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#and bound him to the fuckin skin book
chyarui · 14 days
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Hear me out, Gerry has tattoos of eyes on EVERY JOINT in his body…
The spine is just a massive ladder of joints…
And 2 + 2 is 4 so…
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smh-yoon · 1 year
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akatsuki - fucking you dumb
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a/n: if you didn't know, i have an akatsuki bf/gf scenario book on wattpad and i was writing something for pein today that got a little spicy, so i had to bring it here. this will include all nine members, not including orochimaru.
pairings: pein, konan, hidan, kakuzu, deidara, sasori, obito, kisame, itachi x fem! reader
genre: smut; fem! on fem!, male! on fem!
warnings: dirty dirty talk!! (praise and degrading), swearing, creampie, fingering, giving head - male and fem receiving, exhibitionism, threesome, possessiveness, choking, toxic behavior (obito), tentacles, spitting, manhandling?, pool sex ofc
enjoy ;)
PEIN
the cold wood of the desk brushed against your nipples with every thrust of pein's hard cock into your cunt, adding to the buildup of your approaching orgasm.
he had your hands locked behind your back, using them to tug you backwards onto his leaking dick as he threw his head back. the best part about him being such a skilled shinobi is that he had plenty of stamina.
slick was dripping down your thighs, and he'd already fucked you through your first orgasm. his fingers were pressing hard against your skin where he was gripping you, jaw clenching as he felt his own climax approach.
suddenly he was pressing you down against the desk, arching your back with one hand and setting an all new pace as he drilled into you. in moments, you were gushing around him, nearly screaming as he brushed you g-spot until he was pumping his load into you, cum dripping down your shaking thighs.
KONAN
konan's bare breasts were pressed against your back, nipples hard against your skin as she fingered you from behind.
she was determined to make you squirt for the third time today, tears already dripping down your cheeks as you jerked from the sensitivity of your aching cunt. you couldn't help arching into her hand, desperately seeking your orgasm.
the sheets under you were soaked in your cum, and konan's fingers were sticky with your slick from fingering you non stop. her other hand reached around your stomach as she began thrusting her fingers faster.
the other hand flicked at your clit, circling and pressing hard as you sobbed in pleasure. you came again, crying out as the intense sensation made you eyes roll back.
HIDAN
hidan's obnoxious laugh made you want to cry, choking on kakuzu's cock in your mouth and he fucked you harder from behind. he was so sure you were into kakuzu enough that he invited him into a threesome, not the kakuzu minded.
his fingers threaded through your hair, the tugging making your eyes rolling back as you swallowed around his thick cock. "just like that slut. couldn't live with just one cock fuckin' you, huh? had to have two."
your jaw went slack as hidan kept up his bruising pace, paying no mind to the increasing volume of the hums you could get out around kakuzu. hidan's voice reached your ears in the haze of the moment.
"gonna cum in you, then watch kuzu fuck my cum back into your cunt. show him how good you take it whore."
KAKUZU
kakuzu was still counting money in the corner of the room, paying no mind to you as you writhed on the bed, bound by long tendrils stretching from his form. two skinnier ones alternated thrusting into your pussy, another flicking your clit.
this was your punishment, for forgetting to pick up one of his bounties. no big deal, he could always get some other quick cash, but there was no way he was letting you off easy.
"kakuzu.. please!" you were so close to the edge it hurt, but he never let you cum. not for the past half hour you'd been tied with your hands above your head.
his eyes flicked lazily to you, gaze dark as a smirk slid onto his face. with a chuckled he sent another tendril your way, watching it slide around your neck.
"shut up, i have to restart now."
DEIDARA
long blonde hair brushed against your shoulders as your eyes rolled back, deidara's hand on your shoulder holding you up as he pushed his cock past your walls.
he'd made a bet with hidan that he could fuck you till you cried, and he was sure to deliver. you were in tears after the first orgasm, after he ate your pussy out the way he knew best. and another bet later, now he was determined to fuck you till he couldn't cum anymore.
hidan was sitting directly in front of you at the edge of bed in his own chair, cock pulled out of his pants, leaking from the tip. he'd been barking orders all night, telling deidara where to touch, cum, how to fuck you and your mouth properly. if you didn't hate hidan so much, you might've thanked him for the advice, because you were getting your brains fucked out.
he stood from his spot, coming close and grabbing your jaw roughly, watching you gaze up at him through hazy eyes. then he was spitting into your open mouth, watching you flinch and moan and deidara fucked you faster as he sat back down and enjoyed the show.
SASORI
sasori was quick to attach as many strings as he wanted to your limbs, controlling you just the way he wanted, his own personal fuck doll. he'd watched you finger yourself, fuck yourself with whichever synthetic cock he chose, and now he was watching you choke down his own.
he had all the power, and he knew it got you off too. never having to worry that pretty, empty head about having to do any work. he might as well keep you with his other puppets, if that's all you were good for.
a groan left his mouth as you choked around him, swallowing and moaning at the way he filled your throat.
when he looked back down at you, one of his puppets leaning against the wall caught his attention. his newest, and by far the biggest he'd built. he rung his fingers in your hair and pulled you off his cock, petting your face as you gasped for air.
"get up. we're doing something new."
OBITO
"what the fuck were you doing? huh? think you can run off to some other man?"
you were sobbing into the pillows, back aching as obito pounded into you. it hurt, so so good. he was using you however he wanted, you were his stress relief, but that didn't mean you could get away with whoring yourself out to the akatsuki. not that you actually did, he was just a jealous freak when it came to you.
he reached around your shoulders and leaned down, sweaty chest pressed against your back as he got close to your ear, nearly growling as he spoke.
"you remember no one will ever fuck you like this. you're fucking mine."
KISAME
one of kisame's ultimate fantasies was to let him hunt you down in the water, a predator-prey type situation. you always worried he'd take it too far, maybe hurt you, accidentally drown you. as his thick cock slid into your pussy for the first time that night, warm water lapping at your skin, his hands holding you tight against him, you couldn't help but wonder why you waited so long.
while he'd pulled you to a quiet shore of a hidden cove, you were worried you were still too loud, that the world would hear.
kisame's shark teeth grazed your shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath against your skin, feeling your nails dig into his back. the feeling of his razor sharp teeth made you nearly freeze with terror, but you tightened around him as your body tingled.
"hope you can handle a little blood."
ITACHI
as much as you wanted itachi to trap you in an endless sex fantasy with a genjutsu, he was a much more gentle lover. not that you minded, he always made sure your needs were more than fulfilled.
he was taking his time lapping up your pussy, sucking and kissed and tonguing wherever he could reach. he lived for the feeling of your hips bucking into his mouth, fingers gripping his hair from the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.
he knew you so well, listened to your breathing and the volume of your moans, hearing them get more high pitched as you neared your orgasm.
"come on pretty girl, let me take care of you."
<3 <3 <3
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brighttears · 1 year
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Bask
Joel xreader
No physical description, gender natural, no use of y/n
Summary: You teach Joel how to enjoy the rain. When Ellie joins you, it’s picture perfect.
Word count: 914
Warnings: non just sickeningly wholesome
A/n: keeping my streak of posting every day because i am insane
It hadn’t rained in a while. To Joel, the rain was an annoyance, a pain in the ass, and Ellie hated it, dripping from the ceiling seemingly wherever she happened to be. You, on the other hand, were thrilled. It was dusk when the rains started dropping and it took awhile to figure out what you could do to keep warm, dry, and safe in the decaying house you had decided to spend the night in. And while yes, it was decaying, you’re lucky you had decided to walk the couple extra miles instead of staying outside that night. You rushed through helping Ellie and Joel secure the house from the storm, the minute you were all satisfied, walking straight through the living room—where your sleeping bags were set out, Ellie laying on her back reading her book of puns, and Joel cleaning his rifle—into the kitchen to the back door.
Joel caught you. “Where're you goin’?”
“Outside.”
“Outside, why?”
“To run around in the rain.”
“To run around in the rain?”
“Yes, to run around in the rain. Wanna join me?”
Joel’s face was twisted in utter bewilderment. “No.”
“Okay.” you shrug, smiling, and turn back to head outside.
“You shouldn’t go out there.” Joel cautioned.
“Why not?”
“You’ll catch a cold.”
“Well if I do, I won’t complain about it and I’ll let you say ‘I told ya so.’ Also, it’s the middle of summer, Joel.”
“Well, still, it’s gett’n dark out.”
“I won’t be out for long, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”
“Well I’m gonna fuckin’ worry. You shouldn’t be there alone, in the dark, in pourin’ fuckin’ rain."
“Then come with me.”
“No, I—“
“Fuck, Joel, I haven’t been able to do this in so long. I’ll be out there for ten minutes. I will be fine.” Before Joel can say another word you’re out into the backyard, the screened backdoor banging twice behind you.
This is summer rain, warm with thick air. You breathe it in as soon as it hits your lungs and a smile runs out of you. You have to stop yourself from squealing in delight as you begin to bounce and dance through the tall, weedy backyard grass being showered in rain.
It’s wildly rejuvenating. You appreciate every second, taking in every drop on your skin, the feeling of mud and drowning grass in between your toes, the sound of raindrops on the leaves of the trees above you.
After a while you hear the backdoor slam twice. You figured it must be Ellie, but it’s Joel who’s standing awkwardly just outside the door. The idea of sharing this with Joel makes you almost giddy. You bound over and reach your hands out for his, he lifts them up with little enthusiasm but follows you as you pull him out. He can’t help a smile when he sees you beaming.
In the music of the rainstorm you guide Joel along to dance and jump with you. He’s acting like you pulled him out there, pride ruining his own fun, but if you keep it up for long enough, he’ll break. It doesn't take him that long to give in and start moving to your tempo. As you go, Joel pulls out some real dance moves, pushing and pulling you to his left and right, raising his hand up to twirl you. You’re giggling and he’s smiling wider than you’ve ever seen.
The sun has set but there's still enough light out to be able to see, everything shaded gray and blue.
The only sound from you both is laughing, but he catches the ‘told you so’ in your eyes.
You spin and spin in each other’s arms.
Joel feels the rain melting away the dirt and grime and blood that covers him, washing away his coarseness, smoothing his skin, the slick rain on your hands polish each other’s. He’s barely aware of where he is, relying on your direction, so all he has to focus on is you, how he can feel your laugh when he bumps you into him, how the water spins off your hair as you do.
These moments in the dusk, washed clean and pure, never letting go of you, it overwhelms him. As the heavens part, you’re in front of him, and you’ve never been more beautiful than you are now, soaking wet, smiling like it's 2003, your hands never leaving his. And so it overtakes him, and he slips an arm around your waist to pull you in and kiss you. It’s wet and warm and pure.
You’ve slowed to stillness and brought your hands up to his neck and face to steady yourself and kiss him deeper. With your eyes closed, all there is the rush of the rain in your ears, his lips, and your bodies, summer warm, pressed against each other. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but eventually, he pulls away, hands holding your face, and you open your eyes to each other.
The backdoor bangs twice and here comes Ellie, beaming like she does as she bounds over. You throw your hands up in excitement and take her hand in yours and the other in Joels and you three spin together in the drowning grass, heavy rain and thick air.
And you’re getting away with it, the blind joy, with having fun, being alive, living, being a family, dancing in your backyard in a warm summer rainstorm.
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lilacevans · 1 year
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oooh this is intriguing 👀
can we try a “you know I can’t say no to you” with your dear hybrid steve rogers? 💜
btw I love this au of yours lila it’s soso cool
hybrid!steve rogers x fledgling!reader warnings: blood consumption, frottage, daddy kink wc: 537 ♡⁀➷ lila's sunday night blurbs
''M'hungry,'' You complain as you plop yourself at Steve's feet, melodramatically draping your arm across his lap and squishing your cheek against his thigh.
Steve's eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you, a small sigh drooping his shoulder as he raises a brow, pulling his attention from the thick, leather bound book in his hands.
''You ate an hour ago, sugar,'' He points out, not getting a chance to say another word as you cut him off by scoffing and sitting back on your calves.
''But I'm still hungry,'' You petulantly whine, puppy eyes on full display as your bottom lip sticks out. ''Lloyd said I could feed from him, but he clearly forgot because he's still out and I'm hungry.''
''Blood bags in the fridge,'' Steve redirects, gesturing to the door and returning to his book; tongue darting out to the pad of his finger and swiping the page over. ''I could just feed from-''
''No,'' Steve cuts in, still keeping his eyes on his book. ''You know the rules. You know you can't feed from me.''
''It's such a stupid rule,'' You complain, hands coming up to rub the sides of his thighs. ''It won't even affect me.''
''It affects everyone. There's-''
''Too much power. I could end up spiraling, I know.''
''So if you know, why are you even asking?'' Steve sighs. ''I won't be the reason you ditch and rip your way through the city,'' Steve says firmly, making you drop your gaze.
''I promise I won't,'' You attempt one last time. ''You said you've never seen a fledgling with control like me before. You said I was a natural- You all have. I can handle it. If I can't, I'll never ask again. Just a little taste. Steve, please.''
''Goddamn it,'' Steve curses and throws the book to the floor before popping the button on his sleeve and pushing it up his arm, presenting his wrist. ''You know I can't say no to you. Ari's gonna kill me.''
''Thank God that you're already dead,'' You grin. ''And no, you can't, but you gave it a good try.''
Ignoring his presented wrist, you climb onto his lap, throwing him a sly glance before he caves and presents his neck, hands sliding slowly from your thighs to your waist; fingers gripping tightly when he feels your fangs pierce his skin. Warmth floods your mouth, slipping easily down your throat. Steve tastes of everything sweet; summertime candies, vanilla, cherries, and strawberries. It floods your veins as your fingers tangle in his hair. If this is what power tastes like then people are too right when they say power is sweet. Steve's fingers grip your waist; rocking you down on his hard cock which knocks you awake from the intoxicating taste of him.
''See what you fuckin' did, sugar?'' Steve groans into your ear, a double set of fangs on display as his head lulls back. ''You gotta stop, sugar. Gotta fix what you caused, baby.''
''M'gonna fix it, daddy,'' You reply after detaching yourself from his neck and slipping down his body, returning to your previous spot at his feet and sliding your hands up his tights, reaching for the button of his pants.
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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in honor of 4/20 i literally need a blurb of argyle rolling a blunt on reader’s ass
Your wish is my command 💚
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), drug use (weed obv), use of pet names
WC: 1k
The warm April air flutters through the bedroom as you sit on your bed, reading a book. California winters are never particularly harsh, but you still soak up the spring breeze, the scent of blooming flowers permeating the atmosphere. You hear the low squeak of the front door opening as your boyfriend comes in from work.
You rest your book on the nightstand, bounding over to him with an excited grin. He’s dubbed today “Stoner Christmas,” promising the best batch of Purple Palm Tree Delight that money could buy. So it’s safe to say that you’re caught off-guard when you catch the frown on his normally relaxed face.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask, tucking his long hair behind his ear and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Did you not get it?”
“Nah, I got it,” Argyle says with a small smile, pulling the baggie of bud from his pants pocket. “Just had a rough day at work. Apparently, not everyone got the memo to be chill on this holiest day.”
You grab his big hand and lace your fingers with his. “Wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head but speaks anyway. “Had a guy come in and scream in my face because we didn’t have his order. Swore up and down that he called it in, talked to someone named Pete. I was like, ‘dude, there is no one here named Pete!’ but he wouldn’t hear it. He was, like, fuckin’ frothing at the mouth, man!”
“So what happened?”
“Get this,” he chuckles incredulously. “The whole time, he had the wrong Surfer Boy. There’s another one fifteen minutes from ours, and that’s where he placed his order.” 
You grab onto his bright yellow work shirt, tugging him closer to you until his chest touches yours. “Is there anything I can do to help you…unwind?” You keep your tone salacious as you kiss him, parting his lips with your tongue. His tension dissipates at your touch, letting go of your hand to wrap his muscular arms around your waist.
“Was thinkin’,” Argyle mumbles against your mouth, “maybe I could borrow that sexy ass of yours to roll a blunt?” His cock twitches as the thought of you naked, and as soon as you nod, he’s lifting you and bringing you to the bedroom. 
His lithe fingers lift your sundress above your head, leaving you in just your panties. “No bra?” he muses, smiling as he brings his lips to your nipples and sucking lightly. “This day’s better already, baby.” He toys with the waistband of your lace thong before helping you step out of it, tossing it to the side. 
“Lay down f’me,” he says, punctuating his request with a soft smack to your ass. 
You do as he says, stomach to the sheets as you hear him fumbling with his grinder. You wiggle your ass suggestively until you catch his attention, giggling when he squeezes it.
“Patience, princesa,” Argyle orders, but there’s no malice behind it. “Gonna roll now, so you gotta stay still.” He places the thin paper atop your skin, and you feel the light weight of the flower lining its edge. “Just wanna take a bite of you…” He holds the unrolled blunt steady as his teeth sink into the plush in front of him, making you yelp. “Okay, back to business.”
His fingertips tickle you as he curls the paper inwards, rolling it with utmost precision. The only other thing he attends to with this much intent is your body. He brings it to your mouth with a knowing smirk. “Lick it.”
“This?” you ask with feigned confusion, pointing to the blunt, “or this.” You cup his prominent bulge through his pants, making him hiss at the content.
“Th-the joint first,” he manages, “and then we can find other ways to keep that pretty mouth busy.” 
Your tongue glides along the paper and he seals it, gingerly laying it on the nightstand next to the book you were reading. “We gotta wait for it to dry,” Argyle muses, eyes seemingly glued to your naked body. “Got any ideas to pass the time?”
You turn around so your lips can attach to his, and you’re practically ripping off his clothes. His pointer and middle fingers slip inside your already wet pussy as he pumps them, relishing in the noises the motion makes. “Already soaked for me, hm?” he growls, sucking on your neck. 
“A-All for you,” you whimper, feeling your walls clench around his digits before he withdraws them. “Why—”
“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t need to say anything else, just stroking himself languidly using your slick as lube while you get into position. His hard cock stretches you deliciously, and you both moan at the contact. 
You feel him get deeper with each thrust, and all you can do is cry out his name. 
“Thas’ right, take it like the good girl you are. Love watching your ass while I fuck you.”
“Argyle, shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” you pant, “c-can you spank me again?”
“Anything for my girl.” You can’t see his face, but you know he’s smiling as his palm meets the flesh of your ass. He quickens the snap of his hips when you groan out. “Fuck, g-gonna cum, too. Cum with me, princesa.”
He grips your hips and ruts up into you, and you finish around his cock while he fills you with his own release. Slowing his tempo, he reluctantly withdraws, his spend trickling down your inner thigh. 
“You think it’s good?” you ask as he cleans you off. 
“Huh?”
“The joint,” you remind him, gesturing towards its spot on the bedside table. “Can we smoke it now?”
“Oh, shit,” Argyle laughs, kissing your forehead. “You felt so fuckin’ perfect that I totally forgot.”
