#but especially the description of the silence

[callsign-rogueone]

older - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x younger!reader some thoughts about Bren + a sweet innocent younger partner!! [kinda requested] words: 1.9k 🏷: NSFW, descriptions of sex. no spoilers. afab “girl” reader who is younger than Bren. canonically, he’s 29-ish, and I’m implying the reader to be in her early 20s, and a scribe or healer, someone who isn’t combat-trained but is still part of the revolution. discussion of ethical concerns of a relationship like this, dom/sub dynamics in both sexual and non-sexual contexts, and traditional gender roles. I swear I’m a feminist woman in stem with career goals but it would be so nice to be his cute lil housewife 🥺 the daddy issues definitely came out here... oh well. that’s what the pseudo-anonymity of the internet is for, right?

Brennan can’t help but be drawn to you and your bright-eyed innocence, the genuine smile you give him every time you pass him by… the way you wear your uniform, playing things fast and loose + ditching the traditional robes for something more form-fitting and comfortable, especially during Tyrrendor’s hot summers… 

he struggles to stay composed every time you call him sir or Lieutenant Colonel — which is every time you speak to him, because you’re so sweet and respectful and eager to help him with whatever he needs, and it drives him absolutely insane because you don’t even seem to realize how captivated you have him. you’ve wrapped him around your manicured little finger without even trying. 

he resigns himself to suffering in silence because he knows this is wrong, that he’s your superior officer, that you’re closer to Violet’s age than to his, and there’s a clear maturity gap there — yes, you’re an adult, an officer in your own right, but a freshly graduated lieutenant who’s never seen combat and hopefully never will, and you clearly don’t have much relationship experience, either. 

he’s a good guy; he doesn’t want to take advantage of you in any way, especially because you’re so sweet and innocent… but he can’t live like this forever. it’s only a matter of time before he snaps, and snap he does. you do something incredibly stupid and dangerous — putting yourself at unnecessary risk, associating with someone who is only going to hurt you… whatever it is, as soon as he sees it, he’s forcibly removing you from the situation and ordering you into his office to give you a talking to, because he doesn’t want that happening again.

he’s stern with you, disciplining you how a Lieutenant Colonel should when something like this happens, but he’s especially upset because it’s you, because you put yourself in harm’s way. do you have any idea how dangerous that was? what could have happened to you, had he not intervened? 

he doesn’t realize how harsh he’s being until he sees that you’re crying. his heart breaks when you sniffle and nod and apologize with a quiet yes sir, those pretty eyes full of tears. he stops his lecturing to pull you into a warm embrace and apologizes for raising his voice at you, strokes your hair gently and promises that he’s only so stern because he cares about you, that this is for your own good, that he couldn’t bear to lose you or see you hurt.

you aren’t that close — this is the quite possibly the longest conversation you’ve ever had, because he can’t be around you for more than five minutes without needing to go splash some cold water on his face and give himself another lecture in the bathroom mirror about how wrong this is — but you already trust him so deeply, and believe his every word, you feel so warm and safe with him… you’d do whatever he asked.

it’s this kind of naïveté that landed you in that dangerous situation in the first place, but he’s not going to lecture you about it further, not when you’re this fragile, still hiding your face in his shoulder and sniffling quietly. he settles into his desk chair, sitting you in his lap and holding you for a while, murmuring soft assurances that you’re safe with him, and promises that he’ll take care of you. he’s so tender with you. dries your tears and mends any injuries you’d gotten, kisses your forehead… 

it’s clear that you need someone in your life to guide you and protect you from all the bad things in the world, to guard that sweet innocence. he’s happy to provide that for you, and you’re happy to be taken care of. but he’s still a little worried about taking advantage of you, because you’re not very experienced in the relationship department, and because you’ll have to keep this quiet for the sake of his reputation and yours. he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s a sleaze or that you’re sleeping your way to a promotion etc. but of course, those thoughts had never even crossed your mind — why would they?

it starts slowly, just him dropping by the infirmary/archives more often than usual to check on you, taking your lunch breaks together, spending some time with him outside of your responsibilities with the revolution, maybe some secret hand-holding and more cheek/forehead kisses, you hanging out in his office and reading quietly while he does his paperwork, because you just want to be close to him… 

you meet Marbh, which is a little scary, because you’ve never been that close to a dragon before, but Brennan holds your hand and reassures you that he’s nice, and you believe him, because Brennan is so gentle and kind with you that his dragon must be nice too. (he definitely asks Marbh to keep an eye on you when he can’t, and even though Marbh is the aloof, distant type, he agrees and takes the task seriously, because he knows how deeply his rider cares for you.)

slowly, and then all at once. you’re just too hard to resist — he’s wanted you for months, and he finally has you exactly where he wants you; curled up in his lap like a cute little kitten, all sweet and cuddly. gentle kisses quickly turn into something more heated because it feels so good, so much better than you’ve ever felt before. you’re so needy, more than you ever have been in your life, whimpering into his mouth and grinding your hips down onto his thigh subconsciously, desperate for more but too shy to ask for it properly.

he pulls away and tilts your chin up with a gentle hand, makes you look at him, makes you use your words, because he needs verbal consent from you before this can go any farther. you manage to tell him what you want in a shy whisper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he smiles at you, gives you one more soft kiss and then he’s leading you out of the office and up the stairs to your room because he’s not going to do this in his office — you deserve to be taken care of properly, in a nice, soft bed.

he shows you how a real man should treat you, pleasing you better than any idiot college boy your age ever could — gentle but thorough, no part of you left untouched or unkissed. he doesn’t even fuck you, just giving you his tongue and fingers, but it’s so good. the best sex you’ve ever had, without a doubt. he nearly busts right then and there when you tell him that, that you didn’t know it could feel this good, that nobody’s ever made you cum that hard, nobody’s ever gone down on you before… 

he spent another half hour eating you out after you told him that. he loves feeling your legs shake while he sucks on your clit, using a strong arm to hold your hips down against the mattress while you whimper and squirm. you taste so sweet and sound so pretty when you cum on his tongue… he just can’t get enough. 

of course, after he’s done, he’s scooping you into his lap for more cuddles and sweet kisses and reassuring words, telling you how good you were for him… you could have fallen asleep in his arms just like that, but he’s coaxing you up and out of bed to brush your teeth and put on real pajamas and get ready for bed before he tucks you in and kisses you goodnight, promising he’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.

he’s unbearably horny at this point, and definitely has to sort things out himself in the shower before he falls asleep. baby steps, he tells himself. baby steps.

there’s no question that you’re both deeply attached to one another, and you make things official, even though it has to be kept secret for both of your reputations’ sake. you don’t call yourselves girlfriend and boyfriend, because he’s getting a little old for that, but also because this relationship is a little different than most — you’re just his and he’s yours, no need for labels.

you call him Bren in that cute, breathless voice as he eases into you for the first time, holding his hand tightly, and his heart just melts. that’s the ultimate reassurance for him, that in your head, behind closed doors, he’s no longer your superior officer, he’s just your Brennan. he’s so tender and gentle with you, nice and deep and slow — truly making love rather than fucking, because he wants you to feel safe and warm and fuzzy, wants you to know that you can trust him.

and you do trust him, one hundred percent. you let him set some rules for you, mostly about you taking care of yourself and staying out of harm’s way, not straying too far from the fortress without him and/or Marbh… etc. you’re happy to follow them, because you know it’s for your own good, that Bren cares for you deeply, and you just adore the praise and soft kisses he gives you for being such a good girl… 

you slowly move in together after a while, because his room is nicer, and you love being able to fall asleep next to him, all safe and warm in his arms, and it’s so nice for him to have a soft, pretty little thing to come home to after a long day of preparing for war, someone to melt all his worries away with sweet kisses and to take care of him — no one has done that before, doted on him and prioritized his comfort and treated him so kindly, made sure he’s not overworking himself, worked all of the tension out of his shoulders and helped him take his stress out, if you know what I mean 🤭 

he is so genuinely caring and nurturing and makes you feel safe. he loves you so, so much. however, comma, he won’t hesitate to teach you the lessons you need to learn, the hard way, if he has to — edging you until you cry and promise to not break his rules again, until he’s convinced you mean it. he’ll always take amazing care of you after, giving you what you need, wether that’s soft, slow, loving sex, a rough and thorough fucking, or something in between. 

your relationship becomes a very poorly-kept secret around the fortress, but nobody really cares, or if they do, they don’t dare say anything about it,  not when Brennan is literally one of the three most powerful people in the entire revolution. he does not give a single fuck what anyone thinks about your relationship -- you love and support each other, and that’s what matters most. however, if anyone is stupid enough to make any negative remarks about it to you, and if he hears about it, they’ll find themselves getting assigned overnight watch or the worst tasks that absolutely nobody wants to do, for a full week with no explanation. 

that’s all I’ve got for now, but you know I am always down to discuss my main man, so please don’t hesitate to share with the class if you have any more thoughts about this or literally anything for any of our beloved riders 💗 muah.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #18+ #smut

[zvdvdlvr]

— Comfort in Your Arms

— 🐍 synopsis. You have a nightmare, Ominis comforts you.

— 🐍 warnings. Bad writing. Non-descriptive torture.

A bloody arm reached for your wand, wrapping it’s spidery fingers around it. You stood up on shaky legs, sparks of green and red magic lighting your way forward. 

As you progressed through the dark room, screams pierced your ears. But the weird thing was: they didn’t make your skin crawl. You felt nothing as you pushed open the door to a whole different room.

In the center of the room sat a blond boy. The center of his eyes were milky white, seeming to stare into your own eyes. You came forward. He was bound to a chair, ankles tied to each leg of the chair. His arms were restained with rope behind his back. “Please don’t do this,” he pleaded.

You felt a tickling in the back of your brain: he seemed familiar.

However, you stayed silent as you stared the boy down even though he couldn’t see.

“Please, darling. Let me go. This- It’s not you. I know it’s not. Let me go,” he pleaded. His voice cracked, tears falling down his pale cheeks. “Darling, please.”

A wand raised. A bloody hand- your hand- lifted a wand. Wordlessly, you flicked your wand.

Loud screams. The boy in the chair thrashed in the chair, screaming. The chair kept him in place, despite his violent attempts to escape. His sobs reached your ears, and yet again you felt that tingling in the back of your mind.

“Please, y/n! Stop it, darling please!” He sobbed, head thrown back. His molars ground together as he tried to silence himself.

Y/n.

“Y/n please!” He repeated, over and over. His voice soon quieted, vocal cords sore from overuse.

Soon the room began to shake. You looked up and around, noticing cracks in the ceiling, revealing the white sky beyond the walls of the torture chamber.

“Y/n!” 

You felt your knees buckle as a part of the ceiling fell. 

“Y/n!”

You fell forward.

“Y/n!”

You shot up, coughing. You felt a sharp pain on tje skin of your sternum as you turned your head quickly, seeing your darling boyfriend kneeling on the couch beside you. “I ca- I can’t bre-“ you stuttered, pain growing sharper in your chest.

“Breathe, my darling,” Ominis cooed, moving to tear your hands away from your body, smelling the sharp scent of iron on your hands. “It’s okay, y/n. You’re here.”

You slowly calmed down, filling your lungs with air as Ominis guided you through the aftermath of… whatever hell that was. Tears fell down your face, falling onto your’s and Ominis’s clasped hands and sliding away, down to the floor. 

“I didn’t realize you were still out in the common room,” Ominis started slowly. “I thought you’d gone to bed. I didn’t know you were here, y/n, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered back, still thinking of the pain you had caused your boyfriend. Yes, it was a dream, but you feared the person you were turning into: fighting Ranrok’s pitiful group of Loyalist’s, battling money hungry Poachers who are more than willing to cast Unforgivables at you, and following Sebastian down the dark path he was headed; retrieving Salazaar’s spellbook, casting crucio on you, completely disregarding your and Ominis’s advice about staying safe. You feared you would become like the people you tried so hard to defeat.

Yet again the sound of Ominis’s screams… so vivid and life like floated around your brain. You wouldn’t allow him to get hurt- especially on your accord. “Ominis, I-“

Ominis stayed quiet as you cut yourself off. “What was it about, darling?” He asked quietly.

Tears sprung in your eyes. “It was horrible. Ominis it was you… You were ti-tied to a chair,” you explained, openly crying, not even caring about the time or how loud you were. “I was standing there. T-Torturing you. You kept begging me to stop, begging me ‘please’-“ sobs wracked your body as you crumpled into yourself, feeling Ominis’s warm body peel your face away from your hands as you scrubbed harshly at your eyes. “To stop. You told me you knew it wasn’t me. But-But you kept pleading me to make it stop.”

Ominis moved to sit by you, wrapping your arms around his body as he shushed you. He hadn’t realized exactly what you were going through. Ominis knew he loved you, and felt guilty for not noticing your troubles. He should have noticed sooner.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ominis,” you whimpered, voice hoarse.

“You won’t, my love. You could never hurt me. I promise,” he soothed, carding his fingers through your hair and hoped the gesture helped calm you down.

“But what it-“

“Stop,” Ominis cut in. “You will never be like them.”

You went limp in his arms as your cries slowed. “You deserve more than me, better than me,” you whispered as if to yourself.

“Absolutely not, y/n. Not one more word from you,” Ominis spoke. He slowly untangled your limbs from his. You looked up, scared you had actually sent him away.

“Come stay in the dorm with me. Sebastian is out doing good knows what at this hour. And the other one’s at his girlfriend’s common room.”

You took Ominis’s hand and stood up on shaky legs. You barely had time to grab your wand before Ominis swept you off your feet and into his arms. He knew the way to his dorm with his eyes closed (ha!) so carrying you would be no problem.

Despite the short travel to the boys’ dorms, you almost fell asleep. Ominis’s scent surrounding you and his secure grip put you at ease more than you would admit.

As he pushed the door open, you blinked awake. Ominis set you on his bed and silently changed into his nightclothes as you got inder the covers. After setting your wand on the nighttable, you snigfled further into Ominis’s pillow and waited for him to hold you.

Ominis pulled you onto him as soon as his butt touched the mattress. “C’mere, my love,” he murmured, letting you lie on him. Your ear rested on the silk shirt that covered his heart. “I know you deserve more than me telling you at one in the morning, but, I love you. I love you more than my whole soul y/n. You don’t have to say it back. I just-“

You brought yourself up to Oninis’s face and fently pressed tour lips on his, cutting of his increasingly anxious rambling. As he fell quiet under you, you pulled away breathlessly. “I love you too, Ominis Gaunt. More than you’ll ever know.”

You fell asleep soon after. Ominis closed his eyes and waited for sleep to find him, thankful that you found safety in him.

#ominis gaunt #jules writes 📓🖊 #x female reader #female reader #x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #hphl #hogwarts game #harry potter hogwarts legacy

[hellishjoel]

cherry thrill | lights

9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity. chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea. A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)

During your first consultation, there was something in the air. 

Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets.  You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M. 

Joel Miller. 

You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes. 

Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over. 

Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension. 

He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist. 

You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor. 

Virgin. 

That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings. 

He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.

Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind. 

“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit. 

You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs. 

You shakily exhale as he warms you. 

You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job. 

But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck. 

His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk. 

There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it. 

It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity. 

It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity. 

You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings. 

A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur. 

The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed. 

“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”

His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless. 

“I think so.” 

Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it. 

“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”

“I’m sorry. I know so.”

Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”

The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time. 

How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you. 

But thinking about him wasn’t enough. 

You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin. 

You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment. 

A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him. 

“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.” 

That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care. 

He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office. 

Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office. 

He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him. 

Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning. 

“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office. 

He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression. 

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you. 

You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.” 

Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”

His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline. 

You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.” 

You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.

“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper. 

Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear. 

Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence. 

“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips. 

You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing. 

His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip. 

Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.” 

You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong. 

Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight. 

You’ve never seen a man so hungry. 

“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils. 

“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point. 

Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind. 

“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush. 

He hesitates, untrusting of his own words. 

“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”

Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows. 

“You- what?” 

“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk. 

The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop. 

“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine. 

You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak. 

His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin. 

You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk. 

“Nervous?” He belittles.

Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along. 

“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his. 

Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”

All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs. 

“No, definitely not.” 

“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”  

You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.” 

His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.” 

Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk. 

“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke. 

You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties. 

He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”

You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn. 

“Yes, daddy.”

You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it. 

“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”

A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.” 

He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look. 

Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile. 

“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does. 

“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine. 

A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking. 

“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.  

You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.” 

A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back. 

There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him. 

His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again. 

“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps. 

He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs. 

“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze. 

“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are. 

“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.” 

The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it. 

“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk. 

“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants. 

“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.  

He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.” 

For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes. 

With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.

You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him. 

He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one. 

Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes. 

Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him. 

You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well. 

There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards. 

With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger. 

Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”

He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey. 

You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.

You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk. 

“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.” 

The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk,  dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him. 

He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions. 

You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you. 

“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this. 

Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”

Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss. 

“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey. 

“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.” 

You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers. 

Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance. 

Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure. 

A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously. 

You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too. 

Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head. 

It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him.  Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him. 

A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge. 

“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.” 

You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please. 

With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth. 

“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows. 

“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth. 

Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor. 

Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw. 

“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish. 

“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you. 

The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps. 

Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth. 

“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight. 

That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy. 

The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine. 

He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does. 

Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth. 

It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm. 

“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance. 

“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided. 

It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like. 

Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?

“Ohmygod-” you gasp. 

Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights? 

“Joel, please,” you say, needing more. 

Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?

“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good. 

“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment. 

He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.

Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently. 

“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second. 

Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him. 

Now you’re really aching for him,  wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria. 

“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.

God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now. 

Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips. 

Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it. 

“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside. 

“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?” 

God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him. 

“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach. 

“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips. 

Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot. 

Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared. 

You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin. 

It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve. 

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.  

You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers. 

“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern. 

You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.” 

Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit. 

“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously. 

“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him. 

He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds. 

You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine. 

“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time. 

“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing. 

“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile. 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution. 

He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases. 

“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.” 

A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls. 

“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper. 

“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you. 

“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features. 

“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body. 

“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt. 

The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full. 

He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you. 

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal. 

“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you. 

“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.” 

A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.

Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions. 

One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear. 

Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep. 

Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to. 

Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.  

“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.” 

It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off. 

Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands. 

His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction. 

Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt. 

You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more. 

“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own. 

“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions. 

Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you. 

It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest. 

You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond. 

You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison. 

Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you? 

Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name. 

“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm. 

“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.” 

Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.

The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you. 

Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light. 

You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers. 

“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven. 

His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths. 

You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves. 

You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his. 

“Joel-”

“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp. 

“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp. 

“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.

His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you. 

You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm. 

Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom. 

It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze. 

“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any. 

You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy. 

A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces. 

“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet. 

“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.  

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head. 

“What about the one in your nose?”

He shakes his head again, this time with a smile. 

“Or your tongue?” 

This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug. 

“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.” 

Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers. 

Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin. 

You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already. 

“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-” 

“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water. 

You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops. 

You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk. 

It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens. 

Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle. 

You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo. 

“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.” 

“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.” 

You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients. 

The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.  

“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”

You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins. 

“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.” 

You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard. 

It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious. “M’not this gentle.” 

“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.” 

“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.” 

You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”

Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution. 

It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back. 

You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process. 

Joel sighs. 

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this. 

But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him? 

Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him. 

Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back. 

“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.” 

You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused. 

“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.” 

Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller. 

You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title. 

The Obsidian Gallery 

Joel Miller

Senior Tatoo Artist

You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller. 

next chapter ->

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #The Last Of Us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller pedro pascal #daddy dd/sub #dd/sub kink #dd!joel miller #dom/sub

[scudslut]

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

[leejenowrld]

nct dream reactions — dreamies getting jealous and possessive + kissing your neck

ot7 dream

genre smut fluff

author note this is very long and descriptive, also jaemin’s one is a teaser/spoiler for his upcoming series that i’m working on. the first part can be read here. and i’m sorry if some members are shorter than others, i struggle writing for those members and its difficult to write the same scenario seven times lol

REQUESTED? [yes☆]/[no] requests are open so pls request :) asks are open

“can you please write dreamies reaction to someone hitting on their girl and them getting jealous and possessively kissing their neck”

☆ mark lee

In the cozy studio, you find yourself in a very familiar position – comfortably resting on Mark's lap. Your head rests against his shoulder, eyes giving away the familiar heaviness that often accompanies these moments. It's an intimate setting where you tend to become sleepy, cuddling up to Mark, keeping him company as he works on his music.

"I love you, pretty girl," he whispers softly, casting occasional glances your way, a sweet grin lighting up his face at the sight of his girl nestled comfortably in his hoodie, on his lap. The warmth of your presence in his arms brings him immense joy – the soft whimpers and sniffles as sleepiness takes over, the tired hums, and the gentle tracing of your fingers along his cheek and through his hair. Each tender moment is a cherished melody that lulls him into a state of serene coziness, he loves it all.

