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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

Road trip Rooster write it I dare you

....You come at me again with the daring. Based on this post

Also this got way away from me. Not beta-read.

Length: 7.6K

Warnings: Huddling for warmth in a cold car, slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, fluff, there was only one bed, friends to lovers, feelings of jealousy, explicit sexual content—vaginal sex, breast play

Rating: 18+ Only. Minors interacting with this work will be blocked.

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your best friend since you were kids. Have you been in love with him since you were sixteen? Sure. But he doesn’t know that.

“Big man, haaaaad to take his car.”

“Alright.”

“Never mind the fact that it’s like, 20 years older than he is—”

“Alright—”

“And has a soft top that leaks heat like a…”

You go quiet as Bradley arches his brows, waiting for you to finish your remark. When you don’t, he waves his hand, prompts:

“Like a…?”

“Like a heat-leaker.”

“Wow.”

“Shut up. I don’t have to be clever, I’m fucking cold.”

Bradley rolls his eyes, reaching into the backseat and drawing up a few blankets.

“We knew this might happen, we prepared,” He reminds you. “C’mon.”

You don’t gripe that prepared should’ve meant having enough gas to get you to the next town. You just huff as Bradley turns in his seat, swinging one of his legs up and pushing it across the console and behind you. You scooch across the console and lean back against his chest, drawing your legs up to stretch across the seats before holding still as he layers and tucks three blankets around your upper bodies. You want to argue further, but with the little cocoon he’s created, and the heat of his body behind you, you’re actually starting to warm up a little. Bradley slides his arms under the blankets to curl around your middle. You let your eyes slip closed, then squeeze a touch as he takes hold of your hands in his, rubbing them gently for warmth.

“If we got in the back and took the soft top down,” Bradley murmurs, “We could see the stars.”

“You can see them when I kick you out of the car.”

“You’d kick me out of my own car?”

“Yes I would, Mister ‘We Don’t Need to Stop at That Gas Station, We’ve Only Got a Little Ways Before the Next Motel’.”

“I miscalculated.”

“Damn right you did. Being on leave is making you sloppy—Ow!” You squeak, squirming as Bradley pinches your side. You elbow him in the side in turn, giggling as he tightens his grip on you.

“Get some sleep,” He urges softly. You huff through your nose, tipping your head back against his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck to warm the chilled tip of your nose.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I think I have a crick in my neck.”

“Oh, please.”

“Tell you what, the second I get cell reception again, I’m making an appointment for a chiropractor.”

Bradley doesn’t respond, just shovels a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewing slowly and watching you dispassionately. You can’t help but break into a smile the longer your stare-off goes, and you dip your head, stabbing at your pancakes as you hear Bradley chuckle across from you.

“Such a drama queen.”

“This from a man that talks to his car.”

“That’s not dramatic. That’s just polite.”

“It’s weird is what it is.”

“How are y’all findin’ everything?”

You glance up at the waitress’ question, offering a small smile and a, “It’s great, thanks,” As she tops up your mug of coffee, then shifts to fill Bradley’s. You make the mistake of glancing over at Bradley, and catching sight of him smiling up at her before he murmurs his thanks. You glance between him and the waitress before you force yourself to glance out of the window, taking a gulp of your fresh cup of coffee and trying to drown the jealousy bubbling up in you.

You really have no right to be jealous. Bradley Bradshaw has been your best friend since you were kids. Have you been in love with him since you were sixteen? Sure. But he doesn’t know that. How could he? You’ve never said a thing—you’ve never even hinted. You’ve had romantic relationships with other people. You’ve been telling yourself for the longest time that if you just ignore the feelings you have for him, they’ll go away.

So far, no luck. You can’t begrudge the guy some flirting, of course—he’s on leave, he’s relaxing. But hell, you don’t exactly like to watch.

“You ready to go?”

Bradley’s question jolts you from your moody window-watching, and you nod, setting your coffee mug down and scooching out of the booth. You shove your hands into your pockets and give the waitress a small smile (you can’t hate her; it’s not like she asked Bradley to make eyes at her over the dregs of your breakfast) before heading out of the diner. You’re only a step or two outside before Bradley flings his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You wobble a little, unable to help the way your smile widens as he keeps you close.

“You know where we’re goin’?” He asks.

“Uh-huh. You want me to drive?”

“I need a damn nap.”

“Now who’s being a drama queen?”

“I had a hike this morning to that gas station and back,” He reminds you.

“Mm, and why did you have to do that again?”

“Alright,” Bradley groans. He fishes into his jacket pocket and waits for you to hold out your palm before slapping his keys into it. You climb into the driver’s side, adjusting the seat and mirrors as you need before buckling up. You glance over, making sure that Bradley’s buckled in as well before you start the car. Bradley slouches down in the seat, drawing his discarded jacket up around himself as a blanket.

“We have real blankets.”

“This is already warm,” Bradley mumbles.

He’s asleep before you hit town limits. You stop at a red light and glance over, biting back a laugh. His sunglasses are askew; his mouth is wide open; his jacket is beginning to slip, showing the slope and bulge of his bicep. You reach out, gently adjusting the jacket around his shoulders before turning back to the road.

You’ve been doing these road trips every year since he enlisted. You fly to wherever he’s stationed and take his car from there. You’ve chosen different destinations every time, though it’s typically been a three day drive from whichever base he’s stationed at. If you guys take your time driving wherever it is, it eats up about a week and a half of his leave.

Of course, you keep in touch with Bradley no matter he’s stationed, but having this much uninterrupted time with him is both a blessing and a curse. You love your time with Bradley, of course—but you’re also in love with Bradley. You savor your time spent with him, and do your damndest to ignore the looks he gets from women, and the flirting and one night stands that he’s had in the past. You’ve had one night stands, sure, but never on these trips. He at least goes out of his way to go to their place. Still, it’s made some of your lonely nights in your cheap, cruddy motel room seem all the more cheap and cruddy.

He hasn’t gotten together with anyone on this trip. You’re a day away from reaching your destination; you’ll have three days in Portland, and then three days driving back. He’s got time.

The thought makes your stomach squirm with discomfort. You sigh softly, resting your head on your hand and peering out through the windshield, a single hand on the wheel. It’s a quiet stretch of road, and empty enough that you could floor it if you wanted to. You won’t, though. You don’t want to hit some rough patch of road and jolt Bradley awake.

A couple of hours later, you glance over, doing a double take as you see Bradley shift, then yawn widely. You turn your gaze back to the road as he pushes himself up in the seat, letting his jacket slide down to his lap.

“Why isn’t there music or anything?” He mumbles, voice a touch rough from his nap.

“I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“I would’a be fine.”

You shrug a little as Bradley reaches out, flicking on the radio. You wince as static blares across the speakers, and relax as he hurriedly turns the volume down with a mutter of, “Shit, sorry.”

You only half-listen as he works the dial back and forth, looking for a signal. He finally manages to hit on some alt-rock channel. You glance over, smiling as he wrinkles his nose a little before leaning back in his seat, muttering, “Better than nothing.” He yawns widely again, stretches, then closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the seat. “How long was I out?”

“Couple of hours.”

“Mm.”

“You wanna stop?”

“Mm…How long are we on this?”

“We’re taking this the rest of the way, but our next scheduled stop is in about an hour.”

“I can wait.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.” It’s another moment before Bradley twists in his seat, rooting around in a bag for a moment before you hear the crinkle of a wrapper and see him settle back down in your periphery. “We cross into Oregon yet?”

“Bout an hour ago.”

“Aww, you didn’t wake me up,” Bradley pouts, opening the protein bar he’s grabbed.

“What precisely did you want me to wake you up for?”

“You know, that thing we do where we say ‘Welcome to blah blah blah’...And we go, Wooo!” He waves his hands for emphasis before taking a bite from the bar.

“You wanna do it now?”

“No,” He grumbles, moodily tearing the snack's wrapper. “Won’t be the same.”

You roll your eyes. “You realize this little performance is cementing you as the biggest drama queen in this car?”

“Til we have to sleep in here again, yeah,” He says between bites of the bar.

“Oh,” You laugh, shaking your head, “That is not happening again.”

“Ever?”

“Never.”

“You’re gonna hurt her feelings.”

“She doesn’t have feelings. She’s not even a she. It’s a car, not a Transformer.”

“One more wisecrack like that and I’m revoking your driving privileges.”

“Sorry daaaaaad.”

“Smartass.”

“Dumbass.”

“Here.”

You glance down, spotting the half-eaten protein bar. You dip your head, taking a bite out of it before looking up again, chewing before muttering your thanks.

“Want another bite?” He asks.

“Nah, ‘m alright.”

“C’mooooon,” Bradley waves it back and forth beneath your nose, “You know you wannaaaa. They’re your faaaavoriiiiiite.”

You snort, leaning out of the brush of the bar against your lip.

“Cut it out,” You chuckle, “Seriously, I’m fine.”

“It’s the last one.”

You duck your head, catching hold of the rest of the bar and tugging it out of the wrapper with your teeth. Bradley laughs beside you, and you raise your hand, taking hold of the bit of the bar still hanging out of your mouth.

“Should’a said in the first place,” You mutter as you chew. “We’ll have to get more in Eugene.”

“Might have some wherever we’re stopping for lunch.”

“Maybe. I kinda wanna make Medford a quick stop.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause if we get to Eugene by four, we can check in, get in a quick nap, grab some dinner, and go to the Track Town Fall Fair.” “Wee-hoo!” Bradley crows. “Goddamn, I don’t know how you always find a fair when we take these trips.”

“Doesn’t matter how I employ my dark powers, only that I use it for good.”

“For good?”

“Yes. We get whiplash from the bumper cars, you get funnel cake, and then you win me a toy at the shooting gallery.”

“You make a…fair point.”

“Fuck, Bradshaw, that was awful,” You laugh, then pop the rest of the protein bar into your mouth.

The fair is bright, and poppy, and loud. You can’t help but grin as you and Bradley stroll through the rows of games and food stalls. There’s a ferris wheel not too far off, lit up and spinning lazily.

“Bumper cars first?” You ask.

“I think we oughta wait for dinner to settle,” Bradley winces. He curls his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You cuddle close, wrapping your arm around his waist and looking around.

“What, then?”

“You’re so impatient,” He chuckles, lips brushing your temple as he turns his head.

“Am not,” You mumble.

“Bet I can kick your ass at milk bottles.”

“Oh, you’re on, Bradshaw.”

There’s only one bed.

You knew that when you got there—when the receptionist at the motel told you blandly that they only had a single available, and would that be alright. You didn’t have much of a choice—you’d looked into the other motels in the area, and they were either full-up, or had alarming reviews. You managed to forget during the fair. You were so caught up in it—in the churros, and the funnel cake, and the bumper cars, and the ferris wheel, and the tilt-a-whirl—

But you remember as soon as you come back that there’s only one bed. Well, it’s hard to miss. It’s the biggest thing in the bland little room. You find yourself absently drawing the plush shark toy that Bradley won you a little closer to yourself. You walk around to your side of the bed (well, what you’ve decided is your side of the bed), and set the shark down on the bedside table.

“You wanna take the bathroom first?” Bradley asks.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.” You smile at Bradley, watching him head into the bathroom and waiting for him to shut the door before you hurriedly get changed into your sweatpants and sleep shirt. You grab your toiletry bag as you hear Bradley open the bathroom door.

You take a little longer than necessary to wash your face and brush your teeth. It’s not going to be so weird sharing a bed with Bradley. You’ve shared beds before. Hell, you shared the car just last night. You sigh, bracing your hands on the sink. Maybe you’re less worried about being weird, and more worried about getting used to the feeling of Bradley holding you like he holds other girls.

It’s a tight squeeze. The two of you shift back and forth, trying to find the best position before you both burst into laughter.

“Here,” He chuckles, rolling onto his side, “Roll over.”

You shift, turning over to rest on your side. It’s only a moment before Bradley tugs you back against his chest to keep you from falling out of bed.

“Alright?” He asks.

“Mhm,” You hum as steadily as you can. You can vaguely make out the outline of the shark on the nightstand. You bite your lip as Bradley’s nose brushes the nape of your neck.

“Night, Bradley,” You murmur.

“Night.”

You’re not sure how long it takes you to knock out. You just know that when you wake up, the room is flooding with blue morning light, and Bradley seems to still be sound asleep. He’s breathing steadily behind you. His roughening cheek is tickling your nape (he almost never shaves when he’s on leave). His fingers flex where they’re curled in your t-shirt, then slide a touch, brushing the skin of your belly. You bite your lip, fighting to keep your breathing even.

You could get up, of course—you probably wouldn’t wake him. You could slide from his grasp and shower, or grab your phone and check in with your family, or go out to the car and double-check the route for that day (there’s really no need to double-check—it’s the I-5 straight up to Portland).

Instead, you slide your hand down over Bradley’s, resting it gently there, ready to pull it away at any second. When Bradley doesn’t shift or make a sound, you relax back against him. You let yourself close your eyes again, and revel in the closeness.

Your first day in Portland is busy. You’ve gone to the International Rose Test Garden, gone to the farmer’s market, and explored the Alberta Arts District. Your second day, you and Bradley split up and do your own thing, like you always do. You meet for drinks that night (having already gone back to your hotel room and deposited all of the books that you bought at Powell’s City of Books).

“You gonna make me guess how many you bought?” Bradley asks, picking at the basket of fries rules that you’ve been sharing.

“You’ll see later.”

“Damn. It’s gotta be bad if you’re not even giving me a hint,” Bradley chuckles before nodding to your empty beer. “You want another one?”

“Mhm.”

Before Bradley can get the bartender’s attention, someone comes up to the bar beside him, calling, “Ay, Charlie!”

The bartender waves his acknowledgement. The man nods, then glances over toward you and Bradley with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” He chuckles. His gaze catches on yours, then sweeps your body. You turn your head, taking up a few fries and shoving them into your mouth. The bartender comes over, taking the guy’s order, then taking Bradley’s. The guy knocks on the bar, drawing your attention just a touch before he walks back to his friends.

“...I saw that,” Bradley says. You shake your head, humming in a noncommittal way. Bradley scoffs out a laugh, tacking on, “C’mon.”

“What?” You ask, turning to get a better look at him. His brows raise, head tipping forward just a touch.

“What?” You repeat, shrugging irritatedly. Bradley looks back in the direction that the guy went in.

“He’s not bad,” He offers. “A little scrawny.”

“Okay.”

“Looks like he uses natural deodorant that doesn’t work and only drinks IPAs.”

“You can let it go now.”

“Why not go for it?” Bradley presses. “You’re never gonna see these people again…Or maybe you will,” He nudges your shoulder with his. “Maybe he’s your soulmate.”

“My soulmate wouldn’t use natural deodorant.”

“What about his taste in IPAs?”

“Irrelevant.”

“So?”

“Let it go, Bradley.”

“Alright.” And he does, for a moment. Then—“There someone you’re not telling me about?”

“What?” You scoff.

“Just—It’s been a while, you know, since you’ve told me about anyone.”

“Maybe there hasn’t been anyone to talk about, you think about that?”

“I mean, maybe, but that doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh, please—”

“You’re smart, you’re beautiful—”

You’re gonna be sick—

“You’re an amazing person,” Bradley tacks on as the bartender sets your drinks down, “I don’t get how you haven’t found somebody—”

“Okay, you know what.”

You take hold of your beer, sliding off of the bar stool and striding over to the guy that had given you that look. You’re doing it out of spite; you’re doing it because you can’t listen to Bradley say any more of what he was saying, how he was saying it.

You don’t know what time Bradley leaves. You don’t know what time you get back to your hotel room. You just know that you’re alone, and tired, and in a shitty mood. You look moodily at the plush shark that you’ve put on your bed, then take it up. You drop it onto the armchair in the corner of the room, putting your jacket over it before you plop onto the bed. You let yourself sag back against the mattress, drawing in a deep, shaking breath. Stupid. What you’d done was so, so stupid. Bradley was just asking a question. Sure, it was a question that you were deeply uncomfortable with, a question that you couldn’t answer without ruining the greatest friendship in your life.

Hell—you worry that you may’ve ruined it, anyway.