You cock your brow in disbelief. “You forgot about weed on 4/20?”
“That’s the power you have over me.” His dark eyes twinkle as he hands you the blunt and the lighter. “Ladies first.”
It’s safe to say that he insists on rolling his blunts on your ass whenever he’s given the chance. 
--
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jamesunderwater · 10 months
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Word Search Game!
I was tagged by many of my lovely friends, so I decided to compile them all in one post. I wasn't able to find them all, but did my best. some of them are from published dtm snippets, which I noted, but everything else is from a WIP. thank you for the tags!! this was really fun.
@practicecourts Beach, office, wisecrack, dead, and bonus: proposition @kay-elle-cee grin, soft, heart, pain @uncertainwallflower quiet, reach, light, back @athenasparrow whisper, smirk, wall, lick
tagging: @deermessrs @basslineescapeact @mvnvgedmischief with the words ghost, bite/bit, groan, long
my answers below the cut cause this shit got long <333
Office (dead to me, published)
“All I’m saying is, we’ve been talking about breaking into McGonagall’s office all year and I’m a little disappointed that we’d waste this hallmark of our careers on-”
Dead (dead to me, unpublished)
“Nothing,” he deadpanned, because he didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t want to be acting this way at all, in fact wanted to be acting the opposite, but something in his body was shaking with anger and he didn’t know where to put it.
Proposition (dead to me, published)
“We could go work on it in the library instead, if you’d like? Or in the common room, if it’s not too crowded.” She looked back up at him, trying to gauge his intentions. Was he propositioning her, offering to be alone again so they could pick up where they left off? And if he was…did she mind?  Of course she minded. His whole nice boy routine was nauseating. If he wanted to fuck her again, he could just say so. 
Grin ("sad fic" or Is it Me for You?)
James came out and slammed the door in excitement, his grin wide at the sight of them. “STAG PARTY!!!!!” He bellowed as way of introduction. The four of them screamed back, arms up, “STAG PARTY!!!!!” and for a single moment Sirius thought maybe this could feel normal, after all. 
Soft ("country roads fic")
I found out they were like me. Unwanted just because of who they were. I looked at Reggie, just fifteen, with the softest skin I’d ever seen, innocent eyes, eyes that were just asking for somebody to love him. And I felt all the rage I never could quite feel for myself—because what kind of monsters sent this kid out in the cold? Just because they’d gotten it wrong? Just because he told them the truth of who he was?  “Fuck them all,” I said to the sky. Sirius nodded beside me. “Fuck them all. We don’t need ‘em.” “Never did,” I agreed.
Heart ("country roads fic")
Fuck you! Turning on my heel, sharp and quick, kicking up dust as I bounded towards my mother, the cigarette smoke still sliding out of her lips. Fuck you, fuck Richard, fuck your stupid fuckin’ hair and your stupid fuckin’ nails and every fuckin’ thing about this place! I hope he has a heart attack while he’s mounting you and crushes you under his 250 pound lard of a body, how’s that for perverted? 
Pain (dead to me, unpublished)
He had to reach hard to grasp the knob, but as soon as he did there was an echo of voices: What do you think you’re doing?! They were frantic, a painful ringing in his ears; he heard the high tone of his mother, the gravel of Sirius, the low timber of his father.
Quiet (dead to me, unpublished)
His mother had been reading a book when he asked her—standing to the left of her favorite armchair, one of his small hands touching her arm. She took a very long time to answer him, so long that he patted her again. “Mum! Mum, can I have one?” He paused, then realized why she must have been quiet, “Can I have one, please?”
Reach (dead to me, unpublished)
He was toying with the snitch, letting it fly just out of reach before snatching it back again. Remus was reading his Herbology book, and Peter was flying around the pitch on James’s broom. The sun had just set, but they had the invisibility cloak to get them back into the castle unseen.
Light ("sad fic" or Is it Me for You?)
He tried to convince himself that this was him being normal. This was him saying, see? We can be friends. But in another light he knew he looked like a tryhard, just begging for a full conversation. Just one fucking conversation where Remus didn’t disappear in the middle of it.
Back (brand new secret smut fic)
After, James felt extremely grateful that no one had been looking. Because what had started as their lips pressed softly together turned into one of them stepping closer, neither of them pulling away, both of them placing a hand on the other’s side, someone opening their mouth just so, the other slipping a tongue across their lip… And then they’d pulled back, stunned, a bit of James’ drink having spilt on the floor, neither of them breaking eye contact for what felt like an hour. 
Whisper (dead to me, unpublished)
He’d heard her conversation with McGonagall, of course, the flimsy curtains in the hospital wing doing nothing to block their voices. But he’d intended to keep her secret, having seen the look on her face when McGonagall left, the way she stared with empty eyes at the floor. He’d seen what a private thing this was for her, so sitting around while his peers whispered about the news, he wanted to tell them to shove off.
Smirk (dead to me, unpublished)
“Honestly, I’m glad for it,” he went on, looking away. “She’s a stubborn arse. Good luck with that.” He managed a true and proper smirk, which Sirius latched onto. Rolling his eyes, the other boy sighed. “It’s gonna be a nightmare.” 
Wall ("sad fic" or Is it Me for You?)
When he thought of Remus Lupin in a suit, in a room full of promises of forever, Sirius Black wanted to punch a wall.
Lick (brand new secret smut fic)
James did not know how anyone would say no to blank wordlessly requesting to take off their top, so he lifted his arms, and suddenly the jumper was gone, the cold air licking his chest. “Fuck,” blank whispered, running a hand up James’ chest, and James’ trousers had been tight before, but they were positively bursting at the seams now.
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luminnara · 3 years
Text
It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 8 NSFW 18+ ONLY
Summary:  When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!
Part One | .... | Part Nine
Warnings: A/b/o, knotting, nsfw, sexy stuff, some weight related talk
Tags:  @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @ bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar @sukeraa @momc95 @book-lover-2006 @rebekkah119 @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker
“I never got the chance to do this back in the day, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky grunted. 
“Mhm. You were always more the…’turn around, I’m mounting you here and now’ type.”
“Can’t imagine why.” He mumbled. 
Bucky was on his back, his wrists tied to the bedposts. It was something he would consider a compromising position, all of his decades of training and his own instincts telling him that he was too exposed and therefore in danger. 
He trusted her, though, and because of that, he liked it. There was something sexy about being bound with your own leather belt, especially when a cute little omega was the one doing the tying. 
“The big, scary Winter Soldier, on his back? For me?” Amoretta teased, as if she hadn't been the one who put him there. 
“Don’t get used to it,” he growled. 
“Unless you decide you love it,” She purred, ghosting a hand over his abs. 
He tensed and then flexed. “I love anything involving you, doll.”
She let out a light, twinkling laugh. “Flexing? You’re such a show off. You don’t have to prove how tough you are to me, I already know.”
“Can’t help it.” He growled again.
She hummed quietly, sliding her hand up to his chest. “You’re just a big teddy bear.”
“I’m not a bear,” Bucky huffed, looking at her incredulously, as if the thought was absolutely ridiculous. 
“No?” Amoretta asked. “Then what are you? A big pussycat?”
“The Wakandans call me White Wolf.”
“A wolf, huh? Nonna always used to say you can never tame a wolf.” She laid on his chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think I want to, though. I want you wild and free.”
“...you flipped me over and tried to hogtie me.”
“Well...yeah. But I wanna try being on top!”
Her little whine was just too cute for him to argue with.
“Then why don’t you get up and fuckin’ ride me?” He snapped, trying to encourage her to actually get a move on.
“Because I want to make you wait,” Amoretta purred, stretching up to nip at his earlobe while one of her hands drifted down his stomach. “I’ve never gotten to be with you when you aren’t all rut-crazy. I want to play with you…”
“Then do it faster!” He let his head fall back onto the pillows with a frustrated groan as her fingers brushed over his pelvis. 
He was hard again, and all he wanted to do was bury himself inside of her and knot her again and again and again. He ached for her, impatient, breathy huffs and growls leaving his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. She was a tease. Of course she was a fucking tease. At the rate things were going, she would be able to get him to do absolutely anything by the time the night was over, as long as it meant that he could feel the way her pussy milked his cock.
“The more impatient you are, the slower I’ll go,” she cooed, ghosting her nails around the base of his shaft. 
Bucky snorted angrily, picking his head up again to look at her. “At least use your mouth. I’m dyin’ here.”
“Hey, I’m in charge right now,” she reminded him. 
She slid down the bed anyways. 
There was already a big bead of precum on the tip of his cock, and when she swept her tongue over it, he let out the loudest, deepest, filthiest moan she had ever heard. The sound had her pressing her thighs together, desperately trying to ignore the slick that was pooling onto the sheets beneath her as she gave him another taste. She wanted to be in charge for once, and at the moment, that meant trying to control her own urges while she teased her alpha. 
His groans and growls were reverberating through his whole body as she wrapped her lips around his cock. He wanted to grab her hair and guide her head, but every time he tried to move, he was reminded that his wrists were bound and he had nowhere to go.
It was frustrating. 
“Fuck,” he moaned, defeated. “Take it all...c’mon, doll, please…I know you can…”
His encouragement made her hum happily as her head bobbed up and down. Each time, she took more and more of him into her throat, until her nose was pressing against his pelvis and drool was running down her chin. 
Bucky was trying his hardest to stay still. He wanted to enjoy the moment, not fuck it up, but god, did he want to absolutely rail her throat. With his hands literally tied, though, all he could do was try to roll his hips up towards her, desperately trying to thrust in and out of her mouth and maintain some semblance of control. 
Amoretta was taking it in stride, relaxing her throat and holding onto his thighs to steady herself. Her tongue was slipping around his cock, her spit dripping down onto his balls as he let out a symphony of dirty sounds that ranged from needy to furious. 
“Please,” he whined. “Fuck, baby, please...untie my hands, let me cum….”
She looked up at him with those big doe eyes, and it was enough to make him unravel. Seeing her there between his legs, her perfect lips wrapped around his cock, was probably the sexiest thing he had ever seen. 
And it was just for him. 
“Fuck…” he moaned, his voice low as he came into her throat. His hips pressed forward with each wave that passed through him, the feeling of her throat tightening and swallowing only urging him to give her every last drop he had. 
Amoretta had never gotten to swallow with him before. When he was rutting, he never wanted her to waste even a bit of his seed, but for her first time, she felt like she did pretty well. It helped that she was addicted to the taste and the smell of his cock at this point, his musky scent filling her nose and practically making her purr. She wanted to drown in it, or at least roll around until she was completely drenched. 
“You better get up here.” Bucky growled as she let his cock pop out of her mouth, a little string of saliva following behind. 
“Or what?” She licked her lips, savoring the taste of him. 
He answered with a dangerously low snarl as she crawled over him. “Just sit on my fuckin’ face already.”
She bit her lip in anticipation as she made her way up to his head. He was quick to reach up for her, his tongue finding her cunt and encouraging her to sink down onto him with lap after lap. He went at it like he didn’t know when he’d get the chance to again, eagerly licking up the fresh slick coating her inner thighs and pausing for the occasional nip here and there.
Amoretta gasped and huffed, grabbing hold of his hair as she started rocking her hips. She didn’t know where he had learned to give such good head, but she wasn’t about to complain, not when his tongue was dipping in and out of her like that. 
“I-I didn’t know alphas ever did this,” she laughed breathlessly, grinding herself down against his mouth. 
He answered with a deep moan of appreciation. Honestly, if he could stay there like that forever, he would be a happy man. Her taste was absolutely intoxicating, and as he sucked at her clit, the sounds she let out were no less incredible. 
“Fuck,” She sighed, leaning her head back as she felt her stomach flutter. “I wanna cum…”
Bucky growled, the sound vibrating through her. His tongue found her clit one more, teasing it, flicking it, chasing it whenever her hips bucked away from him. He could taste more and more slick as it ran into his mouth, and judging by the whines and moans above him, he was doing a damn good job of eating her out.
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…” She whispered, desperately rolling her hips against him. 
He was ready, eagerly anticipating a flood of slick, but just as Amoretta felt herself getting close, she forced herself up and off of his face. 
“N-not yet,” she panted, shuffling back down to straddle his waist.
His cock was already hard again, his hips flexing as he desperately tried to thrust into her. Bucky watched, licking slick off his lips, as his omega slowly guided him into her, his cock slipping inside of her dripping cunt effortlessly. 
She was so warm and so fucking perfect, and as she rose up and then sank down on him again, Bucky thrust upwards. He matched her, letting her choose her pace, and as she rode him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face. 
Her mouth was open, gasps and moans falling from her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed, and as he pushed up even further into her, she bit her lip to silence a cry. 
“Don’t be quiet, doll,” he panted. “I want this whole damn tower to hear you.”
“James,” she moaned, leaning down to kiss him. “James, Alpha…”
He used her change in angle to his advantage, taking the opportunity to fuck up into her hard. 
“Come on, baby…” he panted against her mouth. “Drain my cock, lemme breed you…”
“Y-yes, Alpha,” She moaned, burying her face against his neck. He was so deep, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix in a way she couldn’t manage to describe. He was just filling her, completely, until he was the only thing she could think about. His scent, the taste of the sweat on his skin, his growls and moans...he was everything. 
Amoretta was completely wrapped up in him, surrounded by him, drunk on the musky, heady scent he was giving off. She was vaguely aware of the way he chanted her name, his voice low and husky as he huffed and panted. 
“Let go, baby,” he mumbled. He was getting close, he could tell, but he was trying to hold out for her. “Cum for me, cum for your alpha…”
She whined, pleasure coiling in her belly. “I—I wanna, I’m—I’m so close—“
The sound of her voice was almost too much, his knot already beginning to swell. She could feel it catching on her and let out a loud wail, her pussy clamping down and squeezing his cock as she felt that delicious, tingling electricity spreading through her. 
“That’s it,” he moaned, his back arching. “Fuck, ‘m gonna…gonna breed ya, omega…”
She answered with breathy gasps, her thighs shaking as an orgasm wracked her body. His knot was swelling quickly, and a few thrusts later, he let out the lowest, most guttural groan she had heard yet. She tilted her head for him and he latched onto her throat, sucking and biting at her wherever he could, leaving a trail of sloppy hickeys behind. 
He came again, hips stuttering as he filled her. They shared a long, satisfied sigh, and as his knot locked them together, they finally had the chance to catch their breath. 
“Wow,” Amoretta breathed, smiling down at him as she sat up. 
“Yeah,” he pressed his head back against the pillows. “Wow…”
As Amoretta tried to situate herself and get comfortable, she suddenly laughed. “Oh no…”
“What?” Bucky picked his head up again. 
He saw her reaching forward, her hand a significant distance from his bound wrists. 
“...you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Oops,” She laughed, letting her hand fall to his chest. “I didn’t think this through.”
“I cannot believe you got us stuck here like this.”
“You could just break them—“
“Absolutely not!” He growled. “I like this belt!”
“Then yeah, I got us stuck here like this.”
“Jesus Christ.” He groaned, head flopping back down. 
Amoretta settled down and got comfy, resting on his chest. “Soon as your knot goes down, I’ll free you. Promise.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled. “I, uh…liked it.”
She grinned. “I knew you would.”
“We can, uh...do more of this.” he cleared his throat. “If you want.”
“You look pretty good, all desperate on your back like that,” she teased. “You’re still bossy, though…” she clucked her tongue, chastising him. “You should try being more obedient for a change.”
“Don’t push your luck.” Bucky growled. 
“Why not?” she reached up to scratch at his chin. “You might like taking orders.”
“...Only from you.”
“See?”
“Maybe.” he huffed a laugh. “We’ll see.”
Amoretta hummed and nodded. Her heart was still pounding, but as they both calmed down, they sat in a peaceful silence. She could hear Bucky’s own heart hammering away in his chest, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat from his physical exertion. He wanted to go at it again when his knot went down, but he also wanted a shower, and maybe a snack. He wanted to make sure that Amoretta ate some real food, too, and as he looked down at her as she laid on his chest, he felt discontent rising. She was thinner than he remembered, not skin and bones but still not as healthily curvy as he wanted his omega. He needed to start providing for her, making sure she was well fed and happy. Besides, what better way was there to start courting a girl than by making her good food?
“What’re you thinking about?” she asked, pulling him away from his thoughts. 
“You.” he answered, his voice a low rumble. 
His lips spread into a wide smile, but when she spoke, she was practically whispering. “You sure?”
“Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be thinkin’ about my girl?” he tried to wrap his arms around her but scowled when he remembered he was still stuck. “You doubting me while my knot is stuck inside you?”
“No.” she shook her head, resting his cheek against him. 
“...You nervous?”
Amoretta bristled at the insinuation, then nodded hesitantly. “A little…”
“‘Bout what, doll?”
“Everything, I guess. This is a whole different world from the one I’ve been living in for so long. I mean, there’s a robot in the ceiling.”
“She’s actually an AI--”
“That might be worse.” Amoretta snorted. “It’s just a lot.”
“I know.” Bucky sighed. “Trust me, I know.”
She looked up at him. “You’re so much...softer, I guess, when you’re not rutting.”
“You never really met the real me back then.” He shifted his eyes away from her. “The Winter Soldier wasn’t...me.”
“I still liked him.” she inhaled deeply, filling her head with his scent. “And I like you.”
“Good,” he said, chest rumbling in a happy purr. “Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”
617 notes · View notes
spicykitteh · 3 years
Text
Chill
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Photo credit: Evgeny Karandaev
Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x fem!Reader, Sasha x Connie
Rating: 18+ NSFW, MDNI!
Word Count: 1.7K
Notes: Modern college AU, characters are aged up to early 20s, established relationship.
CW: Ice play, slightly rough sex -- more vigorous than rough, hint of edging, switch Jeanbo
Summary: On the hottest day of the year, Jean and his girlfriend try to find a way to cool off.
Jean sighed heavily as he punched the disconnect bubble on his phone. “Looks like we’re going to be sweating this weekend.”
“Are you kidding me? We pay this landlord a fortune every month and he can’t even bother to get over here and fix the air conditioner on the hottest week this year?!” YN plopped down on the threadbare brown sofa.
Jean had mentioned last week he had a bad feeling about the rattling the window unit had been making, shaking itself hard enough to sprinkle yellowed plastic shards and dust on the floor underneath it. This morning as the temperature climbed it seized with a deafening shriek. The four roommates tried poking and prodding at the thing though they all knew they had not a shred of mechanical aptitude. Jean spent nearly an hour arguing with the landlord but in this heatwave every repair service in town was booked completely.
“I guess the good news is Mr. Bozado said he wouldn’t charge us for the repair,” Jean offered weakly as he gulped lemonade. He swiped a hand across the sweat beading on his forehead.
“He better fuckin’ not,” Connie growled from the floor where he was sprawled out fanning himself with a hastily folded paper fan. “We didn’t break that junky thing, it was already half gone when we moved in.”
