Kaeda. Impress her with your kissing prowess—”

“You,” he tugs your hand away, “are so annoying—”

“The rest will naturally follow when you have your tongue in her mouth. Trust me. And then you’ll be wondering why you were worried in the first place—”

“Except that I’ve never kissed anybody before.”

Immediately, you fall still.

He may as well have shouted the words, from how loudly they seem to echo through the hall.

You stare up at your dear friend, and you blink. Wait for the punchline. Wait for a teasing grin to tug at the corner of his lips — something that very few people other than you get to witness — and for him to tell you that he’s jesting, and of course he’s kissed somebody before, and done a lot more stuff than that, too. All the stuff. Every bit of it. Over and over again—

“Let’s just drop it.” He murmurs, stepping away. You think you might have offended him with your silence, your surprise.

“Wait.” You blink, grasping hold of his arm. “Just…wait.”

He studies you. “Is it that much of a shock?”

Honestly? Yes, yes, it is. Because how did you not know this? You met Azriel when you were both eleven years old. Nine years ago. You faced puberty together and all the awkward things in between. And while you may not sit and discuss the ins and outs of your respective experiences, you simply assumed that his were progressing and evolving just as yours had. Cauldron, Rhys and Cassian stuck their cocks in different males and females every other week. You supposed you’d merely…grouped Azriel in with such things.

But when you think about it — really, truly think about it — Azriel is the only one of the three males who has never introduced another female to the group; no matter how short or fleeting their presence might be. You can’t pluck from your brain a single name he’s ever mentioned besides Kaeda — and that’s a very recent thing.

You’re still waiting a teeny, tiny, little bit for him to say he’s joking. But his cheeks are redder than ever.

“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You repeat, blinking at him.

He purses his lips. “I haven’t.”

“You’ve never pressed your lips to another person’s—”

“I think we’ve established that, Y/N.” He pivots, turning his back on you. “Just forget it.”

“No, wait, fuck, Az, you know I’m shit with words.” You reach for his hand. “Just…how come? Why have you never kissed anybody?”

His hand is tense in yours. You don’t like it. So many times, you’ve held his hand, felt his fingers fold around yours and your palms warm against each other’s. But he holds it limp, now, barely any weight to it. You give it a gentle squeeze.

He pauses. Then squeezes back.

And it’s then that you realise that’s where the problem lies — his hands. Scars.

“Az,” you sigh softly, tugging him closer to you. “Your hands are beautiful. A part of you, your story. Anyone worth knowing — worth kissing — will think the same.”

And gods, you mean the words with every tiny shred of your spirit and soul. There’s no one on the Mother’s green earth that you love more fiercely than the male in front of you. So kind, despite the hatred that’s been shown to him. So gentle, despite the brutality of your environment. He’s wiped your tears and kept you warm and shared his food and given you a place to sleep when your father has made your life particularly difficult. Platonic soulmates exist, and Azriel is yours.

He turns back to you and keeps hold of your hand. And he chews his bottom lip as he says, “I do know that. I know that not everybody is judgemental. But it’s not just the scars.”

You brush your thumb over the back of his palm. “What else is it?”

“I just simply don’t know…how. Fuck, theoretically, of course I know how kissing works. I’ve seen it more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at it. I could be awful, for all I know.”

You highly, highly doubt that to be the case. “You just…practice. Until you know what you like. Until you know your technique.”

Hazel eyes study you curiously. “So…you have, then. Practiced.”

It’s rather strange, but a sudden, random slither of guilt presses down on your shoulders. Silly, because Azriel would never begrudge you your experiences — and you’ve had plenty of them, good and bad.

But in that moment, you want nothing more than to be able to tell him that you, too, have never kissed anybody. That you’ve never touched anybody or lain with anybody. That you’re just as inexperienced and clueless as he is.

But that would be a bare-faced lie. And you and Azriel do not lie to each other.

So perhaps it’s the guilt that causes you to blurt out, “Practice on me.”

Azriel blinks at you. His hand slackens in yours. “What?”

And fuck, you’ve said it now. You’re not sure whether or not you even meant to, but you think it’d be more awkward to retract the words than stand by them and ride them out. You square your shoulders. Try to seem sure, confident.

“Practice kissing with me.”

The poor male is completely dumbfounded. “You’re…my friend.”

“Yes, Azriel. That’s why I’m offering. Practice on me, refine your technique, and then you can apply that confidence to Kaeda.”

“Practice…on you…”

“I’m trying really hard not to be offended by the disgust that’s on your face right now.”

“Shit, no, that’s not—”

“You know what? Forget I said that. Dumb idea. Terrible idea. Forget I even mentioned it.”

Az stares at you. And you don’t want to balk from the eye contact, but you also totally want to throw yourself in the fire, because it would burn less than your embarrassment right now.

And then he says, “Is it a serious offer?”

You lift one shoulder into a shrug. “Why not?”

Oh, there are a million fucking reasons why not. The most pressing being that yours and Azriel’s friendship is, perhaps, the most stable thing in your life. Certainly the most precious and treasured. Rocking that is a very bad idea, indeed.

And you think, for a moment, that that’s precisely what Az is going to tell you. He has that look on his face that he usually gets when you’re about to do something stupid. The one where he chews the inside of his cheek and his eyes rove your face.

But then the word leaves him, quiet and a little breathless, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I accept your offer.”