There’s a knock on your door at nine the next morning. You step out of your bathroom, toothbrush still clenched between your teeth. You peer through the peephole, then step back, opening the door.

Bradley looks as unsure as you feel. You nod him inside, shutting the door behind him and hurrying back to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth. When you come back out, you find Bradley sitting on the edge of the bed, your plush shark in his hands. He glances up at you, then back down at the shark.

“You name him yet?” He asks. You walk over to Bradley, sitting down beside him.

“I think he looks like a Milton.”

“Milton?” He repeats, brows raising. “...Guess I can see it.”

The two of you sit in silence for a little while before Bradley finally offers:

“Sorry I pushed.”

“S’okay...Sorry I threw a fit.”

“S’okay. I couldn’t keep the title of biggest drama queen in the car.”

Bradley nudges your shoulder lightly with his, and you nudge his in turn, unable to help the small smile growing on your lips.

“Can I ask an inappropriate question?” Bradley hedges.

“I didn’t fuck him.”

“Okay.”

“...Was that the question?”

“Yep…Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Yep.”

“Ho…Ly…Fuck.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Shut up.”

“Did you get all’a these in case we run out of gas again?” Bradley asks, scanning the stack of books that you bought in the corner of the trunk. “You know, enough to read, and enough to keep a fire going?”

“We are not going to run out of gas,” You insist, heaving your bag into the trunk.

“What if we do?”

“I’m never going to talk to you again.”

“No really, what if we do.”

“No really, I’m never going to talk to you again.”

“...But if we do.”

You sigh heavily, leaning against the car and resting your hand on your popped hip. “If we do,” You press on the word, “Then you’re sleeping in the backseat alone, without any blankets.”

“Guess I can cuddle up with all of your books. All…One, two, three, four—”

“Shut up.”

“Hang on, I’m still counting—”

“Shut up—”

“I just reached double digits—”

“I will close the car door on your hand.”

“Bye Oregoooon—” You call over Bradley’s,

“Welcome to California!”

You each let out a Wooo! as he drives back across state lines.

“Made it up on the way back,” Bradley grins, settling back in the driver’s seat and glancing into the mirror, then over his shoulder as he changes lanes.

“You happy now?” You ask.

“Been happy the whole time.”

“The whole time?”

“Ninety-eight percent.”

“Think I can guess the two percent.”

“Bet you can’t.”

“Oh no?”

“No.”

“So it wasn’t the fight?”

“No. Friends fight sometimes, we’re fine.”

“So what was it?”

“It was the fact that you kicked my ass at milk bottles.” You cackle, smile widening as Bradley looks at you with a grin.

“You’re insane, Bradshaw.”

“You know it, baby.”

You’re still laughing at him, so the term of endearment manages to bounce off of you outwardly. Inwardly, it sinks into your chest. It was probably a slip-up, a one-off—but you’re gonna be thinking about it a lot.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You only just manage not to roll your eyes at his murmur, and his smile. Ma’am. For cryin’ out loud. Bradley’s always been polite, sure, but the way he leans into ma’am now is surely something he’s accidentally picked up from Hangman. It’s gotta be—though you don’t think he’d admit to it. Hell, he might even take offense to it.

You’ll have to keep that in your back pocket for later.

For now, you just pick your fork up, poke at what is, frankly, a fantastic piece of key lime pie, and ignore the way the waitress giggles and tells Bradley that he’s welcome—anytime. But you can’t help the nagging question that you loose once she walks away:

“Gonna go for it?”

“Go for what?” Bradley frowns. “I was just being nice.”

You raise your brows at him a touch before you concede: “Okay.” You don’t want another fight like Portland. Bradley takes up the other fork, snagging a piece of pie. He doesn’t eat it right away, offers, “I mean she’s cute, but…”

“But what?”

“I’m not interested.”

“...Okay.”

“Wanna know why I’m not interested?”

“If you wanna tell me.”

You glance over at Bradley, waiting. Instead of answering, he takes a bigger chunk out of the pie and crams it into his mouth. You snort, rolling your eyes.

“Good answer, Bradshaw.”

“‘Just a little detour’,” You mimic.

“Alright.”

“‘We’ll just take a few of the calmer backroads’.”

“Alright.”

“‘May as well get a better look at the state’—”

“Alright,” Bradley groans loudly, getting back into the car from adjusting the soft top, slamming the door shut behind himself. You huff, wrapping your arms around your middle and glaring at the darkening sky through the windshield.

“Can’t believe this,” You grumble.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Hmph.”

“...You want me to walk back to the gas station now?”

“No.”

“...You gonna make me sleep in the backseat?”

“I should.”

“But?”

“Just get the blankets, Bradshaw.”

The two of you get into position faster than last time. You lean back against his chest, arms folded petulantly over your middle as he tucks you both in. When he worms his hands under the blankets, you tuck your hands under your armpits, out of his reach. You feel Bradley patting along your folded arms for your hands, and hear him sigh as he feels your wrists tucked so tightly against your body.

“Gimme your hands.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“You can’t keep ‘em like that all night. They’ll fall asleep.”

“Good.”

Bradley groans frustratedly. He curls around you, pressing his face into your neck. You curl your hands more tightly into fists, fighting to ignore the rising tide of affection. You’re annoyed. You’re gonna stay annoyed.

“Please give me your hands,” He murmurs. You glare through the opposite window for a moment. Then your eyelids flutter as Bradley smooths his hands over your shoulders, warming you. You let your eyes close fully, drawing in a deep breath. Damnit. Damn this man. You hesitate, then unfold your arms, drawing your hands out. You feel Bradley’s lips pull into a smile, and bite your lip as you think you feel him drop a kiss to your neck. He takes hold of your hands, intertwining your fingers and settling the two of you back again, cuddling you close and curling his arms around you.

“...Thin ice, Bradshaw,” You mutter.

“Sweet dreams.”

“Hmph.”

“You still mad at me?”

You lift your hand away from the steering wheel just long enough to flip him off before reaching for your coffee cup.

“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” Bradley tacks on.

“You’re paying for my chiropractor.”

“Drama queen.”

“Asshat.”

“Whoa, hey,” He reaches into the backseat, drawing up your plush shark. “Don’t swear in front of the kid.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

“Watch it with your speed,” Bradley adds, setting Milton down in his lap.

“I’m going like fifteen over the limit.”

“I know, that’s why I said to watch it.”

“I’m trying to get us back on track. Your scenic route has taken more time than we originally budgeted, and that’s not counting your second gas mishap.”

“I’ve got ‘til the end of the week, you don’t have to speed home.”

“Yeah, but I don’t. I have a flight back home on Thursday.”

“Could change the ticket. You took Friday off, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but changing it this late isn’t gonna be cheap.” You glance over when Bradley goes quiet and find him fiddling with Milton’s tail. You turn to look out of the windshield again, biting the inside of your cheek. You sigh softly, taking your foot off of the gas and merging out of the fast lane. “I’ll take a look the next time you’re driving,” You offer after a moment.

“...’Kay.”

You reach out, blindly poking at Bradley’s cheek, muttering, “Cut it out.”

“What?”

“Pouting.”

“I’m not pouting—Ow!” Bradley whacks at your hand as you accidentally jab him in the nose. You huff, eyeing the road signs.

“Hey Bradshaw.”

“What.”

“You ever been to Santa Barbara?”

“No.”

May as well. You glance in the rear view, flipping your signal on and merging toward the exit.

“What are you doing?” Bradley frowns. You shrug, putting your foot down to make the exit on time.

“Just taking a little detour.”

You usually hate not having a plan when you’re visiting somewhere new, but this time, you’re just letting yourself wander. You go to the zoo, you spend time at the wharf. Sunset finds the two of you sitting on the beach, your shoes discarded, the sand beneath your toes. The breeze coming off of the water is a touch chilly, and you smile as Bradley rests his jacket around your shoulders. You scooch closer to him, pressing your thigh against his. You watch the waves as they creep up the beach and retreat, and listen to the steady lap of them.

Bradley sighs, curling his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, nuzzling against your temple. You cuddle into him, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes, letting the feeling of his body and the sound of the rolling waves envelope you.

“I don’t like fighting with you,” He mumbles.

“What, ‘cause I love it?”

“You know what I mean.”

You smile, snuggling a little closer to Bradley. The only available room at the motel had two twin beds, which was more than reasonable for your needs. You’d started out in your own bed, but when you hadn’t been able to sleep, you’d climbed into bed with him. He’d pulled his covers up around you without missing a beat, drawing you into his chest. You slide a leg over his now, wrapping your arm around his middle and shifting your head on his shoulder. He slides his hand up and down your back in slow, soothing movements.

“...It never feels like enough,” Bradley admits softly. You frown, tipping your chin up to look at him. Before you can ask, he tacks on, “My time with you. Never feels like enough.”

You lower your head, biting your lip and nodding.

“I know,” You murmur. “Doesn’t feel like enough for me, either.”

Bradley sighs, nuzzling your hair and drawing in a deep breath.

“Go to sleep, Bradley.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“The sooner I do, sooner it’ll be morning. Sooner it’s morning, sooner you’ll go home.”

You smile, chest fluttering as you curl your fingers in the fabric of his sleep shirt.

“So you’re gonna stay up all night and make me do all of the driving tomorrow?” You tease.

“Long as you promise to ease up on that lead foot.”

“Oh, please. Doing 75 in a 60 mile zone is not a lead foot.”

“Damn near.”

“Vying for the title of drama queen again?”

Bradley chuckles softly. Your stomach flips as his fingers bunch the fabric of your shirt up a little, his pinkie trailing over your lower back.

“Go to sleep, Bradley.”

“Make me.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know, you’ll think of something.”

You snort, tipping your head up and resting your chin on his shoulder. You move a little too fast—Bradley’s still nuzzling against your hair as you shift. His lips brush over your forehead, then skim down the slope of your nose. As you go still, Bradley’s breath brushes your lips. Your heart pounds in your ears; you’re certain your palm is sweating where it’s pressed against his shirt. You can’t quite make out Bradley’s expression in the dim light of the room. You feel his fingers tightening in your shirt before he tips his chin. His lips brush, then press warmly against yours. Your eyes widen a touch, your heart leaping into your throat. Shit—shit. This is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you suddenly find that you can’t move.

Your shock and inaction seem to draw Bradley out of whatever’s overtaken him, and your heart drops into your stomach as he leans away, mumbling, “Shit—Shit, I’m sorry—”

Your brain catches up with your body, your hand lifting away from his shirt as Bradley starts to push himself to sit up. Another apology is falling from his lips as you hook your fingers in his collar, drawing him close again. He doesn’t finish his second I’m sorry as you catch his lips in a kiss. Your panicked thoughts go quiet as his hands flex, then clutch at your wrist. You nearly whimper as Bradley draws you fully on top of him, his groan vibrating against your lips. You plant one of your hands in the mattress, using it to hold yourself up over him as the two of you shift and adjust. He slips his hand up under your shirt, fingers splaying wide against your back. You slide your hand up from his collar to cup his cheek, palm pricking with the feeling of his stubble.

You lightly slip your tongue along the seam of his lips, whimpering softly as Bradley’s lips part, his tongue teasing tenderly against yours. He moans, tipping his head a touch. Your kisses deepen, your tongues twining as you press your bodies together. Bradley gives your shoulder a nudge as he shifts the two of you to sit up. You lean back, gripping the hem of your top and tugging it up and off. You see Bradley’s shirt flung to the side before he raises his hands, cupping your face and drawing you back in. You shift on the bed, straddling his hips and pressing closely to him.

It shouldn’t be so easy. It shouldn’t be so easy to sink into his arms, into his kisses, into his touch like this. It should feel foreign, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. You smooth your fingers through his hair, curling the strands around your fingers and giving a slight tug. Bradley’s lips part in a moan and you dive in, sweeping your tongue into his mouth. Bradley’s hands smooth over your sides, then up over your shoulders. His palms are a little rough from work, but his touch is careful, and tender. He ducks back from your kiss, pressing one of your chin before his lips drift, smoothing along the line of your throat. You shiver at the brush of his kisses, the light scrape of his facial hair leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You tip your head down, biting your lip as Bradley gently grasps your breasts, massaging them. He dips his head, swiping his thumb over a budding nipple before lapping over it. You whimper, fingers tightening in his hair and pressing up against his lips. He draws your tit between his lips, giving it a suck, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple.

“Fuck, Bradley,” You mumble, hips shifting down against his. He hums softly, grinding up against you in turn.

“Lay back,” He murmurs against your skin. You do a little reluctantly, climbing off of his lap and laying back on the bed. Bradley hunkers down over you, fingers curling in the band of your pajama shorts. You feel him peering up at you in the darkness, his lips brushing your belly.

“Can I?” He murmurs. You nod, and Bradley tuts softly. “I gotta hear it, baby.”

You huff softly and reach down, resting your hands atop his.

“Yes,” You breathe, giving his hands a little squeeze.

You’ve imagined this, over and over. You’ve thought about how it might be between the two of you—tentative? Rushed? You’ve imagined what he would feel like—his body over yours, his thighs pushing yours wide, his breath brushing your skin.

You never could’ve thought it would be like this.

Your greedy cunt throbs around his cock as he eases it just a little deeper. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulders, your eyes rolling back into your head as you adjust to him. He growls against your neck, the push and heat of his breath against your jaw.

“Bradley,” You whimper. He grunts in turn, smoothing his hand over the meat of your thigh and tugging it up just a touch higher around his hip. A broken curse leaves your lips as he eases in to the hilt. He tips his chin up, sinking his teeth into the skin of your neck, laying a sharp nip, then sucking the sting from the skin. You can’t bring yourself to gripe with him about the inevitable bloom of the hickey there. You just raise a hand to fist in his hair, turning your head and catching his lips in a heated kiss. Your grip tightens on him, pussy fluttering as he begins to shallowly roll his hips. You let your head tip back onto the pillows, eyes sliding shut as he leans away. You feel him shift, planting his knees before he draws back. Your breath is punched out of you as he begins to thrust steadily.

Your toes curl as you tip your hips up toward him. You don’t bother to stop or staunch the whines and pleas that slip past your lips. You open your eyes as you feel Bradley lean over you, tucking his hand beneath your head and tipping your head up just a touch. You find Bradley’s eyes searching your face; his mussed hair curls down over his forehead; his lips are puffed from your kisses, and parted. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plush lower lip, and you find yourself straining up for a kiss. He tightens his grip on your nape, humming softly as his lips meet yours in a desperate, searching kiss.

You push your body up against him, curling your legs around his and sliding your arms down his back. You pout when he draws back from you, and raise your brows as he rests his hands on the bedframe. You only have a moment to adjust, to catch sight of the devious curl of his lips before his hips begin to hammer against yours.

When you begin to rouse, you think it may’ve been a dream. And then you become acutely aware of the slightly scratchy sheets against your bare skin, the soreness in your body, and the warmth and press of Bradley’s body behind you on the narrow little bed. You breathe in elation, and then breathe out panic, your eyes opening wide.

You cannot believe you did that. What were the two of you thinking? And what the hell does this even mean? You’ve known Bradley in one way since you were kids and this is so, so terribly different. You draw in a shaky breath, smoothing your hand over your face and trying to steady yourself. This is going to be fine. Whatever this happens, this is going to be fine, right? You’re adults, you can talk about this calmly and rationally—

You suck in a stunned breath as you feel Bradley drawing you back into his chest, and can’t help the soft giggle that leaves you as he brushes his coarse cheek against your shoulder.

“Are you up yet?” He mumbles. “‘M hungry.”

“Mhm.”

“Think they do room service?”

“We’re not at a fucking Hilton, Bradley. The closest they’ve got here is an overpriced vending machine.”

“...We have to get dressed, huh.”

“Yep.”

“Lame.”

You smile, pushing yourself to sit up. You roll your neck, sighing softly as you release tension. Before you can get up, Bradley curls his hand around your wrist, mumbling, “Hey.”