“I’m going to take a nap in the basement, it’s at least a little cooler down there,” Sasha said as she started opening windows for a cross breeze on her way to the basement steps. Connie tossed his makeshift fan on the coffee table and stomped heavily down the stairs in her wake.
YN glanced over to Jean who was draining the last of his now watery lemonade from the glass. “My room in the attic is way too hot. Is it ok if I stay in your room this weekend?”
Jean smiled over the rim of the glass and his honey eyes sparkled. “Sunshine, I don’t remember the last time you slept up there on your own since we came back from the beach.”
“Well, ok, that’s fair,” YN conceded with a wave of her hand. “It’s not like you’d let me sleep alone anyway, Little Spoon.” He set the glass on the coffee table where condensation pooled around the base and soaked the cork coaster. His knee nudged into hers as he sat down next to her and kissed her temple, tasting the salty sweat trickling from her brow.
“Just admit you can’t keep your hands off me, babe.”
“I can’t,” she turned her head to meet his lips as he bent to kiss her again. “Right now, though, it’s too hot for that.”
Jean agreed, leaning forward to peel his sweat-drenched t-shirt off. “Damnit, it’s like a furnace in here.” He scooped up his empty glass and motioned to hers with it. “Do you want another glass of lemonade?”
“Sure,” she exhaled and leaned back into the sofa. Jean strode through the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room and scooped ice cubes from the container in the freezer. YN snatched Connie’s paper fan from the table as she watched Jean filling the glasses with ice and lemonade, admiring his bare torso and amused by the way his lips curled into a wicked grin and his eyes flicked over to her, roaming shamelessly over her body. He chugged his glass until it was empty, then filled it again with only ice. He brought her cup to her and grasped her hand to pull her up from the sofa.
“I have an idea, c’mere,” he squeezed her hand as he led her to his bedroom and shut the door behind them. “It’s a few degrees cooler here since it’s on the north side of the house. Besides that, I thought you might like to get out of those clothes and try something with me.” He took her glass and set it on the nightstand next to his.
“Mmm, what have you got planned for me?” she smiled as she slipped out of her cotton t-shirt and denim cutoffs, revealing the black lace bra and panties underneath. He flashed that damned adorable crooked grin as she unclasped his belt and let it dangle to focus on unbuttoning his jeans, the soft blue denim whispering through her fingers and dropping to the floor. Despite the stifling heat in the room her core felt hotter when she palmed his hardness through his boxers. He laced his fingers into the soft strands of her hair and tilted her head back to press his soft lips to hers, sucking gently on her bottom lip, her jawline, her earlobe.
“You’re a bit overdressed for what I have in mind, madame.” He hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down her thighs. She shimmied out of the material and Jean swept her into his arms and lowered her onto the bed. His touch on her skin was like fire rushing through her veins that the breeze from the ceiling fan did little to cool off. He strode over to the window, propped it open and flicked on the small fan on his nightstand. His long fingers reached into his glass and deftly plucked out an ice cube. “Can I try cooling you down?”
She nodded and he stretched out beside her, nibbling at her flushed skin, letting the ice cube melting rapidly in his palm drip down the delicate skin of her throat, onto her collarbone, pooling in the valley between her breasts. His tongue chased the droplets, leaving a trail of goosebumps raised on her flesh and confusing her nervous system with the alternating chill of icy water and the heat of Jean’s mouth dragging against her skin. She arched her back against him, crying out when his chilled fingers slipped underneath her to unhook her bra and felt a light nip against her shoulder as he dragged the strap down her arm with his teeth. She shivered as his soft lips pressed kisses into the curve of her breast, her nipple brushing against the scruff of his jawline. He licked over the pink peak, sighing as he enveloped it with his lips and suckled hungrily.
YN’s fingers threaded through his strands, pulled him closer as she thrust her hips into him. His cock had already breached the fly of his boxers and pressed against her bare leg, the heat of him like a brand against her thigh. She traced a finger up the length of his shaft, her fingertip circling his sensitive tip and tracing over his slit. An airy moan broke the seal of his lips around her nipple.
“Oh fuck, honey,” was all Jean could manage between pants, mouth open, jaw jutting forward. His weakness ignited a primal urge in her to pounce on him, and she did. He easily rolled to his back with the press of her hand against his chest, watching her through heavily lidded eyes.
“Aren’t you hot with so much clothing on, baby?” she smirked and teased her forefinger under his waistband. He quickly discarded his boxers over the side of the bed. “That’s better. My turn now.”
She scooped an ice cube from his glass, tilting her head back but maintaining eye contact with him as she dropped the ice into her mouth, allowing the melt to trickle down her parched throat. She leaned over and kissed his neck lightly, then parted her lips just enough to blow chilled air over the sensitive skin behind his ear. Jean closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp, quavering gasp. “God, that feels good.”
She continued her trail of kisses down his throat, pausing to lick at the hollow just above the center of his collarbone and relishing in the salty tang of his skin. She pushed what remained of the ice cube along with her tongue until it had melted into a small pool on his chest. With one finger she pushed the droplets over his burning skin to scrawl in lazy arcs, her art punctuated with a kiss to his nipple. A whispery breeze through the window sighed in tandem with Jean, followed by the low rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance. YN pursed her lips and blew lightly across the pooling liquid, fascinated with the way his skin responded in goosebumps and how he gasped at the temperature change. She continued mapping every inch of him, the ridges and valleys of his abdomen, his sensitive navel, the smooth valley where his hip joined his pelvis so tantalizingly close to his tower of a cock.
“Please,’ he panted, “baby, I can’t take any more teasing, please!”
“Please what, sweetheart?”
“Please, please fuck me,” he tossed his head side to side on the pillow, his soft hair damp with sweat now mussed and sticking up at wild angles.
“You started this game, are you giving in so soon?” she sat back in amusement, enjoying how worked up Jean was for her.
“You’re driving me wild, babe, I need you,” he huffed impatiently.
She grinned and dropped to all fours, straddling his thighs and grazing her nipples up his torso until she was face to face with him. “Then come get me.”
Jean lost no time bucking up into her at a frenzied pace, his hands grasping desperately for her bouncing tits, her waist, her hips rocking in rhythm with his.
“Jean! Jean! Oh fuck baby,” she cried out with each powerful thrust of his hips.
He was too lost in his lust-clouded mind and could only respond with a whine, his long eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. She was at his mercy now, hanging on helplessly to his shoulders while he fucked her through wave after wave of powerful orgasms until he came deep inside her with a roar. A peal of thunder rattled the pane in the open window, followed by the steady patter of raindrops subsiding into a gentle thunderstorm. A cool breeze, heavy with petrichor, billowed through the curtains, much to the relief of the sweltering lovers.
Jean pulled her to his chest, tenderly rubbing her hips that were bound to be bruised under his desperate grip. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, babe.” She snuggled into his arms with a satisfied sigh.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” she giggled, “more than ok.”
The rain pattered steadily outside, answered occasionally by a soft murmur of thunder. The heat from earlier in the day finally subsided into a cool summer evening, perfect for sleeping through the night in each other’s arms.
111 notes · View notes
meltwonu · 3 years
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| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 2]
pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader
this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, some soft ‘woo too, restraints, panties as a gag, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, oral(fem receiving), cum eating, sir!kink. My god it has been a week, a WEEK i tell you 🥲 Ldfkjdf I hope the lot of you are taking a big deep breath this weekend and doing something to relax or doing some self care cuz baby we all need it!💕 Treat yourself to something good! Take that nap! Buy that album! Get that coffee! I’ll try to bust out some thirst posts this weekend(i think we all deserve some, eh?🥴) should tumb1r not hate my blog and as usual, inbox round up tomorrow! 💕💕 For now, de-stress with ch 2 of UIMY, and have a great weekend! I love you!! 💕💕💕💕
chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x
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You only get about 4 hours of sleep, if you’re being honest.
You won’t tell when asked because quite frankly, you’re a little embarrassed at how giddy you are to see Wonwoo today. You eagerly attend your morning class - panties already wet and mouth watering with the fantasies playing out in your head throughout the entire lecture.
“Hey, study buddy!”
Minghao slings an arm around your shoulder just as you turn to make a beeline towards the library, almost directing you into a different direction. “Where you headed off to? You wanna grab lunch?” Shit.
In the time that Wonwoo was gone, you’d spent a lot of time hanging out with other people trying to fill in the gap where, normally, you’d be spending underneath Wonwoo.
“I, um…” Going to get lunch with Minghao was one of the things that had become a normal thing after your morning classes and you hadn’t had the chance to tell him that your ‘usual’ schedule was back. “I--I’m gonna go study at the library for a bit! I’m really sorry! Can we go another day?” You pout at him which quickly melts off of your face when he shoots you a knowing smile.
“Gonna go ‘study’ Wonwoo-hyung, huh?”
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Minghao lets you go - telling you to let him know when you weren’t busy.
You all but tear the front door open once you reach the familiar library; sheepish smile when it makes more noise than you anticipate.
“Careful, wouldn’t want you to pay the price of breaking the door.”
Wonwoo smirks at you from behind the receptionist table; familiar and warm when you step closer to the counter. “Maybe I do? What do you know?” You quip back, cheeks warm and head fuzzy at the sight of Wonwoo back in his usual sweater vest and slacks.
He leans in closer to you over the countertop, gesturing to you to lean in close as well. His lips ghost across the shell of your ear as goosebumps rise on your skin and shivers roll down your spine and the familiar thrum of arousal pours over your body.
“I know you were probably thinking about me all morning, sweetheart. Thinking of all the things I’d do to you.” Wonwoo chuckles under his breath, “Your panties are probably already soaked, hmm? Like my good little slut always ready to take my cock.”
His filthy, whispered words are enough for you to whimper quietly - eyes downcast as you only lean in closer. “Y-yes… Wonwoo, p-please, I--”
Wonwoo leans away from you and you find yourself letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“You’ll have to wait. I need to file these late slips and sort these books.”
There’s a teasing smile on his face as he watches your lips part in shock. “But you can do that, right? Be patient?”
No.
“I--y-yes...” 
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You pick a table far from the others as you watch Wonwoo roll the cart with books into another row of bookshelves.
It felt a little odd to you now that you thought about it - waiting so patiently for Wonwoo when you were used to him caging you in against a bookshelf with his fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt or even just tugging you straight away into an empty study room on days when neither of you could wait to get your clothes off.
There was a certain softness that he seemed to show with you now; one that you appreciated and made you feel things that you’d never felt in any relationship before.
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Wonwoo would admit he wasn’t always good with showing his emotions with other people.
“He only shows it sometimes,” Jeonghan had said, “Usually to his hyungs and usually when he wants something.”
Which was true.
He struggled with letting his guard down and a lot of the time felt shy about voicing his emotions.
But with you, he felt differently. He wanted to show you that he was capable of letting his guard down and capable of showing you the affection and care that you deserved - even if the relationship the two of you had started was only physical at first. The time away from you only proved to him that he definitely cared about you more than he had initially thought too.
While his semester abroad was entertaining and educational, he found himself thinking about you often in the midst of his excavations and lectures. Wondering about what you were doing and who you were with; if you really thought about him as often as you had messaged him so.
“Um, excuse me?”
“O-oh, huh?”
He’s pulled from his thoughts just as another student steps in front of him in the aisle of books. “Sorry, I don’t remember where this book is from. Is it okay if I just give it to you?”
“Sure.”
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It takes twenty more minutes of you pretending to study before Wonwoo’s legs step into your periphery.
You open your mouth to speak but Wonwoo is quicker.
“Miss, I’m sorry, but I need to speak to you regarding some books you failed to return.”
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You try to hide the wide smile on your face when Wonwoo leads you down the familiar, lonesome side of the library.
“I’ll have you step into this room, miss.”
“Wonwoo, there’s literally nobody here…” Chuckling, you step into the empty, cleaned room that Wonwoo had painstakingly made sure was dusted before you came. “Unless we’re roleplaying, ‘cause then, I’m sorry, sir…”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him before easily walking you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the desk.
“You should be sorry, sweetheart. First, slamming the doors earlier and now overdue books? Tsk, when will you learn.” He easily slips into character, fingertips already ghosting against the exposed skin of your thighs before playing with the hem of your short skirt.
“How are you going to pay back what you owe, hmm? The damages might be irreparable.” He drags his hand up and under the flimsy material; appreciating the way your legs part a little more for him. A quiet moan floats past your lips just as his fingertips press gently into the growing wet patch of your panties.
“Already wet, too? Why exactly is that, sweetheart?”
“A-ah, ‘c-cause I want--want you to fuck me, s-sir… Been thinking a-about it all day… Just--just like you said...” You clench around emptiness, already impatient now that he had his hands on you.
“You have, huh? I bet you played with yourself last night, didn’t you? Fingered your slutty ‘lil hole and filled it up with a toy just to prep yourself for me.”
“Y-yes, sir…” Your guilty eyes avoid Wonwoo’s stern gaze, “I’m s-sorry… I--I couldn’t, ah, wait... Just t-talking to you, yesterday, I....”
Wonwoo’s fingers press hard against you, immediately rubbing your clit through your soaked panties as you mewl and lean into his warm chest.
“P-please… punish m-me…”
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You can only whine around the fabric stuffed in your mouth; hands tied behind your back with Wonwoo’s belt keeping them bound.
Your body jerks against the small desk as Wonwoo fucks you from behind in the small enclosed space you were used to and a certain warmth pours over you knowing that nothing really had changed since he’d left.
“Shit, I really missed cumming inside your tight lil’ pussy and making you walk home with my cum dripping down your legs.” There’s a soft chuckle under his breath; cock curving right into your g-spot as you whine and squirm underneath him.
“Bet you missed it too, huh? Getting home and fingering your filthy ‘lil cunt, fucking my cum deeper inside of you ‘cause you couldn’t get enough of me. Fuck, and when you’d send me pictures of your cute ‘lil fingers covered in my cum…”
Wonwoo smirks at your back, placing a hand on your bound arms as he uses it for leverage to fuck you deeper and harder.
“I’m back for good now though, sweetheart. Let’s see what else your cute cock starved body can take.”
You can only moan back in return - spit soaking into the wet fabric in your mouth as Wonwoo only fucks you harder. “God, your cunt is so fuckin’ perfect. Made to take my cock.” When you clamp down onto his cock tighter is when Wonwoo realizes he misses hearing your voice - chuckling softly as he leans over your trembling body.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh, sweetheart?”
He reaches around, tugging the soaking material from between your lips and placing it next to your head before he straightens back up. “Ngh… I, ah, s-sir…” You turn your head to the side, watching the wall as your body jerks atop the desk. “P-please… I--I wanna see y-you, hah, when y-your fuh--fuck me…”
A soft blush coats Wonwoo’s cheeks as he halts his movements. 
He clears his throat, pulling his cock out of you before stepping back and giving you space to readjust yourself. And with your arms still bound, you struggle slightly but manage.
This time, you sit atop the desk, spreading your legs wide for Wonwoo who licks his lips at the sight of your slightly mussed hair, blown out pupils and soaked cunt.
“That’s my good ‘lil slut.”
He positions himself between your legs, wrapping a hand around his cock and rubbing the head on your sensitive clit as you whimper. He circles the nub with the head of his cock, teasing you and himself as you squirm. “I take it you’ll be at the party tomorrow night, right?” His question catches you slightly off guard as you nod shakily.
“Good. ‘Cause I got you a present that I want to give to you tomorrow.”
“O-okay…”
Wonwoo sinks his cock back into you; cock curving into you perfectly as you cry out in return. “O-oh, god, s-sir--Wonwoo, I--fuck…” A choked sob bubbles up your throat at the feeling of him starting a harsh and quick pace, just how you liked it. “Mmh, my t-toys don’t feel as, hah, g-good as you… Fuck, you feel s-so good inside me…”
You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into the small of his back to push him in closer to yourself. “Use m-me like I’m your little cumslut...” The desperation sets in; tears freely falling from your eyes as the urge to cum on his cock becomes unbearable from the hellish months without him.
“Please, p-please… Harder, fuck me harder! I n-need it!”
He grins, knowing just how you felt but keeping his composure as he doubles his pace. “So fuckin’ desperate for me, sweetheart. You sound so pretty begging for me. Is that what you sounded like when you were touching yourself too? Begging for me all night long?”
“Y-yes, fuck! Ngh, fucking my ‘lil holes with my t-toys all night j-just to be satisfied… Oh, god, Wonwoo!”
You can’t stop yourself from cumming - toes curling and thighs shaking as your walls flutter around his cock. Wonwoo only fucks you harder as soft growls fall from his own lips.
“Fuck, I missed this, missed you. Missed your tight ‘lil cunt cumming around my cock, sweetheart.” He mumbles soft praises to you, although you can barely hear it in the midst of your orgasm; ears ringing and head feeling hazy at the intensity.
Wonwoo fares no better - cock throbbing inside your warm walls as his orgasm hits him hard only after a few more quick snaps of his hips.
Your bound arms behind you do little to keep your tired body upright atop the table but you do your best as he rides out his high. “Mmh, I can feel y-you cumming inside me… Fuck, it feels soooo gooood.” Drool pools in your mouth at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you for the first time in months and you mentally tell yourself to never let Wonwoo disappear for that long of time ever again.
“Ah, I feel so f-full…” Whining, you squirm as he continues to thrust into you, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy as you throw your head back at the fullness and wetness you feel. “Oh… Wonwoo…”
He lets out a deep breath before he slowly starts to pull out of you - cock covered in his cum and your wetness as he watches his cum drip from your spent hole. You slowly unhook your quivering thighs from around his waist as he steps back slightly.
“I--oh--”
You watch as he drops down to his knees, face right in front of your dripping cunt before he leans in.
“Oh, Wonwoo--” His tongue peeks out, lapping at your soaked folds before he drags it down and starts licking up the cum. “Fuck, oh, fuck…!”
Wonwoo dips his tongue into your hole, teasing you as your legs tremble and you try your hardest to not clamp your thighs around his head between your legs. You start to fight your restraints; fingertips wanting to thread through his hair as you grind against his skilled tongue.
 He licks up more of the cum before dragging his tongue up to your overly sensitive clit; rubbing soft, slow circles on the nub until you’re a whining mess above him.
“A-ah, I--I can’t, mmh, ‘m too sen--sensitive, sir…”
He takes his as his cue to stand from his position, standing quietly before leaning over you. He threads a hand through your hair, tilting your head up and kissing you on the lips as you melt into his gentle touch.
Your eyes flutter shut at his soft kiss, lips parting slightly for him as he uses his tongue to push cum into your waiting mouth.
The kiss turns hot and heavy as he moves the salty, sticky substance from his mouth to yours - lips covered in a combination of your wetness and his cum when he pulls away.
“So pretty for me, sweetheart.”
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When the two of you are somewhat cleaned up and ready to leave, Wonwoo stops you before you can get your hand on the doorknob.
“Hey, you okay?”