He—damn. You didn’t think this far; suppose you didn’t expect him to actually agree. And yet here he is, agreeing.

Suddenly, you feel like you’ve never kissed anybody, either.

But you’re supposed to be guiding him here. So you sit up straight. Lift your chin. Azriel watches, eyeing you a little like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. The bewilderment on his face squeezes your heart a bit.

“Do you want to do it now?” You ask.

He swallows. And his eyes fall down to your lips before flicking back to meet yours. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”

And there isn’t. The two of you are here alone, no background noise from Cassian or Rhysand to battle with. It’s just you and Azriel. Your eyes. Your mouths.

You realise you’re still holding his hand, and so you use it to pull him closer to you, slot him back between your legs. You’re certain he’s trembling, and you are, too.

“Just take your time.” You tell him. “Let your body lead. Do what feels natural.”

He gives a stiff nod. And pauses. “And you promise to be honest afterwards? About how it was?”

Your eyes soften. “Always, Az.”

He nods again, and then he’s sucking in a slow, steadying breath. You remain still, allowing him to make the first move, to do whatever he wants.

There’s a pause of heavy silence, and then he dips his head. Kisses you once.

It’s a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Sweet, if not a little stiff and awkward. But you know Azriel is testing the waters, deciding whether he truly wants to do this. If he surmises that he absolutely doesn’t, you’ll stop, say no more about it. You keep still and allow him to decide.

And when he pulls back to study you, you give him a reassuring smile. One that silently communicates, I’m fine, we’re fine, this is fine.

It seems to give him the little boost he needs.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Slowly, he slips his hand out of yours, and you allow him to. You watch as he inches even closer. Moves his hands up to rest at either side of your face.

When he’s cupping your cheeks, his eyes meet yours, and he whispers. “Is this okay?”

You squeeze his forearm once. “It’s fine, Az. Do whatever you feel you want to do. I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything.”

He nods, and his gaze drags down to your lips. You’re still, careful, not moving until he’s ready to. And maybe he’ll not feel ready. Maybe he’ll stop this and pull back and decide it’s a terrible idea—

No.

Azriel’s thumb sweeps over your cheek. And then he leans in and presses his mouth to yours a second time.

This time, it’s different — you can tell straight away.

It starts out slow, his lips exploring yours, moulding to the shape of them. The kiss is a caress on your mouth, and it’s a damn good start. You find yourself leaning into it. Kissing back.

For a split second, you feel Az pause. But then his hand is cupping your cheek firmer, the heat of his palm meeting the heat of your face and making you forget how cold you were only minutes ago. Az’s lips part, and so naturally, yours do the same. You kiss him gladly.

And he’s not bad at all. You’ve kissed far more experienced males with far worse technique. Azriel may be nervous and tentative, but there’s something there, lurking beneath the surface. Something that will grow with the right encouragement, the right amount of confidence.

You…you want to give him both.

But it’s important to remember why you’re doing this. For his sake. So he can comfortably kiss the female he’s interested in.

You part from him momentarily, his breath fanning your lips as you ask him, “Are you doing okay?”

“I am.” There’s a rasp to his voice. “Are you?”

“I’m doing great.”

And you are. The weight of Azriel’s hand on your cheek is surprisingly pleasant. This exploration is new, and it’s thrilling, and it’s nice. It feels…nice.

“Do you want to keep going?” You know what you want to do. “Or would you like to stop? Whatever you want, Az.���

He swallows again. “I want to keep going.”

You nod, and in gentle encouragement, you move your hands to rest at his waist. You must be imagining the slight tremor that wracks through Azriel’s body in that moment. Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence.

There’s no time to think, because he dips his head and catches your lips faster this time. He tilts your head up, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. Your lips part, and so do his.

Az’s tongue seems to tease the seam of your lips. And then he slides it into your mouth.

His taste invades you so suddenly, so thoroughly, that you gasp. It’s something rough and smoky. Rugged and pleasant. You can’t think of the exact words as his tongue meets yours, and nor do you care to. All you want to do is reciprocate. Kiss him.

You scoot forward on the table, lifting yourself up slightly to add a touch more fervour to the kiss. Your tongue rolls around Azriel’s, and it’s so damn good, so damn sinful, so damn unexpected.

You’re aware, somewhat, of Azriel’s hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck. And he licks at the roof of your mouth, and at your tongue, and somehow at every part of you that has you wanting more. His lips work perfectly with yours, not faltering once.

In that moment, you might forget who you are and what your life story is, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget this — this kiss of pure, salacious, unguarded need. If this is what Azriel kisses like for the first time, you can’t imagine how he could possibly progress. How it could get better than this.

One of you makes a needy little noise — you think it might have come from him, but it lands in your mouth, anyway. And then you’re being yanked closer, and your hands are moving up to tangle within Azriel’s hair, and you’re tugging the strands and pulling him against you and kissing him so desperately that you’re sure you’re going to feel it days, weeks, months from now. Azriel’s fingers knead the back of your neck, and your legs snake around his waist, locking him in.

There’s movement. Natural, pleasant movement — you, him, both of you together, moving and shifting.

You don’t know at which point you’re lying back on the table, or which of you made it happen; but suddenly Azriel is hovering over you, his body flush to yours, too-hot parts of you meeting too-hot parts of him.

The kiss is burning, and needy, and you writhe beneath him, and he writhes on top of you, and he’s pressing against you, and you both groan.

And then Az breaks away.