You turn to look at him, a smile growing unwittingly on your lips as he blinks sleepily up at you. Fuck, he looks good. He looks relaxed, and happy. You never want to forget the sight of him like this. He tugs you back, pulling you to meet him halfway as he props himself up on his elbow. You lean in, pecking his lip, and grinning as his hand lifts from your wrist, cupping your cheek. You’re going to pull away. You’re going to get up, shower, get dressed, and look up places for the two of you to get breakfast…Right after this next kiss…Or the one after that…

You groan softly as Bradley’s arm hooks around your shoulder, drawing you back down with him. You rest your hand on his abs, cuddling into his chest as you trade soft, sleepy kisses. “Mm…Bradley?”

“Mm.”

“I thought…” You mumble against his lips, between kisses. “I thought…We were getting breakfast.”

Bradley grunts, lowering his arm to grip the covers and pull them back up over the two of you.

“...In a minute.”

You’re still in bed an hour later. You groan softly, bouncing in his lap, grinding down on his cock as Bradley mottles the skin of your collarbone with his lips and teeth. His hands grasp your ass, squeezing and guiding you as he pants against your skin. You shiver as you feel a familiar stirring in your belly.

“Bradley,” You warn. “Yeah?” He murmurs; you can hear the smile in his voice. You loose a shaky hum, nodding, curling your arms around his shoulders and cuddling closer.

“Fuck, c’mon,” He urges, driving his hips up into you. You whine his name out, squeezing down around him as your orgasm wells up and crests sharply. You keep bouncing, sensitive and shaking as Bradley keeps fucking up into you. It’s only another few moments before his hips stutter, then slam up. You moan as Bradley eases the two of you back, laying back down as his softening cock slips from you. You curl up into his side as his fingers sweep tenderly over the nape of your neck. You draw in a deep breath, the pounding of your heart slowing as the two of you come down together.

“...I’m starving,” He mumbles. You roll your eyes, a laugh bubbling up.

“Maybe we should get up?”

“Probably should. Why didn’t you suggest that before?”

“Oh, my god,” You roll your eyes, rolling over and sliding out of his arms, “You know what—”

“What, are you getting up or something?”

“I am showering alone, Bradshaw.”

“That doesn’t sound like any fun.”

“I’m not leaving you any hot water.”

“We should check out the maritime museum,” You comment, flipping through a pamphlet. Bradley snuggles closer to you, curling his arm around your shoulder and looking down at the pamphlet. You can only imagine the looks you’re getting with the way the two of you are curled up together on the same side of the booth. Frankly, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Maybe next time,” He offers. You frown, turning to look at him.

“Why next time?”

He shrugs a little, raising his hand to scratch his cheek, his budding beard rasping beneath his nails.

“Gotta get you back down to San Diego. Flight’s tonight,” He reminds you softly. You smile, gently nudging his shoulder with yours.

“My flight’s on Saturday. I changed it while you were showering,” You admit. Friday flights had been way too pricey, and the time you got on Saturday is going to suck—but it gives you another day and a half with Bradley. His eyes widen a touch, a smile spreading across his lips.

“You did what?” He murmurs.

“I changed it,” You repeat flippantly before turning back to the pamphlet. “So. Museum?”

Bradley doesn’t say a thing. He just presses his face into your neck, peppering the skin with little kisses that tickle, making you giggle and squirm.

“We should probably talk about this.”

You practically say it into your dufflebag as you fold your pajama bottoms. You’re too nervous to say it to his face. You expect Bradley to make a joke. Instead, he reaches out, grasping your hips. You take a couple of wobbly steps back when he tugs, smiling as he draws you down into his lap. He curls his arms around your middle securely, resting his chin on your shoulder and sighing softly.

“If you wanna leave everything that’s happened here,” He offers softly, “I’d understand.”

You bite your lip, peering down at where he’s holding you. You smooth your hands over his, shaking your head a little.

“I don’t want that,” You admit before nervously asking, “Do you?”

“No.”

A relieved breath eases out of you, your shoulders untensing a little.

“Okay.”

You turn your head, pressing a kiss to his temple, smiling as he catches hold of your hands and intertwines your fingers. “I’m gonna tell you something,” He warns, “And I think you’re gonna…Be a little mad about it.”

Your brow furrows at the assertion.

“Okay?”

“...I ran out of gas on purpose.”

“You what?” You howl, jumping up out of his lap and turning to face him. He’s smiling, hands up in apology.

“I—”

“Both times?”

“No! Just the second time. The first one was a total accident.”

“Why the—” You take up a pillow, whacking him lightly with him as he raises his hands and tries to catch hold of the pillow, “Why the—goddamn hell did you do that!”

“I wanted to spend more time with you!”

He says it through his laughter, but it makes you stop. He catches hold of the pillow, tugging you closer before gently prying it out of your grip and tossing it aside in favor of taking your hands.

“I wanted to spend more time with you,” He repeats, drawing you closer, “And I missed holding you.”

You sigh softly, squeezing his hands softly.

“There were easier ways to do that,” You mutter.

“I know.”

“...It was fricking cold.”

“I know.”

“I was so pissed.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

You sigh heavily, shoulders sagging as the irritation drains fully from you.

“If you ever do that again on purpose—”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“You better.”

“I won’t…You still mad at me?”

“...No,” You pout. He grins, tugging you closer to stand between his legs, and you smile, unable to help yourself. “You’re insane, Bradshaw.”

“You know it, baby.”

#Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x You #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw/Reader #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw/You #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw fic #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw imagine #Roadtrip Rooster

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ryuichirou · 6 days

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Jade gaslighting anon here, sorry if I sounded offended. Gaslighting is a very specific type of abuse that I went through for a very long time and while Jade is very toxic and problematic, he is not a gaslighter so it bothers me when people slap that on as a catch-all for all manipulative characters. Again, sorry if I sounded angry or offended.

Anon, I heard you. And I am sincerely sorry that you went through some very bad stuff in your life.

However. I want to say something and I am not going to mince my words this time because I need to make one thing clear.

Here is TLDR if you don’t want to read the whole post: No offence, but I can’t keep in mind everyone’s trauma, I don’t think Rook is a gaslighter, we will continue to post content about Jade being one.

I disagree with you on Jade not being a gaslighter and Rook being one. I don't think that this is the case, in fact, I think the opposite is true. But we are not going to have a character discussion right now because this clearly isn't the point of the situation that’s happening here. Based on what you’re saying, your opinion is influenced by your past experiences. Which isn’t a bad thing, we all have our own biases, but it makes a proper discussion quite difficult, especially when there is trauma involved.

Here is the thing. I know what gaslighting is. I myself was also a victim of gaslighting, believe it or not. I was in a very bad place for a lot of years, and some of the events from that time affect me to this day. There are a lot of things that trigger me, ruin my mood, make me panic, in fact, all of us have those things to some degree. And all of us have content that is deeply upsetting, even if it’s not related to one’s past trauma. But that doesn’t justify asking people on the internet to stop talking about characters a certain way or reading them a certain way. How is it different than people asking us not to post Shroudcest or not to talk about them in as a romantic ship? There might be people who don’t just use it as an excuse, but are actually getting triggered by me drawing these two, so what should I do about it? Obey every single one of those people? Then it’s just easier not to post anything about any character.

Unfortunate as it is, I cannot take care of all of you: it's impossible. You have to take care of yourself. Mute the word, avoid our posts about Jade, whatever feels more suitable. Because we are not going to rewrite the way we view certain characters because of someone else’s bad associations or even just different reading of the said character, it just isn't fair to ask that of someone. You didn’t say “you know, I personally don’t think that Jade is this way, because of this, this and this”. This isn’t how you approached this; you were upset about the fact that I made Jade into a gaslighter instead of making Rook one, and this is clearly your bias. Which is, once again, not a bad thing in itself, it’s just that I still have no idea what exactly you wanted me to do. Even if Rook reminds you of someone from your past, even if Jade is your comfort character, I can’t take those things into account about every single one of our followers, so why should I do it for you? This wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the people here, right?

We are all entitled to our own opinions and feelings, and I wouldn’t dare to argue with you about it anywhere else: this topic is clearly hurting you; so arguing about it would just be mean and uncalled for. But this is our blog, our space and our territory; and we are going to talk about the characters in the way that we want. Especially when this is a hc post, for fuck’s sake.

You didn’t sound offended or mad, you sounded upset. And I might also sound upset, but I actually am a little mad because if you are the person I think you are, I am a bit disappointed by you saying this to me via Anon.

Please understand. I am being this strict because I feel like I need to remind you about certain boundaries that I don’t want to get violated.

Having bad associations and getting triggered by a character is a horrible thing, and as someone who had to rewatch a bunch of stuff to get new fond memories of quite a lot of characters, I understand that, believe it or not. I actually had to rewatch a lot of shit to get to love some characters again. And it was my fight to fight that Katsu was kind enough to help me with because Katsu is my partner who wanted me to get better: I am a part of Katsu’s life, that’s why Katsu listened patiently when I was mad at a character that had nothing to do with the thing I was actually mad about.

My point is that we have our own circumstances, and you have no idea how bad of a timing this whole shit is. You don’t know what kind of life we live and what we go through right now, and, to put it mildly, it’s not the best, so we’re really not in the mood.

So please. Take care of yourself and just ignore shit that you don’t like because while it might be traumatic for you, to us it might be one of the few things that bring us happiness.

#replies

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mewtwoandme · 11 months

Note

Also, you can answer this privately if you'd like, but I really love how you hold your ground with your ideas. I've seen plenty of creators kinda change their mind on ideas because a few people were offended or just didn't like the concept and it bums me out because while yes sometimes you should listen to critism, other times it's not actually criticism but just people being dumb.

You know honestly, I'm convinced I'm a 40-50 year old stuck in in a 24 year old body XD I'm such a hardass. I just don't have the patience or mental strength to deal with people who are like that, especially the younger generations. Even some people who are are my age or slightly older.

What I'm about to say below is not directed towards anyone, but how I feel generally on the matter. Read more if you want to

When something like cancel culture exists, you know you're not going to please everyone with what you do or what opinions/ideas you have. There will always be people who hate them regardless of what it is or what it's about. Whether it be fandoms, storytelling, art/character preferences, dare I say political views, etc. It goes on and on. But just because they don't like something, it doesn't mean I have to change things to appease them. And that's what a lot of those types of people can't stand. If I don't agree with them or abide by what they command me to do, suddenly I'm the asshole? XD God forbid they hold any accountability for themselves in their decision-making. They can just... not view my content. Scroll over, block whatever, but no, apparently, that's just too hard, and it's easier to bitch about and/or blame the creator. Like honestly my thoughts are I don't give a fuck how offended someone is or if they don't agree with my personal choices on a matter. It's my blog, I run it how I want to, I create what I want to create and I tell a story how I want to tell it.

I'm not going to cater to every individual who thinks they're holier-than-thou and entitled to say I need to change this or that just to fit their views or so it appears less offensive to them. Damn right I hold my ground! It is not my obligation to appease people by having my art/story/characters dictated by their every whim and what they think it should be. If they feel so strongly about what I do, they can easily write or draw their own stuff and make it more ideal for themselves, but if they claim, "B-but, I'm not good at doing that." Well, that ain't my fault, nor is it my damn problem. Don't come to my blog acting like you can manipulate me to draw or write things you want to happen or how you want things to be. You ain't my boss, you're not paying me to do your bidding, so until you somehow become my boss and actually obtain authority over what I do, leave me to write my characters and stories/make my art in peace!

#answered ask #godzilla fan #((sorry it turned into a bit of a rant XD))

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as8bakwthesage · 10 months

Text

My Experience With Lily Orchard + Fuck Her

Now, if those of you who know me or have been following me for a while will know that I used to be a massive Lily Orchard fan. I used to support her, I defended her, and I was once a member of her patron even.

I’ve heard stories from people, former friends, former fans, about how much of a manipulating and nasty bitch she is. At best, she’s lashed out at fans for drawing innocuous fanart and for bringing up topics in stream that she doesn’t approve of (I’ve been there, I’ve seen it), and at worst she’s a lying abusive cunt who can’t help but make people around her miserable.

And while I’ve not been the subject of Lily’s abuse, I have been witness and bore the blunt of her passive aggressive horseshit, her manipulating situations to make me appear like a cunt for daring to correct her on an opinion of a book she never fucking read, her shamelessly putting me on blast in one of her videos where she insinuated I was stupid for asking a question about LGBT+ rep, for telling me and other fans to stop talking when we tried to defend our positions in chat.

I’ve had to walk on eggshells around her because I feel like every word I say or anything I do will be seen as an attack on her despite me being a fan of hers for literally fucking years and she knows this. I’ve been a fan of hers since I was 15-16 and I’m 22 now. With no other content creator have I felt the need to be so fucking careful of what I say.

And when I sent her an ask telling her that her yelling at others on stream for seemingly no reason was actively triggering me (mind you, in the nicest way possible because I couldn’t hurt Ms. Orchard’s feewings oh nuuuu) she ignored my ask. Do I have proof she saw it? No. Is she a large enough content creator that she receives so much interaction/asks on her tumblr that my ask got swallowed? Also No.

If you’re a Lily Orchard fan, I am not a needless hater, I am not a stalker or a troll or a bigot. I’m a transgender and biromantic/asexual person myself who is Native and actively participates in activities regarding my tribe and culture. I’m white passing like Lily is. I used to be a fan of hers for fuck’s sake and an active one too.

But here’s the thing - she’ll suck you in with her bold commentary and criticisms and some of it is genuinely really thought provoking and interesting. On the outset she has a “no tolerance for abusers” policy and she’s charismatic to an audience of teenagers who were being abused. Fuck, she helped me realise I was being abused and when the Toonkritic shit came out, that slowly started to help me realise I was being groomed by my exe (TheHauntedReader)

I convinced myself for the longest time that just because Lily wrote “Stockholm” that it didn’t mean anything. That all of her weird takes and opinions were just a quirky “haha i did this in my youth and i regret it” moment. But this isn’t 13-year-old me writing weird fanfiction between an adult and a child when I didn’t fucking know any better and was being actively groomed and abused, this was an adult who wrote CP and romanticised it and tried to get away with it and who should have known better!

And once you are a fan of hers, it’s hard not to become emotionally invested, especially if you’ve always seen her behaviour as normal, which I did. A lot of her fans are abuse/trauma survivors and she knows that. So many of us have confided to her that she helped us realise we could be happier and that we could escape. That we were more than our abuse. These are powerful things to talk about.

But she doesn’t care about us. Never has. Never will. She convinced me and has convinced others that us asking her stupid/silly questions is damaging to her. That it’s caused her so much emotional damage and stress that she can justify lashing out and verbally abusing her audience, y’know - the people who gave her a career. By her own admission, she hates us, but expects our support when she’s being harassed??

Girl, fuck off.

But that is just my own experience. I’ve seen some shit in the past couple of days that I can’t unsee and I encourage you all to look into it because it’s such a dark hole that the phrase “stare into the abyss for too long and it stares back” is what I feel like right now.

And I know why I feel like this - I invested energy and money and emotions into this woman and her channel. I’ve supported her. And no, Lily, this is not about me wanting to be your friend. It’s about me asking for some fucking decency as someone you at least know of and at most you know supported you? To not lie and misrepresent what I’ve said and then vaguepost about me?

Have I made mistakes? Yes. But that’s no excuse to berate and yell at people who have only asked stupid questions or fuck, even made goddamn harmless jokes??

Also, if fans/friends of Lily’s are harassing @asunnycoffee you guys are the fucking worst. Don’t fucking attack my friend you raging cunts. I have a couple ideas of who you might be, but I know you won’t air out your dirty laundry with me, Ginger.

You guys are pathetic.

Lily doesn’t care about her fans, she doesn’t care about her friends, and she’s certainly not going to start anytime soon.

#fuck lily orchard #lily orchard #sage writes an essay again #sage rambles

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thechaoticdruid · 4 months

Text

The Spawn Vs The Ascendant (2) [Sneak Peek]

Note: This is not finished. It may be altered when the full chapter comes out. Also 18+ this part has some steaminess. Nothing seriously graphic tho.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Blood, sexual content, death, Ascended Astarion, Toxic vampire master and slave relationship.

First Part

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Savegame 2: About a month after the defeat of the Elderbrain.]