You shoot him a confused look, head tilted slightly at the bespectacled male that only looks mildly disheveled. “Um… y-yeah? Why?” His hand on your wrist makes your heart do backflips in your chest as he looks you over once more.
“I should’ve had some water for you and done proper aftercare since it’s been a while. I might've hurt you? Are your wrists okay? I can--”
“Whoa, hey, slow down! You’re, like, freaking out, ‘Woo.”
A pale blush coats his cheeks, “Sorry, I’m just trying to… be more… Expressive? I don’t know. It’s been a while. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He laughs lightly, somewhat embarrassed himself. “I don’t want to be weird but, y’know. I want to take care of you properly, sweetheart.”
“I--yeah, I understand! But I’m fine, I promise!” You beam up at him - happiness evident in your eyes and your smile. “Thank you… for making an effort, Wonwoo.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” 
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light-yaers · 3 years
Text
Sweet Escape: Chapter Seven
Poe Dameron x Reader
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Warnings: banterous flirting that may or may not crack your teeth, slight injury, alcohol, and OSCAR FUCKIN ISAAC
A/N: Honestly this is a bit of a filler, but I was having too much fun writing Poe and her's interactions that I simply couldn't stop. I didn't want to have such a large chapter, so I stuck with this little filler just for funzies. They do be getting closer doe....
Find the Masterpost here
Word Count - 2.5k
Chapter Seven: Blush
The first feeling upon gaining consciousness was ouch. Even opening your eyes made your muscles throb. The slow realisation that you were in the base’s med-bay, lying in a bed, came to you in waves. First, you let out an internal groan. Then, you let out an actual groan, as you tried to hoist yourself up to a sitting position.
Your body objected, rushing your limbs with an aching sort of pain that felt like you’d been training for 48 straight hours, but nevertheless you managed to sit up. The bay was quiet and collected, like a library, and only a few beds were actually occupied.
You felt her before you even saw her—Leia strolled round the corner then, eyes fixing upon you instantly. She gave you immediate comfort, despite your internal bruising and the anxiety that had started to bubble within your gut when you thought about what you’d just done.
The cat was out of the hypothetical bag. Your Force abilities weren’t just known now; you’d given the base an entire fucking demonstration. Brilliant.
“That was quite a show,” Leia said as she approached your bedside. You gave her a tired and half-hearted smile. “Thank you,” she added, and the seriousness in her voice was apparent. You nodded at her in response, not yet knowing what you could even say.
There was a silence that radiated from her—an intelligent and knowing quiet that told you all you needed to know; if you hadn’t of done what you did, many would have died. The base would have been all but destroyed.
“Are you okay?” she asked then, trickling her kind words over you softly.
“I feel like I’ve been punched all over my body, repeatedly,” you let out. A small scoff burst from her lips.
“I understand. The Force takes a lot out of you,”
“You could say that again,” you replied, testing out the movement of your arms. You stretched them out slowly, and your elbows clicked noisily. “Is everyone okay?”
“Some are more shaken up than others, but everyone’s just fine. Thanks to you,” Leia said, raising her brows at you in understanding. “Dameron’s waiting outside,” she added, causing you to whip your gaze to her suddenly. You let out a groan in pain as you brought a hand to rest on your stiff neck.
“Dameron?” you winced. Leia only nodded.
“I’ve never seen him be so proactive. He carried you here after you collapsed,”
You looked to your lap, overcome by a feeling half-way between wanting to vomit, and wanting to smile. Sure, you’d just revealed your gift and saved the damn Resistance, but you’d fainted afterwards—embarrassment wasn’t something that you dealt with well, as much as you shouldn’t have cared.
“Great,” you whispered to yourself. Leia let out another comforting chuckle, before placing a reassuring and gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked at her then, not even trying to cover up the absolute fear and anxiety on your face. Leia could feel your Force; she would have known your true feelings even if you had the strength to try and hide it from your expression.
“Shall I tell him to come back later?” she asked, but you were already shaking your head.
“No, no. He can see me,” the confidence in your tone was more prominent than you’d expected it to be, but maybe it was because it was him. It wasn’t Heidi or Lynx, who, as much as you liked them, were still closed books. Poe, though—
You already shared a room. What was one more?
Leia left after giving you a small nod. You took the few seconds it took her to leave the med-bay to mentally prepare yourself. You needed a nap, or ten naps, and you needed to keep it together. You’d never used your Force this way, nor had you been expecting to. The entire situation was a lot to take in.
But everyone was fine. You were fine. And that’s all that mattered.
Poe bound in before you could even slide yourself up the bed to lean against the wall. The first thing you noted about him was his expression; it wasn’t what you’d been expecting. His eyes were wide, his brow dotted with sweat, his shoulders hunched and tense and rigid. Maker forbid, the pilot was scared.
He grabbed a chair on his way over and sat down on it immediately, tucking himself in next to your bed as you fumbled with sitting.
“I’m fine, Dameron,” you said, as an involuntary chuckle escaped your lips.
“You sure?” he questioned, just double-checking. You nodded at him firmly, and then he visibly relaxed. He let out a large sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. “Had us worried there,”
“Had you worried,” you replied, shooting him a smile. It felt good.
“Hey, you’re the one that blacked the fuck out,” he let out, and you bit on your tongue as a wave of anxiety rushed through your gut. Dameron’s demeanour changed then, as an understanding settled onto his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you could use the Force?”
You swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that he’d obviously have questions. “Don’t take it personally. I haven’t told anyone before,”
“Why?” he repeated, looking at you with those big pretty boy eyes and delving deep into your damn soul. You didn’t realise just how hard it would be, being put in this position, but it was your own doing. You’d chosen to act.
“It was always easier to keep it a secret, okay? I wasn’t planning to ever use it in front of any of you, but—,” the breath hitched in the back of your throat as the image of the hurtling TIE hit your mind.
“The TIE followed Green-Two through hyperspace. It got hit and entered the atmosphere,” Poe explained. “They didn’t have time to realise what was happening and destroy it from the sky,”
“Yeah,” you replied, feeling overexposed and vulnerable and all of the feelings that you hated.
Your brain pelted thoughts at you then, as you tried to keep it together. It told you that everyone would look at you differently, even though you were all fighting for the same thing. It told you that you’d only become the brunt of another joke, that everything you despised about cadet life like this would be all-encompassing.
It told you that pilots would look at you like you had an unfair advantage; like you didn’t work to become as skilled as you were. It told you that Poe would think the same.
You fiddled with your fingers as Poe’s stare stayed glue to the side of your face. You didn’t want him to see that you were almost trembling, so you sucked it up. You forced yourself to perk up, to put on a blunt face, to ignore how close to screaming you were.
“I understand if you choose to take me off Black squadron,” you said plainly. Poe’s expression changed quicker than you could blink.
“Why the hell would I take you off my squad?” he replied. His squad.
“Unfair advantage and all that shit. Like I cheated or something,” you replied. Poe shifted in his chair and clenched his jaw.
“Did you use the Force on rank day?” he asked plainly. You immediately furrowed your brows at him, slightly angry.
“Fuck no. I don’t use it when piloting. I never usually use it—,”
“Then why the fuck would you take you off my squad, Ten?” he repeated, sterner this time. You let his words sink through your skin as you focused on calming your raging emotions. You were torn between kicking a wall, throwing a chair or crying on the floor like a baby. All three options sounded appealing to you.
“Even if you did use the Force to fly, I wouldn’t change your rank,” he added. “You’re a fucking good pilot. That shit can’t be learned just because you possess the Force. Unfair advantage my ass, Ten,”
The blush crept into your cheeks before you had the chance to look away. Poe’s lips curled into a small smirk—his most punchable expression. You had to speak away the tension before it consumed you.
“Can you go back to teasing me or horrendously hitting on me, now? All this mushy stuff is insufferable. It’s not like I fucking died,” you let out, trying to subvert his gaze away from your blotched cheeks. This was the second time the pilot had made you blush today—you didn’t want it to become a fucking daily occurrence.
You froze when Poe’s fingers reached out and touched your face. Your stare was upon him in an instant, watching the gentle way his eyes looked from cheek to cheek.
“I call you a good pilot once and you start blushing, huh?” he said lowly, sensually.
He was doing it on fucking purpose.
The redness of your face immediately elevated, but you’d grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm within seconds of taking in his words. He yelped in pain as you twisted his arm over the bed, causing him to stand from the chair and lean forward as you jerked him painfully.
That’s when you grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face close to your own and shooting him with a stare that only communicated one thing—death.
“If you want to keep this pretty boy face then I suggest you tread carefully, Dameron,” you said unapologetically, ignoring the pain in your limbs. Poe started to relax more now that your grip wasn’t on his arm. Hell, maybe he fucking enjoyed being threatened this way, because the smirk didn’t wipe off of his face at all.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re hot when you’re angry?” he said it as clear as day with no hesitation.
You dropped him immediately, causing his upper body to whack onto the mattress and spring back into his chair. He fell back into the chair and almost twisted onto the floor, but he regained his balance as chuckles fell from his lips boyishly. “Hey, you asked for this,” he said, raising his arms defensively at the unamused look on your face.
You pinched the bridge of your nose quickly, clamping your eyes shut as the hammering heartbeat beneath your ribs all but consumed you. “You—you—,”
“I really rile you up, don’t I?” Poe cut you off, crossing his arms smugly as you started to calm down slightly. You composed yourself as best as you could, not removing your angry stare from his pretty boy face. He thrived off of this, that much was certain. But it was true—you had just asked for it.
You just hadn’t expected reacting this way when your guards weren’t all the way up. There was something about being here with Poe, alone, after knowing that he’d been the one to place you on this bed himself, that hit you harder than you’d ever fucking admit.
These weeks hadn’t exactly been easy; being in the Resistance was literally the hardest job in the galaxy; but Poe had been a constant that you were only now realising. He was there when you went to bed, he was there when you woke up. His smug face was there whenever the subject of sex arose, or whenever he was ready to push your buttons, but his anger and rage was there whenever someone crossed you, as well.
Maker, it was almost like he cared.
And you weren’t used to that. You weren’t used to that at all.
Apparently, all of your thoughts had just made themselves known through your face, as Poe let out a soft scoff, eating up your expression.
“I’ll take that as a yes. What can I say? There’s no one like me,” he spoke so easily, so happily and upbeat. You could tell he was just trying to tease you more, but he was right.
“There is no one like you,” you repeated his words, jaw clenched. It wasn’t a compliment, and he knew that.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Poe said, waving his hand in the air. He leaned forward then, perking a brow at you questioningly, overly confident to the point that you were almost jealous of how open he was. “Does this mean there’s a tiny, minuscule, microscopic part of you that actually likes me?”
You rolled your eyes immediately, as you began to twist your legs to dangle over the side of the mattress. You placed your feet on the floor gently, applying pressure to them to see if you could stand.
Poe stood quickly, pushing back the chair as he got out of your way. You stood, leaning against the bed for subtle support, but other than the aches and internal bruises in your muscles, you were just fine.
“Don’t hold your breath, Dameron,” you said, as you started to stroll towards the med-bay exit. Dameron was at your side, cautiously staying close while also somehow keeping his distance. He was hyper-vigilant to make sure you weren’t about to fall.
When you both reached the door, Poe gently took hold of your forearm. All prior playfulness was gone from his face. “Thank you, for stopping the TIE. A crash like that... it would have ruined us,” he said sincerely.
“We’re all fighting for the same thing,” you replied. “I’m glad I could be of service,”
He smiled at you genuinely, and you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your gut from spreading all over your body. As much as he teased and toyed and you had this back and forth; somewhere between hatred and likeness and flirting and fighting; you were both fighting the same war, performing the same jobs, living the same life.
He nodded once, before the two of you made your way down the corridor slowly. He stayed at your pace, not complaining as you got used to your creaky and stiff limbs or winced at the way your body pulsed with every step.
“So, no chance of a beer tonight, then?” he spoke up, perking a brow at you. You perked one back at him as an unexpected smirk curled onto your lips.
“I exposed my Force abilities, moved a crashing TIE with my mind and blacked the fuck out today. I think I’ll take a fucking beer,” you said. Poe chuckled to himself and you couldn’t help it when you joined him.
Slowly, he brought his arm to wrap around your shoulders. He shoved you into his chest playfully, just once, before gently pushing you back and removing his grip from you. “That’s what I wanted to hear,”
You and Dameron headed for the dorm together, shoulders often swiping against each other. Tension still hovered in the air, but it was as if both of you were slowly getting used to it. Maybe that was something that should have been scary to you, but when your Force wrapped itself around Poe when you both entered your dorm, exposing the gentle and fond way he was thinking of you—
All you felt was peace.
@foxilayde @onceuponathreetwoone @ecuadorlady @voidmalfoy @20th-centu-fairy-girl @frickfrackpattywhacktictac @baueoud @300nightmare003 @lilitrth @salome-c @youre-a-wallflower-charlie
I know this chapter is a bit short, but when I tell you big these are coming then please believe me.... get ready. <3
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anna-hawk · 3 years
Text
Don't move
I was supposed to work on some requests, but I ended up writing this after I had a chat with @darlingshane about doing chores and the likes with Shane/Frank. I just tend to take things a bit too far every time 🙃 She was also amazing and made this gorgeous gif just for this lil' fic. Thank you, Darling 🤗
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Frank coming home with a sprained wrist was bound to cause him some problems. Especially since it’s his right hand, and he does most things with it. Eating had taken a bit of finagling, but he’d worked it out quickly enough. You might have intentionally started cooking meals that require less cutting, too. 
It's after the second week with his wrist in a brace, that he comes up with something that he can't do. Not even with his left hand.
"Fuckin' hell!" You hear him swear loudly from the bathroom. 
You're sitting up in bed, book in hand, and lift your eyes to the slightly opened bathroom door, wondering what got Frank so angry.
"You're alright?" You ask, when the dark mumbling continues, unintelligible now.
You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom when you don't get an answer. You have to bite your lower lip on a laugh at the display in front of you and lean against the door jamb. 
Frank is standing in front of the sink, clad in only a pair of sweatpants, and glaring at his right hand. 
His beard weirdly streaked through you notice.
"Need help?" 
Brown eyes meet yours through the mirror in front of them. They narrow when they take in your amusement. You lift your hands in a show of peace and step closer, renewing your question by raising your eyebrows inquiringly. Frank sighs in defeat and turns to face you, handing you a beard trimmer.
"I like the longer beard," you announce, swiping a finger over his jawline where he tried trimming it.
Frank's face splits into a shit-eating grin at your statement. That earns him a slap to the shoulder. You know where his thoughts just went. Namely, to the last time he'd left a beard burn on your inner thighs. You can't help grinning in return after a second, though. It had been quite the night.
"Okay, sit down, smart-ass." You indicate the rim of the bathtub. 
Frank does as he's told and lifts his face for you. You grab a small towel, putting it over Frank's shoulders to catch the hairs that you’ll be cutting off.
"Don't move," you instruct, stepping between his spread legs for easier access. 
You check the number the dial on the trimmer is set to, in case it needs adjusting later, before bringing it to Frank’s throat, the man looking at you expectantly. 
“Here we go.”
You’ve never done this before, so you take your time, making sure not to miss a spot as you move from neck to jaw, small hairs falling over Frank's towel-covered chest and the floor below. You like this, you quickly realize. The buzzing sound of the device, the regular movement of your hand while you concentrate on your task. And Frank's gaze on you. You ignore his stare for the longest time, not wanting to lose your focus. Frank is making it difficult, though. You're not touching. Not really. You have a hand on his shoulder to keep you steady or on his jaw to guide his head where you need it. His thighs are barely grazing yours. But you feel his every breath on your skin, his body heat, his distinctive scent. Simply Frank's whole presence. 
A pleasant shiver runs down your back at his continued observation. It's the only thing he can do, really, but it still has the same effect as a touch. You finally make eye contact. You almost regret giving in, because it does break your focus like you knew it would. You need to breathe in and out deeply a few times at Frank's intense gaze. He's clearly enjoying this immensely. 
Large hands come up to rest over your hips. Not grabbing or holding. Just there. The only movement comes from his thumbs, stroking up and down. You're wearing your usual night getup (a pair of boy shorts and a tank top) so that his touch over your clothes feels like he were touching your skin directly. 
"Don't move," you croak your earlier words before clearing your throat.
Frank smirks but remains quiet. His eyes never leave you, though, and you have to push his stupidly, handsome face away with a palm to make him laugh out loud and break the spell he's put you under. 
"Stop it." You shake your head in amusement, turning his face this way and that way to have a look at your progress. 
"Ain't doin' anythin'," he rumbles innocently, his hands falling away from you.
You snort but resume trimming his beard.
It only takes Frank another minute to touch you again, fingertips skimming over your ass this time. You jump slightly and draw in a sharp breath, managing to stop your hand from hitting Frank with the trimmer in reflex.
"I said. Don't. Move. Frank!" You swat his hand away, Frank chuckling, highly amused.
His hands leave you once more as you grumble silently, your words swallowed by the sound of the trimmer.
Frank is good for the next few minutes. Long enough for you to relax again and work around his mouth carefully. All the same, you don't know why you thought that Frank is done playing, because you still shriek in surprise when his fingers tickle the skin right behind your knees. A few things happen in the same second that you scream: your hands jerk up in shock at the unexpected touch so that the thumb of the hand holding the trimmer skids over the dial, setting it to the lowest number, and makes you shave a bare patch of skin into Frank’s bearded jaw and cheek.
You both freeze, the small device still buzzing away merrily in your palm, and look at each other in shock. Frank lifts his good hand to his face, feeling over the bare skin.
“I told you not to move!” you yell at him, right before exploding into loud laughter at the sight of the now ruined beard. "Serves you right, Mister I-can't-keep-my-hands-to-myself. You know how ticklish I am."
Frank turns his head to the mirror to inspect the 'damage', thumbing over the shaved off part. He snorts.
"Guess we need to shave it all off, now."
"You think?" You snark, still chuckling and turning the trimmer off. 
"Alright, smarty-pants, think you can shave it all off and not slit my throat?" Frank laughs, reaching for his shaving kit without having to move you from between his legs, and getting the shaving cream and an actual razor out. 
"Depends on you." You level Frank with a highly skeptical gaze, one eyebrow raising over your forehead. "Think you can keep your hands to yourself for that long?" 
"Sure. No problem." He's pressing shaving cream into a palm, but stops after a second to add, "You might wanna put on a bathrobe or somethin', though."
You burst out laughing at the admission and take his face between your hands to pull him into a kiss. You planned for it to be a short and sweet kiss, but you didn't count on Frank to grab your ass, shaving cream and all, and tug you further into him. You make a small sound of surprise and offense at getting shaving cream all over your butt, before sitting sideways on one of his thighs so that you both don't go tumbling backwards into the bathtub. 
"So I guess you can't keep them to yourself," you grin against his lips, linking your arms loosely around Frank's neck. 
You squawk when he retaliates by slipping his sticky hand under your tank top and slides the fingertips over your ribs, making you shriek again and laugh uncontrollably. 