He doesn’t move far — just rips his lips from yours.

You’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath. Azriel blinks down at you, and you blink up at him.

And in that moment, you become aware of just how far this has slipped. He’s basically lying on top of you, his body moving with yours. Your scents have changed and combined, and you both know what the earthier, deeper quality to them means.

That you got a little carried away. And this needs to stop — now.

Azriel stares down at you, panting against your mouth as your heart thunders in your ears.

“Fuck.” Is all he says.

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

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[shegatsby]

i'm aching for feyd rautha x fremen reader!!! perhaps soulmate situation where feyd has dreams about reader and is UTTERLY OBSESSED (please i yearn) ((im so normal about feyd rautha)) also pls drink water and its no rush :))

A/n; HIIIII! This is my first Feyd-Rautha fanfic so go easy on me. Thank you so much for this request, not me giggling and blushing as i was writing this. English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry for any typos.

Words; 5.315K (wow i out did myself lol)

Warnings; War, killing, abduction

He was running, he could feel the rain on his face but he kept running. Moist sand and wet mélange filled his nostrils, the damp sand stuck to his heavy boots, the sound they made was similar to walking on the fresh snow. He never thought he could smell things in his dreams, ‘’Find me.’’  A woman’s soft voice echoed in his ears, ‘’I dare you.’’ And there she was, standing in her stillsuit, hair long and wet, over the years her face was getting more and more clear. Before Feyd could reach and grab her he woke up. He was sweating and he wasn’t in Arrakis, he was in Giedi Prime, House Harkonnen. He could feel the cold satin of his sheets, ‘’Who are you?’’ he whispered into thin air, nothing moved or made a sound. His room was dark, as usual. He rose to his feet and walked to the large glass, his side of the castle over looked the volcanic wasteland that was Giedi Prime, heavly industrialized, low photosynthesis. Harkonnen’s kept the original forests but other than that everything was stone and building.

Feyd-Rautha was a rational man when it comes to these things, however, he kept having these dreams since he was a child. In his dreams he was either in his home planet or Arrakis, he wasn’t alone. The girl in his dreams had always been distant, over the years the girl kept coming closer and closer. Last few months he could see her face clearly. She was a beauty, none of his concubines could match it. Sometimes they would sit in silence or he would chase her… he was going to lose his mind. He needed answers to these dreams, with the arrival of Reverend Mother Helen Mohiam he hoped to get those answers he was looking for. He ordered his men to keep the Reverend Mother at greeting room, when he got ready he left his chambers in a hasty manner. He was a man of action and he didn’t like waiting or making his guest wait, he had a reputation to keep.

Reverend Mother was seated at one of the metal chairs, covered in black clothing, she fitted the room, the castle of Harkonnen was mostly black and grey, servants and soldiers had to wear the same colors as well.

At first Reverend Mother had to test him to see if he was human or not, he followed her instructions and put his hand in a box, he had to endure the pain which was something he got used to and he even enjoyed getting hurt but this was something else. He could feel his hand burn and freeze at the same time, visions ran at a fast speed in his mind’s eyes. He was eager to prove himself so he didn’t flinch, he could feel sweat running down his face, Reverend Mother didn’t not react at all.

‘’You have passed the test.’’ She announced in a flat tone but he knew she was impressed.

‘’My turn.’’  He said which confused the old woman, he was kneeling for this test so he bolted to his feet and took a step back. Hands clasped at his back, he seemed intimidating in his black tunic and pants. His boots made him look much taller than others and he was already a tall man.

‘’What do you know about dreams?’’

‘’Tell me yours and I shall reveal the truth.’’ His eyes searched her face, which was difficult to see through her thin scarf, ‘’I-‘’ he started, ‘’I see.. her.’’ He was hesitant. Reverend Mother noticed the way he said ‘’her’’ this woman must be of importance. ‘’Go on.’’ Old age made her curious for gossip and she thought she was about hear the juiciest one, she didn’t know she was going to discover something larger. Larger than anyone on this Universe.

‘’I’m usually in Arrakis, it rains, and I see her. She speaks to me. She wants me to find her in the desert. I believe she is a Fremen.’’ He shortly explains, Reverend Mother leaned in, ‘’What does he say exactly?’’ Feyd felt naked before this old witch. ‘’ ‘Find me.’ She says, I could hear her in my mind. She wants us to unite.’’ There was a silence, his patience running thin, was he going insaner than usual or these dreams meant something?

‘’Arrakis… rain.. a girl…’’ he heard Reverend Mother whisper to herself, ‘’How long have you been having these dreams?’’ she asked, she was the one who suppose to give answers to him and yet she was questioning him. ‘’Since my childhood.’’ And with that Reverend Mother quickly stood up, which was quicker than expected, considering her age. ‘’I must speak to your uncle Baron Vladimir. Wait us here.’’ He had no choice now, the Pandora’s box was opened. He would rather fight in the arena than waiting here. He was pacing in the large room that had black marble floors, his boots made distinctive sound son the cold floor, his head turned to the doors of the room when they were opened by the servants, his uncle came floating, next to him Reverend Mother followed, Baron was ear to ear smiling, ‘’Hearing these news on your name day is nothing but fate.’’ The old man announced, it was true. Today was Feyd-Rautha’s name day and a ceremony was waiting for him later. ‘’Congratulations, Reverend Mother here says you’ll be the one who raise Harkonnen to its glory.’’ He said with his raspy voice, he seemed joyful even, well, a joy that fit him, cold and calculating. Feyd’s snake like neck moved in questioning, ‘’What about Rabban?’’ his brother Rabban was in Arrakis, ruling in the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, mostly failing him and their family. ‘’He will be reassigned.’’ In their family this meant that it was his last chance, or he would be killed.