Mark cherishes having you close; you're his muse, and your touch and presence bring him constant comfort. However, the sanctuary you've created is disrupted when other members walk into the room. The subtle huffs and sighs from Mark indicate his desire for a private moment with you, his personal space now obstructed.

As time passes, you reluctantly stand up, resisting Mark's attempt to lock you in with his arms. Engaging in casual conversation with the boys, you notice your boyfriend's grumpy and sulking demeanor. Something is wrong – he sits there with crossed arms and his tongue prodded against his cheek.

Whispering sweetly in his ear, you ask, "You okay, my love?" But he doesn't answer, and the problem becomes apparent – you're wearing short shorts. When you lean up, it reveals more than Mark is comfortable with, especially with other guys in the room not hiding the way they’re looking at you, eyes heating up at the sight of your skin on show.

His frustration stems from possessiveness. The shorts are acceptable when you're alone together, he loves spanking you or even just touching your ass. However, the presence of others triggers a protective response. The sight of them looking at his baby irritates him, and you remain blissfully naive to the stares, intensifying his annoyance.

Suddenly, he comes up behind you, his arms locking around your waist. His head finds its place in the crook of your neck, and his hot breath fans against your ear. Holding you close, he becomes a distraction while you're in the midst of a conversation with the guys. His presence causes your concentration to falter, and you notice he hasn't muttered a single word to them. The subtle act speaks volumes about his focus on you in that moment.

"Did you have to wear these shorts?" His voice unexpectedly darkens, a low and husky tone that sends a shiver down your spine as his fingers grip the flesh on your thighs.

"You always know how to drive me fucking crazy.” He tuts, the frustration evident in his voice.

“I didn’t do anything.” You whisper, ignoring the silence that falls between the boys as they look at the two of you with wide eyes yet they’re not that shocked, they expect this from you both.

He shakes his head. You know exactly what you’ve done. "You've made me hard, so get all these idiots to leave, or they'll see me arch your back against the recording desk." he demands, a possessive edge to his words.

"You dirty slut, you just want everyone to hear you, don't you?" The accusation hangs heavy in the air. "Gonna record your moans anyway so they'll hear you." Mark's threat is both intimidating and strangely thrilling.

Mark, with his sweet yet tired appearance, messy hair, and glasses, needs to let everyone know who you belong to. His exterior may look innocent, but his words reveal a different side of him, asserting his dominance and marking you as his own.

☆ renjun

It's date night, and the ambiance is set for a romantic evening. You, as always, look absolutely stunning, and Renjun can't help but admire you the entire night. As the two of you enjoy the evening, the atmosphere is filled with an intimate connection, and Renjun finds himself in awe of the fact that you're his, appreciating every moment with you.

As you're at the bar getting the bill settled, a group of guys surrounds you. You, a bit tipsy, remain oblivious to their intentions. Renjun, observing the scene, tuts disapprovingly. He understands that you like to dress up, describing yourself as a "hot slut," and he doesn't mind the attention you attract. In fact, it boosts his confidence, knowing that he's the lucky one to have you by his side. However, the questionable intentions of these guys make him uneasy, and he can't have you perceived in a way that doesn't align with his comfort.

Taking decisive action, Renjun comes up behind you, his strong arms enveloping you, and he starts planting soft, lingering kisses on your neck. This intimate gesture not only silences the surrounding flirtation but also serves as a clear reminder of who you belong to. "You're mine, okay?" he whispers into your ear, adding a touch of filth that brings a playful smile to your face. You, in turn, allow him to act this way, feeling a potent wave of arousal as he asserts his claim. The subtle display of possessiveness not only dissipates any unwanted attention but also deepens the connection between you two, reinforcing the understanding that you belong to each other in the most intimate and exclusive way.

☆ jeno

You and Jeno are having an anniversary dinner in the most exquisite restaurant, soft candlelight flickers against the sophisticated décor, casting an intimate glow that accentuates the warmth in your eyes and the subtle smile on Jeno's lips. The air is filled with a melodic blend of soft jazz, intertwining seamlessly with the shared laughter and whispered words between you two. As the aroma of delectable cuisine wafts through the air, your entwined fingers on the table reflect the connection and love you share.

You’re all dolled up, dressed to the nines. You didn't anticipate the sheer allure that Jeno would radiate. Even though he's the love of your life, the sight of him still catches you off guard with its captivating charm. He looks so fucking hot.

You can't resist the temptation to playfully rile up Jeno. You're well aware of the reactions he tends to make when he perceives others making advances towards you, and tonight, you decide to test those boundaries.

While every fiber of your being yearns to be in his bed, getting your back blown out, you find yourself seated across from him in the restaurant. Jeno holds your hand, his gaze filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. He’s silently giving you a warning to behave for him. That familiar, enticing smile graces his face, the one that makes you want to get under the table and suck his cock

Unable to resist the allure, you lean in, eyes locked onto his, and teasingly murmur, "Jeno, if you keep smiling like that, I’m gonna get under this table, on my knees, sucking your cock until you can't breathe."

He shakes his head, a blend of amusement and affection in his response, He appears unchanged by your words but you feel the way his hand tightens around yours. "Baby, can you please just shut up and eat your food?"

Your desire uncontained, you counter, "But I want to eat you." A subtle headshake follows, but Jeno seals the moment with a tender kiss on your hand, intensifying the throbbing ache for him.

Under different circumstances, he'd eagerly propose abandoning the date to fuck you. Yet, tonight is special – an anniversary celebration meticulously planned by Jeno. His sweetness and loving gestures throughout the evening only amplify the anticipation for what awaits later, making the entire experience all the more enchanting.

Jeno's tone takes a swift turn. He's calling you a brat, commanding you to shut up and eat, his voice growing louder as he delivers stern reprimands. Yet, you revel in the duality, the shift from scolding to endearment.

"You're my baby. Just be patient and wait, ok?” He says, alternating between compliments and firm instructions to behave. You touch him under the table which elicits a serious look, a silent acknowledgment of the enticing game you're playing.

As he heads to pay the bill, a sweet kiss and whispered promises of a night dedicated to you and what you want hang in the air. However you truly couldn’t wait a second longer. You pout, a mischievous idea forming. Spotting a group of guys who've been eyeing you all night, you shamelessly strike up a conversation.

Their suggestive comments and compliments serve as a spectacle, a carefully orchestrated act to elicit a reaction from Jeno, you’re looking back and forth and smirking when you see Jeno looking your way, a blunt and still expression on his face which only means one thing, he’s mad.

The guys around you are over the top, complimenting your appearance and making suggestive remarks about how your ass looks in the dress. You respond with a smile and nods, keeping your words to a minimum. You're just waiting for the inevitable clash with Jeno, anticipating his reaction to their bold advances.

The air hums as Jeno quietly emerges behind you, his presence sending an electric thrill down your spine. Engulfing you in a possessive back hug, he holds you tight against him, the strength in his arms making it clear that you're his and his only.

“You think you're sly, baby?” He purrs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as his hands explore you, tracing possessive patterns on your waist. His fingers dance with a familiarity that only intensifies the heated connection between you. He knows, he knows that you’re too impatient to wait until you’re home, that you just want him to take you here and now.

Jeno's fingers navigate under your skirt, skillfully exploring your most intimate places. The sensation elicits a quiet gasp, and you instinctively bite your lip to muffle the impending moans that threaten to surface. His touch is both commanding and tender, he’s massaging your folds, his fingers slipping underneath your panties so easily. “The red thong, really?” He whispers in your ear, light and sultry voice.

Adjusting your position, he cradles your chin with his fingertips, tilting your head to meet his gaze. A soft kiss lands on your cheek before he buries his head in the crook of your neck. His softness and touchy side surprises you but you know that you have a night filled with edging to look forward to.

“You're mine. You’re all fucking mine, doll.” He asserts with a possessive edge, his hold on you tightening, as if to emphasise the unspoken claim. “I'll let them listen to you moaning my name, yeah?” Jeno teases, making the discomfort of the audience palpable. It’s so funny that he hasn’t spared them a single glance, to him, they’re not there. Guys hitting on you doesn’t scare him because you both know who’s bed you’re gonna be in every night and who’s name you’re gonna cry out. He has an undeniable confidence and assurance.

“I'll rip these clothes off you right here and now.” His voice, a seductive whisper, promises a forbidden encounter. He tilts your head to expose your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses, displaying previous marks as if to say. 'Can't they see me all over you?'

“Gonna make you feel me here.” His hands move to your waist, tracing circles over the material of your dress, his need to rip it off your body intensifying.

☆ donghyuck

The neon lights of the carnival flickered in a spectrum of colors as you and Donghyuck embarked on another one of your adventurous dates. Excitement buzzed in the air, and you reveled in the shared joy of these moments. Little did you know that this particular date would unfold in a rather unexpected way.

Donghyuck knew you’d attract the attention of other guys, as you took your time dressing up, you opted for a striking skirt that hugged your curves, accentuating every step with confidence. The fabric flowed gracefully, catching the light in a way that drew attention. Tonight, you radiated a newfound self-assurance, a glow that spoke volumes about your growing confidence.

He bites his lip. “I'm in the mood to show off my pretty girl tonight. You’re all mine.”

When Donghyuck saw you, his eyes widened with admiration. The confidence you wore was like a magnetic force, pulling him closer. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride, knowing you were not just dressing up for others but also for yourself. As you walked together, he wrapped an arm around your waist, whispering words of appreciation for the newfound allure you brought into the night.

As you wandered through the carnival, Donghyuck's infectious laughter and playful banter made every experience even more delightful. Your affection for each other was always evident, and normally, attention from others was a non-issue. However, today, the carnival worker running a game took an unusually keen interest in you.

At first, it was amusing for Donghyuck; the way other guys were drawn to you sparked a playful gleam in his eyes. He'd lean in and whisper in your ear, "Just gonna sit back and watch him drool all over you. It's not like he can have you anyways, right? I love seeing people want what they can't have. Love that it's my pretty girl who's making all these guys fall down to their knees, but she'll only be on her knees for me."

As the attention grew, something shifted within Donghyuck. What began as a humorous observation evolved into a source of arousal for him. The possessive thrill of knowing others desired you, coupled with the knowledge that you were exclusively his, ignited a newfound intensity in his gaze. The amusement turned into a tantalizing game, and Donghyuck found himself relishing the role of the only one who could truly claim your affections

Amused by the worker's attempts to win you a stuffed animal, Donghyuck couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation and jealousy. The worker's laughter echoed around you as he persisted, seemingly blind to Donghyuck's mounting displeasure. Not one to be outdone, Donghyuck decided to shift the dynamics.

With each futile attempt by the worker, Donghyuck became increasingly touchy, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close to him, showering you with kisses on your face and neck. His whispered words, filled with sweetness and possessiveness, were a comforting reassurance. "You're all mine," he murmured, creating an intimate bubble around you both. “Do you think he’s gotten the hint? He’s still looking at you like he wants to rip your clothes off but I’m the only one who can do that.”

Determined to stake his claim, Donghyuck shot a piercing glare at the oblivious worker, whispering a firm declaration of your relationship. The worker, finally realising he was no match for your connection, reluctantly stepped back, allowing you and Donghyuck to continue your carnival adventure hand in hand.

☆ jaemin

You and Jaemin are currently in what you would call a situationship. It’s not particularly healthy, the lack of labels is evident of the fact that neither of you are ready for full commitment. It’s a bit toxic but the sex is good and you guys do truly care about each other and you only want happiness together. He takes care of you and your emotions. You found each other after messy and bad break ups. Your ex, Hyunjin, really broke your heart and fucked you over and you was in a very dark place for a long time until Jaemin came along, he held your hand through every second, he was with you at your lowest

So you can imagine his reaction and his attitude towards seeing you and Hyunjin happily engaging in a conversation at a party the two of you attended together. You’re smiling and the two of you seem to get along and all he’s left with is confusion. Jaemin doesn’t completely get your decision to reconcile with Hyunjin, he’s trying to understand for you. You keep trying to convince him that staying far away from drama is the only thing you want and it’s best for everyone.

Truthfully he’s not having fun at this party, especially when he catches the two of you in the distance.

He sees him talking with you, you’re unusually quiet, there's two drinks in his hand and Jaemin feels a flip switch when he realises he’s about to hand the cup over to you. He knows his intentions aren’t good, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just hates him and will never understand him.

Jaemin acts swiftly, purposefully striding over with his eyes cold and fixed on Hyunjin, sending a silent warning that succeeds in its intent. Holding the other cup awkwardly, he scans the surroundings with clear annoyance, observing his ex being touchy with another man right in front of him. Without hesitation, Jaemin wraps his arms around your back, and you instantly sigh, feeling the pressure drop from your shoulders as you sink into him. Jaemin understands you well; he knows you'd rather be anywhere else but with your ex, which is precisely why he's here. His actions are solely for you, recognizing that you're too gentle and unfortunately weak to break away from your ex and go elsewhere.

“Why are you smiling so much to him, hm? Should I show him how you smile when I’m touching you up and show him how you sound when you moan my name?” He whispers in your ear, tone heavy with jealousy

“I’ve been looking for you.” You mumble, dropping your hands over his, they lay around your waist and you gently trace his rings with your fingers and the soft touch awakens something inside of him.

"You look so pretty," "you're all mine," and "can't wait to take you home." While these words bring a smile to your face, they are intentionally loud enough for your ex to hear. Jaemin takes pride in the fact that you'll be in his bed tonight, savoring the awkward tension emanating from your ex as he stands there, looking around helplessly. The clear tension and discomfort only add to Jaemin's satisfaction.

Jaemin's lips gently trail along your neck, and you can feel the warmth of his smile against your skin, prompting a giggle from you. You lean your head against his shoulder, tilting it to grin at him before connecting your lips with his.

"I missed you, pretty boy. Where did you run off to?" You ask, your words sweetening the air. He just smiles, too captivated by you and the moment to respond immediately. Initially mad at the sight of you with your ex, jealousy fading away as he hears your sweet voice and looks into your soft eyes filled with nothing but genuine emotion.

Lost in the depth of your eyes, Jaemin realizes that this is what falling feels like. The world around fades, leaving only the two of you caught in a sweet, romantic embrace.

“Let’s go home, baby girl.”

☆ chenle

In the early weeks of your relationship with Chenle, things were still in the lowkey phase. You both hadn't encountered any significant hurdles, and it seemed like smooth sailing until today. While patiently waiting in line at a cozy coffee shop, a charismatic barista initiated playful banter with you, the charming exchange marked by subtle flirtation.

Chenle, who had yet to reveal his jealous side, witnessed the barista's antics with a hearty laugh as a heart-shaped design adorned the foam of your coffee. However, when he caught onto the increasingly flirtatious vibes and realized the barista was openly hitting on his girl, a flicker of possessiveness sparked within him.

Without missing a beat, Chenle wrapped his arms around your back, creating a protective shield, and locked eyes with the flustered barista until discomfort settled in. In a low, steady voice that betrayed a hint of anger, he whispered, "Does he know I'm willing to fight for my girl? My pretty girl, you're all mine, okay? I need everyone to see that. No one else has a chance."

As the barista retreated, Chenle's protective stance lingered, and the subtle tension in the air hinted at the newfound depths of his jealousy and the lengths he was willing to go to assert that you were undeniably his.

Chenle's unexpected display of jealousy and possessiveness revealed a new side of him, one you hadn't anticipated. The intensity in his eyes and the protective aura he exuded created a tantalizing allure that you hadn't noticed before. This newfound assertiveness didn't just catch you off guard; it stirred a desire within you, making your mouth water with an excitement you hadn't experienced in your relationship. The subtle thrill of discovering this hidden facet of Chenle added an electrifying edge to your connection, leaving you curious to explore this uncharted territory together.

☆ jisung

You and Jisung decided to embrace the thrill of a karaoke night, and as you stepped onto the stage, his enthusiastic cheers and claps echoed through the venue. Despite his slightly embarrassing antics, the warmth in your heart intensified with every encouraging gesture from your number one fan.

However, the mood shifted when the playlist took an unexpected turn into the realm of romantic duets. Another guy joined you on stage, and Jisung's expression turned sour. The confident singer's rendition felt more like a serenade directed at you, and Jisung, perceptive as ever, sensed the underlying intentions.

Feeling the discomfort, Jisung decided to take matters into his own hands. Seizing the opportunity, he boldly ascended the stage, surprising you. Wrapping his arms around your back, he started showering your neck with kisses, sharing the microphone for a duet that overshadowed the initial performance.

The overly touchy and romantic display not only made the other guy visibly uneasy but also transformed the situation into a comically passionate rendition of a love ballad. Your eyes locked with Jisung's, radiating love and adoration, turning a potentially awkward moment into an entertaining and memorable karaoke night.

As the duet concluded, Jisung delivered a playful remark, "You're my girl, okay? Only I can dedicate these types of songs to you." The shared laughter that followed eased any remaining tension, leaving you both with a lighthearted and unforgettable karaoke experience.

#jeno smut #nct jeno #jeno x reader #jeno #nct #nct dream jeno #nct dream #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #nct dream headcanons #renjun smut #donghyuck smut #haechan smut #haechan x reader #— nct written reactions #jeno fluff #nct 127 #jeno imagines #nct x reader #lee jeno #nct smut #nct lee jeno #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct jaemin

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Father’s Friend! John Price Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Forbidden Romance, Age Gap, Implied Smut, Brief Descriptions of Smut, Cock Warming, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cum Inflation, Stomach Bulging, Teasing, Older Man/Younger Reader, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

He tells you to keep quiet when you’re being intimate; he silences you with a sibilant “Shhh,” when your moans get too loud, telling you to “Keep your voice down, Sweetheart. Wouldn’t want your dad to walk in on his precious little angel getting fucked by his best friend.”

He’s a tease, too. “Or, maybe that’s what you want. Want me to fill you up and send you out there with your belly pumped full of me. Show em all how much you like getting speared by an older man’s cock.”

And if he finds it you’re going on a date with someone who isn’t him — WHOO, that will NOT end well for you.

He’ll bend you over the nearest sirface and pound into you. Gently enough that you can still walk after the encounter, but hard enough to remind you who you belong to.

“Can he fuck you like this?” John pants, teeth gritted and eye twitching as he feels you clenching around him, speechless. Drooling onto the cover of your bed beneath you. His hand slides up your front. Presses into your stomach. He growls as he feels himself there, his tip throbbing inside you. “D’you think he can make you feel like this?”

And when your date arrives to pick you up, he watches you walk, a hand placed over your stomach to hide the bump formed there, your thighs together pressed together to try and stop John’s semen from leaking into your underwear. And John watches you, a thin, sly smile on his face as your gaze finds his. He waves you off, knowing you’ll back. For more. For him.

For the rest of the evening, all Price can think of is you trying to go about your business knowing that you harbour a secret in your stomach; namely his cum sloshing around inside you. He can just imagine the surprise on your date’s face if you decided to get intimate with him, only for him to tear your underwear off and find you already wet with another man’s cum oozing from your hole and rolling down your thighs in thick globs.

John’s life has been a series of high-action, adrenaline-filled moments. But none of those compare to when the two of you are hiding your forbidden relationship from everyone around you.

Price’s unwavering love of cock warming has almost led to the two of you being caught multiple times; namely when you’ve been sat on John’s lap, squirming as his dick lays nestled deep inside you, only for someone to come bursting through the door, making you jump, tighten around John. He has to try and stifle the guttural growl clawing up his throat you’re squeezing — milking — him in your moment of panic.

Luckily, John’s ridiculously large desk - the one you’d often remarked he only got to comfortably fuck you on - hides what lays beneath the surface of this particularly dark and colossal iceberg. It conceals the outline of John’s cock inside you, the material of your shirt seemingly too thin for the job.

John dismisses the person who rudely interrupted you. Sure, they gave the two of you a strange look upon seeing you sat in John’s lap, but as far as that person’s concerned, that’s all it is. Flirting at most.

John’s interest in you isn’t purely sexual, though. He cares for you. Truly and utterly. You remind him of the feeling of first love — the one he never got.

He takes you out to fancy restaurants, ones far enough out of town that nobody knows who either of you are, letting you act open with each other. Hand holding, forehead touches, fingers running up your thigh, quick kisses, slow kisses, kisses that stray into dark waters.

Speaking of a hand running up your thigh; John’s classic, default move whenever you’re at a crowded event together (especially in the presence of people you know). You and John always sit beside each other, which always leads to his hand slipping beneath the tablecloth and up your leg, stopping only when he reaches the warmest spot — the inside of your thigh.

And he does this all while maintaining conversations with other people while you’re left mute and wanting.

Of course, he always delivers.