"Stop! Stop!" You beg in between sharp breaths and laughs, slapping and pushing at his chest repeatedly. 
Frank moves so that you're suddenly lifted into his arms, bridal style, and carried into the bedroom. He practically throws you onto the bed, but he leaves you no room for any kind of comment as he immediately follows and slips between your parted legs. 
Fun fact : I got the idea with the accident from something that actually happened to me last summer. Ever since the first lockdown, I’ve been trimming my husband’s hair. The third time I did it, I accidentally touched the dial while removing excess hair from the top part and when I started trimming again... it resulted in a huge hole in my husband’s hair. OMG, my face in that moment, you guys. Just pure shock. I obviously had to come clean pretty quickly, but he took it better than I had first anticipated. I must add that he wears his hair very short to begin with, so that the difference wasn’t that terrible. But it was pretty close to just shaving his whole hair off. I check the stupid dial every time I do this for him now. 
"You think I can't keep my hands to myself?" He rumbles against your month. "Lemme show you just how much I can't then." 
Part 2 (nsfw)
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Text
Soft
Hi, i was sad all day so i wrote this to cheer myself up lmao, please enjoy people :) This is really soft lol, don‘t expect hardcore shit
Warning: 18+
Right, lets go
---
It‘s been about two weeks since you and Remus have had a moment for yourselves. Everytime you decided to make time for each other something came up or he wasn‘t feeling well because of the moon. Both of you were angry and stressed and moody, because you wanted each other so bad, but the universe just seemed to be against the idea.
„I don‘t want to fight with you right now!“, Remus let out, voice loud, proving that he in fact did want to fight.
„Why are you yelling then?“ Your tone matched his, your mood quickly turning sour.
„I‘m not bloody yellin, you‘re jus‘ being a sensitive wuss. Fuckin‘ hell.“ He whispered the last part as fingers pressed against his closed eyes. He had fucked up.
Your jaw dropped, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. „A wuss!? You must be bloody joking right now! You utter ass, Remus Lupin!“
He groaned with annoyance, aggressively packing his bag as he made his way out of the common room. Stopping midway he turned around sharply and said in an overly cheery voice, „Whenever you decide to stop being a snotty brat, come find me!“ Bowing he gave you a mocking smile, not staying long enough to witness you giving him the finger. He did have an idea what you did though, hearing the others gasp as they watched the whole ordeal.
„What a prat“, Mary said, plopping down on your side as Lily took your other.
Lily rubbed your arm soothingly. „Hey, don‘t worry. Every couple fights and with the amount of stress weighting on us it was bound to happen...“
You let out a breath and leaned back against the couch. „I know he didn‘t mean it, but god-“ Your voice cut off, choking slightly as you tried to calm yourself. „I miss him and he‘s acting like I‘m being clingy. We haven‘t kissed in three days!“
Mary let out a sympathetic sigh, taking your hand. „I‘m sorry, I know it sucks. But I‘m sure that he misses you just as much. This is Remus we‘re talking about, the bloke never shows his emotions.“
„I agree“, Lily joined in, „besides James has been telling me that Remus has been shitty to them as well. It‘s not your fault, he just doesn‘t cope in a healthy way.“
Now you felt bad for riling him up. Remus must have been feeling really down lately for him to react like he did minutes ago. Of course he misses you goddamn it, the boy can‘t sleep through a single night if your aren‘t there.
„Merlin girls I feel so bad now. I need to make it alright again. I never even asked him how he‘s feeling..“
Mary smirked suddenly, giving you a pointed glance. „I mean...You did say that you needed some alone time..“
You smirked back, albeit blushing a little, and told her to continue.
„There is this muggle clothing brand Lily told me about...“
„Victorias Secret“ Lily offered, now smiling as well.
„Exactly! We should check it out. Besides our dorm will be empty tonight, we‘re planning to sneak out and stay with the girls from Ravenclaw.“
„I love where this is going“, you beamed, „Let‘s get going, I need sexy lingerie.“
---
The girls were bickering about what color suited your skin best, when you zoned put a little, remembering a conversation you had with Remus before youe started dating.
„I really like your sweater. Where‘d you get it?“
You smiled at Remus, thanking him. „Got it from a second hand shop in London. I just couldn‘t resist the color.“
Remus smiled back. „Yeah, emerald green is my favorite color. I‘d kill to have something in that color“, he joked.
You giggled, giving him a shy smile. „Well, maybe you will.“
Beaming you swirled around, grabbing their shoulders to get their attention. With a handful of underwear in their hands they turned around, raising their brows simultaneously.
„Girls, I remember his favorite color! It‘s emerald!“
It took you another hour to finally find the shade of emerald you were looking for and when you did you squealed with joy.
„It‘s perfect!“, you gasped. „Oh my god, he‘s going to love it! It looks just like my sweater!“
The girls grinned at your happiness, immediately pushing you towards the cash desk.
God, Remus is gonna love it.
---
You let out a breath, finally sitting down.
Lily emerged from the bathroom. „Alright, lets check. Bed clean?“
„Check.“
„Shower and lotion?“
„Check.“
„Washed the underwear?“
„Check.“
„Good. That should be all then. Mary and I are leaving now, if you want any snacks there are some in my trunk. Just take whatever.“
You hugged them gratefully. „Thank you girls, I love you.“
„We love you too. Have fun!“
Mary peaked her head through and laughingly let out a „Don‘t break the bed like last time!“ before Lily pulled her away.
You fondly shook your head and glanced at your bed where the pieces were laid out. It was a beautiful emerald lacy set, with a bra and panties with attached garter belts. James and Sirius had promised to send Remus up, so now it was time to wait. Putting the underwear on you lit some candles, fluffing your bed. Just as you slipped one of Remus‘ old shirts over your head the door opened, revealing your boyfriend. He shuffled inside, simply dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweater, closing the door. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds, stranglely nervous.
„I‘m sorry-“
„I shouldn‘t have-“
You cut each other off trying to speak at the same time. You flushed as Remus chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Remus finally walked towards you to pull you in, his hands gripping your waist tight. You put your face in his neck to breathe in his familiar scent. Books and chocolate and safe and warm. He smelled like eveything you love.
„I‘m sorry I never asked how you‘re doing. You never let it show and I forgot that even if you‘re my rock, you‘re human. You have the right to be overwhelmed Remus...“
He pressed a kiss on your crown, muttering in a soft tone. „I know, I‘m working on the communication part. I‘m sorry too, love.“
You pulled back, your chin resting ln his chest amd you gave him a coy smile. He raised his brow, smirking.
„I have something for you“, you drawled, pushing him on your bed to stand between his legs, „but you need to unpack it.“
Remus tilted his head to look at you, his gaze questioning.
„Take my shirt off.“
His lips parted and you could see the anticipation in his eyes. Slowly he glided his hands up your bare legs to grip the shirt, holding your intense gaze he pulled it up, groaning softly when he saw the garter belt peaking out. You let him pull the material over your head, your hair falling onto your shoulders.
He let out a breathless laugh.
„You look stunning.“
A kiss on your sternum.
„The most beautiful person in the world.“
A kiss on your belly.
„So fucking perfect.“
A kiss on the hem of your panties. Another on your hipbones. The last ones on the tops of your thighs.
You tugged at his hair to make him look at you. Bending down at the knees you kissed his mouth. He looked up at you with pure adoration, as if he was looking at a goddess.
„Remus“, you called his name softly, „Will you let me fuck you tonighg?“
He closed his eyes groaning. „Anything“, he breathed.
You smiled softly. „Take of your clothes and lay on the bed.“
He complied immediately, taking his clothes off and rested on the bed. You straddled his waist, his hands coming up to rest on your thighs, his fingers playing with the garter belts. Remus is usually very dominant in bed, throwing you around and making you take him. But in times like this, where he lets you take the wheel, you know that you have to treat him very gently.
You leaned down, brushing your lips against his. He parted his mouth with a single breath and you connected your lips. Moaning, his arms snaked around your waist to pull you closer and he kissed you deeper. Your tongue licked at his bottom lip and he opened his mouth to let you in. Dominating the kiss, you bit his lip teasingly.
„Love, please I need you.“
You shushed him, kissing his jaw and chin, sucking on his neck. Your lips brushed against his chest, lips locking around his nipples, licking and bruising them. Moving further down his body, you sucked at his hipbones, your nose brushing against his happy trail. He bucked his hips moaning your name.
You wrapped your lips around the tip and massaged him with your tongue, tasting the precum. You hummed softly and he hissed, hands stroking your hair and he parted his legs a little. Your hand tugged on his heavy balls, your mouth taking him deeper.
„Fuck baby, yes!“
You sucked hard and he whimpered, hand tightening in your hair. Your tongue played with the vein on the side of his cock, making him twitch inside of your mouth.
„If you ah don‘t stop-“
He choked on his words and you pulled off, wanting him inside of you when he came.
„How do you want me?“, you whispered softly as you moved to take off your panties.
„On your back, wanna see your face...“
You laid down and he sat there for a second, admiring your beauty. The way your hair sprawled around you, the swell of your breasts in the emerald bra, your soft skin and parted lips.
He placed himself between your legs, hands on either side of your face. Remus‘ cock brushed against your slit, slowly sliding in and you let out a breath against his lips.
He groaned, holding your gaze and pushed inside, a vulnerable glint in his usually guarded eyes. You pulled him closer, his chest brushing yours and looped your legs around the back of his hamstrings. He was going in deep and slow strokes, just wanting to feel close to you. Hitting the spot inside of you, you let out a broken whine, pushing youe hips up to meet his thrusts. He went faster, still a tender look in his eyes and his other hand rubbed your clit.
You gasped at the contact and whimpered. Tightening around him, you mewled „Remus m‘gonna cum-“
„Cum love, fuck“
You came at the same time, looking at each other lovingly as he kissed you. His hot seed spilled deep inside of you and you smiled breathless.
„I love you so much“, Remus whispered, kissing all over your face.
„I love you too.“
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citydreamgrls · 4 years
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a simple favour - part four (final)
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fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.
a/n: thank you for all the love on this mini-series, i’ve really enjoyed writing it. as a warning, this last part is mostly smut and doesn’t add much to the story until the end really. hope you’ve enjoyed and thanks again :)))
words: 1,797
warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut (18+)
Fred kicked the door open, the girl in arms, their lips refusing to part as he pushed her up against the small table at the edge of the room. This was what everything had been leading up to, all their arguing and avoiding. He almost laughed to himself as he remembered that they were both just as bad as each other.
Y/n moaned out as Fred stood before her, large hands roaming down her thighs. His touch on her felt like electricity, no longer the fake gentle hands she was used to. Now it was hard on her, like every time he’d grab her there would be a bruise, but she loved it. That pain felt like heaven when it was Fred.
Her legs were pushed open, the sound of a belt buckle echoing through the rickety cabin they had rushed to. Y/n threw her head back when the boy’s lips moved down her neck, sucking deep purple specks all across the exposed skin. His tongue was rough against her, creating a tingling friction every time it swiped over her body, lowering by the second.
“You’re addictive,” He’d mumbled, her fingers grabbing Fred’s hair and yanking his head away from her chest to bring their mouths together again. “So fuckin-”
“Fuck me.” She begged clearly, not needing anything to get her in the mood. It had been months of tension between them, and y/n needed to let it all go.
Fred stood away, hands going back to his belt and sliding out of the small loops of his trousers. The girl looked confused, but watched him silently, pulling off her panties from beneath her skirt. He’d practically pushed it all the way up on her just from his groping hands, but she kept it there, knowing he’d only end up doing the same in a minute or so.
The tall bay towered over her, even when she was sitting on the raised surface. He grabbed both of her hands and pushed her wrists together, the girl quickly catching on and obeying. Fred took the leather belt, slowly wrapping it around her like cuffs and making sure she couldn’t get free.
He smirked at her, so vulnerable to him, and pushed her bound arms up above her head. The girl laid back, still just about able to watch him undress. She’d never had the pleasure of feeling him before, or even guessing how big he would be. But it made sense that he was.
Fred wasted absolutely no time with the panting girl, all laid out perfectly for him on the table, and pushed his cock deep inside her. They both let out a groan, loud and animalistic, neither of them cared seeing as they were so far from the castle. If Fred had little experience with girls, he didn’t let it show in the slightest.
He held y/n’s arms down with one hand, the other gripping her tit like it was his to own. His thrusts were like oil, smooth and thick and seamless. One after the other, pumping himself inside her as if she were some sort of toy. The girl was screaming, senseless, her body on fire from the stretch that Fred’s cock caused. He smirked again, above her, watching her come undone from his touch.
Yet he too couldn’t deny that it turned him on even more, her submissiveness after their fight was beautiful, it made him feel truly in charge of her. He pushed harder and deeper, just thinking of her urged him on more and more. Her pussy would have been more than enough, tight with pressure and full of her cum.
She hadn’t been able to hold back her orgasm a few times now. The first had hit her unexpectedly, streaming out of her body as if there was no control of it. The second was a wave, rising steadily with the more he looked into her eyes and fucked ruthlessly. Then the third was the game changer, a feeling so unique and incredible she felt as though she would have died in that very boathouse, with Fred's cock 8 inches deep.
It had started brewing as soon as the last one had seemed to disappear, like small bolts of electricity sparking her stomach. Fred had watched her each time, revelling in the way her body twisted and clenched when the feeling overcame her, a feeling he was making.
He was unrelenting with his pace the whole time, but as soon as he saw her eyes widen more than before and she gasped out those few words. He knew that he was close too.
“Plea-se Fred it-t’s so good.” She’d moaned out, her hips off the table to force him deeper. The tip of his cock was pretty much in her stomach now, bouncing off her walls like a machine. With those words spoken to him, Fred took a hand and grabbed her throat, encasing it with his fingers and squeezing.
She moaned, louder than ever before, and her pussy clenched. The boy faltered his hips, still fucking her at an unimaginable speed, but gritting his teeth as they locked eyes yet again. Her head was thrown back, moans ripping from her throat like prayers in the night.
“Fred Fred Fred,” She’d started chanting with his hips. He’d never appreciated her voice as much as he did that night, begging for him and crying out his name.
“Scream for me,” He hissed, licking a stripe up the side of her neck.
It would have alerted people to an accident in any other case, but when y/n screamed this time it was for nothing more than the sheer desire of Fred’s cock. He pushed harder and harder, knowing she was close and bit down on his lip, doing his best to suppress a growl.
But it slipped out, as y/n came like a waterfall over him, he released his load inside of the shaking girl. Her body rose as he did, wanting to be as close as possible. He held her, still groaning out as he finished off, and let her slip her cuffed hands over his neck.
They stayed together for a few minutes, neither of them able to process what had just happened. The girl shook in his arms as he let her hands free of his belt, whispering to her, scared to startle her weak form.
“Did we just need to fuck the whole time?” She asked as he silently pocketed her panties and slid his belt back on. Fred nodded, unable to deny that it changed his need for her. He didn’t feel that immense hate or tension between them, that had been released when he came inside her. The cum that was currently dripping down her legs as she tried to stand, not doing a good job.
“Useless,” He huffed, picking her up and holding her legs around his waist. “You’re gonna owe me a new jumper after this,” She giggled at the small wet patch that was already rubbing off on his side as she put her arms around his neck.
-
“It’s weird,” I told Fred as he slowly made his way up the hill.
“That you’re so heavy?” He interrupted, lifting me a bit higher as I slipped down.
“No…” I glared. “I don’t hate you anymore.”
“I never hated you, not really. I just tried to.”
“I didn’t hate you until you were mean to me,” “You told Hermione you hated me,” He said, a guilty look on his face as I realised when I’d told her that. It had been in our dorm, how would he know that, unless it was Hermione? She wouldn’t have dared though.
“I was outside the door, to apologise, but then I heard you.” He explained, stopping for a rest on the courtyard.
“I also told Hermione that I loved you, so do with that what you will.” I laughed, letting him pick me up off the wall to keep going into the castle. He laughed to himself, complaining quietly about how much of a hassle I was, but he wasn’t being mean anymore.
People gave us looks again, Fred not looking like he would be that strong, yet without a hill in the way, he was effortlessly holding me up all the way to the common room. Where Ron gave us yet another groan.
“What have you done to her NOW!” He cried out, catching the attention of the others.
“Y/n twisted her ankle down by the lake,” Fred spoke before I could fumble over my answer, smiling at his brother. The group frowned, not used to seeing us actually getting along. “Make some room for her then, come on shift it.” He kicked George’s foot, making the twin stand up off the couch.
He put me down in the spot gently, with a quick wink, before pushing Ron onto the floor so he could stay beside me. All this subtle possessiveness was coming out of him, and I hated to say that I actually enjoyed it.
“What’s going on with you two?” Hermione asked, her book long forgotten now.
“What do you mean?” Fred smiled, putting an arm around me.
“Well, didn’t you two hate each other?” Harry asked quietly, not sure what to make of the scene before him.
“Y/n and I have worked through things,” He squeezed my arm with a smirk, “It was pretty hard wasn’t it darling?” He was cocky now, making me blush and struggle to hold back a laugh.
-
I woke up the next morning to Fred’s voice in my room, I sat up confused, Hermione was missing from her bed.
“What time is it?” I rubbed my eyes as he came over, pushing me back down and leaning over me.
“Hermione told me she couldn’t wake you up this morning, said you were out cold.” I frowned at him, a teasing look in his eyes as his hands rubbed over my legs gently. “You must’ve been really worn out huh?”
I reached up and stroked my hands through his long hair, moving it from his face. I just smiled and bit my lip slightly as a reflex to the feeling inside of me.
“Come here slut,” He laughed, rolling my body over and placing a piercing smack on my ass, making a moan fall from my lips uncontrollably. “We haven’t got long till they start coming back from breakfast, so be a good girl and take my cock now.”
If it had been hard lying to people and pretending to be in a relationship, then trying to hide the fact that you were secretly fucking someone was seeming a whole lot harder. But when it came to Fred, everything was hard.
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pressedinthepages · 3 years
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Beneath Each Other's Bones
My fic entry for @eskelbigbang <3
Please also check out @drachedraws two amazing pieces of art that they made for this fic!
Relationship Tags: Eskel/Geralt
Character Tags: Eskel, Geralt, Lambert, Vesemir, Lil' Bleater
Other Tags: smut, established relationship, oral and anal intercourse (m/m), some very soft smut. what can i say.
Summary: Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold.
The stones of Kaer Morhen sighed as the sun rose over the winter-frosted valley. The birds and harpies had long since traveled south for the cooler months, and the draconids had nestled themselves in the depths of the mountains around the aging keep. The castle itself was full of its Witchers, who were patiently waiting for the first snowfall to blanket their surroundings in layers of quiet white . With the last witcher having finally arrived a few evenings prior, the pack were all finally able to rest peacefully with the knowledge that all were safe.