‘’Enjoy Arrakis.’’ A cunning smile made him look even more terrifying. He left them alone, Feyd was confused but also the idea of controlling spice made his body electric. ‘’To fulfill your destiny you have to find that Fremen and to secure your place you have to join your house with their kind. They shall be easier to control. I’m sure she is waiting for you to claim her.’’ Reverend Mother was testing the waters, she watched Feyd-Rautha’s expression change into predator mode after she spoke. Now it was a hunt for him and she knew that he won’t stop until he fulfilled his mission.

Feyd knew what Reverend Mother meant but to join with the barbarians?! His house’s reputation could be at stake. He was a psychotic killer but he had rules. He will not tolerate anything that might humiliate his family name. he didn’t want to think further about this so he found himself marching to the arena. After the games he was suppose to have his ceremony and be shipped to Arrakis, his new home.

His ‘’ascending’’ to the title of ‘’Na-Baron’’ was well organized. Rabban lost his rank so it was his time to shine, bring glory and fame to his name and his house. Among the loud cries and applauses Baron Vladimir held his nephew’s face in his sweaty palms and whispered into his ears, ‘’Do not fail me son.’’ It wasn’t coming from affection, it was a threat. He knew his missions;

‘’Control Rabban,

Take over the spice production and multiply the income,

Fulfill what Reverend Mother said.’’

First two were easy…

That night he was shipped to Arrakis with an army and his most loyaly men. As soon as he landed he had one thing in mind, ‘’make Rabban pay for his foolishness’’, ‘’My Na-Baron,’’ servants greeted him outside the castle of Arrakis, hot sun hit his face, he could smell the mélange. ‘’Lord Rabban is waiting for you.’’ As she walked to the Coordination Chambers he watched servants bow in fear and respect. He liked what he saw. Without waiting for servants to open the door for him he barged in. ‘’Rabban!’’ he yelled in animalistic anger. No one noticed the was Rabban flinched but him. ‘’You have humiliated our house,’’ he took a step towards him, ‘’you have humiliated me.’’ And another step. ‘’Kiss my foot.’’ He said cautiously, waiting for Rabban’s reaction and since none came Feyd pushed Rabban to the floor, ‘’Kiss or die.’’ Rabban  had no choice but to give in.

Following days were easy. Fremens didn’t know the change in command so first attack was successful. Spice production was slow but promising. Other houses started to send gifts and letters to him to gain his favor. ‘’He who controls the spice controls the entire galaxy.’’ his uncle used to say to him as a child and he was right.

Weeks passed and every time he launched an attack he was also at the front with his men. Main reason was his thirst for blood and gore, however a side of him was looking for something or rather someone. Ever since his arrival his dreams became more frequent and vivid.

The girl kept saying ‘’You’re close.’’

She must be near he could feel it, but among thousands of Fremen girls how was he suppose to find her?

Whenever they attacked he ordered his men to gather Fremen girls who were close to his age, after capturing them he would look at their faces and try to find her but his research was in vain, or so he thought.

Months passed, he was growing restless and Fremen knew how to fight. Disputes were bringing imbalance to the realm. He was refusing to sleep due to the fact that you were in his dreams and he was making plans, growing tactics to find you.  Also he didn’t have much time since the Padishah Emperor Shaddam sent him a letter;

‘’Find what you are looking for and bring stability.’’

It was a direct order otherwise he knew that Padishah Emperor would sent his soldiers, Sardaukars to take over what he had established so far.

After that letter his attacks grew more persistent.

‘’Na-Baron, Prisoners are here.’’ Without changing his blood dripping battle suit he marched to the room where the prisoners were kept. They were all on their knees, hands tied behind their backs. ‘’How many?’’ he asked to his general, removing his leather gloves, ‘’20 my Na-Baron.’’

Sleepless night had a toll on him, he was more on the edge than usual. It was going to be almost a year since he came to Arrakis. Fighting with Fremens put the spice production at risk and he couldn’t have that. ‘’I am looking for someone.’’ He began, Fremens knew by now that he was looking for a girl, old Fremens believed that it was a part of a prophecy long forgotten, most of the young ones thought it was a Benne Gesserit tactic to control them.

‘’Eyes up!’’ he yelled, and they looked up to meet his vicious gaze, at the corner one of the girls looked up and immediately lowered her gaze. ‘’You!’’ he pointed to the girl, ‘’Bring her to me.’’ He ordered and two of his men dragged her to him. His pale hand held her face to look deeply but it was false alarm, it wasn’t her. ‘’Why did she move her eyes though?’’ he thought. She seemed like she was holding something… information? Maybe.

‘’It seems like you know me.’’ He said quietly, ‘’I don’t know you.’’ He northerner accent filled his ears. Her voice was shaking and her fear gave it away, ‘’Ohh,’’ Feyd-Rautha loved to see fear in people’s eyes. ‘’You and I, we’re going to have a talk.’’ He moved his head slightly to the left and his men took the girl to a questioning room. Others moved in their places with an uneasy manner.