He’ll pull your underwear to the side and start toying with you. Gently, at first, his pace slow as not to attract attention. Then, when your face starts to get red and your voice is but a string of whimpers, he leans in, closely, so you can smell his cologne that charges hundreds by the drop, feel his beard tickling the side of your face, and whispers: “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Love. We’re with guests, after all.”

John will never let you cum under these circumstances. He’ll take you to a nice and isolated room and have his way with you until you’re having to lean on him for the rest of the evening, his arm about your waist and his semen pooling in your underwear. Heavy. A mistaken gesture of friendship.

If anyone ever did get suspicious of your relationship, John would tell you immediately.

“I can’t risk losing you,” he’d say, stare solemn. “We’ll have to keep our distance — just for the time being.”

God forbid you start crying, otherwise he’s on his knees, taking your hand in his and pressing long, deep kisses to your knuckles, his breath nigh-frantic and hot against your skin.

“I promise, Darling, this is only temporary.”

It would have to be, because John can’t go two minutes without thinking of you, needing you.

He sees something that’s your favourite colour in a shop window ? There you are, in the forefront of his mind.

You still interact with each other, of course, but you can’t be as close to one another as you’re used to being. As you’d like to be.

John can only watch you as you fraternise with other guests, party-goers, your father’s lawn party a hit. And yet all he can think about is having you by his side, fingers interlocked and looking down at you with all the love he’s never been able to give to anyone else.

These avoidant periods usually always end with John coming to your door and knocking profusely, his visage that of a man who’s seen nothing but ghosts all his life. And he takes you in his arms, pressing kisses to every inch of your face, leaving the two of you gasping for breath by the end of it, his eyes filled with adoration he’s never known and will only ever know for you.

Usually, you can expect a mountain of gifts to be waiting for you after your suspicion avoidance era ends - a collage of everything John collected that reminded him of you in your absence.

Some of it he purchases solely for you to wear for him and him alone, to put on a show for him. Sure, it’ll get torn off shortly after, but John can’t deny that you look like a present wrapped up just for him to unravel, to ravage.

Clothes, jewellery, accessories, shoes; he watches you wear them out and about. Something about seeing you wearing things he’s bought for you sends him feral — the fact that you’re drenched in his wealth while nobody else knows what lies beneath the surface. Beneath the layers of satin and silk and silver are the remnants of the night before. Teethmarks, bruises, scratches; the etchings of hours of pure, uninterrupted love-making. Breathless confessions, promises of a life together where you don’t have to hide your love.

Every outfit, every coat, is the disguise for many a night more.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#mw2 x reader #mw2 #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #john price smut #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price smut #captain john price smut

[strawbeerossi]

Relief

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: With both of your stressful careers, you and your roommate come to a mutual agreement of a way to get rid of the unwanted stress.

Content/Warnings: Talk of stressful work environments, free use kink (duh), oral (f rec), kitchen sex, protected sex, choking

Word Count: 1.6K

Kinktober Day Thirty: Free Use

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You had just gotten home from yet another eighteen hour shift, only running on fumes and coffee as you were slowly unlocking the apartment door. Spencer was away on a case, so you had the place to yourself for the past week. Your roommate was your best friend, someone who you confide in for every little issue. Rachel at work is being a bitch? Spencer would tell you that she couldn’t handle your shifts and that she needed to stay in her lane.

Even when you were wrong, he had your back. Which was what built up such a close bond and a strong friendship. You had mutual trust in one another, able to speak about all of the burdens of the world and have that sense of safety from lack of judgement. That comfort opened many doors, especially whenever it came to talking about your personal lives.

You’d confessed how stressed you’d been, itching for relief although you couldn’t see yourself having casual sex with someone you hardly knew. It was more trouble than it was worth, a sentiment that your best friend could definitely get behind the more he thought about it. After he opened up about his own struggle, you both had a brief window of silence while contemplating who would be the first one to offer a situation you could both benefit from.

“What if we just.. Fooled around? I trust you, I mean. You’re the best person to even sleep with since you are so cautious. Not to mention your germ thing..” You spoke while he had to think it over, the both of you setting boundaries in place. If either of you were desperate, the opportunity was there at any time when you’re around the apartment.

You didn’t expect things to actually happen that way though.

You were currently in the kitchen, washing some dishes from dinner that you’d carelessly tossed in the sink previously. Spencer wasn’t home yet from a week long case so it’s not like there were too many dishes. You just hated washing them, especially when you get the horrible feeling of wet food touching your skin and making you want to pull your skin off due to the texture.

With music playing in the background, you didn’t manage to hear the sound of the front door open and close, signalling your roommate was back from a long, draining case. Toeing off his shoes by the door, Spencer followed the sound of soft music to the open kitchen, his arms slowly crossed as he leaned against the wall.

It had been three weeks since you discussed your deal and set things into place, his body tense with stress and mind focused on the mind numbing details of the case the team had just solved. He needed to get his mind off of work, so he was taking the plunge tonight. Since you’d both agreed to always be prepared, he felt comfortable coming behind you.

His hands on your hips had you jumping from surprise, just about to yell at the man behind you for scaring you whenever you were silenced by the feeling of his body pressed against yours from behind. “It’s been a long week.” He groaned softly, letting his head bury in the crook of your neck.

You were shocked to say the least. You never imagined Spencer to be the one to initiate anything. You weren’t complaining by any means. Your head was tilting slightly to the side as you could feel the feeling of his lips pressing wet kisses alongside your skin, nipping at your neck playfully along the way. “I’ve been thinking about you for days.” His voice was soft, his hips rocking against you, his hardened cock pressing against your ass while he showed you just how much he’d yearned to let the load of all this stress piling up on his shoulders go.

With his hands squeezing your hips, he wasn’t wasting much time as your sweatpants were being tugged down in one swift motion, pooling at your feet as he was briefly letting you go to fall to his knees behind you. Anticipation was building in your stomach, the mere idea of your roommate taking you in the middle of the kitchen had your arousal soaking through the fabric of your panties.

As you could feel his finger hooking into the damp material, he was opting to push your panties to the side while using his fingers to push the puffy lips of your desperate cunt apart, he let out a low groan at the slick glistening in the kitchen light. “You’re so wet. Fuck,” He breathed, tongue darting out to swipe over your throbbing clit.

The faint taste on his tongue had his hands gripping your thighs, gently nudging them apart as he was delving in.

The sinful sounds of slurping, sucking, and moans were filling the kitchen, your hands gripping the edges of the counter while Spencer was thrusting his tongue rhythmically in your leaking hole. His knowledge on the female anatomy worked out in your favor, the wet muscle eagerly lapping up the gushes of slick that you were graciously blessing him with.

He was intoxicated on your essence, his brain fogged with pleasure as he was drinking everything you had given him, drunk on your wet pussy.

As he was forcing himself to tear away, he was reduced to using the back of his hand to wipe away your wetness from his chin since he’d managed to get sloppier than he anticipated. You weren’t so satisfied with the loss of contact but he was definitely about to make it up to you. “God, I don’t know how I managed to control myself for so long.” He groaned, leaning forward once more to press a kiss to your clit before pushing himself to his feet.

Your head turned, eyes focused on his movements as Spencer was heading over to his satchel that he’d dropped on the table at some point after he came inside. “I asked Morgan how I initiated this and his advice was pretty helpful. He also made sure I was prepared.” He’d chuckled, retrieving a condom that was tucked away in one of the pockets.

His presence coming up behind you had your glossed over eyes focused on his face, making him chuckle as he was putting the condom wrapper in his mouth to hold it, hands working on his pants in order for him to tug them down, boxers sliding down his legs right along with them.

After tearing open the condom packaging, his right hand gave his cock a few lazy tugs before he was sliding the rubber along his shaft. With one hand on your hip and the other positioning his cock at your entrance, he didn’t waste time before sinking deep inside of your eager cunt. “Oh fuck.” You slurred, head tilting forward as you could feel the stretch from his thick cock breaching your inner walls.

You’d always suspected Spencer to be well endowed and you were more than happy to be proven right.

You felt his hips snap into yours, catching you by surprise as you let out a whine. “Feel good?” Spencer asked, his hands resting against your hips as he was continuing with the steady thrusts, your sensitivity causing you to feel every edge dragging across your plush walls, the curve of his cock making the head of his cock assault the spongy button deep inside of you that you yearned for him to continue slamming into.

“So good!” You squeaked out, feeling his arm wrap around your torso before his hand was now gripping at your throat, using his strength to tug your upper body to rest against his. He took pride in the effect he had on you, the way you were panting and whining from him pistoning your cunt, the way you had drool running down your chin from your mouth being agape, even the fucked out look in your eyes that made him want to burst right then and there. “Spencer!” You gasped, legs beginning to shake as you could feel the arousal pooling in your stomach, your body hot from the strenuous activity.

“Fuck, I know. I’m gonna cum too.” Spencer spoke in a deeper tone, sweat beading on his own forehead as his grip tightened on your throat. “Let it go, pretty girl. Fuck, cum on my cock.” He rasped into your ear, lips pressing a wet kiss to the spot underneath it.

The words were enough inspiration as your walls were tightening around his cock, inner walls spasming around his shaft and being the boiling point.

You were the first one to climax, your hand gripping at Spencer’s wrist as you could feel your legs turning to jello, thankfully being held up by Spencer to prevent you falling to the ground and breaking something. His thrusts were sloppy, however it only took a couple more before he was filling the condom with his own spend. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to fill you with his cum, however he also knew this had to be done smartly. You both were stressed enough as is, you couldn’t imagine adding a baby into the mix.

As he pulled himself out of your leaking hole, you were letting out a shaky breath. “Oh, my god. Who are you and what have you done with Spencer?” The question caused him to chuckle.

“Stressed out Spencer is a lot different than normal Spencer, huh?” He mused, making you nod.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid one shot #strawbeerossi kinktober 2023

[hyunsvngs]

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 - bang chan x gn!fem reader

wc: 4k

cw: bang chan being sexy frat president, sex with no strings attached, mc being a self proclaimed whore, smut 18+ MDNI.

synopsis: the party was boring. thankfully, the frat president who you hadn’t spoken to for a while offers you to go on a drive.

a/n: ITS HERE! part 7 of hot bitch summer. ENJOY:3 smut warnings under cut as per!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: daddy kink, car sex, pube descriptions as per usual, blowjob, unprotected sex, having sex while someones on the phone, dirty talk

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The bass of Hands Up by 2PM reverberated through your skull. Chan was usually in charge of the music, and was completely devoted to this responsibility, but he’d relinquished this authority to Minho, for one night and one night only. You loved 2PM as much as the next person, you weren’t an idiot, after all. But the late nights and parties were catching up with you, and you really felt the need for a quiet night. Although, you’d come to find that a quiet night was hard to come by around here.

You’d poured yourself a drink, but had been sipping at it for the last forty minutes and had barely made a dent in the liquid. You were considering just sneaking away to Minho’s room, crawling into his bed and scrolling through TikTok for a few hours until he joined you for drunken cuddles and/or sex. You just needed Jisung to be distracted enough so that you could evade him - your clingy bestie wouldn’t be very happy if he caught you abandoning the party.

The speakers began to blast ADTOY and Jisung fell to his knees, belting out the lyrics, and you thought you may have found your moment - when somebody sank down onto the couch next to you.

Chan. Smiling at you gently. You were thankful that it had been one of the calmer members of the frat. Or one of the more sober ones, you should say.

"Hey, Channie."

"Hey," he replied, nudging you gently with his elbow. "Not feeling it tonight?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me, I think." He leaned in close to whisper, as though he were telling you a secret. "I'm not feeling it either."

You smiled, appreciating the company of someone who wasn't desperate for you to partake in their drunken fun, whilst painfully sober.

"C'mon," he said. "Fuck it. Let's go get burgers."

You glanced over at him. "Are you paying?"

Chan laughed, shaking his head. "Brat. Sure. Let's go."

The two of you crept out of the room, blessedly undetected. If anyone had noticed the two of you hurrying out of the room, they’d surely assume you were sneaking away to fuck. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d dragged a member of the frat away from a party for sex. It was business-as-usual, really.

You only breathed a sigh of relief when you collapsed into the passenger seat of Chan’s car. “Okay. Where to?”

“I know a place,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “It’s a little way out, hope that’s okay.”

You nodded. “It’s a nice night for a drive.” You rolled down the window, letting the summer evening breeze wash over you.

You hadn’t been in Chan’s car for a while. Come to think of it, you hadn’t really spoken to Chan since everything started happening between you and the rest of the frat. It wasn’t an awkward silence, definitely comfortable - it was nice to just chill, especially when you weren’t feeling a party at all.

The drive was silent other than soft music coming from the radio. You thought you could recognise it as The Neighbourhood, a band Chan loves and plays on the regular. It was softer than anything you would’ve expected him to play, the singer crooning over the speakers and filling the car with a pleasant noise. It was almost disappointing when you both arrived at the diner and the music switched off.

The diner was cute, retro almost. There were only one or two people inside, sipping on coffee and doing some work on their cheap laptops. It was comforting when you and Chan entered and sat across from each other in a creaky, red leather booth. Chan even ordered some fries and two milkshakes for you both, insisting that the fries in the diner were the best you’d ever had. It was familiar, comforting to be with your friend after not speaking to him for so long.

“God, this is so much better. Thank you for rescuing me, Channie.”

Chan picked up a napkin, dabbing at his mouth. "I'd been wanting to catch you alone for a while, actually."

You fake gasped. "Bang Chan, are you trying to become my next conquest?"

Chan began to panic, cheeks flushed red, waving his arms wildly. "No, no, I swear! I just wanted to chat! The house can get pretty hectic, it's difficult to get a quiet moment alone, I'm sure you know that-"

"Relax." You patted his forearm, laughing at him. "I was joking. What do you wanna chat about?"

Chan shrugged, still looking a little abashed. "I just wanted to check if you're okay, really?"

"Oh." You took a sip of your milkshake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Never better. Why do you ask?" Had you given the impression that you were struggling? You were thriving, in all honesty.

Chan's eyebrows were furrowed, and you could tell he was trying to find the right words. "Listen, I'm not trying to swoop in as some male saviour or anything. Power to you, as long as you're having fun. I guess I just wanted to let you know… there are no expectations, or anything. It can be easy to get stuck in these situations. If you ever wanna stop sleeping with the boys, we'll still want you around."

You smiled at him. “Chan, that’s really sweet. And I really appreciate you checking in. but, truth be told, I am a gigantic whore and I’m having the time of my life.”

Chan blushed at how direct you were being, but laughed. “Okay, as long as you’re enjoying yourself.”

You patted his hand on the diner table. “If that ever changes, I'll let you know.”

Chan nodded, and returned to munching on his fries. "Y'know, I've never really done the whole casual sex thing. What's it like?"

You paused. That was a big question to answer. It was… well, it was incredible. Exciting. Empowering. It had given you a big confidence boost, having all these gorgeous men interested in you. First you’d been walking around the frat house like you owned it, which led to you walking around town like you owned the goddamn world. You may have been developing some sort of complex, but fuck, it felt good. And, honestly, on a more trivial level… you were just having a great time.

“It’s a whole lot of fun, I guess that’s the main thing. Fucking different people, exploring different dynamics. Doing it all in a safe and comfortable environment is a big plus, too. It’s not that I’m against monogamy, but it’s nice getting to have all this fun without being tied down.”

Chan nodded, taking this in. "I don't know. I guess I'm not sure how well I'd fare. Sex without feelings… I don't know if I could do that."

"Well, it's not exactly sex without feelings. More… sex without romantic obligations. There are feelings - I love the guys. Felix and Jisung are my best friends in the world, and obviously Minho and I are… close. Just because I'm not dating the entire frat, doesn't mean there aren't any feelings there."

"Hmm," Chan mused, thinking things over.

"All I'm saying is, don't knock it 'till you've tried it." You sat back in your seat, shooting the man a wide grin. "And if you try it? Try it with me."

Chan's cheeks flushed redder still. "Well… maybe. I guess I wouldn't be opposed. You make it sound like a pretty good set-up."

You simply looked at him expectantly. You could offer it to him, of course. But you wanted him to ask. "Yeah. It's pretty good."

"So…"

"Be brave, Channie. Say whatever you want to say."

"You're killing me, y'know that?" he groaned. "Do you want to… you know…"

You stirred your milkshake casually with your straw. "Hmm… I don't think I do know."

“Jesus, Y/N. Do you wanna fuck?”

You gave him a saccharine smile. “Now, was that so hard? Of course I do. You wanna do it tonight?”

Chan frowned. "I don't know. There isn't a whole lot of privacy back home."

You nodded. "You're worried Minho will hear us and turn it into a full-blown orgy?"

Chan hid his head in his hands with a groan, hiding his red cheeks. "Oh my god, don't say that."

You laughed. "You get so flustered, Channie, it's so sweet. Anyways, my place is out of commission right now, they're in the middle of fixing the AC."

Chan pouted. "Don't say we're out of options - you kinda got my hopes up here."

"Got your hopes up?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean…?" You let your shoe fall to the floor and extend your leg beneath the table, pressing your foot into his bulge. Just as you thought. Hard. What was it with these boys? Ready to fuck, wherever and whenever. Not that you could talk.

Chan looked like he was about to explode. You smirked, knowing that he was unlikely to decline whatever you proposed. “So, my place is out of action. Your place is sorely lacking in privacy. Good thing you have a car, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Car. Right.” He patted his pockets, pulling out his keys and sliding them over the table. “Go, wait for me there. I’ll pay.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his desperation. There was nothing you loved more than a sweet, desperate, horny boy.

The subsequent car journey was indescribable. You could feel the tension between you two, despite Chan only driving for a few minutes before he seemed to notice a prime location.

The car slowed, as Chan turned down a narrow lane. “Here - here should be okay, right?” It seemed secluded enough. There was a row of trees obscuring the car from view. You were hidden in plain sight.

“Wait right here, okay?” Chan got out of the car, and you heard him open the trunk. It was getting late, but the sky was still golden, in that perfect August night way. The air was warm, heavy, but cooling down as the sun sank further into the horizon. Cicadas were croaking. You wondered if you’d even be able to hear them over your own moans.

“Ready for you now, babe, come back here,” Chan called.

You didn’t have much prior experience, but you knew that car sex wasn’t typically the height of luxury. Fogged up windows, leg cramps, banging your head against the window. But this? This set-up was nice. Leave it to Chan to make car sex more comfortable than sex in Jisung’s room. At least here there wasn’t a stack of monster cans by your head and a lighter digging into your back from under the duvet. He’d even laid out pillows and blankets.

“You had all this stuff on standby? Damn. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been waiting to fuck me in this car.”

“I like to be prepared, okay? Not for car sex,” he quickly clarified. “For road trips, and whatever.”

“I have to hand it to you, Channie, this looks very cosy.”

He nodded. “Sure does. Now, are you gonna lie down and let me fuck you?”

You grinned. You knew he’d lose that shy boy energy, when it came down to it. “Yes, daddy.” Your tone had been mocking, but you saw the way his eyes widened. Okay, you noted mentally. Daddy kink.

The trunk wasn’t the biggest; there was space for you to lean back against the pillows he’d arranged, but your legs were still hanging out of the car. Chan wasted no time, wrapping your legs around him and touching his crotch to yours, ever-so-gently.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” he asked, looking you straight in the eyes.

You nodded. “I’m sure.”

Before you knew it, Chan’s lips were on yours, his hips grinding into yours. You moaned against his lips, plush and warm. You’d been wanting to kiss him for longer than you’d realised, and it was better than you could’ve hoped. He tasted slightly like the vanilla milkshake he’d been drinking not long ago, but mainly like Chan, a brand new introduction to your taste buds, and a very welcome one at that.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close. His dick was rock hard, and it felt fucking huge, pressing against your clit even through the layers of clothing. You felt like a feral animal, so horny already. Your right hand went down to squeeze his ass, round and firm, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss to whimper at him needily, “Please, Chan - please.”

“Please what? Use your words, baby,” he smirked as he threw your own words back at you.

“Fuck me!” you whined. “I want it inside me, please!”

“You do?” he asked. “Call me - call me that again, baby.”

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you crooned with a pout.

He pulled back, pulling off his shirt. “You want it? You really want it?”

“No, daddy, I need it,” you insisted, taking your own shirt off in turn. You tugged down your trousers, taking your underwear with them, needing to be ready for him immediately.

“Such a good baby for me,” he praised you.

Golden hour had descended, casting a glow upon you both. He was a Greek god, abs glimmering under the sunset. His hip bones were sharp enough to cut, diving under his waistband. You wanted to lick him from head to toe.

“I wanna see it,” you whispered, eyes focused on the tent in his jeans.

“You do?” he asked, as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans. “Is that all you wanna do with it, baby?”

“No! Wanna feel it.” You fought not to make grabby-hands at him.

He pulled his jeans down to his thighs, before toying with the waistband of his boxer briefs. It was so close, so close, yet so far.