Tav walked into the brothel, hugging himself with his arms as his ruby colored eyes flicked back and forth around the room nervously. The robe he wore while indeed quite useful revealed far too much of his thighs for the young man’s liking.

“Something troubling you, little love?” His partner smiled, looping his arm around the shorter male’s waist.

“I’m fine…I just….feel a bit exposed…” Tav shivered a bit. Though it was his own idea to put on this accursed robe to delight his partner for their night out he was now realizing he maybe had been in over his head.

“Well aren't you a beautiful little lady.~” A tall and slightly drunk sounding half-orc stumbled across the room as he looked Tav over with a lustful gaze.

“Don’t you worry, my treasure. If anyone lays a hand on you without my permission I'll rip out their throat.” Astarion tugged the spawn against his form before planting a slightly aggressive kiss upon Tav’s cheek. Tav gave a small smile and leaned into Astarion's embrace before the two of them headed upstairs.

“LADY!?” All of Tav's bashfulness faded away as his expression turned to anger. His fangs were bared and his fists were clenched. “I'm a boy- er..man! I'm a man!” Tav huffed out with a wolf-like growl.

The half-orc blinked a bit, looking Tav over. Tav's androgynous looking appearance was confusing the brothel goer. His soft facial features and long eyelashes did make him look rather feminine. That along with his short stature and current attire definitely did not help.

“But you're so pretty," the half-orc said, his words slurring as he took a step closer towards the short vampire spawn. "You look like a woman to me.”

Astarion watched as his little spawn shook with rage.

“Oh dear.” He sighed, looking down at his nails for a moment as his pet proceeded to stomp towards the much larger male. Astarion's little love did have quite the vicious temper at times.

He raised one clawed finger after another counting.

One. Two. Three.

The sound of a scuffle could be heard, followed by crashing and wolf growls all the while the vampire lord started looking over his nails. A slightly off-key hum leaving his lips as a few screams from the half-orc were heard. After a few moments there was a thud before Tav walked back over towards his lover.

“Sorry, I may have got a little distracted.” Tav rubbed the back of his head. An unconscious and severely bruised body laid behind him.

“I'm a little disappointed you left him alive, but I am eager to get on with tonight's main event so let's not waste anymore time.” Astarion held out his hand allowing his lover to take it before the two of them continued up another set of stairs. Tav's little scene had caused a few heads to turn though no one dared to get involved.

They entered a dark room on the top floor. The sweet scent of lavender hit Tav's senses as he and Astarion entered the room.

“Back again already?” A seductive voice rang out.

A female drow stepped out and wrapped her arms around Tav just as a second male drow moved in and did the same to Astarion. “Did you miss us that badly?” The male purred. Tav's shivered a bit before he looked down at his feet.

“How could we not? The service last time was….mouthwatering.~” Astarion turned to face the drow behind him, “wasn't it my treasure?”��

“Ah….y-yes….it was really nice..” Tav stuttered, if he could still blush his face would be on fire right now. He bit his lip, his left fang drawing blood.