Feyd didn’t want to waste no time so he followed his men to the room. Inside the castle was kept at a mild temperature, outside was hell. He never thought he could get used to the heat but he adapted.

Feyd watched his men chain the girl to a metal chair and also watched the scared girl observe the room. Brown walls and floors were covered in blood, there were human parts here and there. ‘’What are you going to do to me?’’ she asked trying to stay calm. He wasn’t in the mood for torture since he just came from a battle, ‘’Nothing if you aid and abet. You might even have a luxurious life for your family in the city.’’ Rich Fremens lived in the city. He was actually being honest, she could tell. ‘’Tell me what do you know.’’ If one looked closer it could be seen that he was tired, after all he was human and human beings had their limits. ‘’Promise you won’t hurt her.’’

With the mention of you, his posture got straighter, ‘’I don’t intend to.’’

‘’And promise you let those women go to their homes.’’ Feyd felt generous today, ‘’Set them free.’’ He ordered which shocked his men, ‘’But my Na-Baron,’’ his solider’s sentence cut short since Feyd cut his throat. ‘’You heard me.’’ He warned his other soldiers. ‘’Now,’’ he looked at her, ‘’your turn.’’

The girl seemed cautious. ‘’I… I think I know who you’re looking for.’’ She started, ‘’I have a friend, since childhood. She keeps telling me her dreams of a man.. description fits you perfectly.’’ She finished as if an invisible burden lifted off of her shoulders. ‘’She is a respected soldier’s daughter, they live in a secluded cave, well guarded. It won’t be easy.’’ Feyd smiled in anticipation,

‘’I don’t want easy.’’

The girl gave the exact coordinates, as he was leaving he stopped in his tracks, ‘’What’s her name?’’

‘’Y/N.’’

He rested during the day, he wanted to attack to their Sietch when its late night. ‘’Y/N…’’ he whispered like praying to Gods. ‘’A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’’

The sietch was in deep desert but his men were perfectly prepared. He positioned his men at the exists and entrances of the sietch.

They blasted the stone walls which were doors, Fremen knew how to be one with the desert. Fremen were ambushed, they didn’t expect the attack but they were brave, sietch was big with multiple floors. Since Y/N was a well respected soldier’s daughter she must be upstairs with other higher ranks. He moved past everyone, climbing the stone stairs, screams were music to his ears. He pushed and kicked everyone who was on his way. Upstairs the rooms had thin green curtains that were see-through. He didn’t bother with crying children and their mothers, his one and only mission was to find Y/N and leave with her. As he was walking carefully on the long hall which had rooms on his left and right he felt a presence at his back. His blade crashed with another. The woman was in her stillsuit just like others, her face and hair covered with a dirty beige scarf, only eyes could be seen. ‘’Move out of my way girl and you will live.’’ When the girl heard his voice he noticed the hand she was holding the blade go soft for a split second but gained strength once again.

Feyd’s suit was specifically designed for him, head to toe he was dipped in jet black, a mask covering his face yet his eyes were there like dark diamonds. Shining with thirst. She didn’t say anything and made her move. She was passionate, it didn’t go unnoticed by him, maybe she had a thirst for blood just like him. Feyd stepped back and her crysknife licked the air. ‘’I gave you chance.’’ Feyd said before he launched at her, he was swift but the girl answered every stroke. ‘’You are good…’’ he was out of breath, her stance was weak, ‘’but not that good.’’ And they danced. Feyd made her trip, Fremen girl wasn’t even making a sound while attacking, she was like the desert, silent. Her moves made him think of swans, elegant yet bold. Feyd could feel that tonight he was going to satisfy his need for blood. 

Fremen girl threw sand to his face to get advantage because she was unstable, ‘’Unfair.’’ She heard him say. He rubbed his eyes and had to remove his mask. She saw him under the orange glowglobe, her knife dropped and ran to the opposite direction.

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t a stupid man. This action of hers gave her true identity. Like a predator he began the chase, it was thrilling. It wasn’t easy to spot her among Fremens who wear the same colored suits but it made the chase more fun. Something in him told him to go to the nearest exit and he did.

He had fewer men outside since most of the action was inside the sietch, the sand was covered in blood and his man laying stiff on the ground. One of his men lost his weapon, maybe she took it?

He closed his eyes to listen to the desert, he could hear swift motions, he followed where the sound coming from, there were large rocks to his left and he moved. Someone jumped at him behind the rocks, he fell to the ground, smell of spice made him a bit dizzy but he composed himself quickly. Two small hands grabbed his throat, sitting on top of him. She was screaming in ecstasy, maybe she never killed someone and she thought this was going to be her first. Feyd thought it was cute that she thinks she could kill him. With all of his strength he moved to his side dragging her along with him. Now she was laying on the ground, with one of his hand he pinned her hands above her head, he didn’t forget to give all of his weight to make her stay put, her legs wrapped around his waist. With his other hand he found his knife and cut her scarf. Her pure face revealed under Arrakis’s two glowing moons. His animalistic smile grew, ‘’Found you.’’ She was struggling to get away, like an animal trapped in a cage. ‘’Sleep tight.’’ And he injected a sedative, in seconds her shiny eyes closed.

Arrakis has woken up to a new day, a new era one might say. Na-Baron was energetic, he woke up to a letter from Reverend Mother; ‘’Now that you got what you came for it won’t be hard to continue.’’

It was a simple message for an ordinary man’s eyes yet Feyd-Rautha wasn’t an ordinary man. It meant that ‘’Bring stability by uniting his house with the Fremens.’’ Last night’s events showed that he needed much time to break her to his liking. He had so many questions to ask her…

After a really long time Feyd had a boyish excitement. He was having his breakfast eagerly in his bed chambers when his door knocked and his Mentat walked in. ‘’How is she?’’ he asked eating his beef. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is creating chaos. Unstable.’’ He chuckled, sucked the juice off of his thumb, ‘’Take me to her.’’

She was kept in a guest room, probably biggest room she had ever had the luxury of staying, his Mentat went in first and Na-Baron heard the immediate screams from her, he also heard some metal clinging and barged in. She was chained at the end of the room, her hands and neck. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ he yelled to his Mentat, ‘’Why is my bride chained to a wall?!’’ he could feel the rage in his veins. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is aggressive and killed a servant. We had no choice.’’

‘’Leave us.’’

When the door closed a thick silence occupied the room. She was standing in her stillsuit, hair a mess, and anger in her pretty eyes, eyes that were so familiar to him. He slowly approached, watched her move to the opposite direction, as he got close he could see the red marks on her wrists and neck. He came to a stop at a white line on the floor, his Mentat must have painted it.

‘’I’m not going to hurt you little dove.’’ His voice was calm which puzzled her, he was yelling at his Mentat seconds ago. His raspy tone which was inherited in his bloodline made her take a step back. ‘’Are you hungry?’’ she was shocked at his questioning. She only nodded, ‘’If you promise to not attack my servants they will bathe you and give you clean clothes, later you can have a fulfilling meal.’’ He tilted his head, his sharp jaw pointed like a blade, ‘’How does that sound?’’ Feyd could tell that she was tired and strangers made her uneasy, Fremens were a close-knit community, didn’t like strangers but they weren’t strangers, they haven’t been for a long time. Even though she didn’t let her guard down he could feel that she was less tense. ‘’I will be back.’’

After an hour or so Feyd was informed that she didn’t attack anyone, let the maids bathe her and dress her. Now she was eating, perfect timing.

Feyd-Rautha checked himself on the mirror, he had sleeveless black tunic and black pants, black boots. As usual. He left his chambers to visit her.

He opened the guest room door to see her eating, two maids waiting at her back. Y/N stopped eating when she saw her. She had a dark purple dress, showing her elegant shoulders, as he cautiously approached she smelled like a garden of roses, her hair brushed and braided. ‘’Leave us.’’ His eyes never leaving her. As the maids were leaving he didn’t forget to press the button on his chest, he had an invisible shield. Just in case.

‘’Please,’’ he said ‘’continue.’’ He sat next to her, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. In the menu there was red wine, cooked fish and fruit. ‘’I’ve chosen the menu for you, is it to your liking?’’ she took a sip from her wine to clean her throat, half of the fish was eaten already. ‘’What is this?’’ she pointed at the fish, this was the first time Feyd heard her in real life. He had a victorious smile which Y/N found it odd. ‘’Fish. Have you ever seen a live one before?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’They live in the sea, lakes, rivers…’’ he stood up to move close to the wall to wall window, ‘’Imagine this desert filled with water. In that water animals like fish lives.’’ He turned to see her reaction, her eyes shone interest, ‘’I’m going to take you to planets that have sea.’’ He was speaking more to himself.

‘’What do you want?’’ she asked harshly, ‘’I want you.’’

Fremens were up front about their thoughts and feelings but seeing an outsider being that way shocked her. ‘’We have the same dreams since childhood. Am I mistaken?’’ he had to be sure. She nodded, ‘’Don’t you think this is.. fate?’’ yes, she was having the same dreams of him, last night when she saw his face her body was in fight or flight and she choose flight. All she wanted to do right now get the knife from the table and jab it to his pale neck, she thought nothing was stopping her so slowly her left hand went to the table, Feyd’s back was turn but he had pointy ears. She jumped from her seat to his back, like a monkey but an invisible energy was pushing the knife from his neck. Feyd’s laughter echoed in the room and with one move he pulled her from his back and made her stand in front of him, holding her hands behind her back, now they were glued. This was the first time they were this close without war gear, he could feel her breasts pressing his chest, up close she noticed how smooth his arms were, and how masculine he was. ‘’I didn’t expect the least from you.’’ He said smiling, he was mad, that’s for sure. She lost her temper.

‘’You murdered my kin! You killed my family, my friends! I would rather die!’’ the fire in her eyes intrigued him. Her eyes were getting blurry, she was fighting to escape but his grip was strong.

‘’If they gave me the spice willingly none of this would happen.’’ He said with a serious tone, ‘’Let go of me!’’ she screamed, ‘’I would rather be eaten by Shai Hulud than be your bride!’’ she was crying now, her vision was blurry and Feyd let her go. Y/N’s tired arms which held bruises from last night hitting his chest, ‘’I have no one-‘’ she was having an attack, ‘’because of you-‘’ Feyd felt a lump in his throat, it was strange to him, he never thought he would feel sadness but here he was. He achieved everything he ever wanted but why did he have a bitter taste in his mouth?

She was shaking violently, Feyd held her, the reality of the situation hit her like a sand storm. People that she called family were gone by the hands of this man who was holding her so delicately…

These hands that were brushing her hair committed atrocities…

Months of hiding and fighting made her fall to her knees, she lost to the outsider.

‘’You have me now.’’ She heard the Na-Baron say, ‘’Shh,’’ she felt his plump lips on her hair, ‘’you have me little dove.’’ Her body gave in and she fainted.

‘’It was a seizure due to stress my Na-Baron.’’ Feyd-Rautha was by her side, she was sleeping, when Mentat left he found himself holding her hand and climbing to bed. ‘’What if this doesn’t work out?’’

The pressure of keeping his family name at its glory kicked in. Feyd lived his life to be the perfect Harkonnen, could he loose it all?

Reverend Mother was suppose to come to Arrakis in a few days to see Y/N and question her, they only had few days to get to know each other. What would happen if Reverend Mother didn’t see Y/N as a right match for their breeding program? But the dreams… element of fate.. it was too much for him. He let his body relax next to Y/N’s, still holding her hand he fell asleep.

Y/N felt a presence next to her and her eyes opened immediately. It was night, and a glowglobe lit the room dimly, the night was silent. To her left she saw him, sleeping peacefully, her hand in his, she wondered how could someone commit murder day and night and then sleep like this. No care in the world, she thought, how wrong she was.

At first she thought her dreams to be simple imagination of children, later in life the dreams grew frequent. In her dreams she kept seeing him holding her hand and leading her to new planets, the first person she told about these dreams was her father who took her to an old lady, after having a mélange session the old woman started to scream ‘’So it’s written!’’ there was an old prophecy long forgotten, a Fremen girl was going to marry an outsider which would bring stability. For years her people had fought, hid in the shadows, she never believed the prophecy and moved on but her father and her close friend and that old woman believed religiously. She turned to observe him. He looked so pure she didn’t want to believe that this man was the man she fought back at home. ‘’Like what you see?’’ his raspy voice had amusement. She didn’t move or said nothing. He opened her blue eyes, his hand gently went up to trace the outlines of her face, ‘’Give me a chance to introduce myself.’’ And he kissed her hand, together they fallen asleep again.

The next morning they had breakfast in silence, ‘’I want to show you something today.’’ He announced and he took her to the garden inside the castle. Years ago his ancestors built a garden inside that well kept and full of flowers from different planets. Y/N had never seen these before, she read about plants because she was interested in them but seeing them in real life was something else. She found herself smelling every flower, Feyd noticed the huge smile on her face, they sat among the flowers, neither of them dared to utter a word. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, she was in awe of this place and Feyd was in awe of her. She looked divine in her orange dress, she looked positively care free.

All day they didn’t speak a word to each other, Feyd gave some orders, other than that he intend to keep the silence. In silence there was no rejection, no fighting. They had dinner together, and he watched her take off her clothes wear her night gown and lay on the bed. They were in his bed chambers so he also changed and went to bed. There was a space between them which Feyd didn’t like. He was discovering new things about himself such as desire to have physical contact. Her back was turned to him, he came close and hugged her from behind, she didn’t move.

The days that followed were the same. Slowly Feyd started to give her information about his life here and there, she listened intently but her heart was with the desert. So many times Feyd caught her staring out the window, Y/N also made comments to things he said or shared memories of her past. She had to make a decision but she wasn’t in hurry since the Harkonnen’s and Fremens stopped fighting since she was captured. That night she felt the cold side of the bed and woke up, Feyd was gone, yes they slept in the same bed for days but nothing happened. She rose to her feet and fell on her knees, the castle was under attack. Sirens could be heard everywhere. Out the window she saw Fremens attack the castle, she found a knife from Feyd’s closet and left the room. The halls were packed with Harkonnen soldiers, marching outside to meet the attack and they had heavy machines, also their numbers higher than Fremens. She had to find him and put an end to this.

Bare foot she was running, they all seemed the same, pale skin and black suits. When Y/N saw his Mentat she ran to him, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she yelled, it was chaos, chaose everywhere. ‘’My lady you shouldn’t be outside.’’ She didn’t care, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she demanded. ‘’At the entrance, greeting the Fremens.’’ And she ran. Mentat was right he was fighting and killing her kin, he was a skilled killing machine.  ‘’FEYD!’’ she screamed at the top of her lungs. Fremens that knew her stopped in their tracks, shocked to see her in a luxurious night gown, they were here to collect her. ‘’FEYD!’’ the Fremen he was fighting stopped when he saw her and it made Feyd stop too, among dust and falling men he turned to face her. He was covered in blood, holding knives in both of his hands, he slashed open the Fremen’s throat and walked to her. She could feel her blood run cold.

‘’How could you?!’’ she attacked, Feyd immediately held her hand that was holding the knife, her knife dropped.

‘’Mary me!’’ he screamed, ‘’Mary me and I’ll stop the war.’’

Y/N looked around, watching her people fall to the sand and lose it was too much to bear, it was high time someone put an end to this and if it was her then she had to fulfill her destiny.

She said nothing but held his face and kissed his plump lips.

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #dune 2 #dune part 2 #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #austin butler #harkonnen #requests are open #request #requests open #reqs open #send requests #writing requests #feyd rautha harkonnen #house harkonnen #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine

[hanafubukki]

Hanaaa i have a hopefully fun question for you if you want to indulge? ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝´ ˘ `⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

how would you say the Disasomnia boys kiss? or even where do they enjoy kissing you most! ♡ hehe

Hello Gray 🌺🌻💞

When I saw this ask, I was so excited because I wanted to write more intimate/suggestive moments this year. 👏👏

But I also blue screened hahah Error 404. 😂😂

But I’m going to test my waters a bit and see how this goes:

Lilia Vanrouge:

He has lived centuries and traveled. He is the curious type, so it’s safe to say he’s not new to kissing. He has experience when it comes to intimacy of all kinds.