“Stop teasing me!” you demanded with a huff.

He gave you a grin, looking mischievous. “Are you getting grouchy? Do you need it that bad?”

“Yes!”

Chan snickered. “Alright, alright. I’d say don’t get your panties in a twist, but you’ve already torn them off. So desperate. Here you go, okay? Here it is, baby.”

His dick snapped up as he set it free, sitting tight against his abdomen, with a prominent curve to the left. Soft curls spread across his pubic bone, decorating his heavy balls, spreading down his thighs. You wanted to choke on it, wanted to bury your face in his pubes, wanted to feel his balls slapping against your chin. But you couldn’t - there was no way you could even contemplate waiting. Maybe later, but now - now, you needed him inside you. You needed your pussy filled. Now.

“I won’t make you wait much longer, baby, don’t you worry,” he spoke gently, taking his dick in his hand and stroking it. “We need to stretch you out, though, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No - I don’t care - hurt me, I can take it-”

“Shh,” he hushed you, thrusting two thick fingers deep inside you.

“Oh - fuck,” you gasped. He scissored them, spreading you open in preparation.

“That good? Daddy filling you up nice and good?”

“Yeah, daddy!”

You clenched tightly around his fingers, watching as he jerked himself off slowly. He squeezed, and a bead of precum dripped from his slit, landing directly on your clit. God, you’d had a lot of sex in the last few weeks, but that could possibly have been the most erotic sight to ever grace your eyes.

“I think you’re ready for it, baby.”

“I am! I am, I’m ready daddy!” you babbled, cock-hungry.

“Here it comes. I’ll be gentle.”

He pulled out his fingers, but you barely had a second to moan out a complaint before his cockhead was pushing into your entrance. His pace was slow, unhurried. He eased himself into you, gradually, taking his time. He looked like an angel, sunlight spilling into the car from behind him, bestowing a halo upon his blessed head.

“Oh - oh, my God - daddy, it’s so big,” you breathed.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, stroking your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I’m not even all the way in yet.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re not?”

“Almost there, don’t worry,” he reassured you. His eyebrows were knotted together, and he hissed as he forced the last inch inside you. You let out a weak moan, pathetic-sounding even to your own ears. Chan leaned down, kissing your lips gently. “There you are, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

“I did it,” you mumbled. Your brain felt hazy, eyes seeing stars at the stretch. “I took your whole giant dick, daddy.”

“Yeah, you did,” he beamed down at you. “Gonna start fucking you now, okay?”

You nodded. Somehow, you were completely and utterly fucked out already. His hands gripped your ass, supporting your weight as you hung off the edge of the trunk. He began to thrust slowly, sliding his dick all the way out, before forcing it all the way back in. You grasped at his upper arms, his shoulders, his neck, the warmth of his skin making your fingertips tingle. You felt so full.

Chan started to thrust faster. The pace increased slowly, picking up little by little, as did the pitch of your moans. You cried out, nails digging into his shoulder, as he slammed into you with a groan.

“Daddy! Fuck, fuck, no- no, I can’t take it-”

Chan didn’t slow. “If you want me to stop,” he grunted, “Tell me to stop. But I know you can take it, baby. I know you don’t want me to stop.”

You shook your head. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, don’t stop, daddy!”

Chan let out a strained laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’ll fucking die if you stop, please-”

“Relax, babe,” he said, laughing once more. “I’m not gonna stop, okay? Promise.”

Chan’s dick had you in a daze, your surroundings fuzzy, though you distantly heard your phone go off - the ringtone you’d assigned to Minho’s contact.

“Minho,” you mumbled.

Chan didn’t stop fucking you, not for a second. “I’m surprised it took him this long to notice you left,” He fumbled with your jeans, next to you in the trunk, pulling your phone from the pocket. “Go ahead, answer it.”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”

Chan nodded. “Do it.”

You swallowed a moan, and clicked accept.

“H-Hey, Min,” you greeted him, your voice wobbly.

“Hey, angel. You think I wouldn’t notice if you sneaked off?”

You gasped as Chan hit your g-spot with a particularly ecstatic accuracy. “Sorry-”

Minho chuckled down the line. “Is Chan fucking you good? That’s who you snuck away with, right?”

You couldn’t help but let out a whine. “Yeah, Minho, fuck! He is, he really is.”

“Glad to hear it, baby,” he said, and you heard the smirk in his voice. “Tell him to have you back by midnight. I want to have a go next.”

“Minho,” you moaned, almost incoherent.

He laughed at you once more. “I know that sound. Go on, baby, cum on his dick.”

That was all it took. You came undone, flooding Chan’s cock with your liquid arousal, crying out, “Daddy!” as your nails scratched lines down his pecs.

“Have fun with your daddy,” Minho snorted. “See you later, baby.” With a click, the line went dead. You dropped your phone beside you.

Chan leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it with a whine. You swallowed his spit gratefully, wrapping your arms and legs tightly around him, keeping his dick buried inside your pulsating pussy.

He pulled away, stroking back your hair and kissing your forehead. “You did so well, baby. Can I cum in your mouth?”

You nodded, smiling dreamily. “I wanna taste daddy’s cum.”

Chan grinned, climbing into the trunk with you, straddling your chest. “Suck on my balls, baby, yeah?”

You didn't hesitate for even a second, taking one into your mouth and sucking on it gently. It was sweet with the tang of his sweat, and it tasted like ambrosia to you. Chan moaned loudly, stroking his cock as you sucked, his balls bouncing on your tongue. You ran your tongue around them, humming contentedly.

God, they're so fucking heavy, you thought. You wanted him to drain them, cum all over you. In your mouth, preferably, although you wouldn't complain as long as you got to feel those hot white ropes somewhere on your body.

You needed it. desperately. It wasn't unusual for you to be cum-hungry, not at all. It felt as though your default state these days was begging for a man's cum. But now, laying beneath Chan in the trunk of his car, it possessed you. You'd do anything to make him cum, immediately.

Your hands reached around, palming his juicy ass. You'd been wanting to get your hands on it for longer than you could remember. He groaned beautifully when you squeezed it, a deep, guttural sound. You opened your eyes, looking up to find him gazing down at you, a starry look in his glossed-over eyes. He was close. You just needed to push him over the edge.

You spread his cheeks, finding the pucker of his asshole. You would never force it in without lube - you'd had way too many inexperienced dickheads try this on you to count. But just a few strokes of your finger, teasing the rim… you knew that would do it.

"Oh, fuck, babe, f-fuck!" Chan stammered. He pulled back, swiftly forcing the tip of his cock into your mouth. You took it in your stride, suckling on it until he erupted. His cum was salty on your tongue, thick and hot. You swallowed it gratefully, continuing to suck him through his peak, and he steadily pumped the rest of his shaft.

You watched as Chan flopped beside you, chest heaving. You were out of breath too, face warm and blushing as you looked at him. The cold air of the night was now welcoming on your body, calming down your extensively heated skin.

A beat passed, and then Chan spoke, running a hand through his hair. "Let's clean you up and get you home to your man, yeah?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Nobody took any notice of either of you when you arrived home, both cleaned up and hair decently tidy in the same clothes you left in. Well, nobody except Minho, who was sitting on the sofa grinning at you as soon as you entered.

You bounded over to him, cuddling up to his side and grinning when his muscled arm pulled you in. “So…” He began, and you groaned internally. That smirk was alarming. “Daddy, huh?”

“Shut up!” You swatted at his chest.

“Seriously though, I’m proud of you. That’s seven down, and only one left,” Minho kissed your forehead, and you smiled. You looked around the room, trying to ignore the loud bass of yet another 2PM song. Where was Jeongin, actually?

Oh, right. You finally spotted him in the corner downing vodka shots with Jisung, his cheeks blushing and a sweet smile on his lips. God, he was so endearing.

“I have an idea for him, y’know,” Minho mused, and you lifted your head. Minho looked proud, as if he’d won the damn lottery.

“For who? Jeongin?”

“Yep,” Minho nodded. “I think it’d be great if we were both there, don’t you?”

You tilted your head to the side, eyes racking over Jeongin’s figure. He’d really come into his own lately. He’d started to get a little buff from going to the gym with Minho, but there was still that cute, innocent smile on his face as he fucked around with Jisung and giggled endlessly. His arms bulged where they were visible due to his black tank top. You wanted to ruin him.

“I think that’s a fucking great idea.”

#juno & billy’s fics ♡ ☆ #hot bitch summer: drive #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #chan smut #chan fanfic #chan fic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #chan x you #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x you #hot bitch summer #stray kids fics #stray kids fanfics #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #skz smut #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz series #skz x reader #skz x you

[beetlejuicyy]

Ascension | True Form! Sukuna x Reader

Summary: Ryomen Sukuna is a ruthless monster who takes pleasure in slaughter and destruction. You are his favorite, but that makes the other servants on his estate envy your status. What will master Sukuna do to you when he hears the rumors of his favorite slut bedding a common servant from the kitchen?

Warnings: all of them lol it's sukuna violence, blood, death, sexual content, graphic description, exhibitionism (if there are any others I should mention please let me know)

Word count: 6,518

Read on AO3

Notes: I also had the audacity to end it with fluff??

Masterlist

The corridor leading to master Sukuna’s chambers was infinite. You had walked along the creaking wooden floor so many times before, shortly after you went into his service. Stories of unimaginable violence were spreading from servant to servant, starting with the man who would fix a broken wall to the girl wiping blood off clothes. Clothes of men and women who were called in but never came back. He was a monster. Tall muscular body and four arms, always towering over mortals from his throne in the main hall. People were saying he could have your body sliced in half with only one look from afar. Four blood red eyes, feeding off the trembling of voices, shaking of bodies begging for forgiveness. He had none to spare.

However gruesome the stories about Ryomen Sukuna were all over the country, people still flocked to his mansion, offering their services. People with nowhere left to go, people betrayed and hunted by their own kind, the weak, the poor, the lonely. As much of a monster as he was, his home provided a purpose and a haven for those with no place left among humans.

You were no different. When he first summoned you to his chambers, you expected the most painful and humiliating fuck you could ever imagine.

Violence turns him on.

A lot of the women who survived his bed were saying the same thing. Especially then, when he had just come back from killing an entire village, leaving fire and blood in his footsteps, he was sexually aroused for sure. The girl who was going to be summoned that night was going to die, everyone was sure of that. But you didn’t.

“Men are pathetic.” You told him, looking straight to the floor. That was the first time you saw him, sitting high on his throne, an immaculate white yukata covering his now clean body. No sign of the disasters he had brought upon were left on his body, except the obvious erection you could see poking from underneath the fabric. He crossed one muscular leg over the other, resting his chin on the palm of his lower left arm.

“How so?” His voice didn’t scare you, like you expected. But then again, after you walked along the hall and stopped in front of the stairs of his throne, you couldn’t look at him anymore. His form was so imposing, so intimidating, towering over you. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a god.

“They kill and they rape and they destroy. But they pretend to be righteous.” You were wearing a royal green kimono that softened the red of your skin, as blood was running rapidly through your veins.

“I did the same thing just earlier.” He said, exposing his sharp teeth in a vicious grin, as if he had just caught you lying.

“They are weak, master. You are a god.” You forced your eyes away from the floor. If you were to survive in his service, you had one simple thing to do. Obey. “I would rather serve you, my lord.”

He looked at you in silence, all four eyes quietly analyzing you, your posture, your face, your breasts that barely fit in the kimono who belonged to someone else. You could hear the sound of your own breath, empty air echoing in your lungs. He was unmoved.

“I’ve heard this tale before.” He said, eyes looking down at you through lashes.

He never seemed bothered by your daring eyes so you compelled them to keep looking up. You were sick and twisted compared to other people, you’ve noticed it since you were a child. Maybe that’s why, contrary to all the stories you’ve heard in the first few days you had already spent there, you found Sukuna handsome, more than anything else. Yes, he was a monster in size and in strength, his build terrifying, his eyes piercing and deadly. But all of these things came together as hunky, almost statuesque. The way he was looking at you, a mix of boredom and indifference to your existence, like he controlled the way the universe worked. Your eyes roamed along his body, taking advantage of the time he took to ponder on your fate. The most popular rumor, that was acknowledged as a fact by all the stories circulating, was that he had two cocks. Your eyes fell on his lap and your lips parted slightly in curiosity. Did he really? You were so focused on his body that you didn’t notice the corners of his mouth curled in a perverted grin splattered across his face. Sukuna noticed you were practically undressing him with your eyes alone.

“You seem to be sincere.” His voice reverberated in the empty hall, snapping you out of your daydream. You looked at him with eyes round in surprise as he gestured for you to approach him, his arm extended towards you, rough long fingers inviting.

This time, however, you had the feeling you weren’t going to be coming back alive. You had become his favorite quickly. He would always call for a different woman, most of the time specifying certain features that she had to possess. One night he wanted a short woman, the other a big breasted one with short hair, other times he wanted a woman with visible scars on her body. He never knew their names and never bothered with remembering. They were simple objects to fulfill his bodily needs. Soon, he started asking for you, specifically by name. In no time, you were the only one summoned to his chambers. People noticed it as did you, and you began getting ready, washing your body, bathing in perfumes, decorating it with jewels and the most beautiful of fabrics, knowing Sukuna would soon be back drunk on brutality and violence, eager to fuck you numb.

At first, the other servants were relieved. The women gradually let go of the crippling fear of being chosen to entertain the master in his chambers, the men relieved of the fear that, if the woman they brought in front of the master failed to satisfy him, their bodies would be slashed in pieces. But lack of fear allowed enough space for other emotions in the hearts of the servants.

Envy.

You were too quiet, too serene. As if you enjoyed your status. Moreover, the stories about what was happening behind the closed doors of his chambers were now scarce. You abstained from talking about it to others and, besides the usual bruises that covered your body all the time, there were no signs of violence or terror inflicted upon you. Much to their dismay, when you would return to your room, long after sunrise, a smile of satisfaction would always be plastered on your worn out face. You enjoyed whatever was happening to you. And that gave you power.

This is how you ended up being framed. A few servants, both men and women, came up with a false narrative, accusing you of giving yourself to one of the boys working at the kitchen. They had seen you helping him bandage a deep meat knife cut. From that simple gesture to detailed falsehood about sexual activities was only one step. First, they spread it amongst each other and now they went directly to master Sukuna to inform him that his favorite slut was throwing herself at any man.

All you could do was deny. You had been summoned to the main hall and you knew exactly why. It was your word against theirs but, as much time as you spent in Sukuna’s company, you didn’t know if he cared enough to even find the truth. None of his women were allowed to be touched by any other man. There had been multiple instances when the women he forcefully took had lovers or even husbands that they tried to go back to and they all ended up decapitated. You finally reached the end of the corridor, palms sweaty and heart beating relentlessly in your chest.

Pushing the doors open, the first thing you laid your eyes upon was Sukuna, sitting high on his throne, a depraved look glistening in all of his four eyes. On either side of the room stood your accusers, more than you would have imagined. At least half of the servants of the estate were standing humbly, heads kept down, eyes sticking to the floor. Contrary to their form, you could see the looks of pride on some of their faces, while others seemed to doubt the success of their plan. In the middle of the room there was a large futon mat. It was there often times when Sukuna enjoyed having you touch yourself while he instructed your every move as he sat on his throne. You thought you saw the servants take it out last time.

Sukuna didn’t say a word. Only his superior grin could be a hint as to how this charade was going to end, but you never knew what to expect from his eyes clouded with lust when he looked at you. You walked in, not expecting any formal invitation, passing by the group of servants, not bothering to spare them a look. The only important thing was in front of you, sitting at the top of the stairs, sunk back in his throne, legs parted widely, four arms crossed across his chest. You felt like a mouse walking right into a trap.

“I’ve heard some interesting stories from your friends.” His low voice echoed in the room. It seemed as if you were being choked by an invisible hand. “I believe you’re aware of it.”

“They’re all lies, my lord.” You answered, just as you had planned. You had your most beautiful attire on, your most prized golden hairpin he had gifted you. But you didn’t expect he would have the accusers present while he would decide your punishment. Your ears picked up a faint sound of rushed breaths and steps behind you, as one of the women tried to argue with your answer. Sukuna ignored her as well, all his attention on you. “My body and my soul belong to you, master. You can use them however you consider suitable.” In response to your last words he grinned, that wide grin that exposed his teeth, like a predator.

“Come here, slut.” Pressing your lips together in anxiety, you grabbed the sides of your long kimono and pulled it up as you climbed up the steps of his throne.

The servants looked in shock at your body gradually ascending to their master’s place. No one was allowed to even dream to stand as high as him. He had fucked you before on his throne multiple times, especially after fights with jujutsu sorcerers that would wear out his body but make his cocks hard, his skin still stained with the blood of those he had slain. When you reached the last step you dared to look at him. It was one of the few instances when you got to look down at him, as you stood up in front of him while he comfortably sat on his throne. His arms were now resting at his sides, his crimson eyes filled with contained rage. The closer you got to him, the more you could feel the killing intent lingering in the air. He looked at you with indecipherable lust. For sex? For killing? For revenge?

“Show them how you serve your master.” Sukuna’s command had air stuck in your throat and eyes widened in shock.

You expected to be punished, even killed, although you had grown to trust him and feel safe in his presence. But not to have you humiliated in the front of the very people who falsely accused you. Your lips parted in a pathetic attempt to protest. No sound came out. You took a moment, one that would have gotten any other human in your shoes killed in an instant, to look for the reason in his eyes. Have you become arrogant enough to think you knew him that well? The only thing you could see in his wicked gaze was your own reflection, nothing else beyond the crystal clear layer of his four eyes. You obeyed, conscious that you were a moment too late. You ought to be punished for that too. But did it even matter, given your situation?

You kneeled down in front of him, his eyes following your face as it lowered until it was at the same level with his crotch. Your hands effortlessly worked on the knot tied at his waist, undoing it. You heard gasps and murmurs from the people filling the room when your hand reached under the fabric of his clothes, pushing it away and displaying his two throbbing cocks. Most of these people had only heard stories about it. You licked the top one, pressing your tongue flat along its length, while your hands gently stroked the other one, cupping his thick balls full of seed waiting to be released. This was your chance to maintain your status, to remain in his good graces, so you tried to ignore the thought of all those people watching you sucking Sukuna’s cocks. He let you adjust to his size quietly, one hand reaching to take the golden hairpin out of your dark long locks and throwing it away. Your hair fell down over your shoulders and back, thin strands sticking to your face. The metal fell down the stairs with sharp noise that covered the wet sounds of you slurping and licking his cock. The pin fell tapping in the middle of the group of people but none of them dared to move, even though its worth could have easily earned them a new life.

Some of them were looking anywhere else but at your small body compared to his beastly frame, as your head bobbed up and down his length, unable to ignore the sounds. Others, on the contrary, mostly men, were watching fascinated. Sukuna’s upper right hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing it away from your face and you looked up at him when his rough knuckles grazed faintly against your cheek. Your eyes met his only for a fraction of a second before he pushed your head roughly, forcing his cock deeper inside your mouth to touch the back of your throat. He groaned in pleasure, a deep guttural sound coming from deep inside his throat as you choked, tears filling the corners of your eyes.

“Undress.” Sukuna commanded.

You let him fuck your mouth as your hands moved away from his other cock. More than anything, you needed your hold on him for stability. While your body was shaking with every thrust of his cock inside your mouth, his hand a tight grip in your hair keeping your head steady. Your trembling hands moved to weakly remove your obi and push the hems of the kimono away, the soft fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling around you on the floor. You had almost forgot people were watching, but you heart a faint constrained reaction from the crowd as your naked body was revealed. They could only see your back, some of the lucky ones your large breasts from the side as they jiggled in the rhythm of master Sukuna’s movements. Your hands desperately searched to get a hold of his body as soon as you fulfilled his command. One of your hands found his thigh while the other faintly touched his lower cock before he pulled out of your mouth.

You could feel the taste of his precum deep inside your throat. His upper left hand grabbed your jaw harshly. He pulled your face closer to him, forcing you up from the floor. If he wanted to, he could throw you away from up there, and you would land on the other side of the room, skull crushed against the wall. The thought sent terror through your entire body and you began shaking in fear. Instead of this, he held you by the jaw a few inches away from his face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He could see the distress in your eyes and he grinned maniacally. You could feel his hot breath on your face as his cocks rubbed against your chest, between your breasts, while his large lower hands cupped them together, his sharp nails scratching the soft sensitive skin. Eager to satisfy his needs and cling to your pathetic life, you moved your body along his length, creating friction between his cocks and your breasts. Your hands grabbed his forearms for support as you moved and his grip on your jaw softened, allowing you to move up and down as you needed. He cooed in approval against your lips, only for you to hear. A good sign.