“Perhaps we should continue on from last time then?” The female drow said, lips dangerously close to Tav's ear.

~~~

Nearly thirty minutes had passed. Lustful cries and groans echoed throughout the room. Once everyone was spent, Tav found himself snuggled up in his master's lap, his head pressed against his chest as he listened to Astarion's heartbeat.

It was strange to think that not too long ago these roles had been reversed. The sound was comforting even if the person it came from became less and less so these days.

“Pet.” Astarion spoke quietly as he noticed the two courtesans had drifted off into a slumber.

“Yes?” Tav glanced upwards.

“You haven't fed in three days.”

“I'm not hungry…” Tav lied, he could feel the gaping maw deep inside him crying out as they spoke, but he did his damndest to ignore it. He'd only ever really allowed himself to feed from Astarion since his turning, which did not happen often. ‘Too much may drive you mad.’ His master would say. Perhaps that was possible, but knew it was more likely that Astarion didn't want to risk giving him his freedom back.

“What have I said about lying to me?” Astarion gripped his spawn’s face, pinching Tav's cheeks between two fingers and making him return his gaze.

“I'm sorry.” Tav replied.

Astarion thought for a moment before glancing over at the sleeping bodies besides. Tav's eyes widened in surprise. “No, Astarion, please don't make me-”

“Feed,” was all his master said, glowing red eyes bore into his soul before his body began to react on its own. He moved over to the male drow slowly, his teeth grit together and deep inside feelings of utter disgust and pure delight waged war against one another. Shakily Tav placed a clawed hand over the male and turned him so that his neck was exposed. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the grey skinned male’s jugular, his tongue instinctively flicked over his fangs.

Finally he bit down, sinking his fangs into the mortal’s flesh. Warm blood dripped onto his tongue, sending a feeling of euphoria coursing through his body. Tav moaned barely even noticing his master petting his head before Astarion sank his own fangs into the female drow, not wasting a second to begin feasting upon her life force. It only took a few moments before both courtesans were sucked dry. Tav breathed out heavily, blood dripped down his chin, his hands shook as he looked down at the lifeless body in front of him. They didn't need to die. They had never done anything wrong to him. This was sickening.

“That's a good boy.” Astarion's voice rang out, breaking Tav from his trance. “Now come here.~”

The Vampire Lord pulled his spawn back into his lap, possessively draping his arms around him before locking their lips. Tav hesitantly returns the kiss allowing his master's tongue inside to claim and dominate his mouth. “Mmm…” Tav moaned, feeling Astarion pull him flush against his bare body, leaving no space between them as blood and saliva mixed. The spawn wrapped his arms around his master's neck feeling Astarion's nails dig into his back slightly. The vampire lord pulled back a bit, taking in a breath of air before forcing his tongue back into Tav's mouth, his hands gripping his ass as he began to grind against him.

Feelings of guilt and shame were forgotten for now as Tav allowed himself to become lost in his master.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion my beloved #bg3 tav #bg3 #ascended astarion #male tav #baldur's gate astarion

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peachsayshi · 1 year

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I'm squealing over the thought of reader being super affectionate to sukuna without him interrupting her. i imagine her sitting on sukuna's lap in silence, her gentle hand on his cheek; thumb caressing his rough skin while her other hand is running through his hair, occasionally massaging his sculp. she maintains eye contact with him for a while but breaks it when she leans down to lay soft kisses on his cheek 🥺

She also loves holding his big hand and kissing his palm then placing his hand on her cheek and just closes her eyes and sigh happily 😭😭😭😭

I needed to let this out 😔

oh my gosh, nonnie - this is SO CUTE!! I have been picking at my brain on what makes Sukuna blush and I think…I think you just gave me the answer 👀 if you don’t mind me adding onto your thoughts, but picture this:

sukuna’s eyes are on you, taking you in, one hand chastely resting on top of your thigh, and his index finger lightly tracking up and down your waist. he’s admiring your subtle smile, and your fingers comb through the fiery strands of his hair as you gently tug upward.

you repeat the action which makes him exhale, and his shoulders relax on his throne with his head falling back against the seat. you draw a line from his forehead to the tip of his nose, and he closes his palm around your waist to give you a squeeze. you follow the angle of his jaw, before bringing your lips down to leave a soft kiss on his cheekbone. you graze your knuckle down the column of his neck and he furrows his brow as he looks at you with curious eyes.

“what are you doing?” he grumbles, but you could tell he was faking his frustration.

“nothing,” you reply with a shrug and a kiss to his neck.

he mumbles something under his breath, and you giggle from how oddly content he was by your behavior.

“should I stop?”

before he can even reply, you hear the voice of someone interrupting. sukuna’s back straightens immediately, and his calm face grimaces into something cruel. the atmosphere shifts, and he startles you when he abruptly shouts: “get out!” to whoever dared enter unannounced.

a few seconds pass, your heart racing it’s way up your throat…and when you finally have the courage to look down at the cursed king, you part your lips in a quiet surprise noticing that the tips of his ears were bright red and there was noticeable flush just underneath his eyes.

was he…blushing?

you absorb the image of him - knowing full well that you might never catch this expression again. it’s actually cute seeing him flustered, caught off guard in a moment of vulnerability that he didn’t expect anyone to see.

he blinks a few time before shifting his gaze back towards you. he finds your hand resting on his chest, and holds it his own before bringing it to his lips and kissing the inside of your palm.

“carry on…” he whispers, before resuming the position that he was once in.

#anon this is soo 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰#I love the image you put in my head #soft Sukuna hours #readers.🧡#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x female reader #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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victoria-daydreams · 2 years

Text

The Dressmaker

AN: So, I did it, I wrote a Luca Changretta fanfiction. This was supposed to be 1k words at max, but of course I went overboard. If this story seems all over the place, I’m sorry but I promise it made much better sense in my head.

Trigger warnings: racial slur, my attempt to write sexual tension, knowing nothing about sewing

Word Count: 3.3k

The crackle of static and then the slow melody of a bow drawing across the strings of a violin floated into the ears of the young woman seated behind a polished mahogany counter. Selina let her pencil glide across the paper, a few faint lines here, a dark outline over there. All was quiet in Miss Clarke’s Dress Shop, the store located right on the corner of the street. Everyone on the street knew who she was, for she was constantly mending or designing pieces for customers that frequented her shop. Not to mention, that Selina’s dress shop was infamous for its wide variety; fabric of every conceivable color and style exploded from the racks.

However, there was another clientele that Selina extended her services to in a much different capacity. The Peaky Blinders, also known as The Shelby’s, often used the space in her basement as storage for their shipments. They appreciated her discretion and Selina was more than to happy to help, because that’s what family is for, right? Selina wasn’t a Shelby by blood, but she was a Shelby through and through and no one dared to dispute that.

Orphaned at young age due to her parents dying from disease, Selina had no where to go, but in swooped Polly who happily adopted her. According to the older woman, Selina’s mother and her were good friends; faintly she could remember Polly’s face as a young child before her parent’s death. Still, Polly raised her like she was her own and was fiercely protective of her.

Out of nowhere, a saucer and teacup was placed down onto the counter with gentle clink. Selina lifted her head and looked over to see Naveen’s friendly, brown eyes staring back at hers.

“Still cracking away at it Lina?” he asked, holding a teacup of his own.

“Unfortunately,” she sighed, letting the pencil fall from her fingers. She grabbed the handle of the porcelain cup and raised it to her lips. A contented hum left her. “Bless you Naveen, you made it just how I like it,” Selina said, a smile on her face.

“You started teatime without me?” Julia questioned, looking up from the hem of a dress she was inspecting. “Some friends you lot are,” she commented, letting out a scoff.

“The teapot is still hot, plenty of time to pour yourself a cuppa and join us,” Naveen joked, moving further down the counter.

“It’s not the same though,” Julia complained, shoving her hands into the pockets of the same white coat they were all wearing. “There’s something about the way you make my tea that makes it fantastic,” she said, leaning against the counter.

“Better luck next time,” he wished, with a smirk as he put his cup down.

Naveen picked up a pair of shears lying on the countertop and held them up to the light. The blades glinted dully. Reaching underneath the counter, he grabbed an emery stone and positioned the edge of the blade against it before running the shears across it repeatedly.

“What do you say, Lina?” Julia asked, causing her to whip her head from watching Naveen to her. “Be a friend, and make me a cup of tea,” she suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Selina answered dryly, picking up her pencil again. “The lord has blessed with you two hands and two feet,” she continued. “Use them,” Selina suggested, flashing her friend a smile before focusing on her sketch again.

“The next time you two need a favor, don’t bother coming to ask me,” she warned playfully, as she walked to the back room.

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots Julia,” Naveen retorted.

Selina laughed quietly as her pencil scratched against the paper as she fidgeted with the details. Just then, the bell to the door rang signaling a customer had just entered the shop.

“Welcome to Miss Clarke’s Dress Shop, how may I help you,” Selina greeted cheerily, without having to think about it as her eyes remained glued on the paper.

She received no response, just eerie silence. Selina felt herself stiffen, now noticing that Naveen’s scrapping had also came to an abrupt halt as well. Her head snapped up and towards the direction of the door, Selina’s blood ran cold but she kept a stoic expression. Standing at six feet tall, a hawkish and smartly dressed man with half a smirk was flanked by more men similarly dressed as him.

“Fuck me,” she thought.

Whoever this man was, he definitely had a presence, a certain air about him that commanded your attention and respect. The type of man that when he talked, people listened. It reminded her of Tommy. The worst part of all though, was that the stranger was undeniably handsome.

"Yes, can I help you?" Selina repeated calmly.

“Where’s the funeral?” the man asked, walking further in the shop.

“Quite the accent. He’s certainly not from here,” she thought to herself. “Italian, but he sounds American as well,”

The stranger’s voice was smooth, reminding her of honey. Instinctively, Selina went on alert. This man, whoever he was, radiated a persuasive aura and a potentially manipulative one as well. His tone said it all. She just knew underneath this man's gentlemanly exterior hid a hibernating beast.

“Why all the solemn faces?” he questioned, looking around the room, before his eyes connected with hers.

Those coal black, mournful eyes burned into her dark brown ones intensely, and she returned the stare in equal measure. It was not the time to show even the slightest amount of fear.

“Solemnity isn’t the right word,” Selina answered, as Julia slowly emerged from the back room with boxes in hand. “Maybe it’s confusion my colleagues and I share,” she corrected, putting the pencil eraser to her chin.

“And what’s so confusing about us?”

“It could be the fact that there are…….” Selina trailed off, starting to count the men standing behind him with her pencil. "One, two, three, four, five, six,” she counted, before finally pointing her pencil at the man with inky black hair who was clearly the leader. “Seven,” she finished, staring pointedly at him.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Naveen’s hand had discretely moved to underneath the counter again. This time, he wasn’t reaching for a sharpening stone, his hand was resting on a revolver.

“There are seven men standing in my dress shop, and I don’t know why that is,” Selina stated, glancing around the room.

He grinned, “Ah, so you’re the owner of this fine establishment, you’re its namesake,” he said, walking up to the counter and standing directly across from her. “Well, Miss Clarke, have you considered that the seven men standing here might want dresses made for their girls?” he suggested.

“And yet, none of you brought any of your ‘girls’,” Selina observed, wagging her pencil. “Hard to do measurements on your girlfriends if they’re all figments of your imagination,” she remarked, which the man smirked at.

He leaned against the counter, his eyes boring into hers once more.

“Signorina, I’ve been told you deal in a great many services,” the man hinted, as she placed the pencil down.

“As do many other dressmakers,” Selina retorted, interlocking her fingers. “Signore,” she added.

A smirk tugged at the Italian’s lips, his eyes merely twinkling with mirth at Selina’s use of his language.

“How many deal with the criminal underworld?”

That one sentence caused an uneasy silence to envelope the room. Tension hung in the air, tight and overbearing. The atmosphere was suffocating.

“Shit,” she thought.

“Mr. Varma and Miss Russell, we have deliveries that need to be taken out today,” Selina informed, gazing between the two of them. “Why don’t you two do it now, before it gets too late,” she said, as the man pushed away from the counter, a smug grin on his face.

“Miss Clarke—”

“Now, Miss Russell,” Selina ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,”

Julia nodded in defeat and slid off her white coat and hung it up. Reluctantly, Naveen mimicked her movements, carefully pulling off his coat as well. Grabbing two of the three white parcel boxes, each neatly tied with a bow, Julia walked between the Italian man and Selina, shooting her one last wary glance before leaving with the chime of the bell. Naveen’s eyes swept over the room as he took the last parcel off the counter, slowly moving away from her.

“Wait,” Selina called, grabbing his arm. She rose from from the stool and pushed herself onto her tip toes. She leaned towards him as if she was going to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Be careful. Make sure that you aren’t followed,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear.

“Christ, you’re not sending the boy to war,” the man jested, causing his henchmen to chuckle.

Selina’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent as she pulled away from him.

“I’ll be careful with the dress, Miss Clarke. Don’t you worry,” Naveen assured, sending her a smile as he backed away.

“Make sure you take the scenic route, Mr. Varma,” the man ordered. “There are some things Miss Clarke and I need to discuss,” he explained, glancing over towards her.

Naveen shifted his eyes to Selina and she nodded her head, mouthing “Go,” to him. The little bell rang again, signaling to Selina that she was now utterly alone in her own shop which was currently being occupied by a group of strange Italian men.

“You run a tight ship, for a dress shop. I’m impressed,” he said, nodding his head. “Most times I tell people to do something, they do it, stranger or not. But not your workers,” he noted. “They look to you for your blessing,” he noted.

“It’s like you said, this is my namesake. What I say goes,” she countered coolly.

He chuckled, “You’ve got spirit, I like that,” he commented, pointing a finger at her.

Abruptly, the man started speaking in Italian and his henchmen immediately filed out of the shop.

“So, do you want a dress made or not, sir?” Selina asked, crossing her arms. “Though, I still don’t know how would you do it. Your girl isn’t present for measurements,” she said, an expectant look on her face.

“I’m staring at the perfect model,” the Italian stated, almost purring.

There was a hunger in the man’s eyes as they traveled down her body, and oddly enough, it sent delicious chills up her spine and flooded her body with warmth.

Selina’s eyebrows rose, “Women come in all different shapes and sizes,” she pointed out. “It’s simply impossible for she and I to have the exact same measurements,” Selina explained, shaking her head.

“Let me worry about that,”

“How am I going to take the measurements? I sent Mr. Varma and Miss Russell out,”

“I’ll do them,”

Selina couldn't help it. Her poker face broke as she let out an incredulous laugh.

“You?” she questioned, her brow arched. “You’re not a tailor,” she stated, looking him up and down.

“My uncle is one,”

“Oh, quite the qualification,” she quipped.

“Humor me,” he said, another smirk on his face. “I want to talk business with you,”

“Other than dresses?” Selina asked knowingly, unbuttoning her coat.

“Other than dresses, Miss Clarke,” he repeated, as she laid the coat onto the counter.

“Hmm,” Selina hummed, moving from behind the counter. “For your girl’s sake, I hope you know what you’re doing,” she commented, brushing past him.

She walked towards a section secluded from the rest of the shop. Immediately her eyes fell upon the two cushioned chairs near the open entrance, the three panel mirror directly positioned in the center of the room, and a single door to the changing room. Entering the space, Selina stood in front of the mirror and briefly shut her eyes while rubbing her temples.

“This is such a terrible idea, why did I ever agree to this? I don’t even know who I’m speaking with,”

“You still haven’t told me your name,” Selina reminded loudly, still massaging her temples. “How am I to do business—”

“Luca Changretta,” he murmured hotly against her ear, his breath leaving goose bumps on her flesh. “Of the Changretta Family,” he added, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Can’t say that I’ve heard of you, Mr. Changretta,” Selina responded, trying to control her breathing.

She needed to remain calm, and keep herself composed and grounded. She refused to show him how much he was affecting her. That would just be embarrassing and mortifying.

“I’m truly hoping that there’s another Changretta family out there, and not the one I’m thinking about,” she thought.

“But,” Luca began, his cold nose butting against her ear. “I’ve heard of you, Miss Selina Clarke,” he informed, finally pulling away from her. “The dressmaker who has a penchant of keeping her ear to the ground,” he went on, now standing in front of her.

“It’s not a crime to be a well-informed citizen, is it?” Selina asked curiously, looking up at him.

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed, shrugging his shoulders.

“Then why—”

She was cut short, inhaling sharply as slender fingers slid around her waist and cinched a ribbon of measuring tape tightly against her. The motion had her nearly made bump chest to chest with Luca. He gazed down at her, studying Selina with shrewd eyes; reading her like an open book. She felt like she was being pried apart by the dark pupils roaming her face. She felt completely naked. Selina drew a shuddering breath, each and every one raising her chest up and down

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, she was surprised that Luca couldn’t feel thumping in her chest, but she was eternally grateful.

“However,” he continued, briefly glancing at her lips. “Not many citizens make it their business to know the ins and outs of the criminal underbelly of their city,” Luca remarked, his eyes focusing back to the measuring tape.

“And why is an American interested in learning such knowledge?” Selina wondered, finding it much easier to breathe. “Don’t you have your own criminal underworld to worry about?” she asked again. He ignored the question and instead removed the tape from around her. “Unless, you’re a criminal yourself,” she figured, feeling the tape drop to her hips.

“I’m not just any old criminal, Miss Clarke. I’m head of a mafia family,”

“Fucking hell, the Sicilian mafia!”

Gingerly, he brought his arms around Selina, circling her bust and pinching the tape at the side. Luca stared at the number before smirking to himself, not even bothering to hide his gaze on the hint of cleavage from her top.

“Men can be such pigs,” she thought.

“The Changretta Family,” she began, getting his attention away from her breasts. “Still doesn’t ring a bell,” she lied.

“I wouldn’t expect it to,” Luca answered simply. “But I do know, that you’ve heard of another prominent family in this city,” he said, with a knowing stare. “One full of fucking gypsies,” he added.

“You’re talking about The Shelby Gang,” Selina replied, her face neutral.

“Shit, what did Tommy step into now?”

“Indeed I am,” Luca confirmed, as holding her arm up with his large hand and stretching the tape along it, starting to measure her left arm.

“Of course I’ve heard of them, who hasn’t?”

Luca read the tape before pulling it away, “What have you heard then?” he questioned.

“The same as everyone else I suppose,” Selina answered absentmindedly, as Luca finished measuring her other arm. “Cuts people a smile and blind ones that can see. Fiercely loyal to each other and little bit volatile,” she described, shrugging her shoulders. “Of course, that depends on which way the wind blows each day,” she noted.

In a way, Selina was being truthful, she mostly kept herself out of Peaky business, focusing mainly on her craft. Of course, that is not to say Selina did not know the ins and outs of the organization, she was very much aware of their dealings. Today was different, as it had shown Selina that her approach staying out of it didn't always go to plan. The Peaky Blinders affairs had landed right on her doorstep.

He paused, “You must heard more than that,” Luca said, eying her skeptically.

“Must I?” she asked back, cocking her slightly. “I hear just enough that my ears don’t get cut off,” she retorted.

The room fell silent and the tension between them was palpable again. It was thick and bulky, impossible to ignore. Luca and Selina stared each other down, neither backing off from the other. It was there, a new type tension began to unfold, one of the carnal nature. Selina felt something stir deep inside, something that she hadn’t experienced a while. Longing. Desire.

“I’m quite sorry that you traveled all this way and I couldn’t be of assistance,” Selina stated, finally breaking strained silence.

“Oh, just the opposite sweetheart,” Luca replied, the heat in his gaze burning through her like a wildfire.