The first thing that Geralt felt was cold. His nose, the tips of his ears. The rest of him was encompassed in warmth, but the chill rudely nipped him awake, undaunted by his furry woollen fortress. He squinted one eye open with a grimace, finding his bedroom washed in the cool sunlight that streamed in from the window. It was still early. The morning sun had barely breached the horizon. Lambert would still be snoozing away, cocooned in the safety of a warm and familiar bed, but Vesemir would likely already be down in the kitchen preparing for the day.
Geralt’s ears, barely poking out from under his blanket, picked up the steady thunks of wood being chopped, and he grunted as he sat up, letting the blanket pool around his waist. His chest was bare, pale, scarred skin reluctantly exposed to the early winter air as the witcher roused himself. Still sitting in his bed, he turned and scooted to the windowsill, peering at the courtyard below.
Ah, fuck. Geralt’s morning arousal became actively invested in the sight that met him. Eskel had a stack of freshly chopped logs at his side, with one propped up atop a large stone. Geralt could see his muscles strain against the thin linen of his shirt as he swung the sharp ax high over his head, its honed edge glinting with the emergence of the sun as it met its apex, only to fall again with breathtaking force. The log split in two, and Eskel gathered the halves off to the side, stacking them neatly with the others on a long piece of thick canvas with handles on either end.
The ax found a resting spot for a moment as Eskel wiped the sweat from his brow. Geralt set his chin in his hands and his elbows on the edge of the windowsill and held in a low groan. Eskel had reached for the neck of his tunic and lifted it up over his head, revealing the olive-toned flesh of his stomach and the dark curls of hair over his chest that drew a delicious line below the band of his trousers. It was clear he’d been the first to return to Kaer Morhen. A comfortable roll of belly fat protruded from the confines of his belt, proof he’d had plenty of time to rest and indulge over the past weeks. His skin shone with perspiration and his thighs flexed and pushed at the fabric when he lifted another heavy log onto the chopping stone. Hells, the haphazard seam of one of the trouser legs was coming loose as his thigh threatened to free itself.
Eskel breathed in and swung again, driving the ax all the way through the thick log in a single stroke. As the two halves hit the ground he turned, dropping the ax and facing the little patch of green that remained before the frost. Lil’ Bleater was happily bounding through the grass, pouncing off of crates and rubble like it was her sole duty in life. Eskel smiled wide as Geralt did the same from his perch. The sun glinted off of Eskel’s back, dancing over the drops of sweat that dripped into the hollows of his muscles. Geralt swallowed thickly, unable to look away when Eskel’s arms came up to sweep the hair out of his face. The muscles of his shoulders and down the line of his spine flexed and shifted beneath his olive skin as he moved his hands to his hips.
“Alright, Bleats,” Eskel laughed as she came bounding over to his feet. He leaned down and offered a few sweet pats to the top of her head, “Think we’ve given Geralt enough of a show?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a cheeky grin to where Geralt was watching from the window, jaw agape and gobsmacked. The goat bleated as Eskel turned back and waved, and Geralt truly couldn’t help the smile that crept up his face if he tried.
“Fuckin’ tease,” Geralt grumbled half-heartedly as he watched Eskel drape his tunic back over his head. He was picking up the straps to the carrier for the firewood when Geralt finally tore himself away from the window, willing himself calm.
It only took a moment of deep breathing and a lifetime’s worth of practice, but Geralt soon found himself presentable to pleasant company. He threw on his usual winter attire, soft trousers and an even softer loose-fitting tunic tucked into the waist of his pants, his lined boots, and his cloak thrown over his shoulder. He tied his hair back off his face and let the rest hang on his shoulders in long silver waves. Finally, Geralt grabbed his swords and scabbards before heading down the stairs to the small kitchen space.
As expected, Vesemir was there with a steaming mug, poring over a book that was almost certainly older than Geralt himself.. He grabbed an apple and plopped down on the bench next to Vesemir, the both of them wordlessly grunting a greeting at the other. Geralt ate in relative silence for a bit, only the latent thrumming of the older Witcher’s heart and the crackling of embers in the fire accompanying the crunch of apple between his teeth.
That is, until Eskel butted open the doors to the hall and dragged his firewood haul in with him. Lil’ Bleater was riding the pile of wood like a pirate would her ship, the stack being almost as high as Eskel’s shoulders. Speaking of Eskel’s shoulders, Geralt couldn’t tear his eyes away from the visible line of sweat that trailed its way down his back, darkening the linen of his shirt and making it stick in all the most tempting places. He felt his mouth water at the sight and the piece of apple still in his mouth felt thick and hard as he choked it down.
Eskel grunted as he got close enough to the fireplace to relinquish his load, letting the heavy pieces fall haphazardly as he dropped the canvas sheet. The apple slipped from Geralt’s hand and bounced on the table before falling to the floor. “Dammit,” he growled, pointedly ignoring the disappointed sigh that escaped Vesemir’s nostrils.
He picked the fruit up and dusted it off, slicing off another piece as Eskel approached the table. Eskel smelled...like he needed a bath. Salt and sweat clung to his skin and wood dusted the strands of his hair, but he still carried that deep, musky, earthy scent that shone with a hint of citrus. It was the scent that kept Geralt awake at night, kept him sane on the Path. It was everything.
Eskel reached over and plucked a handful of dried fruits and nuts, as well as the jar of honey. He dropped the fruits and nuts into a bowl and carefully swirled a generous portion of honey over top. His fingers shone with the golden, sticky sweetness as he grabbed a dried grape and popped it between his lips. The scar turned his mouth upwards at the edge and pulled oddly at his lip while he ate. Geralt remembered how long it took for Eskel to be comfortable eating in front of him again after he got that scar, and he treasures every moment that he gets to see.
“Geralt?” Vesemir peered over his mug at him.
Geralt hummed in response, already dreading the day’s assignment.
“Oh don’t give me that. I need you to go out and put salt on the training grounds before the dirt frosts, and freshen up the wards around it. I don’t need the goats going in and licking it all up again. After that, the day’s yours.”
“And me?” Eskel asked around his mouthful.
“You can be done, you’ve already chopped enough wood to last us a good few weeks. I’ll get Lambert to-”
“NO. Don’t go giving my assignments before I even get to the table, old fart,” Lambert called down the stairwell.
Vesemir blinked slowly and sighed once more. “I’ll get Lambert to do SOMETHING ELSE today, though if you want something to keep busy, I’m sure there are some books that need rebinding.”
Geralt watched Eskel nod and swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Yeah, alright. I may take some time later and see what I can do about those books. Lay them out for me?”
“Of course.”
Eskel smiled over at Geralt, his deep amber eyes meeting Geralt’s sunrise gold. Geralt’s moon and stars rested in those eyes, a whole universe tucked away in the depths of Eskel’s soul, bared just for him. They smiled at each other before Geralt tore himself away, draping his cloak over his shoulders and striding quietly towards the door.
Eskel watched him haul the heavy bag of salt up onto his shoulder with a grunt. He shook his head with a smile and polished off the last of his breakfast. The stool scraped on the floor as he pushed away from the table, ready to go fall into a warm bed somewhere. Eskel heard the door shut from Lambert’s room as his feet pounded down the stairs, so he made haste in avoiding that breakfast discussion.
***
Why’s Geralt back outside?
Eskel rounded the corner of the staircases, following the fresh scent of Geralt trailing out to the courtyard. It was far past noon by this point, and Geralt had already taken care of the training grounds. He had come back in right as the sun reached its highest point in the sky, climbing the spiral stairs in search of a snack.
Eskel shouldered open the heavy wooden doors and turned to the east, following the light footprints over the balding grass. He smiled to himself as he heard soft whispers coming from the stables, low and not meant for anothers’ ears. Well, another human’s ears.
He stopped just short of the doors, now close enough to make out the words being murmured.
“-n’t give me that look, I was just wanting to braid your mane.” Geralt’s honeyed tenor drifted over the heartbeats and huffed breaths behind the stall. “I know Eskel doesn’t normally do it, but it’ll help keep it from matting over the winter. I bet you’d hate for our big softie to have to cut off old chunks of your mane, wouldn’t you?”
Eskel heard Scorpion huff heavily from his nose and he chuckled, pulling on the cool steel handle and closing the door behind him. The whispers stopped as Geralt peered over the short wall between the stalls, his hair shimmering golden with the light of the fire roaring in the fireplace. He held a hardy brush in his right hand and had his other resting lightly on Scorpion’s flank, and his hair was tied up high and away from his face.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Eskel rumbled, crossing to where he could see into Scorpion’s stall. He let his back hit the wall behind him and slid down, his bottom thumping audibly onto the ground.
“Just gonna sit there and watch me?” Geralt grumbled, resuming his brushing of Scorpion’s mane. The great warhorse stamped his foot impatiently, butting his head into Geralt’s chest.
Eskel quirked his brow and nodded, “Figured you wouldn’t mind after you ogled me this morning.”
The tips of Geralt’s ears flushed a pretty pink as he hummed noncommittally in his chest. Not denying it.
“Your man’s a smartass,” Geralt mumbled to Scorpion, and the horse fucking snickered, I shit you not.
“Ay,” Eskel laughed, watching a little smile threaten to pull at Geralt’s lips, “no need to turn my horse against me, I’ll need him come Spring.”
“Don’t wanna talk about Spring,” Geralt sighed, carefully running his fingers, long and delicate, so unlike Eskel’s, through the wispy strands of Scorpion’s mane.
“Me neither.” Eskel pulled up his knees and rested his elbows atop them, his eyes drifting down Geralt’s body. Gods, but he’s so gorgeous.
If you asked him, Eskel would say that he couldn’t pick a favorite part of his Geralt. Everything was his favorite, it was impossible to choose. But Eskel did have a favorite, and he very well kept it to himself, thank you very much.
That damned waist. The way that Geralt’s shoulders, broad and sharp, sloped in and down over his stomach and into a glorious handful for Eskel. Nothing about Geralt was dainty, not in the slightest, but Eskel loved that he could wrap his arm over the soft line of his waist in the dead of night, or grasp desperately onto it while lost in the throes of passion.
Eskel sat there quietly, listening to Geralt mumble to Scorpion while he busied his hands. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the idle sounds of the castle and nearby woods overtake his mind and senses. He could hear Lambert’s heavy footfalls from beneath the castle, down in the labs. A pack of wolves patrolled the treeline past the castle walls, jaws snapping as they called to each other under the low afternoon sun.
He heard Geralt’s footsteps grow close to him, stopping just where Eskel’s hips met the floor. Geralt’s fingers brushed gently through Eskel’s thick, dark hair and Eskel couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that spilled from his lips. Geralt chuckled and knelt at his side, running his hand down Eskel’s cheek and thumbing over the line of his brow.
“I know you went down to the springs and got clean earlier,” Geralt rumbled lowly, “but maybe you’d want to join me for a bit?”
Eskel smiled and opened his eyes, two golds meeting and melding into one. He nodded and Geralt leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. Geralt reached and grabbed onto Eskel’s hand, pulling him to stand and brushing the stray bits of straw from his backside.
Eskel chuckled as he batted Geralt’s hand away, though not before he got a solid squeeze in edgewise. “Hey, if you wanted to touch my ass, all you had to do was ask.”
Geralt shrugged as they walked through the doors to the castle and down the center spiral staircase that led to the hot springs, “I always want to touch your ass. Doesn’t really matter.”
Eskel shook his head and laughed heartily as he felt the air change. It felt thick, musty, warm with minerals and moss that grew in sharp brushstrokes up the walls. His lungs filled with the comfort of home, the air that was unique to this one spot of the castle, and only ever really meshed with his soul when Geralt was around to share in it.
He watched Geralt peel his shirt from his body, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dim caverns lit only by the stray candle or two sporadically placed in the cracks of the stones. Eskel reached out, his hand guided only by the raw urge to touch, to feel Geralt’s skin yield under his fingers, and he felt the warmth before he even made contact.
Geralt’s sigh tingled under his fingertips, vibrating through his bones with a summer long lost. Eskel stood flush to Geralt’s back, his hand resting over Geralt’s heart and his neck bent to rest his forehead at the nape of Geralt’s neck. He invaded Eskel’s every sense, every fiber of his being, just by existing in the same space. He smelled of sweat and horse and hay and happiness and home, and Eskel just wanted to...breathe him in. To take him into his lungs and never let him go. He felt Geralt’s fingers intertwine with his where they rested on Geralt’s chest, long and thin and pulling him up to Geralt’s lips. His lips were cool and chapped from the chill outside, but Eskel felt the warmth being pulled from his soul into the sweet press of Geralt’s lips.
“C’mon, let’s get into the baths,” Geralt mumbled, his lips still pressing into the pads of Eskel’s fingers. Eskel hummed noncommittally, honestly fine with just standing here, Geralt in his arms and close enough to finally feel. Geralt turned and stepped back, just out of Eskel’s reach with a grin as he reached for the ties on his trousers. “I’d like to get clean before I die of old age, so you best get naked.”
Eskel smirked and shucked his own shirt to the side, undoing the bright ties on his codpiece and letting the thick leather fall away. His trousers fell and were kicked away with his boots and the air embraced his skin with a welcoming grasp. He padded towards the pools, slipping into the water with a grateful sigh that one would expect from the sight of a long-lost friend.
He peeked over his shoulder and found Geralt standing where he was left, mouth slack-jawed and his hands hovering with his trousers half-undone. Geralt blinked and cleared his throat, adjusting himself through the leather of his trousers before untying them the rest of the way and letting them fall away. “I...it always surprises me just how much I can forget…”
Eskel crooked his head as Geralt stepped into the water beside him, rippling the waves over and up the stone sides. “What do you mean?”
“Just...you,” Geralt murmured, dipping under the water to soak his hair, “you are always so much more...real than I can ever keep in my mind. Whenever I think of you, it always pales in comparison to actually seeing you in front of me.”
Eskel felt his cheeks flush and he smiled, running his damp hands through his hair before lounging back into the edge of the pool. “I can never really get how you feel right. I know how good it makes me feel, but actually touching you? Or hearing your heart? My brain can’t replicate that. Not well enough, anyway.”
“Exactly. And it always is a bit of a shock. But a good one.” Geralt soaped up his hair quickly, batting away Eskel’s hands when he tried to help. “No, I want to get this part out of the way so we can relax. We can do that next time.”
Eskel thought back to a couple of winters prior, when Geralt had requested that he wash his hair for him. Albeit, with a bit of a caveat. Eskel spent an hour washing Geralt’s long, thick silver locks with his cock buried to the hilt in Geralt’s ass, the both of them gasping and clinging onto each other by the time his hair was rinsed. Eskel smiled at the memory as Geralt ducked back under the water, leaving his hair dripping wet and free of suds.
Geralt peered over at Eskel with a smirk playing at his lips as he reached his hand for Eskel’s thigh. He felt the muscle tense briefly under his fingers as he moved up slowly, his other hand sliding up and onto Eskel’s neck. Eskel sighed gently, a pull of air from deep in his lungs as Geralt played with the little curls of hair on the nape of his neck. Geralt’s hand moved over his hip, warm and soft and just a tad squishy beneath the water, and splayed over his stomach, tracing idle swirls through the hair that led down to his groin. Before he could get far, though, Eskel caught his errant hand with his own and brought them to his lips.
“We should eat first,” Eskel rumbled, his lips brushing the sensitive tips of Geralt’s fingers with every whispered word, “then I’d like to take you to bed properly.”
“Hmm,” Geralt traced down the scars on Eskel’s cheek and into his lip, watching the tiniest little shudder shoot over his nerves, “Lambert cooking tonight?”
Eskel nodded and ran his hands down Geralt’s spine and the swell of his backside. Not pushing or pulling with any direction, just feeling the skin that he so craved, even in his sleep. Geralt bent down, just barely pressing his forehead into Eskel’s and brushing their noses together. “You’ve kept me waiting all day,” Geralt sighed with a smile, “I suppose I could wait a bit longer. Not much though.”
Eskel chuckled and pecked Geralt on the cheek, “I promise. Once we’re both warm and comfortable and full, then I’ll take you upstairs and show you just how much I’ve needed you.”
“If you don’t let me go now, there’s no way I’ll be able to stop myself,” Geralt growled and nipped at Eskel’s chin. Eskel laughed and playfully shoved him back, watching the crystalline water drip down the dark hairs over his chest and into the dip of his waist. He had been feeling the stirrings of arousal all day, but it was getting more and more difficult to ignore.
Eskel followed Geralt as he clambered out of the springs, his hands and feet striking roughly against the weathered stone beneath them. He smirked at the quite obvious state of arousal that Geralt was in, his skin flushed and his cock straining upwards from between his thighs.
Geralt could feel Eskel’s eyes on him as he strode towards their pile of clothes and drying sheets. He peeked over his shoulder at him, finding Eskel hauling himself out of the bath with his arms, the muscles dipping and pulling as he rose to his full height, soaked to the bone and sporting a very pretty erection of his own. Geralt’s mouth watered as he wrapped a sheet to hang low on his hips before gathering his worn clothes into a bundle in his arms.
Eskel followed suit, feeling the drafty air whistle through his legs and cool the drips of water that still wore their path down to the floor below. They traveled through the halls together, still shoulder to shoulder even though the walls were just a tad too close together to accommodate them both comfortably. They didn't mind though, drawing their warmth together and letting their souls mingle in the approaching evening.
As they climbed the spiral staircase that led back to the main level of the keep, Eskel could smell the dinner that Lambert had been working on, something with chicken and hearty vegetables, along with bread and fresh butter and citrus chutney. They continued on up the stairs until they reached the door to Eskel’s chambers. They did typically end up sharing the room over the winter, but Geralt still liked to have his own little private space for himself. Eskel knew how loud the world could feel, and he liked having his own space too sometimes.
He kissed Geralt sweetly on the shoulder as he moved to continue up the stairs to his own room, leaving a tingle of his lips to keep him company. Geralt shook his head with a light hearted huff and slowly climbed up the spiral, and Eskel waited until he heard the heavy thud of his thick wooden door to open his own. He threw his clothes onto the chair by the fireplace before flicking his fingers out and up in the sign for Igni, feeling the warmth from the fire bloom from his palm and onto the wood, bathing the room in a pale glow.
Eskel dressed quickly, throwing soft trousers over his underthings, followed by a knit shirt that stretched across his chest and held tight. He left his swords propped by the door next to his boots before padding back down the stairs into the dining area. The three fires roared beneath bubbling pots and sizzling pans, sending rich scents swirling softly around the room. Lambert stood over one, giving it one last stir before grabbing onto the handles. Eskel lowered himself onto the bench at the table just as Lambert set the steaming cauldron down onto the nearly-black wood.
Vesemir grabbed the other pan and brought it over, lifting the lid to reveal several chicken breasts that had been seared and seasoned to perfection. Lambert began to ladle some of the stew from his pot onto his plate and tore a chunk of bread for himself before tossing the loaf to Eskel. It was warm in his palm and he smiled, the bread soft and yielding as he tore off some for himself as well. Vesemir declined, so he set the rest of the loaf in Geralt’s spot and began to heap his own plate with Lambert’s delicious looking dinner.