“You’re so eager to please.” He said loudly, for everyone to hear. You wanted to play along, let yourself consumed by the humiliation of the servants seeing you being used like a sexual object only for Sukuna’s pleasure. The more time your spent looking in his darkened red eyes, the more you forgot about the people watching. No, that was wrong. You were not forgetting. You were enjoying it.

“Yes ma-“ You noticed his lower eye look to the side full of rage right before the screams of people covered the low sloppy sounds of his cocks fucking your tits.

"Silence." He growled and the commotion stopped, people biting their tongues and looking away from the headless body on the floor, head rolled a few feet away.

Some were sobbing. Others were frozen with terror. The man that just died in an instant was about to touch himself, turned on by the sight of you. No one was allowed to take pleasure in what belonged to Sukuna. You felt his cocks throbbing even more aroused between your breasts and you knew it wasn't just the warm and soft feeling of your body that got him that hard.

Violence turns him on.

Sukuna pushed you by the head, forcing you to take one of his cocks in your mouth again. This time he was aiming to cum, as both his upper hands were holding your head in place, with each movement the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he groaned like a beast. Your hands grabbed his thighs, nails digging into his skin as you took his entire length in and out of your mouth, your tongue running along the veins of his cock. You took a chance to look up at him, knowing he enjoyed the sight of your face while he fucked it relentlessly, teary eyes and brows furrowed upwards in a helpless expression. Instead, you saw his head thrown back in pleasure, mouth slightly open to let out ungodly sounds. Tears fell down your cheeks but you enjoyed the sound of his grunts, and you joined him with moans that reverberated around his girth. He came in no time, one cock inside your mouth the other on your chest. You swallowed all that he gave to you as the tip of his cock softly rubbed against your lips, the last drops of his milky seed dripping at the edges of your mouth.

“Thank you, my lord.” You moaned, grateful, looking up at him through your lashes, waiting anxiously for his next move.

You heard several overlapping sounds of meat slashing, blood spilling and bodies falling on the floor. Sukuna was taking his time effortlessly killing every single man whose dick got unbearably hard because of you, one by one. You were still with your back turned to the crowd so you could only imagine the number of butchered people and the terrified sight of the ones still left alive.

Sukuna let his robe fall off his shoulders on the throne as he leaned down to grab you by the waist, pulling you up over his large shoulder as he descended the stairs. You let your small body relax, hanging over his muscular one, your soft belly pressed against his shoulder. One hand held you firmly by the waist while the other had both your ankles in a lose grip, holding you in place as he walked down the stairs. He was completely naked as were you. Your feet dangled against his abdomen, your ass and leaking cunt exposed. You didn’t even realize you had gotten so wet until the cool air hit your folds. He could feel your juices on his chest as your thighs rubbed together against his skin and he grinned to himself. He hadn’t even done anything to you yet.

With his every step, you could see more and more of the people filling the room. It was a horrifying sight. Blood was pooling on the floor, people were trying to avoid looking at the dead bodies while also avoiding looking at their master, looking at you, at the same time. It was impossible. Your accusers, who were so certain they would get rid of you, were dying one by one.

Sukuna let you fall off his shoulder on the mattress in the middle of the room. So he had it prepared for this, you thought. Suddenly, as you were laying on your back while he stood up next to you, waiting, you became extremely aware of all the eyes looking at your naked body. Up on the throne you felt safer, above everyone else. Who cared if they were watching you choke on their master’s cocks? But down here, with all these people, blood and killing surrounding you, a spark of fright erupted in your mind. What if master Sukuna was going to leave you here? Wasn’t this the most sadistic end you could meet? He got the servants tormented by the deaths of their own, all because of you, and now he was going to let them get their revenge. They would tear you to pieces. You desperately tried to hide your large breasts with your arms, pressing your legs together as if he didn’t parade around with you and your soaking cunt over his shoulder moments ago. You looked up at him with wide doubtful eyes. When did you become so uneasy in his presence?

“You really don’t get it, do you?” You didn’t know at whom this question was directed. His voice was coated with a thick sense of dominance.

In the following seconds, you saw three people falling to the ground, blood spilling out of their bodies. Sukuna kneeled down next to you, grabbing you by the ankles and raising your legs up in the air. The back of your thighs pressed against his abdomen where his tongue rolled out and licked the soft skin. You whimpered, feeling the burning sensation in your lower body that meant one thing you knew very well. Your cunt needed him. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his neck, the feeling of his soft pink hair on your skin making your shiver. You tried pulling him closer to you, but he only watched, amused. You were struggling to have his body closer to yours, get him to penetrate you already. His lower arms pinned your legs in place while another hand lightly slapped you across the face.

“Beg.”

You had never quite felt the need for him to own you like you did right now. You were desperately clinging to him, ever fiber in your being telling you that the only way you could be safe, the only place you belonged to was in his possession.

“Please master.” You whined, without any second thought.

Somehow, only unconsciously, you knew that the reason he took a liking to you was that you weren’t afraid of him. Not once before this day did you doubt your master. The fact that you found him ravishing, the fact that you carnally wanted him so bad out of your own accord, it was something he never expected but got addicted to. Sure, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted gave him a sort of high only power could attain. But to feel needed, to feel wanted like you wanted him, to have you suck on his cocks so eagerly, beg for him to fuck you like an animal, cry out in pleasure because of his touch, Sukuna would never give up on these things.

“Please, punish me like I deserve.”

You gasped out of air when you felt his lower cock easily sink deep into your moist pussy, while his top cock rubbed against your folds. The feeling of your warm walls clenching around his girth sent a wave of indescribable pleasure through him, a pleasure that only made him eager to chase even more. His movements picked up a fast paced rhythm from the start, balls slamming against your ass with every slap of his hips against yours. He had his upper arms around your legs, keeping them up on one of his shoulders, while his other rough large hands were grabbing your breasts, kneading, playing with your nipples. You began moaning uncontrollably, the mixed sensation of the cock inside your cunt and the stimulation of the cock rubbing against your folds and over your clit with each thrust sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through your body. Your fists were grabbing the mattress tightly, your body hot and sweaty.

Through half open eyes you could see the golden hairpin on the floor and a woman trying to walk and pick it up. Fool. She really thought Sukuna wouldn’t see her, too drunk on your body to pay attention to his surroundings anymore. You could understand, though. Any man fucking with such violence and focus like he was thrusting inside of you was sure to lose all his other senses. But Sukuna wasn’t just a man. He was your god. Part of you wanted to warn her, tell her not to test her luck. Her head was sliced off her neck right when she was ready to reach out and grab the hairpin.

Your eyes were already tightly shut when that happened, the feeling of Sukuna’s cock throbbing inside you ready to release having your walls clench around him and your whines louder, more desperate as you approached your orgasm as well. He pushed your legs open, leaning over you, reaching deeper and deeper into your sensitive hole. You felt the wet tongue on his abdomen again, licking the sweat off your tummy, circling around your navel. The strain on your thighs was getting more and more painful the more he pushed his heavy body against yours.

“I would massacre the whole country for you.” He grunted against your lips.

His name reverberated in the room when you screamed it as your orgasm washed over you. His cum filled your hole, his sticky seed overflowing and dripping along your thighs and your ass. His other cock released his seed on your belly. Your fucked out face was the most beautiful thing Sukuna had ever witnessed in his life. All hot and sweaty, hair a mess around you like a halo, biting your lips, your eyes closed your eyebrows furrowed as if you still felt him inside you. The sight of your body covered in his seed, marking you as his and his only. It only made him want to ruin you even more. You opened your eyes lazily, your chest rising and falling with big movements as you sucked air inside your lungs.

You saw his eyes already fixed on you. Around the room was only death and blood and despair, while Sukuna sat down calmly, eyes fixed on you. You lost count of how many people were dead and how many were still watching. He didn’t call out for you, didn’t gesture in any way, but his eyes were imperative, commanding you without any effort. You forced your body up, supporting your weight on your arms. You crawled to him slowly, already feeling a mellow pain between your legs that would sure hurt a lot more the next day. He welcomed you at his side, a hand placed between your shoulder blades gently pushing you over his lap. You laid on your belly obediently over his strong thighs. His fingers ghosted over the line of your spine passing over the round curve of your ass.

His right hand was still aimlessly feeling the smoothness of your skin when his other right palm landed in a harsh slap over you other cheek. You cried out in pain, right before you felt two fingers of his left hand savagely pushed inside your mouth. You sucked on his fingers as he landed the second, then the third slap, the muffled sounds of your whines echoing from your throat. He spanked you again, in the same spot, and your eyes filled with tears at the growingly stinging sensation. Sukuna was consumed by your touch, by your scent. He loved how easily you got wet because of him. He could smell it before you were even aware of it. When he pulled you up from the floor, carrying you on his shoulder, your cunt was so close to his face, so obviously releasing that delicious scent of your leaking arousal that had his mouth water. Now he had you sprawled on his lap, the need to consume you insatiable. The urge to abuse your body until you were a trembling mess, unable to control it anymore. He leaned over just when you were expecting another painful slap and he sank his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass. He was careful enough not to seriously hurt you, but impatient to feel you in every way, leave his mark wherever he could. You cried out, drool falling at the corners of your mouth around his fingers. He pulled his teeth away and licked the round red mark left on your skin, making you shiver.

Another slap landed on your other ass cheek and he grabbed a fistful of your hair with his free left hand, forcing your body to arch painfully much. He leaned his face closer to yours, fingers still in your mouth. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, his deep red eyes swallowing you whole.

“Who do you belong to, slut?” When you tried to answer you choked on his fingers, unable to articulate any word.

He slapped you again, his other hand squeezing between your thighs. He could feel your juices mixed with his cum drip over his thigh. Sukuna knew slapping your ass was guaranteed to have your cunt drenched. He wouldn’t repeat himself. You squeezed your eyes shut when his large hand landed another slap, his fingers slightly pulling away from your mouth, allowing you to speak.

“I belong to you, master.” His fingers fell from your lips down your jaw to have your neck in a tight grip, choking you and forcing you to look at him.

“Then you can take your master’s cocks at the same time, can’t you?”

“Yes, master.” You replied weakly. He slapped your face, demanding a better, more convincing answer. “Please, master. I need both your cocks inside me.”

Sukuna seemed pleased with your answer, grinning at your deplorable state. You pushed your muscles to stand but he quickly and easily handled your body, using you as he pleased. He had you on all fours, your face sunk in the mattress soaked with your sweat. He ran his palm along your pussy, feeling his fingers slip, drenched in your arousal, as his lower arms had your hips pinned exactly where he needed you. You cried out in pain, feeling both his cocks stretching your walls. He was massive anyway, and now you had to take double the size. As dripping wet as you were, you still whined in discomfort when he forced himself into you. The mattress was wet with your tears and the room filled with your cries of pain that gradually turned into moans as you adjusted around him and pleasure overcame the pain. He slammed his hips violently against your ass, pulling you into him, his nails digging in your skin. One of his hands was on your head, pushing it further, keeping you in place as if you were a doll specifically made to fulfill his needs.

The beastly sounds he let out seemed to come from deeper inside his being, so savage and violent that seemed he was going to break you in half. You were too fucked out to pick up the sounds around you anymore, only his animalistic groans as he hit your insides, covering your moans and whimpers. You only felt a faint splash of hot thick liquid falling at your sides and the smell of fresh blood mixing with the smell of sex. You didn’t open your eyes until you were out of the room, not even when Sukuna came again inside you, his cum not fitting inside your pussy anymore, leaking out, spilling on the mattress and on your ass. Your body fell limp, exhausted and dirty, as soon as he let you out of his grip. The room grew silent like a grave, only Sukuna’s panting triumphantly overcoming everything.

You felt him pick you up in his arms and carry you in the other room, where two frightened servant girls wiped your body clean of the cum, sweat and blood. You moaned in pain when the wet cloth grazed against parts of your body that were already turning purple. Your body was starting to feel cold.

The feeling of being submerged in warm water was the most comforting thing. That is until you felt Sukuna’s large frame behind you, your back resting against his chest, his hands gently pouring water over your shoulders. You sank into his embrace, flesh melting on your bones. His lips hovered above yours, as if testing to see if you were awake. Or if you would allow it? You pressed your lips against his weakly, and he kissed you gently, almost surprised that he was capable of such a soft touch. You opened your eyes languidly, the first thing you saw being the half opened door that lead to the room where a few servants were already cleaning up the blood and bodies. As if you had only dreamed about it, you blinked several times. Sukuna had killed all the people that accused you.

“So, did you?” Sukuna’s husky voice gently purred in your ear.

“Hm?” You asked, eyes still on the other room, as if you didn’t hear.

“Did you fuck the servant from the kitchen?” He asked calmly, almost unbothered, as if he didn’t kill so many people because of it. Your back straightened and your head turned to him, finding the last bit of strength in indignation.

“Of course not!” He grinned at your fervor. “Did you… ever consider it to be true?”

“I don’t need unthankful servants to tell me. I would smell it on you.” There was a hint of threat in his voice, like warning you not to ever do something you would regret. When you looked at him questioningly, he pulled you closer, pushing your back against him, his cheek touching your soft hair. His hand cupped one of your breasts as he spoke, squeezing it, running his fingers over your warm skin. “If you’re afraid, if you’re sad, if you’re angry, if you’re horny. I can smell it on you.” His other hand ran down on your body, fingers resting just above your pussy. “Now imagine if someone else touches you. You would reek of dirty human.” You were sore already, drained. But you didn’t fight his touch, you didn’t try to stop him.

“I am a human too, master Sukuna.” You said and your breath hitched when you felt his fingers lightly rub circles around your clit.

“No.” He argued, your heavy breaths filling the room. He knew you didn’t get the chance to cum the last time. “You are my queen.”

With your eyes closed your hands searched for his. He took your hands in each of his, resting at the edge of the tub, intertwining your fingers together. Your soft whimpers echoed according to the motion of his fingers and he kissed your hair, encouraging you through your orgasm.

The water was starting to get cold. You were resting there in silence, your mind rewinding everything that happened. Sukuna said he could smell fear. Did he smell the fear on you when you first walked in? When you thought he was going to kill you? When you feared he was going to leave you at the hands of his servants? Instead, he called you his queen.

“There’s… someone.” You said instead, not daring to ask these questions. The silhouette of a man standing still in the hall was visible through the half open door.

“Oh? Yeah, it’s the boy from the kitchen. I haven't decided what to do with him yet.” Sukuna replied. “He’s the only one who defended you. But then again, what could he say? Defending you means defending himself.”

“Someone needs to live to tell the tale.” You mumbled. He cocked his head to the side, encouraging you to continue. “I would free him from your service. Give him some money. He will surely spread the tale of the ruthless Ryomen Sukuna.” He didn't reply. You doubted he was going to listen to your suggestion. 

That night was the first time you went to sleep by his side. Usually you would pick up the moment after he was satisfied enough with your presence and retreated. He never commanded you to leave but never signaled he wanted you to stay, either. This time he carried you in his arms to your new room. You were probably not able to walk on your own anyway. He was going to have you moved away from the servants, closer to his chambers, he explained when he slided the door open. He laid you down on the freshly clean mattress before you felt his large frame next to you. You quickly scooped closer, with much effort since all the muscles in your body felt sore. With your head on his chest, one arm over his wide muscular torso, you fell asleep faster than ever, fatigue winning over your body. The last thing you remembered was the feeling of his fingers in your hair, while his lower hand was softly laying on your hip. You've never felt so relaxed before.

When you woke up, the painful sensation between your legs hit your brain before you were even able to open your eyes. Sukuna was nowhere to be seen. You didn't even feel him leaving your side, fallen deep in your undisturbed sleep. Next to the mattress, on a small low table, a covered tray was waiting for you to wake up. On a small note, written by hand, a message greeted you.

Regain your strength soon, my queen

next 》》 Eraser |

Ryomen Sukuna x reader

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #true form sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jujustu kaisen #sukuna jjk #sukuna imagine

[inuyashaluver]

Hey I absolutely adore your fics you are my favourite writer i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has autism and there comfort person has always been there sister leah and best friend jen and nobody has figured out how to get through to them and they dont like meeting new people but thats until alessia arrives

she’s different - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your sister notices a complete shift in you when a certain blondie makes their way into your heart

warnings: a little long! swearing, timelines don’t make sense but i am just a girl

a/n: hiya, lovely! thank you for all the love and request, it truly means so much to hear i’m your fav, what an absolute honour!! i hope i did this justice, please let me know if anything needs to be changed or altered, i’ll do it in a heartbeat! much love to you, gorgeous, enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a very special relationship. the two of you forming a bond that no one could have suspected. the people closest to you were even shocked with how much you and alessia stuck together from early on.

—

you were a sports photographer, and a good one at that. you’d always had love for taking photos, one of your main subjects being your sister, leah who was always more than willing to let you take photos of her while she trained, or during games.

while both of your siblings were sporty, you always resorted to academics. you were incredibly intelligent, excelling in school, your whole family was extremely proud of you.

photography started as a hobby in the side of your studies but you grew a love for it when people assured you your pictures were extremely good.

—

you experienced the world a little differently. from a young age, you struggled to connect to the people around you that weren’t your parents, brother or especially your sister.

you always found social situations and connections confusing, your siblings knew you inside and out so why would you need anyone else?

you often found social situations overwhelming if you weren’t with someone you knew, struggling to make friends.

the simple things that came easily to people were often a struggle to you, like maintaining eye contact or understanding body language occasionally when you were under stress.

these things were a constant anxiety and frustration for you in the beginning, feeling like something was wrong with you.

and so, when you were 13, you were taken to a specialist and were diagnosed with autism. it was from then on, the world began to make sense. the amount of love and support your family offered you helped you through the challenges of growing up diverse.

you could solace in familiarity, not really liking to step out of your comfort zone without easing into it slowly. one of the people that understood this well was leah, leah was your rock, your backbone.

she offered you stability, comfort and support even if she was just sitting next to you in silence. leah made you feel safe and understood, never really pressuring you into anything you didn’t want to.

—

when you were in university, you were working part time with both arsenal and england as a member of their media teams.

being apart of both media teams was comfortable for you, leah introducing them to you and being relieved when you got along with them. though this was hard to do, you were an absolute sweetheart.

they understood that sometimes you just needed to work in silence, letting you do what you did best and it really showed through your photos and videos. so much so, as soon as you graduated, they both hired you full time with a permanent position in both teams.

you absolutely loved it, having the opportunity to do what you loved and not feel judged. during the time you worked with arsenal, you were introduced to jen through your sister.

jen understood you like leah, not pressuring you and actually making an effort to understand you. you got along with all of leah’s friends but jen was the one that stuck.

though it didn’t come easily, pretty much everyone you were introduced to required some patience to see the real you. but once they did, it was worth it.

—

you’d met alessia through your sister of course, not offering her much more than a hello and small talk about the weather or how you wanted her to pose for campaign pictures for england.

alessia always had a special appreciation for you, she not only found you absolutely beautiful but she really appreciated how genuine you were.

from the short conversations you had together, alessia always felt a little more at ease. when she knew she was getting photographed which was often uncomfortable for her, she was relieved if you were the one taking the picture.

you thought alessia was gorgeous and it was one of the reasons you distanced yourself from her. she was close with leah so you’d talk to her if you had to, blushing without even realising.

she was also one of your favourite canvases, always listening to your instructions with a soft smile.

your sister didn’t even know you found the girl attractive, the one time she wasn’t able to read you completely. everything changed when alessia transferred from manchester united to arsenal.

—

you’d just moved out from living with leah into your own flat, one of the scariest things you’ve ever had to do but leah and jen, before she moved helped you through it.

when jen got her new contract, your heart absolutely broke, you’d cried in leah’s arms for days after she moved and you decided you needed a change, that’s why you moved out.

this didn’t mean you didn’t see leah all the time, you did at work but she’d always rock up to your house with snacks in hand for a movie marathon or just to sit and chat.

you often called and facetimed but nothing beat seeing her in person. leah found it cute how happy and excited you got seeing her every morning, always making her feel special.

“hi, bunny!” leah smiled brightly (a nickname she gave you after your childhood bunny toy that you absolutely loved). she pulled you into a hug and you felt yourself go limp in her arms, she lifts you off the ground and you laugh brightly.

she hugs you tightly just the way you loved it, one of your stims that she knew calmed you down easily.

“morning, lee” you giggle when she swung you side to side for a moment before placing you on the ground with a quick kiss to your forehead.

“so miss photographer, what are your plans today?” leah asks you, hands on her hips as she looked down at you.

“well, we have a new transfer i have to shoot for, photos and videos” you smile, making leah smile too knowing how much you loved your job. “oo, do you know who it is yet?” leah says excitedly, hearing rumours of a transfer but not knowing who it was.

“no, not yet” you sigh, slightly nervous knowing you had to introduce yourself to a potentially new person.

“do you need me to come with you?” leah questions, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “no i’m okay,” you smile appreciatively, “my little sissy is growing too fast” she coos, pinching your cheek that you quickly slapped away with a scowl.