“If I may ask,” Selina began, looking up from her lashes. “What’s an American mafia leader interest in a British one?” she asked, her voice cautious.

Luca let out a series of tsks and shook his head. Already standing close to each other, he reached his hand out and gently ran a finger down her cheek.

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head about that,” he answered, tapping the tip of her nose.

“You think I’m pretty, Mr. Changretta?”

“I think you’re a helluva lot more than pretty, Miss Clarke,” Luca stated, staring at her lips once more.

Another shiver coursed through her from the combination of his accent and his close proximity. Selina was inches away from him, their lips barely touching, breath mingling together in the tiny space between them.

“I do have one more thing to share with you,” Selina admitted breathily.

“What’s that?” Luca asked, his breathing just as ragged.

She stood up on her tiptoes, leaning forward to press her lips to his. But, at the very last second she dipped her head and ghosted her lips over his jawline.

“You’re a terrible tailor,” she whispered into his ear, before drawing back as he chased after her mouth.

Luca let out a frustrated puff of air, chuckling lightly against her cheek.

“You’re a fuckin tease,” he said, a slight growl in his voice.

Selina smiled as she used her hand to cover his own, guiding the slender fingers to slip up underneath her skirt.

“You didn’t take measurements of my thighs,” she reminded, her tone dropping an octave.

Her skirt rose all the way to the apex of her right hip, revealing thick thighs encased in sheer material of her stockings. Luca swallowed audibly, his fingers tracing over the fabric.

“Silly me, how could I forget,” he murmured, slowly dragging his eyes over her exposed leg.

Luca knelt in front of her, letting his cool fingers caress the bare skin where the stockings ended. Slowly, his hand curved over her hip, squeezing roughly at her backside. Unconsciously, Selina’s head fell backwards, her lips parting with a breathy sigh as her eyes fluttered shut. Her heart was beating wild in her chest, like it was about to explode. The only thing keeping her steady was her hand on Luca’s shoulder and the grip on the back of his neck.

He tugged at her leg slightly, pulling her closer to his face and slid his nose over her rich skin. Luca inhaled deeply, breathing in the flowery perfume she put on in the morning before planting his lips on her flesh. Slow, languid, and hot open mouthed kisses that trailed up her leg as Luca started to undo the clips holding her stocking up.

Loud gasps and pants escaped past Selina’s lips, her eyes screwing shut instinctively. Luca’s hair was no longer neatly slicked back, not with her manicured nails mussing it up. Suddenly, the cool sensation of the measuring tape around her thigh, shocked her. The ribbon almost felt like it was burning her already hot flesh. Pulling away from her thigh with a soft smack, Selina could feel Luca’s damp, warm breath fanning across skin.

“Since I’m no tailor, I may need assistance on where to measure from,” Luca stated, his breath coming out in short puffs.

A genuine smile finds its way to Selina’s face and she lets out an airy giggle, opening her eyes. Luca was already staring up at her, the intensity of his stare made her heart skip a few beats. Selina ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck.

“Mr. Changretta, you’ll be glad to know that there are three ways to do that,” Selina informed, a pleased smile on growing on her face. “And I would be more than happy to teach you,” she offered cheekily.

Part II

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #black fanfiction #black oc #luca changretta x reader #black!reader #luca changretta #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders oc #luca changretta x oc #poc!reader #woc!reader

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deeaselriel · 9 months

Text

Everyone has been treating Elriels SO BAD and disgustingly over the years, and when we defend ourselves we are painted as the “mEaN gUyS”. I’d dare to say that we are the “saints” of this fandom. I know there are some Elriels that can come off more rude than they should, but this is life. Nothing is perfect.

But a hard pill for y’all to swallow is that Elriels are usually soooo peaceful, minding their business and just enjoying their CANON content. They create edits, fan arts and post about Elriel not harming anyone, but then YOU KNOW WHO comes after us, ON OUR ACCOUNTS, ON OUR PRO ELRIEL VIDEOS, PICS OR THEORIES, that have absolutely NOTHING to do with their crackship(s), and spew their venom. They speak so many lies that don’t even come close to what is the CANON content of the books. They insult us and call us names, they bullied some creators SO BADLY they refuse to do Elriel fan arts anymore. YOU ALL ARE DISGUSTING AND I PRAY TO GOD FOR KARMA TO HIT SO HARD! I myself was a victim of y’all’s bullying when I did NOTHING! I just appreciated my Elriel and put facts on the table. Y’all told me I deserve to be R@PED just like Elain deserves!!!!

We, Elriels, have been put in a corner by THE ENTIRE FANDOM! This mob mentality made y’all treat Elriels like people with some kind of disease and it’s so sad honestly.

I’m not even being biased when I say that Elriels are usually very good people minding their business and the other stans of those 2 ships (y’all know) are constantly attacking us and making fun of us out of nowhere. They keep making content about Elain making fun of her, but yeah, they don’t like her. Lol. Y’all are so obsessed and have such internalized misogyny it’s scary. Especially when El didn’t do anything wrong, besides maybe the thing with Feyre that she’s making up for it. She’s a saint compared to many others in that serie, yet… she’s hated for liking to bake and plant flowers. Make it make sense. 😶

I think it’ll be ok for everyone to acknowledge WHO exactly is the most toxic in this fandom; who’s constantly attacking us for PUTTING FACTS on the table, who’s bullying artists into being scared to draw Elriel anymore, who’s harassing SJM at this point with a crackship that has 0 buildup. WHO IS SENDING DEATH THREATS to people so randomly just because, who is wishing R@PE on REAL people? The list is so long I just can’t…

I always knew that the mob mentality is forever going to be present, but OH MY GOD. These people that hate Elriel and ship the other ship just because “everyone does”, those going into the books already shipping Gw*nriel because “some content creators of TikTok said they’re sooooo endgame”, THOSE BIG ACCOUNTS THAT SPREAD ELAIN HATE JUST BECAUSE IT’S “TRENDY”. Y’all are SO pathetic; I wonder if you can think on your own.

Should I also talk about how often y’all don’t acknowledge what’s in those books related to Elriel? There are tons of evidence y’all pretend it’s not there and have THE NERVE to say Az only wants El for s*x. Bro, Feyre when she couldn’t read would’ve understand these books (and Elriel) better than y’all. 🤓 The delusional world y’all live in makes me laugh. What’s even funnier is when you are the ones making fun of US, when we have all our proof that Stands with us. WE ARE ON THE CANON SIDE, if we can say it this way.

Literally at this point, STOP being so toxic, and let Elriels IN PEACE. Acknowledge that Az and El have feelings for each other and that EVERYTHING points to them as endgame, and even SJM herself said that “it’s obvious”. None of us would’ve have any problem if y’all only acknowledged that Elriel is for the next book, and then go on with your day and make X head canon ships. It’s not harming to ship Az with someone else for fun, but when it comes to the ACTUAL BOOK & CANON, the answer it’s only Elriel. Just stop lying to yourselves. And stop playing the victim when Elriels have been like in prison for many years, being pushed aside and all. WE ARE THE VICTIMS OF THIS WHOLE FANDOM. The fact that I’m scared to even write a comment positive about Elriel or my girl Elain because I just know someone’s gonna say something “ironic” or bash me for whatever reason, says A LOT. And it’s the case for soooo many Elriels.

One last thing, I know we are reading fantasy books, but at least don’t make a fantasy of a couple the main talk of this fandom, lol. The couple should actually have “history”, build up & hints/ foreshadowing. CANON SCENES. And only Elriel has them. BYE. 🩷🌸💙🦇

#acotar #elriel #pro elriel #elriel endgame #elriel supremacy #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro azriel

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theredwritingwitch · 11 months

Text

Soulmate Fic- Sign of Booty

Pairing: Ezra x reader

Soulmate AU: Whatever is written on your own skin, then appears on your soulmate’s skin as well

Words: 1.4 K

Warnings: butts, implied sex, ass slap

Notes: Was writing a big one shot then saw Pedro’s butt...

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Your fingers trailed up and down his lower back, softly praising the slope of his side and running up the soft muscle all the way up to the hill of his butt. Curling your body over the lower side of the lazy man under you, your cheek rested just above his curving lower cheeks. Your palm touched down on his butt, flowing down the slope to the curve of the back of his thighs. Slowly your hand swooped off his body for a moment and then came back to his supple thigh just to make the sluggish trip back up his butt and around his back to his side.

“If you continue with this enchanting ritual that you are conducting out of your hand, my gem, then I won’t be able to praise you as the goddess you are. Rising from the grave you’re slowly sending me to is not a hat trick I know.” Your hand paused and lifted from the round end of the man that grunted at your pause. “Then again if you stop, I will be of mind to sulk in my loneliness.”

You hummed and smiled into Ezra’s back as your hand went back to stroking his loose muscles. Your miner, your part time lover, huffed out a delighted sigh. The two of you had repeated this night many times before. He would come for a week, sometimes for a day, get his fill of you while also filling you, and leave for his next mining excursion. That’s how the two of you worked. You were around when he needed you, he showed up when you wanted him the most.

It was best to describe Ezra as a swing between a lazy feline laying in the sun and a whirlwind of smoke and shrapnel. Many times Ezra had been content to laze around with you, happy to stroke the inside of your thighs or rest his head on the valley of your chest. But there had been times where you could see his sharp teeth, his bemused and burning grin, his quiet influx to burst into fire and brimstone. Your Ezra was capable of anger to anyone who dared wrong you. But he was capable of flourishing you in pure rays of amber and gold.

“Just a little deeper with those fingers my gem, will you?” Ezra mumbled into his pillow.

Kissing him above his butt, you dug your finger deep into his tissue, huffing when a moan was heard from above your head and large, calloused fingers twisted into your hair. Your nails left faint red marks into his thigh and up his ass.

You adored this man. He was the one you wished to be here forever. When you were with Ezra, you found yourself lost in his lure. He captured your attention indefinitely as you caught him just as well. You never knew when exactly he would show up or when he would leave, but while he was around, it was always just the two of you. Soulmates were far from your mind.

“Don’t need one, I’ve got what I want right here,” he had stated one night as you innocently asked what the future held. Both of you were naked in bed, as was normal, you didn’t dare to look at his determined eyes until he grasped your chin and held you closer to him. “You hear me, gem? I’m keeping you till you leave me.”

You weren’t leaving him though. Maybe one day you would finally meet your soulmate, maybe not, but this man had burrowed his way into your soul, there was no getting rid of Ezra once he had planted his feet. The man was a lover but he was a prospector, the honeyed words flowed from him as he snatched away whatever he found to be treasured. Even if your soulmate showed up at your front door, dressed in a bow, Ezra was the one to close it and lock them out. Often you found yourself being quite honest with no remorse for a particular thought: you would be happy with his stubbornness.

Your soulmate was out there, you knew it. It had been some time but before Ezra and even at the start of your relationship, you would draw a little something on your skin. Sometimes a to-do list, sometimes a drawing out of boredom. But it gave you a small bit of happiness to know the marks on your skin would show up on your soulmate’s skin. Once in a while you would find marks on your skin as well, additions to your bored musings, their own to-do lists. Then Ezra showed up. While he visited you, there would be no marks. The pair of you were always so tangled with each other, too enthralled to see the rest of the world.

Eventually the marks stopped. You neither gave them or received. At first you were broken hearted not to see any marks from your soulmate. But then Ezra would walk through the door, and the world was gone. Your soul was for another now. Your mate was lying here in bed under you.

“You signing your name into my thigh, gem? I swear I can feel the looping and dotting of your signature.”

“Maybe I’m just marking my territory,” you laughed as you propped up your head from your lover’s back and traced your finger up the back of his thigh. “Shall I sign it here, or…” your finger glided up to the cushion of his ass, “Or here?”

“Where the sun don’t shine but the moon does glow,” Ezra chuckled as he lazily opened one eye.

Skimming the hill of his butt one last time, you deepened your nail into his flesh. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to mark him. Signing the swoops and curves of your name to his curved ass, and stamping it with your kiss, you watched the red mark take to his skin. Maybe another soul not under the thumb of a greedy and intoxicating man would wonder about the whereabouts of their lover’s soulmate, but not you. Not a single thought was had to Ezra’s soulmate, if they would ever notice the writing on their ass or not.

Ezra certainly had not thought about soulmates when he rolled to his side, rolling you onto your back, and then hurriedly manhandling you over so your butt was held to the air.

“Branded me just for your eyes, did you?” Ezra growled as he kissed and bit your shoulder. “Shall I return the favor? Give you a beauty mark that only I can admire and worship?” Ezra lowered his trail of kisses and bites to your back, running down your spin to the swell of your own ass. You giggled and you felt the tiny bites and licks run over one ass cheek and then to your next when you suddenly felt nothing but the heat of Ezra’s breath.

Curiously you lifted your head from the pillow to look over your shoulder at your bewildered lover.

“It seems my sweet soul, that there is already an owner of your fine ass…” Ezra admitted with a wide smirk forming on his face.

You turned to see what he was talking about till Ezra’s large hand pushed you back down. “No peeking till I’m done with my art, then I’ll let you have a look.”

Huffing in frustration, you complied, not that you could fight against Ezra’s hold. Ezra didn’t have much for a nail, but he dug in as deep as he could with what he had, running his nail over and over his name till it finally took to your skin. With a swift smack to your ass, a squeak from yourself, you went to stand to look in a mirror to see what he was talking about earlier until the rounded cheeks of Ezra’s ass came right into view.

“I present to you, our own signed and sealed pack of devotion, my soul.” Before you was one red cheek marked with your own signed name and another untouched cheek with the exception of the signed name of Ezra’s own signature. “What a pair of matching buns we are, aren’t we?” Ezra quipped as he dodged a swat to his own ass from you as you rose to tackle your cheeky soulmate.

#Pedro Pascal #prospect ezra #prospect #ezra prospect #soulmateau

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shawtylilsalty · 10 months

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desperate desire | PJM

Pairing: park jimin × reader

Rating: 18 +

Genre: Mafiavampire!jimin, fallenangel/demon!oc, ancient family rivals, supernatural au ( 21st century )

Summary: jimin as the vamp was never supposed to interact with the demons but things escalated at the dark masquerade ball, while you're the only one who could physically hurt him in the worst way... yet also the only one who could heal him to his best too.

Warnings: This is purely for fictional purposes ONLY 18+ content, violence, aggressive behaviour, mention of blood, dark and unsettling themes, please read at your own risk

A/n: mafia shit can be cringe but trust me on this one hotshots, also third person just made sense with jimin so don't question it. first fic on Tumblr! Show some love <3

" You're the woman I kissed, Aren't you? " The country's most ruthless, heartless mafia vampire spoke; looking back at her, making his perfectly made fangs appear for just a second. The tone of his voice was scary, terrifying even. His mouth was agape, trying to process how he kissed the woman from the family of their rivals.

I knew coming here was a mistake.

"It was not by choice, no matter how desirable you may be, if i knew it was you i wouldn't even be at that dark place" I spoke as he dragged me down towards the royal basement of this stupid ball.

all the supernaturals attended the dark ball. It only takes place once every 58 years; it's been some kind of ritual since the past 13430 years- if i cared enough about it I'd be a part of the royal founding families by now.

"You should be glad the lights were down low" i trailed off for a moment before quickly pulling my arm from his hold as we stopped at the end of the stairs. "Because if i knew in the slightest? I wouldn't hold back from ruining that pretty face of yours"

Jimin's piercing red gaze burned into hers. He was angry, and furious. He wanted to strangle the life out of her! He approached her, his face inches from hers as he stared at her with his penetrating eyes; his cold breath invading her mouth. He stared her down before suddenly gripping her arm and pulling her close to his chest, whispering into her ear in a demonic tone.

"Back up now park jimin" I sing his name out in the sweetest way possible. Full of mockery. "don't you underestimate my powers"

I look at him with a cold stare while a dark smirk plastered on my face

" Do you want to die? " His red eyes flickered dangerously as he leaned even closer to her face, his arm flexing as he grabbed her arm harder causing her to squirm uncomfortably against his hold. His voice was cold, ruthless just as his eyes were.

"you see..You just can't kill me even if you try" i twisted to one side and stared at him with a tilted head, ignoring the hard grip on my arm

"I'm immortal baby"

I say as if it wasn't obvious enough. The demonic tone comes naturally as i push him away with all my power, having him stumble back against the opposite wall.

The Mafia Vampire's jaw clenched into a tight fist as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. The sight of her mocking tone made his blood boil with anger. How dare she talk to him like that?! His hand suddenly whipped out, his palm slapping across her face before gripping onto her chin tightly. He moved his head towards her neck, his eyes flickered red as his sharp fangs grew longer.

I stare at him as I feel my head ring a little but as a demon of the night it Just didn't feel more than a pinch on a chick

"you know..." i hold eye contact as the next words roll out from my mouth "Just admit it. you want me. like hell, i might even agree"

The woman's mocking tone was enough to send Jimin over the edge. He felt his teeth grind as his eyes flickered red with fury, the urge to bite into her neck and drink her blood overwhelming him. In a fit of rage, he attempted to lunge at her

As if already used to my sarcasm, it doesn't stop him as he's about to draw blood from my neck-

but before that happens i pull back just a little to bang my head on his nose with all my power, the moment he holds himself for conscious stability i kick on his groin, Twice.

I chuckle as i watch him fall down on his knees. I'll never understand how men can talk all big and bad but wont even survive a quick pull to their nuts? I mean as long as it favours me who am I to complain.

"Now now you poor thing..i get that I might smell sweet as honey given that a night demon has an addicting scent but that doesn't mean you lose your manners to ask nicely, hm?" I bend down to pat his head as if he's a dog

He clenched his teeth together tightly, gritting in pain as tears welled in his eyes. He glared at the demon pating him and growled deeply.

"You look mesmerizing with tears in your eyes, did you know that?" I look at him, amused by the demonic thoughts passing through my head

The woman's taunting tone made his blood boil with fury, his fangs grew longer as they threatened to break the skin of her neck. His piercing red eyes narrowed into thin slits as he looked at her menacingly, breathing heavily. His teeth ground together tightly as he clenched them and tried to control his murderous thoughts. His arm shot out, trying to grab her neck once again.

I roll my eyes at his pathetic try to grab my neck yet agaiN

I get back up on my feet as i watch him still recover from my previous stunt

" To think vampires might have a better healing process " i chuckle darkly as i stomp my high heel on the back of his palm which was still on the floor

The Vampire's eyes widened as the woman stomped on his hand, her heel piercing into his palm and causing a sudden sharp pain to shoot up his arm. Gritting his teeth as tears welled in his eyes, he quickly moved away from her foot. He rubbed his bleeding palm and looked at it with hatred, still not healing. He growled a deep throaty moan in anger, looking at her with rage in his eyes.

"You have some nerve to talk down on me y/n" He grabbed her arm tightly, his eyes flickering red with anger as he squeezed her arm painfully.

It's something about him with heavy tearful eyes that made the demon shift on her spot

I sigh "you're lucky I'm feeling generous today"

Using my other free hand to draw blood from the arm he grabbed, I placed it near his soft lips as he slowly gets back up on his feet

"Go ahead, have a drink."

Jimin looked at the woman, his eyes flickering red with hunger, his mouth watering as he stared at the blood before him. Taking in a deep breath to collect himself, he stared at the woman. He smirked, closing his eyes as he opened his mouth and lapped up the blood. The taste of blood mixed with the woman's sweet scent made his head spin, sending him into a dizzying daze, feeling almost drunk.

"Glad I'm enjoyable to you" I gulp as I hear him moan while still having that intense hold on my arm with his mouth still attached to my arm inching his way toward me.

The Vampire let out a deep moan of satisfaction as he drank from her, his grip loosening slightly as he looked at her lustfully. His eyes were filled with a lustful haze as he looked at her with a look of desire, his fangs dripping with her blood. His eyes flickered red with hunger as he lapped up the last of her blood, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. He smirked at her, his eyes flickered dangerously as he licked his lips.