Geralt joined soon after they began to eat, dressed comfortably with his silvery hair pulled up and away from his face. Geralt swung his long legs over the bench and sat down next to Eskel, humming as he picked up the bread.
“Yeah, pretty boy, saved that bit for ya. Dig in before it all gets cold.” Lambert chucked the ladle down in Geralt’s direction, sending stray bits of stew flying to the walls. Vesemir rolled his eyes as Geralt caught it without looking and gave it a spin, rotating it flamboyantly around his fingers before plopping it straight into the great pot.
The four of them ate in relative silence, only the gentle scraping of utensils or grunts of acknowledgement breaking the fragile quiet. Vesemir was the first to be finished with his meal, leaning back in his seat and breathing in deeply. “Delicious as always, Lambert. Thank you. I'm headed to the library, gonna try and go through some of the old tomes.”
Lambert nodded and the others hummed, no one willing to part with their plates quite yet. Eskel wiped his plate down with the remainder of his bread, sopping up the stew and downing it all in one satisfying mouthful. Geralt watched with a raised brow and a smirk.
“Alright lovebirds, I’m off. Try to keep it down, at least a little, huh?” Lambert winked as he stood and wandered off, likely back down to the alchemy labs for more of his...experiments. Eskel chuckled as Geralt lobbed an old apple at the back of Lambert’s head, more for effect than anything else. Lambert batted it away into a corner and Eskel sighed. He stood and retrieved it, knowing that it would be long forgotten if he didn’t. He set it back onto the table before stretching his arms up above his head and turning to the door that led to the staircases.
Eskel held his hand out to Geralt, who looked at it through hooded lids. “Join me?”
Geralt smiled and lept to his feet, the last few bites of his dinner instantly forgotten. “Fuckin’ finally, you tease.”
Eskel laughed as the two of them bumbled up the stairs and into Eskel’s room. Geralt could feel the warmth emanating before they even swung open the door, his cheeks flushing and his arms shivering with the welcome change in temperature. Eskel shut the door behind him and led him to stand before the fireplace, his olive skin glowing in the flames.
Geralt sighed as he felt Eskel’s hands on his hips, his fingers toying with the hem of Geralt’s shirt and just glancing to the skin of his stomach beneath. Eskel slid his hands up and pulled Geralt’s shirt with him, lifting it over his head and letting it land with a soft thud in the cushy armchair in the corner.
Next Eskel moved to Geralt’s trousers, sliding the ties open and letting them fall to the floor. He gave Geralt’s bum a little pat and nodded to the bed. “Go on, I’ll be just behind you.”
Geralt reached to push down his smalls but Eskel caught his hands and dropped them back by his side. “J-just wanna hold you for a bit...that okay?”
Geralt hummed, pressing his lips to the junction between Eskel’s neck and shoulder, “Of course, Wolf. Don’t take too long though, gonna get cold without you.”
Geralt smiled as he climbed onto the wide bed draped in thick furs and soft knit blankets. Eskel loved textures, and tried to surround their bed with as much comfort as he could find. His golden gaze found Eskel once more as he too stripped down to his smallclothes. Geralt leaned back onto the soft pillows as Eskel slid up next to him, resting his head on Geralt’s chest and breathing in deeply. Geralt wrapped his arm around the breadth of Eskel’s shoulders and held him close, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his side. Geralt could see out of the little window cut into the stone, revealing the sun setting in bright oranges and deep purples between the craggles of the Blue Mountains.
Eskel ran his hands down Geralt’s chest, tracing those same swirling patterns as before while he peppered kisses up and down the line of Geralt’s neck and over his collarbone. Geralt could always feel the little crook in Eskel’s lip from his scar as it traced over his skin, grounding him home in warm arms and soft eyes that held endless love and patience.
Geralt threaded his fingers into Eskel’s hair and gave a little scratch at the nape of his neck, chuckling a bit when he felt the full body shudder that Eskel granted him. Geralt felt the gasp of hot breath ghost over his collar when he tugged gently on the handful of hair that he had, and a possessive kind of growl erupted from behind his teeth. Geralt didn’t often let this part of himself show, this need to hang onto every thread of his partner, but with Eskel, it felt safe, known, instinctual.
Eskel pushed himself up and pressed his hand firmly in the center of Geralt’s chest, breathing with the steady thuds of the heart that rested just beneath his fingers. Eskel’s eyes were dark with lust and hunger and something so deep and innate that it escaped such a simple name. Eskel slid his hand up and wrapped it gently around the back of Geralt’s neck and leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as he climbed between Geralt’s legs.
Geralt lifted his leg and wrapped it around Eskel’s hip in an attempt to get him to maybe speed things up a bit. “Eskel,” Geralt hummed, “Gods, you’re killing me…”
Eskel smiled and ran his nose down the line of Geralt’s jaw and into the hollows of his neck. His lips traced along the tendons and veins and his teeth just barely glanced over his pulse point and Geralt felt his cock thicken and throb where Eskel pressed into him.
“Can I have you like this?” Eskel asked, his voice still muffled in Geralt’s neck, “Just wanna be able to look at you…”
Geralt swallowed thickly and nodded, turning his head in search of Eskel’s mouth. He finally, finally, slid their lips together, breathing each other in and holding onto each and every piece that they could reach. Geralt wrapped his arms around Eskel’s waist and stroked up and down the hard lines of his back, tracing the scars he knew better than his own.
“Lift-nng” Eskel tried to say, though Geralt nipped and tugged at his lower lip to keep him in place, “Lift your damn hips, you great oaf.”
Geralt chuckled and did as he was bid, letting Eskel run his fingers through the ties keeping his braies on and loosening them. They slid down his thighs and Eskel let him rest his bum back on the bed. Eskel shimmied himself backwards and fully pulled the smalls off of Geralt, sending them careening through the room to land somewhere in the shadows. Geralt’s cock lay hard and flushed and weeping on his stomach and Eskel took a deep breath in through his nose, grounding himself in the lust on the air and the taste of Geralt already on his tongue.
Eskel stood up and turned to face the fire as he undid his own smalls, pushing them down quickly and without any dramatics. But Geralt found himself drooling over him anyways, seeing the beautiful bronze skin revealed inch by glorious inch, the swells of his backside just begging for his teeth to sink into. Again. He then grabbed the little vial of oil that spent most of the year gathering dust on the mantle, but in the winter found a new home atop the little table next to their bed.
And oh fucking shit I’ve missed that so much, Geralt thought as Eskel turned back to him with his cock hanging heavily between his thighs. Eskel crawled onto the bed and prowled over top of him, his chest already heaving and pressing into Geralt’s. Eskel sat up on his knees and Geralt braced himself on his elbows, watching Eskel uncork the oil and slowly drip a generous amount of the cool liquid onto their cocks where they rested together. Eskel’s hand was warm when he reached down to rub the oil around, wrapping around them and tugging and pulling and-
“-Fuck, Eskel,” Geralt spat through grit teeth when Eskel just barely thumbed the slit of Geralt’s cockhead. “If you’re gonna do all that shit, I need you in me now.”
Eskel laughed breathily and kissed Geralt hard, all teeth and tongue and rushed whispers of affection. “Alright, alright. I’ve got you, Geralt. I’ve got you…”
Eskel poured some more oil between Geralt’s legs and Geralt felt it slowly trickle down to his entrance. Eskel’s fingers followed soon after, languidly rolling his balls around in his palm before trailing down between his cheeks. Geralt sighed as Eskel started pressing around his hole, not pushing in yet, just massaging and loosening the tight muscle.
“Gods, Geralt,” Eskel murmured, dragging his free hand down Geralt’s flank and across his stomach, “you’re so tense…”
“No one’s been back there since Spring, Esk…”
Eskel blinked up at him and Geralt could taste the new wave of arousal that poured off Eskel. “You’ve not had anyone? All year? Geralt, I...you-”
Geralt’s head hit the pillow and he sighed, trying desperately to put the words together in his head. “I-fuck, Eskel, I just want you. You’re...you’re the only one who I can...who I can be comfortable with.”
Eskel surged forward and captured Geralt’s lips between his own, tasting of salt and honey and fucking unending love. “Geralt. Fuck. You can’t just say shit like that out of nowhere. Fuck, I love you so much it hurts. It fucking hurts, and then you just go and say that? You’re gonna put me in an early grave-”
Geralt’s world twisted and turned as Eskel’s hands gripped onto his hips, his fingers digging into his skin as they rolled and shifted on the bed, winding up with Geralt laying on his stomach and Eskel’s lips pressing into the skin at the nape of his neck. Eskel dragged his mouth down, leaving hot wet kisses down Geralt’s spine and over the swell of his bottom.
Eskel’s breath ghosted over Geralt’s skin as he slid his finger back down to press against his entrance, finding only a gasp of resistance as he pushed in to his knuckle. He worked Geralt open slowly, kneading and licking and nipping the soft flesh of Geralt’s ass while he slid in another, and then one more finger. He relished the little noises that clawed their way out of Geralt’s chest unbidden, gasps and moans and keens that he felt more than heard.
Meanwhile Geralt was warring with his own mind, torn between wanting so desperately to grasp into Eskel’s hair and haul him back up to feel his lips cover his own, trailing down over his jaw and neck and chest, but also needing to feel more of him, deeper, harder-
Their words broke off between gasps for air and fisted sheets and Eskel quietly continued his task of working Geralt open on his fingers. Geralt’s breath hitched in his throat when Eskel crooked his fingers inside of him, warm and slick and hitting up against that devastating bundle of nerves. But all too soon it was not so nice, his fingers sliding in and out and not being close to enough for Geralt. “M-shit, more, Eskel.”
Eskel hummed and bit down into the tender flesh of Geralt’s bum, feeling the fluttering of his walls play at his fingers. He looked down and watched his fingers slowly slide in and out, stretching him in preparation of what was to come. Eskel had his own wars inside of his head, his need to shower Geralt with soft touches so rarely afforded to his battle-worn skin clashing against the feeling tugging behind his belly to find the breaking point nestled so deep inside of Geralt’s body.
Geralt’s hips thrusted softly against the bed beneath them, chasing the release that had been teasing at them both all damn day. Eskel chuckled when a particularly hard thrust made him bonk his nose into the crease of Geralt’s asscheeks, and he shifted himself to sit up with a sweet pat to the swells of muscle.
“Roll back over, wanna look at you-”
Geralt sighed when he felt Eskel’s fingers slip out of him, leaving him oddly empty and aching and wanting. It took him a moment to find his bearings, but he flipped over soon enough to meet Eskel’s fiery eyes. Eskel hovered over him, his chest heaving with hot breaths and his medallion clinking against Geralt’s. Geralt ran his fingers through the soft dark hair over Eskel’s chest, pressing his fingers into the yielding flesh over his heart and giving it a squeeze. Eskel growled with a sinister grin and moved faster down his body than Geralt had anticipated.
Eskel leaned down and lapped his tongue up the underside of Geralt’s cock just as he slipped his fingers back into him. Geralt shook when Eskel wrapped his lips around the tip and sunk down, teasing and licking while his fingers hit that precious bundle of nerves nestled so deep inside of him. Eskel’s mouth moved with his hand, pushing in and out and up and down and humming against him and Geralt could feel the pearly arousal dripping onto Eskel’s tongue with every slick slide of his lips.
“Ah, ah, Esk-g...gonna-fuck...”
Eskel only hummed, low and hard from his chest, and Geralt arched up off the bed in pleasure when Eskel zeroed in on that spot within him, holding there and sucking and slurping every bit of spend that Geralt had to give. It just kept coming, shooting down Eskel’s throat and spilling out the sides of his lips messily. Eskel felt the haze of his own pleasure tease at the edges of his eyes as his hips thrust lazily against the bed, his free hand holding tight to Geralt’s hip.
Geralt sagged back onto the bed in a haze, tender and sensitive and already craving more. He pulled Eskel back up to him and ran his thumb over the corner of his mouth, gathering his own spend onto his finger. Geralt slipped his thumb between his lips and licked it clean as Eskel watched with great gasping breaths and eyes so dark there was only a little ring of gold shining in the night.
“Geralt, fuck, c-can I-” Eskel stuttered over his words, his hands running over Geralt’s shoulders and down his chest, his cock dripping down into the hair above Geralt’s own half-hard cock.
“Yes,” Geralt breathed and fit his hand up onto the nape of Eskel’s neck, his fingers pressing firm while Eskel shifted on the bed to line himself at Geralt’s entrance.
Eskel gasped into Geralt’s skin as he just barely pushed into the rim, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist to hold him as close as possible. Geralt’s fingers tightened in Eskel’s hair as he started to gently thrust inside of him, Eskel’s chest rumbling with a low purr as he smothered Geralt with his body.
“G-Geralt,” Eskel murmured, his hips already losing rhythm, “I’m, fuck you’re so-”
Geralt hummed and nodded, running his hands down Eskel’s shoulders and back up again around his neck. “Go on, Eskel. You’ve been on edge all day. Give it to me.”
Eskel’s voice went high and strained, tight mumbles escaping from between his teeth as he ground his hips deep against Geralt’s, spending inside of him. Eskel rubbed his face into the tender skin of Geralt’s neck as he finally, gloriously released into him, feeling the way that he fluttered and flexed around his cock. He saw great stars shooting behind his eyelids as his climax tore through him, unrelenting and all-encompassing.
Geralt kept his hold firm on Eskel as he went limp in his arms, Eskel’s mind blanking and blind for a blissful moment. Geralt felt the pressure of Eskel everywhere, on top of him, around him, inside of him, leaking out of him. The only thing that could ever gather him enough strength to move was Eskel himself, and he didn’t really seem up to that quite yet.
Or, well, maybe he did. Eskel didn’t even soften a little bit in Geralt, his hips already rolling deep and slow inside Geralt. His bones sang out to Eskel in ecstasy, yearning for him, craving him.
Geralt’s cock rested hard once more on his stomach, steadily dripping his arousal into a little pool. Eskel’s hands tightened on his hips and pulled him into each and every thrust, slow and hard and deep and addicting. Eskel couldn’t keep his hands still as he dragged his cock inside of Geralt, only just barely shifting back and forth as he tried to stay buried in his tight, wet heat as much as possible.
“Ger-nnng,” Eskel gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the pressure of Geralt around him clench and smother every last bit of him with every soft move of his cock. Geralt smirked and bore down farther, tightening his hold on Eskel’s arm and around his neck as he pulled him down so that their faces were held with only the space of a breath between them.
Geralt could feel the tight coil of release draw taut as he dragged his hands down Eskel’s chest and to his own cock. Eskel’s eyes followed him, branding his skin with the fire behind them, watching as Geralt took himself in hand. Geralt shuddered as his climax came closer and closer into view, only needing just a little more, a little something to push him over the edge-
“Fuck, Geralt, I...I can’t hang on much longer…” Eskel ground out, brushing his nose down over Geralt’s and pleading with his eyes.
“Let go, Eskel. I want it, please-”
And then he did. Eskel thrust hard and deep a handful more times as he hit his peak, his cock pressing against that devastating bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of Geralt each and every time. Oh, and then when his release finally overtook him once more? Gods, his cock flexed and spilled and hit Geralt like a punch in the gut over and over and over, until finally Geralt too climaxed with his cock in his hand. Long stripes of spend spilled and painted his chest while Geralt groaned from low in his stomach.
The two of them laid there for Gods know how long, just lingering in each other, the scent of their combined arousals making them feel almost drunk from the heady way it went straight through them. Eskel was the first to move, slipping from the tight embrace of Geralt’s body and flopping down onto the bed at his side. Geralt reached out and tangled their fingers together while their chests heaved in great gulps of air, their minds still addled and off-kilter.
Eskel swallowed thickly and focused his mind on the feeling of Geralt’s thumb running over the back of his knuckles, back and forth and back again… “Gods, Geralt,” he murmured, peering over at him, “I’ll never get tired of that.”
Geralt chuckled without opening his eyes, already feeling the threads of consciousness being steadily pulled from him. “You better not. I plan on getting fucked like that until I die.”
Eskel hummed and reached out blindly with his free hand, groping for the spare scrap of cloth that he kept by the bed. Once he found the soft fabric he gently swept it up over Geralt’s stomach and chest, feeling the vibrations of his hum beneath his fingers. Eskel reached back between Geralt’s thighs and cleaned there as well, knowing that although Geralt would never really say anything about it, he wouldn't enjoy being sticky in the morning.
Eskel tossed the rag away and shifted underneath the blanket, reaching out to pull Geralt into his chest. “C’mere, you. Wanna hold you.”
Geralt grunted and rolled over onto his side, burying his face into the hair on Eskel’s chest. Eskel wrapped his arm around Geralt’s waist and held him close, pressing his nose into the silver hair atop Geralt’s head. Woodsmoke, spice, pine. Home.
Geralt sighed into him and wrapped his own arm around Eskel, snuggling in and quickly letting sleep take him away. Eskel felt the shift, the way that Geralt’s shoulders relaxed and his hips fell further into the bed, his mind finally quiet and his hands still. He pressed his lips softly to the crown of Geralt’s head and held it there for a heartbeat or two, pouring everything he could into those soft moments before he himself fell into the warm embrace of sleep.
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restlesswasteland · 3 years
Text
Miserables Month Day 2: "Fire"
Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth This is set in the weird zombie apocalypse AU that lives rent free in my mind. Electric heat, he should’ve said earlier. He frowns as he pokes at the embers with a stick. The nights are getting colder and he isn’t sure how much longer they can last out here. They’ll have to move faster if they’re going to make it south before the winter.
After suppressing another shudder, Enjolras decides it’s worth adding another log and risking someone seeing the fire. If he’s going to die out here (who am I kidding, when I die out here) he’s going down fighting- not blue-lipped and frostbitten.
Or maybe he should’ve said his bed. His apartment. Four walls and a roof. Or maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
--- “Cigarettes,” Grantaire declares, looking into the fire they’re sitting around. “God, what I’d do for a fucking cigarette.”
“And booze,” Bahorel tacks on. “And this shit doesn’t count.” He takes a sip from the jar of guerilla moonshine that the two of them concocted when the group made their last food run through some suburban wasteland.
“I’ll drink to that,” Grantaire smirks. Bahorel passes the jar.
Enjolras tries to tune them out as he tends to the fire. With all of them awake, it’s safe enough to let it grow a little larger. He focuses on adding a log, poking it into the right position to catch.
“Grocery stores. I’m. So. Hungry.” Gavroche is all melodrama. “Hungry all the fucking time.”
“Language,” Eponine shoves his shoulder with her foot. He wrinkles his nose at her.
“But Grantaire just-“
“What about you, Ferre?” Eponine interrupts Gavroche’s protest.
Combeferre looks back at her for a long moment, his face characteristically stoic. “My books,” he finally decides.
Eponine snorts. “Jesus fuck, you’re in a goddamn apocalypse straight out of a bad 80’s Sci-Fi movie and you miss your books. Of course you do. Why did I even ask?” She laughs. Combeferre looks back at her, but betrays himself with a small smile.
Enjolras just breathes. He counts to ten. He listens to the sounds of the woods around them. Nothing unusual. It comforts him.
“I miss running water,” Courfeyrac says forlornly. With his head in Combeferre’s lap, he looks up into the night sky. “I’m a slut for a hot shower, what can I say?”
Bahorel groans. “I’m changing mine. I’d kill for a real shower.”
“Okay, Ep, your turn. What do you miss most?” Grantaire looks across the fire at her.
“Orgasms,” Eponine just smiles shamlessly.
“Ew.” Gavroche pulls a face.
“And I mean real ones. Sex. Not five minutes in the bushes by myself. Or at least some fucking batteries to help a girl out.” Grantaire laughs as Gavroche starts retching.
“’Ponine,” Gavroche whines.
“Shut up,” Eponine rolls her eyes.
“What about you, Enj?” Courf asks.
Enjolras bites the inside of his cheek. He’s tried to let them have their fun; he really has. No point in ruining it now.
“I don’t miss anything,” he says, not taking his eyes off the fire. It’s quiet for a moment.
“You must miss something,” Bahorel prods. Enjolras just shakes his head.
Not one for tact, Gavroche snorts. “Must be real fuckin dirty or something.”
“Gav-“ Eponine glares at him.
“I don’t miss anything because that’s a waste of my energy.” Enjolras says. “It’s dangerous. If I start letting myself miss something, thinking about everything I used to have, it’ll make me nostalgic. Miss the fucking ‘before times.’ I’ll realize I have nothing to live for except another day of this. Survival will only be rewarded with more survival. It’s akin to giving up. Everything you miss is gone, and it’s never coming back.”
He takes a breath, looks around at the faces starring back at him across the fire. Varying levels of surprise. Enjolras distantly realizes that his breathing is ragged. Courf sits up.
“Enj-” he tries. Enjolras abruptly stands, sparks flying as he drops his stick in the fire.
And then he turns on his heel and stalks off.
---
He keeps poking at the fire. At this point he’s probably doing more damage than anything, but he needs something to do to keep him awake.
He’d insisted that he be on watch when he returned. Combeferre tried to argue, but Enjolras took the childish way out. He sat down next to the fire. He refused to move.
Time passes in a strange way out here. Leaps and bounds one moment, nearly at a standstill the next. He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears footsteps. He doesn’t turn, knows the steps are too loud, too deliberate to be danger.
He isn’t surprised when Courfeyrac sits down next to him. They sit there silently for a while. Enjolras pokes needlessly at the fire.
“Enj-”
“Please don’t,” Enjolras interrupts him for the second time tonight.
“Enjolras.” Courfeyrac’s tone is not unkind. Enjolras doesn’t turn to him.
And then there is a hand on his cheek, gentle. Courf has always been so gentle. He presses softly, and Enjolras complies, turning to meet his gaze.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“I’m fine,” Enjolras insists.
“That’s not an answer.” Enjolras stays quiet, so Courf continues. “You’ve been on watch for the past three nights. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“Can’t sleep anyway,” Enjolras admits.
“You have to take care of yourself. You can’t be tired out here. Not like this.”
Enjolras knows he’s right.
“This is dangerous,” Courfeyrac presses on. “For all of us.”
Enjolras keeps worrying the inside of his cheek.
“You need to sleep. Please. If not for you, then for the rest of us.”
Enjolras huffs a little. “You really know how to get under my skin, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Courfeyrac drops his hand from Enjolras’s cheek, offers him a smile. “I do.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” Enjolras sighs. “I don’t.”
They sit quietly for a moment. Enjolras continues to listen to the sounds of the woods.
“Sleep,” Courf presses. “Long day tomorrow. We need to keep moving south.”
“Right,” Enjolras says, standing. He hands Courf his stick. “Keep the fire going. It’s getting colder,” he tells him.
“I will,” Courfeyrac promises.
Enjolras barely manages sleep that night. He tosses and turns, stares blankly into the dark. But eventually he falls into something fitful that one might call sleep.
When he wakes, there are hints of daylight. He hears the others starting to rise, packing up their sparse belongings. He emerges from his tent.
The fire is dead.
And it’s time to move on.
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sopxhiea · 4 years
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Wicked
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Alfie Solomons X Reader
Enemies to Lovers!
Warnings: Large age gap.
Summary: Y/N and Alfie keep their relationship under the sheets until another familiar face emerges, the dangers of being with each other prevail. 
Part 1 | Part 2
"Were you jealous?" "No... maybe..."
“You grow on people, but so does cancer.”
The sound of paper shuffling fills the coffee smelling room, the windows are sealed shut. The oak walls are new, something done in addition to the decor in the office. There’s no record playing like there usually is, it’s a quiet day.
And there’s you.
There is a book in your hand, underlining your hearty attempt to do as little work as possible. It’s summer, the birds are chirping and the kids are running around. You’re on your last pile of papers, then you’ll be out.
The coffee is not cold, somewhere in the lukewarm area while your eyes catch a bird in the sky from the window next to your desk. Your floral dress is not usual attire, you’re not the one for girly things but it’s something he’s bought you.
Your head has been in the clouds, you think.
You have things to blame: work, your brother, business associates and the incoming season but you of all people know that the main reason for your distracted state is somewhere in Camden town shouting at his men for a small error.
There’s another appointment today, as your assistant tells you while you try your best to keep up the focus. It’s the Shelby company. You nod, they’re not the most pleasant but you’ve seen worse. You ask your assistant to be present in the room when they arrive so that things are more in order and he nods.
The pages of the book find your fingertips once again, the windows are now open. The smell of coffee mixes in with the freshly bloomed flowers around the office’s window as you read, enjoying the brief moment of peace before it’s interrupted.
Your head goes where you tell it not to, the place where you relive the events of the past. It’s not that the events are unpleasant, it’s quite the opposite if anything which is why you can’t afford to go there during work. You try to keep the thoughts in the back of your mind but a few surface regardless of your effort.
You recall all the moments.
His name on your lips like a prayer while the walls of your room echo, the only thing that can be heard throughout the house is his skin against yours and the moans he bestows upon you each time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into his back, all he can feel is pleasure while you feel yourself find ecstasy in different forms.
There’s a loud knock on the door.
The Shelbys come in, they’re all in their casual attire but they can’t help to glance a look at you in a floral dress. You look much too picturesque for anyone’s seeing. 
“Mr. Shelby.” you say before sitting down, it’s him, Finn and Michael today. You give Finn a generous hug as an old friend and Michael watches, there’s an uncertain look in his eyes but you ignore the lad and sit down.
“Ms. Y/N.” he says before his lips meet a cigarette, the other boys just watch you as the conversation carries on.
Thomas says something about the deal your deceased father’s company has to do with you, you nod and scribble down a few notes as he speaks. It’s almost like a ritual, you’ve memorised the lines of professionalism no matter how tight your family once was with the Shelbys. It’s no longer a family you’re concerned with, it’s a business.
An hour like that passes, you bounce a couple ideas off of each other and ask Finn about how he had been doing. Michael doesn’t speak except a few times to make snarky remarks but you’re quick to shut him down with your wit. You do not cast a look at him for the rest of the talk.
The older one out of them says something about a marriage, how John and Esme had been happy from an orderly marriage and the importance of having a family of one’s own, especially when it comes to a woman. You don’t listen to what he’s saying up until he says the last part and that’s when you put your pen down and stare straight at Thomas, eyes not wavering in the slightest.
“What is it you came here to tell me, Thomas?” you say, loud and clear and you catch a look in Finn’s eye, one that makes you panic in the slightest.
“Our Michael here has taken a liking to you. Your age is close to his. The business and the families will also surely benefit from something of the sort.” he speaks and watches you laugh and it’s genuine. 
“So you’re saying I should marry your cousin, is that it?” you speak, bewildered at the thought but it somehow manages to amuse you, your assistant is listening the whole time while he stands next to you.
“I’m saying you should consider it, is all.” he says and you hear Micheal say a few words as well but your mind is way too blurry. You applaud the audacity Thomas has but the offer is much too rough and inconvenient.
Any girl would jump at the opportunity, you know. But you’re not any girl. You like the family, you’d known them for the longest time due to the family business you were involuntarily a part of. They’re ok people and the business would surely benefit from the finite alliance that would be formed.
But you find your heart to be somewhere else, in somebody else’s hands.
You dismiss the idea with the shake of your head and you see Finn beam up as you say no to the offer. He knows Michael won’t make you happy. You thank the Shelby family for the inappropriate offer and refuse to indulge. Thomas doesn’t seem too surprised but you find it hard to look past the disappointment in Michael’s face.
With a tight hug given to Finn as he whispers ‘good job’ into your ear for refusing his cousin, the office becomes empty again.
----
The room smells of flowers and rum, there are dried flowers in the vases, most of them are roses bought a week ago. The sound of shuffling in the sheets fill the room, it’s only your breathing against his for a second before you get up.
Your bare back is what he sees while your hair is in a low bun. He longs to caress your hair like he did a couple hours back but he knows your rules are the rules. They’re loud and clear and all he thinks of some days. 
A soft sigh leaves your lips, a dull ache is present between your legs while you walk around the room, his eyes drink your bare figure but he’s seen and done entirely too much for you to be embarrassed or feel the need to cover up at this point.
You avoid the thumping of your heart when you see the adoring look he’s giving you.
He’s mature and experienced enough to know that there were bound to be feelings forming after a while. He is to blame, mostly, or so he thinks. You’re young, beautiful, smart and witty and he knows that this was bound to be casual and still is but he finds himself craving you more and more each time.
It’s a cliche story, he says to himself while watching you put a robe on. 
He blames himself for falling for the trap. He’d been with many women, some in brothels and some in parties and nothing had mattered to him. There had been a couple memorable faces, ones he thought about but no one made his heart soar like you did, even though you were in front of him.
He’s heard about the offer from the Shelbys, maybe that’s why he thinks about you a lot more these days. When looked objectively, it’s none of Alfie’s business and he knows that. This is you, sleeping with the enemy and he applauds just how well you were able to hide everything, your tracks are impossible to trace back and no one knows you chant his name until you see stars most nights.
You catch the longing look he has in his eyes when you’re on the bed next to him once again. You sit up straight and face him as he leans back on the head of the bed. You raise your eyebrows, telling him to speak but you know him too well. He doesn’t need to say much.
“So you’ve heard?” you speak in the silent room once you’ve made a rough plan of how to handle things. You know he’s gotten attached to you despite this being an under-the-wraps thing, you have too.
“Heard what, luv?” he says, tugging at his beard while you eye his form that’s half covered with a white sheet. You offer him a smile, it’s not quite a grimace but he sees the sentiment and watches as you nod.
“Alfie...Don’t play dumb with me, please.” you speak, your voice is so soft that he feels his heart melt like butter at the last word. You look at him, like a little kid before he speaks.
“I have, yeah, Ollie told me about that fuckin’ Gray kid...” he speaks but his voice is soft despite his words. They don’t cut through you like glass but you feel a little hurt. He doesn’t seem to say what’s on his mind.
“And have you heard my answer?” you ask him and see a spark in his eyes. He stops cold at his tracks, hand no longer tugging at his beard but his sole attention on you. 
All that he’s heard is that Micheal wanted to marry you, there was no answer given in what Ollie had told him. He’d assumed you’d said yes and that this was maybe one of the last times you were letting him in between your sheets.
He shakes his head.
“I said no on the spot.” you say not looking at him but he makes his reaction known when a grunt of extreme approval leaves his lips. He feels himself cheer up, a weight leaves his shoulders and you meet his eyes at last.
You see the real him, vulnerable.
“Good.” he says, nonchalant about it the second after but you catch something in his eye that tells you he’s happy, he looks relieved. 
You then decide to test the waters, finding no harm in indulging in a little playful behaviour, mostly because he’s recovering from the happiness of you not marrying someone, let alone someone from the Shelby clan. 
"Were you jealous?"  You speak and watch a smile form on his lips, he looks like he doesn’t care as he answers to you. He pauses for a while, then he speaks.
"No.........maybe..." he says while a whole hearted chuckle leaves your lips. He watches as you laugh and not make a deal out of it. You like that he cares, even though it’s the one thing you’d agreed not to do. 
It was undeniable, that this whole arrangement is set in dangerous waters. You were fond of him, had always been and letting him worship you in the bedroom just made it worse for you. You had your borders built, steel walls that would not melt.
But they were melting, slowly.
At times, it was his smile and the way he said your name, you felt yourself melt inside. Your skin against his as he caressed your knee under the table when you ate together, even though no one was around to witness the occasion.
You threw yourself onto the bed, your hair creating a contrast with the white sheets while Alfie practically swooned at the sight. He leaned against the headboard, a lazy smile on his lips while you chuckled at his words lightly. He lets himself get carried away, like most times when he’s with you.
And he forgets that actions have consequences at that moment.
--------
The inside of the closet is small, there’s a faint light coming from one corner that’s not fully shut. You hold your breath while the sound of talking slowly fades away. Your legs hurt from standing but you don’t complain, you can’t have the risk of someone hearing.
It’s the usual story.
It’s a Tuesday afternoon where you found yourself in Alfie’s office, on top of his desk as he planted all kinds of kisses on your neck to be specific. The deed is done until someone walks in, someone other than his assistant and you panic, resulting in you hiding in the closet next to the door where they hang the coats. 
You hear the light footsteps leave while Alfie’s heavy thuds follow him until the door is closed. The doors of the closet open then, you blink a few times to adjust to the light and he watches you as you get used to the surroundings once again.
“I thought he was never going to leave.” you speak into the room, Alfie’s both embarrassed and happy at once.
He hates that he has to hide the most beautiful girl from the world and the relationship he has with her, if he has one at all. His love is domestic, he wants to show you off in his arm and sleep in with you. He finds himself daydreaming about how wonderful it would be just to be carefree, not be alarmed all the time in the case of someone seeing you two together.
But he’s the enemy. And it seems as though that isn’t going to change any time soon.
“Tha’ fucker is way too talkative for his own good, luv.” he says, amused at his words while he watches you sit down on the chair in front of his desk.
“He stayed for over and hour.” you speak while shaking your head, putting one of your legs on top of the desk while rubbing your knee to give some sort of relief from standing too much but your hands are no good for a massage. 
So then, he sits next to you and takes your leg on his knee, slowly massaging his way up and down while you watch. He seems nonchalant about the act of kindness while his hands slowly caress the soft skin of your thigh and he feels you flinch at the discomfort caused by standing up for too long.
“It’s alright, yeah.” you hear him speak, it’s almost a coo like he was speaking to a baby and even though you ate being babied, you don’t speak.
You smile at him, it’s far too genuine for him to ignore and he stares at your lips as you speak, he finds himself far too deep in the hole of love for you. “You grow on people, but so does cancer.”
He smiles at first and then it turns into a hearty chuckle and you watch, feeling yourself to be too attached to the man before you. You know the rule, you’d set it up yourself. 
Don’t fall in love with him.
But there he is giving you a gentle massage for no reason while mumbling something about the museum he went to as a kid. He says something about a painting and you hold onto the meanings but your head is far too gone. He switches the topic to the train tracks around but you don’t quite follow.
You know there are borders. He’s significantly older and a family enemy. You’d heard way too many things from one too many people about how terrible this bear of a man was but you can’t ignore but notice just how gentle he is to the ones that matter.
You murmur as he watches you with wide eyes. “Thank you.” And you put your foot on the floor, it’s no longer in between his hands. You know the massage is not done and neither is the make-out session you were having before someone decided to barge in but it needs to be.
He’s the enemy, you remind yourself.
You put your coat on and fix yourself up a little before facing him, realising that you’d lost some good time waiting for that man to leave but there are more important things to discuss.
“Alfie...” his name leaves your lips and he leans against his desk, watching you as the chains along his thighs find their place once again.  “Do you want to keep doing this?” you ask, a part of you is scared but you need to know because you know both of you are in the edge. If this keeps going on, you’ll fall for him and he already has one too many dreams about you.
He tugs at his beard and the shade of blue in his eyes changes as he becomes serious. He knows you’re in the brisk of catching feelings and he already has. He also happens to realise that this was the one thing you asked from him, that he wouldn’t fall for you.
It was fun at first, he thinks. He didn’t mind that you weren’t in his bed the next day or that there was no sign of you after the sex. But then you’d made him breakfast and met Cyril, you’d stayed for a while after you’d been with him and laughed at his jokes and listened when he spoke, really listened.
He finds himself reliving the moments where the sunlight would illuminate your smile on the days where you’d scold him for not waking you up earlier. You’re far too young for him but that’s only on the age department since you’re maturer than anyone he’s known.
He wants to ask for more but he knows that’s not the deal he’s made with you. 
Your curious eyes ogle him as he thinks, he’s not getting to be with you due to the position you both are in so he thinks it’s best to settle for what he has with you right now. So he nods and starts speaking.
“If ya’ want to, right, things have been fuckin’ smooth..” he says as you watch him speak, his words are harsh this time as they cut through you. “...and I, right, haven’t fallen’ for ya’ like ya’ warned me about..”
He speaks in a less bothered manner but you can see through him, he’s saying the last part to convince himself, it’s not directed at you so you nod. He’s lying, you know it but he’s grown enough to admit that to himself, or so you figure and nod with a cheerful attitude, even though things are shattering inside your heart.
“Well, that makes the two of us then.” you speak but unlike him, you’re good at not being vulnerable when speaking and especially when it comes to him. He finds it hard to conceal his real feelings with you so he doesn’t but you do, and you’re damn good at it.
He stands there, stunned and hurt. You feel the same way, about everything, but you’re clever not to show any emotion. You want the same things as he did but you were far too clueless when you got into this meddle, thinking that it would be a simple exchange of sex and a couple shared meals.
It might be your inexperience, he thinks, that you offered the opportunity in the first place since arrangements like these usually end in disaster and rarely without someone getting hurt. He’s willing to hurt if it means that you’ll get out of this without the pain of utter heartbreak but what he misses to see is that you’ve already started falling for him.
You shake your head with a chuckle at his expression but there’s not much to be said. He knows the consequences, he always has. It’s not a question of ‘if’ you’re going to fall in love with him, it’s a case of ‘when’ on both parts and you know this dance is a dangerous one, all that does is attract you to the idea even more. 
You say the one thing that resides at the back of your mind each time you see him and he listens, nodding his head at your words while your soft voice fills the room.
“Don’t fall in love with me. That’s the only rule.”
And you’re out, leaving a confused and brokenhearted Alfie behind the now closed doors.
----
Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​ @bicevans​ @mollybegger-blog  @97freaknik.  @fuseburner  
a/n: Let me know what you thought of the chapter!!
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