“leah, i’m 24” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as she continued to tease you. you both chatted back and forth before you got called by your coworker, gaining a little shove from leah towards her that you sent another glare at, making your older sister send you an exaggerated air kiss.

you and your coworker discussed the basics of the shoot until you finally reached the set, seeing a blonde getting fitted in the iconic arsenal kit.

“uh, hi, i’m (y/n), i’ll be shooting with you today” you say gently as you approached the girl, not wanting to scare her, the blonde turned quickly at the sound of your voice.

“(y/n)!” your eyes widen when she turns, “alessia?” you breathe out, the girl beams at you brightly, pulling you into a quick hug that made you tense a little until a comforting smell of caramel and vanilla easily made you feel at home.

you hadn’t seen alessia in a few months, that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest when the girl locked eyes with you that you were quick to divert away.

you weren’t completely comfortable with her yet, so prolonged eye contact was out of the question.

“i’m so happy to see you, how have you been?” she grins, you nod at her, “i’m good thank you, and you?” sounding a little rehearsed, and it was, alessia made you shy.

she chuckles lightly, “really good, thank you, happy to be here” her smile was infectious, you couldn’t help the little grin playing at the corners of your lips.

you both lightly conversed as you prepared for the shoot, feeling yourself feel more comfortable around her in a way that surprised you, and alessia.

—

when you walked alessia into the gym talking and laughing softly, leah’s eyes were wide with shock. one, seeing alessia. two, seeing you laugh with alessia. three, both of you blushing like you’d just gone for a run, which she knew you didn’t.

leah scrambled up towards the both of you, pulling you into a headlock, “see you’re finally on the right side, less?” leah grins, smiling as you struggle in her grasp.

“leah! get off man!” you groan, alessia chuckles at your struggle, her hand gently grabbing your forearm, managing to pull you out of leah’s headlock.

her hand lingered for a moment before she let go, you sent her an appreciative smile before giving leah a shove on the shoulder.

“needed a change” alessia sighed, her and leah engaging in small talk while you just observed, looking back and forth between the two blondes and they laughed along with each other.

“so, did my sister treat you well?” leah teases, her arm wounding around your shoulder, you roll your eyes at leah, alessia sends you a soft smile.

“she always does” your cheeks go a little pink at that, feeling yourself cower a little further into leah that didn’t go unnoticed.

leah looked down at you challengingly but chose to dismiss it for now, you’d had romantic partners in the past but none of them really stuck. she’d seen you all shy and blushy before but never like this.

—

as the days and weeks went by, alessia was able to chip away at barriers you’d carefully constructed for years. she didn’t even know she was doing it, but what she did notice was you becoming more chatty with her, actually holding eye contact a little more than you usually do.

leah was completely shocked, in a good way, of course. all she wanted for her little sister was to be happy and from the looks of it, you were getting that.

“morning, lessi” you wave at her, alessia is quick to send you the wave back as she entered the doors at the arsenal training grounds, she pulled you into a quick hug,

“morning, (y/n/n)” she giggled as she pulled away, both of you falling into conversation as you walked alongside each other, you were photographing their training session today for socials.

when you both made it outside, you let in a sharp inhale, it was colder than you thought, alessia observed as your body shook lightly from the crisp air, shaking her head lightly at how you’d only worn a thin jacket.

she was quick to shrug hers off, draping it around your shoulders without a second thought. “lessi, no” you protest, trying to push the jacket back in her hands but alessia was quick to slip your arms through it and zip it up. “lessi, yes” she chuckles,

you pout at her slightly, “now you’ll be cold, lessi,” alessia smiles at you softly, “i’ll be running around, silly, i’ll be warm in no time” her arm around your shoulder as you still continued to protest her jacket, though you had to admit, having the smell of alessia flooding your senses was comforting.

“you really are a williamson, so stubborn” she teased, you laugh at that, nudging her with your shoulder as you both giggled.

leah watched the entire interaction with a soft smile, waving at you slightly and watching as you perked up at seeing her.

you run over to leah as she hoists you up in another hug, “so you have a sister?” leah teases, “uh, yeah, you?” you say a little confused, leah laughs loudly, pinching your cheek at your cluelessness.

“i know, bunny, i’m teasing you” she grins, “you and less have gotten really close?” your cheeks go pink at that, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked down, “she’s my friend” you say shyly, “are you sure?” leah whispers, dipping her head to look at you properly.

“i-i don’t know” you say softly, your sister pulls you into another tight hug, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’ll figure it out” you nod into her shoulder, moving away to set up your camera.

throughout training, you took photos of everyone, your photos always a favourite in the media since they always felt like more than just a photo, feeling like you always captured the person rather than the action.

you were sitting outside while editing the photos before alessia pulled up next to you. “hi, pretty girl, what’re you up to?” alessia watched as you tensed for a minute, glancing over at her quickly with a nervous expression that had her heart beating rapidly.

“oh, i’m editing” you clear your throat, getting nervous when alessia scoots a little closer to you to look at your computer screen.

she noticed you were editing a photo of her, and the sidebar was almost full of her pictures. her heart fluttered at the thought of you focusing on her, swallowing before glancing at you quickly.

“you look pretty in this one” you blurt out, immediately regretting it and pinching your nose bridge out of embarrassment.

alessia’s face was burning, muttering out a thank you as you both sat quietly for a minute before you both sparked another conversation to ease the tension.

—

“hi, gorgeous” alessia grinned as she arrived to england camp, sending you a little wink, “hi, lessi” you smile brightly, this time pulling her into a hug by yourself. she was pleasantly surprised, hugging you tightly and feeling you melt into her embrace.

“did you get here okay?” she says softly in your ear, pulling away with a hand placed on the small of your back as she walks with you.

“yeah, i came with leah” you smile at her, making the blonde smile back at you gently, “did you get here okay?” you ask back, she nods, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “mhm, better now that you’re here” she smiles, your cheeks dusting with pink as alessia’s eyes met yours.

“lee, i think alessia broke your sister” keira grins walking behind the two of you with leah and georgia next to her. leah chuckles fondly, “i think she’s got a little crush” leah whispers, georgia and keira make eye contact and smile,

“well alessia definitely feels the same, why hasn’t anything happened yet?” georgia questions, leah shrugs before giving them a warning glare, “let my sister figure this out herself, please” the two girls huff but nod, knowing you needed a little more time to come to grasp your feelings.

alessia’s arm wounds around your waist before she had to go to her room to unpack, “you know, we should do something just us two, we're in spain after all”

you look at her confused, “don’t you want to spend time with ella? you haven’t seen her in a while” alessia chuckles affectionately, shaking her head as she looked at you.

“you’re a little clueless aren’t you?” alessia grins, your face flushing, worried you just missed out on a social cue, a potentially important one.

you recounted the entire interaction between the two of you, picking it apart to see what you missed before alessia brought you out of your head.

“(y/n)” she said, leaning a little closer to you, “when i said just us two, i meant like a date, beautiful” she smiles, you were completely silent, mouth a little agape in the hotel lobby.

you were shocked, the thought of alessia returning your feelings making you extremely nervous. due to your prolonged silence, alessia grew nervous, her grip on you loosening.

“hey, if you’re not interested, that’s completely okay” she utters, “i won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do” she affirms,

“no! no! i’m very interested” you stumble on your words, “ i’d love to do something with you” you say softly, feeling like your body was on fire.

you began fiddling with the ends of your clothes, alessia’s hand moving it to hold your hand instead, smiling fondly at you.

“great, i’ll text you the time and meet me down here later?” you nod as she moved a loose strand of hair off your face, kissing your cheek quickly.

“okay,” you breathe out, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze before she moved towards the elevators making sure to smile at you another time before she really walks off.

“holy shit” you say in shock, running off frantically to try and find your sister, realising she was watching from the other side of the lobby.

“leah, help me!” you gasp, leah effectively calming you down while reminding you to breathe, “hey, slowly, what happened?” leah places both hands on your shoulders,

“alessia just asked me on a date” you whisper shouted, leah gives you the biggest, cheesiest smile, it made you feel a little uneasy.

“aren’t you supposed to be all protective right now, telling me she’s not good for me or something?” you remark, only making leah laugh, both of you knowing alessia was perfect.

“bunny, she’s perfect for you” leah admits, watching you shy away from her slightly, “really?” leah nods, giving you an encouraging expression that truly made everything feel okay.

“lessi has been flirting with you for weeks now” leah chuckles when your eyes grow wide, internally cursing yourself for not noticing the signs.

leah talked you through it, making sure you were completely comfortable before you went on the date.

—

you went on the date with alessia and to say you fell in love with her more every couple of seconds was an understatement. alessia was so gentle and genuine with you, patient and kind.

you had this girl in a chokehold and it was very much the same with you. alessia loved that she got to learn more about you, and she wanted to for the rest of her life so to speak.

for a couple of weeks, you and alessia went on dates every other day. the two of you growing so close, it truly surprised everyone around you. she asked you to be her girlfriend about a month later and giggled at how enthusiastically you agreed.

—

you’d been dating for about a year and things couldn’t have been better. everyone saw a new side of both you and alessia and it was incredibly endearing to see how in love you were with each other.

“bunny, alessia’s not the only one on the team you know?” leah teased as your lens was focused on alessia with an affectionate smile. “fuck off, lee” you laugh, taking a photo of leah flipping you off with a grin.

alessia laughed at the interaction between the two of you, jogging up to stand in front of you with a bright smile.

“baby” she grinned, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a sweet kiss on your lips, “babe, i’m working” you giggle as alessia continued to press kisses to your lips and cheeks,

“keep working then” she chuckles, moving to stand behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist as her head rested on your shoulder.

you smile as you continue to take photos of the england girls, only lasting for a couple of seconds before leah had to physically drag alessia away from you.

“i love you both but star girl needs to train” leah mocks, flicking your forehead with her arm wrapped tightly around alessia to drag her off,

“lee, wait!” you stop her, smiling before pressing a quick kiss to alessia’s lips, your sister dry retching as alessia sent heart eyes your way.

“okay, you can take her” you say cheekily, laughing as you hear leah scolding alessia for ‘corrupting’ her sweet sister while alessia shook her head in amusement.

alessia made you laugh like no one else, alessia made you feel more comfortable as yourself like you’d never experienced.

you and alessia loved each other more than anyone. even leah was willing to be a close second to your girlfriend.

although in the beginning you left alessia at a distance, you were so grateful for her persistence in breaking down your barriers, even if it took you a while.

you both knew it was a forever kind of thing. and so did everyone else.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

alessia: always the photographer xx

view all comments

yourname: i know a pretty canvas when i see one

↳ alessia: such a flirt, baby!

↳ yourname: your fault

leahwilliamsonn: sister stealer

↳ yourname: you literally told me to go on the date

↳ leahwilliamsonn: hush, bunny, i’m talking

↳ alessia: lunch tomorrow?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re paying.

↳ alessia: deal

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

[mismatched-sockss]

By your side

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader » Word count: 2,6k » Warnings: fluff with some angst, established relationship, mentions of reader wearing jewellery (necklace) and make up, pet names (honey, baby) » A/N: no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

Being in a relationship with an FBI agent - especially one working in the BAU - meant, dreading each phone call or text they got when they were off the clock and the both of you were spending time together. But it also meant, dreading each phone call you got, when they were out of town and / or state working on a case. The small heart attack you suffered every time the phone rang, the fear of hearing something happened or that they wouldn't be coming home... You prayed to who ever was listening, that you would never get the latter.

Sometimes, it meant dreading to get a call from them before they even had the chance to see you.

Your hands were still holding the clasp of your necklace between your fingers, just about to close it, when your cellphone rang. The screen lit up and for a second you closed your eyes, not quiet ready to confirm who it was.

For a second you wished the caller would be anyone else but - hell, you would even prefer it if it was your mother, who you had not spoken to in almost ten years.

A sigh left your lips when you opened your eyes and looked at the screen: Spence❤️

Well, looked like your evening plans would change.

You lowered your hands, still holding your necklace and placed it back on to the small glass bowl where you kept your most used jewellery in.

You cleared your throat before you answered the call, trying to keep even the slightest bit of disappointment from your voice. And then, you put on a smile and held your phone to your ear. "Hi, you."

"Hey." Spencer drew the greeting out, he sounded less enthusiastic then you had forced yourself to sound. This was the last piece you needed, to know that he wasn't just calling to tell you that he was excited to see you later.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, slightly gnawing on your lip.

"Where?", was all you asked. This time, you couldn't keep your tone light, no matter how hard you were trying.

After a short silence: "Oregon. Lakeview."

You nodded slowly, even though you knew he couldn't see it. "When-", you had to clear your throat again, "uh, when are you leaving?"

"We're about to get on the jet", Spencer answered. It pained him just as much as you, maybe even more, that he had to cancel on you. Again. On your one year anniversary of all days. And you didn't even have some time to at least talk on the phone for a couple of minutes before he had to go.

For a moment neither of you said a word. This wasn't the first time he had to cancel your plans due to his work and it sure as hell would not be the last time. You knew what you were getting yourself in to when Spencer and you started seeing each other. You knew that it would probably happen more times than not and you accepted it; you were more than understanding that the bad guys didn't care for nine-to-fives, weekends or holidays.

You were more than understanding that, while yes, you were a priority in his life, the job would have to come first. And you were fine with that, his job wasn't one he could just “pause” to spent more time with you. But no matter how okay you were with Spencer's unpredictable work hours, that didn't mean it didn't affect you. You couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed when ever he got called away, every time wishing he would stay.

You knew from the start, that it would be hard and it would take a lot of work. But he was worth all of this.

Over the phone you could hear another voice, too distant to make out what was being said, but you didn't need to. It was your cue: your time was up.

"I'm s- I have to go. I'm sorry, honey", Spencer apologized. He would apologise a hundred times more if you'd let him.

"It's okay", you say, a sad smile on your lips.

"I am so sorry, I promise I'll make it-"

But you interrupted him, knowing that he wanted to say that he would make it up to you; and knowing, that he would. "It's okay, baby. Go, they need you. Really, it's okay. I'm okay. I'll see you when you get back. Just... Be safe, okay?"

"I will", he promised, "I will... I love you."

"I love you too." Then, the call ended.

You took in a shaky breath to calm yourself down and wiped the single tear that had escaped from your cheek. Exhaling all the air in your lungs out at once, you squared your shoulders and made eye contact with yourself in the mirror. You had only gone through your skin care routine after you got out of the shower, so there was no make up you had to remove.

A tight lipped smile on your lips, you nodded at yourself. "Just gonna be you, some chinese take out and a nice relaxing horror movie tonight", you mumbled. You stood up, changed into some comfortable clothes and then walked into the kitchen to get the flyer of your favourite chinese restaurant out of the drawer.

It had been almost a week since then. He hadn't told you any details of course, but the simple textbook case that first landed on their desks had turned out to be much bigger than anyone could have imagined.

Spencer had called you every evening, and hearing his voice calmed your worries and fears of him getting hurt, but each phone call made you miss him more and more.

Tonight, he hadn't called you yet and it was getting pretty late. You had gotten a text from him not too long ago, a quick check in, so you knew he was okay.

While you waited, you had brought a book and cup of tea with you as you moved from the couch to your bed. With a pillow in your back, you were leaning against the headboard, your blanket draped over your legs, and your phone lay next to you on the bed.

You looked up from your book to check the time. It was close to one o'clock and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open, sleep already pulling at your conscience, but you didn't want to go to sleep without talking to Spencer. A couple of minutes would do it, you just wanted to hear his voice. You continued reading, but Morpheus had other plans for you, and so you drifted into a deep sleep, your book still in your hands.

A soft touch, first on your forehead and hair, then on your shoulder pulled you out of your dreams just enough for you to feel the bed dip behind you, followed by an arm sneaking around your waist. You hummed happily, when lips pressed against your shoulder and your neck in a few chaste kisses before you were pulled closer against a firm chest.

The smell of coffee and something sweet tickled your nose hours later, slowly stirring you awake. With your eyes still closed you inhaled through your nose, sniffing the air, trying to make out the different smells. If you weren't mistaken, Spencer had baked blueberry-pancakes. It smelled delicious, that was for sure.

Your attention was quickly drawn away though, when you became aware of the feathery kisses being planted on your neck; you vaguely remembered feeling the same kisses last night. A hand gently rubbed over your upper arm, from your elbow up to your shoulder where fingertips moved so softly over your shoulder blade it almost tickled, before the hand travelled back down to your elbow.

A smile spread on your lips as your heartbeat quickened and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your stomach. You sighed and slightly moved your head to make more room for the man behind you.

You could feel the lips on your skin stretching into a smile as well, could feel the low chuckle bubbling up in the chest that was pressed against your back. He scooted even closer, moulding his body to the silhouette of yours. Spencer planted one last kiss on the top of your shoulder before he rested his cheek against it and looked at you.

"Good morning", he said softly, his warm breath hit your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. He, obviously, had been up for a while already, but his voice still had that raw and rough undertone like it always had in the morning.

"Hey", you sighed as you stretched your tired muscles, then you turned around, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. "You're back."

He hummed and leant into your touch, his eyes closed. You let your eyes wander over his face, checking for any cuts or bruises. Relief flooded through you when you didn't find any.

"You okay?", you asked.

He nodded and reached up to cover your hand with his. "Just tired."

"I bet. You didn't say you were coming back. Waited for you to call", you mumbled.

He kissed your wrist and gently squeezed your hand, then he opened his eyes again to meet your gaze. "Surprise?", he joked, but you could hear a hint of guilt in his tone. "I hope I didn't keep you up too long? I'm sorry, I should have at least texted you."

You shook your head. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad your here now and that you are okay."

"But-", he started but you closed the space between you and kissed him.

"Shh, no buts. I'd stay awake and wait the whole night if it means that I get you back, unharmed and in one piece." You kissed him again, letting you lips linger a bit longer this time.

When you pulled away and saw his furrowed brows and the conflicted look in his eyes, you could almost hear the gears in Spencer's mind working.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers through your hair and pulled you closer. He pressed his lips against your forehead, but not in the light hearted way he had kissed you before, then he tucked your head under his chin. And if he wouldn't have been so close, you might not have heard the words he whispered next.

"You deserve so much better..."

If someone would have stabbed you with a dull knife multiple times right into your heart, it wouldn't have hurt you as much as his muttered words just had.

"Don't say that", you said, your voice muffled with the way your face was so close to his neck.

In contradiction to what he was implying - or maybe especially because of what he was implying -, Spencer's hold on you tightened, leaving no room for you to put any distance between the both of you even if you wanted. "Why not? It's true... You don't deserve-"

"A sweet and loving boyfriend, who gets up to make breakfast even on days when he had about two hours of sleep at best, all after a whole week of working like 24h a day?" You did your best to sound light hearted. "Wow, that's harsh."

He huffed, but stayed silent for a moment.

"I mean it, you don't deserve someone who you can't even make plans with, without the possibility that they have to leave in the middle of it and who leaves you alone all the time", he mumbled against the crown of your head. It took everything in you not to start crying; for you, for him, for the possibility of an end to the future you wanted with him. "I hate that I have to cancel our dates all the time. I feel like I'm letting you down..." You felt his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "And I would understand if you wouldn't want to put up with that any more.”

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed slightly, just enough so you could lean your head back and look at him. Tears had not only welled up in your eyes, but his as well. To stop your lip from quivering you pulled it between your teeth. You slid one of your hands higher, over the side of his neck and up to the side of his face. For a moment you softly stroked your thumb over his cheek, but then went on to try and flatten out the space between his brows, to remove the deep frown on his face.

You took a deep breath. “Did you save some lives in Oregon?”, you asked him, you voice not much louder than a whisper.

“Huh? What?” Confusion was written all over his face.

“Did you?”

“Uh, yes.”

You smiled at him. “And did you catch the bad guy?”

“... Yes.”

“Good." You brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes behind his ear. "That's enough for me. Then there is nothing to feel bad about. You don't leave on purpose or with ill intentions. Then things don't always go as planned, so what? I know how much this job means to you, and I know how important it is for the people in need that you do it."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye and landed on the pillow. You let your eyes wander over his face, before stopping to meet his gaze.

"And that's exactly why you deserve better", he whispered, his voice braking.

You shook your head. "I don't want anything or anyone else. I don't want what ever you mean by better." You leaned closer, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I want you. " Another kiss to the other side. "And only you." You planted a kiss on the tip of his nose next. "With or without a crazy and unpredictable work schedule. I'm not gonna lie, yes it's hard. And I need you by my side, too. But still, I wouldn't trade it for the world." You pressed your lips to his, before you whispered: "I love you. More than anything. And I'm gonna stay by your side, come hell or high water, for as long as you'll have me. So don't shut me out, or push me away and try to get me to leave. Because I won't."

Both of you were in tears by now, not even trying to stop it any more. Neither of you said anything else for a minute or two, instead you let your words settle.