"Keep looking at me like that and i might start drawing every ounce of your blood until you're left dry "

I laugh at the thought because it's impossible, demons can only feed on souls and i intend to keep this one around

Jimin scowled at the woman, He didn't like being threatened. He stared at the woman, his piercing red eyes flickering dangerously as he grabbed her throat tightly with his other hand, squeezing hard enough to make her choke. "You don't talk to me like that y/n"

I start feeling my throat close up

even though I can't be killed it still sucked to have somboby choke the living hell out of you.

it's the helplessness that triggered my rage; as I let out my spell in a whisper

"diaphanoüs "

My pupils dilate pitch black as i watch his body turn transparent as I put my hand through his chest grabbing his heart strongly, only to show him what he's dealing with.

Pulling my hand out as i watch him fall back against the stairs, barely holding himself together against it as he turns pale but not enough to be declared dead

I Huff as the vampire makes no heavy attempt at fighting back

"come on i didn't actually pull your heart out, stand up straight already."

Jimin stared at the woman, glaring at her with piercing red eyes as she threatened to take his life. He could feel her grabbing onto his heart, but he was unable to move away. He stared at her in fear as she threatened to end his life. He didn't want her to take his life, not after everything he had worked for; all the people he had killed just to get where he was today. He looked at her, fear etched into his face as tears welled in his eyes. "I... I d-don't... w-want to die..."

I pause as my head snaps to look at him......was that him begging for mercy?

I let out a small laugh "when was the last time i heard you talk without growling after each word?"

I look back down at his wound where my hand went through a minute back which didn't look like it's gonna heal in this life time-

My panic sets in as i watch him breathing heavily

i look everywhere to find a solution- something, anything, until it clicked

Demon blood duh? what was i waiting for-

Before thinking twice I grab his mouth near my neck but halt when I watch him shake a little "Bite it before I change my mind "

" O-okay..." He whispered, his voice raspy, fear etched into his voice as he looked at her with pure sincerity. He obeyed, his body trembling as he leaned in, his fangs piercing her neck. He closed his eyes as the sweet taste of blood filled his mouth, the woman's aroma was intoxicating; the smell of sweet honey and flowers filled his nose. His eyes flickered red with lust as his heart beat faster every second he could feel his skin heal rapidly. This was by far the most pleasure he has ever felt in his long life.

I watch him grab me closer, surpassing a moan trying to bubble out of me

It all made sense, i could feel him release the aphrodisiac to cover up any feelings of pain

Being a half transitioned demon, I'd prefer calling me more as an fallen angel with a heart which only made things worse for me at the moment; as the blood in my heart passed the flow faster which means the vampire could drink more blood-

Hence the feeling of pleasure(sexual) heightened for the both of us

"Holy fuck..." i whimper, not worth holding in anymore

" Mmmm...you taste even better than i thought you would " He hummed in pleasure as he felt her warm blood filling his mouth, the taste was sweet, intoxicating, almost divine. He continued to drink, drinking her blood deeply as he pressed his body against her walking her back until they reached the wall, his breath ragged, his moans of pleasure filling the air around them. He tightened his grip on her, one behind her neck and the other on her waist, drinking greedily before suddenly stopping, his eyes flickered as he looked at her, his fangs dripping with her blood. " I-I have to stop..."

"Ah fuck, no don't stop... " i couldn't bring myself to open my eyes, too deep in the bliss

"..It won't kill m-me" i stutter the pleasure eating me alive-

Not to forget his double layered hard on which still manages to be seen; strongly pressed against my stomach, i slowly opened my eyes, desparate desire written all over my face

Jimin looked at y/n, his piercing eyes filled with dark desire as he stared at her. all his thoughts and worries melting away. He grinned, unable to control himself as he pressed his body against hers." You... taste... so... good..."

I exhale a shaky breath "Fucking hell, come here..."

Pulling him by his collar i smash my lips onto his, loving the way my blood lingers between our lips

The vampire gasped in surprise as the woman suddenly pressed her lips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in her- chest to chest. He melted into her kiss, his body trembling with pleasure as he closed his eyes, his tongue entering her mouth. He moaned into her mouth, his fangs gently nipping her top lip before pulling away from her with a soft exhale. He looked at her, The sight of her body, her warm blood dripping between their lips sent him into a dizzying haze, his eyes flickered red with desire as he ran a hand through her hair.

i lick my lips before leaning in to whisper against his lips

"Hold tight.. jimin" i smirk as i watch him follow my lips leaning forward

His heart fluttered in his chest as she whispered against his lips. Her voice was like music, sending his heart into a flutter of desire. He was completely under her control, ready to give into her every command. He looked at her, his eyes glowing with pure desire as he leaned in, kissing her deeply as he let himself be taken by his feelings.

With a snap of my fingers we teleport to my penthouse and direct to its master bedroom, lavish yet cosy and consistently follow a modern brief.

Not even worth breaking the kiss, it only ends up getting more heated and sloppier every second

Jimin gasped as the pair suddenly teleported into the woman's penthouse. The extravagant surroundings startled him, taking him out of his dizzying haze for just a moment. He quickly shook it off, pushing her against the wall and pressing his body against hers. He continued to kiss her feverishly, his hands roaming around her body, his heart beating faster with every second. His lips were rough against hers, his teeth nipping at her neck and lips roughly. The sight of the woman drove all sanity from him, lust and desire taking over his thoughts and judgement. " I want you... " He breathed against her.

I couldn't help but moan- hearing his soft voice was rare, a melody

I bite my lips as his eyes pierce through mine " I'm losing my mind because of you, jimin "

"I need you too...so badly" i bite his bottom lip a little too hard, licking the little drop of blood after, every little reaction from him was heavenly

" Mmm..." He moaned as she bit his lip, his eyes flickered red with desire as he pressed his body against hers. Her words sent his heart fluttering as he leaned against her, his hand pressing against the wall behind them. His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding in his chest, his desire for her was overwhelming. He leaned against her, his body trembling with excitement as his lips hovered close to hers. " I don't want to let go of you angel "

"There's no reason to" i smirk before grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling it apart until it rips

But before he could react, i push him back hard until he ends up on the bed, bouncing up a little by the soft mattress

The Vampire's heart fluttered as she pushed him onto the bed, ripping his shirt in the process. His red gaze followed the woman, his lips trembling as he stared at her with desire. The sight of her ripping his shirt sent his blood boiling with desire, his fangs growing slowly, his eyes glowing red with passion. He sat up on his elbows, looking at her with desire in his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. " Tell me..... what do you desire?"

"Only you my king" my voice laced with heavy desire as I got between his legs, spreading them apart ever so slowly

Jimin's heart skipped a beat as she spoke in that dangerous tone. He stared at her, his heart beating fast in his chest as she got between his legs, looking up at her with desire in his eyes. He groaned, his mouth watering as he looked at her. In an instant he switched us, from her taking the lead to him on top of her

His hands roamed all over her as he found her sweet spot on her neck, sucking like there was no tomorrow

Hands pinning her down to the bed as she desperately tried to find something to hold on to, ending up with her hands buried in his soft, beautiful, dark locks, tugging it a little hard

"i swear I'm done with these fucking games, i want you right now" he practically growled. one minute exploring her mouth and the next sucking and biting her neck softly as her pulse pounding under her skin

"fucking hell, I wanna eat you alive" he moaned low and possesive as he kissed her deeply. His hand held her by the neck, his breath ragged and shallow as his other arm wrapped around her back, pulling her close to him. his heart pounding in his chest as he lost himself in the kiss. His hunger for her blood was overpowering him, his body trembled as he pressed his weight against her.

" You're mine..."

"All fucking yours...give me everything you have to offer jimin.." i breath unevenly as i watch him drag his hands all over me only to rip me out of my dress half way

" Are you sure about that?" He whispered, a playful smirk plastered on his face, his voice soft and soothing as he stared into her eyes. His hands trembling slightly, his eyes flickered red as he stared at her. His mouth salivating as he looked at her, his body trembling with desire. He was losing control, the hunger for her blood was overpowering him. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her neck, his tongue licking her neck slowly. His hands trembled as he ran a hand through her hair, his breaths ragged as he looked at her, his eyes glittering with desire. " I'll make you beg for mercy, I'll do things to you that most would consider inhumane. Are you sure you want that?" He whispered seductively, his eyes glowing red with desire.

I grin as i reply "we were never the ones to be mundane in the first place my love" i couldn't help it but move my hips, trying to grind against him just for a good friction, shamelessly.

" Mm.. someone's desperate" it was his turn to chuckle as he teased

Reaching down just to rip any of the remaining dress left on my body throwing them far back somewhere in the room, he wasted no time, practically tearing every material he found in his way until i was left in nothing but my panties under him, which again were quickly disposed of.

He trailed his lips back down her body and started to mark her taking nips and then baring his fangs and burying them into her; which released a moan from her.

"Please jimin..just.. please fuck me" i couldn't hold it, i needed him in me and great heavens, i don't know what it what that got me to act like this but i was too far gone to care

As he sneaked his fingers between my legs "my, i was thinking about warming you up with my fingers first but look at you go baby, all wet and dripping just for me? He raised both his brows as we made eye contact, only to place those soaked fingers ever so slowly between his lips, which had me groaning as I fell back down.

Pulling me back up just to make my back face him, he pushes my face down on the mattress which only had me spread my legs willingly as he chuckled " how obedient " removing his last piece of clothing as he placed his dick right before my entrance, stroking himself on me only turned me into a moaning mess

"yes FUCK YES give it to me jimin!" Arching my back into him to push my ass back just to feel him a little more

"well then take it" he growled as he buried himself in me in one go which made me scream his name

"forgive me baby but that was the way to get in you quickly" he made sure to shower my back with kisses

Making sure to use his other hand to place it on my clit, rubbing it in a amazing pase

"oh...oh my fucking....feels so good jimin" i whined as i sucked him in, no name of shame because of how badly i wanted this

"fuck! you take me so well beautiful" the praise only made me moan louder as he started picking up his pace into an animalist way.

Jimin's mind was flitting to how amazing it would be to bite her right now, and he did. Reaching down to bite my shoulder a little too deep, which only had me scream his name.

the room started to fill with loud moans and groans, his hands all in my hair, goosebumps with every little contact he makes with my body, he pulled me back up only to place one of his hands on my titts- playing with it while the other made its way to my to my clit from the front yet again. I gasp as my head falls back on his shoulder

"come on baby I need you to come with me, think you could wait for me, angel?" Not even a second to spare "YES..i-i can" i could barely think as he angled to hit something new, i couldn't let it out though waiting for him to reach his limit, I held it

His dark eye glowed red glaring down at her he saw hers dilate pitch black, she was in pure bliss and he was the one giving it all to her

"I'm so..s-so close" i couldn't help but moan his name like a chant, it was like a spell on me and I loved every second of it

"come for me my angel" he let his voice out in the most low and seductive way possible, it was dripping in lust and it only pushed me through my edge.

Coming on his dick but not completely as i whimper "come inside me jimin" no clue of what's left and what's right, as if on perfect cue, just as it was getting all too much, jimin let out a low moan with my name as he finally let it all in, biting my neck so strongly to feel just on cloud 9, he came a little too hard as i came with him. Slowly his hips drew to stop and both of us finally began to compute with what just happened, not being able to keep it together I fell ahead but Jimin caught me in his arms before i could collapse completely

"that was the best thing that has happened to me in a while" he said matter-of-factly, holding me as he lay down next to me, facing each other i pushed my lips on his as he instantly grabbed my face to depend on the kiss

"promise me that will happen again" i look back at him as we pull away only to see pull up his annoying smirk

"who said we are stopping now?" He tucked my hair behind my ear and he continued "I've been waiting a long time to get you for myself and nothing's stopping me from having you in every way I can angel"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: damn that was like long long ( at least for me ) my first proper smut huh, how did it do for ya? Even tho I rushed the ending 🏄🏽Lemme know your thoughts, beautiful 💓

#jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts dark fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin #jiminvampire #dark jimin #bts x reader #yandere!bts #yandere bts #park jimim

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hermionegalathynius · 1 year

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Sweet Sixteen (2/11)

Second chapter, lets go!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: not any that I can think of.

Sirius Black Masterlist

Main Masterlist

First Chapter

Next Chapter

The library was even quieter on Saturdays.

Y/n suspected it was because no one ever felt like doing school work on the weekends, even though it was statistically the most efficient time to get stuff done. That was why she was getting stuff done. The past week had been... busy, to say the least. She had five essays due on Monday, two of which had to be a maximum of ten inches. Along with that she also had to draw up two charts for Astronomy and learn how to do Expelliarmus non-verbally by Tuesday. It was a lot, but she was used to it. In fact, she welcomed it. Academics had always been her strong point, and she intended to keep it that way.

"How would you describe Golpalotte's Third Law?" she mused to Remus, her usual study partner when he wasn't off galavanting with his friends.

He looked up from his own Potions paper, brown hair unusually messy from running his hands through it, "Well, Golpalotte said that the antidote to a blended poison isn't simply the antidotes to all the separate poisons in the blend mixed together. Instead you must find that one ingredient that will transform the poisons in to a combined whole, which will counteract the entire blended potion. As the textbook states, the true antidote to a blended poison is more than the sum of its parts."

Y/n smiled at him bemused, "I was trying to find a way to put it quote-unquote 'in my own words', but you've just recited the textbook."

Remus's cheeks went a little pink as he glared playfully at her, "Doesn't knowing that what I said is how it's written in the textbook also a sign that you know that paragraph as well as I do?"

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, "Well done Sherlock. 10/10 detective work, I must say."

He chuckled softly and the two of you went back to work.

———

Sirius yawned contently as he trudged up the stairs to the boys dormitory with James still chatting on excitedly behind him.

"... didn't even glare at me today, Pads! Not once! Maybe she's starting to fall for my Potter charm?" That last sentence he said with a cocky smirk on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows. Of course, Sirius wasn't looking at the time, but he knew his friend well enough to be able to guess.

He snorted, "Yeah right, Prongs. That's as likely as Dumbledore getting a girlfriend."

James punched him in the shoulder playfully, "Oi! Don't knock my hopes down! Especially when you might be in the same position as me very soon."

Sirius paused in front of the door into their dorm, "What's that supposed to mean?"

James strode past him, patting him on the shoulder, "I mean, your soulmate is the one girl in this school who doesn't swoon at your mere presence. She is also the one girl who you've never dared to try to charm because she makes you nervous."

Sirius glared at him, "Thanks for the reminder."

"Hey, I'm only stating it as I see it. You gotta admit it's a little ironic, mate. I mean, she's Y/n L/n, top of our year and the most Ravenclaw Ravenclaw I've ever seen. And you... well, do you get my point?"

Sirius sighed and flopped onto his bed, throwing an arm over his face, "Yes, I get your bloody point Prongs. Did it not occur to you that I've probably been thinking the same thing ever since I got her bloody name on my bloody wrist?"

James chuckled, "Alright, relax. I get it. You don't want to be reminded of the irony of your situation. I'll just sit here looking pretty then."

Sirius rolled his eyes even though James couldn't see them. His friend really was the most dramatic person he knew.

Then, as if to break Sirius out of his spiralling thoughts, an owl tapped on the window.

Sirius took his arm off of his eyes and sat up as James walked over to the window to let the bird in.

"That's odd," he said as he twisted the latch on the window, "We've never received post in our dorm before."

The owl flew straight to Sirius and perched on his bedside table, sticking out it's leg. Sirius quickly untied the letter from the bird's leg and gave it a little scratch behind the head as a thanks before it flew off again.

"Who's it from?" James asked.

"How am I supposed to know? I haven't opened it yet!"

"Then open it!"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

Sirius shook his head in exasperation as he broke the seal and pulled the piece of parchment out. The writing was small and neat, looking as if one of those muggle pinter things had made it.

Dear Mr Black

I would like to inform you that due to our conversation being cut short, I have taken your silence as agreement to go ahead with the tutoring sessions. Miss L/n has also been contacted and will be expecting you in the Library every Wednesday afternoon at 3 o'clock to dinner and every Sunday morning from 10 o'clock to 1pm. If you have any problem with the times of your sessions, please send me a letter explaining when you are free.

Sincerely, Professor Sikander

Sirius swallowed, his gut clenching. Not only was Y/n L/n his soulmate, but she was also supposed to be his tutor?

It was going to be a long year...

———

"Why do I have to tutor him, Sienna? The last time I spoke to him was in first year when I apologised for bumping into him on the train and he tried to flirt with me." Y/n complained as she got ready for bed that evening.

She had left the library at closing time after having spent the whole day there finishing all five essays and two charts, so she was knackered and in no mood for the letter she received upon arrival back in Ravenclaw Tower.

Sienna shrugged, "I don't know. But what I do know is he's cute and every single girl in this school would kill to trade places with you."

She wiggled her eyebrows at Y/n who grumbled, "They don’t need to kill anyone, I'd trade places with them in a heart beat if I could."

Her friend rolled her eyes, "Come on, Y/n. It can't be that bad? It's not like you have to socialise with him. You only have to teach him."

Y/n climbed into bed and gave her friend a small smile, "You're right, as usual. I'll survive. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Tag list:

@obscurilicious

@hphufflefan

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twst-drabbles · 1 year

Note

Hey there, Frosty again! Lemme just say I commend you for being able to churn out all that content. Now here I’ll give ya something to read! As always fashionably late, I think that should just be my catchphrase for this place. (I also have similar thoughts with Trey in the works somewhere. Let me if you’re interested and wanted those to. Thanks for your time!~)

As fun as pathetic yandere’s are I need someone presentable enough to show off you know? What good is a pet if it’s constantly lapping at yours heels.

Jade takes the spot for me currently. He’d be a quiet presences following beside you always prim and proper. I just love how self aware he is, knowingly doing everything. Being on someone’s mind constantly for simply existing is a fun thought, isn’t it? You’re kinda like this annoying constant ringing sound in his ears.

It is that self awareness that I'd assume to be his downfall. Which is why this yandere isn’t for the faint of heart! You either take the reigns or slowly he begins to creep into your every being and no longer is he a shadow but someone to you. Someone whose name you will remember, whose wants and dislikes you will familiarize yourself with, and who you'll get used to being around. Never let it happen.

His greed and yours is something you need to keep in check. He is an acts of service man and you want to ensure to heavily monitor what you allow him to do for you. Should you let slip any of your desires, let it be the simplest ones. Such as a snack you want or something similarly small. Anything bigger than this and his mind starts to wander and he'll be able to deduce what it is you want always. And then it becomes harder to say no every time he shows up. Suddenly he starts looking less like a slimy eel and more like someone you can trust.

If this skill is mastered then you've trapped him in a cage of his own making. He starts to get sloppy as his greed overtakes him. For you won't even give him the satisfaction of pleasing you for the long term. That self awareness rears it's ugly head again and suddenly he's worrying that anyone can provide for you the same way he has. He realizes that he can never be special to you in any way that matters.

He's floundering as he should be after all he is an eel on land. He'll be so hyper focused on being someone to you that he doesn't feel the collar tighten around his neck. And you have him in your grasp. Eels are cowardly creatures who rely on the element of surprise that comes from an ambush attack. Without that he won't dare make another move, it's hard wired in his head not to.

But I think he loves it most this way. The guys pretty twisted. A masochist willing to throw himself in anyway to achieve what interests him. In the end you're polishing the cage you've kept him in. Every single day. Your attention may falter but you know better then to turn your back on him. It seems he to is a staple in your life and he becomes the same annoying buzzing ringing in your ears. Perhaps you can only ever achieve a draw? But you guys are smart, so try and come up with a solution, yeah? I’ll leave it to you!

Hohohohoho you left a hefty one right here! I love it when you guys do that, it entertains me so.

If anyone has anymore analysis to send, by all mean, send them to me and I will comment.

Yeah, certainly having a yandere be somewhat presentable to show off is pretty neat to have and Jade pretty much has that in spades. Acts of service are pretty much what he does best, so, Jade being Jade, he would absolutely weaponize them as he has done so before, with the added benefit of giving special services that are only reserved for you.

Truly, a diabolical man to deal with. He really intends on becoming something that is indistinguishable from your daily life. Where, if you cut him off, it feels wrong to do so. Basically, Jade wants you to feel as possessive over him and he does you, cause it's not fun when it just a one person tango. And the minute you let yourself have some kind of attachment to him, his victory is very much at hand.

But, considering who I am and how I structure my yandere's, well, they're bound to failure starting from their very first move. Jade easily slots yourself into your life, but it is that same ease that makes him aware how easy he can be to replace. While we have little to no information about what goes on under the sea, and how different the system is down there, one can easily assume that the environment down there is one that encourages selfishness. Weaponize your cowardice, pack together to overwhelm, or just be straight up vicious. Either way, persistence is key and Floyd and Jade have those in spades. Until they get bored, but that's another conversation.

Now, how does go about winning whatever battle is going on with Jade? How do you keep him in line without him chaining you up in the process? It's surprisingly simple. Keep him busy. That's a routine most comfortable for him, after all. No need to give anything back. If you're the kind of person who easily feels guilt for giving back, you're not going to survive him at all.

Keep going about your routine, make no changes to accommodate him and keep tight to your goal. The doubts will pop up on their own and Jade will start doing more on his own. Jade is own worst enemy, and it is best to keep that in mind.

#admin #analysis #yandere

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crimsonedquill · 10 months

Note

Could you do a Imelda x Male MC (smutty) where before one of the timed races they make a bet and the MC lets her win and offers to buy her the newest broom but she wants something more from MC?

Consolation Prize (Imelda Reyes x m!MC)

Imelda ends up offering MC a special kind of consolation prize after he loses a time trial...

The amount of SMUT requests I'm getting all of a sudden – I guess I've tapped into a well of certain... cravings 😂

This took a bit longer than anticipated but I'm always happy to go the extra mile for my favourite Slytherin boss bitch 🖤

Content warning: NSFW (18+). For obvious reasons.

MC would have never described himself as a competitive person, if it hadn’t been for Imelda Reyes.

She’d smelled blood the moment he had first shown some interest in one of her time trials, and then she had him practically in her grasp before he even realised it. She was on him like a hawk, daring him to go higher and faster with every challenge, to provoke him just enough to keep drawing him back despite the demand of his studies. It didn’t take long for the other students to start commenting on how much time he spent outside of the castle, with Sebastian asking if he was going to make another blood sacrifice to Medusa every time he spotted him heading outside in his flying gear.

MC, for his part, didn’t mind the taunting. In fact, he’d come to rather enjoy flying with Imelda, particularly how she kept pushing him to seek out his limits and hone his craft. In her defence, he also quickly figured out that behind the snarky comments and cantankerous facade was a passionate girl simply yearning for an outlet, a suspicion she confirmed when she trusted him enough to open up about her dreams and aspirations. Their bond grew stronger and stronger as they kept challenging each other to be the best version of themselves, never passing up an opportunity for a competition.

That said, MC couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to what they both referred to as their simple friendship. He sensed it in the way she kept making seemingly offhand comments about his physique, or how her gaze always lingered just a little longer than necessary when he mounted his broom (though of course she kept insisting that she was merely assessing his technique). He wasn’t able to deny that her competitive spirit wasn’t at least a major turn-on either, though he couldn’t tell whether she was playing hard to get or simply looking to get a raise out of him – either way, he wasn’t going to risk his chances by suggesting something she obviously didn’t seem into half the time.

— — —

Imelda was already out doing practice laps by the time he came trudging up the Quidditch field, broom in hand. He took a moment to admire her flying as she soared around the pitch, her face holding an expression of complete concentration as the tails of her uniform fluttered behind her, like the wings of a large emerald bird. She caught sight of him and landed in the grass, stepping off as he walked up to her. “Hey, Imelda.”

“Took you long enough.” She turned to him with a big smirk on her face. “Got lost on your way here, as usual?”

MC shrugged. “Just figured I would give you the time to practice. I know you’re going to need it.”

His taunt drew a chuckle from her; he’d learned to speak her language a long time ago, to no insignificant expense of his own. “Let’s see if you fly as well as you talk. Nothing fancy today, just a single lap around the lake. Fastest one takes the win.”

“Sounds fine by me. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly finding himself with an idea. “Hey, I think I’m feeling lucky today. Care for a little wager?”

Imelda cocked her eyebrow in a way that made his heart involuntarily skip a beat. “Well, don’t you just know how to get a girl all excited? Spill it, flyer boy, what do you have in mind?”

“Right, here’s my thinking: if I win… you take me out on a date.”

“A date?”

“Only because I know it would be more of a humiliation to you than any other punishment I could come up with,” MC grinned. He knew he was betting big, essentially daring Imelda to admit to her interest, even though he was fairly confident she wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge. Sure enough, after a few seconds of contemplation, she nodded. “All right, not like you stand any chance to begin with. What’s in it for me though?”

“Well, I heard you’re in the market for a new broom. How’s that for a reward?”

“Piss off, ain’t no way you can afford that.”

MC shrugged. “I won’t need to.”

She gave him a funny look before smiling. “Fine then, you’re on. Just don’t come crying to me after I kick your arse.”

“I’d love to see you try.” MC gestured to the pitch. “Ladies first, then.”

Imelda wasted no time in mounting her broom and positioning herself at the start line. They exchanged one last look before MC drew his wand and fired off red sparks to mark the start of her lap. He kept a close eye on the time as she raced around the lake and stopped the counter as soon as he saw her arriving over the stands at the other side of the pitch.

“Three minutes and twelve seconds,” he said on her approach. “Not bad.”

“A slam dunk,” she smirked. “Are you honestly still even going to bother?”

“Hey, I’m not going to pass up on a free Butterbeer. Just watch me, I’ll even throw in a new record.”

She chuckled, automatically causing him to smile as well. He reckoned it’d be hard to convince any outsider that they weren’t absolutely flirting right now, even though he still wasn’t exactly sure where that left him.

MC mounted his broom and took off as soon as Imelda had given the signal. He did great on the initial stretch, blowing through the first couple of hoops with ease, so much so that his thoughts started to wander again by the time he reached the halfway mark. Considering he was very well in a position to win this thing, would a date really be the best way to win over Imelda? He supposed she would respect him for having beaten her in a fair fight, though it was hard to imagine the usually coolheaded Slytherin cherishing affectionate feelings for anything other than Quidditch – to not say anything of the fact that she probably wouldn’t open herself up to be vulnerable under any circumstances she didn’t control, like when they’d had the conversation about her family and flying ambitions. No, he sensed he was entirely betting on the wrong Hippogriff here.

He decided to slow down a little bit as he came up on the last bend, just enough to give Imelda the edge while also making sure to not arouse any suspicion. By the time he landed back on the pitch, he exerted himself to conjure up his best winner’s smile. “Well – how much time did I beat you by?”

“Bad news stud,” she said as she clearly made no effort to mask her glee, “three minutes and sixteen seconds.”

“Damn.” He slapped his broomstick in frustration. “Well, I better start saving, since it seems like I’m going to be in your debt for a while –”

“Mhm.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he certainly didn’t fail to notice the coy expression on her face, or the way she kept averting her gaze before finally looking back at him. “You know, since you’ve been a good sport and all – I suppose I could give you a consolation prize of sorts. A way for us to both get what we want.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just that –” She took a step towards him and flashed him a smile he had never quite seen before, “There’s something else I’ve been wanting to take a ride on.”

A silence fell between them.

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“You mean –” He swallowed. “Right now?”

She shrugged. “I’m game. Unless you don’t feel up to it, of course –”

“Uh, no, I definitely do.” He stepped up to her. “I’d very much like to do this with you, Imelda.”

She smiled as she took his hand. “There’ll be plenty of time for smooth talk, pretty boy. Right now I’m just eager to get a piece of my prize. Let’s go.”

MC was practically floating the entire way to the changing rooms. Once inside, Imelda led him into a small office just off the Slytherin changing room, which he presumed to be the team captain’s quarters. He watched her seal the door with a locking charm before she pocketed her wand and slipped her robe off her shoulders, leaving her in her pullover and trousers as she turned around to him. “Are you going to just stand there?”

Following her lead, he cast a nervous glance at the canvas walls as he relieved himself of his flying gear. “Are you sure no one will be able to hear us?”

“Not here, no. Enchanted walls. All the adrenaline gets me horny as fuck after matches, so I need my space to unwind.”

His head started to spin merely at the thought of Imelda fresh off her victory, sitting here by herself all sweaty and gasping as she worked her dripping cunt to release. She seemed to notice the expression on his face as she strode towards him with a sway of her hips and grabbed the front of his pullover, running a finger down the fabric. “There’s a good bunch of things you might not know about me yet.”

His tongue clicked in his dry mouth. “Tell me more.”

“Hmmm, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Lips grazed his lobe, passing along words that made him sway unsteadily on his feet: “I bet you’ve been wanting this for a long time, to fuck this nice, athletic pussy –”

His heart was pounding in his ears as she eagerly nuzzled his cheek, her lips finding his, conquering them with ease. He tasted the desire on her breath, leaving him throbbing hard against her palm. He felt her mouth settle into a wicked smile before she withdrew. “Not so fast, though. My prize, my terms. If you’re going to get in on this, you have to earn it, understand?”

He flashed her a smile. “Competitive even in bed, aren’t you?”

“You know me so well. Good, that’ll only help you.” She kissed him again before seizing him by the front of his pullover and practically flinging him across the room, landing him right on the chair in the corner. He was allowed barely a second to recover from his surprise before she was kneeling before him. He reached out to help her loosen the string of his trousers, but his hand was immediately met with a firm slap. “No touching. I want to see how long you manage before you’re begging to put your hands on me.”

At this point, he felt compelled to inform her that that would probably classify as cruel and unusual punishment, though no room was left for coherent thought as she pulled his bottom garments down to his ankles in one swift move. His cock instantly sprung to attention, a large drop of precum spilling from the swollen tip. He was proud to observe at least a glimpse of shock on her face before it settled into a grin, fingers stroking his thigh. “So this is what you’ve been hiding underneath all those clothes… colour me surprised. You’re packing a bloody nice tool, MC.”

Any words he might have wanted to utter in response were lost in a groan as he felt her fingers around him. Her face was frozen in concentration, tongue slightly peaking out of the corner of her mouth as if she were flying on her broom, chasing after a particularly elusive goal. She rubbed up and down a few times, smearing moisture along the length of his cock as she seemingly tried to get a sense of his girth.

“Hmmm yes,” she mused, “I’m going to have a lot of fun with this.”

Despite his best exertions, he failed to prevent a grunt from escaping. She brandished an evil grin as her hands rested at the base of him, feeling him pulse in her grasp. “You can have it, you know. My mouth on your cock. All I need to hear is a ‘pretty please’.”

Merlin, yes, he wanted to –

But he saw the trap for what it was and he knew he wouldn’t be doing himself any favours by being a pushover. So he persisted, bracing himself against the back of the chair as her expert hands worked his prick, using his own slick to coat him top to bottom. His breathing came in heavy and irregular intervals, bearing his desperation for relief, though fortunately it appeared that Imelda’s own impatience was catching up with her.

“Hmph, stubborn one, ain’t we?” she scoffed, using her thumb to spread out the blob of precum welling up from his slit all over his red head. “Fine, then. You’re lucky I’m dying to have a taste.”

He groaned as he felt her warm breath on his hardness, her tongue dragging along his entire length before she flicked at his tip, sending his mind spiralling into deeper depths of pleasure. “F-fuck, Mel…”

The corners of her mouth curled into a smile as she licked his head some more before finally closing her lips around him. His chest heaved as he saw – felt – her beginning to engulf his cock, dimpled cheeks swelling as her head bobbed up and down at a steady pace. She used her tongue to apply pressure on the sensitive spot at his base, chuckling as she felt him twitching in her mouth. He was so utterly mesmerised by the sight of it all that he had to marshal all his strength and willpower to keep himself from placing his hands on her temples and forcing her down until he was buried all deep and snugly inside her throat – but he only clenched his fists, his pride winning out on his lust for now.

He wondered if Imelda sensed his struggle, for she withdrew briefly to smirk at him, a thin strand of saliva briefly connecting her bottom lip to his tip before falling apart. “Still hanging in there, big boy? Good. I’m just getting started.”

Her promise left him bereaved of breath as she spat on his throbbing girth, using her fist to stroke him before gulping him down once more. He could tell her hunger was growing stronger, more insatiable. She seemed devilishly intent on having him teeter on the edge by the time she was done, swallowing him until he felt the walls of her throat constricting around his length. Lacking any measure to dictate the pleasure she was giving him, he at least decided to start thrusting his hips to assert a degree of control, eliciting a chuckle from her as her lips slid along his wet skin.

He wasn’t sure how much time he’d spent on the brink of orgasm until she came up for breath, using the back of her hand to wipe the mixture of her saliva and his juices from her chin. Her intent, however, became plain enough once she retreated to yank her trousers down her legs. “Right, then,” she growled. “Let’s not waste any more time. I’m eager to take a ride on that cock.”

MC wished for nothing else. He clumsily worked his pullover over his head, leaving him practically bare while he watched Imelda and idly stroked his hardness, priming it for her entry. Clad in nothing but her jumper and knee-high socks, he was utterly captivated by the sight of her toned legs, which she gracefully draped alongside his thighs as she climbed into his lap.

“You’ve been very quiet so far,” she observed as she seized his shoulders, thumbs slowly running over his skin.

“Just enjoying the show,” he uttered, which was not even a lie; he was just mildly worried he would be setting himself up for embarrassment the moment he allowed himself to indulge in any more pleasure than she was already giving him.

“Hmmm, good,” she hummed, her words cut short by a gasp as her heat met with his, her folds causing a delightful friction against his thickness. “Fuck, if only you knew how long I’ve been wanting this –”

The pride he felt at her reciprocation of his feelings lasted only mere seconds as she lifted herself on her knees, lining him up with her entrance. A moan fell from her lips as she sank down on him, nothing of what he had experienced so far quite comparing to the sensation of her walls swallowing him in.

“Shit, that’s too fucking good –” she gasped, using his shoulders as support as she began rolling her hips, settling into a nice pace that left MC gritting his teeth. He couldn’t agree more; she was way too bloody divine, the way her ass bounced into his lap as she cursed through parted lips, not merely engaging in some physical act but using him for her own pleasure. He was aching to touch her, to show her just how much he craved the feeling of her muscles under his fingertips, but he was determined not to lose – not this time.

Her smile was mischievous, cunning. “Still not giving in? Perhaps I need to give you more of a challenge.”

Away her jumper went, and just like that she was baring herself to him, perky breasts bouncing just a few inches away from his face, practically begging to be worshipped. He grunted in frustration. “Fuck, Mel, what are you doing to me…”

She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him closer as she rode him faster. “Tell me, big boy, tell me what I’m doing to you, tell me how much you want me…”

“I’ve wanted you for so fucking long… I love how you push me, I love how you make everything a challenge, I love how you look at me like I’m a prize, ready to be fucked senseless when you’ve won me…”

Judging by the sounds she was making, he knew he was doing something right. A smile formed on his lips as he realised he had found one of her pressure points at last.

“You’re so fucking hot like that… I realised your little game right from the beginning… edging me on, getting me all hot and sweaty, just so you could have me… and here you are, riding my cock like a needy little slut…”

“Shit,” Imelda cursed, flushing crimson as she increased her pace even more, the feeling of her heat tightening around his length alerting him to her impending release, “keep going, you fucker, I’m almost there –”

MC smirked, lowering his voice to a husky whisper: “The truth is that I wanted you too, Mel. I knew I had to have you the moment I saw you riding that broom. I couldn’t think of anything but you on your knees, sliding your pretty lips on my prick…”

She let out a loud whine as she finally collapsed on top of him, forcing him to strain his hips as he felt her spilling all over his cock, her release dripping from her folds. He kissed her cheek as he gently kept fucking her through her orgasm, not quite wanting any of this to stop. In fact, knowing that he’d just singlehandedly carried her to her climax with just words alone finally pushed him over the edge. He was going to claim what he was owed.

Snaking his hands around to her ass, he lifted her and carried her over to the desk, drawing a surprised gasp from her. “Hey, what do you think you’re –”

But any protest was knocked off her lips as he laid her down on the wooden surface and pushed back into her tightness, his pelvis meeting her butt in a wet slap. Any rules that might have applied were thrown out the window as he began to properly fuck her at last, holding her hips as he practically smashed her onto his cock. He had a front-row seat to Imelda’s complete unravelling as she unleashed the full range of her vocabulary on him, moaning and whining until she was only babbling nonsense, relishing the utter depravity of their fucking.

MC could watch her tits bounce and her cunt greedily clenching down on him for hours, but Imelda’s release had done a good number on his stamina, and he could feel his own orgasm quickly approaching. Wanting to at least drive her into one more high before he finished, he brought one hand down to where his cock was buried in her folds and began strumming the little bundle of nerves, delighted as he sensed just how close she was. The sight of her body shaking and contorting as she crashed into her climax crumbled the last of his defences and he came with a loud moan, quickly pulling out and stroking himself until every last drop of his spend lay gleaming on her stomach.

He took a step back as Imelda propped herself up on her elbows, looking up at him with a smirk. “Well, that got me good.”

“I’ll say.” MC offered her his hand and helped her up from the desk. “So… I think we can safely say who won this round, right?”

“Right. I told you you couldn’t handle it.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who came twice!”

“But that wasn’t the rule, was it?” She chuckled as she bent down to pick up her clothing. “Just admit that I’m clearly better than you.”

MC rolled his eyes. “Ugh, fine. You’re intolerable.”

“Now now, don’t be a sore loser, pretty boy.” She caught his lips with her own as she walked towards the shower, the light catching her delightfully fit – and bare – figure. “I’m sure you’ll do great at the rematch.”

Merlin, he couldn’t wait.

#hogwarts legacy #imelda reyes #imelda reyes x mc #imelda reyes x m!mc #imelda reyes smut

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