Initially, he would test the waters with his love. He, gradually and sometimes spontaneously, kisses you.

His kisses always left you breathless, even more so when he had a certain look in his eyes. His eyes speak of hunger and desire.

Don’t worry, precious, you’ll enjoy every moment while he partakes in his desire of you. His favorite place to kiss is where your heart is.

Normally, it would be your neck. After all, he can show everyone who you belong to.

But your heart? Your heart is his. Hearing the sounds as it beats for him calls to him. What a precious lullaby.

For him and him alone. He especially adores the way it beats when he’s with you. It’s all too telling how much you adore him. It’s okay love, his beats just as strong for you.

Malleus Draconia-Vanrouge:

He has lived for so long in terms of human years. He knows about intimacy and has even read it.

But he hasn’t experienced it before. With you, everything is new. He’s going to explore these moments with you. He’s all too willing to learn, especially with his lover.

But careful dear one, dragons are possessive. Once his hunger for you awakens, he’s going to be insatiable.

His kisses will consist of nips with teeth and with his tongue curling around yours. Leaving you gasping.

His favorite place to kiss would be your forehead, especially when you’re tucked into his arms. Here is where you belong and knowing you chose him above everyone else? How can he not love you?

His Future Queen.

His.

Silver Vanrouge:

Sweet dearest Silver would court you. He has learned how to court from his father, so expect something slow, in the beginning at least.

He would follow your pace and what you’re comfortable with. If you asked him for a kiss, he would gladly give it to you.

But careful, he’s the type to be passionate and once you open this pandora’s box, let it be known that never have you not needed to hold onto him for support.

He would wonder why he waited so long to kiss you and now he can’t get enough. So expect a kiss from him in the morning and at night at the very least.

His favorite spot to kiss is your hands. As a knight, he treats you as if you were nobility. You have his highest regard. But sometimes, you can’t help the shiver that runs through you as he nips at your wrist. His eyes conveying he wants so much more.

Sebek Zigvolt:

He has always been a loud one, hasn’t he? But with you? He’s quiet and tender. Not always, and surely not in the beginning, his passionate persona and determination would sometimes be difficult to handle.

But your patience with him and your comments would always be noted. He appreciates you. He knows how he can be given what others and especially Silver say.

So he takes his time with you. As you learn about him, he learns everything about you. Always the dutiful studious types.

He especially pays attention to what kinds of kisses you like, especially the ones that leave you asking him for more. The urge to consume you wholly is always there. He hungers for you and only you can satisfy it.

He loves marking you, but let it be known, that his favorite place to kiss is your eyelids and around that area. Because you have always seen him, haven’t you? When others didn’t and when he himself couldn’t, you have. With your eyes on him, he can hold himself proudly always.

I didn’t realize how long this became 😂🫶💞

Though this became more of a dating/kissing/favorite places combo didn’t it? 🤔😂 But I like how it turned out nonetheless. 💞💞

I had a couple ideas for each but chose these. ☺️💞🫶

#answered #🌺gray🌺 #posting this while asleep so I don’t keep editing this #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst silver x reader #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #silver vanrouge x reader #silver vanrouge #x reader #x you #twst drabble #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst

[marxo-fm]

Take me to Church

✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist

Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.

A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!

—

The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.

You memorized their names.

There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.

Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.

Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.

You’d get scolded by your Christian parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.

You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.

“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can’t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.

You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”

He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.

You chopped it.

“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.

It’s John.

“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.

“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.

“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.

“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”

John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.

A spark.

“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.

Forgive me for my sins.

You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.

—

“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.

How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.

Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.

You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.

You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.

But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.

It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.

You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.

Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.

You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.

You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.

You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.

You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.

—

The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.

You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.

He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.

"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."

A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.

"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."

You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.

"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.

John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.

--

"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.

"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."

"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."

You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.

"Damnit,"

"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.

"Nothin', now come on outside."

--

"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.

You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.

"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.

"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."

You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.

"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."

"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.

--

You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.

He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.

But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.

You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.

You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.

But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.

Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.

It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.

There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.

You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.

So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.

You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.

He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.

'Just like that.'

'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."

"Attagirl, in and out."

And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.

Finally, finally, finally.

Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.

At that moment, you wanted to scream.

To run away.

To die.

He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.

You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.

A sinful girl.

"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"

"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."

You lied.

Another sin.

He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.

He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.

"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.

"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."

Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.

"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.

"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.

"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."

"Go on."

"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"

You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?

You almost can't believe it.

He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.

You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his abs were the definition of perfect.

He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.

"S'fuckin' wet."

It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.

He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.

His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.

He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.

Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.

His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.

"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."

He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.

"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.

You swore you saw Heaven.

Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.

John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.

You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.

"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.

"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.

He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.

"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.

"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.

"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.

"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"

It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.

He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.

Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.

"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.

That was a sight for sore eyes.

He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.

How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.

He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.

Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?

He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.

He stops, and you stop holding your breath.

"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"

"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."

He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.

"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.

The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.

"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.

He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.

Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.

"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.

"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.

"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."

Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.

He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.

He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.

John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.

"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.

"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."

Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.

It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.

--

A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.

This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…

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