Spencer cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away with his thumb. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you. How did I get so lucky?", he said softly and then brushed the pad of this thumb over your bottom lip.

You giggled. "That's my line."

He smiled and closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. "I love you", he breathed out against your lips before he kissed you again.

You smiled into the kiss. “I love you too.”

For few minutes the both of you just basked in the bliss of the moment; laying warm and content in each others arms, the soft sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window and the promise of a delicious breakfast that was waiting for you.

And there was only one question left to ask.

“Eat in the kitchen or breakfast in bed?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r. #--- mismatched🧦

[dannyriccsupremacy]

suburban legends | CL16

| charles leclerc x fem!exgf!reader smau

| summary : charles doesn't do enough to keep his girlfriend and when the internet finds out, they are less than happy.

| faceclaim : christina nadin

| part one here ! part two here !

youruser just posted a story!

yn, her bff, chloe, julia and amelia all sat at a cafe by the water catching up. their drunken plans from the club bathroom that night had turned into a reality, and they were all so excited to see each other- and follow each other on social media.

as they were chatting, giggling with each other, your bff suddenly gasped and scoffed.

"whats that for?" yn asked, slighting laughing at her antics.

"ex-o'clock." she said sipping her drink, "yours, not mine."

"what?!" yn exclaimed, giving her bff a look, "definitely him?"

your bff nodded, rolling her eyes. the other three girls were avidly looking at everyone in the vicinity, trying to work out which man was eliciting this reaction from the duo.

"brown hair, sunglasses, white shirt, two o'clock." your bff answered their unspoken question.

the trio's eyes landed on the man at the same time, and amelia suddenly went white. soon the other four's attention was on her, concerned.

"miels, what's wrong?" julia asked, placing her hand on amelia's arm.

"oh, n-nothing." amelia shook her head.

"no, honey, what's wrong?" chloe questioned, her curiosity peaking.

"i feel awful. i didn't know, i swear." amelia apologised frantically.

"know what?" yn furrowed her brows.

"he's the one i'm talking to right now. charles is the one i'm seeing. and yn, your the ex he isn't over yet." amelia blurted, cheeks turning pink.

"amelia... i am so, so sorry." yn apologised, a sympathetic expression on her face.

"yn! do not apologise. especially not for a man!" amelia scolded, laughing slightly, "i was going to break things off with him anyway. he is well and truly still in love with you."

yn smiled sadly, taking another glance at the man, only to find him already staring at her, love still shining in his eyes.

liked by lilymhe, sacreskin + 90,367 others

youruser bros b4 hoes 😉

view all 16,324 comments

yourbff words of wisdom

user omg is this about that one tweet??

ameliahobart bros 4ever

user in her post breakup popularity era

user yn is so hot

juliaverner marry me pls!!

↳ chloedarren she said no hoes maam 🚫

user i bet charles misses her

lilymhe no hoes here 🙅‍♀️

↳ alex_albon lily???

↳ carmenmundt get over yourself albono. sucks 4 u

↳ georgerussell63 carmen???

↳ youruser please no hoes in the comment section. read the sign.

↳ francisca.cgomes yeah scram

↳ pierregasly kika???

↳ user i love the unhingedness in yns comment section

amelia sat across from yn, a slightly embarrassed look on her face.

"look, yn, i really like you and i really want to stay friends with you, so i just really need to tell you this so i don't think that our entire friendship is built on lies." amelia blurted, causing the confused look on yn's face. yn nodded for her to continue.

"basically, charles hired me. i'm an aspiring actress and i answered a call he had put out for someone that fit my description. when i sat down and met him for the first time, he explained that he wanted someone to pretend that they were his girlfriend to make his ex- you- jealous." she explained, wringing her hands together.

"when i first met you, i didn't know you were the ex, but he told me to keep up the act with everyone since monaco is such a small place and everyone talks." she took a breath, "but then when your bff pointed out him as your ex, i wanted to say something, but i really liked you so i didn't want to ruin the friendship we had already created."

yn sat in silence as she took in the girl's words. "okay."

"okay?" amelia was nervous, "just okay? is that like a bad okay, or is it a good okay?"

"a good okay," yn smiled, "i really want to keep being your friend so i'm so happy that you told me now. i definitely would of had to re-evaluate the relationship if it happened later down the line."

"oh thank god!" amelia let out a sigh of relief, at which yn laughed, "but i do want to let you know that charles still truly loves you. like he would not shut up about how amazing you are. i have only heard his side of the story, but if i were you, i would definitely get back together with him."

"he kissed me in a way that screwed me up forever, then i broke my own heart because he was too afraid to do it." yn responded, thinking back on their relationship.

"sounds like you were born to be suburban legends!" amelia giggled.

"i think i might." yn grinned.

"now i did meet his friend lando... what's his deal?"

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff + 95,375 others

youruser our mismatched star signs surprised everyone 🤷‍♀️

view all 21,598 comments

yourbff pop off ig

↳ youruser slay

pierregasly at least he doesn't mope around anymore

↳ youruser aw honey you moped?

↳ charles_leclerc FALSE. LIES. MISINFORMATION.

user MY PARENTS!!!! ARE BACK TOGETHER!!!

↳ user NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE!!!

user i cant believe theyre back together

user honestly... i would too

ameliahobart the cutest couple!! (set me up with ykw pls!!)

↳ juliaverner dont manipulate them

↳ ameliahobart but i manipulated them together 😔

↳ chloedarren 🎶 cause [she's] a mastermind 🎶

user NATIONAL TREASURES.

authors note i literally took so long to get this part out i am so sorry!! but this will be the last part. a spin off may occur 👀

@allywthsr @sunny44 @coolio2195 @multi-fanss @babyliz43-blog @redbullgirly @smnthnclj @d3kstar @living-with-ghost @noonesgoneuntiltheyregone

#formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagines #charles leclerc fluff #scuderia ferrari #f1 2023 #f1 edit #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc pov #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 #lando norris #lewis hamilton #max verstappen

[qpidkitea]

TRANQUILITY

FARLEIGH START X FEM! READER

PRÉCIS: AU where Oliver is caught before he fully takes over Saltburn, Felix is still dead, and obviously Farleigh is completely torn and in need of comfort at the loss of his best friend and cousin, takes place after the curtain scene

WARNING: Angsty, cursing, mentions of death, cheek kisses, descriptions of a dead body, so much crying, comfort.

Nothing could've prepared you for today. Nothing could've prepared you for the horrified scream of Elspeth that's still ringing in your ears after the finding of Felix's dead body. His face was blue and swollen, a white, foamy, dried substance cascading down his cheek. His wings from his costume were bent and dirtied as he lay face down on the floor. The police discovered Oliver and his schemes almost immediately. They found the discarded powdered poison laying just a few yards away from the crime scene in the maze. His fingerprints were all over it.

Lunch was unbearable. After watching Oliver being pulled away from the mansion in handcuffs, everyone, especially Farleigh, was excused, his previous claims of drug use dismissed. Silent tears streamed down almost everyone's faces. Venetia almost looked dead. She was surely high on some type of pills, her mascara horribly smudged on her pale face. You wanted to help her, but you feared that if you touched her, she would crumble under your touch completely. Farleigh was shaking horribly, trembling with the effort of trying to keep his breakdown at bay, but tears still found their way down his face.

You sat silently beside Farleigh, holding and squeezing his hand underneath the table, staring down at the soon-to-be cold Shepards Pie on the table in front of you. Elspeth clears her throat, and you look up. She smiles at you, lifting her wineglass and taking an almost dangerous gulp of wine. She sets down the glass, the sound of it being painfully loud because of the quietness of the entire place, the only other sounds being small sniffles, and the sound of Jame's fork and knife cutting into his meal.

"Y/N darling?" Elspeth's voice startles you, sucking you out of the silence of your own head.

"Yes?" You didn't know what she could've possibly asked you at the moment. Your thoughts bounced off the walls of your head, wondering if she would ask you anything about Oliver. Maybe a question about if you noticed any of this behavior at school, or while he lived here..

"Did you enjoy the party?" Farleigh chuckles slightly, squeezing your hand impossibly tight. He shook his head in utter disbelief at her question.

Before you could answer, Duncan enters the room quietly, leaning down next to Sir James, who looks completely unfazed but yet mortified. Duncan then whispers in James' ear, something about closing the curtains in case the coroner passes the window of the room that you all sat in.

"Yes. Thank you. Close them."

Duncan closes the curtains smoothly, the room becoming an almost evil looking red as they close. There was one area left of the room that still shun with the beautiful light of the morning, and you can't help but think how the day would be perfect for laying in the tall grass fields underneath the warm sun, ignoring the cold breeze that would pass you. Duncan takes a few steps to close the last curtain, only to struggle horribly. Something must've been caught. His efforts became more aggressive, especially after noticing the coroner walking closer to the window. Sir James became more aggravated at each tug of the curtain.

"Duncan, just get them closed, for Christ's sake!" Sir James yells and angrily lets his fists slam against the table, and it makes everyone in the room jump.

"Yes, I am trying, sir. I can’t-" Duncan gives the curtain a final yank, and the room is plunged into the same red darkness. As if on cue, the sound of the gurney that held Felix's body rolled on the gravel, complete with the ambulance doors shutting harshly. That seemed to be Farleigh's final straw. He stands up abruptly, still holding your hand, which yanks your arm, forcing you to stand up with him. As Farleigh walks away, you walk with him quietly, ignoring the protested yells of Sir James. He walks quickly, still shaking, with tears flowing down his face.

Even though Farleigh was walking incredibly fast, it seems the walk was longer than usual, his long legs working overtime as he walks the enormous expanse of the mansion.

"Farleigh... slow down please'm gonna fall-" You were tripping on your own two feet, whisking down hallways and turning the curves of the wall way too fast to even register you were turning them.

"Shut up"

You weren't trying to submit to him, nor show your weakness, but you knew he was frustrated, so you shut your mouth. Farleigh loved the feeling of control, especially after feeling like he had none recently. As you reach Farleigh's room, you immediately noticed the white powder spread across in a thin line across the brown wooden desk in his room. You take your hand away from his, pushing the door closed gently. As the door closes behind you, Farleigh breaks down, not even making it to his bed before his knees give out. Sobbing quietly with his back turned and his arm and head resting on the edge of the messy, unmade bed, his body jumping with every try to catch his breath.

You walk quickly to him, crouching down next to him, not worried about your skirt riding up, not around him. Rubbing your hand up and down his back, you gave him a minute to let it all out, to let all the tears out that couldn't be let out in the somewhat hostile situation of lunch.

"Farleigh..." Before you knew it, five minutes passed, and it seemed as if Farleigh's cries weren't faltering, still crying and sniffing at the intensity that he was when he started.

"Farleigh, darling please, breathe for me." He breathe's in wildly, his breath was so shaky, you thought that if he tried to breathe in properly, his lungs would explode. He finally lifts his head up, his face extremely red from crying and the lack of a proper breath. You cup his wet face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks, drying them as you do.

Instead of words, you do. You breathe in deeply, and Farleigh mocks you shakily, but he still does. You hold your breath for a minute before exhaling. With each inhale you take, he mirrors your breath again, and again, and again, until he returns to normal breathing.

You pull the wreck of a boy into a tight hug. He doesn't hug you back, but you don't mind. Pulling back, you kiss his cheeks and then his forehead, which seems to calm him down all together. A hiccup is heard coming from him and you can't help but giggle. The poor boy cried too hard to the point of hiccups.

"Thank you" Farleigh looks into your eyes as he says this, words sounding strange from the swelling of his sinuses and vocal cords. He looks down at his lap, sighing harshly before leaning his head against his bed, feeling his neck dampen from his own tears that stained the sheets.

"Here, let me get you a cold cloth." You stand up, traveling down the hall to the cold bathroom. It was a chilly day at Saltburn. You open the small closet next to the door, opening it to reveal a stack of purple, white, and beige washcloths. You grab a purple one and walk to the sink. As you turn on the sink, you run your fingers underneath the cold water, your fingers going numb as the water turns colder. You place the rag under the running water, letting it completely soak, the color of the cloth becoming a deep purple.

You turn off the water and squeeze the rag of the remaining water, unfolding it and letting it swing in the air, letting the chilly air make the rag colder. As you walk back down the hall, you were happy to hear silence. Happy to hear that Farleigh hadn't cried again. You walk into the doorway and see Farleigh still where you left him, with his head leaning back on the bed. You sit down next to him on your knees. The hardwood floors hurt, but it was all worth it for your sweet boy.

Placing a cool wet rag on his hot face felt like heaven for Farleigh. He sighed deeply as you pressed the rag to his face. You couldn't see his face, but you could tell he was smiling. His face cooled down quickly, and he soon exhaled harshly because of restricted air flow coming through his covered face. He was okay. And you were glad he was okay.

"What the fuck would I do without you?" His words come out muffled, nasally, and strained, but you still heard him. You pull the rag off his face and gently kiss his cheek for the third time.

"Probably suffer"

#farleigh start #saltburn #archie madekwe #farleigh start x reader #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #felix catton #oliver quick #farleigh start x fem reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh imagine #saltburn imagine #farleigh x reader

[roseykat]

TITLE: How they are when they cum

SYNOPSIS: OT8 version of...the title x

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions/descriptions of orgasms, blowjobs, sex positions. Nothing too major.

A/N: Take this as a filler while I wrap up my post for Shutterfly Butterfly. I actually really enjoyed creating these blurbs and will do more in the future.

BANG CHAN

Groans and grunts. He’s pretty vocal in bed and on the very strong occasion where he cums as hard as he always does, he’ll announce it, and it’s the hottest thing ever. There’s nothing sexier than a man expressing how much pleasure they’re in through such an erotic thing. Usually his moans and incoherent words sound so panicked before he combusts inside of you, like he’s dying to cum but doesn’t want to yet so as to savour your warm, wet, heat wrapping around his cock. 

-

MINHO

Is gripping onto you when he cums. Whether it’s by digging his nails into the skin and flesh of your hips or ass, grabbing a fistful of your hair, groping your tits - he needs something to help him channel such a surge of pleasure when he orgasms. His moans are very breathy and very consistent. He won’t always announce that he’ll cum but you can tell when he does. If it’s not the warm load inside of you, it’ll be the silence he exudes that will give it away. For some reason, that’s how you can identify how hard he’s actually cumming. 

-

CHANGBIN

Will not shut up, and you don’t want him to either. Every ounce of pleasure he gets from fucking you, sends him into another realm. But when he cums? A whole other level. The pleasure is out of his depth that it rattles throughout every cell in his body. His eyes will flutter, mouth slightly ajar for your name to spill out. When he cums, he also has the tendency to bury his face into your neck, depending on the position. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he just doesn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming waves of euphoria. 

-

HYUNJIN

He will moan your name repeatedly and it’ll be in the most beautiful airy voice known to this earth. Sometimes he can be quiet but not intentionally. He’s just trying his best not to cum so quickly and feels that hearing his own moans mixed with yours will get him there faster when he actually wants to drag out how good he feels for as long as he can. He’ll mutter quietly to you against your lips that he’s ‘gonna cum’ and when he does, his forehead might rest on yours or he’s kissing you as he’s cumming, and he’s all flustered and rushed. 

-

HAN

Whiny. Whiny as fuck and whimpers. He tries to stifle his moans with the back of his hand or maybe he’ll be biting down on your shoulder or something. But when you have both of his hands cuffed or pinned by the sides of his head when you ride him, he is the loudest, whiniest person in existence. You’ve even thought about gagging him, especially before he cums at least. He’s so prone to being overstimulated a lot and has most definitely cried before when you’ve made him orgasm. 

-

FELIX

Will most likely say to you “gonna make me cum,” every time the two of you have sex or you’re giving him head, right before he orgasms. He wants you to know that you’re the one unraveling his sanity for a good thirty seconds. Felix is vocal, loud, and almost borderline whiny. Despite having such a deep voice, his whimpers can be the complete opposite. It’s just a sign that he’s struggling to deal with so much pleasure that his body can possibly handle. 

-

SEUNGMIN

Sometimes he might hold his breath when he cums because he is just in so much of a state of pleasure, his body doesn’t know how to react. Therefore, you might not always get sounds out of him - which is good because that’s how you know he’s cumming hard. If you’re perhaps giving him a blowjob, his head will tip back, voice lodged in his throat until he’s spilling white wherever you’ll let him. But in the few seconds after he cums, Seungmin is either swearing or moaning as well; most of the time, both.

-

JEONGIN

Similar to most; moans a lot to a T. He can get sort of embarrassed by it even though you reassure him that it’s okay to express how good you feel in the moment, especially after you told him how much you like it. From there he’s become a bit more relaxed and now he won’t hold back. They’re sort of high pitched, but low and strained in some cases when he’s absolutely railing you. Will also breathe out “baby” over and over again as he approaches the edge of his orgasm.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #rosiewritesskz #bang chan smut #i.n smut #seungmin smut #felix smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut

[lex-the-flex]

Darker Than Wine

Astarion x Mortal! reader

Summary: In the ruined castle, the King silently rules over all that is dark and unnatural. Shrouded in the endless mysteries of his cruel abilities, he hungers for something stronger than wine.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): Moments of fluff, Astarion being a true lover/King, (spoiling the reader), established relationship, Astarion and the reader opening up, brief alcohol consumption, 18+ – PURE SMUT, basic porn with little plot lol, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving), HEAVY vampirism, blood, descriptions of injuries, and brief moments of pain.

A/N: From what I've seen from BG3, I'm absolutely IN LOVE with Astarion and Neil's incredible voice acting! Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

A defining silence takes over the once great castle, inviting only superstitions and ghost stories to walk through the grand halls. Memories of the past overtook the ruins of Cazador's Palace and were replaced with newer, happier ones. But only behind closed doors.

On the outside however, the various village occupants did not dare to enter through the large doors, in fear of the cruel King who sat on his throne, ruling over nothing but darkness.

Hiding in the shadows, The Pale Elf accomplished all, and he achieved this with a mortal by his side. Except there was one problem: he thirsted for something more greater than wine.

The library's cozy atmosphere brought an inviting sense of serenity by the warmth of the infinite fireplace. Sitting on a lounge chair, you tried to focus on a new novel from the seemingly endless bookshelves containing sheltered and well-preserved books from the two hundred years of your husband and his master’s adventures long before you were born. 

Taking another sip from your wine glass, the tart dark liquid helps you focus, but only for a millisecond. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you tried to get back into the book, but another presence from the far corner of the room distracts you once more. 

“You’re staring again, Astarion.” You announced, closing your book and leaving your place bookmarked with your finger. 

Turning to face him, his silver orbs glow in the darkness, before returning to his normal red. 

“It just comes naturally, dear. Especially in your soothing presence.” Astarion replies, walking to the chair. 

Cupping your face from behind, Astarion leans down and meets your lips for a small kiss. 

“Mm, delectable. You know I’ll never get used to this.” He says with a smile. 

“Well, we are married after all. So you might have too.” You reply, setting your book down.

"And yet I still don't know what comes next. But as long as you're here, we can truly accomplish anything, Y/N." Astarion says, walking around to face you.

Closing his arms around you, he lowers his chin to your shoulder, never getting tired of your embrace. Silently shaking in his touch, your breath hitches between your pink lips. Taking your arms in his hands, Astarion faces you with a wave of concern emerging in every corner of his face.

"You're shaking. Is everything alright, darling?" He asks, gently stroking your cheek.

"Everything's fine. I promise, it's just..." You start, but mumble with your answer.

"But what? It was Araj again, wasn't it? She said something to you." Astarion assumes, and a wave of rage begins to boil in his blood.

"No, it wasn't Araj, I swear. I'd like to--" You try again, but can't.

"You'd what?" Astarion continues, leaning his forehead to yours, hoping to calm your nerves.

"I'd like to do what we talked about. Finally making our marriage real ...and holding up my end of our deal." You explain, swallowing your embarrassment.

Taking in your confession, Astarion overcomes his tiny state of shock.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I'd love to, darling." He whispers, hesitant to give you an answer.

“Are you sure?” You ask, sliding your hands to his shoulders.

“I’ve never wanted anything more for the last two years.” He replies, pressing his lips to yours.

*****

Guiding you back to the dark space of your shared private chambers, Astarion swung his cape from his shoulders, tossing it to a nearby wardrobe chest. Cupping your jawline with both hands, he passionately kissed you in the dimly lit room, carefully backing you towards the large bed. 

Carefully removing your dress, Astarion’s fingers graze around the curves of your hips before reaching your waistline, desperately ready to have you. Throwing the piece of fabric back into the room, you playfully gasped at the action, to which he replied with his signature smirk. 

“We can always buy you another one, dear.” Astarion said, just as he began removing his boots.

Taking off the remainder of his ebony robes, Astarion lifts you in his touch, gently laying you down. Tracing his lips over your shoulders, you gasped at his softness. 

“Astarion?” You asked, lifting your head to face him.

“Yes, my love?” He replied, giving you his full attention.

“…Go slow, please.” You hesitated, shyly squeezing his shoulder. 

A brief pause filled the air whilst he instantly knew what you meant. 

“Oh, then this’ll be delicious.” He teased, smirking at your request.

Descending your body, Astarion sank to his knees before continuing up your nude form with sweet, yet feverish kisses. Gliding his way down to your inner thighs, his lips ran along the sensitive skin, before parting your folds with his tongue, earning himself your first real moan.

“That’s it, darling. Don’t hide your lust from me.” Astarion instructed as he held your hips down. 

Gathering your bundle of nerves in his mouth, his tongue pushes past your entrance. Swirling around your ecstasy, and he took his time eating you out before you eventually came all over his tongue. Collecting yourself, the stars in your eyes faded and you were greeted by the sight of Astarion hovering above you. 

“You alright?” He asked, observing your current state. 

“More than alright.” You answered with a quick giggle. 

“Excellent.” He smiled, then guided your legs around his hips. 

Aligning himself with your dripping folds, Astarion teased you with his erect tip, prepping you to take all of him. Pushing his manhood past your entrance, you both moaned together at this feeling. Slowly moving his hips against your own, Astarion heeded your wishes, and took in your lust that was clogging his lungs. 

Grazing his teeth over the flesh of collarbones, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, prompting him to continue. Astarion’s sharp fangs teased your ticklish skin, forcing a layer of goosebumps to rise up. Feeling the rhythm of your pulse in his pointed ears, he enjoyed the pounding pace of your heartbeat one last time before thrusting deeper into you. 

Following in time with his thrusts, your hands slid down to his ass, and your shared moans became music to his ears. Feeling a heat rising in the pit of your stomach, you tensed at this sensation, but your husband was right there to guide you. 

Your walls tightened around Astarion’s cock which made him see stars beneath his red eyes. A growl emerged from his chest and he quickened his pace, riding out your orgasm with love and adoration. Finishing after you, you both held your sweaty and exhausted bodies closer just as rays of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the curtains. 

Collecting you in his arms, Astarion sat you on his lap, giving you reassuring kisses along the way. Running your fingers through his hair, you traced your fingers along Astarion’s eyebrows and jawline, humming at his eternal beauty, 

“If you were to do this, Y/N, there’s no going back. You’d be leaving your mortal life behind. Are you sure you want this?” He asks with a bit of sadness in his eyes. 

“I’m sure. This is what I want, and I want it with you.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair. 

Nodding at your decision, Astarion lowered his lips to your chest, pressing kisses to your bare breasts. Rolling his tongue around your nipples, he tugged on your breasts with his teeth before letting go with a satisfying pop. Trailing up to your collarbones, the echo of your pulse rang in his Elven ears, causing them to tingle. 

The sharpness of his fangs gilded against your neck, tickling your throat as Astarion gathered you in his arms and bit down on your flesh. Sinking his teeth into your warm skin, he ravished in the taste of blood. The sweetness drove him mad and he took what he desired. The sounds of your voice brought him back, Astarion continued and carefully bit his own wrist before encasing your lips around the small wound. 

Drinking in his blood, Astarion gently laid you back down, and watched you transform into your new vampire body, giving you the most beautiful pair of crimson eyes he’d ever seen. 

tagging ~

@dreamliners

@violetthecreator

@the-resident-vampire

@bitten-by-astarion

@loveandfictionforall

@tripleyeeet

@macabre-mangled

@demigoddessqueens

@sweatandwoe

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x y/n #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #the pale elf

[tripleyeeet]

PAINFUL VULNERABILITIES (5)

SUMMARY: When your past begins to blend into your present, you find yourself longing for Astarion's comfort.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,648

WARNINGS: ANGST, hurt/comfort, body horror elements, descriptions of torture involving a knife, panic attack, sort of made up Illithid lore??? (I promise there's comfort in the end, I'm sorry!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Day 5 literally doesn't have a prompt because this idea got terribly out of hand so let's just ignore that and enjoy the angst, shall we?

(Also again, a lot of people's tags weren't working so next time if you haven't fixed it I will be taking you off the list because taglists are a bitch!)

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The nightmares start a few days later.

At first, they’re subtle. Wisps of darkness cloud your thoughts, leaving no memory behind. Silently it lingers, creeping through your skull in waves that inevitably crash against the shore, ripping you awake —leaving you breathless each time you’re left gasping for air in your dishevelled bedroll. When it happens, it always makes you jolt up to look around, trying to find the cause of your plague. The reason why you’re suddenly so wary to lay your head each night.

When you reach the Underdark they only get worse. 

What were once forgotten memories become recurring torments. Endless onslaughts of clawed hands that scratch at your flesh, pulling back skin in massive chunks that pluck excitedly at your insides. 

Thanks to the powers of the Illithid you feel every movement. Every poke and prod slips through you like a knife, cutting you down piece by piece until you’re nothing but a shell. An empty carcass of bone that’ll inevitably be harvested for a purpose far greater than yourself.

Or so she says. As you lie there, writhing in pain, blinking to shield the teeth that bear witness to your torture, you hear her whisper cool and quiet, telling you of your death. Of your fated downfall, and then of your— 

You always wake up before she finishes.

Before you can hear her utter the words you’ve heard a thousand times. Feeling the burn of your lungs, you stretch your fingers across your chest in remembrance, breathing in and out as the skin beneath your digits runs hot and you’re forced to forget the experience all over again.

When you reach camp that night, sore from the seemingly never-ending mushroom forage, you find yourself dreading the prospect of such sleep. Even through the exhaustion, the last thing you want to do is rest your head lest she arrives tonight, so you fight the urge, settling in against the edge of the fire. 

“You look tired.” 

You turn to look at Gale with half-closed eyes, offering him the softest grin you can muster before turning toward the flames. They seem brighter than usual. A decorative flash of warm-toned hues that make you blink and rub your eyes, somehow feeling even more languid. 

“Mushroom hunting take it out of you?”

You hum, making no move to look his way as you pull your knees to your chest, curling in on yourself for comfort. 

As much as you’ve grown to like Gale’s company, all you want right now is silence. A moment of peace where you can just stare into the fire and let your eyes burn from something other than the lack of sleep. Especially after spending the day alongside Lae’zel and Shadowheart as some poorly trained mediator. Just the thought of opening your mouth to speak feels like a threat to your vocal cords. The prospect of speech too much to handle, even as Gale begins to fill you in on his and Wyll’s misadventures with a nearby myconid colony.

“They’re truly such interesting creatures. Did you know…”

His voice falls on deaf ears, earning you nothing but a confused sigh once he realizes you’re not listening. Mostly because it’s not normal for you to just blatantly ignore your peers. 

“Are you alright? Need anything? Perhaps a drink or a—“

You’re standing upright before he can even finish his sentence, brushing the ass of your leathers before walking away, paying no mind to the curious wizard as he looks around the camp, catching the eye of Wyll who merely shrugs. 

It’s not like you to leave. To ignore a friend mid-conversation but your voice is gone. Lost to the void of constant intercession and a brewing anxiety that sits in your chest. As you walk towards your tent you can feel it shifting. Starting at your gut, everything twists to form a sickly sting. A stabbing pain that throbs within your abdomen, threatening to grow as you part the fabric and crawl inside, plopping into bed face first.

Despite your better judgement, you let out a low groan you’re sure at least someone hears causing you to frown, knowing that you’re better than this. Better than neglecting your health because of some silly nightmares. Better than letting the fear of your past get the better of you. Better than brooding about it. 

Turning to lie on your back, you palm the sockets of your eyes in frustration, letting your mind wander. Allowing yourself to feel everything you’ve been suppressing over the last twelve or so hours.

Aside from exhaustion, it’s mostly Astarion that surfaces. His face in the darkness looking at you as you left camp that morning, barely awake enough to give him a nod. In an instant it was as if he was there and gone, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place before shifting out of view alongside an overly excited Karlach. It was the kind of look that made you question its intentions. Its knitted brows and pursed lips rising and falling through your memories between the scuffles of your two companions. 

As you walked along the edges of the Underdark’s cliff sides, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it represented. What emotion it was trying to convey in such a small amount of time before it disappeared completely? 

As you lie there now, once again imagining its form you feel it’s something bordering on pity. A showcase of solidarity in your obviously failing quest for sleep. 

Astarion may not say much about your struggles —unlike him, you don’t complain about the endless problems that you face on the road— but you know he’s still aware of them. He’s too perceptive not to be. 

So why hasn’t he said anything? 

A heavy breath escapes. A shaky one damaged by speculation. Ruined by the assumption that it’s because he doesn’t care. That perhaps you aren’t worth the trouble of a little bit of worry despite previous actions.

You may have killed for him —had his back long before anyone else, but have such feelings ever been reciprocated? Has your worth been proven now that you’ve slain a man in his honour? And if so, how much worth do you truly hold? Is it substantial enough to ask you how you are? Big enough to look at you with any semblance of fondness? Or is it all just for show?

There’s a part of you that hopes it is. That the moments filled with kindness are nothing more than lies told to keep your attention. If he were lying, it wouldn’t necessarily make the way you feel right now any better but it’d mean that there’s an end. A barrier to stop you from getting in too deep. An excuse you could use to explain the naivety of thinking he may care.

Because it wavers —his care. Some days it’s obvious, sometimes it’s not. You can never guess when the care will appear, only that when it’s there and eventually dissipates you’ll be left alone again, wondering why he puts the extra effort in at all. Why he reels you in only to let you go, forcing you to question his intentions as you watch with careful eyes for those moments of reassurance. Moments that you can never prepare for. Ones that gnaw at your heart with pointed teeth wrapped beneath hungry lips, starving for the truth. 

You’re not too sure you’re ready to take that leap yet. To push him for the answers you know he’ll just avoid. He’s never been quick to trust and even when he does allow you in there’s still a blockage of sorts. An obvious resistance that sits between you, forcing you to settle regardless of the fear you hold inside your chest, wondering what would happen if you tried to push. 

You assume it’d ruin you. That, more than likely, pushing too hard would only create an even deeper wedge, making the truth that much more unattainable, leaving you with less than what you started with. 

Shooting upwards, you groan again and breathe, resting your face against your open palms in irritation. 

All you want to do is sleep, knowing the only reason you’re thinking so much is because you’re avoiding it. If you think you can’t drift which means the nightmares can’t come, leaving you with two bad endpoints you know you have to choose between.

It makes you want to scream just thinking about it but instead of giving in to such desires you merely settle back down, pulling the fabric of your bedroll up to your shoulders before closing your eyes. 

You’re going to get some sleep whether or not it kills you. Whether or not you have to endure the pain of a thousand deaths all at once before you’re inevitably woken up in a stupor of suffering.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift. One minute you’re lying there, counting your breaths like sheep and the next you’re out, filtering through a darkness that feels all too familiar. At first, it’s just there, coating your skin in nothingness. Lost to the void of slumber, you’re at peace for the first time in forever but as expected eventually the shadows unfold. Part to reveal a body of pale skin wrapped around viscous veins full of the blood of many. 

It beckons you almost immediately. The flutter of that icy voice saying your name over and over until you come to call, allowing yourself to move. Letting your feet guide you to her presence, you feel the waves and how they threaten to spill over as you kneel before her, feeling her grab your throat. 

Her fingers twitch and curl but never grip as she leans forward, offering you a grin. “You’ve been avoidant.”

You don’t speak. For a moment your lips part, feeling the presence of her thumb glide across the base of your throat but you don’t dare speak.

“You know it’s coming, my dear. You can’t avoid it.”

Your tongue moves to wet your lips while you blink, trying your best to let the visions of her angular face blur into the night that surrounds you, realizing she looks just as you remember her. All papery and washed out —a mere shell of herself now that you’ve gone missing. Her features drying out with each passing day you find yourself separate. 

“Come back to me. Let me protect you.”

You swallow hard and turn your head, feeling the nails of her fingers dig into your neck prompting you to cry out. 

She doesn’t let you do much else. Quickly moving on from the one-sided conversation to grab her knife, you watch as she mumbles under her breath, turning the blade between her fingers with a grin. “In untimely death comes timely renewal, remember?” she says, letting it ghost across your bare chest, pushing the edge against it until it breaks the skin. 

You barely feel the first insertion. As the blade dips through the layers of your flesh, the only thing you feel is her breath. The pattern of air that puffs against your face as she recites those aforementioned words, taunting you as she pulls it down. 

In untimely death comes timely renewal. In untimely death comes timely renewal. In untimely death comes timely renewal…

As the knife moves lower, you repeat the words in unison like a mantra, struggling to get them out through gritted teeth as she works to cut you open. To slice your torso from the sternum down revealing countlessly re-healed bones and slimy organs that lie in waiting for her to pluck.

Hovering above you, her hands move to survey such handiwork, her fingers stroking the edges of your open skin before they inevitably dive right in, ripping you awake. 

You feel the pressure of her inside your gut before it really hits that it’s done. Shooting upward, you cough and double over in an instant, pressing your hands shakily to the ground in front of you. 

It’s the worst dream you’ve had yet. Longer than all the others, you can feel the adrenaline of it all penetrating your thoughts. Overthrowing every single anxiety you’ve ever felt as you sniff back tears, pushing yourself towards the entrance of your tent. 

Pulling it open, you look around the camp in desperation, catching the eye of Wyll who raises his brow, watching as you shake your head, slipping further into the ground.

Before you can even think he’s on you, reaching for your shoulders, asking you what’s wrong and how he can help. In response, you make no effort to reach back. To remedy your pain as you continue to shake and cry, sobbing out the cursed mantra through heavy gasps that leave him panicking. 

“Guys! Something’s wrong!”

As he calls out to the rest of the group, you quickly find yourself surrounded by familiar faces. All of them looking down to see your hysteria unfold. 

“What happened?” Dropping to her knees, Shadowheart’s the first to your side, moving her hands to cup your face before you swat her away, mouthing the words over and over and over again. 

“I don’t know!” 

“You don’t know?”

The two of them continue to bicker. As Wyll explains the way you crawled out of your tent, mumbling something about death, you force yourself to shuffle back, maneuvering your body so that you’re half sitting inside your tent again, watching it all unfold. Focusing on the confusion as Lae’zel and Karlach stand in the wings, muttering to each other words you can’t quite hear while Gale stares down at your mouth, watching the words you speak only to yourself as your eyes start to dart around. 

Surveying the rest of the camp, you wipe away your tears and try to breathe, forcing your mouth to stop its repetitions once you remember the ache inside your chest. 

Because of the Illithid, you can still feel her handiwork. Beneath your sweaty tunic, you can sense its edges burning —stinging from the aftermath as you press a hand to your sternum, making sure you’re still intact. Making sure your organs aren’t on display as you catch sight of Astarion coming up the path. 

He’s nose deep in a book when you see him, scanning the pages with interest before his eyes inevitably raise to see your nervous frame, curling into your tent. Then his interest fades. Evaporating into thin air before it’s replaced with fear. Genuine, heartbreaking fear that has him moving so quickly he fades out of view before reappearing in front of you. 

“What happened?” 

Just like Shadowheart, his hands cup your cheeks, gripping the plush as he lowers himself down, moving his forehead to yours. 

Unlike before you make no effort to push him away. Instead, all you do is frown and try to suppress the tears, clawing at his shirt with desperate pleas, begging him to stay. Begging him to tell you that everything’s going to be okay. Begging for him to lie and say he’ll protect you just like you did for him. 

Using your tadpole you beg him over and over again, letting the tears silently fall from your face, not caring that the whole party is watching.

All you need is him. In falseness or in truth, you don’t care. You just need him to ground you. To call you darling and to make you laugh. To make you feel like you’re something more than a vessel of organs one day destined for harvest. 

As your chest begins to heave, letting all the nightmares unfold all over again, you feel the tadpole behind your eye squirm in response, asking you to let him in. Without hesitation, you close your eyes and swallow hard, feeling his thoughts start to overthrow the visions of her and her knives and the mantra that sticks haphazardly across your brain matter.

I’m here, you’re safe.

For once it feels like a promise. A silent vow meant only for you as he ushers you further into the tent, saying something to your peers before closing it up. After that he readjusts the bedroll with gentle hands, always keeping a single palm against the small of your back, even when he guides you to lie against his chest. 

It’s the first time in weeks that you’ve felt safe. Resting a cheek just below his collarbone, you can feel your breath begin to return to its normal state. No longer ravaged by the panic of your dreams, it moves in and out, fanning the fabric of his shirt. 

“Was it a nightmare?”

You nod. Unsure how to explain it because, while it is a nightmare, it somehow feels so much more. 

“Of the past or?”

“Sort of.” 

He hums curiously, glancing down to see your hand slide up his chest to grip his shirt. 

“It feels like I’m answering a call.”

“A call?”

“Like there’s a person trying to reach me and when I answer I can… I can feel them.”

“Feel them?” 

You can tell he doesn’t quite understand. Not that you blame him for it. The whole concept of these nightmares still vexs even yourself. Leave you stumbling in confusion each night you find yourself awake, struggling to remember what’s real and what’s not. 

The nightmares are not as easily explainable as the actual torture you’ve endured. Especially considering that up until now there had been periods where the memories had died. Days where her face was nothing more than a splotch of white against a backdrop of black, slowly fading away. 

It doesn’t make sense why they're suddenly returning. Why your mind is forcing you to relieve these memories night after night. 

“Does your tadpole make it hard for you to dream?”

There's no hesitation when he says yes. No moment thought before his answer, making you wonder if maybe he too is experiencing these dreams. 

“I feel like it amplifies everything.”

Looking up to gauge his response, you can see the worry clouding his eyes. How his expression sort of fades into the abyss as his eyes focus on yours. 

“I dream of the past a lot. Of my life before this and… and I can feel it. Everything that ever happened I can feel all over again and it’s—“

“Painful.” His voice is broken. A crack in the mirror, shattering the often joyous image of his face as he looks away, blinking. 

Without even processing your movements you prop yourself up on your elbow, reaching over to grab his cheek and pull him back in. “I wish you didn’t understand how it felt.”

There’s a flicker of hurt that hits his face, enveloping his features before the previous sadness kicks in again and he’s reaching for your wrist, tightening around it. “Yes, well, not all of us get the luck of the draw when it comes to good lives.” 

“You should’ve,” you tell him.

He scoffs and closes his eyes, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “You’re probably the only one that thinks that.” 

You let your thumb explore his cheek. Let it move in soft circles, taking in the way it shifts beneath your touch. 

It feels strange to be this close to him even after all of the other intimate moments you’ve shared. Something about it feels softer, more honest than the rest of them, making your heart beat rapidly against your chest, threatening to burst. 

“I know it’s not my business but if you ever want to talk about it—“

He places a kiss to your hand, letting his lips linger against the pad of your thumb as he closes his eyes, reaching around to grip your waist. 

In an instant, the words drift out of your mind once you feel it; lost to a touch you didn’t realize you longed for.

Swallowing hard you lay back down to look away, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the tender image that unfolds as his arm shifts again, accommodating your movement. Making you feel that rush of comfort return as he pulls his mouth away and clears his throat. 

“I’m, uh… I’m not good at this kind of thing.” 

“Vulnerability?” you joke, earning yourself a snort. 

“I suppose that’s a word you can use.” 

“To be fair, neither am I.” 

You feel him shift to meet your gaze, looking at you with surprise. “Really now? I think breaking down in front of the whole camp just so that you can find me is quite the effort of—“

Before he can finish you clamp your hand around his mouth. “I was in shock, you bastard. I wasn’t thinking about my dignity.” 

Flexing around your palm, you feel him smile before he pulls away. “That’s good because there was absolutely nothing dignified about the way you looked at me back there. It was…” He trails off, his words catching in his throat for a moment before he clears it again. “You scared me.” 

There’s a moment of silence after that, lasting far longer for it to be deemed comfortable as you lay there, wide awake, wishing you could get him to talk to you. Hoping that maybe if you reach out with the Illithid he’ll answer your questions. 

Closing your eyes, you feel his presence in your mind already, vying for your attention in a way that has you both moving in closer, tightening your hold. 

Show me the dream. 

It isn’t a question or a request but a simple command that has you obeying —letting him enter your thoughts. Letting him stand along the sidelines as she guides you to the ground and cuts you open all over again. Letting him listen to the recital of words that are spoken behind two frozen expressions as Astarion pulls you tighter against him, placing his mouth to your forehead to stop himself from crying. 

-

TAGLIST: @poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @kay24sstuff @bluestuesday @mopeyghost @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @80spuppetfantasy @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @ghostys1mp @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @sweetrollgal @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @deadglamsheep @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @tea-a-holics @ghostinvenus @theenadaa @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @ilana-the-lasagna @lillifer @geektarts

(if you'd like to be added to the taglist fill out this form)

#painful vulnerabilities #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes